Chapter 5

Tim blinked.

Then blinked again.

The reflection in the mirror seemed to be a lie as far as Timothy’s brain could tell. During the process of being attacked with powders, goopy creams that were slathered over him… the makeup being put on him he had been more than a little caught up in the new experience all while the cruel but beautiful distracted him with her close presence. The entire thing kept his heart beating at a rapid pace, while he tried to pretend he wasn’t attracted to her as she stood so close and the temptation to look at her… at her chest was ever present.

All of that and he hadn’t even considered looking past her to see his own reflection as his face changed from her efforts and now with her out of the way he could clearly see what he looked like. The mirror didn’t show himself, the reflection showed a young girl, about his age, sitting wide-eyed in a chair. Her golden blonde hair was pinned up in neat, glossy rollers that shimmered slightly under the overhead light. Her face, though clearly made up in a way that enhanced her beauty. The foundation was smooth and even, the blush subtle but flattering, the soft shimmer of pink eyeshadow catching just enough light to make her hazel eyes sparkle and draw his eyes in and then her lips, glossy and pink, looked full and kissable. The girl was pretty, looking like she was getting ready to go out on any normal day and was just waiting for her hair to dry to remove her rollers.

She wasn’t stunning, like a model, but pretty in a way that made his heart stop. Pretty in a way that reminded him of the type of girl you would call her, the girl next door, quiet and pretty, someone that if you gave the chance to you could fall in love. She didn’t really exist though that girl, those kissable lips… that was him.

He leaned forward slightly, drawn in as if the mirror might reveal something different if he looked closer, if he looked hard enough. The rollers sat high and proper, almost like a crown. The mascara curled the lashes upward delicately, framing eyes that now seemed unfamiliar. The shape of his jaw looked softened somehow, not quite masculine anymore, not that it ever really was. It was him in the mirror, but the subtle changes of makeup made it seem like he was looking at his nonexistent sister.

Timothy didn’t notice one of the rooms other occupants, Sarah, coming or the objects in her hands, he hardly noticed anything at all as he gazed into the mirror, feeling something surprised that the cute girl in the mirror was him and the little bit of joy at being pretty, a feeling that gave him a sense of dread and unease. “I can’t… How did the makeup make me look so pretty?” he asked no one in particular.

“It didn’t, well it did but that is just mostly you.” Emily shrugged.

He shifted slightly in his seat, the soft tug of the thong against his hips reminding him what else he was wearing. His bare, waxed legs rubbed together, smooth and foreign, only adding to his unease.

Behind him, Sarah’s voice cut through the haze, light and chipper. “Okay, no more stalling. Let’s give her a body to match that pretty face.”

Tim turned slightly, confused by the phrasing. “Her?” he started to ask but froze as he saw what the dark haired girl held. Two large, flesh toned objects cupped in her hands. Round, jiggly, soft and unmistakably realistic. What she had in her hands looked like someone hand cut off a pair of breasts from a woman and she now held them in her hands.

“Wait, what? No… I mean…no, but… no, no, I…” The young man’s mind stuttered as it tried to wrap around the idea of what she had in her hands and what she was about to use do with them.

“Relax,” Emily said as she helped him to his feet, seemingly all too stunned to put up any resistance. “They’re just forms and when they get them on you Timmy, you will be the proud owner of B cup breasts. It's okay, you don’t have to thank us for them, at least not yet.”

“But I’m not… I mean I can’t… but…” he started to protest, all while one thread in his mind had him imagine campus police coming into the sorority house to arrest him if he didn’t comply. His mind couldn’t keep up with everything that was happening tonight, leaving him moving as Emily pushed him over to her bed and having him lay down on his back while his feet hung off the bed.

Keeping one of the prosthetics in hand, Sarah used a bottle of a glue-like substance to apply it to the back of the fake breast. “This is going to be cold, but don’t worry, from what I understand is it warms up to your body temperature quickly enough.”

Having never used anything like this before Emily questioned her friend who sounded like she knew what she was doing. “How do you know what? Ever done this before?”

Sarah shrugged. “Umm no.”

“Then how do you know it warms up?”

Scrunching up her face slightly the girl's blue eyes looked up and to the side as she thought. “Maybe I saw it on a movie or tv show.” she answered, shrugging a second time before leaning over the blonde who was laying on the bed. “Now don’t move, we have to get this on correctly.”

Tim looked at the girl leaning over him and gritted his teeth before looking away to stare up at the ceiling, frozen. The overhead light cast a warm glow over the room, but all he could feel was the cool pressure of the almost life-like breast form as Sarah pressed it gently to the left side of his chest.

The glue was cold at first as it touched his bare skin, it being wet, and strangely invasive as it pressed down onto him. Tim flinched instinctively, the sensation of it sinking in through his sensitive skin making him feel the wrongness, the weight, the stickiness, the cold as it pressed down. His left nipple that was being covered, already more tender than usual after the waxing, felt like it was being smothered beneath the sticky coldness. Then came the full weight of the breast itself, soft and smooth and heavier than he expected, molding itself to the curve of his chest with a surreal finality.

“Thats one!” Sarah said cheerfully, holding it in place with the heel of her hand. “Just a minute to set.”

Tim didn’t speak, looking down at his chest as the pretty burnette, held her hands to his chest, the left side of his chest looking so wrong with what she held against him. It wasn’t like he suddenly grew a breast, he could see the steam of it, even as she held it down for the glue to take hold. He was hyper-aware of the sensation of the way the fake flesh pressed down, conforming to his body while simultaneously replacing it with something so feminine looking. The weight wasn’t crushing, but it was substantial, a constant passive tug on his skin, impossible to ignore. ‘How did I end up like this!?’ Timothy asked himself, having a hard time tearing his eyes away from what he was seeing happen to him.

All while his mind couldn’t stop focusing on the weird contradiction underneath that perfect, soft fake breast was still his own chest. His own nipple. And now there was another one resting above it, perfectly formed, permanently perky, and entirely not his.

The glue started to dry, holding the prosthetic to his chest, almost cementing it in place. That was when Tim saw Sarah pull her hand away, a large toothy smile on her face as she moved her hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. With the absence of her hand he could feel gravity take hold of the fake tit on his chest even as he stayed laying on his back.

Sarah repeated the process on the right side. More glue, more cold, more pressure as she pressed the matching form into place, making minor adjustments with a precision that felt disturbingly maternal.

Emily hovered nearby, watching with arms crossed. “You know,” she said, her tone amused but oddly admiring, “you’re taking this better than I expected.” she said a part of her expecting she would have to sit on him and hold or tie his arms up to get this done.

Tim didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure what to say, the comment making him feel worse about the situation because it had been expected for him to put up more of a fight. ‘Should I have fought back?’ Tim asked himself a moment playing out in his mind of shoving Sarah to the side as he made a break for the door and Emily tackling him to the ground, his face shoved into the carpet as Sarah tearfully called the police as she recovered from his hard shove to get away. ‘No… that would only make things worse.’

It played out in his mind as Sarah’s hand pulled away, her moving her limbs with a little bit of hesitation like she was worried one of the fake breasts was going to fall away. When nothing happened she felt a little giddy at what she had done though the more she looked the more sour her expression, it hitting her that the young man that wasn’t even twenty years old now had a chest larger than her own, even if it was fake.

“Sit up,” Emily said, grabbing the young man by both wrists and pulling him up.

Tim obeyed, the motion making his new chest jiggle slightly. He gasped a high, involuntary sound he immediately regretted as the movement emphasized just how real the forms now felt. They pulled on his skin, the glue doing its job to keep them in place and making him feel the full weight of the tits as he stood up. Moving his hands up he cupped them, feeling their weight and pushing up slightly to ease the pulling sensation. In his hands they sort of felt real, like real skin but not as warm or at least he thought it felt real, never having really felt a girl's chest up before.

Sarah giggled. “Aww, she bounces.”

“It could be better. Timmy, bounce up and down for me.” Emily said

Like he had done looking in the mirror Tim blinked at the girl, all while still holding the brand new assets glued to his chest. “What?”

“Come on.” Emily gave him a flat look. “You can’t be that much of an air head. I told you to bounce up and down, you know, small jumps.”

His fingers curled against the undersides of the glued on tits, pressing into the silicone’s soft flesh. They didn’t feel like they should be part of him, but they were stuck fast, every slight shift in posture made them tug at his real skin underneath. “Do I really have to?” he muttered, still holding them.

Emily raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, no. You don’t have to. I can just start recording and make you leave the house here and run down the street, all the world to see you and we can see how it takes the cops to come pick up a pervert like you.”

Her just casually explaining a scenario that would be a million times worse made his stomach twist in anguish. As he moved to the balls of his feet, bouncing up and down, allowing him right away to feel the shift in his weight.

The breast forms responded instantly to his movements, lifting slightly and then falling with a soft, heavy jiggle that didn’t match the rest of his body. The downward pull tugged at the glued surface, making his skin crawl with discomfort. There was an odd, secondary bounce that followed after he’d already settled again, like they were reacting on their own timeline. His chest now doing things it had never done before as it moved. Gasping he used both hands to try and clutch at the new prosthetics..

Sarah squealed. “Oh my god, did you feel that?”

“I saw it,” Emily said, grinning ear to ear. “Try again. No hands.”

Tim blinked, cheeks burning as he blushed, the redness not able to be concealed by the makeup as he started to let go of his enlarged chest, but stopped part way.

“No hands,” she repeated, this time more firmly.

This time he fully obeyed, letting his hands fall to his sides as he bounced once again. Each bounce, the movement was unmistakable the soft, fleshy forms jiggled freely with a weight and rhythm completely foreign to his body. He could feel the drag on the glue, the unnatural shift of gravity, the ghost of a sensation echoing through his real chest beneath the silicone. His nipples throbbed dully under the adhesive that was warming up more with each passing second, overstimulated and smothered beneath someone else’s curves.

He stopped moving up and down, panting slightly, not from exertion, but from the sheer amount of shame.

Emily looked over to her friend, raising an eyebrow, unable to contain the pure glee from her face. “I can’t believe these will work!”

Sarah for her part nodded, thinking how a little concealer could disguise the edges of the fake forms, but she was also getting a bit ahead of herself. “We can do more, but we need to get her a bra.”

Nodding, Emily looked back to their prisoner who seemed to look as if they wanted the floor to open up and eat them alive. “Time for a bra, and you know what they say about us girls. Once you wear a bra, you will have to do so for life.”

The bra that ended up being wrapped around Tim’s chest was a pink number with matching frilly edges around the tops of the cups, the article of clothing borrowed from Emily’s drawer, the fake breasts too large to make use of any bras from Sarah’s dresser. Feeling the shoulder straps being tightened and snapped hard in the back didn’t help Tim feel any better about the situation but he did feel some relief as the new garment took some of the weight from his new glued on chest.

The click of the slight sound of the clasps holding onto one another behind his back felt deafening, even though it was barely a sound. The pink bra snapped snugly into place as Emily adjusted the straps, tugging them tight before stepping back. Tim felt every little shift, every new pressure. The soft cups hugged the glued on breast forms tightly, drawing them upward, shaping them, pushing them into a posture that felt both feminine and very much unforgiving.

“Aaahhh bra.” Tim said to himself, seeing the fake breasts cupped in the article of clothing. While they were flesh colored, they didn’t match his own, but it didn’t matter. He was wearing a bra, a piece of clothing he should not be wearing and it truly should not be fitting.

The shoulder straps dug lightly into his skin, reminding Tim they were there with every twitch or breath. It didn’t hurt exactly, but they pressed just enough to make their presence constant. He rolled his shoulders instinctively, trying to ease the tension, but it didn’t help. The elastic band around his ribs was snug enough that he felt it tighten every time he inhaled. It sat just beneath the curve of the forms, keeping them firmly in place, anchoring them to him in a way that made escape feel that much more impossible.

Tim looked down, a slight whine coming from him as he took in the pink lace cupping what now looked more real, they could very much be real if the seams were not there and the tits matched his own skin color. The edge of the fabric hugged the top swell of the breasts, leaving just a hint of exposed skin, except it didn’t feel like his anymore. It had been repurposed into something else.

The tits jiggled slightly as he shifted his posture, and for once, the motion didn’t tug on his skin uncomfortably. The bra was doing its job, supporting their weight and holding them steady. In some awful, humiliating way, it was better now and that relief in him only made part of him cringe more than he felt even the slightest bit grateful for the bra.

Sarah beamed at him like a proud girl dressing up a doll. “There we go! That should make things a lot more comfortable.”

Tim didn’t know if that was a question or a statement, but still he didn’t speak up. He just stood there, shoulders hunched slightly, trying to process the sick mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He wasn’t just wearing a bra, he was wearing an article of clothing from Emily, a bra that once cupped and held her pretty breasts that he had tried to avoid looking at when she was so close to him and now he shared an article of clothing with her, just like he wore the panties of Sarah, making anything he forgot about his covered lower region come back in ****.

He could feel the fake breasts warming up more and more with each passing second as they came up to match the temperature of his body as time went on. The glue wasn’t cold anymore, it was pliable, sticky and somehow very much bonded to him. The silicone had softened against his chest, and now, with the bra’s support, they were beginning to feel disturbingly natural.

Timothy was aware of every single inch of his body, how tightly the bra fit. How the straps pulled in a way to support what it held and **** his shoulders to feel the burden. How the lace itched faintly along his ribs. How Emily’s scent clung faintly to the fabric wrapped around him, just like the panties smelled of Sarah. Swallowing hard he felt like he could just cry.

Emily cocked her head from one side to the other as she walked a small circle around the feminized young man. “Feeling supported, princess?”

Tim gave the smallest nod, cheeks still blazing and not wanting to tell her no when he very much didn’t want any of this.

“Good!” Emily said with a single clap of her hands. “This is going good so far, but even though you are small… I think you could afford to lose a few pounds to help your girlish figure.” She then moved into her captives personal space, taking his head into her hands as she held his cheeks to look into his hazel eyes that stood out so much more with the makeup she had applied. “Tell me you want help to look even prettier.”

Swallowing hard, Tim nodded as much as he could with her holding his head and repeating her words when her look turned into something harder. “Please umm, please make me look prettier.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now stand up straight, pretty girl, we’ve got a waist to sculpt.”

Tim shivered as she turned to retrieve the corset from the nearby chair. It was a striking piece of deep purple satin, sturdy boning running vertically across the length, silver hooks on the front for closure and long laces dangling from the back. In the soft bedroom lighting, it looked regal.

Emily knelt and wrapped the corset around his waist, the cool fabric brushing against his freshly waxed skin. It was oddly comforting to him at first, like a thick belt or a hug that didn’t let go. When she clipped each metal clasp down the front one by one, cinching the whole structure tight enough that it held itself in place without effort.

“There,” she said, stepping behind him to grab the laces. “Stage one.” Her very much looking forward to stage two.

Tim took a breath, positive the corset was going to be worse, it really wasn’t so bad or really that tight, but supportive. His lower back felt aligned. There was even a slight relief to the pressure, like his spine was being encouraged to sit upright. The false security almost made him relax. Until he felt the laces move slightly tighter, and then more and then more again.

Emily gave the laces a quick tug.

Tim’s entire midsection jerked. The pressure grew sharper, squeezing in on his waist and pushing his lower belly flat. He gasped involuntarily, grabbing the sides of the bed for support.

“Oh my god,” he choked. “That’s tight!”

Emily leaned in, inspecting the curve of his waist. “That’s better,” she corrected. “You’ve got a boy’s frame, a shame really, but don’t worry I will help you get you that classic hourglass look you want.”

Sarah, who had settled onto the edge of her own bed with one leg tucked under her, grinned at the sight. “Some girls actually love corsets, you know,” she said, swinging her foot lazily. “They say it makes them feel elegant, supported. Puts them in a confident mindset. Like, posture changes everything.”

“I can’t breathe,” Tim muttered.

Emily ignored him. “You’re fine,” she said breezily. “You’ve got plenty of room left.” She waited a few moments just long enough for him to adjust, to catch a few shallow breaths and think the worst might be over. That was when she tightened the laces on the corset once more.

The laces cinched another inch, and Tim made a strangled noise, half protest and half whimper. He arched his back instinctively, trying to pull away from the pressure, but the corset held firm, unforgiving. His entire waist felt like it was being squeezed through a tube.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. “I mean, they do take getting used to. Some girls work up to wearing them all day. It’s like training a muscle, in fact I think they call it waist training and you girl need the help.” She gave the laces a slow, deliberate tug, this time less sudden but no less brutal. The feminized young man hunched forward slightly before she yanked him upright again by the back of his bra strap.

“No slouching. That ruins the silhouette.”

He groaned, holding onto his sanity as best he could, chest heaving in shallow bursts as he tried to breath in the **** device. “I feel like my ribs are going to crack…”

Sarah tilted her head. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. When it’s fitted properly, it actually helps with back support. I wore one to my cousin’s wedding last year and my posture was amazing all night.” She thought for a moment, not pulling on the laces. “I actually wore this as a top to a party last year with a pleated jean skirt.”

Tim’s knees buckled slightly, but she caught him with one hand on his side and gave him a reassuring pat, like this was perfectly normal, like they were just playing dress up instead of reshaping his entire body.

“Emily, please…” he rasped.

“One more pull,” she promised as she pulled on the laces once more before tying them off.

Tim’s shallow, ragged breaths could be heard as he stood there trembling. The corset laced so tightly he could barely move. His waist was visibly narrower now, exaggerated by the swell of the glued on breasts above and the softness of his waxed thighs below along with his male member nestled in the pink panties.

He looked down at himself in the mirror again, and this time, the girl looking back had an actual figure.

Sarah nodded, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a real waist now. Honestly, that’s more definition than I get in half my dresses. I feel like I should be jealous and call you a bitch… but first I think we need a better name for you than Timothy or Timmy.”