Being Serena Green

By Faith DaBrooke

PART I

“Someone needs to take that bitch down”

And that’s how it all started…or rather, that’s how it all ended.

A number of noted psychologists, sociologists, researchers and therapists have endeavored to understand the behavior of teenagers. Their reports are filled with wonderfully constructed words and phrases such as Aggression-Acceptance Shift or Para-Hierarchical Order Structure. The truth of the matter is that these people simply do not understand that teenagers are much like everyone else; nasty, uncooperative, competitive, over dramatic, angry, and sullen, but occasionally showing unexplained bouts of kindness, decency and selflessness. Musicians of the popular music variety have been able to readily understand this, and many of them have profited quite handsomely from it. Of course, musicians must be on to something, after all teenagers tend to listen to music like it was going out of style, while even the most studious of teenagers rarely peruse the peer-reviewed psychology journals. Music is important here, we’ll come back to it.            

One of these nasty, uncooperative, competitive, overly dramatic, angry and sullen teenagers was a fifteen year old boy called Simon. More accurately, his birth certificate called him Simon, other people mostly referred to him as Zero. For the life of him, Simon couldn’t remember why people called him Zero. The name had been around as long as he could remember, going back to the crib. Like six of the Seven Wonders of the World, the origin of the name Zero was lost in the sands of time. Despite the number of times he had changed schools, towns, addresses or personal styles, the name Zero somehow seemed to follow him like a an annoyingly persistent stray dog.

“Simon” called out his mother’s voice, at least she hadn’t hopped on the Zero bandwagon “C’mon, get out of bed, you’re gonna be late. Don’t make me come up there.”

“Err” is a fairly close approximation of the noise made by the heaped up figure in the bed. Two separate alarm clocks had once again awoken from their snooze functions and were filling the darkened mess of a room with their gloriously hideous mechanical chirping. With a deft swing of the arm, Simon managed to shut them both off again and sat up in bed. And it was thus that Monday got its first look at Simon Zero. The boy was pale, skinny, bleary eyed, with dyed-black hair thrown about across his head. There was a sound like a zipper as he craned his neck, cracking his vertebrae as he lumbered onto the floor. Arms like an octopus’s swept over the floor grabbing various bits of obligatorily black clothes that were quickly thrown on with the least amount of care possible.

After a quick stop at the bathroom to fulfill a few necessary bodily functions and minimal grooming requirements, Zero hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Good to see you up, finally” was his mom’s greeting. Sitting at the table, she wore a business suit and looked over a stack of papers “try and eat something, you don’t want to be starving your first day of school.”

“Erm” was the response from Zero, not actually calculated to show contempt for all things, but in this case calculations were not necessary, the full weight of the communication was lost on no one. He looked over the scene; mom and dad quickly crunching through a couple of bowls of cereal, occupied with their plans for the day, sitting in an impeccable suburban kitchen decorated with a bit of South-Western theme which included cactus curtains.

“C’mon” said dad, looking over his son and rolling his eyes ever so slightly “Let’s go, don’t want to be late. It’d be a shame to make a bad impression due to tardiness.” As he rose and dropped his dishes in the sink, he finished off “Your clothes and hair will make a bad enough impression anyway.”

“I hate this town” Zero was quick to let off, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door.

“You hate every town” replied dad as he grabbed his keys and made for the door “why should this one be any different?” And with that, they exited, but only after mom was certain that Zero had a granola bar breakfast in his hand.

 

School was in fact William Henry Harrison High School, a 19th Century monstrosity of brick with some rather grotesque battlements at the top. As the mini-van pulled away, Zero trudged up to the sidewalk and abandoned his granola bar in a nearby trashcan. Instead he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and with the solid click of his Zippo lit it. Enjoying the heady smell of the lighter fluid and relaxing as he pulled smoke into his lungs, Zero let his eyes stroll over his gathering compatriots, the fellow inmates of the school.

The vast majority were just normal kids; preppy some would call them, bedecked in their Abercrombie and Fitch or American Eagle clothes fresh from suburbia’s closest mall. Pop music drifted from car stereos across the parking lot, landing eventually on Zero’s ears where it filled him with self-righteous angst. So there it was, a sea of baseball caps, khaki, and pony tails. “Well” Zero said to himself “One more into the breach.”

“Shakespeare, isn’t it?”

There she was. Zero’s destiny, although he didn’t realize it yet. So her birth name had been Mary Elizabeth, it hadn’t stopped her from adopting the moniker Trajedi. She was a dream of femininity in black, accented with black, accessorized with black and topped off by skin so pale it might have been clear, although it was actually makeup. If Helen of Troy had the face that could launch a thousand ships, then Trajedi could probably have launched at least three thousand, including several hovercraft.

“Yeah, from Henry V”

“We few, we happy few, and all that?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m Trajedi” she eyed him coyly, taking in his skinny little person. “Give me a cigarette there, Twinsticks.”

“Okay” And he gave her a cigarette, carefully lighting it for her.

“A gentleman, I see” she quipped, puffing away like a worker on a quick break “You’re a freshman?”

“Indeed”

“What’s that like?”

“Boring”

“I’m a junior, and it doesn’t get any better. Believe me. So, what brings you here to William Henry Harrison High School?”

“I think the district assigns you a school based on where you live.”

“Really?” she spat out, throwing down the now finished cigarette to the curb and crushing it with an austere boot heel. “What’s your name?”

“Simon, but everyone calls me Zero”

“Zero, huh?” And with that she reached out and laid her palm onto his stomach, moving it slightly in a way that made Zero feel a bit uncomfortable, but in a good way.

He let his eyes fall on her, on her long dyed black hair, her beautiful face with its perfect, if somewhat heavy eyeliner, her black painted lips, her black chocker with a silver cross, her black tank top which showed just enough of her breasts to make any man stare, her black pleated skirt, fishnet stockings and huge black five inch heel stack boots with silver buckles up the length all the way to her knees. 

“That’s what they call me, yeah.” he sputtered, trying to be cool while at the same time trying not to look at her breasts. It was surprisingly easy, as her face and eyes were beautiful enough to stare at for hours.

“So, Zero, it’s the first day for you huh? They barely know you’re even supposed to be here. Wanna go off with me, we could find some cool stuff to do. Hmmm, as much cool stuff as there is to do in this shitty little burg.”

Inside of Zero’s brain a battle took place, a battle that his conscious never had a chance of winning. On the one hand, ditching school would no doubt get him in trouble; a bad reputation with the teachers, arguments with his parents, diminished spending money. On the other hand, there was Trajedi. Indeed, his conscious never stood a chance.

“Okay, what do you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas, c’mon, my car’s over here.”

After cruising about for a bit, they ended up at her house, in her bedroom, which was a situation that made all the neurons in Zero’s brain surge with excitement and confusion, although with slightly more of the latter. The room was amazing, at least for Zero. Silver aluminum foil covered the walls, a couple of oversized silver crosses hung on the walls, and the huge bed was laid out with black velvet covers. There was a stereo, stacks of CDs, a few scattered sketch books and art supplies, and a make up strewn dressing table with mirror.

“My dad has to move around a lot” Zero began, trying to ever so slightly inch up to her as they both reclined on the bed “So, I’m always going to new towns. It sucks.”      

“Yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life, in this room, actually.”

“Which do you think is better?”

“It’s something you can’t ever know right? You have your path, either you grew up in one place or moved around, there’s no way to compare. It’s like being a boy or a girl, you know what it’s like to be one or the other, you can never possibly know what it’s like to be the other.”

“I don’t know, I’d still like to know what it’s like to grow up in one place, to have roots. There are many times I’ve wished I could see things from the other side.”

“Hmmm…I could make you see things from the other side.”

“Really, how’s that?”

A look of unbridled joy leapt onto Trajedi’s face as she hopped up from the bed. “You wanna see things from the other side?”

“Yeah, sometimes”

“I’ll help you with that.” Her hands reached down and found his. Many thoughts of various natures roamed through Zero’s head. They stopped when he heard what she said next and he became incapable of rational thought.

“Stand up and take off your clothes” she said matter-of-factly with a wicked smile like a tigers creeping across her face. Zero, like any boy given the circumstances, could not help but comply. With a quickening haste, he tore off his clothes, while Trajedi stole away into the bathroom. The rushing of running water could be heard. A moment later, standing stark naked and feeling rather self-conscious, she strolled ever so casually into the room and licked her lips devilishly as she saw him in all his lack of glory.

“The bath’s almost ready….get in”

“Okay” he mouthed out like an automaton, not exactly sure what was transpiring, but willing to go along anyway.

There was hot, steaming water that scalded as she slid him into it. Embarrassment crept over him as he felt an erection slide into place, but Trajedi seemed to take little notice.

“Having fun yet, Zero” she laughed “I’ll bet this is a lot better than math class, huh?”

Following a whoosh of air, there was cream in her hand which she rubbed over his right leg as she held it above the water. With deft strokes, she quickly reduced it to a hairless state.

“What are you doing?” he asked, unsure of exactly what she was in fact doing. What was supposed to have been a hot love making session in a sensuous bath was turning into something entirely different all together.

“I’m shaving off all your hair, now be quiet, and let me work.” She bent down and there was a simple and delicate kiss after which Zero couldn’t help but shudder.

“Stay still, there” she whispered as she continued on his stomach, chest and arms, stopping gently to pat his growing erection tenderly. Then it was over, and the deed done, she let her hand glide smoothly over his supple skin. Reaching up from the frothy water, he gave her a kiss, letting his tongue go gently into her mouth. Reciprocating, her hand moved over his now silky skin, grasping his penis gently and caressing it as they melted together into a kiss that stopped both their hearts.

Pulling her nearer, he felt waves of pleasure rippling through his body as she continued to stroke him over and over until her hand was filled with his warm, white cum. Immediately she broke off from him and examined the contents of her hand, now covered with his ejaculation. One hand came up on his face, the other hand brought his cum right up to him.

“Eat it, eat it all for me.”

Though he felt a slight revulsion, he couldn’t help but obey and sucked up his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it as quickly as possible.

“You’ll get used to it, trust me.” she said as she stood up and walked out of the steamy bathroom looking back lustfully at him “believe me, you’ll get used to it. Now, c’mon, we’re not finished.”

Back in her bedroom, his now clean shaven body naked as the day of his birth, Zero couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, but slightly elated by the circumstances of the day. Strange, it was, but it was at least better than math class. As he huddled, shivering slightly and still a bit wet, he watched her as she made her way through her walk-in closet, a seriousness about her that he had not really witness before. With a fluid motion of sensuous curves, she came back from the closet with a couple of black things on hangars which she threw casually onto the bed. Perhaps she was going to slip into something more comfortable, although the garments looked a bit complicated; all straps and vinyl and buckles and ruffles.

Then she rifled through a draw on her dresser and threw down a black bra, some panties and pair of tights. Zero’s eyes flitted around as he watched her, unsure of exactly what was about to transpire. No doubt, witnessing the uneasiness in his face, Trajedi stepped up to him and gave him a long kiss on the cheek, her arms wrapped around him like parasites.

“Do you trust me?”

“Sure”

“Do you want to see what it’s like for the other side?”

“Okay…yeah, I do.” he sputtered out, feeling not so slightly overwhelmed by this new situation, which was probably the last thing he would have expected for a Monday morning.

“You trust me, then I’m going to make you into a new person. You can go home, go back to school if you want, or you can come with me. What do you want to do?”

Still not thinking clearly, Zero looked down at the specimen of femininity before him and didn’t take even a millisecond to think about his decision. “I’m with you.”

“Good” her faced seemed to light up in whole new ways “put these on, I’ll be right back.” And with that she handed him a pair of blood red lace panties and darted out of the room. Zero took the little swatch of fabric and examined it as he stood alone naked in a strange, yet excitingly hot, girl’s room. They were barely there, these panties. That is, they consisted of a triangle of fabric joined by three sparse strings. Various things danced through his mind, most of them wondering what exactly he was getting himself into. But, as Trajedi walked back into the room, his doubts vanished instantly. Whatever it was he was getting himself into, he was getting into it with Trajedi, and that was good enough.

“Put them on already” she snapped, brandishing a roll of silvery grayish duct tape like a dangerous weapon. “Okay, fine, hold on then.”

She was on him like a doctor, or more appropriately, like an alien about to probe someone. With one hand, she grabbed his testicles, rotated them around playfully for a second and then pushed them up into his body cavity. Despite his earlier adventure, Zero felt excitement creeping back up into his nether regions.

“Down, boy” was her only response and she pushed his penis back between his leg and held it firmly in place. There was a ripping sound as she pulled off some tape and tore it with her teeth, her eyes constricting as she took care of a difficult, if not pleasurable job. There was a flurry of motion and after a moment, Zero looked down to see his penis gone, replaced by a flat, smooth, silver area, which he couldn’t help but feel looked quite similar to a vulva.

“Now, put these on, little boy.” She handed him the panties and he complied, pulling them over his now feminine appearing crotch. His hand ran over the area, and it was smooth as any girls.

“That’ll keep you in place” she smiled evilly, patting the area affectionately before she applied some more tape to his chest; pulling his loose fat together and lifting it up until it appeared as though he had genuine cleavage.

“Next, in your little adventure is this…” she held out a black bra for him, its cups adorned with lace and featuring a little ribbon bow in between. Feeling ever so slightly incredibly silly, Zero complied, and checked himself out in the mirror. He couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of joy looking down at his chest and seeing what looked like breasts. Trajedi darted back in the room, with a couple of wads of toilet paper in each hand.

“Just like a junior high slut” she laughed, stuffing his bra until the cups filled out, creating a delicately natural curve.

“So, what are we doing, exactly?” Zero coughed out, wondering if he perhaps should have been in math class after all.

“You are doing exactly what I tell you to do, and I am turning you into a new person. So, be quiet, and just do what I say”

He bit his lip and thought about running. Then his eyes looked over her perfect body again, her perfect body so well accentuated by the drooping pleated skirt that swayed all around as she moved. His eyes focused on her breasts, delicately held in placed by her tank top, but still bouncing ever so slightly as she ran over to the bed and held out a selection for him. It was at this point that he really wanted to run, but felt himself stay for some unknown reason.

“You’re pretty small, so you should probably fit…quite well, we’ll have to see.”

The garment she held out was absolutely amazing and Zero couldn’t help but want to see Trajedi’s fabulous body filling it out. That apparently wasn’t to be, instead, it was to be his pale little body filling it out. It was jet black, so black it was shining in the morning sun like water. And it was made out of rubber, vinyl, whatever. At least the top part was, the bottom, the skirt, seemed to be made out of layers upon layers of black silk and lace, so much that they boomed out from the top like a ballerina’s tutu. With quick skill, Trajedi untied the corset and undid the buckles which held the straps in place.

Zero looked over the dress one last time before he finally sighed and stepped into it, accepting his fate. The smooth layers of the skirt felt cold and seductive against his skin, and as he lifted his arms through the thick black straps, he felt the dress slip into place, hugging his body.

“Breathe, breathe right now, ‘cause you won’t be able to in a minute” she advised as she went to work, first lacing up the back, row by row as Zero felt the vinyl corset pull around him ever tighter. With a gasp, he breathed out and let her tie up the last of the eyelets and click the buckled the thick straps around his back. Breathing was indeed nearly impossible, but Zero straightened his back and finally stood up perfectly straight, as his parents had often advised him. His hands felt the cool vinyl and silk which now surrounded him and he took a few steps to orient himself.

“This all ties up in the back, how am I supposed to get out of it?”

“You’re not, not till I let you.” She licked her lips again “You look hot, but you’re gonna look a lot hotter soon.”

“And what’s the point of this, again?”

“You are gonna see what it’s like to be a girl. Just like you said, you wanted to see things from the other side, and now you will.”

“Wait, wait, wait. This isn’t what I meant.” Zero moved over to the bed and reached out for his clothes, but found them quickly snatched out of his hands. With a whoosh, they went out the window and Trajedi saddled up to him, her hands moving over his now slimmed waste. There was a slight breath let out as he felt her hands move over his dress.

“You can’t leave now. You’re mine until I decide to let you go.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“No, but it’s fun.”

“Not for me”

“You’ll have fun soon enough.” And she kissed him as he let his worries slip away ever again. “You need your fishnets.”

And there they were, a pair of wide fishnet stockings.

“Sit down, I’ll put them on you.”

Zero sat down on the bed, feeling the layers of silky fabric come across his legs. Forcefully, Trajedi lifted his legs up, splaying him back on the bed, her eyes stopping for a moment to look up at his perfect little blood red panties right between his legs. Over his feet, calves and thighs slide the fishnets, her hands feeling the contours of his legs as she moved ever farther up them. As he lay back on the bed, Trajedi placed his right foot into a pair of gleaming black Mary Janes. After his left foot was attired as well, Trajedi grabbed Zero’s hand and helped him up.

A bit wobbly, Zero looked down at his shoes. They were black, with straps over his foot and around his ankle. Dangerous looking Jolly Rodgers stared back at him from each toe. Attempting to step forward, Zero felt himself slip into Trajedi’s arms.

“They’re five inch heels, but you’ll get used to ‘em.”

“I’m not sure if I want to get used to them.”

“Oh, you’re so totally hot though.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Now sit down, we still need to do your makeup.”

“Make up?”

“Of course, in case you didn’t notice, I’m turning you into a little hottie. You do want to be my little hottie, don’t you?”

“Possibly”

“No, possibly, you’re gonna be my little hottie and you’re gonna love it, Zero.”

Her hand grabbed his now silk covered ass and squeezed a slight bit. There was excitement with this girl, Zero realized, but what sort of excitement, he wasn’t quite sure.

A moment later he found himself seated in front of her, with her straddling his lap, her skirt landing delicately over his own. His eyes met her baby blues and his lips reached out to hers. Her arms draped over his shoulders as she kissed him, their tongues rolling over each other passionately. Then her hands slipped down, playfully squeezed his breast pads and then reached over to the table for a compact.

Cold, wet makeup dabbed onto his skin and he watched her face as her expression became one of seriousness and duty. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she smoothed a pale foundation over his face until his complexion became like that of a China Doll. Then, liquid eyeliner traced over his eyes, again and again until a thick layer of sexy black surrounded his eyes. A quick brush put some mascara on his lashes and he felt them tug as the little wand curled up. Next some dark burgundy for his lips and he tasted the waxy flavor as she patiently and, with manner like a surgeon, painted his face. And then it was done.

Disappearing for a moment, Trajedi returned and took her place on Zero’s lap again. Beneath the layers of the dress, the panties and the tape, Zero felt a slight stirring, but he was far too bound to do anything about it. There were some scissors, some brushing, and some gel and after a few minutes she transformed his shaggy boy hair into a sexy little stylish crop hairdo.

“Get up, Zero, go and see, there’s a full length mirror in the bathroom.”

Each step carefully taken on immaculate five in heels, Zero made his way slowly and cautiously to the bathroom. With each step he wondered what had become of his Monday, of his new start in a new town, of his life. Sure, it was fun to hang out with the hot upperclassman, but this was just strange. Yes, the bathtub had been nice, but the clothes were bit much. New sensations surged through him; the cinched waist which made him walk a straight back so he could breathe, the swooshing of the fabric around his legs, the feeling of string every time his legs touched each other, the binding on his ankles, the weight on his chest, the tightness of his bra, of the dress, of the shoes.

And then he saw it.

In the mirror he saw himself for the first time really. A tall thin girl with a body like a model, dressed in the hotness, tightest clothes, the sexy black dress falling over the hips now accentuated by the ultra constricting corset bodice. Long, perfect legs that came out just beneath his billowing skirt to the shining black shoes with their high stiletto heels. And the face, the perfectly made up pale face with thick lashes, pouting burgundy lips and eyes that kill. From side to side he moved, taking in every angle, checking out his ass, his breasts, his legs, his waist, his hips, his face.

“See, what did I tell you, of course you’d like it.”

Full burgundy lips returned Trajedi’s smile. Of course, he would never tell her, he could never tell her, but this had always been his fantasy, there was nothing more in the world he wanted than this. In his style, in his tight little dress, so tight he could barely breathe, his heart sang.

“C’mon, let’s go show you off, you little hottie.”

PART II

As the car sped past strip mall after strip mall, Zero felt himself growing more and more comfortable in his tight little black dress. His fingers reached down and he played absent mindedly with the strings of his fishnets. It was getting to the point where be barely noticed any of the clothes at all, but was reminded every time he glanced in the side view mirror and saw his own reflection looking back it him. The circumstances leading up to the fact that he now found himself in the passenger seat of a beautiful girl’s car, speeding through a strange town, bedecked in a tulle and vinyl dress and five inch spike Mary Janes were still rather confusing to Zero. They were confusing in general, and would have baffled all but the most diligent of documentary film makers.

There had been on Earth, that morning, a lost little boy named Simon; an all too typical American suburban teenager; typical specifically in the fact that he saw himself as anything but typical. He was short, skinny, with pallid skin and shaggy black hair badly in need of some severe grooming. For Simon, whose family moved around all too frequently, friends were hard to come by, the attention of girls even harder to come by. Despite the differing names and locations of the schools, in each and every one it was all the same; if anyone noticed Simon at all it was because they took the time to shove him into the wall or call him a fag. It wasn’t that he envied the popular kids or wanted to be like them and it wasn’t the he wanted to be left alone. If left in a room with a stack of blank paper and a well-sharpened #2 pencil, Simon probably couldn’t have even written a paragraph about what he really wanted. Like most people, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. All he had was a vague notion of wanting to get away, from school, from his peers, from his family, from himself. What did Simon want? Something, something better was really all he wanted.

In Trajedi, it kept flitting through his heavily distracted mind, he had perhaps found something better. Sure, she seemed to have a strange penchant for turning him into a living Barbie Doll, but that wasn’t so bad. At least, he figured, she did have a huge closet full of the coolest clothes. If you were going to be coerced into a dress and makeup, if you were going to have someone perform temporary surgery on you with a roll of duct tape, then there really wasn’t anyone better than Trajedi to do it. She was a teen dream, yes, but it wasn’t exactly a pleasant dream. Trajedi wasn’t quite a nightmare, but she came close. In a way she resembled fire; beautiful, helpful, but also quite dangerous. In the back of his mind somewhere, Simon grasped this, but for many reasons it kept to the back of his mind, never quite forming fully into his consciousness. Like most of his thoughts that Monday it remained foggy, dispersed and inarticulate.

Her highly lined eyes, dancing between Zero and the road, Trajedi beamed out a wicked smile; it seemed, on this Monday, to be the only expression her face was capable of making.

“What are you going to do, Zero?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean? What are you gonna do about the rest of your life? Here in this town?”

“I’m not really sure. I don’t know. Stay here until the next school, whatever.”

A sharpened nail on a well formed hand came off the steering wheel and flew around Trajedi’s head gesturing and pointing to the jungle of strip malls, endless parking lots punctuated with convenience stores, traffic lights, power lines, and well manicured residential subdivisions replete with carbon copy houses. “Look around at this place, Zero, look at it. This is our life, this is what it is. Giant corporate stores, little goofy corporate restaurants with ‘whacky’ stuff nailed to the walls, little subdivisions with names like ‘Meadow Knoll’ or ‘River Creek’ or ‘Forrest Woods.’ This is it.”

“What do you think is everywhere else?” temporarily distracted by the black enveloping corset around him that shaped his body into a perfect hourglass and gave him what appeared to be some rather nice breasts atop his chest, Zero looked out onto the suburban wasteland before him. “Every town everywhere is just like this. Every place, this is it. Every school’s the same, with the same people, the same jerks, the same assholes. This is the world.”

“It doesn’t have to be. This town, this school, they’re gonna be different this time.”

Simon ran his hand down the side of his thigh and felt the duck tape crinkle as he pressed his legs together in what he felt was a highly feminine position. “This town already is different.”

“The choice is yours, Zero. Do you always want to be Zero?”

“It’s what I am, a fitting name, right? Zero.”

“Tomorrow you’re going to go to school, and you’re gonna be your normal loser self, another little freshman in baggy black clothes, headphones stuck on your ears, reading some stupid book about Nazis and getting kicked around by everyone else in that school.”

“I couldn’t have been that big a loser if you came up to me. Unless you’re an even bigger loser than I am.” Immediately he felt slightly bad for saying that, but then realized that she probably didn’t feel bad about what she had said, so he forgot about feeling bad and let himself get angry.

“I came up to save you. I’m your savior and you’re gonna fucking thank me in a bit.”

“What are you saving me from?”

“I’m saving you from the life you were living. Or weren’t living at all. Open the glove box, get me a cigarette.”

He obeyed, although he still found himself annoyed with her. Throughout the entire day she had been rather demanding. Feeling for his breath, he reached down to the glove box and let the corset pinch him in the waist. There were cigarettes and a lighter, a cheap neon green plastic affair. The glove box closed, Zero pulled a cigarette out for himself, only to realize they were tiny little slims. After it was lit, he handed on to her and she lit it carefully while continuing to operate the car impeccably; a talent learned from experience.

“Stole these cigarettes from my mom” she said, letting the long, thin, white stick dangle from her black painted lips. Looking at the cigarette held delicately between his fingers, Zero couldn’t help feeling ever so slightly silly smoking a slim, but he felt his clothes; a black corset dress with a flair skirt of fine silky fabric, the fishnet on his long legs, the heels with their strap digging slightly into his ankle and he wasn’t sure if he should feel less silly with a lady’s slim, or more silly for the entire outfit. He took a few drags and felt better and saw the little patch of deep crimson which stained the filter. Lipstick he thought, my lipstick.

“You don’t realize this Zero, but I can change your life.”

“Into what?”

“Into something better, that’s what. Do you want to be stuck as another faceless, nameless loser at the bottom of the social ladder, or do you want to be something better? I can make you something better, I can make you hot, beautiful, I can make people want you, want to be with you, want to be talk to you, I can make people want you.” Her hand reached out and caressed his leg, her fingertips brushed his thigh, moved up his inner thigh and Zero felt an involuntary shudder surge through his body. “You like it when I touch you…don’t you? I can make everyone want to touch you.”

Thoughts flew in and out of Zero’s mind at breakneck speed; he told himself himself to run away, he told himself that this girl was dangerous, he told himself that he was getting in over his head and needed to forget about Trajedi, leave her forever and never look back. His eyes closed and he felt his eyelashes, heavily laden with mascara, felt her hand move over him. Curiosity suddenly leaped into his head, bringing with it desire and need. A part of him knew what she was planning and a part of him wanted nothing more than to go along with it. It would be better, it would be amazing. For once, Simon, the useless loser could be transformed into something like Trajedi, something beautiful and amazing, something powerful. Simon wanted all of these things, and he wanted Trajedi in a way that he had never wanted anything before. He needed her and at that moment felt like she could make him complete.

“Do you want me?” she asked in a way that suggested that she already knew the answer. “Because you can have me, you can have anything, you can have anyone, you just have to do what I tell you to.”

“Yes” was his only reply, under his breath, his eyes caught hers and she pursed her lips, letting out a stream of smoke that went right into his face. For a moment he just breathed her in, watched her smoke, watched her drive, watched her as she brought down the now tiny filament of the cigarette to his arm and brushed him with the bright red cherry. Waves of pain racked through, filling him with the cold and enlightening sensation of surging adrenaline. After a moment she let off and threw the cigarette out the window. Before Zero could notice, the car had come to a complete stop.

“Do you want me to transform you?” And by then, it seemed as though she knew the answer to that question as well.

“Yes.”

“The choice is yours, you can go home as Zero, the sad little loser, you can go to school tomorrow and get beat up, get ignored, and live that life to its shitty fulfillment, or you can come with me, follow me and let me make you into something beautiful, you can beautiful just like me, you can turn their heads, you can make them love you. You can control them with one simple stroke of your hand.” Then to demonstrate she leaned over and stroked a single finger from his ankle up to his skirt, then under it, to the smooth contour now between his legs. Feeling her finger ride along the blood red silk between his legs he knew what his choice would be.

Moving back to her seat, she unbuckled and shut the car off. Zero wondered what would become of Simon; that awkward geeky boy. With a half-quiver, he let out a breath and realized that Simon was dead. Simon had died that morning when Trajedi had first spoken to him. Simon had drowned in Trajedi’s pale blue eyes, in her soft white skin and her supple, perfect body. What had been born out of Simon’s demise was still something of a mystery, but whatever became of Zero, he was sure it would be better. Anything would be better than living life one more day as that horrid loser Simon. It would just have to be.

Taking his eyes off of Trajedi for the first time he could remember, he saw where they were. It was odd, definitely odd for her to bring him here, but then again, everything was odd, and Zero realized, for the first time, that nothing was going to be normal ever again.

“So, your final choice, this is your choice, it’s all up to you. Do you want to come with me, become the beautiful, sexy creature I know you are, or do you want to go home and be all sullen and useless?”

“I’m with you, I’m totally with you.”

“Good lets go in.”

As they walked up, Simon became aware again of the tightly tied laces up his back, and the serious straps buckled over the laces. Through his was quite sexy, the dress was like a straight jacked and he was chained into it like a prison cell. Then he thought about his clothes, his boy clothes that Trajedi had so carefully gathered up off her lawn, only to throw them out of the window the car as they drove through town. Gone, his boy’s clothes were gone now. Following her in, his eyes glued to her, watching her ass sway gently under the short black pleated skirt, he reached back and felt the laces and straps holding him in.

So then it hit him, it really wasn’t his choice after all.

Cities are never really planned. In fact most of the older cities, and hence the larger cities, came about long before there ever even existed such jobs as Municipal Planner. People just sort of build. And when enough people build and move in, eventually you have a city. A common problem for modern urban planners and designers is the fact that many cities and, their streets, were simply not built with cars in mind. This is obvious, because when many cities were springing up like concrete mushrooms, cars had not yet been invented.

Suburbia is slightly different. Not only was it planned, it was planned with cars in mind. If you view a suburb from the air the most striking features are undoubtedly the roads and parking lots. From the air, suburbia is not a particularly interesting thing to view. Not surprisingly, it’s not particularly interesting to view from the ground either. Parking lots and roads still tend to be the main geographic feature. That’s where Zero and Trajedi found themselves; in a parking lot. The parking lot of a mall, after it, it was suburbia, land of the mall.

“What are we doing at the mall? We’re not going in are we?” Simon asked, feeling ever so slightly embarrassed about being in public. His hands pulled down on his dress, as if he could will it to be longer so it could cover a bit more of his legs.

“Of course we’re going in, you have to go in to shop…what are you, gonna shop online for the rest of your life?”

“Fine, but we should be quick.”

Trajedi stopped, turned around and grabbed hold of both of Simon’s smoothly shaved and hairless wrists. The wicked smile that owned her face shined on him, sending his skittishness away.

“Do you have something better to do? Honestly, because if you do, we’ll do it.”

There was one clear thing that Simon wanted to do with Trajedi, but for several reasons he chose not to mention it. Instead, there was a half-hearted shrug as she turned and went inside. Simon felt a deeply satisfying feeling as he heard his high heeled shoes, complete with their shiny white-on-black skulls, click and clack on the pavement as he followed her. Fearing the worst, but elated by hope for the best, he went forward, like a sheep silently to the slaughter.

It was slightly impossible that anyone would recognize Zero. First of all, he was new in town and hence went unrecognized. Secondly, he wasn’t Zero, or even Simon any longer. Instead, the people, the kind of people who tend to be a shopping mall in the early afternoon, saw only two rather fiendishly cute young girls strolling through the common areas. One a diminutive but highly hot raven haired goddess in a little black pleated skirt and matching tank top, the other slightly taller with cropped spiky hair and a gloriously revealing dress with a ultra cinching vinyl corset and beautifully billowing tulle and silk skirt. Had anyone even known Simon before, they would have never seen him, they’d have been far too distracted by the striking young woman who had replaced him.

In all, Simon couldn’t have been more pleased. It was all too much; the feeling of the clothes around his body; the five inch heels, the fishnets, the all-consuming dress, the pleased looks he saw from the people that he passed. Little did anyone realize, but Simon had always wanted to be beautiful. Of course no one knew what Simon really wanted. To them, he was just Zero, another depressed, useless angsty teenager with no discernable talents, except for a slight ability to play the bass guitar. Even Zero’s closest confidants, had he have had any, would’ve never guessed his inward desires.

Of course, regardless of the joy he was experiencing, there were still doubts.

“What are we doing at the mall, by the way” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Showing off your hotness” was the obvious response “I want you to see how people react to you. Look around, watch their eyes, look at them looking at you. Do you see how you turn them, do you see how your beauty brings a little bit of joy into their pointless lives?”

Zero could feel it, he could see them, he could see the half-smiles they let come over their faces as he passed. Doing his best to imitate a female countenance, he tried to let his hips sway, tried to be as graceful as possible. He let the femininity roll over him in waves. In the shop windows he could see the mannequins, the model of plastic and rebar womanhood displaying their clothes in elegant poses. Every dress, every skirt and top, ever ensemble called out to him. He wanted every one, wanted to try them on, to feel them next to his skin, he wanted to become those models for just one instant. He felt magnificent, he felt grand, for just a moment he could believe that he was a real woman.

“Well, do you want to go shopping?”

“What, at the mall? Hell no, what do you take me for, a dead eyed suburbanite?”

The ever so short trip to the mall had left Zero’s heart fluttering. It had filled his body with the cool surge of adrenaline. There was definitely something to being a girl, he was quick to realize; the curious and almost degenerate stares from various men, the attention, the clothes, the look, the style, the grace of it all. Truly there was power to be found in it. Never before in his life had Zero felt that power, felt that rush. He could close his eyes and remember the clacking of his heels on the tile, barely keeping up with his ever increasing heart beat. Glory was his for those moments.

Back in Trajedi’s room, he found himself sitting on her bed, his hands stroking over his skirt, rumpled over his fishnet covered legs. Between them a gentle throb accentuated the milky feeling in his stomach; half excitement, half worry, but altogether indescribable. Next to him, Trajedi sat, brushing her hands gently through his hair. Shivers danced down his spine.

“Do you want to be my girl?” she asked, her heavy breath highlighting every last syllable.

Did he want to be Trajedi’s girl, that was the operative question of the day. The clock was sliding past three p.m., and Zero knew he was due home soon. Yet he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to get up and leave Trajedi, didn’t want to take off his wondrous dress, didn’t even want to exhale. In the mirror above her vanity, Zero could see himself, could see what he had become. There was a beautiful woman sitting on the bed. He was in love with himself, in love with what he had become, he didn’t want to lose that person, didn’t want to go back to being nothing again.

Trajedi’s hand slid down his corset and gripped his side. With a simple move, Zero reached over and grabbed her, then let his crimson painted lips come toward hers. For a moment they came together, two beautiful women brought together as one, their hands in a delicate dance, slithering over each other’s bodies. As he moved his hands over Trajedi, Zero felt her curves, supple and smooth and felt something strange, something he couldn’t quite explain. He felt envious. For a moment, he both wanted her and wanted to be her. Something inside him told him that both were possible.

“You want me, don’t you?” she whispered, her mouth just barely not touching his ear. Her tongue graced his ear, moving up and down as he closed his eyes and simply collapsed.

“Yes, yes I want you.”

“You can have me, you know, you can have me, I can be yours” her hands moved up his fishnet covered legs, up to his panties, caressing the space between his legs, stroking and grinding into him.

“Yes…let’s….”

“But you have to do what I want, if you want to have me…” her right hand moved over his duct-tape bound sensitives, while her left hand ran wildly through his now femininely cropped hair.

“I’ll do whatever you want….whatever you want….”

“You’ll  be mine, be my slave….be my play thing?” Trajedi skillfully brought her tongue down to his neck, licking and biting and leaving a trail of reflective saliva down his neck, onto his chest and right across his artificially created heaving cleavage.

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life….please, yes…”

With a fluid motion, her hand slid over his breasts down to his stomach and squeezed tightly.

“Then be mine” she said softly and sweetly “do me one favor, and I’ll let you have my body, let you do whatever you want with it, let you fuck me hard right here on this bed if you want.”

“What do I have to do?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. A great part of his being knew what the favor was and wanted nothing more than to fulfill her wish and to make this strange new part of life a reality. Other parts of him, the more rational parts of him, could see something dangerous, could see something complicated and recognized the realistic implications of what she was going to ask. But he could not resist, he could no more resist than he could fling a mountain into the sea with his mind.

“Zero, I want you to get up early tomorrow morning”

“Yes”

“And come to my house before school.”

“Uh-huh”

“And I’ll pick out your clothes for you” with a simple yet complex move she maneuvered herself on to his lap and threw him back down onto the bed, laying on top of him and letting her mouth stop mere millimeters from his own. He could feel her warm breath, he could feel her weight, he could feel the softness of her breasts and the drape of her skirt, he could feel her heartbeat quickening.

“Anything…”

“You’ll wear what I want you to when you go to school for the first time tomorrow, you’ll be someone new, someone special, you’ll be who I want you to be”

“Uhhh” was his response, but it was affirmative.

“You’ll be something brand new and exciting. No more Zero for you, no more Simone, you’ll be the beautiful young voluptuous, curvaceous, intriguing, alluring girl called Serena.

“Serena?”

“Yes” her hand stroked his cheek, and touched his ruby lips. “You’re going to be Serena. You’ll be admired and beautiful…don’t you want to be beautiful?”

“I do” and he did. Like nothing else he had ever wanted, he wanted to be beautiful, to break away from the awkward teenage boy he was. He wanted to be beautiful because it would better and because it would please Trajedi like nothing else.

“So tomorrow you’ll come to school and be Serena. No one there has even met you yet, they won’t know who you are, as far as they’ll be concerned, you’ll Serena because you always were. Zero, that sad little boy will be gone and Serena, the totally amazing woman will take his place.”

Sitting up, she let her hands fall to his hips where they moved elegantly under his ruffled skirt, forcefully kneading between his legs.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she asked, pressing her hand right between his legs, forcing it rhythmically into him, pounding him on the spot where duct tape held him in and blood red panties covered him. “You wanna be fucked don’t you?”

“Oh…hell yes”

“Cause you can sleep with me, I’ll do you all night, however you want, you just have to be Serena, Serena is who I want. I want to lie here naked with Serena all curled up and dirty, all sweaty and sticky, I want you inside me and me inside you until we can’t take it anymore…isn’t that what you want too?”

And he couldn’t even speak, he just let out a slight moan and grabbed her with both hands pulling her back down on top of him. With a free hand he moved down her back, across her smooth and perfect ass, sliding his hand over her panties and between her legs and she did the same to him; right between his fishnet covered legs, covered in layers of tulle and silk.

“Do this for me, Serena, and everything will be perfect”

“I’ll do anything for you, Trajedi”

“Yes, you will.”

Together they embraced, wildly and passionately. Her hair fell down into his painted face, her mouth kissed and bit along his neck, his hands moved between her legs, finding themselves inside as she moaned sweetly and softly. Zero struggled to keep his breath, feeling the corset of his dress, his prison, bound around him tightly, felt the heavy weight of his shoes and he wrapped his legs around her body. Her hands were everywhere, on his breasts, on his face, on his legs, her tongue melted into his and together they ground into the bed, each letting out little wisps of sound, tiny outpourings of emotion and pleasure. Though neither cared, they both smeared their makeup beyond repair.

Perhaps there was a setting sun, perhaps the clouds were majestic, perhaps the birds were flying about or something. It really doesn’t matter, because none of it mattered to Zero. A scuffling sound was all that he heard. All that he saw were he his own two big feet plodding along slowly down the sidewalk. In the distance children were probably playing. Really it was all just scenery, just a big backdrop.

Moving slowly, incredibly slowly down the side walk was an awkward, annoying, sullen little teenage boy. For his first day of school, it had been highly interesting, although for a first day of school, it had had relatively little actual school involved. That is not to say that Zero hadn’t learned anything. Most importantly, he had learned that he was in love. Whether he was in love with Trajedi, that most remarkable of girls, or whether he was in love with Serena, Trajedi’s creation, was still unknown.

What was known, was that Zero, call him Simon if you insist, had seen the other side, seen what it was like to be someone else. For better or worse, he had found fulfillment, he had found joy in being someone else, even if it meant letting himself be molded by Trajedi. As attractive and exciting as he knew her to be, there was a great deal of fear that smothered him when he let his mind drift toward thoughts of Trajedi. The notion of why, exactly, she had wanted to change him, was something that bothered Zero to the core of his being. Her motivation seemed nonexistent, and he couldn’t help but feel that there was something darker going on, something elusive.

It was the clothes that brought him down. As he walked home, he felt the clothes hang loosely on his frame; just ordinary boy’s clothes which had been procured from Trajedi’s dad’s dresser. They were hideously boring clothes. Gone were the sensations of the dress, the tights, the high heels. Instead they were replaced with a dull sense of coverage, that feeling of clothing that does no more than clothe. Zero longed to feel his body imprisoned tightly again. He longed to feel the gentle brush of a skirt on his bare legs.

No matter what, he was determined that it would happen again. Tomorrow, he would wake early, go to Trajedi’s house and let her dress him, dress him in the finest of restricting, pulling, aching clothes. He would let her bury Zero again. The dull boy was going to be burnt and buried, and like a Phoenix, something new would rise from the ashes. It was terrible to feel ugly again, after have felt so beautiful. It was terrible to have to endure being a boy, a useless, senseless boy.

It didn’t matter anymore. Just as Zero had consumed Simon, had taken over Simon, just as everyone had forgotten Simon and remembered Zero, so would Serena consume Zero. Zero was dead. Serena had been born.

As Serena walked home, draped in baggy, drab, boring clothes, she felt her inner beauty shine forth, felt her hips begin to sway in a feminine manner, felt her spirit and soul come alive for the first time. Serena licked her lips and smiled and let one peaceful and triumphant thought come into her mind. “This town” she realized “Is definitely going to be different, this time, they are all going to love me.”

 

since 05/30/05