Erotic Transformation Flow
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I had never been upstairs in the chateau before. We went into a bedroom, not very large but bigger than most I had been in. It was a ladies' room, I could see. It had pink and white wallpaper, and almost all the furniture was trimmed with lace. The coverlet on the bed was soft and lacy too. There was a dressing-table covered with bottles and flasks, and other ladies' cosmetics. Was it Colette's room, I wondered. As if she had read my thoughts, she told me `This used to be my room, before my father died and I moved into the master bedroom. It will be your room from now on.' I could not understand this. How could I be expected to live among such feminine surroundings; this confection of pinks and creams?`Now Antoine, you must lose your nightshirt. You will take it off.' This was shocking: no woman but my mother had seen me naked. But Colette was talking in the same businesslike way she had got me to accept her conditions. I knew I could not refuse. While I stood naked before her, she looked me over. My body was far from manly. I was rather small and thin. In fact I looked much more like a young boy than a soldier. My manhood was not the largest either. I had very little hair on my body. Even my voice was a little high-pitched for a nineteen-year-old boy, as I have already said. Colette asked me if I shaved yet. She was pleased to hear I did not. I was certainly underdeveloped for my age, and Colette seemed pleased at what she was seeing. Despite her businesslike manner. Then she opened a drawer at the dresser, taking something out. Coming back to me she told me to put them on. They were a pair of knickers. At that time knickers were long, coming down past my knees. They were cotton, with wide lace trimmings around the hems of the legs. I felt strange as I pulled them up. They were fairly modern for the time: they did not have an open crotch, as some still did. To feel them against my skin was the strangest sensation. They hung loose, and felt so light, with the lace tantalising my thighs. Then I was told to put on a camisole. This fitted well with the knickers. I now realised how rough the material of my uniform was. This felt very soft, and in a way a gentle caress of my abused body. I was beginning to see what she was doing to me. To my dismay, Colette was dressing me as a woman. Of course I felt that I did not want this; I am, after all, a man. But I had promised to do all she said, in order to hide from the Military Police. If it had been anyone other than Colette who was doing this to me, I might have refused. Then again, I was in a state of near-panic, knowing I would be shot if I was found. I could not think straight, and just did as I was told. Colette then spoke. `Now, Antoine - and I'm calling you Antoine for the last time - I will need to change you completely, and the only way I can hide you is to disguise you as a young woman. I want you to grip the end of the bed while I put this corset on you.'I was shocked to hear this, but did so, while she put this garment around my waist and upper body, threading the strings through the holes in it. Then she was pulling the strings tight, and soon I felt as if I was being crushed, as my waist went inwards, and the flesh on my chest was being pushed upwards and outwards. For a moment I was gasping to breathe.
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