Roommates on Lockdown Ch. 06

All day I fumed, feeding my hatred. I couldn't believe that ass hole. How could he have just brushed me off like that, so casually, in the middle of....that.

And what the fuck was "that," exactly? What was with me? Why the hell would I go and kiss a man for christ's sake. Especially one who was such a huge fucking jerk.

Ugh. Everything was so confusing. I wished I had someone to talk to other than Gabriel...

I then began thinking about Jennifer. Strange...I hadn't spoken to her, or even thought about her, in weeks.

I guessed that it couldn't really hurt to call her. Hard to ruin our relationship more than it had been when she left.

I had a bit more time to kill before that night's session so I picked up the phone and called.

"Michael?" she answered, sounding strangely excited. It felt...different....to be called that name...Somehow out of place.

"Hi Jen. How...how are you?" I replied

"Oh Michael. I miss you."

Wow... I hadn't been expecting that. Last time we were on the phone our conversation had been halting and awkward, like two strangers trying to make conversation waiting for an elevator. There had been no warmth like this.

I gave the only reasonable reply. "I miss you too," I said. And it was true, kind of. I mean I missed her company - having someone to shoot ideas off of and stuff. But given that I barely thought about her these days, it was hard to make it too convincing.

"I hated how our last conversation went, Michael. I've had a lot of time to think about it. I don't think I gave you enough credit while we were together. You've always been so easy to talk to! Like my best friend Michael! Oh I've just been dying from not speaking with you. I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore. I thought...I thought you'd decided to move on. I've been agonizing over this - wanting to call you every day but not wanting to anger you... to push you away further." She was speaking quicker and quicker, worry seeping through her voice.

"Shhh...shhh it's okay. It's okay." I soothed, trying to calm her down. "Jen we're good, we're good."

"Oh, Michael. Do you mean it? Really do you? I want to come back as soon as possible."

I wasn't really sure I did mean it but she had been freaking out. "That sounds nice, Jen. But the border is still closed. You just have to be patient.

"I know but I'm just glad we're talking again. We need to do that more, Michael. I want to hear your voice more. I bet we come out of this stronger than ever."

The words were nice to hear. Like a calming bath, soothing my nerves, they swept over me. This was normal. This was how a guy acted with his girlfriend. His beautiful girlfriend. I felt a strange sense of comfort. Something about it felt false but I pushed that away.

"I bet you're right, Jennifer."

We had a long conversation. I caught her up on what I'd been up to (mostly just books I'd read, as I told her I was still looking for work - luckily, she didn't think to ask how I was paying my bills) and she told me about the past months for herself. For some strange reason I felt more connected to her than ever. We chatted and chatted away, talking about the latest episodes of the bachelor and new recipe's we'd both tried out. We even talked about shampoo and conditioners we were using, after I told her how long my hair was getting. Strangely, it felt like our bond was tighter than it had ever been.

Then, at a lull I glanced at my clock and realized I had to get ready soon.

"I...I'd better be going, Jen."

"Oh, Michael. I miss you so much."

"You too, Jen. Let's talk soon okay?"

"That's it?"

"Soon babe."

We ended the call.

I sat, staring into space, holding my phone in my open hand. I felt at ease, like I was floating. Being shut in in this apartment with Gabriel, I had been slowly losing myself, forgetting who I was - or what I was.

I had just got off the phone with my girlfriend. I smiled to myself, feeling my anxiety abate - my constant internal conflict I'd gone through lately drew back somewhat.

Then I looked next to me on the bed and saw the yellow dress. My smile faltered. But no - it was a job, that was all. I should view it that way. These were costumes I put on for my job to pay the rent, nothing more.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that the session would start in an hour. I began to change. As I did so, I thought about my conversation with Jennifer. I thought about what I wanted my life to look like. Finally, I decided - today was the day I established the new rule. No more "part 2s" of our sessions. Fuck Gabriel and his fucking theories. We were done.

Notwithstanding my newfound mentality, I was as methodical as ever when doing my hair and applying my makeup. Yes it was a job - but one that I would take seriously.

I took the dress out of the garment bag and noticed it came with a bra and panties. I peeled off the set I was wearing and slipped these on. They of course fit my breasts and ass perfectly. I'd never worn anything like them - the base material was white, thin and somewhat transparent, and it was embroidered with beautiful flowery designs that covered various sections of the bra and panties.

Though I was curious, I didn't turn to the mirror yet. I generally tried not to reveal to myself until the end, so I could imagine how Gabriel felt when he saw me all at once. Again just part of the..the professionalism with which I approached my job.

I pulled out the dress and saw it had a similar, though more elegant design. Like the bra and panties, the yellow base fabric was thin and somewhat translucent, but it also had a glossy and silky sheen that spoke of extremely high quality fabric. It too was covered in a flowery embroidery.

As I slipped on the dress, I marveled in the smoothness and the comfort of the thin material. It pulled smooth easily, forming around my body. It truly felt wonderful against my skin.

I slipped on the sexy stiletto heels then turned to the mirror.

My rediscovered sense of self shook. Fuck. Me.

Was that really me? I turned and the woman turned. She was beautiful, as always, but her body...her body in that dress....my god. She was to die for.

The dress hugged me perfectly, tight around every curve but without a crease or stretch to be seen. It really had been custom made for me. But more than that - it revealed my body beneath. Not entirely but a tantalizing amount. The dress was transparent except for the embroidery, which flowed elegantly over my breasts and down the side of my body, turning back in to cover between my legs. What it left to be seen was my entire midriff and most of my curvaceous right hip. My panties were also see-through in that section so it gave the illusion of me wearing nothing beneath. On the left hip, though, my dainty panty string was visible and suggestive.

The bra and dress also seemed to work to lift and press my breasts together, revealing deep cleavage I'd never realized I had. Wow. Was I a C-cup now?

The dress ended only six to eight inches down my thighs, revealing an expanse of smooth shapely legs. I had applied some cream so that they gleamed wonderfully.

Slowly I turned, observing the curves of my body in the mirror. I gasped out loud when I saw the back...or lack thereof. The dress wasn't just revealing in the back - it was backless. How had I not felt that upon slipping it on? My toned and shapely back stood clear for any to see, with only a couple delicate embroideries spanning shoulder to shoulder. The largest piece of fabric across the back was an 8 inch strip covering my ample ass, which was also wonderfully accentuated by the dress (and thankfully fully covered, if barely). The stilettos forced me into the proper poster - back straight, shoulders back, ass and breasts thrust out.

I turned back around and sat back down on my bed, feeling dazed. That beautiful, sexy woman...was me....I'd never looked this good before - not in my entire life.

I glanced at the clock. Gabriel would expect me out any second. He didn't like it when I was late. I shook my head and took some deep breaths. A job. This was a job. A job. I was Jennifer's boyfriend.

I stood, running through my plan to stand up to Gabriel in my mind, I took one last look at the goddess in the mirror. As I turned to walk out of the room, I suppressed any eagerness to get started. A job. Just a job.

---------

I entered the living room and, as usual when I first entered for our sessions, Gabriel's back was turned as he was preparing his paints. Though these sessions had become routine after months, I felt my heart thumping hard this time for some reason.

I was nervous...I guessed that the idea of standing up to him was what was making me nervous.

I cleared my throat and he turned, my heart rate rising even more. His eyes locked on to me and I held my breath.

He didn't say anything. He just stared at me with that penetrating look, his dark eyes intent on mine. He swept his gaze up and down my body slowly, then returned to match my stare. His eyes bore into mine.

This was....new. He'd never looked at me this hard before, not this early in a session. His hazel eyes were like cold ice and I found I couldn't look away. After what seemed like an eternity, he broke eye contact, not betraying any emotion on his handsomely dark & brooding face. I felt weak at the knees.

He nodded towards the fireplace, not saying a word. He stepped back to his easel, then turned and facing me again as he raised the brush. I walked towards the fireplace, showing my profile as I walked and conscious of my posture and my curves under his gaze.

Finding positions to pose was natural to me now, and I moved to the hearth and rested my hands on it. Knowing my back and butt looked incredible tonight, I faced away from him, looking back over my shoulder. I arched my back and made sure to press out my luscious ass for him.

He nodded at my pose, not correcting even one aspect of it. I felt a swell of pride at that. I could feel the weight of that stare as he reached for his brushes and started. Each time his eyes fell to me I found it hard to breath.

He'd painted me so many times before, but this time was somehow different. Was it just because I was going to stand up to him soon?

Every session we'd ever had I had stared him down, matching him look for look, refusing to back down in this one thing, even when I had begun submitting to him later on. The fire of my hatred for him burned hottest at these times. But for once, I found myself glancing away from him repeatedly, unable to handle his intensity.

I took a deep breath. This was a job.

Whenever we would lock eyes my breath would catch. I felt vulnerable under that stare. I may have hated the guy but I had begrudgingly grown comfortable being in the same room as him, even as Mishel. But now he felt dangerous, predatory. I found myself becoming more and more nervous. Gone was my confidence of earlier, replaced with fear and anticipation of...what? What did that look mean? Even when I glanced away, I felt my eyes pulled back by his. Why couldn't I stop looking at him.

Tonight he wore a turtleneck knit sweater made of thick grey wool and fitted black pants. The sweater fit him loosely but failed to hide the bulk of his body, and bulged out enticingly at his shoulders and along his arms. It was tight across his broad chest and fell loose over his core. His pants weren't too tight to be feminine, but were tight enough to make obvious the thickness and power of his legs. They were also decidedly tight around the crotch, perhaps increasingly so as I repeatedly checked throughout the session.

After what felt like an eternity, Gabriel stopped painting. He stared intently at the canvas, then nodded his head once and looked up at me again. My heart was pounding again and it spiked more on that look.

"Come." he said. The first word he'd said all night.

I turned and walked slowly to him, walking in the heels as I had practiced, swaying my hips. It was automatic at this point.

I approached, staring up at Gabriel. He was looking at the painting, his arms crossed in front of him, the stance accentuating the raw power of his upper body. I had a sudden urge to drop to my knees in front of him and begin part 2. I fought it off with difficulty. No more, a tiny voice in my head said.

"You see what she wants?" Gabriel asked, nodding to the painting.

I turned to the painting and found something new. The woman in the painting was sexy and beautiful, as always, though she had a more elegant nature to her than in most of her other paintings. Though, at the same time, she was much more suggestive than usual as well. But there was also something about the way she looked back over her shoulder. Rather than the usual look of determination and passion, this woman looked to be a combination of excited and nervous. As if she was waiting for something.

"Do you see it?" Gabriel asked again softly, stepping back so he was behind me instead of beside me.

I tried to answer but my voice cracked. I cleared it but lost any words again when Gabriel brought his hands to me, still standing behind me. One hand ran down my left hip and the other began caressing my neck and collarbone. I was trembling now.

"That is a woman," he continued, "who is filled with lust. Lust and fear. Look at her stare - as if at a wolf by its prey. Yet she doesn't run. She is intrigued. She is obsessed."

As he said these words, his hands began exploring my body more insistently.

"No..." I whispered, my hands going to his forearms, feebly resisting. His arms were granite in my hands. He may not have even noticed my resistance.

"The man she stares at. He owns her. She is his. She knows this. She loves this. And yet still she fights, she resists."

"Gabriel...I..." My voice came out high, panting.

His hands found my breasts and began kneading them. I moaned in spite of myself.

I...I had been planning to say something tonight, hadn't I? I was going to...what...my head felt full of cotton. I couldn't focus on anything other than Gabriel and the girl in the painting.

His fingers went to my chin and turned my face towards his. Those eyes. A girl could get lost in the deep pool of those eyes and never return. Rough stubble covered his strong chin and jawline, and ended just before his prominent cheekbones. A few strands of his dark hair, now longer, fell over his face. A ruggedly handsome face that was so serious, so intense as he regarded me.

He squeezed and caressed my tits as he stared into my eyes.

"Mmmmm....these have developed better than even I hoped, Mishi."

"I...ahhhh..." I groaned from the sensation of Gabriel's hands squeezing me, like tiny electric shocks running down my front and to my groin.

"I...don't know what you mean..." I managed to get out.

"Your body. It is developing nicely to a woman's. I had read it would take longer, and was not expecting such good results."

My heart pounded. What the hell was he talking about?

I couldn't form the words though. Not with what he was doing to me. "Whaaatttt??"

"The hormones. They are working." He said as he squeezed me harder, one hand leaving to slide down my hip and along my ass and inner thighs. I squirmed and gasped.

Wait, what!? "Ho...hormones?" I managed.

"Yes, Mishi."

It hit me. My body's changes - my lush hair, my smooth hairless skin, my round ass, my thick and shapely legs, my flat stomach. And my growing tits.

The coffee.

Gabriel had made me coffee every morning for months and months. And I drank it. Every. Single. Fucking. Morning.

I gasped with the realization.

"Ahhh yes. Now you see, Mishel."

I regained some of my self control. I felt anger rising up in me, white hot.

"How could you!" I spat. I tried to step back but Gabriel held me tight against him. "I never asked for this." I sobbed, overwhelmed, my anger now mixing with panic and despair. What had he turned me into? I was struggling now, desperate to get away.

"What does it matter what you ask? It is as I wanted it. And just look at you." He grabbed my chin again and raised it so I looked into his eyes again, blinking through tears. "And let's be honest. I think you knew already. How could you not, yes?"

"I...." I cut off. I couldn't face that. Not the fact that I had known...and complied...and consented through my actions....No...I didn't know....not really...not fully...

"My beautiful girl." He brushed my long hair out of my eyes. "Shall we continue where we left off, Mishi?"

I looked from one eye to another. I was filled with anger, with venom, with absolute terror. But also...what? Anticipation? Even through the haze of my fear and fury, he was so handsome...

"Gabriel...you cannot..."

He moved his head down and brought my chin higher. His lips pressed into mine and my words were lost.

I fought. I struggled to break free, squirming. Refusing to give him any satisfaction. Not one inch. I kept my mouth shut and tried, unsuccessfully, to turn my head away. I thrashed against his body. He was so strong though, so large. He handled me so easily. I fought on, though. He couldn't be rewarded for his horrible deeds. I kept my mouth shut tight, forced my body not to respond to his touch.

But he kept going. His fingers teased my body - my legs, my breasts, my hips, my ass. His hands were everywhere, feeling me through this thin tight dress and driving me crazy. I squirmed, so small pressed up against his enormous body.

All the while he kissed me, pressing against my lips and trying to tease them open with his tongue. I tried turning my head away but he held my chin locked in place, pressing his lips against me insistently, intoxicatingly.

I was so tired. Not just from tonight, but from months and months of fighting. It was exhausting. For so long I had spent time only with Gabriel, dressed as a woman and treated as a woman. There was no one else to acknowledge what I really was. So my constant fight went without support or recognition. I fed the fight with my anger. But it was just so draining. Even knowing what I now knew - that he had done this to me - that he had changed me! Even with that, I was just so drained.

Slowly, bit by bit, I gave in. I just didn't have the energy, or the will, required to keep fighting him. I began responding to his touch, pressing my breasts into his hand when he found them, pushing my small lithe body back against his broad muscled one, Grinding my ass against his crotch. It was easy to give in. Natural. It felt...right. Oh godd he was so big. I could feel him pressing into my ass.

And I kissed him. Oh god did I kiss him. I responded gently, reluctantly, at first. Then with increasing enthusiasm. He tasted so good. Soon I had opened my mouth and accepted his delicious tongue, sucking on it and running my own against it. Growing more passionate, I kissed him hungrily, biting at his lips, my teeth brushing against his in my desperation to kiss him harder and harder. I turned so I was facing him and threw my arms over his broad shoulders to rest my hands on his thick neck, pulling him into me and squeezing myself against him.

His hand had long fallen away from my chin. It was no longer necessary. Now he explored my body with both his long fingers. I was like a tiny plaything in his large hands.

He found my ass and he squeezed hard. Painfully hard. Gloriously hard. Like a real man. I moaned, arching my back and pressing my voluptuous cheeks harder into his hands.

Suddenly, my back hit something hard and I realized I was pressed against the brick wall of our living room. How did we get there? I hadn't realized we had moved.

I continued to kiss him desperately, my hands roaming all over his powerful body. One hand fell to his crotch and I began stroking his long thick cock through his pants, moaning into his mouth.