Author's Note

Maxine's POV

An Introduction: 29

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I had been following the girl from my room. She had picked me up, by the door; leading me, to this door.

I watch her, as she is lifting up her right hand; extending it to the plaque on the right side of the door. She had said nothing, as she was leading me to this room; now she is pressing the palm down onto the plaque, spreading her fingers wide; the door slides up and she gestures to me to enter the room.

Obediently, I follow the gesture; stepping into the room, with her a mere step behind me. As expected, the door slides shut behind her; quietly, as if not to disturb the tranquil silence in the room.

I am alone, in the room with only the girl guiding me forwards.

The floor; covered with inch-thick crystal-clear silicon. The soft padded material greedily swallows every sound, except for its own.

“Squeak, squeak; squeak, squeak..” I hear, with every step I take; just as of every single step she takes, as she is following me deeper into the room.

“Why did she take me to this room?” I ponder, unsure of her purpose, and her intentions.

Yet, I hold my peace; not a sound passing over my lips.

I am treading lightly; as if on ice too thin, I can not trust to hold me if I take a step too fast. Unsure of myself, and who I am; in the land of magic and mirages, in which I had found myself.

How could I question, and how could I challenge; the magic making me into who I am, taking me to where I am? Thoughts jumbled and fearful, as I don’t know who I am or how I can fit into the world such as it is; when a life could be changed in such subtle, yet abrupt manners such as what I had just gone through?

I had found myself in a maze, where I had to trust the girl by my side. Who is she? I do not know, and she had never told me. There is something, about her; that defies all the logic, I could device. she simply defy my logic.

Her skin is a pale pinkish hue, smooth, almost as if it had been a make-up. She walks with the grace I wish I could duplicate; but I am new, to being the girl in the room. Apparently, I had been the buffoon; a klutz and a clumsy partner. I had permitted everything I had, and everything I had ever been; to be pulled out of my grasp, the very floor pulled out from under my feet as if it had been nothing. Less than nothing, in fat; however that, is even possible.

Yet, here I am; the apprentice of the Mistress and her minions known as Grooms.

Even if the room she had taken me into is small, but this is but one small part of the maze I had found myself in.

“There, stop!” she instructs me, only two feet from the seemingly invisible wall.

“Oh-okay!” I respond.

“Lift up your right hand, extend it; feel the wall before you and caress it!” she instructs me.

“Y-y-yes..” I respond, as I comply.

“There..” she coos; “You feel the smooth surface of the wall?” she inquires.

“Y-y-y-yes..” I respond; “It really is smooth, but it almost feels wet to the touch!” I realize.

“Now..” she proclaims; “if you spread your legs; a foot apart, should be just right!” she points out.

“Y-y-yes..” I respond, as I comply.

“There..” she concedes; “that wasn’t so bad?” she inquires, as she is leading me to her intended end-goal.

“N-n-no-o-oh!” I agree.

“Good, good!” she coos.

“Now..” she proclaims; “If you lift up your left hand, press it onto the wall before you!” she suggests.

“Y-y-yes..” I respond, as I comply.

“What is she up to?” I ponder, hesitantly; as I stand, waiting for what she is about to say next.

She stands behind me, ominous; towering over me, in presence.

“Spread your fingers, slowly..” she incites; “while you slowly spread your hands apart..” she continues; “stop, right there!” she then points out, as my arms had been spread to ninety degrees apart.

“Press your hands onto the wall, slowly; feel the resistance, as you add pressure!” she instructs me.

“Oh-okay!” I respond, as I start to apply pressure, pressing my hands onto the wall before me.

At first, the surface is hard and resists my efforts; but son, I feel the thick membrane slowly starting to give way and stretch. While it is not stretching much; but it is enough for me to notice, as I can see the surface stretch and give way, on the inherent reflection.

“Excellent, excellent; more, just a little bit more!” she coos, while watching me from behind.

She stops, and the room is quiet, while she is neither speaking nor acting.

Now she is taking a step to the right; permitting me a better view of her, in the reflection she is giving me in the smooth surface.

Oh, but have a look, look closer; but don’t slack off, just because of me!” she is instructing me.

Now she is pulling the right glove off of her hand. Slowly, meticulously; putting effort into the perfectly slow and delicate motion. It is all for the show; knowing I am watching her, on the reflection before me.

Once the glove is off of her hand, she just let it fall to the floor; before she returns her attention to her left hand, repeating the process in exact detail.

What I see, is her hands; pitch black, glossy. The hands are looking exactly as before; but the black hue of her skin changes my impression of her. I can’t help myself, as I suck in air in a sudden gasp; incidentally putting more pressure onto my hands. My fingers still spread as wide, as I possibly could.

At this point, she is producing a remote control device. As I watch, she is flipping a switch; before she is turning the wheel all the way up, thus strengthening the effect as much as possible.

“See, I am black too!” she exclaims, in overt excitement I had never been expecting from her.

For a moment, her act had distracted me; but then I notice how the surface is clinging to the skin of my hands, almost as if intending to melt and fuse with my hands.

“Do press a little bit harder, my dear; I know you can, and I want to see you put in the effort!” she coos, seductively; in an effort, to incite me to do as she pleased.

“Oh-okay!” I mumble, as I comply, not quite able to resist her; even as my body wanted to pull my hand beck, as I press them down even further.

“Excellent, excellent..” she exclaims; “there, there; I knew you had it in you, you can put just a little bit more into it..” she coos.

“Whatever she had in mind, I can’t resist her..” I realize; “but she knew that, before I had even set foot in this room!” I ponder.

With that, she is putting the remote control away; before she is stepping up behind me, quietly as she is lifting her hands up on my right and left side.

Now I find her cupped hands, gently cupping my breasts in a firm grip, measuring the orbs with a delighted grin on her face.

“Oo-ooh!” I yelp; trying to take a step back, but to no avail.

Naturally; I could not move forwards with the wall before me, more than I could move to the right or left.

“Wha..” I exclaim, as it finally is hitting home what she had applied to me; as my hands are clinging to the wall before me, as if she had glued the palms of my hands onto its surface.

“Excellent, excellent..” she is acknowledging; “you have finally caught on, to the predicament I have been placing you into..” she points out; “let us enjoy the moment, together; because you are trapped, in the grasp of my hands!” she concludes.

There is a flash of light, and an iridescent glow under her hands; indicating, what she is doing.

She takes a step back, making a tentative tug; as if she tries to let go, only to find her hands sticking to the orbs that are my breasts. She just giggles hysterically in excitement.

“What..” I exclaim; “How..” I try; “ho-o-ow, did you do that?” I finally stutter, trying to figure out how she had done, what she had just done to me.

“Simple..” she coos; “Magic, my dear!” she explains; in a delightful voice, bordering of foreboding and ominous.

Her hands are giving a tactile tease, as her fingers tentatively squeeze; all while her hands still are sticking to the place, of her initial choosing. I am stuck, captive and captivated; as she is having her way with me, teasing and teaching me the place of uncertainty and inherent fear.

I can not escape her, as my hands are stuck onto the wall before me, while her hands obediently stick to my breasts.

“M-m-magic?” I hesitantly inquire, insecure and uncertain of my place and what she had in mind for me.

“Yes..” she responds; “Magic!” she coos, seductively.

“I-I-I..I do not quite understand..” I respond; “it does not make sense, but I can’t quite explain away my situation or her place in it..” I realize, with a mind in haze based on the fear she had induced.

“Maybe that is the point, magic should never be fully understood!” she points out.

“No..” I agree; “Isn’t that in the very definition of magic?” I ponder.

“I am certain, you do recall the crop your Mistress wielded upon you; how she changed you, into what you are now?” she inquires, grinning knowingly.

“Y-y-yes-s..” I respond; “I still do recall that..” I continue.

“Good, good..” she promptly pronounces; “Excellent!” she proclaims.

“How could I forget that?” I ponder; “After she had turned my life upside down!” I continue.

“You though, I was just a regular girl; as I led you into this room, didn’t you?” she inquires.

“Uhm, y-y-yes-s; I did..” I respond; “why shouldn’t I?” I inquire; “You looked like a regular girl, and you still do; aside from that..” I continue.

“The gloves, right?” she puts forwards; How you have seen a glimpse of who I am..” she points out; “but don’t think, for a second; you know who, or what I am, just for that!” she points out.

“The skin of her hands, is looking like polished rubber; but she had just taken her gloves off of her hands..” I ponder.

“In your terms, I guess you could consider me a Witch?” she suggests; “I imagine that would make sense, in your limited comprehension!” she concludes.

I just nod, hesitantly.

She is distracting me, from what is important and what is going on; what she is doing to me, but I am a willing participant in what she does. While I may be acting out of fear and confusion, but she is expertly leading me forwards towards the goal she had set up for me.

While her hands, on my breasts had been scary and uncomfortable at first; she had made me grow used, to her fondling me in this fashion. I could not deny it, and I am not going to deny it. While I may still be denying it, to myself.

“I am trying to be gentle about this, because I enjoy how you react to my advancements!” she promptly coos her explanation.

Y-y-yo-you do?” I stammer.

“Part of you enjoys, what I am doing; but your reasoning is conflicting, for fairly clear and understandable reasons!” she pushes forwards; “You have to reconcile what happened to you, how it has changed you; so you can enjoy it, to the fullest!” she explains.

“Uh-oh.. oh-okay?” I mumble in response.

“You see, you will walk out of here, as you are; get used to it, it is not going to change!” she points out, as she continues to caress my breasts.

“No, no; I can not!” I ponder; “but I am a female, a girl; my body wants to enjoy it, her soft and delicate advances..” I realize, mid sentence.

If she is a girl, a woman, a witch, a female; does change exactly nothing for me, right now.

Am I more uncomfortable, about the body I am in; or how she is holding me tight, as she is grouping my breasts? Somehow, I can not help myself; enjoying the feeling of her hands, as she continues to caress me.

I am feeling her, as she is stepping up close, closer; standing just behind me, as she is embracing me.

“I want to scream, but I can’t; I want her to continue, but somehow my body is not quite comfortable with a woman up close!” I realize.

I love the bust, my Mistress had given me; if only it had been on a woman, I could embrace and adore from the correct perspective. Could I caress and group the breasts, she gave me; without feeling self-conscious and awkward?

Of course my breasts are firm, just the way real female breasts are supposed to; just that it feels as if they are squishy and elastic, as she is fondling them in her hands.

She is distracting me, as she is exploring my breasts for me; stepping back, step by step. Ever so slowly. All of a sudden, I realize my arms are stretched out as far as they go; my hands, still clinging to the wall. Bonded, fused to the wall; as if she had glued my skin, onto the crystal-clear membrane that is the wall.

Only now, she is taking another, final step back; stretching my arms, in order to incite me to struggle against the now taught membrane the palms of my hands are fused to.

She had given me no options, so I find myself forced to comply; as I try to pull at my hands, I feel the membrane stretch and pull back. Yet, it is not giving way, so my hands are stretching with it.

In turn, she is teasing me; by tugging lightly at my breasts, as she continues to caress and group me and my breasts in particular. As the master of the situation, her hands can not let go; as she had fused the palms of her hands onto the skin of my breasts, stretching them as if they had been made out of rubber.

I feel the delight in her, radiate; as the heat, off of the furnace in a forge. She clearly is enjoying herself, as she continues to tease me to her heart’s content; for as long as she had been instructed to keep it up, before the grip snaps.

Just as the grip snaps, like a thin twig; I feel my breasts, bounce back and keep bouncing for a long moment.

“Oo-ooh!” I mumble.

“You did enjoy that, didn’t you?” she coos accusatory, as another taunt; teasing me further.

She is, and had been rocking my boat; in distracting me, constantly pulling my attention her way. She is purposely pushing me towards a new conclusion; a new equilibrium, where I can become the girl my Mistress had crafted me into. I had no choice, back then; but now, maybe I do.

She had left go of me and my breasts, maintaining her embrace for just a moment longer; before she is reluctantly letting go, pulling back one step behind me. She is still behind me, behind my back. Inciting feelings and sensation I am not prepared for, or previously familiar with.

“You are exposed, I am exposing you to the mirror of who you once were!” she points out, in a flash, clearing things up.

My mind rebelling; how could I reconcile, with who I had been, as I wear the guise of a woman? There is no choice, I have to face this.

“You faced the Judge and the Jury; I am the executioner, I am here to perform the sentence!” she points out.

“Y-y-yo-yo-ou-u are?” I stutter.

“I will not ask you; but you will have to find your way back, from the exile imposed upon you!” she explains.

“Oo-oh..” I mouth; “Oh-okay!” I continue.

“Since you can not return to who you were; whom, do you want to be?” she prompts, urging me forwards.

“Take a step forth, forward; accept who you are, and embrace who you are!” she pushes me forwards.

“Oh-okay!” I respond, as I find myself taking a small step forward.

“I want you, to tentatively tug at your hands, then permit the hand to move freely and push forwards; repeatedly, just to get a feel for it..” she instructs me; “Permit yourself, to interact with this; on its terms, rather than expecting it to blindly comply with your wishes..” she points out.

“Oh-okay” I respond; “Oh-oh..” I mouth, as I do as she had instructed me.

I feel the membrane stretch, giving way; but only to a point, where I am forced into accepting the limitations of its will. The more effort I put into it, the more it will resist; the harder the recoil, and the more it will be pushing me along with it.

While the boundary is fluid, the limitations are strict and refuse to cooperate with me. There is no working around it, forcing or coercing it into compliance.

“Strange..” I ponder.

My Mistress had stripped me of all my former strength and endurance, in one single fluid sweeping motion; reducing me to what I am now, permitting me to make due with the little she had left me with. She had turned me, transformed me into the small, feeble woman I am now.

But, maybe she had left me with something else?

“Maxine?” I hear a voice calling out.

“Uh, what?” I respond, as the voice had been calling out to me.

There had been neither confusion, nor hesitance; as I had been responding to the name called out, to me. I recognize the name, given to me. It is my name, and I know it by heart; as if it had been mine all along, all these long years of my life.

It isn’t the fact, that I am the only girl in the room; aside from the groom, exercising me. My groom, teaching me who I am. What I am. I will have to live, with this lesson she is teaching me. There is no escape. It isn’t, that escape is futile; there is none.

As I am struggling, or playing with the given boundaries of my position; she is walking back to the door, from where she is flipping the switch. Just that she is staying back, watching me, as I experience, explore what she had put before me.

“Click..” is heard, vaguely; as she finally had flipped that one switch, leaving my hands free and liberated from the bond onto the wall.

At the moment, my hands had been pushed hard into the membrane, resisting the effort. As I feel the rubber pushing back and I pull at my hands; the membrane refuses to follow, as I take a step back.

“Now, let us play another game!” she coos, and I comply.

“Yes..” I merely respond.

“Turn around, then step into the middle of the room..” she instructs me.

“Oh-okay..” I respond, somewhat hesitant; as I comply, walking over to the indicated spot.

“There, perfect..” she proclaims; “Now, bend over; place your hands on the floor, directly under yourself!” she concludes.

“Oh-okay!” I respond, as I obediently comply.

“Now, spread your fingers; as wide as you can..” she explains; “Grab hold of the floor, under your hands..” she concludes.

“Oh-okay!” I respond, as I do as I had been told.

“I wonder; what she is driving at, now!” I ponder.

“There, perfect..” she coos; “Excellent, excellent!” she proclaims, with a wide grin all over her face.

Had I looked up; would her expression have scared me, or excited me? I have no idea, and I may never know.

“Lift up your right hand, slightly!” she incites, watching me comply.

“Oh-okay!” I respond, as I am watching the clear material stretch under my hand.

“Beautiful, just beautiful!” she coos.

She is producing; what appears to be a pencil, drawing a ling along the right hand.

“Lift up your left hand, slightly!” she incites, watching me comply.

“Oh-oh-oh!” I mumble, as I watch the material stretch.

“Beautiful, just beautiful!” she coos.

Just as the material under my hand is stretching; she moves in, drawing a line along the border around the entire hand. I barely feel the tip of her pencil, looking exactly like a lip-liner; but the clear tip is bonding the hand onto the material on which it is resting.

“Relax, then give your right hand a tentative tug!” she coos, watching me comply.

“Once, twice, thrice!” I mouth, as I give my hand a tentative tug; only to see the surface of the material stretch, just a little bit more with each tentative tug I am attempting.

“There, perfect!” she coos, in an affirmative tone, inspiring me to enjoy her game.

“Oh-okay!” I mouth.

“Relax, then give your left hand a tentative tug!” she coos, as she had just drawn a second line along the border of my hand.

“Once, twice, thrice!” I mouth, as I perform her given task.

“Wait, what?” I ponder; “My hand just sank further into the floor, as she was drawing the line around my hand!” I realize, in apparent surprise.

“Relax!” she coos.

Only now, I watch her drawing a second line with the second tip of that clear pencil. First around my right hand, then around my left hand.

“Uh, how did you do that?” I inquire.

“Magic, of course!” she teases; “but alas, this is one of my favourite tricks; bonding your body onto the surface, upon which it is currently touching!” she coos.

“A magic marker, binding me to a special or specific object or material?” I inquire.

“Guess you could put it that way..” she concedes.

“I think I like the Magical marker!” I offer.

“It certainly is a good tool!” she agrees; “I love applying it, helping you finding your place!” she confesses.

Now she is applying the line along my right and left hand, for the third time. Once, twice and thrice, as it was.

“Now, if you could just give your right hand a sizable yank?” she suggests.

“Oh-okay!” I respond; “Once, twice, thrice!” I mouth, as I follow her suggestion.

I feel the floor stretch, but my hand still remains firmly on the floor; giving me a strange sensation of the surface stretching my fingers in the process.

“Now, if you could give your left hand a sizable yank?” she continues.

“Oh-okay!” I respond; “Once, twice, thrice!” I mouth, as I follow her instruction.

“The glossy surface has spread more and more over my hands; as she applied that Magic Marker, with each application!” I realize.

“Perfect, just perfect!” she coos, in delight; as she is enjoying the effect, her work is having on me.

I can’t escape it, and she knows it; exciting her all the more, as she sees how I am realizing what she is doing for me.

Following her instructions had only confirmed, what I should have known; just as it confirms her action, holding me to the choice. The more I struggle, trying to pull free; the stronger the effect is holding me in place.

“Uu-uu-uh-hm..” I mumble; “but I am stuck..” I continue; “I can’t even move a finger!” I conclude.

“Yes, but of course..” she responds, with a light giggle; “but, that was the idea!” she points out.

“Uh-oh?” I mumble; “It was?” I then inquire.

“Feel free, to enjoy the situation..” she offers; “give your hands a few tentative tugs at least!” she encourages me.

“Oh-ok!” I respond; “you think?” I inquire.

“Take a moment, to explore your situation!” she suggests; “Then I will be back, to pick you up!” she is promising.

With that, she is quiet, as she is walking out of the room. I hear the squeaking noises of her feet, then it is quiet.

With nothing better to do, I do as she had told me; tugging at my hands, just a bit more enthusiastic.

I can feel the clear silicon stretch, and my fingers and hands with it; but I can’t pull free, as hard as I may try. Just that it seems to be the only entertainment she had left me with. Considering how my hands remain stuck in place, and my fingers remain spread as wide as I could have managed.

“Whoa?” I exclaim; “I did not realize, it could be stretched this much!” I realize; “or, that it could pull me back, quite this hard..” I exclaim, in apparent surprise.

I continue, to pull, with nothing better to do. She comes back, only to find me on the floor; exhausted and sweaty.

“I guess, it is time I help you up?” she inquires.

“Uh-ok..” I mouth; “Thank you, I would appreciate that!” I conclude.

She had swapped the pencil she had used in order to bond me to the floor; to the one, breaking the bond. Now she is drawing a line; first along the border of my right hand, and then around my left hand.

As much as I may have pulled, I could never have broken the bond by myself; but now I can see the clear silicon recede, as she had broken the bond.

As the bond is broken, my hands finally liberated; she helps me up, to a standing position.

“I think you may need to rest, let me help you back to your room!” she offers.

I nod, emphatically.

“Yes, please!” I respond.

She leads me towards the door. Just as we reach the door, she is extending her right hand; pressing the palm of her hand onto the plaque, spreading her fingers to open the door. As the door slides up, she helps me walk out of the room.