A Revenge - Feminizing A Dirty Football Player - Part 2

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``Now hold still a minute.  This is my latest formulation and I think it should help with those breasts.''

She gave him the injection.  This one should do it, she thought.

``Come on Josh!  Just one more buddy!''  Tom Carter, the team's weight trainer, coaxed him to try one more bench press.

Josh strained with all his might but the bar just barely lifted from its cradle before he gave up and let it fall back into place.  His face was red and sweat was streaming down his body.

The trainer looked concerned.  He gave Josh a hand and pulled him to a sitting position on the bench.  He pushed the sleeve of Josh's tee up to his armpit and studied Josh's biceps a moment, while firmly massaging it.  Tom had worked for the Wranglers for several years and was familiar with Josh's capabilities that were his job.  He didn't say anything for several moments, not wanting to alarm Josh, but he could swear that the muscle was significantly smaller than just a few weeks ago.

Finally, he broached the subject.  ``Josh, are you feeling okay, partner?  I mean, this bar has 30 pounds less on it than you were tossing around easily last week.  And you're really straining against it.  But what worries me the most is your reps are WAY down, you're tiring too easily bud.  Maybe you need a rest?  We can sit you out tomorrow if you don't feel up to it.''

Josh shrugged.  He hated to admit it but Tom was right.  He was struggling now to lift what had been easy for him just a few days ago. But he didn't want the trainer to think something was seriously wrong. He might say something to the Coach that would get Josh pulled from the roster.  After all, Josh rationalized, he could still press almost as much as half the quarterbacks in the league and he had years more experience.  But he needed to think of a way to get Tom off his back.

``Yeah, a little tired.  Maybe caught a bug.  But I can play tomorrow.'' He said in the taciturn manner he'd adopted with team members since becoming a soprano.

Tom looked at him.  He appraised Josh, as a professional trainer who knows every muscle on his charge's body, sizing him up.  Josh had changed quite a lot during the season, and not just his voice.  He appeared to be softer, maybe a bit flabby even.  His attitude was subtly different too, not so cocky and arrogant, less sure of himself and his capabilities than in years past.  But in his eyes, there was a grim determination to fight and win against all odds.  Tom had seen other men with that kind of look who had overcome their aging bodies for a time.  He figured there was a good chance that whatever was wrong with Josh could be offset by his sheer willpower.  He decided to credit Josh with sense enough to know how his own body felt and decide for himself if he was ready to play in tomorrow's game.  But he'd be watching him carefully from now on.

``Okay partner.  You should know if you're ready to play.  But you watch yourself tomorrow, hear?  And next week we're starting you on some stamina building routines.''

Josh had assured everyone that he was ready to play this game.  But it was barely five minutes into the first quarter and he was having serious doubts.  The first series of downs had gone badly for Josh.  He missed all four passes he attempted and only avoided an interception by pure luck.  He just didn't have the power in his arm to throw the ball like he needed to.  His mind and reflexes measured the distance, timed the speed of the receiver, and figured how hard he needed to throw, but he was so weak the ball always fell short.  But at least their first possession hadn't ended in a turnover.  Thanks to a few brilliant running plays they managed to get into field goal range and scored despite Josh's poor passing.

Now they had the ball again.  Third and long.  Josh had called two runs in a row but their opponents had been expecting that and shut them down fast.  Josh had no choice, Coach Turner sent in a call for a pass play.

Josh took the snap and dropped back into the pocket.  He saw a receiver open and his first impulse was that it was an easy throw.  But he remembered how weak his arm was now and he began to doubt that he could

hit the man.  He committed a quarterback's cardinal sin, he hesitated.

The defenders were blitzing.  They knew Josh had to pass.  Josh saw a man running toward him.  He sidestepped and thrust his arm out, intending to fend off the tackler.  He brought his other arm back to throw the ball, knowing from experience that he could hold off the defender with his straight-arm for the second or two he needed to get the pass off.  But he hadn't reckoned on how truly weakened he now was and the opposing player simply bowled him over like a small child.

Josh felt the wind slammed from his lungs.  He hit the ground hard. Suddenly there were bodies flying through the air and everything went black.

He heard a voice asking over and over if he was okay and telling him to wiggle his fingers and move his feet.  Through the haze of pain, he obeyed.  Then he felt lifted onto a stretcher.  He was only dimly aware of the gentle pats on his arms and the faces of his teammates telling him it was going to be okay.  Amy was walking beside his stretcher yelling orders above the roar of the crowd.  She seemed to be arguing with Coach Turner.

``No!  Not Dallas Memorial.  We'll take him to my research clinic. It's closer and I can do more for him there than at the hospital.''

``I only want the very best for him, Doc.  The team still needs him. Coleson's good but he's young.  Doesn't have the experience.  I want Josh ready for the Superbowl.''  Turner growled back.

``Coach if you let me take care of him I can promise you Josh will be performing at the Superbowl.  Now let me do my job!''

Turner backed off and Amy jabbed a needle into Josh's arm and the world faded away.

``Wake up sleepyhead!''

Josh opened his eyes to bright light.  He was lying on a twin bed in a small windowless room.  The only other furniture was a dresser and a stool.  Amy sat on the stool by his bedside and smiled down at him.

``How do you feel, Honey?''  she asked, very perkily.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, remembering what had happened to him.

``Not bad.  Considering the hit I took.  In fact`an I feel pretty good. I don't hurt anywhere.''

``Good!  Then we can begin at once.''  Amy chirped.

Josh felt uneasy at Amy's sweetness act.  He didn't trust her at all. But he did feel amazingly good.  Was that more of her drugs?  He'd taken many hard hits in his career and never before did he feel this good the next day.

``Begin what?  Where am I? What time is it?  I must be late for practice.''

``No practice for you today, Honey.  The Coach placed you on a medical waiver under my supervision.  You're officially on the injured list until I discharge you.''

``But I feel fine.  I'm getting out of here.''  Josh started to sit up, but Amy pushed him back down to the bed.

``Honey, you've done nothing but complain all season long about the side effects from my treatment program.  Now when I'm finally ready to make the adjustments to the formula and get your body in the shape it should be when you want to leave.  Well, you're staying here till I've corrected everything and that's that.  Doctor's orders.''

Josh looked at her suspiciously.  He wanted desperately to reverse all the weird changes in his body.  But he didn't know if he should trust her.

``What are you planning to do to me?''

``Mostly you need physical therapy to correct your upper body strength. Your balance, coordination, and other motor skills seem affected also so we'll have to work on those.  Then there are all the endocrine system imbalances that gave you the high voice and incongruous secondary sexual characteristics.  We need to start you on a program of corrective chemical therapy to set everything right.''

``You're going to fix everything that's fucked up with my body?''  he asked, not quite understanding her explanation and wanting confirmation in simpler terms.

``Honey, I swear to you, everything about you that's fucked up will be corrected.''  She smiled almost as if enjoying a secret joke.  ``But only if you agree to cooperate fully with my treatment program.  If you argue or refuse to follow all of the therapy regimens then you're out. No one else in the world knows how to reverse the changes in your body. You're probably thinking you could take me to court.  Remember the medical forms you signed for the Wranglers everyone on the team had to sign they give blanket permission for medical treatment as prescribed by the team physician.  I'd claim unforeseen side effects and there's nobody who could dispute me.  But even if you won in court, all you'd get is money you'd still have to learn to live as a 39-year-old weakling with a three-inch cock, a soprano voice, and big firm titties.  So if you're not prepared to accept yourself like you are then you better be very cooperative, Honey.''

Josh considered how weak and weirdly deformed he was now, all of it thanks to her treatments.  But he also remembered how her medical magic restored the broken down old veterans on the team back to athletes at their peak.  She was capable of doing what she promised he had no doubt about that.  But would she?  Then he considered his alternative. He wasn't able to play professional football in his present condition that was certain.  He'd be forced to quit the team and live out his life as a freak.  He finally decided that he really had no other choice but to cooperate with her.

``How long will all this take?  I want to be in shape for the Superbowl.''

``Honey, I'll tell you like I told Coach Turner.  Let me take care of you and you'll be in BEAUTIFUL shape for the Superbowl.''

Josh was finishing up in the bathroom.  Amy had told him he should take a few minutes to freshen up and breakfast would be ready when he was done.  He splashed water in his face and toweled dry.  The lack of a mirror over the sink seemed strange but he could live without it as long as he didn't need to shave.  He felt his chin smooth wouldn't need shaving for a while at least.  A glance at the shelf over the sink revealed there wasn't anything to shave with anyway so he decided not to worry about it for now.

He walked back into the small bedroom.  There was no sign of Amy. Instead, he saw a young woman dressed as a nurse in white tunic and pants.  She was delivering a tray with his breakfast.  Instinctively he put a hand to his crotch to cover his nakedness.

``Good morning, Honey.''  She said in a professionally pleasant, albeit impersonal, tone.  She seemed not to notice his nudity.  She set the tray up in front of the stool and said, ``I'll be back in a few minutes to show you around and get you oriented.  Enjoy your breakfast, Honey.''  She turned to leave the room.

``Hang on a minute!''  he said, stopping her before she could go.  ``If you're going to show me around then I'm going to need something to wear.  My name's Josh, by the way.''

``Oh, you'll find a robe in the dresser, Honey.''

``I said my name's Josh.''  He was getting a bit irritated.  ``And you are?''

``You can call me Ms.  Connors, Honey.  I'm Dr.  Hanson's assistant.''

Josh felt snubbed by her refusal to give her first name.  ``I told you twice, Ms.  Connors, my name's Josh, not Honey.  I ought to know my own name.''

The nurse had an amused smile on her face.  ``Yes, I expect you ought to, Honey.  Now stop being silly and eat your breakfast and I'll be back soon.''  She was out the door before Josh could say another word.

Josh stared open-mouthed at the closed door.  The nerve of the little bitch!  He almost went after her, then thought better of it.  He decided he should try to get along with Ms.  Connors.  Amy had made him promise to cooperate before agreeing to fix his problems.  She could be a vindictive bitch and he didn't think it wise to start raising hell with her staff until he was cured.  He'd stayed in many hospitals, recuperating from injuries over his long career.  And one thing he'd learned was that you just didn't want to piss off the nursing staff while you were a patient under their care.  Of course, in his experience, the nurses were more likely to fawn all over him than be hostile, but he had run across the occasional nurse who hated athletes and just barely tolerated him.

He looked at the breakfast tray.  Not very much there.  A tiny bowl of lukewarm oatmeal, half a grapefruit, and tea.  He was accustomed to much more substantial training table breakfasts and he preferred coffee to tea.  But he was famished so he wolfed down the meager repast in short order.  When every last morsel was gone he still felt hungry.

Done with breakfast, what there was of it, he decided to get dressed. The dresser had three drawers but the bottom two were empty.  In the top drawer were a dozen or so pairs of women's satin bikini briefs in bright assorted colors and a satin robe in a soft pink rose pattern. What the hell was going on?  He rummaged through the stacks of panties, in hopes of finding something else and his fingers encountered a smooth plastic cylinder.  He took this out of the drawer and saw it was a 9-inch long vibrator.

Just then Ms.  Connors entered the room without knocking and saw him standing there staring at a handful of panties in one hand and the vibrator in the other.  A smile flickered across her face, was quickly repressed, and replaced by a blandly superior expression.

Josh waved the objects at her and asked in an astonished tone, ``What in the world are these???''

``Well, Sugar, in your right hand is a vibrator and in your left is your underwear.''  The nurse replied matter-of-factly.

``I KNOW what they are!  Why are they here in my dresser?''

``If you mean the clothing, Honey.  You'll find that your skin is very sensitive due to the treatments and the satin won't irritate you like other fabrics.  As for the vibrator, I suppose Dr.  Hanson thought it might help you relax.''

``Well if you think I'm wearing this stuff you're nuts.''  Josh chose to ignore her comment on the vibrator.

The nurse shrugged.  ``Suit yourself, Honey.  Although you might find walking about in the nude to be a chilling experience.  Or shall I inform Dr.  Hanson you've changed your mind about accepting treatment?''

Josh felt ridiculous walking around in the pink satin robe.  It only came down to mid-thigh and he felt overly exposed.  He had on a pair of polka dot panties underneath the robe and nothing else.  He had to admit that the silky fabric felt good against his soft skin but he wished they had something more appropriate for a man.

Ms.  Connors showed him around the clinic.  Although there wasn't all that much to see.  The place reminded him of a small set of offices rather than a hospital.  The walls were covered in cream-colored wallpaper with a tastefully elegant design.  There were framed prints hanging every few feet, mostly of French impressionists.  The floors were hardwood polished to a gleaming shine and their smooth coolness served to emphasize in his mind that he hadn't been given any shoes.

He was shown a fairly large room outfitted as a gym/exercise studio. There were individual exercise mats rolled up and pushed to one side, along with various other paraphernalia.  The room had a high ceiling and there was a practice bar for ballet mounted on one wall.  Two doors led from the studio beside the one they'd entered by.  One door led to a changing area/bathroom, and the other opened into a small weight room with several assorted nautilus machines.  The setup at the Wranglers' stadium was much more elaborate but Josh figured this would be sufficient to help him rebuild his muscles, at least for the short time he expected to be here.

Ms.  Connors then pointed out where Amy's private office and examination room was.  Next to it was the door to her laboratory.  He asked about a third door and she said it led to Amy's living quarters. And that was all there was, just those few rooms and nothing more. Josh figured from the size of the layout he'd seen that Hanson had converted one of those small ``professional'' buildings into her combination house and clinic.  He heard no traffic noises so he assumed they were in a fairly quiet residential area, but he couldn't be sure as he hadn't noticed any windows anywhere.

The place seemed to be mostly deserted.  They had only crossed paths with one other person, also a young woman dressed as a nurse.  Ms. Connors paused for introductions.

``Honey, this is Ms.  Smith.  She's also Doctor Hanson's assistant. Most often it will be one or the other of us who'll see to your needs.''

``Nice to meet you, Ms.  Smith.''  Josh hated it but he was learning that he was expected to be polite and cooperative.  These were some tough pitches and he had to play by their rules.

``Well!  I can see we're not going to have any trouble out of you. We're going to get along just fine, aren't we honey?''  Ms.  Smith spoke to him as though talking to a child.

``I hope so, Ms.  Smith.''  He said softly with eyes downcast.

Ms.  Connors patted his cheek gently in approval.  The two women smiled at each other.  They seemed to sense his capitulation and reveled in rubbing his nose in their conquest.

After the short tour, Ms.  Connors left him alone in his room.  She said he should shower and then rest.  Tomorrow he would begin his regular treatment schedule.  She gave him a pill to take and watched as he swallowed it.

Josh stepped into the shower.  Mounted on the wall were three dispensers labeled ``body wash'', ``shampoo'', ``conditioner''.  No washcloth anywhere, but hanging on a hook was a pink plastic scrubbing puff.  He took the puff and squeezed some body wash onto it.  It had a floral scent.  He lathered himself up and noted how the scrubber cleaned him thoroughly but didn't irritate his soft, sensitive skin. When he rinsed off his skin still had a slick oily sheen to it.  He was embarrassed to admit, even to himself, how good it felt touching himself, feeling the sensuous softness the soap gave his skin.

He shampooed his hair and used conditioner afterward.  Normally he didn't bother but Ms.  Connors had specifically said to use both.  When he finished showering and dried off, he had to admit that his hair seemed easier to comb, had less tendency to tangle.  The shampoo made his hair smell like strawberries.

He flopped down on the bed naked.  His body felt fresh and clean after the shower.  He idly brushed his fingertips over his belly, enjoying the silky softness of his skin.  His cock was tingling with arousal. He rubbed it gently with his fingers, savoring the slow build-up to climax.  One thing he'd learned to appreciate about his changed penis, he could orgasm over and over without actually ejaculating and without resting in between.

Suddenly he got an idea and went to the dresser to get the vibrator. He'd never used one before, even as a ``special treat'' for one of his girlfriends   his macho ego was sure his cock was better than some plastic appliance.  He switched it on and gingerly touched his cock with the buzzing cylinder.  Oh wow!  He never dreamed something could feel so good!  He pressed it more firmly against his cock and slowly rubbed it up and down the tiny shaft.  Almost with a mind of its own,

his free hand sought his breasts and added to the pleasurable sensations by rubbing and pulling on his nipples.  He slipped into a dreamy haze, bringing himself to several orgasms and eventually falling asleep.

``Honey, this is Ms.  Baker.  She'll be your physical trainer.''  Ms. Connors introduced him to a pretty brunette with a fantastic body.  She was obviously a trained dancer from the development of her leg muscles.

It was Josh's second day at the clinic.  Ms.  Connors had awakened him with his breakfast tray.  She had allowed him a few minutes to freshen up and eat.  Then she conducted him, dressed in the pink robe, to the exercise studio where Ms.  Baker was waiting for him.

Ms.  Baker was tall and in excellent physical condition.  She had a no-nonsense attitude about her and didn't waste time.

``You'll find exercise gear in the changing room, Sugar.  Get out of that robe and let's get started.''

``I'll leave you to it, then.''  Ms.  Connors said.  ``I'll be back at lunch.''

Josh was back in a few moments, still wearing the robe.  Ms.  Baker gave him a questioning look.

``The only thing I saw in there was stuff for a girl,'' he said.

Ms.  Baker icily informed him that his body, as it now was, required support garments to exercise in, especially his breasts.  There was no male attire that would fit the current shape of his body and support him suitably.  So if he didn't want to remain as he was permanently he should get over it and get dressed so they could get to work.

Josh returned wearing a pink spandex leotard, a pink headband, and a shiny pink and green striped sports bra, and a very, very embarrassed look.

Josh's days settled into a routine.

He never saw a clock or any form of a timepiece.  There were no television, radio, or newspapers.  He soon lost track of time completely and had no idea what day or even month it was.  He had no way of knowing how long he'd been there, or even if it were day or night.  Time was decreed by the arrival of a nurse with a meal or to lead him somewhere.  As the days passed, he slowly found himself slipping into the habit of just going wherever he was taken, doing whatever he was told, and not thinking about anything beyond what he was involved with at the moment.

As long as he was cooperative the staff treated him with professionally impersonal pleasantness, except they invariably called him by diminutive pet names, most often ``Honey'' but also ``Sugar'' and ``Sweetie'' and the like while requiring him to address them as ``Ms.''.  But if he showed any reluctance in doing what they asked they became malevolent ice queens.  As was frequently pointed out in the first few days, he had to learn to follow orders or he could live the rest of his life as a freak.  He learned to follow orders.

Each morning he was awakened by breakfast delivered to his room. Breakfast was followed by an aerobic workout in the small gym.  This was the highlight of his day, his mind was fresh and awake and he was physically challenged by the exercises Ms.  Baker required of him.  On rare occasions, at the end of the workout, he was taken to the weigh room for about a ten-minute session on the nautilus machines.  After his workout, he was taken back to his room to shower.

A light lunch, usually just a salad and fruit served in his room, would be waiting for him after his shower.  Invariably there would be medication for him to take with lunch, and the nurse that brought his tray remained until she saw Josh take the medicine.  The rest of the afternoon was spent in his room in a drowsy haze.  He found that he slept an awful lot of the time.  Amy explained to him early on that the changes being induced in his body took a lot of energy and he needed the extra sleep, but his sleeping pattern would return to normal once the treatments were completed.  During periods of wakefulness, still in his foggy state of mind, he would succumb to boredom and use the vibrator on himself.  He seemed to do this more and more as time went by.

Every few days, he was taken to an examining room and given a physical before lunch.  Amy did the exam personally.  She weighed him and took measurements of his body, neck, shoulders, chest, ribs below his breasts, waist, hips, around each thigh and calf and ankle, around each biceps, forearm, and wrist, inseam, arm length, overall height.  She never let him know any of the measurements.  She'd also listen to his heart and lungs, check his blood pressure, collect blood and urine samples and sometimes run him into a scanner like an MRI. Frequently he'd get an injection in his ass after the exam.  Then he'd be taken back to his room for lunch and rest time until dinner.

Dinner was a light meal just like breakfast and lunch.  He was given more medication with dinner.  Not long after dinner, the lights in his room went out.  If he wasn't already asleep, he'd lay in bed and masturbate with the vibrator until he drifted off.

There were no mirrors anywhere.  Josh was never permitted to see himself.  He knew there were changes happening to his body but they were so gradual and he was so often in a sleepy daze that he just didn't seem to worry about them.

``No!  No!  No!  You KICK on the beat, then step, step, step, KICK, step, step, hold, and point.''  Ms.  Baker shouted from across the room, interrupting Josh's rather inept execution of the routine.

Josh was feeling frustrated.  He tried to remember all the movements in order but he just couldn't get it.  He was breathing a bit heavy but not winded.  The aerobic exercises were much more difficult than they looked but the mental concentration required to do everything in order and timed properly was even harder to achieve.

``I just can't seem to remember the timing, Ms.  Baker,''  Josh said apologetically.

He now felt relatively familiar with the daily workouts Ms.  Baker supervised.  Mostly he had to do a lot of stretching and bending.  He had a lot of difficulty with some of the more extreme moves like splits but Ms.  Baker said he'd limber up.  Interspersed were movements that he felt certain were entrechats, pirouettes, and other ballet exercises.  Once he grew accustomed to the basics, she had begun teaching him some fairly complicated movements.  They were very much like dance routines.  These routines mixed together with high kicks, somersaults, cartwheels, skipping, jumping, a sort of high stepping prancing jog, and even some embarrassing moves where he shook his butt or shimmied his shoulders that caused his new-grown breasts to bobble embarrassingly.

``Honey, these routines are designed so you will have FUN while working out.  They're to help you develop your reflexes and your coordination as well as your strength.  Feel the music, it will help you remember the beat and keep your timing.''

Ms.  Baker always played some snappy dance music on a boom box during the sessions.  Mixed in with the songs were recordings of the team's cheerleaders, the Wrangler Girls, doing their cheers.  Ms.  Baker said the cheers were good motivational tools and should give him the incentive to get back on the field.  She played them so often that Josh soon had them all memorized, and he found himself hearing the repetitive chants over and over in his head.

What bothered him the most was that so far her program seemed to neglect muscle groups that he had always thought of as important for football.  The stuff she made him do was certainly physically challenging, he had to admit that.  But, he thought he should be concentrating on building up the strength in his throwing arm and upper body muscles in general.

``Ms.  Baker, do you think these sessions are strenuous enough for weight training?''  Josh asked, a bit timidly.

``Honey, are you questioning my judgment?''  she asked.

``I'm sorry Ms.  Baker.''

``Good, we'll speak no more about it.  Now, from the top''

Josh put his hands on his hips in this latest routine's starting position and prepared to make another try at it.

Josh pushed his dinner away.  There was still some food on his plate from his salad but he wasn't that hungry.  He rubbed his belly, enjoying the smooth feel of his taut skin.  His waistline had been shrinking.  It's the healthy diet and exercise he told himself.  Still, that didn't explain why his ass and breasts seemed to be getting larger.  But he didn't spend much time worrying about it.  He felt pleasantly fuzzy just as he always did in the afternoons and evenings, and his cock was demanding attention.

He got in bed and rubbed the vibrator over his tiny cock.  It felt so nice.  In his dreamlike state, it didn't seem alarming at all that his cock was smaller every day and his balls also seemed to be drawing up tighter against his crotch.  In a way it was nicer now, his balls weren't so much in the way when he played with the vibrator and his cock seemed more and more sensitive.  But his mind didn't spend much time analyzing things, he was too overwhelmed, enjoying the wonderful sensations the vibrator created.

As his cock got smaller, his breasts seemed to grow and his nipples became ever more sensitive.  He now enjoyed exciting his nipples with the vibrator almost as much as his cock.  He almost felt he could climax from stimulating his nipples alone.

He continued masturbating until his body trembled in the throes of orgasm and he faded off to sleep.

``Okay, Honey!  Number Seven!  Get set` a let's go!''  Ms.  Baker called out.

Each special routine he'd been taught had a number and she would yell them out at random during exercise sessions.  He was expected to immediately execute the routine.

Josh got on his mark.  He let his mind go blank and his face automatically assumed the wide happy smile that Ms.  Baker seemed to insist on while he ran through his special routines.  He stood with most of his weight on his right leg, left leg slightly bent at the knee, toes pointed.  His left hand was on his hip, elbow sharply bent and sticking straight out to the side.  His right hand was straight up, index finger pointed to the ceiling.  His belly was sucked in and his chest thrust out.  This was the initial pose for routine number 7. When Ms.  Baker said ``go'' he bounced on the ball of his right foot a couple times then brought his right hand down, pointing straight in front of him, and smoothly shifted into the routine's first steps.

In his mind, he was chanting one of the cheers from the Wrangler Girls. He had discovered that certain cheers seemed to have the perfect rhythm for his numbered exercise routines.  Singing the cheer in his head, he could easily stay on the beat, keep perfect timing, and remember when to kick or jump, or whatever move was needed, exactly in rhythm to the routine.

When Josh reached the finale and fell into a perfect split he was reminded once more how much his cock and balls had changed.  He now had a nearly smooth crotch and splits didn't hurt him anymore.  The wide smile faded as he thought about the changes he'd noticed in his body. He knew he had to ask Amy about that but he never seemed to remember when he had the opportunity.  But Ms.  Baker started talking and he had to concentrate he didn't want to ruin a fairly good practice by getting her mad at him.

``Good Honey, but you need to remember to keep smiling.  You have to look happy to be happy.  Now, Number Three!  Get ready`a-okay, let's go!''

Josh stepped out of the shower and began toweling himself dry.  His hair seemed much longer lately.  He lifted a section in front of his face where he could see it.  It was coming in BLOND. He suppressed an impulse to go running off screaming for Amy.  That would only get him in trouble with Ms.  Connors.  He'd have to wait to ask her about it the next time he had a physical.

``I want you to try these on, Honey.''

Ms.  Baker was holding out a pair of shoes.  Women's shoes.  With about a two-inch heel.

Josh felt like he was going to explode.  His mouth opened and closed a few times but no words came out.

``Now before you get all upset, Dearie, stop and listen.''  Ms. Baker's tone was mild but held the threat of anger.  ``You need to work on your coordination and balance.  Nothing teaches you to balance like dancing in heels.  Do you think your balance is anywhere near as good as mine?''

Josh thought about that.  Ms.  Baker could run through moves with ease that he wouldn't even dream of attempting.  As a football player, he knew how important balance and coordination were, even more so than brute strength.  But wear high heels?

``We're wasting time, Honey.''  Ms.  Baker pressed the issue.

Did he have a choice?  Yes!  He tossed his shoulder-length blond hair out of his face in a tiny gesture of defiance.  But was he willing to be a freak for the rest of his life?

He took the shoes from her and bent over to put them on.

``I knew you'd see it my way, Honey.  We'll take it slow at first.  You might think it's impossible, but eventually, you'll become accustomed to even the highest heels.  You'll be able to comfortably perform any routine as easily and gracefully in heels as barefoot.''

From that day on he exercised in heels during at least a portion of each session.  Gradually the heels got higher, from wedges with only about one or two inches of lift to stiletto heels that were as much as four inches tall.  And when not exercising, he had to wear them at all times except in bed.  The click-clack of his heels on the hardwood floors became a familiar sound to him.

``Okay Honey, it's time to check the progress of your muscle development again,'' Ms.  Baker said as she led the way into the weight room.

Josh had just finished a workout.  His long blond hair was plastered to his neck, shoulders, and the swell of his breasts.  It tickled him at the small of his back and he was grateful for the pink headband which at least kept it out of his eyes.  He had a pleasant warm glow from the exertion, not the bone-weary exhaustion he remembered from football practice.  His body glistened with a light sheen of sweat and he felt totally alive and invigorated.  He felt so good he was certain he was making progress toward regaining his former strength.

Ms.  Baker made all the decisions about the weight settings and the number of reps he had to do.  She was always careful to never let him see the weight settings.  She said he'd either be worried that he wasn't progressing fast enough or get overconfident in his strength. She blocked his view of the weights while he was on a machine and always pulled the pin out afterward.

He wished she would let him spend more time on the weight machines but she said his musculature wasn't fully corrected and he might strain himself.  So she never allowed more than a few brief minutes, just enough to check his capabilities rather than give him a good workout.

``Now I want you to try Five reps at this setting, Honey.  But if it's too much, don't force it.''  Ms.  Baker said after completing adjustments to the bench press.

Josh settled onto the bench press machine and gripped the bar.  He pressed upwards, feeling his arms straining.  One`a Two`a Ms.  Baker must have increased the weight since last time.  Three`a Four` a He wasn't sure he could make it, but this was the last one so he pushed up as hard as he could.  Almost there`a Five!  He thought she must have set it for a couple hundred pounds at least.

Curiosity got the better of him and he jumped up from the machine as soon as the bar hit the stop, craning his neck to see the weights.  He thought he saw the setting as Ms.  Baker pulled the pinout of the weight stack.  But she must have been too fast for him and stuck the pin into a dummy setting before Josh saw the actual setting.  He HAD to be mistaken, he told himself, because he had really strained to complete those five reps and the setting he thought he saw was only 60 pounds.  That was so ridiculous it wasn't worth worrying over he could lift 60 pounds with one finger.

Ms.  Baker didn't comment on the incident but she was extra cautious setting the weights from then on.

Josh was feeling confident.  The happy smile plastered on his face that had become second nature while he strutted his stuff was genuine.  He was feeling so proud of himself.  The session was nearly over and so far he'd run through every routine absolutely perfectly.  Ms.  Baker even smiled at him a few times when he'd completed some particularly difficult move.  Right now he was in the midst of executing the big finish for one of the harder numbers.

Josh kicked his right leg up   HIGH! His foot rose above eye level.  A second after his foot hit the floor, he bounced on his toes once and kicked the other leg up.  After several more kicks he transitioned into skipping around in a circle, knees high, prancing, then smoothly leaned over into a cartwheel right on the beat.  Completing the cartwheel and landing back on his feet he immediately leaped up and forward, his arms and legs widely spread-eagled.  As soon as his feet touched the floor he sank fluidly down to one knee with his arms held precisely, one straight up and the other pointing rigidly out to the right.  He stayed on his knee, breathing hard from the exertion and beaming in triumph. He knew he'd done the routine letter-perfectly, exactly on the beat, and while wearing 4-inch heels no less!

Ms.  Baker clapped her hands.  She hurried over to where he knelt and took both his hands, pulling him to his feet.  She gave him a hug. Wow!  He must really have done well.

``Honey, that was PERFECT! I'm so proud of you!  I knew you could do it!''

The routine was one the of most difficult ones to master.  Especially while wearing heels.  He felt he'd really accomplished something.  And such demonstrative praise from Ms.  Baker was rare indeed.  He blushed and glanced downward to hide it, a bit embarrassed by her compliment.

His eyes focused on his feet.  Strange that he was now so accustomed to heels that he almost never noticed he had them on anymore unless he saw his feet.  Even though wearing them had become nearly second nature to

him, the sight of his own feet in such feminine shoes still had the power to shock him.  He noticed that Ms.  Baker was wearing ballet slippers, her soles flat against the floor.  Something about that struck him as odd.

``Don't be embarrassed, Honey.  You should be proud of yourself. That's a bitch of a routine.''

Ms.  Baker gently put a finger under his chin and raised his face to look at her.  He looked up and saw her smiling proudly down at him`a Holy Shit!!!  His heart thundered in his chest.  It suddenly hit him what his subconscious mind had noted as strange.  Something was very, very wrong indeed!  He gasped in surprised shock and staggered back a couple of steps.

He was wearing 4-inch heels and he had to look UP at her!!!  UP!

``You okay, Sweetie?''  Ms.  Baker asked, a little concerned.

``Um yeah.  Just got dizzy for a sec.''  He lied.

``Maybe we should call it a day.  No sense overdoing it.  You're coming along so well.  Sit and rest a bit till lunch.''  She began to busy herself collecting up the exercise mats they had used for their warm-ups.

He slumped down to the floor with his back against a wall.  He leaned over and rested his forehead against his knees, shielding his face from view.  He was thinking furiously, trying to remember details of when he first met Ms.  Baker.  He had been barefoot then, he was barefoot all the time the first few days in here.  He was equally certain she had been wearing heels at the time, about 3-inch ones.  And their eyes had been at about the same level.  He remembered thinking at the time that she was tall for a woman.  That would make her maybe 5'10'' or 5'11''. Now with her flatfooted and him in 4-inch heels` a that meant he must now be only about 5'6'' or less!  He had shrunk over 9 inches!

That bitch Amy had to be pulling some shit on him.  He had to get out of here before it was too late.

Josh patted himself with a bit of toilet tissue to blot up any lingering droplets of pee.  His penis had long since shrunken to barely even a nub.  It sat poised just above the tiny opening of his urethra on his otherwise smooth crotch.  With his head clear and time to think he was amazed at how truly odd it was that he had never become upset before now over such a major loss to his anatomy.  Just another added bonus from those little pills he'd been taking.  Well, he was done with that.  He heard a little ``plink!''  as he dropped his pill from dinner into the toilet bowl and breathed a sigh of relief.  He'd successfully managed to palm his medication at both lunch and dinner.

All that afternoon he lay in bed, simulating sleep.  He thought hard and tried to figure out how long he'd been here.  But the previous days were nothing but a blur to him.  Only during his exercise sessions had his mind been clear, and then he'd been busy concentrating on learning all the new routines and didn't have time to think of anything else. Shortly after lunch every day his mind had subsided into a pleasant fuzz and remained that way until he awoke the next day.