Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Perfect Gift Trap The flyer said that a new designer was promoting her
line of ball gowns with a fashion show on Saturday.  Given my love of ball
gowns, I was intrigued.  I wasn't doing anything special on Saturday, so I
made a mental note to attend.

   When Saturday rolled around, I suddenly realized I hadn't noticed where
the show was being held.  I searched high and low for the flyer, with no
success.  I was about to give up when I remembered to check the purse I had
out the day the flyer had arrived.  Sure enough, there it was.



   By this time it was only half an hour before show time, so I had to
hurry.  I wasn't familiar with the address, but knew approximately where
the street was.  Given the time remaining, I just ran out the door without
giving the neighborhood much thought.  When I arrived, the parking lot was
almost full.  I managed to squeeze into a spot (thank god for small cars).
I ran to the building and grabbed the elevator.  The show was on the fourth
floor.  When the doors opened, I became quite confused.  There was no one
around and everything was very quiet.  Didn't look much like a fashion show
was going to be happening any time soon!



   I pulled out the flyer to read it one more time.  I thought maybe I had
gotten the date wrong, or something.  Then I heard a door open and some
music from around a corner.  I sped down the hall thinking that the show
had already started.  I zeroed in on the music until I found the right
door. I opened it quietly, expecting to have to creep around so I wouldn't
disturb anyone, but there was no one there!  I stood there for a minute,
trying to decide what to do.  Meanwhile, a young lady entered from another
doorway.  Spotting me, she came over and said hello.  She asked if I was
hear for the fashion show, to which I nodded enthusiastically.  She asked
for my invitation.  Feeling more confused then ever, I told her I didn't
have one, just the flyer that had been dropped at my door.  She asked me to
wait a moment and taking the flyer, went back through the door she had
entered by.



   I heard her talking with someone else, but could not make out what was
said.  Presently, she returned and with a smile, stated that the flyer
would do.  She asked me to follow her, which I did, without thinking about
the strangeness of the whole situation.  I think that was the plan.  Get
you confused, so that you wouldn't question what you were being asked to
do.



   We were in a kind of alcove, with a table containing glasses and a bowl
of punch.  She offered me something to drink, so I accepted a glass.  With
all the panicked hurry to get there and then the confusion over where the
show actually was, I had developed quite a thirst.  It took me no time to
down my first glass, so I went back for more.  When I looked up, the girl
had disappeared.  I was alone, again.  I was beginning to feel very sorry
for the designer, thinking I was the only one who had showed up for her
show.  I walked to the end of the alcove, expecting to enter the show room.
It wasn't.  It was a sitting room, or that's how I would describe it. 
There were a couple of couches and a few comfortable chairs, some tables
with lamps and some flowers in a vase.  It looked very inviting, but not
what one would expect.



   I started to feel light-headed.  I thought the punch must be very
strong, to have affected me that much.  I decided to sit down, hoping the
feeling would pass.



   When I woke up, I was in a large four-poster bed.  I had no idea how
long I had been there, or even where "there" was.  My head felt groggy and
quite sore.  As the fog cleared, I realized that my arms and legs were tied
to the four posts.  I couldn't move!  Now I began to panic.  I had no idea
where I was, or how I had gotten there.  Who had kidnapped me or why.



   I started to yell for help.  It came running, unfortunately, "it" was
not help.  The girl at the fashion show came in and told me to be quiet.  I
asked what was going on, and told her to release me at once.  She came over
and sat down beside me.  From a drawer in the night table, she produced a
gag, which she put in my mouth and secured behind my head.



   "Now", she said, "you are in no position to tell me what to do.  In
fact, just the opposite.  As long as you continue to make such a racket,
you will be gagged.  If you agree to keep quiet and do as you are told, we
shall see about removing it.  Do I make myself clear?" I nodded.  "Good.  I
am sure you have many questions, some of which, I will answer.  Others I
will not.  If you persist in asking, the gag will go back in.  There will
be no second chances.  Understand?" I nodded again.



   "I am sure you are wondering where you are", she started.  "You are on
an estate with the closest neighbor being at least 10 kilometers away.  The
estate is fenced and is patrolled by guard dogs at all times.  So don't
give any thought to escaping." She got up and started pacing the room. 
"You have been brought here to prepare you for your new life.  You will
spend the next six months training, after which, you will be taken to your
new home.  That is all I will say about where you are and why you are here.
Your job is to concentrate on your training, every waking minute.  Is that
understood," she asked.



   I didn't really understand much, other than that it didn't look like I
was going to be getting home anytime soon, but I nodded anyway.



   "You are probably wondering what you are training for." She came over
and sat down beside me again.  "When the six months are over, you will have
become a perfect lady.  You will know how to conduct yourself in a ladylike
fashion at all times and how to serve your husband to his satisfaction"



   You may be wondering why it would take six months of intensive training
to do this, but, you see, I am a man.  I like to cross dress, but have
never even been out in public "dressed".  This news was having a very
strange effect on me.  I was terrified, by what she was saying, but at the
same time, excited.  Unfortunately, my excitement showed more than my fear,
if you get my drift.  For the first time, I noticed what I was wearing.  I
had on a long, satin nightgown with lace ruffles around the neck and
wrists. I couldn't see the bottom, but I could guess that the hem had
ruffles as well.  I often went to bed in a nightgown, which explains why I
hadn't noticed it earlier.



   While rising from the bed, she said, "I want you to think about this for
a while and let it all sink in.  I will be back in a couple of hours." She
left me tied to the bed with the gag in my mouth.  I felt so helpless.  I
couldn't even do anything about the growing excitement, this situation
seemed to be producing.



   With nothing else to do, my mind raced over all the possibilities.  I
thought about how to escape, what the training would be, what she meant by
serving my husband, etc., etc., until I finely fell asleep.



   When I woke up, I was still tied to the bed and gagged.  I had no idea
how long I had been asleep and, since there were no windows, no idea what
time it was (or day for that matter).



   The door opened and a severe looking woman in a lab coat strode in.  She
came over to the bed and released my wrists and ankles.  The gag stayed in.
Sounding impatient, she said, "My name is Greta.  I am your instructor. 
Now, get undressed and into the bathroom.  We have lots of work to do."
This was not the type of woman you crossed, so I did as I was instructed. I
was handed an aerosol can and told to spray my whole body, from the neck
down.  The can had no label, but it didn't take very long to figure out
that this was some sort of depilatory solution.  The foam that covered me
had a very strong, unpleasant odor and produced a prickly sensation that
became almost unbearable by the time my whole body was covered.  It hurt in
some places more than others, as you can imagine!  When I was done, I was
told to bend over and the woman sprayed the areas I had not been able to
get to.  I was starting to feel very light headed by the time she told me
to get into the walk in shower.  As soon as the door closed, the water came
on.  There were about a dozen jets hosing me down from all directions.  It
took very little time for the water to have the desired affect of washing
off the foam, and with it, all my body hair.  At least the pain stopped and
the smell was gone!  Abruptly the spray ended and the shower door was
opened.  I was handed a large fluffy towel and told to dry off and come
into the dressing room when done.  The woman looked at her watch, implying
that I had better make it fast.  So much had happened in such a short
period of time, that the thought of resisting never entered my mind.  In
the dressing room, I was ordered to lie down on my back, on a table.  My
wrists and ankles were secured to the four corners and the woman began
spreading some cream all over.  She said this would help to repair some of
the damage from the depilatory as well as softening and smoothing my skin.
The next step was plucking my eyebrows.  When I started to moan, which was
the best I could do with the gag in my mouth, she told me to not be such a
baby.  Women did this all the time and I would have to get used to it. 
After that, she rolled an electrolysis machine over and started working on
my beard.  She spent an about an hour and only got about a square inch
completed.  As I was to find out, this process would be repeated each day
until all of my beard and mustache were gone.



   Before releasing me from the table, she gave me an injection in each hip
and just below each nipple.  I couldn't ask what the injections were for,
but I had a pretty good idea.  After putting on a chemise, I was taken over
to a bar to which my wrists were cuffed.  The bar was raised so that only
my toes were touching the ground.  Another woman came in brandishing a very
severe looking corset which she wrapped around me and started fastening the
busk.  I had to suck in my gut as much as I could just to get it fastened!
The two of them started working on the laces, cinching my waist to the
point where I thought I would pass out.  After numerous measurements and
re-tightenings, the laces were tied off and I was released from the bar. 
When I lowered my arms the pain around my waist was excruciating.  My legs
were incased in stockings that were attached to the garters on the bottom
of the corset.  My feet were shoehorned into 5 inch stilettos that made
walking very difficult.  I was directed to what looked to me like a
dentist's chair where make up was applied and I was given a manicure.  My
nails were extended and painted a soft pink.



   Finally, a long pink gown was lowered over my head and fastened with a
row of tiny buttons down the back.  The skirt was raw silk and very full,
with petticoats providing body.  The bodice was velvet with a princess
collar.  After a wig was fitted and brushed out, the gag was removed and
lipstick applied.  I finally got a look at myself in a mirror.  I couldn't
believe what I saw.  It certainly wasn't me, but she moved whenever I did.
My own mother wouldn't have recognized me!



   The whole process had taken over 2 hours, from the time I was released
from the bed until I finally left the dressing room.  I suddenly realized I
was very hungry.  When I asked about food I was told that I was expected in
the dining room in ten minutes, so I had better get a move on.  The
combination of the high heels, corset and full, long skirt made walking a
real adventure.  It took me the whole ten minutes and undivided attention
to get there.  Walking down the stairs, without falling, put all thoughts
of hunger on a back burner.



   In the dining room, I was directed to a seat and served my breakfast: A
glass of milk Half a grapefruit Half a piece of dry whole wheat toast



   Once completed I was taken to a large room where Greta was waiting,
impatiently.  I spent the next 4 hours learning how to walk, sit, dance and
generally, move like a woman.  After that, I was given a lunch of celery
sticks, yogurt and water.  The rest of the afternoon was spent learning how
to apply make up.



   The next three months, my regimen was the same.  The only change was
what I was taught in the afternoon.  I learned to sew, knit, do
needlepoint, arrange flowers and everything else they could think of.  At
the end of the three months, the girl who had first met me at the "fashion
show" came to my room to talk to me.  I was still in bed, having just woken
up.  So she came and sat on the edge of the bed.  She informed me that I
had completed stage one of my transformation and was ready for the next
step.  She removed the gag ( I was tied and gagged every night) and gave me
some juice to drink.  I quickly became woozy and then passed out.



   When I awoke, I was in a different room.  It was all white and looked
like a hospital room.  In fact, I was lying on a hospital bed with my arms
and legs secured to the side rails.  I felt kind of groggy and my body
seemed to hurt all over.  My legs, crotch, chest, throat, lips and forehead
all competed for the prize of being the sorest!