International Dating Agency         by: Roy Del Frink

 

It was another slow day. I was waiting for clients to show, but since my brand-new International Dating Agency only had a couple escorts and no ads out, there really wasn’t much to do. I was about to fold shop when I saw six college-age men enter the shop. "Hi," they told me, "we want six of your best girls. We’re going out for a night on the town, and we need dates."

"Well, you’re welcome to what we have," I replied, "but we’re kind of new, so I only have two girls to offer you. Don’t worry, though, I can make each of you a girl of your very own." I chuckled to myself, as I remembered the special procedure I’ve planned for an overflow of stock. The first two guys who came here got turned into Dolly, a big-busted bimbo blonde, and Erin, a red-headed Irish lass. I wasn’t advertising yet because I didn’t have enough girls. But these six would give me all the escorts I’d ever need.

"MAKE?" their leader scoffed at me. "Are you, like, a magician or something?"

"Sort of," I replied. "I graduated from Wizard’s School with a degree in Transformology last June. And I’m still working at it, but I think I’ve got it down pat now. See, I need more escorts to get my business started, and you guys look like you’d make excellent ladies. Just sit back as I make you more comfortable. Don’t worry, this won’t hurt, and I think you’ll like the improvements in your appearances."

The six men were a little distraught at being turned into females, and tried to exit the building. A little freeze spell put a stop to that. Now I had to decide what to turn them into. I usually wanted to turn them into some foreign, exotic thing. Why do you think I put ‘International’ in the title? Just a little change in personality, appearance, and past memories, and voila! Another masterpiece of feminine flesh. I really love changing dudes into gals; it’s my best work, if I do say so myself. And I do say so myself!

Anyhow, I started to read their minds, so that I’d have a good idea what they’d wish to be. The first guy I read was Brian Murphy. He was a major fan of African culture. He was distraught that "the Dark Continent" had been generally overlooked in world affairs, and felt the international community ought to do more about their problems of famine and warfare. At the same time, he was only about five foot three and wanted to be taller. I had a common solution that would solve both problems. I made him about a foot and a half taller; he now stood six foot eight. I also darkened his skin, until it was about the same color as a Hershey bar. His hair darkened from a light straight brown to a deep curly black, and fell down below his rounded shoulders. His eyes turned from blue to brown. And, of course, I feminized him, giving him an attractive female figure, lady-like workings at the bottom of her giant torso, and large but manageable breasts. Afterwards, he asked me in flawless French, "Quelle est la signification de ceci?" ("What is the meaning of this?")

Answering my newest creation, I told her, "Your name is Brianna Mugwana. You are a Tutsi, whose family fled the massacres of Rwanda five years ago. You speak a little English, but French is still your primary language, and I’m here to help you learn English better. Just stay with me, Biranna, and I’ll help you cope with your new home."

"Merci," ("Thank you.") she replied. (I should have told you; part of the magic of this spell allows the newly-transformed ladies to have an intelligible conversation with me, even though I only speak English.) I had just signed up my next client.

The second gentleman was named Ollie Swanson. He had a certain fondness for things European, and had always wondered what life in the Old World was like. So I turned him into something International Dating Agency needed from day one. His hair lightened from black to blonde, and his eyes turned from green to blue. He lost a couple inches, down to about five foot ten in height. His figure not only feminized, but also became thin and lanky. Nevertheless, two sizeable breasts formed on his chest. His genitals also adapted for his new female body. The result was nothing less than a blonde bombshell. She just stared at me, and asked in Swedish, "Vem finns jag?" ("Who am I?")

I replied, "You are Olga Svensson. You came to the US from Sweden two years ago. You understand a little English, but still speak Swedish better. I will help you learn the language better, and you can work for me."

Olga replied, "Tack så mycket," ("Thank you very much.") and smiled at me.

My third transformee was Martin Romer. He was a fluent Spanish speaker, and had a love for our neighbors down south in Mexico. That much said, I obliged him. His hair darkened from red to brown, and his skin darkened to the color of a paper bag. His eyes changed from hazel to pure brown, and he shortened down to about five feet two inches in height. Once again, I turned his whole body into that of a beautiful woman. Her breasts were a tad large, but would have been about average size on a woman a whole foot taller than she was now. The new Martin asked me, "Quë usted ha hecho a mì?" ("What have you done to me?")

I told my Aztec princess, "Don’t worry, Maria Ramirez. I’ve rescued you from those nasty factory managers who make you work long, hard hours for pennies a day. Since you’ve lived in the US for many years, you’re almost as good at English as at Spanish, but you could still use some help. I will also give you a decent, well-paid position to help you bring in your relatives from Mexico."

"Gracias," ("Thanks.") she replied. Another grateful future escort.

Now I turned my attention to the fourth man, Luke Gordon. He was a staunch environmentalist, determined to save the planet’s rain forests while they still existed. He was also tall and strong. The change for him was obvious. I added another couple inches to his height, so that he was now six foot eleven. I also darkened his skin color a couple shades, to about an olive-bronze mixture. His hair became long and black, his eyes became a brownish shade of hazel, and his muscles were strengthened. I also gave him a large pair of breasts, about G-cup size. On a shorter woman, they would have been ridiculously large. On this new oversized lady, however, they looked just small enough to be reasonable. She now looked like an Amazon of Greek myth, from the real-life Amazonian basin. All she could ask me was, "Quem eu me transformei?" ("Why was I transformed?")

Hearing her Portuguese, I told her, "You are now Lucia Gonzales. An American logger who cleared out your old Brazilian rain forest home discovered you, the last of your tribe, and took him home three years ago. Today you still don’t speak English too well; your Portuguese is much better. I can give you a place to stay and a job to do, until you’re back on your feet again."

"Agradeça-o, senhor amàvel," ("Thank you, kind sir.") Lucia replied. I so love helping my new creations.

The fifth gentleman was named Robert Kowalski. He was fond of the South Pacific, having seen the movie of the same name seven times before his fifteenth birthday. He also had an unusual desire to be a mixed-gender breed, neither male nor female. I was happy to oblige, especially since I knew some of my customers might want that. I darkened his skin slightly, to the shade of an overripe orange. He shrank down to about five foot five, about average height for a woman. His hair became black, and straightened down to his shoulder blades. His body turned totally feminine, even acquiring D-cup breasts, except for one thing. I not only kept his male organ, but expanded it out to ten inches. Nevertheless, he looked every bit the sexy female under his clothes. In a broken Pidgin English, with a soothing alto, he asked me, "What for you do me now?"

I replied, "You, Robin Kawahula, have come to the US from Tonga last year. Your culture has no tolerance for those not totally male or female, so they planned to kill you until a kindly American took pity on you and smuggled you here. I’m in charge of you now, and I’ll see that my lovely she-male gets all the attention she needs. You’ll also have a lovely job escorting fine young men to parties, and possibly doing a little something extra."

Robin stared into my eyes, smiled, and replied, "Thanks from this cat." I now turned towards the last man.

Lester Minge had never really enjoyed his life, and had a strong love for Japanese food and culture. He was especially fond of anime in general, and Ranma 1 / 2 in particular. He had no relatives; the aunt and uncle who’d raised him died two months before in a freak auto accident. He was the leader of which I spoke earlier, and I wanted to make it up to him. I now had escorts from every continent except Asia, so I had the perfect thing in mind for him. I bronzed his skin, shortened him to barely five feet, gave him long black hair and a very womanly body, down to perfect, sizable, flawless breasts. But I gave him an extra something my other escorts lacked - a ponytail down to his knees. Just as I finished, my latest, greatest creation spoke to me in Japanese. She asked, "Izuku gozen atashi?" ("Where am I?")

I replied, "You, Minako Li, are the most special of all my escorts. You are a Japanese orphan, who reached the US just last week. You could only survive your native Kyoto as a modern-day geisha girl, a prostitute. But here, you will never have sex with any client you don’t choose to. Of course, you will charge extra for that. You’re in safe hands now."

Li smiled and me and replied, "Sousou! Doumoarigatou toshite mori kochira." ("Of course! Thanks for helping me.")

"You’re welcome, dear," I told her. Now I have eight ladies for my service, which ought to cover any possible need for my clients. Now I can start advertising my girls and making my first million.

THE END

 

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