A trope as old as fiction, in order to gain ownership of an abandoned mansion, a young man must spend one night inside. However, the resident ghost, the spirit of a teenage heiress, has other plans. (Written as a request for a fan over on DeviantArt)

The mansion had been abandoned for close to twenty-five years, after a freak accident left the daughter of wealthy industrialists dead. Instead of remaining in the house that killed their daughter, they instead chose to leave it, and moved onto parts unknown. The house went into the hands of several land developers, but for some unexplained reason, none of them ever chose to knock it down and develop the land. Eventually, one developer got fed up with the game of "Musical Deeds" that they had been playing and decided to make some profit off of the mansion. They held a mail-in contest and handed over the deed to the mansion to one lucky winner. And that winner was James Shelton. He had entered the contest on a lark, never expecting to actually win. But naturally, there was a catch.

The winner, in order to claim their prize, had to spend a single night living in the mansion. Predictable, but James didn't believe in the supernatural, so with sleeping bag and a night's supply of food and water in tow, James made his way through the front doors.

"One night here? This'll be easy..." James remarked to himself.

Sure, the mansion was falling apart, but he was a fairly adept craftsman, even at the age of 18, so he figured he could handle it. After all, who didn't want a fixer-upper?

James looked around the first floor, checking the structural integrity of the floorboards, checking doors and windows, but all the while he couldn't shake a vague feeling that he was being watched. Unknown to him, hovering over James was the spectral form of a teenage girl.

Leighton Vanderport was once the heiress to a vast industrial fortune, but now she was simply an un-departed spirit, still tethered to the mortal realm because of "unfinished business", not that she had ever figured out what that business was. She was only able to wander in the confines of the mansion, and after twenty years, she'd had enough. She had tried to make contact with her parents, but that had only resulted in them leaving in fear. The succession of land developers who had entered the mansion suffered much the same fate. No one could see Leighton, and she was always left alone. Not that she necessarily minded, those developers were always lame old men. But Leighton Vanderport was a girl who was very used to getting her way. When the last developer visited, Leighton learned that she had a peculiar ability, in addition to manipulation of objects, which she used to try to communicate, she could briefly override the consciousness of living people, giving them ideas. She wanted a friend, and she was intent to get one. She wasn't too picky, just wanting someone around her biological age, and only one person in the contest fit the description. James Shelton.

"Time to play..." Leighton giggled.

James walked into the kitchen and looked around. Most of the silverware and plates had been taken when the Vanderports left, but a few scant items remained. James started to browse through the cabinets when he heard sound behind him. He turned around in time to see a plate fall onto the ground.

"Shit!" James jumped.

Leighton giggled as she watched from above.

"Okay, just calm down, there's no such thing as ghosts..." James muttered.

"We'll see about that!" Leighton waved her hand and a kitchen drawer slammed open, causing James to jump once more.

"It's just an old house..." James said to himself. "An old house with creaky counters and drawers that open themselves..."

The kitchen began to shake as the lights started to flicker. Lights that shouldn't work because the electricity was cut ages ago. James had only one thing on his mind.

"This place really is haunted! I'm outta here! Screw the contest!" James quickly rushed for the front door, but found it surreptitiously locked. "How?"

James quickly checked all the windows on the first floor, all the while Leighton followed him, causing mayhem and mischief as she giggled in delight. She hadn't had this much fun in ages. James took notice of the laughter and got even more scared.

"Think, James, think..." James tried to formulate another escape route.

Suddenly, he remembered something he had seen on his way up the driveway.

"There's a balcony upstairs!" James exclaimed. "It's a long way down, but it beats being killed by a ghost!"

James rushed up the staircase and began checking all the upstairs doors, but all of them were locked. The spectral giggling got louder and James cowered at the end of the hall until a door slowly creaked open. James approached it, it was the room with the balcony. On the door was an engraved plaque with the name "Leighton" etched into it in a delicate, elegant script. James hesitantly entered the room.

It was a stereotypical teenage girl's room, untouched by the ravages of age, unlike the rest of the house. Pink wallpaper, four post canopy bed, pink shag carpet, posters for boy bands and women's sports stars, a vanity strewn with various types of cosmetics, and a closet filled to the brim with clothes. This was the domain of a girl who wanted for nothing in life.

And the door to the balcony was open! James started running towards it, but the balcony door slammed shut, followed by the door to the bedroom. James tried to open the doors, even tried ramming them with his body, but it was an exercise in futility. James was prepared to give up when he felt something snaking around his ankle.

James looked down and saw a sweater's sleeve wrapped around his ankle.

"Must've gotten caught in it after the doors slammed..." James remarked and bent down to untangle it, but it wouldn't budge. He shook his leg around, but to no avail.

James's head snapped to his other leg when he felt the same feeling, finding a pair of pantyhose wrapped around that leg. James started to run away, but felt his ankles being constricted, before falling onto the floor. He pushed himself up, but was unable to avoid getting his wrists snagged by a short leather jacket and a pair of tight capris.

"Help me!" James screamed as a scarf wrapped itself around his mouth. "Mmph!"

"Time to play dress-up..." Leighton said as the room started to shake.

The clothes in the closet began to move on their own, as did the cosmetics on the vanity. James struggled against his bonds as a pair of gloves slowly pulled off his shirt and shoes, while a brush and comb started to work their way through his medium-length hair.

Once James was stripped down to the nude, a pair of panties slid up his legs until they rested on his waist. This was followed by a matching bra that was strapped around his chest, as the clothes used to hold him manipulated his arms.

"Hmm..." Leighton said. "Time to get pretty."

James struggled as he felt a headband placed onto his head, but was distracted as he felt his fingers and toes being attacked, feeling the toenails being shaped and painted as pressure was applied to his fingers. He'd have been able to see what they were doing, but his face was suddenly attacked by all manner of cosmetics as he felt sponges and brushes on his cheeks, tweezers on his eyebrows, pencils on his eyes.

Without warning, James was lifted up and placed into a pink, pleated miniskirt and a pair of heeled boots, while a white blouse and pink pullover cardigan were placed over his head. The scarf was even removed, but only to allow a tube of pink lipgloss to coat his lips.

"What is happening?" James wondered aloud.

The ghostly clothing dragged him in front of a full length mirror as Leighton scrutinized her new plaything.

"Something isn't quite right..." Leighton muttered as she observed the feminized boy.

His blonde hair was offset nicely by the pink headband that now rested on top of his head. Moving to the face, the makeup job was impeccable. Perfect contouring, arched eyebrows, the eyes were nicely defined with nude tones, eye shadow, curled lashes, and despite looking like he wasn't wearing much makeup, the effects were staggering. Even with just the lipgloss, his lips were shiny, pink and absolutely kissable. James clenched his fists, stabbing his palms with newly extended pink nails, which matched his toes, safely hidden within the heeled boots. The clothes were nice, a particular favorite outfit of Leighton's down to the boots, but he didn't fill it out quite as well as she had in life, and his hairy legs were a problem.

"I wonder..." Leighton said.

She had been able to manipulate objects, thoughts, perhaps her powers also applied here. Leighton mustered up all her strength and flew through the air into James's body. Leighton concentrated and James could only watch in horror as he saw his body transform in the mirror.

James could feel his breasts expanding to fill the cups of the bra, while at the same time, he felt his bulge disappear. Honey blonde hair exploded out of his head underneath the headband. The tight outfit became comfortable and fitted as his body slimmed down and his body hair fell out. While, thanks to the expert makeup job, the changes weren't apparent, James' nose shrank as his lips slightly puffed and his eyes reshaped themselves with long lashes. James was so in shock that he couldn't utter more than a squeak of amazement.

When all was said and done, Leighton dropped James onto the floor. He falls flat on his face, trying to balance in his new heels, and tries to stand up, gazing at his new, feminine reflection in the mirror, when Leighton finally fades into view, wearing the same outfit as James was garbed in.

"Please let me go! Change me back and I promise I'll leave and never return!" James begged, and he noticed that something was different. "My voice!"

"Let you go?" Leighton asked. "Why on Earth would I do that? You're my favorite new toy."

James groaned as he saw more objects around the room start to circle him.

"I always did want a sister to play with." Leighton giggled. "And I always get what I want."

Days later, or was it weeks later? James had long since lost track of time since he had become Leighton's prisoner. Between constant games of dress-up, where it felt like James had worn everything in Leighton's closet multiple times, to times where Leighton used him as a glorified doll, acting out scenarios in her room, getting ready for make-believe dates, having slumber parties, James was treated to the crash course in being a girly-girl like Leighton. However long it was later, James sat on the bed, dressed in one of Leighton's nightgowns and fuzzy slippers as Leighton brushed his hair.

"I think it's about time we find you a boyfriend, isn't it, Jamie?" Leighton asked, having started calling James that shortly after she revealed herself. "Every girl needs that experience. I might even have someone in mind..."

James had learned not to argue with Leighton, still holding onto the vain hope that he'd one day be freed from this hell.

"Of course, sister." James replied, still un-used to his lighter, feminine voice.

Part of James didn't think that Leighton could use her powers to do that. After all, Leighton had kept the house secure since James' arrival, no one entering or exiting. But there was one thing that James had learned over his time here. Leighton always gets what she wants. No matter what.

The End