The Mysterious Village of St. Sienna Ch. 03

The legend of the village of St. Sienna. pt 3

The deep tanned look commonly found on the face of those well-off Anne Walters looked across the small table at the outdoor café. Success-driven her son's fiancée Colleen smiled back before speaking.

"I love the smell business in the morning...especially when I make money...it smells like victory...just closed a deal worth near 4 million...my commission will put a tidy sum in my pocket...So we give it a month maybe two then head over...I wonder how they'll look?...I suppose finding new interests they'll no longer be debating the infield fly rule."

Having played womens softball in college Anne laughed at the reference from the career-oriented female she'd looked forward to having as her daughter-in-law.

"I'm not all that sure of what to expect but yes Ms. Renault...I mean Jennifer said we will be pleasantly surprised...in the mean time she will find something to keep them occupied after the surprised disruption to their schedule and former appearance."

Colleen looked at the woman that was to become her mother in law.

"It must be daylight there...I wonder where they are ...you know ...what they're doing right now?"

Albert laid a blanket on Frank while he busied himself going through their backpacks and gear. Taking a glance at the altered body he was delighted to see the features had changed to those of an attractive woman.

He slipped the t-shirt on Frank before doing the same to himself even though both coverups now looked oversized. Soon he too grew tired and fell asleep next to his step-father.

When Jean Terrot planned the caper he tried to include thinking about all the possibilities that could go wrong with the heist. At 3' by 2' the oil painting by the master impressionist Renoir would fetch a heavy sum despite its small size.

The talented art thief though knew he wanted a couple of young bucks that were athletically fit to help pull it off. Still in all he needed to be resilient aware things rarely went according to plans.

Jean thought himself to be subtly ingenious getting on the maintenance crew that kept the grounds of the private home well-manicured with the lawns cut and shrubbery meticulously trimmed.

Adhesive kept the faux grey beard in place while a wig provided a look that had the criminal looking 20 years older than his current 42. Once on the job Jean took to trimming the hedges near the house perhaps it was his eye for detail that made them look perfectly done. The task allowed him to view the security system's camera locations and figure out the best approach to circumvent them.

After a month of sweet-talking one woman from the cooking staff he had secured an impression of the kitchen's back-door key by using a putty like substance. Spotting it under the home's front staircase he had yet to find a key coded numerical lock he wasn't able to disarm.

With Jacques as the wheel man and lookout and Pierre as his inside helper the three drove off to the field an hour outside Paris where the small single engine plane waited. Jean had learned to have a separate floatable backpack with only the stolen piece of art inside in case it needed to be stashed while on the run.

Having learned how to fly when Jean was in his early twenties the three took off airborne at 2 in the morning with the Renoir classic wrapped in a dark cloth covering that had an inner flexible piece of airtight waterproof plastic.

The trick was to get passed the boundaries of France before the authorities knew the oil painting had been stolen.

Nearing the mountain range the plane's instrument dials began to go haywire. With Jean at the controls a look of grave concern on his face he stared at Pierre and Jacque. Knowing they were close his hope was they'd pass the country's border.

"Mes camarades ca na pas l'air bien."

His younger comrades agreed nodding their heads they knew the situation didn't look good.

The engine started to cough out with moments of sputtering. Putting it on automatic pilot the three had no choice but to parachute out as lightening could be seen in the near distance.

A 30 second or so delay Jacques and Pierre jumped out of the stolen small Cessna airplane caring little for where it may crash. Jean waited a greedy thief at heart his mind was already planning on how he could ditch the two and keep the stolen classic for himself.

The two way ahead as Jean checked the back-pack a final time before jumping the wind pushed them in separate directions...little did they know all three would land somewhere on the outskirts of a village called St. Sienna.

The moment he thumped to the ground in the near darkness he knew he'd twisted his ankle or worse. After rolling the parachute in a ball Jean gave a rub to the leg through his pants cursing himself for not having made a better descent.

The throbbing pain growing stronger he spotted an entrance of a cave as the dawn drew near. The more he thought about it he realized it would be a good location to remain hidden until he could figure out what to do next. Exhausted it wasn't long before he passed out

The burly woman drove the team of two horses with a collection of stacked flowers she'd banded earlier that morning in back of the wagon. Her last name meaning 'weaver' in French Evelyn Bisset had lived in the village most all her adult life.

The moment she saw Albert and Frank lying there sleeping a smile came on her face. Hopping down off the bench seat she padded the side of one of her horse's face as she spoke.

"Plus de Nouvelles fleurs dans le jardin de la feminite."

The woman pushed aside some of the banded flowers in her wagon. Lifting them up one at a time she thought about how she commented that they were 'more new flowers in the garden of femininity' as she laid each in the wagon.

Evelyn pulled to the shop's back door entrance the open aired wagon jostling to a stop was enough to startle Albert and Frank.

Waking up on the ride to town the step-father was beside himself to find out he looked much like Albert. To stunned to speak he felt a wave of submissiveness wash over him on seeing he had a feminine body. A quick lift up of the t-shirt's end let him see how small his penis had become to go with the pair of b-cup breasts.

Albert leaned over a girlish smile on his face he kissed the cheek of Frank glad there was a vagina between his own legs.

The woman shop-keep stared at the larger Evelyn as she spoke still sitting on the wagon's bench seat.

"J'ai ramasse quelques animaux errants Bridgette."

"Two new strays ...how lovely Evelyn...I have just the place for some of this season's darling protégés...come let's get them sorted out."

As Frank shimmied down past the collection of flowers on either side his t-shirt rose. He drew back before accepting the out-stretched hands of Evelyn as she helped him to the ground. A good 4" shorter his thin 130 pound frame made him seem small standing next to the beefy woman that had drove the two to town.

"Un tel gachis...il pourrait utilizer un bon nettoyage."

"Yes ..such a mess...both could use a good cleaning...right this way darling."

Her arm around Frank Bridgette looked at Evelyn as she helped Albert out of the wagon.

"Son temps Jj'ai commence a penser a quelques jolis noms."."

Evelyn smiled she enjoyed hearing the woman declare 'it's time I started thinking of some pretty names'. Her boutique being what it was so often it was Bridgette that came up with names for new initiates into the ways of the village of St. Sienna.

The two young sales women stood at the back entranceway knowing they each would take one of the former males.

With her assistants Alison and Estelle at the rear door of the shop looking on Bridgette stared at Frank and Albert.

"Parlez-vous francais ou juste anglaise?"

Albert respectively squeaked out an answer.

"Pardonnez-moi madame...bonjour...just English."

The woman's hand glazed across his face.

"Nice complexion...I'll call you Claire...you go with Alison."

Albert smiled as he replied.

"Qui madame...Claire...so pretty I like my name."

Bridgette replied to Albert.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg...you'll come to like much more trust me...now run along with your mentor Alison you cute little feminine plaything."

A look of authority if not dominance on Alison's face Albert felt a quiver run through his body. A light gentle sway to his boobies acted as a reminder Albert was in a whole new world he truthfully knew little about.

As though a typical male assumption how long had he consider himself to be the dominant one between him and his fiancée Colleen? One look at Alison and he knew such was not the case.

They looked to be near the same age yet the way she spoke to him it was like he was a child. Firm yet caring the young woman came across as his dominant female authority figure that expected to be obeyed.

"Such a lovely name for a pretty thing ...take my hand Claire...you're about to enter that special place of feminine delight."

Frank still processing the transformation hesitantly looked at Bridgette as she spoke.

"You...I think we shall call Amelie ...now be a good girl and go with Estelle...consider her to be your superior and mentor she'll assist in having you made clean and presentable."

Not used to it Frank's hands clutched at the long hair trying to keep it in back. His arms lifting as his fingers collected it the man of 47 felt the unmistakable feeling of the breasts swaying under his t-shirt.

The aroma in the back of the clothing and lingerie store smelled of lavender. As his shower and clean off was nearing its end he looked at Estelle who was sizing him up.

Powdered and perfumed after the dry off 'Amelie' held still only to see him put in a pair of high heels with an ankle straps the woman locked into place. A soft colored robe on he remained quiet as she did his face and fixed his hair. A bit of a 'suicide blonde' to her look part of Frank was already falling under her feminine aura as Estelle finished the last of the mascara to his lifted lashes.

He had built a company on his own yet he felt like what he appeared as...a novice yet pretty woman filled with potential about to be pulled into the influence and seduction of glamour.

Naked underneath the robe a gentle smile came on his face awash in makeup on seeing her color his nails. The woman led him down a hall to stand at the closed door. Hands on her hips she motioned for him to remove the covering and step inside what he presumed to be a changing area.

Teetering in the 3' heels as he slipped the robe off a sense of womanly pride overcame him when he thrust his chest out. Naked but for the heels he stepped inside wondering where Albert was.

Hearing the door lock his first look was to drop his eyes to see the odd site of the diminished sized penis below the pretty pair of breasts on his soft smooth hairless body. Giving a shake to his styled hair he considered even if it was hard it might only be 3" at maximum.

It was when Amelie lifted his head that he really became shocked. The room wasn't a changing area instead it was a display window in the shop known as 'Bridgette's fine lingerie and intimate wear'.

There was no other way to say it the open space with a large plate-glass window left nowhere to hide. A small table with a drawer in the corner had a thin full-length mirror affixed to the wall behind it. On the table was a vase of fresh flowers selected from Evelyn's delivery wagon.

Standing in the corner window 'Amelie' could see the village single main street was beginning to come alive. Grocery satchel in hand the mid-60ish female approached.

It was a play on the original phrase coined by the British government's ministry as a way of boosting morale during the Battle of Britain.

'Keep Calm and lick a vagina'...the words on her T-shirt a brief moment of humor he looked out the window. An older woman her sexual appetite and the desire for its obligatory mating dance likely having long since gone stale gave a cursory look his way before turning back to attend to her errands.

Ready for hunting season just then two women who looked to be in their late 20's rode up on horses. Hopping off the saddles tying up their mares each looked like they were out of a western cowboy movie so popular in the mythical wild west lore that made up part of the culture of the United States.

The one made a motion swaying her hips as her friend chuckled staring at 'Amelie's' predicament. Lifting his hands he stared at the colored nails seemingly out of nowhere he got the urge to imitate. A thin hand-span waist he took to swaying his flaring hips a feeling of being totally objectified as a female rose up inside.

The one slapped at her fanny in the tight jeans only to see him do likewise against his bare skin. Amelie soon got into the rhythm arms lifting he gave off a shake of his boobies. It was enough he could feel the arousal building. Arching his back Amelie leaned forward letting his b-cups move closer to the glass of the display window.

His inner masculinity dwindling his hands slowly slid up as he cupped his breasts into a scoop. He wasn't sure if the two heard him yet he let out a girlish coo on feeling his nipples. His mind hadn't yet made the full leap into womanhood...how could he have such lovely breasts on the body near total that of a woman's?

Hands on hips his legs spread he felt his little 3' penis go hard. Part of Amelie felt so embarrassed was this really as big as it would get? Soon he was drawing a crowd as a few other women in town stood by the window. The lightweight touch of the layer of makeup made him pretty.

The two dressed as cowgirls put a 'betty-boop' of a look to their mouths mocking him. Amelie once more imitated them. He felt the urge to touch his small penis. The one lifted her hand and waggled it making a 'no better not do it' sign.

Just then the thin door in back to the display window opened. He turned to hear Estelle the assistant giving him a reprimand. Nodding his head Amelie went to the small table.

Opening the drawer he saw a pair of panties and a bra. It was then that he realized he was to be a live model showing off some of the lingerie that was on sale at the intimate wear boutique.

Slipping the bra and pantie set on he turned back to see the crowd had left. Behind the door Estelle looked at Bridgette.

"I forget ...why do some get vaginas and others not right away."

The woman replied.

"Part of the mystery of the spell of St. Sienna's village I guess...truth is each transformation is a little different...there seems to be 3 general categories...there have been cases where the male creature in blossom..."

Bridgette paused and hesitated searching for the right words.

".. if they experience an intense orgasm right away they quite often are brought to a full conversion shortly thereafter...though not always...as best we can figure some have more testosterone than others...yet with these whatever their conception of a woman is ...is often what they become...so if their ideal woman is big breasted floozy so too are they."

Neatly folding the collection of camisoles she looked up at Estelle.

"Cherchez la femme...deep in their soul 'they look for the woman'...In their mind if they feel a woman should be voluptuous yet docile...playful sex kittens incapable of critical thinking many times that becomes their destiny..."

Bridgette stacked the two piles of cams seperately.

"...if others think a woman is only best living as a doting housewife ...her days filled with endless cleaning...kept pretty as she is doing the chores ...yet being expected to be sexually submissive they discover that is exactly what they've turned into... in the end they all end up the same...lovely women with a docile bent."

Once more she paused.

"You need to remember Estelle...it's an improvement...that leaving their male world behind and becoming a woman is an improvement...think about yourself ...you enjoy being a woman right?"

"Oui madame."

"It's no different...they are given the gift of femininity...allowed the privilege of living their life as female's...though in a twist of fate...most likely how they've always treated women...as pretty yet subservient beings."

The pair of cowgirls stood at the other corner to see Claire posing in her display window as though Albert had always been a girl. She'd been smart enough to put on her bra and pantie set giving an indication her feminine intuition was on the rise.

Claire preened and strutted in the pair of skyscraper heels a flip of the hair, a bit of a bimbo pout to her lips the new 'girl' looked like she had stepped right out of Vogue magazine as a born lingerie model.

"Such a tart...lets go say hello to Giselle before getting on our way."

It was an annual tradition for the two a couple of shots of whiskey as a way of kicking off the 'hunting season' as many in town called it.

End of part 3 ...