Martin was about to sit down with the evening paper, after his solitary evening meal, when a flyer fell out of it. The flyer advertised a new club and offered free admission that night only. The pictures of skimpily dressed waitresses and the half price drinks on offer made his mind up. He would go, if only to enjoy the views!
Besides, there may well be some women he could insult or abuse. There could always be one he could abduct to his secret place in the old abandoned warehouse to tie up and rape before torturing her to death. He was the Seattle Ripper that the police had been hunting for many months. Each month the police found another mutilated young woman, marked with a bloody "R" cut into her flesh.
Arriving at the club, Martin handed over the flyer and wandered around, picking at the food and drinking half price whiskey. The waitresses were as promised by the flyer, all very pretty, dressed alike in black or red satin maid mini-dresses, complete with frilly white aprons and matching panties. The panties were those of dreams, Martin thought, they were so white as to be dazzling and not only did they have frilled edgings, but had the lace trimmings on the lower part of the maids' bottoms. A fetish's dream when put together with the knee-high spike heeled boots!
The waitress was carrying a heavy tray of drinks and canapés toward a group of people when Martin decided to have some fun with the young girl. As she passed him, he hooked his foot around her ankle and gently pulled. The girl had no chance. She tripped, and the tray, food and all, went flying. Somehow, none of the food actually hit the people that Martin had expected to get plastered, strange.
The girl, short red skirt rucked up over her pert little bottom, exposing crystal white frilled panties over black opaque tights, flushed as red as her mini-dress as she tried to get to her feet before her boss arrived.
Martin stood behind her enjoying the view when another guest intervened and helped the girl to her feet. He was tall, well built, just going to fat a little. He was either quite strong or the girl was lighter than Martin would have expected, as he lifted her to her feet seemingly without any visible effort. He was tall; the girl hardly came up to his jacket breast pocket. He must have had a hell of a view down the waitresses' bodice, Martin thought.
The stranger fussed a little over the girl, making sure that she was okay to carry on, that she wasn't injured, and finally handed her tray back to her. Martin could not believe his eyes; all the food on plates and dishes, and all the drinks in their glasses were in place, not a drop spilt. Impossible, he thought, after the fall, it must have been a spare tray, yet where was the girl's original tray then?
The stranger approached Martin, gave him a severe look, nodded and moved on. Martin felt quite unnerved after that and decided to call it a night. Perhaps the hunting would be better on his way home, or maybe he would come back out later that night.
He collected his coat from the cloakroom, and as Martin left, he noticed that the girl he had tripped was also leaving, still dressed in her red maid mini-dress and high heeled boots. She also collected her coat, which just covered the bottom hem of her dress, leaving her elegant long legs exposed. He walked to the corner, stepped around out of sight, then stood waiting to see if she would come his way or if he would have to return past the club to follow her. The clip-clip of her heels on the pavement told him she was indeed coming his way, his luck had changed! Tonight was going to be wonderful, for him. She would not enjoy tonight as much as Martin was going to at all.
The girl rounded the corner and Martin stepped away from the wall, clasping her in his arms from behind, one hand covering the girl's mouth so she could not scream, the other already holding his knife in front of her face.
He quickly whispered in her ear, "Don't scream or struggle, or I'll cut your throat here and now! Come quietly, and you may walk away later on." He lied of course, he had no intention of letting the girl go afterwards, he just wanted her alive, for a while anyway, it was so much more fun when they were alive.
The girl stiffened, then carefully nodded and allowed herself to be pulled into the back alley where Martin tied her hands behind her back, then quickly pulling a length of material out of his pocket, tied it around her face, pulling it tightly into her mouth, forcing her lips wide, gagging her so not a sound could escape.
Pushing her, none too gently, Martin took her to his car, where he forced her onto the back seat, tying her feet before closing the door on her. He climbed in the driver's door, started the car and drove to the abandoned warehouse he had almost made his second home. Checking that there was no one watching, he reached in the back door, cutting the bonds around the girl's legs, then pulling her out and leading her into the warehouse. "Upstairs," he growled, pushing her toward the staircase.
He hung back a little as she led the way upstairs, sniffling a little in fear. The view of her pert bottom wiggling it's way up the stairs exposing the frills on her white panties as she walked up was awesome. It was almost as if she was deliberately trying to excite him.
At the top of the stairs, she paused until Martin pushed her in the direction of the chair bolted to the middle of the open floor. She tried to resist, but he was stronger and soon had her sitting in the chair, her arms hooked over the back and tied to a ring placed there especially for that purpose. He was humming to himself as he tied her feet to the chair's front legs; by the time he had finished, the poor girl could not move.
He stood back and admired both the girl and his handiwork. Her short red dress was pulled up, exposing her white panties covering her crotch, the tension on her arms, thrusting her bosom forward and the rope looped around her throat held her head very still.
Yet, there was something not quite right. Martin was unsure what it was, so he drew out his knife again and started to draw it gently across her face, blade away so it did not cut, not yet. That was what was wrong! She was not scared, her eyes where not darting from side to side, trying to find help or rescue, they simply stared at him, cold and aloof.
In fact, the stare reminded Martin of the stranger back at the club! Her eyes seemed to get bigger, blacker and deeper, and Martin felt himself grow dizzy.
When his vision cleared, he found himself sitting in the chair looking up at the stranger from the club. Martin tried to get up, but he was tied just as tightly as the girl had been. He tried to talk, but the gag which had prevented her from making a sound, now prevented him from doing so just as well. His head was immobilized, secured via the rope tied firmly around his neck, so he couldn't see any of his body. However, he could feel his feet and legs constrained within boots with very high arches. What the hell... 
"So, my 'friend', you thought you could spoil my launch party for my club, did you?! Then, to top it all, you thought that you could take one of MY girls to rape, mutilate and murder, just like you did so many others? No, Martin, no more Seattle Ripper. No more attacking the girls, nor abusing them. Why do you think you received the flyer when no one else in your block did? Just so that we would have the chance to meet," the tall stranger said.
Martin just had to sit there and listen, trying to understand what had happened to him. How on Earth had he changed places with the girl, and where was the girl, for that matter? And what the hell? What was he wearing, for God's sake?
"So let me explain what is going to happen to you now. Are you listening? Are you sitting comfortably? Good, then I'll begin. What's that, no, you're not sitting comfortably? Shame. It's how you treat all your guests here, isn't it? Put up with it, they all had to!
"Now, as you may have realized, you are now dressed as the waitress was a few minutes ago, and in case you are wondering, that was me! Me, well, I suppose you could say that I am a wizard. Yes, Martin, magic really does exist, and for you, existence is really going to suck from now on!
"Your costume will be a part of you for as long as I deem fit. You will not be able to remove it, only tights and panties, and those only to go to the toilet. You will remain male in your crotch, though you will dress and act as a female waitress in one of my new clubs. You will wear only female clothing, really sexy female clothing, at that. Your bra will be frilly and lacy, you will need it to support your new voluptuous breasts, which are actually real. Your panties will be fetish lacy maid panties. Pure white, with ruffs on the rear, and a rather interesting insert inside them, again, at the rear. Apart from acting as a butt plug, you will find it also aids you in walking correctly as a maid. Who knows, I may even activate it from time to time. Yes, it vibrates by remote control! You will serve drinks, flirt with the customers, sit on their knees if they so wish, and allow them to play with your breasts. If they wish to put their hands up your skirt, you will allow them to do so. You may even find you enjoy it in the end.
"If you spill anything, perhaps when your butt plug is activated, you will be punished! You will rapidly find yourself suspended by the arms, still dressed as a maid, and either I or one of my trusted minions will enjoy caning you until the color of your bottom matches your maids dress. If when you spill something it hits a customer, then you will be suspended so that your feet do NOT touch the ground; if on the other hand, any spillage misses the customers, you may, at my discretion, find your toes reach the ground, but only at my discretion. Oh yes," here he smiled, "at the moment, your boots have only three-inch heels; annoy or defy me, and you will find that they grow. Imagine trying to walk and serve drinks, with six or seven-inch heels!
"Now, the one problem is your face, it is obviously male, and although I could change it to female, and of a more pleasing aspect, I would rather you wore a special face mask. Like your costume, you will not be able to remove it. The only time that will be allowed is to eat, and you will only do that when I permit it. Basically, when the club is closed. There is one thing about this mask I will give you; you will be unable to speak whilst wearing it. Also, try not to get the eye holes blocked, else you will probably suffocate before anyone realizes, as you will not be able to cry for help," the stranger finished.
He took his hands from behind his back, and in one was a white latex female face mask with parts painted to look like very basic makeup,
mainly around the lips and eyes. Martin tried to struggle, but the ropes holding him in place prevented much movement, and the mask was placed on his face. The sides were drawn up and over his head, then he could feel it being laced tightly into place. He then felt something additional being stretched into place atop his head.
Martin could only sit there helplessly as the mask took the place of his gag, seemingly molding itself to the contours of his face, sealing itself to his skin. As it did so, he became aware of deep brown long hair cascading down the side of the mask, also down his back to below his shoulders.
"By the way, in case you think you can try to escape or tell anyone about this, or indeed, try to harm anyone, let me assure you that you will find this quite impossible. My magic is more than strong enough to control your criminal urges. After all, what are you going to tell anyone? That you are the Seattle Ripper, and I forced you by magic to become a waitress in one of my clubs? I think not!
"Now, stand up and come with me to your new life as one of my waitresses. Perhaps, if you please me over the next twenty to thirty years, I may allow you your freedom, one day."
So saying, the stranger waved his hands and the ropes binding Martin fell away, allowing him to stand and finally look down upon his lower body. Prick hidden in his crotch notwithstanding, what he saw was a large breasted perfect picture of femininity. He found himself compelled to stand as instructed, teetering somewhat in the strangeness of the high heeled boots at first, not to mention the butt plug rammed right up inside of him.
"Don't worry, Martin, you will soon get used to them. Oh yes, your name. I think that you will in future be known as Martina. You will answer to that and that alone from this day hence. Now come, let us away to the Blue Oyster Club where you will work for me, Metastopheles, your Master!"
Martina could only nod and curtsey to her new Master as she followed him to her new life as the one thing Martin lusted for the most, an enticingly clad female waitress.
The end.
