Makeover

“Dissatisfaction detected,” the voice says.

“Finally,” you say as the hands grab you again.

Two arms put a jacket on you that tightens as well. Your broad shoulders and for arms looking a lot more slender.

“This isn’t what I wanted!” You cry out.

But the machine carries on. A metal cage drops from the ceiling and surrounds your head. A cloud of pink fills your vision. When the cloud disappears the device retracts revealing your face has been coated in make up. You can barely see yourself looking back at you.

A single helping hand places a wig on top of your head. The hairstyle a sexy wave of silken blonde curls. You swish your head in disbelief, the wig staying on as if superglued. Your cock strains against your panties at the sight of the attractive woman looking back at you in the mirror.

“I’m not a woman!” You shout, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“Correction,” the voice chimes in. “You may not be one, but you will pass as one.”