SpiralledEye
patreon
Qipao Magic [Man to Chinese Woman TG]
🕑 Added 2025-02-09 21:45:48 +0000 UTCCommissioned by Randomguy43
While exploring the backroom of a museum, a man finds himself bewitched by a mysterious qipao and then transformed into a busty Chinese beauty.
~
Henry looked around listlessly at the museum pieces. The museum was supposed to be a highlight of this trip, holding everything from ancient pottery to war memorabilia. In the guidebook, it said it was ‘the perfect place to get a snapshot of all the history and wonder China had to offer. It seemed like the ideal place to start his trip and hopefully find guidance on what to do next.
Taking a gap year to travel had been an excuse to avoid going back to university. The truth was, Henry had picked China totally on a whim based on the hot Chinese chick who worked at the uni bar. Now, he was regretting it. The truth was, he wasn't interested in Chinese history at all, or China for that matter. Hell, he didn't even like rice! And he was so sick of getting stared at; apparently, brown hair and pale skin was all it took.
So he walked from room to room, disinterested and occasionally snapping a picture at random just so he didn’t come off as rude. He stared at yet another glass cabinet of pottery and rolled his eyes.
“Wow, more plates. Fascinating…” He muttered. “Maybe I should have just gone to California for a year and gotten drunk.”
He turned into the next room, silently dreading more plates and vases only to find something worse. Clothes. Mannequins stood posed in various traditional Chinese outfits based on era. Who the hell was interested in clothes like this? Half of them looked the same anyway.
Quickly, he made his way down the corridor, eager to finish the circuit and make his way out the front door. He was so hasty in fact that he started to speed walk, and a second later, he felt his whole body jerk as he stood on his own shoelace. His arms flailed as they failed to keep him upright, and Henry swore as he slammed into the ground, knocking a mannequin on his way down.
“Oh no…”
He could only watch in horror as the domino effect began, each model knocking over the next until the entire display was on the ground. That clothing may have been boring, but Henry knew it must be valuable. Far too expensive for him to pay any damage costs on, that was for sure. A cold dread washed over him as he heard footsteps coming. He could see the news titles flash before his eyes
‘IDIOT AMERICAN DESTROYS PRICELESS HISTORICAL ARTIFACTS’
Heart in his throat, Henry left to his feet and ran, running straight for the room marked ‘storage no entry’ and bearing it no heed. He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him. Breathing heavily.
“Okay…okay, okay, okayokayokayokay.” He panicked. “Just think this through, hang out here for an hour or so while they look, then slip out a side exit. It’ll be easy…”
A shuffle of footsteps outside the door made him almost jump out of his skin. Maybe moving toward the back was a good idea. Moving as carefully as he could through the dusty boxes, Henry snuck toward the back of the room. He could only hope they wouldn’t look back here if they walked in. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eyes, and he stopped. There, amongst the forgotten crates, was a dress form and draped over it, a beautiful red qipao.
It was long, made from bright red silk with golden edges and embroidery. From this distance, the decorations looked almost like clouds but there was something…mesmerising about them. Henry felt his breath catch in his throat as he was drawn towards it by some invisible force, compelled to reach out and brush his fingers over the delicate stitching.
They were clouds, but flying out of them were beautiful golden birds. He may not have been interested in fashion but even Henry could admire the craftsmanship. The buttons were knots of gold, shaped like little flowers and the high necklace was decorated with even more gold braid.
“It’s so…beautiful.”
All his panic seemed to wash away as he looked at the beautiful qipao; it was as if its very presence was calming. The shuffling footsteps outside the storeroom faded away, everything did, except the dress. It drew him in; so much more beautiful than the display outfits he’d knocked over; why would they hide it back here? It was more interesting than everything else in this museum combined.
Henry ran a hand over the traditional knotted buttons and found himself undoing them. He knew he shouldn’t touch anything, especially not after causing all that chaos but he just couldn't help himself. The fabric was so soft.
“I wonder what it would feel like to wear.”
He’d never been interested in women’s clothing before, but this qipao was different, he could feel it. The next thing he knew, it was in his hands, and his clothing was on the floor; when had that happened? It didn’t matter; what mattered was that it was done so he may as well try it on. Nobody else would have to know.
Almost in a trace, Henry raised the dress up over his head and let it flow down his body. It shouldn't have fit, but somehow, it did, like a glove. His breath caught in his throat.
“This feels…nice.”
The dress seemed to hug his body tightly, but not uncomfortably. Then Henry realised something else was going on. The dress was pressing against his chest and he could feel the stitches moving. The fabric was changing shape!
“W-what?”
More than that, the dress was moulding his skin, moving it and making it change as well. His chest started to tingle as the fabric seemed to draw it out, forcing his flat chest to start to swell. Becoming full as two distinct mounds began to form there.
“W-what!? No, I didn’t…this isn’t what I thought would happen!”
The spell seemed to break, and he reached for the ties, but before he could stop them, they knotted themselves closed, and no amount of pulling would convince them to move. That tingling, changing sensation in his chest was getting stronger, and Henry could only stare down helplessly as his new breasts grew in.
“Oooooooooh!” He groaned, he could feel his legs starting to change now as well. He stuck one out the side through the slit in the qipao and gasped, watching the leg hair disappear and his calves turn smooth as the silk he was wearing. His skin was turning a gorgeous shade of olive, and his feet turned to delicate, dainty things with perfect half-moon nails.
That leg spasmed slightly, and he was forced to press his now thick thighs together and moan as he felt something else happening between his legs. The fabric was pressing there, pushing and shifting his cock and balls around.
“Oh no, not that!”
But of course, there was nothing he could do to stop it as his manhood disappeared. He could feel all the testosterone in his body disappearing with it. Soft pussy lips formed between his legs, and with them, a flood of estrogen entered his system. He shuddered and held out his hands, watching as that darker skin tone spread over his whole body.
“I have to get this off!” He cried. “Oh my gosh, m-my voice!”
It didn't even sound like his voice anymore, it was higher and had a thick accent. He tried in vain to speak without it, to get his normal accent back but it was impossible. His lips were tingling as they changed shape, and his tongue felt heavy.
“Oh no! On no!”
He stumbled, feeling his hips widen and a womb form inside him. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was somehow being turned into a Chinese woman by this magical qipao, and there was nothing he could do to stop it!
A flash from the corner of his eye revealed an ancient-looking mirror sitting against one of the crates, which was half covered in a cloth. He rushed for it, ripping off the cloth and coughing as dust swirled in the air. With each deep breath he was forced to take to try and clear his lungs, he felt his breasts expand further.
When he finally caught his breath, Henry gasped at his reflection. He now had a beautiful pair of breasts, invisibly supported by the qipao. The dress had a high neckline and was conservative but did nothing to hide their size. Before his eyes, his face was changing as well. He pressed a soft finger tip to his cheeks, watching as they became sharp, cheekbones rising high and prominent, giving his face that distinctive Chinese look. His lips were now two beautiful pink folders with a prominent cupid bow and were very full. So full the bottom lip was almost twice the thickness of the top. He ran a finger across them, marvelling at how soft and sensitive they were, then gasping in surprise as a layer of bright red appeared over them.
“Oh, that looks nice…wait, no! I’m not supposed to be enjoying this!”
He wanted to believe it was a dream, that he’d been so bored in the museum he’d fallen asleep, and any second, he’d jerk awake and be back in his male body. But no matter how many times he blinked, his reflection didn't change. In fact, the only thing it seemed to do was make his eyelids feel heavier as his lashes grew and his eyes took on a pleasing and distinct almond shape.
His boring brown hair turned a shiny shade of jet black and began to grow. Downwards at first, flowing over his shoulders like a black waterfall. But then, it began to rise, defying all gravity as if magical hands were lifting it. The hair seemed to brush and style itself before his very eyes before a pair of red chopsticks appeared and pinned it all in place into a bun atop his head.
All the finer details were being done now; his limbs thinned, his shoulders sloped, and his height decreased. It had only taken a few minutes, but now there was nothing male about him left. He was a beautiful, willowy Chinese woman dressed in that stunning red and gold qipao.
“Okay, just keep calm, Henry.” He told himself in thickly accented English. “If the dress transformed you, taking it off should fix it…”
Henry stopped for a moment and tried to take deep, calming breaths, but that only made his panic worse. With each breath in, he could feel the rise and fall of his new breasts; their weight on his chest was a constant reminder. Even if he closed his eyes, he couldn’t forget what had happened. Not for a second.
He fumbled with the qipao ties only to find them impossible to undo. The qipao had perfectly moulded itself to his new body; making it impossible to remove without undoing the ties. He tugged uselessly at the high collar and long skirt but not a single stitch gave.
“Come on! It has to come off!”
In desperation, he ripped open the crates, looking for anything that could help and eventually found an ornate looking knife with a swan carved into the handle. Despite its age, the metal glinted, still sharp. Not caring how much the qipao was worth, Henry started slashing, but it was useless. Even when he stabbed the knife into his side at full strength, all he achieved was a bruise. The silk may as well have been bulletproof kevlar! Even sawing the knife across the seams did nothing; he was stuck.
As if things couldn't get any worse, the door suddenly burst open. Light from the hall spilled in, creeping between the crates as security walked in, baton in hand. Henry was suddenly frozen in fear; what would the security guard say when he found him wearing what was probably a priceless artefact? He’d be looking at jail time for sure! The man rounded the corner and shone a light into Henry’s face, making him blink and hold up his arms.
“What are you doing in here, miss?” The man asked in Chinese.
“I…got lost.” Henry lied, only realising a few seconds later he wasn't speaking English anymore.
“Well, you can’t be in here. Let me escort you back out to the main lobby.”
Huh? Henry just nodded, dumbfounded and followed the guard out of the room. The sound of clicking heels made him look down at his own feet in confusion; he hadn't even seen those golden shoes appear, and yet there they were, fitting snugly on his feet as if they were made for him.
A few attendants were fixing the display, muttering to themselves about ignorant male tourists. None of them gave him a second glance; did none of them recognise the qipao? Surely somebody would know it didn’t belong to him, but nobody stopped him. Not even the museum director as he walked by with a group of investors. He simply smiled and nodded as he passed, though Henry watched as his eyes dipped ever so slightly to stare at his lips for a moment before continuing on.
“Here, from now on, please stay within the designated areas.” The guard said stiffly, giving him a quick nod before leaving.
Henry swallowed; he felt lost. His bag was still checked in at the desk; he could try to get it, but the last thing he wanted right now was to draw attention to himself by trying to ‘steal’ a tourist's bag.
The city sprawled out before her, a sprawling mix of ancient history and modern bustle and it had never looked more intimidating. No identification, no money, nothing but his new beauty and the apparently magical qipao. Anxiety pressed down on his chest like an unseen weight. He had no plan, no contacts, and no safety net.
He looked back over his shoulder at the museum, half expecting that security guard to appear and demand he strip out of the valuable dress. That thought spurred him down the stairs and out into the city. The qipao was the only thing he had now. He needed to find a way to take it off and then maybe sell it to buy a ticket out of this crazy country.
Without thinking, he made his way back to the hotel, only to realise he had no room card. It was back in his bag at the museum, and there was no way to prove who he was. Hell, even if he had his ID the concierge wouldn't believe him.
“I’d kill to have that soft bed now,” he muttered, his feet were aching from walking in these heels; how did women do it all day?
The intoxicating smell of street food made his stomach growl and twist painfully. His fingers trembled as they ran down the smooth sides of the silk dress, but, of course, there was no wallet to find. He sighed softly and began walking, unsure of where he was headed, just knowing he couldn’t stay on the street for too long.
The sun set and a restaurant’s brightly lit sign caught his eye, the golden characters glowing in the night. The window revealed tables filled with groups of people eating, laughing, and talking. He hesitated just outside the door, he hated the idea of begging, but what choice did he have? Odds were it wouldn't even work, nobody would believe a woman in perfect make-up and a dress this fine couldn't afford to pay. Steeling himself, he took a breath and entered.
The hostess smiled as he walked in and Henry felt sweat start to form down his back.
"Do you need a table?" The woman asked in fluent Chinese.
“I—uh, yes, I would like to eat,” he replied, his voice quieter than he intended, unsure how to proceed without money or a plan.
“Certainly, come with me.”
He stood there for a moment, feeling vulnerable, before following and taking a seat.
The seat felt plush, or perhaps it was his new ass cushioned on the bed of silk that was the back of the dress. He poured over the menu for a moment before the waiter appeared. He was a young man with bright eyes who seemed to stand just a little too close and frowned when Henry only ordered a bowl of rice and soup. The cheapest things on the menu.
“You should try the duck,” he insisted. “Or perhaps the chow mein, it’s to die for.”
“Oh no…” Henry squirmed nervously. “I…have a very strict budget.”
“Then it's on the house.” The waiter grinned, and Henry was taken aback; something like this had never happened before.
“T-thank you.”
“Anything for a beautiful lady.” He winked before disappearing.
Henry just stared after him.
“What?”
The food came, and as the night went on, he realised something unexpected was happening. He wasn’t just being served; he was being treated with a level of care he hadn't anticipated. His beauty seemed to open doors for him. The waiter continued to flirt lightly and offer to comp drinks, so Henry grew bolder. He made eye contact with the staff, offering gentle smiles, and soon, he was being brought dish after dish of food he didn’t order.
By the time he finished his meal, he was feeling more aware of his new body in new ways. He stood and took note of how to hold himself so that the curve of his ass was showing in the tight dress. With each step, the silk glided over his skin, like a lover’s touch. He let his shoulders relax, and his arms sway a little to help show off his new curves. Eyes from people around the restaurant were on him, and for once, the attention felt good. He was still nervous, but he couldn’t deny the effect this body was having.
“I seem to have left my purse at home,” he told the hostess as she passed over the bill.
“Oh, it’s on us.” His waiter said, appearing before the hostess could argue. “Well, on me.”
His smile was kind but also hungry; Henry could see him eyeing the ties on the high collar of the qipao. No doubt he was imagining undoing them. It was now or never to press his luck. The hostess disappeared, probably to tell a manager it was now or never.
“I was actually wondering if you know a place to stay. One in my budget?”
“Your budget being zero?”
“Yes…” He flushed.
“You could stay with me.” The waiter suggested a little too quickly.
It was tempting, and Henry hated that. How far he’d fallen in a single day tHenrys to this damn cursed qipao. He could see the look in the man's eyes; that place wouldn’t be free. There would be a price. A price he wasn't ready to pay just yet.
“No, I was thinking somewhere like a hostel?”
The smile fell from the waiter's face, and Henry realised it was best to get out while he still could, free meal in hand. It was getting late now, and Beijing was coming alive around him with lights and people. The meal had been solid, enough to keep him full till morning, but it had also been educational. If a few smiles could get him a decent meal, maybe it could get him somewhere to stay. Somewhere where he wouldn’t have to risk debasing himself.
He straightened his back and held his head high, trying his best to put on an air of confidence. If he could use this body to its full potential, anything was possible.
~
The next few days passed in a blur. Henry learned how to smile and tilt his head just enough to get a kind soul to buy him a drink in exchange for an hour of his time. He learned how much he could tease without leading men on too much. He learned how to hold himself so that simply by walking down the street, he could make heads turn. Meals came, as did places to rest his head. A few sweet words to a kind old hotel owner earned him a small room at the back, so long as he kept it clean and didn’t bring in any unsavoury types.
“If people see a lady as smart as you coming to my hotel, they will think it's a classy place and stay here too!” The man insisted, “If you could just spend some time in the lobby, it would cover your payments.”
The man clearly just wanted to be able to perv whenever he felt like it, but Henry didn’t care. So long as he kept his hands to himself. It was absurd just how much beauty could buy. He’d always known some women skated by in life on nothing but what God gave them, but it was insane how much he could get with so little. He’d even charmed his way into a few presents from kind men who seemed happy just to have the attention of a beautiful woman.
They sold for enough to cover meals on the days he couldn't flirt his way into them. Slowly, he started saving, but for what he wasn't sure. A flight home? A doctor visit to try and fix this? There were plenty of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners around, one of those might take him seriously. Each idea seemed sillier than the last and like a one way trip to a mental asylum. All thanks to this strange qipao.
On the one hand, it was a pain not being able to take the dress off, but it never seemed to get dirty and at night, it would change into a wonderfully soft nightgown. It seemed it could be whatever he wanted, but the qipao’s original look was growing on him. In fact, he was starting to like his new appearance quite a bit, and not just because it could get him things with just a simple sway of his hips.
Henry caught himself admiring his reflection more and more, running his fingers over his smooth cheeks. They felt like soft porcelain, and the red lips added a bit of dazzle without being too obscene. His smiles and flirtations were slowly becoming genuine; and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.
He sat in the hotel lobby as requested, one leg over the other as he reclined in one of the plush armchairs, magazine in hand, while he sipped a bottle of complimentary water. His eyes slid to one of the decorative mirrors and smiled; the owner was right, he did look classy. Henry had never felt classy before. Funny how now that he had less money than ever, he felt all the richer.
“Good evening.” Said a deep voice in thickly accented Mandarin.
Henry turned to see a handsome looking western man with bright blue eyes smiling at him. He was dressed in light clothes, with a backpack hanging off one shoulder and a very expensive looking camera around his neck.
“Good evening,” Henry replied in English. His mother tongue felt alien to him now, but he had to admit the accent was a bit sexy.
“Are you local?” The man asked.
“...Sort of.”
The man chuckled.
“A mysterious answer.”
“I’m a mysterious woman.”
Henry giggled flirtatiously; it came so easy to him now. Funny, how just a little bit of attention could get most men on the hook. A wink or a laugh at a joke and their eagerness did the rest for him. He had to wonder if he had really been that gullible once. This man was no different. He sat himself down in the armchair across from Henry and held up his camera.
“Can I take your picture?”
“Only if you’re in it with me.” Henry winked, sitting up and coming to kneel next to the chair. He rested his head against the armrest, and the man’s eyes sparkled. This supplicant position was all Henry needed to do to get this guy’s imagination running wild. Gaining a dinner invitation would be simple. The man snapped a picture of the two of them and grinned as he looked back at it.
“I’m Jacob.” The man introduced.
“Ming.”
It had been the first name he’d thought of when somebody first asked his name. He couldn’t really go around calling himself Henry in this body. And in the week that had passed, ‘Ming’ had settled over him like a comfortable blanket. It didn’t even feel like a lie.
“Well, Ming, would you like to keep me company over dinner tonight? My treat.”
Henry smiled.
“Why, that sounds lovely.”
It was strange; something felt different about Jacob. Not in the sense that Henry felt anything for him; this was no love at first sight story, but there was something in his eyes that felt different to the other men he’d charmed. The others had looked hungry, ready to devour him at any moment and clearly waiting for an invitation to bed. Jacob stared in wonder; there was genuine awe in his eyes each time Henry laughed and smiled, and his finger twitched, reaching for his camera every few seconds.
They travelled to that same restaurant he’d been to his first night as a woman and were seated by the same waiter. Though this time he was scowling; no free duck on the house this time. Not when he knew he had no chase. Still, Henry smiled gently and sipped at his wine like an expert. Pursuing his lips to show them off in the most alluring way and watching as the waiter almost overfilled Jacob’s drink because he was so distracted.
“Can I take more photos of you?” Jacob asked eventually. “You’re…perfect.”
“Oh? Tell me more.”
“The hair, the eyes, it’s as if you’re the perfect oriental beauty. Sorry, I know I’m not supposed to use that word, but it’s true.”
“And you want to photograph me…nothing more.”
“Nothing more.” Jacob blushed. “I know, I know, that’s probably hard to believe, but I really just want to capture the truest essence of China.”
“And you think that’s me?”
“Absolutely.”
Henry thought for a moment, if nothing else, it might buy him a few more meals.
“Well, then. Let’s go take some photos.”
They finished their dinner and set off into the streets of the city. Jacob adjusted his camera nervously as he watched Henry from behind the lens each time they stopped. He had already taken several shots, but he couldn’t stop staring. Henry adjusted the collar of the qipao, lips curling up slightly at the corner as he glanced at Jacob with a smirk.
“I want to capture... you doing quintessential Chinese things. The city, the culture—it’s all so beautiful. And you…you capture it all perfectly.”
Henry giggled, he had no idea how ironic those words were.
“I think you’ll look incredible in photos next to the old architecture, with the lanterns hanging above, or maybe by the lake, where the lights dance on the water…”
When he put it like that, it did sound quite magical.
Jacob snapped a few shots near a busy market street, Henry standing casually in the glow of the red lanterns that lined the alleyways. His qipao danced slightly in the evening breeze.
Jacob took several shots and then examined each picture in turn with a huge smile on his face.
“Incredible, here, come look!”
Henry had seen his reflection since the change, of course, many times, but he felt his breath catch in his throat when he looked at the photos. Even on the tiny screen, he seemed to draw the eye; his perfectly sculpted face and dark eyes were alluring and held his gaze. Is that what he truly looked like? No wonder people were so easily charmed.
“I have a whole trip planned,” Jacob explained. “Travelling all over China to capture the different sides of the country….you could come with me as my muse.”
“Your Muse?”
“Yes! I’ll cover your expenses, of course!” Jacob said quickly, clearly eager. “You could be the constant in the collection, the beautiful woman travelling to see more of her own culture…”
Henry thought for a moment. Being this man’s personal muse would mean a life of luxury. He’d never have to work again, no more university, no more putting his nose to the grindstone. The only trade off would be staying in this beautiful Chinese woman’s body forever. He ran a hand over the soft silk of the qipao and smiled; it wasn't really much of a choice.
