Chapter 5: The fight becomes more desperate

Paul gradually came back to consciousness, fighting a dense fog of confusion. It took longer to focus now, and his body was starting to feel more natural. The magic from the sheets had disappeared, and he was able to push them apart, pulling bits of sheet from his crotch and from between his buns.

As soon as he slid out of bed, Paul fell down to his hands and knees, his head spinning. He struggled for a while, trying to focus. Finally, he got up, staggered a bit, propped himself up against the wall and slowly opened the door.

As he stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, he could feel the intimate grasp of the clothing he wore as it rubbed against his new feminine body. The waist cincher compressed his waist, the panties (how had they got pulled up? he wondered) hugged his crotch and buns, the stockings clung to his legs, and the long nightgown slid smoothly back and forth. And, of course, there were always the gloves, which tightly encased both arms and each finger. Each step made him realize all over again how very female this new body was.

At the bottom of the stairs he saw the front door, and went straight for it. It was locked with a dead bolt that could only be opened with a key from the inside. "Damn," he muttered. He started searching for a key, over the doorjamb, amongst the knickknacks. No luck. He went to try the window.

"Finally up, I see?" Rosemary appeared behind him.

"I'm leaving. Let me go." Paul pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry, but you're my daughter now." She stepped forward and reached out with her finger and tapped his elbow, magically shackling it. She effortlessly dragged Paul away from the window.

"Stop! You can't do this to me!!" Paul cried as he was helplessly towed to the kitchen.

"Sure looks like I'm doing it. Now sit here." She put his elbow down, welding the elbow to the tabletop. Unable to escape, Paul sat down heavily.

"Have some breakfast." She clunked down a bowl and filled it with cereal and milk. Paul reluctantly began to eat.

Rosemary sat down and watched. "Did you like the bed?" Paul's face flushed beet red as he remembered the intimate experience. She chuckled at his reaction. "I thought you'd like it. And just think, you'll get to sleep in the very same bed again tonight! And tomorrow night! And every night from now on, for as long as it takes!"

"No, please, it's not fair..." Paul pleaded. But his body betrayed him and he felt his pussy getting moist and slippery as images of being sexually tortured by the bed flashed through his mind. Without thinking, he pressed his legs tightly together.

"It's either you or Janice, and now that I have her body back, I want the rest of her too. The way I see it, it wasn't fair the way she was taken away from me."

"But that's your problem; I have nothing to do with that!"

"You do now. Aren't you done yet?"

Paul sighed and finished his breakfast.

"Well," Rosemary continued, brightly, "I think its time you had a bath."

As the bathroom door closed behind him, Paul felt his clothing loosen, just slightly. It was a sagging feeling, as if the elastic had given out.

Paul looked at the window. Too small! He tried the door. Locked.

"And it's going to stay locked until you're clean and dressed!" he heard Rosemary yell. "Take as long as you like!"

Paul felt grateful for the sanctuary of the bathroom. Even though the door was locked and he was trapped inside, it felt as if he could hide for a while, collect his thoughts, and perhaps plan an escape.

But first, he had to get out of these beautiful, feminine, but terrible clothes. As Paul peeled each item of clothing from his body, he marveled at his new body. The waist was now amazingly thin (had she really been this slender?), the legs were long and smooth, and his new bosoms were large and heavy. The only way he could stand comfortably was up straight and with his shoulders back. This caused the breasts to jut prominently from his chest.

"I should be proud," he thought, "they are perfect." Paul reached up to cup and stroke them a second, but then stopped and cursed when he realized it was starting to get him excited. His whole body felt like it was on a hair trigger, and he felt he might just be a few orgasms away from losing his grip completely.

When Paul turned to the mirror, he saw Janice's frightened face staring back at him. The only thing that remained of the old Paul was his hair. Apparently that's where the magic stopped short. But since his hair was already shaggy, he ended up just looking like some female athlete on a really bad hair day.

Paul sat down on the toilet, depressed. "What am I going to do?" he wondered. The situation looked hopeless. He had to escape, but how? He was trapped in this incredibly feminine body, and every time he blacked out from an orgasm, it was getting more and more difficult to come out of it.

He went over all of the possibilities. Was the back door unlocked? Could he jump off the roof? Could he just punch a hole through the wall?

After a minute, he realized he had to urinate, and so he did. The stream came out from a strange place deep inside. He looked down and watched it flow from his new vagina. The relief was palpable, and lifted his mood a bit.

"OK," he sighed, "First things first. Get out of this room. Then get out of the house."

But the only way he could think to get out of the room was giving in to Rosemary's demands to have a shower and get dressed.

"I'll play along for now," he thought, "and hope that something comes up."

Paul held a small bar of soap in one hand and the detachable showerhead in the other. He was now completely clean, except for one vital spot.

The shower had been easy. Yes, his new body had responded somewhat to his touch, for it was more sensitive than the male body he had been used to. But he worked quickly before the stimulation could become too much to handle.

Paul looked down at his vagina, leaning forward to see over his new breasts. He hesitated.

"Let's get on with it." Paul quickly rubbed the soap over the curly pubic hairs, nearly losing strength in his knees as the soap rubbed directly over his clitoris. Next, he reached back to soap up his puckered anus, as he moved the shower spray to his crotch to wash the soap away.

But as he reached back, the soap slipped from his hand. "Damn." Paul reached down to find it, but then the shower nozzle also slipped away and clattered to the floor.

"Shit!" He crouched down, legs apart, and felt the floor for the soap, but just as he did, the soap leapt up and dove right between his parted ass cheeks! Immediately, it began to probe his anus, trying to wriggle past the sphincter muscle.

"Eeeep!" Paul squealed and shot up. Just then, the detachable shower head jumped up and aimed a hard, oscillating flow directly at his clitoris.

"Oooohhhh..." overcome with sexual stimulation, Paul's legs gave out completely and he sank to his hands and knees, water splashing directly into his pussy, over his pussy lips, filling his vagina. The slippery soap was now slowly burrowing into his anus, gradually squirming its way into his ass. "Must ... get out..." he gasped, as an orgasm rocked through his body, causing him to shiver and his nipples to jut out hard in the cool air.

The shower nozzle pushed in closer, beating his clit rapidly back and forth. Paul weakly pushed at the nozzle with his hands, but it easily circumvented his defenses. His hips rocked back and forth wildly, as each bathroom object attacked their respective hole, causing Paul to grunt and moan under the twin assaults.

Just then the wash cloth slipped from the door handle and attached itself to his left breast, kneading the tit flesh and rubbing the hard nipple with wet terry cloth.

A second orgasm coursed through him. Paul felt his mind begin to fade out, as he leaned against the side of the shower stall. A third orgasm was building.

Unable to control himself any longer, Paul placed a hand on his free breast and began to pinch and tweak his own nipple. His body was screaming for another orgasm. A second hand went down to his crotch, where a finger pressed hard against the slippery pleasure bud and began to urgently stroke back and forth.