This is a longform TG transformation fantasy Story. Its the sequel to a story I posted in several places, most notably on Deviant Art. It is highly advised for you to go read that story first before reading this one. I may post the original story in the series once I revise and expand it. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.
The story itself is completed, I am now simply posting them. No need to worry about it not being complete.
Chapter One - An Invitation to Eden
The rooftop garden of the Saint Lucent Luxe offered a spectacle as a viewpoint overlooking the city. It’s opulent glass canopy arched overhead, golden framework gleaming like a crown as the dusk of night approached.
The floor beneath her heels was a swirl of hand-laid mosaic marble, old-world artistry kissed by modern decadence. Curated plants, each chosen with obsessive care, lined the walkways in fragrant arrangements that suggested a private oasis. This was a secret garden hidden in the sky.
For Aidan, it was exactly that.
She had dined alone here for the past two evenings, the sole guest allowed in the rooftop conservatory. A reward from Maximillian after she had agreed to the terms of their arrangement. The moment she’d accepted, he’d moved her into the royal suite, cloistered high above the city. There, she was instructed to rest, to prepare, to indulge. Max had insisted she take full advantage of the hotel’s spa, wardrobe concierge, and private services. And she had gratefully obeyed.
The past few days had passed dreamily for Aidan. Massaged. Pampered. Fed. Adorned. Watched over.
A hulking bodyguard stood discreetly at the far edge of the terrace, a mountain of muscle in an immaculate charcoal suit. He was her silent, ever-present shadow now, and unmistakable reminder of Max’s care. The only other sound came from the string trio seated near the garden’s center, their delicate music meant for her alone.
Max had cleared the entire rooftop for her benefit. No one else had been permitted, not even the elite patrons who had booked weeks in advance. Several had tried. A few had protested. But all had been rebuffed by the hotel staff.
All because of the mysterious guest with the bodyguard who had exclusive rights.
Eden reveled in it.
She saw the curiosity in strangers’ eyes when they spotted her stepping out of the elevator in another impossible gown. She heard the murmurs when she passed through the lobby or descended for her fittings. She felt the fantasy their whispers were crafting about her, swirling in the air and becoming a nectar for her aura to drink.
Inner Eden bloomed in the attention. She whispered through Aidan’s mind, luxuriating in every detail: the weight of diamonds at her throat, the glint of gold at her ankles, the knowing looks from men, the envy from women. She had always been meant for a life like this.
Tonight in particular, she sparkled.
Her gown was liquid silver, backless, the hem floating just above her ankles. Her skin glowed, oiled and perfumed. Her hair coiled in soft, controlled waves. She sipped chilled wine from a crystal glass, the flute catching the candlelight like a prism. Her beauty was on display for herself.
And that’s exactly when Tommie arrived.
His wild brown curls were still defiantly unruly, but somehow he had taken time to actually allow someone to edge them clean. He wore a powder-blue dress shirt, crisp and buttoned to the collar, a narrow black tie peeking beneath a charcoal sweater vest. His white slacks were tailored. So was the euro-cut blazer draped over his shoulders. For once, there were no sneakers; he instead had chosen polished brown dress shoes, stiff and out of place, like a borrowed identity.
Aidan tilted her head, pleased. She placed her fork down with a dainty clink and offered a slow, deliberate clap. “Oh, Tommie,” she purred. “Persistent and well-dressed. I have had a positive influence.”
She tucked a curl behind her ear, flashing him a bright smile .
Tommie didn’t return it.
“It pays to look the part if you want into exclusive places,” he said, eyes scanning the rooftop until they landed on the silent bodyguard posted nearby. “Of course, it also helps when your dad owns the place. The hard part was figuring out which of the hotels he tucked you away in.”
“You’re more charming than you realize,” Aidan replied sweetly. “I’m sure the concierge girls downstairs spilled everything for you. And look at you! You’re like a limited-run imitation of your father. Functional but not quite the same.” She gave a little shrug, as if amused by his effort.
Tommie didn’t flinch. “Yeah, well, I’m not Max. Never was.” He looked past her, eyes distant for a beat. “He always said he should’ve raised me himself. That letting Mom keep me soft was a mistake.”
Aidan tilted her head. “If you still want an apron to hide under, you could always come work for me. I’m sure I could find something delicate for you to do.”
Tommie’s jaw ticked. “The Aidan I knew was clever, but never this cruel. This isn’t your style.”
“The Aidan you knew,” she said, spreading her hands with a slow, elegant gesture, “had no idea how good it could feel to be like this. He didn’t know that your little spell would peel something open inside him. Something beautiful. Wicked.” Her voice lowered, a velvet whisper. “And I told you, I warned you, I wouldn’t let you off the hook.”
“He’s using you.”
“You’ve said that.” Aidan’s smile softened. “And I told you that I want to be used.” The words slipped out smoothly, surprising even her with how easily they came. Just days ago, the idea had revolted her. But now… now, the thought of belonging to Max, of pleasing him, made something coil tight and electric in her belly.
Why did it thrill her?
Because he is worthy, Eden whispered from within. The voice was warm. Certain. A reflection of her desire and her destiny.
“You don’t know him like I do,” Tommie said sharply. “Max isn’t loud like Damien or obvious like Vesper. He’s a surgeon. He gets inside people and rearranges them. You’ll think it was your idea to let him break you.”
Aidan crossed her legs. The image of Max “breaking” her made her cheeks flush, but she swallowed the grin and sipped from her glass. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of ignoring these desires. This…” her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, drunk on sensation, “...this suits me. I don’t know if I should fear it or embrace it but it feels oh so good either way.”
“Marlowe wouldn’t like seeing you like this.”
Aidan raised a brow. “No, I don’t suppose she would.”
Tommie said carefully. “That’s just a guess, but I don’t know for sure. She’s been trying to reach you. She’s worried. I haven’t told her anything. But if you leave with him, I’ll tell her everything.”
Aidan's smile faltered. She sat up straighter, elegance coiling into something icier. “Then do it.” Her voice was flat. Colder than intended. “And while you're at it, tell her everything. Tell her how you started this. How your spell cracked me open. How you handed me over to your father. Tell her she's lost something. Tell her you made it happen.”
“Max is grooming you,” he snapped.
“Yes he is,” Aidan’s smile returned, brighter now, lit by Eden’s wicked truth. “He’s grooming me for success. For worship. For power. And you hate it because you’re not worthy of any of it.”
That silenced him. And in the quiet, Aidan felt her spine straighten with new gravity. Her voice dropped, husky and ominous. “You think you’re fighting a curse. But this isn’t something being done to me. This is me waking up. I’m not running. I’m stepping through the door with my arms wide open.”
She stood. The bodyguard flinched forward, but she raised a hand without looking at him. Her eyes stayed on Tommie.
Her heels clicked softly as she approached Tommie with a dangerous grace in her step. Tommie’s breath caught. The garden suddenly felt warmer. Charged.
She leaned close, her breath soft against his ear.
“Listen, I don’t know what will happen when all of this is over. But if Aidan comes back,” she whispered, “I’ll call. You and Marlowe.”
Tommie’s voice was barely a murmur. “And if he doesn’t?”
She kissed his cheek. A radiant, tragic little gesture. “Then you’ll call me Eden. And you’ll learn to love me all the same.”
She pulled back, her expression demure. Hands folded at her waist like a lady awaiting a proposal.
Tommie stared at her for a moment longer. Then he turned and walked away, pausing once before vanishing through the rooftop door.
Aidan turned back toward the window, catching her reflection in the glass.
Good girl, Inner-Eden whispered. And this time, Aidan smiled.
“We are 30 minutes away from landing,” the pilot crackled over the private jet’s intercom. “If you look to the right side of the plane, you should be able to see Veritas Isle.”
Aidan shifted in her seat, fingers fluttering to the window. The late-afternoon light glinted off the water below, turning the sea into molten gold. Four islands floated like gems in an impossibly blue tropical ocean but Veritas Isle shimmered with a dominating prominence that shaded the other three smaller islands. Even from this distance, its white cliffs and lush emerald heart drew the eye. It was stunning. Alive. Too vivid to be real.
“You own Veritas Isle?” she asked Max, her voice light but tinged with awe.
Max gave a slow, indulgent smile. “I own all four. Veritas is just the one everyone remembers.”
He moved beside her, leaning over to look. Aidan became instantly aware of his proximity. The warmth of his body, the brush of his suit against her arm, and that impossible scent of amber, spice mixing with his natural control. Her thighs pressed together before she could stop herself.
“That one to the northeast is Luxe Isle,” he said, his baritone brushing her ear like silk. “High-end boutiques, salons, spas, and yes, cafés I think you’ll find... divine.”
He gestured again. “Southeast, that’s Fae Isle. Restricted. It’s sacred to those of old blood and arcane lineage. Rituals are performed there, things older than law or language.”
“And nestled between them,” he murmured, “Aurum Isle—my sanctum. You’ll only go there when I bring you.”
Aidan swallowed. Something about how he said sanctum made her skin warm beneath her clothes. She didn’t ask for more.
“But our stay is here, at my villa in Veritas Bay. It’s adjacent to the main resort, Château du Soleil. I can participate in all the festivities and still have my own space. Close to the power, close to the beauty but still very private.”
Private. The word echoed inside her, setting off a trembling spark low in her belly.
As the plane touched down, the island seemed to breathe with a pulse that rippled through Aidan’s bones. The heat wasn't oppressive but the warmth clung to her skin, anointing her with the island scents of salt and jasmine permeating in the air. And beneath it, something electric and alive. She caught a shimmer in the air outside the window, the light bending differently, wavering.
Aidan blinked. “Did you see that?”
Max glanced sideways. “The island hums with magic. Veritas and her sisters rest atop a leyline convergence. This place was sacred long before it was mine.”
“Why did you buy it?”
“I didn’t buy it,” he said. “I claimed it. Recognized it. Crafted it into what it was always meant to be; a private haven for the elite, the gifted, the beautiful. And now…” He turned and looked at her with a dark glint. “You.”
The black Range Rover awaited them, ready to take them to Max’s villa.
Veritas wasn’t just beautiful, it was majestic. Villas of old-world stone and sun-washed stucco bloomed. Tropical gardens bordered cobblestone roads, but everything felt … too deliberate. Too controlled.
“It’s all been shaped,” Aidan whispered, more to herself.
Max nodded. “Magic attracts power. Power reshapes the world.”
She felt energy coiling in her belly. A hunger fluttered within her, tingling along with her fingers. Her very cells were soaking in the energy here, feeding the ancient part of her that made her feminine.
This is where I thrive, Eden’s aura purred within.
The villa came into view as they wound up the hill through wrought iron gates. A grand estate on a hill crowning the busy town and establishing Maxillian’s place at the top of the hierarchy. White marble statues caught the sunlight, casting dramatic shadows across manicured hedges. Vines of crimson roses spilled over stone balconies. The air was rich with blossoms and pleasure.
As the car pulled into the circular drive, Aidan gasped softly.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Max said as he helped her from the car. His hand touched the small of her back with a light, guiding nudge. A spark arced through her. Aidan visibly shivered.
“Welcome home, Lady Eden.”
Her heart skipped. Lady Eden.
“That’s… perfect,” she whispered, not even realizing the words had left her lips.
A row of uniformed staff stood at attention as they walked the stone path to the villa. Each bowed subtly, reverently.
“Welcome, Lady Eden.”
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
Their voices threaded into her thoughts. She shouldn’t like it—but she did. God, she did.
“Why do they call me that?” she murmured.
“I instructed them to,” Max said smoothly. “Lady Eden. Ms. Eden. No less.”
She shivered.
“Even if I asked them to stop?”
“They wouldn’t. But I suspect you wouldn’t want them to.”
“I have no intention of stopping them,” she admitted, voice breathy.
They passed a gilded mirror in one of the entryway halls and Aidan froze.
She turned, blinking, lips parting.
It was her, but not quite. Not the way she had been before leaving the hotel.
Her body was softer, more sculpted in all the right ways. Her curves sang beneath the tailored travel dress she wore. Her lips were fuller, lush and pink. Her cheekbones sat higher, her jawline refined to a gentle, feminine strength. Her waist seemed smaller, her posture more regal. She looked like someone who belonged on magazine covers. Something within her soul knew she was going to grow more beautiful.
“I…” she touched her face. “I didn’t look like this this morning.”
“You’re becoming what you were meant to be,” Max said, his tone low, reverent. “The island feeds magical energy. The closer you are to a source, the easier it is for the real you to surface.”
Her fingers grazed the mirror. She couldn’t look away.
“I still think of myself as Aidan,” she said softly. “But I don’t… feel male anymore. I haven’t in a while.”
Max’s fingers brushed the small of her back again, the gesture subtly possessive. “You’re blossoming, Eden. That name fits your soul. Soon it’ll fit your body completely.”
They moved through the villa, Max pointing out features as he introduced her to the amenities and staff. Every surface gleamed. Every wall hung with curated art, or magical sigils that buzzed faintly if she looked too long. Something about the house pulsed like a heartbeat.
But her own rhythm kept syncing with him.
His presence pulled at her, and she found herself walking slightly behind, drawn by his voice, his scent, undone by the way he touched her arm to guide her through a corridor. Each touch sent a flutter of sensual heat through her stomach, urging her to be obedient to his whims.
He stopped by a window and turned to her.
“There will be rules,” he said, and lifted a single finger.
“No contact with Tommie. I don’t want him interfering. His guilt might make him reckless.”
She nodded, dizzied by how easy it was to agree.
“Second,” he added, “you’ll obey my instructions, without question. For the next two days, indulge. Learn. Enjoy what I’ve built here. Get used to being pampered. You’ll need it, later.”
“I accept,” she said, breathless. “You’ve earned my trust, and I feel…”
She hesitated. Then, honestly: “I feel like I belong here. To you.”
He raised a third finger, then curled it inward.
“You do. You’re mine, Eden. My guest. My creation. My possession.”
Her knees nearly gave.
Arousal, heat, and a dizzying sense of surrender filled her as she bowed her head.
“I am yours.”
He touched her chin, lifting it. His thumb ghosted over her lips.
“You’ll soon learn what that truly means.”
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