Transformed!: I Became A Pop Princess (The Sell Out, #1) (eBook, ePUB)
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Ryan, a perpetually down-on-his luck musician has had it with fickle audiences and small town bars. Suddenly, he's offered an opportunity for fame and fortune - at the mere cost of his identity. Join Ryan as he transforms, mind and body, into the glittery sexy pop star Rose Darling. Excerpt: I was steered back to the bedroom where Gina produced some underwear and a familiar pink dress - the one I had seen on the rendition of 'Rose Darling'. I pulled the silk panties up my legs and they clung tightly on my enhanced bottom. Then I awkwardly struggled with the bra for a while until Gina took pit...
Ryan, a perpetually down-on-his luck musician has had it with fickle audiences and small town bars. Suddenly, he's offered an opportunity for fame and fortune - at the mere cost of his identity. Join Ryan as he transforms, mind and body, into the glittery sexy pop star Rose Darling.
Excerpt: I was steered back to the bedroom where Gina produced some underwear and a familiar pink dress - the one I had seen on the rendition of 'Rose Darling'. I pulled the silk panties up my legs and they clung tightly on my enhanced bottom. Then I awkwardly struggled with the bra for a while until Gina took pity on me and helped me find my breasts into its cups. Then the dress was pulled over my head, and all its poofy petticoats ruffled out. It proudly displayed my cleavage, and the frills and petticoats made me feel like a frosty pink cupcake.
Gina broke out a camera and began taking snapshots, starting with simple poses. It wasn't hard to get me looking demure - all I wanted to do was stare at the ground and forget what I was wearing and what I had become.
She wouldn't let me drift off, however, and she slowly coaxed me into more and more feminine poses. Every time I'd start to brood she'd crack an insult at me and get me back on board until I was wiggling and posing and smiling at her command. The final indignity of the night was when I was forced to replicate the my prototype's pose complete with purse and big, vacant smile. I was mentally and physically exhausted and only wanted to crawl into the big soft bed and sleep.
Gina was wrapping up when she said "One more thing" and left the room for a moment. Shortly she returned and handed me a glossy print-out from our photo shoot, a pen, and a tube of pink lipstick. "Put it on." she commanded, and I moved the waxy cylinder across my lips over and over until she told me to stop. She held the photo out for me, and I kissed it. The big, pink lip print that I left sealed away the last of my masculinity, and underneath I numbly signed 'Rose Darling' in cursive. "That ought to be worth some money someday" she said and tucked it safely away.
Excerpt: I was steered back to the bedroom where Gina produced some underwear and a familiar pink dress - the one I had seen on the rendition of 'Rose Darling'. I pulled the silk panties up my legs and they clung tightly on my enhanced bottom. Then I awkwardly struggled with the bra for a while until Gina took pity on me and helped me find my breasts into its cups. Then the dress was pulled over my head, and all its poofy petticoats ruffled out. It proudly displayed my cleavage, and the frills and petticoats made me feel like a frosty pink cupcake.
Gina broke out a camera and began taking snapshots, starting with simple poses. It wasn't hard to get me looking demure - all I wanted to do was stare at the ground and forget what I was wearing and what I had become.
She wouldn't let me drift off, however, and she slowly coaxed me into more and more feminine poses. Every time I'd start to brood she'd crack an insult at me and get me back on board until I was wiggling and posing and smiling at her command. The final indignity of the night was when I was forced to replicate the my prototype's pose complete with purse and big, vacant smile. I was mentally and physically exhausted and only wanted to crawl into the big soft bed and sleep.
Gina was wrapping up when she said "One more thing" and left the room for a moment. Shortly she returned and handed me a glossy print-out from our photo shoot, a pen, and a tube of pink lipstick. "Put it on." she commanded, and I moved the waxy cylinder across my lips over and over until she told me to stop. She held the photo out for me, and I kissed it. The big, pink lip print that I left sealed away the last of my masculinity, and underneath I numbly signed 'Rose Darling' in cursive. "That ought to be worth some money someday" she said and tucked it safely away.
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