My Uncle Gave Me a New Life and a Woman’s Name

I followed Carmen down the hallway to an enormous room that, at that moment, was completely empty. There was an imposing bed without sheets, a dressing table with not a single bottle on it, an open, hollow wardrobe, and a sitting area with a low table and a television far too large for anyone. At the back, against a picture window overlooking the garden, stood a golden bathtub gleaming in the afternoon light.

—This will be your room —Carmen told me, in that calm voice that seemed to have repeated the speech many times—. The gentleman’s room is at the other end of the hall. You will not go in there unless he asks you to.

In my innocence, I thought the tub was really made of gold. I laughed to myself as I took in every corner of that place, which suddenly belonged to me and yet didn’t.

Carmen pointed out a panel beside the door. It had a list of names: master bedroom, living room, dining room, library, garden. She explained that my uncle always carried a small device with him; when he pressed it, a light came on at the corresponding spot on the panel, and I would know exactly where he was.

—If you hear a melodious bell, he’s calling you —she said—. If you hear a dry buzzer, he’s calling the rest of the staff. When you hear the bell, go wherever the light indicates. Without delay.

—And what if I don’t get there in time? —I asked.

—You will get there in time —she replied, without menace and without a smile. Just certainty.

I nodded, though inside I wondered what kind of world I had gotten myself into. Just a few days earlier, I had been someone else, with another name, other clothes, another routine. And now I was there, barefoot on a marble floor, listening to rules as if I were learning a new language. I didn’t feel repulsion. Rather, I felt a warm surrender, almost a pleasant one.

Then she invited me into the tub, which was already prepared with warm water and a gentle floral scent. The sensation enveloped me at once; the heat rose up my legs and loosened my shoulders, which I hadn’t even realized I was holding tense. Carmen knelt beside the edge and set about pampering me: she washed my hair with firm fingers, ran the sponge over my back, my arms, every part of me, as if she were polishing me for a display case.

—The gentleman can’t stand bad smells —she warned me as she rinsed me—. You’ll bathe at least twice a day. That’s why you have your own bathroom, right there.

She pointed to a door concealed in the wall beside the dressing table, identical to the surrounding surface. I hadn’t even noticed it.

—The rest of the staff already knows you’re here —she continued—. Don’t worry about what happens between you and him. No one will ever say a word. And they’ll do everything you ask, give you whatever you want, as long as the gentleman hasn’t ordered otherwise.

Otherwise. What a broad expression.

When she finished cleaning me, she asked me to get out. She dried me, wrapped me in a robe in my size, and put a towel around my hair. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Carmen opened it, and a very beautiful young woman came in who, when she saw me, excitedly covered her mouth with her hands.

—Oh my, what a beauty! Tell me, are you Mariela?

—Ah… yes, that’s me —I answered, still not used to my new name. Every time I heard it, I felt a little dizzy, like stepping onto a stair that wasn’t there.

—It’s a pleasure. I’m Daniela, your personal stylist and makeup artist. Unless the gentleman tells me how he wants you to look, you choose how I style you. For now, we’re going to get you ready for your appointment with him.

It was too much to process, but it didn’t occur to me to refuse. Daniela sat me in front of the dressing table and began by drying and styling my hair.

—Don’t worry about the length —she said, working quickly—. It’ll grow, and then I’ll give you proper hairstyles.

She styled my hair in an old-fashioned look, from another decade, and then moved on to my makeup. I felt the brushes moving across my face, the gentle touches beneath my eyes, the eyeliner.

—This makeup won’t run with tears, and it’s very difficult to remove with your hands —she remarked casually.

I didn’t understand what she meant. I would understand later.

She painted the nails on my hands and feet an intense red.

—It’s fine for a start. Next time I’ll bring the complete manicure kit.

Finally, she took hold of my ears and, with almost surgical precision, pierced my lobes and put in a pair of small earrings. Then she fastened a delicate necklace with a butterfly pendant around my neck.

—Look at yourself —she said, turning the mirror toward me.

I was left breathless. It was like seeing myself for the first time. The person in the reflection had my eyes, but everything else was new, soft, desirable. I turned my head slightly, the way they had taught me, and the lock of hair fell exactly where it was supposed to. I fell in love with myself at that moment, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

—See? —Daniela said, resting her hands on my shoulders from behind—. This is only the beginning. Wait until you have the complete wardrobe. You’re going to forget that you were ever anything else.

I didn’t know what to say. I simply kept looking at my reflection for a while longer, searching for the remnants of who I had been and not quite finding them. Part of me missed them. Another part, larger than I expected, let them go without a fight.

Carmen and Daniela spent the next while teaching me how to move: how to shift my weight, how to turn my neck, how to lower my voice until it became a warm whisper. I practiced walking from one side of the room to the other while they patiently corrected every gesture.

—It’s time —Carmen finally announced—. We need to go to the gentleman’s room to prepare you.

I said goodbye to Daniela with a kiss blown through the air and followed Carmen down the hall. All the way, I silently repeated the way of walking they had taught me, feeling the cold tiles return each step to me.

***

My uncle’s room was much larger than mine, but different. It wasn’t meant for sleeping. It took me a while to understand that, but on that first night I already sensed it in the air.

—Don’t be frightened —Carmen said—. Everything I do is on his orders.

I let her do it. She led me to the center of a circle marked on the floor, surrounded by five low posts. She asked me to kneel. Then she gently took my wrists and tied them to two of the posts, leaving me stretched forward, offered up. Before she left, she opened my robe and slid it down over my shoulders until it fell behind me, caught by the ropes. I was left naked, kneeling, my tits exposed and my back arched by the tension of my bound wrists.

—He’ll be here in a moment —she said. And she left.

I didn’t see her go, because the door was behind me. I remained staring at the picture window, my own blurred reflection in the dark glass, my heart pounding against my chest. It wasn’t exactly fear. It was something stranger, hotter, a mixture of nerves and curiosity I didn’t know how to name. My nipples had hardened just from being like that, and between my legs I felt a warm wetness that embarrassed me and pleased me at the same time.

It didn’t take long. I heard his footsteps, slow and sure. When he walked around the circle and stood in front of me, I understood why the room wasn’t for sleeping. He was naked and aroused, utterly shameless, looking at me as if examining something he had waited a long time for. His cock was hard and thick, pointing at my face, and from that distance it seemed enormous. The tip gleamed with a thick drop hanging from it, and the smell of man hit me all at once, salty and hot.

—You’re going to be a good girl —he said in a deep voice—. Open your mouth and relax.

And somehow I knew what was going to happen.

I opened my mouth. He poured something sweet into it, thick as honey, a generous amount that filled my tongue. I swallowed some of it; the rest ran warm down my throat. Then he came closer and ran the tip of his cock over my lips, smearing them, rubbing it over my cheek and chin, marking me the way one marks territory.

—Take a breath and hold it as long as you can —he murmured—. Leave the rest to me.

I obeyed. I filled my chest with air and held it. He thrust his cock in at once, all the way down, and I felt the blunt impact in my throat, the hot flesh pushing me beyond where I thought it could fit. I had always been good at swimming, at holding my breath underwater for long stretches, and that childhood skill served me now in a way I never could have imagined. He began to move back and forth, again and again, with methodical patience, gripping the back of my neck with one hand and my hair with the other to drive my face against his stomach with every thrust.

At first I felt the pressure, the urge to cough, the instinct to pull away. My eyes filled with tears, and thick strands of drool fell from my mouth, sliding down my chin and dripping between my tits. But the sweet liquid made everything smoother, and little by little my throat stopped resisting and opened for him, swallowing his entire cock each time he pushed.

—That’s it, good girl —he panted—. Open that throat. I’m going to fuck it until you learn.

What surprised me wasn’t what he was doing. It was what I felt. I was ecstatic. I wanted more. I looked up at him with a joy I didn’t recognize as my own, my eyes full of tears from some gagging that came and went, yet without anything truly hurting me. Each time he withdrew for a second, I dragged in air and stuck out my tongue to lick his balls, to suck the tip, to offer him my open mouth again. My cunt was streaming between my legs without anyone touching me, and I squeezed my thighs together, seeking a friction that never came.

He pulled it out for a moment and slapped my cheek with his wet cock, smack, smack, leaving it painted with saliva.

—Look at me —he ordered. I raised my eyes, my mouth open and my tongue out—. You’re mine. Repeat it.

—I’m yours, sir —I said, my voice raspy from swallowing so much.

—Again, with my cock inside you.

He shoved it back in all the way and continued fucking my mouth, faster now, with blunt thrusts that made me grunt around his flesh. The skin of his balls struck my chin with every thrust, a wet, obscene sound filling the room.

—I’m close —he said, his breathing ragged.

And I felt it. His cock swelled even more between my lips, throbbing. He pulled it out abruptly and gripped himself with his hand, aiming at me. The first jet struck my face, hot and thick, streaking from my cheekbone to the corner of my mouth. The second landed on my tongue, which I held out as Carmen and Daniela had never taught me to do, yet somehow I knew how. The next ones fell between my tits, on my neck, on my chin, a sudden heat spreading across my skin. He groaned, hoarse and sustained, squeezing the last drop against my lips and forcing me to clean the tip with my tongue.

Then he pulled away and let me breathe. I was exhausted, my head throbbing slightly, my hair sticking to my forehead, my face a mess of semen, drool, and black tears that, against all expectations, the makeup had allowed to run a little. But inside, I was floating. My cunt felt soaked and throbbing, and I felt an absurd gratitude for having been used like that.

He stepped back and watched me, catching his breath while wiping his still-hard cock against my cheek.

—Listen carefully, because I’ll say this only once —he said—. When I give you one slap, you will stop whatever you’re doing and attend to me with your mouth until I finish. If I give you two, you’ll use your hands. Is that clear?

—Yes, sir —I replied. The word came out on its own, soft, fitting into my mouth as if it had been waiting there for some time.

—Good. You won’t have any pleasure today —he continued—. You must save yourself for tomorrow. You’ll go out with Carmen and Daniela and buy your entire wardrobe, and a dress for the evening. I have a gala dinner with important people, and you’ll be my companion.

He paused, measuring me with his eyes, lingering on the semen hanging from my chin and dripping between my tits.

—And after dinner —he added—, we’ll finish turning you into a woman. That cunt you’re soaking there on the floor will be mine too.

I said nothing. There was no need. The idea swept through me, half vertigo, half desire, and I squeezed my thighs tighter, unable to stop myself.

He carefully untied me and called Carmen to bathe me again. The second bath was so warm, so long, that I fell asleep in the golden tub with my head resting against the rim while Carmen’s hands sponged away every trace of him from my face, my chest, and between my legs, where I had gotten myself wet without permission. Carmen gently woke me and took me to the bed, which by then had fresh sheets.

—Rest, Mariela —she said, turning off the light—. Tomorrow it really begins.

I curled up beneath the sheets, still tasting sweetness and salt on my tongue and carrying the scent of flowers on my skin. My new life had just begun, and it had begun in the most intense way I could imagine. I closed my eyes thinking about the next day’s dress, the dinner, the promise he had left hanging in the air like a bell that had not yet finished ringing.

And, for the first time in a long while, I fell asleep smiling.