Daniel sat stiffly across from the fortune teller, his arms folded and expression skeptical. The scent of burning sage mingled with a faint trace of perfume. Shadows danced behind the fortune teller, whose eyes gleamed with secret amusement.
"Two hundred dollars for a magic trick?"
Madame Mireille, the fortune teller, smiled slyly, her fingers tapping the table. "I sense your doubts. Allow me to prove my gift. If you are not awed by my magic, your money will be returned."
Madame Mireille traced a symbol in the air, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I can offer you a transformation—something unforgettable. You will become a woman, desired and adored, unable to resist the power I bestow. If not, your fee returns."
Daniel's skepticism flickered with a glimmer of curiosity. "Alright, let's see your magic, then." He tried to sound dismissive, but his words wavered with intrigue.
Daniel stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. He blinked in surprise as, one by one, feminine garments shimmered into existence: delicate pink lace panties on a velvet chair, a matching bra draped over a gilded screen, a sleek black pencil skirt, a crimson silk blouse, and glossy high heels arranged neatly on the floor. The lanterns flickered brighter, casting warm blushes of color across the clothes.
With every piece of clothing Daniel dons, a new sensation overtakes him—hips narrowing, waist slimming, skin softening under the silk and lace. His resistance falters as the spell’s seductive pull grows stronger. Each garment seems to mold his body further, until a beautiful, feminine figure stares back from the mirror, wide-eyed and unsteady. The final item appears: a shiny metal slave collar, its surface gleaming coldly beneath the lantern light.
Unable to resist, Daniel—now wholly transformed—reaches for the collar, feeling its weight settle around her neck. The click as it locks is final, unyielding. A tag dangles, engraved with the words “Property of Robert.” As she tugs at the collar in vain, a length of black leather leash materializes, coiling softly onto the floor.
The leash snaps taut, pulling her forward, heels clicking helplessly against the tile. Panic and despair fill her eyes as she is led through the doorway, powerless to resist. The figure at the corridor’s end waits, silent but commanding, as realization sinks in—escape is impossible. Tears stream down her cheeks, the echo of her cry swallowed by the darkness beyond.
