Regmore Rigmin
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Sweetheart TG
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 09:00:08 +0000 UTCKyle had made a mistake—a big one. He thought it would be funny to prank Delta Phi, the most glamorous sorority on campus. He had rigged their hair straighteners to overheat and swapped their foundation with sunscreen. It was meant to be harmless fun, but when the girls’ makeup melted under the hot sun and their straighteners fried their expensive locks, they were furious.
So, when he got an invitation to "make it up" to them at their sorority house, he should have known something was off. But Kyle, ever the overconfident prankster, walked right into the lion’s den.
As soon as he stepped inside, the door locked behind him.
"Well, well, Kyle," Madison, the sorority president, purred. She sat elegantly on the couch, her long nails tapping against the glass coffee table. Behind her, the other girls smiled—predatory, knowing.
"We decided," Madison continued, "that a simple apology isn’t enough. You embarrassed us, so now we’re going to teach you what it feels like."
Kyle scoffed. "What? You’re going to make me wear lipstick?"
The girls exchanged amused looks. "Oh, honey," said one, "you have no idea."
Before he could react, hands grabbed him from all sides, dragging him toward an elaborate vanity table in the middle of the room. His protests were ignored as they stripped him down to his boxers and sat him in a chair.
"You’re going to love this," giggled Sophie, one of the girls. "Or maybe you won’t. Either way, we will."
They started with his body hair. Hot wax was smoothed over his legs, arms, and chest before being ripped away mercilessly. Kyle howled in pain as strip after strip left his skin smooth and soft.
"Shh," Madison cooed, pressing a finger to his lips. "You wanted to mess with beauty products? Now you get to experience them firsthand."
Next came the nails. They glued on long, almond-shaped acrylics, painting them a delicate blush pink. Kyle struggled, but with his arms restrained, he could do nothing but watch as they shaped and buffed his new claws.
"Time for a little enhancement," said Lacey, holding up a padded bra and a pair of realistic silicone breast forms. Kyle's eyes widened in horror.
"You can’t be serious—"
They were.
The girls glued the forms onto his chest, ensuring they were seamlessly attached to his skin. Then came the waist cincher—tight, suffocating, forcing his torso into an exaggerated hourglass.
"Look at that figure," Madison smirked. "Almost better than ours."
Kyle thought they were done, but he was wrong. Next came the hair.
"His short hair won’t do," Sophie said, examining him critically. "Luckily, we have a solution."
They secured a high-quality blonde wig to his head, but not before dying the edges of his real hair to blend in.
"You’ll be stuck with these roots for weeks," one girl teased as she ran her fingers through his now golden locks.
Then, the makeup.
Foundation, concealer, contour—his features were sculpted into perfection. His brows were plucked into thin, arched lines, and his lashes were extended with glue and individual falsies. Eyeshadow in neutral browns and shimmering golds made his eyes pop, and a perfectly overlined pink pout sealed the deal.
By the time they were done, Kyle barely recognized himself in the mirror.
The Outfit That Seals the Deal
"Now for the final touch," Madison announced.
A tight white turtleneck hugged his new feminine frame, the corset emphasizing his curves. High-waisted denim shorts showed off his freshly waxed legs.
"Almost perfect," Sophie murmured, slipping black suspenders over his shoulders. "Now, what should we call you?"
The girls erupted into laughter as they snapped photos, immortalizing his transformation.
"You know," Madison said, tapping her chin, "we could let you go. Or… we could send you out to test your new look in public."
Kyle swallowed hard. He had played a prank on the wrong girls, and now he was stuck—utterly, completely, and helplessly transformed.
The door opened.
"Time to meet the world, sweetheart."
