Bride of Frankenstein

 A bit of a darker one, but with a happier ending than a dark one that'll be coming later. A lot of the requests I got for this Halloween were for sweeter stories, but I want to do a few scary ones, it's Halloween after all! 

This one was inspired by "The Skin I Live in," which is one of the only forced feminization movies that I think is actually a really good movie. It's very sad and very dark though, so trigger warning if you check it out. I think it's on Max now, in the US at least. Also inspired by Frakenstein, what with the brain in the body and all.

I ran across the courtyard, putting all of my effort in reaching the man entering the car that will soon depart the property, dooming me to the malicious, steady hands of Dr. Frankenstein. But as I approached and tried to scream, I grew confused, my coordination started to leave me and I fell to the ground. I felt powerless watching this man, who, if he could see me, would immediately sweep me up, take me away, and care for me for the rest of my life. Not because I know him, but because I'm wearing his wife's face.

Olivia Cassidy was a well-known socialite, philanthropist, and celebrity bride of a popular athlete, the one I'm trying to get the attention of now, despite my body failing me and leaving me silently wailing and stuck on the ground. She made the news after being diagnosed with a rare deteriorative brain disease. She inspired the public with her fight, even me, a college dropout crashing on friends' couches and answering ads online to make enough to eat. That even inspired me to volunteer for a medical trial, I knew the whole thing was shady, but it offered a few hundred dollars I wouldn't have seen otherwise.

I was asked to try a pill by a man with an accent I couldn't place the origin of, but again, homeless dropout. I tried it and was asked to write down my experiences and I started to feel drowsy. Then dead-tired. Then nothing for a long time. I remember brief flashes of bright lights. Whispers. Pain. Then I woke up in a hospital bed, inside of a mansion with a different man standing over me, he seemed relieved to see me wake up. I tried to speak, and move, but it felt like I was a stranger in my own body. He told me not to struggle, that I needed all of the energy I could get. He held a mirror up to my face, not my face...

The sick bastard had put my brain into Olivia's body, in simple terms. He explained to me that while I healed I would be in a less-than-capable state. I would soon find out what he meant as my brain wasn't accustomed to the layout of my new body (could I even call it mine?) On top of all the time I spent in bed. So my coordination was off and I wouldn't be able to walk on my own for too long or do things like cook or type. This gave Dr. Frankenstein the opportunity to "help me" go all of the places he made me go. My brain also was dormant for a while and had to acclimate to the new connections the Doctor had made so I couldn't carry a conversation for too long or string together too many thoughts without getting confused. He told me this was for my benefit as it gave him "the chance to finally make me fall in love with him."

Dr. Frankenstein obviously wasn't his real name. I think. I honestly still don't know his real name but what are the odds and... um... What were we talking about? Sorry, like I said it's hard to- Oh! His name. I'm only allowed to call him pet names like "my dear," or "love" or he doesn't respond and leaves stuck wherever he left me. And in a mansion as spacious as his, it's easy to get lost, especially for me. My conditions been improving, the anonymous physical therapists he brings in are great workers, they don't speak English so the doc has to translate for me. I can tell that he's doing everything in his power to make me depend on him and look to him for help, but it's hard for me to keep that grudge in mind.

He's obviously a gifted surgeon, whether he's one who can legally practice in America and... Oh God. What if I'm not even in America anymore? Where was- Right. But he's obviously wealthy. And obviously has illegal connections. And very very obviously has a major obsession with Olivia. Enough to, scoop out her brain and replace it with a healthier one and train it to be her for him? He was willing to soften up my brain to the point I couldn't care for myself to nurture me until I was dependent and hope that turned into the love he couldn't get from the real thing.

The way he looks at me is chilling, thankfully I've recently gained enough trust to bathe myself. I have to sit on a shower seat and he's outside of the curtain the entire time. But I don't feel as vulnerable with his hands exploring my body, feeling sensations that were foreign to me. Feelings so intense that I easily lost track of who I was and why I didn't want him touching me, and then I'd regain my senses next to him in bed too sore to get back up just hoping that I couldn't get pregnant. And then I need to bathe again. He still tries to help me dry off, which often leads to the same thing, but the privacy he gives me during the bathing is a nice little slice of independence he didn't have to give me. So that's nice of him. Wait, that's what that son of a bitch wants me to think.

But recently, I've been walking on my own. Not near stairs, but I've been able to stroll the house myself, pick out my own clothes, and feed myself. He has a chef who, again, doesn't speak English, but he has a chart with images of dishes the Doctor has approved for my dietary needs and I can point one out and it'll be on the table in front of me shortly after. It was really nice of him to know I can't speak the language and consider what my body needs. It made me want to dress nice for him.

So I went to our bedroom, and into the wardrobe to pick a dress to surprise him. As I went through the selection of clothes I was amazed to find so much in my size as, but of course it was bought for me. I even found a cute handbag that had some weight to it, I opened it to find a cell phone. It took a bit to get it to balance in my hand properly, I dropped it once, then fell trying to pick it up. But using both hands I managed to turn it on to find a picture of Olivia with the man I recognized as her husband. I felt an odd tingling between my legs as I looked at him. I tucked it back into the handbag as the Doctor rushed upstairs and helped me to my feet before helping me pick out and slip into a dress for a fancy dinner date.

As we were eating there was a knock at the door, it was Olivia's husband saying her phone pinged here. He put me in high heels so I was too nervous to stand up and when I tried to consider whether I should shout, but it was too much to consider and I started to panic.  The two argued loud enough for me to hear, Olivia's husband said that the Doctor was a stalker and he knew that he was responsible. He demanded a warrant as this was harassment. I slipped my feet out of the heels and stood. The Doctor slammed the door and said it was time for us to move. He approached and wrapped his arms around me, shoving his tongue down my throat and started to touch me in the way that made things hazy. But I resisted for the first time and hit him in the head with my plate. It wasn't hard but enough to knock him down as I ran for the door.

I thought the lack of heels would make running easy, but I wasn't quite there yet as I tumbled to the ground and watched Olivia's husband slip away as I heard the door open, the Doctor was after me. Would it be right to let this man think I'm his wife? But I could carry on as she did... She had the resources to do good... And he could get me help with a professional who isn't psycho or on the payroll of a psycho. I tried to scream. Nothing would come out. The Doctor drew closer. I started to resign myself to my fate, with every last ounce of energy I could muster, I pushed myself back to my feet and began shouting as the Doctor wrapped his arms around me. Olivia's husband heard and ran over, easily taking out the Doctor and taking me to his car. I watched as he detained the Doctor until authorities arrived.

I wanted to tell him, who I was, what happened. But his words were show reassuring and his hand on my leg as he drove me away from the prison I'd been in for God knows how long lulled me to sleep. I've been going through real physical therapy and slowly getting better. I still feel bad for not telling Olivia's husband the truth, they found the scars on my head and determined that he just tried to toy with Olivia's brain, not replace it with someone else's. If I tell him the truth and he kicks me out, I'm alone on the street again, with none of the resources, looking like this. So I decided to start a charity to help rescue and rehabilitate other kidnapping victims, with a focus on the homeless being taken advantage of where I lived. But that's not enough, I have to thank the man who brought me home, who saved me. Luckily I've had a lot of practice learning to love the man that takes care of me.