Thank God the pain only lasted a second, although it took minutes to recover. But at least they seemed satisfied and I could sense they were done between my legs. No, I take that back. Something else was pushed inside me, something cold and smooth that was too thick to go in. But they pushed harder and suddenly it pushed through my resistance, and my body simply sucked it inside, stopping immediately again as the next part was even wider, stopping at my entrance.

The cold was gone soon and I figured it was a smooth metal, a plug of some kind, that wasn't unpleasant, but I was very aware of its presence. By the time I realized it was a butt plug inside me, they were using some sort of a marker on my chest.

When they seemed satisfied after numerous lines in my chest area, I suddenly felt a prick of a needle, as apparently they gave me a shot. And although I couldn't feel it really it seemed like my whole chest area went numb.

I tried to figure out what they were doing, as sometimes I could feel their touch on my skin outside the numbed area. But it was a mystery, though a nagging feeling started in my mind. I was made to look like a woman and after they apparently did something to give me a “pussy”, then were they now giving me breasts?

I realized I never had a chance to mull things over when Harold wanted me to look more female. I figured he meant a wig, some makeup, maybe a dress, and worst case a bra with some padding.

But I realized my changes were more permanent than expected. No wig, but somehow they made my own hair longer. And my lips thicker, and what had they tattooed on my face? And before they glued my eyes closed I saw the mud bath. Was it meant to color my skin darker, as they put me on the tanning bed afterwards? And they inserted something inside me that they could control with a remote, giving me pain or pleasure. And I had the feeling they weren't just gluing fake breasts on me, because why numb me?

Both Harold and Alexandra had said something like my wife wouldn't recognize me after being changed into a maid servant. I had been so naive, thinking after my contract was up and my debt paid off that I could become myself again. My wife would probably not even believe it when a maid servant told her she was her husband. And how would I ever go back home? Even if they gave my passport back, who would believe it was me? It suddenly hit me. My old life was over, and I was at the mercy of Harold.

I didn't even notice that at some point the activity in my chest area stopped and when they injected something in my arm a blissful black overtook me and any thought stopped.

It was weird, but when I woke up, in a normal bed, thank God, I couldn't open my eyes, and suddenly everything rushed back into my mind. My chest was hurting, my throat was hurting, and I could still feel that plug inside me. And I had to pee.

In all these new feelings that very familiar need to pee was the most urgent. I sat up in bed and I cried for help. Believe me, no decent sound came from me, other than a weird croak. But apparently it was enough as I heard Alexandra's voice, telling me not to speak, which I was fine with. But then she said she'd take me to the bathroom and I knew she was my angel no matter what had happened.

She wanted to know if I needed to do a number two, and I confirmed that, and her hand was between my legs suddenly and she pulled on the plug somehow. My muscles seemed to hang on to it however, but after a short discomfort, not even pain, the thing suddenly popped out. And she pushed me down to sit on the toilet and I simply let go.

I emptied out on both sides and when the initial pressure was relieved I slowly felt what was on my chest. I couldn't help it but I let out a sigh about the fact that my breasts didn't seem too big. I could still fit my hands around them, and I could clearly feel some bandages.

Apparently Alexandra had stayed around and seen me touching myself. “Hope you like those boobs. No worries, they'll grow a few sizes once the hormones kick in.”

Hormones? I tried to reply, but my voice still didn't cooperate. But she understood anyway.

“Yes. With your debt growing quickly Harold figured you'll be around for a few years, so he wants you to become a real woman, mentally as well. Yesterday a doctor implanted a device in your rectum that will slowly but continuously release female hormones into your system. Today you will be getting new paperwork and you'll be officially Zyanya Forrester, daughter to a Mexican woman and an American father. He raised you there, but you were recently deemed illegal and deported back to Mexico. Because you speak English so well Harold hired you as his personal servant, but you'll have to learn your mother language real quickly.”

I finally managed a few words, and even my pitch was higher, more like a woman. My wife would want to know where I was. Didn't I do this all for her?

That's when Alexandra explained how my wife was mourning, as she found out this morning that Reggy, her husband, passed away yesterday, in a terrible car accident on his way to the airport. He burned to death in a blaze, his remains unrecognizable but for a piece of his passport that survived the fire and his heat resistant wallet. As her passport was in the same pouch, she'll be stuck here for a few months until new paperwork gets sent over. Thank God that Harold and Daquisha stand by her, and help her in this ordeal.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was officially dead? Officially a Mexican woman now? With no chance to go back home, since I was deported. It all became too much and I started crying, something that made me realize I was already more female than I thought.

Alexandra soothed me, saying she was my friend and she'd help me through all this, teach me Spanish, and I could work in her salon on the days that Harold didn't need me. And she had a room for me, for the nights that Harold didn't need me.

Afterwards she gave me an enema again, something that I would need to learn to do myself as it was one of Harold's rules for me. “Be ready for sex, anytime, anywhere.”

And thus did the butt plug go back in as well.

Part of the reason why my debt had gone up so quickly was that Harold had “loaned” me the money to pay for the surgery to remove my anomaly, which has bothered me pretty much since birth apparently. It was up to me to decide when I was “ready” for it, though it was expected within the next year. With a “real” pussy it would be easier for me as well to find a husband.

The reason why my eyes were still glued close was because I needed one more tanning session, which we did right after breakfast. First a laser session, not the painful one to remove my hair, but one to open my pores. Then the mud bath again, and finally the tanning bed. When she finally dissolved the glue, the first thing I saw was myself in a large mirror.

I didn't believe it at first but the woman in the mirror was mimicking every move I made. She was clearly of Mexican heritage, though not as dark as Alexandra who stood beside me, thanks to my “white father”. I had long black hair and my face was professionally made up. Pretty I thought first, then I corrected myself. I was beautiful.

Somehow my waist was more narrow, thanks to a wrap that seemed part of my skin, but it gave me curves I didn't have before. And then, between my legs, my “anomaly”, still locked in a metal cage. The only thing left of Reggy, even though Reggy was dead.

My thoughts were for Jolene suddenly. A widow now, stuck in a foreign country. Once it was my time to work for Harold I would probably see her. Maybe I could whisper to her that Reggy wasn't dead and give her hope and take away some of her pain.

It was like Alexandra guessed my thoughts. “You can never tell her, or they may kill her, or worse, send her to one of the whore houses. Accept that Reggy is dead and let your wife accept that too. She's young and beautiful and with Harold's help the world is her oyster. Don't waste her future please, if you love her then don't tell her.”

Her words did more for me to accept my fate than any of the changes that had been applied to me. I had protected her as well as I could and lost my life doing so. Without me, she still had a bright future. My own future, as Zyanya, was maybe not as bright, but I was beautiful too, had a job, and I found a friend in Alexandra, who had her hand on my shoulder now. I nodded and told her, “please help me how to be Zyanya”.

Oh, there's more to being a woman than having breasts and long hair and makeup. And there's more to being a Mexican woman than having dark skin and being pretty. I had to learn how to dress, to match colors and styles, the feeling of bra's, panties, heels and stockings. I had to learn to clean and cook, dressed in what was to be my uniform, which was nothing like the maids in the hotel, the way it oozed sexiness and submission.

I had to learn to do my own makeup, even though my face had a permanent blush and bright red lips tattooed on me, as well as some smart shading around my eyes. But, to help here in the salon, or Harold's wife, and perhaps even Jolene, Alexandra taught me everything she knew.

She spoke only Spanish to me now, and although she hated it, she had to use the remote to punish me for any mistake I made, because Harold would demand perfection. I learned to accept the pain as much as the pleasure she also gave me, as we slept together in her bed. She was a passionate lover and I slowly started enjoying being a woman. Her woman.

In the end it took a month before I started my employment as Harold's maid servant. I had to take the bus to the hotel and only a thin coat hid my sexy uniform from hungry eyes. But even that I was prepared for, as Alexandra was a good teacher. For the past week I had been dreaming, in Spanish, and as Zyanya, with my background story more familiar now than old memories of being Reggy.

Harold approved of my looks and he had me suck his dick right away. And my lessons with Alexandra kicked in, as we both enjoyed the enhanced experience. Switching back to English was not a problem, but I had a slight accent now, which he perceived as sexy.

Next, he officially took my flower, and once more I had to thank my training as I took him in like a champ. What I wasn't prepared for was how much I enjoyed having a real dick inside me versus the dildo I had practiced with.

Apparently, Harold had his own remote to “control” me, and he rewarded me with three orgasms before he shot his load into me. And after he finally pulled out, I quickly inserted my buttplug again to keep his goo from leaking out. When I got up from all fours I looked Jolene straight in the eyes, as she had appeared with Daquisha.

They looked at me with interest, as I straightened my skirts and did a curtsy for them, saying "My ladies", then disappeared to clean their rooms.

Later that day Harold showed me a spreadsheet in his study. It had all “costs” he had spent “on me”, which included a complete new wardrobe for my wife, as well as for me, all Alaxandra's time and expenses, the doctor and the procedures he did on me, including the very expensive thing inside me. Then there were the costs related to Reggy's death, two cars that had burned out, drivers who had miraculously survived the crash, and a bribed police chief to handle things swiftly, as well as the costs for cremating “my remains”. Even the money he spent to sell off everything Jolene and I owned back home, as apparently she had no interest in going back.

Then there was my fake paperwork in the name of Zyanya, and the money set aside for my final surgery, and I owed him around half a million in US currency. And still counting, as my wife, my ex-wife really, my widow even, liked her new lavish lifestyle.

He was willing to reduce my debt by twenty-five percent, if I would have my scrotum removed within a week, which meant I no longer needed my cage, and it would explain better my anomaly at birth, while still being identified as female. A side effect would be that my hormonal treatment would become more effective.

I had accepted already that there was no way out for me but move on forward, living as Zyanya, and the little cage actually bothered me in that, but I didn't want to seem eager, so I negotiated an extra five percent reduction on my debt, plus he would pay for my surgery, and I would need two weeks recovery time.

He actually enjoyed bargaining with me, and we discussed some of the terms of “my employment contract”. I would work here in the hotel as his personal servant for four days, including three nights in his bed, which paid way more than the occasional blow jobs and fucks I performed separately.

The other nights I would spend with Alexandra or any man I chose to sleep with, as long as he was approved by both Harold and Alexandra. I would work two days in her salon, and one day per week I would be off.

Apparently Jolene and Daquisha shared a room and bed together and they were very much in love. Which was fine with Harold as long as he got enough three-somes with them, and was allowed other women in his bed, me being one of them. So far he had not fucked Jolene, as she was mourning for Reggy, but that period was over in two weeks, and she couldn't wait for Harold's dick inside her, as that lacked in their lesbian lifestyle.

I thought it was ironic that the one reason I ended up in this situation was to prevent having my wife being fucked by Harold, but right now I used it to negotiate that from the moment she and Harold fucked, she was no longer my responsibility, and my debt would no longer grow.

It was funny as well that as Reggy I had nothing in common with Harold. But as Zyanya, in the months that followed, with all his control over me in both pleasure and pain, he enjoyed my company, and I became his confidant, as he shared more of his business and problems with me. He valued my opinion, and although I was his maid, his servant, he put more value in my words than many of his advisors.

I have to say that getting rid of my balls was one of my better decisions as it sped up my path to womanhood, but it also sealed my relationship with Alexandra. We would get married as soon as I had my own pussy, the surgery being set within six months.

But the sex… the sex was best. With Harold, who spent more and more on lavish gifts for me, jewelry and dresses, my maid uniform was long forgotten, as I became his business partner. Funny detail was that the first dress he bought for me was the same beach dress that his wife was wearing at the time.

With Jolene and Daquisha, as I spent many hours in their bed, eating them out, or letting them have their way with me. They were fascinated with my anomaly, and even more with the remote that gave them power over me and my orgasms. But, it gave me power over them, as I decided when to give them my remote, ever since the day Harold gave it to me as proof of his devotion to seeing me as his business partner.

And then with Alex, my new wife, soon after my final surgery, from which I woke up with my three favorite women at my bedside. Jolene and Daquisha were our maids of honor, ironic right? While Harold paid for the complete wedding and honeymoon.

Exactly one year after I gave the first blow job in my life, essentially giving up life as I knew it, as Reggy died that night as well, my dire future as a maid servant with an impossible debt, exactly one year later I was debt free, making millions as Harold's business partner, making even more with Alex's salon, no longer in the outskirts of town, but in the center of the most expensive mall on the hotel strip, with franchises starting all around the country. Named after me, Zyanya, meaning Forever.