The Mule 05

With a spine-chilling image staring back at him in the mirror, Ethan examined every inch of himself, in awe of the human brain's ability to adapt to new situations.

Starting at the bottom, he gawked at his feet, encased in a pair of gleaming white ankle boots, perched at a precarious angle. At the rear of the tendon-stretching footwear, a towering five-inch chunky heel extended down to the pink carpeted floor to support his increased weight while a one-inch platform at the front elevated him further from it. The fact that he could not only stand comfortably in the tight high-heeled boots but actually jog in them was genuinely mind-blowing.

Scanning upwards, his smooth shapely legs were hugged by a stretchy white fabric with a ribbed design. It was a daring one-piece jumpsuit that went from ankle to shoulder, designed to showcase and emphasise every one of his surgically enhanced curves.

Taking a deep breath, Ethan looked down at the flat crotch and shook his head. His manhood was still there. He could feel it squashed between his legs and covered with a disturbingly realistic-looking vagina, which according to Karla, would be removed at a later date if he continued to follow instructions.

Further up, the amount of skin on show increased dramatically as the jumpsuit changed from a solid piece of material covering his expanded hips and buttocks to two daring vertical strips that barely contained his perky, mammoth breasts that jutted out from the centre of his previously chiselled chest, weighing what felt like a ton.

Seeing his belly button peeking back at him was both unsettling and strange, but at least his days of wearing the uncomfortable rib-crushing corset were behind him, with Karla claiming he had healed enough to go without it. It was a relief to be free of the constricting torture device, but with his waist now looking cartoonishly thin, the damage had already been done.

Reaching the top of his body was perhaps the most jarring of all! Before him was the face he’d seen all his life, but now perched atop the shoulders of a voluptuous, buxom babe! The sight was unsettling, to say the least. The only minor difference was his hair, now longer than it ever had been thanks to the time in captivity and the caffeine shampoo he used daily.

"Ok, are you ready?" Karla said, her voice cutting through Ethan's daze, bringing him back to his awful reality.

With a pout, Ethan slowly turned to face his captor, unconsciously standing tall thanks to all the posture training, bringing his hands together in a very feminine manner. "I'm not sure this is a very good idea, Karla," he muttered hesitantly. "Won't people stare at me?"

(See image 10)

"That's something you'll need to get used to," Karla replied with a sly smirk, "You have a very attractive body. It's natural for people to want to take a closer look."

"But...what about above up here?" Ethan said, gesturing towards his face with a look of uncertainty. "Don't you think it looks out of place?"

Karla curled her top lip and scoffed, "I don't think many people are going to spend long looking at your face," she said. "But if it concerns you that much, there's perhaps something we can do to correct it."

"What does that mean?" Ethan exclaimed, his pleading eyes filled with regret over the comment.

"Never you mind," Karla replied, stepping towards the bedroom door. "It's time to go."

"But what if someone recognizes me and calls the police?" Ethan expressed, desperately trying one last time to sway Karla into changing her mind.

Karla chuckled before breaking into a full-blown laugh. "No one will recognize you, and no one will call the police. Now, come on. Let's go." She added in a stern tone that told Ethan there was no more room for argument.

With a jiggle and a wobble, Ethan strutted out of the pink room like a supermodel on tall high-heeled boots, while Karla followed closely behind in a much more modest outfit. As they turned left down a corridor of closed doors, Ethan's nerves began to heighten. It was the same route he took to the gym each day but today they would be venturing past the third door on the left into the unknown!

With Ethan's nerves reaching a fever pitch, Karla suddenly commanded him to stop. She marched ahead, her determined strides taking her to a sturdier-looking metal door. With a jangle of keys, she unlocked it and with a clunk, the door swung open. Karla then gestured for Ethan to enter, his heart pounding in his chest as his fear threatened to consume him. But as he was marched down another corridor and through another set of doors, he forced himself to take note of his surroundings, building a mental map of the facility that he hoped would one day prove useful.

As Ethan stepped outside, the bright mid-morning sun momentarily blinded him. But as his eyes adjusted, he couldn't help but be awestruck by the lush green grass, vibrant flowers, and towering palm trees surrounding him. But the idyllic scene was interrupted as two large men dressed in overalls and berets, with handguns holstered on their belts, turned to investigate. The closest one stood only a few feet away, nodded before looking away, while the one at the far end of the garden held his stare.

With a firm grip on Ethan's hand, Karla led him up the garden path. With his head lowered in embarrassment, the scantily dressed man struggled to take in his surroundings as the guard by the gate smirked and stared. As they approached the heavy-set man with the defined goatee beard, Karla gave him a nod, signalling for the gate to be opened. With a press of a button, the large metal gate swung open, and Karla led Ethan out to a waiting car.

In the back of the luxurious car, Ethan again tried to gather clues about his whereabouts, but the passing scenery consisting mainly of scrubland and palm trees offered little information.

After a twenty minutes ride, Ethan emerged from the vehicle with a sense of trepidation, his blocky heels sinking into the sandy dirt-covered road beneath, only adding to his discomfort. Taking a deep breath, the smell of salty sea air filled his lungs as he surveyed his surroundings. His eyes were met with a picturesque scene of colourful houses and storefronts lining one side of the road, while on the other lay a stunning white sandy beach, dotted with palm trees and quaint huts with straw roofs. The last place he remember being was an all-inclusive resort in Cancun, but he was clearly far away from there now, with not a tall building in sight.

With Karla gripping his arm tightly, Ethan stumbled across the road as he nervously scanned his surroundings. Not accustomed to navigating such a soft surface in a pair of high heels, his increased bulk and altered centre of gravity threatened to pull him to the ground.

"Be calm, and enjoy the sun. You could use a little colour," Karla barked as she noticed how tense and on edge Ethan was, his head swivelling from side to side.

"I can't!" he replied through gritted teeth. "People are staring at me!"

"Who? Her?" Karla replied, pointing to a young Mexican woman about thirty feet away, sitting outside a hut and gazing in their direction. "Ah! Perfect! Let's say hello."

Ethan tried to protest, but Karla was relentless as she practically dragged him towards the hut. When they arrived, the woman gawked at Ethan, unsure of what to make of the large-breasted man with the voluptuous figure. Karla, calm as always, introduced herself before informing the woman that Ethan was feeling a little self-conscious about his appearance.

"I can help with that," the woman replied, pointing to a sign that had been driven into the sand.

Looking in the direction of the woman's extended arm, Ethan's eyes widened as he read the services on offer. "I don't think..." he started to protest, but Karla cut him off. "Perfect," she said in a commanding tone. "Give him all of them," she continued, "Perhaps you'll feel more relaxed once your head matches the rest of your body."

Jumping up from her chair with a beaming smile plastered across her face, the woman took a moment to examine her newest client. After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity to Ethan, she turned to Karla and nodded. "No problem," she announced. "When I'm done, he will look beautiful! I have a friend who does nails too. If you're interested, I can call her?"

"Yes, call your friend," Karla replied, having squashed Ethan's brief protest and pushing him down into the chair vacated by the woman. “Tell her to bring some nail tips. I'll be over there catching some sun. Do what you feel is necessary and find me when you're done."

(See image 11)