They’re already kneeling when I enter, shoulders stiff, voices trembling, money and ego stripped the moment they crossed into my space. I don’t rush them. Forced Feminization settles in during the silence, when their need starts leaking out before I’ve said a word.
“Please,” one of them blurts, voice cracking. “Zuri… I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
I stop in front of him. “Like what?” I ask coolly.
“A man,” he breathes, eyes glossy. “I want to be soft. I want you to make me… feminine.”
I smile, slow and dangerous. “Beg properly.”
Another one leans forward, desperation spilling out. “We’ll do anything. Dresses, manners, obedience… tell us how to be women for you.”
They’re rich, white men who’ve never begged anyone for a thing, and now they can’t stop. They interrupt each other, voices overlapping, pleading to be corrected, shaped, owned. I raise my hand and the room snaps silent.
“One at a time,” I command. “Women don’t talk over their superior.”
“Yes, Zuri,” they whisper in unison.
I circle them, heels clicking, listening as they confess what they want stripped away. Their titles. Their dominance. Their right to decide. When one says, “I want you to erase the man in me,” I stop behind him.
“You don’t get erased,” I say. “You get redesigned.”
He shudders. “Please… teach me how to be pretty. How to behave. I don’t want to think anymore.”
Another reaches for my leg without permission. I tap his hand away with my toe. “Did I say you could touch?”
“No,” he whimpers.
“Then ask. Women ask.”
“Please, Zuri,” he says quickly. “May I serve you as the woman you want me to be?”
That’s better.
I correct their posture, their words, their tone. Every time they slip into confidence, I shut it down. Every time they beg properly, I reward them with approval that makes them melt. They thank me for humiliating them, for controlling them, for taking away the pressure of being men.
By the end, they’re not arguing or posturing. They’re pleading… soft, eager, obedient… waiting for me to tell them who they are now. And I do, calmly, decisively.
Because once they beg to become women for me, there’s no power left to take. It’s already mine.
