Chapter 4: Rosemary's Plan

"Oh Janice!" Rosemary rushed to the bed, a hand over her mouth.

Paul rolled over to face Rosemary. He had spent the last few remaining hours of the night in a deep, weary sleep.

Before falling asleep however, he did take more time to explore his body. The exploration had ended in a warm orgasm that coursed through his body and vibrated with a delightful hum. Somehow he felt a bit more feminine, and the body felt a bit less foreign after the experience. After that, he slept soundly.

"Oh Janice!" Rosemary repeated, putting a hand on Paul's shoulder, "is it really you?" Her voice had reached a shrill pitch. She was a bit on edge.

"No, I'm Paul. Please ... I'm still Paul! Out!" Trying to wake up, Paul struggled to put together a coherent sentence. "Clothes, off, I need to take these clothes off! Why? Please! Reversed magic ... What am I going to tell my parents?" He looked up at Rosemary.

"Oh!" she burst out, sobbing, "Janice!" Rosemary staggered back to the dressing table chair. She pulled her dress up and used it to wipe away her tears. "It's been so long." She looked at Paul again.

Paul waited until she settled down. "Rosemary," Paul continued, more gently this time, "I am still Paul. Change my body back to the way it was, please."

"No!" her swift fierceness surprised him. Suddenly her cragged features became sharp and penetrating. "I've worked 25 years for this moment, and now it's begun. You are my daughter, Janice, and you're going to stay that way."

"No, I'm not! I'm Paul! It's still me inside!"

"Hah. Look at you. You are the exact image of my darling, and you already hold her spirit within you. Soon, you will fade, and Janice will take over."

"Nooooo..." Paul whimpered, collapsing in shock. Could this be true? What could he do?

"Yes. The more you become accustomed to your new image and the more you become accustomed to your new body and feelings, the more your mind will weaken to her soul. It's only a matter of time before I have my daughter completely back."

Paul looked at her in shock. He barely recognized the words. Rosemary had shed her image as a worn-out old hag as easily as an actor shedding a cloak. In its place was someone confident, someone with a purpose, someone intelligent. Someone to be feared.

Paul mustered up what courage he had left. "I won't do it," he said with nervous confidence. "I won't submit!"

"Oh but you will. One or two days at the most; every time you sleep, every time you feel the clothes on your skin, every time you have an orgasm, every time you do something feminine, these are the times when your male ego will slip just a little, giving my Janice a foothold."

Paul cringed, remembering his climax from the night before, and how he had felt afterwards. It was already happening! "Stop!" he cried, hiding his face in the covers.

Rosemary walked over to the bed and spoke louder, through the covers. "Give it up! You can't resist. Let her in!"

"No! No! NO!"

She smiled. "Well, it's going to happen anyway. I'm going down for breakfast. When the bed is done with you, why don't you join me? The dishes are clean." Janice slammed the door behind her.

Paul pulled his head from under the covers and flopped back in bed, frustrated. "Fuck you!" he shouted, but his voice betrayed his panic. "I've got to get out of here!"

But just as he turned to get out of bed, Paul felt something move. "What?" He froze and looked down. The bed was covered with a light, white knit blanket and sheets. Something had definitely moved. He sat up gradually, and began to slowly push himself out of bed.

Something soft clamped around his ankles. "Shit," Paul reached down to push away his attacker. But there was nothing there! "What's going on?" An invisible aggressor pulled his leg hard towards the bottom of the bed and he fell backwards, flat on his back.

Just then, the covers themselves tightened around his ankles and legs, as if they were attracted by static cling. "What the fuck?" He sat up a second time and reached down to pull them away, but they tightened further, outlining his stocking legs underneath. The covers tightened around them, squeezing his calves and thighs, and then gradually forced his legs apart.