Extra Credit TG

Mark slumped in his chair, staring at the grade report in his hand. He was on the verge of failing his art class, and with it, losing his scholarship. The thought alone made his stomach churn. His professor had given him one last chance: earn extra credit by helping a classmate with their final project. That classmate was Lisa, the eccentric and notoriously detail-oriented fashion design student. He wasn’t thrilled, but he had no other options.

"You're here," Lisa greeted him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as he walked into her studio. The room was filled with sketches, fabric swatches, and mannequins draped in elaborate outfits. It smelled faintly of lavender and something chemical.

"Yeah, I am. What do you need me to do?" Mark asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You’re going to be my model," Lisa said matter-of-factly, her eyes scanning him up and down as if she was appraising a mannequin.

Mark blinked. "Model? Me?"

"Yes, you. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too crazy. I just need you to trust me and follow my instructions."

Mark hesitated but eventually nodded. What choice did he have? Lisa gestured for him to step behind a screen, where she handed him a bathrobe.

"First things first," she said, her tone businesslike as she pulled out a kit of waxing supplies. Mark's eyes widened in panic.

"Wait, you’re waxing me?"

"Every inch. The outfit needs a smooth canvas, and body hair will ruin the look. Besides, this is art. You want to pass, don’t you?" Lisa’s voice was stern, and Mark, feeling trapped, reluctantly agreed.

He clenched his teeth as she applied the warm wax and ripped it away with precise, practiced motions. It was excruciating, but Lisa worked quickly, leaving his skin smooth and pink.

"Next," she announced, pulling out a pair of breast forms. "These will help fill out the dress."

Mark stared at the silicone pieces, a flush creeping up his neck. "Is that really necessary?"

"Absolutely," Lisa said without missing a beat. She carefully attached the forms to his chest, making sure they adhered perfectly. She then moved on to the butt forms, which gave his rear a more rounded shape.

Finally, she held up a pink, lacy panty corset. "This will help flatten things out and give you the proper silhouette," she explained, avoiding his eyes as she handed it to him.

Mark’s face burned with embarrassment as he slipped on the garment. The corset was tight, compressing his front uncomfortably and accentuating the forms on his chest and butt.

"Now for the powder," Lisa said, her tone softening as she gently began to dust his entire body with a pale white powder. "It’ll make your skin look smoother and more uniform, almost like porcelain."

Mark shivered as the cool powder covered his skin, making him look almost ghostly. Still naked except for the corset, he stood awkwardly as Lisa stepped back to admire her work.

"Perfect," she murmured before guiding him to a chair and straddling him. Mark’s breath hitched as she leaned close, her breath warm against his cheek.

"This part is delicate," she said as she began to apply makeup to his face. The brushstrokes were soft, almost soothing, as she coated his face with foundation and pink accents. She carefully traced his lips with a bright pink lipstick, the color bold against his pale face.

As Lisa worked, Mark's body betrayed him. He could feel himself growing hard, his member straining painfully against the tight panty corset. Lisa didn’t seem to notice—or if she did, she gave no indication—as she moved on to trimming his eyebrows and applying a pink eyeshadow that made his eyes pop.

"Last step," she said, grabbing a bright pink bob wig. She positioned it on his head and glued it in place, the blunt bangs framing his newly feminine face.

When she was done, she helped him into the final piece: a glossy pink mini dress. The fabric hugged his body tightly, emphasizing every curve she had carefully crafted. A thick pink collar was the last accessory, snug around his neck.

"This is a command collar," Lisa explained as she fastened it. "It’ll help you walk and move like a model. Trust me."

Mark swallowed hard as he stood in front of the mirror. The person staring back at him was unrecognizable: a pale, pink-haired doll with curves that weren’t his. The collar tingled slightly, and as Lisa guided him onto the makeshift runway she’d set up in her studio, he found himself moving with an unnatural grace, his hips swaying seductively.

"See? You’re perfect," Lisa whispered, watching him with a satisfied smile. Mark’s cheeks burned with shame and confusion, but he couldn’t deny the strange thrill coursing through him as he moved, the collar subtly guiding his every step.