Turnabout Gurls, A Costume No Longer
My wife and I were courting a prospective customer a few days before Halloween. We had hoped to have business concluded before this, having already spent three days in negotiations with them. It isn't the first time we have trekked here to try and sign them on as customers. This time, if successful, it would guarantee our company's financial stability for years to come.
I had come back to our hotel room to relax a little while Kayla spent some time at the beauty salon with the owner, Sheila Applewood. The company was Applewood Industries, a leader in the design and manufacturing of production-line equipment. Our company was importing parts for different manufacturers for whatever they desired to use them for.
In this case, we were trying to sell them modular control units for their equipment designs, a specialty of our company. They also showed interest in our switching units, devices that change the direction of items on a conveyor belt. If we were successful, it would mean almost three million dollars in additional revenue for us, not counting the volume discounts we might get by selling the extra units to them and others.
It was late when Kayla returned to the hotel room, a pretty large smirk on her face as she kissed me in greeting. This salon certainly knew its business; she was prettier than I have ever seen her in my five years of marriage to her. After the sensual kiss, she sat me down and filled me in on the evening's discussions at the salon.
"We are invited to a costume party tomorrow night at Sheila's home, both of us to be in costume. Sheila had the costumes already picked out for us, plus the use of the salon to make sure our bodies fit the costumes' theme.
Then, on Halloween, we will attend the company's party at the plant's warehouse. Then the following morning, she will meet with us and most likely sign a five-year contract for the parts we want to furnish her company."
I did catch the most likely part, so the next two days would either get us the contract or leave us empty-handed. Kayla became serious as she took my hand and looked directly into my face.
"This is the part I am sure you will not care for. Her costume for you is a very sexy French maid. Mine is a dominatrix, one that is the maid's employer and owner."
Without making a big fuss, I mentioned that I didn't think you would be too happy in that costume. Her only reply was maybe he isn't interested in the contract, then.
"I don't think we can get by with you abstaining from dressing up. She is quite resourceful in getting her way on almost anything she does. The fact that she had the costumes picked out and the salon appointment booked weeks ago says this was all planned before we even showed up. Whether this is part of some grand plan or just something kinky she indulges in from time to time, I have no idea.
When I talked to one of the gals at the salon today, she did indicate that this is not the first time something similar has happened with Sheila, especially at Halloween."
"By the way, the salon does transform males into beautiful females every day, a fact that explains why the salons were started in the first place. The name Turnabout Gurl Salon fits them perfectly. Look what they accomplished with me today, and you can imagine how good you will look after they get finished with you. Sheila turned out even more exotic than I, her hairstyle a real work of art."
"I know you will dread it, but for me, I want you to try it. Ever since I found out her plan for you, I have been dripping wet down below in anticipation of seeing you as a French maid and later seeing to your deflowering.
So please consider doing this for me, at least this one time. I will be so grateful, promising to take real good care of you in all matters, especially sexually, in the days to come."
I had listened to her every word, hoping that it was just something to wind me up. Her pleading with me at the end told me that this is all real. I definitely did not want to do this. Still, we had already spent quite a bit of time courting Sheila, and by refusing her invitation, all of that would be for naught.
I especially didn't want to be seen dressed as a maid, a servant to her, by all her friends and executives. Then at the party at the plant, to all the rest of her employees. I thought about it for quite some time before swallowing hard and telling Kayla I would do it.
After I had agreed to do it, I felt perspiration on my hands and forehead; this is definitely at the upper limit of what I can handle personally. I asked her to stay with me through all of this. Without her by my side, I doubted I could or would go through with it.
We did not talk about the costumes or the parties that night, which I was very thankful for. Kayla did hold me tightly in bed that evening. Several times, I tried to scoot even closer, tomorrow's activities weighing heavily on my mind.
I was usually the one to comfort Kayla in rough times, but now the roles were reversed. I did finally manage a few hours of sleep, Kayla dragging me out of bed at seven A.M., the start of what I hoped would not be a disastrous day.
I managed to use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and shimmy into one of Kayla's robes, and I was led out the door. For gawd sake, I am naked under her robe, not even a pair of panties. That alone had my mouth open and beads of sweat already forming on my body before we reached the hotel room door.
Aside from my extreme nervousness about what was to happen, the trip was a non-event. Kayla had to drag me from the car, as I was trying to hold on to anything to keep from leaving it and to keep the robe on; its absence would leave me exposed to everyone. I failed in both attempts; the robe came undone, giving glimpses of my naked body to anyone looking at me. I did manage to keep my male organ covered somewhat by one hand holding it in its embrace.
My first look at the salon did nothing to ease some of my fears. It was huge and so feminine. I was taken immediately to a private room and the robe removed. Kayla approached with one of her old contact lens sets and inserted one in each eye. My vision was now fuzzy, so I couldn't really make out what they were going to do to me. I was kissed hard by Kayla and told to be good. She will check on me at lunch and be back to take me to the costume party at six.
Oh gawd, eleven hours here alone, I doubt there will be anything masculine left after that amount of time. I shed a tear or two and tried to block out what would happen to me. If I can't see it and don't think about it, it couldn’t be happening to me. Sounds good, but so totally unrealistic. I was laid on a table, and cream was smeared all over my front. As that was doing whatever it was intended to do, my nails were being worked on.
I have to thank Kayla for the contacts; the fuzzy vision helped with dealing with what was happening. I felt things were being done, but I could not be sure what was being done or see the end result to worry about.
The cream on my back was wiped off, and I was turned back over, my feet placed in stirrups, and secured. I was tempted to raise my head and look at what was being done, but not seeing what was being done to me might make it easier to accept.
My legs were split wide apart, almost to the point of hurting. Then I felt a cool spray on my groin and nothing more after that. I did feel the presence of someone between my legs as they rubbed against my thighs. They apparently were doing something to my male appendage. I figured that anatomically, I was a female now; my male organ now somehow hidden. I just hoped his hiding spot was not permanent.
In my years as a male, I never did refer to my male organ as a penis; that sounded so vulgar to me. Kayla called it Percevil, always with a giggle. It was happy, Kayla loved it, and paid homage to it quite often. I tried to return her efforts in spades. I think Kayla was delighted with my efforts. Still, I was not entirely confident about it, especially now and in the future.
There were two things attached to my chest in the area around my nipples, and then a while later, a suction started in those things attached to my chest. It was relentless, never releasing the suction, but alternating with more suction to pull tissue into the cups. I could feel the tissue slip into the cup, but that may have been my overactive imagination.
They washed my hair, applied several treatments, and rinsed them out shortly thereafter. I could feel my hair being wrapped around something, probably curlers. Then something slid over all of that, and warm air flowed after that. My lower legs were placed in some kind of form and strapped down. I think I felt a pin prick in each calf, but then nothing. It seemed like I was being forced to stand on my toes in the form, the arch of my ankle quite severe.
I was left alone for a while, the machine sucking my tissue into the objects on my chest, the only thing happening to me that I could discern. After several hours, the forms attached to my lower legs were removed. However, the foot was still arched severely. It was like I was standing on my toes. The chair I was strapped down to was set up somewhat, and my hair was removed from the presumed curlers. My eyebrows were worked on. From the many sharp pains in that area, I have far less there now than when I entered the salon. A liquid was spread on my lips after they were placed in some kind of form, preventing me from moving them much.
After an eternity, the machine sucking the loose tissue from my chest into the forms was shut off, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Even with my fuzzy vision, the forms looked full. Instantly, I wondered how the tissue that had been sucked from my body would suddenly go back where it came from. My stomach knotted up as the realization of some of this made it to my muddled mind.
I said a silent prayer that Kayla would stick with me through this, knowing things between us would change drastically. Essentially, I was becoming a woman in every way, so anything involving a relationship between us would now have to be female-to-female.
They worked on my face for another hour, adding different types of cosmetics. From the few comments I overheard, I presumed the cosmetics were semi-permanent. Another hard fact to somehow deal with. Although the changes were not what I had thought would happen, I remained quiet.
I should have spoken up or stopped the changes. Still, for some reason, I went along with everything, praying that I would somehow survive this ordeal.
While I was in the chair, stockings were pulled up my legs, and shoes were put on my feet. I was helped to stand and held there until I got my bearings and stood alone. The heels were very tall, and the arch of my foot somehow fitted the arch of the heel perfectly.
A corset was added around my waist and, over the next hour, tightened until the sides met in the back. I felt the stockings being attached to the corset, their tightness now quite noticeable. I could still breathe, however, so I was thankful for that.
A bra for my breasts; it immediately helped support the now-significant weight on my chest. The hoses had been removed, but the form that shaped them remained. A dress of some sort was slipped over my head and buttoned up the back. I doubted it covered much, since I could still feel the air on my thighs and the top of my chest.
I presumed I was now in a maid's uniform, ready to perform my duties. I sincerely hope I will be spared that duty, hoping against hope that this was just a costume for the evening.
My hair was worked on, as I felt soft tendrils of curly hair lying on my shoulders. The decision to keep my hair long, most of these years, is now being used against me. I did hear Kayla off in the background, hoping that it was indeed her and that she was there to lead me away. It seemed like hours more before she made her way to my location. I later figured it was her time to get into her role for the evening. I felt her slide something around my neck, and a click as it fastened together. She giggled some then pulled on the leash attached to my collar. I presume it was a leash, as a part of it swung down and hit my chest. "Come along, Collette, it's time to make our appearance."
I felt funny being led from the salon, collared, and apparently leashed. I had withdrawn into myself, now submissive and quiet. This was way more than my mind could handle. I knew what was being done to me, but not what to do about any of it. Kayla seemed content to let things progress for some reason; now was not the time for me to ask why. I trusted her; I had to, since there was no one else to watch over me. I withdrew into my shell and let things happen. I did imagine the shock on my face when the fuzzy contacts were removed and I could see for myself what had been done to me.
I kept telling myself that things would work themselves out somehow, now if I could just believe my own thoughts. We made an unscheduled stop back at the hotel room as Kayla led me to the bedroom part of the suite we had reserved. She led me close to the bed and told me to stand still.
"Due to your looks and what Sheila has managed to have done to you, I have made a few other adjustments to your costume. Don't ask questions right now. I will explain as we get you outfitted for your role tonight. Sheila had exceeded what we had agreed to earlier, so I have made some modifications to your costume. Some of the things I have decided on will most likely shock you. Still, due to Sheila's unorthodox approach to your costume, I feel they are necessary."
"It seems that she was intending to humiliate you at the party, leaving you in an uncomfortable position. From what I have found so far, she intended to rent you out as a maid to her friends and executives. That would leave her a way out of the deal if she wanted to, since your lack of cooperation would be seen as a refusal of the deal. I have already talked to her, telling her that I am approaching her competition with our products and will be selling to them at our cost."
"There were several moments of silence as Sheila was trying to see if I was bluffing. When I mentioned the CEO's name of her best competitor, she knew I was serious. She has already signed the contract and paid the estimated first-year purchases upfront. She did want to make sure we were still coming to her costume party tonight. I told her we would not miss it, but my maid will be unable to serve others or do much; she will be able to tend only to my needs. I got a quizzical look from her, but she didn't say anything more."
"Now, to make sure you are safe and trussed up next to me, we need to make you my maid slave. We will start with a chastity belt, with proper attachments to ensure your virginity. That requires me to give you a douche in your rear entry point. Come along, Colette, and we will see to that now."
I started to say something, but I got a stare from her that would melt steel. Even through the fuzziness, I knew she was serious, so I closed my mouth and awaited further developments. After she had applied the douche and waited until I was cleaned out, I was taken back to the side of the bed. I now noticed through the fuzziness that it was covered with things apparently intended for me.
The belt was fastened around my waist and clicked shut behind my back. I felt a strap being brought up between my legs and two intruders positioned over my available orifices. She giggled, then eased the intruders into me.
Another click and I was secured in the chastity belt. The feeling was so different; now I felt stuffed both in front and in the rear. I know it has affected how I stand in heels and, most likely, how I will walk, too.
I felt her change my heels; these seemed even higher than the pair from the salon. They apparently locked as I heard two more clicks. Another band was applied just above my knees, significantly restricting my gait. I hoped that was to be the extent of my gear, but I was so wrong.
She unbuttoned my maid's dress and lowered the top to lie around my waist. My bra was removed and a new one fastened around my chest. This one was heavier; the cups of the bra felt cold on my new appendages, like metal. I presumed it would warm up eventually, then another click. "Now your breasts are safe and secure in your new chastity bra."
I couldn't imagine much more that could be done to me, but I forgot my mouth. Kayla asked me to open my mouth, and she inserted a funny-looking contraption of metal into my mouth. Due to my fuzzy vision, I could not make out the detail, but I could feel my mouth now quite full with the intruder. Kayla used a pair of tongs to trap my tongue in the gag, then adjusted it so it fit snugly behind my teeth. Now, I could no longer open my mouth or do anything but let out a low groan. The old collar was removed, and a new one was secured around my neck.
The new collar ran from my chin to my upper chest, fitting tightly around my neck. It held my neck rigid and was secured to my gag by two wires that slipped out of my mouth and attached to the collar. More clicks as the collar was locked on, making me more than secure, at least from my standpoint.
Her contacts were removed from my eyes, and after blinking many times, I finally could see clearly. I was led over to the mirror, a slow maneuver since I was hobbled at the knees and in towering heels. As my image came into view, I almost fainted. I was indeed a sexy maid, more like wanton sex personified. Kayla was holding onto me to keep me standing. After a few moments, she moved my hand down to her sex, where I could easily tell she was very turned on.
A set of mittens was added before we left the room, making my hands utterly useless. They were fashioned from clear plastic, allowing my fingernails to be seen, while fitting as if they had been molded to my hands. Of course, they also locked on, guaranteeing that I would not have the use of my hands tonight.
She left all of my keys for her additions in the hotel room, hidden among her suitcase, so I would see what she had done. I was slowly led through the hotel corridors, then through the lobby, attracting more than a bit of attention. I noticed that most of the males had their mouths open, probably drooling.
I should mention here that Kayla was dressed as an equally sexy dominatrix, a whip and cuffs hanging from her belt at the waist. There was a limo waiting for us out front, the driver of said limo never taking his eyes off of me as I eased into the back seat. The ride was silent as Kayla checked her emails on her tablet.
Once at Sheila's house, I was helped out, and we made our way to the front door. Sheila opened the door herself after we rang the doorbell. Instantly, her mouth was open in awe; she was totally at a loss for words. Kayla asked if we could come in, and Sheila giggled, standing aside so we could enter. Kayla led me right into the front room, not waiting for Sheila. She did manage to catch up with us, hugging Kayla and inspecting her slave, little old me. I really doubt she missed anything on my body, even poked a couple of things to see if they were real or fake.
Kayla took me over to a staircase and tied my leash to one of the railings, a little over head high. To make her point, she slid a lock into the loops at the end of the leash and smiled at Sheila. They went off to talk, while I stood there as every eye in the place was fixated on my body and dress. My feet were beginning to ache a little, but I finally realized what would have become my fate tonight if not for Kayla.
Standing there, I did wonder what all the changes meant for Kayla and me in our relationship. That thought was rudely interrupted as my anal intruder came to life. Oh, God no. My mind is now focused on it and what it is doing to my body. I was twisting and turning, my male appendage hidden in the silicone vagina, trying to react to the stimulation, and my mind trying to keep from going off the rails. It was crazy, I have never been this excited sexually before, and there was nothing I could do to stop it or further it on.
Luckily, the intruder stopped its vibrations, but soon the newness of somebody new wore off, and her guests came closer to check me out. The ladies were the most forward, checking my breasts out and lifting my skirt to see what was underneath. Then they would tell their significant others what they had learned.
There was not much I could do. Even though my hands were free, the long nails and the mittens prevented me from doing anything with them. Locked to the staircase, I wasn't going anywhere. With my mouth gagged, I couldn't say anything or answer any of their questions. Once the ladies found that out, I was thoroughly checked out, every lady making sure to inspect me closely in every detail.
Kayla returned with a wide smile. I was unlocked from the railing and led away by Kayla. She made the rounds of Sheila's guests, talking and exchanging business cards with quite a few ladies. Most of them seemed interested in me as a maid. I sure hope Kayla is not thinking along those lines. Of course, looking at the present and being realistic, I am already in the role, but I am not doing any of the work that comes with it.
Kayla stayed until most of the guests left —I know because my feet were killing me. Then she said her goodbyes to Sheila and thanked her for the business. Sheila was going to say something, but Kayla cut her off.
"Incidentally, what you did to my spouse will cost you quite a bit. I have managed to make agreements with several of your customers here tonight, and most of them will switch to us as a supplier if I give them the word. You might keep that in mind next time you make an agreement and then willfully disregard it. Keep me happy, and I will let things slide; cross me, and your business is toast. Do we have an understanding?
Sheila answered yes —the first time I had heard a little fear in her voice. They exchanged hugs, and we left. The same limo that delivered us was there, and it returned us to our hotel. Back through the lobby and into the elevator. I was not as red in the face this time; I guess I was getting used to the humiliation. Once in our suite, I was backed up against the closet door, and then my hands were tied to the top of the door with a belt from Kayla. She approached, toying with my body, running her finger slowly all over my thighs, stomach, neck, and any area that might get her a response.
"Now we come to Colette. I have had time to think about us tonight, and the new relationship I am going to have with you. I have always loved you, and that has not changed, but the Colette persona has turned our relationship upside down. I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say."
"Maybe I need to reward Sheila for the changes she has made to your body. I want Colette full-time as my maid, personal dresser, and companion. Your time at our business is over. You need time to keep me happy and content, while at the same time keeping yourself pretty and desirable. I will allow some time out of the maid's costume, but it will be minimal."
"Always in heels, petticoats, hair in curls, and makeup. I can see you having a full closet of different maids' dresses for every occasion and job. Then, in bed at night, after you take care of my needs, I will see to yours if you have been good. If not, expect to be punished until you learn to behave as a proper maid and companion.
Are these terms satisfactory, or do I need to rent you out to any person looking for some domestic help? I received more than a few inquiries from her guests tonight, wanting to rent you for a party or get together, even a few for cleaning their home."
I tried to shake my head in the affirmative, the collar making it very difficult. I hope she realized my total cooperation on this matter. She left me rounding up the keys to my locks, each one was unlocked and slowly removed, the item it was protecting was played with as I squirmed and twisted trying to escape her hands and mouth. When she finally got around to my chastity belt, the dildo in the front slid out way too easily, along with a large amount of liquid. Thick gooey liquid that resembled a discharge from a male organ. I was beet red, my head hung down in shame.
Kayla smiled but wondered if I had any left for my owner. It was imagined there was plenty left for her, fresh from the source. But due to my male organ being tucked away, I was unable to deliver it properly. That night, I was also penetrated like a female, Kayla's dildo getting quite a workout.
After a session, my cum was collected from the dildo and then fed to me, a spoonful at a time. My part came as I worshiped at her altar, my tongue sore from the five orgasms I gave her before I pooped out. I did have fun, Kayla, trying to twist and turn to keep me from getting to her clitoris, but my perseverance eventually won out.
I never did get fully released that night; after an eternity of being seen to, I was cuddled in bed and fell asleep in her arms, too tired to do anything else.
I never saw any male clothes again; the maid's dresses were a staple, while I kept our home clean and Kayla happy and satisfied. It was a few weeks before I got used to my new additions —the heels, the first item I adapted to, now having to wear them anytime I was out of bed.
The chastity belt took a little longer to get used to, but Kayla wanted me focused on pleasing her, not seeing to my own orgasms. Finally, after several weeks, I became accustomed to being stuffed both front and rear, now feeling weird when I had nothing in me. My male organ stayed in its silicone vagina, never to reappear where it used to reside. Sex is usually female to female, with me pleasing her orally or with a dildo. Then she uses the dildo to see to my needs.
I am still getting used to the breasts; besides changing my sleeping positions, the weight of them, along with the swaying and bouncing, requires a lot of adjustments to my movements.
I am a regular user of the salon, now receiving twice-weekly appointments to maintain a feminine appearance for Kayla. I am now a blonde, a hair color better suited for a domestic like myself. My nails have been extended, so I'll need a couple more weeks to get used to them. My domestic duties suffered, and suitable punishments were doled out.
The corset was pure evil, taking in my waist by six inches and making bending almost impossible. Luckily, I received no more punishment for the tasks that did not get completed satisfactorily because of it. Wearing it 24/7 made it challenging to accept, but my now slender waist made my maid uniforms look so much better. Kayla made sure that they were all altered to fit me perfectly, then had the gall to tell me she had ordered a new, smaller corset to reduce my waist even further.
Surprisingly, I did not miss my job at our business. Being a maid is so less stressful. My satisfaction at knowing that my work is necessary and caring for Kayla is a reward in itself. Kayla has done much better without my help, and the company is now recording three quarters of record profits.
We do see Sheila from time to time, as she makes a point to visit our home. I know I get ogled when she is in town —maybe her thoughts go back to the time I was almost in her clutches, but managed to slip away.
It all started out as just wearing a costume and somehow became so real. Being a maid is hard work, but I can handle the challenge. In fact, I welcome the challenge of caring for Kayla and keeping her home spotless and inviting. I know now that the clothes, the heels, and the makeup just make the experience so delicious. A delicious experience that I savor, so lucky to be Kayla's maid and able to serve and love her for the rest of my life. Truly A Costume No Longer.
© 2016 through 2025 by Francesca