The Facility - Pt. 01

NOTE: Hi everyone, this one features imprisonment, forced feminization, and humiliation so if that's not your bag, might want to give it a miss. Thanks! -Abi

CHAPTER ONE

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch black and my head was fuzzy. I was lying down, I was naked, and I couldn't move. I tried shifting my arms and legs, but there were was something - straps?- across my waist, arms, and feet. I could even feel cool, tight fabric on my forehead, stopping my from moving my head. I was completely immobilised.

I began panicking, shouting for help, but heard nothing but the echoes of my own voice. I began to hyperventilate. Just what the fuck had happened?

I remember the interview. Fresh out of university, I'd been looking for any job that would have me. After months of searching, I was contacted by a recruiter, Aria. She'd seen my linkedin profile, said that they'd been looking for someone to fill a very special position. Apparently, I fit the bill perfectly. I boarded a bus with a dozen other applicants -all men my age, I noticed- and we drove through endless countryside, finally coming to an elaborate mansion behind several high tech chainlink fences. As the other guys bragged and put each other down, I kept myself to myself. I was never a big talker. We parked up outside the mansion, the woman driving the bus left-

Yes. That's when the screaming started. A thick cloud of pink gas poured into the bus and the doors were sealed tight. Within seconds, I was out.

The lights suddenly clicked on, blinding me and returning me to the present. When my vision cleared, I saw that my naked body was trapped in a white plastic pod. The whole thing was featureless, no signs of hinges or an exit, and all white with the exception of the black straps keeping me bound. I pushed against the straps again. They didn't give. I began to panic, a well of fear I couldn't control.

A thick, clear goo began to flow into the bottom of the pod, it had an acidy chemical smell. It started to fill the pod, covering more and more of my body, warm to the touch. I started to panic. Was I going to be drowned? But I must have been at a slight incline. The liquid touched the bottom of my chin, but got no further. All I could do was look at my body through this warm goo. The chemical smell it made reeked.

After two minutes, without warning, a drain valve sprung open. The goo flowed out... taking with it all of my hair. Too shocked to even cry out, all I could do was look at the skin that was left behind, absolutely smooth. I could swear it was just a tiny bit softer than it was before.

I didn't stay still for what came next though. On either side of me, long slots opened. Something came out, I caught a glimpse of white, shiny silicone. It pressed up against my skin, and some machine I couldn't see wrapped it around my torso, compressing my stomach, chest and genitals tightly. I cried out, but there was no response. There was a flush of heat around my back and I felt this thing grow even tighter, sealing me in. The machinery retracted, its job done, and the hatches shut. I looked down to see I was wearing what looked like a leotard, all in thick, white rubbery, silicone. It was wrapped tightly around my body, leaving my shoulders bare, and its curves suggested a body I didn't have.

More machinery whirred. The whole front of the pod was sliding down, opening, revealing a room much like the pod I was in: white with warm striplighting in the ceiling. With a thunk, the straps retracted. I lifted myself out of the pod and hauled myself out onto the floor. To my surprise, the floors were warm to the touch. I looked around. The room was featureless except for a small dresser table with a tiny mirror and plastic white chair. There was no door as far as I could see.

I looked down at my body, at this weird swimsuit I was stuck in. I tried to pull it off, but although it had a little give, it wouldn't rip and there were no zips. I looked down at my crotch and gasped. Not only had my genitals been flattened, the padding in the leotard leaving no evidence of their presence, there was something over my crotch: a stylised camel toe, molded out of the silicone. Disgusted, I tried again to rip off the leotard, but the material just wouldn't give.

"You're sealed in. There's no way it's coming off."

A woman's voice, coming in from over a speaker I couldn't see. There was a quiet glee as she spoke.

"Good news. You are a very promising candidate indeed. Now, before you join your new sisters, you're going to have your first little lesson."

I shouted back: "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

My body suddenly spasmed in pain. This thing I was wearing, whatever it was, was pulsing with a high pitched electric whine and my body felt like it was on fire. I doubled over onto the floor.

"The first lesson is total obedience."

The pain didn't stop. I could barely move.

"Want me to turn it off?"

I gasped out a yes.

"Tell me that you're sorry for being such a difficult girl."

"I'm sorry - for being- a difficult girl-"

The pain in my body finally subsided. I stayed on the floor, breathing heavily. All was silent for a few seconds.

"Close enough. Now, get up. You're going to do exactly what I tell you, unless you want more of the same."

I pulled myself to my feet and nodded.

"Sit down at the table. Open the first drawer."

I did. Inside, perfectly laid out, was a blonde wig with pigtails and fat pink ribbons, a pair of mary jane shoes, and white hold up stockings.

"Put them on."

I hesitated. The leotard began to whine again.

In a panic, I jammed the wig onto my head and pulled on the stockings. There was a chuckling over the speaker. Next, I strapped on the shoes.

"Soon, you'll have your own lovely blonde hair. Won't you love that?"

I didn't answer. "WON'T YOU?"

"Yes. I'll love it."

"Very good. It's time to meet your sisters."

CHAPTER TWO

There was a click as a panel on the wall opened. I'd call it a door, but there was no handle, and it was invisible until it opened. I stepped through it.

I padded out into a long white corridor. A few seconds later, I saw another partition open- and someone stepped out. It was one of the guys on the bus, Ben, and he was dressed exactly the same as me: long pigtails, rubbery leotard with a molded silicone camel toe.

A voice came in over the speaker, that woman again.

"No talking. Follow the lights through to the assembly room."

As the voice spoke, a line of strip lighting start shining in green, its gentle blinking suggesting a direction.

More hatches opened. More figures stepped out. It was all the guys from the bus, all of them dressed like I was. All of us who'd been on the bus were there now, about twenty of us in all. With the tight leotards, shaved bodies, and heavy blonde pigtails, you could barely tell us apart.

One of the guys I saw bragging earlier in the bus started shouting-

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Another guy joined him, both screaming swearwords at the ceiling. That high pitched whine started again and within seconds, both were on the floor and shouting in pain. The voice over the tannoy spoke.

"I can see this year's intake is going to be difficult."

The whining continued. Both men were now gasping and we couldn't help but look. There was silence apart from the whining of these poor men whimpering and the occasional squeaking of their leotards rubbing against the plastic floor as they writhed.

"Leave them, unless you want further punishment. They'll join you after some correctional treatment."

CHAPTER 3

The rest of us padded down the corridor. None of us were willing to look at each other in the face or say anything that might incur further punishment. We followed the lights, the heels of our shoes clacking across the ground, until we came to a large pair of open double doors.

Inside, a small assembly hall, in that clinical white I was learning to dread. A row of chairs looked out onto a raised platform. On it, three women- as overdressed as we were underdressed. With their long, old-fashioned dresses and tightly bunned hair, they looked like Victorian governors. Yet, they radiated a confidence and power. The lead woman, in her mid-forties with a cruel smile on her face, addressed us.

"I'm Lady Aria Grey. My assistants are mistresses Joyce and Cordelia. Sit down."

We didn't move. One man was looking nervously at the door. Joyce noticed him, took out a small tablet and swiped it. Both of these men instantly creased in pain as that familiar high pitch whine sounded. He collapsed onto a chair. Joyce swiped again and their pain seemed to stop. Joyce shouted, like a drill sergeant.

"Follow orders or face sanction!"

Aria took centre stage.

"Who you were is gone. The life you had is gone. Here, we will train you in how to be delightful, demure, and obedient young women. Our training methods have never failed."

She smiled again. She was enjoying this. All three were.

"Welcome to Facility."

Aria paced the stage.

"We will change you all. Resist and our more aggressive methods will leave you broken and brainwashed. Obey, and we'll let you keep just a tiny bit of yourself into your new life. Lucky for you, our clients prefer it that way."

A small, shy voice spoke up.

"Clients?"

Lady Grey locked eyes with Adam, the young man who'd spoken up. There was iron and cruelty in her gaze. Adam looked down, realising he'd made a mistake. Lady Grey nodded to Joyce and Cordelia. A surge of pain that brought Adam sprawling onto the floor, then the two mistresses grabbed him and frogmarched him onto the stage. He was dazed and panicking.

"Sorry. I'm sorry Lady Grey!"

Lady Grey held Adam's chin almost fondly, as if pleased by how quickly he had been broken.

"No questions. Just do what we tell you. It'll be easier that way, won't it?

"Yes, Mistress!"

"You'll enjoy it, won't you."

"Yes Mistress!"

"Your name from now on is Amelia. A lovely name. Amelia has volunteered to show us the school dress code."

Cordelia walked over to the wall. A partition slid open, revealing a dressing rail with a dozen identical dress bags hanging from hooks. Through the transparent plastic, I could see identical costumes I recognised: each looked like a replica of Dorothy's dress from the Wizard of Oz. Cordelia took one of the dress bags and handed it to Adam. Cordelia spoke with a gleeful and bubbly enthusiasm, but there was an undertone to her voice that told you to be wary.

"This is your first uniform! All of you are clueless, taking your first steps in a wider world, being guided by powerful women. This will remind you. Open it Amelia. Show everyone how gorgeous it is."

His hands trembling, Adam unzipped the dress bag.

"Careful girl! You must learn to love what we've given you."

Adam took out the Dorothy dress. The material looked thick, the ballooning puff sleeves looked rigid, they must have been starched to high heaven. That wasn't all. Beneath the hangar was long roll up bag. In its see-through compartments, I could see an extensive set of makeup and brushes, a pair of the frilliest pink knickers I'd ever seen, a red hairband with a huge ornamental bow, and a pair of what looked like breastforms.

Cordelia stood next to him, speaking softly.

"Tell us they look lovely Amelia."

"They look lovely Mistress."

"You can't wait to try them on, can you? You can't wait to feel so sweet and girly?"

After a moment's hesitation, Adam spoke, his voice breaking.

"Yes mistress."

"This first time, I will show you."

None too gently, Cordelia got Adam to lift his legs so that she could slip the knickers up his waist. Then, she but on his hairbow and slid the breastforms into his leotard.

"These are b-cup, just the thing for ladies still learning. It'll feel tight, but you'll get used to it. "

Adam looked out at us, the humiliation turning his cheeks a bright red. The truth was, with his wig, smooth skin, and increasingly curvy body, he was on his way to looking like a woman. Over the next few minutes, Cordelia did Adam's makeup. His cheeks were rosy and soft, his eyelashes were gently thickened, and a light pink lipstick glossed his lips.

"Put on your dress, Amelia."

Adam gingerly approached the costume and slid it on over his head. Cordelia helped zip up the back. There was a click as the zip hit the top. As the dress fell to the floor, it ballooned out a couple of feet. There must have been built in petticoats.

"You're locked in until you're allowed to take it off. Don't you love it?"

"Yes mistress."

Adam looked out at Lady Grey, the two mistresses, and the rest of us, and we saw tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"Don't worry. It's not unusual for new admissions to be so overwhelmed by joy that they tear up."

Adam, through tears, choked out: "Yes Mistress."

"Curtsy to your betters. Back straight, knees bent, one foot in front of the other."

Slowly, clumsily, Adam curtsied. Cordelia spoke.

"Terrible. But we've all the time we need to teach you. Eventually, you shall all be perfect."

She turned to the rest of us.

"I hope you were all watching closely. You have twenty minutes to dress. Sloppiness will be punished."

On that cue, a door opened. Several women dressed in what looked like guard uniforms wheeled out several long clothes rails and floor length mirrors.

CHAPTER 4

We lined up to get our uniforms. All of us were silent: embarrassed, terrified, and looking down. What else was there to do?

Joyce paced the line, keeping a watchful eye. She would lean in close, as if daring us to look at her. None of us could. Cordelia was handing out uniform after uniform, as well as christening each student with their own name. Harvey became Hannah. Vincent became Vickie. Michael became Marcy.

Finally, it was my turn.

"And you are Lizzie! A lovely name for a lovely girl."

I took the dress bag and hung it on one of the clothes rails. I found myself next to Ben- now Bethany. He whispered to me. "This is fucked up." "NO TALKING," Joyce barked. Cordelia continued in her faux bubbly voice. "We don't want you sweet little airheads to get distracted! Now, take out your lovely dresses and lay them on the rail. Intimates and make-up first" Ben and I turned away from each other and opened our dress bags.

After carefully taking out the dress, I saw the makeup, the breastforms, the knickers, and the hairband, all waiting to be put on. I looked around the room. No-one was keen, everyone was waiting for someone else to start. Joyce, walking among us like a predator, saw what was happening. She grabbed one of the boys - his name was now Fiona - and struck him in the stomach. He doubled over and Joyce hauled him over onto her lap. Joyce turned to one of the guards who'd wheeled in the racks.

"Paddle."

The guard unclipped something from her belt: a flat leather paddle. Then Joyce began spanking Fiona fiercely, the sounds reverberating around the room. The first couple of strikes took Fiona's breath away. He did nothing but gasp. A few strikes later, he was squirming. Then, he was begging for mercy. After what felt like an eternity, Joyce stopped and pushed Fiona off her lap, sending him sprawling to the floor. Fiona was a mess, her wig askew, her face wet with tears, her bum a crimson red.

"Fix yourself and get dressed."

Joyce turned round to us. "Anyone else?"

We all turned to our racks with speed. I pulled the knickers up around my waist: underneath the frills, they had a thick elastic that gripped like me tight belt. Next, were the breastforms. I had to push and squeeze them both in. Eventually, they sat flush against my chest, their forms just hidden by the curves of the leotard.

I looked around the room. All of us were wondering what to do next. Cordelia clapped her hands in glee.

"Marvellous. Next is makeup. For your first time, you'll get help, but soon we'll expect you to do alll by yourself!"

The guards split us into groups of three, taking us all to a mirror. We were drilled in blusher, mascara, blusher, lipstick. The first few times, we looked ridiculous. But every time, the guards used thick sponges to wipe off the makeup and told us to try again. An hour later, we were all identical and immaculate: soft pink lips, light blusher giving us rosy cheeks, and subtle mascara.

"Very good girls. Now, put on your beautiful dresses. Pair up and help each other with the zips."

Ben met my eye then looked away again, too embarrassed to ask. I walked up to him, understanding. Soon, I'd need his help too. He pulled the dress over his head and it was the perfect size, puffing out and settling gently just above his mary jane shoes. He turned his back to me and I pulled the zip up. When it hit the top, I heard the click of a lock. The zip was frozen in place.

He turned round and I was taken aback. With his makeup, the breastforms, the wig, the dress... he looked for all of the world like a girl, he knew it, and he hated it. Next it was my turn.

I was surprised by how heavy the dress was. The underskirt and sewed on apron were made of thick synthetic cloth: they gave off a clean plasticky smell and there was no sign of give. I lifted it up above my head and I saw the inside was lined with built in ribbing, enough to fluff the skirt out a few feet and ensure no crumpling. I pulled the dress down, worked my arms through the thick puff sleeves and pulled it into place. It was a snug fit and I'm sure that was no accident. The skirt formed a perfect bell shape around my legs.

The only thing left was the zip. I turned my back to Ben, feeling a dropping feeling in my stomach. Gingerly, keen to avoid touching any part of my body he didn't have to, he zipped me all the way up. I felt a click as the zip fell into place and I knew I was locked in. The dress was heavy on me. Moving my arms was difficult, the puff sleeves had some leeway, but they fought me every step of the way. I wasn't going to be able to go anywhere fast in this thing.

"Now ladies, give your partner a curtsy and thank them by name for helping you."

I did my best to give Ben a curtsy. "Thank you Bethany." He returned my curtsy. "Thank you Lizzie."

Cordelia looked around the room, delighted. "Such friendly girls. You're all going to have such a great time. It's almost time for lessons to start, but before then, let's reintroduce you to two of your sisters."

The sound of hard shoes hitting the floor. Through the hallway door, guards came flanking in with the two men we'd left writhing out in the corridor. None of us were ready for what we saw.

Both were holding hands. Both were resplendent in long ballgowns made of bright pink satin. Pink bows and ribbons lined both of their costumes and the petticoats underneath pushed out each of their dresses almost six feet- with their joined hands, they were close enough that their skirts were rubbing up against each other. To top it off, there was their perfect makeup, complete with sparkling glitter, and silver tiaras jammed into pink wigs that exploded with sausage curls.

"Meet Leah and Roberta. They were a little emotional at first, but after they understood how great their lives were going to be, they decided to dress as the most darling princesses. Do you have anything to say to your sisters?"

Both Leah and Roberta looked pained. What they'd just gone through, I could only shudder to think. But after a moment of hesitation, both forced big empty smiles and dipped a perfect curtsy to us, still holding hands. They spoke in unison.

"We're sorry for causing such a fuss."

Cordelia clapped. "Leah and Roberta are have decided to help each other through it. In fact, they've decided to hold hands all day today. Isn't that sweet?"

Again, in unison: "Yes, mistress."