Byron the Bastard, Part 4

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Synopsis:

Byron is transformed and doesn't like it one little bit!

Story:

Byron the Bastard
by Jezzi Stewart
 ©2004 Turn Right Productions

Since I started this, I have also uncovered among my salvaged school materials several Montgomery Ward catalogs from the early '30's, so there may be more illustrations. Each chapter will, however, continue to be built around one of the original nine illustrations from "True Love Stories" of May, 1930.

This is dedicated to my fellow authors and, I hope, my friends Angel O'Hare, Maddy Bell, and Gwen Lavyril who have honored me by including me in their stories. You three are in this whether you like it or not! :-)

Part 4 April 1, 1934 Byron/Maddy

"Oh, shit!" Byron's vision was clearing rapidly and as he jerked himself up into a sitting position, he could feel those twin lace and silk covered hills move. "What the hell???" He hooked his finger in the V of what he realized was a woman's nighty and pulled it away from him. Breasts! And they sure as hell looked real. He touched his right nipple and an electric shock ran through him right down to the ... the ... "OHMYGAWD!" he screamed, and didn't recognize the woman's voice doing it. 'REAL!' he thought, 'AND MINE!' He pulled up the bottom of the nighty and discovered he was wearing matching panties. He frantically worked his hand under the lacy waistband, only to find inverted what had always been extended. "HOLY SHIT!" came out of his (?) mouth several octaves higher than he was used to. He was a goddamned girl, a REAL GOD DAMNED GIRL! And the tits! Bigger than Carol's, he guessed. Carol. CAROL! Had she somehow done this to him, her and that bitch friend of hers, Angel??? But how? ... He'd worry about the how later; For now: "CAROL! CAROL, GET YOURSELF IN HERE NOW. WHAT THE GODDAMNMOTHERFUCKINGPITOFHELL HAS HAPPENED TO ME!" His voice! ... Her voice! By that time he (?) was standing beside the bed and, looking down, noticed for the first time his Fire Engine Red toenails; he glanced at his hands, and those similarly colored nails seemed to glint mockingly at him. Toes painted; fingers painted; dressed in a silk and lace nighty and panties. This hadn't happened to him ... but it had. It had been DONE to him! "CAROLYOUBITCHCUNTMOTHERlovingcocksuc... " What finally temporarily defeated him was the fact that his shouting did not sound at all threatening in his new girlie voice - that, and he caught sight of himself in the mirror and saw "her"self ... drop dead gorgeous, terminally cute herself, every inch, it seemed, a female. He did the female thing. Byron collapsed back onto the bed and cried till he ... she passed out.

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Angel started to laugh, but caught herself when she glanced at Carol. Her friend was staring through the "window" at the sobbing girl who had been her husband, and she was, probably unknowingly, crying herself as well, silent tears of anguish. "oh, Ange, she's miserable! Why did we do this to him?" There was anguish in her voice.

Angel felt a bit ashamed at the pleasure she was experiencing at Byron being miserable. She would, she decided, really have to control her dislike for Byron for the sake of Carol. *My gawd, she really does love the bastard!* she thought. It looked like Byron had plenty of tears left and then he ... she would probably sleep some more. She pulled her friend onto the bed and sat beside her, hugging her.

"Remember what he did, what he cost you, hon." She gently placed her hand on Carol's tummy. "Also, remember this isn't supposed to be about punishment, but rehabilitation. We're not out to humiliate and debase "her". Once she accepts the change, We can make this an enjoyable experience for her." *And if you believe that, dear friend* she thought *I have this bridge for sale ...* She didn't believe for a minute that that misogynist bastard in the other room would enjoy any of the experience, and she didn't care, but "she" WOULD damn well pretend she did. She would make sure of that.

"Let's move her in here, so she wakes in her very own girlie girl bed in her very own girlie girl room." she said to Carol. Carol shook her head and Angel could see from her body language that she was pulling herself back together to get with the program they had agreed upon.

Carol glanced around the room and giggled. "It is sooooo little girlie, isn't it Ange. I do believe we've outdone ourselves."

Byron awoke the second time. For the second time he noticed his new configuration and wardrobe and realized that neither the first time impressions nor the impressions his senses were sending him this time were dreams. The sensations coming from his crotch, where the material of his (?) panties had worked its way up into what shouldn't have been there, reenforced his initial finding that what should have been there was missing. Further up, the rubbing of the silk nighty across his (?) nipples indicated once again they were not "his" nipples anymore. Automatically one of HER hands had risen to caress those nipples while the other descended to enter the new valley; the sensations HIS mind was receiving were definitely NOT unpleasant, so when HIS mind realized what HER hands were doing and what HE was feeling he drew both hands away. For the moment, anger was replaced by helpless horror mixed with a bit of awe at the power of someone who could do this to him. "Ohmygawd," he whispered, "I really am a girl."

If her own body was not enough to convince him, feelings of girlishness were confirmed by the room she was just beginning to take notice of. The placement of the window and the view from it confirmed that this was indeed his room, or rather, had been his room; it was now very definitely HER room. The walls were painted a light pink with a foot wide border of garden flowers against a pastel blue background circling the room at ceiling level twelve feet above the floor. An ornate crystal chandelier held the electric lights. The one large window was curtained in pastel blue chintz and looked out over the estate's formal flower gardens, green with just a few flowers beginning to bloom in this early spring season. There would be plenty of flowers to fill the vases in the room an another month, she thought, and HE was aghast at that thought, HIS first feminine thought, and realized that this new body might betray his mind. Against the wall opposite the bed was a ten foot wide by ten food high by three feet deep Louie XIV armoire, white, with pink and blue trim; the door had a floral pattern painted on it. In fact, all the furniture was Louie XIV. There was a writing desk under the window, and a dresser and a vanity flanking the door.

Every trace of him was gone. His tennis and other sports trophies had been replaced by dolls and stuffed animals. His masculine toilet articles and jewelry box had been replaced by cosmetics, a very feminine comb and brush set, and a woman's jewelry box - or, rather, more like a little girl's jewelry box, as it had the doll figure of a ballerina in second arabesque position on the lid. The pictures of English hunting scenes that had been on the walls were now ones of kittens, more ballerinas, and flowers. He shuddered to think of what was in the armoire that had replaced his brown oak one.

His survey of the room brought him back to the bed she was lying on. The sheets covering her were white with a pink border and the comforter was a pattern of roses. looking up, he realized that there was a ruffled canopy over her, also pink. The bed itself, like the rest of the furniture was Louis XIV, white with rose decoration. Her hand with the bright red nails, symbol of his betrayal, brushed against something heretofore unnoticed. It felt like hair, and, glancing to her side, he realized that it was. A doll lay beside her, a larger doll dressed in a mass of lace and ruffles that even he recognized as victorian fashion, and his hand had brushed against her hair. Even he had to admit she was quite pretty.

The doll was the straw that broke the camels back. Byron was drowning in femininity! He pulled herself up so that she was sitting with her back against the headboard. She was trembling, and he didn't realize that he had pulled the sheet up around her in such a manner as to cover her breasts even though she had the nightie on. So very feminine. He shook her head in confusion mixed with wonder, and didn't realize that he was speaking out loud. "This can't be me! I'm a man!" Her body betrayed him again, as she automatically it seemed grabbed the pretty victorian doll and hugged it to her. Betraying tears formed in her eyes as waves of estrogen poured over the sides of his mental ship of male identity. "This can't be my room," she sobbed, "This is a GIRLS room!"

As if on cue, Carol entered the room, followed closely by Angel. "Of course it is, dear." she said proudly. "Angel, Bob, Uncle Jack, and I worked very hard to make this room extra special pretty for our new girl."

"Where's all my things? What is this I'm wearing? Where Are my pajamas? What HAVE you DONE to me!?!," Byron tried to sound angry, but it came out as a wail in her new pretty voice.

"Why these ARE your things, and this IS your room, dear." said a smiling Carol, as if talking to a child. "And that nighty is so much more becoming on a lovely girl like you than those old drab pajama's of Byron's. "Don't you think everything is just so pretty?"

Carol stepped to the side, and Byron was blinded by a flash as Angel took HER picture. "Oh that is so precious, Byron," she taunted, "Your tear stained face surrounded by curls in disarray, you holding your sheet pulled up to cover your bosom while clutching your pretty dolly - why, you're the very picture of a distraught but lovely little girl. This is indeed a moment to be captured by a Kodak!" She quickly wound the film, attached a new flash bulb, and took a second picture. (*kodak Moment,* she thought, *nice turn of phrase; wonder if ... naw, they'd never buy it.*) "Now tell Mommy Carol and Auntie Angel what it is that's bothering you, sweetheart," she mocked

"Are you worried that that pretty nighty is all your new clothing?" Carol chimed in. Byron was getting angry again. He could tell that Carol and Angel were enjoying his predicament and, while he had suspected it before, this proved to him beyond a doubt that they were somehow responsible for it. The anger built as Carol pulled out one of the dresser drawers. "See," she continued indicating a mass of silk, lace, and ruffles in various pastel shades that lay within, "you have plenty of adorable lingerie, and see," she pointed to where Angel stood, having opened the armoire, revealing what byron could only assume were only women's clothes, all in ultra feminine styles, "all the clothes a pretty girl could need."

"Aren't you the lucky one!" exclaimed Angel.

It was too much. Byron threw aside the sheet and sprang from the bed, throwing the doll into the corner in the process. He faced the two women in a very masculine stance, which looked absolutely ridiculous given her nicely curved and femininely shaped body. Both women broke into laughter, and Angel took another picture. "Look over there! In the corner! On the floor!" she shouted. He spun around presenting her backside to the women and bent at the waist to look. There was nothing there, so he looked back over her shoulder just in time to look right into a blinding flash from the camera. "OHMYGAWD, it worked!" she cried. "What a pic! Oh, little miss ruffle butt, what a pretty girlie pin up pose you gave me!" Suddenly a vision of what SHE must look like; HER ruffled pantied bottom presented to the camera, the surprised over the shoulder face SHE was making inscribed itself on HIS mind. Byron had had such a picture of Hollywood starlet taped to the inside of the closet door in his dorm room during his college years. Both women were almost bent over laughing at HIM!

"Little Miss Ruffle Butt!" exclaimed Carol. "Perfect! Didn't you tell me, Ange, that that's what your Aunt Gwen called you when you were a little girl and acting up? So perfect!"

"WHAT THE GODDAMNMOTHERFUCKINGPITOFHELL HAVE YOU TWO CUNTBITCHES DONE TO ME!" Shouted Byron, finally snapping and rushing at Angel - probably because she had the camera - with fists raised. "CHANGE ME BACK! ... NOW!

It should have been funny, but what with the old Byron would have caused fear in the two women, just looked pathetic to them coming from the new Byron. Byron had retained his male height as a lady, so she was taller than either Carol or Angel, and quite possibly stronger, but her shapely breasts and butt made her center of gravity quite different from what her mind, still keyed to the old male body, was used to. What was meant to be a fluid and precise strike, quickly became a stumble, and the threat of her hands balled into fists was negated by their small size and the glint of red on their fingertips. Angel, having set her Kodak on the dressing table, prepared to deliver a slap but was surprised when carol beat her to it, delivering a slap so powerful it spun Byron around and sent her sprawling face down over the bed. Like an avenging angel she moved to hover over the shocked new woman. "Oh, Byron, my dear HUSBAND!" - she made a mockery of the word, as months of pent up anger spilled out. "Are you MAD at us?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, as she didn't stop for an answer. "You don't know what MAD is, you bastard!" I, you SHIT, AM MAD! And as to what we've done to you, why I think it would have sunk in to even you by now. You're no longer a bastard; you're a bitch. We've changed you into a woman. But you know, as a woman, you're just a little bitty bitch, and you know, Angel and me, why we're your worst nightmare, HONEY, because we are the biggest, baddest bitches around," Now she was shouting, and Angel had moved so she could restrain her if she got dangerously physical. "and WE ARE EXTREMELY MAD AT YOU!! Suddenly her anger vanished and she started to collapse, sobbing. "You cost me OUR BABIES; oh, Byron, how could you!" And she fainted.

Angel moved to catch her, but to her surprise, it was Byron who managed to keep her from hurting herself by pulling her to land on the bed beside her instead of on the floor. *Hmmmmm,* she thought, *maybe there is hope.* and she decided to play good cop, although it wouldn't be easy. After she had taken Carol from Byron and placed her gently in one of the chairs, she returned and stood over Byron who was still lying sprawled on her stomach on the bed. She trembled. Carol had just scared the shit out of him, and he shuddered - It came out as her trembling - to think about Angel's anger. He was pretty sure Carol loved him despite everything, but he was also pretty sure Angel detested him.

Angel smiled at him as if she could read his thoughts. It was not at all a nice smile; it was in fact, a very predatory smile, but she spoke to him in a mostly normal tone of voice. "Look, GIRLFRIEND, I'm going to try to be nice, but it'll be hard because, SHITFORBRAINS, you have hurt my dearest friend, and hurt her badly. So don't give me any, not any, excuse to become angry with you. I'll give you you're anger; I'll even name you for it. Your ex-wife came up with it. Yes," she replied to his startled look, "EX-wife, because you're a woman now and for the foreseeable future, and she is not a lesbian, not to mention the legal prohibitions. You're new name is MADeline, and we will call you MADDY. Maddy Belle; Belle, because it sounds really feminine to us, and you, my dear, are going to become the most feminine of women, the most girlie of girls! Maddy Belle O'Hare, my cousin, my Aunt Gwen's daughter. Byron has disappeared, heading west last we heard, and good riddance. Won't it be sooooo nice, cuz, us related?" She laughed and Byron imagined it must be because of the look on her face at that remark. To his own surprise, a small, tentative laugh emerged from her lips - small and tentative, but still a laugh. Angel looked surprised but pleased and continued. "Good first step, Maddy, if you can laugh, maybe there is hope. Look," she got serious, "we can change you back, and we plan to, but not for awhile, not for months, maybe even a year or two, but we WILL change you back - if you cooperate and really learn the lessons we will teach you. We want you to experience being a woman so you can understand what you did to your wife. Are you going to feel embarrassed and humiliated? Yes, at least at first. Will we enjoy that? Yes. But, while this is certainly meant to be punishment for you, it is also meant to rehabilitate you so that you are a better person when it's over." She paused. "You were a bad man; now be a good girl! If you try, you may even come to enjoy the experience." She abruptly turned away from her and moved to see about carol, who was sighing and showing signs of coming out of her faint.

*Enjoy the experience!?! The hell I will!* Byron thought to himself, any good feelings he had felt forgotten. But he realized that for the moment, the ladies held all the cards. He had no idea how they had done what they did to him, and no idea how to reverse it by himself. He didn't know anything about this new body he was in, either, and if he was going to be in it for awhile, as seemed certain unless a miracle occurred, he wanted to keep it healthy. He had known a woman out in Frisco who had had a good case of the clap, and he certainly didn't want to end up like her ... or, it suddenly occurred to HER, end up pregnant. OHMYGAWD, that was possible now! Having a period would be bad enough, and he knew he would need carol's help to get through that. Better he decided, if Maddy took over and went with the flow - he did chuckle mentally at his unintended pun. Then, in their mind, BYRON turned and opened a door. On the other side was a very masculine lounge - pool table, radio, bar, the works; HE entered. Where he had stood, Maddy remained; SHE was in charge.

Besides, thought Maddy, SHE would get even; SHE would find a way. After all, SHE was now the female of the species and, as had been pointed out to the now and for the foreseeable future third person Byron, SHE was more deadly than the male.

Her new confidence and resolve were challenged almost immediately, however as her bladder's needs coincided with Angel's reentry. Angel's arms were loaded with ominous looking rubber equipment. Taking in Maddy's body language, she gave an evil chuckle. "Time for first tinkle, love? Let Auntie Angel help. And," she held up the equipment, "No time like the present to learn about feminine hygiene."

Inside the mental lounge, Byron cringed.

to be continued

Notes:

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Comments

If only everything was so worth the wait!

Dear Jezzi,

Under subject I nearly typed 'delightful period piece' until the full horror of the pun hit me! I re-read the first three chapters last night before life tore me. protesting, away. First opportunity this morning found me devouring Chapter 4.

It is such a good read. Your prose is so clear and concise, that the the story line just glides over it. And the old prints are a joy, Not just decorative but working hand in hand with the text.

Please don't let the next episode be another eighteen months away though! Or, on second thoughts, perhaps do just that, so that I will have good reason to start the story afresh and savour the enjoyment yet again!

Hugs,

Fleurie.

Fleurie