Lewis stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the towering luxury inn before him, its blend of traditional Japanese architecture and elegant modern touches striking a perfect balance. His manager had truly outdone herself this time. The Shimizu Onsen Retreat, nestled in the lush Kurokawa Valley, was renowned for its impeccable hospitality and mineral-rich hot springs. It was said to offer an experience that transcended even the most luxurious ryokans in Japan.

As he walked through the beautifully designed lobby, the sound of a nearby stream flowing beneath the wooden walkway caught his attention, accompanied by the soothing murmur of bamboo fountains. The scent of hinoki wood and soft incense filled the air, wrapping around his senses like a warm embrace. Graceful attendants clad in silk kimonos greeted him with deep bows and melodic calls of “Irasshaimase!” Their elegant poise and radiant smiles had an air of timeless charm, sparking a wistful admiration within him. There was something about their quiet refinement and delicate beauty that always tugged at his heartstrings.

After being shown to his suite, Lewis stepped onto the private balcony and was greeted by a stunning panorama of the surrounding pine-forested mountains and the gently illuminated inn stretching along the riverside. The scene was like something out of a dream—a perfect harmony of natural beauty and architectural grace. But what he was truly looking forward to lay just a short walk from his room: the onsen.

The Shimizu Onsen’s hot springs were legendary, their mineral-rich waters said to rejuvenate both body and spirit. According to the hotel’s guide, the baths were reserved exclusively for guests after 10 p.m. each night, ensuring an atmosphere of peace and privacy. The thought of sinking into the steaming pools, letting the stress of travel melt away under the moonlit sky, sent a shiver of anticipation through him.

Being a fairly modest man, Lewis decided to wait until much later to visit the baths, when he’d have the place all to himself. As the hotel quieted down and the other guests retired for the evening, he donned the provided yukata robe and made his way down to the onsen at around 2am.

The men’s and women’s entrances were marked only with Japanese characters. Lewis squinted at them, the elegant kanji looking more like artistic squiggles to his untrained eye. After a moment of hesitation, he shrugged and pushed through the door on the right, figuring he’d just try his luck.

Inside, the humid air was perfumed with the scent of cypress wood. Lewis undressed in the changing area, carefully folding his robe and placing it in a basket. His pale, flabby body looked out of place in the traditional Japanese setting.

Completely naked now, he padded into the dimly lit bathing area. A variety of baths stretched out before him, their mineral-rich waters shimmering under soft lantern light. One particular pool immediately caught his attention—a picturesque bath fed by cascading streams from wooden aqueducts, its rocky edges coated in a white mineral crust. The turquoise water seemed to glow faintly in the mist, with steam rising from its surface in delicate, swirling wisps.

He dipped a toe in to test the heat, then let out a low groan as he sank into the steaming water. It stung his skin at first but quickly gave way to a bone-deep sense of relaxation. The natural spring water seemed to leach the tension right out of his muscles, swirling around him like a soothing embrace.

As he reclined against the smooth stones, letting the water lap at his chest, a strange lethargy began to overtake Lewis. Maybe it was the jet lag catching up with him. Or maybe the minerals were having an unusually potent effect. But try as he might to keep his eyes open, he felt himself slipping irresistibly into slumber, there in the middle of the onsen.

The warm water enveloped him like a comforting cocoon as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Lewis tried to fight it, knowing he shouldn’t fall asleep here, but it was a losing battle. The springs’ heat seeped into his very core, dissolving his willpower like sugar in tea. With one last drowsy blink, Lewis succumbed to the irresistible pull of sleep, his body going slack in the water. There, alone in the deserted onsen in the middle of the night, he drifted off into a deep, spellbinding slumber…

It started at his feet.

As Lewis slept, oblivious, his size 11 feet began to warp and shift. Bones crunched and compressed, the sound like twigs snapping in a silent forest. His arches raised higher and higher until they curved into dainty slopes. Rough, calloused skin smoothed and softened, all hard edges melting away until only baby-soft flesh remained. Coarse hair receded, revealing silky expanses of creamy Asian skin.

His feet shrank smaller and smaller, toes shortening into cute little nubs as the joints popped and crackled. When the changes finally ceased, he was left with delicate size 6 feet, slender and unmistakably feminine. Ten little piggies, just begging to be worshipped.

The changes crept up his legs like a sensual caress. Muscles and sinew shifted beneath the skin, chunky calves and thighs slimming down into lithe, shapely limbs. Flesh rippled and wobbled as the underlying fat rearranged itself, depositing in all the right places to grant him coveted thigh gap. Sporty male contours sank into soft, pliant curves – an alluring, womanly silhouette taking shape. Skin lightened into a flawless Asian complexion.

Lewis’ waist pinched inward as his hips widened with an audible pop, like the snapping of a wasp-thin corset. His boxy midsection pulled tight, abs and belly button vanishing beneath a flat expanse of porcelain skin. Love handles and spare tire melted away like butter on a hot skillet, replaced by a dainty hourglass figure that would be the envy of any woman.

His ass ballooned outward, perky and heart-shaped. Two globes of toned yet yielding flesh, perfectly proportioned and practically begging to be squeezed. The cleft between deepened into an enticing valley, just made for nestling a lover’s face. Cellulite and imperfections smoothed into flawless, peach-like skin.

Reaching his crotch, his balls began to tingle and ache. They pulled upward as if tugged by an invisible hand, the skin stretching obscenely before they disappeared into his body with a slick schlorp sound. At the same time, his flaccid cock started to swell and lengthen, inflating rapidly. It grew thicker and harder, standing at full attention – the last hurrah of his manhood.

Then with a full body shudder, his erect dick erupted in orgasm, splattering the water. Thick ropes of pearly cum spurted into the steaming pool, the viscous fluid quickly dissolving into opalescent swirls. Each spurt seemed to drain his rigid shaft, the once proud pillar of masculinity withering and shrinking until nothing remained but a smooth, blank mound.

As the final drop of semen dribbled from the tip, his crotch restructured itself with a wet squelch. The skin split open before inverting, folds of soft pink flesh blossoming forth. They arranged themselves into glistening, plump outer labia, crowned by a cute little clitoral hood. His taint tore open to form a tight slit, a new channel leading deep inside him to a freshly formed womb. A velvety pussy, as inviting as it was foreign.

Rising upward, his torso narrowed and lengthened, ribs cinching into a dainty cage. Shoulder blades shifted and compressed, grinding like a mortar and pestle. Pectoral muscles withered away as twin mounds erupted from his chest, rapidly swelling into large, pert breasts. The new tits jiggled and swayed with the slightest movement, perfect handfuls capped by puffy nipples that stiffened in the steamy air. Areolae puffed up and darkened into dusky coins.

His arms lost their musculature, biceps and triceps atrophying until all that remained were slim, willowy limbs. Hands shrank and softened, fingers lengthening into tapered, elegant digits, nails extending into glossy pink ovals. Slender wrists and dainty palms, the picture of Asian femininity.

Reaching his head, his square jawline rounded out, the bone shaving itself down. The new heart-shaped face would have looked at home on any Japanese idol. Cheekbones shifted higher while his nose shrank into a pert button, nostrils daintily flaring with each breath. Thin, masculine lips plumped up, becoming lush and kissable. A tingling in his vocal cords heralded a jump in pitch – now high and melodic, unmistakably female.

His eyes reshaped themselves behind closed lids – rounder, larger, upturned at the corners. Epicanthic folds formed, creating the single eyelids so common among Asians. Eyelashes lengthened into dark, dense curtains. Brows thinned into delicate arches, shaped to quizzical tilt. His iris darkened to a deep chestnut hue.

Finally, his hair began to grow at a supernatural rate. The wiry brown strands straightened and darkened to a glossy black, flowing from his scalp in an inky waterfall. It spilled over his shoulders and back in a silky curtain, the ends swishing gently in the water. When the growth finally ceased, his crowning glory reached the pert globes of his ass, the picture of a traditional Japanese beauty.

The changes complete, Lewis slumbered on, blissfully unaware of the alterations that had swept through his body. His new form was a vision of feminine perfection, all soft curves and velvety expanses. The Caucasian man had been thoroughly erased, every inch of him rewritten into an exquisite Japanese flower. A living work of art, just waiting to be plucked…

Daylight was the first thing that Lewis noticed when he woke up. It was a bright and beautiful day, but soon the realization crashed into him. If it was daylight, how long had he been asleep? The hot water continued to soothe him, even though he must have been in the bath for hours by now. His whole body felt warm and relaxed, other than his feet that tasted the cool air and must have been outside of the water.

Lewis didn’t see his feet where he expected them; instead, in front of him was a delicate and pale pair of feet. The cute toes of a woman. He wiggled his toe and watched as the cute toes in front of him reacted and wiggled too. Lewis then tried to move his foot up and watched as the feminine foot in front of him moved exactly like he wanted.

He couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening, so he moved his feet back under the water (Lewis tried to ignore the slender female feet moving under the water at the exact same time) and decided to look at his hands. What he saw did not make him feel any better.

Lewis, like all people, knew his hands very well and these were not his hands. They moved like his hands, obeying his every command, but the small, smooth, and delicate fingers he was looking at were not his. They were beautiful and feminine: the hands of a woman. A good fit for the pale feet he saw earlier.

Finally, it dawned on him: these hands were his, those feet were his. His body had changed. He spoke, a little shocked, as a cute feminine voice left his lips: “Am I a gaaru…?” The Engrish word felt strange on his tongue. Before he could dwell on this more, he heard the soft patter of bare feet against the tiled floor. He looked around and watched as a woman started to get in the same bath as him, dipping her legs in the soothing water.

Lewis felt a little silly as he realized that he could have brought a towel all along, as this woman was carefully wrapped in one. This feeling of silliness turned to embarrassment as she began to strip the towel away. She called to Lewis as she slipped into the water, fully naked: “Ohayou gozaimasu! (Good morning!)”

“G-Guddo moningu!” Lewis stammered back, the English words coming out garbled and accented. Why was Japanese invading his mind?

“Aa, kimochi! (Ah, this feeling!)” said the girl, relaxation clearly filling her body as she let the water do its magic. Lewis watched her carefully, seeing she was clearly beautiful. Beautiful… Beautiful and naked. Lewis should have felt some kind of attraction, but he didn’t. His new body didn’t react at all to the presence of this naked and gorgeous Japanese woman. If anything, Lewis just felt a sense of ease and comfort, like they were sisters in the bath together.

The woman, now happily settled in the bath, turned her attention to Lewis. “Kirei… (Pretty…)”

Lewis felt himself blush as he heard these words. The woman seemed to take this as embarrassment. “A, gomen. Hajimemashite. Watashi wa Saeki Aoi desu. Yoroshiku! (Ah, sorry. Nice to meet you, I am Aoi Saeki.)”

Lewis effortlessly understood her and once again felt a reply slip from his lips: “Watashi wa Ru… Ru… Reina desu. Sa-Sakurai Reina desu. Hajimemashite.” (I am Le… Ru… Reina. Sakurai Reina. Nice to meet you.)

Lewis didn’t know where that name came from; he was feeling more and more confused as he looked at Aoi. Japanese was invading his mind as English rapidly slipped away from him. Suddenly he felt himself panic. Something was wrong. A feeling of relaxation was gripping him, and he knew it was dangerous. He had to do something about it. Before… Before it is too late. He knew if he didn’t act he would be lost.

He fought against the relaxation and stood up, his movements graceful and fluid despite the rising panic. As he emerged from the water, he couldn’t help but notice how his perky breasts bounced and swayed, droplets of water cascading down his soft skin. His dainty feet pattered against the wet tile, a staccato beat of feminine delicacy.

Aoi’s voice followed after Lewis as he left the bathhouse. “Sakurai-san, daijoubu desu ka!? (Sakurai-San, are you okay!?)”

Lewis could now read the signs as he left; he had been in the women’s bath all along. He ran into the changing room, his slender legs carrying him with a lightness and agility that felt alien. Grabbing a towel, he began to dry himself frantically, as if he could somehow rub away the changes. But as his hands roamed over his body, he couldn’t ignore the foreign yet alluring landscape of curves and valleys.

Soft, pillowy breasts with nipples that pebbled under his touch. A narrow waist flaring out into childbearing hips. Silky smooth skin without a single blemish or hair. Between his legs, his probing fingers found only a plush, virgin mound – his manhood erased as if it had never existed. He was, from head to toe, a beautiful Japanese maiden.

Trembling, Lewis forced himself to approach the mirror, terrified of what he would see but needing to confirm this unreal reality. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then opened them to stare at his reflection. A lovely, heart-shaped face gazed back at him, framed by glossy black hair that fell to his slim waist. High cheekbones, a button nose, rosebud lips – features as delicate as a porcelain doll’s. But it was the eyes that captured him – large, dark, and unmistakably Asian, they were the eyes of a stranger. The eyes of Sakurai Reina.

Lewis stared into the mirror, transfixed by the beautiful Japanese woman gazing back at him. “Kirei… (Pretty…)” he whispered, the words tumbling from his lips unbidden. His mind felt hazy, thoughts sluggish like they were wading through thick honey. English, once as natural as breathing, now felt clunky and foreign on his tongue.

“I… Watashi wa… Ru… Reina…” The words came easier now, the Japanese syllables fitting perfectly in his mouth like they were always meant to be there. Of course she was Reina. Sakurai Reina. What else could she be? The man called Lewis felt like a distant dream, fading with each passing second.

Reina shook her head, dispelling the last lingering cobwebs of confusion. A serene smile spread across her face as the final pieces of her identity clicked into place. She was Reina, she had always been Reina. Any memories to the contrary were clearly just silly fantasies conjured up by the heat of the onsen.

Speaking of which… why had she acted that way earlier? Running off like that had been terribly rude to Aoi-san. She had to go back and apologize for her strange behavior. It was the polite thing to do.

Wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel, Reina padded back to the onsen, her steps light and graceful. The slap of her dainty feet against the damp tile was a delicate staccato, a feminine counterpoint to the soft sway of her hips. She found Aoi still soaking in the same bath, a look of concern marring her pretty features.

“Sumimasen, Saeki-san,” Reina said with a deep, respectful bow, her towel slipping a bit to reveal the creamy slopes of her breasts. “Watashi no taido ga warukatta. Hontou ni moushiwake arimasen deshita.” (I’m sorry, Miss Saeki. My attitude was poor. It was truly inexcusable.)

Aoi’s face brightened with a relieved smile and she waved off Reina’s apology with a graceful hand. “Ii no yo, kinishinaide.” (It’s fine, don’t worry about it.) She patted the steaming water beside her invitingly. “Mou daijoubu? Issho ni haitte, yukkuri oshaberi shiyou!” (Are you okay now? Come in and let’s chat leisurely!)

Reina smiled back, feeling a rush of affection for her new friend. She slipped into the water beside Aoi, sighing contentedly as the soothing heat embraced her from the neck down. The two women fell into easy conversation, chatting and laughing like they had known each other for years rather than minutes.

As they talked, Reina’s eyes fell on the sign beside the bath: 女神の湯 (Megami no Yu). The Goddess Spring. Beneath the elegant kanji was a smaller warning: Kono yu wa dansei genkin desu. Hairu dansei wa josei ni kaeraremasu. (This bath is strictly forbidden to men. Any man who enters will be changed into a woman.)

Reina smirked at the sign, a tinkling giggle escaping her lips. What a silly superstition. As if a man would ever dare to enter the women’s bath! The very idea was absurd. Although she supposed an extra warning couldn’t hurt – some men could be so foolishly persistent in their perversions.

Time seemed to melt away as Reina and Aoi bonded, their musical laughter echoing off the tiled walls and mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. They discussed fashion and gossip, swapped skincare tips and boyfriend woes, their conversation flowing as naturally as the mineral-rich waters around them. By the time they finally emerged, pruned and glowing, Reina felt like she had known Aoi for decades. They exchanged contact information, promising to meet up again soon for shopping, mani-pedis, and intimate girl talk over cocktails.

In the days and weeks that followed, Reina settled into her new life with surprising ease. It was as if she had always been this way – a pretty, vivacious Japanese woman with a close circle of female friends and a packed social calendar.

Oh, there were occasional reminders of that strange fugue state in the onsen. Her email address still contained the name “Lewis” for some inexplicable reason. But Reina just giggled whenever she saw it. Lewis? Probably some ex-boyfriend she’d rather forget. What a silly, foreign-sounding name! She really ought to update her contact info one of these days.

But that was a task for another time. For now, Reina was content to simply live her life to the fullest. A life of laughter and love, of deep female friendships and the simple joys of being a woman. The spring had washed away all that was false, leaving only her true self behind – a self that was happier and more fulfilled than she had ever dreamed possible.

And if sometimes, in the depths of the night, she dreamed of a distant land and a different body… well, those were just dreams. Fleeting phantasms, wisps of smoke that faded in the light of dawn. Sakurai Reina was her reality now – a reality as solid and unshakeable as the tiles beneath her feet. And she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

終わり (Owari) (The End)