Not so sweet dreams are made of these

The door to SpaFreu slid open with a soft chime that echoed like wind chimes in a canyon. Cool air rolled out from within, a gentle floral scent drifting past Jerry’s nose. It smelled like freshly cleaned linens, like something from his childhood in the welcoming way. He stepped through the open doors and instantly felt his shoulders fall, his breath slow. Something about being here made him feel like he was home, a place where he was safe.

The gym looked the same as always, only brighter. The pinks were warmer, almost glowing. The walls gleamed white with a softness that didn’t hurt the eyes. Everything shimmered with clarity. The trainers, clients event the pair of young woman at the front desk all smiled as he walked past. He belonged here.

His sneakers made no sound as he walked deeper into the entry way. Glancing down he looked at his trainers, black, little bit of gray, the pink swoosh and white soles. His leggings were snug, hugging every contour of his smooth legs, the pink piping seemed to pulse with each step. His pink SpaFreu soft t-shirt with its feminine cut had the bold black letters emblazed on it fluttered gently against the sports bra he knew he was wearing. He didn’t remember putting it on. It didn’t matter, he needed the clothing to be able to work out.

He felt good.

A soft chime sounded as a soft reassuring feminne voice sang out during the normal music that played at the gym or at least played through the app Jerry listened to as he worked out.

“Stay, you feel safe here. Join SpaFreu.”

The voice repeated itself, the words threaded through the melody playing faintly in the background. Familiar music, his music, the same playlist he fell asleep to with his phone sitting on his night stand the app from the gym still playing its music on a soft volume. Only this time the words were clearer, more… intentional.

“Jerri!” He heard his trainer’s voice call out, turning he saw Reina wave from across the room before she jogged over with the kind of bouncy energy Jerry always found appealing and reassuring. She looked perfect, sleek, toned, vibrant, and beautiful. Her fitted jacket hugged her curves in a way that made her look both professional and playful.

“There you are,” she said, brightening as she reached him. “It always makes my day to see you. It’s nice having a cute guy around.” She nudged his shoulder lightly. “Do you think it’d be okay if we went out for drinks later?”

Jerry smiled before he even realized it. “Yeah. That sounds great!” he couldn’t help the excitement in his voice, woman never gave him the time of day, now a gorgeous one that he had spent time with had asked him out on a date, it was a dream come true.

She beamed. “Perfect. I’ll wear something short, tight and pink.”

The soft chime sounded again mid song that played from the speakers high above.

“You trust your personal trainer. They want to help you, be the real you.”

They walked together past a mirror. Jerry caught his reflection and paused. His leggings clung tighter than they used to—his legs looked longer, smoother. He tilted his head unsure what exactly he was seeing.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” Reina said, taking his hand. “Treadmill time.”

He didn’t question it, when she spoke to him it was like he was the only one in the room, her words were only for him, her attention was all his. The treadmill activated as soon as he stepped on. No buttons, no noise. Just movement. Jerry started jogging, but it didn’t feel like exercise. It felt like performance. Each step was smooth. His body moved with rhythm, grace, ease.

Reina stood just behind him, watching. “You’re making real progress. I can’t wait to see you looking even more feminine. You’re going to be your best self.”

The words stuck, there was something off with them, though he wasn’t sure what at first. His foot hit the belt harder on the next step, Jerry’s rhythmic pace disrupted. He looked over, confused, repeating some of her words back that sounded almost out of place though he couldn’t say why. “More feminine?”

Reina didn’t react to the question, she only stepped forward so that he was within her reach as she smiled broadly as she pulled something from behind her back. “I’ve got just the thing.”

Before Jerry could stop her, she grabbed weak bicep and spun him in place—faster and faster like a doll on a string till it looked like there was a small tornado on the treadmill. By the time Reina had his body up to speed she snapped the garment in like wet towel, letting it go as it caught on something and pulled in. The gym blurred around him, pink and white streaks swirling into one another, with each revolution Jerry felt more and more out of breath till the spin ended with a snap, causing Jerry to come to a stop as he dizzily stepped off the treadmill.

Head spinning, positive there was little stars floating around in a circle above his head, Jerry felt like there was a vice crushing his waist. Around him he found a thick black corset that was practically strangling him. The corset looked like something out of an old movie as it cinched his mid-section to impossible proportions. The laces had tugged tighter and tighter as he had spun, causing him to gasp and his waist collapsed inward, ribs squeezing, hips flaring. His body shape bloomed with cartoonish femininity, along with his chest subtly pushed out against his shirt. The sports bra pressed higher, tighter. Jerry wobbled, hand against a machine for support. “What… is this?”

Once more a chine sounded mid song.

“Your waist trainer keeps you supported and looking fit. You love how it hugs and defines your shape.”

He turned to find Reina already opening something new—a can, metallic pink, cold mist rising from its lid. The label gleamed in scripted silver letters:

Bust-UP

Strawberry Cream | Meal Replacement | Feminine Wellness Formula

Before he could react Reina thrust it into his free hand like it was his favorite soda. “Drink up, Geraldine. I need my girl healthy.”

He wanted to resist. He did. But the can was already cold in his hand. It smelled of strawberry sweetness. Without another thought he put the can to his lips and drank. The flavor wasn’t strawberry it was a color. Pink. Soft. Clean. Sweetness that coated his throat and melted into his chest.

It felt like a change ran through his body like one did through the old cartoon character Popeye when he eat his spnisch, on it wasn’t strength that filled Jerry. His lips tingled first. A mirror appeared across from him, and in it, he watched as they shimmered—plumper, glossy, blushed pink like lipstick applied with perfect precision, his lips matched the color of the drink. His posture shifted. Shoulders back. Chin up. He smiled in the reflection.

Yet another chime sounded from the speakers. “Bust-UP helps your body develop how you want. You feel more confident as your figure develops.”

He turned slightly, viewing his profile. His waistline was flawless, hips curved, his chest had the start of something soft, something round beneath the shirt, something incredibly feminine. He stood differently—no, she stood differently. For a moment, she admired herself.

The chime came again.

“Having a feminine body makes you more confident. You love what you’re becoming.”

Then a voice pierced through it all, his own voice, but it didn’t come from his soft puffy pink lips, it just existed everywhere at once. “Wait. This isn’t right!”

He took a step back from the mirror. Then another. The pretty smile dropped. “I’m a guy,” Jerry said aloud, his voice seemingly echoing through the gym that now felt hollow. The lights in the room seemed to dim as things felt more and more wrong. “I’m not supposed to look like this.”

He grabbed at the corset, but his fingers couldn’t find the laces. They had vanished. The fabric had no beginning, no end. It had become part of him. Jerry’s reflection still smiled despite him knowing he was doing no such thing. In the mirror he… she still stood poised and posed.

“I have to go.” Jerry said, the feminine reflection’s lips didn’t even move as he spoke to it, his own voice trembling.

That was when he felt Reina’s hand closed gently around his wrist. He had forgotten she was even there. “But you can’t leave, sweetheart.”

His body froze from the comment like it was a command that couldn’t be denied.

One heart beat, two and then three went by before he found his ability, his courage to respond. “Why not?”

She smiled wider than before, eyes gleaming, her hair moving about gently as she shook her head. “Because this is a woman’s only gym.” Her voice softened. “And you belong here.”

The overhead speaker chimed again—lower now, almost mechanical.

“You belong here. You want to stay.”

His reflection leaned closer. The pink lips moved, whispering:

“Geraldine is a beautiful name. It feels natural. It suits you.”

Jerry stumbled back, breath caught in his throat.

“I’m not—” he whispered feeling as if he was losing his own voice.

Jerry jolted awake, gasping. His bedroom was dark, his chest heaving, sheets clinging to his damp skin. He reached down touching his stomach and sliding his fingers down till he felt his boxers, and smooth skin, he wasn’t wearing leggings. Blinking a few times he took one deep breath than another, the details of his dream feeling hard to hold onto. Jerry knew it was about the gym and there was something wrong, but he wasn’t sure why one of the first things he had done when suddenly waking up was move his hand over his waist and then check to see if he was wearing his gym pants. It was a dream, just an odd dream he supposed.

Taking another breath, trying to calm himself he turned his head and saw the soft blue glow of his phone on the nightstand. It was in the middle of rebooting after a **** update, the bedside digital clock read 6:09 a.m. “Twenty minutes before my alarm… might as well get up and start the day, not worth it to go back to sleep.” Jerry grumbled, his mind unable to find the pieces of the dream he had woken up from.