Sunday, June 19, 2016

Out of the Closet

Coming out is only the first step

Sneaking into Janae’s house was risky, but I knew damned well she had the answer key to the test.  Getting over the fence was easy, climbing up to her second floor room was a piece of cake, and jimmying her window open was simplicity itself.  The big issue was not getting caught.  Not only was her mother the principle at school, but her father was some crazed inventor.  Who knew what he’d do finding some guy in his daughter’s room?

So when I heard her approaching the door I did the only thing I could think of… hide in her huge closet.  Before I slid the door shut I could see that this was no normal walk in.  There were some kind of mechanical arms amongst the racks and racks of clothes.  But once the door was shut I couldn’t make out exactly what those arms were for.  I tried feeling around and brushed some kind of button.  That’s where the trouble began.  I couldn’t see what was going on but felt to of the arms grab my ankles while two others grabbed my wrists.  A small screen lit up and displayed “Dressing Mode Activated.  Voice Recognition Running.  Please State Desired Attire.”

I tried whispering what I assumed were commands like ‘cancel’, ‘end program’, and ‘get me the fuck out of this contraption’, but it just displayed “Voice Not Recognized.  Please Try Again.”  Outside the closet I heard Janae start talking to someone on the phone.  As she spoke I saw the voice recognition catching her words.  It discarded them as irrelevant until she talked about one of her girlfriend frenemies and called her ‘Slutty’.  The word ‘Slutty’ became highlighted but it kept listening.  I tried speaking quietly again but now it didn’t even respond to my words, still listening to Janae’s conversation.  When she ended the conversation by saying “… see you at school girl.” The word “School-Girl” was added, making the screen show ‘Slutty School-Girl’. 

As I heard Janae step out of her room the arms started their insidious work.  The first of many arms started undressing me while another started collecting my hair up into some kind of cap.  As I twisted my head to get away the screen displayed “Danger, Excess Movement May Lead To Injury.  Safety Protocols Initiated.”  While another arm wrapped a leather strap around my neck.  It tightened until I stopped moving and then both held my body still and cut off my voice. 

I could feel the machine working as the screen showed it’s steps.  “Removal Of Current Attire” was accompanied by it pulling all of my clothes off.  “Body Hair Removal” was followed by it quickly lathering and shaving my entire body.  The mere thought of it cutting me made me stay very still.  “Skin Prep” corresponded with it wiping some kind of lotion all over my now sensitive bare skin.  “Slutty Stimulation” equated to it lubricating my anus and insertion of what felt like a lightly vibrating butt plug.  “Lingerie” equaled it sliding a tiny thong up and pulling it tight between my cheeks along with it rolling some kind of stockings up my legs. “Enhancement” on the screen preceded two fleshy things being glued to my chest and then covered by some kind of tied off shirt.  Next came a wig that I could feel spilling over my shoulders and was woven into my own cap covered hair.  “Dress” showed next and a tiny skirt was pulled around my waist. 

The machine paused, but my hope of it being over was dashed when the screen started flashing “Beauty”.  The bands around my wrists tightened and I felt something being glued to my fingernails while my face was being worked on.  I can’t count how many arms this thing had, but it was simultaneously applying a foundation, eye lashes and eye shadow, plucking my eyebrows, and throwing on coat after coat of lipstick.  When it seemed happy with what I assumed was my makeup the arms lifted me up and put some shoes on.  The door then opened and all the arms let go of me.  I tried to look at the control panel and find some kind of ‘reverse’ or ‘undo’ option but I started to fall forward and out of the closet.  It seems that the shoes it put me in were some kind of high heels. 

By the time I regained my balance and turned around the door slipped shut and I saw myself in the full length mirror.  I was shocked.  Even looking closer I couldn’t see any sign of me under these slutty school-girl clothes.  My smooth skin, perfectly made up face, and long hair all were just as feminizing as the clothes themselves.  While still staring at myself I heard the door to Janae’s room open up while her mom walked in. 

“Oh.. I didn’t know you stayed the night Marisa.  That is such a cute costume!  It’s a little on the risqué side, but I’m sure you’re going to win the contest!  I’m so glad Janae finally shared her closet with you.  I’ll let her father know that it works well on different people.  Now let’s get a move on, we don’t’ want you to be late for school.  I’m afraid Janae already left, but I’ll give you a ride to school.”

source:  Passion for Pleats