Swallow

John coughed up a few white feathers.

Petra laughed, "Ah, that has set things in motion then. You'll be fine though my sweet."

"Really?" coughed John, more white feathers falling at his feet.

Petra waved to an asian employee in a cyan blouse, black skirt, and black blazer. "Eve, would you be a dear and prepare the... necessary accessories for John's fiance."

Eve giggled behind her clipboard, "At once, mistress."

As Eve wandered upstairs, Petra turned her attention to John, "Feel any different?" she asked.

John shook his head, but unbenounst to him the changes were already taking place. Already the pile of feathers was up to his knees and his skin was softer, more feminine. Petra drew closer.

"Don't you just love the feeling of feathers?" she whispered into his ear.

John began to imagine and think. Yes, he thought, it was quite nice. He began to cough again, louder and more frequently. The pile well past his waist. Underneath the feathers his legs had softened and become hairless. His manhood retracted giving to the womanhood he did not feel arrive. His shirt had begun falling apart at the seams leaving way for a white bodice holding up a pair of breasts. The rest of his body began to follow, until he was no longer a he.

"You are just about ready," said Petra triumphantly.