Had brief inspiration last night and sat a wrote this very brief, story, caption to a picture I was sent a while ago.
It's not very long, more a swift out pouring. However I am writing a longer story, less about feminisation and more in the mold of my earlier fetish work.
Anyway, hope this tickles the spot for you.
In A Foreign Land
Each woman graceful and beautiful bowed as the tall man, suited and brief cased passed by. The ambassador turned. “Please your majesty if you hear of anything please contact the embassy"
After the car had driven from view along the long dusty drive way the woman tuned to the young beauty beside her. She paused and smiled.
“You said nothing Child, you could have spoken up and be travelling home now, but you did not”.
The stunning woman,exotic and sensual stroked a long deeply glossed finger across the young beauties deeply rouged cheek.
“It seems so long now, you were so wet and so helpless beside the road, how you were so happy to come under my roof, into my palace. How shy you were when we first presented our dry clothes. They were like nothing you had ever seen before. Outfits befitting a palace of femininity.
We recall how you were so confused and unsure when my maidens bathed and dressed you, how you were consumed by shame and embarrassment as my they painted your pretty face, your pretty, pretty wide eyed face, their skill and magic revealing, with a myriad of colours and shades, the sensual femininity beneath.
And we recall the look on your face as our mirrored walls revealed to you your future, My maidens in their gowns of gold and were beautiful beside you, but you Child, you were something more, something special, something new.
Your limbs seemed longer, your skin seemed darker and warmer, enriched with the honey from my gardens. Your hair was thinker and glossier and your face, your new face was softer, lips fuller, eyes wider, The young man beside the road, the sodden, bedraggled helpless boy had gone and in our palace of femininity he had been reborn, a vision, a wonder and in time, bathed in the warmth of our love, the heat our desire, and the sweat of our bodies will become a new Goddess"
The young beauty remained still, as ever the Princesses words meant nothing to him, they were a language he did not understand and had not understood as they offered him shelter from that storm, But none of that mattered now, for he was no longer the young man, the boy, wet and lost beside the road in a foreign land, far from home, now in his rescuers hands he had become a glistening bejeweled vision of utter femininity and in their beds he would become so much more.