KK's Quickies: Feisty Featherweight to Ravishing Ring Girl (4/4)

This little story is a bit special, because it's being released in collaboration with one of the best TG fiction writers out there, DS1000! Using the same initial idea, we each came up with our own illustrated mini-tale. If you want to see their awesome alternate version, go to https://www.patreon.com/ds1000 or https://www.deviantart.com/ds1000

----------------------------------------------------------------------

No time was wasted booking Benny in for an appointment with a plastic surgeon who asked no questions, fixing his nose and shaving it down to a feminine little ski-slope before repairing the fractured cheekbone, making its twin higher and more defined to match the new shape. Benny didn’t know why shaping and plumping his lips with collagen had been deemed necessary, but all the gauze in his mouth left him more or less unable to complain for the next several days.

While Benny recovered from his surgeries, Ross had one of his air headed girlfriends come in to teach the hapless young man the ins and outs of presenting himself as a pretty young woman!

“Patrick told me everything,” the girl gushed. “It’s so amazing that you really wanted to be a woman all this time, after acting so tough and manly all those years! And I’m so glad you felt like you could confide in him even though you used to be rivals in the ring! Don’t worry, girlfriend, we’re going to make up for all that lost time. You’re going to be drop dead gorgeous when I’m through with you!”

When Benny complained to Ross after the first torturous session with high heels and makeup application, his complaints fell on deaf ears.

“Look, MacDonald, the more feminine you appear to be, the better for your disguise,” Ross snapped. “If you mess up and give yourself away, you’re not only putting your life in danger, but mine, too, for helping you. So you’d damn well better be as girly as she tells you to be, got it?”

And as it turned out, that would be extremely girly. Ross’s girlfriend was delighted to have a blank canvass to work on, especially one with a pretty face, long, lean legs, and a waist perfectly capable of pulling off a size zero Gucci dress. She took any signs of reluctance or embarrassment as the last vestiges of Benny’s misplaced male ego, which it was her mission to stamp out with luxurious lingerie, manicures, plucking, stiletto heels and short skirts, letting his “true” feminine persona shine through.

Increasingly frustrated, but unable to go against her wishes without jeopardizing his transsexual cover story, the former featherweight champ found himself undergoing training of a whole new variety, spending countless hours learning to blend his eye shadow, apply his lipstick, style his hair, shave his legs, match his lingerie, sit in a skirt and swish his hips in high heels. Ross took no small delight in watching his former rival mince back and forth in three-inch stilettos and learn to carry a purse in the crook of his arm, constantly badgering Benny to act more lady-like to ensure his disguise was air-tight.

When he was finally deemed passable, Ross’s girlfriend took him to a public salon for the works: a humiliating and painful leg-waxing session, brow plucking to shape his eyebrows into dainty, feminine arches, ear piercing that left him with sparkly silver studs in both ears, a manicure, pedicure, full makeup, and even hair extensions. Benny spent the whole process in a state of utter terror, certain he was moments away from being caught out as a man, but by the time they were finished, he realized there was absolutely no chance of that.

“Oh, my God!” Ross’s girlfriend squealed when she saw the finished result. “You look amazing! Girlfriend, you are way too hot to go by ‘Benny’ anymore.”

As he looked in the mirror, Benny was forced to agree. His time spent in recovery had sapped away anything left of his masculine muscles, leaving him with smooth, slender arms and legs, while the hormone problem had subtly changed the shape of his body, giving him curved hips, a tiny waist, and budding breasts--that, when stuffed into a padded push-up bra, gave him undeniable cleavage! His stylish purple blouse took advantage of that fact with its v-cut neckline, and paired with a tight black miniskirt and high heels to show off his freshly-waxed legs, Benny had the kind of body he’d once lusted over as a guy.

Meanwhile, his new hair extensions fell in a glossy, dark brown cascade down his shoulders, framing a beautiful face with a cute little ski-slope nose and puffy, collagen-enhanced lips. His makeup was perfect: smoky, sexy eyes rimmed by long, mascara-laden lashes, cheekbones accented with well-placed highlights, and his pouty lips now a tempting pink portal slathered with shiny gloss. He was utterly gorgeous, and the pretty picture was only enhanced by his sparkly silver earrings and long, pale pink nails.

When Ross’s girlfriend took Benny home and presented him as the new-and-improved “Bella”, Benny’s former rival was stunned speechless. Usually he had a smart remark for every occasion, but seeing the final result of all of the work that had gone into feminizing Benny left him momentarily without words. Worse, Benny recognized the look in his eye as Ross surveyed his new, feminine appearance: desire. Humiliated, Benny couldn’t keep eye contact, instead directing his gaze towards the floor through his long, fluttering black lashes.

Once they were alone, Ross, still ogling him up and down, told Benny that he planned to set him up in a small apartment of his own. “It’s obvious you’re passable as a woman, now,” Ross said. “So you’ll have a place of your own, and a job, too. I’ve been supporting you out of the goodness of my heart long enough.”

Benny gritted his whitened teeth, knowing full well that Ross had loved every minute of Benny’s forced journey into femininity. Despite that, Ross had saved his life. Benny was almost ready to accept his rival’s offer, and even swallow his pride to thank him for all his help… That is, until he pulled a skimpy red bikini out and handed it to him.

“What the hell is this?” Benny demanded, but he already knew, deep down inside, what was coming next. He recognized the “uniform” Ross had all of his ring girls wear when they strutted their stuff in between rounds.

“I told you it’s time you earned your keep, Bella,” Ross said cruelly, emphasizing Benny’s new feminine moniker. “Are you going to accept my generosity or not?”

Benny’s face flushed as he imagined himself prancing around the ring in stiletto heels and a bikini, waving his little number sign and flaunting his nearly-naked body for the testosterone-charged crowd. The last vestige of his male pride and anger flared up. Benny told Ross exactly where he could stick his offer, and was nearly out the door before his rival stopped him.

“Let me rephrase it for you,” Ross said, grabbing Benny by his slender wrist and twisting him around. “You can either be one of my ring girls, or I can tell the mobsters exactly where you are. And I can only imagine how much fun they’d have with you looking like this.”

All the color drained from Benny’s made-up face as he considered that prospect. The sneer on Ross’s face assured him he wasn’t joking about turning him over to the mob. But was he willing to exchange the last of his dignity for his safety? If he took his chances and ran, how far would he get before there were mob enforcers after him, and how was he supposed to hold his own in his estrogen-weakened state, much less in a tight skirt and high heels?

“Well, what’s it going to be?” Ross asked viciously.

Head bowed in shame, Benny slowly reached forward and picked up the bikini top, holding its strap between his long, sparkly pink nails.

“Good girl,” Ross grinned.

Benny had harbored dreams of getting his mojo back and returning to the ring, but never, in his wildest nightmares, had he imagined it like this. Instead of lacing up his gloves and putting on his robe, Benny found himself preparing by doing his hair and makeup, teasing his long dark tresses with hairspray to create a sexy-messy look, then outlining his eyes with plenty of dark kohl and mascara to give him a smouldering, come-hither gaze and slathering his big pouty lips with a glistening pink gloss to catch the bright lights of the canvas. As he put on a pair of five-inch wrap-around stilettos and adjusted his deepening cleavage in the mirror, he saw no trace of Benny “Pretty Boy” MacDonald…only Bella, Ross’s newest and hottest ring girl.

As he minced around the ring, swishing his hips and waving his little sign with a dazzling white smile plastered on his face, he could feel both fighters’ eyes travelling lustfully up and down his slender body, and Ross then gave him a salacious wink that made his face burn. He wasn’t even allowed to watch the fight itself, kept busy instead trying to sell season tickets or taking pictures with drunken fans, all of whom were eager for an opportunity to grope his scantily-clad breasts or buttocks. Where he once would have laid a man flat just for looking at him wrong, he was now forced to giggle, simper, and smile as fans fondled and propositioned him--Ross had made it clear that any other reaction would lose him his job.

And Ross also made a spectacle of “Bella” whenever he could, often playfully swatting his bottom as he wiggled his way out of the ring, and once even pulling him in for a “good luck” kiss, forcing his tongue between Benny’s pretty lips and groping him thoroughly. That steamy display, televised as it was on national TV, made his girlfriend so angry that she left him, but Ross didn’t care. Watching his former rival, who had once humiliated him in the ring, forced to scamper around in high heels and a bikini, was not only vindicating, but arousing. He already made sure Benny spent all his time tanning and dieting to look good in his swimsuit, and he had plans to get him a boob job soon, as well.

Seated in his corner, he glanced over to where “Bella” was waiting down below, staring wistfully at the boxers with a pout of misery on “her” full, luscious lips, no doubt remembering the career of a certain young boxing phenom mysteriously cut short. Ross grinned, wondering how long it would take his former rival to figure out that he’d been the one to pay off the doctor, pump him full of female hormones, and set him up to get in over his head with the mob. Benny MacDonald had been a good boxer, but he had never been particularly sharp.

The bell rang and Ross bounced to his feet, fists raised, but he knew he would never beat another opponent as thoroughly as he’d beaten Benny--after all, their rivalry had ended with a knockout!