The final chapter! I hope you've enjoyed this story, folks!

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Slayerangel

Andre, Miguel, and Nicholas are three friends with a choice: either go to prison for their numerous street crimes, or undertake a form of community service at St. Elizabeth’s School for Girls. The young men take the offer, thinking it will just be a brief embarrassment. But soon they discover that they are being transformed into beautiful women with personalities more befitting a productive society!

First Part

Previous Part

Part 9: Flash Forward Fates

The class that graduated St. Elizabeth’s School for Girls later that year was the most successful lot yet. So many bad boys (and a few bad girls) had been remade into productive members of society, all of them women devoted to the new lives that had been engineered for them, whether they liked it or not. In that final month, Amira, Marcela, and Nikki helped lead the charge in changing other boys who had come to the school. This was part of the ‘Great Circle’ devised by Headmistress Lillian: those who finished their changes would go on to tempt the next ‘generation’ towards their changes, just as Bree, Katie, and Aura had for them. Of course, this was not a perfect process - Aura had nearly betrayed the secret of the institute to Andre, and sometimes those who were not fully women yet were trusted to help spur on others’ changes in exchange for a ‘lighter’ sentence. For Bree, that had been so she could not end up as a prostitute, as it turned out, but instead a successful model. A small compensation for the former brat, but much better than the alternative. 

And so the three of them helped usher in the next generation of future women, all while adjusting to their new lives. With the curtain having finally fallen and the truth exposed, the former men were hurried along the pipeline towards their eventual fates, which were now earnestly dangled before them.

Andre, now Amira, was to be exactly as her parents had paid top dollar for: a singing superstar in the hip-hop and rap genres. Aura was to be her singing partner, collaborator, and songwriter. Initially trapped inside her body, the real Amira was slowly allowed to surface from her mental prison, but the brainwashing ensured that her compulsions to ‘follow her role’ were so strong that it was basically impossible not to act like her new, rather hypersexual self. The only things she could be grateful for were her damn good looks, her new singing talent, and the fact that she still had a really strong attraction to women. She just had it towards men as well, naturally.

Miguel, now Marcela, was now stuck as a big-breasted Latina beauty, her perfect skin containing no blemishes. Despite herself, she couldn’t stop speaking in ‘Spanglish,’ those words creeping into her standard English unintentionally, simply because some algorithm somewhere had determined this to be very attractive to men. For the remainder of her time at St. Elizabeth’s, along with Katie, she was fully trained to become a future wife and mother. Her compulsions were not quite so strong as Amira’s thanks to her own genuine enthusiasm for her new life. She still felt an instinctive need to marry and breed, but because of her true desire for such a life, an extra VR session was organised as a ‘reward’ for her compliance; she now had much more control over her life, and did not have a sunken mental place to fall into at all.

Lastly, there was Nikki. Now an enthusiastic bimbo and cheerleader, she was groomed with the aid of Bree to become a cheerleading sensation out in the real world, and an eventual model, one who would show off her sexy, busty body and gorgeous red hair. It was utterly humiliating, not least because she was utterly trapped behind the eyes of her new self. She had no control whatsoever, and was continually afflicted with guilt over what she had done as a man. All she could do was watch and feel and experience her new self, including her massive arousal, and hope that she would not sleep with too many men out in the real world. Of course, she was doomed to be sadly disappointed. Her body - and her own mind, despite her shame - hungered for dick.

On the day of their release, the three women graduated together. They were called onto stage before the school’s female body and congratulated on their changes, the entire auditorium clapping for them and others. The three women beamed, but understanding passed between them nonetheless.

“I can’t, like, believe we’re going to be super sexy women from now on!” Amira said, the closest she could get to showing her regret.

“Si. I know, right?” Marcela replied. “I know that you girls are still adjusting, but trust me, it’s going to be asambosa.”

Nikki could only beam, despite the humiliation within. “Like, I totes agree! I can’t wait to get out there in the world and, like, show off my super hot and sexy body!”

“And become a superstar!” Amira said.

“And a wife and mother,” Marcela said, sighing.

“And a totes hot mega slut model!” Nikki finished.

Yet despite the compulsions, the brainwashing, and the nature of some of their sunken mental states, all three couldn’t help but feel enthusiastic to take on their new roles beyond the walls of St. Elizabeth’s. Even Nikki couldn’t deny her growing arousal and its needs, nor Amira the fervent desire to be famous and rich.

Perhaps they really could end up as happy as Marcela was with her fate?

They certainly had the rest of their lives to grapple with that prospect.

***

Three years had passed, and the former men had followed their roles to a T. It was hard to keep up these days, but they still managed it. This time it was in the aftermath of one of Amira’s great concerts. She was taking the world by storm. The star, dressed in her neon pink and electric blue outfit, had the whole crowd in the palm of her hand. She even had a massive male following, in no small part due to the huge amount of cleavage she had on display with her costume’s front zipper lowered down almost to her navel, not to mention her big booty to help balance at her huge tits. She moved and gyrated in sensual ways, and yet her raps and lyrics were acerbic and satirical, clever and memorable, poking fun at other artists and often aiming at the exact kind of empty-minded and nihilistic tech bro she used to be. Her latest track, the central part of her performance, was labelled Tech Ho, and already had Silicon Valley bitcoin bros putting up all kinds of messages and threats online about how she was slandering them. Naturally, this only made her more popular.

“Fuck Silicon Valley!” she cried at the end of her performance. “And you can get fucked too, my lovely concertgoers, only in the nice way, if you know what I’m saying!”

“Get fucked, Amira!” they cried in response, a regular end to her shows that had gone viral. She placed her hand on her heart and gave a light bow, letting her ripe breasts nearly escape from their confines. 

“I damn well hope I get fucked!” she cheered into her microphone. “‘Cause this gal’s feelin’ a bit wet after putting truth to those crypto suckers! Night, y’all! Thanks for being so amazing! And give it up to my backup and partner Aura! Let me thank her right now!”

Aura was taking a small bow, but Amira grabbed her and planted her lips upon the other woman’s mouth, and the two shared a passionate kiss, their sexy bodies pressed against one another. Amira even lowered a hand to squeeze her partner’s ass, which elicited a cheer.

“Don’t worry, kids!” she cried. “I’m not exclusive! We love men like we love women, which is a damn lot!”

She laughed, and the two exited the stage to massive cheers. Amira was definitely feeling aroused, and she was already thinking about how much she wanted to fuck Aura, likely with one of their male backup dancers as well. God, what was wrong with her that she loved threesomes so much these days? They were damn intoxicating, but that was what being a woman with built-in brainwashing did to you after three whole years.

“You’re really taking to this,” Aura noted, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Are you sunken right now or am I speaking to the real Amira?”

“The real gal, right here,” she replied with a sigh.

“Could have fooled me!”

“What can I say?” Amira said, gesturing to her incredibly curvaceous body. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Besides, I’m sick of bein’ a passenger when the crowd is worshipping me.”

“Well, I know what you mean there. Of course, I didn’t get a mental constraint like yours in exchange for leading you along. I still can’t believe you forgave me.” Amira squeezed her ass as they reached their backstage room. “I haven’t, girl. But maybe I will if you lick my pussy real soon. This goddamn female body just don’t quit with the arousal.”

“We could do it right now, you know? Darren is free. I know you love me watching him take you from behind.”

Amira licked her lips, but shook her head. “Naw. Can’t. Got some friends coming round and-”

The door opened, and sure enough, there they were. Nikki was dressed so scandalously it was a miracle she hadn’t been arrested: her crop top was so short that her nipples were practically about to slide over the hem, and a massive amount of underboob was showing. She also had a miniskirt that did little to hide her underwear either. Both articles were hot pink, naturally, as were her high heels.

“Like, oh my God!” she squealed. “Amira, you were sooooooo hawt and amazing!”

She ran forward to embrace her friend, revealing Marcela behind her, a little more patient. The woman looked quite different from the last time Amira had seen her, but then again, being pregnant with twins will do that to you. Her belly was huge, easily on the cusp of labour to judge it, and her boobs had clearly gone up yet another cup size too. Her ass had likewise exploded, a devastatingly hot culo that made her get quite self-conscious, yet always pleased when her husband Martin squeezed it. 

“Hola, Amira,” she said, clutching her huge womb. “You were asambrosa! Gracias for the VIP tickets!”

“My girls!” Amira squealed, hugging Nikki first, then moving to embrace Marcela. “Oh-Em-Gee, Marcela, you are huge! And glowing, too! How are you that big with one baby?” At this, Marcela gave a sheepish smile. “I’m not, actually. I’m having twins. Martin was quite virile, it seems.”

“Damn! Lucky you! Still loving the married life?”

Marcela nodded eagerly, rubbing her stomach. Her babies were asleep in her womb, giving her a rest from their endless kicks, but she hoped they would wake soon so that her friends would feel what it was like. 

“I can’t believe how much I love it, Amira.”

“Even with all those compulsions forcing you to be the perfect housewife?”

“Even then, hermana,” she answered. It was an honest response, too. In truth, Marcela barely even noticed the brainwashing’s effect upon her these days. True, she had felt a desire to date, date, date as soon as she was let go from the school of feminisation, all to find that perfect Mr Right, but upon meeting Martin Dale, she knew she’d found the one. He was tall and handsome, with a sexy close-cropped goatee and the swept-back hair of a businessman. Not only was he charming and clearly into her (but then who wouldn’t be, with such a busty latina body as hers?), but he was successful and passionate, a man who was rising up the corporate ranks and desired to start a family soon by his own admission. Not only did her loins tingle in his presence, but her heart was warmed as well. They were married only a year after meeting, and Marcela had Amira and Nikki as her co-Maids of Honor, seeing her off to married life. The wedding night had been one of utmost passion, and while her the vestigial remnants of her male self were embarrassed to be penetrated and then later impregnated, her female pride easily compensated for that. Yes, the psychological hypnosis had left her with a compulsion to cook and clean for her man, to grow with his children and suck him off when he wanted, but the truth was that she was so ecstatic to do so she never really noticed the brainwashing at all. In fact, she often gave extra blowjobs, additional little touches to her cooking, and chose just the right dress to wear to show off her body. The little choices gave her all the freedom she needed.

“Like, I super love my life as well!” Nikki proclaimed, shifting attention from Marcela to her. “I get, like, soooooo much cock these days. Ohmigod, stripping is just the best, too! I had, like, a lot of fun as a model but OnlyFans is soooo much better and also I get way, way more dicks in me this way, I just can’t stop myself!”

The last sentence was very true, and Amira and Marcela knew it. They both knew that their friend was trapped beneath the surface of her Nikki experience, so they both gave her a loving hug.

“You know I’m always gonna support you, girl,” Amira said.

“And I’m always happy to help in any way I can, Nikki,” Marcela added. “Whatever we can do for you! I know you’re in there, so I just hope you’re happy as Nikki.”

“Me too,” Amira replied. “You are one good looking gal, that’s for sure. And I think we all know that sex as a woman is one great thing, huh? So I hope both of y’all in that body are satisfied.”

Nikki beamed. “Like, I totes am! I don’t even know what you mean by ‘both’, but I just love being totes a massive slut, seriously!”

The two others exchanged a glance, then gave Nikki one last hug. They didn’t need to, not that they knew it. In truth, the real Nikki was trapped beneath the surface of the mega-slut she’d become had come to accept her lot in life. Headmistress Lillian’s final brainwashing touch had ensured that she was forced to grapple with the horror of all that she had inflicted as a man, and this had brute forced the first sliver of empathy into her. From there, it had rushed in like a flood, and after just a year stuck as Nikki Barker, super hot cheerleader, model, and soon-to-be bimbo stripper, she had come to see her fate as something she deserved as penance for all her many sins.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was having sex at least four-to-five times a day. The change had left her body extraordinarily reactive to sex, even more than Amira’s form, which craved it constantly. Nikki was at least eighty percent into men, and she practically salivated at the sight of a hot man with a big dick. She had taken it up every available orifice in the last three years, whining and crying out in humiliated pleasure as her body was mounted and fucked. She’d had so many orgasms that she couldn’t even remember what sex was like as a man, and this too was enough to get her to accept her passive role in her own existence. Now, she got turned on just from stripping and having customers grope her. And if that meant going cowgirl on a guy and riding his cock? Well, she could live with it. It wasn’t like she had any choice, so why not go along with the hot ride?

She tried to communicate this through her smile, which was much less forced these days, but she doubted her friends would ever truly know that she had accepted her life. The important thing, as far as she was concerned, was that they were all together.

“You remember Aura, my writing partner?” Amira said.

“Of course!” Marcela said, waddling over to shake the woman’s hand.

“More than just, like, a partner I bet!” Nikki exclaimed.

The two dark skinned women grinned. “You got that damn right,” Amira said. “I guess I could have gotten a lot worse out of this, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Marcela said, stroking her stomach. “Same for me. I can’t wait to meet my little girls. Ohhhhh, or my wonderful husband to get me pregnant again. I want to have so many babies with him. So many. He can get me pregnant up against the dining table again . . .”

The very idea of it was making her feel so damn maternal. She loved crooning in Spanish while her husband fucked her against the furniture, and that image appeared in her mind. She had to take a deep breath and avoid getting too excited; she still had another hour before her husband picked her up, and then the magic could start.

“God, that’s, like, making me so fucking wet just to hear,” Nikki said, cupping her big boobs. “Fuck, I really need to get some right now.”

“Me too,” Amira said. “Damn Marcela, you turned into one naughty girl!”

“We’re all still naughty in some ways,” Marcela said with a grin.

“Damn straight we are! We were bad boys before, but you can’t get rid of all that bad. Ain’t that right, Nikki?”

But Nikki was already looking at Amira with lust, her pussy growing wet.

“Um, like, totes. Hey, um, this is, like, super weird because we’re friends and all, but I could really, really use, like, a hot orgy right now.”

Amira cackled. “Right ahead of ya, babe! Let’s get some men in here so we can party. Aura?”

“On it,” the other woman said, moving to the hallway.

Marcela chuckled. “You two are so bad!”

“Just like I said. You in, Marcela?”

But the beautiful pregnant latina put up a hand. “Lo siento. But you two have fun. It was good to see you both.”

They hugged one last time, though Amira and Nikki were already starting to feel one another up. Marcela could only chuckle and hope that her friends were happy. When she exited out into the backstage hall, Aura was already returning with some rather virile-looking men. It made Marcela’s hormones light up. With a sigh, she got out her phone, resisting the urge to fondle her sensitive breasts. Martin answered on just the second buzz.

“Hello, my gorgeous love? Do you need me to pick you up early?”

“Mhmm, I do,” she crooned. “And then I want you to fuck me my brains out, mi amor. Because I need you so badly.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Por favor, mi amor,” she replied. 

On the other side of the door to Amira and Aura’s room, a series of long moans and whimpering sighs formed a passionate chorus. Marcela licked her lips, resting her back against the nearest wall and cupping her belly.

Dios mio, she couldn’t wait for her man to arrive. He made her so glad to be a woman now. She’d have to remember to send the Headmistress another thank you letter.

If she could remember once Martin had fucked her senseless, of course.

The End