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My reflexes were too slow, as I entered my sister already was upstairs in her room. It was late and I was very worn out. I walked upstairs and entered my room, I took off my clothes and fell into bed. I looked at the ceiling and pondered the strange day I had. I drifted asleep and was jolted awake by a hand, I opened my eyes and saw my sister. I could not tell if it was the lack of light or if her eyes really were red, but the sniffling made me realize she had been crying for awhile now. I sat up and she hugged me and started to ball, I still didn't understand what was going on. Suddenly she croaked out. "I-I'm sorry Lucien." I was fully awake at this point and very worried. "Whats wrong sis?" Her response was more tears and sniffling. I slowly held her and rocked her back and forth just like when we were younger. I softly moved her chin up so she would look at me, I brushed some loose strands of hair from her face. I asked again. "Whats wrong?" She sniffled one last time and slowly. Every pore in my face was awarethat my gender was changing magically.Even my hair seemed to have feeling all the way through to theends of the curls Mistress placed there with a curling iron. Asshe formed each section of curls, the iron burned hot on myscalp. It tugged relentlessly as she wound the strands of hairaround it, bringing it tight to my head. Mistress knew I likedthe feeling of the iron, so she twisted it slowly and forcefullyon each curl, dwelling on the process and solidifying thepowerlessness of my transition.As she finished with the curling iron, Mistress took a can ofhairspray and misted it all over my head, stiffening the hair anddefining the unmistakably feminine mass of curls. The spray waslike a magical mist, spreading its aroma throughout the room andlanding in small particles on every curve of my body.The body shaper gripped my upper body in its satin embrace,pushing out my upper chest into an approximation of femalebreasts. From time to time, Mistress would.
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