Allison, A Token Transsexual

It had all started with the bathroom debate and assorted legislative bills. I am sure most of it was strictly political, a way for a local representative to gain some political clout at other people’s expense. Just another way for a legislator to correct some imagined injustice, although its correction often far worse than the original problem.

Everybody jumped on the bandwagon, they were all going to be heroes, making things right. One of the state’s governor, who made a big deal about the legislative bill they had passed and he signed quickly got voted out of office at the next election. I am sure that is not the political clout he was expecting from supporting the bill.

Anyway, a few of the liberal states started talking about proposed legislation to reverse all of the crap that had been passed. Then a few of the federal officials decided to use existing legislation, looking at older laws a little differently. It was decided that existing laws were adequate, so they issued new guidelines for people to follow. A new Attorney General recently appointed by the President elect decided that this was his ticket to fame and fortune and started aggressively prosecuting any violators of these new guidelines.

Well like anything political, some new views of these guidelines caused some interesting situations to pop up. In a school district a football player was ejected from the team because he declared himself to be a transsexual. That in of itself wasn’t the problem. The player in question wanted off the team anyway because of his new chosen gender.

Well, somehow this got all twisted around and the feds issued a warning to the school districts that all sports team from this day forward would be required to have at least one transgender student on the team. If that was not an option then an individual of the opposite sex had to be allowed to play. That way it would make it easier for other players of either sex to follow suit if they so desired. It didn’t matter if the chosen player wanted to participate or not.

Immediately a thousand lawsuits were filed, against anybody that they could find to sue, to stop this ridiculous ruling. The local courts were fed up with all of these lawsuits, not just this particular batch but the habit of people suing for the tiniest detail or infraction. They ruled that the feds were within their rights to stop discrimination this way, so the guidelines stand. All of the other lawsuits were wholesale thrown out clearing the crowded dockets quite quickly.

Needless to say the ruling was appealed to the Supreme Court, although no immediate response could be expected. In past cases it was often a year or more before they made a judgment. There was a lot of interest in the cases before the Supreme Court, their decisions sure to affect high school, collegiate sports and any other competitive sports for quite some time.

Now, enter me into this mess. I played for my high school team, a running back, due to my small stature. I was not little, but by football standards definitely not anything close to normal. I was fast however, thus ensuring a place on the team. I had ignored all the hoopla over the new guidelines being passed down from above, figuring they would just allow a female to suit up and that would be it.

At the worst, getting someone to claim they were a transsexual to head off the feds, maybe some gay guy that wouldn’t raise red flags. Well it didn’t quite work out that way, they tried the latter even though I was not gay, with little old me in the spotlight this time around.

We had just finished practice and had taken showers when I was called into the coach’s office. Not totally unheard of, although it happened to me very rarely. I knocked and entered, to find myself surrounded by most of the school’s coaching staff. I was still buttoning up my shirt as I entered, I quickly finished and set down in the chair they were pointing to. Then I noticed the Principal standing among the coaches. She started the conversation for the group.

“Allan we have a situation here and need your help. Due to some uncalled for remarks from a member of our coaching staff there has been a sudden inordinate interest in our football program here.” She was shooting daggers at our coach and he was suddenly interested in what was on the floor at the side of his desk.

“We received a letter today, notifying us of rules violations. If this is not handled quickly the entire football season will be forfeited. In order to comply we need a transgender student on the team and quickly. Each of the coaches have talked with any possibilities and they all have turned us down.”

I had finally figured it out, I was going to be the transgender student and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I stood up, getting ready to leave the room, imagine the gall of these people to ask me to do this. My P.E. coach Ms. Stone took my upper arm and excused us, leading me out to the lounge just outside of the office. Most of the guys had finished their showers, dressed, and left. She sat me down on a bench, then parked herself right next to me.

We always got along, she was probably the most liked coach of the coaching staff. Her sports was ladies volleyball and tennis, but like all of the other coaches she also had to teach several regular P.E. classes as part of her job. She made P.E. interesting, each day something new, a new sport, a new exercise regime, or just a game involving a lot of physical activity. I liked her a lot, she transformed a normally crap class, into something interesting and fun.

“Please listen to me, this is more than forfeiting some games. The local authorities are wanting to set an example, so with some nasty remarks made by your football coach we have been put in the cross hairs. This will include all of our sports programs here.

Now I know what we have asked is monumental, especially for a young man, but I would like you to take a little time and think about it. You would be doing the school a great service, maybe more than you realize. I have talked to your mother, to inform her of our request, and what we have guaranteed her so that you remain safe and not get bullied.”

“At first she was dead set against it, called me several names we won’t mention but she eventually calmed down some. She has pretty much left it up to you, she does want to talk to you before your decide though. She told me that she will take care of your father if this proceeds. Now please think this over, I realize the severity of what we have asked, but we are in a fix here, and apparently you are our last chance.”

“We did talk to a lot of other students about this, the one or two who might be interested would be a total waste on the team. It was pursued with them even if they set on the bench all the time, but as more details were given they both decided they wanted nothing to do with the idea.

We even tried to get a female to do it, stating that she is transitioning to become a male, but when all of it was explained to her she just laughed and walked away. We even tried to get her to join the team as a female, but after what we had said earlier she wanted nothing to do with anything we were asking.

Go on home, talk with your mother, and father if needed. Take time to really think this through, it does mean a lot to quite a few students. If you have any other questions, here is my cell phone number, please call if needed.

I got up and proceeded to the door of the gym, meandering back to my locker, got my books for my homework, I think, and walked home. I don’t remember much, I waved to a couple of my friends, but I couldn’t tell you which ones. Thirty minutes later. I opened our front door and walked in dropping my books on the hall table like I usually do.

Mom came out of the kitchen smiled at me and told me to follow her. She could tell that I was troubled, confused and bewildered. We went out to our gazebo, away from the house and phones to talk. I set down next to her, took a deep breath and started crying. My only words were repeated over and over in my mind. “Why me, damn why me.”

Mom as she usually does comforted me, holding me tight to her breast and stroking my hair with her other hand.

I eventually regained some control, apologizing for my emotional outbreak. “There is nothing to apologize for. What happened today, while not normal, impacted you hard, causing you to find some solace in something else. I enjoyed holding you, something you have not let me do for many years.

Now let’s talk this through a little, Coach Stone has supplied me with a few more facts and details that might make this easier for you.” She waited for me to catch up and acknowledge her.

“Why me Mom, I am a normal male, I have no desire to dress as a female, much less play football with no telling what as a uniform. Surely they could have found somebody else, anybody else to do this thing.” Mom smiled, then asked me if I remembered Craig Highlander. I nodded my head.

“Well, they had asked Craig to do this yesterday, and his mom called me this morning at work. I was laughing along with her as she told me what they had asked him to do. Since he is not as demure as you, can you imagine him in a dress or skirt? They had pulled out all the stops with him as they did with you, trying to make him feel guilty if he didn’t participate. In the end reason won, his Mom let him put on one of her old house dresses, and let him look in the mirror. That handled that and he called the coach and refused to be involved.

In fact he resigned from the team, them asking him to be transgender to save their asses changed his opinion of the school and the football program.”

“I had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before they cornered you, explained what they wanted and then applied a lot of pressure. When Coach Stone called the first time we nearly had it out, she changed her tactics and we talked for over an hour. This is, by the way, before they even planned to talk to you. Then after they stated their plan, she called back again and told me what she had asked you to do. I told her we would talk at length about this, but that I wanted a bunch of concessions if you agreed to participate.”

“Well, they are in the quicksand and nearly to go under, so she agreed on behalf of the school to all of my concessions, without any reservations. Now as to what you would like to do. Keep in mind that you have them by the balls, to quote a widely used analogy, now is a good time to gain some things that might not have been available to you in the past. Living as a transgender student is not going to be that hard, a few things to get used to, but I have faith in my child to come through this with ease.”

I inwardly chuckled, as if you haven’t been able to ascertain Mom is a lawyer and one of the best in the state. She does a lot of things but always for her benefit. She works an odd schedule, so that she can be here for me when I get home from school. If there is other work to be done, she does it in her home office later at night after dinner and a little time spent with me. We are close, much closer than any Mother / Son relationship that I know of. I know that she loves me, her number one obligation in life is to take care of me and lead me through life.

Dad was alright, but his work came first, always his primary concern. We talked often, but it was more a thing he felt he needed to do, not something he wanted to do. I was sure that most of our conversations were dictated by Mom, maybe even what to say to me. I often had a hard time believing some of the things my dad would tell me. Those thoughts would never come from my Dad without some intervention or manipulation. Mom was a master of persuasion, a few words and soon all parties were thinking the same thing.

I relaxed a little, this does make things different, but I am still scared shit less. One minute at school in female garb and my future is sealed, I will be lucky to make it home alive. Whatever they claim be damned, bullying and physical violence are rampant in school, in my school. I have been witness to many incidents, in most cases the pupil is withdrawn to go to another school way away from here. Several cases had to be hospitalized before somebody decided to finally intervene.

“Can you keep a secret, the penalty in not doing so is your life?” I looked at Mom, wondering what she is talking about, nothing can be that important that the penalty for divulging is death.

“Yeah, I can keep a secret, at least I think I can.”

“Females are weaker and in most cases smaller than males. Yet, we control most of the finances in the world. We also can make most males do as we ask, without any kind of physical force. Males usually have the muscles and brawn, but females have the looks and brains.” My eyes shot up on that remark. She giggled but continued.

“There is a reason for that, most males are driven by lust, he sees a beautiful woman and he does stupid things trying to get her to notice him. This can be as simple as racing the engine in a car to attract attention or even burning rubber to get the female to look his way. Playing football, another example. He risks injury to make a score, to make a tackle, or win a game to show his girl he is worthy and manly. His hope is that if the girl falls for him he might get a kiss, or even better something more desirable.”

“A female uses her beauty and brains to attract attention, to get the male to do all his tricks to please her. She gets meals, gets taken to dances, gets pampered, maybe flowers and candy all to convince her that he is the one, the one to marry and take care of him.

The female though sees underneath the exterior, is he caring, is he responsible, will he provide for me, will he be a good father to my children? She might have been attracted to him originally because of one of his tricks, but he is evaluated as a mate on a totally different criteria.”

“Now you are in a unique position for a young male, an offer that can be made a lot of, plus a chance to play on the other team for a while. Think about a few months from now, you having taken the opportunity offered to you. You get to experience being pampered, being wined and dined, taken to dances, by former friends now only interested in getting into your panties. Yet you can still play some football if you want. Believe me no one that gets a good look at the female you is going to tackle something so pretty on a football field. I call that a license to steal, whatever you want, you can get.”

“Now as to after the masquerade, you will know what a female likes, how to treat her to make her feel good about you, from personal experience. You can talk with them about fashions, about makeup, about relationships, all from personal experience, even about boys, the number one topic of young females. That is a win-win situation for you.”

“I know this is scary for you, but other than the first day when everybody gets a look at you I am sure you will be treated with kid gloves. Even though the boys know you were one, all they will see is a gorgeous female, the taboo of talking to you or even dating you quickly forgotten when they think of kissing you or holding you in their arms. What do you have to lose, and then think of all you have to gain? I took the liberty of taking one of your pictures and altering it to show you what you might look like as a female. Like I said nothing to lose.”

I stared at the picture she handed me, I recognized the face a little, it is obviously one of my pictures but the image other than a slight resemblance to me is of one gorgeous female. I swallowed hard, way too much to absorb, me Allan as a female and playing football to boot. I just sat there, Mom leaving me to think about all that she had told me.

I knew Mom often got her way with Dad, even though he supposedly ruled with an iron hand. Yeah sure, what he doesn’t know about won’t hurt him. I also knew that she made most of the decisions around the house. Often when I would ask Dad for something there was always a delay before he responded back, while he got Mom’s approval. So the secret Mom let me in on is probably all fact, very little if any stretching of the truth. I also knew that she earns five times what Dad makes, a fact not told me directly, but I managed a peek at a bank deposit one time, so I had little doubt about that truth.

Mom’s skill and knowledge easily helped her earn major dollars in her trade. From more than one person I heard she was one of the most respected attorneys in the state, they had even asked her to run for political office once.

Mom just smiled at me as my brain processed what she had told me, then I would look at the picture again and sigh. I think at that point she knew I would do it, my few remaining reservations being shoved to the back of the bus. I stuttered out how, meaning how it would be accomplished, but she knew what I meant.

“You will be out of school for two days, while the necessary changes are made. This is not a fantasy disguise, you will look 100 % female in all regards. That is the essential part to insure your safety and health. If you are a caricature, you will be picked on, if you look like a cheerleader you will be respected and cared for, simple as that.”

“Your day starts tomorrow at eight A.M. the transformation complete by evening. Then back the next day for some training as a female, basic walking, behavior and some voice training. Your debut will be Friday morning at school, a full day of classes and then you get to play football with the boys at the game that night. It is your homecoming and I expect you might also get a chance to be an attendant or even the Home Coming queen depending on what happens during the day at school.”

The conversation stopped there as it was getting near to dinner time, I went upstairs to get cleaned up, and Mom finished fixing dinner. When I returned downstairs I helped set the table and serve the food. Dad had gotten home a few minutes earlier and we adjourned to the dining room to eat.

Dinner was deathly quiet, hardly anybody talked, the food was good, but I don’t even remember what it was I managed to eat. I did help Mom clean up afterwards to her surprise, then attempted to do my homework. I think I completed the assigned tasks, but I am not sure.

The thoughts of being transgender stayed with me during this time, I still think someone else could be found, but since I was smallish, and was already on the team I was the leading contender, at least, one that hadn’t turned them down yet.

I just shook my head as Mom led me to my bedroom, helped me undress and then slipped a nightie over my head. As it dropped down over my body I almost fainted away, the feeling so delicious. I got a goodnight kiss on the forehead as she tucked me in and left, turning out the light as she closed the door. I have never let anybody undress me since I was ten, so that was a complete surprise, even more so when she tucked me in and kissed me goodnight. The world is going mad, and I am among the most affected.

I laid there lost in thought, where are the clothes coming from, what will I wear when I play football, and what will my few friends say. I imagine I will be ostracized at the very least, maybe not beat to death, but I doubt I will have anybody to call a friend.

Sleep finally took me from my worries, but I tossed and turned, the nightie sliding over me waking me up, till I could get it re-situated again. The sensations just too delicious to ignore. This kept me awake most of the night until I hugged myself tightly, keeping the nightie from sliding. Feeling the nightie hugging my arms and chest, I finally drifted back to sleep to stay that way until the alarm the next morning.

I got up and used the bathroom, then returned to my bedroom. Mom is there waiting for me. I saw the sweats laying on my bed, also some of my boy clothes on the back of a chair on the other side of the room. Decision time, I approached her, hugged her, and squeaked out a question. “Will me doing this change anything between us, will Dad think less of me, his son becoming a female?”

“Mom held my face in her hands so that I had no chance to look other than in her eyes. “Never will you be anything except my child, whether male or female I will love you just as much no matter what happens. Now if you get pregnant later before you get married I may be upset, but you will still be my daughter.”

I looked at her, “I do hope you are kidding me, surely you are kidding me, you have to be kidding me.” Mom giggled then kissed my face, you have to lighten up a little Allison, you might love to be a mother, getting a chance to bond with your daughter like I now have with you. As for dear old Dad, you have nothing to worry about, it won’t take you twenty minutes to have him wrapped around your manicured nail.

I savored the name Mom had just called me, I presume that to be my new name for this adventure. I did like it, it seemed to fit my personality. So Allan disappears and Allison takes over.

“So are you ready to get rid of the penis and get a pussy, or are you still unsure?”

A look of shock came across my face.

“They are going to cut off my penis, all in the name of a high school sports program.”

Mom giggled some more, but ignored my question.

“Put on the sweats and let’s go, I will explain the rest while we drive to the salon.”

The drive took us about thirty minutes, Mom telling me about the salon we are going to.

“They take males and make them into females, disguised enough that anyone else could not pick the real males from the females. That includes breasts and a vagina. They do not cut your penis off, just secure it and add a vagina over the top of it. It will pass a gynecological exam if needed.” I started to question why I had to go so far.

Reading my mind, “Number one reason is your safety, in gym or in the shower you will appear like a natural female. Any dastardly deeds done to you constitutes rape, a punishable offense. If you just dressed as a female, it might be assault and battery if there was some witnesses, otherwise just a fight among two males. Since you will look like a female, most of the other females will support you, since females tend to stick together.”

“That will also carry over to the football field, your male teammates protecting you, the gorgeous young girl, from the other gender. If you just dressed as a female that might not be the case, the boys allowing a tackle that might hurt you or forgetting to make a block.”

“Relax about the next two days, become my daughter and then let’s just take it one day at a time after that exploring your feelings and thoughts, okay.” I nodded and she made the right turn into their parking lot.

The salon is huge, almost as big as the super store in town. I managed to get out of the car, but just stood there. Mom calling me Allison finally breaking my chain of thoughts. I reluctantly looked at her and she kissed me on the cheek. “Come on, let’s go you female life awaits you.”

As we walked in the door my eyes got larger, so much going on, and all a little bit scary. They are going to do this to me, and I will never be the same. Mom still holding my hand squeezed it, looked my way then told the receptionist that Allison is her for her makeover.

Before I had a chance to bolt for the door, a young lady came to get me, leading me away while I desperately tried to get back to Mom. My escort leaned in closer, whispering to me that it will be alright, another hour or two and I will be looking forward to the next treatment. I doubted that, but her statement seemed to help some. Somebody holding my hand helped more. Even if she is leading me down the road to femaleness and apparent instant doom.

When we entered a private room in the back I became apprehensive again, but Monica calmed me down as she helped remove my clothes and got me up on the table. I was lying there suddenly aware that I was bare assed naked in front of this young lady. The blood started pumping into my upper regions, leaving me quite red, not just in the face. She was very professional, spreading a cream over my front. She missed nothing, I was afraid that my organ might embarrass me more, but he too was scared shit less, having his camouflage removed from around him.

Thirty minutes later she wiped off the cream and any hair with it. I raised my head to look at my lower body, junior had retreated even more, just my actual penis showing. Somehow my balls had retreated into my body leaving nothing but an empty sac there. Monica folded a section of the table down leaving only my butt sitting on something. I had raised my legs and was holding them over me as she pulled out arms from the table and set a foot in each.

She strapped them in then moved up between my legs to work on my groin, I caught a glimpse of something resembling a female’s pussy being laid next to my groin. I have never seen one in person, a picture in a biology textbook the only glimpse I have had of one.

Now, I will apparently be able to look at mine daily, not a comforting thought. A mist of spray settled over the region and then I could not feel anything, numbness spreading over my groin. Raising my head a couple of times, I saw her moving junior around, then a faint feeling of something cold, then nothing.

The next time I raised my head the substitute pussy was not laying where I could see it, most likely already installed, my head flopped back hard, I was no longer a male. Some wetness in my eye suddenly appeared, a drop of which slid down my cheek. Why me, someone up above must hate me, I had a good life and now nothing is certain anymore. Everybody wants me as a female now, forgetting that my first eighteen years on this planet was as a male.

As she put the table back together again, I relaxed some, lying flat on my back staring at the ceiling. I wanted to take another look at my vagina, but seeing it would just confirm what I had become, a female, at least, in looks. She had me turn over, the lack of anything between my legs a weird sensation. Lying flat on my stomach, she coated my back side with the cream, then later wiped it off. The air conditioner had come on, the cool air blowing over my new hairless skin, made goose pimples pop up everywhere.

Laying on the table again staring at the ceiling, she moved to my chest area. For most guys a female means breasts, some large, some small, but all a delight to think about and play with when they could talk the girl into it. I would soon be one of those females, lusted after by males, not a pleasant thought. Monica tried to get me talking, she could see that the changes were bothering me a lot.

“Look Allison, you are embarking on quite an adventure, while you may not think so at the moment it is fun being female, to be sought after is a nice feeling. Relax some, then when you come back in for your weekly salon appointments we can talk about what you got to experience.

Maybe you have suffered some as a male, trying to talk to a female only to have them ignore you. Maybe the pretty girl you wanted to be with, kept evading you like you never existed or when you finally got a chance to talk to her you were tongue tied, her giggling at your actions and embarrassment.”

“Now you will be on the receiving end, able to make a boy miserable just by looking the other way, or ignoring him when he says something to you. But when one of them kisses you and you melt from the inside out, you will be on cloud nine. You did say you wanted the Dolly Parton look, right.”

I immediately turned towards her, to see if she is kidding me, Monica giggling away, finally able to get my attention, my undivided attention. I watched her closely, as she set up a machine over my chest area. A semi hard breast like shape was placed over each nipple. It resembled a fairly well-endowed breast in size and had its own nipple protruding from the tip of it. These were secured to my chest with an adhesive. After the adhesive set up she tugged on the nipple of the form to make sure they were firmly attached. Next she injected a large syringe of fatty tissue in to each breast like shape. Finally a hose was hooked up to each of the breasts from the machine and it was turned on. A slow vibrating suction started pulling on the tissue inside this breast like shape.

I quickly looked at Monica, my face frozen in fear. She giggled, “These are in the right proportion to your body, we will save the Parton boobs for later in your life when you are ready to strut your stuff. It takes about four to seven hours for the machine to coax your reluctant breasts out into full view, the time determined by the size of your new titties. This is a new procedure we have here at Turnabout Gurl Salon. The cups stay on and in two to three days they dissolve away leaving two beautiful breasts in their place.”

As my breasts were being sucked from my body Monica told me she was going to make me pretty and beautiful. Her idea of being beautiful started with my nails. She filed and shaped them, then added extensions to make my fingers look longer and delicate. My toenails were handled in the same way sans the extensions.

Every once in a while I would lift my arm so that I could see better what she had done. My arms had always been a little heavy looking, but now without the hair and with the gorgeous extensions on my fingers they looked slender and pretty.

There was definitely no muscle mass there, I was fast but never did any exercises of any kind other than P.E. class. A lot of the guys worked out, they were typical jocks, wanting the larger chest, and arm muscles. I could see that the changes will affect me quite a bit, since there is hardly any masculine body to cover up in the first place.

Polish is next, a base coat to insure that the darker polish would not bleed through to my own nail, then three coats of a dark red polish. Its name is a Night at the Opera, a fitting name for such a deep rich polish. Each coat received a stint underneath the UV light to set the polish, I was later to learn that it would now be a very time consuming effort to remove it. Then a shiny topcoat to finish off the manicure. When I held my hands up towards the light ten sparkling reddish stars twinkled back. Then twenty minutes later my toes sported the same polish and sparkling reflection.

I did from time to time shyly look at the filling cups on my chest, I was fascinated, but secretly hoping that they would not fill in all the way, that size breasts would be quite noticeable, not able to be hidden very easily.

Unless the pants were skin tight my lack of anything masculine might not be to apparent, nothing there now to protrude to say that I am a male. With breasts now it wouldn’t make any difference anyhow, all anybody will see when looking at me convincing them of my female gender.

With my nails done, and the machine still making mountains out of mole hills, Monica turned her attention to my eyebrows. Although it initially hurt quite a bit, as she continued her assault on my brows, I didn’t notice the pain as bad. When she finished she handed me a mirror, my brows were now gone, she had removed almost every last hair. What little she did leave, I was told is necessary so that I can pencil in the appropriate brow when I do my makeup. She pointed out the high arch, not as much in style now, but perfect for my face regardless of current styles.

Next my ears became her target, using a felt tip pen she marked the location of my new earrings, then with a laser gun made four perfect holes in my ears, one set lower down for drop earrings or hoops and the other set a bit higher for studs. From a huge tray of earrings she picked two appropriate pair and put them in. I immediately felt the one pair swing back and forth brushing along my neck.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard the machine that was making breasts appear on my chest turn off. She unhooked the hoses, then helped me to set up. The forms still there, just as Monica said they would but now no longer empty. Filled to capacity, all of this tissue drawn from my body. Somehow I doubted that it could be easily reversed.

After that I was led to a stylists chair, the chair leaned back and my hair washed and conditioned. Back in an upright position my shoulder length hair is cut to, I am sure, a very feminine style. My chair has been turned away from the mirror, no chance to see how much of a girl I am going to be.

My mind kept going back to my breasts. I briefly looked down at them, then quickly looked up at the ceiling, I really had breasts and sizable to boot. This changes everything, my one last hope that my transformation would at least leave me in the tomboy category now up in smoke. These breasts of mine proudly protruding from my former masculine chest were not lost on me. They were occupying my every thought.

Monica left me for a while, just me and my breasts, and my empty groin. Then a funny thought ran through my mind. In football, a guy is always worried about getting hit in the balls, a most painful way to spend part of the game. Since mine is tucked away, I wonder if that leaves me exempt from that type of injury, wouldn’t that be a hoot. Then I realized I would now be subject to be hit in the breasts, I am sure an equally painful situation.

Monica returned with her arms full of clothes, not anything like I wore into the salon. I took a deep breath, now the moment of unveiling, a teenage girly gurl in my future, and a step forward to my new life.

Of course, there is a dress, but first the underwear. Bikini panties, light blue in color, but fitting me like a second skin, was slid up my legs. The tingling of the soft material as it caressed my legs unreal, the material satin I am sure. The snug fit between my legs the most obvious change. Now smooth with a slight impression of a slit visible. Then the bra, again in light blue, I presume a concession to my underlying masculinity. It did feel better, now that my breasts are supported some, the firm cups of the bra supporting my new tissue. The fact that I would be wearing one now all the time not so thrilling.

It took me several minutes to get used to the feeling of a bra around my chest. As I breathed my breasts raised and fell with each intake of air. A normal automatic action, now taking on a more exotic flavor. I watched my breasts move and was mesmerized by their movement. I looked up to see my image in the mirror, a female admiring her figure the image reflecting back.

A light blue slip, ending around mid-thigh, then the dress, a deep blue sweater dress that fit properly without hugging each of my new curves. It had a rounded collar, showing the top of my cleavage, and the curves of my non Dolly Parton breasts. Looking down at the dress, I can’t imagine breasts larger than what I now possessed, and being able to function.

I wondered how I would be able to run with them, my now smooth groin already affecting how I walk. Translation nothing to get in the way anymore down below. I am sure the two orbs up top will more than compensate for the sleek contours below the belt that I now possessed. I definitely am aware of having breasts now, every little movement of my body reflected in their actions. They seem to never quit moving or jiggling. This will take some time to get used to their activity, not something I had ever experienced before in any form.

No makeup today, just a regular teeny bopper off from school for a day. Of course, who should walk in but my Mother, one look and she is all over me. I got hugged, then hugged again, all the time she is trying to take in my new look and beauty.

Push me back to get a better look, then in a vicious hug, apparently I successfully passed her own vision of a daughter. I wonder if Mom would have preferred a daughter, never stated, but the look in her eyes today sure points to it.

I guess the services have been already paid for, since I am whisked out the door and into her BMW. Yeah, any self-respecting lawyer has to have a Beemer. Getting into the car, is a new experience, but I did remember how Mom has always done it, so it only caused a slight delay. Then off we went, since this is not the way to our home, I asked where we were headed. Her short reply. School.

“No Mom, we can’t go there, they will see me this way and I will be dead meat. You can’t do this to your own flesh and blood, there is some kind of law that states that.” Oh shit, was my last words as she pulled into the guest parking lot and unlocked the car doors. She got out, then came over to the passenger side. I had opened the door, not because I wanted to get out, but to plead with my Mother for some sympathy. Instead she pulled me from the seat, made me adjust my dress and we headed to the school’s offices.

We passed several of the students that I knew as we walked along the hall, but I got no verbal response. I know I felt like every eye was on me, especially my breasts. I felt self-conscious, my two orbs were bouncing a little as I walked. If I tried to hold them still, I am sure that I would attract even more attention.

We entered the office and was shown in right away. That in itself was a miracle, nobody ever got into the principal’s office that fast, absolutely nobody. We set down in chairs in front of her desk, she carefully taking in my appearance. She picked up the phone, called an extension and asked the person who answered to come to her office right away.

Less than five minutes later Coach Stone entered the office. She took one look at me, than yanked me from my chair, smothering me with a bear hug. I guess me doing this impressed her more than I thought. She made excuses and dragged me to her office in the gym. As we walked along I noticed all the stares, but no one did anything other than look in my direction. When we reached her office, I was escorted in, then she locked the door. Hanging on the wall was apparently my new uniform, complete with pads and cleats.

She wanted me to try it on, including the pads, then do a couple of laps to make sure it would not hinder my performance. I was blushing red, as I started to get undressed, but she took my hand in hers and squeezed lightly. “We are both females here, you have nothing to be ashamed about. You are absolutely gorgeous, and your actions and movements are feminine. Now let’s see what the new Tiger running back looks like suited up.”

I hung my dress on a hanger that coach provided, then slid on a sports bra that she furnished. It fit very securely, stopping most movements from my new erstwhile orbs. Then the padding, hip pads first, but with an overlapping pad that nearly covered my groin from each side. The shoulder pads seemed lighter than my old ones, but there was a lot more padding mostly around my chest. She had me move around a little to see if I still had a free range of movement.

Then the pants, in our school colors, but made out of Lycra, extremely form fitting. What made them stand out is the bright pink stripe running up and down the legs, I could not be missed in this outfit. The shirt is also form fitting, with a big circle on the back with my number in the center in pink. The pink accents blended somewhat with the school colors of burgundy and gold.

When I looked in the mirror, I noticed my reflection and broke out laughing. There in the mirror is Dolly wearing a football uniform. She handed me my helmet, recently modified with a pink stripe and led me outside to the track.

I did a few jumping jacks, my main concern is my bouncing breasts, they bounced a little, but I thought I could live with it. I took off for the track, a slow trot until I could get the feeling for the new figure. Once around the oval, then I turned it on, running as fast as I could for thirty or forty feet. When I returned to the side of the gym, Coach Stone is smiling. Back in her office, I started taking off the gear, then dressed myself in the dress that I wore here earlier.

She invited me to sit in a chair in front of her desk, wanting me to know about a few changes made today. “The old football coach is gone, he resigned since his big mouth ruined it for the school. The fact that he was solely responsible for the problem was too much for him. I am taking over the remaining few games, then if there is a next year, we will see then. It has been communicated to your Mother that the school district requires a note from a doctor regarding your Trans status, she said it would be handled. So how did the new uniform feel, will it be alright for you?”

“Yes, the uniform is perfect, although the pink accents are maybe a little overdone. I doubt any player will not be able to tell that I am a female in looks with these babies on my chest.”

She offered to go with me back to the principal’s office, but I declined. Sooner or later I will be on my own, better get my feet wet now. I made it about ten feet from her office when I was surrounded by the cheerleaders. I got hugged and kissed on the cheek, but none of them let go of my arms and hands.

Tiffany, the head cheerleader thanked me for being me, and suggested that I might need an evening gown for the homecoming dance. I stared at her, why would I need a gown for the dance. Well, let’s just say that somebody nominated you for homecoming queen, I am pretty sure you will be elected by unanimous vote, so the queen needs a gown for the dance.

“I can’t allow that, I am not even a female”

She holds my face and looks directly into my eyes. “You are gorgeous, every boys wet dream, and with what you have done for the school, there is not a student here, that thinks that you don’t deserve this and more, especially me. Once football season is over I would like you to become a regular cheerleader with us for the basketball and baseball season. Now that is settled, we can’t wait to see you Friday when you come back to school.”

The rest of the walk is in a daze, they think I am gorgeous, then about being a cheerleader, and nominated for homecoming queen, the whole world has gone mad, stark raving mad. By the time I got to the principal’s office there was a spring in my step, not sure what to think, maybe Mom is right about a lot of this. No can’t go there, or admit to it even if tortured, a Mom to a teenager is never right. An unwritten law that defies verification.

I get a hug from Mom, as she asked if everything worked out with the coach. I nodded my head and we said out goodbyes and left. As we got to the car, Mom asked me what I was going to wear to the homecoming dance. I knew better than to answer, she had something in mind and that is what I would be wearing no matter what I said or did.

We drove to a shopping center, then down to the end when we came to Francine’s boutique. It was an upscale ladies fashion shop specializing in fashions for teens to women. Most of the girls at school shopped there, at least the ones that wanted to look special. Mom dragged me right in and back to the curtained area. Through that and to one of the offices along the back wall. As we entered she introduced me to Pamela, a longtime friend, and then we looked at the dresses that had been picked for me to try on.

As each one is held up against me, I wondered if many football players were experiencing the same thing happening to me. It is so weird, a normal young man playing football, now all of a sudden immersed in the female world trying on dresses for a homecoming dance. Only in America, could this happen and be thought of as normal behavior.

When Mom told Pamela I needed something extra special since I would most likely be elected Homecoming Queen, I turned to stare at her, how did she find out. She returned the stare, but the two went to another dress rack and pulled an even more elaborate fancy dress out. It had lots of lace, a pale light green color and no shoulder straps, I would be bare shoulders in this dress. I just couldn’t see me wearing this, I realize I had boobs now, but for them to be just resting in the cups of this dress and nothing else to hold them in was just too ridiculous.

I am sure you can guess which dress Mom bought. Yes, you are right, fourteen hundred dollars’ worth of dress. It was pinned and tucked, alterations to be made and I could pick it up tomorrow morning, well Mom could. I wondered how I would be able to play football, get cleaned up, dressed, makeup and be at the dance before it ended.

Then I thought how the Homecoming Queen is always introduced at the halftime of the game. Another impossible situation, if I am indeed elected Queen. I sincerely hoped that I would be ignored, that honor I will gladly pass on.

We left the clothing store, hopefully towards home, but forget that. Mom drove us to a large clinic where quite a few doctors had offices. Then I guessed I was to see a shrink, and get my transgender letter. I wondered how that would work, I wasn’t transgender, never had been, so do I lie, or what. Mom escorted me to an office on the third floor. We entered and I had a seat while Mom talked to the receptionist. She returned to talk to me, telling me to just answer the doctor’s questions honestly. Don’t lie or make up a story, just the truth.

I was called back quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to read any of their magazines. The doctor turned out to be a lady, a very attractive one, who easily made me comfortable and willing to answer her questions. I really didn’t keep track of her line of questioning, the questions seemed simple, my answers usually brief. Before I realized it two hours had passed and she was still asking questions. Towards the end, I began to remember some of the questions, and my answers surprised even me.

According to Dr. Whitcomb, I had a feminine side, just too scared to show it in public. She pointed to several of her questions and my experience at the salon today. Most males would have run screaming at even a hint of these things, yet you sat there taking it all in, but was calm and interested in what was going on. I asked you about whether you saw yourself as a female, you tried to fight the truth, but after a few minutes you acknowledged the desire to learn more and maybe dress as one. A logical, level headed statement from an individual that is centered and goal driven.

She handed me the letter, and wanted to see me every few weeks to make sure I was handling things properly. I asked if she wanted to see my mother, “No, I have talked to your Mother about this for quite some time, we are on the same thought process, and want you to find some happiness in your life.”

“You have talked to my mother about this before today.”

“Yes, we started meeting about your welfare almost three years ago. I know of your history, your schooling and even have managed to slip a few psychological tests in to your normal achievement testing so that we can see what your thought processes are and have been.”

“Now run along, tell your Mother hi and I will see you in two weeks.” I walked out to the waiting room, looking for my mother. When I walked up to her, I told her we had to go.

I was so angry at her, three years and I am just finding out about this. “When we get home you and I are going to have a talk, and I want the truth from you, not the crap you have been telling me for the last three years.”

She broke out giggling, then that morphed into laughter.“You sound just like me, even the words are the same. Misty, I have got to go, as you can see I am in trouble here, I will call you later for the next appointment times.” Misty is apparently the receptionist and Mom knows her quite well since she used her first name.

The trip home is in silence, I really wasn’t mad at her, how can anybody be mad at someone for caring about you. Of course, still being a teenager I had to keep up appearances, never giving in to a parental unit for any reason, one of the cardinal rules. We entered the house, she went to the kitchen, and I went to my room for a while. I guess there is more to this than just taking advantage of a situation. My love for my Mom knew no limits, she has been my buddy, my friend, my confidant, and my guide through life so far.

After thirty minutes I wandered back to the kitchen, she had dinner almost done, so I set the table and got us something to drink. I got a smile from her.

“You forgive your Mom for loving you and caring about your well being?”

In a whisper barely able to be heard, I said “Yeah, I forgive you but I want a full account of all that has been said in triplicate, with the necessary signatures. Maybe even a notary stamp, if it has been over a year or two. If you have tapes of the conversations I may have to ask the court to make those available for my inspection.” That was the extent of my legal jargon, so I quit and broke out in giggles.

We laughed for quite some time, I could see the look in Mom’s eye, the same look she gets when she talks about me becoming a lawyer like her. I nixed that right away,

“A Mom like you, maybe a model, maybe a teacher, but never a lawyer.” It was my standard reply to her standard question, neither of us changing our wordage. I did get her I love you look, however.

Dinner was unusual to say the least, when Dad arrived I got a mouth open stare that lasted for quite some time. Mom introduced me to him, as his daughter Allison. He was still staring at me, his mind trying to decide what to do. I made the first move going up to him and giving him a hug.

“Daddy, don’t you like your daughter, I know Allison loves her daddy.” Well that was apparently what he needed to hear as he hugged me tight, kissing my forehead many times. Over dinner it was all explained to him, he chuckled several times since he knew the former football coach pretty well. Later in the evening he told Mom he would help paint my room a more feminine color, maybe a canopy bed might be more appropriate now.

Mom confided in me that I had handled Dad well, I was now his daughter in his mind, never to be a son again. We both know this is how it will turn out so be thankful. I asked her about this homecoming queen business, telling her that I saw many problems since I was also playing football.

Unbeknownst to me, she had talked to my coach and they had worked out me leaving the game before half time about fifteen minutes early. The cheerleaders would help me change, apply some makeup, and help me into the car for the ride around the field. My hair would be in a ponytail for that part of the queen’s duties. After the game, the homecoming dance had been set to start later to allow for the queen’s activities. I was still unsure I would be selected to be the Homecoming Queen, though if Tiffany is right it seems to be a sure thing.

“Wow, you start wearing dresses and everything changes.” She told me that a shower after the game would freshen me up, but at halftime I just needed to use a little more perfume. I giggled picturing me at the line of scrimmage smelling like flowers. I guess I could ask my defender if he liked my perfume, before I raced off to get the ball.

Then I thought of playing the second half wearing mascara and lipstick, if one of my teammates made a good block I could kiss him as a reward. Well, I don’t think I need to go there yet, playing football one minute, wearing heels and an evening gown the next just might be enough spice for one night. I will leave the kissing for another time.

I ran through a lot of different scenarios that evening before I made my way to bed. I am sure my imagination got carried away. Some of the things I came up with were pretty ridiculous. Mom poked me in the side after yanking off my covers the next morning. She seemed happy, maybe because she has a daughter for a while. Dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, some fruit and a granola bar, and I was being led out to her car. A short drive and I was deposited back at the salon.

Monica was ready for me, some womanly hips first on the agenda for today. Naked and up on the table again on my stomach. Same rigid thingies as yesterday, but fitting over my hips on the side and behind me over each separate half of my butt. The fat was added, more than yesterday, after the shapes were glued on. The machine returned for an encore performance. Soon, well five hours later, I possessed a cute butt, Monica’s words not mine. After filling the forms the hoses were removed and I ran my hands over my new cute ass.

The rigid forms had a little give in them, but kept their shape. The amazing thing was how they felt, just like real skin. I had yet to feel my breasts, still a little scared of having them in the first place. When I touched the form of my breast, the tissue felt soft and pliable not rigid like yesterday. It also jiggled more, now the need for the bra even more apparent.

Makeup next, definitely another world entirely. She showed me on her face what I was to do, then had me do mine to match. I used several makeup wipes to remove the mess that I made before I started to get the makeup right. Then clean everything off and do it all over again.

For a break from that she had me in some five inch heels walking around the salon. The first few trips were comical, her suggestions helped, and soon I was strutting my stuff with confidence. From the first time the heel was placed on my foot I knew that more than an hour or two in them would result in very tender and sore feet. They were comfortable but the arch of my foot was high, causing an ache in the calves of my legs.

More than a few times she had me back at the makeup thing, cleaning it all off and reapplying it. I even got lessons in applying false eyelashes. I will have to admit that my looks after makeup were 100% female, not a sign of Allen anywhere to be seen, not that my figure with hips and breasts didn’t scream female already.

She gave me a few hints about my voice, with an hour of practice I was definitely female with regards to vocal ability. In fact, after that hour I had a hard time dropping my voice back into a masculine register. The image in the mirror convinced me not to try and drop the voice back into the masculine range, the feminine image requiring something more appropriate.

Next is some deportment lessons, how to sit, what to do about my hands, even a few basic dance lessons were thrown in. I could dance before, but following instead of leading were the focus of these lessons.

Mom showed up, her megawatt smile fully deployed. She came in from a different door to the salon and after hugging me we went back through that door. Imagine my surprise when we walked into a woman’s dress shop, Francine’s dress shop to be specific.

Apparently Turnabout Gurl has a clothing store attached to most of their salons, my Mother shopping for her daughter all afternoon. She showed me a few things she had bought, then we went out to her car. Lucky for me that I was small for my age or I would have never fit in the car. Boxes and bags all over the back seat and even a couple in the middle of the front seat. I was told the trunk was packed also.

“Isn’t this a little much for a short time impersonation? I mean when football season is over will I need all these clothes?”

“We will cover that when we get there, but I doubt you will return to the masculine role. Don’t get your panties in a wad about this, just take one day at a time and let’s see where all of this leads you.”

I laughed at the panties remark, but then thought of how good the ones I have on felt. I also doubt that the breasts that were sucked from my body will suddenly just vanish back into it. Add in the hips and Allen will be very difficult to reproduce.

The next morning it was time for the real world, I dressed like a typical teenage girl, some capris, a cami and a pull over top to make me legal for school. Mom wanted me to wear a dress, but I nixed that, the day might be more trying than I anticipated so minimal is better.

She dropped me off at school, a big change from when I was Allen. Allan used to ride the school bus, he had his driver’s license, but it had been jointly decided to wait on getting him a car until he went to college.

As I entered the school I was warmly welcomed by almost everybody. It did puzzle me some, to be acknowledged as a female so easily. All through the halls they were signs asking for the students to vote for me as Homecoming Queen. When I got to my locker, there were cards all over the front of the locker. I opened a few of them, all thanking me for what I did for the school.

The cheerleaders showed up, surrounding me and then helping get the cards unstuck and in my locker. They walked me to class, then giving hugs and kisses before they went to their own class.

Each teacher that day had me stand, asking the class to show their appreciation for the sacrifice I had made for the school. The applause was genuine and loud. At lunch the cheerleaders had intercepted me and led me to their table. They had gotten me a plate, with all of my favorites on it. They wanted to know how I felt, if I thought I could still play football, and most importantly if I had gotten a gown to wear tonight.

The conversation was interrupted when the PA system announced the winners of the Homecoming Queen and King voting. Allan, now Allison, was flabbergasted when she was announced the winner with ninety five percent of the vote. A fellow football player, the quarterback Chad, was elected Homecoming King.

I winced a little, quickly thinking of some of the things that the king and queen did during the festivities, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I knew Chad was open minded, but treating his former male running back as a female was not part of the deal.

Two more classes that afternoon, then a study hall, followed by a meeting of the football team, and then the big game. Nothing much happened during the rest of the day, although I was asked for a date several times. I tried to talk them out of it, but my repeated statements that I was male fell on deaf ears. I was telling them one thing, but their eyes were telling them something far different.

The football meeting was just some strategy for the game, Coach Stone wanting us to not get cocky about the game. Play your regular game, minimize the mistakes and may the best team win. Our former illustrious leader would make great plans, changing everything we did at the last moment to try and catch the opposition unaware of what we were doing. Sometimes it worked, most of the time it flopped.

I did connect with Chad, apologizing in advance for the situation we were thrust into. He smiled, “Allison I don’t have a problem with you as the Homecoming Queen. You have saved all our butts, besides I think I want that kiss with a terrific looking young woman. It doesn’t bother me in the least, maybe we will both find out that we like it.”

Coach did have one strategy that she made me aware of before we took to the field. She wanted me to apply a full makeup, focusing on the eyes and lips. Then as we lined up for a play she wanted me to flirt with the opposing player. If nothing else make kissee faces at them before the ball was snapped.

We had talked before about the opposing team zeroing in on me during the playoff game, my speed now quite well known through the league. If I could distract several of the defenders, we might get a chance with our other receivers.

Out to the field, me thinking about all of this. If I did get some college interested in me, I wonder if it would be my football skills or my flirting skills that will get the most notice. Then again I could always go into cosmetology, my makeup prowess could be my big break. I had spent twenty minutes on my makeup, even applied some false eyelashes that I had originally intended for the Queen’s festivities.

In the first huddle as we had received the kick and managed to return it to mid-field, Chad took one look at me and started laughing. All the rest in the huddle looked my way and soon we were all laughing out loud.

I did have to make a concession to my new femininity, with my new nails it was a must to wear gloves, and of course Mom found the girlish, laciest pair that fitted very tight to the hand. All the better to keep me from breaking a nail, more importantly to allow me to catch the ball without much interference.

The first play he called was a pass to me about twenty yards out. We broke the huddle and lined up at the ball. My defender took one look and stood up shaking his head. I blew him a kiss as Chad took the ball, I managed to get a five yard lead on my defender and easily caught the pass for a touchdown.

The kiss was not blatant, just me puckering up and making a kissee noise. Our opposition had a conference on the sideline with their coach talking to one of the referees. The other referee jogged over to me and took a look at my face. Before I could say anything he returned to the conference and shortly thereafter it broke up.

Coach Stone and I smiled at each other, they had apparently complained because I was wearing makeup and had been shot down. That is what females do, wear makeup. We kicked off and they managed to run it back to our forty yard line.

They were a good team, quite talented and proficient in their play. I played defense this time around, the player I was defending against almost missed the hike, slow to start running his pattern and seems to be still looking my way every chance he got.

Their quarterback threw the ball to him and I was able to intercept it easily grabbing the pass and taking off for our end zone. As I ran the distance I felt my butt swaying wildly, I am sure it was noticed by more than a few of our opponents.

The rest of the game is just a repeat of what had transpired already. I am sure their coach laid into them at half-time, but the makeup still managed to distract them. At the scrimmage line and even while running patterns, I had several pairs of eyes on me, and not watching what they were supposed to. I made another interception and two more touchdowns that game. When they put two defenders on me it allowed one of our other players to be free, let’s just say it was a rout and leave it at that.

Half time was a hoot for me, the game was going well, and I hardly broke a sweat during the first half. When I was taken out early, the cheerleaders helped me to get into the dress, and changed my hairstyle to go with the gown. I rode in the convertible around the field to loud cheers, then lined up with my escort for the crowning.

Chad had hold of my hand, squeezing it often, in fact, he had lifted me out of the convertible and set me on the ground next to him. After we received our crowns, the kiss was next. I decided to make it a short peck on the lips to keep from embarrassing him, the fact that he was kissing a boy probably not to his liking.

He definitely had other ideas, the kiss was intense and lasted for quite some time to a thunderous applause from the stands. I was wobbly after that kiss and he held me to steady me. The cheerleaders came to my rescue and I was led off the field to get changed back into my uniform.

I regretted getting out of the dress, a drastic change had come over me, and I was embracing the female lifestyle now looking forward to when I could slip back into the dress and maybe dance a little. I made sure my makeup was up to the task and returned to the field.

Suddenly, football had lost a little of its attraction, my thoughts on the dress, my heels and maybe another kiss from Chad. As stated earlier our opponents had difficulty keeping their mind on the game, trying to keep their eyes on me instead. I sat out part of the fourth quarter, Coach Stone trying to keep the game within limits and not humiliate the other team.

As I sat on the sidelines my mind was not on the game but on me as a female. Nothing felt fake, my body looked female, as it should be, since my mind had decided that is now my proper gender. I liked the attention I received from the other boys, Chad was a hunk, but although the kiss was fantastic I was sure there would be someone else more to my liking. Surprisingly another female never entered the picture, my desires seemed to be centered on the masculine side at the time.

Since I had set out part of the fourth quarter I was able to get back to the gym, with help from a couple of the cheerleaders, managed to remove my football uniform and slip into a shower. All of this was done in the girl’s gym. It was a quickie, just my body since I didn’t have the time to dry and curl my hair. Coach Stone even came to help me into the dress with Tiffany helping freshen up my makeup. I felt so good, the female in me quite happy to be in the dress, my hair curled and with appropriate makeup.

I was caught looking in the mirror looking at my reflection, a tear trying to escape from my eye. Tiffany just smiled, I can see that you are really a girl at heart, just enjoy the evening, the rest will straighten itself out. She handed me a Kleenex to stop the tear from ruining my mascara, and led me to the auditorium.

I swayed my hips, enjoying the way the dress swished around my legs, as I followed her to the dance. I could feel every movement of my breasts against the cups of the dress, a most delightful feeling. As we entered the auditorium, I was cheered receiving lots of hugs from the girls. Chad the Homecoming King came to take my hand and led me to the stage to be formally introduced. The principal made the introductions, as I blushed all over as the rest of the students cheered and called my name.

As the music started, I was asked to dance, Chad getting first crack at me. I could see the line forming to the side for the rest of the dances, it looks like I will be doing nothing but dancing, for the whole evening.

Some of my partners were very nimble on their feet, most were not. I was held tenderly by everyone, as if I was made out of porcelain and would break. The dances I had attended earlier in school had a mixture of fast and slow dances, but tonight every dance was slow and romantic. I later found out that the males had paid the band to play nothing but slow and romantic.

I did lay my head on most of their shoulders, it just felt right somehow. I did keep my distance body wise though, not wanting to find out how much I had inspired my dancing partners. I gave each a hug when the dance was over and a brief cheek kiss before I was swept up in the next dance by another partner. I set out one song to use the ladies room, and get something to drink.

When I returned the line was still there maybe even longer. I did notice out of the corner of my eye when Coach Stone stopped several trying to get to dance with me twice. I quick look at my dainty watch told me that the dance should have been over several hours ago, a look at the line showed only two more males to dance with. I danced the last two dances then looked up when Tiffany approached and took my hands leading me to the dance floor again.

The band played Time of My Life and Tiffany led off taking me places I have never been before. She held me close and we moved as one around the dance floor. I am sure it was not even close to the movie, but it felt so wonderful. The entire room was deathly quiet except for the music, but every set of eyes was focused on us. I only looked into Tiffany’s face and eyes, as we danced around the floor, but I could feel everyone else’s attention on us and only us. There were no other dancers, the spotlight following us as she led me through the dance.

When the music stopped I was embraced by her, the sensuous kiss seemed to bore into me. I leaned back into her arms and let the sensations take me away. Then to my surprise the band started playing Hungry Eyes, from that moment on I remembered nothing other than the sheer bliss of being in my true loves arms being caressed and loved.

The kiss at the end of this dance was all I needed. I had found my true love and she shared my love. As we left the dance floor we received hugs, and kisses from the girls but Tiffany had one destination only on her mind. As we approached her car she asked if I needed to go home first. I presumed I was going to her home shortly, so I just made a phone call to Mom.

I turns out that Mom had been at the dance as a chaperone and I hadn’t even seen her. “Yes, I know where you are and where you are going, enjoy yourself. I would like to meet Tiffany when the two of you quit making out, but that can wait until tomorrow. Just remember what love is and cherish it for the rest of your life.”

“I love you Mom, we will be by tomorrow to talk.” I scooted closer to Tiffany and snuggled up as close as I could get to her. At the next light I got another kiss, I hope she never tires of giving them. I know I will never get tired of receiving them. The evening was surreal, romantic, loving, everything a young female could want. I was treated as an equal by Tiffany, I got hugged and cuddled, but she expected the same back from me. It was several hours later when we fell asleep in her bed, each of us holding on to the other tightly, to prevent the other from getting away.

The next morning Tiffany let me borrow a pair of capris and a very brief lacy top. Twice I asked for something a little more coverage wise, but the smile from Tiffany pretty much told me of her answer. We stopped at a drive thru for nourishment, then on to my house.

Tiffany dragged me into the house, then found and confronted my Mother. Hugs were exchanged and then the two went off talking leaving me standing there wondering what is going in. I tried to track them down, wanting to be sure my interests were represented.

Tiffany attacked me, my clothes lost quickly. I was sent to get dressed in my own clothes, and out of their conversation. I hesitated for a second, but when Tiffany approached me taking me in her arms and planted a sensuous kiss on my lips while making my nipples hard as rocks with her ministrations I decided a retreat might be called for. I rubbed my nipples as I walked upstairs, they were already sore, a combination of last night and this morning’s TLC.

I found a dress that looked comfortable. I knew not where it came from, it seemed to fit appropriately, was in a color that I liked and was exquisite on my body. A couple of days as a female and I have already been assimilated. I changed panties, finding a lacy pair that barely covered my assets. They felt so good as I pulled them up my legs. The matching bra was practical, caressing my nipples and comforting at the same time. I slipped on a pair of heels, not even thinking twice about wearing them. The fact they were in the same color as the dress made them my shoes of choice.

I walked back downstairs, the meeting between Tiffany and Mom now apparently over. They were sitting in the kitchen drinking orange juice and eyeing me up as I entered. I got a sensuous kiss from Tiffany, she was definitely not holding anything back because my Mom was in the room. I parked myself on Mom’s lap, time for a little interrogation of my own. Laying my head on her shoulder and looking up at her eyes, Mom broke out giggling at my actions. “You little minx, trying to manipulate the manipulator.”

“Okay, time for a reality check, I asked Tiffany her intentions towards you. She explained her wishes, we planned a fall wedding, after you graduate as a senior. A two bride ceremony, with a honeymoon in Cancun. You will be a stay at home wife, since she already has a career planned. She has been training to take over her Mother’s business and run it. Since you have turned down following your Mother’s career choice a housewife for you might be the only thing you can do justice to. Tiffany wants kids, so a mommy will be added to that job description at a later date.”

“It has been decided that you will be a cheerleader after football season, then a full time cheerleader during your senior year. Of course, two proms, we will select your gowns in a week or two. Weekly appointments at the salon from now on to maintain your looks, maybe a permanent to keep your curls fresh and enticing. I have already thrown out all of your male clothing, no need for it anymore, the space will be sorely needed for your new wardrobe. Now do you have anything to add or any questions?”

I leaned in and hugged Mom, kissed her on the cheek and asked when we can go shopping. Then over to Tiffany and planted a toe curling kiss on her with tongue working it for all its worth. I stepped back her mouth open, short of breath and her tongue partially hanging out.

“No all of that is fine, as long as the two of you are in my life I am happy. Now we are wasting time, I need clothes, jewelry, makeup, shoes, accessories, and my room is so boyish, I simply can’t live like that anymore. So let’s go.”

I think Tiffany and Mom were trying to get me to react by planning my next two years as a female. But it sounded exactly like I wanted it to happen. The wedding, being a housewife, a mommy, and most importantly loved and cared for.

With Tiffany and Mom I would indeed be loved and cared for. I must remember to thank the authorities for making this possible, a misplaced effort to control something turning into a wondrous dream for me. A dream I can truly embrace. Imagine me, a token transsexual, a life I can and will embrace.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Andrea, Politics As A Female

I had entered the political race because of some friends’ urging. It is for state senator in my district. The incumbent James Kincade, recently making a lot of statements that had pissed off a lot of factions. He originally got the office because of his family name. His father and grandfather both were office holders in the state for many years.

They were popular with the voters, mainly due to their fire and brimstone speeches. Looking for accomplishments from these two will leave you with absolutely nothing to show for their combined forty years that they were in office. In other words, typical politicians. In his first term, James kept his mouth closed, not aggravating anybody, and barely squeaked to a narrow fifty vote victory for his re-election.

No bills introduced, he had not even voted on important legislation that was before the Senate. Quite often, he was not even in the chamber when the bills were being debated.

Since then his financial supporters have put pressure on him to come out in favor of their causes. Now, in political circles, it is a fine line to keep your financial supporters happy without aggravating your other constituents. James has apparently forgotten that principle since recently he has attacked abortion, gays, transgender, and women who work. A lot of his constituents in the district felt that in the upcoming term, some of his taunts might actually get introduced as legislation.

His statements were in general terms, but not friendly to any of the groups mentioned. His support mainly came from special interest groups, ones that wanted a specific type of legislation to limit activities of these groups. Unfortunately, there are a lot of these special interest groups, and they contribute great sums of money to gain political clout. Now they wanted him to be more upfront with his views, and visibly support the legislation that they wanted to be passed into law.

I have been in politics since my early teens. My mother, the catalyst that started my political interest. She never made it to state politics, but served on our local school board for thirty-five years. In this state, the position is elected, and every four years, she ran a campaign to get elected. Unlike a lot of other politicians, she made significant inroads in her career.

She found ways to lower the budget, most years, without hurting the quality of education. She pioneered teacher qualifications so that only well-educated teachers ended up getting hired. She instituted anti-bullying rules into the school district when the first cases became prevalent. She served as school board president for twenty-eight of those years, doing as much as she could to further education in this school district. This school district had twenty-two schools, with over twenty-six thousand students enrolled.

Due to her interest in politics and her insights, I became interested, too, while in my teens. Our political party had a group of like-minded young teens that met and participated in many political activities, and I joined when I was thirteen. At eighteen, I became a state committeeman in the party attending state conventions of the party.

I served on committees, making recommendations to the state party on lots of issues. I was a state committeeman for six years, finally resigning the post due to my employment after I graduated from college. I still attended the convention every two years, as a party representative due to my involvement in past years.

The convention had just closed two days ago; this being a presidential election year, always an active and dynamic convention. I was approached by a group of party leaders asking me to run for the state Senate against Mr. Kincade. Most of those people represented groups that his comments had been about during the last few years.

The group that had approached me said that they would back me financially if I decided to run. They didn’t have anybody else to run that they felt would do the job justice, so one of the groups that knows my Mom real well, suggested me. It turns out that they had run this by Mom, she just failed to inform me of their proposal, a frequent trait of her. In her opinion, if they wanted me, they had to do all the prep work themselves, not have her do it for them.

I listened to their proposal, told them that I would think it over, and let them know in the next few days. After they left, another lady that also represents a conservative political faction, came over to me. She warned me to steer clear of that group; they were trouble, and anybody backed by them would face opposition by her group. She represented quite a few zealous religious groups, a frequent supporter of Mr. Kincade, even though he is a member of the opposing political party.

Well, that just about made my mind up for me; if I am being told not to run by some right wing group then I probably needed to run. I had several things I needed to do though, for one thing, I needed someone to help in my campaign. Someone that had contacts with voter groups that I may be lacking in, to balance out my contacts. But first, I needed to confront my Mom about this.

The next night, I showed up at her house, the greeting at the door signifying that she is expecting me.

I explained my conversations with the groups so far, and asked her advice. She smiled but told me, this time, you are on your own. “You have watched the political goings on for years; you need to decide if you want to do this, and then how you will accomplish it.”

Mom never pushed me into things; she planned it out so I would have no trouble if I did, but never goaded me into doing something. Always, the final decision had to be mine. I figured I might get this line of thought, but there was one name I wanted to run past her for my campaign manager if I could talk her into it. I mentioned Debbie as a possible campaign manager, and the smile that appeared on Mom’s face is all that I needed to see.

Debbie is a college friend, also active in the party politics. We have known each other for years, studying together, participating in the state conventions, and were good friends. When I called her later that night, I found out they had also approached her about my running for the same office, the group apparently doing their groundwork thoroughly. I asked if she would go to dinner with me tomorrow night.

“I have some things to ask you, and I need some help in making my decision to run or not.”

She accepted, asking if I had talked to my Mom yet. I told her that I had, but not what she said. Debbie blurted it out, “Well, what did she say?” I laughed as Debbie can be real blunt at times. I told her, “Mom told me that this decision had to be mine alone.”

With that being said, Debbie chimed in, “That is what I thought she would say. You know she wants you to run; she just isn’t going to tell you so.” We decided on a small Chinese restaurant that is never busy for dinner, a quiet place with excellent food at reasonable prices.

The next day dragged on; it seemed the clock actually ran backward most of the day since the evening took forever to arrive. I had taken a job in public relations for a large corporation after college. There were three others in my department, my boss, and two female press aides, all of them quite good. I mainly did the wording of all the releases, and on occasion did TV interviews. We ran the public face of the company, press releases, comments on community relations, participation in community events and anything having to do with the company and their customers.

Time finally progressed enough, for me to head to the restaurant. Debbie waiting for me there. She lived only two blocks from it, so for her to get there was not a problem. I got a tender hug as we embraced, and then they showed us to our table. We used to eat here often, so the owners knew us well. Right away, two iced teas were delivered, and Sue-ling, the wife of the owner, asked if we wanted the usual?

I told her ‘yes’, and asked if it could be delayed for an awhile. She smiled, we have to put it on to cook, so it will be fresh, but will take a little over an hour to finish. I smiled back as she has already anticipated our needs, and we just got there. It has been about four months since we have been here last; jobs and careers taking their toll on activities we used to do weekly.

I brought Debbie up to speed about the offers of help and the lady threatening me if I ran. She told me the group is behind you, but fear that you are like your mother.

“You will vote your conscious, not what the group would like you to do. Mr. Kincade is, however, worse and they fear that he will do a lot of damage during his next term of office. They know he has taken a lot of money from the special interest groups, and that puts him in debt to them. Now he is going to have to support some of their more outlandish ideas actively.”

We talked for quite some time, but Debbie never entered into the decision about me running for office. I finally asked her directly if she thought I should run. She looked at me for quite some time, before opening her mouth. That is pure Debbie, not sticking out her neck until she has thought it through.

“Yes, I think you should run, there is nobody else that has a chance to defeat James. I am sure it will be a dirty campaign, full of accusations, lies, and deceit. To defeat you they will have to dig deep, then probably have to make something up to keep the people from voting for you.

I have heard from a friend that Mr. Kincade is aware of you possibly running, so their preparations have already started. You will, I am sure, regret the decision to run before the campaign is over, dirty politics never a good experience.”

As the food is being brought out, I asked her if she will run my campaign, her instant one-word reply, “Yes.” The food is excellent, better than I remembered, but maybe not having it for a while made it taste better somehow. We chit chatted for quite some time about anything and everything. The campaign, our jobs, and the future we visualized.

We decided to go back to her apartment, and talk some more about the campaign. After paying the bill, we walked a couple of blocks to her apartment and entered. She opened a bottle of wine and told me to get comfortable while she changed clothes. She came out a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a sweater. She curled up on the sofa, and asked what I had in mind for the campaign.

First, I asked her about her job; she’s a personal assistant to the chairman of a large corporation in town. She is good at it, and has been ever since she was hired for the position coming out of college. She runs the company from her desk, a fact that her father, the chairman, appreciates greatly.

The company employees do not know of her relationship with the chairman; she uses her Mother’s maiden name to prevent them finding out. She giggled, “He will just have to run it a while himself; he is capable, just lazy since I came along. He is very aware of Mr. Kincade and will be happy to share me with you for a good cause.”

She asked what I was going to do with regards to my job; I told her that one lady could easily handle replacing me, and that the company has already given me time off to pursue the position. They think it will do them some good to have a state senator to do their deeds, but I have already told them I will do what is right for my constituents, not what they desire.

Like we did in college, we presented any idea we could come with, then debated its worthiness. Over the next few hours, a lot of crazy ideas were discussed. As we made our way through the maze of ideas, my mind began to formulate a possible strategy. I knew I wanted to run a totally unorthodox campaign. I didn’t want TV ads, newspaper ads, or a multitude of debates. One debate a couple of days before the election would be the best. That limits the number of lies that they can be presented to the electorate about me.

Debbie began to see where I was going and added some thoughts to the overall idea. She thought more along of meet and greet with lots of groups of possible voters. Then I suggested maybe work with them on a project, free labor, and maybe a contribution to help them fund the project. We both liked that train of thought, and soon we had a list of possible groups and projects to help the campaign.

We both wanted to do something that would trigger James temper, a trait that he is widely known for. If we could trigger an outburst where he loses his cool, that would give us something to use against him come debate time. I could see the smoke from a mega Debbie idea coming from her ears, but when I asked about it, she said that she had to check with someone first before she revealed the idea.

In fact, she wanted to do so tonight, so I had to go. She was giggling and pushing me to the door at the same time. I have seen her like this only once before, and that was the time she embarrassed a professor so bad that he resigned from the university. Later, I learned he had tried to molest Debbie, going as far as ripping her blouse before she could get away. Her revenge before a packed classroom probably a college classic by now.

I walked back to the restaurant to get my car and then made my way home. I had bought a small two bedroom home when my father died with the money I received from his will. He had taken care of both Mom and me with a five million dollar insurance policy split between us. Mom had put away money all during their life, and she had more than she could spend already, so she gave me her share also. I still miss my father; he always wanted me to excel, knew I would do it in politics and was a big supporter.

He supported Mom also during all her election campaigns, he met groups of people for her, posted signs, even attended some debates that she had already committed to, but was elsewhere at the time. He never wanted to share in the victory, his help getting her elected and Mom’s happiness is all he wanted out of life.

When I got home I called Mom; I wanted to run something past her for her approval. “Debbie has agreed to be my campaign manager, that I indeed was going to run, but I am not taking any contributions for my campaign from anybody.” There was silence on the other end of the phone; I wasn’t sure now that she hadn’t commented. She told me to tell her the rest; she knew that I had other thoughts bouncing around in that pretty head of mine.

She always considered me pretty, and told me so many times. It always embarrassed me, because young men are not supposed to be considered pretty. She did it no matter what and continued every chance she got. I told her that Debbie and I were thinking of throwing out the book on this election bid. Nothing by the book, but maybe something to get James to open his big mouth due to his temper.

Mom agreed that would make it harder for their campaign to counter when they couldn’t figure out what tactic I am using. Then I asked the big question; I got part way through the question explaining to her that I wasn’t taking any contributions from groups or individuals, when she told me that it is okay to use my inheritance to fund the campaign. “For once, you are using your head for something other than to look pretty.” She giggled, knowing that would get me going.

She then surprised my telling me that I needed to take Debbie’s approach to the campaign and embrace it heartily. It is way off the chart different, but will guarantee you a win in her opinion.

I asked her how she knew about it; Debbie is still working on the idea. Mom giggled, “When you embrace the changes that are needed to win, you will see the wisdom of the plan. Debbie, another close friend, and I have been working on this idea for months. Do you honestly think that that group decided to ask you to run by themselves without a little push in the right direction? You need to have a little more appreciation for your Mother and Debbie.”

I told her thanks for the info, but asked when I, the candidate, is be let in on the main part of the plan; to be allowed to embrace the plan? My Mom just said, “Soon, really soon.” She told me she loved me. “In case you weren’t aware of it, Debbie loves you too, and has for years. But my pretty dumb blonde son has had his finger up his butt, and hasn’t been aware of any of this. This is your Mother, and you better start acting like the pretty intelligent human being that you are. Now tell me you love me and hang up.” I did.

I laid on the bed trying to make sense of what she has told me. Debbie in love with me, how did I miss that? Then, I started wondering what grand scheme of things they were working on for me. Like usual, I drifted off to sleep, then I woke once during the night to use the bathroom, and then drifted back to sleep. I did that often in college too; too much brain activity and I used sleep as a way to handle the problem. Luckily, I knew my subjects pretty well since the lack of studying never really affected my grades.

The next morning is eye-opening in more ways than you can imagine. Debbie, knocking on my door at six-thirty, the first. She handed me a pair of pink sweats and told me to put them on my body. I came out with them on, embarrassed as hell, but still not awake enough to protest much. She took out my ponytail and brushed my hair out so that it laid on my shoulders. Given a power bar and hustled out the door. A short drive later she pulled alongside the road, got out and handed me a bunch of black trash bags and an EZ Reacher tool that helps in picking up garbage.

I stand there in a daze as she puts the bags in a bright pink satchel and puts the strap over my shoulder. I start to ask what this is all about, but then she slips a vest looking piece of clothing over the top of the sweat suit? I didn’t notice the writing on the back; I really am not even awake yet. She points ahead to the side of the road telling me to pick up the garbage and place it in the bag. When the bag is full, tie the bag and leave it alongside the road for collection.

“You will most likely have some press soon to take a few pictures of your efforts. Do not talk to them, just continue your efforts. I want you to spend at least three hours doing this, and I will be trailing behind to observe and handle the press.

When the pickup catches up with you later, load the last bag in the pickup and get in the truck. We will meet for lunch shortly after that, and I will explain if you have woken enough by then to understand my explanation.”

She kissed me on the lips passionately and then she got into her car and drove off. I stood there for a couple of minutes, a blank look on my face, then when a passing car honked at me, I waved and got started.
Over the next few hours, I used just about all my bags. Numerous press reporters are taking pictures of me, the red from my embarrassment attired in a pink sweat suit adding to the pictures they took of me. I turned several times to see Debbie talking to them and then I heard a horn honk near to me. The pickup was next to the road, and I placed my bag in the truck and got in as he drove off. The truck filled with the bags that I had done, almost to overflowing.

The driver is a friend of Debbie’s, and he complimented me on my civic mindedness, also that my sweat suit is so cute. He dropped me off at a restaurant twenty minutes later, and Debbie met me out front. She helped me remove the vest, and I then saw the writing on the back of the vest. In bold print, it said vote Andrea for state senator. I looked at her then back to the vest then giggled. Yeah, I giggled, now I could see some of their plan coming together. Unfortunately, at that time I didn’t realize the full extent of the plan.

My given name is Andrew, so Andrea is just a variation on my name. The pink sweat suit and the brushed hair made me look like an Andrea, but I didn’t see how that was going to get me votes. I knew it would irk Mr. Kincade; that is one plus. Debbie managed to get the press to cover it, but I didn’t see the tie-in yet.

She dragged me into the restaurant and back to a private room used for groups. Then I suddenly stopped, there in the room is my Mother, Debbie’s mother, my boss, and the leaders of the party that had approached me. I sat down at a table a little timidly not knowing what is going to happen. Debbie handles all of the talking, starting off with the fact that I am going to run for the office. Then in her next breath, the campaign will not accept any monies from individuals or businesses. Andrea will finance the campaign herself.

I looked up at her, the what are you doing look beginning to make its appearance on my face. We do need your help in other matters, though. Andrea is not going to run any radio, TV, or newspaper ads. We want all our focus on meeting people face to face and talking with them about their concerns and our ideas. The litter walk a first step, tell all your friends and come join us next weekend. The only caveat is that all parties have to wear some pink, the more, the better. We will furnish everything else.

Now did you guys have any luck getting the petitions signed for Andrea? Several people got up and brought stacks of petitions to Debbie. They gave her the total count obtained and signed the state form verifying that to their knowledge all signatures are valid. She used the adding machine to run the totals. She smiled, “We now have enough signatures to file with the Secretary of State to get our name on the ballot.”

One of the party leaders asked how the name change is coming along. Debbie smiled, “It will be official Monday at Eleven A.M. when Andrea appears before the judge.”

I am listening to all of this; I didn’t even know that we had any petitions circulating to get enough names to file to be on the ballot. The name change also a surprise. I guess it was a wise decision to make her my campaign manager since otherwise I would be lost even worse than I am now. Debbie’s mother asked how the explanation went when the people asked who Andrea was.

There was no problem; we told them that it was Andrew, but because of what Mr. Kincade had said, she had decided to run as a female. A couple of the guys wanted to know when they would get a good look at Andrea, but other than that there is no problem.

I just sat there dumbfounded; all of this going on and I hadn’t a clue about any of it! My Mom had the biggest shit eating grin on her face, almost ear to ear. Mom and Debbie’s Mother took over making appointments for my help, a possible donation, or a meeting that I needed to attend. Debbie excused us, and we left the restaurant. She led me to her car, then helped me into the front seat. A short drive later we pulled up to a salon in a quite ritzy district of town. All of this time, I just sat there, way too much info to process; definitely putting me on over load.

The Senate district covered half of the city and most of the county, there being fifty districts in the state. We had more of an urban population and a smaller district, where some of the other districts had a much larger area, but more of a rural population. This upscale part of town is in our senate district, just a part of town that I don’t often visit. Debbie turns to me, time for you to meet Francine.

We enter the salon and head back to one of the offices at the rear of the salon. The sights and smells are totally female. The air smells like carnations, similar to a sexy woman’s perfume, maybe a little more flowery. The décor of the salon is way over the top feminine. I swear there are enough pink objects in the salon to cause a color catastrophe.

Then I notice some of the customers, I am expecting to see females all through the salon, but blinking twice to make sure my eyes are not betraying me, the majority are males. They look feminine, but since they are apparently a work in progress, there is still a few traces of maleness showing.

Debbie leads me through to one of the offices in the back, and an introduction to Francine is made. A tall absolutely gorgeous female that really commands respect. I attempt to shake her hand, but that is not the greeting she has in mind.

I am engulfed in a massive hug and quickly find my head pulled to her breasts. The scent emanating from her seeps into my nose causing me to surrender to her presence. She pulls back to arm’s length and studies me for a minute, and then tells Debbie that the choice is the right one.

Again I am lost to what they are talking about, Francine sees that, and pulls me to a seat in front of her desk. I guess the prominent part of the plan needs to be advised and of her role in this great scheme of things. Debbie sits next to me and Francine starts. She tells me that the original idea came up during a lunch meeting a little over a year ago. Since then things have been added, some taken away, but the plan pretty much stayed intact.

Mr. Kincade made a few statements to a few prominent people of this district, essentially making it clear that he would introduce some bills to make a lot of people very uncomfortable. Those groups he targeted were the gays, transsexuals, and women who work, instead of being a housewife. Several of us have kept an eye on the state legislature and, unfortunately, the makeup of the houses might allow some of his bills into law. The Governor has always been in the pocket of special interest factions so he would most likely sign the bills into law if passed.

With his re-election coming up, we knew that he would wait until after the election before he introduced his controversial bills. We needed someone to defeat him in a decisive manner so that the word would get out that we mean business, and the people of the state were back in control. Many a lunch has dealt on finalizing the plan so that we could now implement it.

Now, from the first talk of a candidate, your name has been the only choice. All of the people that know you directly and through word of mouth know you are decisive; and will vote your conscious, not what special groups want. I know of you because of my dealings with your mother and because of your involvement at the party convention. I have observed for quite some time your actions and your opinions, and I have complete faith that we are picking the right ‘female’ for the job.

I started to say something, but she placed a finger to her lips telling me to wait, and then I could speak. We knew when we planned this, that you'd be entering the race as a female, would set him off, the tirade that will result when we file with the secretary of state will cause his undoing. With you portraying a transgender person, one of his targets for his supporting groups; we will have pushed all the right buttons to cause an outburst. That outburst, played against your civic actions, your meet and greet approach, and your refusal to take any contributions, will convince the electorate who is the better candidate.

Now for your involvement in all of this. We are aware that no one has asked you if this is something you want to do. The consensus of opinion among all of us is that you are truly female down deep inside. I will let Debbie and your Mother point out instances and actions that prove our point. I need you to swallow a bit of your pride, and do this for us. There is more at stake than your pride and bruised ego.

Now we will ask a lot of you in this transformation, and I mean a lot. When you leave here, all you will see in the mirror is a young female, quite pretty, and confident in her role as the next state senator. This is not a masquerade just to get a victory over Mr. Kincade. This transformation is for the full four-year term of the Senate.

My technicians will give you breasts and a vagina of a female, hair extensions, a hair free body and a wardrobe to suit a female state senator. Other than what is in your mind, you will be female in all ways.

I know this is a lot to take in; that is why we have waited until the last to tell you. From what I know of you, I think if you look deep inside, you will find the true Andrea already exists, she just has not had a chance to come out. Please take a few minutes to think it over, I will try to answer any questions you may have. When you have made up your mind, we will either bring Andrea out, or try to find another way to stop Mr. Kincade.

This office is available for you; I will step out for a while when you decide, pick up the phone and dial 1313 and I will return. As she left, I received another massive hug, then she closed the door behind her. I looked over at Debbie and stared at her, causing her to look down. I told her that I needed the truth from her, no more lies or convenient omission of facts. She swallowed hard and managed to look at me.

“Do you love me and will you be my wife or whatever, depending on how I turn out?” It took her a couple of minutes to decipher that question then she launched herself in my direction squeezing the life out of me. The funny part was one of her nipples ended up in my mouth. Now, what I did with that will just have to remain in a non-disclosed file. The fact that she hit me with such force that my chair almost toppled over backward another indicator of her happiness.

Francine heard the commotion and re-entered the room. She looked at Debbie and I then giggled. I will leave you two be for a few more minutes, but a couple of my techs are anxious to turn this pretty individual into a gorgeous woman. She left again leaving, Debbie sitting on my lap staring into my eyes with tears leaking from her eyes. She put kisses all over my face, even a couple on one ear, but didn’t respond to my question. I just sat there staring back.

Finally, she remembered that she needed to answer and whispered ‘yes’ all over my face. First a kiss then a ‘yes’, then another kiss and another ‘yes’. I am sure I had more lipstick on my face than Debbie had by the time she finally quieted down.

I grabbed both sides of her face and made her look me in the eyes, asking if I turn out prettier than her, will she still love me? Well, that got her, I received a slap to the arm, then another kiss. “We both know that you will be prettier than me, a fact that I will have to put up with regretfully.

But if I ever catch you looking at anything, male or female, with lust in your eyes, I will personally castrate you right where you stand! Do I make myself clear?” I swallowed and told her, “Yes dear, I understand.” We both were giggling when Francine came back in and dragged me to my first treatment.

As they were stripping off my clothes, I saw Francine push Debbie out the door, telling her to round up some votes, but don’t come back before closing. Francine stayed for a few minutes, wanting me to be sure this is what I wanted.

“I am not sure, for some reason, it sounds like the best approach, like me asking Debbie to marry me just now. I really can’t put it into words, I guess Andrea is running the show now, and Andrew is only along for the ride. I hope this works like everybody thinks it will, the plan sounds good, but I am scared that I will not be able to pull off my part of the grand scheme. Along with the new body, I do hope I get an owner’s manual on the body with the deal.”

I get another hug from her, and she introduces me to Beth, my stylist for today. Beth is very talkative, and soon we are in a conversation. I find it hard not to participate, as we talk about everything. She is a stylist at their Maryland location, and was flown in to work on me. She knows about the plan, thinks it will be a hoot, but also thinks I will be quite comfortable in the role. So lost in our conversation that I don’t realize that I have no body hair left other than on top of my head. She told me it is a cream that kills the hair root, allowing for its removal, then stops the hair root from ever growing again.

As we discuss the litter pickup I participated in this morning, she moved a large machine over my chest. Two cups attached to my breast area and sealed to the skin. Then some fatty solution is injected into the forms. The pump turned on, started pulling the skin into the cups, Beth told me I would soon have real breasts just like a female. After the cups fill, an injection is made into each breast and during the next hour the breast becomes stable. When the vacuum is released the breasts stay the size of the cups, the cups eventually dissolving over the next few days. They will react just like female breasts including nipple hardening and, of course, bounce all over the place.

For a moment, Andrew tries to interject his opinion in matters, but is swiftly dealt with and sent back to his room. The procedure is more than just a masquerade, real breasts, not easily camouflaged since the cups are quite good sized. I am scared in a way, but then in the same thought, I can’t wait to show them off in a low cut dress. Okay, Andrea has thought this out a lot more than I am apparently aware of, her desire overriding my concerns. Beth has to shake me to get me to return to the present, asking me if I wanted a landing strip or just wanted to go commando.

I look between my legs, and she has that cute smile staring back at me. Well, what will it be? I try to get into the swing of things and ask if I can have a cute little heart. That sent Beth into a fit of giggles, so to get even for my apparently wrong choice, she slips her hand over the tip of my penis and the sensation sends my head back sharply to the table.

“That’ll teach you to ignore my question!” It took a while for normal breathing to return, but when it did, I lifted my head and saw only two soft sensuous lips where my male appendage used to be situated. I smiled as she did give me a cute little heart surrounding the soft lips after all. Andrea had won out, for all intents and purposes, my classification is now as a woman.

Beth moved on to other things as she moved me to a chair, and started work on my hair. I had let it grow to slightly below shoulder length. For the litter pickup, I allowed my hair to be brushed out to lay on my shoulders. Beth came to stand next to me with two bundles of hair slightly lighter in color and considerably longer than the hair on my head at present. Another technician came to help and soon the longer hair is being glued into my own hair. Beth said that it is being glued to my hair right above the scalp, presenting a natural bond and will last till the original hair grew out.

It took them quite a while, but the longer hair soon became complete. It changed my looks, making me look quite a bit more like a female. Then Beth cut all the hair blending the two lengths to make a decidedly feminine hairstyle. I did get bangs, although they were long and would normally be brushed to one side or the other.

From the hair, we moved directly to my eyebrows, some hot wax and they were no longer. What little that was left arched way above my eyes in an exaggerated look. Beth seemed to enjoy the next part as she pierced my ears. Three perfectly aligned holes courtesy of a laser and filled with very feminine earrings. The hoops were hard to get used too; then she added a long dangly earrings to the bottom holes that almost came to my chest. The brushing of the two lower earrings keeping me constantly distracted as they brushed across my neck and upper chest.

Next, followed three hours of how to do my makeup. She would show me how to do it, then I would be expected to do it myself. After we were down to lipstick, I thought we were done. Nope, clean it all off, and I had to do it again from the start.

Then Beth moved on to clothes, but before I can slip on panties and a bra, I needed a corset fitted to my body. I tried to remind her that I run every day, am going to be doing the litter pickup every weekend, the corset will just get sweaty and be in the way. The biggest smile came to her face as she smugly stated, “That is why I got you twelve corsets so you will always have a fresh one.” The corset is snug, real snug, but I still could take in a breath or two on occasion.

It did change my figure significantly though. My breasts seemed larger than I originally thought since a lot of extra skin and tissue got pushed out the top of the corset. Same for my hips, I now actually had some hips. Probably two to three inches larger than before. Then came the panties and bras. They had assembled me a complete wardrobe from the skin out for my campaign persona. Everything business like and proper for an executive. With the panties on she showed me how to get my breasts into the cups of the bra.

The bra did take a little of the strain off as the breast was hanging down from my chest. The best advantage I could see to wearing one is that it helped with the bouncing. The constant moving of the tissue did distract me, how could it not?

Beth helped me transfer my things from my wallet to my purse, and then on cue Debbie sauntered into the room. She took one look at me, then squealed! Everybody in the salon turned to see what the commotion is about, Debbie smiled and giggled while I tried to make myself invisible.

Francine came out to look also, gave me a bigger than life hug, then whispered, “As you do your meet and greet, keep in mind who the person inside of you really is. No quick decisions made, but, after all is said and done, I think Andrea will be the female entering the Senate chamber to become our new senator.”

Dragged from the salon, I had an appointment with a ladies club executive committee in thirty minutes. Debbie drove me there, the heels that I am wearing not made for quick maneuvering. I exited her car, straightened my skirt, and made for the door of their offices. Entering, I introduced myself as Andrea, a candidate for State Senate; I would like to talk to them about the election and convince them to support me.

They invited me into a lounge, and we talked for quite some time. Asked a lot of questions, I answered all of them honestly. Never once is my portraying of a female brought into the discussion.

I wanted to be honest with them; I wanted the truth out there if they were not aware of my circumstances. Ms. Bekins, the president of the club, told me that they were aware because Francine was a member of their group for many years. They wanted to see how I presented myself, was I a farce of the female persona, or was I conducting myself as a young woman concerned about the election, and the office of State Senator.

Debbie had stayed silent the whole time letting me handle things as I saw fit. Several of the ladies gave her names and organizations that I needed to see and approach about the campaign. I invited them to one of my litter pickups, but told them they had to be sure to wear some pink. They invited me to one of their full meetings and asked me to consider joining their group.

They do a lot of fundraising for local charities, just concluding one for the children’s hospital. I asked if they met their goal, Ms. Bekins saying they were a couple of hundred dollars short, but were happy with the turnout and the funds they were able to raise.

I dug in my purse for my checkbook, how a woman can find anything in one, is a mystery to me. I found it and wrote her a check for five hundred dollars. Before she could say anything, I told her that I was not running ads, either radio or TV.

This is where I want my money spent, on the people of this community. I am not trying to buy your votes, you can vote for whoever you wish, but the ultimate winners today is the children. I gave each lady a hug and thanked them for their time. I told them I hoped to see them this weekend at the litter pickup, then turned and left.

Debbie and I made it to her car, then situated ourselves in the seats. She turned to me, smiled and asked when did I become such a girl. I giggled and jokingly asked “Isn’t this what you and Mother wanted me to do?” The quick nod, as she put the car in motion, the only answer I was going to get today. Twenty minutes of driving got us to our next destination.

A small non-denominational church on the edge of town. It catered to the Hispanic people, but there were several races present as we drove up. Debbie had taken the time to brief me on the way over; they were trying to build a daycare facility so that members of their church could have a place to leave their children while they worked. One spouse’s wage not enough to get by with anymore.

I got out and greeted several of the members. They were trying to figure out how and who to get to put a roof on their addition that they had constructed. I looked for a building permit but saw none. I recommended some contractors for the roof, but mentioned that the county is not going to be happy that you don’t have a building permit. I could see from the looks I was getting that they were totally unaware that one is necessary. I took out my cell phone, called one of the contractors about the roof and asked him to come out and give an estimate.

The roofing contractor turned up quickly; his other job happened to be just down the road. I knew him from some of the political groups he helped sponsor. I explained what they were trying to achieve and if he could give them a good bid on the job. The head of the group explained what they wanted; he made a few suggestions that would save them some money.

While the church members were talking it over he was coming up with a figure that he could do the work for, I talked to him for a minute or two. It was my suggestion that if he helped them out by lowering the bid, I would get him some free advertising.

I did caution him that by doing it, he might be including himself in some nasty crap from Mr. Kincade about my campaign. He smiled, “I remember you, Andrea, although that name is a lot more fitting than what you used before. No problem, the more he dishes out, the deeper the hole he is making for himself.” I tried to pay him for some of the work, but he declined.

You just maneuver yourself into office, and then at your swearing in I get a kiss and a hug. I agreed, what is it with all of these guys and their kisses. He showed me the bid, then walked over to their leader. The bid was very low; I doubt he would make any money on the deal at that price. He got a handshake in agreement. Then after telling the others of the contractor’s bid, he received many hugs and kisses from the grateful females in the group.

I then called the county asking to speak with one of the inspectors. I explained the situation, told them the work so far is to code and asked if he could check the construction out if he approved could he then issue a building permit. I told him I would pay for the permit and any penalties incurred. I told him my name and told him I would hang around until he was able to get here. He asked if I knew him, I just let the subject drop.

About an hour later, one of the inspectors showed up, I met him at his car and explained everything to him. He looked at the work so far, smiled then issued a permit. He tried to explain to them what to do as each part of the construction is completed. I mentioned who I thought the roofing contractor was going to be, and he recorded it on his forms.

He pulled me aside and asked if I remembered him from college. The light came on, but then I blushed as I knew he was aware of Andrew, my current looks far from what Andrew looked like in college.

He mentioned that he had heard a rumor that Andrew was running for State Senate as a female, he didn’t believe it until he pulled up. His next comment surprised me even more. Andrea is one good looking female; I might just vote for her just because she is beautiful. My face is red, in fact, most of my body seems to be red.

I ask how much for the permit, and penalties, he smiles I think twenty dollars and a kiss will settle the bill. Now I am in full blooming red Technicolor. I manage to get a twenty from my purse and hand it to him. He lowers his head to my cheek and gives me a tender peck. I get a hug, and he hands me a permit.

He gets in his truck and heads off. Debbie approaches me, smiling. “Don’t you try and deny the fact that you are so girly. No male no matter who he is could have pulled that off as easy as you handled the situation. In case you weren’t looking, he had to leave because his pants were tented out to there, I wonder who had that effect on him.”

We chatted with the church group some more and told them we would be back when it is time to paint the inside. Debbie and I got hugs from everybody, several Gracias, and a kiss on the cheek from several of the men. Several were planning to help on the litter walk this weekend, a way to pay me back for my help.

The rest of the afternoon was spent talking to people in groups, then when we had caught up with the unofficial appointments, we stopped and talked to some people on the street. Most were friendly, the females more interested and listening to my ideas than the males. My breasts did get a lot of time in the spotlight, a favorite focus of a male’s eyes. Debbie had cards made out listing the office number we were using and also my cell phone. We did tell everyone we would not answer the cell phone after ten at night.

If they had questions, wanted help in a project or ideas for bills, feel free to call. Debbie estimated that we had met five hundred possible voters by six o’clock when we stopped for the evening. When we got to my house, my land line was beeping with messages. I went to the phone, and Debbie turned on the TV to get the last of the news.

On the screen was pictures of me doing litter pickup, and then an interview with Mr. Kincade. He was obviously totally out of control wanting the people of the district to call for my arrest and incarceration due to my actions today. How any male can prance around in dresses and expect people to take him seriously was beyond him.

Then the station played an interview with the people of the small church. They thanked me publicly for helping them, mentioning that I never asked for money or favors from them. They mentioned that all of them would be with me on Saturday for the litter pickup. Debbie and I hugged and bounced around the living room. Just like they had planned, I got favorable press coverage, Mr. Kincade looking more like the bigot he is.

The phone rang, its Mom wanting to know if we had seen the news. I told her, “Yeah, we were watching it right now.”

“Not that one, the five o’clock news ran a thirty minute special on your exploits today. It included an interview with Francine, the ladies club asking you to join their organization, the small church and an interview with the building inspector. No mention of Mr. Kincade at all, a fact that I am sure he is irate over.”

We talked late that night, about what we had accomplished, Debbie warning me he has not fired the first shot yet, he will and the resulting mess that will happen sure to offset a lot of our work. I just told her then we will have to work harder and strive to meet more people. For some reason, my appearance and mode of dress never came up. It is like I have been Andrea all my life.

I went back to my apartment; we knew that his people would be watching us looking for anything to use against us. I got undressed and slipped into the new nightie included in my wardrobe package. I stopped frequently looking at my image as I went back and forth to the bathroom and the kitchen, each time the image very feminine.

The gals at the salon told me that I needed to put up my hair at night to keep it from becoming tangled. Easier said than done; I did manage to get it into a braid, after the tenth time I had attempted that maneuver. Believe me it wasn’t pretty, more out of the braid then in it.

Sleep came eventually, but being awake allowed me to rerun the day’s activities. When I started yawning, I knew that the day was finally over, a day that I would treasure for a long time.

True to the nature of politics the next day started out with numerous calls from the press wanting my reaction to Mr. Kincade’s latest accusations. By the time Debbie had arrived, I had a list of more than thirty claims by him on my unorthodox behavior. The press questions were all handled the same way.

Yes, I am transgender, I will dress as a female from now on, and that doesn’t change my opinion on what Mr. Kincade has done for the voters of this district, absolutely nothing. I will continue to meet the people of this district, share my ideas with them, and help them in projects that affect them.

Debbie hauled me out shortly after I managed to finish dressing, my complaining that I didn’t even have my makeup on yet. She apparently wasn’t listening to me. Then in the car, she reminded me of the court appearance to change my name. I got, at least, part of my face on, Debbie laughing at my concern that I had my makeup on and look girly, since only two days ago, I was a card carrying male.

We entered the courtroom, a female judge presiding and we sat in the front of the seats. My attorney showed up soon after that, and a few minutes later my name was called by the bailiff. Right after that, we saw one of Mr. Kincade’s cronies enter the courtroom. Debbie pointed him out to our attorney and she pulled a file out of her briefcase and presented my case.

The cronies stood up and asked the judge if he could speak to the court. She asked about what, he stated that this was obviously a means to deceive the voters into thinking that this male is a transgender and only for the purpose to gain votes. She listened then turned to my lawyer. She got up, approached the bench laying a stack of files on the judge’s desk.

She told the judge that you will find a transcript from two psychologist’s stating that Andrew is transgendered. Those you will note are from five years ago. Second, we are not using subterfuge here. The candidate is approaching the voters only as Andrea, no mention of Andrew is made or implied. Next, you will find thirty plus references of Andrea, complimenting her on her resolve and intelligence on matters that concern the electorate. Most of these references are from prominent people in government and politics.

Some of these people knew her as Andrew, but when we asked for the references, all parties knew exactly who we were referring to in our inquiry. Andrea just wants her birth records set straight, she is a female in mind and wants to live her life as such, the name change allowing her to do it with less stress.

The judge looked through the papers occasionally looking up from the stack to look over at me. She told Mr. Kincade’s representative to either sit down or leave the courtroom. He chose to leave. She approved the name change signing the document to make it legal. Then she asked if I might have a few moments to see her in her chambers alone.

I feared the worse, but Debbie hugged me telling me not to worry. Since I had nodded my acceptance, she adjourned the court and went to her chambers. I stood up and followed, knocking on her door before I entered. She showed me to a seat in front of her desk, and I set down being careful to adjust my skirt before doing so.

She looked at me for several minutes, then asked if I had been advised of all of this before I entered the courtroom. I didn’t lie; I told her of the things I knew about, but some of the documents presented were not known to me before the court date. She let me look through the references, and I am floored at the people that had written them and what they said about me. All of the people I had interaction with over the years, but most of them before they gained a more prominent office in government.

She asked about the psych evaluations. She handed me the evaluations, and I noticed the doctor is the same one I saw at my mother’s request before entering college. I told her I saw the doctor, but I never saw the evaluations until today. She told me that I am extremely lucky to have such good friends and relatives, especially your Mother, to guide you and look after you. She is sure that I have not heard the last from Mr. Kincade about your change of sex and name change. But your straight forward handling of things is the best way to detour his efforts.

Now I have a favor to ask of you. You are not required to do it, but I think it might be just the thing to help in your campaign. I am head of the hospital auxiliary, we often read to the younger patients, play with the toddlers, stage plays for their entertainment, and generally try to make their time in the hospital more enjoyable and less stressful. From time to time we have a lot of kids that are in the confused gender stage of their life.

Their home life is usually chaotic, one or more of their parents are not present in their lives, and the school life they have to endure would task most of us to the utmost. Most of them bullied or have been, their appearance often putting them in an unfavorable situation causing the older students to pick on them and abuse them. I would like to you just talk with them, not necessarily reveal yourself to them, but with your unique perspective on both sexes, I think you could counsel them wisely in ways to be able to live their lives a little more peacefully.

I told her that I would love to, but I had one condition that must be met first. She smiled and asked me what your condition is? I told her at no point was I to be alone with a child or children, in a political campaign with a known transgender person, lots of accusations could result. I don’t care about my reputation, but I would not allow anything to happen to the child.

“I knew when I asked you, that would be you first thought and you did not disappoint me.” I got a hug, and she would let me or Debbie know when we could help. I told her evenings would be best, and I will be there.

I stepped back out to the courtroom and Debbie, and my attorney are waiting for me. The attorney handed me my copy of the name change papers and she left. Debbie grabbed my hand, and we were off. I had an appointment with a civic organization about their concerns and wishes for the next year. We arrived early, mostly courtesy of Debbie’s driving, I introduced myself to everyone, and we talked about issues and concerns.

Several of the men were distant never involving themselves with the conversation. I didn’t want to embarrass them, but I wanted all the feelings and hostilities out in the open. I approached them asking if I could help them understand what is obviously bothering them.

One guy turned red, the other sighed heavily and then just blurted it out. “Why would a male let himself be turned into a female, a second class citizen?” I saw several of the female attendees frown and clench their fists.

I asked them to sit down, and I would try to explain this to them. I asked them if they were married, both nodded. Do you appreciate what your wife does to raise your family and help in the expenses of the household? Again they nodded ‘yes’.

The one guy blurted out you were already in the right sex why did you change to the weaker inferior sex? I told them that I would not convey that statement to their wives. There was some chuckling around the room, but I noticed that everybody was listening to what I said.

Males tend to think that they are indeed the superior sex, but could you carry a child and spend hours in labor delivering that child? Could you spend the time to nurse that child, do the housework, shop for groceries and still be lovable to you the hard working husband when he gets home from work?

Then before the baby is old enough to go to school, leave it to the care of someone else so that you can go back to work to help keep food on the table and a roof over your heads. How many times has your wife assured you that things will get better, that your crappy boss will get easier to live with, even though she might be having her period, her breasts sore from the stored up milk she has to express for her baby in child care.

Then we have what her job is like, do you ever ask her how her day went? She gets up earlier than you so she can get the baby ready to drop off, get dressed herself, maybe make you lunch, decide what groceries she has to shop for tonight, and the dread going through another boring day at work typing correspondence or making notations in customer’s files.

No, you guys have it all wrong, your wife is the stronger sex. She is the one that supports you all she can while not having the same from you in return. Now, why would I leave the male sex to be a member of that group? I am a female at heart, and proud of it.

I want to care for people and help them attain the best for them. I want to love someone and have it returned to me. I want to have and influence a child to greatness, to be better than I was in my life. What is right for me is not right for others, I think you should love and adore your wife and spouse and treat them as equals even though they are better than you. Imagine what you two can accomplish with her supporting you and you embracing her and her life. Nothing is unreachable when love blossoms between two like-minded adults.

Now do you have any problem with being me transgendered and wanting to live my life as a female? They both approached me, hugged me and whispered to me thanks; we needed that, and we will mention your name to our wife’s tonight when we try to make it up to them. I gave them each a cheek kiss, both of them blushing but not pulling away.

We were late for our next group because almost every member of that civic group wanted to talk and share ideas with us. We promised to come back, help them formulate a few of their ideas into bills that I might be able to get introduced when elected.

The next group were representatives of a gay alliance. Mr. Kincade’s remarks so far had been the most brutal with this group. Gays and lesbians were represented here today, both a little hostile towards me. We talked a little about some of the statements made so far and what we might expect if he got elected. I pointed out some laws that a neighboring state had tried to pass, backed by some of the same factions that were backing Mr. Kincade.

The laws were aimed at any gay club or establishment, making licensing and permits requirements so restrictive that they could not open their doors. The worst bill was a bill requiring a list be maintained of any male or female attending a gay bar or nightclub. Other than the fact that it couldn’t be tracked was the fact that any name could be added to the list just by writing it down. No conviction or charge necessary to find your name on that list.

One lesbian that I had noticed was paying very close attention to my actions and words, asked what my stand would be with regards to gay rights. I smiled, a perfect opening for my response. I looked at Debbie; she swallowed hard, not knowing what my exact opinion was on the matter. I asked the woman her name; she responded Cheryl. “Well, Cheryl here is how I look at any group that is different from the quote, normal majority.

You are a person first and with that qualification, you can be whoever you want to be as long as you do not hurt anyone physically. Gender and lifestyle choices are yours, and yours alone.”

“There is a fine line if you push someone to make a choice that is not what they want, but regards to yourself no one can make that choice but you. If your lifestyle choices are presented in public making other people uncomfortable, you should be warned and advised to make those actions more private. Not arrested, not put on some list, just advised. I am sure that when people concentrate on their own lives and make those worth living that all people will be able to live in harmony.”

“Now that leaves it open for you to be a religious fanatic, a conservative, anti-feminist, same-sex marriage supporter, and pro-abortion under my criteria. That information is none of anybody’s business but yours. Any more questions?”

The place was silent as those words sunk in. Cheryl came over, and I got massively hugged, she asked if I was a lesbian? I smiled, then shrugged my shoulders. She grinned, I know, not my business. I thanked her for her questions and gave her a lip curling kiss as I held both sides of her face. I then turned to Debbie and told her, “Let’s go, love, I am suddenly wet with excitement.”

We could hear the giggling from inside as we made our way to Debbie’s car. As soon as I got in Debbie was leaning over giving me a kiss that almost brought me over the edge. As we settled down and made for home, Debbie told me that Andrew is now officially dead, Andrea is in control and never will relinquish control again. I didn’t doubt that statement in the least.

I thought back to how this has all fell into place. I never dreamed of entering the race as a female, but now I didn’t see any other way but as a female, the female that is me. I have accepted my clothes, makeup, and hair as just a part of the female me. I dress to look nice; I check my makeup and hair often during the day just as a female would. Never doubting that I am a female, even though two days ago I was a male at least everywhere other than in my mind. I think Andrea has always been there, just had not made any physical appearance yet.

It turns out our opponents kept up with lots of new accusations about me. At any one time, I was gay, lesbian, a child molester, an atheist, a religious fanatic, you name it, and I was a member of that group out to force my agenda on the voters of this district. Again on the news, I was featured and people’s opinions of me were quite favorable. They even got interviews from the LGBT group. So far our plan was working, we had spent very little money just some donations to groups.

Debbie had us lined up for visiting two regional malls tomorrow, walking through the mall, handing out cards and introducing myself to as many people as possible. First, though she had me scheduled for a touch up at Turnabout Gurl Salon at eight o’clock in the morning. Then on to the first mall.

I made it home safely, although the last couple of days I have felt a little insecure as Andrea walking the short distance from my car to the apartment. Tonight there were a couple of strange cars in the apartment's parking lot, both occupied by men. As Andrew, I wouldn’t have had much concern about them, but with a tight skirt and four-inch heels, I am not overjoyed. When I made it inside my apartment, I leaned back against the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

I made a note to myself to change the nightly routine if I sensed being followed or had unwelcome visitors at the apartment complex. I had a quiet night but did peek out the window to see that at least one of the cars was still there the next morning. I decided it might not hurt to call the police department and mention that there might be some suspicious people in the parking lot. I was not the only single female living in the neighborhood.

I called, and they sent a patrol car fairly quickly. I saw the officers quiz the two men parked just down the street, eventually letting them go. The lady officer came to my door, telling me that the two men were private detectives hired by Mr. Kincade to keep an eye on me. They had cameras with telephoto lens, and a sound boom to listen to any conversations I might have.

They advised the men that their plate is being noted, and any trouble in the area would be presumed to be their fault. She told me to be careful what I say in the house the device they had is capable of hearing voices up to a half mile away. I thanked her for notifying me, got a hug and a promise to vote for me in return.

When Debbie called that morning, I mentioned that I had something come up unexpectedly and needed to leave right away, if the opposition finds out we are doomed. I quickly hung up and then left the apartment. In the car I called her on my cell phone and told what had happened, we agreed to meet at the salon, and I hung up. If their device picked up the conversation, I knew I could lead them to the salon, then maybe confront them when I had witnesses.

Sure enough, when I pulled into the salon’s parking lot, they were not far behind. I waited for Debbie then walked across the street to talk to them. They were cool about it, they didn’t try to drive off, their cover was broken. I asked them how they were doing and if they had anything interesting yet for their client.

One guy had blushed, embarrassed at being found out. The other guy not really bothered. I asked them if their client is paying them enough to make a living. His response not really. I suggested that if they spent the same amount of time on Mr. Kincade as they were doing following me that what they discovered would be worth more than he is paying them to keep his secrets out of the press.

The one cool guy broke out laughing, yeah I bet he would be interesting. He asked me if they found something would I be interested. Nope, I don’t play that way, anything you find and can make a buck on be my guest.

If they wanted pictures of me nearly naked getting waxed in the salon, they were welcome, but they would have to have the same treatments. I told the cool guy that he would look darling in a pixie cut, with blonde highlights, I would even pay for his cut and style. He told me that he would pass this time, but maybe next time. I handed him one of my cards and told him anytime. He rolled up his window and drove off.

Debbie and I walked back to the salon giggling all the way. She did agree with me he would look precious with a pixie cut. As we entered the salon, Francine greeted us. She had watched from her office window and wanted to know what Billie and Pat were doing in the neighborhood. The laughter that broke out was infectious, all three of us almost rolling in the aisles.

In the ensuing conversation, I found out Billie was the one driving, and Pat was his sidekick. After I had calmed down, I told Francine if Billie wanted a pixie cut and highlights I would pay her bill. That provoked more giggling.

The fascinating thing about all of this is both Billie and Pat are sometimes customers of the salon. Francine mentioned that she would suggest to whoever the technician was next time they come in to suggest a pixie cut and a total body wax. I thought to myself if they would take my advice and check up on Mr. Kincade, they might hit the jackpot if they did.

In my opinion, they did more than a touch-up at the salon. My hair washed, and then conditioned, then set in curlers. Under the dryer for my hair, with a tech to apply a new color to my nails. Of course, the toes to match. Makeup next, a daytime look that stressed the eyes and lips. All done in shades of burgundy and pink.

Then she brushed out my hair, today I received a retro fifties style, what they used to call big hair. Informed that the style is returning to popularity, thence if a future state senator was to wear it, it might encourage a few more to follow the trend.

We made it to the mall, and just walked up and down talking to the shoppers. We asked about their concerns, what they felt needed to be corrected, and about their family. Quite a few conversations, ended up lasting for more than a few minutes. I noticed that I got a lot of compliments about my appearance from the females, the males that talked to us interested more in my breasts since that is all they looked at during the conversation.

We ate in one of the mall restaurants, several people coming over to talk to us. Apparently, the local paper had published a picture of me taken at the women’s club meeting along with an article on what is happening in the campaign. Surprisingly, it was not a very favorable article as far as Mr. Kincade is concerned. In the past, the paper has supported him unequivocally.

After lunch, we walked the mall again shaking as many hands as possible. Somebody would ask a question, and as I tried to answer it, more people would join the group. At one point Debbie had counted forty people listening to my stand on things. Most people were happy with my stand as I tried to use common sense, and stood against trying to legislate people to act a certain way. More than once I stressed that everybody deserves to do what they wish with their lives. No group has the right to legislate how we act and behave.

I got asked about criminals; I have always believed that any criminal act should be punished, and if the penalties are severe enough, a lot of crime would never occur. Legislation will not straighten this out; we need to re-educate the judges, district attorneys, and the whole criminal justice system.

The first step is to stop allowing plea deals to gain a conviction. If they break the law and are found guilty, they need to serve time. No excuses or special conditions. If they plead insanity and are proven so by psychologists, they need to be kept in a mental institution until there is no doubt as to their cure. Not released early because they don’t have space for new inmates.

That day we handed over one thousand cards, even got a couple of phone calls from cards we handed out the day before. I took the time to talk to everyone, even a student doing his paper on the political system. We dragged our bodies’ home a little after six P.M. and by seven, I was fast asleep. Like a lot of women, the first thing I removed when I hit my apartment door is my heels, having them off felt SO good. I slept in my panties and bra, too tired to remove them before I fell asleep.

It is rainy and stormy the next day when I managed to crawl out from under the covers. I made myself presentable, then went over to Debbie’s. Mom had called her telling her that the paper is filled with ads for Mr. Kincade, paid for by his supporting groups. All of them condemning me for dressing as a female, my support of LGBT, and any other negative they could come up with regarding me. She then told us of an unofficial poll done by the University showing me way out in front of the race.

We continued our meet and greet today, a couple of male-only clubs in town, of businessmen, and two ladies groups, one gardening club, and one professional women club. All went off with only minor irritations, the male clubs requiring a more detailed explanation of my position on matters and my desire to dress and live as a female. After all was explained, they seemed to accept and acknowledge. Several told me they would be with me on the litter walk later this week.

The days progressed, and we continued our meet and greet campaign. The rumors about me became more absurd; my favorite is that I was dressing as a female to avoid an ex-wife, who is trying to serve papers on me for a divorce. I replied to anyone that asked, to do that I would have to been married.

We had agreed to one debate during the campaign with a female judge being the moderator. All of the questions had to come from constituents either by email or phone during the debate. It was scheduled in the evening to accommodate the largest amount of viewers possible. I wore a light pink business suit, my hair done up in curls and my makeup utterly feminine. The idea was to provoke Mr. Kincade to strike out in frustration, either to my appearance, or my answers to some of the questions.

We shook hands as we met on stage, then took our places behind two podiums. The questions surprised me, all of them dealing with his stand on the issues that his factions wanted to be pursued in his next term if elected. On most of his questions, I let him go first, his ego is not allowing him to yield that favor. His first words out of his mouth usually disgraced him. I noticed during the debate he switched more to an avoidance of questions, and a more fire and brimstone sermon type of answer. He actually was afraid of losing any more ground, resorting to his father and grandfather’s type of campaign.

I let him ramble on, most of his comments only moving him farther away from the voters. As he was answering the last question, I took a moment to repair my lipstick; my lips were dry and parched due to the lights. The camera was on him, so no one is aware of what I was doing except him. Well, that apparently was the final straw, he pointed to my direction, telling everybody to look, he is fixing his blasted lipstick where there are more important matters to discuss. The judge stopped further comment because his time was up.

I stepped up to the podium; let's look at the views expressed tonight shall we? I told them all of the things I favor and my stand on all of the things brought up tonight. I am out in the community every day, talking to my constituents and will continue to do so. The litter walk that I started had covered every major road in the district, with last weekend’s volunteers numbering over three thousand.

I won’t promise things I can’t deliver without a lot of other senators help. I will promise to vote against any bill introduced that does not favor my constituents, period. I am a female and have met most of you this way. I want to settle down here, marry and probably adopt some children. There are enough that need some decent homes out there.

Now as to fixing my lipstick off camera, I plead guilty, a woman’s prerogative. Now let me ask if Mr. Kincade’s rearrangement of his genitals during an off-camera moment makes him above me in his actions. I don’t think so. I ask you to vote for the person that cares about the community and will do everything to preserve what we have. You have to decide that, the voters of this district.

Thank you for your time and patience and good night. He stumbled through his finishing words; none of it made any sense, and he lost his train of thought twice.

His last words were you can’t put a person like this into public office. He/she has an affair with his/her campaign manager and we have heard they plan to marry. Surely the voters will not let this abomination serve in public office. The judge said time had run out for the debate. She urged everybody to get out and vote and thanked them for listening.

I smiled from ear to ear, just the type of language we wanted him to resort to this evening. I could see his campaign manager telling him that he overstepped his own boundaries; it will come back and kick him in the ass. They argued, and the manager told him he quit, and stormed out of the TV studio.

Debbie came over and hugged me, she apparently not as confident as me as to how this will play out. I took her hands and got down on one knee, not easy wearing a tight skirt. I asked her to marry me in the upcoming weeks and slipped a ring on her finger. Her attitude took a sudden change of direction, and she hugged me almost squeezing me to death. I saw the reporters over to the side from the local papers recording all of this, probably tomorrow’s morning headline.

Since I had now made it official, ring and all, we made a few plans. There is still three weeks to the election, and I wanted the marriage completed before the election. I am still legally male, so obtaining a marriage license should be no problem. Debbie wanted to wait, afraid that the ceremony would be detrimental to the campaign. I wanted honesty with the voters, too many lies over the years already. If being married to a loving female is going to keep me from being elected than the voters deserve the crap that they will get with Mr. Kincade.

I wanted a two bride ceremony and asked our mothers to pick out our wedding dresses. I knew mine would pick out the girliest gown east of the Rockies, so that isn’t a problem for me. Debbie would have to see to her own mother, but I had a feeling she would end up just as girly.

The ceremony set for the Sunday before the election, and I invited all our constituents to the ceremony. I had paid to have the reception catered with lots of food, in case we had a higher than normal turnout. It is at the high school gym, and we had arranged to be married at one of the churches in town. I had checked with the minister to make sure he would have no problem doing the ceremony, as long as we have a license he would marry us.

We worked real hard the last weeks making as many stops as possible. We made it back to the Hispanic church to help with the interior painting of the day care facility. They told us of the many gifts for the center donated by citizens wanting the kids to have the best.

Treated to a variety of Mexican food to eat, some of it so good I wanted seconds. I am ready to join the church for more of this type of food. My Mom told me I would have to work off the extra weight that I would probably gain since the dress is unforgiving. We had a great time, the church treating us as friends, not some inflexible political candidates.

On one of our excursions, we got one foul-mouthed young man who called us lots of names, but the crowd around him pretty much handled the situation for us. I had been out enough with the people that I was often recognized and greeted as we made our rounds of the clubs, the malls, and the civic organizations. We never ran into Mr. Kincade at any of these venues, in fact since he lost his campaign manager, we haven’t seen much of him at all.

The ads still run in the papers almost daily, spouting off about my perversion, and my not normal activities. I have a regular appointment at the beauty salon every week, to keep my looks feminine and pretty. We get phone calls daily on my cell phone letting me know something that has happened, ideas about bills they would like passed, and a lot of calls asking where we will be; they just wanted to drop by and say hi.

Both Debbie and I got our final dress fittings; Mom has found and purchased a dress that would make a tree look beautiful and feminine. The skirt is gorgeous and must have close to a hundred yards of material in it. I am sure that I will fill the aisle as I walk down to the front of the church. Of course, I haven’t seen Debbie’s but Mom says it is equally gorgeous.

We planned to work the day before we get married, getting out the vote, then salon appointments the morning of the wedding, and then the wedding in the afternoon. I planned a romantic evening with my fiance, maybe a little cuddling of a personal nature.

With the wedding on Sunday, it still left Monday before the election open; I had something in mind, but managed to keep it from everybody including Debbie. On Tuesday, we would vote, then head out on our honeymoon for two weeks in the mountains of the southwest, at a friend’s cabin far away from anything resembling any type of communication.

If we won the election, I would be extremely happy, but I felt the time away is needed to convince my new wife of the advantages of marrying me. The last few days were hectic, getting packed for the honeymoon, last minute preparations for the ceremony, and the windup of the campaign taking a toll on all of us.

I had arranged a full page ad in the local newspaper for the day before the election. The wordage is simple; a thank you buffet in the middle of downtown for the voters of this district. Everybody is invited, whether they plan to vote for me or Mr. Kincade.

I had arranged with a lot of groups to have games for the kids, activities for the adults, with all the proceeds from the event to go to the Children’s Hospital. As the people entered, they would be handed tokens so when they played a game or participated in an activity, they would give the vendor a token. For every token used, I would contribute a dollar to the hospital.

For food, I had contacted all of the prominent restaurants in town and requested they make a sampling of their most requested foods for the buffet. I told them all to plan to serve a thousand people with their selections. To compensate them for their loss of business that day I had planned to pay them their regular daily receipts for a Monday plus five hundred dollars incentive.

Surprisingly, all but two restaurants refused the incentive, telling me to give it to some local charity in their name. The two that didn’t refuse the incentive just told me they would prepare more food for the party. They thought that my estimation of the turnout is way too low, both thought I would be greatly surprised.

I wanted it to be a fun time for families and their children, a place to celebrate their freedom and to be thankful for all they have in life. Too many people never take the time to appreciate what they have, always just interested in what they don’t have or want. I had sneaked around quite a bit to keep this from all my relatives and campaign workers including Debbie. The fact that our wedding is in this time period was keeping them focused on that.

My Mom was the first one to discover my plan when I met her after a hard day of campaigning, she gave me a real big hug, bigger than normal. She thanked me for being who I am and think the voters of this district will feel the same.

She asked me how much the surprise is costing me. I tell her I have no idea what she is talking about. She just smiles then hands me a blank check, telling me to fill it out for half of the expenditure. I start to protest, but she insists that her pretty daughter listens to her mother and do as she says. I get a kiss on the cheek, and she leaves.

Well so much for keeping it a secret from everyone. Later that night, Debbie also asks what she should wear for the street party, something comfy or maybe a little fancier.

I need to check for listening devices or some type of spies since my secret seems to be widespread knowledge. Then Francine called, you can’t leave us out of this her only words; I guess the leak is pretty big. She wants to know how the salon can help, all of the girls want to help you out any way they can. I suggested that maybe some face painting or makeovers for all the young girls and any boys that might also want the treat. She agreed, and they would be there with bells on.

Incidentally, the leak you are seeking is the newspaper; they are so proud of what you are doing that they told quite a few of us. I corrected your mistake at the paper after they told me what you are planning.

I asked her what mistake is that. She then mentioned, “The single page ad had grown a little so that now it is a whole seven-page section. Each merchant has tied into the ad all offering services or treats for free, that changed the cost of the supplement, so I picked up the tab for it all.

Now you need to come in tomorrow early so that we can make sure you are perfect for your day’s activities. I love you, don’t you forget that!” then she hung up. The nerve of her, then I grinned, seems like my idea is mushrooming quite a bit. Some people do care about others, more so than I thought.

Saturday we spent every moment with the people of my district, well almost every minute; a girl has to look her best you know, and Francine had offered her salon’s services. I am curled, manicured, made up, and treated to a new business suit to wear. The suit is provocative showing off my assets to the max. I wasn’t under dressed, just so feminine that no one looking at me could think I am anything other than a hundred percent female. Debbie is not left out either, an identical outfit for her only in a different color. My suit is pink, you knew that was coming, and hers a baby blue.

We drove slowly through town, stopping and talking to anybody we could see. We were greeted amicably by everybody, even one staunch Kincade supporter shook our hands. He apologized for his candidate, the actions of his candidate was inexcusable. He admitted he was wavering, too many wrongs for him to still support the man. I gave him a hug, telling him to vote his conscious, the best way to handle indecision.

The mall was not excluded, both of us walking the mall twice, from one end to the other. We had deliberately refrained from asking people to vote for me. We just wanted them to vote, period. We did hand out quite a few cards, but usually with the intent for them to call us if they had any concerns or questions.

At seven-thirty we made it back to my house, we had quit worrying about being followed, pictures taken and all that crap. We had already been accused of almost everything, a few more rumors or accusations, not a problem.

We had stopped and got some take-out. Our friends at the church had told us of a small restaurant that served the best food in the area, so that is what we grabbed a sampling from as we headed home. We nibbled in the car but, only a small portion of what we got actually made it home.

We set on my sofa, finished our pig out fest and talked about the campaign. Debbie is still concerned about our wedding that it will not help my efforts. I, on the other hand, feel that it will, a candidate that is truthful about his/her life, both public and private is long overdue in politics. My toe-curling kisses, helping to sway her opinion. We elected to stay together tonight, but in separate beds. I told her to get plenty of rest for she is going to need it in the days to come. I sported a smile as those words escaped my mouth.

We did decide on what to wear to the party, though. We both thought that casual would be best, a couple of fancier sweats more appropriate. I didn’t want to make anybody feel uncomfortable; it is a party to celebrate our freedom, the things we take for granted, not the things we don’t have.

I received a wonderful kiss in the morning, from a gleaming wide-eyed Debbie, then she ran to the bathroom before I could retaliate. By the time she finished her shower, I had to get mine so we would be on time for our appointments.

We threw on some clothes and drove over to the salon. As we entered we were separated; I did manage a farewell kiss before I was dragged off to be prepared. I swear every service that they offered in their salon was performed on my body. I was embarrassed and shocked as the cups for the breasts enlargement were reinserted on me. Before I could get a word out, I am informed that for the dress to fit properly, I needed a little more on top.

Why the dress wasn’t made a little smaller escaped all logical reasoning. I decided then and there to just go with the flow, so far I have enjoyed everything and have not regretted anything done to me.

We were scheduled here for the rest of the day, only to be dressed and driven separately to the church at four P.M. The wedding ceremony is at five, we had rooms at the church to make any final preparations necessary for our walk down the aisle. Our mothers had made all the other arrangements and arranged for flowers for the ceremony.

This time, the breast machine had put me to sleep, the sudden silence in the room waking me up. I immediately looked down, and the cups were jam packed with my flesh. A different technician came in with two syringes, looked at me for a minute to see if I was going to ask anything and when I didn’t gave me a shot in each breast. The cups did seem much larger than the first ones, but the term ‘well-endowed’ suddenly seemed appropriate now.

As before they left the cups on, but I was moved to a chair where my hair is shampooed and conditioned then towel dried. The chair is set upright, and a flock of technicians descends on me. One on each hand doing my nails, one doing my toes, two working on setting my hair in curlers, and Francine supervising their efforts. I did notice that my extensions on my nails were removed and longer ones added to my fingers. I would now be in the helpless female mode for quite some time as I learned to handle the new extreme length.

The new extensions came past my fingertips by at least an inch. Then after a base coat, three coats of the deepest burgundy polish is applied. Under the UV light between each coat, incidentally. The extensions had been applied the same way, a glue then the UV light to set the glue. I figured the nails would be with me for quite some time. The final application of a glossy top coat really made them shine and sparkle.

Meanwhile, my hair had more curlers in it than I had seen in any female before me. Not that I am an expert in wet sets, but I figured that mine exceeded the norm by a long ways. They used a spray bottle to saturate each curl; then moved me under a hair dryer. The air was not hot, just warm and soon I am back asleep. Francine shook my shoulder to get my attention, then dragged me back to a styling station. I noticed the covering on the mirror right away. I guess I don’t get to see how I look until they are finished.

Patricia starts removing my curlers and I feel nothing. I guess the curl is tight since I feel nothing bouncing around like I usually do. It seemed like hours as she worked on my hair. She kept a steady stream of conversation asking about Debbie, how we met, what we are planning in life.

I responded the best I could, but my curiosity is getting the best of me. My larger breasts, the two shots I received, my longer nails, and now a mysterious hairstyle. I try several times to steer the conversation to obtaining some information, but she evades my quest with ease.

My curiosity took a turn towards frustration, I feel beautiful, all the pampering and primping making me feel like a princess but why all the additional beauty treatments. When she finishes, I am moved to another room and undressed down to my birthday suit. Then a corset appears and soon is hooked around my body. Two of them attack the tightening of said item until I feel like I am about to split in two. The laces are tied off; then the cups are removed from my breasts. Cream is massaged into them until I am a withering gob of goo standing in the room. “That feels so good; I wish they would do that forever.”

One of the girls approaches with a half cup-shaped object and glue is smeared over the item. The underside of my breast is coated in the same glue then held up by the nipple until the glue gets tacky. Even though they were trying to be gentle, the holding of my nipple is melting what is left of my brain into a liquid. As the half cup is applied to the underside of my breast, my nipple is standing out a mile in anticipation of future events.

The support does not come close to covering the nipple, its proud protrusion announcing to the world of its willingness to engage in some more interesting activities.

Next, is a poor excuse for a panty, that can’t be more than two or three inches square with an elastic strap working its way between my butt cheeks to a waistband made of stretch lace. It certainly will give Debbie ideas if she doesn’t already have some. Then a huge pile of petticoats is brought in and set before me. I am led to the middle of them, stepping over the piled up lace and netting. The petticoats are straightened out; then a device is attached to my thighs right above my knees.

It fastened around my thigh tightly with a short cord between the thighs. I now would not be able to take other than the smallest of steps. I was asked to raise each foot bending my leg at the knee. A pair of heels are added to my feet and buckled securely to my ankle. The heels had to have been at least five inches in height, a fact that I was sure that I would become aware of very shortly. The last few weeks I have been wearing taller heels, so the height is not the problem. The restriction between my legs would limit my gait quite severally, the combination of the two making me the perfect submissive bride.

Finally, Francine comes in and announces that I will just have to wait until the ceremony to find out the reasons for the changes. She knows I will like the reasons, a present from our Moms and her. Two hours after Patricia starts on my hair, she announces she is finished. I do feel a little hair tickling my ears, but all the rest is presumably on top of my head. Perfume is added to all the normal places and a few that I hadn’t thought of before. My vagina, I am sure will be welcoming Debbie with its perfumed aroma wafting up from my nether regions.

Lastly my dress. I watch as they attach cords to it and pull it high above my head. Then I am moved directly underneath, and the dress is slowly lowered with four ladies each pulling out the hem of the dress as it is lowered so that it will not mess with my hair and makeup. After it is all around me, the cords are removed, and the dress is pulled up to my shoulders. The waist is secured there with a built in belt and tightened.

Now the only piece remaining is the bodice of the dress. The fit of the arm into the sleeve is tight, several attempts made before they got my hands out of the end of the sleeves. The tight sleeves hampering any movements of my arms and hands. When I tried to raise my arms I found that I couldn’t get them any higher than my waist.

I look for an explanation, but none is forthcoming. Mom approaches and adjusts the fabric over my nipples allowing them to show a little. With the design of the dress, you have to look closely to see the nipple, but it is there totally visible to the world. “A little incentive to keep your mind where it belongs, on your soon, to be wife and the need to make grandchildren for your mothers.”

I was led from the salon to a waiting limo and soon headed to the wedding venue. I had to be helped in everything I did, even getting into the limo impossible with the strap on my thighs, the huge voluminous skirt and petticoats, and the restricted movement of my arms.

When the limo pulled up to the church, I am helped out of the limo and taken inside. Placed in one of the rooms at the back of the church. I am left alone to wait until the time comes for the service. I hear some commotion in the adjoining room, and I presume Debbie has made it to the church. I wonder what changes were made to Debbie’s body and attire.

Mom came in to check on me, making sure all was still ready for the ceremony. She took a few minutes to explain their behavior. “Both Debbie and you have been friends for years, good friends yet neither of you made the first move. We know you love each other; that is clearly visible for any to see. If it wasn’t for me telling you that Debbie always loved you, you would still most likely just be friends. Take two aging mothers and give them time to make plans and no telling what they might come up with to deal with their wayward children.”

She continued, “Now since you are the most feminine bride, you will lead out the procession.” I was helped to the door, then waited for the music to start. Mom moved a couple of pieces of fabric to hide the nipples a little better, but from my vantage point, they are still clearly visible and extended a least a half inch or more past my breasts. The wedding march started, and I am pushed into the aisle, with the hobbles, I can only take very short steps, it seemed like I would never get to the front of the church. I hear gasps from the crowd, as I am making my way to the alter, I notice the church is packed, even people standing along the side aisles. Then more gasps from behind me, Debbie no doubt following me down the aisle.

I made it to the altar, turning to see Debbie approaching. Both of our eyes glued to the other as the distance between us is closing, she is so beautiful, and I am so lucky to be her bride. The service is fairly short, the usual asking if any person has any objections, but no responses are heard. The preacher asks us the usual questions, our I do’s sufficient for the ceremony.

Our Moms place rings in our hands, and we get close to each other so that we can slide the ring on our spouse's finger. We both had bought matching wedding sets, and I wore an engagement ring just like Debbie. We manage to slide our rings on our spouse’s fingers, and then we are pronounced wife and wife. You can now kiss the bride is proclaimed, and Debbie and I press together in an erotic embrace, the kiss is so sensual that I feel it all the way to my new vaginal lips.

We make our way back down the aisle, then back to our separate rooms. Each of our mothers is with us, as they adjust the dresses, so our nipples are not showing. My Mother reaches behind me and attaches something to the back of my dress. I reach around to see what she has done then I heard two clicks, and my hands are fastened behind me. She slips a broom handle under the front hem of the dress, holding the skirt up, then, she slips down in front of me and slides something into my new vagina. I almost buckle at the sensation, my knees barely holding me upright.

I try to ask what she is doing, but I am shushed. She grabs a strap hanging down between my legs, pulling it taught, then attaches it to my waist belt with a click. I protest but am shushed again. Finally, the hem of my dress is lowered, and my hands are released. I looked directly into her eyes and asked, “What have you done to me?” She smiles, “Just two concerned mothers making sure that the bedroom activities later will result in grandchildren.” I want to argue with her, but the door is opened, and I am led to a limo.

Since our dresses are so big, we have to travel in separate limos to the reception. I thought we might have changed into something more comfortable for the reception, but the powers to be, our mothers, apparently thought otherwise. We arrived at the reception, the crowd a lot bigger than I expected.

Debbie is right behind me, we kiss and whisper to each other. Apparently, she is in the same situation as me, our holes filled with something that is very distracting. Every time I move, the hobble making the rubbing of my lips with the dildo inside just that much worse.

If the intention is to get us sexually frustrated, our Moms have succeeded in that endeavor. We walk around meeting all the people, then taking a few minutes to dance with each other. We both throw our garters to the crowd, not paying any attention to who actually caught them. Thankfully our garters had been removed in the room before we entered the reception.

We received many well wishes, and quite a few gifts, even though we had requested that any gifts be donated to the local charities. All the people that had told us they gave us a gift had also given to the charity. We danced the last dance with each other and then we were taken to a room to change clothes. Out of the huge dresses and into a ladies two piece suits. Our Moms presented us with a small suitcase of goodies for the evening before we left.

Out to the car and then to a hotel where we had booked a room for the evening. Mom had already checked us in, so we picked up the key and headed to our room. We were both so sexually frustrated we didn’t bother with carrying the bride into the room. We went to the bed with Debbie going through the suitcase looking for the key to our chastity devices. I am busy getting out of the ladies suit. Debbie groaned in frustration then started removing her clothes while I resumed the search for the damn key. We just about were ready to call our Moms, when Debbie found the letter taped to the inside of the suitcase lid. We set down on the edge of the bed reading the letter together.

Our Moms had really fixed us up for the evening. I dialed my mom’s number to see if they had switched off their cell phones. They did, the provider message coming on that that number is not in service at the moment.

The letter stated that there is no key to our chastity belts. In the suitcase is an insert for Debbie’s dildo. It fits inside her dildo and has a protrusion that will fit inside of mine. We need to make every effort to get me to climax, then when Debbie’s dildo is inserted into mine a vacuum will activate, and my sperm will be collected and inserted into Debbie’s vagina. If I try hard enough, I can give Debbie pleasure by manipulating her dildo.

The important thing here is that my sperm will end up in Debbie, and her orgasms will be better when she is on her back, letting all those sperm find her eggs. Debbie and I looked at each other, our own Mothers doing this to us! I will have to give them credit for their resourcefulness. No erotic author could come up with such a twisted way to get pregnant.

We broke out in giggles, Debbie pushing me back on the bed and reaching for the dildo to insert in her body. I spread my legs, for Mom and country, and we were off on a fantasy evening. It turned out to be fun, the positions we tried to get the maximum effect. The key to my release is Debbie playing with my nipples; I am moaning and squirming under her as she worked her magic on me.

I got equal time as I rolled her over and did the same to her breasts. I knew she is turned on big time as the flow of liquid from her nether regions quite substantial. I lowered myself to her dildo and started manipulating it with my mouth. I found where I could twist it sideways a little and Debbie would almost come off the bed.

I stayed with it, her moaning that is enough, too sore to continue, purposefully ignored. I wanted my poor old Mother to have grandchildren, so I continued into the wee hours of the morning. By that time Debbie had been on her back for five hours that ought to do the trick. When I finally stopped, she looked me directly in the eye and told me she would get even if it is the last thing she does on earth! I grinned and asked if she had picked out any baby names yet?

I may get pregnant and have the baby, but you will breastfeed it and raise it, including changing the diapers, Mommy dearest! She can’t be serious, me breastfeed a baby, is that even possible. She assured me that it is and she would schedule the necessary treatments tomorrow so that her baby can be properly taken care of.

Too pooped to do anything more, we collapsed on the bed, both of us drifting off into dreamland. That damn sun boring into my eyes the next morning made any further sleep impossible. We cleaned up and dressed in the sweats we had picked out for the day. Today is the day of the party, I checked the paper to see that the ads had run, finding the whole paper loaded with support ads, lists of activities available at the party and well wishes from almost every civic and religious faction in town.

We made our way downtown, having to park quite a ways from the area of the party. As we entered the city square, I was floored; wall to wall adults and children, from their appearance having the time of their life. We walked along greeting everyone, thanking the vendors for their participation. Over the next few hours it became even more crowded. The police showing up to oversee the crowd. The lady police chief, finding us, telling me that the crowd is estimated at just over twenty thousand people. The last people to arrive had come from the mall, the local bus service bringing them here as a service, since there is no parking available anywhere near downtown.

It was almost eight that night before the crowd thinned out a little, they were dancing, playing games and eating anything that is left at the food vendors. Several of the food vendors had sent people back to their restaurant to prepare more food, their first offerings gone within minutes of setting up. I needed to make sure they were adequately compensated for their efforts. I never did find our mothers, even Francine stayed lost in the crowds. I did see their handiwork as many small children had their face painted, even some boys with mascara and lipstick, they were so cute.

As the clock neared midnight, we headed back to the hotel, totally pooped. We both still had our Mother’s gifts embedded in our bodies, I had quite a few erotic moments during the day trying to deal with my penance. I am sure our Mother’s would have preferred for us to engage in bedroom antics again that night but we were so out of it, we fell asleep on top of the sheets with all of our clothes still on. The shoes is the only thing we lost on the way to the bed.

The next morning, our makeup refreshed, it is time to vote, than our honeymoon such as it is. After the night before, the honeymoon will definitely be second best in the entertainment department. The precinct where we voted is crowded, lines out the doors for at least fifty feet. That is good, a large turnout likely to be favorable to our campaign. We waited in line, a lot of the voters recognized us and the conversations were stimulating. Of the people near us in line, there did not seem to be any Kincade supporters, an unusual occurrence.

After thirty minutes we made it to the voting machines, signed in and then voted. Afterward, we shook some hands then left. We stopped in at the salon, mainly to thank Francine for all her help. She greeted us at the door and ushered us into one of the private rooms in the back. With a big smile she asked how Sunday was, did we enjoy ourselves. Debbie answered for us. “Yes, we enjoyed it, as horny as we were, I could have screwed a brick wall, our mothers definitely need a talking too!”

She reached into a drawer and handed us a key. Debbie snatched it up so fast before I could even move my arm, she had it in her grasp. I asked her if we could use the key now to undo our chastity devices, but she smiled then pocketed the key.

Francine giggled, I think someone got into trouble last night, you might consider an apology before you head out of town. Debbie spoke first asking Francine where she could get some drugs to stimulate lactation in a male. I looked at her in shock; she is going to make me nurse the baby; she can't do that to me. Francine whispered in her ear, and Debbie entered a phone number in her laptop, presumably the information she is looking for. Francine told us she has a couple of stylists ready to touch up our makeup and hair; then we can leave. She assured us she would send us an email tonight once the election results are in.

The stylists came and got us and for the next thirty minutes, we were pampered and primped. The look is essentially the same, but we felt much better after the fussing. We went to my apartment to get packed, well not packed as our Mother’s had packed for us. It is to make sure that no more hidden surprises were awaiting us once we got to our destination.

We went through our luggage, piece by piece, making sure that all is as planned. We can never trust our Mother’s again after Sunday’s night’s incident. As expected, their cell phones were still switched off, for fear of what they might get verbally from their daughters. Both Debbie and I had forgiven them, just some misplaced concern for their future grandchildren. As I was locking up, Debbie is on the phone and arranged one last stop before we left town.

She drove, as we went back across town to a medical office park. I was led into the complex, and we entered a Doctor’s office. Debbie told the receptionist we had an appointment, then we set in the waiting room to be called. I figured that it was Debbie’s doctor, so I kept quiet while we waited. A few minutes later we were called back, but I was the one that got weighed and taken to an examination room. The nurse handed me a gown and Debbie held it as she told me to get undressed. I looked at her for an explanation but received none.

Dressed in the gown, we didn’t have to wait long as the doctor is prompt. She introduced herself as Cynthia Long and asked what I wanted to see her about. Debbie told her that I needed some medication to induce lactation in my breasts since I would be breastfeeding our children. Cynthia smiled glad that she had a phone call earlier explaining the visit. Francine had called her and explained why Debbie wanted me to breastfeed our children.

Cynthia asked if I wanted the treatment, one look from Debbie was all I needed to make the appropriate response. She explained that it sometimes took a couple of months for the lactation to start, with daily breast pumping, I could be kept in milk for as long as necessary. I am told that breast expansion would be a likely consequence, at least, one cup size possibly two should be expected. No alcohol or drugs without medical supervision to ensure healthy breast milk. I was asked one more time, I just nodded, another task to be added to my list of womanly experiences.

Cynthia reappeared with two syringes and injected one in each breast, right behind the nipple. The shot hurt some, Debbie assuring me that she would kiss it and make it better later. Cynthia giggled and gave us her card if we have any questions or concerns.

In the car, Debbie told me that we could get the breast pump and the nursing bras and inserts when we got to our destination. I must have really pissed her off; she is like a woman possessed in this matter. We had time for some lunch before our flight, so we made a detour to get something to eat. A little Italian eatery was just perfect, the salads and calzones were perfect for our afternoon.

We got to the airport in time, cleared security way too easily, then waited about thirty minutes for our flight to be called. We had first class seats, so we got comfortable and waited for all the passengers to be boarded. I planned on getting some sleep on the flight, the little we got the last two nights not enough to sustain life. I got comfy, and Debbie leaned in and laid her head on my bosom. She twisted around a little, and then put her hand up underneath my blouse.

I then realized I would not get much rest; she intended to play with my breasts for the entire trip. I sighed and closed my eyes, maybe if I concentrated enough, I still might get some sleep.

The flight is way too long, my right breast more than a little sore from her constant manipulation. We gathered our carry-on luggage and made an exit. We had to wait for some time before we got our regular baggage, something went wrong on one of their conveyor belts. Finally, we had everything and went to the car rental place. Since my ID has not been updated to the female gender, Debbie had to be the one on the car rental contract. I suddenly felt a little like a real woman, not an equal, just eye candy for my spouse. On the way to the car, I tried to make a case for my eye candy appeal, Debbie is laughing and giggling as she walked slightly behind me.

The drive to the house is about two hours, I tried to stay busy, redid my lipstick several times, applied more mascara, and re-adjusted my breasts in my bra countless times. I even checked the contents of my purse out; I had added a couple of items, but most of the contents were things Debbie added to it.

It seems I had what I needed to handle any emergency, from my period starting to blowing my nose. Debbie always kept one eye on what I was doing, when she saw me with the tampon, she suggested that I have my period the same time as hers. Even if I was not a menstruating female, I needed to act like one, once a month for four to seven days.

Although my constituents knew of my gender change, most of them still see only a female and expect me to act like one in the future. She did ask if I was considering taking it any further. I responded that I really didn’t know, I like the life, the clothes and how I am treated. I realize that I have been extremely lucky in how I have been treated, but Andrea is the true person here, Andrew just a faint memory. Debbie suggested that some sperm saving might be a good idea, in case I wanted to nurse even more children. I gave her an evil eye, but she just giggled, she told me that the image of me nursing our child makes her wet down there, so the vicious cycle might just continue with more children, and more nursing.

She figures that being a housewife and nursing our children will not interfere with my job as a State Senator. The one or two times that I need to be at the capital all day, I can express some milk, and we can get our mothers to babysit. I told her that is presumptuous; we don't even know how the election turned out yet.

With that thought my cell phone rang, it is Francine and congratulated me on my win. The vote is final, Andrea winning the election with eighty-five percent of the vote. “Now enjoy your vacation and make a lot of babies for your mothers!” Giggling she did ask, “Has your milk come in yet?” Before I can respond, she has hung up. I told Debbie the news, and she squealed, almost hitting a median in the road.

It looks like I will indeed be a female State Senator. Also a housewife and Mother in the near future. Debbie has that look, determined and goal driven. A let out a long sigh; maybe this is what I should have been all along. I am indeed loved, Debbie is my soul mate, and the voters of our district need some say in their lives. Yes, Andrea is here to stay, to be loved and cared for in her new life.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Carey, Proud And Polished Gurl

Being a young male, what I was considering doing was illogical, crazy and if caught disastrous. I was raised by my Mother and two older sisters. Given the name of Corey at birth I was somewhat normal during my childhood.

Both of my sisters were seven years older than me, actually twins and quite imposing as members of the female gender. I was probably an oops baby, but no matter how many times I inquired about the gap between my sisters birth and mine everyone remained steadfastly silent.

I never knew my father, the only information I was able to discern was shortly after my birth he vanished, nobody hearing from him from that day forward. I suspected something more, but countless internet searches or sneaky questions posed to my family yielded me absolutely nothing about him.

I had somehow managed to graduate high school, but the time was fast approaching for me to make up my mind whether I would pursue any type of higher education. I was an okay student, but had to work hard at getting good grades. If I didn’t pursue more education I would have to face the real world and find some type of employment. I had set aside the summer after my graduation to make the decision, come September it would be either more school or joining the work force.

Today my mind was on the next two days and what I was daring to do on those days. Mom and my sisters were going to visit Mom’s younger sister, who had just had a baby a couple of days ago. I was asked to go with them but I declined telling them I wanted to spend my time researching some things about what to do come September. My sisters just shook their heads, but Mom gave me a knowing look that unnerved me a little.

I had a secret that needed to be indulged in, a huge hiccup in my male normality. Now a perfect chance to get my feet wet, while they are away for a couple of days. Mom’s sister lived far enough away that I was sure I would not be disturbed, two days alone, being able to indulge my fondest fantasy. A fantasy shared by many but for a male to have interest in long feminine nails, hopefully painted in red or pink, not normal by today’s standards.

From as far back as I can remember I was fascinated at the long feminine nails my sisters and often my Mother wore. I always was around them when they were changing the polish or touching up a chipped nail. Any chance to see their long nails up close not to be missed.

A couple of years ago they found a nail salon in town and from then on they sported long exotic nails always glistening with bright colored polish and recently some nail art added to several of their talons. I often made excuses to go with then to the nail salon, since there was a sporting goods store a few doors down from the salon.

A flimsy excuse for sure but they seemed to buy into it. When we got to the salon I would leave to visit the sporting good store and then comeback after a few minutes and sit in front of the salon and watch the goings on. I was fascinated at the process, wishing with all my being that I could have long nails too.

When the trip to Mom’s sister came up I started planning how I might get a taste of what was so fascinating without being caught. I found out their was a sister salon to the one that my female family used on the other side of town. The city bus went right by there so I had a way to get my nails done.

I couldn’t use the same salon as my family, I am sure word would get back to my Mom in a heartbeat. But a salon on the other side of town might be safe to use. I called and made an appointment, figuring that if I chickened out I could always cancel the appointment.

When I hung up the phone after making the appointment I had to force myself to start breathing again, the idea of really doing this both exciting and scary, real scary. As I tried to lay my cell phone down on my desk my hand was shaking so bad that I dropped the phone on the floor.

I decided to callback and cancel, as soon as my heart and breathing returned to normal. Mom came into my bedroom at that moment, giving me a debit card to use for food and whatever I might need while they were away. I told her I had money, the card was not necessary but she placed the card in my hand anyway and then told me dinner was ready.

I laid the card on the desk, right next to where I had written the appointment time on a scrap piece of paper. I washed my hands in my bathroom then ventured down to the kitchen. I arrived in time to help set the table, a task I did on occasion.

As I laid out the silverware I looked at my fingernails, imagining a cute longer nail painted pink and maybe a lip print on it as nail art. Oh gawd, I have it bad. After we finished eating I helped with the dishes, Mom coming by to make sure I was not running a fever, as she placed her hand on my forehead. Something she does often when I help when not expected.

By the time I got back upstairs the salon was already closed, so canceling the next day’s appointment was not likely to happen. Mom and her daughters were planning to leave early so that she could be at her sister’s before the rush hour traffic started.

Since my appointment was at nine o’clock that would work out fine for me. I worried what I was going to tell the people at the salon about why I wanted long polished nails, From my conversation with the lady who took my appointment I think she thought I was female, since I was addressed as a miss toward the end of the call. But when I appear in person I don’t think that same conclusion would be reached.

I dressed in some of my clothes that might be considered unisex, the shirt loose fitting with some puffy sleeves. The pants were old ones that had a bell bottom cuff, which might be worn by a female these days. I had to rush to get to the bus stop in time, the buses only running once every hour. I did make it in time, but was suddenly hesitant to actually get on the bus. The door sliding open with a burst of air, it was now decision time. I took the first step, then climbed the steps and found a seat near the back of the bus. As I sat down a huge sigh escaped me, I am actually going to go through with this.

The bus ride took about thirty minutes with me suddenly realizing that I would have to ride the bus back with quite obvious fingernails suitable for a female but not a young male. Oh well, too late to do anything about it now. If I get kidded about the long nails I will just have to live with it. All that planning and worrying for naught, since I missed a key element, that of getting back home with feminine nails. The plan sounded good when I thought about it, but in reality I knew I had most likely screwed up big time.

The stop for the salon was the next stop, so I had very little time to contemplate my soon to be disastrous day. Several people got up behind me for the same stop, so staying on the bus became an impossibility. The bus pulled away leaving the view of the salon across the street squarely in my sight.

I swallowed hard but took the first step towards my fantasy, now clouded with doubt and uncertainty. I did make it to the Turnabout Gurl Salon door, paused for a minute when a lady coming out of the salon held the door open for me, smiling at me as she did so. I walked in, now not so sure about all of this. I was getting ready to turn around and head home when a distinguished lady took my hand and led me to the reception desk.

She asked my name and what time my appointment was for. I didn’t know what name to use, so I just told her the appointment was for nine o’clock. My voice was strained barely getting the words out of my mouth. She checked the book where they logged the appointments then led me back to a room at the rear of the salon. She left me at a table covered in polishes and nail files.

I looked around wondering if I left now would they be upset at me. Before I could stand up a young girl a few years older than me set opposite me looking at my appointment information on a card. I was asked what extensions I wanted, then she told me about a special they had for first time customers. It was their longest set of extensions including polish for half the regular price of a set of nails. With tax it would be fifty two dollars. All I heard was the word longest nails and polish included. I squeaked out that would be fine, she handed me a slip to sign, then started on my nails.

My fingers were placed in bowls of a watery liquid to soak, just like when my sisters had their nails done. I intently watched what she was doing, not wanting to miss anything. When I went with my sisters and Mother I was seated far from where they were having their nails done, seeing everything but from a distance. Now first hand up close it was utterly fascinating. My cuticles were trimmed and pushed back, then my own nails were shaped in preparation for the extension to be added.

When she laid the first extension on my fingernail I almost passed out, the length of it was absurd, almost an inch past my fingertip. Before I could get any words out of my mouth it was glued on and she was starting on the next extension. I closed my eyes for a minute, tried to breath in and somehow calm myself down. My mind had finally figured what to say to her, but looking at my hands it was too late, all ten extensions had been glued on and my hands were now under a purple light.

She explained the light would make the extension permanent, resistant to breaking and impossible to cut. The salon used a softener then filed the nails to the proper shape, but once dry and another treatment under the purple light they were impossible to cut.

I moaned and passed out slumping back against the chair I was sitting on. When I awoke someone had placed a cool rag over my eyes, and the other lady I had met when entering the salon was holding my hand. She assured me everything would be alright, now that my new nails had been shortened a little all they needed was some nail polish. I looked down quickly at the nails to see if they were indeed shorter, and sighed. If the length was shorter it was only by a quarter of an inch if that.

I sat there in a daze as four coats of polish were applied to my new nails. Each coat made the nails more noticeable, prettier and now impossible to hide. Maybe a pair of gloves would hide the long nails, but none were to be had. The color was rose pink, vibrant and not to be missed. The last clear coat made the nails shine, like they had been polished to a diamond like shine. My lady friend came back to sit with me so that the polish could dry thoroughly before I could use my fingers.

When she asked if my Mother knew about my love for long nails I almost choked on my tongue. She kept hold of my hand making a point to avoid the fingertips and the wet polish. I stared at her, she smiled telling me she had recognized me from the other salon, and knew my Mother and sisters well. Since you had traveled way over here to have your nails done I presume the answer to that question is no.

I have made you a follow up appointment at the other salon, riding a bus to get to your appointment is not advisable, it is so much easier to use the one that is only blocks from your house. You will need weekly appointments like the other members of your family, since the salon has to do the maintenance on your nails and any polish changes.

Now pay for your services and I will drive you home. I was pulled up from my chair and hugged tightly, then pushed towards the front desk to pay for my new nails. I did take me awhile to remove the cash from my wallet, since the nails hindered that normal easy task, making it now almost impossible.

I now realize why a purse was so necessary for a female, maybe not solving all of the problems but much easier than a wallet or pocket to use. I wondered if my lady friend was going to tell my Mom about my nails, but when my mind actively engaged again I realized it made no difference, since my nails will be around for months, not much chance to hide them from her for that long.

My lady friend appeared with her purse and keys leading me to her car. The drive took about a half hour, as she parked in my driveway waiting for me to get out. I started to open the door, but was pulled back for another hug. The nails are gorgeous, and Carey will be okay. She will see me in a week for my next appointment. I was almost to the house when I became aware of her calling me Carey. A smile appeared on my face, Carey it is.

She waited until I managed to get the house keys out of my front pocket, and the door unlocked before she pulled out. I entered the house and promptly sank to the floor, the tears and pent up emotions taking over my body. It seemed to be forever before my tears subsided some, my cheeks now wet and tears dripping off my face. I got to my feet and walked to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. My reservoir for tear production needed to be replenished. Sipping a bottle of water I went to the living room and sat on the sofa, the first thing I did was to splay my fingers so I could look at my gorgeous nails.

Then all of the day’s happenings flooded my mind, and the tightness in my stomach reappeared. Mom and my sisters would be back tomorrow, and there was no way to keep them from seeing my long feminine nails. Then finding a job, while sporting the long nails seemed impossible, not many working women have nails this long.

Being a member of the male gender, I am sure not many males have such elegant polished fingernails. I had pretty much ruled out any more schooling, the money for tuition better spent on getting a job to sustain myself.

Lets face it I am never going to be a CEO or anything else in management, these nails more likely leading to a job as a bimbo or lady of the evening. Even that seemed far fetched since I was not a natural born female, life in general was looking bleak, but I had no one to blame but myself. I managed to sleep some not because I was tired but because it helped shut down my mind, the worry and fear building to levels I did not want to embrace.

I wasted the time they were away worrying about what will happen when they return. The day of them coming back is now here, no recourse left but to face my Mother and hope she somehow could live with her weird son. I threw up twice that morning, nothing I ate wanted to stay down.

At a little before ten Mom’s car pulled into the garage. I was sitting in the living room staring at my nails, hoping if things turned out bad that it would end quickly. Mom does get carried away sometimes, that fleeting thought of things ending quickly most likely not to happen ever. No such luck, I was probably facing a long drawn out punishment.

The three of them walked into the living room with Mom the first asking to see one of my hands. They knew somehow so I am sure I will be punished maybe even sent to military school, a threat used on occasion when I misbehaved in the past.

I reached out with my hand, the nails turned up, no use trying to hide them now. She took my hand carefully and looked at each nail, before showing my sisters the long fingernails painted such a bright pink color. Meanwhile my sisters moved closer and hugged me, sandwiching me between them. I looked up at their faces as they mentioned it took you long enough to get the nails. My mouth sprang open, surprise on my face as I tried to figure out what they meant. Mom still holding on to my hand tightly, seeming like she didn’t want to let go.

I did get to sit back down as Mom carried some takeout they had stopped and picked up to the kitchen. Her head reappearing in the door telling me to get my butt in the kitchen and set the table. That statement delivered in her no nonsense tone of voice. I almost tripped in my hurry to do as she asked. I managed to set the table then took my usual place at the table.

All eyes were on me as I struggled to eat with the longer nails. I did get a smile from time to time from them as they watched me try and make my fingers do what I wanted them to do. Mom asked if I had found a job yet, it takes money to keep your nails up and to get the polish changed to match your outfits. I looked at her questioningly, she seemed to be accepting of my nails, now what the heck do I do.

I got volunteered to do the few dishes we had, as they sat at the kitchen bar watching me work. Mom suggested a shopping trip tomorrow, since my choice of clothes that might look appropriate with the nails is non-existent. I quickly looked between the three of them for some clue to what they meant. No help from them, only a few giggles to frustrate me even more.

I decided to confess everything, my nerves were shot and my stomach was acting like a volcano. I told them about my desires and my utter fascination with long nails and the polish that goes on them. I told then how I had called for an appointment and about the lady who had comforted me and brought me home. I felt like a big weight had been taken off my shoulders as I finished my tale, then lowered my head to stare at the floor to await my punishment.

Mom put her hand under my chin and made me look her in the eyes. Carey we have known about this for almost a year, just waiting for you to finally do something about it.

The lady who comforted you is Francine owner of the salons and she knew you would eventually call and make an appointment to have your nails done. We talked about it often, even indulging in a side bet as to when you might take the initiative and make an appointment. In fact she called me on my cell phone letting me know that she had won the bet, her betting that as we left town Carey would be calling for an appointment and you did.

Now as to your future I think a couple of years in a girls’ finishing school might be called for, you have so much to learn. Sending you away will insure you focus on your studies, we can’t have some tomboy as part of the family. I am sure we can get you in right away, after we get your new wardrobe picked out.

Now be a dear and round up the laundry, no time like the present to assume the female role in life. It is not all rosy as you might imagine, lots of work and tasks that are not that enjoyable. Maybe we can get you shipped off to finishing school by next Monday. With my head down and tears coming to my eyes I walked upstairs to gather the laundry.

This is not the outcome I had in mind when I wanted to indulge my fantasy, far from it. I got it all rounded up and dragged the basket to the laundry room. I sorted it out, then started the first load. I walked back to the kitchen to see my friend from the salon sitting and talking to Mom. I went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water offering to get one for Mom and Francine too. They were fine but Francine wanted to talk to me.

Francine asked me if I was excited to be able to go to a girl’s finishing school. I looked at her not knowing what to say. She smiled and asked if she offered me a job at the salon would I be interested. Well I was all over her in a heart beat kissing, and hugging her for all I am worth. I let up on her for a moment deciding to make sure Mom will not poo poo the idea. Mom giving up early just holding her hand up to stop any planned attack on her person.

Francine told me the job is for a female, no masculinity allowed in any of her salons. We furnish a uniform, brief and the ultimate in femininity, I think you will find it quite adequate. A few changes to your body necessary to fit the gender you will be portraying. I think you will like the changes, but even if you don’t they are a requirement. You will have to have nice nails all the time, maximum length and polished at all times. Nail art as needed to encourage the customers to try some for themselves.

You will be handling the phones taking appointments and helping in the salon when needed. Of course, handling customers as they check out and making follow up appointments for them. I was literally bouncing so excited to be offered a job and to be able to keep the nails in the process.

It was later that evening when all that comes with the job made it to my minuscule mind. Along with keeping the nails I loved I will be dressing and living as a female 24/7 for the duration. Now there might be a problem, since my life on this planet so far has been in the male persona.

I spent the next couple of days at one of her other salons getting my hair done, ears pierced and the appropriate female enhancements to make my body fit the gender role I will be living. That included a realistic set of breasts that were sucked from my body. I was not that dense that I couldn’t figure out that the changes were fairly permanent and not easily reversed. Having all of my body hair stripped from its happy home made the biggest impression on me. Boy did it hurt. They did treat the area with a cream, making any further treatments not necessary, something I am most grateful for.

I did get a feminine wardrobe, courtesy of the salon, then Mom and my sisters added a few other necessary items so I would always look the part. It was several days before I got used to the undergarments necessary before I could wear the dress or uniform. Mom insisted on no pants of any kind, a way to get used to the female role much quicker. It was a week later when I was deemed ready to take up my new job. I had even got used to wearing heels, according to Francine a necessity for working in the salon.

Back at the salon nearest our house and Carey’s first day at my new job. I was so excited, busy all day, never time to think about things or ponder what might happen in the future, just tend to my job and enjoy life. A couple of words would describe my day, I absolutely loved it.

They are teaching me to do nails, each day a little something new, so that I will eventually have a career that will provide for me in the future. Since Francine has so many salons, I am assured of a job in one of her salons, a future that I can embrace easily.

My sisters are already looking for a young male for me, but so far I have successfully resisted any attempts to go on a date. The interest is already there. The young males, when I am out shopping approaching often, asking for dates or just chatting me up. Maybe some day there will be a place for one of them in my life, but at the moment I am still having too much fun just being a gurl with long elegant nails.

This all started when I got the nails I dreamed of, now I will have them for the rest of my life and couldn’t be happier. Proud and polished is my new mantra.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Cheri, Destination Female

My girlfriend and I had been going steady for almost six months. I was already working, though I had only recently graduated from college. Sherry was still in college, finishing up her last semester.

I was working in the IT department of a local corporation. The job was fairly easy; the only problem was the hours around the weekend. If the gods were with us, the weekend could be enjoyed, but if the servers were acting up on a Friday, the hours piled up as we had to make sure that all was back up and functioning normally for Monday morning’s business.

My birthday was coming up this Friday, making it a special treat for me. I was allowed Friday off, a company rule that you got your birthday off, but still had to work the weekend if needed, that we wouldn’t know until late Friday evening.

Sherry had made me an appointment at her salon for a spa day. I have been a cross dresser for most of my life, with that information shared with her from the start.

At first, she was not enthused about dating a cross dresser, but over the months, she has seen the other side of me, the feminine side. We get along well, sharing a lot of things that most couples never have the chance to.

She loves to shop with me, where I am usually more excited about the choices than she is. My foray into dressing like a woman is pretty much confined to the house, my job keeping me from experiencing things that would allow me to pass in public.

I headed to her salon that bright Friday morning, excited to be able to experience some of my deepest desires. Sherry had talked to her stylist telling her that she wanted me to be able to see the girl in me just once. She had composed a note, informing Jenny, her stylist, of what she wanted to be done for me. Sherry had classes, with tests, later that day keeping her from attending with me. Since one of the classes involved a big test she couldn’t just ditch the class for the day.

All of the tasks performed at the salon would be temporary and easily washed off or out before I had to go to work. I carried the note with me, although it was in a sealed envelope. Sherry wanted my birthday present to be truly a surprise, something that I might remember for quite some time. My anticipation alone making everything seem much brighter and almost alive. Yes, I was extremely excited.

I made it to the salon a little before my appointment; Jenny was already there waiting for me with a glass of wine. She wished me a Happy Birthday and took me back to her station. I passed the note to her, then waited for her to read the contents. She got called to the front for a phone call, ten minutes later she returned ready to start. She leaned the chair back, so she could wash and condition my hair. The receptionist came back to see her, handing her the note she had forgotten up front.

As she washed my hair it felt so good, I was purring inside as she raised the chair back to its upright position. I had finished the wine while she was upfront, so she refilled my glass. She ran a comb through my hair, getting out the tangles, and then snipped off my split ends (her words).

She consulted the list, made a mention that the list was quite detailed, longer than she first thought, but quickly lowered the chair back down and started on me. She mixed a solution in a bottle, then started squirting it on my roots then massaged it into the rest of my hair.

The one thing that I had managed to do with my job was to grow my hair longer than it has ever been. Since IT department employees usually implied nerds, a nerd with long hair in a ponytail is not an unexpected occurrence. My hair reached my shoulder blades, a brunette although the sun had lightened it some. Other than brushing it daily, it has not had anything done to it in years.

When Jenny finished applying the solution, she refilled my wine glass again and then moved to the next item on the list. In the meantime, a large plastic bag had been placed over my hair to help process the treatment.

I was told that the hair treatment had to be left on for thirty minutes, so now would be a good time to work on my nails. She soaked my hands in a bowl of solution, according to her to soften the cuticles. I had almost finished the last glass of wine, so she waited as I tipped it back and drank all that was left. My head was already fuzzy, and this last drink put me out of it.

As if you can’t tell I am not a wine drinker, but the nervousness from being made feminine had me knocking the glasses back one after another. Anything more than one glass of wine shuts down any mental functions. I was still somewhat awake, but no coherent thoughts were being processed by my brain. I watched as she worked on my cuticles, filed my nails a little then applied extensions to my fingernails.

The extensions were way longer than my fingertips, but looked good, like they should have been that long from the start. A coat of a base polish, then a coral pink polish and finally a topcoat were applied over the next twenty minutes. Then it was time to rinse my hair, again her fingers massaging my scalp felt so good.

I took a peek in the mirror in front of me; my hair was so blonde almost a whitish blonde if there is such a thing. It did look good, though; my brain failed to notice that my brunette color was gone for good since all the natural color had been bleached out.

Back to my nails as my hands were placed inside a lighted box to set the polish. The only fleeting thought was that those nails are so feminine, even though they were on a male. It seemed like the fuzziness was getting thicker, like being stuck in an early morning fog, thicker and thicker, then only dissipating after the sun popped its head up. No sun here to dissipate my mental fog.

Back to the here and now, I think, as Jenny pointed a gun-like object at my ears. Six clicks later my earlobes felt funny, the heat from the laser warming up my earlobes as the laser made a perfectly sealed hole for the studs and hoops. The earrings looked so good with my light blonde hair, their gold and ruby coloring making a nice contrast to my new hair color. Still no comprehension on my part about my now bleached hair.

She had wrapped my hair in a towel and reclined my chair so she could work on my face. She used something to work on my eyebrows, as I felt little stings as she removed hairs that did not belong. The only thought I had was that I didn’t have many eyebrow hairs to start with and now even less. When she moved from in front of me I hardly saw any eyebrow at all; my face looked so much better with a thin fine brow line instead of what I possessed on entering the salon.

I felt several creams and masks over the next hour being applied to my face, massaged in and then cleaned off with an astringent later. Then false eyelashes were applied to my own eyelashes. These were individual lashes glued to my own eyelash, although much longer and thicker.

The image in the mirror looked so perfect, even through the fuzziness of my mind I liked what I saw. It was just that I was feeling so good, the female inside me is emerging, and I was ecstatic.

The fact that all of this was too much, too soon, and would cause such havoc with my life never gaining a foothold in my befuddled mind.

Jenny removed the towel from my head, using a spray bottle to moisten the hair again. Then lots of curlers were wound into my Champagne blonde hair, varying in size but with only one purpose, to turn my semi-straight blonde locks into a curly, bouncy feminine hairstyle.

Under a dryer to get the hair dry, then thirty minutes later the curlers were removed. In their place, the tightly wound hair returned to the way it was in the curler. Jenny used a brush to loosen the curls, a soft, bouncy feminine hairstyle that framed my face the end result.

More than half of the day had passed, Jenny did ask me if I wanted anything to eat, but spoken words were getting harder to understand, so I declined, at least that is what I thought that she had asked.

My next treat was to be makeup, something I had wanted to wear for ages, but time and inexperience had prevented that treat. Jenny went through a wide range of cosmetics from concealer to lipstick, applying each with precision. The image that was in the mirror was not what I was used to seeing, it was what I wanted to see, but never got the chance to visualize.

Jenny left me shortly after that; there was some commotion in the front of the salon between several ladies. There were several phone calls made and then Jenny returned. She told me there had been a mishap, and my girlfriend had been called. She told me to relax and get comfortable until she arrived.

For some reason, I just closed my eyes and was soon asleep. Later Jenny was asking me to wake up, shaking my shoulder to get my attention. I glanced around quickly remembering that I was in the salon, then seeing Sherry in the back talking to another lady.

They went into the ladies office; then shortly Jenny came to get me. As she led me to the office, I kept getting glimpses of an attractive female in the mirrors as we passed. As we entered the office, Sherry hugged me tightly, almost too tight, as I felt like she was squeezing the life out of me.

I was offered a chair and with a few wobbles, I managed to get seated. The other lady introduced herself as Francine, the owner of the salon. She asked if I was clear-headed yet, my funny look answering her question.

She talked with Sherry instead telling her that the lists got mixed up, and the end results are what you are looking at. Since the hair is so light, we can’t put another color on for a couple of weeks, the facial and masks were using the new technology that stops and prevents any hair growth. Since the eyebrow area was also treated, he will not have any more hair there than he has now.

The nails are fused on, and the polish is one of our longest lasting. In other words, what you see is going to be his look for the near future.

Since the salon is the one that made the mistake, there is no charge for any of this. Jenny remembered that you had told her that he is employed, so if you give me his work number, I will call and explain all that has happened. I suggest with his looks that she dress as a female for a couple of months until we can access whether to reverse the changes, the ones we can or proceed with more to complete the look.

If his work doesn't allow him to return as a female, I will match his salary until we can find him other employment. Her clothes will come from our boutique. Jenny will go over there now and pick out a set of clothes for her now. After I have talked to her work, we will decide what next to do. I sat there in a daze as Francine made phone calls and Sherry just stared at me. Several times she tried to start a conversation with me, but my answers made her aware that I was still not with the program.

Jenny came to get me, and we went back to the treatment room. She helped me out of my clothes and laid me back on a flat table. Two breast forms were laid on my chest and their proper position marked with a marker. She added glue and the forms were re-positioned within the marks. She placed one of my hands on each and then slid a pair of panties up my legs. I lifted my hips to allow them to be brought up all the way.

She tucked my member so that the front is smooth and flat. I am aware of all of this, but it is as if I was watching a movie, not thinking about anything but my new look.

I am helped up, and a bra is slid over my shoulders. She fastened it in the back, adjusted the straps and settled my breasts more comfortably in the cups. A camisole is next, then a cute sweater. I am fascinated by my image in the mirror, the image I have hoped to see for years.

A skirt is added to the mix and fastened in the back and zipped up. A pair of low heels are slid on my feet, and then I am taken back to the office. Sherry and Francine are talking as I enter and all conversation stops. Sherry hugs me, trying to squeeze my insides out once again.

She gets right in front of me, telling me that I have to work tomorrow, the main servers are down, and only Mark is in town to help me. Melissa, the department head will be there also since they are three technicians short.

I guess that is what it took to sober me up, I looked down at my body and broke into tears. Sherry comforted me; everything has been explained to Melissa, she doesn’t have any problem with it, but mentioned that I might kidded a little next week by a few of the good old boys.

Sherry took me home, the drive there totally in silence. I was shocked at my looks, the image that I always wanted is now exhibited on my body, except things like work and real life has not changed. I find my way into the house and went straight to our bedroom. I stare at the full-length mirror on our closet door trying to see if anything masculine is hiding somewhere in that image.

Sherry comes into the bedroom, hugging me and getting me to sit on the edge of the bed. My head still hurts, maybe a little more coherent, but not by much. I must have drank way too much, my head has never hurt this much before.

She assures me that Melissa is alright with my new looks, and she will speak to the guys before Monday to keep the teasing down to a dull roar. In a way she is anxious to see the new you, maybe something she could get used to and keep for the future. Another female in the department would be most welcome as far as she is cncerned.

Between the wine and the stress of finding out I have to work and the gorgeous female image that I see in the mirror, sleep comes pretty easily. Sherry had laid me back on the bed, gave me a sensuous kiss and told me to sleep tight.

When I wake up the next day, it all comes back to me, along with a dull ache in my head due to the wine. Sherry is already up and helps me get dressed in another outfit. I get to wear a pair of her pants and a sweatshirt, but the breasts make the image very feminine.

She helps me with my hair, adds some makeup after she cleans off the old then hands me a purse with my wallet, lipstick, and mascara for the day. I look at her, she points to my lack of pockets, gives me a kiss and tells me to have a good day. The stare I returned to her wish for me to have a good day caused her to erupt in giggles.

I walk out of the house and get into my car, then head to work. By the time I get there my nerves are frazzled, but Melissa had pulled into the parking lot at the same time and opens my door. She compliments me on my hair, loves my nails, then just leans forward, and I get a hug from her.

We walk in together, and she shows me where to put my purse. I start on the main server running diagnostics trying to pinpoint the problem. Melissa had walked up behind me, and was watching me run the different tests. She commented that the longer nails don’t seem to be bothering you, in fact, she thinks I am faster than without them.

About this time Mark shows up, he also steps behind me and watches me work. I know he is there, but I don’t want to acknowledge him since I fear his teasing and wise ass remarks.

However, none of that happens, he spots a broken link, caused by one of the switches and heads there to check it out. As he leaves, I let out a big sigh; I feel like I had just been able to walk away from a firing squad with no blood present on my body. Melissa goes to check the hard drives to make sure one of the connections have not come loose.

Shortly, Mark returns telling me that the switch was okay. I had only two more diagnostic tests to run; then I would be done. If it wasn’t on the main server, we would have to check the other servers where some of the data is stored. He stood behind me watching the code scroll across the screen.

His next comment surprised me. “You are pretty good for a girl, fast, accurate and pretty to look at.” Melissa giggled in the background; I think she is taken unless you want to tangle with Sherry. Mark blushed red, said he would start checking the other servers, but I still think you are quite attractive, as he walked away.

The last diagnostic test found an error in one of the modules, so I started re-installing the data from the latest backup to overwrite the error. Other than taking quite a bit of time, it is easily fixed. Five hours after we had started the repairs we were able to walk away from the office. I had run some tests to make sure all was operating properly, the success of these making us feel pretty good. Failures on a weekend don’t always have solutions, and especially as uncomplicated as this. Melissa thanked me for coming in and told me she would see me Monday. I pointed to myself; she got the hint.

“It might be nicer if you wore a skirt or dress, but other than that we hired you for your skills not how you look. Today showed me I had made a good choice when I hired you. Thanks again for your help, maybe Sherry could use a little extra loving tonight, you know her good for nothing boyfriend skipped out on her. Since you know how her boyfriend can be, maybe you could ease her pain a little.” She giggled and pushed me out the door.

The drive home seemed to take longer, maybe since the crisis had been taken care of the urgency not there anymore. I parked in the driveway, then made my way into the house. Sherry came running from the kitchen to greet me; I think she is more worried than I am that I might lose my job. She wanted to know what happened, so with the diet soda she had handed me, I sat on the couch and filled her in. She giggled about Mark’s remarks, but I could also see where they bothered her a little too.

She had made us some supper, so we adjourned to the kitchen to consume some of her cooking. It was superb since I hadn’t eaten anything this morning because of my nerves. It turns out I was famished, even taking a second helping of one of the dishes.

I helped her clean up, something I had never done before. It somehow seemed like the right thing to do now. We headed to the living room where we sat and talked into the wee hours of the morning. One more day to go before Monday, a day that I was already dreading with a passion.

Sherry had made a trip back to the salon to get me more outfits for the upcoming week; I was apparently going to be one of the best dressed IT people come Monday. She had me practice walking in heels, also sitting and keeping myself modest. We had another tasty meal, and I again helped her clean up and put away the dishes.

She told me right then she would never let me return to being a male, my actions the last two days making her love the new person in her life that much more. That is, if that was even possible.

We talked a lot that night, mainly of what to do about my work. The consensuses at the salon is that it would be at least a month before some of the changes could be reversed or undone. I asked her about losing her future husband; her reply startled me.

He was alright, but the person sitting by me is so much more loving and caring, I would gladly trade him in at the first opportunity. I smiled, maybe this might work out, I know I am ecstatic at my new look, the feminine me locked in the closet for years finally seeing a little daylight. That is when I forget about all of the problems associated with this, most likely to surface tomorrow.

On Monday Sherry helped me dress, did my makeup and hair and then I headed to work. In a way, I was more nervous today than when I had to come in on Saturday. Lots of people to deal with, and explain why I am dressed the way I am.

I got to my office and started doing my daily routine getting all the servers up and running, making sure that all the virus protection is functioning properly. I checked my email, finding one from Melissa explaining about me. It was short and sweet and sent to the entire company. Chad is now dressing as a female, still performing his tasks as before. They will be no harassment of this employee, failure to abide with this will result in termination of your employment immediately.

By now most of the employees had arrived at work and were signing on to the system. There is a little more traffic in front of my office, the curiosity of some of them requiring a look at the new female in IT.

After getting the servers up and running I kept working on a new addition to one of our programs, letting the outside sales force to tap into our system, to utilize the warehouse inventory figures and check on available shipping dates. I was making sure it was functional before I uploaded it to the main server. Melissa called and asked me to come to her office.

As I walked that way I began to get nervous, I know she had made it a lot easier for me, but that was before the corporate executives could put their two cents into the mix. I knocked then entered, noticing she had another female with her. I thought I recognized her, but wasn’t positive.

Melissa introduced me to Sheila, the head of personnel, Human Resources for those requiring a more politically correct term these days. They both greeted me, and I was able to sit in the other chair without making a fool of myself. Melissa smiled. “Relax; this is good news; we just need to run this all by you.”

Sheila explained that the company had been fighting gender requirements for several years. The government requiring more females in higher level positions in the company. Finding qualified females to fill those positions, quite difficult at times. When Melissa called this morning, explaining your problem this weekend, I asked to meet with her; this might help us solve several situations that we are faced with now.

Melissa is going to be promoted to head of all computer operations for the company. This leaves her old position vacant. You were already slotted for her old job, before this weekend.

What we would like to talk to you about is declaring yourself transgender with regards to your employment with the company. Thus allowing us to use your new female status to ease our restrictions with regards to gender quotas. You can, of course, change your mind later, a lot of transgender individuals do, so you would not be sacrificing your gender permanently. It would require you to dress and act female here at work for the foreseeable future.

I know this is sudden, but it would help us out and ensure you a hassle free time in the future. Melissa has told me of your success this past weekend, and your presentation now is quite professional. Of course, you will receive a substantial raise, a few more perks health wise, and some retirement benefits not previously offered to your present job description.

We would like you to take the afternoon off and talk with your girlfriend, then give me a call later today with your decision. Melissa will remain your boss, both of you just stepping up one level. The CEO has already been told of this offer, she agrees with our suggestions, so now all you have to do is let us know your decision. They asked if I had any more questions, since I had none, Sheila then left to go back to her office.

Melissa smiled, see what happens when you dress as a female at work. She congratulated me on the promotion, quite confident that Sherry will approve of my gender change. I left her office and returned to mine. I closed out my work, shut down my computer and got ready to leave. Mark came into the office, shaking my hand, but looking a little sheepish.

He had already heard of the promotion but wanted to make sure he apologized for his words over the weekend. He admitted he was out of line making comments about my attractiveness; his opinion has not changed, but he now realizes he can no longer publicly make that statement.

He appreciates my experience and knowledge and feels fortunate to be able to work with me in the future. I give him a little smile, but tell him his ability to shovel the crap around is still first class. I start to giggle, as he relaxed some.

I tell him to call me at home if there is any problem, otherwise, I will see him first thing tomorrow morning. The drive home seemed much longer than normal, but getting home, I did feel better. Sherry would not be home for several hours since this is her long day.

I made my way to the den, a favorite spot for me to stop and think through problems that affected me. The window at the back of the room is overlooking a quiet, serene spot in the backyard where squirrels and birds often played splashing around in the birdbath and trying to bury the nuts they harvested in the ground surrounding the area.

I sat there for quite some time when I heard the front door close. I had intended to fix dinner, but my zoning out had nixed that idea. I gave her a big hug, she wanting to know how my day went. I told her I was home at one, being sent home by the powers to be.

She grabbed me and tried to comfort me, thinking I had been fired. I suppressed a giggle, much harder to do then when Sherry managed the task. I told her since I had wasted my time this afternoon, I would take her out to dinner. She looked at me strangely, suggesting that it might be better to save what money I had left.

This time, the giggle won out, she hit my arm hard, wanting the truth and all of it. I told her to change clothes and I would confess all at the restaurant. I called the restaurant I had in mind and made reservations, they had several private rooms that would be perfect for my surprise.

I even went and changed into my only other female outfit, a red business suit, with a pencil skirt. I almost changed back when I tried to walk in the skirt, but decided to brave it out. When Sherry emerged, she took one look at me, and raised her arm, but I told her no, she had to be a good girl and wait until we got to the restaurant. I could see she was frustrated and often when she got that way she wanted to hit something, and since I was withholding information I was the one to hit.

Since I did not have a proper driver’s license she drove when she saw where I had her drive too, she gave me a look, and I could see tears sliding down her face. She managed to find somewhere to park, and we entered the restaurant. I gave my name, and we were shown to the private room. The waiter helped us with our chairs and took our drink orders.

I think I figured out what Sherry thought might be happening, so I changed directions a little. I had been contemplating asking her to marry me for quite some time, finances and my go nowhere job holding me back.

I figured out I would lead with that, at the same time slipping my mother’s ring off my pinkie finger. She had given it to me with the intent that I would give it to my fiancé when and if I asked her to marry me. I think Mom had doubts whether I would marry, since she is aware of my need to dress in female clothes.

Our drinks were brought, and the waiter took our orders. I ordered two of their house chicken salads, a favorite of ours when we ate there in the past. They were expensive, but more than one person could eat.

I took Sherry’s hand and held it in my own, telling her how much I loved her. I told her I would normally get on my knee, but the pencil skirt might not allow that maneuver, so she would have to accept this. I asked her to marry me but wanted to make sure she would have no trouble with me as Cheri.

She mouthed yes, I had managed to leave her at a loss of words. I slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her on the lips. I had scooted my chair closer, and we played tonsil hockey for quite some time. The waiter had noticed and had returned our food to the kitchen to be brought back out when we were through kissing. I presume he figured the kiss would take some time.

It did require quite a bit of time for us to return to the here and now. A lot of kissing and quite a few tears shed by both of us. The food was returned when the waiter saw our faces for more than a few seconds. We nibbled while maintaining hand contact with the other hand.

Like two new lovers, we couldn’t get close enough to each other or allow any distance between us for fear of losing one another. The salads were good, though anti-climactic to the proposal. When we finished, she remembered me being home early and asked what I was going to do now that I didn’t have a job.

I looked sullen, like if I had been reminded of something I wanted to forget. The giggle escaped anyway, and Sherry hit me again. I told her she was damaging the merchandise; she just stared at me, good, now tell me the truth. I told her about the promotion, the pay, and the better benefits. She was thrilled; then I told her Cheri is now here to stay. She stared at me trying to understand why Cheri is here to stay. I explained what Sheila had said, about the fact that I could change my mind later, but also why I thought that would never happen.

Number one it involved the government, once I am listed as transgendered, it would take an act of quite higher power to actually allow me to dress as a male again. Then most likely they would just fine the company for noncompliance. Two, to live as a female for any length of time will require what I have now undergone and much more. Changing back to a male is not going to be easy at any stage of this deal. I told her I love her with all of my being, but she needs to know that she is marrying Cheri, not Chad.

She thought for a minute, then in a normal tone told me that she accepts, but if she carries the baby to term, I have to agree to breastfeed the little darling when it pops out, also the diapers. The biggest smile I have seen on her face since we started going together is plastered there; then she starts giggling as she reaches for my breasts.

I guess everything went alright; Sherry did agree to marry me, the Cheri me, and with the new job, I will be able to support us much easier than before. It took me several weeks to get used to the changes. Each day it became easier to become Cheri, I soon acquired the skills to maintain my hair and do my own makeup. The job is much easier than I anticipated, the work primarily what I had already been doing, although a little more of it.

Mark had quietly spread the word about me, warning the other guys about what they said to me. I got a reference to my male self once in a while, but when I didn’t comment the subject was quickly dropped.

Sherry never flinched once when I appeared every day as a female. She treated me the same as before, although the loving and romance side of things got more interesting.

When I made an appointment to get my roots done, it was suggested by Sherry that I go ahead and make the full change except for junior. The day before my appointment she called me late at the office wanting me to go by the sperm bank and make a donation. Melissa was in my office at the time, and when I mentioned sperm bank she broke out in giggles.

After hanging up, Melissa asked if she could come along and help me make the donation, then broke out in uncontrolled laughter. I reminded her of the company rules on harassment, but she said that didn’t apply to females. Then more laughter.

Red in the face I closed up my computer and got ready to leave. I had gotten the address from the internet and was on my way. I arrived about thirty minutes later, entered the lobby and told them I wanted to make a sperm donation.

The receptionist looked at me, wondering if this female standing in front of her is nuts. I finally figured out the problem and quietly whispered to her that I am a male, and my girlfriend wants me to make a contribution to be used later.

She gathered up the forms necessary for the donation, had me sign in the appropriate places than handed me a vial to use to gather the donation in. All the time she is straining not to break into laughter. I went into the room designated, lifted my skirt and removed my undergarments until junior is free. It took me a while, but finally thinking of Sherry sucking on my breasts made the donation possible.

I went back to the reception desk, handed her the vial and thanked her for her help. She had calmed down quite a bit, apologizing for her actions, and thanking me for the pleasant break in her day. Jokingly she asked who is going to have the baby, with a straight face,

I responded that it is up in the air at the moment; Sherry wants me to do it, but then she doesn’t want to breastfeed, so it looks as if I will be doing the breastfeeding and diaper changing. She made me promise to keep her informed of who is doing what, now that she knows part of it she is dying to hear the eventual outcome.

I made it home about forty minutes later, the traffic is horrible, the sperm bank being on the other side of town not helping in my commute. Sherry had dinner ready but had to find out what happened at the sperm bank first. I conveyed the story, even giggling myself some now, it did sound quite unusual, and my remarks about possibly carrying the baby made Sherry break into raucous laughter. Her only comment is we might just do that; I know I would prefer it that way.

The last few days her cooking has reached epic proportions. She has always been a good cook, but the last few nights I have felt like I had died and went to heaven when consuming her meals. We talked some about getting married but decided to hold back a while to make sure that my promotion was genuine, not just a maneuver by the company to keep from getting in trouble.

Even though I cross-dressed most of my life living full time is quite different. It is another whole routine that females go through every day, makeup, hair, clothes selection, and the biggest, body maintenance. At night, removing my makeup, cleansing my face, then moisturizing, all just so that I can put on a nightie and get some sleep.

Sherry, however, is not content with me getting some sleep, my new equipment is constantly being stimulated by her, her whispering in my ear that all of her foreplay is leading up to getting me pregnant, then I can stay at home and raise our children. I do have an opinion on that, just not sure what exactly it is or if it should be voiced.

I know me getting pregnant is not possible, although it has always had a place in my dream fantasy. I think most males who worship being a female wish they could experience that aspect of the female life, but maybe wanting it and actually experiencing it are two different things.

Every morning, an extra hour is required to get me ready for a day at work. As a male, I just pulled on a pair of pants, a shirt, did my bathroom things and strode out the door. Not so for a female, picking out something to wear, doing my hair and makeup, then getting dressed, checking my purse for the essentials to make it through the day, then the appropriate shoes before I head to the door.

I forgot to include numerous checks in the mirror to make sure my female image is up to standard, a usual application of another coat of lipstick or gloss to make the image perfect.

I had managed to get a driver’s license with female as the gender and my first name changed to Cheri, so the drive to work is less stressful. At first, I was petrified at being pulled over and asked for my I.D. Then being arrested and taken to the station to be interrogated about my identity. I know, an overkill, but the fear was real. On the way to work any police vehicle, even going in the opposite direction, causing me a lot of grief and worry.

Work went well, my staff and I were caught up on everything, now working on new programs to be added to the servers. I worked several more Saturdays, even a Sunday or two, when the servers gave us trouble. There was never any remarks made again by any of my male staff. I think the one occurrence with Mark was enough to prohibit any others. Melissa and I got along even better, even eating some lunches together from time to time.

The best part was the relationship between Sherry and me. We were much closer than before, she was teaching me to cook, among other things. We went out shopping, my enthusiasm and her practicality a good blend. Our late night conferences in our bedroom were always looked forward to.

We snuggled, kissed, licked, and otherwise manipulated each other to great heights. Then we would cuddle, enjoying where we had been, and looking forward to many more days ahead. A truly fantastic future, all made possible when a list got mislaid. A lifelong adventure now unfolding.

It was about a year from when I was promoted when I was called into the CEO’s office. The visit worried me, seldom do any of the lower echelon staff ever have any interaction with upper level management, especially in this company.

As I was shown into the office, Melissa was seated to the right, and a new representative from Human resources to the left of the desk. The only chair left right was in front of her desk. I nervously sat down placing my hands in my lap, like a proper lady is taught to do.

“Cheri, my name is Janice, and we are here to discuss some changes in the computer department. Melissa is returning to her original job, as per her request. I will let her tell you why, when this meeting is over. That leaves her present position open, you are more than qualified to fill the position, and we just have one minor question to ask first.”

“H.R. and myself are quite happy with how you have handled yourself, over the last year, and we hope we might be able to persuade you to continue your employment here as a female. Technically we shouldn’t be having this conversation with you, but we do care about the relationship here between the company and you.”

Of course, if you accept there will be more money, a much better benefit package, and a fully funded retirement package. Please take a few hours to think about this, I am sure you will want to talk to Melissa as to her reasons to step down, then maybe your fiance should be consulted also. Come back to the office later, or send me an email once you decide. I do hope your answer will be in the affirmative.

Melissa and I left the office, with me staring her down as we walked back to her office. She set in her chair, gave me a big smile and told me she is pregnant, wanting to deal with a lot less stress as she carried the baby. Besides you are doing so well, it won’t even task you brain to handle the job.

Of course, I hugged her congratulating her on the baby, asking when it is due and if she already knows the sex of the baby. Have you taken the time to do the baby’s room yet? Is papa excited about the new arrival?

A bigger smile, “you are such a girl Cheri, I wondered why I didn’t see it from the first time I met you.”

I knew I would accept, what I was living now a wonderful dream come true. Whether to ask Sherry first is now the question, Chad would have not gone to the trouble, just accepted the position and went on with his life.

The fact that Sherry had supported me through all of this not lost on me. We were a team, and she needed to be consulted. I think I knew her answer ahead of time, but still needed to confide in her. I made the call, wanting to know if she was busy. She had one of her big finals earlier today and I am sure she was stressed out.

She was free, what did I have in mind, I suggested a meal out and a movie afterwards. I had kept my appearances limited initially, not confident enough to go around in dresses and makeup. At the office I felt that everyone knew me, so I did wear feminine clothes quite often, not dresses every day, but at least a skirt and top or feminine pants and a top or sweater. Everybody assured me that I was quite passable, but I still had lingering doubts. Tonight I was going to get rid of those doubts.

I had made reservations for dinner, a nicer restaurant that served a variety of cuisines. I made the trip home, made up a bath of heavenly scents and dove in. I was soaking when Sherry came in. “Oh, a delightful bath that smells so good, what is the special occasion? I take it that something went right today, or is it the other way around? The fragrant bath to make a bad day go away.”

“You will have to wait for that answer. We have time, should I fix one of these for you?”

“A mystery huh, yeah I might as well smell wonderful for this occasion too.”

I removed myself from the tub, drained out the water and fixed her one exactly like mine. Before it had even filled up she was in the tub, luxuriating in the fragrant and oily water. I started dressing, anxious to trap all those wonderful scents next to my body. No holding back tonight, garter belt, stockings, corset and the classic LBD and I do mean little.

When Sherry finally emerged she took one look at me and hurried to her closet. “You could have warned me it was a fancy affair, I will not tolerate my spouse looking better than me.” Giggling sporadically as she threw clothes everywhere trying to decide what to wear.

I moved on to makeup, the last year I had become pretty skilled in applying my own makeup, it took me a while but the results were worth the effort. I even added false eyelashes and several colors of eye shadow blended to match my lipstick and lip liner, a burgundy and dark red combo.

I never did get the ability to do my hair in a myriad of different styles, the mind was willing, but the hands never could perform the tasks. Maybe now I could afford a weekly salon appointment for my hair. I went with my usual, a high ponytail at the rear of my head with dangling ribbons to secure it.

I walked over to the full length mirror, did a spin to make sure all was as it should be then switched my things to a purse that matched my dress. Sherry had been silently watching me, a smile and a smirk evident every once in a while. She looked equally stunning, a strapless crème lace piece of nothing that molded to her figure perfectly. After getting her purse she grabbed my arm and led me to the car.

She made sure I didn’t mess up anything as I entered the vehicle, then helped me buckle my seat belt. I think she just wanted to show off her boobs, keeping them directly in front of me, seemingly about to escape her next to nothing dress. Believe me I was tempted.

I took over once we got to the restaurant, the Maitre’D having my reservation. I had asked for one to their private dining rooms, off to the side but easily accessible. We were seated and the waiter promptly waited on us. I ordered for both of us getting lobster for her and lasagna for me. Once our drinks and salads were delivered she leaned forward and that thousand watt smile came to her face.

“Okay spill the beans, I want the truth you little vixen. Someone is extra happy and looking oh so hot. I would have been just as happy staying at home and getting you out of those clothes, but some allowances have to be made for loved ones. Now start talking.”

“Your hot little vixen now runs the computer department at work. Melissa is pregnant, wanting her old job back so she is less stressed. They asked me if I wanted the job, but I told them the decision had to wait until I asked my significant other what she wanted me to do.”

“There is a stipulation though, I need to still present as a female, a transsexual in transition. The money is quite a bit better, so maybe we can now buy that house we have wanted. It is all up to you, can you stand being with the female me for the rest of your life?”

Well her attacking my lips might just be an affirmative answer. Her tongue instantly part way down my throat. I did see the waiter look through the door and I held up a couple of fingers to delay any delivery of our food. He smiled and withdrew. I guess a lesbian relationship still is a little rare, especially the showing of affection in public as we were obviously engaged in.

I was amazed that they were able to keep the food hot for that long. Sherry eventually ended her attack on my lips. We both had to fix our faces, the lipstick smeared real good. We had adjourned to the ladies room, this major a repair a little much for a compact at the table.

When we returned the waiter went and retrieved our food. Even kept warm it was delicious. I told Sherry everything that had happened, making sure she was well informed on my job and my looks for the future. As soon as we finished dinner, Sherry wanted to go, her agenda could not be completed while we were in a restaurant. She wanted to drive back home, completing the trip in record time.

I was hustled in the house, my clothes strewn along the floor from the front door to the bed. She jerked her dress up, pushed me back on the bed and was straddling me in an instant. I barely had a chance to get situated before her sex was being rubbed all over my mid-section.

Of course, that had the desired effect, soon she had swallowed my male organ into her warm moist lips. It was a few minutes before I needed to get up to prepare for work the next morning before the romantic interlude ended. That day seemed particularly long, no sleep and the memories of all that we did that night still wandering around in my mind.

Shortly after I had been promoted to head of the computer department, Sherry decided I need to take the feminine look up another step. She made the arrangements and took me to the salon.

My old breast forms were removed my chest cleaned, then a clear cup was glued to my chest bigger than my original breast forms. Hoses were hooked to the cups and then a pump was started pulling my flesh up into the cup. It was a steady pull, then switched to a cyclic pull as the cups slowly filled with my tissue.

I was lying there watching what was happening, and was about to put a stop to this. Sherry leaned and kissed me hard, then ran her hand over my groin. That is all it took, my mind went blank, my next thought is if my new assets would fit in my present bras. Six hours later I now had realistic breasts, breasts that are definitely mine.

After the pump shut off, two syringes of liquid were inserted in my nipples, one in each nipple. The hoses were disconnected and I was helped up and into a new and bigger bra. Dressed again Sherry hustled me out of the salon, I apparently had an appointment with her in our bedroom, and she wanted me there quickly.

I felt secure knowing the cup was still protecting my new orbs, but when I was undressed a little while later there was nothing but soft flesh there, the nipple hard and erect. As soon as she got the one nipple in her mouth, my world suddenly exploded. Gawd, that feels so good.

So now after very little sleep for two days, but also sexually worn out I still had to go to work. As usually happens when you are tired, the problems of the world make themselves known. As I entered the office Mark announced that the servers were down, not responding to anything they were doing. When I entered the server room Melissa was busy trying to get any response she could from the unyielding machines.

I glanced around looking for anything out of place. Then I saw the end of a cable in a space between the server and one of the work tables. I smiled, probably the cleaning crew, caught the cable and unplugged it. Not knowing what to do they tried to hide it to keep from getting blamed.

I went over to the cable stooped down, quite a feat for such a tight skirt and plugged it in. The room came alive as the servers began to boot up, lights flashing everywhere. I looked at Melissa, as Mark smiled and I went back to my office. I wish everything was that easy these days.

Unfortunately, the day continued in that vain, one of the hard drives stopped mid-stream, we had to install another one this one fried to a crisp. Then load the backups by hand since it was still midday and the complete backup had not been made yet. Two more minor disasters late afternoon, software freezing up and having to be re-installed. By quitting time we were all ready to leave the building.

In Melissa’s old job I found out that numerous public appearances were mandatory. I attended all of the executive meetings, having to update the others on what our status was. Then once every quarter the company board meeting, explaining to the board members what we were doing and future hardware needs. I had to make and maintain a budget, hardware and labor for my department. I now understood why Melissa wanted to regress back to her old job while pregnant. The tasks were not hard, but time consuming and a little bit stressful.

The first board meeting I attended was stressful for me. I am not sure how much they knew about me, so I was on pins and needles as to what would be asked of me. It turned out to be a non-event, budgets and long range computer needs the only things discussed.

I did notice several of the older gentlemen admiring my boobs more than once. I guess that comes with being a female. Not something I had contemplated when I dreamed of living as a female earlier in my life.

My times at social events, executive meetings and the board meetings were interesting. I had to dress nicer, usually in a dress with jewelry and makeup. Of course, the mandatory salon appointment before the event, can’t have my appearance be judged as marginal or inadequate.

I did enjoy the female part, now wearing dresses to work almost every day. Sherry seemed happier now, I was around more, in a better mood most days, and of course we no longer had to worry about money.

I know in the bedroom she was the dominant one now, my place now below her. A position I was enthusiastic about. On more than one occasion I found myself moaning, even some screaming as she manipulated my new assets to her eventual satisfaction.

This also transferred to our free time. At the drop of a hat we would hit the stores to shop. Not a lot bought, but we managed to keep up with incoming arrivals of new merchandise at every store we normally shopped at. Of course, she made me try everything on, to see how it fit. I later learned even if it was for her, I had to try it on. Turns out we are the same dress size, only I have a little larger bust. Besides she loved to make me model everything, and decide if what I was modeling would work for her.

Eventually all of my male clothes found their way to a thrift store, now both of our closets jammed with our female clothes. The last time I looked there was only two pair of pants, all the rest either skirts or dresses. When Sherry finds our dream house, the one main requirement is lots of closets.

Work settled down and after a very successful year in my department I was promoted again. This time to COO of the company. Melissa after having a couple of kids came back to run the computer department, her hubby being the mother and housewife of the relationship.

Sherry and I have them over often, Melissa talking with my wife and Jamie and I comparing notes. Jamie has adopted the female dress and mannerisms, we often meet at the beauty salon when we have our hair done. Since she has kids to watch during the week and I have my job leaving only Saturdays to be our only time to get beautiful.

Would I change anything if I had to do any of this over? Nope, life has been nearly perfect, and Sherry and I have never been happier. It has been an adventure, but well worth the time and effort. A never ending adventure, I might add.

My secretary entered my office, announcing that the CEO was in a plane crash and was being flown by helicopter to a hospital at this moment. I made a few calls to get people to cover for me, then headed to the hospital. Janice the CEO is one of my dearest friends, but I have called Sherry to keep tabs on her till I can get there. It turns out Janice is only suffering from the trauma of the plane crash, nothing broken or severally damaged.

She had me take over for her until she gets back, so now I am the acting CEO along with my usual COO position for a while. I visit her daily, but all we talk about is her recovery. I try to tell her how things are going back at the business, her only remark to me is that she has someone handling things for her, not to worry.

A female life to be sure, never knowing what will happen next, this just the latest episode. It all started with an oops. I do realize how blessed I am, good friends and a wonderful lover who has always supported me unequivocally. It truly was destination female.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Dana, Equality In Heels

Having just got home from shopping my wife had placed her goodies on our bed. I watched from the bedroom door, always fascinated at her prowess and enthusiasm with regards to shopping.

As she took the contents from each bag she stacked the shoe boxes in separate piles. Two boxes in each pile. There was a picture on one end of the box, a gorgeous high heel displayed there in full color.

My heart skipped a beat, did Ginger actually purchase high heels for her to wear, a wish of mine ever since we married six long years ago. I have mentioned it many times, probably wearing out the subject with her. She has gorgeous legs, but up to now only wore flats around the house and when we went out.

Even to her best friend’s wedding when she was the Maid of Honor, a pair of flats was her choice for footwear. I was never given a reason for her not wearing heels, so eventually I dropped the subject. Now only mentioning it when I saw an attractive woman wearing heels and pointed it out to her.

I still get an icy stare from Ginger when the subject is mentioned but no outright physical hostility shown towards me, yet. I am sure she wanted to say something, but through gritted teeth no words were uttered. I have seen her clench her fists a few times though when the subject was brought up again.

So to have her bring boxes of high heels home thrilled me immensely. Apparently dinner was to come first, as she retreated to the kitchen and warmed the take out she had purchased on the way home. It was barbecue, from one of our favorite places to get food from.

Not many words were spoken during dinner, both of us too busy stuffing our faces, a usual occurrence when we ate the scrumptious food from this particular restaurant.

I helped her clean up, receiving several glances from her, since I seldom helped her clean up in the past.

After all was cleaned up she took my hand and led me to our bedroom, helping me undress along the way. She soon followed in removing her clothes.

Then I was pushed into the shower with her right behind me. She adjusted the water then took some shaving cream off the shelf in the shower and spread it on my legs, everything below my waist, junior included.

My mind suddenly not functioning since junior is hogging all the blood supply. My attempts to find out what she was doing were shushed as if this was an everyday occurrence.

I did become instantly aware when she started shaving my leg with a razor, a cute pink one that was kept with the shaving cream. I again tried to ask her why, but she just put her finger to my lip and continued with her task.

From the waist down she missed nothing, even my pubes got shaved clean. I am sure junior was just trying to help as stiff as he was, which she gladly held on to as she cleaned the area around him with the razor.

I meanwhile was just trying to not cum all over her hand, not an easy task I might add. Gawd she is so wicked.

Then she surprised me as she handed me the shaving cream and asked me to shave her legs. I managed, but my hand was shaking nervously as I performed the task. I was even told to shave her pussy, my hand barely able to manage that task.

Hand shaking, causing me to drop the razor twice as my mind was thinking ahead to a possible play period that might be on the agenda for tonight.

Of course, she was giggling at my nervousness, but I did eventually manage to do the deed. It was a miracle I didn’t nick her with the razor, as bad as my hand was shaking.

We dried each other off, blotting with the towel and not rubbing the skin dry, as per her instructions. Then she handed me some cream, to be used all over her body like she normally applies after her shower. It had a scent, a wonderful flowery scent, that is quite intoxicating.

Junior was again half erect, the idea of smoothing the cream all over her body doing all kinds of wonderful things to him and my body.

After I had covered all of her skin with the cream she took the bottle and applied it to my body too, Junior now fully erect bobbing up and down waiting for his turn to be slathered in the delicious smelling cream. She spent longer than necessary making sure the cream was massaged in, every nook and cranny of my body had a generous layer applied.

Junior did get covered real good, massaged in till it disappeared. I was amazed I was able to not spurt all over the place, although it was touch and go several times.

Back out to the bedroom as she opened her dresser and removed panties, stockings and a piece of lingerie I had never seen before. Then a drawer down and another set was laid next to it. She dressed in the first pile of lingerie, making it so sensual, junior now purple in color, my body racked in desire and now in pain.

She slipped her feet into the first pair of heels on the bed, and I swooned having to sit down on the edge of the bed to keep from falling flat on my face. She walked over till she was facing me, then looked directly into my eyes.

“The time has come for you to either join in or I will return every pair of heels I have bought today.”

I looked at her with a puzzled expression on my face. She handed me the panties from the other pile and told me to take care of junior then slip on the panties. Her finger was pointed toward the bathroom, so I stupidly headed that way.

Junior was no problem my hand rubbing once up and down his shaft and I came in huge spurts. I cleaned him off then stared at the panties that I had laid on the vanity.

Luckily I didn’t think too much about me wearing panties, the fact that Ginger was in heels and I had just had one of the best orgasms, masturbating, that I ever had clouding the situation.

Ginger opened the door and giggled then grabbed my hand and led me back to the bed. The piece of lingerie that I had never seen before was a garter belt, its purpose is to hold the stockings up. I glanced at Ginger, her stockings taunt and glistening in the light, her lacy garter belt peeking out from under her panties.

Panties off for a minute, then I was helped into the garter belt with her showing me how I could clasp it together than swivel it around on my body so the clasp was in the back. Panties back on, the garters now protruding from under the legs of the panties.

I was shown how to roll up the stockings, then she made me put them on myself. I was all thumbs as I attempted the feat. I had watched her when she put hers on, so I eventually did manage to get them up my legs.

Now my mind was being assaulted with so many new wonderful sensations. The stockings had caressed my legs with their silkiness, the panties still having an influence on Junior. I had to have help to get the garters attached, the resulting tightness of the stocking on my legs almost causing another accident.

Before I could put a rational thought together my feet were slipped in to the first high heel, an exact duplicate to the pair Ginger was wearing, although maybe a little larger in size. The second one followed then I was pulled to my feet.

She grabbed both sides of my head, then kissed me passionately, not letting me withdraw from her kiss.

With her arms around me hugging me she explained that she will wear high heels all the time providing I do the same. Time off for bed and baths, but all other times I am to be in my heels. For every pair of heels I now own, you have an identical pair. So the pair I choose for the day is also the pair you will be wearing that day.

The first time I catch you not in your heels, that will be the last time I will ever wear any. I might add that the heels and lingerie came to over four thousand dollars, and I did put it on your credit card.

Don’t get any ideas about returning them since I have conveniently made the receipts unavailable to you. So welcome to the world of stockings and high heels, your new home for the foreseeable future.

I was encouraged to walk around the bedroom getting accustomed to the heels, since you will be wearing them everyday. I immediately thought of work, she just giggled and plastered a smirk on her face. She knew what I was thinking, stating since she was wearing the heels to work there is no reason for me not to do the same.

I was made to walk around the bedroom till I was able to do so with minimum effort. It sure felt different, after a few trips around the room I noticed my gait had shortened and I seem to be swaying my tush as I made my rounds.

After she deemed I was ready for the real world tomorrow we adjoined to the living room for some TV and cuddling.

Nope first I had to learn to sit properly, and cross my legs to keep everything appropriately modest. I was not too concerned about keeping modest since I was planning to wear pants to work tomorrow like I usually do. I did pay attention to the lesson if the need should arise one day.

The evening ended with her attacking me as I slipped off the heels and stockings. This part of her scheme I was all for, hoping my heart and Junior might make it through this scenario. He was soon deflated and obviously pooped as she rolled over to get up and clean herself up in the bathroom.

After my heart returned to a more normal beat, I went to my usual drawer to retrieve a pair of shorts to wear to bed only to find it empty of said items. A plethora of brightly colored pieces of lingerie were there instead, a huge sigh from me and incessant giggling coming from Ginger filling the room.

I wonder when she had time to plan all of this and buy everything that I have been introduced to so far. I was wary of further unknowns, I am sure there will be plenty.

With no other choice I picked out a pair of panties and slipped them on. Goose pimples sprouted on my legs, junior stirring again in his silky nest. Back into bed, as I was apprehended by my wife. I received another passionate kiss but she was soon fast asleep, although she had one arm wrapped around my body pulling me tight to her.

I just laid there trying to figure out what had happened today. I was granted one of my fondest wishes but at a huge price to my masculinity. Wearing high heels every day, all day would cause me many problems, number one being what I could tell people as to why I was wearing them. I doubted I would get much sympathy or understanding if I told them to get my wife to wear heels I also had to wear them.

First I thought of work, probably my biggest challenge. Although I had an office job, the office had several employees, all of us working in close proximity to each other. I am sure my heels will be noticed by many of my fellow employees, if not every one of them.

Again what do I tell them for the reason that I am wearing the heels. Of course, if my supervisor doesn’t approve, what I tell them may become a mute point. Six years at the job, a couple of small promotions and now all of that may be at risk.

Is having Ginger in heels worth all of that, Well junior had to get his three cents worth expressed, a familiar swelling meant it was all worth it, even if I go down in flames. Should be quite a fire though.

I did eventually drift off to a troubled sleep, the alarm the next morning put a stop to my weird dream, but signaled a start to an ominous day for me.

Ginger watched as I dressed myself, since she had gotten up earlier to put on her clothes. I looked first at the heels on her feet, then let out a huge sigh. Yep she is very wicked, her feet in even a taller pair of heels, these must be at least five inches high. They had an ankle strap and another strap across the vamp of the shoe.

A fresh pair of panties after the garter belt was put on, then stockings like the day before were slid up my legs. Once I was dressed, with her playful help she buckled the ankle strap around my leg, then attached a small lock to the end of the strap.

Before I could complain she did the same for her shoes, laying the keys for the locks on her vanity. I knew then I had a way out of wearing the heels all day. At lunch I could come home and unlock my heels and then re-lock them before I came home from work.

Well Ginger had guessed that I might try something like that, so once I was dressed in my jeans and shirt she dragged me to her car, telling me she would drop me off at work, then pick me up tonight.

The fact that I had to struggle to get the pants up my leg over the heels quite comical to Ginger. When I started to get the second leg in the pants she came over, slid off my heel after undoing the lock, than pulled the pants up my leg. She slipped the heel back on then smirked as the lock was replaced.

She saw the expression on my face and giggled. I caught a glimpse of our images in the hall mirror as we left, of course Ginger looked awesome, I wanted to spend all day with her, doing all kinds of naughty things. Then my eyes focused on my pants.

The hem of the pants was now five inches above my ankle, the heels and the stockings in plain sight. I smelled a rat, my pants have never been this short on my leg.

I looked over to Ginger, her cute little smirk still plastered on her face. I might have succeeded in getting her to wear heels, but at a considerable cost to my male image.

She did drive me to work, dropped me off right in front of the door then waited till I entered the lobby before she drove off. I made my way to the door, then swallowed hard and entered. The receptionist the first to see me, issuing me a good morning.

Then as she heard my heels on the ceramic tile floor she took a second look at me. I heard a giggle, then she spoke into her intercom telling Cynthia our boss to come up front. I just stood there, no use going to my desk if I am going to be fired right away.

Cynthia showed up, took in my appearance then with a smile on her face led me back to her office. I was shown a chair to sit in and she returned to her seat behind the desk. She waited for me to explain, but I really didn’t know what to say. She asked if this is a one time thing or am I going to be wearing high heels every day.

I cleared my throat, it was suddenly dry and parched, stuttering the words every day. A bigger smile lit up her face and she accessed something on her computer.

She made some notations on whatever she had brought up, then went to another page and hit print. Her printer came to life and soon I was handed a stack of papers labeled female dress code.

She suggested I read it now, and ask any questions that I might have. After you have read the info and asked any questions you need to sign the last page, which is a receipt for the dress code, acknowledging that your further employment depends on you following it to the letter.

This was something I hadn’t expected, so I issued another sigh then started reading the dress code. It was fairly straightforward, covering clothing, heels, stockings, makeup and hair styles. Conduct while dressed that way was also spelled out.

I did read where me wearing some things female and not following the rest of the dress code was not permitted. It was all or nothing, no picking what parts I wished to adhere to.

I was so in shock that I didn’t ask any questions, simply signed the last sheet and got up to go to my desk. I have no idea why I signed the receipt of the dress code, its implications for me very disturbing. Cynthia told me flatly that tomorrow I will be dressed as to the stipulations of the female dress code or I will be let go.

She came around her desk, gave me a huge hug, then addressed me as Miss Walker and suggested that it might be prudent if I get to my desk and start work.

Just like that the matter was settled, much to my dismay. She had mentioned as she handed me a copy of the dress code for reference that I was now a female with the company, and she had changed my name to Dana Walker on my personnel records. In a daze I nodded my head in the affirmative, since Dan Walker was my former male name. She would change it if I came up with another female name I preferred.

I made my way to my desk, none of this is what I imagined would happen when I showed up for work. Once at my desk it seemed to be buried with files and things that I was to work on. Not knowing anything else to do I started my computer and picked a file to start on.

After a while I kind of got lost in the work, at least my mind had forgotten about the heels and my required appearance dressed as a female tomorrow.

I skipped lunch, my appetite gone since I was still concerned about tomorrow. I did have to use the bathroom twice, the first time there was no one in the men’s room so I had no trouble. The second time Cynthia was headed in the same direction as I was. I headed for the men’s room door but she grabbed my hand and led me into the ladies bathroom. I tried to resist but in five inch heels I could not get any traction. Once inside she pointed to a stall, then waited until I entered.

Once finished I waited hoping Cynthia would return to her office, I didn’t hear anybody so I came out to find Cynthia waiting for me.

She suggested that I get used to using the ladies bathroom, since females are strictly prohibited from being in the men’s room. Since you are a female now as far as the company is concerned, that means the ladies room is your one and only option.

I did make it through the day, successfully finishing the majority of the work on my desk. As I was getting ready to leave Cynthia appeared at my office door. She looked at my desk, raised an eyebrow, then stated that me getting put into heels was maybe the best thing to happen to you. Imagine what you can accomplish when you are in a dress. I got hugged, then she swatted my butt as I passed her in the hall.

I turned to say something to her, but instead just stuck out my tongue. She giggled at me, then took a step in my direction and I took off for the lobby.

Since I couldn’t very well run in the heels, I walked as fast as I could looking back several times to see if Cynthia was following me. I slowed down as I came into the lobby, then saw Ginger’s car parked outside. I picked up my pace again exiting the front doors and making my way to her car as quickly as I could.

She clicked the locks and I quickly entered sitting my tush on the leather passenger seat. I apparently did not sit properly since Ginger made me get out and try it again. I apparently passed this time, since this time I had sat first then swung my legs into the car.

I looked in her direction seeing her smile, then saw Cynthia approaching the driver’s side of the car. Ginger saw where I was looking, then lowered her window.

Cynthia leaned in and gave Ginger a hug and kiss on the cheek, telling her it has been a long time since she had seen her. My, oh gawd no, caused both of them to look my way, then Cynthia proceeded to tell Ginger what was required of me for tomorrow.

I tried to sink down in the seat, but failed. I decided to step out of the car for a minute, not wanting to hear the exchange between them. Ginger clicking the locks on the door stopped that from happening.

I knew there was a way to open the door from the inside even if the locks had been engaged but could not remember what it was. What I tried obviously not working.

I turned to see what they were talking about, Cynthia telling Ginger what I had to do to be allowed to come to work. Ginger listening to her looking my way often to see my reaction. I know I was bright red, all of this bad enough without Cynthia going over everything with Ginger, every detail covered explicitly. Tomorrow will definitely be a difficult day, the start of many to come apparently.

They exchanged cheek kisses and Ginger drove off. She didn’t say anything but was humming a tune as she drove us home. Once home I headed to the bedroom wanting to shed the heels, Ginger standing in the doorway clearing her throat, made me look her way.

Her shaking her head a clear indication that I was to keep the heels on. She held the keys to the locks in her hand, a smirk plastered on her face. I was dragged back to the kitchen, and shown my part in preparing dinner for us tonight. Ginger did remind me that helping her with the household chores was now included in the deal.

Dinner preparation, laundry, and cleaning the house are to be shared by all individuals wearing heels in the house. Since you are officially a female now at work, that leaves you with no excuses for not sharing in those chores at home.

I had to cut fixings for a salad, then mix a dressing that could be used on it. After we consumed the salad and some small pieces of meat, I cleared the table and then washed the dishes as she dried them and put them up. I guess it wasn’t all that bad, sitting for a short time helped with the discomfort of the heels.

Ginger was determined to get full use of her scheme, since she kept her heels on as we watched some chick flick on TV.

With the movie over we headed up to our bedroom, a little earlier than usual, Ginger telling me we had to try on my clothes for tomorrow before we slipped into bed.

She was definitely having fun with this, going through the selection of clothes purchased for me, finding the shortest, frilliest dress she could find for me.

Apparently along with the heels and requisite lingerie she had purchased numerous female outer garments, dresses, skirts, and blouses now very visible in my closet.

The dress selected for me ended up being a figure hugging mini dress, coming to only mid thigh on me. The skirt was tight, so I would be even more hindered in my attempts at walking.

The worst part was the scoop neckline, requiring me to shave the hair off my chest. Ginger took her time performing that function for me, playing with my nipples much more than necessary. Finally finishing washing my body she washed my hair, and applied some conditioner to it before she stepped out of the tub.

I felt ridiculous as I patted myself dry, my former male looking body now looking very un-masculine.

Ginger was standing there with a comb in her one hand and a curler in the other. I expressed the biggest sigh in the history of mankind, but it did me no good. I was shown to her vanity chair and she soon had my hair in curlers.

She did tell me that I had an appointment at her salon after work tomorrow to correct the hair situation and add the proper body enhancements to comply with the dress code.

I started to say something several times, but Ginger just placed a finger on my lips and suggested that since I had gotten my gender changed at work there is no other choice for me now.

All of this just because I like to see Ginger wearing heels. I was ravaged as soon as we slipped into bed, the curlers although very noticeable and uncomfortable, did not stop my enjoyment of her actions.

I did have a few sudden realizations as I laid there trying to get to sleep, mainly that to wear a dress tomorrow probably requiring a bra and the necessary fillers to make me look like a female.

I doubted I would look anything like a male before all of this is over, if indeed there could be a return to a male appearance.

Right at this moment that return to the male appearance seemed very doubtful, working as a female, dressed as a female and considered a female as far as work is concerned casting quite a bit of doubt as to any possible return to my former male image.

Up earlier than usual, then having to wear what was laid out for me to wear today, took considerable time. I did have to don a bra, Ginger smiling as she added breast forms to the empty cups. A slip to make the dress lay right then the dress. I just stood there the feeling of all the clothes having quite an effect on me.

Ginger grabbing my hand to lead me to her vanity did cause me to become more aware of the situation I was in now. Ginger took out the curlers and styled my hair into a curly bob. Mascara and some lipstick were added, the minimum for adhering to the dress code and I was again dropped off at work.

Talk about a fish out of water, that is how I felt this morning. The heels affecting my gait, the skirt restricting it further and my curly hair bouncing around my ears made life very different.

I did make it to my desk, then Cynthia appeared to check on my compliance to the dress code. I apparently passed, but barely, as she handed me a piece of paper noting things that still needed to be addressed to be fully compliant with the female dress code. I was told she would allow one more day to correct the deficiencies since I had made an effort, but no more.

After she left I immersed myself in my work, not wanting to see what else I still had to do to keep my job. All of this so that I could see Ginger wearing heels,

I am not sure it is all worth it anymore. In the next hour my workload seemed to double as everyone dropped work on my desk to be done. I did manage to get it all done by quitting time, but I sacrificed lunch and one break in the process of getting it handled.

Oh, since the skirt was a little tight on me this morning, missing a lunch surely will help in fitting into my clothes better. I was so happy to leave work, the day while not the worst seemed to last forever.

The work finding its way to my desk that day seemed to multiply as every other employee seemed happy to shove some of their work my way. The male employees the worst offenders.

Then we have the frequent trips to the ladies restroom that were necessary. I know now that I need to curb my liquid intake until after lunch to be able to survive.

The clothes that I had to remove, then the act of sitting to pee and then putting all of the clothes back in place more than frustrating.

I was thrilled to see Ginger waiting for me outside the front door, an end to a frustrating day. Just think I have many more of these days to look forward to.

She stopped on the way home to get us a salad to nibble on, then drove me straight to her beauty salon. The Turnabout Gurl Salon was her destination, loaded with customers even this late.

I was dragged in and then taken to one of their treatment rooms near the back of the salon. Ginger helped in removing my clothes, then watched as the tech assigned to work on me laid me on a table and placed my feet in stirrups.

Several more of their techs showed up, each lady working on a different part of my body. Junior was glued back between my legs and a silicone covering glued over the area. Now my groin looked exactly like Gingers.

Breast forms were glued to my chest, way too large in my opinion, but no body asked me what size I wanted or needed. The edges of the forms were blended in to my natural skin, the end result a very realistic looking bust.

My hair was washed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. Curlers again, then a stint under a hair dryer to set the curl. Later after the curlers were removed there was no doubt about the gender of the person underneath the new hairstyle.

Quite a noticeable difference between what Ginger did to my hair this morning and the hairstyle I now sported.

My eyebrows were thinned considerably and some semi permanent makeup applied, making it easier for me to get ready for work every morning. It would make it easier every morning, but my image during the day and evening would be always female, pretty and sexy.

Nail polish for my fingernails with a promise to handle my toenails along with extensions for my fingernails on my next appointment. Can’t forget my ears, now pierced with a dangling earring of pearls in each ear.

As Ginger paid and led me to her car, the few glimpses of my image in a mirror showed a female that would easily conform to the female dress code.

Another dress for my next day at work, along with earrings, nail polish and now carrying a purse everywhere I go. Cynthia was happy with my compliance to the dress code, she also complimented me on my energetic outlook on my work.

I had completed all of my work for two days in a row, the fact that it is twice what I was usually assigned a plus for me.

Ginger was still applying the locks to my heels, so slipping them off during the day for a little relief was not to be. That evening when we were getting ready for bed, I slipped off my heels and headed to the bathroom.

It didn’t take but a few steps to find me on my toes, the pain if I tried to walk with my feet flat to the floor unbearable. Once back in bed she showed me a pair of high heel mules she had purchased for just this type of scenario.

I was then told I would no longer be able to wear any shoe without a heel for the rest of my life. I laid awake for quite a while while my mind tried to embrace that fact.

Now dressing as a female and wearing heels every day seems to be my future, my years as a male and husband now apparently over. Ginger prefers the term live in companion, a more politically correct phrase than husband. I do get to see Ginger in heels now, but the cost to my persona was maybe a bit extreme.

Junior still gets stimulated quite often, just not the regular male female way. Ginger has perfected her technique, the end result is both of us having to head to the bathroom to clean up after a play period. Ginger always allowing me to go first.

Trying to stop the dripping from my vagina as I tip toe to the bathroom quite a daunting feat. Her giggling as I make my way there an extra bit of entertainment for her most evenings. Since she likes to play around almost every evening, the consumption of tampons at our house has doubled. I do enjoy the intimacy with Ginger, just not fond of the clean up after.

It wasn’t but a couple of weeks later when Ginger and I were out shopping after a long day at work when I spotted a gorgeous pair of heels in a store window. Ginger saw what caught my attention telling me to go ahead and buy a pair for myself, but don’t forget a pair in the proper size for her.

Assimilated by my fascination with heels, I love wearing the heels now, knowing I am not dressed properly until I don my heels.

Over the years we have amassed quite a selection of heels, numbering in the hundreds. From kitten heels to stilettos to fetish heels, a heel for any occasion. I am definitely addicted to wearing them, even to walk down to the mail box to retrieve the mail a necessity for me now.

The real reason for wearing them is how they make our legs look, to show them off properly we have also obtained quite a few mini dresses, allowing our legs, heels and stockings to be seen in all their splendor. Yes, equality in heels is my motto for this gurl, one that I have learned to love and enjoy.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Donna, Paybacks Can Be So Difficult

I had built my realty business up from a single office to well over three hundred offices, now I needed to sell the business or find some investors badly before I had to declare bankruptcy.

The recent downturn in the economy had hit my company hard, causing me to curtail activities severely. It had not reached the point of laying off personnel yet, but another couple of weeks without an infusion of money would make that a necessity.

Selling the company was definitely a possibility. It wasn’t because I wanted to sell it, quite the opposite. To keep it a viable business I had to get some cash infusion, either by selling the whole business or some part of it.

The economic downturn and the resulting loss of so many jobs took away all of the expendable money our prospective customers had, making them stay in their existing homes and not trying to upgrade. Business transfers were non-existent since companies were laying off people by the hundreds.

If anybody had some equity in their home, they were stupid to move or sell, the resulting situation far worse than the original. Mobile home sales were up, since that is all most people could afford if they were moving away from renting. Even apartment complexes were having trouble, several of them having to greatly reduce their rents to keep their occupancy at the break even point.

I should have cut back sooner, when I first noticed the change in the market, but I wrongly guessed that it might bounce back. Instead it bounced farther down, but now I had less capital to weather the storm. I had even contacted an accountant, concerning filing bankruptcy, something I dreaded doing, but the only way to salvage anything from the company.

We talked about many different solutions as she filled me in on what was possible and the side effects of going that route. My accountant and I explored every possible option making sure we had not overlooked a possible solution to my problems.

My accountant mentioned an investor that she had done some work for in the past that might be interested in acquiring a share of the company, so I asked her to contact that person and arrange a meeting. A one in a million possibility but worth the gamble, at least, that was my thinking.

Let’s face it I was becoming desperate. I had mulled over every conceivable solution, finding fault with most of them. If I went to a bank the first time they looked at the books, would be the last time I would be considered. Too much payroll for the amount of cash coming in would be the first statement out of their loan officer’s mouth.

If I started laying off people right and left to make it feasible to continue, the rumors would start and soon my few good people would be seeking employment elsewhere before the company closed its doors. I knew of a friend who did that to try and salvage his business, it was liquidated in bankruptcy a few months later.

Imagine my surprise when Rebecca showed up at the arranged meeting a week later. The meeting was to be in my office, at ten A.M. I almost swallowed my tongue when she walked into my office. She sported a huge smile on her face, apparently she knew who she was meeting, while I was left in the dark. Maybe for the better, no telling what I would have done if I knew she was the possible investor.

Rebecca and I dated in college, back when I thought more of myself than I do now. Let’s face it I thought I was hot stuff and deserved any and all attention. The cockiness of my college years got knocked out of me by real life.
Unfortunately, when Rebecca decided to date someone else I made quite a stink, both with her and her intended. It even made the college paper, not front page but still predominantly displayed for all to see.
Back then Don was fairly arrogant, his opinion of himself quite different from anybody else. Unfortunately, I was that male named Don, college age, but still a teenager in maturity.

Rebecca’s and my relationship wasn’t the only one I fouled up; I managed to poison most of my family too, a sister the only one to come around later in life. By the time I had finished college I had lost all of my friends, either by pissing them off or by them avoiding me, my reputation preceding me.

When I saw her I figured the arranged meeting was a waste as our parting of the ways had been rather hostile, mainly because of my big mouth. She was cordial, which surprised me greatly. We discussed the company, she looked over the P and L statements carefully, then looked at the organizational chart for the company, showing managers and employees at each branch. We discussed her investment and how the ownership would be divided.

We agreed on a tentative purchase agreement, dependent on her accountants going over the financial details of the company. Rebecca would have a fifty-one percent share in the company, although I would continue to run the company. Truthfully I was in shock, surely this can’t be the same Rebecca that I had jumped on back in college.

As we got ready to break up the meeting, she asked if I would join her for lunch. That was even a bigger surprise, since I was sure she would want nothing to do with me. I agreed and we drove her car to a restaurant just down the street. I figured the lunch wouldn’t last long and I could walk back to the office afterward. As she drove there, she asked how I have been doing other than the business.

“I’m about the same as before, too busy with the business to date, and recently worried how I’d be able to salvage it” I replied. I thought about stretching the truth some, but decided to just be truthful and let whatever came to be just happen.

As we pulled into the parking lot I asked about her. We went into the restaurant and were seated over in a corner before we could resume the conversation. It turned out that she was doing pretty good, owning six businesses now, none of which had been affected by the downturn so far. When she heard about my company looking for an investor she was definitely interested.

She was looking for new commercial locations for several of her businesses, so a real estate company might be the perfect solution to attain these properties and also manage the locations she currently owned or leased. Some three hundred properties across several southern states in her present inventory of real estate.

It seemed that many of my offices are in the right areas to be of service to her. I was a little shocked to learn that she had a bigger business presence than myself. I knew she was smart, one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place back in college. Her success pointed to something else, being smart and developing a huge business presence do not necessarily go hand in hand.

We took a couple of minutes to order our lunches, then resumed our discussion. So far it had been cordial but strained, at least on my part. I expected fireworks at almost any minute; surely she couldn’t have forgotten our conflict back in college?

The meal was served, we nibbled making small talk in between. She picked up the check, but wanted to talk a little more before we left. I forced myself to swallow what was obviously stuck in my throat, since I feared what was next was the hard pill I might be forced to take.

“I’ve had my accountants already check out your company, so that’s just a formality. The deal is satisfactory for me as it stands, with a couple of minor revisions, both of these will have to be inserted into the contract.”
She continued as I listened, “I want you to continue to run your company with my guidance, since I will now have a 51 % interest. The next condition I’m sure you will not like but it’s non-negotiable. I’m sure you remember our parting during college. Well, I was greatly embarrassed by your actions towards me and my intended boyfriend. He left me soon afterward, the press and the talk on campus convincing him that a relationship with me was not worth it.”

I tried to apologize to her, since my actions were wrong and mean. I was ignored and when I finally shut up she continued.

“I eventually recovered; maybe what you did caused me to work harder to excel. The loss of the boyfriend may not have been such a bad thing if his later activities are anything to go by.”

“Anyway I did manage to make something of myself, but vowed to make you understand how much you hurt me, how you humiliated me in front of my friends and family, so here it is. The second condition of the deal is that you will perform your duties as CEO of your company as a female, that is as a complete female. Maybe then you will better understand how your words hurt me so bad. I want you humiliated just like I was, and not just for the short term.”

I looked at her, my mouth open wide, not a word possible to escape its depths. Up to that moment I never realized what I had done to her, how much I had hurt her. I just sat there running all of this through my mind. If I said no, I would probably lose my company, but worst still it would be my failure as a business manager, making getting a job afterwards very difficult no matter what the reasons for the failure.

I listened as she said, “As a female you will be faced with the hardships most women have to go through to be able to do the same things as a man. I intend to make the transformation known to all, for all to see that you no longer are a male, now just a lowly female doing the work, but not getting the rewards usually accorded to a male.

You will still have enough money to live a comfortable life, but not what you are presently pulling as a salary. After a couple of years we will talk about it again, so there is still a small hope for you to return to the masculine lifestyle. Now do you want life as a female or do you want to declare bankruptcy and take your chances on a future clouded with past failures?”

She knew she had me over a barrel; if I declared bankruptcy all that I had invested in the company over the years would be lost, a quite sizable sum of money. In the few moments that I had a chance to think about it, I figured me as a female would be ludicrous, the new persona more of an embarrassment to the company than to me. At that point I figured she would end the charade and let me return to my masculinity.

I therefore relented and told her the terms were acceptable. She smiled and held her phone towards me, making me repeat my acceptance of her terms. Next, stating that I wanted to be a woman in the job, I had to plead with her to allow that request. I am sure when she revealed all, that last video would be played in its entirety, putting all the desire for this to happen on my shoulders, leaving her blameless. I almost choked on the words, something I never foresaw saying to anybody, much less Rebecca.

“I intend for you to be a girly gurl, wearing only the frilliest of clothes, date men, join all the ladies organizations, everything that a female wanting to advance would do. I want you networking with other females, helping them in exchange for their help as you try and run the business. I am sure that I will get enough satisfaction at knowing how humiliating this will be for you, a proper payback for your behavior towards me in the past.”

I saw something in you years ago, and now I want to see if that surfaces again. We can sign the deal tomorrow; I’ll transfer the funds needed to keep your business afloat that same day. It’ll be yours to run as you see fit, though I want to be consulted on any major decisions.

Your transformation appointment is this weekend, Saturday at seven AM. They’ll have you looking female before the weekend is over, so you’ll be able to start work Monday morning as your new self. Plan on staying at the salon; this particular one has accommodations for its customers and I’ll be there Sunday at five to pick you up and take you home. There is still some compassion towards you left in me, but I need to see you feel what I felt before anything can be rectified.”

She got up, paid the check and walked out. I noticed she didn’t even look back to see how I was taking the revelation. Badly if my facial expression is any measure of my mental state.

My mind had shut down, too much that I didn’t have any idea about, much less what to do about it. Oh shit, I thought, what have I got myself into? Don’t answer that, I couldn’t even fathom all of the ramifications of such an arrangement.

I walked slowly back to the office thinking of how this was going to work out, and what I would be facing in the next few days. I decided business first; sign the deal and correct the few things that need immediate attention. I needed to go ahead and make some changes, streamlining the offices a little more, keeping the expenses more in line with the income we were receiving.

I made notes on what Rebecca might need as we took over managing her properties, also getting several of my agents looking for possible properties for her businesses, especially those that are favorably priced.

I walked home that night, a distance of a little over two miles. The weather was good, and I needed the time to think things through. I almost walked by my abode the first time, looking up to see that I was already well past my residence.

Arriving home, I really didn’t come to any conclusions, but I did consider several possible ways for me to cope with this. Time would tell which one I would choose and if the decision was the right one. It was quite a decision, one that will have far reaching effects, no matter what way I approach it.

I tried to zone out, forgetting what awaits me on the weekend. I cleaned the house some, made myself a snack, and then watched some TV. My mind wasn’t on the TV though. I hadn’t the slightest idea what shows I watched that night. It was just noise in the room filling in the otherwise quiet house. I ended up falling asleep in the chair I am sitting in, then rudely awakened when the TV went off making that buzzing sound it makes when there is no reception.

I flipped it off, carried my dishes to the kitchen, and then staggered to the bedroom. It was like I was in a bad dream, one that I couldn’t wake up from. Half of my mind seems to be on vacation and the other half doesn’t have a clue to what is going on.

Before I fell asleep, a notion entered my mind and a smile appeared on my face for an instant, then rational thought took over and I doubted I could pull it off, much less have the nerve to try it.

Apparently what little sleep I got was very restless, waking up with my sheets wrapped tightly around my body. It took me several minutes to extricate myself from them. When I reached the bathroom, I had only moments to spare as I quickly settled on the toilet. The notion from last night made another brief appearance, but getting to work took precedent.

Since I had walked home I had to walk back, since my car was still at the offices. I needed the time to think last night, the walk this morning proving that it wasn’t that smart of an idea. Considering how little I accomplished last night as to what I was going to do, it was time wasted and only made this morning much harder to deal with.

As I entered the real estate office, there was not much said; I presume the rumor that I had sold part of the business to keep it viable had made its rounds already. When I got to my office that is the first task. I sent an email to everyone notifying them of the changes, the proposed closing of the deal today and the changes that will affect everyone. On a whim I inserted in the email that there would be some changes in management, that announcement going out in the next day or two.

I had everything set up when Rebecca came in at eleven. The contracts were written up, I had sent her attorney a copy and I had forwarded a copy to mine. All of the specifications she wanted were clearly stated, no legal mumbo jumbo, and ready on my desk for her to sign. She read over them carefully again, but did tell me that her attorney could find no fault with them.

My attorney thought I was nuts, especially her two clauses, but I assured him they were fine with me, an explanation to follow later for me accepting them, an explanation he definitely was looking forward to hearing.

After signing them, she showed me a deposit slip from my bank where the money had been deposited. I made copies of everything, every piece of paper, the deposit slip, then shoved one more piece for her to sign. I told her it was just between her and me, a simple statement that my portraying a female was her condition for the deal to be put together. She gave me a look, but signed it anyway, I made a copy for her, and put the original in my wallet.

As she got up ready to leave, I asked her if I could move up the salon appointment some, I need a little practice if I am going to look business professional for work next week. I got another stare, this time a more deeply evolved one, trying to see what my game was. She didn’t find the answer she was looking for, telling me to call Dallas at this number and handing me a salon business card. As she was leaving. I immediately went to the phone to make the call.

I dialed the number and then asked to speak to Dallas. There was a short wait and then she answered. I told her who I was and would like to move up my appointment from this weekend. She suggested that I come in now, we could talk, and while I was on my way to the salon she would look to see what vacancies are available.

The drive to the salon is about thirty minutes, with me arriving shortly after noon. The meeting and signing this morning had taken very little time so I had a little extra time that was not expected.

We greeted each other in front of the salon at their reception desk and I was taken to an office in the back. I told her what the situation was, and what I wanted to do. She told me that they took the appointment, but do not perform their services when revenge is involved. My Saturday appointment was based on my consenting to the procedures willingly and signing an agreement to that effect. I had a lot more respect for the business after she revealed those conditions.

I reiterated what I wanted and why, I did abuse Rebecca greatly, hurt her more than I wished. Maybe if I go overboard on this, her mind will see that justice had been done and we can get back to a civil relationship. I doubted it could ever be close again and having any kind of love in this scenario is probably absurd.

It turned out Rebecca had insisted on some feminizing treatments but not the full feminine experience. I would no doubt look feminine, but maybe not totally passable. If I was going to have to run the business as a female I wanted the full package. That was relayed to Dallas and she made the changes necessary.

Dallas quizzed me several times, making sure that I had thought this through. Then she made me sign an agreement stating what I wanted and the reasons for wanting it.

“When do you want to start? I have an appointment right now, you will be female in looks before eight tonight, then some classes to make sure you can handle the day to day about being female tomorrow morning.” I agreed and soon Jessica was leading me away.

On the way to the treatment room, I had several second thoughts, but knew in my heart that I needed to put them aside and square things with Rebecca, or at least try to get things back to a normal relationship. Just considering those thoughts I realized how far this had progressed. I was going full female and expecting to pass as one, even though I am a male and lived as one for quite a few years.

I did manage to call my office, telling my secretary about my appointment and that I wouldn’t be in till tomorrow noon at the earliest. I got some giggling, her demanding a picture tonight so she would be able to recognize me tomorrow when I came in.

Since she had written up several of the agreements she knew what was involved and what I was doing at the salon. She was having way too much fun at this but I consented to the picture, better to get over her laughing fit now rather that tomorrow in front of the whole office.

From what Dallas showed me, I would be 100 % female in looks and somewhat female mentally. Adding boobs and a vagina plus long curly hair, and smooth hair free skin did make the former male think and act differently.

I swallowed hard, the moment is here as I was led into the room and told to strip off my clothes. Just think tonight my clothes will be something different, maybe I can get an outfit in apple green, a favorite color of mine. It is surprising what inane thoughts the mind thinks up when it is approaching insanity.

Jessica had a different time frame in mind for me, within thirty minutes I was hair free, a cream left on my skin for a short time and then wiped off left me bereft of any follicular development.

Another painful twenty minutes and my eyebrows were nearly eliminated, no cream this time a pair of tweezers and soon there was a thin high arched line above each eye, but in bright light it was hardly visible. They were left that way so that I would have a template to pencil in my eyebrows to go by. Each change so far affecting my looks quite dramatically. The eyebrows, or lack of, left my face decidedly feminine.

Next slipped into a funny looking chair similar to a dentist’s chair and leaned back. My head now over a sink, with just my neck and lower hairline supported by something. Then I felt my feet being lifted into some form of support and then spread wide apart. My arms finding their way to the arms of the chair and secured.

I started to say something, this is moving faster than I had in mind, but a mouthpiece slid into my mouth, for the purpose of whitening my teeth made speech difficult. Oh well the sooner it is over with, the better. To think that a former male could even think those words. I relaxed my head some, then felt the warn water flowing over my hair.

At the same time someone moved between my legs and started moving my male member around, a cooling spray landing on the area and then no feeling down there. I felt two objects being set on my chest, apparently glued to my chest since I could feel a cool adhesive as it was smoothed on. Then a pump started, causing some of my flesh to be sucked into the object.

The shampoo on my hair smelled good, lathered up twice and then rinsed. Then again with a different smelling product. Well, that pretty much fuddled my mind, too many things being done at once, my whole system not capable of handling any of them.

I awoke later, a cool washcloth laid over my eyes, the feeling quite soothing. As I came aware of what is happening, the pump is still doing its thing and there seems to be nobody between my legs as I felt nothing down there. My legs are still anchored to the stirrups, so it is not possible to close my knees, even though my body was wanting to perform that action. My head is wrapped in something, I can’t tell what, and the feeling of something happening is now coming from my hands.

I can’t move them even my fingers seem to be not movable. I concentrate and then feel something being applied to each finger. This continues until each finger is covered.

Than a sudden thought became clear in my mind, the chair I am in is like a gynecologist chair used for a female pelvic examination and my feet are in stirrups. How did this happen to me, did I actually agree to all of this? I wonder what they are doing to me, maybe I won’t have to worry about Rebecca getting her revenge, I may have unwittingly done it for her. I took some deep breaths, I did ask for the full experience, and that is apparently what I am getting.

My mind quickly scanning the documents that I had signed earlier to see if this is part of the deal. No conclusion there, for one thing I don’t remember what was stated on those documents. I was just wanting to get this over with and as soon as possible. From what I can see and feel it is over with, my masculinity now gone.

The treatments continued, my ears are now pierced, twice in each ear. Other than the sharp pinch, I felt nothing until an earring is inserted in the holes. Apparently the bottom hole holds a dangly earring, the end of it brushing against my neck.

They came back to work on my hair again, now a foul smelling liquid applied to my hair, roots first, then covered with a plastic bag. The treatment lasted for about a half hour, since they are no clocks and the cool cloth over my eyes, it is strictly a guess on my part.

The bag is removed from my hair and then rinsed again. The upper part of the chair is raised some, leaving me almost sitting up. My hair is set in curlers, it seemed to be hundreds of them, but I am sure there were not that many. Then a dryer is wheeled over and placed over my head, the warm air feeling good for once.

I could see some now, the cloth had slipped down my face, leaving one eye open.

The cups on my chest are about half full, breasts are now a part of my life apparently. I didn’t even think of how or if they could be removed since they are being sucked from my body. I did get a glance when Jessica moved out of the way, to sneak a peek at my groin, now only seeing a female sex there instead. Some few quick breaths, holding the last one till things calmed down some.

My eyes now focused on my nails, they now sported extensions on each finger sticking out at least a half inch past my fingertips. The bright burgundy red polish making them quite visible.

There was no mirror to see what had been done with my hair, but I had a feeling that it was no longer the light brown it once was. Jessica worked on my eyebrows; I was sure she had jerked them all out earlier, but apparently there were still a few left, too many apparently in her opinion.

I tried to prepare myself for the unveiling, I am sure from the way that I feel, that the change will be drastic. To have all traces of your masculinity removed, it would be a shock to anyone.

I sure hope that this is not all in vain, maybe Rebecca can see that I am trying hard, and cut me a little slack. Then if I have done all of this already, there probably is not any slack left to cut.

They did my makeup as the new breast tissue stabilized. The hoses had been removed from the machine, the cups however were still attached to my chest filled with my skin and tissue. There will not be anybody mistaking me for a male after this, the new protrusions from my chest quite significant.

After an hour of conversation with Jessica as she did my makeup, she informed me that the cups would dissolve themselves in two to three days, even now I would find them to be more flexible and jiggly.

The mirror that I was able to see my image in gave me quite a surprise. Now a light blond and immaculate makeup, with a thin high arch in my eyebrows, earrings now dangling at my sides. Jessica checked the dryness of my hair, then started removing the curlers. Once they were removed she brushed the style up, pinning the majority of my hair on top of my head. Since I had a larger than normal head, she assured me that this hairstyle would be perfect for me. It would look quite feminine and make my head appear smaller than it was.

I wondered if I would be able to duplicate it, the changes guarantying me more than a few weeks in this new body. She pinned the larger curls in place, then put hairspray on the smaller tendrils of hair peeking out from the head of curls. The hairstyle only added to the female look, no one is going to see a male when looking at me. I did manage to get a picture of me to Ginger, the two word reply from her just said no way.

I was offered a chance to stay the night, but I felt it better to return to the office and face the music, then return tomorrow to get training in acting the female part. The salon had bettered the eight o’clock estimated finish time as I was in my car a little after four-thirty.

I am sure Jessica was motivated since there was absolutely no masculine features left on my body. The outfit I was given to wear home assured the feminine look, an ivory business suit with a pencil skirt, very business professional and according to Jessica also very cute.

I drove back to the office, walking right in and to my private office. I know there were several onlookers, but I decided it better to get to my office then send out an email explaining my changes and the reasons for it.

My secretary, Ginger, was first to notice and first to invade my office to see the changes. Her face lit up with a big smile giving everything away. She had added the clauses to the contract, so had an idea about what was to come.

“Would you prefer Ms. or Miss? I think Donna would be appropriate, but all of this is up to you.

When I first got the picture I thought you were trying to pull a fast one, but seeing you in person you are truly beautiful. You look good, maybe even better than you were as a male. I can’t wait until our first conference call!”

I was given a hug, a warm and tender greeting that was held longer than usual, as I pulled away I saw a tear in Ginger’s eye, hard to see clearly since my right eye had also teared up.

“I am drafting an email now about the changes, as soon as I have it done you need to send it to all the offices. Also a copy to Rebecca. In fact, with any management decisions or discussions in the future, a copy needs to be forwarded to her. This is to make her aware of all that we are doing.”

I worked on the email, the correct wording took a while, but eventually I achieved what I wanted. The email stated.

Effective today Don Rasmussen as CEO is no longer with the company. Donna Rasmussen has assumed leadership of the company, and I trust you will support her as you have Don in the past. The decision to present as female is mine, one that has taken years to embrace. The company now has a new influx of money, so worries about our future should ease.

Since the economy has shown a lot of instability, I have invoked a lot of cost cutting measures to insure that we keep an edge over our competition. Any discussion regarding the company or my presentation can be addressed to me by phone, email or in person. I will answer all in a timely manner. Thank you in advance for your support.

Sincerely, Donna Rasmussen CEO of D&R Realty.

P.S. Just a reminder, there will be a video conference call three days from now at ten AM. All associates of this company will be required to participate. No excuses allowed.

As I handed the email to Ginger, I asked her to change our stationery to read Donna Rebecca Realty instead of D&R Realty. When the time comes we can have the signs changed to reflect the new name. By then maybe the economic conditions might be a little more favorable. The email went out that afternoon late, I doubted I would hear anything until the morning. I said goodnight to Ginger and went home.

A few minutes after arriving home I received a call from Rebecca. She had received my email, wanting to know if we might have dinner together tonight.

“You just want to see what I look like, so let’s get it over with. Italiana Ristorante at eight, if that is alright?” She giggled, “That will be fine.”

I didn’t have any other clothes yet, so I went as dressed. I did repair my lipstick, as the salon had provided me with one to do repairs. I emptied my wallet into the makeup bag, and headed to the restaurant. Rebecca was waiting by the door and I walked right past her. I turned around and asked “Was she just going to just stand there and stare, or are we going to eat dinner tonight?”

She followed me and the hostess to a table on the patio, the weather nice, the patio was perfect for our dinner. Nothing was said for a while as she checked me out. Believe me there wasn’t much she missed, from my hair to my toes a careful inspection of all things feminine.

I could see the smile hidden in her face, she was doing everything she could to suppress it. I asked her what she wanted to drink, then signaled the waitress to come over. Our orders were taken, the drinks came soon after and then we were left in peace as they prepared our food. Nothing here was pre made, everything from scratch, so waiting for forty minutes to be served is not unheard of.

“You have surprised me, moving up the appointment, coming clean with your company, showing up as a female the first day” she stated. “I think I might have under estimated you a little.” I smiled, it seems my plan is working some already.

“I still have a long way to go, my wardrobe consists of only what I am wearing so some shopping is a necessity. Maybe tomorrow, after my female training and if all goes well, I can get started on my new wardrobe.

On a side note, I am sure I will have a reaction to my email, not everyone will be happy with my decision. That will help in my cost cutting decisions, maybe a little shakeup will be good for everybody.” I told her that she would receive copies of all email with regards to any business decision. Also I asked that she include herself in any video conference calls we had.”

She tried to decline all the inclusions, but I insisted. “For you to get satisfaction you have to see the interaction between me and my employees.”

She smiled. “I have definitely under estimated you, this ought to be interesting.” We chit chatted after finishing the dinner, but nothing more was said about my appearance. I hugged her and told her I would see her at the next video conference in three days. We departed and I made my way home.

Life as a female at home is not what I expected. Getting out of all the clothes is one thing, but slipping into the nightie that was furnished is another level of pleasure entirely. It took me forever to get my makeup cleaned off, the nightie sliding over my body as I moved my arms kept me in perpetual turmoil. Trying to sleep with boobs is another feat, finally I lay exasperated flat on my back as any other position pinched or squashed my new appendages. I did finally fall asleep, not a restful sleep, but sleep none the less.

I went back to the salon the next day, where I was put through my paces. Tall heels, up and down stairs, and at least thirty trips around the salon to get used to walking the way a woman does. Shorter steps, one foot in front of the other, and heel first were stressed to me. The gal that was overseeing my learning to do a female walk was serious, constantly on me about doing it the way she showed me and not my interpretation of what she said.

It did take me the thirty trips to finally get it right though, well let’s just say better than previous attempts and apparently good enough for my drill sergeant’s approval.

We moved to makeup next, they would show me how to put it on, then have me clean it off and do it myself. This went on for several hours, each time I improved, in fact I thought I was doing quite well at applying the makeup.

Next was some lessons in deportment, how to sit, what to do with my legs and feet, where to hold my hands, all the things that a female learns over time, that I had a few hours this morning to learn.

She spent some time showing me how to reproduce my hairstyle, suggesting twice a week appointments to keep the foundation there so that I could just brush it and apply a little hairspray to coax it back into the style.

My voice is next, if I kept it a little higher than a whisper it didn’t cause any alarms. That wouldn’t do in the long run, so Jessica sprayed my throat with a spray that tightened my vocal cords causing a little higher voice.

That turned out to be the better option, I sounded female, and could talk in a normal volume. The spray was good for several months, continued use of it would keep the vocal chords tight and eventually no more applications of the spray would be necessary. Not sure about the future with my voice, I liked the new feminine voice, but kept remembering that I was a male underneath all of this and that voice is definitely not appropriate for a male.

The last three hours of the day was spent in their clothing boutique, learning what went together, what my colors were and picking a basic wardrobe for me in the coming weeks. I chose to stay with dresses and skirts, thinking that would please Rebecca the most. I also found that the dresses in particular were the most comfortable to me, hence that is what I mainly chose to wear.

Heading home that night my back seat of the car was laden with bags. I now had my new wardrobe, most of it business professional. Lingerie was included, after trying on some things I opted for a corset, its firm grip on my body comforting to me. Nothing extreme, the corset I chose taking three inches off my waist. The bras were lacy, and underwired, I liked the look they provided, but knew I would be ready to shed them once I got home from a day at work. For panties I chose a myriad of styles and colors, their hugging my new figure and my obvious flat front a noticeable difference from before.

It is surprising that very little thought of my missing male appendage appeared in my mind. I really didn’t miss it, it was never a favorite before, I never masturbated much, and dating was a joke. After I started the business it occupied most of my time and thoughts. The college macho jerk mentality faded from existence, too busy trying to make a go of the business.

It took me several hours to put everything away, while taking all of my male clothes and packing them up. My closet was almost full, although I knew I still had to get some evening wear, for parties and social functions.

Later that night lying in bed, I decided to give them to a charity that decision seemed to support my feeling that my transformation would be around for quite some time. I should be anxious to return to the male self, but I had a feeling deep down inside that would not be happening for quite some time, if ever.

I was not sure that Rebecca would ever be convinced that the humiliation was enough, but I presume I could get used to living this way. My hope was that Rebecca and I would not continue to be hostile towards each other, maybe even friends at some point. It was quite a wish, but you never know these days what wishes might get granted.

I never did get the negative reaction I was expecting from my staff and employees, even the first video conference as a female was tame. I had made an announcement in front of all the associates about my reason for changing genders. I also stressed that the company would be run tighter now, things not totally necessary eliminated. I mentioned about the new properties we would be helping manage and the need to find similar properties at reasonable prices for expansion.

After the video conference, I received emails from every branch complimenting me on my appearance and offering me their undivided support in anything I might want to pursue. The next few days were unusual, dressing as a female every day takes a little getting used to. I remembered that I had promised to get active in woman’s organizations, so I asked Ginger to gather meeting times and membership requirements.

Two days later I had my first luncheon of a women’s civic organization. I was greeted warmly by their current president and sat at their table. I didn’t want any trouble later so I was blunt about my current sex, my reason for the change, and my genuine interest in their organization and their goals.

They had no idea about me, surprised to say the least. They did listen, asked a few questions of me and then voted me as a member. Joyce their president told me of several more groups that I should join. If I wanted, she would contact them on my behalf. I agreed. When the meeting was over Joyce approached me wanting to talk some more.

“Why did you confess your real sex, you look so convincing no one would question you? I respect you for your actions, but wouldn’t it be less humiliating if no one knew your real sex?”

My heart felt response was “Probably less humiliating, but also not the truth. I want to deceive no one, but treasure my time as a female. I am glad you have seen fit to allow me to participate in your organization, maybe I can help in some special ways.”

“Just be aware that with more people knowing about you, that one of them might decide to share your secret with the rest of the world. I will try and make sure it doesn’t happen with my group, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

I looked her in the eyes and said, “If it happens it won’t be the end of the world, I will face up to it and move on. Make sure any referrals you make with me in mind that they know up front my true sex. I won’t have that being withheld from anyone. I do thank you for your kindness and understanding, it is greatly appreciated. I look forward to our time together, helping to advance feminine issues and ideas.”

Work at the office was just as it was before. I did notice that my appearance was looked at every day, there was some talk among the ladies, but later Ginger told me they were just complimenting me on my style, wondering where I learned about the things that I was doing now every day.

The relationship between Ginger and me, however, only got better. She second guessed me on most matters, when I would tell her something I wanted done, I found out she had already started on it or was able to hand me the finished reports or pertinent email.

The financial reports of the company improved quite a bit every week. My cutbacks had helped considerably, and the new business that Rebecca brought to us helped our bottom line. We found several properties that she liked, so they were purchased and added to our management portfolio.

I visited three more women’s organizations, attended their meetings, and was warmly welcomed to their groups. All three I joined, after making sure they knew all about me. I was appointed to a couple of committees for these groups, and helped all I could. In all the participation in the women’s organizations, Rebecca was kept abreast of all my meetings and involvement.

Joining the organizations also turned out good for business, more customers and leads for others. Quite often I would get a phone call from one of the ladies wanting some service or referring someone to me wanting to buy or sell some property.

About the third week into my transformation, Ginger notified me that a reporter for the local paper wanted to do a story on me and my company. She told me the reporter’s name, that she seemed fair and caring. The articles she wrote were seldom vicious, just a statement of facts and feelings. I was a little leery of this, now my transformation would be known to all, as soon as the article was published.

The dressing and acting as a female was comfortable now, still not used to it, but not something that I feared or shied away from. I did all my personal shopping as usual, almost all in dresses or skirts. So far I was not singled out or had inappropriate remarks made to me. I shopped twice a week for groceries, ate out once a week, and usually shopped for clothes during the week whenever a sale was announced.

As a former male, dressing and living as a female and automatically indulging in the feminine past time of shopping was definitely not the usual fare. It was fun, experiences that I had never indulged in that were enjoyable to me now.

The interview would complete the humiliation of Don, the whole town would now be aware of my dressing and acting as a female. Rebecca should be pleased. Recently, she has been quiet, never responding to my numerous emails. I allowed Ginger to make an appointment for the interview, then told her I needed my appointment at the salon to be moved up a day or two. If I was going to do this I wanted to look my best. Her giggle conveyed amusement that I thought I needed to look especially good for my interview.

She however suggested that it be held at the office, rather than any other venue, in case there was any problems. A few minutes later I found out that I had an appointment first thing in the morning at the salon, and the interview with the reporter shortly after lunch at one thirty. I had Ginger email Rebecca about the interview, telling her that her attendance is mandatory. I didn’t want her to hear about it from someone else, I wanted her to hear what is said first hand.

I had made an outline of what should be covered in the interview and sent it to the reporter. Doing that I hoped that it would eliminate some surprises in the interview, since she would know what I expected to be covered in the session. I asked Ginger if she could think of anything else that should be done.

A big smile coming over her face as she thought for a minute, then mouthed dress shopping. It was decided that I had to have just the right outfit, most likely a dress to make an impression and also for the picture that would be taken for the newspaper.

Ginger was caught up, so I asked her to go with me dress shopping. She jumped up and attacked me, heading me towards the office door, anxious to find that special dress. She suggested the salon’s boutique, since they carried a full line of business clothing for the professional woman. The short drive was made as we discussed the interview and what its effect would be on the company. Ginger was pretty sure that there would be no impact on the company, my image and reputation would be the only things affected.

If I came off as a modern professional business woman just doing her job as a company CEO, my history should have very little bearing on my current status. It might be noted in the interview, but my appearance and what decisions I have made would be considered more pertinent. How right she was.

We looked at every dress they had in the boutique, finally settling on three to try on. Our first choice turned out to be the one we bought. I even got a thirty percent discount because I was a regular customer of the salon. It was a classic LBD in design, a scoop neckline, mid-thigh in length and a fitted skirt.

The color was not the typical black, but a dark burgundy with some lace accents around the neckline and at the end of the three-quarter length sleeve. We found a pair of burgundy pumps with a five inch heel that looked good with the dress. They even had the black lace trim around the top part of the shoe making them a perfect match to the dress. Classy but still within the parameters of business professional.

I dropped Ginger off at the office, checked my email, and then headed home. There was an email from Rebecca, her only comment was am I sure about the interview?

My one word reply, ‘yes’. She did indicate she would be there, so that part of the grand plan was in place. I hoped that any hostility between us would vanish after the interview tomorrow. I would be out to everyone, performing my job as a female, leaving nothing for Rebecca to add to my humiliation.

Then I remembered her wish for me to date a male, just like a typical female would do. I set there trying to figure out who I could get to ask me out that wouldn’t cause even more problems.

I didn’t want to go the bar route, I am not interested in finding a mate, just a date to satisfy the contract clauses. I had discussed it with Ginger, she suggested my attorney, a friend for several years and unmarried. We could discuss the business, instead of kissing and groping. That last stated with a giggle. I called Bob, asked how he was doing, everything but what I originally made the call about. I think he figured there was something I wanted, so he told me to just spit it out.

“As I am sure you remember the clauses in the contract, I need a date with you as part of the clauses in the contract. I know this is unusual, but can you make an exception and take me out?”

There was silence for several minutes, I figured he was thinking about it, so I let the silence reign. Finally he made a reply.

“I will go out with you on one condition, well actually several conditions. First, it is to be a real date, both dinner and dancing or a movie. Second, you will have to be dressed to the nines, I have an image to protect and I can’t be seen with just anyone. Third, I get a kiss at the end of the evening, no negotiating on this one. If you do all of this I will be glad to take you out, my treat. Tomorrow evening at eight P.M. be ready.”

No asking if that time was okay with me, just be ready.

I listened to the dial tone, he actually hung up on me, then I smiled, he treated me just like a female, one of his dates. We had talked about his dating over the years, although it was a male discussing it with a male at the time. He was an eligible bachelor and he knew it. He had yet to find someone to his liking, so they were only one time happenings. He had always been confident in his dealings whether with the law or with a date. The difference was he was confident not arrogant like I was in college.

Waking up to my big day, in more ways than you know. I grabbed a snack of an orange, got dressed in my sweats and with my dress in a garment bag along with my lingerie I headed to the salon. Jessica was ready for me, today nothing new to be done, just check to make sure everything was feminine and I was at my prettiest.

Of course, my legs needed a touch up to get rid of the little peach fuzz found thereon. Several hairs of my eyebrows had to be removed, plus the wash and set I received every time I came in.

A professional makeup job, although I was fast approaching that level myself when I get dressed each day. Let’s not forget a manicure, fresh polish to go with the dress. Looking in the mirror, I didn’t see any problems so I picked up my purse and drove back to the office.

I was early, but the reporter and her photographer were already there. He got the photographs he wanted and went back to their office. Stephanie and I sat and talked in the office about her career, while we were waiting for Rebecca. She had made her way up through the ranks, nothing given to her without her earning it.

Rebecca finally made it and we started the interview. Most of her questions were what I had submitted or re-worded versions of them. I answered truthfully, telling her that I have felt this way for years, now the time had come for me to make the first step. Steph asked if this in any way made me feel humiliated, a normal male for twenty plus years just up and deciding to be a female for the rest of her life.

I looked at Rebecca, then smiled telling Stephanie that fate deals us a hand sometimes; what we have done in the past comes back forcing oneself to try and rectify that past deed or situation.

This is one of those times. I am proud to be a member of the female sex now, proud to live my remaining years as a female, and trying hard to rectify some errors of judgment made in the past. I may never be able to repair the damage done, but at least I have made the effort.” Luckily Steph did not pursue that line of questioning, the interview ended shortly thereafter.

We shook hands, hugged and said our goodbyes. Steph said she would email a copy of the article to me as soon as she is finished with it. She assured me I would like it. That said with quite a smile. Ginger had recorded the interview just to be on the safe side, in case what was said was questioned. She went back to her desk, leaving Rebecca and me in the office.

Rebecca had set on the couch when she came in, so she patted the cushion next to her wanting me to come sit next to her. As I set she took my hand, holding it between her hands.

“That went well Donna, you handled it very professionally, a credit to your gender. You have proven to me that the Don I used to know no longer exists. I release you from all the provisions of the contract that I had forced on you. I would like to take you to dinner tonight if you will permit it. A thank you for how you have handled everything so far.”

With a giggle and a smile, I told her that, “Tomorrow might be better, for tonight I have a date, one that I had to almost beg for.” She gave me such a look, then broke out in laughter. “You mean you actually are going to date a man, who is this guy?”

“My lawyer, is the lucky male, the only one that I thought I could get to ask me out, but he had conditions and now I have to abide by them. I have to dress up fancy, go dancing with him after dinner and give him a kiss at the end of the evening.”

Rebecca just hee-hawed, enough so that Ginger came back into the office to see what the commotion was all about. Ginger watched for a minute then returned to her desk, after reminding me that I needed a dress for this evenings date.

Rebecca asked if she could help, either with the dress or my date. She volunteered to call him, informing him of my preferences, just to make sure the date was enjoyable for me.

To her surprise, I told her, “That would be fine, that way Bob will know what he is getting tonight from one that had dated me before.” Rebecca rose from the couch, hugged me and gave me a sensuous kiss.

“You just wait till tomorrow night, there will be no question after our date who you will want to spend the rest of your life with.” Another quick peck and she was gone.

Now what did that mean, was she interested in me still? Maybe it is just the clothes, or the body, even if I am naked there would be no doubt about my gender. I thought Rebecca was straight, she always dated males in college, in fact as far as I know she didn’t even have a roommate during college.

Ginger came in smiling, now you will need two dresses and another appointment at the salon for tomorrow. I asked her what she thought about Rebecca’s comment, but her only remark is wait until tomorrow and that will be cleared up.

Ginger had some work to do so she called the boutique and told them what I needed and they would have some things picked out for me to choose from. Besides she wanted to be there when the email came from Stephanie, about the interview. She promised to send me a copy when it arrived.

I grabbed my purse, such a feminine thing to do, but I found it ingrained in me already. A lot of things that I have been doing these last few days have stuck with me, now I am doing them without even thinking about it. Among other things I regularly checked my makeup, reapplying it as needed.

I drove over to the boutique, walked in and was immediately led back to the back. Two racks were waiting for me in one of their dressing rooms, loaded with possible choices. I picked one of their selections out and took a look at it and immediately put it back on the rack. I am sure there would be very little not visible while I was in that dress. It was lacy with a sheer matching panel, very provocative and way too sexy to wear on a date. Continuing to look through the rack I tried on several, I looked good in them but for some reason they just didn’t seem right.

On the second rack another sexy dress made its appearance. It did have solid material, not see through like the other dress, but its problem was it covered so little of my body. I bulged out the top of the dress, the pencil skirt of the dress barely covering my panties.

The associate helping me suggested thong panties and a special bra that would lift and enhance my natural bust line. I almost broke out laughing at that comment, my natural bust line, sucked from my body and definitely not natural for a male. I tried on a couple more dresses, but those two kept coming back to haunt me. I asked the associate to get me the proper undergarments for both dresses and ring me up.

For tonight’s date I decided on the short one, sure to please Bob, maybe I can get some free legal work in the future in exchange for my date tonight. Business always comes first. I hope my look is satisfactory for his image, can’t have his image ruined by some normal looking female, even if she is a CEO.

I made my way home, the job the salon had done on me this morning left me very little to do other than redo my lipstick. I changed undergarments the bra lifting and separating my breasts. In the dress they looked like they were going to spill out at any moment. The panties that went with the outfit were very brief, the associate called them bikini panties.

After getting the dress on, I tried three times to get it to cover more of my thigh, all three attempts failed miserably. I doubted my sanity when I thought that this dress was the proper choice for tonight. I knew it looked good on me, but the fact that I couldn’t set down in it without my panties showing made it very unpractical. I tried crossing my legs, it did help, but was very uncomfortable. Not that it pinched anything, there was nothing in the way any more, just a flat front with an inviting slit.

Bob was on time, I grabbed a shawl and my purse and we were on our way. He was very gracious, complimenting me on my looks, getting the car door for me, pulling out my chair at the restaurant and all the other things a proper gentleman does for his date. He had his arm on me the whole time, leading me to the table, to his car, then back to his car after the restaurant.

He took me to the fanciest dance club in town, and we danced every dance for three hours. I did get a respite from time to time for a drink, but then back to the dancing. He was an excellent dancer, both in the faster dances and in the slow romantic ones. I gave in after the first slow dance and held him close with my head on his shoulder. His only comment was, “It is about time.”

All in all it was an incredible evening, fun and exciting. The whole time I was a female, both in body and mind, Don never appeared in any way. I think that evening I had decided to stay a female from now on, the feelings just too nice to ignore. I enjoyed my date with Bob, even the kiss was sensual and lasted far longer than I anticipated, but I doubt I will try and convince him to be my boyfriend.

At home after I had undressed and slipped into a nightie, I made myself a cup of hot chocolate, and went to my bedroom to try and put some things in perspective. I had a love seat over by the patio doors leading out to a balcony, so I set down and stared out at the night sky. There were no clouds tonight, the myriad of twinkling stars the only thing visible in the dark sky.

Lots of thoughts ran through my mind that night, most of them should have never entered my mind. They were all about me being a female now, the pleasure I was getting dressed as one, my date with Bob and my utter acceptance of my modified female body as being right for me.

I thought of the interview today and reached over to turn my phone back on. I had turned it off to preserve my sanity, it is enough just to be dating a male, much less dealing with any other matters.

I looked at the messages and sure enough a message from Ginger with the interview attached to it. I read it on my phone, too comfortable to get up and access it with my laptop. I read through it twice, it actually was quite complimentary, mentioning my desire to fulfill a lifelong wish, and the professional manner that I handled it with regards to the business and my employees. She covered all the points that I desired to be mentioned, dealing with each one in a concise manner. She even mentioned my partner Rebecca in the article, but not any comment or reaction from her.

I looked further down the list of messages, finding one only a few minutes ago from Rebecca. I read it three times, so surprised at its contents. She was pleased with the interview, hoped that I had a good time with Bob, and wanted to be sure I would be at the office early, she had found a perfect dress for me, hoping that I would wear it tomorrow for her. I replied that I would, and thanked her for her generosity. I wondered what she had in mind, she already knew I had a dress purchased for our date, another dress now was a little unusual.

I sat there for quite some time staring at the stars, even noticing a couple of shooting stars, I made a separate wish on each star. Finally the hot chocolate had done its thing with me yawning and now ready for bed. In bed I slid under the covers, pulled the comforter up over my shoulders and quickly lost my battle to stay awake.

The next thing I remembered was my alarm going off the next morning, I felt too comfortable under the covers so I resisted until it had rang for the third time, an hour after I should have got up.

Soon, thereafter, I received a call from Ginger wondering if I was coming in today. I told her I would be there soon, just don’t hold her breath. She giggled, but pointed out that I had missed Rebecca and I should come in fairly quickly to get a look at the dress that she had left for me. I tried to pry more info, but she said the only way to appreciate it was to be standing and looking at it.

I visualized lots of things over the next few minutes as I tried to find appropriate clothing and make myself presentable. From some designer original to some gaudy bright color monstrosity ran though my feeble mind.

It took me more than an hour to get to the office, went directly in and noticed the dress hanging on the back of my closet door. I sat down hard in my chair, just mesmerized by what I was looking at. Ginger was right behind me, watching as my eyes were transfixed on the dress.

“Rebecca expects me to wear that dress on our dinner date; I doubt I will fit into it, but even if I did, to wear it in public is probably against the law!” I told Ginger. If none of the other things humiliated me, this dress will definitely finish me off.

Ginger suggested that I remove my clothes and attempt to get into the dress, then go from there. When she removed the dress from the garment bag, she discovered a wicked looking corset, one that would support my breasts and end about mid-thigh.

As she laid it on my desk she giggled, “I can’t wait to see you in this corset, and if I can get it cinched up, you are going to be so feminine. From the looks of the dress you will have to be in the corset for the dress to fit properly.”

We attempted the corset first, it required both sets of hands to get it around me and the busk fastened. The she started tightening the laces. Just fastened around me the corset took off inches, each subsequent tightening of the laces took another inch off my middle section. I noticed my breasts swelling up a little, not connecting the corset and the swelling of my breasts until a few minutes later. The tissue that was being squeezed was forced to either swell up my breasts or fatten my hips.

Ginger stopped several times holding the dress up against me to judge whether she had to take more off. But the smile never came off her face, to her this was fun, something she didn’t get a chance to do often. About the fifth time she went up and down the laces she thought the dress might fit.

She had me step into it, then worked it up over my hips, that alone took twenty minutes to accomplish. Believe me there was not even a quarter inch of space between my skin and the dress. Then came getting the top part of the dress up over my boobs. Another fifteen minutes and she was able to button the back part of the dress closed. Instead of a zipper, they had added a multitude of tiny buttons, each one barely fitting through the button hole.

When Ginger had fastened the last one she smiled and scooted the free standing mirror over in front of me. It had been purchased so that the new female in the office could see if her presentation was adequate before venturing out. I tried to move a little to see the side and rear of the dress, but found my movements very restricted. Ginger saw what I was doing, but suggested that fewer movements was better, because if I attempted too much movement, I would likely be exposing myself quite a bit.

My bulging breasts were barely contained in the top, the nipples just barely below the edge of the bodice. The dress looked like it had been sprayed on me, not a wrinkle or fold visible anywhere you look. I tried to move forward, but a two inch forward movement was all that I could manage. My arms still had mobility, but hardly anything else. The image in the mirror was pure erotic, a gorgeous female poured into her dress. Rebecca has to be nuts, I can hardly move how am I going to be able to go on a date with her?

I asked Ginger to get her on the phone for me, I desperately needed to talk to her about this. I tried to sit, that was impossible, then I tried to maneuver around the office some, I made it a foot or two before Ginger told me to pick up line two. I had to lean back towards my desk to pick up the phone and was appalled as one of my breasts fell out of the cup of the corset. When Ginger came back into the office to see why I hadn’t answered the phone she burst into laughter.

Meanwhile, I was trying to talk to Rebecca. I could tell Rebecca was smirking, she had to be knowing what I was calling her about. She asked if I was in the dress yet. Sarcastically, I told her “yes I am in it.”

“Donna you must calm down, I am sure you look fantastic in the dress, I will pick you up at the office at six” she said. Then the bitch hung up on me. I was mad until I realized the situation I found myself in. I started to giggle, I could try to laugh but I doubted I could get enough of a breath to do so.

Eleven in the morning, I would be trapped in the dress for hours before she picked me up. I took too long to get into the dress, I was not going to go through it again for the date. Then Ginger walked in with the shoes that went with the dress.

I let out a quite audible sigh, they were very tall with only a strap above the toes and a very thin strap around the ankle. My toes and three quarters of my foot will be on display, my ankles arched severely up because of the five inch plus heel height.

It was mid afternoon before I was able to sit in my desk chair. Either the dress was stretching or my body was adapting to the corset. As I sat I felt it would split wide open revealing me in my sexy corset. All I managed that day was a few phone calls, my predicament excluding any other activities. It seemed that the time was dragging along at a snail’s pace. I swear the seven hours until she picked me up was more like fifteen!

Right before Ginger left for the day, she had me try walking in the dress. I was able to manage a fast shuffle, gaining about six inches with each step. It was very fortunate that I had not eaten or drank much liquid, as it would be impossible to be able to use the ladies room without spending hours doing so. I took me five minutes to get to the bathroom so I could replenish my lipstick and check my makeup.

Rebecca finally made it at ten after six with her chauffeur alongside her. I was kissed and hugged then she pulled back to appraise the dress. She reached over to the desk to retrieve my purse and then Stefan came over and picked me up slinging me over his shoulder to take me to the limo. I protested for a minute but then realized it was by far the better way to get down eight floors and through a hundred feet of lobby.

Set back down on my feet outside the limo, I slid in and Rebecca joined me. All the time I was trying to get my boobs back inside the dress. When I was lifted onto his shoulder both breasts slid out of the cups dangling between me and his shoulder. I was bright red, a most embarrassing situation for a female much less a former male.

She was dressed in a very feminine pant suit, in two shades of brown. Her hair was in a braid, and she wore minimal makeup. Apparently I was the female tonight, her pantsuit the only feminine thing she wore. No jewelry either, I had only the studs in my ears so far. I said so far, because there was a jewelry box on the back of the next seat.

When we reached the restaurant, Stefan parked around the corner and Rebecca opened the box and removed the contents. She removed my studs, inserting the two chandelier earrings in their place, I presume they were real diamonds by the brilliance and the name on the jewelry box. That name, the premiere jewelry store in the state, most of their pieces sold in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars. Quite often they advertised that if you had to ask the price this was not where you needed to shop.

I felt them sway against my neck and then the sight of the necklace took my breath away. It had multi strands of smaller diamonds along a gold chain that was exquisite. The detail was precise and miniature, the combined look of the chains made the necklace look fabulous. She attached it around my neck with a click, then added one more thing to my jewelry for the night.

A gorgeous engagement ring was slid on my finger, perfectly sized and absolutely brilliant. The one large stone, quite sparkly, the surrounding smaller stones situated to make the larger stone stand out.

I started to protest, but her finger on my lips stopped that. “Wear them tonight, enjoy the evening and when we get back to my place later we will talk.” Suddenly, I realized how deep I was into this,

Rebecca still cared for me, from what she has done tonight, that attraction appeared to be quite strong. The jewelry alone an indication of her affection for me. An engagement ring no less, jewelry that is real and quite expensive were those not just given to friends or business partners.

I had misjudged her and thought my treatment of her in college had ruined any chance of a romantic relationship. Instead my recent actions has seemed to make her forget those acts of humiliation that I had made her suffer through. I am sure she is still having fun with me, this dress a prime example. The jewelry though shows something else at work here.

The driver pulled up to the restaurant since I was now bejeweled appropriately. OMG was the only sounds that emerged from my mouth. The fanciest restaurant in town, reservations taken months in advance just to sit at the lower levels of the establishment. The driver came around to the door, opened it for me and helped me out. I kept a wary eye on him, fearful that I would be toted off again. He did the same with Rebecca when she took my arm and led me to the front doors.

My steps were slow, the dress just not letting any kind of normal movement to occur. The Maitre’D recognized her and we were led off to an elevator and then up to the third floor balcony. Our chairs were held for us and before we got situated in them wine was being served.

I took it that Rebecca had ordered everything in advance since we were never asked our preferences. The food was excellent, cooked to perfection and seasoned perfectly. There was a band on the lower level, playing during our dinner. Rebecca asked me to dance when a slow number was being played, probably the only thing I could dance to in this dress.

I was pulled tightly in an embrace, her arms around me and my head laying on her shoulder. For some unknown reason six straight slow numbers were played in a row; she never allowed me out of her embrace. Actually, I was quite comfortable there not wanting to be any place else. We stayed for three hours, taking about trivial things, the weather, the food, the band, anything but what we were feeling. We danced several more times that evening, a most enjoyable occurrence.

Finally it was time to go, we made it back to the limo and then back to her home. It was a gorgeous house, several years old and quite beautiful. It was not ostentatious, just a typical upper crust family home. The grounds were well manicured, making the house fit in well into the suburban neighborhood.

The driver got our doors after parking in the drive, just outside of the garage. Me first, then Rebecca, I had relaxed my guard some, so when I found myself being put on his shoulder for the trip to the front door it was another surprise. Of course, I was not sure if I was more embarrassed by his action or my red face and shoulders.

He carried me all the way into the living room where he set me down on my feet, and tipped his hat to me. I am not sure what the proper protocol is but I thanked him anyway, still red faced and a little wobbly on my feet. First action was needing to get my erstwhile breasts back in the dress again.

Rebecca joined me giggling, her apparent enjoyment at my expense was quite satisfying to her. She made her way to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of wine. She told me to sit on the couch and parked her behind right next to me, and I do mean right next to me. She poured me a glass of wine, then her one and we toasted. “To things that are important in life” she said to me as we looked into each other’s eyes.

I sipped my wine, wondering where all of this is going. I felt helpless in the dress tonight, but other than a few words I was not teased about it or humiliated because I was wearing it. We had a nice time, I enjoy her company immensely, just wished that I hadn’t ruined things in the years past. She put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer till my head was on her shoulder. She tilted her head down and I received my first kiss of the evening. It was not overly passionate, but it did convey her feelings for me.

We set there for at least an hour, sipping wine and nibbling on each other. “What are your plans for the future,” she asked? I was not sure how to answer, I had made some changes recently in my personal plans, but not sure how Rebecca might respond to them.

From her actions tonight she has apparently forgave me some, but still what I had decided to do was maybe further than she might be comfortable with. I decided to tell her exactly what I intended to do, it either would be alright with her or any chance of a relationship would be lost.

My reply was, “I have decided to stay as a female if my business partner will allow it. The changes I have experienced have so enhanced my life that I no longer wish to live as a male. I enjoy the camaraderie between females, the clothes, even the makeup. If I still have a job, I would like to live out the rest of my life as a female.”

She had set her wine glass down on the coffee table, then used both of her hands to move my face directly in front of her. She kissed me passionately, trying to meld her lips to mine leaving me breathless.

I never did hear a response to my question the kiss went on and on, with only a break to take in additional air. I was pulled closer to her our upper bodies pushed together squashing our breasts against each other, the heat from our bodies warming the air all around us. Her response to my question was in the form of another question.

“Can I go with you to your home and help throw out all of your male clothes. Pretty please?” How can one turn down such a polite request?

We set there for quite some, her arms around me, with my head on her shoulder, there were no words spoken, just two people renewing a relationship. I presume that it was a relationship now, still I considered myself very lucky for her taking me back after all the horrid things I had done to her back in college. A couple of hours later, she dragged me to her bedroom, helped me out of the dress, let me use the bathroom then patted the edge of the bed where she is laying.

As I approached the bed she pointed to a negligee lying there, asking me to slip it on. It was floor length, long sleeve, and absolutely gorgeous. I slipped it over my head, my hands sliding down the sleeves, and the gown’s hem on the floor of the bedroom. It seemed way too big, but the smile on Rebecca’s face said she liked it. She pulled me down next to her, then cuddled up next to me, her arms around my body playing with my breasts.

I was still trying to find the end of the sleeve, to put my hands through it, but her lips on mine, curtailed that action for a moment. She then slid down my body to my ankles, playing with the hem of the negligee. I heard a zipping sound and raised my head to see what she was doing. She returned to my face kissed me again, then reached for my hands. She hooked the two sleeves together and slid her body between my arms so that I was holding her in my arms. She wiggled a little, then laid her head on my chest.

I then discovered that my hands were trapped in the sleeves and my feet were trapped within the negligee.

Rebecca had the biggest smile on her face, little giggles threatening to breakout at any minute. “Now you have to love me, you are trapped in my negligee prison, never to be released until I am pleasured and pleasured well. I do love you, I always have? You tried to ruin things back in college, but I knew that you would come back to me. The events of the last few weeks have been fun, but all I was trying to do is get you to realize what is inside of you, the true Donna, so to speak.”

“I am proud of you, you have finally realized your place in life and owned up to it. I doubt I will let you go back to your home, unless there is something that you just have to bring back here. We can send someone to get rid of your male life, you belong next to me, as my lover, my BFF, my everything. Let’s find someone to take your place at work, you can still go in every once in a while, but I can think of a lot of things to keep you occupied right here at home.”

Except for going to the bathroom I was kept in the negligee for hours, usually in her embrace, a place that I never wanted to leave. It was comfortable, especially when her body was trapped between my arms.

I did all I could to please her, but with me restrained there was not a lot I could do for her. I made sure she was kissed at every opportunity possible. When she slid out from between my trapped arms, I tried to maneuver my face where I could show appropriate attention to her breasts, the low moans I received in return made me feel good that I was making her feel loved.

She, however, was unhindered in her actions, making me twist and turn, to escape her tongue and mouth. Several times I just lay there, pooped from all the exertion, but so happy.

Rebecca eventually wore herself down about four hours after we started. Soon both of us were sleeping a deep and restful sleep. Neither of us had set an alarm, so it was mid-morning before my phone woke us up. Rebecca answered, then held the phone against my ear so I could hear what the caller wanted. Ginger was giggling, knowing that the two of us were together answering some of her questions.

She wanted to know if I was coming in, or if I was preoccupied with an important business meeting. Then the laughing started, Rebecca taking the phone back from my ear. “Yes, it is an important business meeting, requiring both of us to be in attendance. You are quite capable, do what you think is right and after you get off work come by my house. Donna and I have something to discuss with you.”

Ginger started giggling again, then told Rebecca, “If you are offering what I think you are, then I will take it, but allow Donna to come in quite often. Otherwise, I will miss her too much.” Rebecca smiled, then reached over and squeezed my right nipple, causing me to squeal and then started giggling.

“Since the negotiations seem to have begun again,” Ginger said, “have fun, and I will see you all later.”

I never did escape the negligee that day, when Ginger showed up later, I was still in it, and at the mercy of Rebecca. Ginger did check it over thoroughly, squeezing a nipple or two to see if the fabric was restricting movement. We explained to Ginger what we had in mind. For her take control attitude, she was perfect for the job. She had already made some plans, which she ran by us before she left. I did get a kiss before she left, but also asking Rebecca to send me to the office this way, then she could have some fun in the afternoon.

I pouted some, but was enjoying the love of Rebecca, especially when she fed me dinner one bite at a time. When it was time to head off to bed I was finally released from the negligee, I made a point to spend the rest of the evening and most of the night giving Rebecca as good as I had received.

She tried several times to get me to quit, but I feigned a lack of hearing and continued my assault. I gave out at one AM, to a big sigh from Rebecca, but she was awake only minutes thereafter before I heard her breathing slip into a sleepy pattern. I joined her shortly, loving and kissing is such hard work.

Ginger did take over, the business never suffered, her actions prevented any problems from occurring. I did go in every once in a while talking with the associates and Ginger. We got into the habit of a once a week lunch, but business was seldom discussed. Instead we talked about fashions, about men and about Rebecca.

Ginger did capture a heart, Bob the attorney fell for her, and their upcoming wedding was an excuse for me to dress up and have some extra fun. I am to be a bridesmaid, along with Rebecca. Something I am so looking forward to.

We did get married, a quickie trip to Vegas, a wedding chapel marriage and then a honeymoon in Australia. Yes, the negligee was brought along, other than pottie breaks I spent three days locked in its embrace. My nipples were so sore after that, but Rebecca rubbed soothing lotion on them quite often.

I also lost five pounds from the physical exertion and squirming. I was hand fed for those three days, a little wine and not much water. She liked me helpless and dependent on her.

I never did see much of the country, after the three days only an hour or two a day was spent on sightseeing. The rest was spent with me flat on my back. As we were flying back she wanted to know if I felt humiliated enough to make up for what I had done to her in college. I smiled, if she didn’t remember the other incident I was not going to remind her.

To keep busy I went into work, Ginger thrilled to see me. Of course, I had to tell her about the trip, her giggling since I spent the majority of it on my back being ravaged.

I got to see some of my friends at the office, all of them complimenting me on my rosy cheeks and huge smile. The gals all smirking knowing what was really going on, but they were happy for me and even a little envious. That night Rebecca took me out again to eat, at least this time she allowed me to walk into the restaurant, the dress she picked out for me having a generous skirt.

The meal was exquisite, something French, I have no idea what was in it, but it tasted so good. We stayed longer than we should have, talking about everything. The partnership between us was working well, Rebecca’s companies all exceeding their goals, especially the new branches that we had found for her. Our company was also doing well, record profits and several new branches in areas we had never explored before.

It was late when we returned home, nearly two AM. I was undressed, eased into bed and played with until the sun started to show itself over the eastern horizon. I was really out of it, we had finished off two bottles of wine after we got home, so I doubted I was aware of much of anything that morning.

It was mid-morning before I returned to the land of the living, laying in bed going over the past few weeks in my mind. I was more than paid back by Rebecca for my transgressions, as the saying goes, Paybacks are so difficult. How true, but since Rebecca and I are back together both romantically and business wise, the payback is well worth it.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Gloria, What To Do With My Purse

I was setting in the front lobby of my wife’s beauty salon. The Turnabout Gurl Salon recently changed hands, now a prestigious salon that oozes femininity. A typical late Friday afternoon occurrence with me, now something I look forward to since they have changed hands.

The décor has changed, the uniform the stylists wear have been upgraded, and their level of business has doubled. So much to see now, the stylists new dress a work of art. Brief, lacy, form fitting and along with some towering high heels a real sight to take in.
My wife and I were going to dinner, then to a movie later. Since her salon is on the other side of town, near where we usually eat at, this has become a normal Friday afternoon activity. I usually left her at the salon, then spent some time at the mall browsing the stores. That is after I had taken in the sights of the salon, a most fascinating place.

Even when I came back to pick her up, I always arrived early so that I could spend a few more moments observing and watching them perform their miracles. Today however it was pouring down rain so I decided that staying at the salon might be drier, plus a convenient excuse to see more of what happens here.

Mary returned a few minutes later asking me to hold her purse. Now for a normal male holding your significant other’s purse is like a death sentence. I blushed red, as I immediately looked down at my feet. Mary leaned down making me look at her and then kissed me on the lips.

There now all is better, that is what she hoped, but I was still staring at the purse sitting in my lap, its bright pink color like a beacon on a foggy coast. It is patent leather, all shiny with a matching leather strap.

I looked around to see if anybody was looking at me, afraid that everyone would assume the purse is mine. An obvious male in a beauty salon, and with his purse on his lap, no less.

Mary returned to her stylist, I touched the purse trying to see if I moved it to my side would it be less noticeable. Wrong, now it looked like the purse was definitely mine, and not my wife’s. I moved it back and forth several times, trying to find some way to hide it from everyone’s sight.

Finally a lady that was very impressive by her height alone came over and sat next to me. She must have been at least five foot ten inches, but with her heels she was well over six feet. She was gorgeous, hair and makeup immaculate. As she set down next to me she crossed her legs at the knees, making even more of her fantastic legs visible. She reached over to grab my hand, holding it in her hands tenderly.

“I see you are having some difficulty figuring out what to do with your purse. I did not catch your name but I presume you are here with Mary, might I suggest a relaxing manicure for you while you wait. There are no strings attached, and my treat.”

She was holding my hand waiting for me to tell her my name. The name Gregg stumbled out of my mouth, in a voice barely above a whisper. Why is it so hard to talk to this lady?

“Well Gregg, let’s see if we can keep you occupied while your wife gets her hair done.” With that she stood, pulled on my hand and led me back to an office in the back of the salon. I followed, with my wife’s purse in my right hand. As we entered the office she picked up the phone and dialed a number asking the person answering to come to her office for a nail makeover. Before I could respond to the offer I was seated in a comfortable chair, the purse back in my lap.

Kayla, the manicurist, was setting up her tools on a table in front of me, suggesting that I put my purse on a shelf under her table. I managed to get the purse on the shelf, my hand shaking noticeably as I placed it on the shelf.

Why does everyone presume the purse is mine?

My statuesque friend told me she would tell Mary where I was at, not to worry my pretty little head. I tried to speak up again, but she just laid a finger on my lips, telling me to just relax and enjoy the nail makeover. As she walked away, her words about ‘my pretty little head’ were now consuming all of my limited brain resources.

Kayla was fantastic, her massaging of my hands, and then cleaning my nails left me almost ready to drop off. She had filed my nails into neat ovals, since I hate to trim my nails I had let them get much longer than normal. Then she applied a clear coat to each individual nail making them shine.

My hands were placed under a UV light, the heat and light making the polish harden. Then another coat of polish, it looked pinkish, but by then my mind was drowsy, and half asleep. Again under the light, then another coat of the pinkish polish.

By then I was dozing, my head drooped to one side. I was still getting tingly feelings up and down my arms, even though the massage was earlier in the process. It somehow felt so good, the feelings and my half asleep awareness just adding to the situation.

The tall lady returned, picking up one of my hands and inspecting the nails. I became aware of her presence suddenly, my brief nap now over with.

“That is much better, now Mary will be proud to be seen with you. In fact her she comes now.”

It took me a moment or two to fully wake up and be aware of my surroundings, then as I looked down at my nails, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. I opened them again when I didn’t hear any screaming or commotion. I had beautiful nails, very pink and extremely shiny and bright.

After pulling me up from the chair, Mary took her purse, placed it over my shoulder, with my one hand on it to keep it from swinging. Then she locked her arm with my free arm and we walked out of the salon. I was almost to the car when I managed to get a word out. It had stopped raining, although it was still a little windy and much cooler than when we arrived.

“My nails I can’t go out like this, what will people say.”

Mary stopped and faced me, put her face right up next to mine and whispered in my ear.
“They will think the nails are beautiful. Now come on, I don’t want to miss our dinner reservation.”

Mary ended up driving, I was in no condition to handle any kind of equipment, much less drive. I tried to get her to head home, this was too much for me, I was having trouble getting a breath, my heart was racing and my hands were shaking.

When we got to the restaurant Mary told me she would fix things for me, I was expecting that we might forego the dinner, and then head home, instead she reached into my purse and retrieved a lipstick. She then applied lipstick to my lips, then a moment later a second coat.

She then proceeded to drag me out of the car. My purse again placed on my shoulder.
As she clicked the locks on the key chain I was now locked out of the car with no place to go and hide. Since she was in possession of the keys I was stuck. I pleaded with her, but she grabbed my hand and we were soon seated in the restaurant that damn purse of hers still hanging on my shoulder.

Our usual waitress arrived, greeted both of us, then looked at my nails. I had forgotten to keep them out of sight, now she had already seen them and was commenting on how pretty they were.

Of course I was bright red, way too much blood now in the top part of my body. I quickly made a fist trying to hide my decidedly pink nails.

Too late now one of the other waitresses came over wanting to see my nails. Mary pulled my hands up and made me splay them so they could see my nails as both ladies ooh’d and awed. I guess that was what was causing my whole body to tingle, a condition that had never occurred before.

How does a male react to being told his nails are pretty? Probably the same way I did total silence with my eyes locked on a spot on the floor.

I ended up having to tell them where I had them done at, since they asked several times. Mary had to prod me to answer them, the words somehow stuck in my throat. The first waitress wanted to know the name of the polish since she decided she wanted hers done in the same color. I had thought the name of the polish was picturesque, A Pinkish Sunrise At Dawn, I could even picture it in my mind.

When I first became aware of the light pink polish Kayla had told me the name, for some reason it sunk into my befuddled mind. I heard the name and it registered in my mind, but I never considered telling her I didn’t want polish on my nails. At least, one that is so pink and glossy.

That meal was so unreal, the waitress and I carried on a conversation all during the meal, treating me like she usually treats Mary, like a female. Surprisingly the lipstick I was wearing was never commented on, I am sure it would be quite obvious to anyone looking at me.

I did relax some, until someone was looking in my direction. My head swiveling around quite often to see if I was being stared at. I was able to eat some of my dinner, hoping that we would go home instead of to the movies.

Well hoping and what actually happened seemed miles apart today. Since Mary was driving she headed right to the movie theater and parked in their lot. I was shaking my head no, fearing more attention like I received at the restaurant.

We settled on some seats towards the back of the movie theater, it was quiet back here, hardly any people in the theater, those attending mostly setting down front. Mary cuddled up next to me laying my head on her shoulder with her arm around my shoulders pulling me in tighter to her body. It was not lost on me that is the way I often held Mary in the past.

I eventually relaxed some more, even falling asleep during the last few minutes of the movie.

Mary made me drive home, since I had already taken several short naps during the movie and would be well rested. That also meant I had to look at my polished fingernails as I maneuvered the steering wheel. We did make it, although my concentration was not solely on my driving, but on my pretty pink nails gripping the steering wheel.

As we walked into the house I promised myself that I would get an appointment tomorrow to get the polish off, this can’t keep going on. Mary led me into the house and directly to our bedroom where I was quickly undressed. She pushed me back on the bed and lay on top of me. It happened so suddenly that I was giddy with excitement. I actually let out a small giggle,

Mary’s actions definitely turning me on. Right in my line of sight, was my purse on the bed post wrapped around the top ball. I had no idea if I had placed it there or if Mary had something to do with it.

I could swear the purse appeared happy, now that I was more into the role of a female. Imagine a purse seeming to be happy. I know for sure that what little of my mind that was left had stopped functioning.

Mary had done to me what I love to do to her, the circumstances now reversed. I just laid there, closing my eyes and letting my mind wander. I felt her mouth on my lips, her tongue making inroads. Then she attacked my ears and eyes, I have never been kissed on my eyes and ears before, but it is a delightful experience.

I doubted my goose pimples could get any bigger, then a feeling deep inside started to form. It built up and then up some more, threatening to totally wipe out any activity in my mind. A pinch on one of my male nipples, sent me over the top, wave after wave of total bliss cascaded over me leaving me spent and totally incoherent.

I swear if I could utter anything it would just be gibberish. I have never had an orgasm without my male organ being touched, a first for me and thinking back a most delightful experience. I wonder if that makes me less than a male, surely men only have releases when their penis’s are handled or inserted in some type of receptacle. I instantly thought of Mary’s vagina, and of course my little fella responded by starting to get hard, again.

Alas that was not to be, Mary too wrapped up in playing with my nipples and kissing me to pay attention to him.

I was finally let up from the bed, made a mad dash to the bathroom, and tried to relieve my bladder. I also had to deal with a gooey mess in my shorts, quite a combination that required attention. It took me quite a while to relax, then relief as my bladder finally drained. My nails were visible during all of this, every time I moved my hands pretty pink nails came into view. Then I had to retrieve some clean underwear before I could return to bed.

As I made it back to bed I mentioned that I needed to call and get an appointment to get the polish taken off tomorrow, the earlier the better.

She smiled. “That might be kind of difficult, since all of their technicians are booked solid. You got taken care of because someone canceled at the last moment. I can call Kayla tomorrow and see if you were set up with a weekly appointment like most of their customers. If so she can do whatever you like come next Friday. Some longer extensions and a salmon polish might look good on you too. It will help accent your long fingers, making your arms look more feminine.”

“I really enjoyed our dinner and the movie, you were so nice and lovable leaning on me and letting me have my way with you. I am definitely looking forward to next Friday.”

I swallowed hard, how am I going to get out of this without upsetting my wife. We have always got along, but there have been times when harsh words were spoken, causing an icy relationship for several months. All of those times it was my mouth that had iced the waters, I definitely do not need another occurrence.

Mary does have a good memory, sometimes requiring quite a bit of time to forget especially when I had originally committed the error. Maybe I can somehow deal with the nails for a while, not wanting to stir up the waters if I don’t have to.

At least, work should not be a problem since I am self-employed, doing research for professional writers both fiction and scientific. My personal contact with them is sporadic, maybe I can suffer through this for a couple of weeks, then when things have quieted down some, have the polish removed. I know a pipe dream, when things start to go awry, it seems it is all downhill after that.

I never got a chance to put on my pajamas that evening, so I ended up naked in bed except for my boxers, her body right next to me. Oh well, what a husband has to put up with for his wife. A quick glance at my pink nails and I might need to edit the husband part.

I did manage to get some sleep, though Mary had a death grip on my body, cuddled behind me as close as she could get to me with both of her arms around my body pulling me closer to her. Her warm nipples boring holes in my back. I did drift off easily, being held like that quite comforting. Not a position that I had experienced much before.

Saturday was so-so, we did a few chores around the house. I am sure if anybody had seen me out mowing the lawn, with bright shiny pink nails I would be the talk of the neighborhood. I did wear gloves although it was way too hot for them, suffering in the heat to try and keep my nails a secret.

I did get some strange looks, mostly from a few ladies who were out for a walk. Since their eyes were focused on my gloves, I presume that was the reason for the strange looks. It had to be at least ninety in the yard, the sweat rolling off my face and body as I maneuvered the mower around the yard.

Luckily for me, most of the guys were off playing golf, I had seen them loading their golf clubs in their cars earlier. I did get discovered later in the day when Kay one of Mary’s longtime friends came wondering in. Being such good friends they usually just knock then enter each other’s house.

Unfortunately for me I was vacuuming the stairs, a chore I did sometimes for Mary when Kay walked in. She stood there unseen by me watching as I worked. Then she saw my nails and grabbed one of my hands to get a closer look. Once I saw what she was looking at I turned shades of red, hoping the vacuum would suck me up and I would not be left there facing her alone.

Kay has never been shy, as she grabbed my hand and pulled me up and then to the kitchen where Mary was working, leaving the vacuum still running on the stairs. My hand was shoved in front of Mary’s face, then Kay asked her where I had the manicure done at.

That was not the question I was anticipating from her.

They talked about my nails like I was not there, about the color and how much better my nails would look with extensions. Finally she released my hand and I made it back to shut off the vacuum while they were still talking. I wondered back to the kitchen, not wanting to leave the two alone for long when they seemed intent on making plans for me.

Mary had made some tea and placed three cups on the kitchen bar. Kay steered me onto one of the bar stools and we sipped tea and they talked. I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. It was like I was one of them now, a woman talking about things that a female would be interested in.

I heard them calling a name Gloria, then silence. Are they calling me Gloria now, how Gregg can be morphed into Gloria that is definitely one for the experts to figure out. I looked in their direction as Mary is staring at me, trying hard to not break out in a giggling fit. Mary wanted me to go to our bedroom and get my purse and bring it to the kitchen. I started out in that direction, then abruptly stopped.

If I do, Kay will see that I also carry a purse around with me, another validation that suggests that I am less than a male. I looked at my pink nails, then headed to the bedroom to get my purse. Nails with pink polish or a purse, either of them just as condemning as the other. I was asked to get the bottle of polish out and show Kay, now another female wanting to use the same color of polish as I had on my nails. When I returned I got the bottle of polish out and handed it to her.

Kay eventually left, but wanted front row seats next Friday when I come home with the longer extensions that both of them suggested would look great on me. I pleaded with Mary to somehow stop this insanity and cancel my appointment for next Friday. Her only statement was what I will do if you don’t go with me taking your purse. That will mean that I will have to carry one, you know I don’t have one that will match the dress that I am planning to wear, you’re the only one that has a purse that color.

Nope you will have to go, besides too many people want to see you with the extensions and the bright red polish. Somehow the salmon polish that was suggested earlier had been dumped in favor of a bright red polish.

“It will be a perfect match for the purse you know you want to take to the salon. In fact if you want you can borrow my skirt, the red pencil skirt that will complement the purse and tie your whole outfit together.”

I lowered my head, holding it between my hands and let out a huge sigh. I tried to figure out how I ended up in this predicament, that tall lady at the salon was the one that started it. From then on it just seemed to mushroom, now I had serious doubts whether I could stop it.

I guess the polish on the nails kind of grows on you, a quick glance, they do look nice don’t they. Augh… now I am doing it.

I somehow made it through the week, Kay did come over often to keep me company, her words. I think she was just checking to see if I had found some way to remove the polish. I did look once through all of Mary’s things to see if I could find the polish remover I knew she owned, but never did find it.

So the polish remained, a constant reminder of my new status. All week I was treated as a female by Mary, her having her way with me several times. The last time I spurted all over the place when she sucked on my fingers while rubbing my groin. I turned many shades of red at that experience, it was hours before my complexion returned to a somewhat normal color.

I ended up naked most nights, Mary not wanting my old PJ’s on her lover’s body, her words. I did get used to her cuddling me, most nights her warm pointy nipples probing my back. I guess it could be worse, but by the end of the week I was getting too comfortable with the nails and with my new relationship with Mary in bed.

Finally Friday arrived and I managed to get out of the house in my normal clothes, but of course my purse was ever apparent. Today my purse was a red leather bag with a gold chain strap. I did manage to avoid wearing Mary’s skirt that matched the purse I was using, thankfully.

At the salon I was welcomed by the tall lady, who I learned was Francine. The bear hug she greeted me with felt good, as she held on to me for several minutes. Then she took me back to a private room and Kayla was already setting up to do my manicure. I saw some pieces of nails laying on her table, I presume the extensions Mary and Kay were anxious for me to have.

They seemed so long, I swallowed hard, but no excuse came to mind for me to avoid getting them. I turned around to the door to see if Mary had followed us. Maybe if she hasn’t I could make up some kind of excuse for not getting them. Well karma is a bitch, Mary was there smiling holding a bottle of bright red polish that she handed to Kayla. Kayla mentioned that it was a new gel polish, semi-permanent after it is applied.

A bigger smile lit up Mary’s face, I quietly sat down in the chair, waiting for my manicure. I have to figure out what I did wrong, this is just getting worse by the minute. My karma must be nil right now that is if I had any to start with. With the things that have happened so far I doubt there was any karma involved to start with, my account now probably overdrawn.

It took Kayla over two hours to add the extensions and the five coats of polish, each coat of polish baked under a UV light to make it harden. At each coat I felt my small amount of masculinity slipping away a little further. My hands looked so feminine, even in male clothes my gender would be in doubt. The extensions extended past my fingertips by at least three quarters of an inch, making doing anything with my hands very difficult. It was ironic that the only thing it did not affect was me slipping the purse strap over my shoulder when we left.

I had given up on calling it Mary’s purse, since I carried it around more than she did. It was my purse, whenever the two of us went anywhere as it was on my shoulder. I even had different ones to use when what I wore required a different color to coordinate. At all times my ID and wallet were in the purse along with Mary’s. Even two tubes of lipstick, although I managed to escape wearing mine most of the time.

Francine examined my nail job as we were checking out, a bigger smile could not be etched on her face. She had the receptionist add to my appointment next week a full body wax, my arm hair especially distracting to my appearance. I started to say something, but thought better of it. With my karma this bad, I would probably end up with boobs and arched eyebrows to go along with the waxed arms.

I was woman-handled again as soon as we got home, at least I didn’t have to suffer through dinner and a movie. Undressed and laid back on the bed and that was where I stayed for the next three hours. We took showers together, then I was cuddled in bed, her holding me tightly against her. At least, that part was welcome. I dozed off right away, a sound sleep dreaming of my first makeover with cosmetics and a pair of heels. Oh well, an over active imagination does have to be put up with.

By the time of my next appointment Mary had bought me four new purses, each one filling a need for matching a color of clothes that I wore. I had also been out dressed in one of her skirts, a maneuver she managed one afternoon.

Around the house she had gotten me to wear one of her skirts. Before you ask yes panties underneath. Boxers are just so gross with a fitted skirt. Anyway she comes rushing in from work, wanting me to get my purse, she needs a business suit for tomorrow, a surprise meeting of her company’s board of directors and she is going to be making one of the presentations to the board.

Of course, I am happy for her she has worked hard these last few years to make inroads at her work. Now it looks like all her hard work was starting to pay off.

Anyway after getting my purse we got in the car and were off to the mall. Mary drove knowing where she wanted to shop at. We parked next to the mall entrance closest to her destination.

It was as we were walking into the store, a few stores from the mall entrance we parked at, that I realized I was still in a skirt. I applied the brakes, a problem when Mary is holding my other hand. She turned abruptly looking my way wanting to know what the problem was.

I pointed to my skirt, the red already engulfing my face. Mary’s solution was for me to open my purse and take out my lipstick. I did and was holding it in my hand, not really wanting to apply it right in the middle of the mall. But if I waited for Mary to apply it, it would probably be worse since other women usually do not apply their girlfriend’s lipstick.

Oh gawd, I am now considering the relationship between Mary and I as girlfriends.
I applied it, not sure it would show up much against my already red face. I put the tube back in my purse and was led into the store. An hour later we had found a business suit with the cutest pencil skirt for Mary, its light tan color looking good with her complexion. The skirt’s hem was inches above her knees, just right to accent and flatter her gorgeous legs.

Unfortunately, Mary also found some clothes for me. Once she had handled her pressing need, she turned her attention to me. I tried to dissuade her, but the smile she had plastered on her face as she held one garment after another up against me, persuaded me to keep quiet and let her have her fun.

Her items came to about two hundred and fifty dollars, whereas mine was almost five hundred dollars. To top it off I had to pay with my charge card, taken from my purse. The card with my male name emblazoned on it. I resolved to straighten things out tonight once we got home and had eaten. As fast as this is escalating no telling what condition I will be in a few months.

On the way home Mary stopped for some carry-out. No problem for her, send in her girlfriend with the purse to retrieve the meal. So with the food in hand I made my way back to the car. I got a kiss for my efforts, it was definitely a kiss to remember, I swear my lips were hot after the encounter, not warm but steaming hot. Who knew a kiss could last that long? We eventually made it home, but the food did have to be warmed up some to be eaten.

We finished the goodies, then cleaned up some. I grabbed Mary’s hand and led her to the living room. I parked her butt on the sofa and sat right next to her, holding both of her hands so she could not make an escape. She giggled, took you long enough to build up the nerve to corner me about the purse thing. I was hushed when I tried to state my opinion on the matter.

“Let’s just cut to the crux of the problem. You are and have been envious of me and my femininity. The way you look at my clothing, the sighs that accompany those looks are most pathetic.

Even Francine at the salon saw it when you used to drop me off or come to pick me up. She observed that longing to be dressed as some of the other women or have a pretty hairdo like they do. We conspired to get you to experience some of that feeling. The day you stayed at the salon to keep from getting drenched in the rain a perfect lead in to our plan.”

“You never bowed up like a normal male would do when receiving polish on his nails. Then at the restaurant and later at the movie you acted like a female letting me hold you even put lipstick on you. I saw the smile that you tried to hide from me, a sure sign of your enjoyment.

Even today while we were shopping I saw the envious looks you were giving the clothing while I was finding my business suit. I saw where you were looking and visited those areas holding up pieces of clothing to your body. A normal male would have been out the door and half way to his car, no matter what his wife said.”

“Then we have the purse issue, the most telling reason of all. Name me one of our male friends that has ever donned a purse on his shoulder, or even carried one in his hands. The excuse of me not wanting to carry a purse you bought into even though it is so ridiculous. There again show me one female that does not carry a purse, even to go to the ladies room. Now, let’s resolve this right now.”

“Gregg no longer exists, I want nothing to do with him anymore. Gloria is the real you, always has been. I want you to pack up all of your male clothes, put them in the car and take them to Goodwill. Be sure to get a receipt for them so that I know that you did as I asked. You will do this yourself, with no help from me.”

“Then tomorrow morning you need to call Francine and tell her that Gloria needs an appointment for a total transformation to the female gender. Again something you and only you need to do. After your transformation pick out something nice from their boutique to wear. Pay the bill and then drive to my workplace, asking to speak to the new CEO. I will be expecting you before three PM.”

“After getting rid of those nasty male clothes, get cleaned up and put on the nightie lying on the bed and I will see to your ravaging promptly thereafter. Come on gurl, time is a wasting.”

I was almost to the bedroom when all she had told me finally sunk in. I was sad, a few tears running down my cheeks then the rest of what she had said finally made it to my befuddled mind. I stopped, went back to the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of garbage bags and headed for the bedroom. Twenty minutes later all of my male clothes had made it into the bags, and into my car.

I started to get into the car, then remembered what I was wearing.

Back to the bedroom, stripped off my last few male clothes, then donned a blouse and skirt, brushed my hair and used a lipstick to color my otherwise bland lips. Those last few male clothes made it to the bags being dropped off. I reached for my purse and headed to the garage. Once at Goodwill I had plenty of help to unload the bags of my male clothing, the guys helping me eyeing me up as they removed the bags.

An hour later I was back, found the nightie and adjourned to the bathroom. A quick shower, although a bath seemed like a better idea and dried off. I slipped on the nightie, wondering if I needed panties too. I will have to ask Mary. As I made it to the bedroom all of the lights were off, just a few candles in the corners of the room. I felt my way to the bed and was dragged down on top of her.

I was giggling away as she grabbed my penis and massaged it. Yep there will be no need for panties tonight. It was a long night, I lost memory of how many times I spurted that night, I do know my penis was sore the next morning, sore but extremely happy.

I did make the call the next morning and then had to hurry, Francine is ready to take me as soon as I could get to the salon. It was a whirlwind of activity as I was greeted at the door and taken to one of the treatment rooms.

In no time I was naked and a cream had been spread all over my body. Thirty minutes later I was hairless and not just for the short term. My scraggly facial hair was treated the same and now shaving would be a thing of the past for me. I was in a daze, the air on my smooth soft skin had affected my mind, the goose pimples seemed to be forming fast and furious.

Before I knew what was happening, the tech whose name was Sheila had locked a petite cage around junior, locking it and placing the key on a necklace around her neck. I stared at her, but she just smiled, Mary wanted this done right away, since you are her gurl now, and she will see to your sexual needs at her discretion. I looked in the mirror closely, my male organ now petite and pathetic in his new home, the heart shaped lock dangling for all to see.

My attention now centered on my chest where two squiggly blobs of flesh were glued over my nipples. My hands were placed over the blobs and told to keep them there until the glue dries. I was hesitant and moved my hands a little trying to hold them but just barely touching them. To my surprise I could feel every brush of my hand over the nipple of my new breasts, causing even more problems for my overworked mind.

In the meantime my eyebrows were almost done away with, now pencil thin highly arched lines over my now decidedly feminine eyes. Makeup applied to my face left no remains of Gregg in the image in the mirror in front of me. The lipstick in particular was bright red in color and so glossy. I was later in learn it was long lasting, guaranteed to last through the most ardent kissing session and beyond.

Clothes were next, the breasts now felt better since they were nestled in a gorgeous bra, helping to minimize the constant movement. A padded pantie to help shape my derriere and hide my caged penis. It seemed so small now, trapped in his little plastic pink cage, looking cute and not very manly. Stockings with elasticized tops, and a pair of four inch heels completed the underwear. A business suit similar to what Mary bought was slipped on to my body, then I was made to practice walking without tripping in my heels.

They worked on my hair, today just using a curling iron, later in the week a separate appointment just for the things Mary wanted done to my tresses. I will have to get used to the curls dangling over my ears and neck, something else to drive my already overworked senses crazy.

There was no Gregg in the person that left the salon just after two PM. I drove to her office and asked to speak to the CEO. I had wondered why Mary wanted me to speak to the CEO, what has that person got to do with Mary and me. I was shown into the CEO’s office as the light finally came on.

I saw her in her new suit and took off running to meet her. I misjudged my speed and the skirt I was wearing, ending up flying right over her desk landing on her lap. Mary giggling away as I tried to stand up again. I definitely need more practice in the heels.

She twisted and turned trying to see my new look, finally deciding to kiss me to get me to calm down. Her secretary closed the door, giggling away as she did so. Mary made me disengage from her, wanting to see how I turned out. From the smile and grin on her face, I must have turned out okay.

I managed to congratulate her on her promotion, I know something she had worked hard for ever since she was hired here. She is very intelligent often times straightening out other employee’s messes. I guess someone had noticed her efforts and made some changes.

She had a couple of things she still needed to do today, so I sat on her sofa, practicing crossing my legs and applying lipstick. With Mary around I am sure the lipstick application technique would need to be perfected. Mary came to get me, wanting to know what I was fixing for dinner tonight. Huh, was all that emerged from my lips.

“Look sweetheart of mine, since I am the wage earner here now, you are the housewife, catering to my needs and keeping me stress free and happy. The house is now yours to maintain, making it cozy and welcoming to your spouse. Eventually when we have kids you will be raising them like a proud mother should, while still keeping your loving spouse happy and contended. Now what are you fixing for dinner tonight?”

I pouted then started to complain about having to fix dinner.

“Since you look so pretty, maybe even beautiful, I guess I can make an exception for one night and take you out to dinner.”

Proving I was a fast learner I hit her in the shoulder, ‘maybe even beautiful’ my ass, seven hours suffering to look like this, you can fix your own dinner tonight for all I care. She was laughing as she pulled me reluctantly into her embrace. By the time our breasts were touching I was eager for her kiss, making all of this seem worthwhile somehow. My cute little caged sex toy was eager to see some action too.

I grabbed my purse and we headed for the door, some food to fuel the fires then I wanted to get home, I had things to do and a spouse to keep happy. It all started with a purse, and progressed to a life of feminine delights. Yes, Mary keeps the key to my caged male member on a necklace around her neck, you can never tell when she might desire what it keeps secure.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Hope, Embrace It And Find Love

A less than intelligent member of our schools senior class came up with this stupid idea. The Junior-Senior prom was coming up in a few weeks and in our high school there was not enough females for our guys.

A most likely reason for that is the girl’s school down the way in the next adjoining town. It is a sought after school, any self-respecting female that could talk her parents into it would strive to be enrolled there. It was a status symbol, those that attended, looked up to and admired by all the rest. The end result left our school severally female deprived.

A member of the senior student council, suggested the idea, a way for all males to have a date and for the students to make a little money for their different clubs and activities. The idea sounded good at first, any sophomore girl that wanted to attend the prom could volunteer for the prom date auction.

Then a week before the prom, a male could write in a vote for the female of their choice and their respective bid. If they were the highest bidder, the girl got to go to the prom with her purchaser and the student council will be richer.

The soon-to-be major problem had come from another member of my family attending the school, my idiotic brother. He was mister popular in the senior class, football quarterback, class president, straight A student, and member of almost every club on campus. He actually thought his idea would solve the problem, and the females would love it.

Our area would be considered high middle class to plain ass rich. That was one reason the girls school was so popular. The girls at our school were not dumb though, the idea of some boy buying a date for the prom riled them up quite a bit. They may be rich but resented the implication of submitting to an auction for a chance to go to a prom.

The idea had gotten some interest; a lot of the sophomore girls wanting to go to the prom pretty bad. The static from the other girls had yet to be heard from though. The instigator of this charming idea, my brother, was getting worried, no one signing up yet for his auction.

The word was getting out, a lot of covert conversations were entered in to by some of the sophomore girls. Everybody knew they were up to no good, this particular group was quite upset by a female being auctioned off for a date. This was just not right in their opinion. Then, an application appeared for the auction, her name was Hope. They gave her height and weight, her interests, her likes and dislikes, hoping to create some interest.

Days before the write in voting, there were lots of conversations springing up all over campus. Mainly females, but also some of the male nerds were being invited into the plot. In a last minute attempt to salvage his idea, my idiot brother suggested that instead of one male getting the right to escort Hope to the prom, that all the guys bid on her with the total amounts of the bids going into the fund. They would then share Hope, each getting one or two dances with her during the evening.

That idea kind of landed with a thud, since no one had seen a picture of Hope yet, in fact no one had heard of a female student named Hope.

The next morning several social media pages magically appeared, each sporting pictures of Hope. The guys flocked to the pages, and soon there was talk of a bidding war for Hope’s hand to the prom. The guy with the largest bid hoping to get a few more perks from her in the deal.

I briefly looked at the pictures. She was pretty, also looked quite familiar; I knew I had seen her somewhere, but not sure where or when. I guess because my brother had come up with this insane idea, all talk about the idea and the vote conveniently avoided me. No one was talking to me about anything. I think the situation could be best described as me being suddenly perceived as a social outcast because of him.

Now we get to me, a sophomore, fairly good grades, but not as good as my brother’s. I would be hard pressed to come up with anything I was a member of, or any sport I played. I did play a few games of handball when I was a freshman, before I got beat by a mousy little girl fifteen to zip. That was the last handball I played.

I was five foot nine inches tall, weighed a hundred and forty pounds, and was basically a straight up and down pole. My only feature that I liked was my shoulder length hair. It was blonde like my mother’s, not brunette like my idiotic brother’s. No he man shoulders, in fact, any muscular development could not be found anywhere on my body.

I attended the football games with the other students at school, hoping to see my brother get flattened by some big husky lineman. We might have been brothers, but there was no brotherly connection to each other what so ever.

Before this came up, I got along with the female students, we talked a lot and I helped some of them with their homework. In turn, they helped me with subjects I was having trouble with. Then, my big brother stepped in with his brain fart, and I was ostracized by everyone.

I could tell he was worried, if his idea failed miserably, his reputation would take a beating. Two days before the vote was to be held his date for the prom dropped him like a hot potato. He panicked big time, but the militant females in the school had already gotten to the other girls. He tried anybody, and everybody, trying to secure another date for the prom. Absolutely no interest from anyone.

Then the principal of the school stepped into the fracas, changing how all of this was set-up. The guys could offer a bid, but the girl would chose who she would go with. Since the bids were for the school’s benefit, she allowed them all to be collected for school use, but the female would have the right to choose her own date.

In other words, if the guys entered a bid, their bid would be collected, but no guarantee of a date; it was up to the female who she would choose. A few more girls entered their names, but that turned out to be only three more after the dust settled.

Still no one had ever seen Hope in person, the talk about who she really was occupied everybody’s conversation, both males and females. I knew my brother was worried, his appearance at the prom without a date would seriously mess with his reputation. He even went as far as borrowing some more money from our parents so that he could increase his bid for Hope, his last ditch effort to save face. Mom was dead set against it, she disliked his idea from the start, but didn’t say much because Dad stepped in and tried to sooth things out.

The jury is still out on that verdict. I don’t think Dad will escape unscathed either. From the look on Mom’s face, I am quite sure of it.

I had just finished my last class for the day, heading for the bus to get home. I was intercepted by a group of girls and steered into one of the classrooms. There were five of them in total, Jamie being the most outspoken, and apparently the ring leader in this encounter. I was helped into one of the chairs we used for class, and Amy set on my lap to insure I didn’t get away. I rolled my eyes back into my head, dreading the words that would escape from Jamie’s mouth.

“We need your help, as you have seen this idea of your brothers has upset quite a few people. We are not possessions to be bought and sold, no matter what the end result is for. We have come up with a plan and now need the assistance of Hope to complete this exercise.” She was looking me square in the eye, seeing if I had made any connections yet.

I told you I was not that smart, my mind was working on it, but no revelations. Then like a bolt of lightning had hit me, I knew who Hope looked like, me. I struggled to get up, wanting to have nothing to do with any of this. Now I knew why Amy was on my lap, her being one of the bigger girls, she easily kept me seated at the desk.

“We used one of your pictures and photo shopped it to create Hope. It is our idea to make your brother pay dearly for his poor choice of words and lack of good sense. There is talk among the guys on what they will be bidding for, the chance to escort Hope to the prom. That should make Tom increase his bid to save face.

It is our intention to get every last dime he has in retribution for his callous attitude towards females. He has already been told that no other female will go with him no matter what his bid. Everyone not involved in this fiasco has already turned him down for the prom. His last chance is Hope. We all have kidded him about his inability to get a date, such a poor excuse of a male, a supposed leader in our school and football, now a nobody without a date.

“Our idea is to have you be Hope, dressed to the nines to be his date. A little uncertainty on your part as to whom you will go with, but finally agreeing to be his date. Then after the prom is winding down, you unveil yourself and our mission is accomplished. The total destruction of his sexist personality. The only date he could obtain was his brother dressed as a girl! From now through college he will be labeled for who he truly is, not this fantastic student and sports star.

“We have avoided you to keep him off the track; we think his stupid ideas and attitude, has also ruined your social life. We have talked with your Mom, she likes the idea and will answer any questions you might have. The girls have all joined together and bought you a total transformation at the Turnabout Gurl Salon, a gorgeous prom dress and all associated lingerie, makeup and shoes. Please do this for us, we will be with you every step of the way, to hold your hands and help you fit in.

Afterwards, we will see that you get ample rewards for your effort, for doing something no other male would likely do for his friends.

“It is also part of our plan, to have you attend school for one day as Hope, to whet his appetite. Everybody in the school other than your brother knows about this and will ensure you have a pleasant day. Even the teachers are in on this, including the principal. Then the day of the prom, a pampering at the salon all day, then he will pick you up at the salon.

Please do this for us, you are aware of his attitude, he needs to have a little of it knocked out of him. Pleaseeeeeeeeeee.”

I was quiet for a few minutes, Jamie is asking a lot of me. I debated stepping aside, me dressed as a female not the easiest pill to swallow. Finally, my desire to embarrass him won out and I agreed to help them.

The girls delivered me home soon thereafter, even coming in with me to talk to my Mom. My brother Tom was at football practice still, so it was just the girls, Mom and me. Mom made sure I understood what would be involved, this was not going to be some put on a dress and show up. I would be totally converted to the female sex; on the outside, I would be 100 % female. The gown they had in mind showed lots of cleavage and was strapless, so creation of that cleavage would be a necessary part of my transformation.

Tomorrow after school I would be converted to the female sex for my day at school, then the day of the prom a more detailed conversion and dressed in my prom attire. I would stay at Jamie’s tomorrow night to keep Tom from seeing me, then ride with her to school. Tom, picking me up at the salon, would insure him not connecting me with Hope. As an excuse for my male absence, he will be told that I will be staying at my aunt’s house for a couple of days.

The girls left, Mom and me still talking about what was to happen.

“Just go with the flow, you will get to feel what it is like to be a female that might come in handy one day you never know. She had contacted the salon giving them her permission for the changes. I still had to sign for the treatments when I got there, after it all had been explained to me.

In bed that night I couldn’t get comfortable. I laid there wide awake, trying to figure out why I had gave in so easily. The fact that I had a crush on Jamie since forever, might have had something to do with my acceptance.

I was surprised that Mom had agreed to me joining the other side, in the past, she had discouraged me from dressing as any kind of female around Halloween. So why now the sudden turnaround? Lots of questions, unfortunately no answers.

The next day at school, it just dragged along, but finally the bell for the last period rang and I was escorted off the school grounds, and down to the salon by Jamie and her group.

Greeted cordially by a member of the salon staff, then taken to a room at the back of the salon. Two ladies explained all of the things that had been decided on for me, making sure I understood what was involved and how long the changes would last.

The breasts and hair were the longest lasting items, three weeks before they could be reduced to a more masculine size and style. I listened with interest, but not as much as I should have. I signed the permission slips and they started on me.

Today just some changes to my eyebrows, ear piercing and glued on breast forms. Of course, a feminine hairstyle, and clothes suitable for a high school sophomore. Makeup was to be included, Jamie to help me in the morning before school at her house.

Four hours later I emerged from the salon, even I didn’t recognize the female that walked to Jamie’s car. Nothing like my former self, the hair alone changing my appearance significantly. Dressed in a skirt and blouse, stockings and heels, my image said all girl.

A quick trip to the mall for some exposure for the new me, although I just wanted to get somewhere to a bed and lie down. Walking was awkward in the heels, but they made me walk around our mall for an hour taking in all the feminine delights in the store windows before we made it the rest of the way to her home.

It was only nine P.M. but I was beat. The stress of the day and the salon had taken its toll on me, maybe not physically tired but totally mentally drained.

I was given a nightie to wear to bed, using the guest bedroom in her house. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to share her bed, but knew that her Mother would frown on that probably. I awoke to a warm body behind me, her arms wrapped around my body pulling me tight to her.

That is where her Mother found us the next morning, although nothing was said to me, at least. I got dressed in my new girly school clothes, had a glass of juice and we were off. Jamie did my limited makeup and made sure my hair was adequate. Surprisingly, a brush eased the style back into place.

I didn’t get a chance to see my image in a mirror, not familiar with where the mirrors were located in her house. From the looks I was getting at school, I must have looked pretty good. Most of the guys greeted me with open mouths, lust filled eyes and on occasion some drool dripping from their mouth or a low grunt.

Other than that, the day at school was not that bad; everybody treated me as a female getting doors for me, or helping me with a chair. The girls kept me in their conversations, or give me a wink when I was being appraised by another young male. The encounters with Tom were the most rewarding for me.

He tried to engage me in conversation several times, I just ignored him, and walked on like he didn’t exist. One of the girls snapped a picture of his face after I walked off, despair and almost in tears was what the picture showed, causing a very good feeling to come over me.

The entering of the bids had been going on all day, the different guys talking about how much they bid for my hand at the prom. I am sure that only made Tom that much more miserable. Finally the last bell rang, and we made our way to the auditorium for the results of the bidding.

Then the females involved would have an hour to decide if any bid would be accepted. The other three females did real well raising over three hundred and fifty dollars for the class funds. The girls had already decided who they would pick, so they told the principal and she made the announcement. Three very happy couples left the auditorium hand in hand.

A lot of the other guys who bid on the three coeds left also, leaving only the ones that had placed a bid on me. Still when I counted the number of guys left, I was impressed, thirty one guys had bid on me, raising over a thousand dollars for the class fund. I was given the list and I walked off stage to make my decision. We had decided to take the whole hour to make the decision adding some drama to the event.

It was a foregone conclusion that I would choose Tom if he placed the winning bid. That was almost a certainty, the situation he had been placed in, forcing a winning bid. When I looked at the list again and saw what he bid, a smile came to my face.

Of that thousand total, his bid was almost half of it. It was left up to me on how I would inform the group of my decision, I walked back on to the stage approaching the principal. I whispered in her ear my date, and then stood and stared at my admirers.

I decided then to change what I would do on prom night. Yeah, I wanted to embarrass my brother, but also wanted to make the rest of my admirers somewhat happy.

I gave Tom a hug and a little squeal, a prequel to my unveiling tomorrow. I rushed from the stage, found Jamie and we headed home. The next day my appointment at the salon started at seven A.M., so some sleep tonight might be a good idea. Last night my lying awake trying to come to terms with my feelings had cost me several hours of rest, I hoped for a swifter entrance into dreamland tonight. Jamie complimented me on my behavior at the school meeting, thrilled at my little impromptu reaction to Tom.

I told her I was going to change the plan for tomorrow, I will still get Tom, but I wanted to give the other guys some reward too. She smiled figuring that I would do that anyway, just something that was in my nature. When we got to her house, I received a passionate kiss, leaving me breathless and breathing hard.

I was still standing by the car when she stood in her doorway asking if I was coming in, or was I going to spend the evening outside? I hustled inside with my heels clicking along on the sidewalk. Her mother greeted me as I came inside, giving me a stare, but also giggling some at my actions. My smeared lipstick apparently quite comical.

The evening was subdued, not much to talk about, the coming day’s transformation taking up most of my mental capabilities. I did get to bed early, seven A.M. comes way too early for a new inexperienced female. Brushing my hair, getting dressed and something in my stomach took almost an hour; gawd what will it be like when I am fully transformed.

Mom came by to carry me to the salon, her wanting a peek at her new daughter. From the look on her face she was not disappointed.

The rest of the day was a blur, stripped quickly of my clothes, my breast forms removed and a cream spread over my entire body. Even junior got covered in the sweet smelling cream. My nails were worked on as the cream did its job, the long extensions on my fingers painted a deep red the end result. It took them about an hour to get the nails to look that good, gluing on the extensions, a base coat, three coats of polish and a topcoat making them glisten as if they were diamonds.

The cream got removed, my body hair with it. I didn’t have that much to start with, a peach like fuzz in some areas, a little longer in the genital area. But no matter now, it was all gone. My beard area got the same treatment, since I had yet to start shaving, they told me now I would not have to in the future.

My eyebrows were next, neatened up they called it, extermination in my words. There couldn’t have been more than twenty hairs left on each brow, the arch now very obvious and feminine. Yesterday they had shaped them a little, today they made them over to these ultra-feminine delights.

I received another piercing in my ear, apparently one is not adequate for a young female teenager these days. A long chandelier earring in the bottom hole, a diamond stud in the upper hole. The holes were lasered in, no need to worry about the holes closing up later in life.

Then they started on my body. As I was laid on a table, my feet were placed in stirrups jutting out from the end of the table. Spread wide as if making a wish, then a cool spray and all feeling down there is lost. I am not sure why I would need to have junior hid, I wasn’t planning on taking off my dress, either before or after, the prom.

I know a lot of virginity is lost on prom night, but since I was not really a female I definitely had no plans in that regard. Then, as my date is with my brother, Ewwwwww!

One look afterward, and sex might be possible, the perfect slit with two puffy lips surrounding the Promised Land. It sure looked inviting, gawd I am in need of serious therapy even thinking about it. Then my tech had the nerve to tell me that I could have intercourse, just not the well hung studs. I have seen Tom naked and he is anything but well hung, but still I might have to vomit on that thought.

The attention now moved to my chest, where two plastic cups resembling a breast are glued to my chest. Hoses are attached to the cups and a pump is turned on. The sudden suction catches some loose flab pulling it into the cup, the first step toward breasts. I sure hope the size of the cups is not indicative of the finished product. If so my dress may have trouble holding all of the new me inside the confines of the bodice.

To keep my mind off the expansion on my chest, my hair is shampooed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. According to Sally, my hairdresser for the day, a layered cut, blended to frame my face and drape over my bare shoulders in the dress. A multitude of curlers were added, then warm heat from a dryer started flowing over my head.

At that point I drifted off to slumber land, the warm air and the pulsating suction of the pump, making breasts, slipping me into a restful sleep. An hour later, the dryer was turned off, the curlers were left in till the breast pump had done its job. Two hours more and the pulses stopped, signaling a full cup and my status as a female, a vagina and two perky C cup breasts now proclaiming to the world that this body is 100% female.

They applied a little heat to the cups filled with my breast material, the cups softening and almost fading away. If touched they were still there, but most would think they had touched a real breast. They jiggled as my body moved, much like real breasts might move.

Since they looked like a breast, are shaped like one, and were actually my own tissue, I can safely say they are my breasts. Quite likely a long term resident on my chest. I need to think about that later, since makeup was being applied to my face and my curlers were being removed, my mind had all it could handle at this moment. The image before me was even more beautiful that the social media pictures that were showed around school.

I was taken to another room and helped to get dressed. I shuddered often as one of the beautiful lingerie pieces were put on my body. Of course, a matched set, all done in black lace. The corset was so beautiful, but once on it gripped my body like it was a vise. The laces as they were tightened shrunk my waist to ridiculous proportions, while accenting my hips and breasts.

A gorgeous pair of silk stockings were slipped up my legs, causing all kinds of pleasant sensations to flood my overworked and stressed mind.

The tightness of the stockings as they were attached to the corset, just made things worse. The panties maybe the most disturbing of the items, as they caressed my now flat front so tightly.

Then I got a look at my dress. First impressions was where is the rest of it. It indeed was strapless, fitting my new enhanced breasts so tightly. From there it sloped down my torso to mid-thigh, not a wrinkle to be seen as it conformed to my body.

In fact, to get the zipper closed on this dream dress, the corset had to be tightened again. I still could breathe, but getting a full breath was impossible. Only short breaths now possible. Said dress did cover my stocking tops, but any movement of my legs exposed some of the lace tops.

Then my feet were slipped into my heels to be worn with the dress. Black patent leather with a five inch stiletto heel. One thin strap to help hold them on my feet and an open toe to show my red polished toes peeking through my stockings.

Standing in the heels required some adjustments in my posture, as all of my weight was now on the balls of my feet. I tried a few steps trying to figure how to maneuver in the shoes. I am sure I will be hanging on to any male dance partners since even walking in the shoes took my complete undivided attention.

Pictures of me were taken, presumably for my Mother or other interested parties. First to arrive was Jamie, her squeal as she saw me in the lobby sure to be heard for hundreds of miles. After the prom, she would see to my transportation to her home and my deflowering, her words not mine. I gave her a look, but she ignored it, I guess I do have something to look forward to.

My heels were already making my feet miserable, so I sat on the edge of one of the chairs in the lobby. That is where Tom saw me when he entered. Immediately his mouth was open, his tongue trying to keep any drool from leaking out. I have seen him with a lot of dates, this however seemed to be different, maybe because he was so desperate. He took my hand and we left the salon. Outside he had his car, I knew it would not be a limo, since he had spent so much on the bid, there was no money left for anything else.

Straight to the prom, no side trips, no dinner for his prom date tonight. With the condition of my stomach at the moment that was probably a good idea. When we got to the venue he parked the car and leaned towards me. I put my hand on his chest to keep him a safe distance from me. I decided that he needed to hear the truth, I had something in mind that would insure his compliance and sufficiently deflate his big head.

“Tom you need to know something before we head in. The time for your reckoning is now soon to be realized. Your idiotic idea has backfired on you, too many females have been pissed off and now you have to pay a penance. Now we can do this the easy way or I can make your life hell swiftly and completely. I need you to go to every female at the prom, apologize for your stupid idea, and ask for a dance.

Treat each female as a treasure, to be valued and cared for. After the dance ask for a cheek kiss, proof that you have done as I asked. If you get every female to kiss you I will not reveal who I am in front of everyone. We will start with me when we get to the dance floor, a sincere apology, a caring dance and I will kiss you on the cheek. Then on to the next girl.”

“To prove my ability to disgrace you, who knows that you wear boxers to bed every night, Looney Tunes boxers I might add.” I could see the realization sweep over his face, he mouthed ‘Harry’ and I nodded.

“Now do as I say and things will be rough but you will live through it, rock the boat and it will be the worst night of your life.”

He apparently got the hint, took my hand and we entered the prom. Past the chaperones at the front and straight to the dance floor. He looked me straight in the eye, apologizing for suggesting that a female would allow herself to be bought, just to be able to attend a prom. He held out his hands to dance and I stepped into his embrace. He held me properly and once the music started we had an enjoyable dance. He asked me to kiss him, and was startled as I kissed him firmly on the lips. No leaning away, no tongue, but it was a nice sweet kiss.

He moved off to the next female, who just happened to be Jamie. I signaled to her to just go along, I think as he would have to do this to every female his lesson would be learned. I watched to make sure he did as I asked, it became apparent he did understand my threat fully. Jamie danced with him and also kissed him on the lips, his lips now sporting more lipstick than most of the girls.

After she moved away he moved his hand up to wipe his lips, I shook my head no, he had been waiting to see what my reaction would be. He lowered his hand and made his way to the next female. Word had started to be spread about what he had to do, a few giggles popping up every so often.

The female would smile as he approached, knowing that he was being humiliated in what he had to do. They did get a dance with the biggest jock in school though, whatever that is worth.

Once I saw he was doing as I asked, I found one of my suitors and asked him to dance. I held them close, laying my head on their shoulders as we danced to the music. The whole time there was not a fast tune played. All slow romantic numbers where you could hold your partner close and affectionately. Half way through the prom, I had found everybody that had entered a bid on me, a least they got something for their money.

I was watching Tom from afar, he managed to dance with most everybody, a few girls turned him down after the apology, but not many. He wandered over towards me, asked if he could have the next dance. I had to smile his lips were redder than mine, and oh so delectable looking. I relented and put my arms around him. He pulled me tighter, allowing my head to lay on his shoulder.

He whispered to me a thank you for being so nice to him, he knew he didn’t deserve it for how he had treated me over the years. He has learned his lesson, Hope had performed her job well, but with compassion and caring.

As he left the prom, he was a much wiser person, having learned a valuable lesson today. I am sure he will handle himself differently in the future in all his relations with people, both males and especially females.

Before he left, he told me he was going to take a walk and reflect on this evening, I started to wipe off his lipstick from his mouth, but he refused, a reminder of pleasant things to come was his exact words.

Jamie caught me wrapping her arms tightly around me. The next song played, she held me tightly as we danced to the music. With Tom, I could feel his penis, but with Jamie it was her nipples. They were hard as a rock, trying to poke their way through her gown. Of course, mine were not much better, the fabric of my bodice softly rubbing over the nipples as I moved making it only worse. Our breasts were smashed up against each other’s. A delicious feeling I might add.

That night was quite memorable, an evening never to be forgotten. Harry never did show up, it was just Jamie and Hope. When we first arrived at her house, her Mom helped us both get out of our gowns, while Jamie was in the bathroom her Mom hugged me.

Thank you for caring for Jamie and treating her so well. Both of you have my blessing to share your love tonight any way you want to express it. Maybe if I am lucky, you might become a member of our family soon, I for one would welcome you. I am sure Jamie will approach that subject later. I got a kiss on the forehead and she left closing the door behind her.

Jamie came out, walking swiftly towards me, a few minutes later I was without any form of clothing. I was escorted to the bathroom and set on the toilet. Have you ever tried to pee with someone tapping their toe on the floor in front of you? I did manage to get the job done then was whisked back to the bed.

A huge nightie that totally enveloped me was slid over my head. As I was trying to straighten it out I was pushed back on to the bed as she followed me, ending up on top of me her legs on either side of my body. She grabbed my hands and raised them above my head and held there as her mouth headed to my nipples. The nightie just barely covering the nipples, her lips quickly pushing the nightie away so she could get my nipple in her mouth. I took in a huge breath as she started sucking on it, her tongue caressing the nipple keeping it hard and erect. This went on for hours, I never did manage anything other than some kisses to her face. Wonderful erotic kisses that left both us panting.

Believe me I am not complaining, it was pure heaven. Sometime in the early morning we both collapsed, our energy total drained. Junior remained under the vagina, but I swore she would wear out my covering as she rubbed hers all over mine, grinding down to be sure I could feel it.

Boy I could feel it, no doubt as to what she was doing. I guess you could say that Hope lost her virginity that night, more than once. The next morning we both woke to a smiling face, a smile that never left our faces the entire day.

It was decided that Hope was to be the person to complete high school, the rest of the sophomore year spent getting me a wardrobe and necessary female accessories to make Hope real. Our Mom’s also decided that both Jamie and I would attend the girls’ school next year, a much better place for two females in a loving relationship. Both Jamie and I did date some males, but it was only for one date, with no expectations for anything more to come.

Jamie took real good care of me, seeing that I was attended to as needed, her smile and glow after seeing to my care more than enough to make me happy. We did attend our proms in both our junior and senior years, but chose not to have specific dates, just attended as two females, dancing the night away in the arms of whoever wanted to dance with us.

We graduated high school with honors, with me making straight A’s my senior year. We both got scholarships for college, Jamie deciding to become a nurse. I declined the scholarship, instead deciding to become a cosmetologist at the local vocational school.

Jamie is now a pediatric nurse, at one of the local hospitals and is quite happy. Jamie is trying to get pregnant, so some time as a mother is likely in my future. Working with all the young kids, just makes her want one herself even more.

I graduated beauty school with honors, and two years later now own a beauty salon of my own. My salon is part of a national chain, the same as what first transformed me to the female gender. I have made a lot of males happy, just like me they just needed to see what their life as a female would be like, then join the ranks. It is so rewarding watching as they discover their feminine side, then see them reach out to make their vision become real.

Well I need to get home, dinner needs to be prepared and then I need to freshen up, since I have a lot to do tonight to keep Jamie happy and contended. I emerged from the bedroom later, a cute baby doll nightie, thong panties and five inch heels. Of course, fresh lipstick and my hair piled on top of my head to make access to my neck and breasts easier for my love. Yeah it is hard life, but oh so much fun. Now when we have our baby, things will likely get even more exciting.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Irene, A Step Maid

I was a little apprehensive about going home this time. Home just did not seem like a place I wanted to be any more. I am very thankful for finally escaping from this damn school though. Even a little proud of graduating tenth in my class, although I doubted anyone else would lend any significance to the feat.

The school was a boarding school, nestled in the mountains in the northern part of Arizona. It was far from any civilization, the nearest town about seventy miles away. No school uniforms thankfully, but the curriculum was very unusual. Oh we had the usual math, English and a foreign language to learn, French by the way in my case, but the other areas of study were far from anything a normal school might teach.

The reason I was in this school was because of the woman my Dad married shortly after my real Mom died in an auto accident. Prior to this school I was in a normal boarding school, in Southern California. I don’t think either of my original parents knew how to deal with male children, the boarding school life one that I was immersed in since the second grade. My sisters did not share my fate, they got to stay home and attend a regular school.

While at the school in Southern California I did get to see my parents at Christmas, and for two weeks during summer recess. Mom always too busy to spend much time with me and Dad too wrapped up in his business. I did get to spend time with my sisters though, an enjoyable time had by all. We did things together, shopped for presents for each other during the Christmas break and usually spent some time at the beach during the short summer recess. Better than at the boarding school but still not a real family and home environment.

I grew up realizing I was always going to be on my own, so I withdrew physically from showing any kind of affection to others. I resorted to reading and using the internet for my enjoyment, finding out that the normal female oriented romance novels appealed to me. Not for me identifying with the heroine, but for the amount of love shared among the characters. Soon I was fantasizing about being in a loving family, with a Mother and Father that actually wanted to spend time with me and love me.

When Dad sent me an email about remarrying a younger woman I was heart broken. I then came to the conclusion that my real Mother meant little to him, the wedding was only four months after she died in the car accident. I was later to learn he had been living with this woman on and off for over a year, his marriage to my real Mom apparently meaning nothing to him.

Then two weeks later I was transferred from my current school to this one, never even getting to go home before the transfer. The new school seemed nicer in a way, but a lot stricter. It was in a valley nestled among the towering peaks nearby, laid out beautifully on a pristine campus. I got off my bus one afternoon and was attending classes the next morning.

I was puzzled by the classes I had to attend, mainly ones involving keeping up a house, cooking and how to dress while doing this. I excelled in the regular subjects like French, English and math, but suffered in the other classes. Since I really didn’t have much choice in the matter, I finally relented and tried to do better in the other subjects. I hoped the year I had left of schooling would pass quickly, then I would be of age I could do what I wanted.

I knew my father had set up a trust fund for me, available to me on my eighteenth birthday, a date I had circled on my calendar long ago. That date would be three days after I graduated from this school.

I had already ruled out college, not wanting to spend any more time in learning anything. Even the thought of spending four more years in some dorm made me sad, I need to find someone to love and in turn be loved back.

I did eventually learn what the new school wanted me to. I could clean a house better than most of my fellow students and could cook most any dish from memory, never needing a recipe to do so. The dressing the part was another matter, but I did put up with having to wear an apron for any cleaning or cooking tasks that was assigned to me. I conveniently over looked the other requirements for dressing appropriately, figuring they did not apply to me. Quite a few of my fellow male students did have to dress the part, wearing a maid’s dress and using makeup.

I presume it was never brought up to me since my family did not furnish me uniforms or makeup to use. I never put much thought into what the others had to do, just figuring it was a weird school, at least they would know how to take care of themselves if they did not marry. I did figure out they were being trained to be maids, how that will work out with their family an unknown entity.

A couple of times I almost had to borrow one of my fellow students dresses, since my clothes were getting thread bare from being used for years. My pants were already showing my ankle, my growth spurt making them look ridiculous on me.

Since we were always doing something either cleaning or cooking I didn’t eat much, my appetite never amounting to much. I guess that was good in a way since my shirts and pants waist wise still fitted me properly, although having been bought new over five years ago. I had already thrown several pair of pants and quite a few shirts out since they had virtually fell apart while I was trying to put them on. I had mentioned to my family that I could use some new clothes but my numerous requests fell on deaf ears.

I managed to complete the year somehow with only a couple of more classes today, then I was finished with this place. I made my way to my room after finishing my last class, only to find the head mistress waiting for me. I noticed my closet was empty, even the shelves with my underwear were obviously vacant.

She told me to undress and take a bath, then dress in the clothes laying on my bed. I saw a garment bag laying there, a smile lighting up my face. Maybe someone got me some new clothes. She told me to hurry, so I wouldn’t miss the bus into town.

I quickly undressed and went to take a bath. The bathrooms in our rooms did not have showers, so a bath was the only way of cleansing ourselves. I hurried, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. Out of the bath, the scented soap still lingering on my body, a smell I had gotten used to over the year. I toweled dry and rushed to the bed to open the garment bag.

Once open I stepped back, a pair of panties, a bra, a slip, and a dress was the only things in the bag. Oh there was a pair of high heels in the bottom of the bag and a scrunchie pinned to the dress. I looked for my old clothes, but they were missing along with the head mistress. I looked to see if the head mistress was still around, even calling out to her. No answer, so I decided getting away from here is more important than what I would be wearing.

I dressed in the clothes, the classes I attended in dressing the part of a maid supplied the know how to get the right piece of clothing on the right part of my body. I looked around my room, my laptop was the only thing remaining of mine. I grabbed it and saw my bus tickets laying on top. I looked at the clock on my bedroom wall and hurried out front, I knew the school bus would be leaving soon and I didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary.

The female clothes felt funny, the silky feeling doing all kinds of things to my over stressed mind. The skirt in particular was short with petticoats underneath to make it stand out. The dress was a fancy maid’s dress, why I was given it to wear home baffled me. I hurried out the door of the dorm just barely catching the school’s bus before it left.

As I set in one of the seats toward the back of the bus I suddenly realized I was out dressed as a female, on my way back east with no other clothes available. I knew it would be a day and a half before I arrived at my home.

Well too late to do anything about it now. I wonder when I arrived if any of my family will be waiting for me at the bus station. On trips home in the past for Christmas or summer vacations I was not always greeted at the bus terminal, often having to take a cab to get home. I then realized I had no money or I.D, just the bus ticket and my laptop.

I kept thinking about my escape from the school, that alone keeping my spirits up. I made the connection in town, surrendering my ticket and took a seat on the bus to take me home. I received several careful inspections by the other travelers, not often you see someone dressed as a maid on a bus. At least, no one set next to me on the first leg home. Other than being hungry the trip went fairly fast, I spent most of it taking naps or staring out the window.

As the bus pulled into the small town I used to call home, I perked up wanting to see if anyone was waiting for me. Even though I had managed numerous short cat naps from time to time, I was still tired. With only my sisters as close family I doubted I would settle around here, too many sad memories to deal with.

Surprise, surprise my step mother greeted the bus, taking my hand and leading me to her car. I had received a picture of her early on so I knew who she was. A new Toyota in white with leather seats greeted me. She clicked the locks and I entered the car as carefully as I could while trying to keep modest.

She complimented me on my appearance, especially my waist. I kept quiet, I am sure she has an agenda to inform me of, so I will remain quiet and see what develops. As she drove off she asked me if I was hungry. My stomach answered much to my embarrassment. She asked if I had not eaten something on the trip here.

I curtly answered I had no money to buy anything to eat. She looked to see if I was kidding then she asked if I had opened my laptop on the trip. I told her no, while I reached for the laptop and opened the case. There laying on top of the keyboard was two crisp twenty dollar bills staring at me. I turned many shades of red since I had presumed the worse and in turn she had seen to my basic needs.

A few minutes later we pulled into a restaurant’s parking lot and she turned the car off. Come on let’s get you something to eat before you blow away. I looked at my clothing, the slips underneath my maid’s dress keeping the skirt flared out. She arched her eyebrow’s up, reminding me that I had made the trip across the country in that dress, and lived to tell about it, a little more exposure is not going to kill you.

I eased myself out of the seat and followed her into the restaurant. When we were greeted by the hostess, I was hoping she would request a table or a booth apart from the others. Nope she pointed to a table right in front of the dining area, visible to everyone in the restaurant.

A waitress showed up handing us menus, and took our drink orders. Connie, my step Mom told me we had lots to discuss. She suggested that I listen to all the facts, then after thinking about what I had heard for a while, then ask pertinent questions with some discussion to follow. I nodded my head but she insisted on a verbal response. Yes, I understand was voiced, but I could not keep eye contact with her, my eyes focused on my dress with a slight blush coming to my face.

The waitress returned and Connie ordered for both of us, some salads with meat and cheese, with an assortment of salad dressings to place thereon. After the waitress left my step mom started her spiel. At the time, I thought of it as a spiel, something made up to make her point salient.

Your Father is currently serving a prison term for embezzlement in the state correctional system. Since there were many charges leveled against him, his chance of getting out anytime soon are pretty slim.

His courting and subsequent marriage to me was another attempt to cover his losses, I only escaped with minimum losses since I had checked him out before marriage, and found a lot of things that were of concern to me. All of my wealth and possessions were put in my Mother’s name, thus he was unable to latch on to any of them.

As soon as he found out about my precautions he quit coming around, I presume spending his time wooing some other source of financial wealth. We never did obtain a divorce, he was too busy trying to seduce his next victim. It all came crashing down on him when an audit of his company accounts revealed a shortage of almost a half million dollars. He was arrested and after several days of interrogation revealed all of the other funds he had stolen and then lost in some utterly stupid financial moves. Since he did confess to the crimes, there was no trial, the judge passing sentence a few days later.

All of this transpired about the time I pulled you from the boarding school in California and placed you in the one in Arizona. That was done because he had lost all of his personal money, including money set aside for your schooling and your trust fund. The school I transferred you to is one operated by one of my friends, so there was no tuition necessary to be paid. I did check on you often, the head mistress giving me reports on your progress including pictures as you progressed in your studies. Of course, I took in your sisters, since they also had no funds for schooling or anyplace to live now. Your old house was sold off to cover court costs and some personal monies that he had stolen from individuals he had duped.

Our salads were delivered and she paused in her story. The salads were good, since my hunger was intense I consumed all of mine over the next thirty minutes. I did use proper table manners, eating slowly and savoring every bite. My one hand remained in my lap where it was supposed to be, a smile on Connie’s face when she saw my actions. After the dishes were carried away, she resumed her story.

I admit not sending you new clothes or money for you to purchase some, wanting to see how you would handle the situation. You did so well, not bitching or complaining but adapting to what you were left with. My friend, the head mistress, felt so sorry for you, almost giving you a full set of maid’s clothing so you would not look so pitiful. I must compliment you on your resolve and determination, admirable to say the least.

Now we arrive at your future. Do you have any thoughts on the matter, I am all ears if you have something you would like to do or pursue. I sat there wondering what I could do or pursue to make something of my life. With my trust fund gone, I really did not have any options left. I did not want to depend on Connie for clothing, somewhere to live and money for essentially everything since I did not have a single thing to my name. I looked down at my maid’s dress and thought why not.

I cleared my throat and asked if I could work for her as a maid. I am sure your friend can attest to my skills, and maybe you could find it in your heart to furnish somewhere for me to live as part of my wages. I am trustworthy, have had all of my shots and can be an asset to any household. Surely a large house such as yours could use experienced help. I saw her smile, then she grabbed the check, paid and we left. She took my hand making sure that I kept up with her as we made our way to her car.

The remainder of the trip was fairly short, about fifteen minutes in length. When she pulled up to the house I swallowed hard, looked out of the window again then back at her. Her smile was ear to ear now, a giggle or two intermixed every once in a while. We parked in front of the house and she came around to get my door for me. I was helped out, then taken into the house. I kept looking around then back at her, I had no idea she owned anything this big. It was a presumption on my part when I asked if I could be her maid earlier.

I was shown in to the parlor, then over to a love seat near a writing table. She sat down at the table and took some paper and pen and wrote down my request and her response to it. It turned out to be a contract between her and me, about my employment with her. She listed what I would provide and what she would compensate me for those services. She looked over what she wrote, then at me, finally deciding what she had written was adequate. It was handed to me along with a pen to look over and sign if I thought it was fair.

I made it down to what I would receive in wages, then promptly fainted. I came around to find that I was nestled in her arms with my face a few inches from her bosom. She was running her fingers through my hair and pulling me closer for a hug every now and then. When she saw that I was back among the living she giggled, wanting to know how much she would have to increase my wages to make me accept the deal. I just stared at her, leaning over to the table and finding the pen to sign the contract. I reached up to try and hug her, but she had the advantage and was gripping me tightly in her embrace. I tried to get up, but she wanted me to lay still and listen to her for a minute.

“The third floor of her house is designed for housing any domestic help she might employ, several bedrooms and two baths along with lots of closet space. There is an elevator that goes directly to the kitchen, so having to climb stairs will not be necessary.”

“You will mainly be responsible for her care, helping with clothes, baths and normal female maintenance like nails and hair care. She already has a maid for my sisters, so I will be spared that duty. I will need to share in cooking the meals with the other maid, but she has a service for cleaning the house and maintaining any of the outside grounds. It will be 24/7 every day, normal work hours during the day and on call for late evenings and nights. When she is out of town I am free to do what I want, the chauffeur will be able to take me anywhere I might desire. There will be times I will have to accompany her on her trips, so a passport will be needed to be obtained, that to be handled in the next few days.”

“We need to see to your looks, I can’t have my personal maid looking so dowdy, I think a few things to give you a female figure, then a new hairstyle and some lessons in makeup might be called for. Other than that I am thrilled that you have decided to be my maid. I will have to admit that the thought had crossed my mind often when you were attending the boarding school. I didn’t want to force you or influence you in any way, a decision like this has to be made freely. I think we can have a nice relationship as maid and employer and also enjoy one as mother and daughter if you would be so inclined.

That last part only between the two of us. I care for your sisters, but I do not see them as my daughters. They are too much like your father, uncaring and manipulative. I laid there for a few moments then reached up and pulled her close to me trying my best to hug her with all of my being. Between the two of us we managed a tender hug, lasting for quite sometime. Maybe just maybe I have found someone to love and in return to love me.

A little while later I was shown to my room, the larger of the rooms on the third floor. I was quite impressed, a queen size bed and a separate sitting area by the window. An en suite bath, with a huge tub. At the other end of the bath a built in vanity with a large mirror for my makeup and hair needs. One whole wall of my bedroom devoted to a walk in closet, already having a few maid’s dresses hanging there. I looked at her, did she presume I would choose to be a maid, or was this all planned somehow.

I received a smirk in return, then she walked in one end of the closet and opened a drawer and removed a gorgeous nightie for me to wear tonight, then back to the closet and pulled out a matching robe to be worn over the nightie. She suggested that I change then come to her room on the second floor. I was holding the nightie in my hands when she left the room, all of this a little much since I had only arrived a few hours ago. I did surrender to the nightie, shivers encompassing me as it slid down my body. What a delicious feeling it provided.

With the nightie in place, I delighted in the feel of it on my arms and body. Then the robe after that making me feel so warm and cozy. I looked for some slippers, not finding any but did find a pair of heels, with a moderate heel. They fit perfectly, a smile coming to my face, Connie apparently had this planned for quite some time, everything just too convenient for random luck. Everything so far in my size. I made my way down the stairs, needing the practice if I am going to be wearing heels all the time.

Her bedroom was the larger one on the second floor, decorated to be a feminine delight, the main centerpiece a canopy bed right in the middle of the room. Lacy curtains on the windows and an even bigger sitting area in the corner of the room. She was sitting at her vanity brushing her hair as I approached. I held out my hand for the brush and took over the job. I brushed slowly making sure to run the brush through the entire length of her hair. I saw her close her eyes enjoying the feeling of having her hair brushed.

In the boarding school it was one of my favorite things to do to brush someone’s hair and to have mine brushed in return. For an eternity I brushed and she purred, for that is what it sounded like as she was enjoying my ministrations.

I stopped, laying the brush down and started rubbing her shoulders, working out the knots I felt in her muscles. Now she was moaning at my efforts, with me giggling a few times as she strung a few moans together in some sort of sentence. When I felt I had them all removed I moved my attention to her face, using some cleanser to clean off all her makeup. Again the eyes closed and quaint little sounds coming from her mouth. I found some moisturizing cream to finish the job, applying it and rubbing it in.

I stopped for a minute to see what else I could do for her, only to be dragged to her bed and placed in the middle of it, sans the robe. She scooted in next to me and held me tight, not allowing me to move or escape. I whispered that I needed to head to my room, if there isn’t anything else I can do for her.

She placed her finger on my mouth, telling me to shush. She pulled me in a little tighter and was soon asleep. I was able to make her happy with my efforts, to show my love and caring for someone else. For once in my life I seem to be loved in return, what a wonderful feeling. I closed my eyes too and was soon lost in the pleasant feelings of a delightful sleep.

She wouldn’t let me out of her sight for the next week, we did things together, things that a female does to make her feel pretty and attractive. I received those same things back in return, although she does admit that she is not as experienced as I am in doing nails and makeup. I guess I had picked up more from my classes in school than I realized since all of this came so easily to me.

Then on the Monday of the following week, her chauffeur brought her car around and Connie and I departed the house. I had been attired in one of my other maid dresses, one that was in between being a maid’s dress and normal feminine wear. I asked where we were going but her finger on my lips stopped any further questions.

When we pulled up in front of the salon I swallowed hard, she had mentioned making me look less dowdy, but I had conveniently forgot that part of the conversation. Well I guess the time for those changes has arrived. I was instructed to enter and tell them that Irene is here for her appointment.

I never connected the name Irene with me until one of the gals came and took me to the back. I thought I was just announcing that Connie was here for an appointment. Duh it takes some people a lot longer to figure some things out. Irene and Connie are two distinctive names, not easily confused.

Several techs entered the room, apparently all of them to work on my dowdiness. Let’s just say that I severally doubt the word dowdy and me will be referred to in the same sentence ever again. Ears pierced, body hair removed, a female appliance applied covering my male genitalia and two perky breasts added to my former flat chest.

Irene is now here for the duration, the breasts in particular pointing out that fact, sucked from my body I imagine they are mine for quite a while. Then they started on my hair, a cute layered bob cut for now, until I can grow my hair longer. It was five hours later before I received any clothes to wear, the underwear coming first.

A pair of panties, then I was fitted for a corset, a cute lacy piece of fluff that absolutely took my breath away. Not for being nice looking but for the way it engulfed me in its evil embrace. After it was laced up properly, It took me thirty minutes before I could resume breathing in a somewhat normal manner. It was not the corset that gave way, it was my body that had to adjust. Short breaths and often, if I wanted any air at all.

I pleaded and begged for some relief, even an inch would be most welcome. Their only reply is that tomorrow it could be taken in another inch, maybe two. I tried to let out a groan, but that was even not to be. My maid’s dress again for the trip home, much looser than on the trip here due to the corset.

Of course, Connie was ecstatic at my new looks, her hands going to my breasts immediately. Back home and I resumed my duties as her personal maid. In the morning I was to see to her dressing, selecting her clothes to wear was one of my responsibilities after she informed me of what was on her agenda for the day. Then seeing to the maintenance of her room, linens changed, clothes seen to and all straightened as needed.

After the first week the other maid handled breakfast and lunch when there was someone home, and I cooked and served dinner every night. That change was made after Connie took a bite of my first offering. I was proud, a way to show my love and caring for her, a delicious meal served properly and eagerly consumed by her.

On occasion one or more of my sisters would be there for dinner, but most of the time they were at a friend’s house or out on a date. In our limited conversations with each other they were looking for someone to marry, there ticket out of here. Although Connie gave them a roof over their head, nothing more was offered to them other than a small allowance for their basic needs.

When they complained she pointed to me, telling them they could work for her as maids to make extra money for whatever they wanted. No one took her up on her offer, they wanted the easy way, to them that meant getting married and acting as wives.

I pity anyone that married one of them, all my sisters were looking for was someone to take care of them and who they could eventually fleece for their money. On several occasions they actually stated those words, not ashamed of their beliefs or behavior in the least.

It wasn’t but a few weeks later when I went to my room to find my closets and dresser empty. I made sure they were not hidden in the room somewhere, now worried if I had done something wrong and was being evicted. I was never one for having any self confidence, so as I made my way down to her room I was almost sick to my stomach in worry. I knocked like I usually do when her bedroom door is closed then entered. Connie was hanging something in the small closet nearest the bathroom. I noticed a new dresser there to the other side of the closet, one that had not been there until now.

I walked up to her and curtsied. I manged to get my question out, although it was barely heard, a combination of me being nervous and my all of a sudden squeaky voice. She made me repeat the question this time loud enough for her to be able to understand it.

“Am I being let go for some reason, my uniforms are missing from my closet and my dresser with my dainties is empty. What ever I did I am so sorry. You can dock my pay, or even not pay me, but I need you in my life. Please keep me. Please…….

Connie pulled me closer to her, then both hands on the side of my head as she leaned in and kissed me. I absolutely melted, then started sobbing uncontrollably. She held me close letting the tears ease, then stepped aside letting me see inside the closet she was standing in front of. There were all of my uniforms, neatly lined up. Right next to them was my going out in public clothes, ones that I had not even realized were missing from my room.

I giggled, then attacked her kissing and rubbing and squeezing her getting her to giggling, then outright laughter. Once calmed down some she told that my sisters were moving out, they had found an apartment that one of their boyfriends had and would share with them. Connie had no problem with them moving out but wanted them to realize once they did there would be no returning back here. She gave each a check for a thousand dollars, but reminded them there would be no more in the future. So plan ahead. The girls were so happy and almost ran out of the house. Their maid was packing for them now and the boyfriend and some of his friends would be by later to pick up the boxes.

“So my dear daughter it is just you and me now. The sister’s maid will stay on to help keep up the house, the two of you now responsible for its cleanliness and tidiness. The service I had in the past now terminated. So let’s get that makeup repaired and get to work. I expect something special for dinner tonight, so we can celebrate, then a night of cuddling and kissing culminating in a late brunch maybe. Then an afternoon shopping for my maid and daughter.”

Just think what might of happened if I had not offered to be her maid. But then again I think she had it all planned in advance anyway. Either way I am so happy a caring mother for her daughter and a career as a maid, a job I so enjoy. A wonderful life indeed as a step-maid.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Joy, In Her Loving Embrace

I was looking forward to our annual Halloween Ball, the chance to dress up in costume, and mingle with the people that work for us is always enjoyable. The business in question is actually my wife’s, passed down from her Mother to her a couple of years ago.

I help in the business, mainly in public relations as Ginger my wife concentrates on the actual day to day decisions of the company. It is a quite good sized business with almost five hundred employees. In our area of the state we are the primary source of jobs and income, so we are respected and catered to often.

The Halloween festivities are especially looked forward to by Ginger, with her doing something special every year. This year she chose two charities to raise funds for, something she has done in the past but not at the Halloween Ball. Ginger always handled our costumes, usually with me finding what I was wearing as it was set out for me to put on. She preferred a big fancy ball gown for her costume , usually of some extravagant fabric with most of her bosom prominently on display.

It was always tasteful, but as far as I am concerned so erotic. It was not uncommon for me to spend the entire ball with a hard-on, one that would not relent. Every glance at her seemingly causing a drop of moisture to escape the tip of my male organ.

In years past I have been a pirate, a policeman, even a cute pussycat, with whiskers over a foot long. Every year I pester her to find out what she has in mind for me, each year I am teased with lots of responses, of which none of them turn out to be what I end up as. I think she enjoys that part as much as me actually dressing in the costume.

Each year she makes sure there is plenty to eat, several bands for dancing and lots of beverages, albeit non with alcohol. The employees were encouraged to bring their spouses, leaving their kids at the local school that was set up to baby sit the children, staffed by volunteers. She had a smaller costume contest for the kids the actual day of Halloween where every child received a prize and, of course, lots of candy.

For the ball itself prizes were available for best costume, best furry critter, best cartoon character and scads more. The prizes were substantial, usually ranging around the thousand dollar mark. To make it fair management and supervisors were excluded from the contest prizes, they having their own contest held privately.

This year she spent a lot of time preparing her surprise for me, a lot of phone conversations were involved as she planned this all out. I kind of thought it had to do with the two charities, but it was only a wild guess on my part.

We used our shipping warehouse to hold the ball in, the items usually in the warehouse housed temporarily in semi-trailers in an adjacent parking lot. Not a minor task since it took sixty-one semi-trailers to empty the warehouse. The decorations she had arranged for were better than most years, with a huge dais right in the middle of the warehouse spiraling fifteen feet above the warehouse floor. It had taken them three days to build it, the talk now all over the company about its use for the ball. Lots of lights, ribbons, hanging ghosts and goblins, everything that might have some connection to the Halloween theme adorned the walls and the ceilings of the warehouse.

Every year I arranged press coverage of the Ball, the publicity good for the company. Of the reporters that were invited to see the preparations for the ball, the dais seemed to attract the most attention. Everyone that saw it was curious wanting to know what it was for.

Unfortunately, Ginger was the only one who knew and she was tight lipped. Her suggestion to anyone that asked her was to come back the night of the ball and find out for themselves. In a way that was good publicity for us, sure to get us favorable press coverage, possibly a front page story.

Privately I asked Ginger what she had in mind, wanting to know a little more so I could slant the press coverage the right way. I hoped to get a straight answer from her before she realized what I had asked, but like usual all I got was a huge smile whispering in my ear that I will be one of the first to know the night of the ball.

I knew better than to ask any more, she was going to keep her secret no matter what. It was coming down to the wire, everything in place, as people were talking about the ball both employees and the area residents, the interest seemed off the chart this year. At the last minute, she arranged for some more semi-trailers making the space twice as large as an adjacent warehouse was also emptied. The decorations were spread out, still making quite a show even though they were less of them in any given area.

She upped the food orders and arranged for the local sheriff’s office to provide security for the ball. I raised my eyebrows at her latest actions, but she had proven in the past her ability to make correct judgments in anything she attempts, so I let it ride. I was now super curious about the dais and her surprise for the ball. I even ease dropped on a couple of her phone conversations trying to get some info on what she was planning but learned essentially nothing.

The day before the ball I was told to plan on staying home, my fitting for the costume would be handled at home and then I would be transported to the ball. Another raising of the eyebrows, but again that is all she said, discussion over with. She often handles things this way, since her record is almost flawless in any endeavor she attempts, who am I to question her actions. That did not stop me from being curious, a whole day to be fitted for a costume? No answers forthcoming, so I decided to keep quiet and wait for my fate.

The day of the ball came way too soon, I had gone to bed around midnight, Ginger still up handling things when I slipped under the covers. The next morning I was kissed on the lips to wake me, something she often does, something I am most happy to endure. She popped a pill in my mouth and made me drink some water from a bottle that she had with her. A vitamin I was told to make sure I made it through the day without falling asleep. I made it as far as the bathroom and sat on the toilet and that is the last thing I remember.

If only I knew what she was planning? Unbeknownst to me my day was going to be filled as quite a few ladies descended on me to transform me into what Ginger had arranged. I was given the pill shortly after nine AM and would not wake from my induced sleep until a little after six PM.

When I started to come around my vision was blurred, I could see objects but not what they were. It was like my head was in a fog. Slowly my mind started to function a little and I tried to ask a question. I found something in my mouth, my tongue not moving and then realized I was gagged. I tried to move my hands to my mouth to remove the gag, but they were unable to help, since they never left the side of my body. I tried to move my feet and the same thing was happening there. I was able to move them a few inches, but then something stopped any further movement.

As I lay there I tried to figure out what had happened to me. The pill I think I remember her giving me must have knocked me out, I felt weight on my chest, and a tight restriction on my waist. Whatever I was wearing was fitted close to my body above the waist and had many layers below the waist since I was laying on quite a few layers of material. My feet were arched, my legs sliding against each other sending waves of pleasure through my body, even though they were restricted some. Oh my gawd I am dressed as a female. That sudden realization making me nervous as my heart started beating wildly.

I breathed in some trying to get enough air to ease my apparent panic. I smelled a sweet perfume, for some reason it just became apparent to my senses. I quickly wondered how far she had went in my costume choice, the perfume that I smelled most likely from my body. I moved my head a little, feeling earrings swinging from my earlobes. I also felt longer hair against my neck, some of it I was apparently laying on since I felt it restricted movement, as if it was caught under me.

I became aware of someone holding their head above mine, a fuzzy image most likely a woman from the image. She leaned closer and started talking to me.

“I see you have awoken, now listen carefully as I have only time to tell you this once. Blink your eyes if you understand.”

I blinked twice and felt the longer lashes touching each other. Gawd I seem to be immersed in this feminine sea, I sure hope the lifeboat doesn’t capsize. Heck I hope there is a lifeboat.

“You are the centerpiece of my Halloween surprise. Dressed in a beautiful ball gown, one of my previous gowns that I wore just last year and every inch a female. That includes real breasts and a cute slit that I am dying to take advantage of. The purpose you will hear a little later when I introduce you to the crowd.”

“Incidentally we have a full house almost three thousand tickets have been sold, both ball rooms full and a line standing outside waiting to come in later. You have done well, all of your press buddies are here, waiting to take pictures of the occupant of the dais, which is going to be you. Since you will be standing the whole time your feet might get a little sore, I will make sure they are soothed later after the ball.”

“I knew you would want to help me in this way, since a little birdie whispered in my ear about your interest in feminine lingerie while in high school. You should not keep secrets like this from your wife, no telling where it will lead. Well tonight you are in some sexy silk lingerie, your breasts and cute slit nestled in two exceptional examples of imported silk lingerie from France. Time for you to take your place of honor, princess of the ball. Be good for me, the rewards after will more than be worth the sacrifice you have made for me.”

I felt her kiss me, then I was lifted by others and taken out to my home for the evening. I felt strong arms carry me somewhere, the noise getting quite loud and the nearby people gasping as I came into view. I was placed on to a metal platform and was soon lifted to my perch. I was moved off the platform and attached to the dais at my ankles and to a pole rising from the back of the dais at my wrists.

I was hoping to be untied, or at least the gag removed but neither happened. Somebody arranged my dress around me and I heard the lift lower. I sighed, alone on my royal perch. I could lean against the metal pole for support, my feet could move a few inches in either direction but my wrists attached to the pole kept the rest of me in place.

A few minutes later I heard Ginger’s voice welcoming everyone to the annual Halloween Ball. She mentioned about the food and dancing then told everyone that the hours of the ball had been extended for this special evening, the festivities will conclude at two AM that is six hours from now. I groaned into the gag, although I doubt anyone could hear me for the noise from the crowd.

She mentioned to be sure to pick up your ballots at the base of the dais, vote for your choice of options and then deposit them in the box found in the same location. “Our princess needs your input to help her decide her fate. During the evening I will make people aware of the results of the voting so far. If you want a more direct say in what options are offered for our princess, a hundred dollar donation to either of our charities will get you a special ballot, allowing you to vote for specific options to be applied to our princess. A donation of five hundred dollars will get you a dance with our princess after midnight. Time for the dance is limited so be sure to get your donations in early.”

“Now a little bit about our gorgeous princess. You all know her, an upstanding member of the community who participates in everything worthwhile. She is a friend to most of you, helping when necessary and donating time and money to any worthwhile cause. She is a member of most every civic organization in the area, and past president of the chamber of commerce. She has volunteered herself tonight, to be a part of this Halloween ball, hoping to encourage you to support these two worthwhile charities as she feels so strong about them. Maybe guide her in her options for the future, something she will be eternally grateful for.”

“Ladies and Gentleman may I introduce my husband and soul mate Joel, who for the future will be known as Joy, our Halloween Princess.”

I heard a roar of applause, my face turning bright red instantly. The applause went on and on for longer than I thought possible. I guess me dressed as a female was something for them to be excited about. I heard my new name called out often from the crowd below that alone kept my face on the pink side for most of the evening. I tried to figure out why me, my time in high school wearing a piece of lingerie lasted for maybe five minutes before my sister caught me. She threatened me with public exposure if I ever did it again, a threat I took seriously. I am not even sure if I enjoyed the five minutes in her panties, since it was so short. I did fantasize about it for months afterward, but the threat of exposing me to my high school classmates pretty much eliminated any desire to do it again.

I wondered if my marriage to Ginger was slipping away. For her to put me through this without advance warning might be the first sign. The music did help pass away the time, for some reason they played all of my favorites from the fifties and sixties. A little while later Ginger came back on the PA asking if everybody was having fun. The amount of cheering and shouting kind of pointing to that conclusion.

“Now it is time to give you the latest results of our election of options for Joy. First is the option to allow her to return to the role of a male. That option received fifteen votes. Second option is to continue in the role of a female for at least a year. That option received thirty-two votes. Third and last option is for Joy to live and work as a female for the rest of her life. That option received one hundred and fifty-one votes. It is not looking good for Joel here. Be sure you get your vote in, only three more hours before the ballot box is sealed. I know there is plenty of room in the ballot box for lots of votes, so do not disappoint Joy tonight. She really needs your guidance here. Oh, don’t forget to make a contribution to one of her charities and pick out some specific options for her new appearance. I am sure she will appreciate your input.”

I heard her give the vote totals, the last option would have made my legs collapse if not for me being secured to the damn pole. I wonder what would happen if I fainted, a distinct possibility if this continues on. Even if I could somehow get loose, the height of the dais would keep me confined here unless I wanted to risk a broken neck, fifteen feet is pretty high for a swan dive.

Then as suddenly as those thoughts appeared I couldn’t hear anything. Silence, total silence. I looked at the crowd, still seeing people talking but I couldn’t hear anything. Than another minute later I heard the music come back on, but no other sounds. There must be something in my ears preventing me from hearing only what she wants me to hear. Shit after hearing about what people were voting on and now to be shut off from any more information that is so cruel. It was like those options were now embedded in my mind, unable to escape, but occupying every square inch of my thought processes.

Time seemed to crawl along, I had no idea if it was an hour later or just a minute. Images of me as a female kept popping up, getting dressed, doing my makeup, fixing my hair, dancing in my heels, each minute saw more images appear to tease me, frustrate me and drive me nuts. I closed my eyes trying to slip off to some kind of restless sleep to help make the time pass, but even that was denied me. After an eternity the lift was brought back in, I only realized it when someone touched my arm. I was undone and carried to the lift and lowered to the floor.

I was taken to a room not far away and untied. Everything but the damn gag. Some water was squirted into my mouth around the gag, with me swallowing it as fast as I could. Whoever was squirting the water was giving it to me slowly, a few squirts at a time. That water tasted so good, I guess thinking and fear make you extremely thirsty. Even though I was unfettered it took some time before feeling returned to my hands and feet. Then Ginger helped me remove the contact lenses, the source of my fuzzy vision. Finally I felt something removed from my ears, two quite good sized ear plugs, quite capable of rendering me unable to hear anything, but containing small speakers so I could hear when turned on.

She leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “You have been so good, now some time dancing and then I will see to your care and explain what has happened tonight. Please be gracious all of these dance partners have paid handsomely for the privilege. She touched up my makeup, spritzed some more perfume on me and I was led to my first dance partner for the evening.

I smiled it was George, the reporter for the local newspaper and contributor for the state paper when called for. I opened up my mouth some so he could see the gag, he smirked but still took me in his arms, as we danced out to the center of the floor. I was still trying to lead, an old habit when he gave me a peck on the lips and just like that I was a female following his every step. He pulled me in a little closer to him and I relaxed in his arms.

Apparently anybody who had paid to dance with me got two songs worth of time, the next partner coming to me as my previous partner gave me a kiss and left. I was told by George I would be front page tomorrow in several newspapers, my image on the dais magical.

I will have to admit I did enjoy the dancing, not realizing till later how many had paid for the privilege. Truth be known I enjoyed the kisses as well. I am sure Ginger noticed that fact, as she was watching me every time I raised my head to see where she was at. As the last dance partner left me on the floor, Ginger showed up taking me in her arms and kissing me passionately. I will have to admit her kiss was the best, also the longest lasting. As we broke the kiss I used my tongue to slide over my lips, wanting to be sure I savored every drop of her essence for later. We didn’t dance, just stood there enjoying the lip lock.

I guess the ball was over as I got hugged, kissed and even a few gropes as quite a few people said goodbye and left. I was still out in the middle of the dance floor when I looked up and saw the sign with my options listed and the vote total next to each option. When I got down to option three I fainted, my legs giving away.

Apparently a few males that worked for us came to help Ginger get me to our offices that were located in the adjoining building. When I came to I was laying on the couch in my office, lost in thought and staring at the ceiling.

Ginger smiled at me, you are such a girl, flirting with everybody and then fainting right out on the dance floor.

“Now before you go and faint on me again I need to tell you a few things more about tonight. Incidentally the gag stays in until I get you home and undressed, it will make you listen to me and not ask forty million questions. The vote total that you saw and fainted from seeing is really how people see you these days including me.”

“Now we raised twice what I had in mind for the charities, due solely to your efforts on their behalf. The real reason for all of this was hinted at by one of our employees a few weeks ago. I was talking about you with several employees when the remark was made. “Joel is so nice, always asking about our families, our jobs and listening to us bitch about something of little consequence. The fact that we can vent our frustration to her makes the problems seem minor, allowing us to get on with our jobs. I said she because I think most of the employees see her as she is, a caring member of the female gender. I know when I saw her on the dais dressed so elegantly I was so happy for her, a chance for her to appear as her true self.”

That comment made by one of our male employees I might add. I did a little more digging finding what he said to be true, you are a female to them and they look up to you for guidance and support. When I was digging I was told of another more poignant instance of your influence and caring. You had been out walking the floor when you came upon a group of several employees gathered around a machine that had obviously quit on them.

You asked the problem then used your cell phone to call maintenance, a task that they had already done. Instead you asked how long before repairs could be accomplished, after receiving the information you suggested that they make sure their area was picked up, and supplies lined up for after maintenance gets the machine back up and running. Then you took them all to the canteen and bought them several appetizers to munch on and something to drink while they waited. You stayed with them the whole time talking with them and making them feel that they were an integral part of the business.

After maintenance called telling you the machine was fixed you went with them and watched as they resumed production. What you didn’t know was they stayed after normal quitting time making up the time lost to the machine failure. Their supervisor catching them and reminding them it was quitting time. They explained what they were doing and told her as soon as the lost production was completed they would head home.

The supervisor called me, explaining what had just happened wanting to know if I wanted her to make them quit. I smiled, no leave them alone, just make sure they leave the area ready for production tomorrow. They worked another forty minutes, cleaned the area after setting it up for the shift tomorrow. They wrote in their normal quitting time asking the supervisor to sign their time cards, hugged her and left, smiles on all of their faces. I was shown the time cards, the supervisor astonished at their behavior, and their commitment to their job.

“All of the employees are aware of Joy, they might not show it at times, but you are highly regarded and thought of quite often. I am not blind, so as I was observing and learning about you and your interaction with the employees I started noticing things about you myself. The way you approach a group of people, not the way a male would but more like a female. Not aggressive, but wanting to know if you could help, after listening to the problem you then make suggestions that might work. Never do this or that, but maybe this might be worth looking into. In short they love you, I may be the owner and manager but you are the driving force behind our success.”

“So all of this to show you what they think of you, which happens to coincide with my thoughts on the subject. I think the opinions of our employees are pretty indicative of how things should be. Therefore I am asking you to shed the male persona, embrace being Joy and be my princess for the rest of your life.”

“The employees have suggested many options for your transformation, actually forty-three options they would like to see embraced by you. I have a short list also, so you will have a lot to choose from. On the ride home I want you to think over everything I have suggested and what has happened tonight. Then after I get you naked, we will discuss your wishes for the rest of the night. I can’t wait to play with your new assets, I have been dripping wet all evening causing me to insert a tampon to keep from dripping all over the floor. Now let me remove the gag and we will head home.”

I shook my head no then held up the rope that had held my wrists together, wrapping the rope around my wrists to show her what I wanted. She gave me such a smirk, then turned me away from her and tied my forearms together behind my back ending the knots at my wrists. I was now trussed up real good as I stepped up close to her and laid my head on her shoulder. I was whisked away, having to almost run to keep up with her. I was thrown in the back seat of her car as she managed to somehow get me belted in. Getting the dress in the car was the main problem, the back seat was full as she started driving us home.

She made the trip in record time, then yanked me out of the back seat as she tried to get me loose from the seat belt. Luckily for me it came undone before she decided to sever an arm to get me in the house and to our bedroom.

Once in our bedroom she was like a female possessed as she tore my clothes off me, because of my arms being tied behind me a couple pieces of clothes ended up hanging on one arm or another. Then she worked on getting her clothes off. A quick look in the mirror before I was pushed onto the bed revealed a quite feminine figure on my previously male body, my hairless slit and two impressive breasts the most noticeable.

I was still looking at my image in the mirror as she was trying to get me on the bed. I still was trussed up the clothing pieces still hanging from one of my arms. She laid on top of me sliding one of my nipples in her mouth.

I almost came at that moment, the feelings that were penetrating every nook and cranny of my body were so intense. I tried to take in more air to get my breathing back to normal, but her fingers in my new slit and her moving her mouth over to my other nipple were not making it any easier. My heart was racing, as she worked me over real good. If this is any indication of how my life in the female gender will be, sign me up now for a lifetime membership.

Somehow I survived the night, don’t ask me how since everything that evening was just a big blur. She had gotten up before me, I was awake but still letting the memories of last night process in my mind. I was served breakfast in bed, then kissed, pushed into the bathroom for a shower then dressed in a robe and taken to the front room. On the sofa she took one of my hands and held it tightly, wanting to know of my decision. I toyed with her a little, hemming and hawing but not saying anything about my decision.

Well that didn’t last long as she figured out what I was doing and I was turned over her lap and spanked. That did surprise me, the blows I was receiving were felt, believe me. I soon gave in yelling yes over and over. I had to make a complete sentence of it stating my feminine name before I told her yes.

When I was allowed up I figured out why, she had her phone out and was recording my response. My butt was red, and she was staring at me waiting for me to say something. She repeated this is your last chance to deny my wish, kiss me if you will do as I ask.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I want to be your princess Joy to be loved and cared for by you for the rest of my life. I will try my best to take care of you, to love you and cherish you for all time.”

I leaned in to kiss her, a most wonderful and sensual kiss, when we broke the kiss sometime later, I was tingling all over. Even though I had initiated the kiss, she took over, holding my head firmly with her hands allowing me no escape. Why would I ever want to escape her loving embrace?

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Julia, A Future In Bra And Panties

My wife was acting strangely today, not entirely unusual for her, but still more noticeable than usual. She often is refereed to as a free spirit. She plans well, but when any resistance toward her plans or wishes occurs, she steamrolls right over it.

Throughout the day, I am teased, kidded, and handled at the most inopportune times. I had just emerged from the shower, a much needed one after mowing the front lawn and trimming the overgrown shrubs. With the amount of water I used there would not be much hot water left for my wife. I did feel unusually clean though.

Kathy entered the bathroom and dropped to her knees, grabbing my male appendage, lifting it to her mouth. I was so surprised I ended up unable to react. A couple of slurps and her massaging my balls and I came with such force that I filled her mouth to the brim and then some.

She hopped up, leaned in and kissed me feeding all of my cum back into my mouth. Before I could react she inserted her tongue to swish it around some then grabbed my balls again and squeezed.

I had to swallow, needing air and trying to clear my mouth of the recently deposited load of cum. The smirk was there, as she then kissed me again, making sure it was all swallowed. Then pranced off to devastate someone else. I use the word pranced because that is what she looked like as she exited the bathroom. She was sporting a huge smile as she left, and a few giggles too.

I just stood there mouth partially open, still tasting the cum on my tongue. I was trying to figure out what had gotten into her; nothing like this has ever happened before.

I never did come to any conclusion that afternoon, too may questions left unanswered. I did carefully watch her for any signs of further attacks on my persona, her little smile showing me that she was aware of what I am doing.

When it was time for bed, she pleaded with me to help her with her bath, asking me to bathe with her, washing her back and maybe if I am good her breasts too. That handled any reluctance I might have had regarding her request. Her breasts have always been an attraction for me, so plump, firm and quite desirable.

She wanted me clean first, so she fixed a scented bubble bath for me. The shower this morning was not satisfactory, in her opinion. The tub was nearly full; once I slipped in, the water came up to my neck. It felt so good, wondering why I hadn’t indulged in this before. Then, after I soaked in it for a while, she turned on the jets, and the water and bubbles were quickly swept out of the tub. More water and bubbles are added, and when partially full, she got in the tub right ahead of me.

I washed her back, then the rest of her body. I did get to wash her breasts, making sure they were thoroughly clean. Meanwhile my male thingy is poking her ass and is as hard as a rock. She giggled quite often but only twisted her tush against him making matters much worse.

The water getting cool stopped the playtime, and she got out first to dry herself off. I stayed in the tub, hoping that junior would deflate, not wanting to present myself with such a massive erection in front of her. I feared another situation like this morning, although I enjoyed it; it left me confused and nervous.

My erection did go down some, but since the tub was now empty, I had to get out. As I was drying off I suddenly came to the realization that all of my body hair was missing. I looked closer, now my skin was smooth and soft to the touch. I quickly looked her way, but one look at what she had in her hands sent me stepping back as quick as I could.

She pinned me against the vanity, slipping my arms into the straps of a bra. Turned me around and fastened the closure in the middle of my back. It fit perfectly, snug around my chest, with the straps a perfect length to position the cups of the bra directly above my nipples.

I turned back around wanting to know why she had put a bra on me. I couldn’t get the words out, though. A male seldom has to use the word 'bra' about an article of clothing on his body.

She just smiled. The bra was her idea; with me wearing it, she could feel confident that I would never forget her. A reminder of things possible when I returned to her after work. I stared at her; I didn’t think I needed a reminder about her, as I was complacent as her husband and lover, an avid one, I might add.

When I looked at her I just melted, even thinking of her at work would require me to think of something else or make a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve the tension. I am handed one of my t-shirts, which I usually wear to bed, and the conversation ended.

I managed to get my shorts up my legs, but Junior was still at half-mast, so they were tented a bit. I asked about her helping me out of the bra so I could sleep, but she just scooted closer to me and cuddled up real close. That subject is now apparently closed. It was quite a bit later that I finally succumbed to sleep, the bra’s effects on me keeping my mind in turmoil.

I had to make a trip to the bathroom early in the morning, as the floodgates could no longer hold back. As I passed the mirror on the way back to bed, my image in the t-shirt, with a bra visible underneath, was most disconcerting.

Then, to make matters worse, I stopped and admired my image, turning to get a glance from the side. I shook my head and hurried back to bed. A few hours wearing the bra and I am showing signs of a mental breakdown.

When I awoke later my wife was right against my back, her nipples trying to bore holes in my back. Her hands were around my chest, rubbing my nipples through the bra. She had eased my t-shirt up leaving the bra uncovered. God, I hope this doesn’t keep up; I will soon be a blithering idiot.

I asked her to undo the bra so I could dress for work. She just smiled, made sure the bra is adjusted correctly, and then handed me my dress shirt. The best way to handle the situation was to humor her, dress for work, and then, after I got to work, slip out of the bra.

I got the shirt on, then tried to get the buttons done up. They felt like they were reversed, making it almost impossible for me to get the button through the hole, at least for me.

She did up the buttons for me, then laid down the rules for the day. “You need to keep the bra on, I will be by sometime today to check on your compliance. If you are out of the bra I will undress you right in front of everybody and correct the situation.”

“The shirt is a ladies blouse, thin and lacy, so you might want to keep your sport coat on for most of the day, the bra clearly showing through the blouse. However, that decision is up to you.”

She added the matching pair of panties to my lingerie for the day, the silky feeling of them against my skin causing even more reactions from below. After pulling my pants up, she reached in and made sure my thingy is energized, then left to get dressed herself, giggling away. Believe me, Junior was already coming around, not needing a kick start from her.

I made sure I had my keys and wallet, then made a hasty exit, fearing that if I stayed much longer, some additional piece of female clothing might be added to my outfit for the day.

At work, I was on pins and needles, worrying if the sport coat was enough to hide the fact that I was wearing a bra and a ladies blouse underneath. Several times I wanted to take my jacket off, as the office was warmer than usual today. I suffered through; hoping I may be spared an inspection from Kathy today.

No sooner had that thought appeared in my mind than my wife had showed up. Walking over to my desk, she gave me a sizzling kiss, and then sauntered away. Her hands were not involved in the kiss instead they were checking if I still had my bra on. Then, just like that, she left me, stopping to say something to my boss before skipping out of the office.

I buried my head in my work, not wanting to see if anybody was staring at me, most of all my boss. She was always on us to keep busy, never allowing any goofing off in the office at any time. Somehow I made it to quitting time only to be told by my boss to stay for a minute, she needed to talk to me.

I sat back down in my chair hard. this can’t be good; no telling what Kathy mentioned to her when she was here. Every one filed out, several of the females giggling as they left. Greta asked me to come into her office, her door already open. She pointed to a chair directly in front of her desk, as I made my way to it. I eased my body down in the chair, then crossed my legs like a female would. I wasn't sure why I did that; nerves, I guess.

She started praising my work, proud that I was finally getting the hang of it. She is going to make me her PA, starting tomorrow. Your desk is located right outside my office. You work Monday through Friday from 8:00 AM. to 6:00 PM..

You will handle all my correspondence, company emails and schedule appointments as needed. No need to wear a coat and tie, but still dress business like. You will receive a raise and a bonus for your exemplary work over the past few weeks. Do you have any questions? If not, I will see you in the morning.

As I rose to leave she complimented me on my choice of bras today, the one you have on now quite pretty. The blouse is nice too, but a little more color might look better on you. I stopped and stared at her, my mouth open wide and nothing but air coming out of it.

I caught myself and hurried out of her office; the sooner I got away from her, the sooner I could figure out what had just happened. When she first commented on my bra I looked at my sport coat to see if it had come open, exposing my unmentionables. Nope, still buttoned up, but how did she know I'm wearing one?

Then the light came on Kathy must have told her when she stopped and talked to her. Now what am I going to do about tomorrow? Once home, I had to tell Kathy about what my boss told me. She listened intently; somehow, what I said was not a surprise to her. She did tell me that with this new information, I could now do away with the sport coat. A lovely blouse will be quite sufficient for now.

Mouth open, suck in a large amount of air and suddenly all of this came crashing down on me. Wearing a bra even with a colored blouse will most likely not cover up the fact that I am wearing one. I doubt she plans on allowing me to work without a bra, so tomorrow will ultimately be a huge disaster.

Maybe my boss is alright with me wearing a bra, but the female employees likely to have a ball with that fact. If it was supporting something things might be different, but the cups are nearly empty on the bra I had on today.

I was leaking tears, alright I was visibly crying, to be humiliated at work, maybe even get fired and then there is the relationship between Kathy and I. All of this is affecting our relationship, leaving me unsure if there is still one between us at this point. I was pulled into a huge hug, as she forced my head down on her shoulder. She just held me tight, kissing my ears and cheek when the mood suited her.

Then she raised my head, telling me she will make sure I have a new bra for tomorrow, one that is lacy and down right gorgeous. I did raise my head a little to see if she was serious, but a kiss on my eyelid ended that action abruptly.

I was kept close, never more than a few feet from her for the rest of the evening. I was put to bed later, in no condition to argue with her on the early bedtime.

Cuddled all night, her death grip on me keeping me next to her, the bra still embracing my body. In the morning, while I was getting ready for work, she arrived with several new pieces of clothing in her hands.

My bra, which I had been wearing for the last few days, was removed, and then the bra for today is slid over my arms. It was indeed gorgeous, bright red and covered in lace. I just stood there as it was fastened in the back, not knowing what to do or say.

I immediately thought of the color, it would be hard to hide under any color blouse. She had meanwhile come around to stand in front of me, using her hands to reach into the cups of the bra and lift any excess skin. Once she had done that to both cups she stood back and smiled.

I looked down and, for the first time, I saw the cups almost full, with even a little bit of skin peeking out from the lace edge of the cup. Gawd, I now have breasts.

A hundred questions came to mind immediately; were they always there? Did I suddenly grow a pair? Did wearing a bra yesterday cause this? Those questions, and many more, invaded what is left of my overloaded mind.

She had left me to my introspection returning a few minutes later with my blouse, a light pink concoction, frilly and almost see-through. The red bra would show through, that is for sure, but more importantly that the cups of the bra are supporting breasts. I was already planning to skip work, which would probably be a disaster anyway you look at it.

No, that line of thought not in the cards. As she gathered all her things and her purse, she came by me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me along behind her.

“Don’t worry I will take you to work, then pick you up after you finish for the day. She was halfway to my work when I realized I didn’t have my wallet, ID, or anything else. I mentioned it to her, hoping she would take me back home to retrieve it. Nope, not happening today.

She stopped right in front of our offices, reached into her purse and extracted a lipstick and applied it to my lips, then back in her purse for some cash for my lunch. Both of these items were placed in a small clutch and handed to me.

I was kissed lightly on the lips, since she didn’t want to smudge my lipstick. She unlocked the doors and I was pushed to get out. I stood up, frozen in place, as she drove off, leaving me there alone, looking more female than male.

I decided that being inside might be preferable to standing out here, so I made my way into the offices and then to my new desk. A name plate was in position on the corner of my new desk, an addition since last night. My name in this weird scenario is now Julia, at least it sounded a little like my old name, Jules.

Greta my boss did check on me, making sure I was in place as her PA. I received a smile after she perused me, apparently I had pleased her with my appearance today. It took me a while to get my bearings, sign on to the computer, and locate the necessary items to complete her tasks for the day.

By lunch I had handled most of the backlog of work and was working on her schedule for the remainder of the week. I was still somewhat lost and frazzled, so I decided to skip lunch, unsure if my stomach was calm enough to handle food just yet.

She did call me into her office later in the day, asking me what I had accomplished and what still needed to be done. Since I was temporarily caught up, this pleased her immensely.

Before I left she asked if I could embrace the female clothes and hair a little more tomorrow, not a requirement but something that would make her happy. She suggested the Turnabout Gurl Salon to handle my hair and makeup, advising me to call to make an appointment this afternoon. I nodded my head, but couldn’t find the words to express myself. I called the salon when I returned to my desk and scheduled a 9:00 a.m. appointment for both of my needs for tomorrow morning.

That afternoon sitting at my desk, I was thinking of what tomorrow might be like if this keeps escalating. I'm sure Kathy would be enthusiastic, but I'm not sure what I want or can tolerate.

Then I realized that Kathy would ensure I was entirely female in appearance, the sooner the better. All I had to do was stand there and let it happen. Wrong choice of words; I doubt that even if I had objected, the eventual outcome would have been any different.

Julia is here now and will not be leaving anytime soon. I suppose it could be worse; the clothes aren't that bad. My coworkers acceptance of me as one of their own that day, with the red bra and pink blouse, was surreal. The girls complimented me on them and suggested a dress that might go along with those items. They quietly told me to use the ladies' bathroom, a much better choice than using the old, nasty men’s bathroom.

The next morning was unusual; the Turnabout Gurl Salon transformed my hair into a work of art, with curls everywhere and now sporting blonde highlights throughout. It took them over two hours to apply makeup to my face, and the fact that it was semi-permanent was not disclosed until they were adding lipstick to my now plump lips.

When I made the appointment yesterday I didn’t have any idea what I was agreeing to. I was trying to appease my boss and get my hair and makeup done as she requested.

A look in the mirror in front of me displaying a very feminine look, not a smidgen of any masculinity showing anywhere.

All of this is not my choice for my future, but one that I could put up with, it all starting with me wearing a bra every day. Then I thought of the gorgeous red lacy bra I had on today, and the extra attention I received every night from Kathy, yeah I can deal with this somehow. A bra and pantie every day now, apparently, in my future for this Gurl. Add in dresses, makeup and heels and I am now set for life.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Lynnette; Following Her Lead

I earn my living as a dance instructor, not my first choice, but the choice that pays the bills. I would much rather make my living writing, but so far no publisher has shown any interest in anything I put a pen to.

The dance instructor job came as a result of a college friend that got into a bind. Lynn had started the dance school to help pay her way through college. It did that and a little bit more, and after graduation she decided to see if it could provide a living for her full time.

It started off with a bang, Lynn winning a local dance contest, giving her school a leg up with regards to the competition. She hired additional instructors, and soon had customers. Lynn was always a good dancer, her mom giving her the education in all forms of dance when she was younger.

Her Mother was a co-owner in a national chain of dance studios. Unfortunately, her mother never lived long enough to see her daughter excel at what she learned.

My involvement came about when a couple of her instructors, were hired away by the competition. One competitor, in particular, had in for Lynn, wanting to bankrupt her school before she took all the business away from them. Lynn had a much more pleasant personality and is good with people, making her popular with her students. Just to be in her company is uplifting.

We had met in college, at a mixer. Both of us freshmen, both of us new to the school and knowing no one, we somehow found each other. We danced that night till they closed the place, just happy to be with each other.

I started out life with the name of Jess, although the few friends I had over the years quickly morphed that into Jessie. Lynn was no different, the second time we met that became my new name, and she never did call me Jess the entire time we spent in college. I was short for a male, about an inch or two shorter than Lynn, but probably weighed twenty pounds lighter than she did, since a female never discusses her weight we will never know for sure if that is true.

Nothing more serious ever happened between us, although we attended several dances together each year. My dancing ability coming to me, courtesy of my mother, although she wasn’t near as qualified as Lynn’s mother. I could do the basic dances, nothing fancy, but my downfall is that I enjoy dancing. It is fun and exciting, and getting caught up in the music and twirling around the floor is what life is all about for me.

By now you have probably figured out that we are not talking about any of the modern dances. This is ballroom dancing in all its glory. You actually hold your partner, interacted with them, and the two of you make a couple that performed the dance. In my opinion, standing opposite a partner, gyrating in a non-musical maneuver, can’t ever be called dancing.

Anyway, she needed an instructor to help fill the gap till she could hire some more instructors, with my name at the top of the list. We had lost contact with each other after graduation, but I still lived in town, so she eventually tracked me down. I was working temporarily at a retail store, seasonal help, for three weeks. When she called, she asked if I could help her out. I told her that I am not a qualified instructor, as she knows, but I would help her any way that I could.

We met the next day at her studio, and she ran down what my duties would be. I would be teaching females the basic steps, maybe dancing a few dances with the better ones when they learned the basics. It was all one on one training, not group classes.

My skills would be adequate for this, and she hoped to be able to hire a couple more instructors in a week or two. She had me dance a couple of dances with her, this time with me following. Up to this time I had always led, a normal male dance position. Lynn wanted me to have a little experience following so that I could show my students the basic female steps.

She put some music on, and we started dancing, the steps came to me naturally, and we danced around the studio for several hours. We did Fox Trots, Tangos, some Quicksteps, but mostly Waltzes. She remarked several times about my ability, fascinated that I could dance so well in the female role. My first student was the next day after work; I had only two more days of my seasonal work, and then I would be once again without a paying job.

After my first student, Lynn asked if I would consider being a full-time employee for her since I did so well with that student. “I will think about it, my dream of working as a writer still holding that prized first spot.”

At the weekend, reality had descended on me again, and I told her I would accept. Nothing had changed, but that was the problem, three more publishers had returned the manuscripts with rejection letters, one I don’t think even looked at the offering.

At the studio, I am scheduled for four to five students a day, each session usually two hours, with the more advanced limited to one hour sessions. Eight to ten hours a day, with me being paid by the type of instruction I gave. I was bringing in one hundred to one hundred fifty dollars a day with ease, most of the students were pleasant and easy to get along with. Lynn was ecstatic with my help; she never did hire any other instructors.

Her primary competitor soon went belly up, giving us, even more, business. She ended up doing a group basic dance step class, then me doing the individual classes from there on. Things progressed from there as she slowly added a few more students to the school. She did, however, see that we had saturated the market, teaching most of the people that wanted to learn to dance in the area.

She feared a downturn in the business level and four months later, it appeared. She was planning for this in the back of her mind, having a thought or two as to what she could do to keep herself financially secure. I was not aware of her plans, or that I would be included in those plans.

She gradually laid off two of her other instructors, as the business dwindled she would let them go when there was not enough to keep them busy. She kept the two female instructors she first started with, however, wanting them to keep the school going as she moved on to other pursuits. More and more she spent time with me dancing in the studio, sometimes late into the evening, always with her leading.

I had a feeling that something had changed, but I loved to dance so I kept the comments to myself. Then when I had danced my last scheduled class with any students, she told me her plans.

The plans were disclosed over dinner at her house, which was attached to the dance studio. When I saw the bottle of wine, I knew that I would be wined and dined to get my approval for whatever she had planned. The standing rib roast, a good indication of the degree that she sought my approval. The meal is delicious; she admitted that she hadn’t cooked it, dancing is her forte, not cooking.

We sipped wine looking at the stars as we sat on her patio. It is a beautiful night, stars seeming to populate every square inch of the nighttime sky. Finally, I asked her what she wanted to talk about; I could see the difficulty she is having in getting the conversation started, and I tried to make her at ease.

“I trust you Lynn, that whatever you have in mind, I will listen to, and most likely agree to your request.”

The biggest smile came onto her face, and I knew that I had stepped into it big time. She dragged me back inside and hit the remote on the TV, and a video started playing of a couple dancing a Strauss waltz. The dress the female is wearing is gorgeous, one of the prettiest I had ever seen, but the couple’s ability is not quite up to the level of a serious dance enthusiast. I noticed the dress because it was cut very provocatively, not the usual dance contest dress.

Lynn asked me if I noticed anything different about the couple. Other than the dress I didn’t see anything unusual or different. She played it one more time, and then I noticed the effeminate appearance of the male partner.

“The video was at a dance contest nearby, at a club where this type of dance contest is gaining popularity. Now the bigger dance organizations are taking notice and are going to start a national tour featuring this type of contest. They already have fifteen stops scheduled, with minimal prizes of one thousand dollars for the winning couple in each of three different dance competitions. The Waltz, the Tango, and the Foxtrot are the three primary dances they are going to feature.”

“The competitions are called the Turnabout, with the roles of the dancers reversed. The male dances the female role in costume, and the female dances the male role in a tux. To jazz it up the dresses the male in the female role, wears are more provocative, downright sexy.”

“The competitions are gaining in popularity, playing to packed clubs in few towns already. Since a certain individual is so good at dancing the female part, I wondered if this contest might have an interest for you. I still have all my mother’s competition dresses, neatly packed away in storage. Most of them can be altered to enhance the sex appeal, and since they are all considered retro, they would be a natural for this type of contest.”

“Incidentally, you and she are almost the same size so they should all fit you with a minimum of alteration. The dresses are very feminine, perfect for this type of contest.” I had listened to all she had said but didn’t know about participating in this crazy idea.

I never had dressed in my mother’s clothes, although one Halloween I did go as a fairy princess. The second fact is I had never had a serious relationship with a female, in fact, Lynn would probably qualify as a one and only date. It is not like I don’t want a relationship, it just doesn’t come easy for me. Lynn wanted me to think about it; she knew that it was pushing the limits that I would feel comfortable with, but the money is too good for the idea to be discarded without an attempt to see if it is doable.

I asked her some questions, about how I am to appear, what would be required to handle the impersonation. The answers are not what I was expecting, the degree that I would have to live as a female much more than I would have liked.

The discussion ended that night when she told me there is a contest in the next town, about fifty miles away. She suggested that we enter and that I get transformed into a female for the dance. We try it out, both the impersonation and the dance to see if it is something we can handle. Then decide if it is to become a way of life for a while.

Nervously I agreed to the trial, getting a bonus hug and kiss from Lynn. She had made an appointment at a salon in town that did these type of transformations regularly, for tomorrow. After I was the correct gender looks wise, we would select a dress that is appropriate, maybe two, and then she would have them altered to fit the contest better. The contest is in three days, so not too much time for me to over think things. The one thing that I had to start on immediately is learning to maneuver in heels.

She went to her closet, returning with a five-inch heel with ankle straps. She smoothed a knee high up my foot after she had removed my socks. She eyed the heels, and then my pant legs, I guess figuring that I would not be able to get the pants off with the heels in place.

She had me stand up, unbuttoned my pants and slid them down my legs. Before I realized what she was doing, I was naked from the waist down except for my boy shorts.

The heels are slipped on, the fit is perfect, and I suspected some advanced planning since it is obvious that Lynn and I are not the same shoe size. She fastened the ankle straps, and I heard two distinct clicks. I looked down, and the shoes are locked onto my feet.

I looked up at her, giving her an evil eye, but she denied any wrongdoing, the fact is that you need to get used to the heels. That means that you stay in them until the contest. Don’t think of trying to cut them off; those shoes cost over five hundred dollars, and I will hurt you severely if you damage them in any way.

I asked the obvious, “Do I wear them to bed?”

“Yes, you stay in those heels until the dance contest.” I looked down at my lack of pants, pointed to that area. She came up to me, gave me a big hug, and told me I had two options, one she would lend me a skirt so that I could go home; the other is you stay here for the next few days. I smiled at her; she obviously has had this planned for longer than I had thought.

I presumed that I would be on my feet for the next few days, I should say heels since they seem to be a part of my outfit for the foreseeable future. I am not sure if I shared her gung-ho attitude, about the dance competitions, partly due to the level of involvement on my part. I guess it is worth a try, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I only wish my writing had some chance of being a success, every day I was more aware of it being wasted time and effort.

Seeing me as a female in a turnabout dance competition, is far fetched, but I presume not as out there as myself as a top selling author. If the disguise is good enough, I might be spared a lot of embarrassment, if not, no telling what humiliation I might have to endure. It is a small town, a lot of people know me, especially since I have been helping Lynn in the dance studio.

She shared her bed with me, telling me that she has had all her shots, besides we had lots to do in the next few days, thus no time to fool around. I was offered an oversize T-shirt to wear for pajamas, and two pillowcases were slid over my heels to prevent damage to the heels and bed.

According to Lynn, the heels were Jimmy Choo’s, the best in female foot apparel available. The heels were quite comfortable, even though my feet are pointed like I am standing on my toes. It only took me about twenty minutes to get accustomed to walking in them.

Of course, Lynn is in awe of my ability to walk in the five-inch heel. I visited the bathroom, then slid my feet into bed. The pillowcases made it easier to get comfortable as the heels slid on the sheets. I received a passionate kiss, and Lynn thanked me for at least giving it a try.

Shortly after getting into bed, she cuddled my back, with her arm over my side with her hand on my breast. I laid there staring at the ceiling for a while but soon lost consciousness, with only the alarm the next morning making me stir. I made my way to the bathroom. A very necessary task for me in the morning then sat on the toilet to remove the pillowcases and perform my daily ablutions.

Lynn had made her way to the kitchen and made coffee and had sliced some fruit and had some toast ready. I usually do not eat much in the morning but with no idea what is on the day’s agenda, decided to make an exception today. I was given a skirt to wear today, along with a cami top.

When she caught my stare as I looked at the clothing that had been handed me, she told me that “you will have a coat to wear over them, the salon is only two blocks away, and very few people are out this early in the morning.”

I was going to ask just what is going to be done to me but decided that for the impersonation to be perfect, it would require me to be a female. To minimize any humiliation with regards to me, I was more than willing for the transformation to be nearly perfect. That would be much better than being laughed at.

That pretty much handled what is going to be done to me; they were going to transform me into a female, a sexy one if Lynn is going to use the provocative costumes. I put on the clothes and Lynn took my hand, and we are on our way. When she closed and locked her door, an extra wave of nausea washed over me. I was out in public dressed as a woman, with a minimum of clothes on, and I am scared to death.

We walked to the salon, and I was surprised at how little attention I had received. At the front desk, Lynn told them my name and that I had an appointment for the works. Since we are entering the turnabout dance contests, we decided to use each other’s name. I should add that Lynn decided that we use each other’s name, although I could see no problem with it.

Lynn is sometimes a guy’s name so that I would be spared some embarrassment. But the real Lynn thought her full name would be so much better, so now I am officially Lynnette.

At the salon, a gorgeous blonde came up to the front after being called by the receptionist. She introduced herself as Mary, a transformation specialist for Turnabout Gurl.

Now, how do I describe the salon, it dripped femininity from any angle. The colors in the salon were all pinks and pastels, the drapes were light pink sheers, pulled back with Burgundy ribbons. All of the beauty equipment is polished chrome, that and all the mirrors made a bright and shiny appearance. The cushions on the chairs are upholstered in a pink leather, quite attractive, and I may add comfortable.

Mary’s uniform is a Lolita-like dress, very short with lacey petticoats underneath. The neckline is rounded with almost nothing restraining her breasts from escaping the confines of her dress. Her heels are stilettos, five inches tall, with two narrow straps holding them on her feet. Unlike me, her shoes are not locked on. Of course, stockings are worn, attached to a garter belt that peeked out every once in a while from underneath all of the petticoats. Her hair is an up do with tendrils of curls over each ear. Like I said the place dripped femininity.

She grabbed my hand and led me back to a treatment room; Lynn wished me luck, telling me that she would pick me up at five tonight. I gave her the deer in the headlight look; that is seven hours from now, and I silently prayed to whoever to save me from my apparent fate.

My prayers are not answered, and fifteen minutes later I am naked and lying on the table to be waxed. Mary is a skilled professional, making quick work of what little body hair I possessed. Somewhere in the initial meeting the key to my shoe locks was given to Mary, so they were now sitting to the side waiting for my transformation to be completed.

No area left untouched, from my eyebrows to my toenails, I am smooth and feminine. Next, she rearranged me on the table, placing my feet in some attachments on the end of the table. She placed straps around my ankles and moved the stirrups as far apart as possible, stepping into the space between my legs she sprayed a liquid on my groin, shortly after that there was no feeling.

She started doing away with my male organs, twisting and pushing until they were positioned where she wanted them. It took her about an hour to do the manipulation and place the prosthetic over my male area, creating a truly feminine looking vulva in the process.

I wondered why I had to have a vulva since I would always be wearing a dress for the competition. Another question for Lynn tonight. I am curious as to the necessity of having a vagina, but the thought never occurred to me to ask before my equipment is nestled behind a very female pair of lips.

Mary placed a couple of fairly heavy silicone blobs on my chest and marked their proper location. Then glue was added and allowed to get tacky. Then she turned the breast form inside out and placed a small recession in the back of the form over my nipple. She pushed down fairly hard to assure contact and adhesion. After fifteen seconds, she released the hold and positioned the rest of the breast form over my chest being sure to match the markings she had placed on my chest.

She added a little more glue to the edges of the form and smoothed the tapered edge with her finger. I had to lift my head to see the finished product; they were moving like they are made of Jell-O, always in motion. Then in between my two new mounds I caught a glimpse of my vulva, now there was no doubt as to my sex, female all the way. I knew that my few male features on the rest of my body would only enhance the feminine look.

Before Mary moved on to other things she closed the door to the treatment room and asked me to pinch my nipples, I did and let go of them fast, like they were red hot. I could feel the pinch like the nipple is actually mine. Next, she asked me to probe my new vulva, being careful not to scratch my insides with my fingernail.

She supplied some lube, then watched me as I probed with my finger. My index finger was about half way in when I touched something that sent waves of pleasure through my body. Mary stated that the appliance would allow intercourse, as long as the partner is not super-endowed. That was information that I am not sure I needed to be informed of. I don’t think that I would ever contemplate having sex with a male, whether I looked like a female or not.

Next comes my hair; it is shampooed and conditioned, and then dye added to convert my hair color to a strawberry blonde. Three new holes in each ear are added two studs, and a long dangly hoop is inserted into the new holes. All of this for a trial run for this new type of dance contest?

Once the dye had thoroughly processed, it is rinsed out, and a conditioner is used on me. Then back in the styling chair and she sectioned and combed out my new blonde hair. Each section is carefully cut, her aim is to create a curly up do, something perfect for dancing and quite retro. Once the cut is finished, she started winding my hair on rollers. In less than thirty minutes, my head had over sixty rollers on it. The rollers are all sizes with larger ones on the top of my head and smaller ones near my neckline.

A dryer is rolled over and the next hour is spent with the warm air cascading over my head. I nearly dozed off a couple of times, but half way through that hour Mary came back pushing a cart loaded with nail polish and manicuring supplies. She placed both my hands into bowls of liquid, letting them soak while she got ready to finish my hair.

As she started removing the rollers she told me that she had used their special setting lotion, a fairly new development of Turnabout Gurl. After just one use, to renew the curl only required the spraying of water on the hair. The curl would instantly reform and then using only warm heat the hair can be dried. Once dried the curls can be brushed out into the proper style.

I managed to see the implications of this; I was stuck with a feminine head of curls until the setting lotion finally quit working. This experiment is supposed to be for only one dance, to see if the idea might be feasible. Now destiny seems to have interceded, and there may be many dances in the future as a female. That is particularly relevant since I had breasts and a vagina.

The nails are next, after receiving a manicure, Mary applied extensions to each of my fingernails. One look at the extensions and I will not be writing for quite some time. They extended an inch past my fingertips, seems like dancing as a female might be the only thing I am capable of in the near future. It certainly won’t be doing anything with my hands. I received a dark Burgundy polish after a base coat had been applied. Then that is finished off with two more coats of color than a high gloss topcoat. My nails sparkled like beacons, flashing color with every hand movement.

Mary cleaned up the manicuring supplies then repositioned me in the styling chair. The chair is leaned back some, and she applied a cleansing mask to my face. That stayed on for twenty minutes; then she rubbed cream into my beard area. The fact that she used gloves to apply the cream should have given me a hint of what the cream could do, but being a male did leave me at a mental disadvantage.

That last cream stayed on for thirty minutes while she worked on my eyebrows. I was surprised that there were any eyebrows left after her attack. When I am finally allowed to see my image, there is a two hair wide pencil thin arch above each eyebrow, and that is it.

As I am trying to take in the appearance of my eyebrows she is telling me that I no longer had to shave, the cream effectively killing off the hair roots. I wasn’t particularly fond of shaving anyway, but to be told that I would not have a beard ever is shocking. That and my eyebrows made it quite clear, my life as a female has begun in earnest.

In a way, I hoped that Lynn’s idea for the dance competitions is going to work out since I doubt that I could return to my former life or any part thereof in the future. I kept glancing in the mirror throughout the day, and each treatment left me more feminine. The male me is gone, I think for good. Even if I started dressing like a male, it would be months before the image matched the gender, if ever.
Next is makeup; Mary rolled over a cart with every conceivable cosmetic known to man, that should be woman. She tried different shades to get my colors, then showed me how to apply them. Several times she had me start over until she was finally happy with my efforts. The nails added quite a bit of difficulty to the task of applying makeup. The elegant tips making any use of my hands almost useless, especially eyeliner and mascara. I had to learn to use the pads of my fingers to grab anything, the extensions even made approaching something difficult. I did manage to somehow get makeup on me, but realized I would have to practice quite a bit to be able to do it in a reasonable amount of time.

Then the last time she showed me how to remove the makeup for bed then had me reapply the whole concoction again. Of course, Lynn took that moment to show up, standing out of my sight as I applied the cosmetics to my face. When I finished, she came over to compliment me on my skills and give me a hug. No kissing, since it would smudge my lipstick. I was lost in my thoughts, a tender kiss might be nice though and sorely needed right now.

Mary said that I am finished for the day, I looked around for my clothes, but they were not where I had left them. Lynn handed me a bag; your clothes are here. I looked in the bag, a little leery of what I would find, and true to my hunch, the clothes within are all female. I looked into the mirror; the body is now female, I guess the clothes should fit the body. I am helped into the feminine items, some of which I hadn’t seen on any female that I had ever dated.

Panties first, then a bra, followed by a camisole. The first time a male wears a bra, it seems to feminize him. There is really no individual item of a female’s lingerie that so personifies a woman as a brasserie. As I slipped my arms into the straps, it was like I was surrendering to the female gender. Then, when Lynn helped me lean forward to get my breasts in the cups, then fasten the clasp in back, it was the final step in the gender change.

Lynn couldn’t be practical and bring me some pants or, at least, a pair of shorts; no she decided I need a dress. The dress had a fitted bodice, with a full skirt that swished against my legs as I moved around. My heels are still with me, a constant reminder of my commitment to this crazy idea, but I seldom thought of them anymore since I had become used to them on my feet. We left the salon, with me being told to be back tomorrow for a lesson in female deportment and in how to manage my hair.

The walk back to the studio is uneventful but filled with lots of new feelings. The jiggling of my breasts in their bra, the feel of the earrings as the one pair swayed against my neck. All of this and more making me acutely aware of my new gender.

I am now Lynnette, a female in all things I do, and a female in all of my thoughts and actions. My right hand reached for my swaying skirt to hold down the hem, my other hand to my side, although a little further out to allow for my wider hips, that courtesy of some hip padding added to the panties I had been coerced into wearing.

The biggest difference is in my perception of where I am and of how seemingly all male attention is focused on me. Every male we passed seemed to take in my appearance, forming some kind of opinion of me as they passed. Lynn assured me that they were admiring my looks and whether they had a chance with me. That thought caused shivers up and down my spine. The sad truth is that I now will be a focus of that male attention whether I wished it or not.

When we got to the studio, Lynn set up some music, and she took my hands and started dancing. It was different from how we danced with me in male clothing. I am dancing in female mode, but the dynamics of the situation have changed. My breasts, the lack of a male organ between my thighs and the numerous feelings from my now feminine clothing made the dancing so different.

I was in another world, following Lynn’s lead and the music made me dance like I hadn’t a care in the world. I was free, allowing my feminine feelings to guide me around the dance floor.

When the music stopped, Lynn kissed me on the lips, complimenting me on my dancing. As she put it, we floated around the dance floor as a couple, a couple in love moving as one.

Now I am sure you have a lot of questions as to why there were several things done to you that you felt were not necessary. You are a sensuous person and with the changes made to you today, the feminine instincts came to the forefront, allowing you to immerse yourself in the female gender. Thus, your dancing has become fantastic. We spent, at least, another hour practicing, although with our previous practice it is more getting comfortable in our new roles.

The heels did become painful after that extra hour, but after being able to sit for a while, it is livable with. She is ecstatic at my progress, feeling that we had a good chance to win at least one event this weekend. It had been a long day, experiencing a lot of things that I have never dealt with before.

Tonight when she spooned my back, her hand found a sizable breast to massage and hold. It did feel good, but I am quite conflicted, not knowing how I should react to the feelings. Lynn did buy me some more heels, all expensive brands that fitted me comfortably, mostly four and five inch heels. Luckily not with locks.

The first few steps out of the heels made my situation very clear. I was walking on my toes, to keep the pain from my calves down. My tendons had tightened in the last couple of days, now to be comfortable walking I would require some type of heel.

I noticed that with all the dancing with me in the female role I started to act more submissive. When Lynn brought something up, I acquiesced instead of offering an alternative or telling her no. Nothing bad happened because of my submissiveness, but it is a noticeable change in my demeanor.

I woke early, making us some hot cocoa, and oatmeal. Lynn joined me as soon as she smelled the chocolate. We stayed up, even though my appointment is, at least, three hours away.

As I am learning to handle my hair and become a proper young lady, Lynn is going to go through her Mother’s dresses and select some that might fit the type of dancing we were going to do. Although it is extra work, she suggested that I change dresses for each different type of dance. Some of the other contestants in other local competitions had not done so, maybe costing them a chance for finishing higher in the competition.

The happenings at the salon are easier to handle today, the deportment lessons basically just common etiquette. Ballroom dancing involved some of these already, so it is not a stretch for me to master them fairly quickly.

Doing my hair, that is a totally different situation. If my nails were of a sensible length, I might have been able to get by, but since I had the ultimate in feminine nails, I learned the steps to get my hair looking proper but was unable actually to do it myself. Mary assured me that after a few days, I would be able to style my own hair. Lynn decided to use the salon’s services instead until I could do the styles myself.

That night more dancing to several different songs, most of the time I managed to lose myself in the number, dancing away like I had been doing it all my life. Lynn did have me try on her mother’s dresses, six in total and of those she selected three that would be perfect for the competition. She pinned some alterations she wanted to have done, a friend of hers would have the alterations done first thing in the morning.

Two of the dresses had plunging necklines, and Lynn decided one of them should plunge a little more. A lace-up bustier, sans the straps, is the only undergarment I could wear other than panties. For one dance where she dips me and then spins me around it is decided that a little adhesive might be necessary to keep my breasts in their cups.

The day of the competition starts like a regular day, but soon my nerves and excitement get the best of me, and I lose what little I had eaten for breakfast. Lynn makes some herbal tea for me, a blend to calm me down a little. At four in the afternoon, I start to do my makeup and hair, not wanting to chance my ability to get it right the first time. Surprisingly it did come out the first time, better than I had done previously.

Lynn wanted me to do it myself, although she could help if I had trouble. The idea is that it would keep me from getting as nervous and if we are to do more competitions the practice would be valuable. She helped me with my garment bags, and we left for the club. When we arrived, we were shown to a dressing room at the back with two couples already there. One obvious female told Lynn that two female couples are not allowed, Lynn smiled, pointed to me and replied she is a male.

The lady seemed shocked but stayed, the other couple left, apparently we were too good in our roles to compete against this evening. In total, there were seven couples for the contest, although two of the couples were quite comical. I changed dresses to the first costume; then we made our way to the dance floor.

You could tell that they didn’t have this as planned as it should be, several mistakes made as the contest proceeded. It wasn’t too long before we were announced and the dance started. I surrendered myself to Lynn and just followed her lead. They did have an excellent sound system, and the music swept us away.

I thought we had messed up since it was so quiet during the dance, in these clubs usually someone is saying something or remarking about the dancers as it is going on, but not tonight, I tried to think if it was this quiet when the other dancers did their turn, but I honestly couldn’t remember. The music stopped, and it was still quiet, then as she is leading me off the floor, the applause is deafening.

The other two dances were about the same; it turned out we were the audience favorite, getting more applause than all of the other couples combined. The last costume of the evening for me is quite risqué, gaining more than a little attention from the males in the audience.

One of the judges seriously doubted our turnabout roles and asked to see some ID. He was positive that I was a real female trying to fool the judges. In a way Lynn was a little put out, he had no trouble with her being a real male, both of us out to make a quick buck. I kidded her quite a bit about that on the way back to her apartment.

We did win the contest that night, getting all of the judge’s votes including the judge that doubted that I was a male. I thought all the way to the apartment about our win, and what it meant for me. I knew Lynn would want to enter the other contests; apparently we could be successful at it, even knowing that the competition would be better in the future.

Was this what I wanted to do, though, portraying a female all the time, that part I was indecisive about?

We opened a bottle of wine and sipped it in her living room, both of us trying to get our thoughts together to talk about the future. I eventually started the conversation, asking her if she thought we could make enough money from the contests to support us. She thought we could, but where she thought we would gain the most money is from sponsorships from some of the companies doing business with the dance community.

Several of the companies doing dresses for the females would be likely candidates to use us in their advertising and furnish me with additional dresses to wear in the competition as a side benefit.

Your looks are so female, that you would be a natural for this type of ad. Once these contests pick up some more support, you will be featured on all of the dance magazine's front covers. I corrected her; we will be featured on the front covers. I ain’t doing it if you don’t, that is final. She giggled alright we will be the featured dancers on a lot of publications.

I told her that I am not that keen on the 24/7 impersonation, she nodded, but you know it can’t be turned off and on, once you start you have to keep it up, or you will be doing nothing but changing genders in you off time. I did realize that, but could I do it for the future until we found something else to do with our lives.

I told her I would think about it real hard, maybe get away for a day or two to think things through. Then I realized what I looked like; I would have to portray a female for my get away. Not my original intention, but maybe a good way to see if I can handle living the female life.

Lynn had some classes she couldn’t get away from, so I was on my own for the next few days. She did tell me that she is reserving a spot at the next Turnabout dance competition if I changed my mind she could always cancel.

I decided to visit my older sister who lived about five hours away. I called her and asked if I could hang out with her for a couple of days, her husband had just left on a business trip for three weeks, so she said come on. I packed my things and headed her way. I had to stop for fuel once and at a rest stop to use the bathroom, but nothing happened and I did use the proper facilities for my new gender.

I didn’t tell my sister I was in girl mode, not sure why I didn’t, it was in my original plan to do so. I drove up to her house and her two kids came running to the car. Both are girls, they paused to take a closer look at me then dragged me into the house, no comments, not even a slowdown in their conversation.

Betsy, my sister, however did stare. Her mouth open, then OMG emerged. I really think it took her those few moments to figure out who I was. She tried to squeeze the paste out of me, I am sure if I had been a tube of toothpaste I would now be empty. The girls helped me bring in my things, taking them to the guest room. Meanwhile, Betsy was conducting an interrogation of me.

Over the next hour I divulged all, telling her about Lynn, her ideas and what has happened over the last few months. Betsy was intrigued about the dance contests, since she had danced some in college, she knew something about it. She grabbed her local paper and scanned the local entertainment section. There at the bottom of the page is a club that advertised it was holding a turnabout competition this weekend.

Of course, Betsy wanted to go. After she got the girls to bed she moved some furniture in the living room so that we could practice some. She put on some music and dragged me to the center to dance with her.

She was pretty good, as soon as she remembered she had to lead, not as good as Lynn, but quite respectable. We danced for over an hour, only to find her girls watching us from the stairs. She again put them to bed then joined me in the kitchen. I had made us some herbal tea, I for one needed the soothing tea in my body.

We talked, I told her that was not my intention to come up here to dance more, but she gave me that puppy dog look that she is so good at, and of course I gave in. She has always had the ability to coerce me into doing whatever she wanted. The additional years have not changed anything, maybe her skill has been honed to perfection, but she will never admit to anything.

We danced some more during the day as she found a baby sitter, made the girl’s dinner and went through her closet looking for me a suitable dress to use for the competition. She found one, a few scraps of material that hardly covered anything, I was not happy about the choice, but she had used the evil eye on me all day, so I could hardly refuse her wish.

She wore an old suit of her husband’s, with her feet in a pair of penny loafers. She slicked her hair down, no makeup, and used an ace bandage to keep her sizable breasts from ruining the effect.

Of course, I had to do the whole process starting with a bath and ending walking down the stairs in five inch heels. She was pissed to the wind that I could handle the heels better than she ever did, mumbling under her breath quite often about the fact. She drove to the club, we entered and she paid the fifty dollar entrance fee. She steered me to an empty table with her hand in the middle of my back guiding me. Each couple would be called up, having to dance the song that they had been selected for.

We were about half way in the group of participants, a typical ball room waltz played as we danced around. The judges seemed impressed, their eyes never leaving our bodies. When they announced the five semifinalists we were in that group. They started playing different songs and the couples danced to the songs. After each song a couple would be eliminated, till they were only two couples left.

It took three more songs before the winner is announced, the crowd quite happy at our choice to be the winning couple. We met with the club owners, received our three hundred dollar prize, and then left after taking the time for a couple of drinks.

So when I returned home Lynn was waiting for me, shaking her head at me as I walked up to her. “So I let you go off to relax and unwind and you end up dancing again. What am I going to do with you?”

I was already red in the face, as I tried to figure out how she knew what I had done. It turns out Sis had called her, bragging to her about how good a dancer I was. I was kidded some more, her only stopping when I had told her everything about the weekend.

The next competition was two weeks away, so I practiced my hair and makeup skills as Lynn helped at the dance studio. Surprisingly she had some interest in the turnabout dances, several couples interested in learning the reversed steps, so that they could maybe enter a contest or two.

They were not out to win the competition, just wanting to have some fun doing something they would never do normally. Lynn set up a makeshift class, with her teaching the female partner to lead and I was drafted to teach the male partner how to follow. Both couples that had signed up for the class were a lot of fun, having a ball as they learned the steps.

One of the males was smaller, and would make a presentable female for the contest. The other male was taller, he looked alright dressed as a female, but his forte was his dancing. Even doing the following he was light on his feet, having fun during the entire class.

We wished them luck, they were going to attend the same competition as us, but the open part of the competition. Both couples placed, the female part of the couples quite happy at the results and their husbands participation. The smaller male had confided in me that the sex before the contest was the best of their married life.

Our part was later in the evening, this contest set up and run better, we were allowed to pick our music and we were the second couple to take to the stage. All in all there were eight couples for the Waltz portion of the contest, we made the finals, most of the other couples were competent but needed to dance some more together so the dances were more relaxed not stiff and stuffy.

They ran the qualifying round for each dance picking finalists then after all three had been staged, the final dance to pick the winner in each type of dance.

We easily took the top spot in each dance, again a Judge had doubted my gender, this time Lynn had my driver’s license and accompanying pictures for proof of my gender. I know it was getting to Lynn, I was questioned but she was not, obvious to everybody she was a female posing as a male.

This time we left with three thousand dollars in prize money, plus a reporter was there from one of the dance magazines wanting to do an article on us, and feature me on their front cover for next month’s issue.

Lynn was all for it, I had some reservations, but I did agree to the interview eventually. An hour later the reporter had the interview done with accompanying pictures of me in all three costumes used during this contest.

Lots more competitions in the following weeks, with us taking the top spots in most of them. We did have some serious competition in a couple of the contests, word getting around about the prize money offered, making more serious dancers enter the contests.

We danced in the competitions for five years, before the novelty of the contests waned, eventually ending the contests. We had put most of our prize money away for just such an occurrence, so life continued on, both of us now involved in her dance studio.

All of that time dressed and living as a female had taken its toll on me, so I continued in that role, a more natural way of life for me. We still go out dancing with me always following her lead, a role I am used to and so enjoy.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Macy, Maintaining An Image

I was looking through the credit card bills for the last month. Neither my wife nor I are hurting for money, both having successful careers that we have been able to walk away from in the last few years.

Due to being high profile in the community we both are expected to attend quite a few social and charitable functions every month. Mackenzie is more tolerant of these affairs than I, often I conveniently find something that has to be done, an excuse to avoid going to them.

We are both in our forties, considered still good looking, and have the means to dress well. Our house is paid for and we have successfully raised our children and married them off leaving the house empty. I might add after three kids a most welcome change.

During a typical month there will be somewhere between five and ten of these affairs, most of them held on the weekend.

Mackenzie has three closets of evening gowns, labeled with what affair she wore them to and the date of the soiree. Her explanation is that you can’t wear the same dress within a three month period, and in some cases it can’t ever be worn again to the same group if the group is prominent enough.

This particular month the bills for beauty services and clothes is quite staggering. I debated bringing up the subject, although I have been a husband long enough to realize that some things are best left unsaid.

In this particular instance Mac appeared behind me, looking over my shoulder. She picked one of the bills, wrote on it to call them tomorrow, the discount she was promised was not on the invoice and then laid it on the corner of the desk. As she looked at the other bills several more invoices joined that pile, I presume she will be busy tomorrow morning.

I casually asked if all of this is necessary every month. Before she could load her guns, I blurted out that she is a beautiful woman, surely all of this is not necessary to keep her looking exceptional. I had been holding my breath as I got all of that statement out of my mouth before she could respond.

I hoped she would give me an answer without squaring off against me. She is quite intelligent along with being beautiful, the few arguments we have had over the years proving she is very formidable in holding up her half of any discussion. I have not come out ahead in any argument with her.

She was quiet for several minutes, contemplating her answer. Then she sat down on my lap and told me what her weekly ritual involves, just to keep her looks to the same level of beauty as it is now. There was a little twist of her butt as she got comfortable on my lap causing me to squirm a little. When she finished I was astounded.

Her daily beauty regimes, her salon appointments, her time at the gym, and then shopping for actual clothes, getting them altered and then finding the right accessories to make the outfit complete all necessary to attend one affair. If multiple affairs were scheduled, multiply everything by the number of events she is asked to attend.

I told her it was insane, just call them and tell them it isn’t worth it and be done with it. Mac smiled, it isn’t quite that easy. If you want out of a social affair, you come up with some lame excuse, like you booked the golf course a year ago and they will not refund your money.

That doesn’t work the same for females. It is expected of them to attend, not only to be there but to look ravishing or the rumor mills swing into operation and soon Mac is headed for the old folks home, or her marriage is on the rocks, they just haven’t brought in the lawyers yet. I could see her point, I have heard some of those same things mentioned about some of my colleague’s wives, so I didn’t doubt her explanation one bit.

Then Mac got one of her little smirks, her eyes focusing on my body as she got up and walked around me. A pinch on the ass, a hot and heavy breath on the back of my neck and I was a goner. She suggested a little switching of the roles for next month.

October is Halloween month, always several costume balls and various other gatherings where we could switch roles and I could see what it is like for her. I was already shaking my head no, I had no wish to get dragged into this, none of what she had mentioned had any kind of attraction for me. I wasn’t even curious enough to ask any more questions.

That was all good, until she proposed a little bet. If I could attend her October affairs and keep her, now my attractiveness, to her standards for the whole month, she will take the cruise I have been wanting to get her on for years. If I failed and get bad marks for something not taken care of regarding my looks or clothes I will have to fill in for her until I get it right, however long that may be.

That means you will have to maintain my standards no matter what else comes up in this time frame. Melody can be the judge, she attends the same affairs as I do and can be trusted to be truthful and blunt in matters like this. She has always had a soft spot for you, I am sure she will be fair, but I also doubt you can bribe her for a better mark.

Melody was Mac’s best friend, who for some reason or another had taken an interest in me. She was over to our house quite often, involved in conversations with both of us regularly, me with my hobbies and Mac about anything else that might come up. She even played a couple of games of tennis with me, but then she cheated making me run all over the court while she just stood there hitting the ball back to me, never even getting sweaty.

Oh, that mentioned prize was so inviting, the cruise was one of those around the world cruises, seven months of hitting every port and attraction from one end of this planet to the other. One that I have been pleading with her to take forever, but to fill in for Mac was a daunting task.

Stupidly I asked her what she will be doing if I fill in for her. A big smile lighted up her face.

“I have grandchildren that I have not had time to enjoy and spoil, so that is where I will be. I will take a week or two to show you the ropes, where to shop and introduce you to the techs at the salon. A visit to the gym so that you can see what I do to keep my figure, then I will go play with my grandchildren while you have fun here.”

“Once you start this there is no backing out, you are involved until you get your appearance to my standards and maintain it for four consecutive weeks.”

“So do we have a deal, a cruise in exchange for some time as me? Come on Pet, you will make an attractive woman, your body is the right size and you face and hair can be made to look gorgeous. The figure additions can be handled by the salon, nothing permanent, but if you do have trouble maintaining my standards some of the changes do resist changing back after a lengthy delay.”

I asked her if I could think about it tonight and give her an answer in the morning. No problem there, but then she had to rub my nose in it, digging out all the travel brochures and going through them highlighting places she might like to see.

I knew when I laid down in the bed that night I would agree to try it, the pictures of the destinations in the cruise brochure making it very hard to resist. They seemed embedded in my mind, closing my eyes I could picture us on a beach in the South Pacific, sun, sand and romance.

I did agree the next morning, and was whisked away by Mac as soon as I had put on some clothes and brushed my hair. I guess my body was far from masculine, Mac assuring me that I would make a convincing woman. I was about five eight, light brown hair that was sun bleached from my exposure on the golf and tennis courts. It was fairly long, almost to my shoulder blades, always kept in a ponytail low on my neck.

It had been that length for years, but I seldom had it out to be observed. Most of the time it was stuck down my shirt, just the hair band showing at the back of my neck. With regard to body hair I was not overly hairy, a few hairs on my chest, some on my lower arms and a few on my lower legs. My facial hair was sparse, unless I got hot and sweaty, a once a week shave pretty much took care of it.

Although I played golf and tennis regularly, I had almost no muscle development, my arms just about as sparse as Mac’s. The key word in the previous statement is played. I did play golf and tennis, but at such a leisurely pace it couldn’t even be considered exercise.

Riding a golf cart around the course can’t be considered much of an exertion on my part. I did hit the tennis ball back and forth, but definitely no run to the far corner to hit it back. If it didn’t land in front of me it did not get returned. The only exception was my games with Melody where I tried harder not wanting to be beaten so bad by a female.

As far as golf goes my drives were seldom over a hundred yards, most of the time barely the minimal necessary to still be able to play the game. My companions in golf always suggested I use the women’s tees so that I could at least keep up some.

I always went with the name of Pet, a shortening of the name Pat Eli Thomas, a name I have been living with for almost forty-one years. On the way to the salon Mac decided Petula could be my fem name, the story for general circulation was Petula is Mac’s sister, filling in for Mac while she has some female problems taken care of medically. Once at the salon I was taken in and delivered to one of the treatment rooms at the back of the salon.

It was explained to me about my transformation, and the permission slips that had to be signed to allow the procedures. I would be transformed over the next two days that would produce my base image, the image I would have to maintain to win the bet. Of course, clothes, alterations, voice interaction with the other ladies attending the affairs will have to be accomplished too. It was beginning to sound like an impossible task, but

Mac was on a roll, having me sign the forms and stripped of my male clothes so the techs could start. With a wicked smile she gathered up my male clothes and left the salon, promising to be back to pick me up at seven that evening. That was ten hours away, oh gawd what have I let myself be talked into.

I actually broke down and shed a tear or two, I had a pretty good idea of my fate, what with all I will have to do, the interaction and buying clothes, probably well above anything I could possibly accomplish.

Maybe I can survive the onslaught, I know my appreciation for Mac will be much greater. I can see the cruise ship leaving without us, but then it was only a dream to start with. At least Mac will get some time with the grandchildren. Maybe I can find some time to visit them too. With five of them in two separate families, from ages two to four, we have only visited them at Christmas. The fact they only live about an hour away from our home another sad statistic.

I was covered in a whitish cream both front and back while I stood near the table in the room. After twenty minutes the cream was wiped off, leaving me quite hairless and my skin so soft. Then I was laid back on the table and my feet were placed in stirrups.

One of the techs stepped between my legs and took hold of my male thingy, finding a spot to glue it to my groin so that it could be covered up with a quite authentic looking vagina. It took her about an hour to change my sex, I did feel a few things but mostly it was just numb down there.

I stared at my now empty groin, as my penis was glued back between my legs, the realization sinking in that as far as others are concerned I am no longer a male, but a female with an attractive vagina.

The implications that came along with that realization really hit hard, a former male now the one to be desired from members of the male gender. Maybe I will turn out ugly and not have to deal with a male’s attention like Mac has complained about at times.

Mac on more than one occasion has had to deal with a male’s interest in her even thought she wears her wedding rings all the time. According to her she has become quite the put down expert, the balls and social gatherings where the most trouble came from. Due to my frequent absence from these gatherings she has had to deal with the problem by herself, where if I had been there one look and they would have moved on. Now I will find myself in the same predicament.

The next area for them to move to was my chest, I doubt there is anything that comes close to symbolizing a female as a set of breasts. I couldn’t get that straight in my mind, me with two prominent breasts, breasts that couldn’t be just taken off to resume a male image.

Two good sized cups were glued to my chest directly above my nipples. Then a hose was hooked to the front of the cups and a pump turned on starting to suck the loose tissue on my chest into the cups. A syringe of fatty tissue was injected into each cup, to be absorbed into the skin to add the needed fullness to the tissue. I just laid there, picking up my head quite often to look at my changing torso. When the cups are full, there will not be much doubt about my gender, the two main attributes of a female will now be front and center on my body.

As the pump was working away at developing some cleavage for me, the techs were working on my nails, both fingernails and toenails. The fingernails received extensions after my existing nails were filed and cleaned thoroughly. The toenails were cleaned, then they received three coats of polish after a base coat to keep the color from bleeding through to my original nail. Then the same done to my extensions on my fingernails. I now had twenty digits with a coral pink polish that shined brightly.

As they finished the nails, my beard was done away with and my eyebrows were thinned out drastically, now just two highly arched fine lines of hair above each eye. A cream again for the beard removal, left on longer, for a full hour guaranteed to stop all future hair growth.

Some moisturizing cream applied and left on, after most of it was absorbed into the skin my hand touching my face met with some very soft skin, almost silky in its texture. What a difference, maybe not as visible physically but there none the less. A hand slid over my cheek and chin with no resistance, just smooth and sexy skin.

Hair was next, the tech washing and conditioning my longish locks. Her massage of my hair felt so good, that part I could learn to live with. For the next half hour my locks were trimmed into a quite feminine style, then way too many curlers were used, guaranteeing lots of curls for the style. A time under the dryer for the curl to set, my mind wandering about how I was going to cope with all of this.

Then a brief lucid moment when my mind decided to work, I realized that Mac did not have her hair done in curls, she mostly kept her hair long and straight or in a high ponytail with ribbons that matched her outfit that day. I could see the rules were being changed to make sure I would be filling in for her for quite some time.

I was upset at first, but later after my hairstyle had been brushed out and my makeup was being done, I came to the conclusion that all of this pampering isn’t too bad. Now can I cope with the rest that comes along with it? Time will tell.

The suction of the pump trying to make mountains out of mole hills finally shut off, the cups on my chest nearly full. I realized that my world just got up ended, a fairly prominent pair of breasts now protruding from my chest and since they were sucked from my body, they will be around for quite some time, if not forever.

Another little fact that was glossed over, I am sure it was covered in the things to be done to me, but did they actually think I could understand all that was told me and make the right decision while facing life as a female.

For clothes I was given a white blouse, which was almost transparent allowing the full view of my ivory colored bra. The panties, ivory to match the bra, covered up the bottom half of a corset, the corset used to define a waist I did not possess previously. Stockings attached to the corset made my legs shine and helped the four inch heels to slide on to my feet. From the waist down the outfit was a black pencil skirt, guaranteed to shorten my stride and make walking somewhat difficult. The fact that it barely covered the stocking tops, made me feel like I was almost naked down below.

Mac didn’t forget me, although she was a little late, I am sure to make me realize the situation I was in. Dressed as a female, no ID and my car keys at home I was dependent on her for everything. But to take her place I would soon have the basics and could come and go as I wish. What I didn’t know was that a few other things had been changed, my former independence soon to be curtailed drastically.

I was treated to dinner out that night, a surreal experience, being greeted and treated as a female. Then home, the pampering still being dosed out in fairly large portions. I was helped to get undressed, then slid into a gorgeous negligee that totally enveloped me. Then I was cuddled for hours, her hands all over my body, but never where I wanted them to be. That left me highly frustrated, on edge and very horny.

In the morning I was sent to the bathroom to take a shower and brush my hair, when I didn’t return a while later she found me rubbing my groin up and down the door frame. She laughed at me, not giggled but outright laughter. I was hauled off, dressed in some sweats and taken to the salon, all the time shaking her head at my actions. I did not receive any underwear for the trip, only the sweat pants and top.

She mentioned that since I did not have ID as a female I should not drive, any interaction with the police could lead to me being exposed as a pervert, a male dressing as a female for some type of nefarious reasons. To handle that possible scenario she has talked with Hilda, our part-time maid and she has agreed to take me to my appointments and for shopping when needed.

That way I can just be Petula with no worries about getting around. I sighed again, this time a little heavier, my independence slowly slipping away. Not being able to freely get around would impact me quite a bit. I am sure part of the reason for using Hilda would be to restrict my access to anything that might change my fate.

Mac wanting me locked into this role, to truly experience everything she does in life, not able to make an excuse and avoid parts of it. A habit of mine that I have used extensively in the past, a fact that she was more than aware of.

To make sure I willingly complied with her request she confiscated my wallet, and all my credit cards. In its place I was handed a list of all the places she does business with along with the charge account number that had been set up for each.

I was allowed one hundred dollars in cash, anything more had to be cleared by her. I started to say something to her about the small amount, but when she first got involved in these events I insisted she open accounts at each place, so she would not have to be carrying credit cards or large amounts of cash with her. What is good for the goose, I presume in this case, is also good for the gander, sorry former gander.

The salon worked its magic, by the time Hilda came to pick me up at six o’clock there was nothing left of Pet. I was drilled in deportment, taught how to maintain my hairstyle and do my own makeup repairs. I later found out that the makeup was actual stain, repeated use would embed the colors, thus not requiring future applications.

I spent hours in heels of varying heights, and had to try on a seemingly endless pile of clothes to find my right size and what looked good on me. The finished image was all gurl, and quite attractive, too attractive for my liking. The clothes that I ended up with would not disguise the image any, only enhance it.

Hilda gave me such a smile when she saw me, then quickly loaded the bags of clothes that is my new wardrobe into the car. She held the car door for me, her smile now a smirk. I was driven home, then she and I carried the bags into the house. She wanted me to just go on in and she would take care of everything, but I wanted something to do so I would not have to face Mac right away. I made it as far as the living room where I was tackled and sent to the floor.

Hilda picked up the bags I was carrying and went on to our bedroom, giggling all the way, while Mac saw to messing up my hair and face real good. I was groped, pinched, licked, and almost anything else you can imagine while Mac was giggling away. Oh there was kissing too, by the time she finished with me, my lipstick was smeared all over my face.

Then she had the nerve to snap a picture of me, looking like I had been ravaged by someone, telling me that would be an extra week, since I had not been able to maintain my base image for longer than an hour.

I was led off to the bedroom to find all the closets open, the new clothes for me hung in my former male closet. All of my male clothing now missing, even the dresser now loaded with panties, bras and assorted hosiery.

Mac pointed to the vanity where a list of socials, balls and other meetings for October was laid, so that I could plan my schedule and participation for each event. I set down at the vanity hard, and quickly placed my head into my hands. I instantly had a headache, one of those migraine types. Mac set close to me rubbing my back, then started nibbling on my neck and ears. Exactly what I had done to her in the past when I was in a romantic mood.

I told her I was not in the mood, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and placed my hair into a ponytail, then went to my dresser and removed a nightie. After losing my clothes, I slipped on the nightie and crawled into bed, I turned to the side, my one breast almost getting caught between the bed and my body. I pulled the covers up and switched off the light on my nightstand.

I let out a huge sigh, then closed my eyes and tried to not think about anything. I felt her cuddle my back, then reach her arms through to hold my breasts. God it felt so good, but if I even twitched I knew it would be hours before I would be able to get any sleep. I guess I dozed off for that is the last thing I remembered until the alarm the next morning.

Over the next few days I was taken to her gym, my new membership handled and an hour spent exercising as Mac usually did. Then to an early dinner, where she ran over the list of upcoming events that I would be required to attend. She gave me some pointers on what was required, and some info on the people involved.

I soon saw that filling in for her would be daunting, if not a total disaster. She stayed focused, never acknowledging the fact that I would most likely fail in my efforts. Since her name was freed from the gossip, Petula would be filling in and her name would be associated with any failure or disaster.

Then two days later she packed and left, but not before seeing to me. I maybe got five minutes sleep that night, every orifice on my body got utilized and I was sore and mentally out of it as she kissed me goodbye and tweaked my nipples.

I did spend the day in bed, although Hilda did check in on me several times. Finally at five o’clock I stumbled to the bathroom to handle a pressing need. Since I was awake I needed to figure out just what I was going to do. I was getting used to my additions and my lack of any male equipment. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought previously, lots of little things were pleasant and I could get used to them quite easily.

Hilda was cleaning in the kitchen when I arrived downstairs. She took one look at me and marched me back upstairs to our bedroom. She picked out an outfit for me to wear, then asked if I needed any help in dressing. I thanked her for her concern but told her that I thought I could handle the situation. It took me a lot longer to dress than Mac ever did, but I did manage. The hairstyle was easily coerced back into something feminine, a touch up of my lipstick got me looking quite feminine again.

I passed the Hilda inspection this time, her smile quite contagious. I set at the dining room table with all the info on the upcoming month, trying to figure out what I needed to do to make it through the month. I made up several lists of clothes needed, actually evening gowns primarily.

I decided tomorrow I will embark on a shopping trip, to see if I can find the perfect dress for each event. Mac had suggested that I look through her closets to see what she wore to the last event, giving me an idea of what I would be looking to buy for this year’s event.

There were six events for the month of October with two costume balls at the end of the month. The two costume balls were not associated with any particular group, one being held at the country club and the other at the local convention center downtown. That one was sponsored by the local chamber of commerce, an organization I used to belong to. I had ten days to the first affair, so knew I needed to get my shit together quickly.

The next morning I headed out shopping, that is Hilda and I headed out to find the perfect gown for each event. Four hours later I was mentally drained, having to try on at least fifty evening gowns so far and nothing seemed to be right for any event. Hilda shadowed me, quite often giggling away at my frustration.

To keep from being relegated to Mac’s life for all eternity I pleaded with Hilda for help. She finally gave in, but made me promise to not mention her help to Mac. Mac had made her promise that she would observe but not help, but Hilda felt sorry for me, knowing that I most likely would not ever see another piece of male clothing in my lifetime.

Hilda did point out some selections that might be appropriate, but made me make the final choice, thus relieving her of some guilt for helping me. So eight hours later we made it back home, with five dresses, a start but still three more dresses to go.

Hilda recommended a trip to the alterations people in the morning, since one of the dresses had to be altered and back in a couple of days ready for the first event. That took up most of the following day, although we did find one more dress at the salon later in the day after my regular appointment. I was truly pooped, after getting in and out of my clothes several times that day while the dresses were marked for alterations. Then again at the salon while my female accessories were checked to see if they were still attached firmly and functional.

Of course, my hair and makeup were refreshed while my nail color was changed to match the dress for the first event. At home I practiced talking in a feminine manner, my voice not that deep, it was my choice of words that tended to give me away. In our discussions later in the week Hilda smiled at my new voice, giving me a hug in response to all of my hard work.
The dress was ready to be picked up from the alteration people, after I tried it on again to make sure it fit properly. It fit tight to my body all the way from my bust to my lower hips, not a wrinkle in sight. Hilda reminded me I had to watch what I ate, anything extra or in a larger portion would make the dress to not fit properly causing me a lot of grief in the future. I knew what she was hinting at, if the dress did not fit another span of time would be added to my role as Mac.

The day of the event Mac made a surprise visit, walking directly to my bedroom and starting to inspect her stand in. I was carefully scrutinized, body, clothes, hair and makeup. I think she was a little miffed, since she could not find any fault with my appearance. Still a smile on her face, since I had the four hours at the first event to get through before I could relax.

Melody’s husband drove us to the event, he had managed to evade going there himself, but did volunteer to get us there. I think he just wanted to see me all dressed up, maybe snapping a picture or two for future use if needed. I had played golf with him on occasion, we weren’t exactly friends but we did get along.

His eyes bugged out when the two of us emerged from my house. Melody having to kick him in the shins to get his focus back on her. Since she was wearing pointed toe heels I am sure he felt it, his attention did quickly return to his wife, never even looking my way during the trip. He let us off at the door, promising to come back and pick us up later in the evening.

I was a bundle of nerves as Melody took me around introducing me to Mac’s friends and other influential females at the gathering. Then a male approached the two of us, introducing himself and asking me for a dance.

I was looking at Melody figuring that he was asking her for a dance. Melody giggling told me otherwise. I had no idea what to do, Melody placing my hand in his handling the impasse. He led me off to the dance floor then assumed the male position as he held me in his arms. I looked over to where Melody was standing willing her to help me out. I got a smile and then she turned and walked over to the bar to get a drink.

I made a few wrong steps before I started following his lead. After a few moments he pulled me closer to him, now our bodies were touching quite a bit. I felt like leaning my head on his shoulder but luckily some saneness surfaced and I managed to pull back some. I thanked him for the dance and I was left with Melody again, her smirk obvious and threatening to proceed to a full blown giggle attack.

Four more dances that evening, left me wondering how I would be able to handle the male attention in the future.

Then I had a duh moment, I did not have wedding rings like Mac, I am sure it would not deter everyone, but less is definitely better. Thinking back to tonight I had four dances that I was unable to avoid and eleven requests for dances that I managed to avoid somehow. Suddenly my respect for Mac grew quite a bit.

When I was not fighting off the male of the species I did manage a few conversations with some of Mac’s female friends. I tried to remember their names and not say the wrong things, but after the evening was over I had no idea how I did. I was very thankful when Melody’s husband picked us up, dropping me at my home, then heading on home themselves. I couldn’t get out of the heels fast enough, the dress quickly following the heels. I made it to my bedroom, slithered out of the underwear and donned a nightie and was soon lost to the world.

The next morning I was awoken with a kiss, my eyes shot open to see a smiling Mac glaring at me. She handed me a list of things that were not done correctly, including mistakes made at the event. I groaned as there were twenty-five notations listed, ranging from not hanging up my clothes after getting home to mistakes in conversations with some of her friends, that would have to be straightened out in the next couple of days. Bottom line my first week was a total disaster and would not count in my quest for four weeks filling in for Mac.

I did get groped in an erotic way, kissed till I was panting and then left on the bed totally unsatisfied. She waved to me from the bedroom door and mentioned that mistake nineteen through twenty-five should be corrected today, but no later than tomorrow. She blew me a kiss and disappeared.

I had propped myself on one elbow, now I fell back on the bed and groaned. Apparently it was loud enough for Hilda to hear, since she came into the room with quite a smirk on her face. She laid out some clothes for today, but left the mess I had made last night for me to straighten out.

It was also relayed to me that lunch would be in half an hour, no second chances if I didn’t make it in time. Another loud groan and I threw off the covers and slid out of bed. I could hear Hilda giggling from the hallway as she returned to the kitchen.

I nibbled on some fruit for lunch, my appetite seemingly disappearing after the realization that I would be in this role for quite some time. I returned to the bedroom and did the things that I had ignored last night. Just hanging my clothes and gathering my laundry took a couple of hours. Hilda did check on me pointing out a few details that I had overlooked. A few hours later a smiling Hilda gave approved of my efforts.

I consulted Mac’s list and tried to figure out how to correct some of my social errors last night. I figured that most of my mistakes were a result of my reluctance to engage her friends. Mac had supplied enough background on her friends that I could figure out where I could meet them casually again, this time making sure I engaged them in small talk about things feminine.

It is one thing to maybe figure out what I had done wrong, but quite another to try and straighten them out. I called several of her friends, arranged a time to meet, sometimes lunch or a dinner. A few were just a meeting for drinks and some conversation.

Again a search through my wardrobe for the appropriate dress for each meeting. Mac had put an asterisk next to one lady. Telling me to start with her. I had met her once, she came across as a super confidant female, not above stating her opinion without admitting any guilt on her part.

I had arranged a late lunch with her at one of the better restaurants in town tomorrow. I worked on my appearance for over two hours before Hilda dropped me off at the restaurant. The lady was right behind me, and we were shown to our table quickly.

After we ordered she started the conversation, telling me that she knew why I was having lunch with her. It was obvious yesterday that you were new to this female gender, maybe I can help you a little to hone your skills. She walked me through last might, telling me what I should have done with each lady. Unlike her none of the other ladies caught on to my real gender, just figuring I was from some hick area and had not earned my merit badge in female behavior.

It was a pleasant lunch, after she had told me what had to be done we talked at length about my predicament, the lady informing me that I might as well face the reality that I will be a member of the female gender for the rest of my life.

Mac and her had broached the subject from time to time so it was not a spur of the moment idea of Macs. In case I was not aware of her skill, very few things that Mac had decided to pursue in life ended up other than what she wanted to begin with. The lunch lasted for almost two hours as we discussed everything and anything.

When we finished I got a huge hug, while she invited me to her house later in the week for some gossip and another lunch. We left friends, something I never thought I would be able to achieve with a member of the female sex. Well other than Melody, who had made the overture to me in the first place.

I had called Hilda and she was waiting for me outside the restaurant, seeing the smile on my face she assumed that I had achieved my goal. I told her what had transpired and she giggled when I also told her that I most likely will not return to the male gender even if I succeed in winning the bet. I also told her I will deny any mention of that statement if word gets back to Mac. She ran her finger across her lips as if to zip them up and giggled for quite some time.

After we made it home I got a hug, her telling me it was for the best, you essentially sucked as a male to start with, although your skills as a father were much better. I pouted a little at her statement but ended up giggling with her at my reaction to her statement. I undressed and slipped on a robe and made a few plans for tomorrow’s meetings.

Hilda did give me a treat as she came and brushed my hair for me before bed. I could so get used to that, wonderful feelings and goose pimples combined. I thanked her for being so nice to me, and suggested that we spend an afternoon together just being friends later in the week, just the two of us.

We hugged and I headed to bed after donning a gorgeous nightie that I had not seen before. I was soon drifting off, dreaming of pretty clothes and dancing. The rest of the lunches and dinners went off much better, I still was a little reserved but I think I had managed to mend most of the broken fences I had caused at the ball.

I did make sure I obtained a set of wedding rings for the next soiree, although I felt wonderful dancing the night away I was not fond of being pursued. The rings were my original set for Mac, before she obtained larger more impressive ones for daily wear.

Although she still wore them occasionally, I had need of them now to keep the wolves at bay. Surprisingly they fit my ring finger perfectly, although I was sure I had larger fingers than Mac. Maybe more of Mac’s conniving somehow involved here.

I think I have turned the corner now, every morning I am up early planning out the day’s activities and looking for the right outfit to wear to do so. I am out shopping at least three days a week, with Hilda at my side. We now spend, at least, two afternoons together, no agenda, just two friends talking and enjoying each others company. Looking back I now realized how much I was missing in life, determined to not let any more of the good life slip by.

I heard from Mac, she letting me know that she will be back home tomorrow, after visiting all the children and spoiling all of the grand kids. I am sure the real reason was to check on my progress, a primary concern of hers. Maybe I can surprise her some, doing something she does not expect. Two can play at the game, making the game a lot more interesting.

I quickly called the salon asking if I could get an early appointment in the morning for the works. I was especially interested in getting longer nails, extensions for my hair and if possible a larger bust. I was assured all could be handled and was given a seven A.M. appointment.

I made sure Hilda knew about the time, her smirk letting me know that she approved of my surprise for Mac. I did have a few second thoughts in bed that evening, but my hand on my breast and the good feelings that accompanied it pretty much erased any lingering doubt about what I had in mind by the next morning.

I was up early dressed and waiting for Hilda to get dressed. She saw me and smiled, grabbing my hand and giggling as we left the house. The salon was ready for me, several techs ready and waiting. I was hooked up to the boob machine again, the pump started right away encouraging more tissue into the cups. My old nails were removed, a longer set applied and then painted a bright cherry red.

As they were getting ready to add in my hair extensions I asked them if they could use a lighter color, making my hair look like I had highlights. The answer was yes and several hours later my hair was down to my butt, curled and looking thick and beautiful.

Another hour as my makeup was refreshed, then my eyebrows checked for stray hairs, I was pronounced done. I had asked for a higher pair of heels to wear home, feeling sure that would leave no doubt with Mac about my girliness. The almost six inch heels did that and more. Surprise, I had little trouble navigating in the taller heels, not sure why or how.

Hilda had been waiting for me, getting her hair shampooed and conditioned and her split ends handled. When she first saw me her eyebrows went up in amazement, then she started giggling. I signed for the services and we headed home. Mac had already arrived, and was waiting for me in the living room.

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes got as big as saucers as she took in my appearance. I could tell she was not missing any part of my enhanced appearance as her eyes scanned my body from my toes to the top of my head.

I approached her, leaned in and took her face in my hands. I held it firmly as my lips touched hers. I pushed a little harder, making the kiss more passionate. I slipped my tongue in at the first opportunity savoring the experience. I tilted her head to the side a little as I slid my mouth over to her ears and nibbled a little on her earring. Well that did it as she orgasmed right there while standing up. I felt her get wobbly and grabbed her arms to help steady her. She leaned into to me, and soon we were in a tight embrace. I helped her to the couch and eased her down at one end against the armrest. We were sitting right next to each other, her head on my shoulder and her arms around my body.

It took her awhile, but she finally came around, grinning at me and taking another look at all of my changes. She started to ask a question but a firmly placed passionate kiss on her lips killed that off immediately. I asked if she was hungry, since I have reservations at a nice restaurant if she can make herself look beautiful enough to be seen with me.

She gave me quite a stare, but decided she would give it a try. I was hauled off to the bedroom since she wanted me there so she could judge her efforts against her supposed goal for tonight.

I decided to change my clothes too, a sexier dress, chandelier earrings, and some of my hair pinned on top of my head, with some of the curls dangling around my face and neck. The dress barely covered my new breasts, the top half of my erstwhile orbs left uncovered and jiggling around in the cup of the corset I was wearing.

Due to the corset I now had a smaller waist than Mac, making my bust and hips look much more impressive than normal. Mac had been watching closely at my choices, changing what she had planned to wear three times, I suppose in an effort to look as pretty as me. Finally as she donned her last choice, I helped her zip up the dress kissed her passionately and told her that she was beautiful, obviously a close second to my beauty but nothing to be ashamed of.

I kissed her again before she could cut loose on me, then dragged her to the limo I had waiting for us. Hilda did get to see us before we slipped out the front door, giving me a thumbs up.

I hugged Mac tightly in the limo pushing her head against my breast to keep her mind occupied, otherwise the ride was in silence. The doorman got the limo door for us, and we were shown to our table immediately. I had already ordered for us, out first course delivered just a few minutes later. I sat right next to her, feeding her a bite or two as the evening progressed. She did reciprocate as we shared food, drink and lots of kisses.

It was three hours later when the limo dropped us off back at our home, we made it as far as our bedroom, then dressed in nighties and crawled into bed. She was out of it, since she drank wine during the meal, a little too much judging by her actions. While I wanted to stay sober to enjoy being with her and making up for the time we had been apart. I finally fell asleep, while cuddling her in my arms, my head firmly attached to one of her nipples.

As I awoke the next morning she was propped up on her one arm looking at me with great interest. It was her turn today to initiate the kiss, a soft sensuous one that instantly gave me goose pimples. We laid in bed together for almost an hour, just savoring being with our soul mate. She decided to concede defeat, since I had obviously fulfilled her requests and then some. If I wanted to return to the male gender she was okay with it, but I could detect a little sadness in those words as she spoke them.

I told her it would require a large expenditure to do so, since someone had stolen all of my male clothes. Mac jumped out of bed then ran to the garage where she and Hilda had stored my boxed up male clothes to find the space now empty. She squealed and ran back to me tackling me and sending me to the floor, her body laying on top of me as she wiggled her sex into my groin and caressed my swollen nipples.

Hilda walked through wanting to know if we wanted lunch, then giggled and made her way to the kitchen. She never did get a reply to her question. She appeared later, telling us there was food in the fridge, if we wanted it and she would see us tomorrow around noon. I then remembered the next ball was tomorrow evening, Hilda planning to be here to help me get dressed for it.

We never did get any nourishment from the fridge, just lots of kissing and cuddling the rest of the day. A very romantic night, my new body seeing a lot of attention heaped on it. I tried to reciprocate, but Mac was a female on a mission, not to be denied or slowed down in its implementation.

We did sleep late the next morning having just completed our baths as Hilda arrived. I did manage to lay out my clothes for today, Mac not missing the opportunity to check out my choices.

Mac did decide to accompany me to the ball, a fund raising affair for a children’s charity. We both looked ravishing, dressed to the hilt and freshly made up and coiffed at the salon prior to the drive to the charity ball. Another limo, since we had no idea how late we might be.

Mac did watch as I made my way through the crowd, talking and hugging my new female friends, exchanging compliments about our dresses and overall appearance. When she did join the group I was with she was ignored some, since she had been out of the loop for several weeks. I could see the look on her face, she did miss all of this, although she had insisted she was tired of it, needing a change in her life.

When several of the ladies were introduced at the end of the festivities for their contribution to the charity, Mac was surprised when she was called up front. I went with her, mainly for support. I had secretly made quite a sizable donation in her name, something to get her back into the swing of things.

As she was thanked by quite a few of the prominent ladies of the event she was staring at me, here eyes trying to bore holes into me. I smiled and waved at her sending a kiss in her direction.

Then I heard my name called out. The name Macy called out twice before I realized they meant me. Apparently I was not the only one planning a surprise tonight. The charity made out like bandits Mac and my donations alone more than they had hoped to raise at the ball. As I approached the front I decided to make things a little more interesting grabbing her in my arms and kissing her hard on the lips. The kiss got a lot more passionate, lasting far longer than planned. When we finally broke the kiss we received a standing ovation from the ladies gathered around us. Mac was congratulated on my conversion to the female gender and I was complimented for a successful transition.

We did manage to find a quiet spot to sit a few minutes, holding each other’s hands tightly so that the other could not manage an escape. A few words were exchanged between us, but most of the time was spent just being content to be with our soul mate.

I did tell her how much I loved her, thanking her for helping me to see that the female gender is a far better choice to live out my future in. To think it all started with me trying to maintain an image, an image I am pleased to see in the mirror every day now, a feminine image. Macy now in her element.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Maggie, A Little More Cleavage

It was a mid afternoon appointment, two-thirty for a body waxing and the addition of breasts. Mary, the stylist at Turnabout Gurl Salon had everything set up for me.

All I had to do is show-up and the deed would be done. Since Mary is a friend of Melody’s, I had been squeezed in, a dinner date for me with my wife at our favorite restaurant the reason for the appointment.

One that I couldn’t miss, I needed to apologize and try to reason with Melody for a stupid statement made without using any part of my limited intellect. The fact that the statement should have never seen the light of day seemed irrelevant now, the irrational statement voiced and her reaction to it implemented.

With the first rip of the cloth I was in agony, the warm wax felt good, but when the cloth had been pushed into it and then ripped off I was ready to leave the table I was on. “OMG what are you doing to me.” Her no words answer, is a towel pushed into my mouth to quiet my protests.

The waxing hurt, every last hair ripped from its follicle quickly, but not necessarily painlessly. The cloth strips were pushed into the hot wax, then jerked off in rapid succession. I never got a chance to even get a breath before the next cloth was ripped away.

The cream that was rubbed into the skin after the process is completed, helped, but did not alleviate the tingles and pain the process created. After a few moments I did get a chance to rub the smooth creamy skin, the feelings that radiated through my body made me pause and wonder what it would be like to have smooth hair free skin all the time.

“That feels so good, you can keep doing that to me all day if you want. The cream that is, not the waxing.”

“Yeah, I could but if you want breasts before tonight I need to get started.” Quipped Mary.

I really didn’t want breasts, the stupid remark again and Melody’s reply the reason I am getting waxed and a pair of breasts added to my chest. I am relatively happy with my life as a male, up until my remark Melody and I got along pretty good.

There have been arguments, but we always managed to solve them to our mutual satisfaction, until now. This time I think I have pushed her too hard, the reaction from Melody not what I had expected to say the least.

We have been married for three years now, again mainly due to the persistence of Melody, I had dated her in college, but never followed through. Back then I was basically unsure of myself in everything I did, whether it was a decision on something pertaining to college or something simple like asking her for another date.

When in doubt, do nothing had been my motto, so any romancing between us was all due to Melody. Melody did step up to the plate, thankfully, inviting me out to dinner or a show. I was aware I should be doing these things myself, but in real life those actions never materialized.

After many quite pleasant dates she cornered me in the restaurant that we ate at one night, wanting to know when I was going to develop a backbone and ask her to marry me. Just like before I stumbled, words were muttered but none of them seemed to make any sense.

She got pissed, pulled a ladies engagement ring out of her purse and slid in on my finger. I stared at the ring and swallowed hard. With some giggling she whispered in my ear to say yes. I did get out the word, now she was outright laughing at my facial expression.

She did comment that if I kept this up, I might be the one walking down the aisle in the wedding dress, in fact you would probably look prettier in it than me.

I tried to remove the ring, some sanity returning to my poor overworked mind, hoping to get the ring off and slide it on to her finger. I did get down on one knee asking her to marry me, she replied yes and then kissed me. Unfortunately the ring would not come off, so she paid the check, dragged me to the car and made sure I was handled as you would handle a prospective bride on the ride to her apartment.

A few hours later, wonderful sexy hours, I managed a retreat to my own home. When I did eventually get home, my nipples were sore, I had lipstick all over my face from her kissing and junior was totally pooped. It was a night to remember, that is for sure. Her engagement ring was still on my finger, refusing to budge from it.

Even though I was basically unsure of myself in my dealings with life, I did manage a decent grade point average during college, graduated and was soon working for a company in town. Not upper level management, but also not an hourly worker. I was proud of the fact I was male, just six inches under six feet tall and fairly skinny, weighing a little over a hundred and forty pounds.

While Melody had only her Mother as family, I still had both Mom and Dad. Melody and her Mother were close, while I saw very little of my family, Dad being the main reason for a standoffish relationship.

He had been disappointed in me, I was not the athlete he desired me to be. His son Barry, that's me, not following in his footsteps forever causing a breech in our relationship. I saw Mom often, but Dad was always busy or had to go somewhere when I arrived. Maybe that lack of something between us caused some of my uncertain behavior, a guess on my part, but nothing more.

Back to the present the requirement that I have breasts, however, is a different matter completely. The machine for sucking a pair of breasts out of the body is intimidating, a cup or form, way too large in my opinion, hooked to hoses hanging from the overhead arm positioned above my body ready for their victim. All of this attached to a vacuum pump intent on making mountains out of molehills.

According to Mary I had to state that I wanted the procedure, plus sign a release, a must for the salon to avoid problems later. I didn’t think about it that much, I just wanted the relationship between Melody and myself back to where it was a couple of days ago. That desire clouded my thoughts, what I ended up with much more than I bargained for. Mary had offered several choices, but my mind was not on what she said, just give me some breasts so that I can get back into Melody’s good graces.

When the stupid remark first left my mouth I tried to apologize, but Melody was insistent that I show her the error of her ways. The sooner I get this done the sooner that I might enjoy the benefits of her loving and caressing again.

I did sign the forms required, Mary giving me a copy for my records. The cups are lowered to my chest and a paste is applied around the edges sealing them to my chest. The pump is turned on and the tissue starts filling the cups. Mary did inject some fatty tissue into the cups before the pump started. It is a slow process taking four to five hours for the cup to fill. My eyesight is limited some, the size of the suction forms blocking some of the view of my lower extremities. I could feel it though, as my skin was pulled into the cups.

Way too many hours later the hoses were unhooked and the machine rolled away to its place in the corner. The pulsating of the pump had made me drowsy, I felt Mary working on my body during this time period but I was basically out of it. With the pump off I laid there staring at the ceiling wondering how long it would take for my new breasts to go down to a manageable size. Something that I might conceal under a baggy sweater or a sweatshirt.

After waiting for an hour, Mary reappeared with a bra and some clothes in her hands. She laid them on a counter and approached my new amendments. She touched the cups, they seem to be less rigid now than when this started. She announced the forms would stay on, dissolving over the next two to three days.

They were already bouncing around, the slightest body movement causing some jiggling activity with my new appendages. In her hands she had two syringes, to stabilize the new breast tissue, and quickly injected one each into the appropriate breast right through the nipple. I felt the syringe enter the nipple, but there was no overt pain involved.

A concern did materialize as to how I would be able to maintain a male image at work next week. Probably should have thought of that sooner, but a lot of things should have happened that didn’t including the control of my mouth. My overwhelming desire to smooth out things with Melody prevented me thinking matters through, now I was sure to face many more problems before this was over.

Mary grabbed a bra and helped me position it over my breasts, a new and unknown feeling radiating through my breasts and chest. It took me several times to fasten the thing correctly. Mary making suggestions, but otherwise leaving it up to me.

The feeling of the material in the cups of the bra caressing my new tissue hard to ignore. Thankfully the bra did stop some of the jiggling activity, allowing my mind to concentrate on how in the hell did I get myself into this predicament. Even though some of the cup remained, I could feel the movement and touch of the bra. With the bra holding my new breasts securely, a blouse is handed to me.

I simple pullover design with a plunging neckline, my stupid remark getting its first lesson in what it feels like to experience a plunging neckline. The smaller cups of the bra barely holding my breasts in their confines. I feared they would fall out of their support at any moment.

Looking down at my cleavage it seemed that all of my assets were on display, the gap between the two pieces of fabric of the blouse seemed to be immense. With the minimal material connecting the two cups on the bra there is nothing hiding the vast expanse between the two cups, the deep cleavage between the two orbs very noticeable, especially to me.

Mary took a couple of minutes to brush my hair till it fell around my shoulders, not in its usual ponytail. It felt good as it brushed my shoulders and settled around my face and ears. Letting my hair grow to its present shoulder length, helping in my presentation as a feminine individual. A presentation that I was not thrilled about or desired.

The light burgundy color of the blouse and the silky fabric barely covered the outline of the bra. I was indeed covered, but it seems that what I am wearing would be no secret from anyone looking at me. With the blouse settled on my body, the Docker’s pants I had worn to the salon became the piece of clothing that looked out of place.

Mary suggested the capris that she had brought me might be a better choice. The tan color looked better than the yellow Dockers, with the burgundy trim on the cuffs of the capris matching the blouse perfectly.

Now the waxing seemed prudent, the hair below the capris would have been a no-no in fashion circles. To be able to wear the capris something had to be done with my male shorts. A light pink pair of panties found their way into my hand, and eventually on my body. As they settled in place on my hips I noticed how closely they fit between my legs. I closed my eyes and sighed, the feeling almost too much.

I wonder how Melody handles all of these sensations affecting her body. There was no thoughts about the smooth groin that was now on display, it was kind of numb down there, maybe the waxing and cream had affected the area.

Of course, you change the pants you have to make adjustments to the footwear. The clunky athletic shoes not blending in well, their black color all the more revolting. The best Mary could do is a pair of tan heels, blending with my outfit perfectly, but not the best for walking in.

The three-inch height of the heel adding to my statuesque looking body, but it also caused some stability problems. Several trips around the salon, and I could manage to walk unaided, although shorter strides and walking more in a line made it manageable not easier. I did notice I had developed a sway to my rear as I walked around, something that was not there before. It seemed easier to walk now, my thighs easily rubbing against each other. Still no connection to a difference that was not noticed at all yet by my feeble mind.

She handed me a purse that matched the heels, I refused till I found that the capris had no pockets to use. My wallet and keys deposited therein and I am ready to go. I did pay Mary for her work, and tipped her for bearing with me. I did get a smirk from her, as I was settling up, maybe my desire to please Melody was funny to her. The image in the mirror at the front of the salon showed that the male idiot that had mouthed those words got his just desserts. I just hope Melody is happy with the replacement.

Since Melody is picking me up here, I sat down in one of the love seats at the front of the salon to await her arrival. As I sat I crossed my legs at the knees, similar to what Melody does all the time. It was comfortable sitting that way.

My mind kept going back to the discussion that started all of this. I have been encouraging Melody to wear a little more revealing clothing. She is a beautiful woman, confident in her appearance and her actions.

The stupid part came about when I am trying to convince her of the need for her to be more daring in her dress.

“If I had such a gorgeous pair of breasts I would always be wanting to show them off, to entice my lover to fondle them and to make other women jealous.” Sadly these were my words on that fateful day. A male who is so unsure of himself that he can’t even propose to his fiance, but yet open his mouth and stick both feet firmly inside.

“Well let’s get you a pair and you can show me how it’s done.” The biggest smile appeared on Melody’s face, as I sweated a response that wouldn’t make things worse than they were. An hour later the call is made to Mary and my appointment is made. That response never came, silence the better part of valor in this case. I didn’t expect Melody to go through with the appointment for me, I thought she was just bluffing.

My thoughts are back to now as Melody enters the salon. She takes in my appearance and attacks me. Her kisses, groping hands and a tongue that is clearing my throat make her reaction to me pleasant.

Yeah, all I have to do now is get my heart back beating and refill my lungs with air. Normalcy returns somewhat, she uses a tissue to remove her lipstick from my face then hands me my lipstick so that I can fix my lips before going to dinner.

As I slide a coat of color on my lips, I had forgotten what I originally came into the salon for. Yes, I came into the salon for something else, I just can’t remember what it was. I am led to her car and seated in the passenger side. The ride to the restaurant is brief, the walk from the parking lot still a little unsteady, but Melody has her hand on my lower back to help guide me and support me.

We are quickly seated, a corner booth private and dimly lit. She orders for me, a white wine and vegetarian lasagna, my usual order. She also gets a white wine, and her usual calzone with pepperoni and provolone cheese. I sit there staring at her and trying not to breathe much. Every breath causing my breasts to move up and down distracting the hell out of me.

She slips a little closer to me, ending up with her hand on my thigh. She moves it back and forth slowly. Her caresses did cover the groin area, a raising of her eyebrows when she runs her hand over my smooth front. The sensation of the silky material over my hairless skin almost too much for me.

“Please stop, I see the error of my ways, I am wrong in what I foolishly stated yesterday, please stop or I am going to make a fool out of myself right here in the restaurant.” She removes her hand, smiles and asks if I want to be screwed tonight.

That statement and her hand brushing over my nipples sent me over the top and I climaxed right there in the booth. Luckily I managed to keep my mouth closed so the low moan that emerged was not able to be heard by all.

She giggled and asked if I needed her help in cleaning up my little mess. I nodded my head and she pulled me out of the booth and we headed for the ladies room.

It was a sticky gooey mess, I don’t remember cumming that much before, the amount in my panties and all over my groin quite a record for me. My mind suddenly sprang into action, my penis is gone, now nothing but a slit framed by two lips. The cum still oozing out of my slit. I wavered a little, then Melody saw what was missing, her giggling was infectious but also embarrassing.

She told me we had to talk once we got home, there are things that need explaining. Apparently I also need to get you some tampons to carry in your purse from now on.

With my face still a deep red it took more than several paper towels to clean up the mess. Melody did show me a couple of tricks in how to remove the stickiness, mainly warm water with the panties off then wrapped in a towel to soak up some of the moisture. When they went back on they were still wet, but at least not sticky.

She gave me one of her sanitary pads to wear to soak up any more leakage, but the resulting red from the embarrassment probably more telling than the wet panties would have been.

We finished dinner in a relative normal manner, at least, she managed to keep her hands to herself. I ate a little of my entree, but it was not from a lack of hunger but nervousness. We split a decadent chocolate cake/mousse concoction that probably added five pounds to our figures. She paid the check then steered me to her car. I got myself situated in the passenger seat then she headed away from our house towards the foothills. I let out a big sigh, apparently lots more to come of this evening before we head home.

She pulled into a state park with a view of the valley we lived in. The stars were out, the evening temperature in the seventies, a very pleasant evening. She slid over next to me, laying my head on her shoulder. That felt so good, a soft place to lay and try to forget the mess that I am in.

“You did show me what I have been missing being so uptight and conservative. When I first saw you at the salon I wanted to do you right there on the love seat. It took tremendous self-control for me to let that chance slide by. You made your point, about the clothing, I will try and wear more provocative clothing for you.”

“Now I think you need to tell me what you had done at the salon. I had arranged with Mary for you to be waxed and then some breast forms applied to your chest. She did tell me that she was going to kid you about making it more permanent, but we both figured that you wouldn’t go for it.

What I am feeling when I hug you is not breast forms, the movement of them when you walk and breathe deeply more like real breasts. So an explanation is in order. While you are at it, you might tell me what happened to your male organ. That slit and two cute lips not very masculine dear. I am not complaining though, I am sure we can take advantage of what is now available.”

I am almost in tears, so wrapped up in making things right with Melody, I apparently missed half of the conversation today at the salon. Melody had made it simple and temporary, I had signed my male life away, at least for quite some time. I recounted what I remembered from our discussions at the salon, Melody giggling first, then outright laughter. I had done it to myself, all by myself with no help from anyone else. No one to blame or accuse of dirty tricks, just me.

“Will my stupidity cause any change in our relationship? I know you married a male, now I have larger assets then you, please say you still love me and will not throw me out for this act of stupidity.”

She was quiet for some time, rubbing my new breasts, causing me a lot of discomfort. Her other hand rubbing my new vagina through the capris. Believe me my male apparatus under the vagina needed no more stimulation. Since some of the feeling had returned I knew I still had one, just tucked away for the moment. I twisted and turned trying to keep from creaming my panties again. I cleared my throat finally getting her attention.

“I might be persuaded to put up with you, I will have to have my breasts enlarged, can’t have my hubby’s larger than mine. Then there is the problem with sharing clothes with you, you will no doubt want to wear my sexier outfits so we will have to buy more clothes. With more clothes we will have to have more lingerie, shoes, makeup, cosmetics, and accessories.

Two salon appointments every week, my SO will always have to be pretty and beautiful for her spouse. There is one advantage though, now that you are female you can help with the housework, cooking and laundry.”

She leaned in close to me, taking my head in both of her hands and tilting it back a little, her lips meeting mine and her tongue slipping in between my lips. It felt like she was going to push her tongue all the way down my throat. I was breathing through my nose but still having a hard time getting sufficient air to my lungs.

I closed my eyes, the feelings saturating my mind with endorphins. She moved her lips from my lips to my ears and I did cream my panties again. She was giggling as I was beet red from embarrassment.

I better take you home before the cum dries, otherwise we may never get you out of your lingerie. I set low in the seat, humiliated to the extreme, her formerly male husband with real breasts, coming twice just from external stimulation of my ears and body.

When we got home I was helped into the house, taken directly to our bedroom and stood by the side of the bed. She undressed me removing each garment and laying it on the bed. I tried to help but my hands were swatted and placed by my side. I was almost in tears, I had fouled up everything now I couldn’t even act like a male, every touch causing me to react more like a female, my male seed oozing out of my vagina all over my lingerie.

Real breasts, a vagina, lingerie, female clothes, the list goes on and on. Her former husband more of a female than his wife. At least in our loving she could control herself somewhat, not coming at the slightest provocation.

She laid me on the bed, retrieved a wet warm towel and cleaned me up both front and back. Junior was loving every minute of it, straining hard under his cover to show his enthusiasm. Unfortunately he was securely glued in place, he could get excited but swelling up to his former size was not happening, not for quite some time.

My nipples were red and raw by the time she stopped playing, I was moaning and squirming all over the bed. I pleaded with her to do something, anything to make me come. Instead she switched to the other breast and played with it for a while. I was crying pleading with her to finish me off, but instead she would kiss me on the lips, lick my face or ears and then go back to my breasts.

My eyes were closed trying to ignore some of the feelings that were attacking my mind, then I felt her breath on my new female appliance. Oh gawd no, I wiggled viciously trying to escape her clutches. She looked up often, smiling as her fingers stroked my new sex.

In between times she would tenderly kiss the two lips surrounding my moist slit, then blow her breath down the slit with a tongue inserted every once in a while. I heard a drawer open and close, but too much was happening and my eyes were shut hard trying to deal with all the these feelings assaulting my mind.

Then something larger than her finger was slid up and down my slit, the new sensations almost causing me to black out. I opened my eyes when I realized what she had taken out of the drawer. I raised my head to see what she was doing at the same time she pushed the dildo deep into my new vagina. I screamed in ecstasy, arched my back and fainted.

When I regained consciousness I was shaking the reverberations of my orgasm still affecting me. In fact, it was at least twenty minutes later before my body stopped shaking. Melody had moved up to where she was laying on my chest, her lips on one of my nipples and my heart rate starting to climb again. I pleaded for her to stop, if she continues there is a good chance of me dying from orgasmic bliss.

This time around the clean-up was accomplished under the shower head. Of course, she helped wash me, and with my new play toys that was another lesson in frustration. I was able to get clean, into one of her nighties and in bed as she was finishing slipping on her nightie. I was worrying how I was going to get any sleep, when I succumbed to it without even knowing it. The next thing I remember is the alarm clock the next morning.

Then my head shot up, oh gawd I have got go to work and how am I going to hide these breasts of mine. I ran to the bathroom, did my morning business and stared at my feminine image in the mirror. Male hair, no makeup, but a huge pair of hooters on my chest. I doubted a large shirt would cover them up, probably just make them look that much more feminine. Yeah a pair of sizable breasts, how can they be construed as anything but feminine.

At that time Melody waltzed into the bathroom with a smile from ear to ear. “I have called your boss Donna, she can’t wait to see you with your new assets. For today, till we can get you femmed up a little more she will keep you in her office to do some special projects for her.

Tomorrow though you will be back to your previous job, boobs and all. I will not allow you to hide or shirk your responsibilities, you are a female now, and can work your job dressed as one. I have made another appointment for you to finish the transformation you have started, remember this is what you started, I am just helping you get to the point that you can live and do your job as one.

At least I was spared a dress, cute panties, a pair of slacks and a blouse that buttoned up the back was the fare instead. The blouse was slid on me after the bra was fastened around my chest, cradling my new breasts. Some lipstick, hair in a ponytail and I was delivered to work.

I presume Melody did not trust me to make the trip myself. She even went in with me, to see Donna. As I stood before her desk, she raised her eyes to take in my appearance, then a huge smile spread across her face. Do we have a name yet, something feminine that suits your new appearance?

I suddenly lost my voice, not even having a thought on that subject. Melody spoke up for me suggesting Maggie as my new moniker. Well the two of them voted, Maggie won hands down and I was led over to another desk in her office and given a project to do. I received a kiss from Melody, with her telling me that she would be back at three to pick me up, my salon appointment was for three-thirty. I tried to voice an opinion, wanting to not take this any further, but when I tried to speak there were no words forthcoming.

I started on the project that Donna had assigned me, it was mainly busy work, but the way I was dressed I was appreciative for the work out of the public eye. I wondered how I would hold up tomorrow, back at my regular job and dressed totally as a female.

For some reason I could see myself in a dress tomorrow and probably heels, full makeup and some sort of curly hairstyle. I wonder if that was what I thought would happen or something I hoped would happen. I could smell my brain overworking, probably emitting puffs of smoke as it tried to explore all of the possibilities.

The time went surprisingly fast, I completed that particular job and four others before it was time to cleanup my desk and wait for Melody to pick me up. Donna confronted me asking if I liked what I was doing today.

“It was fun, even though a lot of it was mind numbing I enjoyed the work, quite happy when I completed one project and asked you for another. The time went quickly and soon it was time to finish and wait for Melody.”

Donna suggested that I see her first thing tomorrow morning before I head back to my old job. I suggest you wear something nicer, a cute hairstyle and some makeup would be nice too. If you can handle them a pair of heels add so much to the appearance of my staff. Now be good, and I will see you promptly at eight A.M.

As I rose from the desk Melody peeked in the door and I walked with her out to the car. I repeated Donna’s conversation, Melody getting quite a smirk on her face afterward.

She drove me straight to the salon, where Mary was eagerly awaiting for my arrival. I got a hug from Melody and was left alone to be worked on by Mary. I started to complain about having nothing to eat all day, but Melody just smiled. “You need to lose a few pounds anyway, I am sure you will survive.”

Mary made sure that all facets of my masculine appearance were done away with. A feminine hairstyle, curls courtesy of some curlers and a liberal dousing of setting lotion. Some semi-permanent makeup, mainly lipstick and mascara, and two fresh piercings in each ear along with some cute earrings. Then over to their clothing store, where I was fitted with six very feminine outfits for work. Unfortunately all utilizing skirts and lacy blouses. I indeed looked feminine, no one would ever look at me and suggest I had ever been a member of the male gender.

I did see Donna early the next morning and now worked in her office, a kind of secretary doing little odd jobs for her as she saw fit. That lasted for a week before I was promoted to her P.A. a position I have held ever since.

Melody and I stayed with the lesbian arrangement, I get plenty of pleasure, and she adores her full size plaything. A lot of night time activity lasts until the early morning hours, usually requiring me to take a nap as soon as I get home from work so that I can function the next day at work. We did get lots of clothes, lingerie and shoes for the both of us, my male clothing sent to Goodwill.

Surprisingly my Dad took to Maggie, on one of their visits I was hugged from behind, and addressed as Princess. Mom smiled as he performed that maneuver, so I knew she had something to do with it. I was thrilled, to be loved as a daughter even better than as a son. From that day on we had a regular Father/Daughter relationship, me asking him for help and advice and he doting on me.

The biggest plus to all of this is how much closer Melody and I became. We shared everything in life, shopping, going out, chores around the house, and a vigorous romantic life. Getting a little more cleavage was the best thing to happen to me, I constantly thank Mary for her help in my foolish mistakes made that day, I do owe her a lot.

Now to pick my evening gown for tonight, we are celebrating our anniversary, a special occasion. I wonder if the blue one will be the best or should I go with the green one.

So many decisions all starting with the stupid comments made to Melody about her getting a little more cleavage. I ended up with the cleavage, a fact that I am pleased about. I guess I will go with the green dress, being strapless a perfect match for my now impressive cleavage.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Michelle, Life As A Manicurist

I was very apprehensive when I called my sister Melissa since this is the third time I had asked her for money. She knew I was having a rough time of it, but also very good about not rubbing my nose in it. She had repeatedly tried to warn me about the choices I was making with regards to career, and apartments. Of course, she was right, but being the stubborn male that I am, I could never see it her way.

Now I am in trouble with the rent on my apartment, and my bank account is approaching zero. She suggested that we meet for lunch at Connie's Sub shop, a place we have been eating at for years at eleven A.M. tomorrow. She would bring the money I needed but first she wanted to talk to me about my finances. I told her that I understood her concern since I had been making some really stupid moves with them.

I thought about our conversation after we hung up, and I realized that I should have listened to her all along. She had suggested that I take my training in Cosmetology while taking drama courses on the side. That way I would have a career to go to if acting did not work out for me, but stupid me could only see an acting career in my future. Plus the fact I just could not see myself doing hair and makeup, something way below my station in life. Yep, way too big a head to get through most door frames.

My high school drama teacher had managed to get me a scholarship at Florida State University's Theatre of the Arts, and I had convinced myself that my only chance at a successful career is in acting. I was very wrong, since, after four years of college with a 3.8-grade average, I had not even managed to get an audition for a role.

Although I had taken four years of drama, I never got on to the stage even once, always relegated to working behind the scenes to put on the many productions that the school produced. In fact, once they found out that I could sew, courtesy of my mother's training, that is pretty much all I did. I designed most of the costumes, and actually sewed them since there is usually a tight budget to conform to and only a couple of other persons capable of doing the work. I never considered the fact that drama might not pay my way through life, many times I could have changed majors or taken some other classes that might help in getting a job. Let’s face it how many college graduates have a degree in drama, in my graduating class; there was only two, with me being one of them.

After graduation, I had high hopes, but it turned out that I am too tall and too plump to be considered for most male parts. I even spent three weeks in Hollywood trying to get anyone to give me a chance. The answer is always the same; you are not what we are looking for in an actor. Instead of facing reality, getting an entry level job in another field and try to work my way up, I persisted in my career choice even when time after time I had to come to Melissa to borrow some money to make ends meet.

I tried the first time to ask my parents about loaning me some money, but my father refused to help me. He also had told me acting (drama) was the wrong choice, and if it had not been for the scholarship, I would not have been able to attend college. He had refused me money to go to college unless I changed majors, and when I asked them for a loan after college, his opinion was the same.

Mom managed to slip me some money from time to time, but it was always behind Dad's back. Later in college Melissa was able to help me some since she had completed her cosmetology degree, and managed to open her own salon. She is doing quite well and has a large following in her business. In fact, she is planning on opening a separate nail salon next to her beauty salon.

Our parents co-signed her loan for her beauty salon initially, but she managed to pay that off in less than six months. I am their no good for nothing son, and she is the can't do anything wrong daughter. In fact, my other sister, Mary, is also doing quite well engaged to marry an attorney in a couple of months. She trained to be a paralegal and got a job in his office and after a year working for him, she accepted his offer of marriage.

In fact, she is running a business of paralegals doing prep work for attorneys, thanks to her fiance setting it up, but with Mary's managerial skills I am forever doomed to be the black sheep of the family, a position, I admitted to having earned by myself.

The next morning I am up before eight and took the time to clean the apartment. The apartment is nice but way over my budget. The apartment has two bedrooms, a living room, two baths, and an eat in kitchen. I had decorated it nice before I came to the realization that I did not have the money to sustain living there. It is close to Melissa's beauty salon but way too big for only one person to occupy. I hardly used the extra space, one bedroom, and a bath never has been used.

I guess my brain was totally disconnected from my body when I arranged for the apartment. I am now sure that my ego and grand fantasy dreams had a major part to play in the decision. There again, Melissa had warned me to move in with her till I saw if things were going to work out. Now three months had passed by, and I was out almost five thousand dollars in deposits, rent, and furnishings for the apartment. Three thousand I had borrowed from Melissa and I had only managed to pay her back four hundred of it. That was only possible due to a refund on my college dorm room.

I dressed as nice as I could wearing a pair of chinos and a sweater with a pair of loafers on my feet. My hair is neat but almost to my shoulders, another trait necessary to become an actor, in my opinion. Anybody being a little realistic could figure out that long hair might be suitable for a female role, but for a male role no way.

I arrived at Connie's just before eleven and Melissa is already there. She waved to me, and I made my way across the shop stopping only to get us a couple of drinks. She is glad to see me, with a hug proving that sincerity. She knows that I am uptight about borrowing more money from her. To her credit she is always nice to me, never rubbing my mistakes in my face. We talked about them, but she always relents and lets me make my own choices, knowing I have yet to learn my lesson.

We talked about Mom and Dad catching me up on some of the goings-on. Since I am uncomfortable around my father, I rarely visited them figuring that any visit would end up with harsh words. I asked how her salon is coming along, and she told me she had signed the lease on the space next to her salon in the shopping center to house her nail salon. Obviously, she is excited about the addition to her salon.

She said her salon business is booming, and she now had five beauticians beside herself working in the salon. With the new addition, she would be able to move her two manicurists next door and hire two more manicurists and two more beauticians. I am really proud of her and told her that. She is a good businesswoman and took baby steps until she got her business off the ground. I wished I had taken her advice four years ago, and maybe I would be sharing in her success.

She took one of my hands and looked me in the eyes and asked me what I am going to do with my life now that the acting career seemed to be out of the picture. I told her that I had no plans but knew that I would have to find an entry level job or any job to start putting my life back together. She smiled and told me she might have an idea for me to consider.

I jumped the gun and told her that whatever it is I would do it. I admitted that I had wasted too much time and money on a dream, and now I had to do something and real soon. She smiled and handed me some money to get our subs and told me she would tell me what I had to do when I got back. By now the restaurant is beginning to get crowded, and I had to wait ten minutes for our subs.

During that time, I noticed Melissa talking to several ladies, presumably customers, and probably about their hair or nails. Of course, no one even knew that I existed in this town since I interacted with very few people. I picked up the subs and headed back to the table. Another lady had stopped to talk to Melissa, and I had to wait a few seconds for them to finish. I finally sat down and slid her sub over to her.

She asked me what I was paying on my apartment and if more than one person could live there. I told her six hundred dollars and a little change a month. After thinking for a minute or two, the little change was twenty-seven dollars. The lease is open-ended for up to three adults, and there are no other stipulations that I could remember. The electric and water are included in the rent, and there are two parking spaces assigned to the apartment. I asked why she is interested in the apartment, and she told me she would cover that in a minute or two.

She told me now that I am aware of my mistakes at least financially I needed to take immediate action to bring my spending under control. This would involve changing living quarters or getting roommates. I started to tell her that I didn't want to share the apartment with a roommate, and she told me to quiet down and listen to the plan first.

“Since the apartment is closer to the salon than her apartment, she would take over my apartment, and since I needed to cut expenses, drastically she wanted me to move in with her. Since I had badly damaged my creditably with the landlord she would take over the lease, thus relieving my financial burden. We would share the expenses, food, and the cooking duties but part of my new responsibilities was to keep the apartment clean and do the laundry.”

She is aware that Mom had taught me well in those endeavors and that I could handle them easily. I agreed knowing that Melissa is right on all counts and very grateful for her saving my derriere. She would come home with me and arrange to take over the lease on the apartment thus solving one major problem of mine. Her apartment is a month to month, and she would have no trouble moving out after thirty days’ notice.

She asked if I still had all the furnishings, and I replied yes, what would I do with them. She thought that I might have sold some of them off to get some cash. I blushed a pretty shade of pink since I had not even thought that I could sell them to get some cash. She grinned ear to ear knowing I am truly embarrassed by not using any of my cranial matter in that regard. Her only comment is that I must be a natural blonde through and through.

I asked her where I might apply for a job, trying to beat her to the punch on the job front. She said that I have one including free training if I will take it. I pounced upon that wanting to know where at. I told her I could be at their place of business first thing tomorrow morning to apply or sign up, whatever is needed. She said that she would hire me to do nails and give me all the training that is necessary. The pay would be ten dollars an hour or forty percent of my intake for the salon.

I told her that I would not be good at that and she ought to find someone that will be able to do the job. I thought to myself that she was just hiring me to give me some income so I wouldn't feel so helpless or destitute. Melissa told me she was not doing me any favors since I would have to do the same as all the other girls both in my training and also in my work.

She told me she is a qualified instructor in nail care, and I could do manicures, pedicures, and artificial nails under her supervision.

I asked her if she thought I could do this, and she said if I could design and sew costumes for the theater I could learn to do nails. She could really use the help later after the new nail salon opens, and she always felt a deeper connection with me than brother and sister. I almost cried at that point since she had solved most of my problems or, at least, made an inroad towards that goal.

She warned me that there would be a few bumps along the road, namely having to practice my skills mainly on myself while I learned the trade. I looked over at her with a puzzled look on my face. Surely it couldn't be that hard since I would just apply the polish and then later when I was ready to go home just remove the polish.

She answered me without me having to put those thoughts into words. To learn to do artificial nails, I would have to practice applying them and then applying polish.

Since artificial nails last a long time before they can be easily removed, that would require me to wear them 24/7 for several weeks. With the advent of gel nail polish and UV lights to set the polish, removing the polish is no longer a simple task. Finally, the light came on in my head, and I realized that I would be living my life away from the salon with long, beautiful, highly polished nails.

I thought about this for several minutes and asked her how other students handled this problem. She smiled and told me most were women, and long polished nails are normal for the fairer sex. I told her I could just hibernate in the apartment when not at the salon, but she didn't seem to like that idea.

It was quiet for several minutes, we had finished our subs and were cleaning up our mess on the table. Unlike most of the sub shops customers, we did not like to leave the table in a mess when we finish. We picked up our trash and headed for the parking lot after using the trash container at the door. Connie, who we had known for several years, thanked us and told us to come back soon.

When we got to Melissa's car, she is looking around for where I had parked my car. I turned red in the face, this time, replying in a low voice that I had no gas left in it. She opened the car door for me, and we headed over to my apartment. I took her to the landlords, and she quickly explained the situation, and he rewrote the lease, and she paid six month's rent in advance. The smile on his face couldn't get much bigger.

We then went up to the apartment and Melissa looked it over from one end to the other. She thought everything would work out okay but said that we would have to buy a couple of armories to add to the bedrooms to give us sufficient space for our clothes. I did not have that many clothes but remained silent since Melissa is already doing so much for me that I felt so guilty about.

We adjourned to the living room after I had got us a couple of diet cokes to sip on. She wanted to know what I thought about the job and training. I was ecstatic about having a job but am apprehensive about my ability to perform the procedures. Melissa said there was another option on how to handle the obviously feminine nails on a male persona. I hesitated, but an utterly obscure idea began to materialize in my mind. I thought I had correctly guessed what idea she is preparing to launch upon me but between my anxiety and her extraordinary smile I could not utter any words.

That smile of hers simply means I have you where I want you and to resist is futile. She suggested that to handle the nails and the polish problem the best approach is just to dress and live as a female. I started to shake a little and Melissa hugged me and held me for several minutes. As she pushed me out to arm’s length, she reminded me of when we used to play dress up, and I was always the girl. Stupidly I told her that I had no women's clothes, but she told me to borrow some of hers until I could sew my own.

My next question is what will Mom and Dad say about this. Her answer is Mom already knows about my idea, and she is totally for it, with Dad you couldn't make things any worse than you have, and Mom will work on him for us. Melissa suggested that I stop making each obstacle into a roadblock and start embracing the idea. You will have a career and a way to support yourself and will be able to finally use your acting skills in a positive way.

We talked a while more, but I couldn't convince myself that I could do the work or pull off the disguise. Melissa suggested that we go to her apartment, and she would allow me to experience both and then decide what I am going to do. I agreed, and we picked out a change of clothes, and a pair of pajamas for me since she had mentioned that it would take a few hours to try things out. I was a little apprehensive about all of this but knew that things could not stay the same; several things had to change and soon.

I was quiet on the ride over to Melissa's place embarrassed at getting myself into this situation and unsure of whether I could live like a woman 24/7. The ride is about forty minutes in duration since Melissa had gotten her apartment before she decided to open the salon. My apartment would be much closer and more convenient for her. When we reached her apartment, she showed me where to put my things and told me to meet her in her bedroom, and we would start.

I took the opportunity to use the bathroom and after finishing looked at my reflection, in the mirror, for quite some time. I am not the typical male in appearance, looking more like a male model modeling feminine clothes.

I am almost five feet nine inches tall and weighed about one hundred thirty pounds, but without broad shoulders and masculine features in my face, I did not look masculine. My slightly wider than usual hips and my longer hair added to the illusion. I am sure Melissa could make me look like a woman, but that terrified me for some reason.

Melissa called through the door for me to quit looking at my reflection and get out here. She was always able to discern what I am doing and what I was up to since we were little kids. I walked out and headed to her bedroom feeling that I was on my way to death row. She had me sit at her vanity, and she took one of my hands to look it over. She complimented me on maintaining my nails and started showing me the items she had laid out on the vanity.

She picked up a bottle of base coat and showed me how to apply it on one of her nails. She made it look so easy, but she insisted that I, now, do my nails. I had to redo my first nail since I was shaking so bad that I got more on my skin than I did on the nail.

She suggested that I rest the palm of my hand on the vanity and just use my fingers to maneuver the brush. That worked much better and in about fifteen minutes I had finished with the base coat.

As I held my hands out to admire the polish, the shine is very obvious. While we waited for the polish to dry, Melissa remarked that I looked at my hands as a woman did with my palms down and fingers outstretched. Guys look at their nails by making a fist and holding their hands with the palms up, fingers bent.

Before I could think up a response, Melissa handed me the nest bottle of polish. It is a light pink in color, and after I had applied a coat to my first nail, I noticed that it had swirls of Burgundy color intermixed.

The nail polish seemed just to flow on, and I was surprised at how good it looked. I noticed the smile on Melissa's face and figured that I am doing pretty good. After I had finished all ten fingers, she moved a light over to the middle of the vanity and turned it on. She told me to hold my hands under the light until the polish is dry. While I did that she told me, I am a natural for a manicurist.

I blushed a bright shade of pink, similar to the color of the polish I had just applied and responded that being a manicurist is not a profession for a male.

Melissa turned a lighted makeup mirror on and told me to tell her what I saw in the mirror. I knew what Melissa is wanting to hear from me, but I replied with the standard dumb blonde answer, I see me in the mirror. Melissa got that Cheshire cat grin on her face replying that, yes, she also saw that dumb blonde look, that very female dumb blonde look.

When my nails were dry, she handed me a bottle of nail polish remover and told me to remove the polish. She placed a few cotton balls in my hand and told me to soak them in the remover and then remove the polish. I put the remover on the cotton balls and rubbed the ball over the polished nail. Nothing was happening so I rubbed a little harder, even adding more remover to the cotton balls.

Melissa was chuckling now and welcomed me to the sisterhood. I was starting to panic and almost screamed at Melissa to tell me how to get the polish off. The polish is the new gel type, not coming off without soaking it off.

She just smiled and told me that we were not done experimenting yet. She shifted her chair a little more in front of me and started digging out some cosmetics. I wanted to protest but knew that Melissa is going to pursue this until I agreed, or it is determined that I would not pass as a female.

So I let out a big sigh and allowed Melissa to start on my makeup. She applied a dark brown mascara to my lashes, at least, three coats and then used a black eyeliner on my eyelids.

I knew I was doomed when the image in the mirror is now undeniably a female. She continued with a pink blush, actually a Burgundy pink blush according to Melissa, and then a Burgundy lipstick. Actually, I should point out that my lips were lined with a dark Burgundy liner before the lipstick is applied. She told me to use the bathroom if I needed because we were going out to dinner, her treat. I got up from the vanity shaking my head and stepped several steps away from her. There is no way I could go out like this.

Everybody would be able to see that I was a male and make fun of me. Suddenly those memories of college came back to me where I was constantly teased about my gender. I am still called miss even now at times, but I was not going to add more fuel to Melissa's fire. She grabbed my hands and looked at me, staring into my eyes, telling me that no one will realize that you are a male. I protested, but she held up her hand to silence me.

She told me that she would make a bet with me. If anyone suggested that I am a male while we had dinner or at the mall while we window shopped, she would give up on her plan. If, however, that no one saw me as anything other than as a female she expected me to agree to her plan in its entirety.

I had my reservations about this but, I knew my sister, this is the only way that I would be able to avoid the plan. She wanted to have me wear the male clothes that I had on thinking that I am so feminine that it would make no difference in how people perceived me.

I went to the bathroom again, not wanting to risk a visit to the bathrooms at the restaurant or mall. I looked at the reflection in the mirror one last time and joined Melissa at the door. We went out to her car, and she opened the door for me and closed it after I had sat in the passenger seat. She came around to the driver's side and sat down and swung her legs in. I blushed again, knowing that I had set in the seat the same way just a few seconds ago.

I wonder where that feminine gesture came from. I did not remember watching how women entered the car, much less practiced the maneuver. Melissa smiled with that look again letting me know that she had witnessed the maneuver and how I had pulled it off. Very good Michelle, I am glad you are accepting of all of this and blending in. I gave her a dirty look but knew she had won the first round.

When we got to the restaurant, I was terrified to get out of the car. Melissa had to come over and open my door and extract me from my seat. With her hand in the middle of my back, she steered me towards the front entrance. We were greeted by one of the restaurant valets who held the door open for us, greeting us as ladies. The Maitre'D in the lobby asked how many in our party and then asked us to follow him.

He held the chairs for us as we sat, and yes I smoothed my imaginary skirt before I sat down. Melissa got such a kick out of my gesture. The waiters referred to us as ladies, and I heard the word ma'am all evening long. Our food and drink order is taken by the waiter, and after his departure, Melissa almost broke out laughing.

I am obviously perceived to be female, and this tickled Melissa to no end. Her comment is even with a flat chest, no hips and masculine clothes everybody sees you as a woman. No one has even doubted as to what gender you are, a male or a female. Looking at you now, I only see a woman, my sister, Michelle.

During dinner, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and Melissa used the time to fill me in on what to expect in the training to be a manicurist. She told me what textbook knowledge I would have to learn. It is basically anatomy of the hands, arms, legs and feet. Throw in some basic knowledge about skin, nails, and the surrounding muscles and you have it. She would furnish me with a textbook tomorrow, and I should read and study it in my time away from the salon.

I tried to slow down her preparations for me becoming a manicurist by telling her that I could still be exposed at the mall, but Melissa's smile told me she did not believe that for a minute. Nobody would see anything but a young woman, and she is looking at her new manicurist, Michelle, I knew in my heart that she is right and sighed having fallen into her trap so easily.

After we had finished dinner, we adjourned to the mall. She parked at the opposite end from where she had told me she wanted to shop at, knowing we would have to walk the entire mall to get there. I knew she was prolonging my time as Michelle on purpose.

We walked from one end to the other, obviously taking her time, gazing at the store windows as we made our way to the other end. Her comments were at my expense as she asked me if I liked a certain dress, or if I wanted to buy that outfit before it is sold out. In one store, she even talked me into trying on a dress in the changing room. Believe me, I was very reluctant, but she implied that if I didn’t try it on she would expose me to the sales assistant.

It was with a great deal of apprehension that she managed to get me into the dress. Thankfully she left it at that, and I put my male clothes back on and left.

Twice a couple of Melissa's customers stopped to talk to her and to my utter shock Melissa introduced me to the ladies as her sister, Michelle. No recognition from the ladies as to my true gender and Melissa's smile just grew knowing that everybody perceived me as a woman.

We approached the anchor store that Melissa had said she wanted to shop at, and suddenly she darted into a store dragging me behind her. It was an upscale shoe store, and Melissa found a display of heels that interested her. She apparently found two pairs that she liked and found a sales associate to fetch the shoe in her size. We found a couple of seats to sit in waiting for her to return.

Melissa startled me by telling me to remove my shoes and socks. I hesitated, but when Melissa started grabbing for my shoes, I complied. She gave me a pair of footies as she called them and told me to slip them on my feet. The sales associate finally made her return and removed one of the shoes for me to try on. I looked over at Melissa, but she nodded for me to try on the shoe. It was different to slip on the heel, but it fit perfectly. The other shoe was handed to me, and I slipped it on and then stood to see if I could even stand in them.

Surprisingly I did not have any difficulty and Melissa asked me to walk to the other side of the store and back. As I made my way back, the smile she had on her face made it apparent that I am now the proud owner of a black patent pump with a four-inch stiletto heel.

The associate had left us briefly to ring up another customer, and Melissa wanted to know how I had learned to walk so well in heels. Other than our dress up games when we were in grade school, I had never worn any women's shoes much less a pair of heels.

Melissa was skeptical of my answer, remarking that most runway models do not handle heels as well as you do. The second shoe for me to try on was a white Mary Jane style with a three-inch block heel. After the stilettos, these were no problem except they were a little tight, and I had to get a half size larger. I guess the arch of my foot in the heels should have bothered me, but both pairs really felt good after the initial moment or two.

I noticed walking in the heels that I took shorter steps and placed one foot in front of the other as I walked. She had me walk to the other side of the store again with the second pair even though I tried to get her to relent. Her persuasion was greater than my resistance. I frowned at her when I returned because there was two other pair of shoes there now, and the sales associate was packing up the shoes I wore when we arrived.

I guess I am wearing the heels home. I tried the two other pair of shoes on, one a match to the stiletto but in beige and the other a match to the Mary Jane but in black suede. Melissa told the sales associate we would take them all and I would wear the black Mary Janes.

As we got up to leave, I was trying to talk Melissa out of buying them. Her reply was that if I could have seen how I looked walking in the heels, I would never wear anything but them.

Besides you need to get used to wearing them so, your legs will look nice for all the guys. That was a sobering thought, and I suddenly was very quiet. She knew that I was shocked after her comment but reassured me that dressing like a woman, particularly nails and heels, is going to attract attention from the male sector. You don't have to go on dates with them, but they will try their best to gain your attention.

Melissa was faster in heels than I was, and she stopped by a kiosk to wait for me to catch up. She was still looking behind me as I caught up with her. I turned around to see who she was looking at, and she told me to look by the stairs at the three young men standing there. When my eyes met theirs they turned away real fast not wanting to be seen ogling me.

I looked over at Melissa, and she confirmed it had started, and with the way I was walking in the heels there would be much more before we got to the other end of the mall. My face blushed at that comment; I must have been deep red knowing my male self is turning on other young men. It is another nail in my coffin since Melissa is right, and I would have to buy into the plan.

I guess life as a manicurist is not that bad, and at least, it is a means of supporting myself since my acting had not done anything for my livelihood. I managed to get to her car without further embarrassment, and we rode in silence to her apartment. I knew everyone saw me as a woman but still couldn't make myself believe that fact. It almost brought tears to my eyes, I have never cried before, but this is overwhelming my brain.

Melissa was aware that I was trying to make some sense of what happened. She showed me how to remove my makeup and then gave me a nightie to change into. After I had changed into the nightie, I headed to the living room to sleep on the couch. That had been where I slept in the past when I stayed at Melissa’s. It is quite comfortable, and I was looking forward to a night's rest.

Melissa usually makes up the couch for me, but the couch was still a couch. I went to find her so I could ask her where she kept the sheets, eventually finding her in the kitchen. She handed me a cup of hot chocolate dragging me to her bedroom. She patted the bed next to her, and I joined her sipping on the chocolate. She wanted me to sleep with her so we could cuddle like we used to so many years ago.

After we had finished the hot chocolate, we slipped under the covers and with Melissa trying to talk to me I apparently fell asleep. I remember tossing and turning quite a bit through the night but also looking at the image in the mirror every time I went to the bathroom. Every time the image was of a woman even though I had no makeup on. Of course, when I raised my hand up to my face I saw the beautiful nails, only worn by a woman.

My mind was trying to put some kind of logic to all of this, twenty-two years as a male and now looking and starting to feel like a female. Smoothing my skirt when it was not there and walking in heels without effort were just a couple of things that were bothering me. When dreaming I was a woman, it felt good and at that point, my mind did not want to remember any more.

I awoke early the next morning and tried to make breakfast for Melissa and me. I found a melon, some juice, and of course, made a pot of coffee for us. I guess the smell of the coffee brewing woke Melissa, but she greeted me with Good Morning Michelle and a hug, plus a kiss on the cheek. She thanked me for putting together breakfast and wanted to know if I was ready.

I asked ready for what, and she responded womanhood. I swallowed hard like I was trying to prepare myself to handle something unpleasant but nodded in the affirmative. We worked together on the dishes and putting the unused food back in the refrigerator. I was led, almost dragged to her bedroom where she started looking through her closet for clothes for me.

After looking in a chest of drawers for underwear, she handed me a pink bikini panty, a pink demi-cup bra, and a beige camisole. I was removing my nightie as Melissa ran her hands over my chest and leg. She remarked that I had very little body hair to deal with, and that will make things a lot easier to handle. I pulled the panties up over my hips and Melissa helped me clasp the bra, and then reached in the cups to pull any excess flesh into the cup.

I suddenly had some cleavage. The camisole slid over my arms and settled on my shoulders. Putting on the underwear gave the feeling of Deja vu, everything feeling so natural like I had been wearing them my entire life. Melissa handed me a box and told me to put them in the cups; two realistic breast forms looked up at me from the box, and they jiggled in my hands as I put one in each cup. They were more of the filet type that helps push whatever excess fatty tissue up and forward. Now the cups of the bra were filled completely. Suddenly I had a figure; they looked so natural, and I am delighted as they wiggle every time I moved my body.

Melissa had picked a pair of jeans and a pink long sleeve sweater with some embroidery on the front right above the breast for me to wear. The jeans were stretch, and I do mean stretch. Melissa had me laying on the bed to get the jeans on, and it took us several tries to get the button in the hole and the zipper up. They hugged every curve and bump on my body, with me being afraid to bend over lest I rip the inseam out.

I was puzzled that my male apparatus was not to be seen. Usually, even the thought of lingerie and he would be standing at attention, today not even a hiccup. The sweater is next, and that also fit quite snugly, showing off my assets. I could see the nipples on the partial forms clearly through the sweater. My black stiletto heels were the shoe she selected for me, and they felt surprisingly comfortable and really accented my legs and derriere. A pair of knee highs put on before the jeans, helped to make the shoe slip easily onto my foot.

The last clothing accessory item handed me was a black purse. Melissa had already put my wallet in it and a few other necessities for a woman. I was expecting some help on my hair and makeup, but Melissa said that would be handled at the salon. We put the straps for the purses over our shoulders and headed to the car.

We made the drive to the salon and even though we were early several of her cosmetologists were already there. I was introduced to everybody as Michelle. Then Cheri, one of her better hairdressers, led me over to the sinks. She washed my hair, putting several applications of shampoo and then conditioner on my hair. It was so relaxing that I dozed off, being awakened as she finished and needed me to move over to her station.

She combed the tangles out of my hair and started sectioning my hair and then adding a clip to keep it there. She then undid each section and cut my hair. It was obvious that she was layering it and trimming off the damaged ends. I asked what style she was giving me, and her response surprised me. She was correcting the abuse that had been doled out in years past so that they could put extensions in my hair.

Then they would help me pick a style and cut my hair again to fit that style. It took her about fifteen minutes to get through all of the sections. She said that the next part is quite time-consuming and that now was the time to use the bathroom if needed. She pointed out the location to me and then went to the back to get a drink for both of us. After I had returned, she placed the cape around my shoulders and started adding long lengths of hair to my own.

The color was almost a perfect match although in mass it appeared to be a little lighter. I was watching very closely in the mirror as she worked through my hair. Cheri asked if I was going to be learning to be a manicurist, and I told her that was the plan. She liked the color that was presently on my nails and asked if I knew the name of it. I didn't, but Melissa was working on a customer a couple of stations over, and she told Cheri that it was called Love Your Life.

I looked over at Melissa, and she just smiled. As Cheri was about halfway through my hair adding the extensions, Melissa came over pushing the manicurist’s station with her. It had all the implements necessary to do a manicure on it and a rack of different nail polishes above it on a different shelf. Melissa sat in a chair and took one of my hands and placed it in a bowl of acetone.

This will soak off your nail polish so that we can redo your nails. She wanted to make sure I was paying attention because she wanted me to do this same procedure for myself in the next few days. After she had got the old nail polish off of both hands, she worked on my cuticles and then roughed up the surface on my nails with a file.

She reached for a tray of nail extensions and started picking out ones that would fit each finger. When she had ten extensions laying on the table, she started applying glue to each fingernail. She made sure that she had an even coat on the nail surface and then she applied the extension. The extension came about a 3/4 inch past my finger, and I almost panicked since I had heard quite a few women comment about trying to do anything with long nails.

Melissa explained that it was hard to convince women to get nail extensions when the manicurist has short stubby nails. The reason we are doing this now is so you can get used to the longer nails. It is easy to work with the longer nails once you get accustomed to them. Melissa’s was even longer than the ones she was putting on me, and if she can handle them, then she was sure that I could handle mine.

The longer hair is being done for the same reason. If all the cosmetologists had short hair, it would certainly curtail business. A woman tends to feel most comfortable with a stylist that looks feminine and beautiful. If you go to the cosmetic counter and the artist has no makeup on you feel that it would be difficult for her to do a good job of makeup on you.

I could see the reasoning in this, but this was going to take some time to get used to. Once Melissa finished applying the nail extensions, she picked out a shade of nail color and handed me the bottle. When Cheri finishes, I want you to apply the polish to your nails using long slow strokes to paint each nail. She showed me on her hand since the polish she handed me was the same shade as she had on her nails.

I acknowledged her and waited as Cheri finished the hair extensions. It was another thirty minutes when she finally finished adding the longer pieces of hair. She took a few minutes to brush the few tangles from the hair, and I watched in amazement the difference in how I looked. No longer was I the short haired female wanna-be, but I was truly a beautiful and sexy looking woman. Cheri said she would take a short break as I painted my nails; then she would be back to help me pick out a style.

I picked up the bottle that Melissa had given me and looked at the name on the bottle. It said Big Hair Big Nails and was described as a rosy pageant peach. Cheri came back with another Diet Coke and what looked like a hand. She handed it to me and told me to practice on this before I do my own nails.

It took me a minute or two to figure out how to hold the brush after I spent a good five minutes getting the lid off the polish. By adding the extension to my nail, it changed how I did everything. When Melissa had me put on the polish at her apartment, it seemed so much easier and fluid. This was awkward and frustrating.

After doing the nails on the practice hand that Cheri had brought me, I finally seemed to get the hang of it. Although very slowly at first I managed to get my ten nails done and held out my hands palm down, and fingers splayed so they could dry. I asked Cheri if this polish needed the UV light, and she replied no this was not a gel lacquer.

With my nails drying Cheri looked through one of the hair styling books and would point out a picture of a style that she thought would look good on me. We decided on a bouffant style with a lot of curls. Cheri told me the more feminine I am, the more tips I would likely get as a manicurist. That worried me a bit since it looked like I was going to be very feminine. I wasn’t worried about the money part, but the femininity part concerned me.

They would not give me a permanent at this time so the style would need to be created with curlers each time I did it. Besides, you need the practice in setting your hair and combing it out. That last statement should have bothered me. A male, or at least one who used to be a male, practicing setting his hair and styling it. I don't think that would have been regarded as a masculine pursuit or desire, but somehow, the idea of practicing setting and styling my hair is appealing.

Cheri sectioned my hair again, although each section obviously held so much more hair. She started cutting again but was mainly cutting the part of the extensions that would not be needed. It didn't seem to take as long as last time, even though Cheri was cutting about three inches from my hair.

Since the extensions were originally fifteen inches long, I now had hair with at least twelve inches more in length. The style still utilized a slightly layered look, but with the slightest color difference between my hair and the extensions, it looked like my hair had been frosted, a word I became familiar with, since Melissa always had her hair frosted. To me, "frosted" hair really accents a person's femininity.

As Cheri finished cutting my hair, she reached for a spray bottle of setting gel and heavily saturated each section. Then using a comb, she carefully separated each of these hair sections into several smaller sections, wrapping each one around a magnetic roller. The rollers were of different sizes and were being secured by metal clips.

Glancing in the mirror, I quietly chuckled several times, as my head seemed larger than life with all these rollers and clips attached. Looking around the busy shop, I noticed that very few women had any curlers or rollers in their hair. I mentioned this to Cheri, and her reply was that most of today's styles did not require a hair set to hold that hairstyle. A perm wave to give body to the hair and then a blow dryer for larger curls or a curling iron for smaller curls was all that was needed to achieve a beautiful hairstyle.

I looked a little puzzled at Cheri and wanted to know why I was getting the curlers. Apparently, Melissa was trying to help a trend that started back east in the theaters and shows around New York City, to get a foothold here. It was more of a retro-look, where women wore their hair in a curlier styling, almost "Big Hair."

I remembered the name of the nail polish that I was wearing, and could see where this was all headed. Melissa wanted her cosmetologists to start doing their own hair in these trendy styles so that more women would try to copy this new retro "look". The retro-style was more high maintenance and would be better for increasing business.

Since I was the newest and most qualified for this stylish look, I would get the chance to model her creation. I guess, sometimes, everything seems just to go against you. I had come to Melissa to borrow some money, and now I received a whole new way of living in return. It felt right most of the time, but there were moments; I was scared to death. I guess the part of being all new to me was the scariest part, but once done, things just fell into place, seemed normal, or whatever descriptive term you wanted to use.

When Cheri finally finished with the magnetic rollers, she moved an upright hair dryer on wheels over behind the styling chair where I was seated. She lowered the drying unit over my hair in curlers and turned it on. The warm, almost hot, air felt so comforting and relaxing. Although Cheri handed me a magazine to browse, Cosmopolitan of all she could have chosen from, I was soon dozing off with the warmth of the circulating air and the low humming of the blower.

Cheri gently woke me from my dream, and for that, I was thankful. The last article that I was looking at was exactly what I was fantasizing. That particular article was "How to Dress to Maximize Your Bust". In my dreams, I had large breasts and was being told by someone that I should get a job at Hooters.

Cheri helped me up from the chair and told me to take advantage of the respite to use the powder room before she finished by hairstyle. I proceeded to the Ladies Room thinking, after entering, where else could I go.

Upon returning, Cheri had my color nail polish laid out along with a clear bottle of top coat polish. She explained that Melissa had previously put on a base coat after applying my nail extensions, which protects the nail itself. Cheri instructed me to apply two more coats of color polish and then the glossy top coat. I looked at my nails, trying to imagine how they could have any more color or high gloss than they had now.

I fought again with the cap to the polish but finally was able to remove it. The second and third coat of color seemed to glide on effortlessly, and I did see a significant deepening of the color. Cheri interrupted my task by removing all of my curlers but then stopped to allow me to apply the last coat, a glossy topcoat. I glanced up to look at myself in the mirror, and each curl was firm as if the curler was still there. A definite feminine look if not a slightly humorous image was presented.

The glossy top coat was definitely that, leaving my nails looking as if they were shining like a diamond. The nails were obviously living up to their name. The company named this color Big Hair, Big Nails, and it was making my nails look bigger causing my hands to look slimmer and delicate. The long oval additions were feminine and would only be found on a young woman.

About this time Melissa came over to inspect my attempts at manicuring. Judging from the instant smile that appeared on her face, she was pleased with my efforts. Since she was caught up with her customers until her next customer showed up, she sat in the next stylist's chair and watched as Cheri started to brush out my curls.

I asked her why she was not doing my hair since she was so enthusiastic about me dressing like a girl. She said Cheri is the expert on retro styles, while I do more of the blow dryer, curling iron styles. However, all of us are watching Cheri do your hair so we can learn to do the same type of style.

I tried to tell her that this was a bit much for me, but I do enjoy the pampering. That thought makes you an honorary member of the female sex. Cheri said not honorary, but a born to the sex member when I finish with her hair. No way will she ever look less than 100 % female.

Melissa assured me that learning to be a manicurist would not take long since I was a natural at it. She thought my nails looked fabulous and was wondering if I was getting used to them yet. The length is the toughest part of adjusting to, especially when trying to go to the bathroom, as it takes twice as long to maneuver through the clothes.

It took Cheri another thirty minutes to get my hair the way she wanted it, but as I was watching her finish, I had never seen this style on any women I had come into contact with. Feminine, big, and curls all over the place making my hair look twice as large as before.

Once Cheri pronounced me done Melissa suggested that I accompany them to lunch. They frequented a cafe down the street a couple of blocks that offered a good selection of salads and fairly fast service. I was a little hesitant to go since I was still concerned about my appearance especially since I was even more conspicuous in my nails and hair.

I was handed my purse and told to apply some lipstick, I lined my lips with the tube and then blotted the excess with a tissue. Melissa and Cheri were both giggling as they guided me out the front door. When I had gotten out my lipstick, I also realized that my purse contained some other cosmetics, a wallet, a hair brush, a comb, and to my embarrassment a tampon.

Now I was giggling to myself, never thinking that I would be carrying a purse much less a tampon. At least I would be ready for anything that might come up. I hoped that the contents of my purse were just to make it look like a real women's purse.

We walked side by side the two blocks to the restaurant. I was aware of the sound of my heels on the sidewalk, and suddenly I was not even aware that I had four-inch heels on. It just felt normal in the heels, both Cheri and Melissa noticed and made comments.

The restaurant was already busy, but Melissa had made reservations before we left. The hostess said that our table was ready, and we followed her to a table near the front windows. The table was in an alcove and was quieter and more private. The adjoining tables were occupied already and the table the hostess showed us to, had another lady already seated.

The lady was facing away from us towards the window, and as I came up to the table, I recognized the lady. Mom was smiling and quickly rose and gave me the biggest hug I had ever received. To say I was surprised was an understatement and Cheri had to grab my arm for support since I was all of a sudden feeling very faint and woozy. To be seen like this by my Mother was quite nerve-wracking, for I was still her son, even though there was no resemblance to her Melvin now.

She told me that I was very beautiful and pretty and most definitely her daughter Michelle now. I even got a little kiss on the cheek, even though a tear or two was cascading down my cheek at the time. I was still crying as Cheri helped me to my seat next to my Mother. I stared at Melissa, if looks could kill you would be dead, but she just broke out in laughter. That confused me a little more, and I cried a little louder. Finally, Mother took my hand and calmed me down.

She told me not to blame Melissa for her coming to lunch today because it was her idea. She could not bear to hear any more about my progress without being able to see her new daughter. She kept talking about how beautiful I was and that thankfully there was not one trace of Melvin left. Before I could react, for she saw the tears coming she told me that she loved Melvin with all of her heart and soul, but even she can tell that I was meant to be Michelle, not Melvin.

The waitress came to take our orders, with all of us getting salads. As she finished, she asked me where I had my hair done at. I told her of Melissa's salon just down the street, and that Cheri was the stylist. She told me she would make an appointment on her next day off since she just loved my hair style.

Melissa told her that I was a new manicurist there, and I would love to do her nails for her. I smiled, and she told me that she could use a manicure too, at the same time. She just never found time to do her own nails since she had a family to take care of. Melissa promised her a discount rate for both hair and nails because we frequented the restaurant quite regularly.

Before I could say anything to Melissa, she told me you now have your first customer for manicuring and Cheri has a retro styling because you are out and about with the new style. We talked about Melissa's salon quite a bit since Mother used to be a hairdresser. Mother was quite proud of Melissa's success and was really glad that I had agreed to join Melissa in the salon.

Mother brought up father, and I quickly turned around to see if somehow he was here. Mother patted my arm reassuring me that my dad was not there. I took the opportunity to ask if dad would tolerate me like this, and mother replied not yet, but he soon would love his new daughter as much as he loved Melissa. I look puzzled, but mother insisted that she would handle my father when the time came. Besides you will make an adorable Daddy's girl.

We finished our lunches and walked back to the salon together. Mother wanted to get a closer look at me in the brighter lights of the salon. She loved my nails, but my hair was just perfect in her opinion. She took the time to compliment Cheri and the fantastic style and told her that she wore her hair in a similar style when she was younger.

We set around the salon and talked for a while when suddenly the salon started to get busy again. Mother excused herself after giving me a hug and a kiss. Her parting words were I love my new daughter Michelle. For once in your life this really suits you.

Cheri had a comb out to do with a customer, so I just sat in the empty salon chair next to her station. I was trying to put a little perspective on all of this, but no revelations were revealed, all I knew was that everything just felt so natural and normal. When Cheri finished her comb out, she beckoned me back to her chair.

She announced that makeup was next. She grabbed a pair of tweezers and started working on my eyebrows. After pulling a few hairs, she put the tweezers down and started messing with a pot on her counter.

She laid the back of her chair down and pulled my hair out of the way. Very quickly the hot wax is spread over my eyebrows, a cloth strip added and then yanked off. It hurt more from the surprise than from the actual hair being removed. When she sat the chair back up, the pencil-thin line of my eyebrows is faintly visible, and the arch of the eyebrows is quite noticeable.

She showed me how to apply and use all of the cosmetics I would need to perfect my look. She would apply, then have me remove it and do it myself. The biggest problem is the elegant nails, they restricted movement and made even the simplest maneuver awkward. I was getting used to them, every task getting easier to do than a few minutes ago. Cheri came and went as her customers showed up for their appointments. All the time she made me keep up with the makeup applications. In between customers she would appraise my efforts, tell me how to correct a problem, then had me remove the makeup and start again.

The afternoon seemed to fly by, and by quitting time I had mastered doing my own makeup. As Melissa and I left the salon we received hugs from Cheri, wanting me to be on time in the morning, I had my first appointment for a manicure, so being prompt is essential. I looked at her like she was crazy, the second day and I am already doing someone’s nails. All I received was a giggle. I worried about it all the way home, what if I foul up, or damage the nails. Finally Melissa eased my worries, Cheri wanted her nails done, extensions and all, good practice for me. Believe me I was still nervous about doing her nails.

When we got to her apartment, the first order of business was ditching our heels. I had always wore shoes of some kind in my apartment so I slipped on one of my other new pair of shoes. Melissa changed into some soft slippers.

I was dragged to the kitchen, helping with dinner and dishes part of the deal from now on. The meal was just salads, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumber, and some chicken morsels spread across the top. I chose a ranch type dressing, but not the usual type. This one was sweeter and had bits of green olives in it.

I did the dishes, the long nails were inconvenient but not debilitating. I helped clean up, actually enjoying the task.

We talked for a while in the living room, after I do Cheri’s nails in the morning I will spend time with the textbook, now that I seemed to not be having problems doing nails, the book part was necessary so that I could get my license.

The next morning I managed to get Cheri’s nails almost perfect, just having to redo a couple of nails when the brush slipped out of my fingers. As soon as the manicure was completed I had to do my makeup, then was put in the office with the textbook. All of the remaining hours were spent reading and trying to learn the terms and names of all the bones, muscles essentially anything to do with the hands and feet of my prospective customers. After the salon slowed down I was quizzed by the other stylists and Melissa to make sure I was learning what I needed. I did miss a couple of things, but mostly I had managed to learn what was required.

A couple more days studying then Melissa took me to the Cosmetology Board to get my license. A test, then doing a task involving nail care is required. Melissa waited outside while I took the test, then while it was being graded we talked to the secretary of the board. I scored 98 out of 100 on the test, so that part was handled.

The secretary looked at my nails, then for the practical part for me to take them all off, then reapply them this time using a longer extension. I looked at the workstation they had set-up then started removing my old nails. It took me the better part of an hour to do the required work, but when finished my nails were even better looking than when I came in.

Personal opinion, but they shined, the deep red polish I used seemed to capture the light and reflect it back. The secretary issued the license, then asked if she could have an appointment with me at the end of the week for a set of extensions and polish to complete the manicure. Melissa called back to the salon, to find a time slot that she could live with, and we hugged then left.

I quizzed Melissa about calling back to the salon, I doubted I had even one appointment mush less enough to warrant checking when they were. It turns out that Cheryl was taking appointments for me since yesterday, I only had three spots left on Friday and Thursday was already full. I pinched myself, is this really happening. As soon as we got back to the salon I had an appointment waiting, and I stayed busy the rest of the day.

My last appointment left at a few minutes after five, I got a drink and plopped myself down in my chair. I looked at my schedule for today, after returning from the Cosmetology Board I had six appointments and took in almost two hundred dollars. I would get a percentage of that, but my tips were the amazing thing here. Sixty dollars in tips, in less than a half day of work.

I thought back to my days in college studying Drama and dreaming of a career in acting. What a waste, I loved my work now, making my customers nails beautiful. When I first dressed as Michelle maybe part of it was acting, but now the role was real, every morning looking forward to be that female, doing my work, then coming home to be with Sis and taking it easy for a while.

When Sis coerced me into this job, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Michelle has made the change from actor to manicurist the right decision, the right job, the right life for me.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Missy, Rising Above The Humiliation

I had been away at college, just finishing my senior year. My major was business management since my parents wanted me to eventually take over and run the family business. Most of my life and studies had been in preparation for this job, my mother particularly wanting me to follow in her footsteps.

Granddad started the business years ago after he came back from WWII. He applied and received a small VA loan to start a business. Granddad and his wife were planning to make work clothes, for manufacturing companies, since there was still a lot of plants making goods for the economy. These plants had been making tanks, jeeps, things for the defense industry. They were switching over to cars, tractors, things to get America back on their feet after the war. Their idea worked well for the first year, but competition and the faltering economy made things tough.

Gramps couldn’t see how they were going to make it work, got disillusioned and died a year later mainly from heartbreak. His dream was failing and he couldn’t salvage it.

Grandma was tougher than that, she had worked the entire war in one of the manufacturing plants making uniforms. She still made the work uniforms but branched out into female fashions. Just comfortable clothes, predominantly dresses and skirts. No high fashion stuff, reasonably priced and made in a colorful array of patterns and colors.

It was the right thing for the time, so soon, the whole plant was turning them out. She branched out some more, making women’s pants, the female of the war years had gotten used to wearing them as they made the war supplies, and were hooked on their comfort and practicality. Well the rest is history, the company emerged as one of the top ten in the clothing industry in the next few years.

Mom was proud of their efforts, joining Grandma in running the company when she turned eighteen. Mom had me while she helped run the company, often keeping me in her office as she did her work. Dad was an engineer in the oil industry, traveling all over the world in his job. I maybe saw him once a year, if I was lucky, twice. We got along, but never were together enough to connect or do anything father/son wise. He died when I was in high school, a victim of a rebellion in one of the countries he was working in. That particular country had suffered through four rebellions already, this one the most violent and deadly.

Mom and I mourned a while, since he was seldom home we both had learned not to expect much from the relationship, so his death was sad, but not life altering. He did have enough life insurance that I was guaranteed a college education at most any university. Mom wanted that for me, insisting that I get my degree at any cost.

During my college years, Mom’s health deteriorated significantly, her sister coming in to help her run the company. From the start my path was guaranteed to the CEO position no matter what, Mom had hired attorneys to make sure agreements were in place to guarantee that. After college, I would be installed in each facet of the business for a short time to see how it functioned, then, moved to the next section.

It was all spelled out clearly, Mom knew she had experienced people underneath her wanting to climb the ladder, no matter whatever cost to anybody in their way, thus, the legal agreements trying to insure a smooth path for me.

I had met Mom’s attorney several times over my schooling, Marilyn was fun to be around and did her job to perfection. The T’s were crossed and the I’s were dotted in everything she did. After graduation, I took a week off to visit my girlfriend at her home, she was planning to seek employment in my area, but had not found anything yet.

We had talked about her working for the company, but that idea was scraped quickly as too much possible trouble for both of us. Peggy was my soulmate, I was sure we would eventually marry, raising a family of our own one day.

After the visit, I went to the attorney’s to find out where I would start and how things looked like now financially. I had to wait a few minutes while Marilyn was on a phone call, then I entered her office. I was given a hug and we sat on her sofa to discuss the current situation. She looked concerned, something I didn’t usually see with her. We talked for a while, but I could tell she was holding something back.

“Okay out with it, you have danced around this for over an hour. Now what is the problem?” She giggled a little, then grabbed one of my hands holding it in hers.

“Your Aunt is trying to make waves in the company about you. From my spies, I have learned she is trying to gain support for you to be denied the CEO position. You have enough stock to stop this, but she has been going at this for quite some time. I have only just heard about it recently. She can’t deny you the position, but she can make your life a living hell in the meantime. I think she will just try and humiliate you, hoping to cause you to pass on the position. She has already changed what some of the employees think about you in a short amount of time.

She paused a minute to get my reaction, but continued, “You start in production on Monday, that is sewing the actual garment. Most of your fellow employees are female, so you might encounter some reluctance in making friends.

Blend in, and don’t ever use your relationship card to get ahead. If that happens, they will only see you as some male trying to gain control of a company that he knows nothing about. You will have to work your way up, excelling in all your tasks, eager to advance to the next step in learning what the company does and how it is done.

I am sure your Aunt will try and intervene, making rules and regulations that will affect how you dress and act. If she makes it bad enough, maybe she can get you to quit or give up. So be prepared to be humiliated some; if you go along and stay focused the employees will see you for a real person and join behind you as you move up the ladder.

It will not be easy, some of her cronies are in supervisory positions so they will be on you for any infraction they might find. She has some of them convinced if you quit, she will reward them with better positions and salaries.”

I had a couple of ideas how I might survive; I will have to see what my aunt throws at me and when. I got hugs and Marilyn’s private phone number, I was to call her regularly with what is tried so she could manage the side effects to keep them minimal. I got hugs and we parted.

I went to the plant on Sunday as I knew we were closed then, and walked around, seeing where everything was located and what was currently being worked on. I have been here before, but not for a month or two. I passed the security guard several times, he acknowledged me but seemed distant. I had known him for years, so I confronted him.

“Okay Jimmy, what is going on?” He looked down and blushed a little. I picked up his chin, with my finger, looked him right in the eye and told him to spit it out. He reached into his pocket and handed me an ID card, one we used to identify our workers. I looked at it, then smiled. She has already started with the crap. I am not even working and she has made her first move.

My name is Missy Evan Walker, named after my grandma. Up to now, nobody has made a big deal out of it, but it seems my aunt has decided this is a good place to start. The picture is one that had been photo-shopped to look like a female and the sex is checked female. Everybody has used Evan in the past, including my aunt at times, so the games have begun.

To get into work, I will have to dress as a female to gain access to the factory. If I fight it, she will be gaining more support and deny me the work experience to be able to take over later. That might have been the one weak point in my Mother’s plan. If I don’t get the experience in each section of the plant, she will have a legal challenge to me taking over the CEO’s position. Mom’s plan clearly stated that I get experience in each section before I take over. No experience, no position, at least as far as my aunt is concerned.

I told Jimmy not to worry, I will be back tomorrow, but no wise cracks about my appearance, he smiled, I shook his hand and I headed for my car. I called Marilyn right away, she was giggling after I finished, then told me an address to go to today. She would call and get things set up. It seems Marilyn had anticipated something similar, so had a contingency plan of sorts put together.

I drove to a salon that matched the address that she gave me and entered. They were waiting for me, had me sign some papers and started work on me. The salon was only open for five hours more; it was explained they would make me female, then later in the week, make the changes more permanent and realistic.

I was shaved, boobed, vaginaed, pierced, and given a feminine hairstyle. A wardrobe sufficient for several days was furnished, and I was shown some basic skills to get me by for a couple of days. The Missy that left the salon looked female, maybe too good of a job. I made it home, hung my clothes up and looked at my phone for any messages. Marilyn was thrilled at my appearance, the salon had sent a couple of pictures and she was quite impressed at their ability with such a short time to work with.

She wanted me to use my phone to record any conversations with any management personnel, especially my Aunt, if that was to happen. The next morning I made my female self ready to the best of my ability and went to work. I walked by Jimmy, his smile about blinded me. I went right to my department, presented my ID and found out what sewing machine I would be working on.

Janey, the supervisor was caught flat footed, never anticipating I would show up much less as a female. She acted friendly showing me where I would work and left me to get started. I am sure her first act was to report my behavior to my Aunt.

During my high school years, I had been taught to sew, how can you expect to run something if you can’t do any part of it. Into my first garment and my machine broke down, I suspected something like this might happen, so I took off the head of the machine, found some cloth jammed into the foot feed. I cleaned it out and resumed sewing.

If I didn’t make minimum production, there would be grounds for my inability to do the job, much less supervise the work. It has been a while since I had sewed anything, so it took me several garments to get the hang of it again. I did make sure what I did finish was perfect, no use in giving anyone the grounds to discipline me or disregard my production.

It was coming up on break and I was gaining in speed and confidence. I worked through break, by lunch I was even with the rest of the girls in number of items sewed. I nibbled on a sandwich I bought from one of the vending machines, then used the ladies room. When I returned to my table there were several females there waiting for me. I introduced myself using the Missy name and gave them a hug. I asked how long they had been employed here and about their families. The buzzer sounded and we returned to work.

I felt better, making a few inroads where no one expected me to, by quitting time, I was the second best producer in ladies skirts, the module I was working in today. I never did see any management, even my immediate supervisor Janey was absent for most of the day. I had a nice evening at home, still trying to get used to the new body, the sensations that were being sent to my brain were overwhelming the system. Getting used to the breasts was the hardest, two significant protrusions always in the way and seemingly with a mind of their own.

Another morning, some cereal, dressed in some pants and a blouse, ready for another day at the sewing machine. It was far easier today, the lost skills were there right from the start, by break time I was the lead producer in my area. To spur production, as each garment is finished, a scoreboard on the wall is activated and each girl’s figures are shown on this display. As we get materials, for the next garment, the board results are changed.

I had lots of company at lunch, all of the girls wanting to know who taught me to sew. When it came out who I really was, I received hugs from all the girls. The fact that I was working next to them doing the same job made them feel good, no bossing around by me, just getting the job done. I was asked about me dressing as a female, when I explained about my ID, it changed a lot of their opinions about my Aunt.

I never did see my Aunt that first week, even Janey my supervisor was not to be found. Then when Friday rolled around, everybody got called to the warehouse for an impromptu meeting. In the plant it was the only place big enough to accommodate all of the employees. They had brought in some chairs so that most of females could sit and they set up a small stage with a lectern on it. Standing there waiting for everyone to be seated, and the guys to gather at the back was my Aunt. Suddenly I had bad feelings about what may happen next.

Sure enough, I was caught soon after I made my way to a seat and taken to the front. Janey was apparently assigned that task. My Aunt called me up on to the stage, smiling at me all the time. There were seats behind her on the stage and I was shown one of them. I sat down watching to see what might transpire.

I did remember to turn my phone on and dialed Marilyn. I slipped the phone back into my purse. My Aunt started off complimenting several ladies for their production of late. She had never done anything like this in the past, then I figured out what she might be doing.

Sure enough, I was called up next to her and, as she extolled my achievements this last week. All the time, I was referred to in the feminine gender, but she wanted me to say a few words to the other female employees. She was putting me on the spot, stressing to the other employees that I was female and about my achievements as a seamstress.

I approached the podium acting nervous and shy. She handed me a gift certificate for a ladies clothing store in town, then told me, “Get a nice new dress to wear, maybe you will be lucky and attract some male attention, a young shy female like you always needs a big strong man to take care of her.”

I was humiliated, in front of the whole plant and all my co-workers, a mere female that had made some production goals just wanting clothes, she had made me look weak, and ineffective as a possible manager. For some reason, what I decided to do just popped into my head. I thanked her for the gift certificate, but handed it back to her. I told her to use the money for the employees fund instead, a much better use of the funds.

Besides, I prefer the fashions we make here to any others, maybe if everybody practiced this tactic, the company would be in a much better financial position. That last statement made as I looked at how she was dressed. I returned to my seat with the employees, I could see the scowl on my Aunt’s face. This was not the outcome she had in mind for today. As I returned to my seat I saw a lot of smiles on my fellow workers faces.

I spent another week sewing, this time every piece I completed was inspected to the nth degree. They never did find a single thing to complain about, all of my garments passing their inspection. I kept up my production, still the lead producer in my section.

On Friday I was called into the main office and my aunt told me where I would be assigned next. I had my phone turned on and Marilyn on the other end as she detailed where I would be working. My next assignment was going to be in cutting out the garments. Not a strenuous job but more so than sewing the garment. Since it was not quite quitting time I went to that section to introduce myself to the supervisor. One of my aunt’s cronies apparently had been assigned here just yesterday.

She showed me around, then gave me my work schedule. They had me coming in at three AM so that production would have materials waiting for them when they started at eight AM. I was the only employee scheduled to start this early. I thanked her for giving me that shift and left.

I found one of the girls that worked in that department regularly and asked her for some advice. The word had already started to spread so she was glad to advise me. I invited her over for dinner and then we could talk. I made the meal myself, wanting to convey to her that I was just another female trying to do well and advance.

When she knocked on the door and I opened it I was surprised to see her and five other ladies. They each had covered dishes so there would be adequate food for everybody. Sylvia introduced me to everybody as we consumed the offered food.

Sitting around the dining room table they gave me hints as to how to speed up the operation and still insure perfect results. Three hours later they all left, with me getting hugs from everybody. On Monday I showed up at two-thirty in the morning wanting to get everything set up properly before I started.

It was as the girls feared, my equipment had been tampered with so that it would only work for a short period of time. The girls had told me where the spares were kept, knowing that the new supervisor probably was unaware they even existed. By the time everyone else came in I had finished the entire day’s requirement and was packing them up to be sent to sewing. The girls and I started on the next day’s requirement telling the supervisor we would need more material to stay busy. When she scurried from the room to talk to my Aunt we giggled. Now the tables are turned. That afternoon at quitting time I was told to report at the regular time since production is way ahead of schedule.

I was only there for a week, that Friday I was moved again to another department. This time the design and pattern department. There new designs were made, tried and then if approved a pattern was made to put the item into production. I spent the first three days modeling clothes for the designers, down to my bra and panties quite often.

I didn’t think that my Aunt was aware of how thorough my transformation was, several times I was gazed at for quite some time as she scanned my body to note all the changes. I seemed to be quite popular, my Aunt and several of her cronies in upper level management appearing regularly all through the day. Lots of remarks about my undies were made, plus countless pictures of me in the various new designs being touted.

Again she did not receive her anticipated results and on Friday I was moved again to another department. This time it seemed she was getting desperate. I was transferred to the cleaning department, and predictability put in charge of cleaning bathrooms. I was not particularly excited about the job but Marilyn was overjoyed. I couldn’t get her to tell me what made her so happy, but Monday it became quite apparent. A subpoena was served to my Aunt, to appear in court to explain why terms of my agreement were being blatantly violated. Cleaning bathrooms had nothing to do with experiencing the different facets of the clothing business. I wasn’t two hours later that I was taken from my work, and taken upstairs to the executive offices. I never did see my Aunt that day, just her assistant who apologized for the scheduling error and informed me of my new assignment.

My Mother had opened a company store, in an unused portion of the warehouse. There the general public could buy our creations at reasonable prices. Apparently I would now be a sales associate there. I knew we did considerable business there, at least three to four females needed to staff the store. When I got to the store, I was handed keys and shown where the safe and supplies were and then they all left. I would be the only sales associate there. If I had problems my Aunt could point to me and say it was my fault. The store didn’t open until one P.M. so I was allowed a few minutes to check things out. I found a schedule on the front counter, other names were listed to work there, but none of them were here.

I could sense my Aunt getting more panicky, nothing so far has worked like she envisioned. So stick me here, then remove any possibility of help, a sure way to insure success for her. I set up the register, not much had changed since I helped Mom when she had just started the store. I opened at one, then stayed busy on the sales floor. Soon I was inundated with customers, quite a few with items to check out and the dressing rooms full.

I knew better than to enter a dressing room while a female customer was trying on clothes, leaving me vulnerable if anyone was to make the connection that I was a male. I certainly didn’t look male, but maybe one of her cronies could be used to make the insinuation anyway.

I did manage to handle the crowd, although a few had to wait five minutes before I could get to them. About four when the rest of the plant closed down five ladies came to join me to handle any remaining customers. A supervisor showed up telling the ladies they are not scheduled here. The ladies all responded they are here to help me, since management had left me here by myself.

A couple of the customers heard this and got out their phones and called the company offices asking to speak to the CEO. We finished with all the customers and straightened up ready for business tomorrow. The ladies and I left, as I asked them to dinner my treat. They all accepted, calling home and notifying their spouses of their plans.

We ate at a little restaurant down the street from the plant, a very enjoyable meal and very interesting conversation. A lot of what my Aunt was trying came out, the girls fed up with the lies and manipulation going on behind the scenes. I excused myself a little later and arranged for the restaurant to make a carry out package for each lady, so she could feed her family without having to cook. When the waitress placed the boxes of food before them I could see some tears being shed, I was hugged to death as they thanked me and left for their homes.

The next day at the plant I had plenty of help, another failed plan of my Aunt’s had bit the dust. One of the girls who has a friend in the main office told me that there were forty-two phone calls about the scheduling error made in the store, the callers suggesting that whoever made the schedule needs to be fired. I finished out the week there before I was moved again, this time to the shipping department.

I did notice on the garments being purchased that a tag was attached showing me in the garment in full color. The bottom of the tag read that the garment was a genuine Walker clothing creation. I now knew what a lot of the pictures taken earlier were for. I didn’t think much about it at the time, since I couldn’t see any disadvantage to it or how it could be used against me.

We had only males in the shipping department, since there was sometimes heavy lifting involved as they packed the cases of clothing to be shipped out. Again the office scheduled light in help. Making me have to join in to keep from falling behind. Another call to Marilyn and soon the missing employees were back to work. I did my share, as I packed the clothing into the shipping boxes. Although I did leave most of the lifting to the guys. Again every item of clothing had the picture tag of me wearing that particular design.

I wonder where she will place me next, since none of her schemes so far have had the desired effect. Mentally I figured there were only three departments I had not had exposure too. One was garment inspection, where every piece made is looked over for any defects or workmanship defaults. Placing me in this department might make it difficult to make me look bad.

Personnel was another option, but I couldn’t see her putting me there, since they were responsible for hiring and scheduling the employees. Maybe if she could get enough employees to call in sick, the blame for improper scheduling could be placed in my lap.

The last department that I had not experienced yet was finance. I figured that may be a possibility since she thought if I mishandled things I could be fired, a quicker solution for getting rid of me.

It turned out to be finance for two days, I was to process all of the invoices that we received recently and issue checks to pay them. Again almost no help, several of the girls calling in sick for those two days. I did notice as I processed the invoices several new suppliers, the items they were billing for ones that we bought from other suppliers, ones that we have been doing business with for ages. I did make out the checks, but kept those invoices separate and not mailed with the others. Maybe Marilyn can check them out before they are sent.

The next morning another summons to the main offices, this time another of my Aunt’s cronies informing me that I will be doing presentations for the businesses that we sell to for a few weeks. I questioned her statement, my phone had been on the whole time and connected to Marilyn’s office. She explained that when a business agrees to buy from us they sign an agreement that states the terms of the purchase and promises them a fashion show of our designs modeled by our CEO in their store once every ten weeks.

My stomach was now rumbling loudly, knowing how many different customers and stores we sold to that task seemed impossible. I excused myself to go to the ladies bathroom and promptly threw up. I finally gathered my wits enough to talk to Marilyn.

She told me to find somewhere to hold up at and give her an hour to see what has transpired. She did call, wanting to know where I was at. I told her the employee lounge at the production department. She came and dragged me to the main offices, as my Aunt was being led away by security and several police officers. As they passed I told her to have a nice day, with a larger than normal smile on my face. She attempted to break loose wanting to do me bodily harm. I did receive several phrases shouted at me, that will not be repeated here, that only making my smile that much more intense.

Marilyn led me to my Aunt’s office and we sat on the sofa while she filled me in on the recent happenings. Aunty was siphoning money from the company, through these fake suppliers and several more that came to light. Hence her arrest on embezzlement charges. Since the fake companies were owned by her, no further proof was necessary. Not too smart on her behalf, thinking that she would get away with it.

With regards to the new contracts signed with every buyer of our products, there was not much she could do but try and buy my part of the contract from them. She then booted up her laptop and showed me several internet ads that my Aunt has been running for quite some time. \

The ads started running shortly after she heard of my plan to assume the CEO position. The ad showed the new labels, telling people to not buy any clothing from Walker Fashions without the label with my picture on it wearing the same garment the label was on. Do not accept any substitutes, only the genuine article.

I asked her how many current businesses do we currently sell to. She paused and then told me a number, and I promptly fainted. I was laying with my head in her lap when I managed to become aware of my feelings once again. Giggling you are such a girl, but you do need to face up to your fate. You will definitely be a busy CEO, no time for fooling around anymore.

We did discuss the contracts, her feeling if I did the fashion shows, sales will benefit and as I am out and about I can see what needed to be changed or added to the line. Talking with your customers will do the company a world of good. I do suggest another visit to the salon, I don’t see the male you appearing at all in the following months.

As for you duties here as CEO your Mom’s old secretary still works here, your Aunt just moving her out of the executive offices. Use her to run the day to day, she is most capable and can consult you on important matters as needed. Now are your ready to be the CEO or are you going to be doing the girly thing again.

I am ready, Mom will turn over in her grave if I pass it by. Thinking back I had passed the hard part, rising above all of the humiliation dumped on me in the last few weeks. Missy is definitely here to say, and I can say I am quite happy about that. Still a lot to learn and experience in life, Missy’s new life.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Nadia; Disguised, Abducted, Married

I have been working for one of the alphabet agencies for just short of six years. It was one of the myriad different federal agencies belonging to that group. We dealt mainly with situations here in the U.S. but ones that had more unusual circumstances, leaving the FBI to handle most of the rest.

A simple bank robbery would fall under the FBI, but if the robbery was through the internet or involved people that worked for the bank we would get called in.

Our agency director made the decisions on what cases we would get involved in after looking at the basic facts. Her name was Sheila Townsend, very smart and very attractive. She managed with an iron hand, never taking crap from any agents or other agencies. Since the agency was very successful under her direction she was hardly questioned or challenged.

I was originally hired for the field, but have been pencil pushing for ninety percent of the time with them. I was always good with computers, not fixing them but using them to gather information. Once that was found out, that became my main job from then on. I worked out of the Phoenix office, living in one of the satellite towns nestled around Phoenix.

I resided in my parents’ home, given to me when they up and moved out of the country. For some reason they had became infatuated with New Zealand, vacationed there once and moved there to live a year later. They managed to buy a ranch down there, raising some sheep and living off the profits.

I was now twenty-six years of age, still single and quite content to say that way. I loved females, just didn’t communicate with them at all. In a workplace situation that was a different story, but once away from work I was instantly tongue tied and reclusive.

I guess if I admitted the truth I was scared to death of them. At work we had our work to distract us, but once that was gone I closed myself off tighter than a clam.

I was somewhat handsome, long hair, five foot five inches tall and a hundred and forty pounds in weight. I would not consider myself a macho male, probably exactly the opposite. I never participated in sports, could cook a decent meal, loved to read anything and everything, had a garden to raise my own vegetables, but definitely not a typical macho male.

We received regular visits from Ms. Townsend at least once a month. She interacted with everyone, knew our names and what we were working on presently. The last trip she had me come into her office and bring her up to date on a case I had been working on for three months. It involved some vague threats to the sister of the President.

The FBI had briefly handled the case, came to the conclusion that it was a hoax and dropped the case. Sheila thought differently and grabbed the case. Myself and several other agents were assigned to the case to get as much information as we could about the threats, the sister and any relatives that might be involved. The secret service kept track of our efforts, but at the moment that was all they were doing.

I had been the most successful of the agents working on the case, tracing back the email threats through several out of the country hubs to a political group located in the southern US. No names yet on who might be involved, but there was also a possibility that the political group was being used so that if discovered they would take all the blame, leaving the ones making the threats free and clear.

A week later I found the computer the email came from, another agent checked it out, without raising suspicion, finding out that it was in an unlocked office, anyone could sneak in and use it then disappear. The agent did exactly that, the organization not even realizing their computer had been used for nefarious reasons.

As soon as I reported that info I was called to Washington, to meet with Ms. Townsend. I thought it rather unusual since what I found out was really not that important in the scope of things.

I was on the next flight, not even having time to go home and pack anything for the trip. To my surprise Ms. Townsend met the flight herself, driving me to her residence instead of the office. I was shown in, and she got me a soft drink from her office refrigerator.

“I am familiar with the group that has on occasion used another group to hide their activities. In fact they have used this same political group several times, but no connections could be made hence no action was taken on either the political group or the group using them.

An assault on the President’s sister would give them quite a bit of clout, and help make them a more serious threat to society. Their supposed leader has been trying to do this for years, this may be his best attempt yet.”

“A few in our office here have studied the President’s sister, looking for someone to impersonate her, thus maybe setting a trap to catch the group red handed. We have run a number of photos through the computer looking for possible matches, and guess who has showed up on several search results.

That is the reason you are here, unofficially of course at the moment. Your office back home will be notified of you accepting a job overseas to help Interpol, thus explaining your continued absence.”

“A salon in town will do the transformation later today, and if it turns out as expected you will replace the sister in her home during the night. Her name is Nadia, the President and her are quite close, always have been. Her husband has been informed and is okay with the switch.

The real Nadia will stay in the White House for a few weeks, out of sight until we see if they will try anything. Your new husband will fill you in on what she does, and her normal routine during the day. Nadia does work part-time, a job that I think you will no doubt enjoy. Do you have any questions, if not I will ferry you to the salon for your transformation?”

It seems I had a million questions but none that left my mouth. She took me to a salon, we entered through a back door and was immediately taken to a private room. I got a hug and Sheila left me there, in a strange city, and about to be converted to a member of the female gender.

I swallowed hard, this is what I signed up for many years ago, but I didn’t think my first job undercover would be as a female. Two technicians entered, then had me sign a bunch of forms, then scanned my image into their computer.

Another female’s picture came up on the screen, right next to mine. I presume it was the President’s sister. I could see some resemblance, but if they could make me look like her they would indeed earn their keep.

They went right to work, within an hour I was hairless, and had realistic breasts glued to my chest. I might add very realistic breasts, after they covered the seams there was no way to tell that they weren’t mine.

While I was concerned with getting breasts, my penis was tucked away, a perfect vagina having replaced it making me for all intents a complete female. I was told it was fully functional, I immediately thought of my new husband, surely he would not expect me to have sex with him.

Then they mentioned my breasts were state of the art technology, fusing with my skin allowing touch and feel just like a real breast.

The one gal worked on my hair placing it in a myriad of curlers, spraying each lock of hair with a liquid before winding it on the curler. I received a female haircut before she got to the curlers so my role as a woman is assured for a while. The other tech did my nails, both toes and hands.

Incidentally, it was a bright red polish that I ended up with, no one will miss seeing my new nails, especially the longer nails on my hands that I now sported.

Then as my hair was drying, I received a full makeup job, using semi-permanent products so I would not have to do it myself every day. The makeup seemed heavier than a female usually uses, the eyes and the lips particularly emphasized. I wonder if this had to do with her part-time job.

After my hair was dry, she removed the curlers, using a comb to urge the hair into the new style. The liquid she used was a long lasting setting gel so that I had now a female hairstyle for quite some time. If the operation ended quickly, I was stuck as a female or I would have to get all my hair cut-off. That and the makeup assured my presentation as a woman for quite some time.

No time frame was mentioned, but I doubted it would be less than six months from part of the conversation I had been privy to as they worked their magic on me.

The finished product was almost identical to the sister’s picture, my new husband picking me up with a huge grin on his face. The kiss from him sent me into panic, it was on the lips with a little tongue. He could tell the impact he was having on me, he calmly took my hand and dragged me out of the salon, after paying my bill.

I had been given some lingerie and a dress to wear, apparently some of her things. They felt funny, but otherwise fit me perfectly. Prior to today, I had never worn any items of female clothing, they were sensual but would definitely take some getting used to.

I was helped into the car, he even helped me with my seat belt. I was quiet, a few hours ago I was told of what I was going to be doing, but being told and having it happen to me is two different things.

We apparently lived in a nice suburban home right over the state line in Virginia. Once home, he got the car door for me and led me inside. We ended up in the master bedroom, he showed me where my clothes were suggesting a nightie that I might wear to bed tonight. Of course, it was brief and almost see through, but it did look good on me.

I used the bathroom, then to my surprise he entered a few minutes later and whispered to me that they found out the house was being watched, and saw evidence of specialty microphones capable of hearing through windows. The bathroom and the basement were the only safe places to talk.

We would have to act as a married couple, to keep from giving the game away. He did have a little smirk on his face when he said that. The watchers were in a house a little higher up the hill, with a full view of our house, making it very hard to not be spied upon.

He leaned in for another kiss, then led me to the bedroom. He whispered in my ear that I usually slept on the right side, and liked to be spooned from him after we had intercourse. He kissed my nose, telling me that he will be good, otherwise his real wife might end up seeing to his timely demise. I giggled at that, both of us in a close embrace as we whispered in each other’s ear.

He was good, but it is hard to get to sleep with another person’s penis erect and trying to bore a hole in your back. A female agent might not have as much trouble with that, but since I was a male until recently it was something that occupied a good portion of my mental capacity. I did manage to drift off, but his penis definitely had a mind of its own, wanting something to slip inside of and be comfy.

When I woke later in the night to use the bathroom, I had to slip out of his grasp, his one hand had caught and held my right breast and he definitely did not want to let go. His penis was still active, just not as rock hard as before.

I performed my deed and then crawled back into bed. Immediately I was pulled back into a hug, his penis now very hard and attempting to spear me. I did manage to get back to sleep eventually, my body sending all of these new feelings and sensations to my mind definitely not helping any.

As I was lying there the next morning I tried to put some perspective on all that happened in the last day or two. Here I was a somewhat normal male, transformed into a female that was married with a husband that did have a lot of difficulty keeping his sex organ under control. All in the name of checking to see if there was indeed a threat against the President’s sister.

The next morning I received a sensual kiss, abruptly bringing me to full awareness. As he pulled back from the kiss he had this huge smile plastered on his face. I was dragged from the bed into the bathroom and my nightie was slid off my body. He had turned the shower on, I presume to warm up the water. After checking to see if it was right I was pulled in after him, as he proceeded to wash my body with a sponge and fragrant soap.

Then I had to wash him, his erection the hardest to handle. When I ran the sponge over it the first time it instantly swelled up more, as I tried to back away from him. I tried to move the sponge over his penis lightly, not wanting it to get any bigger or harder. No such luck, now it was bobbing up and down striving to get additional stimulation and lunging toward me.

I desperately tried to concentrate on my task, but having more than a little trouble remembering what exactly it was. Once I managed to escape the shower I almost ran to her closet to try and find something to wear. Being naked with an overactive penis in the room trying to make points with me does kind of speed things up. I found a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to wear, but hubby nixed that asking me if I forgot I had to work today.

He handed me a dress that looked like it would fit extremely tight in the bust, but flared out into a full skirt. The pair of panties and a push up bra did come first though. I stared at him trying to use my secret power to melt him right where he stands. It may be a secret power, but very ineffective. He did help me on with the bra, then dragged me to the bathroom.

“You are a bra fitter in an upscale woman’s shop in our little suburb of Washington DC. It is necessary for you to look professional, especially your upper torso. I drop you off at work, then pick you up later this afternoon. Jamie is the shop owner and she will inform you of the proper procedure for fitting a bra on a female. I am sure you will enjoy your work, the real Nadia always had fun at her job.

Now finish dressing we will grab a bite to eat as we head into town. With that I was kissed passionately, now standing there with my mouth partially open and trying to get more air into my lungs. Hubby returned and swatted my butt to get me moving, the size of his smile showing how enjoyable he was finding all of this.

I sat in the car as I was driven to work wondering how I was going to handle fitting bras on females all day. Nadia may not have had trouble but she was equipped differently than I was. I know my real gender did not show, but junior was still there and at times I could feel him trying to expand and exert his presence.

Luckily for me he was secured out of the way, but when he got frisky I did feel very uncomfortable till he decided to cooperate and pretend to be female. It wasn’t pain, but a disturbing feeling down there that seemed to get worse until the situation eventually resolved itself.

After a few occasions of his petulance I noticed a drippage that was oozing out of my vagina. Not something I could do anything about though. I had slipped another pair of panties in my purse, just in case I felt the need to change them due to the leaking. At my new job I wondered how often I would be put to the test, maybe I can close my eyes when helping them find the proper bra for their figure.

At work I was introduced to Jamie, but any details other than I looked like the real Nadia were left undisclosed. Jamie was nice and did show me the proper way to measure and fit a bra by using me as an example. For a male it feels weird for a female to hold your breasts, lifting them and positioning them in the new proper size bra. The fact that I could feel every touch and that my nipples had gotten rock hard made it infinitely more difficult.

Then it came time for me to do it to another customer, I was nervous, almost shaking from my nerves being totally shot. I managed but how it was accomplished no one will ever know, because I don’t remember a thing that I did. By quitting time I was performing my job adequately, although I was at times quite uncomfortable. Having a handful of breast at times for a male is unnerving.

There are quite a few well-endowed females in the D.C. area, most of them apparently customers of Jamie. I have no idea how I made it through the day, closing my eyes just allowed my mind to go over all the images of breasts that had accumulated there.

When my husband picked me up and greeted me with a kiss, I leaned into it. I needed the reassurance that somehow things will be alright. I was happy to see him, someone to take me away from living in this fantasy world of breasts. He gave me quite a smile, just asking if I enjoyed my work today.

I swallowed hard, then let him lead me to the car and eventually home. Not a word spoken, for one thing my mind was still buried in visions of breasts, for another I was dreading the time alone with my husband once we got to our home. I hoped it would not go farther than last night, but was also aware how it could easily escalate.

We stopped and picked up some takeout on the way home saving me from having to prepare a meal for us. Unfamiliar with what was available to use to prepare a meal at the house, probably a wise decision on his part. He did allow me some time for myself as he went to the living room to listen to the evening news after eating. I cleaned the few dishes we used to eat on and straightened the kitchen. Mainly to keep my mind occupied.

I was standing looking out the kitchen window when he walked up behind me. He put his arms around me, whispering in my ear to just relax and enjoy the feelings.

I was held for quite some time in his embrace, now obviously enjoying being held by him. There were nibbles to my neck, the goose pimples threatening to cause an emotional meltdown. I think he sensed that and grabbed my hand leading me off to the bedroom.

He undid the zipper on my dress, as he started the shower for me. I was actually allowed to shower by myself, very thankful for not having to wash his overactive penis again. I found a robe on the back of the bathroom door to put on, and went to search for a nightie.

In my dresser I found a drawer full of them, every single one far from conservative, all sexy and extremely brief. I looked through them all trying to find one that actually covered up some of my female figure.

The one I chose had a full cut panty, but left the breasts almost hanging out of the front of the top. The thought of my husband’s penis made me chose this one, something, at least, to cover my exposed vagina.

As I walked over to the bed my temporary husband had the biggest smile on his face, causing an explosion of red on my face. I was hugged and cuddled very tightly all night, having to plead with him to allow me to use the bathroom during the night. Smiles always greeted me as I returned to bed, and then was quickly engulfed in his embrace once again.

Each day I was getting more comfortable being around him. That fact not necessarily good for me. Day to day nothing much changed until about a week later.

Hubby was delayed in picking me up, some kind of car trouble and I was sitting at a nearby cafe in their outdoor dining area. It was partially secluded and pretty much isolated. Another lady entered the area and approached me. She walked by me, then I felt a cloth being held over my nose. When I woke later I was in a room and bound to a chair with a gag inserted in my mouth.

So much for my training to be observant of my surroundings, now in the hands of my captors and no telling where. I tried to look around at my surroundings, no windows in the room and the door had a no key lock, requiring a code to be entered to unlock it. My arms and legs had multiple heavy duty zipties binding then to the chair and were quite secure.

I couldn’t hear anything, finally figuring out I had ear plugs inserted cutting off any noises from the outside world. I felt so hopeless and vulnerable. Now disguised as a female, I could be subject to all kinds of things a female has to possibly deal with, something really terrifying for a former male. I was never released from my bindings for long, my food being inserted with a syringe through a hole in my gag.

I found out later that I had been fitted with a diaper, so that handled most of my bathroom needs. A young lady, accompanied by two very intimidating males released me from the chair for a few minutes while she changed my diaper, then I was retied again this time minus any clothes that I had on previously. Now naked except for the diaper, not a very comforting position to find myself in.

It had been at least a day or two since my abduction, since I did not have any sense of time passing I was not sure. No clocks in the room and with no windows I could not tell by the light or darkness of day and night. I know my diaper had been changed five times, if that is any indication of the amount of time that had passed.

I was beginning to lose hope I would be rescued, since nothing had changed in the interim. Then that evening I was trussed up to a stand that had been brought into the room. The diaper had been removed leaving me totally naked, my hands tied to the top of the stand and my feet tied to the legs of the stand. That left them about two feet apart, my female sex quite exposed and vulnerable.

The lady returned wearing a mask, as she always does, so she could not be identified carrying several things in her hands. My nipples were played with, making them stand erect and pointy. She attached a clamp to each then tightened them till they were hurting me. I tried to stay silent, but the pain got to me and I screamed.

Next she slid a dildo out of her bag of goodies and pushed it up against my vagina. Rubbing it up and down over my tender lips, almost inserting it then withdrawing. She kept this up for quite a while then pushed hard and the dildo disappeared into my vagina. Unfortunately the dildo was rubbing against my buried penis making me climax right there while tied up.

It took me quite a while to regain some semblance of thought, then looking at the door behind the girl I noticed that I had been filmed being defiled. The girl approached me once again intending to do it again, while I twisted and turned trying to evade her intentions. This time she toyed with me longer, than as she inserted the dildo again she grabbed one of the clamps attached to my nipple and tugged hard.

This time I passed out, the feelings so intense I couldn’t stand it. When I did come to, I was still hanging from the stand, my legs not able to support me any longer. The clamps were still firmly attached to my nipples, the pain now dull but still throbbing.

I hung there for quite some time, now having to pee, since I couldn’t get anybody's attention to let me down. Even for a disguised male it is very embarrassing to not be able to control their bladder. I ended up peeing, the liquid running down my leg to the floor. I shed quite a few tears, all of this just too much for me to deal with.

I thought I heard some noises in the other room, but was not sure. The ear plugs making hearing anything very difficult if not impossible. I tried to call out for help, the wrist restraints were beginning to cut off my circulation in my arms, The partial gag allowed some noises from me but nothing discernible.

About ten minutes later the door opened and my hubby was standing there all smiles. He quickly released me, then carried me out of the house. I was placed in the back of an ambulance as two E.R. personnel checked me out. When the clamps were released from my nipples I took in a huge breath and screamed bloody murder.

The one gal helping me rubbed some cream onto my abused nipples helping the pain subside some. Hubby was standing just outside the back door of the ambulance and tried to enter to save me. Once he saw what had happened he relented but stayed near to the door.

I was pronounced basically healthy a little while later, hubby not wasting any time in removing me from their clutches. Placed in his car I was whisked away. He held my one hand as he drove, squeezing it often to let me know he was there for me. I was awake but so out of it I had no idea where we were going.

As he pulled into our garage I let out another sigh, so glad to be home and maybe done with this ordeal. I was carried into the house and taken right to the bedroom, laid on the bed, then covered with a blanket. He laid next to me, on top of the covers holding me close to him. I drifted off to sleep, now safe and with my love.

I don’t remember anything dream wise, the few times I rolled over and opened my eyes he was there with a smile on his face. I remember thinking that I love him, than reality set in, I am just an impostor, and he is already happily married.

When my eyes next opened, it was daylight, the sun streaming through the window, the warmth of the rays feeling good on my exposed arms and face. I rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty, a pathetic moan escaping my mouth. A minute later he appeared with a tray of breakfast for me, setting it on the bed next to me and hand feeding me. Once I was full he removed the tray and came to sit next to me again.

“We need to talk about some things. Unbeknownst to you the operation was a little more complicated than you knew about.” I started to say something but he shushed me, telling me my time to ask questions will come later.

“Incidentally we got the kidnappers red handed, six of them in the gang, with two of them shot in the gunfight when we raided the house you were being kept in. All of the remaining gang members have been jailed, with no bail allowed.”

“When you were first assigned to the case, I saw you several times in the video of your training. So since I was head of the operation I inserted myself in the operation as your husband. Just something about you made me take notice. We were pretty sure that the kidnappers were not that concerned about Nadia’s husband, since we found no reference or interest in him when we started noticing their interest in Nadia.

I expect they saw a way to assert some control over the President, holding you and threatening you with rape and bodily harm. They did send messages to the President showing you trussed up and being subjected to some unnatural acts. This was right before we planned to raid the house you were being held in.”

“Back to us, I loved holding you or seeing you naked. The time when we showered together was so much fun, your facial expression so comical, especially when you had to wash my penis.”

“When we showed up at the restaurant and you were not there, I was devastated. Luckily you had a tracking chip inserted in you at the salon, so we had a way to locate you. It took us a couple of days to locate you and exactly what house you were being kept in. We watched for a day or two, then made our move. The surveillance showed us they were six members of the gang, five males and one female. I shot two of the gang members, one of them trying to pull a gun on me, the other heading to where you were being kept his gun in his hand. The others surrendered quickly, the other members of the squad removing them from the house quickly.”

“I went to the room you were being held in, once the door was open I took in a deep breath, then cut you down from the stand you were tied to. I was crying as I did so, so concerned for your safety.

I carried you outside, insisting that you be looked at immediately. When the ER tech removed your nipple clamps causing you to scream, I was going to hurt her until I saw what she was doing. Then when she removed the dildo from your vagina I took in a deep breath. Once she was finished with you I quickly removed you, wanting you with me and at home.

Let’s face it I am in love with you not wanting to share you with anyone. I know of your background and I flatly don’t care. I love the you I see in my eyes and the you I can hold tight and cuddle. Keep in mind that as soon as things return to some type of normalcy I will ask you to marry me. I expect a yes in return, then I am planning a quick trip to Vegas to make sure you don’t have a chance to change your mind.”

He pulled me closer, then put his arms around me as he leaned in and gave me a sensuous kiss. I returned the kiss, with us exploring each other’s mouth with our tongues. I laid my head on his shoulder, repeating over and over the word yes.

I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of being held by the one I love, anxious to spend the rest of my life in his loving embrace. Someone I can love and take care of for the rest of my life. The day I was told I had to disguise myself as a female, what a wonderful day, a day to be eternally thankful for.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Nicky, A Bimbo Experience

I was heading to the salon to pick up my sister, her appointments at the salon only scheduled till eight today. She is one of their stylists, working for them for six years now. Her car was acting up again, thus my ferrying her to work and picking her up at closing. When I pulled into the parking lot the place was jammed. I found a spot near the back of the parking lot and made my way into the salon.

Recently the Turnabout Gurl Salon has experienced considerable growth, their basic reason for opening now flourishing once again. Sis had commented about her customers, now over seventy percent of them males. When the salon first opened it was that way, then the females in the area found out what they could accomplish and became the majority of their customers.

Now the balance seems to have shifted back to the male customer. Word of mouth had spread from the previous male customers, now more males wanting to experience the salon. The salons popularity causing them to add additions to the salon twice since they opened.

With the parking lot this full, they apparently have a lot of walk-ins, hence my need to go in and wait while Donna finishes her customers. I enjoy watching the goings on in the salon, trying to discern the male customers from the female ones.

It was over an hour later when she had finished her last customer, a female I presume who looked quite over done. Her makeup was bold, heavy and quite noticeable. Her hair was also over the top, feminine but exaggerated to the max. Then we have her clothes, just short of slutty, form fitting and leaving a lot of skin exposed.

I watched the customer look at her image in the mirror after sis finished, pleased at the reflected image apparently. The services were performed well, just over done. I shook my head at her image, definitely not anything that could be considered mainstream.

After sis joined me I asked her about her last customer. She chuckled, then said she had been getting quite a few like her recently. Her and one other stylist seemed to be sought out by this particular group of customers, the word of mouth spreading quickly.

She doesn’t mind doing their hair, nails and makeup. They usually tip well and are a hoot to listen to, their high pitched voices and their valley girl accents make them appear rather simple, in other words they act like a bimbo. If they are called that they swell up in pride, a status symbol for them.

Sis asked me if I was aware that her last customer was male underneath all of the makeup, clothes and hair? I shook my head in disbelief, wondering why a male wanted to look like a bimbo or street walker, my take on how they looked.

We walked out to my car and headed home. We shared a house, well more likely considered a small cottage, with lots of amenities. It was on the edge of town, not near any shopping or entertainment. No public transportation so it was hard to keep rented. For us it was perfect, close enough to the salon for sis and easily accessible to major highways.

I was still in school, one more semester till I could get my bachelors degree. The university was more than a few miles away, but easily reached with the roads available in a reasonable time.

The ride home was in silence, sis usually tired after being on her feet for eight to ten hours. I parked next to the cottage and we entered our abode. I headed to the kitchen, having already prepared our dinner. All I had to do was warm the food in the oven for a few minutes and serve.

Sis had changed her clothes, now wearing a pair of jeans and a loose top. I preferred her uniform that she wore at work, a young male’s fantasy come true. I got a hug, sis really appreciating the effort I make for her. She was hungry, so there was very little conversation tonight. She did ask about my classes as I cleaned up, and put the left over food in the refrigerator.

I mentioned about one of the professors being sick, now in the hospital. The class had been suspended till he could return. Now there was talk about him not returning, the class being canceled, no credit given. They had tried to get a replacement but no one with enough qualifications was found to take his place. It would mean that I could not graduate this semester, since I would still be three credit hours short for my degree. Then to have to take one class next semester such a waste of time and resources.

With Donna yawning I turned out the lights and we headed to our bedroom. We slept in the master bedroom, two twin beds one on either side of the room. She finished in the bathroom first, by the time I was through she was sound asleep. I kissed her cheek, just something we did to each other every chance we got, then crawled into my own bed.

The kiss was usually accompanied with a hug, but Donna was already making noises. I can’t call them snoring but they do sound like that. When I accuse her of snoring she denies it, with a vengeance, accusing me of making it up.

The next morning she was up before me, fixed breakfast and had the coffee pot going full blast. She pounced on my bed to wake me. Grabbing my covers and dragging them off. I got the hint, did my bathroom things and headed to the kitchen. I was served some food, then a huge cup of coffee. I disposed of both, then she wanted to know if I had anything planned for today.

I shook my head no, the one class that got canceled my only class for the day. She wanted me to come into the salon with her, She had some gaps in her appointments, with me there she can play with my hair, maybe even give me a makeover. I headed to the bedroom, shaking my head and yelling never.

Well like most females what I had in mind and what I ended up doing are two different worlds. She ended up dressing me, although I had told her just to take my car since I would not need it today. Nope not what she had in mind.

So a half hour later I was dragged into the salon and taken to one of the treatment rooms. Her first appointment was already here so she kissed me and pushed me down in a chair. Giggling she told me to stay, then rubbing the top of my head telling me that I was a good pussy. As you can tell she is a cat lover, several of the local felines making our cottage their home. After a taste of what we offered the next time they came they brought their suitcases and moved in.

In and out all day as she worked on me in between her appointments. I got my hair washed and conditioned, the split ends removed and then set in curlers. She had started the curlers when I was dozing off, by the time I became aware of what she was doing she had just about finished getting them all in. I sighed but did not say anything. I did give her a dirty look, but of course like a typical female it was totally ignored.

Later in the day I got some makeup applied, my ears pierced again and my eyebrows arched significantly. The mirrors in the room were on the other side of the room so being lazy I never ventured over to look at my new image. It was approaching quitting time as she removed my curlers. She was humming as she styled my hair, using way too much hairspray to preserve the look.

Apparently satisfied with her work she refreshed my lipstick then helped me to stand up. She removed my shirt, dropped my pants to the floor and then yanked my shorts down to my ankles. I should have stopped her at this point, but it all seemed so surreal. I was handed a pair of panties which I promptly pulled up, not wanting to stay naked any longer than necessary no matter what I was given to wear.

The way too short dress that she had in her hands was next, I tried to escape, looking for my male clothes that she had just removed. Somehow they mysteriously vanished, every where I looked not a sign of them to be seen. I tried to keep the dress from being put on my body, but my hands ended up being in the wrong place to prevent that. With the dress on sis dragged me to a mirror, the image in the mirror an exact duplicate of the bimbo look that she was doing for a lot of her customers.

I was about to start crying, tears already leaking from the corners of my eyes. She pulled me closer and hugged me tightly, kissing my ear and eyes to get me to stop with the tears. I ended up giggling, as her actions seemed to always cheer me up. Besides the damage had already been done, a return to my former look not in the immediate future.

She turned me back to the mirror, making me look at my image more closely. For some reason I reverted to a higher voice, slurring my words and returning her kisses with a vengeance. Now we were both giggling as she dragged me from the salon.

At the door of the salon I hesitated, the dress I was wearing not covering much. Definitely not something I had worn before out in public. Too late, now almost to my car my head swiveling to see if I was being stared at. I was getting plenty of looks but no outright stares or gawking. Sis drove us home, I am sure I was in no shape to operate any machinery much less to remember how to get home in the first place. The heels she had me wear also not conducive to driving a car, much less to walking. I was almost to the car before I managed a walk and not teeter along.

I was pushed into the kitchen and told to warm the leftovers from last night. She did watch for a few minutes to see that I actually found the leftovers, what there was of them, and got them to the microwave. She then trotted off to our bedroom, appearing several minutes later with a huge smile on her face. I did eat a few bites, but was still more concerned with my new radical image. I could see my reflection in some of the kitchen appliances, my eyes focusing on those images.

It was after we had consumed the leftovers that I managed to ask her why the outlandish bimbo look. She just smiled, a devilish grin spreading across her face. “My little sister needs to experience more of what is happening all around her, time spent as a bimbo will broaden her outlook on life.

When we talked earlier about my customer your face showed disapproval of their look and behavior. Now you can live the life for awhile, maybe opening your eyes and mind to something new and different.”

Besides I used some semi-permanent makeup on your face and a liquid permanent on your hair, the look you now possess will be with you for several weeks. I started to complain about what she had done, but before my mouth engaged I realized what she has already done will not be easy to reverse.

I don’t think school will be any problem, the looks of fellow students covering most any lifestyle or look, but to show up looking like a bimbo might take more nerve that I can summon up.

Now if I can somehow get my mind to accept my radical new look. That thought was being processed as I was staring it my image in the mirror once again. A big sigh escaped my face, easier said than done.

I did make my way to our bedroom discovering what sis was smiling about when she returned from changing her clothes. All my masculine clothes were now missing, hopefully just for awhile. Knowing sis I feared they were gone for good, typical of her thought processes once she gets a crazy idea in her head. I found a nightie laying on my bed, so out of the dress, once I figured how to get out of it, and slipped the satin nightie on, Of course, a fresh pair of panties accompanied the nightie and I laid down on my bed, a restful sleep like presence slowly taking over.

The next morning nothing had changed, sis waking me up and making me get ready to take her to work. My only activity for the day was late afternoon, a club meeting that I had participated in since coming to the university. So I had most of the day to do something. With my new look, I wondered just what that might be.

On the drive to the salon sis informed me that I needed more work, my bimbo look just not good enough for everyday life. My mouth opened to protest that statement, but no words escaped since I was wearing leggings and a short dress like top that barely covered my panties. A low pair of heels adorned my feet making driving the car occupy my undivided attention.

Again dragged into the salon and deposited in a room by myself, I was given a magazine to read, naturally one geared for the female. I was later caught by sis reading an article on how to snare a man, and keep him satisfied.

Of course, my face turned instant red, every ounce of blood making its way to my upper body, leaving me dizzy and somewhat woozy. Sis assured me once the time came she would help me find a suitable male partner, but wanted assurances of being included in the marriage ceremony. I sure hope that will never happen, especially the part of finding a suitable male.

On today’s agenda was a set of extensions for my fingernails, of course, painted a rich burgundy color. I quickly found out that the longer nails greatly inhibited me in doing almost anything with my hands. They seemed to go with the bimbo look, their length almost an inch past the end of my fingers.

I received a set of breast forms, glued to my chest with their longest lasting adhesive. Now my time as a bimbo trainee would last a minimum of four months before the adhesive could be removed. A fact that sis took great pleasure in informing me of, after the fact though.

She sprayed my throat several times each time my voice became higher, almost a squeaky feminine tone to it. Sis loved my new voice, while I now had serious doubts whether I could handle living in this new persona.

She decided my lashes were not adequate, so individual lashes were added to my eyelids, making my lashes so feminine. I avoided looking in any mirror, knowing I would be shocked at my new appearance.

A change of wardrobe, was necessary for my afternoon club meeting, starting with a bra for my new breast forms. I was given a different dress to wear, while longer than the one this morning, the bodice giving everybody more to look at with regards to my boobs.

I tried to protest, but sis did not want to hear any of it. I was hustled out of the salon, then driven to the college for my club meeting. I was informed she would come and pick me up after she finished at the salon.

When I asked what I was to do while waiting for her, she told me to see if I could snare a member of the male sex, maybe even getting some kisses, better yet a free meal. She did remind me that since I did not have the appropriate equipment down below yet I should limit my actions to kissing, maybe a blow job if I really liked him.

I stood there mouth open, as she drove off, her last words shaking me up considerably. The thought still in my mind, not wanting to leave. I finally made my way to the meeting, although I noticed some lusty stares from several members of the male gender. My time in the meeting was really wasted, sis’s words still occupying any brain functions. I doubted I could tell you anything that had been discussed in the meeting.

Once the club meeting was over I made my escape, several males following me until I entered the ladies restroom. I did everything I could think of trying to kill some time, finally leaving the safe confines of the restroom. To my surprise there were still several males waiting for me, the cutest of them approaching me wanting to start a conversation.

He asked a stupid question about the meeting, anything to get me to talk to him. I was reminded of all the stupid pick-up lines I had used in the past this one not much better than some of the ones I had used in the past. I smiled and told him I had to go, my ride will be here soon.

I made it as far as the library, a couple of buildings from where my meeting was, but alas still no sis. I went in and found a table to sit at, one that only had one unoccupied chair so my male suitors had to sit elsewhere. I opened a book that I had grabbed trying to look busy, but instead was staring off into the distance. When I did look at the book closely, it was a book on what to do on a date, written by a female that looked somewhat like a bimbo. That is where sis found me, looking over my shoulder seeing what I was reading.

“Come along Nicky, time to get you home.”

“Well did you learn anything, you sure looked interested in what you were reading? You know I was standing behind you for ten minutes, you never looked up, so engrossed in learning what to do on a date. I will have to find someone for you, with your new look I am sure you will be quite popular.”

I turned instant red, caught red handed so to speak. I didn’t say anything for fear that I will only make things worse.

Luckily she let the conversation drop, grabbing my hand and leading me to the car. I kind of relaxed some, I really did not want to discuss my feelings or looks, either subject foreign and potentially embarrassing.

At home I went to my bedroom planing to change clothes and end this charade. I opened the closet door then remembered that all of my male clothes were gone. I ran to my dresser hoping she had forgot to remove my underwear. I pulled out each drawer, looking for anything that might resemble a piece of male clothing. Absolutely nothing. I slumped to the floor, the tears starting to slide down my face again.

I know this was supposed to be a learning experience for me, but to be totally immersed in this with no other choice in the role had me frantic. The tears eventually dried up, not enough water to fuel the tear production any longer.

So the Bimbo role continued, sis making me practice talking in a valley girl voice and only about my looks and what I was wearing. I eventually gave up, giving in the simple way to be able to move on to something else. I was still corrected when I lapsed back to my previous ways, but after awhile I found myself unconsciously talking like a bimbo. My new higher voice along with the change in subject matter only reinforced my bimbo image.

Several more trips to the salon in the following days, each time my bimbo looks refreshed and added to. The most notable was a false vagina glued over my groin, sis so proud that I could now have sex with a male. I no longer had to give blowjobs to keep them interested in me.

I never did anything with a male, not wanting anything to do with them. Since my looks were designed to attract the male, I was constantly trying to avoid them. No matter where I was at, I had a crowd, wanting to talk to me or interact with me in other ways. The number of times I was touched on my body was ridiculous, sometimes on the leg, or an arm or worse yet on my waist or hips. Luckily not on the breasts, that would have sent me into panic mode right away.

Oh the desire to be touched there was present, maybe desire was not explicit enough. To yearn to have my nipples squeezed, flesh kneaded, to have my breasts held in someones hand, a wish that would be unobtainable I fear.

High heels became a staple, five and six inches tall with a narrow stiletto heel. Straps that fastened around the ankle to hold then on my feet. Decorated with bows and other feminine objects, making them stand out from a normal high heel. It took me a little while to be able to walk comfortably in them, but soon after I learned to maneuver in them it is the only shoe I chose to wear.

Makeup was redone, after my face was cleansed and treated with numerous creams and lotions. She applied it carefully, making sure to not get it anywhere it was not supposed to be. I had watched as she applied the makeup right away figuring out that what she was doing was for the long term. Another nail in my coffin, the bimbo lifestyle now my only future.

A few weeks passed, sis insisting that I go with her to the salon when she had to work. I guess to make sure I interacted with others. I did talk with others, sometimes my voice is super excited, what we were talking about subjects that I lived every moment for.

Fast forward a couple of months, the bimbo lifestyle still with me. Twice weekly appointments at the salon to keep my bimbo looks fresh and sexy. To keep busy at other times of the week I found a job at a ladies boutique, selling clothes for the bimbo wannabes. So I was always on display, wearing some of the dresses we sold. You can never have enough clothes or shoes, my wages at the boutique usually spent on more heels to match my new outfits.

Sis works on me when I show up for my appointment, making sure that my hair and makeup are perfect. Since she often goes over my semi-permanent makeup with a fresh coat of color, I doubt it is ever coming off, even if I wanted it removed. Hair now perpetually curly, repeated use of their setting lotion making sure of it. She has added fancy barrettes to my hairstyle, woven into my hair to guarantee they stay put. Definitely a high maintenance look.

Nicky is going to be around for quite awhile, a fact that I am quite happy about. Back when I first encountered one, when sis worked on her at the salon, I couldn’t fathom why they wanted to look that way. Now any mention of me reverting back to my male persona is ignored immediately. My bimbo experience was so fulfilling, not realizing how much it means to me.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Olivia, My Sister’s Agenda

I was back home for the first time in two years, excluding some brief visits several times a year. This time I was here to stay, my schooling concluded. The last two years of college consuming that time, with my degree in business economics finally obtained. I finished junior college in my home town, but wanted my degree to have a little more clout than just a state university.

Beckham School of Economics had that clout that I desired, although they were not local, they were just far enough away to keep from commuting. I found these last two years at Beckham to be quite a challenge, the courses they offered were very challenging, covering every nuance of the economic spectrum.

I graduated fifth in my class of twelve hundred, bringing with me a list of prospective employers that would like to meet me in the area. This was an integral part of the Beckham experience.

My sister was waiting for my plane when it touched down at Sky Harbor International Airport. As I entered the terminal I was hugged tenderly, actually it felt more like I was being squeezed to death. She held the hug forever, so glad to have me back with her. It had been a lonely two years, seeing each other only on holidays or semester breaks. That was no more than four times a year, each visit lasting only for a few days.

The two of us the only remaining part of our family. We were close, maybe a little too close for a brother and sister. Our parents had died when their plane crashed while on a second honeymoon. I still took the plane when I had to, but was always very uneasy doing so. Still way too scary, even now, several years after the crash.

We picked up my luggage and made our way to her car. She drove us to the home we had been raised in, as it came into view I hoped this time it was for good. It was located to the south of Phoenix, just around the corner from South Mountain Park, near the town of Guadalupe.

Enough out of town to be out of the hustle and bustle of the city. The house is located on ten acres, so there is some privacy from neighbors. The acreage never developed before my parents built their house here, still spotted with some cactus and native mesquite trees. It was slightly rolling land, as was all the land around South Mountain Park. The house perched on top of one of the rolling hills.

I carried my things in the house, and up to my bedroom. It was so good to be home again. Hung up my clean clothes with my sister’s help, sorting the ones out that needing washing. Sis has always been involved in my choice of clothes and anything to do with my appearance.

After I started a load of laundry we adjourned to the enclosed patio to drink some iced green tea and catch up on each other’s lives since my last visit. Since it was still early April the weather was warm but not obtrusive in the valley. The sky was clear as far as you could see, the smog from the adjoining city not evident today.

We eventually got around to my list of prospective employers, Jean, my sister, circling several that I should interview with first. Since she had helped me with hanging my clothes, it was suggested that I might want to buy a few new threads, a good impression very important with a prospective employer. I agreed, but didn’t say anything more on that subject.

Ever since we were children, she has taken an inordinate interest in how I dressed. She always has been meticulously dressed, never anything out of place. Her hair styled to perfection, her makeup always perfect. I guess it has served her well, five promotions in the last three years, and now head of a division of her company responsible for over five hundred employees. I knew that her work ethic was responsible for her advancement, but according to her it was how she dressed that made the biggest difference.

Where we differed the most was her opinion of how I should dress. I am small for a male standing five foot three inches tall. I have a reasonable build, with narrow shoulders, definitely ones that would usually be found on most any female. I tip the scales at one hundred thirty-three pounds on a good day, less than that most any other time. Let’s face it I am skinny as a rail, and resemble a female more than a male.

Sis favors the androgynous look, a pant suit with blouse underneath in a gray or tan color. You did notice I said blouse and not shirt. As far as sis is concerned there is not a male shirt that is right for me, according to her the male shirt just does not look right on my body.

As far as male suits go, most look huge on me, the shoulders so wide it seems to swallow me inside of it, so she has always insisted on a female pantsuit for me. The ones that sis picks out for me, the cut is usually not very feminine. With her choice of colors it could loosely pass as an item of male apparel. I did stress loosely, a female would notice a difference right away, most males probably missing the obvious difference.

I had already conceded to her wish for longer hair on me, most of the time at college it is worn in a low ponytail tucked into my shirt. This has always been one of her first requirements of me, short hair and me, she says, looks absolutely horrible.

I tend to agree, the few times I have had short hair it did nothing for my looks. With short hair my refection in a mirror showed an image I had no idea who it belonged to. If a guess had to be made most would figure I was still in high school and most likely a nerd of the highest order.

When I started yawning she dragged me off to bed, kissed me and told me to get a good night’s sleep and she will help me get ready for the interviews in the morning. Again an appropriate place for a comment from me, but instead I kept quiet and laid back in bed.
It seemed not even a minute before I was asleep, hoping for better things in my future.

By the time I managed to withdraw myself from the bed the next morning, she had already lined up three interviews for later in the day.

My clothes for the day were laid on a chair in my bedroom, I sighed when I saw them, but maybe I could somehow stand the embarrassment today. Every piece no doubt from her side of the closet. There would be additional opportunity tomorrow or the day after for other interviews dressed in my choice of clothing.

She brushed my hair for me, something I had missed while away at college. There is nothing more relaxing then somebody running a brush through your hair. Although when the brush hit a tangled mat, it was far from relaxing. Before college it was a frequent treat for me, she loved to do it, a way that a sister could show her love for a sibling. You noticed I said sibling, I really doubt she ever saw me as a brother, most likely a younger sister.

Next a pair of sweats, some sneakers and I am dragged out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the garage. The color of the sweats an indication of what she has in mind for me. Bright pink, with girl power emblazoned on the chest. I shrugged my shoulders, she is in one of her moods, so all else is irrelevant until she gets her way. She often refers to it as her agenda.

I am driven to a salon on the edge of Phoenix, very near to Arizona State University. As she pulls up to the salon I grab the car door handle, holding on tight shaking my head no before she can say anything. She turns me toward her until I have to look at her face.

“If you remember I helped pay your expenses for your schooling. Today is some of my payback for that feat. I have taken time off from work to help in your presentation so you will embrace this totally, do what they tell you to do, then attend the interviews this afternoon I have arranged. Do your best to sway them into hiring you this way. If this fails I will leave you alone for a couple of weeks so you can try your way. After that we will stop and talk about what comes next.”

“You need to enter the salon, ask for Stacey and do as she says. This can be accomplished with your cooperation or I can handle it other ways, but you will end up doing as I wish today. Now are you going to cooperate, or do I need in employ other methods?”

I swallowed hard, opened the car door and got out, I watched as she drove off, leaving me in the hands of Stacey. I had a pretty good idea of what Sis wanted for me, I was not particularly happy about it, but she did pay a lot of my expenses at school, to insure that I got the education I wanted. With a huge sigh I walked through the door and asked for Stacey.

As she approached from the back I got my first look at the sign on the back wall of the salon. Turnabout Gurl Salon in bright pink letters almost three foot high. Another sigh, I am now sure of my earlier thought, it will be a very difficult day for me.

I was led back to a separate room and seated in a stylist chair. The chair is leaned back and my hair is washed and conditioned. A towel is wrapped around the wet hair and the chair is set back upright.

Not much conversation from Stacey, she seems really focused on what she is doing to me. I asked a couple of general questions of her, she smiles and responds then surprises me with her next statement. “Jean said you would try and engage me in conversation so that some of what is planned could not be finished in time. I will gladly talk to you, but you will be done in time for your appointments, that I can guarantee.”

I sighed, Sis knows me well, and is apparently quite determined to get her agenda completed today at all costs.

Stacey separates the hair into sections pinning the sections to my head. Then she works through each section combing it then cutting it to the proper length for the style. She does engage me in conversation from time to time, but is determined to finish her tasks.

She did ask what college I went to and what I studied. After making it through all the sections she wets the hair with a spray bottle and then starts winding the sections into curlers.

Yep, what I feared most is happening. I asked nicely what style she has been requested to give me. She giggles, I see your sister, Jean, has not told you anything, so why don’t you just wait and be surprised. I am sure you will look fantastic, much better than when you entered the salon.

With a head full of curlers I was expecting the hair dryer, but I was led to another room and laid on a table. I was furnished a small pillow, keeping the hard curlers from pressing against the table making it more comfortable to lay there. My sweats were removed, then my shorts, now naked and feeling very vulnerable on the table.

A cream was rubbed all over my front, including junior, then thirty minutes later wiped off. With it what little hair I had been able to grow on my body came with it. Now with my front as smooth as a baby, I was turned over and my back side handled in the same manner. That apparently included my rosebud, a very humiliating experience indeed. Luckily, I was facing down, the red on my cheeks shared only with the table.

Next was my eyebrows, this time hot wax was used, most of my eyebrow coming out with the first pull of the cloth strip. Looking in the mirror at the end of the room, that side of my face is definitely feminine. Once the other side is handled there was no doubt that Oliver had gone missing, maybe for quite some time.

The name Oliver was a moniker that I truly despised. I did everything I could to get people to use anything else instead as I grew up. Oli, O.J. and several others got limited use, my sister Jean had always used Olivia, knowing that I hated that too. So I pretty much went through life answering to anything except Oliver and I do mean anything. I even acknowledged sis’s use of Olivia on occasion.

Back on subject, now that I was hairless, with a feminine face, the feminine hairdo that I figured was coming would fit right in the scheme of things. The hair dryer was next, forty minutes of warm air blowing over me left me drowsy and not with the program. Stacy removed the curlers, the large curls falling out all around my face. I knew at that point it would be worse than anything I had envisioned.

The fact that I was setting in her stylist’s chair naked as the day I was born with just a cape around my shoulders left me bewildered and confused. The curls were manipulated into an ultra-feminine hairdo, with curly tendrils at the back of my head and over my ears. There was no male image in the mirror anymore, nothing but gorgeous female to be seen. Several diamond encrusted barrettes were added to the sides of my hairdo, keeping the hair on the side of my head tight and smooth.

As I looked into the mirror again, my sister Jean appeared with a garment bag over her shoulder. I looked for the clothes I had worn to the salon, but they were suspiciously missing. Another sigh, what she has for me in the bag is my only choice apparently.

Then I thought back to when we left the house, my wallet, keys and credit cards and ID all left at home. Another big sigh, I guess it will be her way today, all other choices now seemingly unavailable.

Her choice of clothes was worse than I expected, what she had laid out on the bed this morning not what she brought to the salon. Her choice for me today was an Ivory ladies suit with a pencil skirt. I gave Jean such a look, but she was holding all the cards. My cape was yanked off, and a pair of panties was handed me. I thought about it for a minute, then when she held up the thong panty as an alternative, I slipped the ones I was handed first on quickly. A bra was next, thankfully not sexy, although it was an underwire.

After she helped fasten the clasp behind my back she came around front and reached into the cup and grabbed some flesh and pulled sharply up. A lot of the flesh stayed in the cup leaving me with a noticeable bust. A slip came next then the skirt. A lacy blouse was added, then she showed me how to slip the blouse under the waistband of the skirt. The jacket next, then the cape again as Stacy added some mascara then some blush to my cheeks followed by several coats of lipstick.

The cape removed, then I was hustled out to her car. As I sat in the passenger seat I was handed a purse, looking inside I found everything I might need, the list of interviews and several copies of my resume and college transcripts. I did notice that my wallet was devoid of cash and credit cards, although I did have my ID. No keys to anything, apparently a car and the house were off limits until I had attended the interviews.

I gave up, might as well do as she wants, any other options or choices seemingly denied me. Twenty minutes later I was dropped off at the first place on the list, I was to see a Ms. Townsend, take a test or two, then have the interview. I found her office, her secretary handing me the test and showing me to an unused desk.

It only took me a half hour to complete the test, the secretary graded it and then took it to her boss. A few minutes later I was called back and spent the next hour being interviewed. None of the questions were difficult, I was expecting most of them, so I gave quick concise answers. I think I did well, Ms. Townsend said she would call me later today after she had reviewed the test and interview questions.

That sounded familiar since we were taught that approach in school, a way to evade telling the applicant that they cannot use them. Jean was waiting for me when I exited the building, and promptly drove me to the next interview. I was again dropped off in front of their offices, looking at my list I was to see a Mr. Johnson at two o’clock. I was a few minutes early so I waited in his outer office.

No test this time, just him going over my resume, my classes and the recommendations of some of my professors. I doubt he was interested in me other than my apparent gender. Several times his eyes was on my chest and not on me the person. Even though I had little up top, it was apparently enough to occupy his interest. After the interview was over, Jean was waiting again, this time a longer trip to Scottsdale and my last appointment. This time another female, a Ms. Waller was the one to see.

I was surprised she didn’t even look at my resume, my letters of recommendation, or the classes I took in school. Instead we walked through her company offices talking to employees and what projects they were working on. Several times I was inserted in the conversation, asking an opinion or how I would tackle the problem. We ended up in their accounting department, where she introduced me to Julie the head of the department.

Several examples of their accounting were shown to me, I looked them over then made a suggestion to them. I figured that was why I was in the department in the first place, they were wanting to know if my knowledge was all from a book, or based on real life circumstances.

All during the conversations I had the funny feeling that Sis was in on this, the way the interview was handled, and that none of my pertinent details had been looked at. I imagined she had approached this lady, laid everything out and waited to see if I would be chosen. Maybe the lady owed Sis something, a favor that she was calling in. Not the first time something like that has happened, with Sis involved.

Back to her office, I was shown to a seat in front of her desk. I sat properly as befits a female in a skirt and decided I needed to confront her and find out how much Sis had to do with this.

“Ms. Waller, just exactly what has Jean and you discussed. I am not that mentally challenged that I can’t figure out she had quite a lot of input in this before I arrived for the interview. I want the job, but based on my merits and not on what Jean has told you. If that can be accomplished I will be glad to work for you.” I received a huge smile from her.

“Okay, let’s lay all the cards on the table. Yes, Jean has talked to me about you. What she has clearly stated is what I have seen in person today. I know of your true gender, how you are dressed today is actually a request of mine. For the position I have in mind for you, it is essential that you present gender female. I wanted to see if your presentation as a female is adequate for the position. If I were to offer you the position with those requirements would you be interested?”

“I might be interested, depending on the reason that I need to present gender female. Heaven knows I have had enough practice due to Sis’s involvement in my life and I am sure it would tick several boxes for my sister if I did take the position as described.”

“Now for the reason that I would need to portray a female at work. Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Several years ago this company was a family owned and operated business. The grandfather was the CEO and served as such until he was in his early nineties. There were members of the family that he did not want in any supervisory positions. These were mostly males, including his second son. At one of the board meetings he amended the rules regarding progression in the company. Any employees in a supervisory position must portray the female gender 24/7 or be excluded from any and all dividends or stocks, no exceptions. No stocks would leave the employee without any clout or way to further themselves in the company.

His one daughter was who he wanted to follow him as CEO, so he figured that would ensure his wish. Of course, the son tried to legally fight it, he thought the position was and should be his. The attorneys for the company won out, and he moved away in disgust a few years later after spending most of his limited inheritance fighting the change in the company bylaws.”

“It has worked well for the company, a lot of infighting and jockeying for top of the heap never materialized. When the daughter retired she made sure that the owners of the company stock were all like minded, and even though we have had several challenges in court by others the rule has persisted.

Incidentally the entire stock of the company is owned by females, most of them daughters and granddaughters of the two CEO’s. That CEO position is currently filled by an outsider, a quite capable and smart young woman hand-picked by the daughter.”

“In simple terms if you want the job, you are going to be living and working as a female for the duration. My opinion I think you will do quite nicely, your actions and ideas today proving my theory. I see before me another young woman, intelligent and gifted wanting to make a success out of her career choice, I think here will be an excellent place to start. No telling where this may take you.”

I asked her if I could think about it overnight, then get back with her. She smiled, apparently the exact response she was expecting from me. We shook hands, then she invited me to return tomorrow at nine A.M. tell her of my decision and maybe work a day to see if what she has in mind for me is something I can live with.

I was handed a stack of forms to be filled out, and told to just fill them out and return them to her in the morning. I guess everyone expects me to take the job with the required dressing as a female requirement. We shook hands and she welcomed me to the company as she held my hand and squeezed it, her huge smile conveying the fact that she knew I would eventually accept.

Back out front as Jean was waiting for me, that same smile on her face as on Ms. Waller’s face when I left her in her office. I had kept the forms I needed to fill out in my purse, not wanting Jean to see them . I was quizzed immediately if I got the job, I sighed and told Jean I had to continue the interview in the morning, then I will be told of her decision. It was already quitting time so I doubted Jean could call Ms. Waller to confirm my story.

On the way home I was asked lots of questions, Jean trying to find out how I had screwed up the interview. I imagined once home the interrogation would continue, Jean obviously miffed at things not working out as she had intended. I had a hard time controlling a smile and giggle that was just below the surface just waiting to bust out.

I did get questioned for most of the evening, I could tell Sis was frustrated, my answers not adding anything to the equation. I contemplated trying to keep her from finding out that I was offered the job for a longer period of time, since this banter back and forth was fun. I did fill out the forms in my bedroom that night, deciding that the job offered was better than anything I might be offered to my male persona.

I thought often about the requirement to dress as a female, then looked down at my body, suddenly realizing that I had stayed dressed as a proper woman in business attire all day and had managed to live though it, truth be known I actually enjoyed the time dressed, even straightening my hair do and applying another coat of lipstick during the interview and after dinner.

I knew I had a sharp learning curve to accomplish in the next few days, I though I could handle the clothes alright, but doing my makeup and hair everyday might be a bit more than I could master in the ensuing days. I definitely wanted to work a day or two at my new job, making sure it was as described and that I could handle it easily. I think my main concern was if I could handle the female portrayal, not if I could perform the actual work.

The next morning I got dressed earlier than I had told Sis my interview was for, slipping out of the house as she was just getting up. I had found a tan suit to wear today, the skirt a pencil skirt and fairly short. Of course, the underwear and stockings necessary to present a proper female image were donned. The only heels that matched color wise were five inches tall. They were in my size, and so sexy, a coincidence no doubt. It took me several trips around my bedroom before I felt confident enough to wear them out.

I had arranged to borrow her car, since I knew where I was headed and had nothing else on the agenda for today. I had just arrived when Ms. Waller came into the office, I got a huge smile, as she apparently liked employees being prompt. I apologized for my looks, telling her that I needed to learn some more about makeup and hair styles, something I intend to do in the next few days. I was told that my appearance was satisfactory, no worse than a female having a bad hair day.

I handed her the completed forms asking her if I could work a day or two to see if it is something I would like while hopefully able to contribute to the company some. She processed my forms, filled out my social security forms and had me sign them, then led me to where I will work today.

For the first day I was placed in my own office, given two very sizable stacks of data and shown how they needed to be added to the accounts data base. Although it was such an easy task, it allowed me to see some of the economic aspects of their company and not be overly stressed out at what I was doing. I did find several mistakes, gathering that information up to give to Ms. Waller later. The morning flew by, doing something seeming to occupy my mind, allowing me to forget that I was totally dressed as a female.

I took my lunch at the appropriate time, using a fast food place a few blocks from work. I ate in their dining room, then fixed my lipstick as if I had been doing this my whole life. I did place a couple of curls back in their proper place also. When I got back Ms. Waller was waiting for me, wanting to know how I was progressing. I showed her the mistakes and then the corrected data. As she left to go back to her office she had such a smirk on her face.

I finished the data entry by three, and went to find out what next. She handed me a disc with all of the companies information on it, asking me to give it a scan so I could see what was involved in their operation. It had their current relationship with several customers on it, along with info on most of their other customers. I spent until six that day looking it all over, making several notations where I thought some changes might improve their profitably and noting one glaring mistake that needed to be corrected.

As I was straightening the desk I used and gathering my purse Ms. Waller came in and set in the chair in front of the desk I had used. I showed her my recommendations, then the mistake and noted that I had corrected it, the new figures printed out on a sheet for her to see. She looked it over, then suggested I head home, she wanted me back tomorrow at eight A.M. where she will show me to my office and introduce me to my staff.

I was hugged as we left the office, her telling me that she would not take any excuses from me. I will be into work tomorrow and that is final. She gave me a hug and went back to her office, while I headed to the parking lot and my car. I made the wild assumption that I had been hired, a smile coming to my face. The drive back to our home not taking near as long as the trip into work this morning.

When I entered the house Sis was right there wanting to know how things worked out today. I tried to play it down, telling her I needed to make a few more copies of my resume, and ditch the female attire, getting with the list of employers the school had given me. I thanked her for her help, but no one was interested in me as a female and working for them.

Well that approach lasted for a whole five minutes as she stared at me, then when a smile started appearing on my face, she hauled off and hit me hard. I was rubbing my arm as she dragged me to the couch by my ear. Pushed me down on the couch and parked her tush right next to me. Her look of frustration quickly had me divulging all before she decided I needed another remainder of her strength. Once all was told, she grabbed my hand and we were off. Out the door, in her car and at the mall before you could count to a hundred.

Up and down the mall, as she expanded my wardrobe to the nth degree. I had to make several trips back to her car laden down with bags, shaking my head as I did so. I will have to work a year to just break even. It wasn’t just taking my new things to the car that afternoon, I had to try each piece on in the store, making sure they fit properly and looked good on me. By the time she decided I had enough for the first week I was pooped.

Fifteen business suits plus skirts and blouses for after work. I would have to change suits twice a day to be able to wear them all during my first week at work. I did mention that thought, but Sis did as she always did and totally ignored my mutterings.

Up early the next morning, getting my bath and making sure I was presentable. Selected my underwear and put it on, having to take in a large breath to keep from making a mess in the panties. I got the suit on over an ivory blouse that allowed my bra to show through.

When I tried this suit on at the store I don’t remember it being this short, I presume it shrunk as it hung in my closet overnight. It was in a pale peach color, with the jacket only having a single button closing. That allowed the blouse to be seen and the bra underneath it.

I thought Sis might have gotten up to send me off, but she had other ideas. Since I was hired as a female her agenda had been satisfactorily completed, so an extra forty winks was called for on her part.

At work I was shown to my office, introduced to my staff, then she went over some things she wanted accomplished from my group. Nothing was complicated, I assigned the work based on the short history they had supplied when introduced to me. They seemed to be a good group of employees, all of them pitching in to get the job done.

I checked on them often, pointing out a few things I preferred in what they were doing. I got looks of awe, apparently none of their previous bosses looked over their work, or made suggestions on how it was presented. That was probably why there was mistakes present in some of the previous work I had reviewed.

Since they had done real well this morning I offered to take them to lunch, my treat. I had seven females with mouths open, staring at me. I had to make the offer twice before it made it through their shocked minds. I tried to convey to them that we are a group, not single employees out to climb to the top, no matter how many people we had to climb over to get there.

After lunch I noticed a difference as they started working with each other and asking questions of each other. I smiled as I went back to my office, maybe just maybe this job will be alright.

I did notice later in the afternoon that I was fixing my lipstick and powdering my nose if needed. Something never mentioned to me or taught. I guess my trial in the female gender can be called an unqualified success, since Olivia has now been totally assimilated.

I do love my new life and have availed myself of several of the salon’s treatments to make me more realistic as a female. Breasts and hips among the salon’s services with way too many clothes and heels now occupying my closet space. I am sure sis will be happy, just as happy as I am being a Gurl for the rest of my life

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Patrice, Gender Change Gurl

We had just been assigned a new supervisor at work, her name is Kelly Walker, transferred here from the main office. Our old supervisor had retired, having recently achieved twenty five years with the company.

We all wondered what Ms. Walker was like, an inquiry to a few employees we dealt with at the main office yielded very little information on her. They did tell us she was in her late twenties, and had progressed up from a new hire to supervisor level in less than eight months.

She was strict but fair, demanding a full day’s work in exchange for a steady job, free from fear of termination. She tolerated very little gossip or talking while working, job first then at break or lunch an employee could talk and gossip all they wanted.

The first few days she made the rounds introducing herself to each of us and checked in on what tasks we were working on. No comment on how we were performing the task for most of us, just observing what we were doing.

We noticed she had our personnel files with her as she made the rounds, referencing them quite often as she talked with each employee and making notes therein.

It turned out I was one of the last employees to be checked out, I presume since I was a male she was just being courteous handling all the females first. She did spend longer with me than the others, always going back to my personnel file often to check the information out, then making copious notes in it.

She seemed to like how I handled my work, complimenting me on my organization and work habits. I smiled, it is always nice to receive compliments, especially from a new supervisor.

It was quiet the next couple of days, her working in her office, only interacting with us if we ran into a problem we couldn’t handle. Then the next morning I was summoned into her office. I was told to take a seat, then she retrieved a huge folder from her file cabinet and placed it on her desk.

This was three times the size of my personnel file, from where I was sitting it looked like my name on the top folder. I swallowed hard, maybe I am in trouble here, although I have no idea what about.

She took her seat behind her desk, then mentioned she was recording our conversation, a copy to be placed in my file after our conversation. Another gulp, now she has me definitely worried.

I was shown a slip of paper acknowledging my receipt of the company personnel manual and stating that I had read it and understood all of its contents. I looked at my signature in the bottom line of the form, remembering signing it when I was hired a little over a year ago.

She wanted me to repeat I did read the manual and understood its contents without any doubt. I did so, my voice a little shaky since I could not figure out where she was headed with this line of questioning.

She smiled at me, again complimenting me on my work and how I performed my job. Next she did ask a few personal questions about my home life, if I was married and if I had any children. Those questions were prefaced with a statement that I was not required to answer, it was just her trying to find out a little more about me.

As it looked like she was concluding the meeting she handed me a sheet of paper, labeled first warning on violation of dress code. I stared at it, then read the full complaint. A copy of my employment application was attached to it with the box noting sex (gender) as female circled.

The complaint was detailed, noting that I had willfully disobeyed the dress code for quite some time, it just coming to her attention when she took over the department.

I swallowed hard, then leaned back in the chair almost falling out of it. I stuttered a response, but I doubted she understood my words as I didn’t even know what I was trying to say. In essence the warning required me to dress appropriate for the gender shown when I was hired. Further failure to do so would result in immediate termination.

I finally manged to get out the word mistake, but since she had already given me a copy of my employment application with the gender box marked female along with a copy of my I.D. attached to it, I doubted she believed me. The picture on the I.D. was a female one, the likeness leaving very little doubt it was me, the gender box on the same I.D. also marked female.

I noticed the name on the license was Patrice, not Patrick, the name I was born with. A couple of letters different but a world of difference gender wise.

I just set there, trying to figure out how this had happened. My head was drooped, not wanting to look at her, fearing she was waiting for a response from me. She cleared her throat, asking if I denied any of the information placed before me. I looked at the application again and the copy of my I.D. shaking my head at what was obviously written thereon. I was sure it was fake, since I clearly remembered filling out the application when I was hired, but it looked real enough.

I remembered I had I.D. with me, quickly pulling out my wallet then removing my driver’s license out of its holder. The number on the license matched the number on the copy lying in front of me, the only difference was the picture. Even the name was spelled as Patrice, why I had never noticed the spelling of my name before a mystery. The picture on the current license looked a little less feminine, but still not clearly a males. I looked at the gender box on the license and it was blank, so it did not prove anything.

I then remembered getting my license renewed just last November, so the copy in my file was off my old license, not the new one. Since they shred the old license when they issue a new one, I still had nothing to prove a mistake had been made.

She let me have time to think, while she looked at some more things in my file. I didn’t know how to respond to her, since she seemed to have all she needed in front of her. She cleared her throat, and suggested that I listen carefully to what she had to say.

“From this day forward we need you to dress according to the dress code for females, since you have willfully disregarded it for quite some time. If indeed the application and I.D. are all fake, I have no choice but to terminate you immediately and will most likely demand you reimburse the company for all your wages since you were hired. The reason being you obtained the job fraudulently with fake information, a federal offense.”

She allowed me to respond, but my tongue was caught in my throat and my mind was pure mush. Reimburse them all of my wages, that would be impossible, but the likely hood of being terminated with cause left me speechless. I started to say something a couple of times, but I failed miserably in putting a coherent sentence together, in fact any kind of sentence.

I presume she felt sorry for me, telling me to take the rest of the day off, then call or email her before five to let her know what I was going to do. If she didn’t hear from me she would make out the termination papers and calculate the amount of wages I would be expected to pay back, emailing both of these papers to me.

She waited for me to say something, but with no words emanating from my mouth she dismissed me. I rose from the chair as she placed in my hands the warning about adhering to the dress code, a copy of my application and the copy of my I.D. that was in my file, then pointed to the door. Just like that the meeting was over, my life now shredded beyond belief.

I left the office depressed and frustrated. I picked up my things at my desk and left the building. I think several fellow employees had said something to me as I left, but nothing had penetrated my mind.

I made it to my car, got in and just sat there. It was like a surreal movie, things that should be impossible suddenly there and clearly real. I have no idea how long I sat there, but an urge to use the bathroom kind of brought me out of my trance. I drove home, a thirty minute drive from work, then entered the house.

First stop the bathroom, then after that was handled a trip to the kitchen, for some coffee, hoping that the caffeine might help make some sense of this morning’s events. I was tempted to find my bottle of vodka, but although it would numb me to the predicament I was in, it would not solve anything.

After the third cup of coffee, I gave up, none of this is going to resolve itself. I found the papers she had given me, looked them over again, with the idea of filing them away. I doubted I will still be in their employ a week from now.

I had thought about quitting before they fired me, but was not even sure that it was possible without more consequences being dumped on me.

At the bottom of the first warning on violation of the dress code she had written a business name down and a phone number. It was in her hand writing, just like in the other paperwork she had furnished me.

The Turnabouit Gurl Salon was the name of the business, so I looked them up on the internet, pausing after I read what they did. Why she would provide that business name puzzled me for a while.

My curiosity was piqued so I called the salon and asked a few questions. The lady who answered the phone was very helpful, suggesting that I come in, where they could explain better what they did and how it was done. She would be there until nine tonight, and would like to meet me and talk a little more about my situation.

I was still depressed, although the phone call did shed a little light on my problem. What the heck, it will only be my time that is wasted if nothing comes of this. If something is not worked out I might have a lot of time to waste in the future.

I drove over to the salon, as I parked in the area next to the salon I was impressed at the size of the place. I did enter the salon, but was watching the goings on rather than listening to the receptionist.

She seemed quite intelligent calling another lady to come to the front. Jill introduced herself and grabbed my hand and led me to the back. I followed along, not knowing what was happening as we passed through the salon.

Many things caught my eye as we went, but my mind was not able to process but a few of them. I was shown to a seat in an office and she set next to me still holding my hand.

Over the next half hour she managed to find out what had happened, telling me that they could help if I wanted to adhere to the dress code. I asked about the cost, she made a call to someone else and shortly another lady showed up. Jill and her conferred for awhile, as Jill filled her in on what had happened to me. The lady wrote something down on the fact sheet that Jill was filling out on me then hugged me and walked back to whatever she was doing.

Jill looked my way, telling me that the basic transformation would cost me nothing, clothing would be discounted fifty percent and the only requirement of me for the future would be a weekly appointment at the salon to maintain my image. That would run somewhere around fifty dollars a week depending on what I had done. I had her repeat that last statement not believing what I was hearing. Jill said if I agreed all would be put in writing in plain easy to understand terms.

I asked again about the gender change, Jill suggesting they do a scan of my body, then she could use their in house software to show me what I would look like as a female. I hesitated but she had already risen from her chair, helping me to remove my clothes. Too much happening for me, my mind in partial meltdown, emotions almost to the sobbing stage, I just stood there and watched as I was being undressed.

Jill moved me in front of a screen, then turned on a machine that carefully scanned my body, the scanned image appearing on the screen behind me. After it was done scanning I was offered a robe to slip on, my male clothes suddenly not where she had laid them.

She punched in some options on her computer and my image changed with each new option that she entered. I sat in a chair to the side of her desk, amazed at what I saw appear on the screen.

When she finished her options, I was staring at the screen, a quite attractive female the only image I saw. Then it occurred to me that the image was almost a perfect match to my feminine picture on my ID when I applied for the present job initially.

She handed me some papers to sign, explained what they were for and suggested that I give it a try. From what you have told me you have nothing to lose and quite a bit to gain. I did sign the authorizations, not really aware of what I did, but knowing that without this miracle I was in trouble and that is with a capital T.

Jill grabbed my hand again, pulled me into a hug and told me to relax, let them do their part. Then do what I feel I need to do after I see the results. I did stick out my neck, emailing Kelly, that I would adhere to the dress code as of tomorrow morning and thanking her for the advice. This was just before quitting time, only fifteen minutes to spare from her stated deadline.

Jill saw that I was taken care of, each step performed with care and attention to detail. Body hair the first to see its demise, followed by a similar treatment to my facial hair requiring one further treatment later to make that change permanent. Then they moved on to my hair, which was washed and conditioned, then set in curlers. Back to a table, my feet secured in stirrups as my male organ was disposed of.

Luckily it was not removed, just glued down to my groin out of sight. A vagina cover was glued over the top, making me look anatomically correct for a female. I wondered if that change had to be as detailed as it is, surely just wearing female clothes would be enough to satisfy the dress code. Too late now though for pursuing a different option.

Next was the addition of breasts, two very realistic breast forms were glued above my nipples. Their seams camouflaged with a concealer cream making them look like original equipment. I looked at her then at the breast forms, wondering about the size. They looked huge to me, way larger that I suspected I would need to portray a female of my size and height.

Jill just smiled, yes they are proportionate for your size, besides the fullness will help make your clothes look better on your figure. With the body additions handled she moved to finish my makeup, then removed the curlers and brushed my hair into the style she had cut into it before she shampooed it.

From the neck up I was definitely female, way too much female in my opinion, but female none the less. My body looked female too, a thing or two still not properly female. I was stood up and a corset was fastened around my body, then tightened up giving my straight up and down figure some curves. Now my body looked totally female, the tapered waist adding the necessary curves for a shapely female.

Panties were next, fitting snugly where there had been a protrusion before. A bra for my breasts, since she had glued them on I had noticed how heavy they were, the bra helping to support them and keep them in a perky configuration for my figure. A slip was next, the dress she had selected requiring one to be worn. Then the dress, it was a dress but with a jacket making it look like a skirt suit.

My ears were pierced, and a lovely set of earrings were affixed to my ears, the short dangly bit tickled my ears with their gentle movement as I turned my head.

I was given a couple of outfits to start my wardrobe and some underwear for the next few days along with a nightie for tonight. She made me appointments for each morning for the next few days so that the salon could fix anything that I couldn’t get quite right about my appearance. Another hug, a bill for my clothes and a card reminding me of my appointments and I was off home.

I felt better as I left the salon, I kind of liked my appearance since it was not comical like I had first imagined it would be. The clothes were still a little much to handle, but they did feel good on my body.

The heels that I was given, was another matter though, making my legs look good in their stockings, but almost impossible to walk in. Jill assured me I would get used to them quickly, then most likely not go anywhere without them in the future. I doubted that.

On the way back home I stopped to get some take out, not a word said by the people at the drive in windows except to welcome me and thanking me for my order. I made it home, laying the food on the kitchen counter, anxious to see myself in the bedroom mirror to see if I really looked that good and realistic.

In front of the mirror I turned this way and that, appraising my looks seeing if there was any obvious flaws in my appearance. I could find none, so I reluctantly left the mirror to eat my food.

I had been given makeup wipes to use to remove my makeup and moisturizing cream to use afterward. I had also been given makeup to apply in the morning and instructions on its use, but doubted I would be very successful at that task. I did get the makeup off and used the cream on my face, hands and arms as instructed.

I might be able to do the hair, some brushing and most of it should fall back into place. Makeup was another matter, I doubted I could duplicate the look if I took all day to do it. Thus the appointments to help me correct any deficiencies. Another look in the mirror, even without makeup the image is still quite feminine.

I was pooped after all that had transpired today so was fast asleep as soon as I laid down in the bed, maybe tomorrow might be better.

Before my eyes closed I hugged my body in the covers, a warm feeling of contentment spreading throughout. A most unexpected feeling.

I was awake early the next morning, knowing I had lots to do and no real experience doing them. I managed to get my hair looking alright but after the third attempt of getting my makeup on I gave up. I dressed in my new clothes, then headed for the salon.

I decided to skip breakfast, since my stomach was rumbling, my nerves on edge. The salon corrected my faults, hair just needing a few brush strokes and they did my makeup for me. Since I had a few moments to spare, they took it all off and had me do it myself. It wasn’t as good as they had done but passable. I then drove on to work, arriving a little early actually.

Kelly saw me enter the offices, smiled and returned to her own office. I did get some looks through the day, but nothing was said to me and all of the looks were followed by huge smiles. The work was no different.

By lunch I was not aware of how I was dressed, the breasts did get brushed by my arms a couple of times, the nipple on the breast form getting hard and pointy. Something that I did not think would be possible from a glued on breast form.

A bathroom break took quite a bit more time, lots of clothes to remove or lower and then more time to wipe the moisture that seemed to spew everywhere when I peed. Then everything had to be put back.

Once that was accomplished my makeup had to be repaired, mainly lipstick and some powder for patches of my skin where it had worn thin. That caused because I was always touching my face, a bad habit I needed to break.

I completed the day, even enjoyed the pleasant feeling that seemed to accompany me during the day. As I was getting ready to leave, after turning off my computer and straightening my desk Kelly asked me to come to her office.

My mind started envisioning lots of bad things happening but I did make it to her office. I sat in a chair on front of her desk and placed my hands in my lap. She observed me for a minute then took out that huge file of mine from her desk.

She opened it about half way, then asked me if I could do what I did today for the foreseeable future. I told her I presume so, other than the clothes, makeup and hair it was no different than any other day.

Well I am leaving tomorrow to go back to home office, my job here is completed. Tomorrow when you come in move your few personal things in here, since you will be taking over for me. Of course as a female, since the company needs more females in supervisory positions.

You will be making thirty thousand dollars a year, a one week paid vacation and a clothing allowance of a third of your wages for the first year. After that clothing will be your responsibility. Now do you have any questions for me, if not good luck and welcome to the female gender.

I got a hug and she left taking her briefcase with her. I sat back down in the chair, wondering just what the hell happened. I got up and sat in her chair, my file still spread out on the top of the desk. I looked at the sheet that was on top, noticing my new salary and the bit about the clothing allowance.

Then one line below it. A gender change will be required for this person to assume the position. Nah, they wouldn’t go to all of this just so I could become the new supervisor would they? The gender change completed, now a gurl in this new life.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Prissy, A Blushing Bride

I saw the ad in the local newspaper and immediately changed clothes to go to the interview. The best restaurant in town was hiring staff to wait on tables. I checked the wording carefully, no mention was made about waiters or waitresses just staff to serve food and wait on tables. They had a good reputation in town, paying decent wages and offering a lot of fringe benefits
.
I knew that their staff up to now was exclusively female, but maybe I could somehow get on with them. Maybe even force them to hire me, threatening them with a discrimination lawsuit if they turned me down. Let’s face it I was desperate. It had been five long months since I had a steady job, the odd employment here and there not doing much for paying the bills and providing something to eat.

I had lots of experience as a waiter, working several summers in different restaurants and resorts. So I made sure I had my resume and the numerous letters of reference that my former employers had given me. I checked my appearance in the hall mirror and headed to the restaurant.

When I drove up I saw the line coming from their front door all the way to the parking lot. They didn’t open until five PM.,so since it was a little past ten in the morning I stood a good chance of getting to be interviewed. After finding a spot at the end of the line I looked ahead of me, all I saw was females, most of them quite attractive.

One of the gals ahead of me after seeing me join the line did tell me that they only hired females. I smiled but told her that I hoped to change that fact. She giggled at my statement but otherwise left me alone.

It was boring standing in the line all day, but at three in the afternoon I finally made it to the person doing the interviewing. She was an attractive woman, but no nonsense in her dealing with the prospective applicants ahead of me. I did notice a smile as I stepped forward.

I handed her the application, my resume and my letters of reference. She read them all carefully, then laid them to the side. She asked several questions, not what I was expecting though. Mostly about what a server should do to make sure their customers were satisfied. I answered truthfully, her eyebrows showing surprise at my responses. Her name tag printed with the name Ginger, head of Human Resources, Paramount Corporation.

She did state that they only hired females, but I was already laying a copy of the ad down in front of her. I pointed to the wording, then asked if she had a letter from the newspaper saying they had made a mistake in publishing the ad. She got a smirk on her face, her demeanor changed though as she told me she didn’t.

She wrote out an address, telling me to be there at eight in the morning for a test of my skills. I looked at the piece of paper, the address was at one of their other restaurants, one that served breakfast. The address was close, so I nodded my head in acceptance and I told her I would see her in the morning. I got a huge smile from her as she replied that she is looking forward to it. The few females behind me were giggling as I walked back to my car, but I just held my head high and tried to ignore them.

As I drove home I wondered if this might just turn into a job for me, but reality kind of reared its ugly head, no just a way for her to find a reason that I was unsuitable for the job. I did stop at the restaurant I will have to be at in the morning for my supposed test. I ordered a drink and a few fries, while I checked the place out.

I looked around making sure I made myself familiar with the layout and where the food was served from. There were quite a few tables in the restaurant, most of them quite close, closer together than at most other restaurants in town.

Apparently their business had increased considerably since they opened causing them to add all the extra tables. It would add to the difficulty of serving food and getting around. After checking the place out I picked up some tacos at the drive in next door and made my way on home. The tacos to be my dinner tonight.

I thought quite a bit about my supposed test, wondering what she would want and what things she might add to the test to make things more difficult. Her options were unlimited, from waiting on a large group to some customers wanting lots of personal attention. Then if I passed the test, what she might insist on if I was hired. I was determined to somehow get hired by them, no matter what I might have to do to succeed. If hired, I hoped that phrase might become real after tomorrow.

After a somewhat sleepless night, I showered dressing in some of my better clothes. I brushed my hair then gathered my application, resume and anything I else I thought I might need and left, planning to be early for my test. When I arrived she was already there, the restaurant full and everybody hustling to get the customers served. Ginger pulled me aside and told me what she had in mind for me.

I was shown the area I would be responsible for, and introduced to the other waitresses as they came to pick up their customer’s orders. I was instructed to wait on the tables in my area after the present customers finished and paid their bill. She did have me slip a smock over my clothes, one that all the other waitresses were wearing.

It was noticed, my fellow waitresses giggling up a storm. On me it looked like a short dress, with the zipper in the back, my pants peeking out from under the smock making the look incongruous. Once on it would be with me for the length of the test. She took pleasure in zipping me up, then pointed to the first table that was changing customers, my cue to start my test.

Before I knew it I was waiting on ten tables, right in the center of the crowded restaurant. It took me a few minutes to get into the swing of things, but luckily it did not affect my customers being served. To say I was busy, that would be quite an understatement. I did see her watching me all during my test. It was almost ten thirty when I managed to give my last customer their check.

I had waited on those tables through three different sets of customers, mostly pleasant although I received many stares when I first came to their table. No one asked why a male was waiting on them, or wearing a smock as I did so. It was only after I had served their food that they seemed to relax and resume conversations that they normally would indulge in over a breakfast meal.

By now the restaurant was somewhat empty, so I finished clearing my tables and setting them up for the lunch business. Ginger got up from the table she had been sitting at and grabbed my arm and led me to an office in the back of the restaurant. So far no words spoken to me. Once in the office she complimented me on my ability, but it left her in a quandry about hiring me.

You obviously have the experience needed but the position you applied for is not filled by males in our restaurants. I do have one place where I hire males, but I am not sure you will want to work there. I started to say something but she told me to wait until she divulged what it will take to accept that job.

It is a night club, where we offer a full menu of food and drinks. It has become quite popular as of late, reservations now required to be able to get in. You do fit the requirements to work there as I look at you. The pay is twice what we pay at our other restaurants, the fringe benefits the same and you do get a hefty clothing allowance on top of everything else.

It is six days a week, working a six hour shift. We open at five PM. and close at two AM. The shifts are staggered somewhat since the club does not get real busy until eight. After everybody has been waited on they usually manage to have everything cleaned up and set for the next day by four in the morning.

I blushed red, figuring out what club she was talking about. The food servers were all males, but had to wear costumes to work there. The costumes were varied, each employee never wearing the same costume two days in a row. The difficult part to accept is all of the costumes were for females.

I had never been to the club, but had been told about it by several lady friends. It was quite popular with the ladies, they liked seeing a male dressed as a maid, a baby, an exotic dancer, a housewife or many other types of female attire serving them food and drinks.

I was dead set against it until she mentioned the pay and the amount of time I would work. I could do the job and have quite a bit of time free to do other things. She obviously saw that I was interested, since I had not got up and walked out on her. She waited till I said something, letting me think it over. I tried to say something three times before a few words managed to get out of my mouth.

She suggested that I work there one night, as an assistant food server, so I could get a feel for what I will be doing, then if I want to pursue a full time job with them I could let her know. I managed a nod, suddenly my voice had left me, my mind was frazzled and coherent thought seemed impossible.

She picked up the phone, called someone then informed them of my trial shift. They could use me tonight, so she arranged a time for me to be there, explaining to me that I needed to arrive an hour earlier tonight, so I could be made up and given a costume.

If it became a regular job two hours early are required, but the company pays for that time at the regular pay rate. Any tips are yours, some of the employees make quite a bit of extra money. The tips are directly related to the costume they are put in, thus the main reason that the costumes are switched every day, giving everyone a chance to benefit from a particular type of costume.

She made sure I knew where the club was and that I still wanted to try it out for a night. I did manage a yes, although it was barely heard, the resulting reappearance of a deep red blush made any further words impossible. I did receive a hug as I blindly stumbled out of the office. I managed to make it to my car, but after getting into it I just sat there trying to figure out just what I had agreed to. Finally I got it together and drove the short distance home.

Once home I made it as far as my sofa, then collapsed on it to rehash the morning. That was when I noticed I was still wearing the smock. I twisted and turned trying to get to the zipper and out of the smock. Success at last, as I slumped back on the couch.

I was proud of myself being able to show her what I could do, but the job offered left me quite concerned. The money sounded great, even the clothing allowance sounded interesting, but I did wonder why a clothing allowance was offered in the first place.

No decisions made, still unsure how I had been talked into doing this. Then if memory served me right she didn’t talk me into it, I volunteered. The rest of the afternoon was spent thinking of what I had let myself in for. Finally it was time to head to the club.

I made it a little early and wandered into the club. The bouncer asked my name and then two ladies came from inside the club to escort me to their work area. I was undressed and made to stand as they looked my body over, looking at each other and smiling. I was led over to a flat table, and helped up onto it. A cream was spread over my body, left on for a while then wiped off, my little amount of body hair coming off on the towels. I was turned over and the back side handled the same way. Now nude and hair free they started putting pieces of a costume together for me. When they came back to me, the small amount of cloth in their hands did not bode well for me. Maybe I will get a dress or something more to help cover up my body.

Two small breast forms were glued to my chest, then a bra added to hold them in position till the glue dried thoroughly. I noticed the significant weight even though the breast forms were smaller than normal. They looked like a teenager’s breasts, maybe a B cup, although I am certainly no judge on bra cups sizes.

Then my feet are placed in stirrups extending from the end of the table and spread wide so they could take care of junior. He was handled for a few moments then I lost feeling down there. When they finished they held up a mirror to let me see my new female sex. Junior was hid under a fake vagina, quite realistic looking and inviting.

Then came my costume, a garter belt first holding a pair of sheer stockings up followed by a pair of panties. Then a nightie was slid over the lingerie. The nightie was almost sheer, the bra, garter belt and panty quite visible through the material.

A pair of towering heels slipped on my feet, the ankle straps securing them to my feet. I guessed the heels were at least five inches tall, how they expected me to be able to walk in them I am not sure. To help handle that problem I was allowed to walk around the room as they handled another male employee.

I watched as they converted him to an adult baby, diapers, a onesie and footies, his costume. His hair was put in braids, with ribbons tied in bows at the end of each pigtail. A little bit of makeup and some mittens for his hands and he was ready. Apparently he had this costume before, since he barely reacted to being dressed this way. He did receive a pacifier slipped into his mouth before he went to the floor, the ribbons on it tied behind his head in a bow.

Meanwhile I was getting used to the heels, now able to get around fairly easy. I knew though when I had food to serve, the task would be more difficult. Right before I was pronounced done I was sprayed with perfume, a very feminine smell now emanating from my body. Then a spray down my throat and my voice was much higher and weaker. My hair was curled, their use of a curling iron giving me lots of bouncy curls. I received some lipstick and mascara, those two items making the gender change complete.

The one gal lead me to the club floor where Ginger was waiting for me. She had the biggest smile on her face, her only comment is you look so precious. I was introduced to the other waitresses, every type of female apparel or costume represented. There were cheerleaders, office workers, exotic dancers, house wifes, belly dancers, schoolgirls and a female in a prom dress to name just a few.

There was not an area for each employee, each of us to wander the floor and wait on the customers for whatever they wanted. I was soon to find out that the customer picked who they wanted to wait on them mainly by the costume we were wearing. I was assigned one of the other employees, her costume a dominatrix. We made quite a pair, but she was nice and we were soon busy setting up the tables for the evening. She warned me about the attention I would receive tonight, the female in her nightie always getting lots of attention, not all of it desired.

She did inform me that any new employee usually received either the nightie or the exotic dancer, an unwritten rule of Ginger’s. She also told me that I could expect some attention from Ginger tonight, making sure I got the full effect of the job. Jennifer would take the orders and I would be expected to get the food or drink and serve them at the table.

Depending on who was free, one of us would present the bill and get them change or a credit card slip for them to sign when they were ready to leave. We would split tips and share in the cleanup after the club closed.

The first customers were let in about thirty minutes later, the steady stream after that had the club filled within an hour. The guys mainly sought out Jennifer and I while the ladies seemed to pick the cutest servers to get them food and drinks. Of course, the males were also enthralled with the exotic dancer, her pasties and g-string her only costume.

During the evening when I had a chance to look at some of my fellow servers I had a hard time believing that they were once male. Later in the evening I finally noticed the pictures on the wall, each employee pictured as a male and then in one of the costumes proudly displayed for all to see. I did wonder about their breasts, most of them having breasts that looked so real, their movement and hard nipples quite noticeable to everyone.

I did get groped several times, I just backed away from them waving my finger no no and then smiled. Ginger did make me get her some food, then a drink later, but otherwise acted quite normal, not what I was expecting.

By the time to close the club my feet were in severe pain, the back of my legs just throbbing. I stayed with it though making sure I did my share of the cleanup. When I finished I asked Jennifer where we changed back to our regular clothes, she gave me a smirk and whispered we don’t.

You go home in your costume and if you become a regular employee you come to work in a dress or some other type of female apparel. She was going to say more, but saw Ginger coming my way and left me to her.

Ginger asked how I liked the job, then complimented me on my costume and my service tonight. She waited for me to say something, but I was at a loss for what to say. I did finally manage to ask her about where I could change before I headed home. A huge smirk appeared, she telling me that I wear the costume home. Most of the other waitresses usually bring a coat to slip over their costume before they head home.

You are expected to come to work in a dress or skirt bringing your costume that you wore the previous evening back with you. The reason for that is the false vagina and the boobs are semi-permanent as long as you work for the company. If you sign on you will be fitted with the semi-permanent appliances before you work your next shift.

The clothing allowance is so that you can buy a wardrobe for your new female self, sufficient for everyday wear. Heels are mandatory from now on if you decide to join us, a few weeks wearing them and you will be committed to a high heel to be able to walk.

Of course, makeup and a feminine hairstyle is required at all times, the only connection to your previous male existence will be the picture we will display in the club with a before picture next to it. Now do I sign you up tonight or do you want to think about it for a while?

She did have to close my mouth, pushing up on my chin to close the gap. I sat down in one of the chairs near me and held my head in my hands. She asked again and I nodded in the affirmative, words still not forthcoming. She helped me up, pulling me into a hug and held me tightly. I was now leaking some moisture from my eyes, but steadfastly refused to admit I was crying. She gathered me up in her arms, walking to the back to retrieve my purse, opening it so I could see my wallet and keys were inside. My clothes that I had worn here now missing.

I was led to her car and she drove me home, asking me if I will be alright. When I hesitated in answering her she drove off, telling me she is taking me home with her. Before we made it much farther I was asleep, slumped on the seat my head on her shoulder.

I remember being led to a bedroom, and helped to get somewhat undressed. Of course, the nightie was left on, a few minutes laying there and I was lost to the world. I got rudely awakened the next morning, Ginger’s smile and smirk the only things I saw. I was pulled out of bed then through her house, right out to her car, with me trying desperately to slow her down.

I was driven to a salon on the other side of town, and taken in to the reception desk. She told the lady that Prissy was here for her appointment, make sure she turns out pretty. I have enough adequate females, I need a few super glamorous ones to balance out the group. All the time I was just standing there, my mouth open and unable to even think of a retort.

As she left me there, my only piece of clothing a nightie and feeling like the world was totally against me, two ladies came to escort me back to their treatment room. I noticed one of the ladies was the one who helped me transform last night, so it wasn’t like I had been left alone and abandoned.

My breasts and fake vagina were removed, the area cleaned and then they started working on me. The one gal working on my male sex, the other one gluing cups to my chest right above my nipples. Before junior was able to swell up, he found himself tucked between my legs and secured there. The gal doing the work told me the glue was super strong, it would take the solvent to get him loose. The silicone vagina was glued over the area using the same adhesive.

She carefully inserted something in my new slit, as I tried to leave the table, the sensations overwhelming me. She pushed it in further then pumped it one more time and I had a release of sticky fluid flowing out of my vagina, I presume cum from my male organ. She inserted a tampon to stop the flow, suggesting when I take my shower later that I wash thoroughly down there, and then replace the tampon. When having sex she suggested I avoid the well hung studs, although their male organs will fit, it might be uncomfortable till you get used to it.

My attention was suddenly brought to my chest as the other lady attached a hose to each cup, a pump starting to suck extraneous tissue into the cup glued to my chest. In the next few hours I lost count of all the things done to me. I did receive pierced ears, my eyebrows were thinned and arched and semi-permanent makeup was applied to my face.

I did figure out no matter what clothes I might be wearing all anybody will likely see is a female. I stared at the image in the mirror, knowing Ginger will be getting her money’s worth before I am completed. They did things to my lower legs, I received extensions on my fingernails and way too many coats of polish to preserve the look.

There were other things, but I quickly lost track of everything that had been done to me. Let’s just say that I was quite glamorous and will never be mistaken for anything but a gorgeous female, as per Ginger’s request.

It was quite an experience, one that I will not forget for awhile. Then I realized I had to work tonight, gawd can this get any worse. I did have some time to kill before my time to show up at the club. I spent it lounging around the salon watching others get transformed to the female sex. The one lady who had dressed me last night showed up, telling me to come with her, she could prepare me for the club here, then all I had to do was show up at the club later.

I followed but do to my lack of forethought I missed the obvious flaws that I would encounter later.

It didn’t take her long to make the change, with my new assets all she had to do was supply a pair of pasties and a g-string and I was pronounced done. Two days in a row I ended up with the most embarrassing costumes possible. I did receive a wrap, sufficient enough to cover me up on the way to the club. Then she had the nerve to deduct the cost from my clothing allowance. I was also warned that if I lost my g-string or one of my pasties I would have to pay to replace them.

I sat backstage at the club until it was time to start my shift, the time seeming to crawl along. I thought that eight o’clock would never get here. I managed somehow to work my shift, although I did more maneuvering to avoid being groped than what I had to do to get their food and drinks to the table. After we had cleaned up I let out another huge sigh, I had made it somehow, now to get home and out of the costume. I did smile when I counted my tips, over two hundred dollars in tips, presuming the exotic dancer was one of the costumes that garnered better tips.

On the drive home I thought about my last thought. Unless I wanted to sleep naked, I actually had to put on clothes after I removed my pasties and g-string. I wondered if future shifts would end up any differently. The costume would be different, but living the female life would be constant. Lingerie, hair, makeup would be everyday whether I was working or at home on my day off.

I did decide that a bra would be obtained for me to wear home where none was furnished as part of the costume. The weight and bounciness of my breasts were in need of support badly.

Once in the apartment I reached for my pasties, to pry them off my nipple. It had felt like it was squeezing my nipple all night long. I tried several times, pulling on the pasty did nothing but elongate the nipple, sending waves of pleasure to my mind.

I was able to get the g-string down my legs, but once off of my body I felt funny down there. It was like something was missing now. I kept at trying to get the pastie off, but all I was managing to accomplish is stimulating my nipple to flood my mind with pleasurable thoughts. I gave up, found a pair of panties from yesterday and climbed into bed.

In the past I had always had a snack before bedtime, but with all that has happened today, there was no appetite. I did manage to get to sleep, having to lay on my back because of the breasts and over stimulated nipples. I laid there for awhile, wondering if all of this is worth it, the pay is good, but I feel so ashamed and embarrassed all the time. No decision made, but it did cross my mind that since I had gotten the permanent enhancements, I apparently had signed up for the long term.

I needed to do some shopping for female clothes, but there was nothing at home that would fit anymore. Maybe my next costume at work would be one that I could wear to go shopping in. If not maybe I can borrow a dress to wear out. So when it was time to head to work, the g-string was slid up my legs and settled into place, then the wrap I had been given over the top of that. I was early, hoping that the gals could remove my pasties.

I got several giggles as I entered their work area, the one gal seeing the problem. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol, smeared some on my nipples and the pasties slid off.

She did mention to her cohort, that I needed to be a blond tonight, it will fit in better with my persona. I was beet red already, but she complimented me on not losing one.

Everything was refreshed, and my hair was put up in an elaborate updo. Long earrings were placed in my pierced ears and then I was set over to the side, having to wait until the club was about to open before I would be placed in my costume. I gave them a puzzled look, but as usual they just ignored me. I did get to watch all of the other transformations, realizing that for the most part we all presented as genuine females now, nothing indicating we were ever a male.

There was one who was wearing a tux and a male dress shoe. No makeup and his hair short and combed back. I don’t remember anyone like that before in the costumes so was puzzled now. The club had opened, now the only two left in the workroom were myself and the guy in the tux.

Then they brought in my dress, I nearly fainted, the guy coming over and held me, keeping me from face planting. It was awhile before I acknowledged that tonight I am a bride. The dress was huge, being able to serve food and drinks nearly impossible. Ginger showed up, that smirk plastered on her face. I was told that I am a part time hostess tonight, then in between I needed to make love to my new husband. No sex just a lot of kissing, cuddling and an occasional grope when desired.

“You don’t need to thank me, it is the least I can do for my favorite employee. Now you two run along and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Well Beth got me out to the club floor and then laid one on me. Yes, my guy is a female and boy can she kiss. We were instantly a hit, a lot of the club patrons wanting a picture of us with them. The flash of the camera almost embedded in my brain now. It turns out that the role of a bride is now my permanent costume, Beth and I having a lot of fun on the club floor making out and kissing during our shifts. It became so popular that we were asked to do it every night, but only for a six hour stint. I missed the tips, but did not miss the clean up and the risque costumes.

After work that first night as a bride, Ginger cornered me and asked me to be her full time girlfriend. No male persona wanted or desired just a full time Prissy. I squeaked out a yes. And I was quickly bundled up and put in her car for the trip to her house. I never returned to my apartment again, Ginger seeing that it was vacated and the contents disposed of.

So now when I show up for work, a conversion to a blushing bride and then Ginger gets me warmed up kissing my neck and rubbing my breasts that peek out of the wedding dress. Beth soon takes over and I spend six hours being loved, kissed and cuddled. Then home to Ginger and many more hours being ravished. This started over three months ago, but continues on just like it was my first day as a blushing bride.

Not what I was expecting when I tried to get employment with them, but I am sure I can find a way to put up with it.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Quinntessa, Hold That Pose

The ad in the local paper caught my eye. I reread it several times making sure that I was understanding exactly what the ad said.

Local company looking for a live mannequin for their store. Shift is five hours long, Monday thru Saturday. Either male or female can apply. Applicant must be slim of build and between five-eight and five-ten in height. Must be flexible and willing to model any type of clothes. Pay is ten dollars an hour. We will be hiring three individuals for the position to cover all hours of the store’s operation. Apply in person. T Gurl Fashions, located across from the mall’s southern entrance.

It sounded too good to be true but I didn’t waste any time in throwing on some clothes and heading over there. On the way there I wondered what exactly does a live mannequin do. The ten dollar an hour wage though soon made me forget about what I may have to do to earn it.

It seemed I was not the only one interested in the job judging from the line out the door of the store. I joined the other job seekers standing in line though. As the line made its way inside, I realized that the clothes I would be modeling would most likely be female, since that is all the store sold.

It took an hour to make it to the front of the line, then taken to an office at the back of the store. A taller lady asked me my name, if I worked or if I was a student. I responded no to the working, but a student who is trying to finish my degree, still lacking about twelve hours to graduate.

I was handed a stretchy white garment resembling a leotard and asked to step into the curtained area and put it on leaving all of my clothes there. The garment was very tight, with me having to pull and twist to finally get it in place. As I was fussing with the garment I had second thoughts about the job.

I had attempted to put it over my shorts, but one look and I realized that will never happen. So off with the white garment, remove my boy shorts and then attempt to get it up and positioned on my body. I ended up having to tuck my penis back between my legs, the garment holding it there snugly. It was uncomfortable at first but I hoped to be able to put up with the discomfort until I was finished with the interview.

It felt funny as I emerged from the dressing room, luckily for me my male thingy was too scared to react. I saw myself in the mirror right outside the dressing room, not much masculine about my appearance anymore. The fact that I hardly possessed any body hair only emphasized that fact.

I had done as instructed, stepping out naked except for the ultra-tight garment I was wearing.

Ms. Parker introduced herself, she would be the one to outfit me and oversee my work. I was shown a pose and told to not move from it. My legs were splayed slightly, arms cocked at the elbows and to my sides.

She slid a dress over my shoulders, then slipped my arms into the sleeves then over my shoulders and zipped up the back of the dress. The dress startled me a little, I presumed it would be female clothes, but a dress right to start was quite a surprise. I guess a test to see how I would react.

I kept my stance, trying not to move any at all. She adjusted it on my body, pulling it here, tucking it there, and making sure it fit appropriately. Then she unzipped it and removed the dress. Another one was put on the same way, this one a form fitting dress, molding itself to my body from the shoulders to my thighs.

I have no idea what I thought the mannequin would be wearing but dresses was not one of those considered. The ad did say all types of clothing, my original assumption that it would be male apparel obviously very wrong. I knew as the first dress settled on my shoulders that my facial coloring had moved into the red spectrum. I just hoped that it was not that noticeable.

Then she had me follow her out to the store, having me pose on a dais near the register. I was now naked except for the basic white stretchy garment standing in a store with customers. I was posed again the same as before, leaving me there to get something from the back. She repeated her actions earlier, bringing a dress for me to wear, sliding it on and making adjustments as necessary.

This was done for five more dresses, each one very different in style and material. When she removed the last dress she approached with a bra, fastening it around me, then sliding a breast form in each cup. A scarf was fixed around my neck and she let me stand there for quite a bit of time. I wasn’t looking for a clock, just trying to remain still and immobile so I had no idea how much time had expired.

I could feel the band of the bra around my chest, tighter than I presumed a bra would be on my body. I did feel the weight of the breast forms though, the straps of the bra pulling on my shoulders.

I glanced around with my eyes to see if anybody was staring at me. In my limited field of vision no one was even looking at me. Even the line of applicants that was behind me had now suddenly disappeared. In just a bra with a scarf around my neck I was amazed, almost naked and no one even cared.

Then she approached and added lipstick to my lips, sliding a wig over my hair. Nothing was said, I just tried to maintain my composure and position as she added these items to my attire. Finally she approached and asked if I could stay relatively motionless for an hour I blinked my eyes and she left.

I could taste the lipstick on my lips, the longer hair at the back of the wig caressing my neck sending shivers up and down my spine. The hour dragged by, my mind going over all that had transpired, wandering if there would be more involved than what I had experienced so far.

She interviewed some others, but none of them were asked to do what I was doing. Finally she came and got me to return to her office. She reached out her hand, smiled then offered me the job. if I wanted it. Nobody else was interested after they found out what it entailed, so I could work all the hours I wanted. A thirty minute rest period every two hours, paid, of course, then another stint.

It would be similar to what I did today, the clothes would vary, makeup as needed and either a wig or my own hair styled if I had the time. I would be classified as an independent contractor, so there would be no overtime. I would bill the hours weekly minus any time for hair styling or other beauty services, but she would add a cash bonus to compensate for the time necessary to complete those specific services.

I was given a list of times she would prefer to have a mannequin, but would try and be flexible in when I worked. I had one class that interfered, but only had two more weeks of it before the semester break. She looked over the one discrepancy and made an adjustment and we were set.

Tomorrow afternoon I would start. She did ask that I shave my body hair, anything below my neck and she would make an appointment for it to be handled by the salon in the future.

I was ecstatic at getting the job, not fully realizing that I would be pretty much naked a lot of the time. That fact sunk in later as I was celebrating my new found job by eating out. I pondered what all I would have to do for the job, had some second thoughts, but the ten dollar an hour wage won out once again.

That evening I managed the task of shaving my body hair, although it took almost an hour and quite a bit of contortion to finally accomplish that task. For a male to be asked to shave his body, that is an almost impossible task. No prior experience at doing it, and then having to contort my body to reach all the spots that always seemed just a tad beyond my reach.

The next day I attended university in the morning and then went to the clothing store. I went into the back and undressed, sliding on the underwear she had furnished. It was a girdle like item that was very tight on me. I was instructed to tuck myself, pushing my balls back inside my body and my penis back between my legs. Once the garment was pulled up everything pretty much stayed in place. The girdle did help, now the white stretchy body suit slipped on easily. I was ready to go to work.

I was told to stand on a dais, with one hand on a pole to steady myself. The dais was wheeled out to the sales floor and my time started. I got another bra, this one a push up bra. Once secured she pulled the extra flesh on my chest up into the bra, providing me with some cleavage. That eliminated the need for breast forms.

Different dresses were put on me during the first two hour stint, sometimes left on for some time as she was helping a customer with her selections.

When the time was up I was wheeled back to the back and helped down off the dais. I used the time to stretch and use the bathroom, then sipping a little water getting ready for the next stretch. Before she wheeled me out this time she made up my face with a full complement of cosmetics. The wig was added and I began my next stint as a mannequin.

Only five or six changes this time, her store now quite busy with customers. Most of them complimented her on the lifelike mannequin, several times buying the outfit I was wearing. It was kind of embarrassing as my clothes were removed so that the customer could try them on for herself.

On more than one occasion I was touched and groped, customers trying to see if I was real or artificial. Ms. Parker said she would see what could be done to prevent the groping, she wanted to maintain the illusion of an artificial mannequin, not some human disguised as one.

The next few days were the same, I came to love my time as a mannequin a time to reflect and think of other things. I found out I could zone out, my light breathing the only connection to my physical self. When I came in for my Friday shift, she caught me before I could change and asked if I would allow her to get my hair styled.

I didn’t see a problem, like most colleges these days you could find almost any look displayed there for all to see somewhere on the campus. I was given an address and told they would take care of my hair giving me a feminine hairstyle. Then there would be no need for the wigs.

I drive over there and found myself in a feminine paradise. I was taken to the back promptly, my hair washed and conditioned. Then cut into a feminine style, even still wet the look now definitely female. Set in curlers and placed under a dryer, the gentle heat easing my body into dreamland.

I was nudged to wake up, then moved to the styling chair and the curlers were removed. I was watching as she started to style my hair, then suddenly looked at my hands. I now had long fingernails, painted a bright pink. I never realized when it was done, but it made such a difference in my appearance. They were quite noticeable, anyone looking at me would first see my hair then my long nails.

More thoughts about the escalating features being imposed on me. I knew I would be seen as a female now, the hair alone putting me in that gender. The long nails just confirming the gender change.

Ms. Parker had handled the bill already, the store was still open so I went back to let her see what her mannequin looked like now. As soon as I entered I was taken to the back and told to strip. I was handed a new garment rather stiff, but covered in lace. It pulled on like panties, but confined my male apparatus tightly against my groin.

A bra was added, my extra skin pulled up into the cups of the bra again. No white undergarment today, just the panties and bra. On the dais again and moved out to the store proper. Dresses again , although I was in each dress for a longer period, as she was busy helping customers with their purchases.

There seemed to be a lot more attention on me today, I guess the hairstyle added to the illusion significantly. I was out there for almost two hours, the store packed with customers.

Finally she was able to wheel me to the back, grabbing my face and kissing me hard on the lips. She left me to my own devices, since she still had a packed store. I was able to get out of the clothes, but couldn’t find my male clothes. Twenty minutes later she came back to her office and handed me a bag of clothes. Since my hair was now very girly she suggested I wear female clothes, to keep from having issues about my gender with less understanding individuals.

I nodded my head in agreement, but did have a few serious doubts. In the store was one thing, but out in the real world and having to interact with other people maybe not a good idea. I was already seen as a female, but avoided any interaction between myself and my admirers. Now with female clothes, any doubt about my gender would be gone. Tonight I had no choice, since my male clothes were missing.

I looked in the bag, a blouse and pair of slacks were there along with some clean underwear, presumably for tomorrow. The blouse was neutral, other than some lace around the neck and sleeves and the bust darts. The pants however, were very girly tight fitting in the hips and flaring out to ridiculous proportions. The back zipper didn’t help any, a male at a distinct disadvantage trying to get it up and fastened.

I did make it to my car, and then to my apartment, but was constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was laughing at my appearance. I lived on the second floor, having to climb a set of stairs to get there. There is five other apartments on the second floor, so getting in undetected might be a problem. I was right outside my door, getting my keys out of my purse, another recent addition to my attire before I left the store.

The door across the hall opened and Barb came out staring at the girl going into my apartment. Removing my keys proved to be a difficult task to start with for a male, the long nails only making it harder. I was hoping she would let it drop, maybe ask later about the strange girl.

No luck she followed me into my apartment turning me around so she could get a better look at my face. She let out a squeal that would deafen most eardrums then hugged me tight. I was carefully scrutinized in the next ten minutes then she led me to my couch, set me down and parked herself right next to me.

“Okay I need the whole story from the start and do not leave anything out.” She grabbed my hand as she finished that statement, probably to insure I wouldn’t try to make a run for it.

I explained the whole thing about me getting the job, the times I have worked already and the hair style and nails today. She hung on every word, assuring me that she would come to the store tomorrow to see me working. I explained that I didn’t move, just a lowly mannequin displaying clothes for my bosses customers. I tried my best to talk her out of coming to the store, I had an idea that she would most likely interrupt my concentration and I didn’t want to upset Ms. Parker.

She wanted me to tell her everything again, I could tell she was fascinated by my tale. I did repeat the happenings of the last few days, then she suggested some nourishment. I agreed, thinking she would go out and get us some burgers. She did want the burgers, but instead of her going out I was dragged along as we both went to the drive-in four blocks down the street.

I felt a little better about going out with her next to me, by the time we got there I had relaxed some. We did get some attention, but just normal male attention to pretty girls. Shit, did I just lump myself in the pretty girl category?

After eating I tried again to convince her not to come to the store. I finally gave up, when she told me that she would meet me at my last class and walk me to the store. The next day’s classes were almost a non-event. I was sure I would get noticed, because of the hair and nails, but one female in my history class the only one to notice anything. She had noticed my hair and complimented me on the style, much better than my ratty ponytail.

After my last class Barb did track me down attaching herself to my arm as soon as she was within reach. When we reached the store she looked around while I slipped into my outfit. As I was wheeled out to the front of the store, I heard a giggle. I presume it was her, my lack of clothes causing the giggle.

As soon as the dais was wheeled out the store became packed. It was like they were waiting for the mannequin to be displayed. I got changed into the one dress and that was the only one she had a chance to utilize, the register being quite busy from then on. Today she had even had an additional sales associate to help her, but still could not get loose. It was almost three hours before she could get me moved to the back for a break.

Barb did try and influence me during the rush, feeling my dress and moving my arm up and down. She also made funny faces at me trying to get me to break my concentration. I managed to stay focused, but not sure quite how I was able to accomplish that, some of her faces she made were quite comical.

Ms. Parker did get me out on the floor one more time that afternoon, but cut it short when the store started getting crowded again. The last outfit was a mini skirt with a see through lace blouse, my bra clearly showing through the blouse.

I noticed a rack next to where I was displayed with the items on it, by the time I was returned to the stock room the display was nearly empty. Barb waited for me to change, Ms. Parker giving me another outfit to wear home. A summer cotton gingham dress with a full skirt.

We walked home, about a twenty minute walk since it was still daylight and the weather was so nice. I felt the difference wearing a skirt outside, the cool breeze finding its way up my skirt quite often. Not enough to raise the skirt, but enough to allow me to feel every little gust.

As we entered the apartment building, several of the guys that are on the first floor greeted Barb, wanting her to introduce me to them. I spoke softly, extremely nervous as I faced these three guys. Barb knew them, and cut the introduction short, introducing me to them as her cousin, who already has a dreamy boyfriend, so you guys are out of luck.

Once we got to my apartment I thanked her, she suggested that I get a cheap engagement ring to wear that will help to keep the Lotharios at bay.

Ms. Parker was thrilled at my help in making the store more profitable. My first check was quite substantial, a pleasant surprise for me.

The next week went like the first, often once I was out on the floor the store would get so busy that I was out there for four or five hours. I had bathroom problems the first couple of times, then when I saw it was going to be a recurring problem I cut down my liquid intake from before lunch till I reached the store.

That seemed to solve the problem, so I was able to survive the longer periods on the sales floor. Each day I received a new outfit to wear home, having to remove a couple of my male outfits to get them all in my closet. Barb was thrilled with that, since we were almost the same size she would on occasion borrow an outfit for a date or special occasion.

I did receive a couple more salon procedures, one removing my body hair when it started growing back. They used a cream to handle the job, I was told another use of the cream and I would no longer have any body hair. I only had a few facial hairs, so one application of the cream and I was permanently hair free on the face.

The second procedure eliminated my almost non-existent eyebrows, they had been shaped before, but now they were totally missing. I just penciled in a high arch every day and I was good to go.

I eventually got used to the looks I received, I even interacted a little with a couple of the males. I much preferred Barb along with me, her support made everything so much easier. She went with me often, practicing her skills at getting me to crack up.

Thankfully she did it when there were few customers close to me.
The store was doing real well, I had already received three wage hikes due to the effect my presence was having on sales. Now Ms. Parker wanted me to come see her Saturday morning, wanting to discuss something she wanted to try.

I showed up an hour early, not knowing how long it would take to tell me what she wanted. She pointed to a chair in front of her desk. As I settled into the chair she told me what she would like me to do. The mall was planning some one day special sales where all stores were expected to participate. Each store depending on the size of the store would be allowed mannequins on raised dais spread throughout the mall. The clothes on the mannequin could be changed as often as they like, but the item displayed had to be offered at a sale price.

The thinking that the customers would walk back and forth through the mall looking for a sale on the items they might be interested in. Since the mall is open for twelve hours, lots of possibilities for a sale that they might be interested in.

Of course she wanted to use me as the display, but didn’t know if I could hold out for twelve hours. Any clothing changes would have to be done in full view of the customers. not an impossible task to handle.

Food and drink would have to be handled some way, but since the first of these special sale days was not for two weeks, maybe I could work out how to handle the possible difficulties. I told her I would do it, I knew it would be quite beneficial for her store, a whole day of special sales would increase her sales figures significantly.

Now all I had to do was figure how I could handle it. At least, I hoped I would be able to handle it. The food and water was the easiest to handle, I would eat the day before, filling myself up but not overdoing things, as of the night before I would withhold any more food and take only small sips of water.

When changing my clothes in the middle of the mall my boss could use a squeeze bottle to give me some water in my mouth, on the pretense of washing something off my lips. As far as waste goes, an enema of which I was not fond of before my stint in the mall would handle most problems, and me wearing a diaper under my foundation garments would handle any potential unexpected wetness problems.

As far as support for that long of time her dais had places for supports to be inserted in the base, so we would use some of them. After my outfit was changed my hands would be reattached to those supports to help keep me upright. A more substantial support would run up my back and be hidden under my foundation garment.

Once secured I would be unable to move much, that would help me in the later hours to keep from moving as my muscles became stiffer from holding the position for so long.

We decided on a trial run, on the following Saturday. I didn’t eat much Friday, stopping any water intake after midnight. Right before I left for work I gave myself an enema, the act of doing it reinforced my hatred of the task.

When I arrived at her shop, she took me back to the room where she usually got me dressed. The dais was there now with larger wheels on the four corners. A rod was in the center sticking up about shoulder high. there were two smaller rods in the corner of the dais, presumably for my hands.

I was diapered, her giggling all the time as I was pinned in it. She told me she had added a soaker pad to make sure any liquid would be contained. Then a plastic pair of pants to add an extra layer of protection. Her favorite part was coating that area in baby powder. I am sure I had enough on me for three babies. Most likely she was a frustrated Mother, now I was filling that vacancy.

Then the body briefer was loosely tied around my body. Some stockings were slid up my legs and attached to the garters hanging down from the briefer. A pair of heels in a neutral color that would look appropriate no matter what color clothing I was wearing was added to complete the lower part of my lingerie. Unfortunately they were quite tall changing how I stood.

I was moved to the dais, helped up on it and turned so my back was up against the rod in the center of the dais. I was not sure how she was going to connect the rod to me but after a few minutes she had apparently accomplished that part since I couldn’t move away from the rod. My hands were attached to the other rods by sliding them into a mitten, the mitten having a ring at the back of the mitten that slid into a hook on the end of the rod.

I looked at her with a questioning stare, I was immobile and was still half naked. She approached with something in her hand, asked me to open my mouth then shoved the item in it. I was taken aback, not expecting anything like that. It was sticky adhering to the insides of my mouth and my tongue, a few seconds later I couldn’t move my tongue and my mouth was stuck shut.

I stared at her, she just smiled, it will keep you quiet and will ooze moisture all day long. Now behave while I get your breasts attached to your chest. Two quite sizable breast forms were glued to my chest, then slipped into a bra. Since I would be without clothes a lot of the time the bra was lacy and quite pretty.

All ready for my debut I was wheeled out to the very front of her store, just inside her front door. I just realized how visible I would be here, no one walking by the store being able to miss seeing me. I did notice that Ms. Parker had hired several more sales associates to ring up customers, allowing her to spend more time to select and dress her mannequin.

The plan was for me to spend eight hours out here, then if it went well a twelve hour stint next Saturday one week before the big mall sale. The first few hours were a little hard, since I had been used to breaks every once in a while. At about the six hour mark I ended up using my diaper, the red in my face a sure sign of me doing the deed. Ms. Parker smiled at me, and I got a pat on my butt as she went to the back again to get more clothes.

There seemed to be a lot of people in the store, but being right out front I could not see how many sales she was getting. I think she changed my outfit twenty-two times, but at the end I was not sure of my count. Barb did make an appearance right near the end of my stint, at least I think it was near the end. With no clocks I had no way of telling time. I did catch her talking with Ms. Parker out of the corner of my eye, wandering what the two of them were cooking up.

Finally I was moved to the back, my eight hours apparently up. I was waiting to be released when Barb came into my field of vision. She walked around me surveying my looks and how I was attached to the dais.

She released my one hand and moved it behind my back fastening it to the rod. Then she did the same to my other hand, not much I could do to prevent it since my arms had been immobile for so long they were pretty useless to me. I felt the two hands in the mittens attached to each other and released from the supporting rod. She leaned down and tied a ribbon around each leg at the knees and then together allowing me a short but restrictive stride. The same done to my ankles. She released me from the rod, having to hold me for a moment as all of the weight settled on my feet in the heels.

After I moved a little she led me out the back door of the store and into her car. I presume I will be going to her apartment with her. When we got there she parked in her usual spot and freed me from the seat belt. I was stood outside of her car and a long coat was slid over my shoulders hiding my outfit and my bonds. My ankles were released and I was walked into the building right to her apartment.

I tried to head in the direction of my apartment but that was not to be. The gag still in my mouth kept me from voicing any words of protest, so I was soon in her living room in front of her couch. She grasped my head and kissed me, not letting me resist in any way. With my mouth full she was not allowed access, but believe me she is some kisser. I melted into her arms, as she moved her arms lower holding me tight.

Finally my hands were freed from behind my back, but they still were pretty much useless from being secured for so long. The mittens were secured to each other in front of me, a more comfortable way to be trussed up. I was laid down on the sofa, her tying my ankles to the arm of the couch. So much for wandering off and getting away from her.

Brief moments of some sanity surfaced every once in a while, wondering why she had kept me tied up when she removed me from the store. I liked her a lot, was comfortable with her but I did wonder why I was still unable to show her how much I wanted to be with her.

She returned a little later with a squirt bottle and flooded my mouth with some liquid. I think it was a juice of some kind, but my taste buds were way off. The blob in my mouth dissolved and the remains of it and the juice slid down my throat.

I was released from the couch and taken to her bedroom. Laid on the bed and undressed part way to get to my diaper. I turned red, not liking the idea of her changing my diaper. I tried to tell her no but she told me to be quiet or she would use another of the novel gags on me.

She changed my diaper, with me wondering why she just didn’t take it off. Then the realization she was going to keep me bound and unable to move hence the need for a diaper. I tried again to speak, her holding one of the balls right in front of me convinced me otherwise. I closed my mouth, better to be able to speak.

My dress was pulled back down and I was stood up. She attached my tied hands to the headboard and went to get something from another room. I was looking out the window hoping for some divine intervention when I heard her come back pushing something in front of her.

I rolled my eyes as she entered pushing something just like was at the store. It had three rods instead of the one main one, not as tall as the one at the store. I was quickly helped up on the platform and my butt attached to the back rod. This was done with a strap that went around my waist and through my crotch, the end attached back to the part around my waist. I heard a click and now I couldn’t move from the pole. I was leaned forward and my hands each attached to the poles at the corners of the platform. I can’t say it was comfortable but I guess I could live with it.

Then she unzipped the top part of the dress and slipped it part way down my body until it gathered around my waist. My bra was unfastened and removed then two clips were fastened tightly to my nipples and the cords attached pulled taught to the poles that were holding my hands. Although I had no feeling in the nipples the feeling of my whole breast form being stretched away from my body was there.

A hood was slipped over my head and she walked away plunging me into darkness. I was tempted to say something but decided to wait for a while to see if she was coming back. The thought of that blob in my mouth, enough to keep me quiet.

It was easier to take the restriction of not being able to move than at the store, but unable to see anything was certainly a negative. It seemed it took her forever to return, but the hood being removed caused a smile to come to my face.

That quickly vanished as I saw what my dinner was going to consist of. I was fed the baby food, almost gagging at the taste of it. Then drank the milk from a sippy cup, not as bad but it also didn’t taste like normal milk. She cleaned me up with a wash rag, then I was kissed passionately.

She explained that I need more practice at being a mannequin, thus I will be spending my nights in training. I groaned out loud causing her to reach for one of the balls. I quickly shut my mouth, hoping the pleading look on my face would stop her from inserting it in my mouth, an action that I could not prevent as tied up as I was.

She warned me again that one more sound and she would gag me and leave it in for a week. So for the next week I spent my time at my classes, then at the store for a six to eight hour shift. Then home to Barb’s apartment. Most nights I was spared the baby food, but as always hand feed every bite of my evening meal.

Always a groping session, where she showed me how much she liked her play toy. I didn’t mind, the amount of kissing, hugging, and body stimulation pretty much made my life quite satisfying. Attached to my home for the night, the hood slid over my head and I was soon asleep.

Several changes due to my attire became apparent over the next few days, wearing heels 24/7 except for when I was bathed caused my tendons to shorten. This made wearing at least a three inch heel a necessity to be able to walk or stand without pain in the calves of my leg.

Being in a diaper most of the time and unable to use the restroom like a normal person made me incontinent. That was disturbing to me, but since Barb loved to change my diaper I was not sure how to approach the problem.

The store’s sales continued to climb, most of her business coming when I was on display out front. Ms. Parker told me that quite a few customers would regularly call and ask when the mannequin would be on display, so they could plan their shopping trip to coincide.

It turned out that Ms. Parker hired Barb to handle me, getting me in position and making the clothing changes to me during my time at the store. That freed her up to wait on customers and ring up sales. Prior to our arrival she would pick out the clothes for me to wear, having them on a rack for Barb to use to dress me.

The next Saturday turned out to be a very long day for me. I was staying at Barb’s apartment now, with her taking me to work and back home after my shift. I spent every night on my dais there practicing my craft. That was after a session with my lover where I was shown how much she appreciated me in her life.

After removing the hood I was kissed and then an enema nozzle was inserted in my anus. She literally filled me up, the warm water doing all kinds of things to my body. I was then somewhat released and allowed to use the toilet. A follow up of some scented liquid, then the toilet again. I now smelled very feminine standing there. Very seldom does she release all of my restraints, her smirk as I plead to be let loose quite irritating to me.

Diapered after being drowned in baby powder and then secured for my trip to the store. Now instead of a long coat she uses a sheath dress that comes to my ankles. My arms are inside of the dress, the sleeves empty and hanging loose.

Once at the store I am undressed then positioned on the dais and secured. A corset is slipped over my body and loosely laced up. Through the laces the means for my attachment to my dais pole is fastened. Now she can tighten the corset to its fullest, but I will nor be leaving the dais till the store closes. The corset comes part way down my thighs, since walking is not an option for me. The top of the corset cradles my breasts that just lay in the cups of the corset.

My feet are slid into a higher pair of heels, my toes seemed to be pointed straight down. It did make standing there a little easier until she raised the pole I was attached to a few inches. Now my full weight was on the pole, the toes of the heels barely touching the dais, the heels almost hanging in the air.

She puts a lot more enthusiasm in my change of clothing than Ms. Parker did, slipping each outfit on while adjusting the fit of the item on my body. My nipples are rock hard all the time along with certain other bits of me. Even though no one can see the other hard on, you can take my word for it. I was getting used to the long hours though, my mind other places during my stint as her mannequin.

The first day of the mall promotion came and at the ungodly hour of seven A.M. I was wheeled into position a few stores from the food court. Here I was sure to be seen by everybody that walked the mall.

Barb would change my outfit every thirty minutes, wanting to be sure and impress as many shoppers as possible through the day. I am not sure I will ever get comfortable being naked in front of all of those people. Naked except for some panties and a skimpy little bra. The mall had arranged for a roped off area around each mannequin to keep the customers from poking and handling the clothes. In my case, to keep them from poking and handling me.

I did manage to make it through the entire day, although when I was taken back to the store and released from the dais I was so wobbly I could hardly stand. I was sent home with Barb, Ms. Parker telling me that she had the largest sales in her store’s history, all thanks to me.

I did get rewarded by Barb, as she let me sleep in bed with her. As I was lying there I couldn’t get comfortable, tossing and turning but still wide awake. Finally at three AM I woke her and asked her to put me on the dais and slip the hood over my head.

She did have quite a smirk on her face, knowing what she had ingrained in me had worked. It seemed only a few minutes after that was accomplished I was asleep, not remembering anything further till late the next day when the hood was removed.

I did graduate from school, but a year later I am still a mannequin for Ms. Parker, now earning fifteen dollars an hour. I was moved out of my apartment, Barb deciding I was to live with her. She tends to all of our finances, confident that we will soon have enough to afford our own home, a goal she is determined to accomplish.

Oh by the way, I have no male clothes left, Barb seeing to their destruction. Along with the loss of male clothes I also lost my male name. Barb in her infinite wisdom decided Quinntessa was to be my new moniker since I was working as a mannequin anyway. The name is proudly displayed on my right butt cheek, with the words property of Barb right below it.

A tattoo I am immensely proud of. Most nights I still sleep on the dais, secured there unless Barb needs me beside her in bed. The fondling, kissing and groping as she handles me during the day more than enough loving attention for me.

I guess that the life of a mannequin was so comfortable for me that is the only way I can proceed in life. With a loving handler, and a stern taskmaster combined in one I am sure I will be kept on the right path, a path to happiness and contentment as a mannequin.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Rose, Kick That Leg High

Well, it all started about eight months ago, I had been working in Vegas for a little over a month, a transplant from Southern Arizona. I came up here to try and further my career as a dancer. Of course, the chances of getting a job professionally are quite low, but dreams and ideals spur you on to keep trying. It makes it twice as hard when you are a male dancer. The majority of the dancers working in Vegas are female, buxom semi-naked females.

I auditioned at seven different casinos, each audition went well, but they had nothing to offer me. They would keep my audition tape and let me know if anything changed, the same spiel delivered at each audition. I knew then I would probably never hear from them. The shows I auditioned for had only one or two male dancers, so that made it even more unlikely I would ever be called.

In the meantime I was able to find a job at a dance studio, teaching young girls the basics. It allowed me to find an apartment and settle in for the long campaign to find something better. The apartment was basic, one bedroom, a living room with kitchen and a bathroom with shower only.

The dance studio was within walking distance of the apartment, otherwise I probably would not be able to work. I had a car, but it has seen its better days a few years ago, each trip into Vegas for an audition was done on a hope and a prayer.

I watched the newspapers every day looking for any opportunities to get my foot in the door. There was a local magazine for the entertainment industry that also had listings of new show castings and any open auditions. I missed very few chances to show off my abilities, but being male was more of a hindrance than I first thought. The casinos employ some male dancers but only as support dancers for the girls. Once employed with a casino there are few new male dancers added, the existing ones often used for any new shows.

Surprisingly my big break came about at my get by job as a dance instructor. One of the mothers coming to pick up her daughter was early and watched the end of my class. Her daughter was in her teens, quite talented and a good pupil.

I am a little unorthodox in my teaching methods, doing everything as a group, in a circle where each of us could see what the other was doing. We were doing a class on some numbers from a couple of the strip shows. I had all of the pupils in leotards, tights and heels. In fact, that was a requirement of the class, mastering heels of at least three inches. A lot of the young girls were so thrilled to be able to wear heels feeling that it made them so grown-up. Doing parts of the routines from the Vegas shows adding to that feeling.

To better show them the steps I was dressed in leggings, short shorts and my own four inch heels. I had done it for a class I taught in Phoenix, a part time job that I enjoyed, in fact the owner of that dance studio gave me a very nice letter of reference when I left to head to Vegas. I was sure that most anybody else looking at me would consider me a very gay guy, but I found it much easier to show the girls what I wanted if I am dressed and dancing just like them. The first class, when they got a look at me, there were giggles, then I did a routine including some high kicks, and I never received another giggle after that.

The lady after watching the end of the class, approached her daughter and had her introduce me. Her daughter looked a lot like her mother, tall and slender, a definite dancer’s physique. Ms. Crockett was personable and focused. I shook her hands, as she complimented me on my teaching methods. We talked a little about her daughter, her strengths and where she needed to improve the most.

“Would you be interested in a job dancing? If so here is my card, come to the casino at eight AM tomorrow morning and we can talk.”

She was all business, never waiting for my reply. I wanted to scream at her sure, I would love a job dancing, but never got the opportunity. She had already taken her daughter, as they slipped out of the studio. I had another class right after this one so I put the card in the pocket of my shorts and busied myself getting things ready for the next class.

It was about three hours later when I had a chance to look at the card again. She was a producer of one of the Vegas shows, the casino was new to the strip but a lot of people were talking about it already. I doubted if anything would come of the offer to dance, I had several instances in the past where people offered me a chance at something, but it turned out to be just an attempt to get a discount on their daughter’s lessons. I was sure that is the case here too. I will make the effort though, any chance though slim is worth taking.

I dressed fairly conventional, not wanting to inspire the gay thing to take hold. I did however take some leggings with me and two pair of heels. While my feet were not unusually large, I did require a ladies size ten heel, not the most standard shoe for stores to stock.

I was early, getting there at a little past seven-thirty and shown to the theater. Ms. Crockett was working with some dancers on stage, so I went down to one of the first tables in front of the stage and sat and watched. The girls were tired, they probably danced last night and then had to get up extra early to work on their routine. Ms. Crockett was very good, but didn’t have much if any patience. I could see she was getting frustrated, so in an attempt to make points with her, I asked if I could work with them for a few minutes.

She turned around to stare at me, then smiled. She made her way down from the stage, showed me a video of the routine she wanted them to master and then told me I had an hour.

“Where can I change?”

“Backstage to the right, second door in.” I grabbed my backpack and went backstage. I smiled when I saw the door she had alluded to was a female dressing room. I entered and quickly changed into my leggings, shorts and heels. I went back on stage, introduced myself and asked their names.

All the time the girls were trying to stop from giggling, though I didn’t pay them any attention. I started the music and asked them to do the routine. They hesitated, wondering who this new person is ordering them around. I asked them again, for me to help them I have to see what they are capable of.

One of the girls, suggested that I show them how it is done, so they can see how it should be done properly. I waited till the music started again and went into the routine. It was a standard routine done to music of the fifties, though in this case it was a little different arrangement musically. I noticed open mouths when I glanced in their direction, but kept doing the routine. When I finished I looked in their direction.

“Now it is your turn.” They immediately started and I did the routine with them, but facing them instead of alongside. The third time we went through the routine I could see improvement.

When the hour was up Ms. Crockett came back onstage, complimented the girls on doing better then sent them off. She took my hand and led me to an office in the back of the casino’s theater. Pointed to a seat and then got behind the desk. “Could you do what you did this morning for a job six days a week?” I smiled and nodded yes. “Then you are hired, when can you start?”

I asked when she wanted me to start work, “I will give notice at the dance studio, but those classes are afternoon and evening I could probably do both until my other employer could find somebody.” That seemed fine with her.

Since the last show is at midnight the dancers are finished around two, then usually eat at the casino before going home. I had suggested to them, a few weeks earlier that we rehearse new routines in the early morning, then they would have the rest of the day off. That seemed to meet with everybody’s approval. “Is five AM too early for you, it would give them time to eat, relax some and change into their workout clothes?”

“No that would be fine with me, what do you want me to teach them? I haven’t seen the show yet, so I don’t know all the routines yet, maybe if you have videos of those that I can look at that will help a lot.”

“I have got a better idea, come to the show tonight as my guest and you can see it firsthand. The midnight show would be best, so come to the theater entrance and give them your name and you will be shown to my table. Dress is casual, heels are allowed if you want to wear them. There was a smirk as she said that, and a small giggle escaped the corners of her mouth. No rehearsal tonight I would like to talk to you in depth. That we will do after you see the show. Then tomorrow night you can start with the dancers.”

“That will be fine, I will be here later.” I left the theater and went back home. Half way there I realized I had forgot to ask what my pay would be, not too smart on my part, but any chance to get ahead I guess is worth taking. I ate some lunch, took a short nap and then headed to my dance class job. Melanie the owner was sorry to lose me, but thrilled that I had landed a better job.

“I have another dancer that needs part-time employment and she would use them to take over my classes. So just work today and then you can leave. If it changes later, please come back, I like having you work here and the students adore you.”

I made it through the classes, but didn’t announce to the class that I was leaving. I did notice that Ms. Crockett’s daughter was not there, I will most likely be teaching her too. After the classes I went back home, showered and tried to find something appropriate to wear. I did consider wearing the heels, but chickened out when I thought that it might reflect back negatively on my new boss.

I headed over to the casino, still very early for the meeting. I played some slots for a while, actually winning some money. I decided to take my winnings and see the first show, that way I would be better prepared to discuss it with Ms. Crockett. It was a fairly good show, I could see the timing was off in a couple of spots and a few of the girls were having difficulty with their execution. I made notes on who the girls were, I would work with them the most.

I was surprised when a very feminine hand grasped my shoulder, I looked up and saw a smiling Ms. Crockett. She insisted on me joining her at her table, took my hand and led me away. Her only comment when we were seated at her table was where are your heels? I tried to ignore her, hoping she would not further the questioning about my heels.

I continued to watch the show still making my notes. There were five male dancers in the show, mainly in a supporting role. One of them was very talented, but his timing was probably the worst of all the dancers. The others were just so-so. I noticed her looking at my notes, then smiling. I presume she agreed with most of my evaluations.

When the show concluded she dragged me to the five star restaurant on the top floor of the casino. I tried to beg off, but she insisted on me eating dinner with her. After being greeted, we were led to a table over in the corner, and the Maitre’D held her chair for her.

It was then as I seated myself that I noticed the sign on the table that this table is reserved for Ms. Crockett. I suddenly had new respect for her, I don’t think her being a producer of the show, would guarantee her a private table at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.

She ordered for me, I was a little put out that she did, but after hearing what she ordered for me I backed down. It was their salad supreme, two kinds of lettuce, tomato, onions, celery, bell pepper, olives, cucumbers, chicken, steak, and homemade wheat rolls. When the waiter brought it to the table my mouth was open in surprise. The bowl it was in was almost a foot across, then he set down the tray of dressings, fifteen different bowls of dressings, all with organic spices evident in their individual bowls.

We ate quietly for a while, she had ordered a delightful wine that went with the salads making the dinner quite enjoyable. I could only eat part of it so he put the rest in a takeout box for me. The fanciest restaurant in town and I had a doggy bag to take home.

After the dishes were cleared away we talked about the show, the dancers and her thoughts on another show she was working on. It turned out she was a part owner in the casino, thus her reserved table and other amenities appropriate for an owner.

After she had covered her wishes and desires she asked my opinion on things, she wanted the truth, not something I was sugar coating to make her feel better. So I swallowed hard and laid it out for her. I would replace at least ten of her dancers right away, then all of the male dancers. To replace the male dancers I would hire female dancers and dress them in bodysuits and tux jackets, but no pants, making a much more pleasant sight on the stage. I listed the dancers I would replace, her agreeing on all of them quickly. If some of the dancers improved enough to keep them that would be a plus, but replacing the male dancers with females should be done anyway.

I asked about the new show, when did she intend to launch it, if it was to be fairly soon, I suggested we not make any changes to this show other than the replacement of dancers but work on the new show to get in the extra work needed to make it a success. She pulled a tablet out of her purse, found a file and then played it. She had bought the show, when it was being performed in Atlantic City, they were going to switch to something else, so she bought all the rights for it, including the name.

I watched it for a while, then told her my opinion. “It is a fine show but it will take a lot of finesse to pull it off, the routines depend on accurate timing, and the skill of the dancers will have to be top notch. Of the girls you now have I would say that only three would be able to master it. I might be wrong here, but need to spend some more time with them before any hard decisions are made. There is nobody qualified to be the lead dancer in your present batch of employees, so a lot of dancers will have to be found and trained.”

“Well I think I have found my person to handle this, so whenever you are ready let’s get the ball rolling. Since you never asked about pay, I presume you are willing to work for free, I appreciate that concession, it will make keeping to my budget much easier.” She stared at me for the longest time, the expression on my face finally making her break out in a giggling fit.

I did not know how to bring it up, so I didn’t hoping that she was just kidding. We adjourned to her office where she had me fill out an application, then the proper forms for the government. Like I said before she is all business, never missing anything and focused to the max on what she wants and how to get it.

I do hope I can satisfy her, I might have bitten off more than I can handle in this case. I imagine she is a perfectionist, the way she was working with the girls when I showed up that morning alluded to that fact. Her lack of emotional control confused the girls, as she sent mixed messages about their performance and what she wanted from then, her frustration the end result. I hope my perseverance and teaching by doing will allow the girls to improve enough to satisfy her, thus insuring my continued employment.

She asked where I lived and what kind of transportation I had available to use. I was reluctant to say much, any details likely to make me look rather pathetic.

“I have an apartment in Henderson, the only place I can afford. My car is well past its prime, I have no idea how long I can depend on it to get me where I want to go.”

“How about you staying here in the hotel, a suite and your meals furnished at the restaurant attached to the theater. It is open for lunch and dinner, you meals would be free. If you tire of it you can eat at any of the other restaurants in Vegas, but I think our quality will be sufficient for you most of the time. She pushed the contract over in my direction and I read it thoroughly. It wasn’t that I had trouble with it, it was because I couldn’t believe how favorable it was for me.

It had the clause about the room and the meals, also a weekly salary of thirteen hundred dollars, plus free medical and a small percentage of the gross of the new show. My only response. “Are you sure, this is very generous?”

“Yep I am sure. I intend to get my money’s worth from you and more, so do not worry about the rate of pay and benefits. There is one other thing I want you to include my daughter in any practice sessions when she is not being tutored. I feel she has potential, but needs the discipline more than the extra training.

I will leave her in your capable hands, incidentally for what it is worth, she admires you and looks up to you for leadership and guidance.” I blushed red at that statement, seldom have I ever received a compliment that nice.

I signed the forms and she made me copies for my files. She would be with me the day after tomorrow to introduce me to the rest of the dancers, and tell them I am in charge now. Thank you for hiring me, I will try my hardest to please you. I got a hug, you have already pleased me, so just be yourself and we will get along fine.

I told her I wanted to run an ad for new dancers, an audition required before consideration. She gave me the particulars for the paper and the entertainment magazine and told me to handle it myself. I also asked if I could use the theater to dance through some of the new routines, a sort of feeling it out and also some practice doing them. She handed me a key and told me what door to enter from.

She reached into her purse and retrieved a key card for my new residence. She would handle the restaurant for me, informing them of the meal arrangement. With her already having a key card for the room with her, I presume she figured I might accept her offer.

As I headed back home I pinched myself several times. It is all too good to be true, fearing any minute the dream will end, and reality will rear its ugly head. I made several decisions that night as I lay awake trying to figure out how this will play out. Other than my clothes I decided I would bring nothing from the apartment in Henderson. Maybe I can find somebody to buy what few meager possessions that I have. After I get everything to the hotel I decided to sell my car. It was on its last leg, in fact I just hoped it would make the few remaining trips to get me and my clothing up there.

The car did manage to get me to and fro as I moved my few things to the hotel. Then on the last trip, a block from the hotel the rear axle of the car broke, rendering the car unusable. Luckily I had managed to get it off the road before it coasted to a stop. I had to make three trips, by foot, to get my last few belongings to my room. Luckily I was able to arrange for a salvage yard to haul the car off, in lieu of paying them, their intention was to sell it for scrap metal.

The room she had arranged for me was super nice, a one bedroom with a nice bath, a living room and a patio that over looked the strip. It was on the third floor, paying guests preferred the floors above because of the view. She arranged for a table for me in the restaurant, in their slacker times, with anything they had in the menu for me to choose from. I rested the first day, but later that night I attended the show again, wanting to see what I had to do to get by, while I worked on the new show and replaced dancers if I could find some good enough.

My first early morning on the job, introductions were made, and I made my presence known quickly. Unbeknownst to me she introduced me to the dancers as Rose. I had no idea where she came up with that name, it was alright though, it doesn’t matter what they call me just that they learn and do as I instructed.

I showed each dancer their faults, what they were doing wrong, and how to correct it. We ran through the present show three times, they were tired, but most of the faults had been corrected. I had upgraded two more of the girls to keepers, they just needed someone to work with them. I didn’t play any favorites, the male dancers got both barrels too, one tried to make the extra effort, the others resented me and made no effort to correct their faults.

That afternoon I had my first auditions, the word of mouth already spreading through Vegas. I auditioned three females, two I hired for sure, the other a might be, but she would require more coaching than the others. By the next morning, word had spread to the present dancers their attitude much improved. The four males made no improvement, tomorrow after the show I will let them go. The two new gals could fill in, and I had two of the other girls not on the stage at the same time, so that would be the four that I needed. I had acquired the cute tuxes that the females would wear already, so I would be ready anytime. Good thing I did, three out of the four male dancers knew they were going to be let go, calling that afternoon to quit.

I made changes to the number, but I had to have at least three to match up with the female dancers. The two girls presently employed loved the idea, tried on their costumes and were ready for tonight. I talked with the one male dancer telling him what I had done, asking him if he wanted to try the costume or just quit. If he quit I would give him one week’s severance to ease the pain. He had another offer for a job and decided to take it, I shook his hands and he left. I decided to fill in for the last dancer, hopefully the salon that Ms. Crockett used would be able to make me look less masculine. A total female look was not necessary, but smooth clean legs and a slight female figure would be essential. Maybe a high ponytail and lipstick would be the only other things I needed.

Of course, Ms. Crockett heard what was going on and came to see me. I told her how I had changed that portion of the show, now using three dancers and the short cute tux costumes. She giggled, telling me to head over to the salon now, she would call them and arrange for my changes.

I needed to think things through again, I think I had everything covered but was not sure so I walked the three blocks to the salon. I might end up taking a cab back depending on how feminine I turn out.

Indeed they were waiting for me, two of their techs moved me swiftly to one of the treatment rooms. I was helped to get out of my clothes, then laid on a table. Quickly the two of them waxed me, a Brazilian no less. I regularly shaved my legs, wearing heels and shorts with hairy legs is just so gross.

I several times tried to get them to change their agenda, but was repeatedly told they were just doing what Ms. Crockett wanted done. The pain I could handle, at least when they were working on my arms and legs. Around the groin that was another matter entirely. More than once I tried to bite through the towel they had given me to curb any vocalizations.

As soon as the waxing concluded, the two worked on my breasts, or lack of, gluing on some very realistic breast forms covering the seams with some putty like makeup. I thought they were too large for just a back-up dancer but then again it was apparently what Ms. Crockett desired. As I was checking out my new breast enhancements, a fake pussy was glued over my male appendage and blended in with the makeup. My male member glued up in my groin, unable to show himself any more. The lips of the vagina were very realistic looking, I am sure no one would ever realize my true sex. There again the costume not really requiring a female camel toe, but that seemed to be ignored by everybody.

The other tech was giving me nail extensions, way too long in my opinion, but again that was what they were told to apply. The red polish was a gel polish, set with UV light, I knew it would be a while before I would be able to remove it, without a lot of difficulty and lots of acetone.

Moved to a hair styling station, shampooed and conditioned then curlers and an hour under a warm dryer. I was sure they had used some setting gel, put on before the curlers were applied and right after the last one was secured to my head. I was beginning to smell a rat, but the show had to have the third dancer, I had volunteered, and it was getting late. As the curlers were removed a light coat of makeup was applied and after some teasing of the curls into an up do, the only thing missing was my top hat and tux.

Surprise, surprise in walks Ms. Crockett with my costume and hat. You have never seen a bigger smile on a female than hers at that moment. I was appraised as she carefully scanned my body, I presume to make sure that all she had asked them to do to me was accomplished. There was definitely no male left. In the costume I looked at my image, especially my legs, for they were a female’s legs, the sheer pantyhose glistening in any light.

She took me back to the casino, and directly to the theater. The other dancers were getting dressed and as I appeared I was mobbed. They also had to see what all had been done to me, not content for just a look see, but wanted all the details, including a quick peek at my essentials. I got several giggles when they saw my vagina, I was told I could use the ladies lounge now, since I was no longer male down below, but a female like them.

The show did go off without a hitch, much better than any of the previous ones that I had been involved with. After the last curtain call I was asked to come to Ms. Crockett’s table, my male clothes in my room and at the salon, so I put a smile on my face and went out to see her dressed as I was. She had two guests at her table, both entertainment critics for newspapers. One for the LA Times and one for the Las Vegas Sun. This was not good, the show can use the publicity, but I preferred to be a side liner, not singled out.

I was interviewed about my job with the show, then why I had stepped in tonight to fill in for one of the dancers. The LA critic wanted to know my background in dancing, where I had trained and went to school. They asked a little about the new show, both of them familiar with it, having seen it when it opened back east. Since they were talking mainly to Ms. Crockett now I asked to be excused and went back to the dressing rooms. The girls had changed, getting ready to get some nourishment. I was manhandled and soon was accompanying them to the restaurant. They had found a dress I could borrow for tonight, happy to see me in the female roll. The girls complimented me on my appearance quite often, wanting to know if I was going to stay this way.

That is a good question, not even sure myself on the answer to that one. I had an idea that Ms. Crockett had some other plans that had not been run by me, so I remained silent on that question. We had a good time, talking way into the night. In Vegas that is not a problem, most everything open all hours of the day and night. I made it back to my room early the next day, the practice had been canceled since everyone had danced so well. Tomorrow night though it would be back in place, a lot to learn about the new show.

I had changed my mind about a couple more of the dancers, their attitude recently and performance had improved considerably. After a short nap, I went back to the theater, three more dancers came in for an audition, only one of them worth hiring. I thanked them and told them I would get back to them if anything changed. That exact same line had been delivered to me many times over the last year.

I used the quiet time to go over a couple of the routines for the new show. I had only the stage lights on, so the audience area was dark. After I finished, I gathered my things and was getting ready to leave when I heard Ms. Crockett clapping. She walked on stage with a couple of newspapers in her hands.

“How many times have you rehearsed that particular routine?”

“That is my second time, it still needs a lot of work though. What brings you here this morning?”

“Well I came by to show you the write-ups on the show and you. Quite favorable by the way, one critic calling you the next star on the strip. Everybody agreeing that this show has turned completely around since you came here.”

“It is just one person’s opinion, I prefer the public buying tickets to the show as an indicator of how well I am doing. Steady sales, but no surge at the box office yet. Anyway I am behind the scenes here, just trying to get the dancers to do their routine well. I only filled in on stage to keep the show going.”

She smiled and then left me to close up and turn off the stage lights. I made my way to my room carrying the newspapers she had brought me. I laid them on a table by the door, not really interested in what they said. I undressed, took a shower, and then slid on a large t-shirt to spend the rest of the afternoon in. My new female figure was prominent, my t-shirt showing the new breasts to their best advantage. I was trying to stay focused, but the changes made to my body made it difficult. The lack of something between my upper thighs very noticeable for me.

I ended up taking a nap, my new assets requiring some changes to my sleeping habits, primarily the large breasts that were now always in the way. Then after a late lunch I made my way back to the theater to dance through a couple of the routines for the new show. By the time I had been through them several times it was time to get dressed for the show tonight. I managed my own makeup, the other girls amazed at my ability. On the stage it went well, even better than last night.

I was shanghaied again for dinner with them, we talked and talked about everything and anything. We left in time to get back to the theater and run through several of the new routines for the new show. The girls made me dance the lead part, the least I could do in their opinion. I danced it but facing them so that I could check out their performance. I was happy, now most everyone quite capable of mastering the routines. The timing was still off a little, but that is not unusual at this stage. When I called for a halt today I was mobbed. I got hugs and cheek kisses as they gathered their things and headed home. I made the rounds to shut everything down.

As I got to the door Ms. Crockett was there waiting for me. She grabbed my hand and led me away. I was led to the restaurant, and then to her table. A few minutes later a breakfast was served to us. I really wasn’t hungry, but she stared at me until I took a few bites. It was good, probably the best breakfast I have ever had. When we had finished and the plates cleared away she grabbed one of my hands and started her conversation. For her to get someone to open the restaurant this early and cook, it must of have been important to her. I could see the sun emerging from a storm front out the window, otherwise it was quiet and peaceful, a rarity for Vegas.

“Rose, I am extremely happy with your work so far, the girls adore you and do everything they can to please you. Last night before the show while you were getting ready they approached me and asked me to get you to accept the lead role in the new show. Every girl was there, and they were adamant in their request. They would do anything for you, but feel you are the only one to headline the show. I happen to agree and so does everybody I have met and asked advice of. The L. A. critic in particular feels that with you headlining the show we will soon be the most popular show on the strip.”

“For now I want you to plan on being the headliner in the show, you can continue to look for someone else, but plan on doing it yourself until we find someone. That means you need some further feminizing, just in case. I also suggest that you start living as a female, the practice will only help you perform the part more realistically.

I know I am asking a lot of you, so I’ve decided to make you a part owner in the show. I will also pay for a complete female wardrobe for you. To hopefully cinch the deal I will double your current wage. I know there will be a lot of work to get the show ready, especially if you dance the lead. Please think about it today, and let me know before the show tonight. I hope you will find a way to accept, you have done so much already, the future looks good with you starring in the show, I hate to think what it will be like if you decline.”

I stood there speechless, I did get a hug before she headed off, but that was it. Thinking about it for a minute she probably did not want to hang around and give me a chance to turn her down. Leave and make me think about it a much better idea. It was at least fifteen minutes before I regained enough awareness to slowly head back to my room. I managed to get there, but was not aware of the how and when of the trip.

Entering my room, I slipped off the heels and headed for the bedroom. I slipped out of my clothes, and padded to the bathroom, getting my bath started. Lots of bath salts, a few candles lit around the tub, anything at all to help relax me and let me think straight. Well as straight as a male that works as a dance instructor and wears heels. Then we have my female figure, long nails and feminine hairstyle to add to the image. I realized that wearing the heels is what got me in this mess to start with.

The mess was not all bad, my room at the hotel, free meals and a generous salary to boot. Since I had nothing before, this was a significant upgrade. Progress meant living as a female and dancing a lead in a prominent Las Vegas Show. Some notoriety was inevitable, no matter what I did, but at what price to me. If my true sex comes out some, I am sure to be ridiculed, maybe even humiliated, depending on who outs me.

I finally decided to talk to her tonight, I had a lot of concerns both for me and her if I accepted the deal. I managed a short nap, before I went back to the theater to get ready for tonight’s show.

The old adage the show must go on is so true. I saw her checking to see if I was here getting ready for the show, a smile coming to her face when she saw me applying makeup. She went out to her table, to watch the show. The gals were enthused tonight, bouncing all over the place. We only had a few moments till the first show, so I didn’t have time to ascertain what was going on.

The show went off without a hitch, everybody’s timing was perfect, even my trained eye could find no fault in their execution of the numbers. I went out to her table during the break between the first and second show, wanting to resolve this one way or the other. I realized if I turned her down, I would most likely be unemployed in a few days if not sooner. I set down at her table, my hose making a swishing noise as I slid onto the chair.

I didn’t wait for her to say the first words, I wanted all of my concerns out there before she could ruin my train of thought. “What do I do if I am found out? It will ruin me and bring disgrace to the show. I am still not sure I can pull this off, dancing the lead is a big part and will take all of my concentration to be able to do it as it should be. Are you really sure about this? No matter what you offer me in money, if I fail it will hurt you both personally and financially. Since you have been so nice to me I especially don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Instead of arguing on whether you can pull this off, let’s take a two week trial period, with you living as a female 24/7 and dancing in this show and headlining the new show for two Sunday performances. The first Sunday just for me and the second Sunday for all of my friends. I have a few friends and contacts that want to see the show, so a one night performance would be ideal. That way we can see if you like it, and if you are capable of doing it. If all goes well you take my deal and get on with life. If you falter we will seek some other solution.”

“Meanwhile I will work on covering your tracks up, making Rose real and with a history. As far as the girls go, we will let a rumor leak out that you have always been female, just acted butch and masculine for a previous lover. None of the girls have seen you naked in male mode so I doubt there will be any hesitation in accepting that premise. The techs at the salon are the only ones to know your true sex, a little well spent money will handle that. As part of my investments here in Vegas I also own a portion of the salon so keeping your secret will not be a problem.

I want you to go ahead and finish the transformation to female, as far as possible, dressing as a female from now on. That will only make this so much easier to adjust to.”

I sighed and accepted her proposition. I still had lots of concerns, but a trial period would maybe be the best way to see if I can handle the switch and being the star of the show. I spent all my free time dancing the lead role, making sure I was performing it to the best of my ability. I was in the theater during the afternoon, right up until time to get ready for the first show.

Then there was the salon changes she scheduled for me. Several days were set aside for me to be transformed using the latest and most advanced methods to make sure my looks were one hundred percent female. Some fat was moved around on my body to a more feminine location, my breast forms were replaced with tissue sucked from my body, and appropriate for a star of the show.

Let’s just put it this way, after a show the first thing I put on was a bra, these puppies needed all the support I could give them, otherwise they physically hurt. My body hair was removed permanently, and my eyebrows became blank spaces on my forehead. There was no more they could do to make me more feminine, junior was glued away already, although he did receive an upgrade in his covering. Other than a doctor I doubt anyone could detect I was not a cis gender female.

Ms. Crockett did erase my past, even my school records were changed to female. Since neither of my parents were still alive, a new set of parents were issued with me as their only daughter. So now I had a new birth certificate and state ID, no driver’s license since she insisted I would never drive a car in the future. Who am I to argue with her? As it stands now I never leave the hotel, everything I need is right here at my fingertips, well there is the salon, but the hotel limo delivers me and picks me up. Other than the theater, my room is a favorite spot for me to enjoy several hours every chance I get.

The girls in an effort to make sure there was no back sliding on my part managed to get into my room and hauled off all of my male clothes. They did a thorough job, not a stitch of anything masculine remained in my room. I am sure they had help, a certain employer of mine had to furnish access to my room. I was surprised but not upset, I needed the practice of interacting as a female anyway. They even set up a blind date for me, luckily they went along with their dates to make sure the two of us behaved.

I think I handled myself admirably for a new female, I did receive a kiss on the cheek at the conclusion of the date and a request for another date later. I told him I would think about it, but right now I was so involved in the show it would have to be a no.

Time was slipping by quicker than I imagined, only a few days to the first performance of the new show. Supposedly it was to be only in front of Ms. Crockett, but I doubted she would be the only one to attend the unveiling of the new show. The girls were excited, they had worked hard to learn the routines, attending many extra rehearsals to try and get it right. I was proud of them, when we started the first dance of the new show I swelled up with pride, my girls were doing a fantastic job, so far not a missed cue or even a stumble.

The costumes were magnificent, Ms. Crockett having special costumes made just for the show. As per a normal Vegas show they were extremely brief, mine in particular. Most of my new enhanced figure was on display, a stocking or a brief piece of lingerie the only thing between my skin and the audience. As per usual the stage lights were on, but no lights in the audience area. I sensed more than just a few people in the audience, but had no way to confirm my suspicions. The show went off without a hitch, everybody performing to perfection. As the last stage light faded out and the audience lights came up I realized we had performed the show to a packed audience. The girls and I made our way backstage, the last routines rather energetic and leaving us all short of breath.

Ms. Crockett’s daughter the first to get to me, flying across the stage and landing in my embrace. She was soon joined by her Mom and several other people, the few that I recognized were the other owners of the casino. I was complimented on my work and leadership, and then they allowed me and the girls to put on some clothes so we were not as naked as when on stage.

After we had changed we were led to the restaurant, where they had set up a full buffet for everyone. Usually a dancer has quite an appetite, so the buffet was indeed welcome. We relaxed, feeding our faces and unwinding a little. I was told that the press was in attendance for the show, many thousands of pictures taken, a lot of them to be in the papers the next day.

Eventually everyone wondered off, the girls wanting to catch some sleep, they had been so excited to actually dance the routines on stage that the excitement had them hyper all day. Now that was fading away, sleep for a few hours to be most welcome. Ms. Crockett had me stay for a few more minutes, wanting me to know what was coming in the next few days. I already had an idea of what she was going to say, but the degree she was considering is way beyond anything I could fathom.

Full page ads in the Las Vegas, Los Angeles and the San Francisco papers. Then smaller ads in the Phoenix, Reno, Sacramento and the Salt Lake papers. The critics from all of those papers were in attendance tonight guaranteeing a review of the show also to be in those same papers. They anticipated being sold out shortly, once word spread about the show.

This was all due to my dancing and handling of the show. To make sure I was happy, I would be offered several amenities not offered before, including a suite at the hotel on the top floor of the establishment. Once I got everyone settled into the new show, she wanted me to see a show she was thinking about buying for later in the year. This one was more elaborate, the costumes more impressive and the nudity more adventuresome.

She walked me to my room, hugged me closely and then kissed me fully on the lips. As she closed the door behind her I was lost in thought and lust. We had worked closely together, but never anything romantic between us. The girls constantly kidded me about being perfect for Ms. Crockett but I never took them seriously.

Maybe they were right. I knew she was single, her significant other dying in the Middle East many years ago. I never intruded in her personal life, I had so much to handle myself, deciding to concentrate on my own affairs. Apparently she has some other things in mind, none of what I can visualize I would object to. She is a beautiful woman, personable and fun to be around. Her daughter is a jewel, much like her Mother, sweet and caring.

As soon as I laid down on the couch I was instantly out of it, not waking till much later that day. Ms. Crockett had been to my room, leaving the papers and their reviews on my kitchen table. She also left me some breakfast, asking me to join her as soon as I was dressed and mobile.

I glanced at the reviews all favorable, the ads that they had run quite surprising. The main image was me in my finery, doing one of the high leg kicks, a part of the last number in the new show. I took the time to take a bath, soaking in the scented water letting all my worries fade away. A recently acquired habit that I had enthusiastically embraced. I put on some clothes then made my to Ms. Crockett’s room. Janey, her daughter, greeted me hugging me and kissing my cheek. I was dragged to their balcony where I got the same treatment from her Mother.

Janey left to get me some lunch, since it was already nearly two in the afternoon. I was informed that the new show was sold out for over a year, every performance and even a waiting list for any cancellations. They had taken a chance and raised ticket prices, not one complaint from anybody trying to get tickets for the new show.

Then Ms. Crockett, asked to be called Heather and suddenly got very serious. All this time and I never learned her first name, she was always just Ms. Crockett. Heather took my hand and held it with both of hers, then somehow slid a ring on my finger. I looked at what she was doing, then gasped at the size of the stone in the ring. She took one of her hands and raised my chin till I was looking directly into her eyes. Please Rose marry me and make me the happiest woman on this planet. I didn’t even hesitate as I leaned in and whispered yes, then attacked her lips and mouth trying to show her how much I wanted this.

The moment went on and on, you can’t put a limit on the showing of affection between two soul mates. And to think that all started with me in heels kicking that leg high. Destiny maybe, but whatever it was it is so right. Along with starring in a sold out show, I have a wedding to look forward to. Things just can’t get any better or can they? Time will tell, so I will just keep kicking that leg high eagerly awaiting the next event in my future.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Sissykins, A Perfect Sissy

Susie had called me just before quitting time. I could tell she was excited, her words rapidly flowing out of her mouth, her speech slightly slurred. She wanted me to meet her at our favorite restaurant for dinner, her treat. That in itself was unusual, her job as a stylist for one of the salons in town paid well, but the restaurant we liked was very much on the expensive side. I told her I could be there at five-thirty, a little over an hour from now. I smiled, it is not often my wife gets excited about anything, whatever this is she is totally wound up.

I finished up my work, put things away and headed out. It was about a thirty minute drive to our favorite eatery, the whole trip spent wondering what has happened to make her so jubilant. As I parked she was walking back and forth in front of the place looking for my car.

Wow, this news must be awesome for her to get this wrapped up in it. As soon as I parked she was at my car door dragging my body out. Then as she leaned forward she planted an erotic kiss on my lips while squeezing my ass.

No complaints from me, but it did make me wonder what her news is. Well wonder is not nearly strong enough, concerned might be a better choice of words. I headed towards the door as she was glued to my side making walking a little difficult.

We were seated right away, since she had called ahead and made reservations. A private booth in one of their alcoves no less. Now I was more than intrigued, this was costing her a bundle, the private booth even too expensive for me to use, when I made reservations for us on occasion.

Then to add to the mystery our drinks were brought to us right away, along with an appetizer. She had apparently ordered ahead since we never were offered a menu. I stared at her, trying to get her to spill the beans, I couldn’t even think of anything that could have happened to cause this much excitement for her. All I got was a smirk from her, now she was purposefully denying me the reason for her being so happy.

A favorite game of hers when she could manage to pull it off. I asked key questions to try and get some useful information from her, but alas she was on top of her game, vaguely answering my questions but not a hint of what was behind all of this.

I finally gave up, knowing I would not find out anything until she was ready to divulge it. The meal was delicious, everything I loved to eat and never allowed myself to order mainly because of the cost. After we had finished eating the check was brought out. I watched closely as she took a look at it, then reached into her purse and pulled out a platinum Am. Express card.

She signed the ticket leaving a tip on it that was quite substantial. The waiter brought her a copy of the bill then closed the curtain around the booth allowing us some privacy. She scooted up right next to me, taking my hand in hers and delivering another toe curling kiss. I was told to remain quiet until she had explained everything, then I will be allowed a question or two. Another erotic kiss and she started in.

Her boss Francine, the owner of the salons came in today and took her out to lunch. Since I was booked up solid another stylist had to take a couple of my customers to free me up. She is building another salon in town a branch of her Turnabout Gurl Salons, the one I am presently employed at.

“I was offered the position of general manager of the new salon, to finish setting it up and hire the necessary staff to run it. I am also responsible for the advertising for the new salon, doing whatever is necessary to make it successful. We talked for over three hours with her giving me some hints on what she envisions for the new salon and how she would like to see it developed.”

“I was reluctant to take the job, since it seemed way above what I could handle. We talked some more while she asked me how I would develop the concept if it was up to me. My mind came up with several ideas, not having a clue where they came from. After I finished telling her my ideas, she reached over and hugged me, telling me I start tomorrow.

Before I could say anymore I was handed a sheet with my name on the top, with a salary figure that blew my mind, a long list of benefits and attached to the sheet the American Express card I used tonight. I was given the address of the new salon, with her telling me that it would be ready to accept customers in ten days.”

I was told to take you out to dinner tonight, wining and dining you. Keep in mind that maybe he could fill an essential part in the development of the new salon. Maybe an example of what the new salon could do for its customers. I have been thinking about it all day, and you know she is right.

A perfect spot for you, my beloved close to me where I can indulge in some kissing and groping when I desire it. But even better a perfect example of what is possible at the salon. Best of all it is where I can take care of you, seeing to your every need in the days to come.

Now the part you might be reluctant to participate in. The name of the new salon is Turnabout Sissies, where all of the cute sissies come to get sissified and find dreamy clothes to wear. We do everything from changing their apparent gender, to providing the cute dresses a sissy needs to wear. That includes makeup, a cute sissy hairstyle, long elegant nails and many other feminine treatments.

You will be ideal as the perfect sissy, one that prospective customers can look at and see how there own sissy might look after their transformation. No work involved, just allow us to transform you into the perfect sissy, then just be available to be seen when customers arrive.

I scooted away from her wanting to put a little more distance between us till I could figure out exactly what my part in this would entail. She was not to be deterred, following me closely with me now pinned up against the end of the booth. She leaned in and unleashed the big guns, the kiss that I then experienced causing a great turmoil within my body. I wanted to let go and enjoy the kiss, even junior had risen to the occasion, but alarm bells were going off.

I doubted if I let my guard down I would be long for the masculine gender. Her hand found my erection and worked its magic, causing a few low moans to escape my lips. Another kiss and I had a hard time remembering my name, much less anything else.

The assault on my senses continued for quite some time, with me finally giving in some and allowing her to try her idea on me. I was sure I would look ridiculous, so one look at the finished product and she will have to make other plans. There was some doubt though,

I am far from being classified as a he man, a life behind a desk not much for developing a male physique. At one hundred and thirty pounds and a little over five foot six, my real claim to be male resided with having a substantial male organ. Well, I thought it was substantial. One that my wife adored and took advantage of extensively.

I had mistakenly let my hair grow longer than normal, a fact that might make my transformation easier for her. Too late to do anything about the length now.

She continued her assault, with me twisting and turning trying to keep from coming right there in the restaurant. She sensed how close I was, kissing me hard, her tongue in my mouth almost to my throat. It did muffle my vocal outburst, while I deposited quite a load of goo in my underwear.

Then just like nothing happened, she slid out of the booth and dragged me along. Right through the crowded restaurant, my face so red, with my one hand trying to cover up my groin some. I am sure there was quite a wet spot there, the thin pants I wore today not doing anything to hide the problem.

Once outside I looked down at my groin, seeing a huge wet spot, with trails of wetness down both pant legs. I was already bright red, so there was no further enhancement possible in the humiliation department. Suzie’s remark about me wearing diapers in the future not of any help.

She had me leave my car at the restaurant, she would have someone retrieve it tomorrow. I was helped into her car having to sit on a towel so as to not get the seat wet. She headed off looking my way often. To make matters worse she did not drive towards home, but to the new salon.

I pleaded with her, but sitting in a puddle of your own cum not very much of a confidence builder. Arriving at the salon I was impressed at the size of the place, meanwhile she was leading me in and back to one of the rooms at the rear of the salon. I was quickly assisted in losing my clothes, the soiled pants and underwear put in a garbage bag.

Now naked I was helped up onto a table and secured there, arms and legs in restraints at the side and end of the table. I was in a daze watching what she was doing, but did not utter a peep, content to just watch and hope for the best.

Protesting was now an afterthought, since I was already helpless to do anything about it. She took a towel and cleaned me up. More red showing up, a wife seeing to the aftermath of her effect on me. I found my voice, asking to be let go, then muttering words about how I couldn’t control myself, she just leaned in again and laid another sensuous kiss on me silencing my mutterings.

When she withdrew her face from mine, she had a pair of tongs in her hand, reaching into my mouth with them and grabbing my tongue. I stared at her trying to figure out what she was doing. The tongs had locked onto my tongue, words were now impossible and my mouth was open in disbelief.

She placed something around my tongue, right behind the clamped on tongs. I felt her snap something shut and the tongs were removed from my mouth. Whatever she had placed around my tongue was secure, nothing I tried would dislodge it. I tried to say a few words, but nothing came out but gibberish.

She smiled at me, now that we have that mouth controlled we can take care of other matters. I tried to make a pitiful face at her, but she just gave me another kiss and continued with her agenda.

Once more she cleaned around my male organ, then applied an ice pack to the area. I violently twisted and turned trying to avoid the sudden cold. Another string of gibberish escaping my mouth, but to no avail. The ice had started melting before she removed the ice pack, then she started fitting something around my frozen male appendage.

I couldn’t feel anything down there still in shock at what was transpiring. I heard a click, then Suzie placed a necklace around her neck with a single key on it. I looked down at my groin now only seeing my penis locked in a tube, with an attached band behind my testicles. My substantial male organ now shrunk and quite pathetic looking
.
Another kiss from Suzie, then she proceeded to slip a diaper under my butt. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping this nightmare would cease to exist once I opened them again. No such luck, the diaper being secured around my body with pink diaper pins. It felt like more than one diaper, so much between my legs I couldn’t put them together any more.

She did gather up both of my hands in hers after releasing me, explaining what she had done and why. The tongue clamp was to limit my ability to complain, you agreed to help and we have to see if you will make a suitable sissy.

The chastity device is to make sure you don’t spurt off again. Really right in the restaurant, your timing needs some adjusting. The diaper is to make my life easier, so I don’t have to constantly clean up behind you. Now I need to find you some shoes and a dress and then see what we have managed to accomplish. I was left there hands free but feet still restrained. I laid there wondering where all of this is going, and why I have put up with everything so far.

The dress she came back with was so over the top, a short little piece of nothing that barely covered my groin. Lacey, and covered in pictures of kitties, a most juvenile looking dress. The shoes though took the prize, nothing but a jumble of straps attached to a towering heel.

It took her twenty minutes to affix them to my foot, I could see removing them would be nearly impossible. Finally released from the table I was helped to stand, then dragged over to a mirror. As soon as I saw my image I knew all was lost, a cute sissy dressed in heels and a juvenile dress was all there was to see. I imagine when she added other treatments she would have her sissy for advertising purposes. I closed my eyes, let out a huge sigh and tried to think of how I could live with this.

But soon remembered I didn’t have any choice. Already resembling a sissy, with just a dress, diaper and heels, further enhancements likely to put me firmly in the sissy hall of fame.

As if that was not enough, she led me to a chair near a sink, washed and conditioned my hair, then added a spray of something to the lock of hair in her hand then wound it on a curler. Repeated many times over my whole head receiving the curlers. Way too many to count each curler wound tight giving me a slight headache.

Next on her agenda was to do my makeup. She used more makeup than I thought possible, but the image in the mirror reflected the look she was striving for. I looked much younger, and so juvenile. It didn’t even look like I had any makeup on. A stint under the dryer to set my curls, then when she brushed it out I now looked like I was eight or nine years old, just big for my age.

Her smile said it all, I would be her perfect sissy from now on, confined to her salon showing all the customers what their own sissy could look like.

I was then taken home, dressed as a sissy, to be taken care of like a child from now on. When we entered the house, things had changed. The playpen in the middle of the living room an indication of the degree of changes. I was led back to the guest bedroom, to find it had been turned into a nursery.

A crib, a changing table and a shelving unit loaded with diapers. My diaper was changed, and then a onesie replaced my infant dress. The heels were replaced by a pair of lacy socks. Ribbons were wrapped around each curl of my hair to keep the curls from getting tangled up during the night. The look so childish.

I was helped up into the crib, a strap secured over my stomach to keep me from rolling out of the crib. The strap buckled underneath the crib, so that I could not release it. A kiss on the end of my nose and she turned on the mobile over the crib. Sleep well Sissykins, you have a long day tomorrow.

I was left there, put to bed and it was not even seven o’clock. She returned about fifteen minutes later with a baby bottle in her hands. I shook my head, not wanting anything to do with what she was planning for me. The nipple of the bottle was slipped into my mouth, my tongue no longer able to push it out. My throat was rubbed a little, causing me to start sucking on the nipple. The warm milk had the desired effect, I was soon asleep after finishing the bottle.

I did wake up later, my diaper soaked, causing me to cry and whine wanting out of the crib along with a dry diaper. Mommy to the rescue, my diaper changed then I was put back in my crib. I did get back to sleep dreaming of cure little sissy dresses and being ogled at the new salon.

She woke me up with a kiss on the nose, then changed my diaper yet again. She dressed me in another sissy dress, this one had tons of petticoats attached, but was so short my diaper was still visible. Off to the salon for my first day of being seen, advertising what the salon could do for their sissy.

The salon had not had a grand opening yet, but was open to the public as they finished setting up the styling areas. I was surprised at the number of customers they had so early in the morning, from my vantage point in the play pen near the reception area. I was placed in my home for the day, as a belt was fastened around my waist keeping me in the playpen. I couldn’t unfasten the belt, since my hands had been placed in mittens, rendering them useless.

Most of the females coming into the salon with their future sissies stopped to take in my appearance, telling the receptionist they wanted their sissy to look like me. My future sealed, a sissy for all to see and emulate. A perfect sissy.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Taffy, Cute Coed Cheerleader

After four years, I had a chance encounter with Christina, a friend from my past. We had been best friends and next door neighbors until her Mother got transferred to her company’s branch office in Texas. Now they were back, not next door, but in the same neighborhood a little over a half mile away. Her Mother was now the new CEO of the company, their corporate offices here in town. Christina was registering for college here, along with several of her girlfriends, when I ran into her.

I was greeted enthusiastically, maybe a little too much so. The kiss lasted for a couple of minutes, her girlfriends giggling away at the time. I knew a couple of them from before, Christina introducing the newest additions to me. It turns out they were all cheerleaders for the school, except Christina, and they were encouraging her to try out for the squad.

She locked arms with me and we spent the afternoon together. At first the girls seemed a little hostile towards me, a male interrupting their girl time. After a couple of hours, we were all having quite a good time, with me seeming to fit right into their female clique. We walked around the campus, the current students showing us where everything was located.

After registration and the tour, they wanted to go to the mall, so since I had a car, I ferried them all to the local mall. I say local mall, but it was more the size of one of the regional malls. Five anchors, and about one hundred and fifty boutique stores. I doubted the girls missed any stores that afternoon.

Christina started the teasing, holding up a dress to me in one of the anchor stores. “Oh this will look so good on you, why don’t you slip into the changing room and try it on.” My mouth was open clear to my knees, backing up and trying to retreat to a spot further away from her. Her girlfriends were right behind me, each grabbing an arm to stop any further retreat.

I must have turned numerous shades of red, I seriously doubted any more blood could invade my upper torso. I felt my whole body was red, a deep red from the faint feeling that was beginning to overtake me.

They steered me to the ladies rest room, it had a large lounge with couches and I was laid there on one of them, and a cool cloth laid over my eyes. When someone started playing with my belt buckle I immediately woke up. I must have passed out, for I honestly don’t remember a thing until Christina kissed me on the lips.

I was coming around, but things still didn’t feel right somehow. I tried to sit up some, but Christina pushed me back down and leaned in to whisper something to me.

“Lay there quietly while I explain what has happened. You are one of the girls now, you are wearing the cutest dress, and all of your male clothes have been thrown away. Your hair is in a ponytail, and you look totally female. When you stand up, you are wearing a pair of heels so you need to take it slow. The girls and I have bought you these clothes, and you are now one of us. Behave and I think you will have lots of fun.”

I looked first at my clothing, the dress fitting tight to my body, then suddenly flaring out into this huge skirt. I was helped up, two of them steadying me so I could see myself in the mirror. I closed my eyes and then re-opened them not believing the image I saw. I looked like a coed, similar to their looks, but in a dress and my hair in a ponytail. The situation was even worse since I had on heels, heels that I had never walked in before, heels that were threatening to put me face down on the bathroom floor at any minute.

I was handed a purse and led out into the mall. My head was swiveling around trying to see if I would be found out and laughed at. The female customers gave me a look, but then resumed shopping. The males I saw looked closely and then smiled, no laughter, only lust. Christina did have my arm tightly secured, for support, and also so I wouldn’t break loose and head for the car. Since I was still trying to stay upright I don’t think me running for the car was anything to be concerned about at the present time.

I kept pleading with her for us to go home now, but they still wanted to shop. Dragged from one store to another, but I had learned my lesson and I steadfastly refused to enter the stores.

The keys to my car had been confiscated by Christina, to make sure I would not be able to make a getaway. So I sat on the benches outside the stores, watching as male after male came walking by and looking my way. After the fifth store, I went in with them, I had noticed several young males our age that had been following me, gathering outside, figuring they were working up the nerve to talk to me. Of the two choices I had, being with the girls suddenly seemed the safer choice for now.

Again the teasing from the girls, now their subject right next to them, I even had to try on a few dresses. When dragged to the changing rooms and undressed, there was no longer a choice for me. After way to many dress changes we finally headed to the car.

We left the mall and went to Christina’s house. Christina drove, since I was still a little unsteady in the heels. Gawd that sounds so weird, me in heels. I went in with them, figuring her Mother would not be there since there was no car in the drive. Well as you know, sometimes it just doesn’t pay to think; I was greeted in the kitchen and hugged tightly. Gawd, Trevor you look so good, how did Christina get you in a dress?

Red again, tongue tied, and almost on the verge of fainting; Sherry and Tiff got me to a seat and Christina told her mother all about our day at the mall. Then I remembered they had thrown out all of my clothes, how am I going to get home and past my Mom?

I broke into tears, in a dress for a couple of hours and I am already acting like a distraught female. Jennifer, Christina’s Mom, came over and comforted me, I think she figured it out. She pulled my head onto her shoulder and let me cry it out. She was stroking the back of my head and whispering it will be alright.

Finally, I had no more fuel for the tears, so Christina pulled me up and pushed me to the bathroom so I could wash my face. I used the facilities while I was there. I had been too scared to use one of the bathrooms at the mall. I could hear some talking in the kitchen as we headed back, and as I entered, my Mom grabbed me and hugged me so hard, I had a hard time trying to get my next breath.

Red faced again and the faint feelings exploding in my head once again; but before I could do the deed, a washcloth was handed me and the girls had me in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Two of them had their hands on my shoulders, making sure that I was still with them, my Mom sitting right next to me.

Christina’s Mom gave the explanation to my Mother, the smile never leaving her face. I was sure I would get in trouble for this, both of my parents are fairly strict and unforgiving. It was like my Mom had been replaced with an alien somehow, taking it all in and a few giggles at what had transpired.

After the explanation. The two mom’s talked as if this was an everyday occurrence. I was led off to Christina’s room to look over their other purchases. I hadn’t paid any attention to what they looked at or bought today, but now they wanted me to see it all. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me completely, my future didn’t look very bright. Even if my Mom has been replaced with an alien, there is still Dad and I know he would not condone this at all, in fact I have a feeling I would be probably be shipped off to a military school after today’s incident.

Back to the present, as one of the girls lowered the zipper on my dress. I know they had seen me naked when they dressed me at the store, but this was different, as I was not passed out. No such luck on avoiding the inevitable, since I had no experience with a dress before, everything I tried to hang on to was for naught, the dress ended up on the floor and I got my first peek at my underwear.

The bra was lacy, although they had put nothing in the cups, some of my flesh was pulled up into the cups making for a small breast like protrusion. Looking down, the very brief panties in pink, of course, seemed to scream female.

I have never been hairy, in high school gym it was always a problem, the number of times I had been accused of shaving my body like a girl were too numerous to count.

My male apparatus was average size I guess, I never compared it with others, in fact except for gym I had never seen another male organ and those were only peeks every once in a while when nobody was looking my way.

As for dating females, I was too shy and embarrassed to even ask. When the guys talked about their conquests, and I was asked about mine. I just told them the girl was not from around here and I didn’t want to embarrass her by talking about what we did together. I doubted they believed me, but since I was a nobody, school wise, no one seemed to care anyway.

I was helped into a camisole top and a pair of shorts were slid up my legs. The color in a light purple convinced me they were not male clothes. A pair of sneakers, and I was dragged back to the kitchen. Both of our Moms gave me an up and down look,

Christina telling them I was going to practice some of their cheerleader routines with them. I just stared at Christina, this was news to me. My Mom hugged me then kissed my forehead. Her departing words were to have fun. I stood there sure I would be saved by her, but instead she wished me well and left for home.

I was dragged outside to their back yard, and the girls lined up, each one showing us a routine, then we would practice it till we could do it easily. It was four hours later before we came back inside the house. I was beat literally, that is more work and exercise than I have done in years.

We grabbed some diet drinks and went out to her patio and collapsed in some loungers. We talked and sipped our drinks, then the girls had to get home in time for their family dinners. As they left, each girl told me when practice and tryouts were, I shook my head until Tiff showed me a picture on her smart phone of me.

“Be at the tryouts in this outfit or I will send the picture to Facebook with an explanation. If you think I am bluffing you are in for a big surprise.”

Christina took my hand and led me over into a corner and started explaining. “All of the girls think you are awesome and want you on the squad; now you can cooperate, or the girls will apply some friendly pressure like outing you to the entire school. Since you have not had the experience of dealing with females much, they usually get what they want, one way or another. Wash the outfit you have on and bring it to school on your first day. I will pick you up after your last class and escort you to the tryouts so you don’t get lost.”

She gave me one of her thousand megawatt smiles and pushed me out the front door. I walked to my house, since Mom had driven my car home earlier. I was hoping that Dad would not be home yet, thus allowing me to change before he got a look at me.

As I rounded the last turn, my hopes were dashed, his car was in the driveway. I slowed down my walk, but with nowhere else to go but home, there was nothing I could do. I swallowed hard several times but entered the house. I could hear Mom in the kitchen cooking and tried to make my way there. She had gone along with my change so far, maybe she could keep me from getting killed by my Father.

Two steps inside the house and Dad is standing right before me. He takes his time looking at me, puts his hand on my shoulder and turns me around so he can see my backside. Oh shit, I am going to get a spanking! I have received many from him before, believe me they made an impression on me!

Then he scoots up behind me and wraps his arms around me tightly. I try to look over my shoulder to see what his facial expression is, as this is so unlike my Father in so many ways. He slides his head up close to my ear, then whispers to me in a low steady voice. “You look very pretty Taffy, I hear you are going to try out for the cheerleaders. Mom says you were very talented mastering some of their routines already.”

I twist out of his embrace, stare at him, and then screamed, “What have you done with my father?” He chuckles, grabbed me again and drags me into the kitchen. His next remark is very puzzling. “Can you call me Daddy, Father or dad is so blasé?”

Mom is having a giggling fit in front of the stove, but she points to the sink. “Wash your hands Taffy, then you can help me with dinner.”

I move towards the sink, I must have been zapped into another world, right through the twilight zone and way beyond. Neither of my parents are sane, both have been possessed somehow. I look at the sink and turn on the water to wash my hands. I notice both of them heading my way, so I grab a towel and try to dry my hands and make an escape. Too late, I am group hugged and squashed to death. I twist and turn but they hang on, giggling and hugging me. Mom resorts to kissing and soon my face is covered in her lipstick.

I finally accept my fate and relax, they hug me tighter and make soothing noises as they continue to try and squash me with hugs. After a few minutes, Mom pushed Dad out of the kitchen handing me some fixings for a salad and told me to get to work. Meanwhile, she finishes browning the Salisbury steaks (fancy name for hamburger), and the pot of gravy to smother them with, a steamer full of carrots is added to a bowl and we set the table and bring the food to it.

I am still peeking at them often, this can’t be my parents, I never did believe in aliens before, but this is proof positive of their existence. We sit down at the table, Dad says a short prayer and we dig in. After the initial taste of everything, Mom approaches the elephant in the room.

“Contrary to your thoughts, we have expected some of the events played out today for quite a few years. I am sure Christina had a lot to do with you coming out today. Ever since you were knee high, you have acted more like a female than any normal male child. When we saw some of the signs, we sought out help, even got you to a doctor to have you checked out. You were never blatant, you were always reserved in your actions, unlike most of the other children.

Like today, you went along with the girls, something any normal male would never do, a male caught shopping, is the ultimate humiliation. Then after getting you in a dress, you stayed with them all afternoon. Not a male reaction or behavior. I am sure the girls were leaning on you to stay, but if you just walked away I am sure it would have been over.”

“So now that we have that handled, let’s move on. We both think that you should explore this side of you, I know one of the officials at your school, and I am sure we can arrange it so you can attend as a female. I doubt any of your fellow students will even notice the change. Since you have been such a well behaved child, I think I can come up with a new wardrobe for you, even spring for a full makeover.

We still expect the excellent grades, being a member of the cheerleaders would be a nice bonus to the mix. I am afraid you will now have a curfew, eleven o’clock most nights unless it is some special occasion. We will need to meet your date and approve before you go out, not afterwards. Of course, you will now have responsibilities around the house, doing your own laundry and helping with the cooking of meals just a part of what is in store for you that also includes some house cleaning young lady.”

That settles it my parents have been possessed, what am I going to do? They are treating me like I am their daughter, well seeing my image in the mirror, I guess I look like their female child. Curfews, getting my date approved, what is next, birth control pills? Don’t answer that especially in front of Mom.

I just sat there, not knowing what to say or do. Mom pipes up first. “You might take a washcloth to your face, or go to my room and use the cream on the vanity. You are pretty cute that way, but lipstick looks better on the lips. I go to her room after putting my dishes in the dishwasher, much to my Mom’s astonishment.

I find the cream and look in the mirror. It is comical as there is lipstick marks all over my face and forehead. I use the cream and clean them all off, then on a whim take her tube of lipstick and coat my lips. I rub my lips together like she does, then prance back downstairs. Yeah prance, a female can prance if she wants to, so there.

I help her with the dishes and clean the counters for her, then move the leftovers that she has put in containers into the refrigerator. I look around to see if everything has been handled, then walk over to Mom and kiss her on the cheek, leaving her a set of lipstick prints, then ran to my room.

I hear her footsteps behind me, both of us giggling away. She catches me before I can close my door, pushing me on to my bed, then starts tickling me. I beg for her to stop, at least, try to as, I am laughing and crying as she continues her assault on my body. She lays down beside me hugging me closely. If you want to try this for a while, I would love to have Taffy around, we can have so much fun spending your Dad’s money on clothes, shoes and makeup.

I was given a nightie to wear to bed, a most unsettling feeling as it slid down my body. It felt wonderful, but I knew a male should never succumb to such dainty and feminine things. The guilt lasted for maybe a minute, okay two minutes, then I hugged my body and slipped into dreamland.

The next few days were spent obtaining clothes for the new female in the neighborhood. Christina took me shopping one day, she and Mom had talked and a budget was set up for my new wardrobe. Dad supplied the funds, a prepaid debit card for my purchases.

I never did think back on not choosing this route, it was as if the track I was on is my only choice. Christina was of course enthused, a new BFF to dress, to spend time with and maybe a fellow cheerleader to boot. The other girls came by often, as we practiced the routines. When they found out I was going to university as a female there were squeals of delight.

Mom had taken me to a salon for a hair styling, a professional makeover, getting my ears pierced and my eyebrows eliminated. That salon trip also was where my breasts came into existence. Some silicone breast forms were glued to my chest after all of my body hair disappeared. I never had much hair on my body anyway, but the feeling of having none was wonderful.

The breast forms were like jello, bouncing around with every movement of my body. The bra that came next was kind of confining around my chest, but not having as much bouncing and wiggling was well worth the tightness around my chest. Down below was handled in a similar way, junior glued back between my legs and a silicone vagina added to make me look female. Way too realistic in my opinion.

Then she too got to take me shopping. We spent four hours hitting the stores downtown, the fancier dress shops had congregated there, less clothes were purchased, but five times the amount of money was spent as with shopping with Christina.

The first day of classes was now here, I was up at the crack of dawn going over my clothing choices, putting my hair up in a high ponytail, then taking it down and doing it over again. The same was done with my lipstick and mascara, as I attempted to find the right look. I decided on a skirt and blouse for my first day, the skirt an A line that came to four inches above my knees. The blouse was fairly conservative, but tight enough to emphasize my new boobs.

Christina had came up to my room, tired of waiting for me downstairs. A large smile on her face as she entered. She giggled as she watched me primp in the mirror, trying to find the perfect look. After redoing my ponytail once again she grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs. I checked the contents of my purse again, keys, tissues, lipstick, lip gloss, mascara, and of course a tampon.

Wait a minute who put that in my purse? As I was being dragged our the door I managed to snatch my backpack from behind the bedroom door, no chance to see if what I needed was in the backpack. I had packed it last night, I hope I remembered everything.

The first day of classes was anti-climatic in a way, strictly orientation with no mention of homework this first day. At my last class, as soon as I exited the classroom Christina grabbed a hold of me and we were off to the tryouts. As we entered the gym, I saw a sea of young females, all here to tryout for the squad. I saw my chance of joining the squad wither away. But first I had to change into the clothes I had brought for the tryouts. Christina helped me, since I was not handling the situation as well as she thought I should.

Once dressed she added some lipstick and mascara and my male persona totally disappeared. Earlier in classes I looked female, but not cheerleader material, now there was no doubt of my fitting in if chosen.

The cheerleader coach lined everybody up in a single line around a circle marked in the gym floor. I counted fifty three females all wanting to become a cheerleader. The existing cheerleaders were in the center of the circle and would do a part of the routine and then the girls trying out would try to duplicate it.

Christina and I had no trouble with the routine since that was what we had been practicing for the last few weeks. Several hours later the coach announced who made the squad, Christina squealing in delight. The last name was called, and I sighed. Then as I was walking away Christina and several of the girls attacked me. I didn’t even recognize my name when it was called, I was hugged and kissed, then the light came on upstairs. I had made the squad.

Life after that was not the same, I was included in everything, dated boys and went shopping whenever the time allowed. I managed to keep my grades up and abide my curfew. I did get a salon appointment every week, Mom’s gift to her daughter.

I was a cheerleader all four years of my time at University, even manged to snag me a boyfriend. He knows all about me, but to him I am just his girlfriend. We kiss and cuddle a lot, saving anything more till we graduate. I see a psychologist regularly, my SRS scheduled for after I graduate. Life has been good to me, a cute coed cheerleader and now a young woman in love.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Tessie, Goody A New Maid

From the time I got up this morning till now, today has been one shitty day. I ended up having to get my car jumped because of a dead battery. The service I paid for to handle such occurrences taking their sweet time to get here. Thus I arrived late for work missing an important meeting, my immediate boss livid that I had missed it. Then my computer failed a little after eleven A.M. requiring the IT guys to replace the hard drive. Three hours of work that I had performed this morning lost in the process. Then the final touch to my horrible day occurred.

I was called into the regional manager’s office shortly after lunch, and asked to explain why one of my customers had requested somebody else be assigned to their account. According to them I had botched up a request of theirs and then denied any wrong doing. I just stood there not knowing what to say or do. The simple fact that my supervisor had taken over this account a few days ago conveniently not mentioned. It seems that my immediate boss has planned this well, everything pointing to my failing to keep the customer happy.

If I told them I didn’t have anything to do with their request I will probably not be believed, since it will be my word against his. When in doubt the customer is always right, one of our company’s pet phrases, now most likely my downfall.

Then my boss walks in, and explains to him why I had missed the meeting this morning, citing my explanation of supposed car trouble. The fact that he himself was late for this same meeting conveniently not brought up. They stared at me for a few minutes waiting for me to say or do something. My boss suggested that since I have nothing to say that I be let go, if he won’t even try to explain his actions we do not need him as part of our team. Yeah some team, make my boss look good or you are let go. I just stood there, mouth twitching at what was happening right in front of me.

“I am afraid you leave us no choice, if you will not respond to our questions I will have to presume you do not care about your job here. Therefore we will have to let you go. Clean out your desk, you will be given one week severance pay, but don’t expect a favorable reference from us.”

Just like that it was over. A few moments later a member of security took hold of my arm and I was escorted to my desk, then after gathering my personal effects I was escorted out the door. As we left my department I noticed a smile on my boss’s face, his plan had worked even better than he thought it might. In the span of twenty minutes my life had been turned upside down. I had worked for the company for six years, all of that gone down the drain to quote an over used cliche.

I made it to my car, then remembered the trouble with the battery this morning. I put the keys in the ignition and tried to start it, the car starting quickly and effortlessly. I hit the steering wheel hard, almost breaking my wrist. Stupid car, this morning when I needed to get to work it wouldn’t start, this afternoon after a horrible day it started with no problem.

I did eventually get home, two hours ahead of my wife. I needed to gather my wits, so I had taken the long way home. I am not sure why but I did manage to put a few things in perspective.

Instead of calling my wife to fill her in on what happened, I decided to convey the bad news in person. Now what to do for two hours till she gets home. I debated on asking her out to dinner tonight, but with my income soon to be missing that sounded kind of idiotic.

To stay busy I cleaned up some in the kitchen and living room. I loaded the dishwasher, wiped down the counters and put things up that had been left out. In the living room I ran the vacuum, dusted the tables and arranged the myriad of throw pillows neatly on the two sofas. I even picked up mail that had been looked at and left on a table, putting it in our office/den along with the accumulation of magazines we normally received.

I was hanging up a couple of coats that we had used last night and left on the back of a chair when Jennifer, my wife, entered. She stopped and looked at me, then around the living room before taking me into the kitchen and sitting me down at the snack bar. Another look around the kitchen at what I had done then she sat next to me and told me, okay out with it.

I started with the stupid car and ended up with me being escorted out of the company headquarters by security. She pulled me into a hug, and made me lay my head on her shoulder. I can’t say I was crying but leaking moisture from my eyes is usually a telltale sign. She told me to wash my face and help her make dinner. I got back before she had changed clothes and was rummaging around in the refrigerator when she came up behind me and swatted my butt.

I turned in a hurry and was met with a hungry pair of lips searching for something to kiss. As she pulled me closer she told me that you have one terrific looking butt, the envy of every female that wants to look sexy. I ignored that comment, not something a male wants to hear about his butt. I guess with me leaning over to look in the refrigerator my butt was in the proper position to be viewed and appraised.

I ended up doing most of the dinner preparation, while she asked questions on what I was planning to do. I did mention about the one week severance, enough to allow me to pursue something else without any further financial deterioration. She thought I should see a lawyer, it sounded to her that my boss was stretching the truth to get me fired. My only reply was lawyers take money, if I don’t win it will only make matters worse. The likelihood of a lawyer settling anything quickly was also a serious consideration.

She loved what I had managed to put together, a shepherd’s pie that had most of the leftovers from the refrigerator as ingredients. I found some frozen fruit, wrapped them in some pastry dough we had in the refrigerator and then baked them for several minutes, serving them hot from the oven. The pastry dough was left over from making a cobbler earlier in the week. Needless to say my culinary efforts disappeared very quickly. Let’s just say it was fortunate that I got some the first time around, since there obviously will be no leftovers from tonight’s meal.

Since this was Thursday I told her I would start looking for a job on Monday, spending the weekend cleaning up around the house to keep from going crazy or dying from boredom.

She reminded me of her going to her parent’s house tomorrow after work, staying the night and returning late Saturday evening or Sunday morning depending on how long it took them to clean up after the get together. Her Mom was having a dinner party for her closest female friends and needed her help to keep everything moving along smoothly. I told her I would be fine, lonely without her, but I will somehow manage to make it till I see her when she gets back.

The next morning it was weird not having to get up to go to work, another tear or two shed as I thought of what I should have done or said yesterday to keep from getting fired. No matter what I said or did the outcome would most likely have been the same. Maybe my boss had it in for me, since I was in the regional manager’s office when I first had heard of the complaint. No matter how much I thought about it, that part of my life is over with. In the future maybe a different job though, I doubt I will be able to get a job doing the same things I was doing before.

I made me a slice of toast then walked around the house seeing what might need to be done. I have always suffered from terminal boredom, usually finding anything to do to keep my mind and body occupied. It was like I was not at peace with the world around me unless I was doing something. Whether it was straightening something or cooking, my mind and body had to be constantly engaged for me to be able to function. After my appraisal of what needed to be done I decided to start in our bedroom, then go from there.

I rounded up dirty clothes, sorted them and started the first load of laundry. Since Jennifer usually did laundry on the weekend there was quite a bit lying around. I checked her closet, making sure there wasn’t any more items that needed to be laundered in there. I straightened up a couple of her dresses on the hangers, and buttoned up a couple of blouses that she had tried on, but put back when the look didn’t suit her. I spaced out her clothes a little giving each item some breathing room. I know a husband arranging clothes so they get some breathing room, maybe it is already too late for me.

As I was moving and straightening the last items in the corner of the closet, I ran into a brief little dress I haven’t seen her wear before. Pulling it out to look at it better it was a maid’s uniform. I did remember her saying she worked as a maid part time to finish her senior year of University. I presumed this was a leftover from that time.

Her mother’s business until she decided to retire was running a company where she rented out maids, cooks, and other domestic help. When Jennifer needed some extra money for school her Mom got her jobs on the weekend. I always suspected the only reason I was accepted as a husband for her daughter was my super clean apartment, and the fact that I could cook something other than hamburgers.

I know the time I had Jennifer and her parents over for dinner when I was trying to convince Jennifer of my worthiness as a boyfriend, seemed to be a turning point. From then on I was included in most any thing that they did with their daughter.

I looked around the room, to make sure I was alone and held the uniform up against me. There was definitely not any cranial matter used in that action. Alone in the house and I was looking to see if anybody was watching what I was doing. It looked like it would fit, Jennifer and I are nearly identical in size except for her female breasts and hips.

Well lets just say her breasts, since her comment last night I apparently had the required female hips in spades. I am a couple of inches taller than her though. I think I weigh less than she does but her weight is a topic that is never discussed in our house so that remains an unknown factor.

With a few beads of perspiration forming on my forehead I decided to try the uniform on. I got undressed and stepped into the short dress, then reached around and pulled up the zipper, not an easy task for a male. The uniform was a little big on me, a fact that Jennifer would have a fit about if she knew. I looked in the mirror on her closet door, twisting this way and that to see if I passed mustard.

The dress had a short skirt, ruffled at the hem making it stand out some. I looked at the hanger noticing the little bag of accessories that was attached. I took off the bag and slipped the items on my body. There were wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and a collar all made of stretch lace in a color that matched the uniform. Another look in the mirror, a small smile coming to my face.

As I turned to take one last look I saw the bottom of my boxers peek out from under the skirt. That will never do, so I went to her dresser and searched for a pair of panties to wear. Removing my boxers and replacing them with the panties was easy, dealing with the feelings as the silky panties slid up my legs was a different matter altogether.

As I started to walk away, I wondered if her heels would fit me. I returned to the closet and searched her shelves for a pair that would match the uniform. I found one pair but promptly put them back since the heel looked so high. After a careful scan of her shelves of shoes the second time, I removed one of the towering heels and tried it on. They seemed to be the only ones matching the uniform and probably the only ones I could get my feet in. Surprisingly they fit fairly well, but if I wore them today I would have to wear hose of some kind. Oh well, might as well go all out, at least I would be properly dressed for my duties as the maid of the house.

I found a pair of her pantyhose, and managed to get them on without poking holes in them. My male original equipment seemed content to be nestled in the silky panties, never making an appearance while I got dressed in the maid’s uniform and pantyhose. I put my longish hair in a ponytail and used one of her lipsticks to add some color to my lips. I looked over at the clock on her nightstand, deciding I better get to work, fearing my employer for the day will report me back to the agency.

Yeah, besides always having to stay busy, I made up little fantasies often immersing myself in the fantasy. I have no idea why or even when I started doing it. I guess a product of a mind that was not normal. I even talked to myself at times to show how far this had progressed. No I never got to the point of answering myself, at least, not yet.

I made it through the majority of the house straightening and cleaning, even fixed me a salad for lunch. I was proud of what I accomplished a smile on my face for most of the time. I had made a list of a few cleaning supplies I might need, for the future. If I can’t find employment this might become my full time job. I stayed at it, knowing I would be alone tonight, something to do to keep my mind occupied.

As I was looking in the refrigerator for something to eat for dinner I failed to hear the door open and Jennifer walk in. I laid a few items on the counter, thinking that I will make myself an omelet. I had the eggs in my hand as she cleared her throat behind me, causing me to drop the eggs on the floor.

She was giggling hard as she took her phone and was snapping pictures of me in the maid’s uniform trying desperately to clean up the mess that I made and stay out of her sight. As quick as she materialized she disappeared with me finding her later walking through the house with a huge grin on her face. Before I could say anything she was calling her mother, the first words out of her mouth was I have found our maid for tomorrow, then she turned and walked back to the bedroom still talking to her mother.

“Wait a minute Jennifer come back here. Please don’t tell your mother how I am dressed.” I knew when the words left my mouth it was already too late. Oh gawd, the humiliation of her mother knowing about how I was dressed, then the divorce that I am sure will follow such a revelation.

A few minutes later she came and collected me dragging me out to her car, then depositing me in the passenger seat. As she drove she explained that the maid that her mother had arranged for broke her leg in a car accident and would not be able to cook and serve. Jennifer had come home to get her maid’s uniform so she could fill in, but I would work out much better.

We are headed to a salon that will improve your feminine appearance then over to her mom’s for tonight. Tomorrow you can prepare the meal, then touch up the house as needed. Welcome the guests and then serve the meal. I will help you with the drinks through the evening and will help you clean up afterward.

“I have already called the salon, they are just going to do the basics, breasts, hiding my favorite play toy and probably a corset to help with your figure. Of course makeup, a new hairstyle and hair removal for your entire body. That will soften or eliminate that slightly masculine image of yours. Maybe a little throat spray to raise your voice to a more feminine level.

You should be done around midnight, meanwhile I will be getting you a proper uniform that fits, probably in pink. Mom always liked pink maid’s uniforms. Then return to pick you up. I am sure we can make you comfortable in the maid’s quarters on the third floor of her house for tonight.” I stared at her, me sleeping in the maid’s quarters, surely she is just teasing me.

“Well that is where the maids sleep, hence where you will sleep.”

“I did not miss the fact that you are slimmer than me. As of this moment you are in deep do-do, a husband with a better figure than his wife is not allowed ever. Did you hear that last word, Ever? Later, after this is all over we will talk about that fact. Believe me we will talk about that at length, along with several other matters.”

I was dropped off at the salon then ushered to a private room where my clothes were removed. Jennifer coming in with me to make sure I didn’t slip away. Of course, as Jennifer left the salon with my clothes, a few giggles escaped as she slipped out the door. I was helped up on a table and my front side was slathered in a white cream. That included my beard area and my eyebrows. I didn’t shave often, maybe twice a week if the weather was hot and humid. I would imagine that fact will only make it easier to transform me into the body of the new maid.

I laid there trying to figure out just what the hell went wrong. For the second day in a row my day progressed from okay to a huge disaster. Since Jennifer has already announced my services to her mother I guess I am committed to that part. The removal of anything masculine from my image fits in better with the maid’s costume I will be wearing. But still a husband filling in for a maid, something is just not quite right there. If only I had not tried on her old uniform.

As the lady that was working on me wiped off the cream, what little body hair I possessed came with it. Flipped over and the back side was handled the same way. Then two fairly large breast forms were glued to my chest, the lady guaranteeing they would not come lose, even if subjected to a shower. My feet in stirrups and my little friend disappeared under a silicone vagina with two very delicious looking lips. I think my little fella had figured out what was going to happen, he stayed tight to my body and minimal in appearance, for fear of things getting worse.

Then she turned her attention to my hair, washing and conditioning it, then setting it in curlers. Under a dryer till the curl was set, then she started on my makeup, telling me that she was using a semi-permanent makeup lasting for a couple of weeks, that way I would not have to learn to do my own makeup in the next day or two. I immediately thought of Monday, job hunting with my now curly hair and makeup.

My ears were pierced, two holes in each ear, one lower on the earlobe for dangle earrings and one a little higher for studs. I don’t remember Jennifer mentioning me getting my ears pierced on the way to the salon. Oh well too late now.

It didn’t just end there, extensions for my fingernails and a bright pink polish, all processed under a UV light to insure they stay on my nails for the duration. The fingernails were not mentioned either, I presume that fact just slipped her mind.

An ecstatic Jennifer appeared next to me, leaning over and kissing me on the tip of my nose. I was helped up from the chair and wrapped in a light pink corset. I knew what it was, Jennifer having one that she sometimes wore to look especially sexy. I didn’t think that a party for her mother’s friends required a sexy figure. The two of them worked the laces for an eternity, finally tying them off behind my back. Then an even smaller maid’s uniform then the one I had on when I was brought into the salon was slid up my body. Her recent shopping trip apparently finding the correctly sized uniforms. A pair of panties was furnished for underneath the short skirt. It felt very drafty, there was just not anything there to cover any of my legs and thighs.

Stockings will be expected in the morning, tonight however just pantyhose so that I could get my feet in the heels she had obtained for me. One look at the height of the heel and I let out a moan, surely she can’t expect me to walk in these, much less serve in them. The heel looked to be at least five inches tall and tapered down to a narrow stiletto at the base of the heel. Although similar to the ones I had borrowed from Jennifer the heel was higher and quite a bit narrower.

Back in the chair and my hair was removed from the curlers and piled on top of my head in a semi-turban look with curls and ribbons emerging all around the style. Of course, pink ribbons to match the uniform.

Then she produced some metal bracelet like things, in a pink finish that fastened around each of my wrists, and my ankles with a larger one for my neck. They clicked when pushed together with no seams or clasp visible for removal later. I briefly wondered where they came from and why Jennifer was putting them on me. I didn’t even want to think what that might imply for my future, maybe if I ignore them they will magically go away later. Yeah I know my fantasies are growing exponentially.

They did not forget my voice, several applications of a throat spray, raised my voice almost to a comical level, but the tech assured me by tomorrow it will settle into a rather normal female sounding voice. I decided not to speak unless spoken to, my suddenly feminine voice really affecting my ability to cope with all of this.

I was removed from the salon and helped into her car. She drove to her parent’s house, my anxiety mounting as each mile was covered. Finally she parked the car in their huge garage, her mother out the door that opened into the kitchen to get a glimpse of her new maid. I was hugged to death, apparently she is quite pleased with how I turned out. I curtsied to her then spoke to her like I was her employee.

“Ms. Haverty I am pleased you requested me for your party and will do all I can to make it a success. If you require nothing more of me right now I would like to retire to my quarters and slip out of these shoes that are killing my feet.”

Those were the hardest words to get out, essentially I accepted I was nothing but her lowly maid. I raised my hand to my mouth, the voice coming out was so feminine, high and almost squeaky. I do hope it does not stay like this, no one will take me seriously sounding like this.

Both Jennifer and her mother broke out in laughter, but Jennifer was the one to promptly lead me upstairs to the maid’s quarters. The closet door was open, several other uniforms were hanging there and a pair of matching shoes for each uniform on the floor. I was shown where my lingerie was and the in suite bathroom where I could freshen up. I got a quick kiss and Jennifer left me alone. I guess I am officially the maid and nothing more tonight and tomorrow. Oh well, better not put too much thought in what that may mean for me, I am sure some of the obvious conclusions will be disappointing.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping the two torture devices from my feet. I rubbed my feet for quite a while wondering how I am going to put up with the heels all day tomorrow. It was impossible to ignore the fingernail polish that was on my nails, the extensions making my fingers look slender and dainty. The longer nails also playing havoc with undoing the straps on the heels. Yes, the polish was pink too, so that I would coordinate. Surprisingly I only stabbed myself five times with my new longer talons.

I managed to get the uniform off, found a nightie and was soon in bed staring at the ceiling. Trying to figure any of this out. I had however set the alarm for six AM, only five hours from now, I might need the time to handle the duties I will be expected to perform tomorrow, the ones I have not been told about yet. Ones that I am sure will be required of me to handle the dinner party properly.

I was a bundle of nerves inside, all of this so unexpected and foreign to me. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, but with my stomach as upset as it is that is probably a good thing. Maybe if I can keep the near panic bottled inside I just might make it through the day tomorrow without coming apart mentally. I know, right now I could close my eyes and scream, probably loud enough to be heard in the adjoining county, my mind trying to handle things but failing miserably. I don’t remember a thing after that, the buzzer on the alarm the first thing I was aware of the next morning.

I found some clean lingerie to wear this morning and looked at the uniforms in the closet. The corset had stayed on last night, uncomfortable at first but eventually forgotten about. I figured I needed something to wear as I cleaned and cooked whatever they wanted for later. I found a light yellow uniform, not as fancy and more utilitarian than the pink ones. I did notice I had a clean pink one for later today to change into. The shoes to match the yellow uniform and I was ready to tackle the day. I was determined to not think about what I was doing and what was to come, just stay busy and hope for the best.

I made my way downstairs, the house eerily quiet. I figured I would start at the front door and then progress to where I thought things would happen. I straightened, dusted and made a note of where I needed to comeback and vacuum when the rest of the house wakes up.

Although I had to force myself to tackle the downstairs bathroom, I knew with female guests all the bathrooms would need to be spotlessly clean. That is where Jennifer found me, on my hands and knees cleaning the floor. She pointed to a spot in the corner where I had not cleaned yet, reminding me that it needed to be handled. I looked at her and stuck out my tongue, that getting me a hard swat on the butt, the panties and a pair of pantyhose not doing much to soften the blow.

She left me to inspect the other areas for what needed to be done. I had covered most of where she looked already so she found very little to rub my nose in. I guess she was playing my employer, to make notes to pass on to the agency if my work was not adequate. When she returned she was all smiles.

I was taken to the kitchen and shown what was on the menu for tonight. Some appetizers to be ready about four, her mother’s first guests expected about the same time. Then the buffet needed to be ready about six, with the dining room table set up with plates, silverware and glasses. Her guests would get their own food from the buffet, but I would be expected to get any condiments for them and of course serve them their choice of beverage.

Remove empty dishes then serve dessert along with coffee if desired. After clearing the dining room you will serve wine in the living room for those that request it. Then of course clean up all the dishes and the kitchen before you get the ladies their coats and purses as they leave later in the evening.

I looked over the foods they wanted for the buffet, smiling as nothing on the list would be difficult to prepare. I curtsied to Jennifer. “Thank you Miss Haverty for the job, I will do my best to please you.” Then headed to the kitchen to start preparing the food. I turned to see the expression on her face, her mouth wide open an indication of my actions on her.

It took me about an hour to find everything and make the initial preparations of the dishes. Later I will only need to cook the items that needed it, the items to be served cold only needing to be put on the buffet table.

I headed to the dining room, set the table for her expected fifteen guests, and then made sure what I needed in serving accessories was ready on the table used to house the buffet. Both of the Haverty females made frequent visits to check on my progress, but left me alone for the most part. Miss Haverty did find the time to swat my butt frequently, with me having to remind her that I would need to report that action to the agency. A giggle and she was off again until the next occurence.

I was getting a little hungry but decided to skip eating my stomach still rumbling quite violently. The only thing keeping me somewhat in the game was me staying busy, trying to make sure everything was perfect for tonight. Since this was my first job with the agency, I wanted to make a good impression. Gawd as if all of this is not enough to deal with I am still making up fantasy scenarios in my mind.

I finished all of the cold dishes, and placed them in the refrigerator to stay chilled. The dishes to be put in the oven were already setting on the counter. I had just finished the appetizers when Miss Haverty did another one of her checks on me, the swat on my butt getting my attention very quickly. She held me in her arms, squashing my breasts against hers while kissing me hard on the lips. She whispered in my ear that both her and her Mom are so appreciative of your help, you have turned out far better than any hired help in the past.

But if you want to avoid a bad report on you appearance you might want to fix your lipstick, and get that erstwhile tit back in its bra cup. I looked down quickly, my tits secure in their bra cups as she giggled and waltzed away. I think I heard, made you look as she retreated. I did repair my lipstick though, it was smeared all over my lips, thanks to Miss Haverty. I wonder if is common for the employer to assault the maid this way, surely the agency would not tolerate this.

I still had a little time so I made my way upstairs and cleaned that bathroom too. The inspector made her visit, but this time I was spared any makeup repairs. While upstairs I changed into my pink uniform and the dreaded stiletto heels and touched up my lipstick and mascara. I checked my appearance then headed downstairs.

As I was heading back downstairs I thought about what I was doing. My nerves were a little better, mainly because I hadn’t had time to worry about things. So far things were going okay, maybe I can make it through the remainder of the day without any more problems. I hope Ms. Haverty’s friends assume that I am indeed a female, exposed to the group for being a male and Miss Haverty’s husband might put a damper on the festivities this afternoon and evening.

Now in the home stretch I got everything in the oven, luckily she had two ovens so everything could cook at the same time. I checked everything again, not wanting to forget anything and embarrass myself or my employer. The doorbell rang just after four, so I made my way there greeting them and taking their coats and purses. There was a small den not far from the front door, so that is where their things were put. I showed them to the living room, curtsied and left. Over the next thirty minutes all of the rest of her guests showed up all handled in the same way.

I checked to see if they desired something to drink, took their orders and returned later with their orders, followed up by the trays of appetizers. Every time I entered or left I curtsied after dropping off whatever I was bringing. Several times I overheard some of the conversation, my name mentioned often. I guess Miss Haverty decided an appropriate name for a maid would be Tessie, so that is how I was referred to for the duration of the day.

Nothing was really difficult, since I had planned things fairly well there were no disasters or failures on my part. After I had most of her guests taken care of I went to set up the buffet, the cold dishes and the remainder of the appetizers were placed there first, the hot dishes to be brought out right before dinner was served. I checked in on the group in the living room, making sure no one was needing anything while carrying some empty glasses back to the kitchen.

Ms. Haverty came to tell me dinner could be served after kissing me directly on the lips and thanking me for being such an excellent maid. Another makeup repair then I finished setting up the buffet. When all was ready I entered the living room did a deep curtsy and announced dinner is ready. I was the subject of some tittering among her guests but they did make their way to the dining room. As they set down after filling their plates I asked for their drink choices and then returned with them a few minutes later.

Earlier Miss Haverty said she would help me with the drinks but she never did make an effort to help. I presume since she was paying my exorbitant fee she decided I could handle it myself. The longest one of the ladies had to wait for her drink was a couple of minutes so I presume I handled it in a satisfactory way. I did make sure I waited on Miss Haverty last, the smirk on my face showing how much I was enjoying making her wait for service.

Always super courteous wanting to know if I can get her anything else. She was sitting at the end of the table and not in full view of the guests, so her couple of gropes of my butt would not be noticed by anyone. No doubt it will cost me later, but this is now and so much fun.

I did get everyone fed, served the dessert I had made, something different than what I was told to make. I had whipped up a cheesecake earlier, and covered it with fresh cherries in a sweet sauce. After serving everyone it was super quiet, the only noise from the forks scraping across the dessert plates. Even my employers were quiet, not doing much but getting the fork with the next bite to their mouth.

I cleaned up after they finished, got coffee for the ones wanting it, then returned to the kitchen to start cleaning up. There was very little noise coming from either the dining room or the living room so I had no idea what was happening. On the couple of trips to retrieve any leftover dirty dishes everyone was quiet as soon as I entered the room.

About an hour later I noticed several ladies heading for the front door, so I scurried to get their coats and purses. As each lady took their things from me I was hugged, kissed on the cheek and thanked for a wonderful evening and some delicious food. I began to suspect something as every one of her guests did the same to me. After all had left I returned to my clean up loading the dishwasher and washing the pots and pans by hand. I had just finished wiping down the counters when my employers came into the kitchen. They sat at the kitchen bar pointing to a seat between them for me to sit at.

Ms. Haverty started it out asking me how much I would charge for what I did this afternoon and tonight. Jokingly I asked if putting up with one of my employers roving hands was also to be figured in. Jennifer went red in the face as her mom looked at her sternly.

“Since you have been so good to me and bought me some nice uniforms and shoes that hurt like hell to wear, there is no charge for today. Maybe if we do this again if I am included in the planning stage things might be easier for all of us.”

“Well for a certain individual I am starting up my domestic help business up again. One employee only, with the one with the roving hands to oversee the operation of that entity. We have decided to charge thirty dollars an hour that is from the time you leave your house till you return.”

“Now for the interesting part, Tessie is already booked up for five days a week for the next six months, several of the ladies planning on more doings as soon as they are finalized I am sure you will not have any time for yourself after all of this is put on paper.

I have insisted on a day of pampering each week at the salon, for that there will be no discussion. All of the fees are yours, the business end just so that I can manage the collection of your fees. I will also make sure that your every wish is handled by that dead beat you married, roving hands or not. So Tessis, I need a decision, a simple yes will be sufficient for now, the proper forms can be handled later.”

I got up, looked at her mom and said yes, then turned and kissed Jennifer hard making sure her lipstick is messed up good. “Now if you will excuse me I need to finish this job, otherwise I will not get paid for this evening.”

I walked over and started the dishwasher and put the couple of dishes of leftovers in the refrigerator. Meanwhile Jennifer had grabbed my hand and was trying to lead me upstairs, mumbling about a certain maid needing the benefit of her roving hands. In my maid quarters I was undressed and seen to, never did get any sleep that night, not that I am complaining. Come to think of it I never got fed either.

It all started with the words Goody A New Maid.

2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Tina, An Agreement On My Hair

I had just returned from a friend’s house and was greeted by my Mom at the front door. I immediately went into self-preservation mode as the look on her face meant she was in no mood to be manipulated by her good for nothing son.

I made good grades in school, didn’t get into any trouble and seemed to be well liked by some of my classmates, but apparently still not good enough for Mom by the expression on her face. I briefly wondered what I did this time, from the look on her face it must be earth shattering.

The getting into trouble part will never happen, since Mom is the head of the detective division of the state police force. I imagine a call about me doing something seriously wrong would result in grounding for life, if I could escape with something so menial.

I am eighteen, well, will be in a few days, and I can remember being spanked just a couple of months ago. I had promised a neighbor to help her out, and got involved with my buddies and forgot completely about it.

Believe me I will not forget something like that again, it was a week before I could sit comfortably again. The bad part was that I had to bend over her lap voluntarily, then lay there as she lowered my jeans and shorts, leaving my ass naked and vulnerable. When she finished it was red, and hot, her hand rubbing over the red marks making me aware of them that much more.

Anyway Mom had that look again, when she pointed to my hair I knew it would be bad. She allows me to have long hair, but insists on me taking care of it, it is to be brushed daily and kept off my face, usually in a ponytail or bun.

Simple enough, even I should be able to handle those few rules. I prefer the ponytail though Mom when she gets after me likes to do it in a bun, then attach a girly ribbon around it to make it easily noticed. We have had a discussion about my hair quite often. I, of course, promise to take care of it, then quickly forget about doing anything besides putting it into a ponytail.

She has me turn around, releases my ponytail and starts brushing my hair. The knots are everywhere and I wince as she pulls them out with the brush. She asks me if I remember the original request for me to be allowed to grow my hair long. I nod, then try to remember exactly what was said.

Mom reaches over to the table and hits play on her cell phone. Oh Gawd! She had recorded my begging to let me have longer hair. I listen as the recording plays and then swallow hard as she lists her requirements to let me do it. Repeated failure to do as she has requested, will be handled by my Mother, with no recourse left on my part.

She informed me that this is the twentieth failure on my part to do as she has requested. She finished brushing my hair and hands me a piece of paper with a salon’s name and an appointment time written on it. “You will go there and they will correct your deficiencies. Since you cannot be trusted to do this yourself you have twice weekly appointments, that way I can be assured that your hair will always be nice and properly taken care of. It will be properly coiffed every time you go to the salon.

“Yes, I said coiffed, since it is obvious that to continue having your hair styled in a masculine way will not work anymore. So you have essentially joined the female gender. Of course, you can still wear male clothes if you like, but with a curly up do and makeup, plus pierced ears it might be easier on you if you dress according to your new gender.”

“This now includes school, so you will have to explain to your friends your situation. The salon is within walking distance, so I suggest you get going to be sure you’re on time for your appointment.” I looked at her with that sorrowful look, hoping for some slack, but none was to be had.

To remove temptation hand me your car keys, I will keep them safe until you get settled in your new persona. Now be off, I am anxious to see how my new daughter turns out so don’t dawdle. I got a kiss on the forehead, her usual, and a huge smile. She had turned my desire to have long hair against me, now I am doomed in more than one way. I did do it to myself, but surely she could have thought of something different to make her point without turning me into her daughter.

On the fairly long walk to the salon, I tried to think of all the things they could do to my hair to make me even more miserable. Then I suddenly remembered that I had to walk home after the appointment, probably looking quite female for all to see. I knew failure to use the appointment was a death sentence, not physically dead, but probably wishing I was after she gets through with her retribution for my willful disobedience.

As I walked up to the salon door, I looked through the window, way too many fantastic looking females the only thing I could see. I told the receptionist that I was here for my appointment and was soon being led to a private room at the side of the salon.

My stylist’s name was Jennifer, way too enthused and bubbly for me. She had me sign some papers, I didn’t bother reading them, I am sure Mom has arranged all of this right down to the nth detail. My task is just to obey and suffer the end results.

She removed my shirt and placed a cape over my upper body. The chair I was in was leaned back and my hair was shampooed and conditioned. She seemed to use many different products, checking my hair after each treatment. Finally she was satisfied and ran a comb through my hair to make sure she had got all the tangles removed.

Then she pushed a cart next to me, swatches of longer hair in the same color as mine was laid across the top of the cart. Another stylist joined her and two hours later they had glued in hundreds of twenty-four inch extensions to my longish locks. The extensions were at least twelve inches longer than my own hair, plus the added mass made my hair look fuller. After adding all the swatches of hair, then she started cutting my hair giving me a layered look.

Just adding the length and the cut made me look so feminine, even without makeup I looked like a young coed. The image in the mirror in front of me was so disturbing, I tried not to look preferring to focus my eyes on my lap, but every once in a while I would look up and let out another huge sigh.

Next my hair was wound on curlers, apparently I will be a high maintenance female, same as Mom. She has twice weekly salon appointments too, to keep her style fresh and beautiful. She seems to enjoy her salon time, I am not so sure that I will be able to say the same thing about my time at the salon. In a way I was fascinated at my changing looks, my male look quickly fading away as the longer hair, the new cut and now the soon to be curls were changing the way people would look at me.

The fascination was quickly forgotten, as I now faced life as a female. I wondered how my friends would react, I am sure I will be kidded a lot, too good of an opportunity to let pass by. Then school as a female, a new and very frightening nightmare that will have to be faced and soon.

If only I had listened to Mom and taken care of my hair, this would not be happening to me now. I did briefly think that if I had just refused to go to the salon I might have fared better, but then my sore red butt came to mind, realizing that any punishment for not doing as she asks would probably be worse than a spanking.

The makeup was not extreme, it heightened my female features, but was not overdone or extremely obvious. I looked like a young female, the lipstick was a light pink and the mascara was visible but not caked on. She had used eyeliner to accent my eyes and some blush on my cheeks. As Jennifer was telling me about everything I found out that the cream she used on my face before the makeup would stop any further hair growth with one more application. I did not see myself ever having a beard, but now I was one step closer to that eventuality.

Two pops and my ears were pierced, a pair of dangle earrings were put in the holes. Since the holes were lasered in, I would not need to worry about them getting infected or closing up later.

The curlers were removed and I let out a huge sigh, after brushing the style lightly there was no doubt about the gender of the person under the curls. The style was current, a lot of the females in school wearing a similar style. Lots of curls laying on my shoulders, with long curly bangs that were swept to one side of my face.

My shirt was returned to me and I signed for the services that had been rendered. On my way out I wandered through the clothing section looking at the feminine styles that I might soon be wearing. Every mirror I passed confirmed my new feminine appearance, the male clothes I was presently wearing looking so out of place now.

I started the long walk home, the distance now seemed to be miles, since I was now quite obvious, whereas before I was just a male out for a stroll. I was super conscious of everyone looking at me, fearing that at any minute I would be singled out as a weirdo or worse since my head was so female and my body was so male. I almost made it home. I had made it seven blocks with only another three blocks to go before my world came crashing down around me.

As I was walking down the street, I head a girlish squeal and Tiffany a friend from high school came running out to me. I was hugged and led back to her house, although I was doing everything I could to get loose and make it to the safety of my own home. When she got me inside her house, I gave up.

She obviously was just as strong as me, since she got me through her front door in one jerk. She took the time to appraise my looks, touching my hair and running her fingers through my new longer locks. Finally with her appraisal completed she wanted to know all the juicy particulars.

I was again dragged where she wanted me to be, this time her room the destination. With a brief stop at her kitchen for some pop and an introduction to her Mom. I got some funny looks from her Mom, I am sure a phone call to my Mom was imminent. Tiffany’s Mom and my Mom were friends serving on the PTA together when we were younger.

She pushed me down on her bed, then stared at me waiting for me to dish out all the juicy tidbits. It took me about thirty minutes to tell her what happened and Mom’s way to handle my failure to do as I had agreed. I received several giggles, but she listened carefully and did not miss a single word I said. When I got to the part about attending school this way, I was almost squeezed to death. I presume that is something she desired, but for what reason I haven’t the slightest idea.

Tiffany’s Mom appeared at the door, telling me that I needed to get home, someone impatiently waiting to be shown my finished look, and don’t dawdle. She did ask Tiffany if she would like to accompany me to my house. Well, that was decided in a heartbeat and soon I was being led down the stairs and out her front door.

I looked around once we got outside to see who else might be lurking around, I definitely didn’t need any more people to see me this way. Once we got to my house Mom was waiting for me on the front porch, hugs and then pushing me back so she could get a better look, the way things went for quite some time.

She greeted Tiffany with hugs and thanked her for seeing that her daughter Tina made it safely home. It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I was called Tina, then a few more to accept the fact that my male persona is now gone, probably never to return.

Ever since the salon I doubted my face was any color other than a bright red. I was embarrassed, a little humiliated and totally lost in this female world. I kind of liked how I looked now, but of course that information could never be shared with my Mother.

Mom had made some sandwiches and tea, so the three of us set down to consume a little nourishment. I was constantly told to slow down, take smaller bites and to sit properly in the chair. I was made to help clean up, although Tiffany did assist me so it would not take as long. I was told that helping in the kitchen was a new chore for me, so get used to it and plan on doing it at every meal.

Finally Tiffany and I made our escape to my room. Once I opened the door I knew that things were going to get worse, my room was now feminine and several new pieces of furniture had been added, mainly a vanity and an additional dresser. I ran to the closet and swung open the door. I collapsed on the floor, sobbing and barely able to breathe. All of my male clothes were gone, in fact, the closet was empty except for one lone dress.

Tiffany comforted me for a while, then took the time to examine the dress closer, even holding it up against me. She looked through the dresser finding a few pieces of feminine underwear and laid them on the bed. I was handed a pair of panties and told to undress and slide them up my legs. I held them with just two finger tips, fearful of what they would do to me if I put them on.

Of course, Tiffany was giggling away, at my reaction to the panties, suggesting that if I tried them on, I would then know what it was like in get into a girl’s panties, a fond wish of most males. I did not think her comment was very funny.

She helped me to take off my shirt and pants then pushed me to the bathroom. Her hand through the door wanted my boxers, once she had them she closed the door and waited on my bed. I stood there, looking in the mirror, my female image still there and just as feminine as when I left the salon.

After Tiffany cleared her throat for the umpteenth time I slipped on the panties and stepped out of the bathroom. I imagine I was bright red all over, her seeing me in just the panties was too much. I was lucky, junior was way too embarrassed to stick his head out, he stayed shriveled up, nestled in the crotch of the silky panties.

She hugged me closely, and tightly until I quit shaking. Then she slipped the dress over my head and adjusted it on my body. She did up the back zipper and I was now dressed as a female from head to toe, except for shoes. She turned me to face my new mirror on the back of my closet door, the image of a cute female reflecting back from the mirror.

Of course, Mom took that moment to enter my bedroom, then ran to me and literally squeezed the daylights out of me. She asked Tiffany to go to dinner with us, she had already cleared it with her Mom. Of course, Tiffany accepted but I am not sure why. Did she like me this way, or was she feeling sorry for me and wanting to help me get through this. Either way I could use all the support I could find to somehow deal with this new slice of life imposed on me.

I was nervous all through dinner, a steakhouse at the edge of town where we ended up at. Several of Tiffany’s friends came over to our table to talk, although none of them recognized the feminine me. I was sweating bullets when one would appear, hoping that I would be ignored. When they rejoined their family I let out a huge sigh, my heart returning to a somewhat normal heartbeat.

I was all smiles as we returned home, but the smile quickly disappeared as several of my male friends were waiting for me on the front porch. Mom did smirk, somehow I think she had something to do with this sudden appearance of my friends.

The guys were polite asking Tiffany to introduce me to them. I bit the bullet and told them it was me Brooke, if they had something to say do it. Greg the leader of the group asked if I might be available for the spring dance, the other two breaking out in laughter. Greg kept his composure asking if I might attend the dance with him. To make his point he gingerly took my hand and looked me square in the eyes and mouthed please.

The other guys quit their laughing, stepping back a little waiting for my response. Tiffany though answered for me that I would be delighted, suggesting maybe a movie soon to get to know each other a little better before the dance. Greg agreed, telling me that he would pick me up this Friday at seven, while I was staring at Tiffany and trying to get my hand loose from Greg’s. I got a kiss from Greg on the cheek, a surprise to everyone standing there watching the goings on, then he left taking the other two guys with him. I just stared at the departing figures my one hand rubbing my cheek where he kissed me.

I ran into the house, and up to my room, a mixture of fear and tears trying to make their appearance. I landed on my bed, as everything that had just happened seemed to finally reach my brain. I pounded my fist on the bed, the last time it being caught by Tiffany as she set down next to me.

She held that hand, squeezing it a few times to remind me that she was there. I scooted closer to her, just wanting somebody closer to me to made me feel better. It was quite a while before I was able to vocalize any thoughts, the first few words delivered with a strained voice and almost a stutter. I was so out of my element, all of this something I never expected to experience.

Mom had appeared briefly but Tiffany assured her that I was getting better, and that she would see that I made it down to the kitchen to talk shortly. A few minutes later Tiffany made me look at her, then proceeded to fix my makeup, then ran her fingers through my hair. I was dragged downstairs, not wanting to talk about any of this, but a pushy female friend thought differently.

I was soon at the kitchen table, Mom furnishing some drinks and a few cookies. I grabbed a cookie, my male comfort food, then another before Tiffany stopped my grabbing of cookies. She shook her head at me, so I put the last one back, a sorrowful look on my face. Mom and Tiff broke out in laughter at my look, but the cookie plate was removed out of my reach soon thereafter eliminating the temptation.

Mom did confess to asking the boys to come by, but she did not expect Greg’s reaction to me. Tiffany just smiled, you have the attention of one of the hottest boys at school, so get your act together, if nothing else he will keep anybody else from hassling you. Try a date with him, you might enjoy yourself, he is definitely infatuated with you, his eyes never leaving your face all the time he was here.

I looked over to Mom, I am sure she didn’t intend for me to embrace the female life, much less date a male. She smiled, it won’t kill you for one date, maybe you will learn something about being a female. After the date we will talk and see what you think. Now we have some shopping to do, you have nothing to wear for your first date. They both stood up and I was soon headed to the car, a shopping trip in my immediate future, for a dress no less.

I turned out to be a marathon shopping trip. Back to the salon first to explore everything they had, a lot of the things I noticed when leaving after having my hair done ended up in the pile of clothes that were for me. Then Mom had the audacity of making me pay for them out of my savings.

You were the one that got yourself in this pickle, so all of the expenses come out of your money. It might be better that you get a job as a female, that way at least you can pay for your twice weekly salon appointments. I just stared at her, she can’t do this to me, can she?

Tiffany and Mom found the perfect dress for me, I nodded my head in agreement but was far from sure it would be my choice of something to wear. It was figure hugging with a tight skirt only coming to mid thigh. I several times suggested a nice pair of pants and a sweater, much more what I had in mind if I ended up going on this date. Of course I was ignored, the two of them already looking ahead to a prom dress, several choices already catching their attention. The appropriate heels, were purchased since tennis shoes and the dress would not be a very good match.

Another thought then entered my befuddled mind, I now realized I had indeed caused the trouble myself, so now dressing as a female, going to school as a female and soon working as a female to pay for my clothing, makeup, and salon appointments made the punishment complete. If only I had taken care of my hair, a thought that would haunt me for months. At least, I hoped it will be only for a few months.

Thanks to Tiffany, school was not really a problem. She had texted everybody about my new appearance and hinted that Greg was now interested in me. That seemed to keep the jokes and teasing very minimal. After my first day at school I went to the grocery store with Mom since my car was still being impounded until I adapted to my new gender.

While there I saw a help wanted sign for a cashier, I filled out some forms and was interviewed. The lady customer service manager hired me and I now had a job to pay for my female clothes and salon appointments. Five days a week after school for four hours, filling in during their early evening rush after work.

On the way home I was really proud of myself, managing to handle what the fallout of me not living up to the agreement had caused. Tiffany and I became BFF’s, a couple of weeks later she also got a job at the grocery store, now we go to work together.

The date with Greg was alright, but I don’t think I will be looking for a male to make my female life complete. I never realized how many hands a male has, spending most of my time fending off advances. I did go to the dance with him, but I had a little talk with him beforehand informing him of my limits, if he wanted me to be a proper date for him. I think he got the idea, since his hands only wandered once during the evening at the dance. I did kiss him after the dance, a nice kiss but not passion filled.

I never did revert back to the masculine look completely, I do wear pants most of the time, but my closet has several dresses for special occasions. I do wear female lingerie all of the time, once converted to the silkiness, I am never going back to the rough and scratchy boxers and T-shirts.

As far as school is concerned I am listed as a female student, but have a separate dressing room for P.E. I still do attract a lot of male attention, as does my girlfriend Tiffany. We show no romantic interest in each other at school, but often spend the nights in one or the other of our beds.

As Tiffany was re-shaping my life she managed to talk me into another salon appointment for shaping my body. I regularly use the salon now for my hair, nails and makeup but never had used their body modifying treatments.

After eight hours of my body being sucked on and things hidden under a false vagina I was identical to Tiffany as far as a female figure was concerned. It pleased Tiffany immensely, her playing with her new play toys late into the night. I think our Moms approved of the changes, since my male apparatus was now unavailable for any thing sexual. We were trusted before this, but the appendage in question hid away is a much better solution.

I guess the changes were called for, I had indeed let my appearance suffer especially my hair. The resulting changes seemed to have improved my take on life. I am now a straight A student, and currently senior class president. Tiffany and I even volunteer at the local senior citizen home on Sunday, keeping them company and helping them do little things together.

I knew I would never ignore my appearance again, I know Mom well, she probably has contingency plans in place for when and if I goof up again. She need not worry, I have embraced the female life completely, my appearance now just as important to me as it is to her. It all started when I didn’t live up to the agreement, causing a profound change in Tina’s future.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl

Victoria, Ten Days Of Femininity

Ginger arrived home a little later than normal, excited because she had three new clients this afternoon as a result of the new promotion that the salon is running. She sat down in one of the wing back chairs in the living room when she got home, so she could remove her heels.

She is a stylist at the Turnabout Gurl Salon in town and has been with them since they opened six years ago. I love her uniform, the five inch heels and the retro hairdo that all of the stylists have my favorites. Her short lacy party dress, her uniform, especially capable of keeping my attention.

She likes working there, lots of interesting people to meet and perform her magic on and it is truly magic. Quite often a prize winner at beauty conventions after she graduated from cosmetology school, her skills are seldom matched by any of the other stylists. She specializes in hair styling, but since she holds a master cosmetologist’s license, she could do it all, even teaching.

“May I ask my darling husband-wife what is on the menu for dinner?”

“We have spaghetti with meatballs, broccoli, and a wilted lettuce-spinach salad. Dessert is rice pudding with fresh peaches in a cream sauce. I have a bottle of wine chilled for the madam, and carrot sticks with a delicious Parmesan ranch dressing for nibbles.”

Since she had the better job, it had been decided a long time ago that I would do most of the housework and cooking. My job had flexible hours, and the fact that I could work from home pretty much cinched the deal. Thus our different domestic arrangement, where I did all the housework and cooking.

Although most males would despise my actions, I am relatively happy with the arrangement. Since Ginger never liked anything connected with keeping a home, she adores the pampering she receives as chief breadwinner and female head of the household.

My job consisted of transcribing notes from corporate meetings. Some people call it data entry, others call it being a typist, but entering the data into a word processing program is the end result. I was trained in marketing, holding a master’s degree in fact. With the advent and advancement of the internet, there are less and less jobs available for a person with my skills.

In some of the larger population areas there are still a few specialty companies dealing with the marketing of a product, but, by and large, a client with a little internet savvy, could sit in front of a keyboard in China and instantaneously change the marketing or price of an item in the U.S. in minutes.

Since China manufactures most of what we buy and use, that is what a lot of those companies are doing to promote their product. One good thing did occur because of my studies, during college I honed my skills in typing and could type eighty to ninety words per minute with no mistakes. Since most of my present work is from tape recordings, I can do the work in a very short time.

In the end, it is a secretary’s job, but I can work the hours I want, and need not have to worry about getting the boss coffee. I have several regular customers, ones that I have done work for some time. I get a tape or shorthand notes and usually have three or four days to get all the work transcribed.

Since the companies I work for are larger businesses, payment is not a problem, a fact that is not shared by the smaller operations. I send the typed pages by mail. The word document goes electronically and for those, I have payment in my bank account the following business day.

I make a fair amount of money at my work, but Ginger in a good week can clear twice what I make, not including her tips. I have some regular customers that give me a modest base wage, and some weeks when the workload is extremely heavy I come real close to matching her take home pay.

I never take her for granted, always doing little extra things for her like foot massages, keeping up with her hand washables, and most of the grocery and clothes shopping. As a male I did observe and learn that a happy female is much easier to live with, hence my goal of keeping Ginger content and satisfied.

Only a couple of my friends know of the arrangement we share, both female, and both jealous of Ginger and her situation. I seem to have only female friends, never was able to connect with males even in school.

A week ago she had brought a flyer home about the Ten Days of Femininity promotion that the salon is running. Their intention is to get a more deeply committed customer base.

Originally the salon’s intention was to solely cater to the male that wished to explore their feminine side. Any beauty service the salon offers are available to either a female or male, no strings attached. The males are still in the majority, sixty-five percent of their business, but the female side is gaining and has been the most loyal.

The steady gain in female customers occurred when the females saw what the stylists were accomplishing with the male of the species, deciding they wanted those talents used to make them prettier. The promotion is devised to get a customer to experience more than just a manicure, a makeover, or a new hairstyle. Ten days of total immersion in the world of femininity, guaranteed to soothe the soul while bringing out the feminine female in anyone. The promotion is for both genders, but they hoped the male gender would take the most advantage of it.

Ginger had told me that the response is so good that Francine, the owner of the salon, is adding two more stylists and another manicurist to the staff at this location. Even though I performed a housewife’s role in life, I couldn’t see why a male or even a female would want to become extra girly, to become a slave to femininity in effect. I felt a woman should dress like one, but not necessarily embrace sculptured nails, lacy clothes, stiletto heels, and a full palette of makeup.

I did enjoy all of those traits on Ginger though, a feast for the eyes. I always made a point to meet Ginger at the door when she comes home from a day at work. Part to welcome her, part to gaze at my gorgeous wife, dressed seductively to drive me mad.

The Turnabout Gurl Salon’s male customers have always been in a class by themselves. They look normal, but their love of all things feminine is what makes them hard to understand. I know it is in every person’s makeup to be independent, to be different, and to not like the same things as their neighbor. To dress in the clothes of the opposite sex, wear makeup, and have their hair styled is just too far from the center line for me. I don’t have a problem with them doing it; I just don’t understand it.

Ginger and I have had this discussion many times in the last few months, but nothing has been resolved or cleared up. I still don’t understand the obsession for the male to become feminine and dainty. Then look at me, doing all the housework and cooking, essentially a stay at home wife, I should be talking about others.

Tonight the conversation moved back to the flyer as we ate the dinner I had prepared. She was telling me about several of her customers that are taking advantage of the special prices that are available when you signed up for the total package. I mentioned that the flyer maybe would be more beneficial to a female.

“All the individual steps influencing her look and making her beautiful and feeling pretty. Take the same male customer, and most of the treatments would be a waste of time. You can’t use feminizing treatments on a male and make him more feminine than his base persona.”

Ginger raised her eyebrow at that gem stumbling from my mouth, but let it pass. I should have let the conversation die a natural death, but have a mouth, must use it seemed to beckon me. I spouted the words that would come to haunt me.

“There was no way for the salon to make a male feminine, and then have him bask in that femininity.”

Well, she didn’t let that one pass. “Can I go ahead and sign you up for the promotion, that way you can show me and the salon how wrong we are?”

The second most stupid thing that came from my mouth rolled from my lips so easily.

“I will bet you that the salon cannot make a female out of me that adores his femininity.”

I told her they were good, but a male has a certain fundamental masculinity that can’t be camouflaged. Keep in mind these words were spoken by a stay at home house husband that took care of the house and cooked the meals. She was deep in thought, and I mistakenly thought she is trying to figure a way out of the bet, but turns out she is contemplating the terms of the wager instead.

With a big smile. “I will take that bet. If you turned out to be a Girly Gurl after the ten-day program, I want you to quit your job and be a full-time housewife and mother. However, if you are essentially unchanged after the treatments, I will give in to your wish to start a family and have the kids.”

That has been a wish of mine for several years. Wow, the stakes are high but well worth taking a chance. I knew that they couldn’t turn me into a girly gurl, so I was confident in my acceptance of the wager.

A sudden thought of who is going to judge the bet popped up. Ginger surprised me by suggesting my Mother since mom would never see that her son is anything other than a male, I agreed. It all happened too quickly though, I should have seen it coming but a male with his sights on a long wished for prize is usually blind to the real things going on around him.

To make it official, we jotted down our bet and terms thereof and then signed and dated the agreement. Ginger promptly went to the phone and called the salon. I listened as she made an appointment for the next morning, shocked that she is moving so fast. We had just signed on the bet and now I had an appointment for my first treatment tomorrow, I am presuming that Ginger is fairly confident in her wager, since she seems interested in pushing things right along.

When she had finished that call, she dialed my mother. I was frantically trying to get her attention keeping her from divulging all to my mom, but she laid it all out, two sentences into the conversation. I am floored this is not what I had in mind, but too late to do much about it now. From the sound of laughter in the background, mom must think it is pretty funny.

Mom and I have always been pretty close. Since Dad is away on business the majority of the time, and I am home being the housewife we go out shopping often, and usually have lunch at the same time.

She has often encouraged me to get a better job, then my present one, but leaves the subject alone most of the time. I think some of it might have to do with my housewife duties. Mom thinks I am a sweetheart for doing this, and acknowledges that I am very good at it, but maybe not a proper job or tasks for a male. Most regular males would never be caught dead doing household chores or cooking all the meals.

She and my wife are very close since Ginger’s mother died a few years back from cervical cancer. My Mom just welcomed her into the family, another daughter to fuss over and pester for grandchildren. They often spent Sundays shopping and eating out, typical mother-daughter interaction to pass the time away. Sundays are their day of being together since I have my manly duties that I perform on that day.

I am always excluded from these Sunday excursions since that is my day to keep the outside of the house ship shape. Mow the lawn, trim and prune the shrubs, and usually washing one if not both of our cars. I preferred it this way, the quietness for one, and the fact that all things sweaty and nasty could be handled in one day leaving the rest of the week for other mundane pursuits.

My mode of dress on Sunday is usually short shorts and a tank top. With my ponytail I am far from a macho male in looks, not girly, but also not masculine, more of an androgynous person.

I wondered if Ginger might try and influence Mom to win the bet. It is a possibility since they chum around more than in the past. Still I was a handsome man, one that could not be transformed into a girly gurl in such a short time span. I did get a flicker of realization that maybe I am becoming a little too confident for my own good. Alas, it is only a flicker. Tomorrow we will see if I can handle the onslaught.

While Ginger is using the internet, I am staring at some show on the TV. I have no idea what it is about, my mind on what might happen tomorrow at the salon. I wonder if Ginger is going to do all of my treatments, she is qualified, but I think I would rather have someone else do the actual procedures. For one thing, she would be having way too much fun if she got to do them all herself. I am sure she will delight in my squirming and humiliation though.

Tuesday Day One
I arrived at the salon, checked in with Julia at the reception desk and took a seat in their waiting area. She is looking through her appointment book, trying to find my name on the list, but having no luck. She asked me if the appointment is listed under another name, then asked me what service I want to have performed today.

With a blush coming to my cheeks, I responded that this is my first appointment in the Ten Days of Femininity promotion. Her smile said a lot about what she is thinking, a male for his first day into the world of femininity.

She found a name listed for the 8:30 time slot, then with a smile she told me that the appointment is under the name of Victoria. Ginger is getting into this with gusto transforming my male name of Victor to Victoria. I don’t think just changing my name will get her far, though. Julia took a phone call, then mouthed to me that she would take care of me in a minute.

The phone call took a little longer, as a customer wanted to know how soon she could get an appointment for a permanent. Julia had to check to see who could handle the customer. After she had found a stylist, the call was transferred so she could answer any questions about price and time involved. Julia took my hand and led me to a room at the back of the salon.

I had been to the salon several times to pick up Ginger, but to be here for the services made all the décor and smells more prominent. It feels like I am in a harem, a lone single male surrounded by beautiful females. Even the male customers this morning were looking very unmanly.

The salon smelled feminine, as smells of carnation, roses, stocks, and sweet pea filled the air and caressed the senses. Several times the flowery scent seemed to infiltrate my mind, caressing my senses to new levels of attention.

The Turnabout Gurl Salon oozed femininity, along with the flowery smell, the soft pastel colors of the walls, drapes, and pictures came together to form an atmosphere of tranquil bliss. Everywhere you looked the mirrors reflected images that reinforced the feminine aura. The framed portraits on the wall of their accomplishments made me very uncomfortable. If this is actual photos of their male customers, I might be in big trouble.

After entering the room, Julia told me to disrobe leaving my clothes on a chair in the corner. I was waiting to see if she is going to leave me alone while I disrobed, but she is not leaving. A stern look a minute later convinced me that I needed to comply. All of the technicians were dressed in outfits reminiscent of the fifties, including the big hair look, there is something about them that signifies a no-nonsense approach to life and Julia apparently is aware of that strength.

Julia had a pot of something that smelled hot, almost like a candle that has burned down, that she is stirring. She is preparing cloth strips to use. The strips are two inches wide by twelve inches long, of course in pink to match the décor of the place. I had a feeling that the preparations intended for me might imply some drastic changes for my body.

Whoever designed the place, is a stickler for detail, not leaving anything to chance, the stylist’s badges, for example, that are worn on the left breast in pink with deep red ink used in the printing. An image of pouty lips in the background with the logo emblazoned in front of it. Their logo, simply, if it is possible we will do it.

I had removed all my clothes except for my shorts, never a fan of boxers, shorts were just more comfortable to wear. Julia is still busy setting up, there not being a chair in the room where I could sit, and I am awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with my arms folded across my chest. She finished her preparations and told me to get up on the table after you remove your shorts. That said with a little more authority, as she looked at me waiting for me to comply.

She smiled as I removed the offending item, asking me if I was Ginger’s significant other. I did admit to being her S.O., blushing knowing full well that Julia probably knew about the circumstances leading me to be here. Julia is all business as she checked over the areas that would need treatment. The minute she rubbed the hair on my leg, I had a pretty good idea of what is to transpire, my body hair apparently being the target of today’s treatment.

She did a small test strip on my thigh, only a couple of inches to see how well that I would be able to tolerate the waxing. It hurt as she ripped the initial cloth strip from my leg, the first being the hardest to handle.

Julia offered me several choices to help with the pain, but after hearing of the methods, I decided that the insert for the mouth that I could bite down would be the best, plus it would whiten my teeth as well, that said with a twinkle of her eye. With that inserted in my mouth, I am finally ready to proceed, not really, but one way or the other I am sure that the result will be the removal of all my body hair.

I asked what areas are to be waxed, the words coming out more like someone mumbling; I guess she is also good at understanding what her customers are saying with something in their mouth. Her answer though surprised me, as she indicated that everything other than the hair on top of my head is to go.

Okay, that is not what I was expecting, but since I had declined to learn any details about the Ten Days of Femininity promotion I pretty much had to grin and bear it. When this all came up, and Ginger had asked me if I wanted details, I declined choosing to go into it blindly. If I knew what is coming, I would fret and worry to no avail, since my commitment to this whole program is real, it wouldn’t make any difference in the end.

Still, losing all my body hair on day one of the promotion, probably speaks volume of what will most likely happen later. I honestly didn’t worry before today, a little dread of what is coming maybe, but after finding out what the first day involved, maybe some rethinking might be necessary. Julia is adding a cloth strip to some freshly applied warm wax, brought all other thought to a halt. Then after rubbing it into the wax, that sharp tug bringing the wax and hair off in a most alarming way.

She had completed my legs and half way across my chest before the pain seemed to stabilize; you know the mind can only handle so much before it starts shutting down operations. Cloth after cloth removed with body hair, a definite casualty of the treatment. All this time, Julia has been having a conversation with me, although I have no idea what she has said or my replies, I might even have unwittingly volunteered for more torture, for all I know.

Julia did have a caring streak hid deep down in her psyche, although she is very reluctant to let its presence be known. She massaged some cream deep into the affected areas, the skin with the lack of hair had become super sensitive, goose pimples popping up everywhere through the reddened skin. I almost caught myself purring, the feeling so delightful, even though I knew she hadn’t completed the treatment.

No area is left undone, arms, legs, chest, back, neck, even my hands and the top of my feet, although it is a mystery while males seem to sprout hair from every follicle on their body, Julia made sure that at least temporarily it is denied for me.

The only area that stressed my ability to cope is my groin. I did ask why it is a target; surely no one is going to judge me on whether my pubic hair is there or not or in the proper shape. My significant other did have hers in a cute heart shape, but males tend not to notice the shape, just the area where it surrounds.

The question never is answered, the usual female habit of not acknowledging questions that are not pertinent to the overall purpose of the charade. My guess there is something more going on besides the promotion, but I am not to be privy to any of the details apparently.

For the main event today I am requested to move my body down further, so my feet are in some stirrups at the end of the table. Julia, reassuring me that she could perform a gynecological exam at the same time for no additional charge. I didn't appreciate her humor at the moment, especially with my feet in the stirrups and my butt half off the table. Julia did ask me for permission to put straps on my legs to secure them to the stirrups, but the smile she sported belied the attempt at concern.

As she strapped me in, applied the wax, then the cloth strips rubbed in the wax and feeling a sympathy for pregnant women, the last of my body hair is pulled from its comfortable follicles. In most instances somebody playing in the vicinity of my genitals leaves me trying to remain calm and not erect, today and maybe into the future this would not be a problem, since there is absolutely no activity present anywhere.

Not even, when she rubbed some cream on the area, a favorite of my member, the response is nil. He has shriveled up to nothing, retracting into my body as much as possible. Probably scared to show his face.

She did move on to my eyebrows, before she turned in her whip and boots, making short work of them as she ripped them all out. I knew Ginger had delicate arches above her eyes, but apparently Julia has other ideas about eyebrows. The same cream massaged into the stinging skin, as tears tried to escape my puffy eyes.

I am listening as Julia tells me that the cream they use did prevent hair regrowth permanently after repeated uses, a fact that would have been appreciated earlier in the day. Then how that would affect me, totally hairless and soon to be feminine and I was worried about being able to grow body hair in the future seems ridiculous. I would receive two follow-up appointments for hair removal, free of charge, did register briefly before my mind just gave up and shut down.

I became aware of Ginger standing over me, peering into my eyes, asking if I was now back in the land of the living. I tried to nod, feeling the different sensations all over my body, looking at the clothing, that wasn’t on my body a few minutes ago, to see what is different. I find myself dressed in a top and pants, but only after a closer examination did I see that they were not my clothes, at least, not the ones that I wore here to the salon.

The top is silk or something silky like the pants, both so soft and comfy, not something I had ever worn before. The feeling, though, is a big difference, the materials of my new clothes seeming to stimulate every square inch of my hairless body. Think of getting goose pimples on top of goose pimples, and that is how I felt, a few warning bells going off with regards to my mental functions as everything is starting to cycle down for another shutdown. Way too many feelings and sensations that my mind could not and would not handle.

Once again, lucid thoughts started through my mind’s circuits, definitely slower than normal, but at least, there were some activity. Sometimes when you wake after a more than realistic dream, the fuzziness seems to take forever to slowly clear up. That is what is happening in my mind, although the new sensations from all parts of my body are prominent, just too much sensory information at once.

Ginger tried again to reach through the fog and gain a foothold in my thoughts, this time, I can discern what she is saying. I was helped up to a sitting position then swung around where my feet were hanging over the edge of the table.

She had penciled in some eyebrows for me so that feature of my face would have representation. When I was shown my image in a mirror, the thin penciled arch, way above my eyes is there but looked lost when compared with the rest of my face. The brows did scream female, my face still had a small masculine edge to it, but it is small, very small.

I tried to say something to Ginger about this whole situation, but she had another customer and had to leave. With the roles reversed, I would have insisted that she go on with the entire promotion, but since she is in charge of my involvement in the promotion I am begging for a little sympathy.

If, after one day, the effects are this noticeable, ten days should indeed produce the feminine female promised in the ad. With Ginger otherwise occupied, I sighed, no reprieve would be coming, apparently the promotion will continue, and the femininity will eventually take its hold on me.

The time is now eleven-thirty, Julia has proclaimed me done for today, but confirming my continuing appointments every day at eight-thirty except Sunday for the duration of the program. I asked if I owed anything for the services, but she said that the full promotion has been paid for in advance, presumably by Ginger.

Ginger saw me getting ready to leave and came to give me a kiss before I left. When she finished with the kiss, I literally had to sit back down to regain my breath, although I did run my tongue around my mouth checking to see if any teeth are missing. She asked me to be a good wife and have dinner ready when she gets home, her arrival expected shortly after five. She giggled all the way back to her station; she is having too much fun with my involvement in this promotion.

Julia is nearby when Ginger finishes with the kiss, and I had promptly sat down on the chair. I am afraid that there will be no last minute parole for me, a smile on Julia’s face confirming that fact. Given a purse, with my wallet and keys inside, Julia tells me I am ready to go. One look at my pants seeing that the purse is necessary since where the pockets normally are, there is none.

I remembered my clothes and asked about them. Julia mentioning to me they were not worthy of my body, and so far out of fashion that no records remained of their manufacture. Bottom line, they threw them out. At this rate, my limited wardrobe might not last long. I departed the salon a lot lighter, feeling quite different from when I arrived. I drove home, although awareness of my surroundings is doubtful as I made the trek.

Now what to fix for dinner. We ate most of the spaghetti last night, so I had to come up with something new. I didn’t remember anything in the refrigerator or freezer so decided to grocery shop a little. That thought lasted all of a few seconds when I remembered my looks and the change of clothes. I looked in the rear-view mirror to see how bad it is, surprising myself as an image of a young woman stared back at me.

My hair is in a ponytail, and although my face lacked any makeup, the eyebrows had greatly enhanced my femininity. I figured that if I hurried through the store, my chance of discovery is minimal. I jotted a list of the things that I wanted, then looked in the purse that Julie had given me to carry my wallet. I usually used a debit card, but with the way, I am dressed my driver’s license would be of no help if the cashier requested identification. I decided to use the ATM since I didn’t have to use my driver’s license for that. Then use the cash from the ATM to pay for my groceries.

Happy with my plan, I got out of the car and headed into the store. First stop was the ATM and then on to my shopping. I picked up my items fairly quickly, including a rotisserie chicken to use for tonight’s supper. I steered my cart to the checkouts, finding a lane with no customers and placed my items on the conveyor. The cashier ran my purchases, then asked if I wanted paper or plastic. Oops, forgot the voice thing, in as discreet and soft voice that I could muster I told her plastic.

She smiled at me, but took my money and handed me my change. I was not sure if she had figured out that I was a male but suspected she might have made the connection. Off to the side I noticed a woman coming towards me, I instantly recognized her, and I am sure she had done the same with me. Susan is a next door neighbor, and one of my female friends. We often shop together, and when I don’t have work we share cups of coffee at each other's house. Now, what am I going to tell her about this?

“Hi, Susan what are you doing here.” She normally shops Wednesday, so I was not expecting to see her here. She had the biggest shit faced grin on her as she approached. No comment yet as she stared at me taking in my appearance and clothes.

“Coffee and some talk at Becky’s?” is her statement with the biggest smile peeking from behind her sunglasses. Becky’s is a coffee shop just down the street from the grocery store. I could see the giggle just below the surface, but that is all she said. I nodded my assent, and we went to our cars.

Pushing the cart to my car, I am suddenly aware of a bag boy running to help me with my groceries. Almost out of breath he placed my bags in the back seat, and I promptly left. The store had always taken pride in their customer service, and I am sure that an unattended female shopping with no help present had sent the bag boy into a panic. The fact that I am perceived to be that unattended female a blow to my ego.

It is three blocks to Becky’s, a small diner/coffee shop where we often had coffee when we were out. Susan had already parked and is waiting for me to get out of my car. All of this time I kept going over various stories to explain my appearance, but decided on the truth, since I am sure she will now be keeping an eye on me for further changes. We made our way to a back table, and our waitress headed our way with two cups of coffee.

Susan sipped her coffee, waiting for me to spill the beans. I finally started by telling her the bet that Ginger and I had made. Several times the giggling became contagious, with me joining in. Looking at it later, I obviously had a brain lapse when I agreed to the bet. Susan listened as I told her of today’s treatments, then wanted to know what some of the other treatments were going to be. When I told her I don’t know, she put both of her hands over mine and told me that Ginger just has to dye your hair blonde. I picked up on the reference immediately; she is probably right, there can’t be many with a lower I.Q. than me.

We talked some more after Susan made me promise to call every day to let her know my progress. Her last comment surprised me; she has always felt uncomfortable around me as a male, her main fear that Ginger would be jealous of our relationship since male/female friendships are rare. She feels that she can now relax since our relationship has migrated to a lesbian affair. As she said that she got up from the table laughing all the way to the cashier. Shaking my head I followed her out to the cars, hugs are exchanged, and I left for home.

The drive home found me thinking about what Susan had said. I need to ask Ginger about my female friends, I don’t think she is jealous of them, but hadn’t thought about it that way. I parked in the garage and carried the shopping into the kitchen. I slipped the chicken into the oven to keep it warm and then threw together a salad to accompany it. I had bought a Dutch Apple Pie, a favorite of Gingers for dessert.

Tomorrow I will have to figure out something else to be able to handle dinner as I am being made more feminine. One day in and the complications start adding up, ones that I had never envisioned occurring. Why I didn’t see any of this as I opened my mouth I will never know. The low IQ is a definite reality now.

Dinner went off without a hitch, as we both eagerly consumed the meal. I did ask Ginger about my female friends, she just shrugged and told me that I needn’t ever worry about her being jealous, for she has the best spouse there is, loving, caring and faithful. Besides, if you ever cheat on me, I will cut your thingy off and feed it to you. There were too many giggles at that statement; I doubted that she would do such a thing. Well, I am not so sure now.

After cleaning up, I headed to my office, as I had some work to do so that I could meet tomorrow’s deadline. I finished at midnight since there is quite a bit of work to transcribe. The one report alone is seventy-five pages long. I finally made it to bed, but my newly sensitive skin kept me awake for several hours.

When I awoke later in the evening to use the bathroom, I found Ginger cuddled to my back with her hands on my breasts, although my breasts are unlike hers, the new sensations as she moved her hands over my chest is awesome. Sleep did finally consume me again after I returned from peeing, at least for a brief period of time.

Wednesday Day Two
Getting up at seven for my appointment is harder than usual, reasons being, one the time I managed to get to sleep last night, and two I am just not used to being awake and civil before nine A.M. In most cases being civil has the more relevance. In the realm of being a morning person, my name is listed in the column of persons to be aware of at all costs.

Today is no different, irritable, not able to think, on edge, worried about what is coming and if it would have as much effect on me as yesterday. Originally I didn’t want to know what is coming so that I would not worry, but after yesterday, the changes are so profound, that I feared what might be on tap for today.

Ginger had already left for work after sneaking another passionate kiss from me, then vanishing before I could say anything or catch her to retaliate. As she is heading out the bedroom door, she told me to wear another one of my funky male outfits, as there would be a different set of clothes for me to wear home. I am looking in the bedroom closet at my limited male apparel, trying to find something comfortable but maybe something I could live without if it disappeared.

As a male I am not a clothes horse, just satisfied for the bare minimum to maintain my look and appearance. I think I only owned six pairs of pants, two pairs of shorts, and about a dozen shirts, several sleeveless for yard work and all the rest short sleeve. The sports coat I had not worn for some time since it is mainly for interviews or church. I don’t remember wearing it in the last six months. Oh, I forgot to mention that I owned a dress shirt and two ties if that makes any difference, perception wise.

My favorite yellow sweatshirt is among the missing. I presumed that it was another causality of the bet, never to see the light of day, maybe, in this case, it is for the better since it is old and well worn, almost tattered to pieces in a couple of spots. I settled for a blue cable knit sweater to wear with a light tan pair of Dockers. I never thought to look to see if any other favorites or essentials in my male wardrobe are missing in action.

I laid them on the bed and went to the drawer where my underwear had been put, deciding to wear a pair that I am not fond of so that when they vanished there would be no great loss. Imagine my surprise when I opened the drawer and found it empty, and then upon closer scrutiny a note telling me to borrow a pair of her panties one drawer up. I opened her drawer, looking to see what is available.

The pair I wore home yesterday is a microfiber creation in a bikini cut, bright blue and trimmed with more lace then logically possible to add to the panties. They had felt so good as I twisted and turned to savor the feelings that found their way to my mind. In fact, several times last night Ginger had told me to sit still, but after watching me for a while, she saw what I was doing. A short while later she asked if I am enjoying the eroticism of female clothes. I nodded, with one more little squirm to savor the feeling just one last time. But that was last night, and today is another totally different situation.

I found a light pink bikini style, again loaded with lace, the white lace making for a two tone effect. As I pulled them up to my crotch, they felt delicious. Two days, and I am a lingerie fanatic, obsessed with how they feel and look. I did, however, manage to get the Dockers and sweater on, actually a big letdown from the feelings of yesterday’s silky clothes.

I hope they give me something silkier than these Dockers to wear later. I left off the socks, better to feel the sensations of the clothes, and then shoved my feet into an old pair of sneakers, although the ladies flats that were given me to wear yesterday did have its merits. I grabbed my purse, a bottle of water and headed for the garage. Yesterday on the way home the purse was a necessary evil since my clothes are female, but today the purse didn’t fit at all since I am in male mode. Later, it most likely will be needed and proper.

That last statement subject to misconception. I had on male clothes, but my look is still leaning to the female side. Those eyebrows that are now missing really changing the look of my face. Looking in the bathroom mirror, a little lipstick and I could easily pass as a female. On my way out, a glance at the hall clock showed that I had about fifteen minutes to spare.

I slid into the driver’s seat, started the car, and then backed out, content to finally be on my way to the salon. I entered the salon at eight-fifteen to be greeted by a smiling Ginger. I know that she is enjoying this way more than she should, but obviously happy that it is happening to me and secretly enjoying the stress that I am enduring. I am told to take a seat, and Julia would be with me in a few minutes. Ginger obviously happy, whatever is on the schedule for Wednesday day 2, I am sure to dislike.

Sure enough, three minutes later Julia came to get me, excited to see me again. I was led to a different room, and upon entering found it very sparse in the furniture department. Two chairs, along the wall and numerous ropes and pulleys hanging from the ceiling and a small table at the back of the room with a fairly large motor on it with two attached cables leading to the center of the room.

The corset in a box on one of the counters looked suspicious. It is ecru in color and looked very formidable in its construction. For one thing it was so long, at least, eighteen inches in length, but the worst part of it seemed to be its stiffness. I did back up several steps placing a little more distance between me and the corset. I doubt the additional distance will save me, but you can always hope.

Sure enough, it is intended for me, and Julia is the one to see that the corset and I become one. The usual request for removing all my clothes is followed by a close inspection of my body; I started to point out that she had ripped out all my hair yesterday, and there is no way that any hair would be able to show its presence above my skin line in the near future. Again I had tried to leave the panties on, but soon she is removing them, telling me that all means just that. She lowered two of the ropes from the ceiling with rings attached and advised me to grab hold of them and hang on.

Ginger took that as a sign to show up, and as Julia is fiddling with the rings, Ginger decided to check to see if I could breathe properly. Somehow she had honed her skills in the kissing department lately to a professional level. As I am trying to hang on, get my breath as Ginger is attacking my mouth, and stay balanced, I heard two clicks as something is locked around my wrists. I tried to let go and found my wrist secured to the ring I had been holding, and I could not get loose.

A few moments later Julia had lowered my hands to shoulder level, and I saw my hands were locked to the rings with a set of padded handcuffs. I opened my mouth to protest, but another kiss smothered that effort. As she broke the kiss, she whispered in my ear that I should be a good girl, so Julia can get you into this corset for the day. With a Cheshire Cat grin, she waltzed out and back to her work. Julia leaned over and secured me to a pole coming up from the middle of the floor. That will hold your body still as the machine tightens the laces.

Next, the machine on the wall had its two ropes brought over to me and the ends slipped around my neck. Now I am worried, I mumbled to Julia that I would gladly consent to be laced into the corset, she needn’t threaten me to get her way. She glanced at me, then broke into laughter over my predicament and thoughts, but did not remove the ropes from my neck.

The corset is next, her unfolding the corset and sliding it around my waist, then hooking up the front busk. It was snug around me, maybe this won’t be too bad. Walking in front of me, she adjusted how it fit my hairless body a couple of times until she is happy with the placement. Behind me again, she started on the laces pulling out the slack, checking every so often to make sure the corset is in the proper position.

One last time in front of me, checking the busk then reached into the cups of the corset to grab hold of some of my flesh and pull sharply up. This action left some of my superfluous skin and tissue in the cups of the corset, albeit like small breasts.

Moving back to the laces of the corset she took out the rest of the slack, then hooked ends of the laces to the cables that had been around my neck, starting the machine so that it could tighten the laces on the corset. Thankfully she removed my neck from the cables before she did so. I just stood there as all of this is happening, fascinated in a way, but soon aware that I am the target of all of this and soon to be the one gasping for breath.

I squeezed in a word before Julia told me that yes, it is necessary, and two I needed to be quiet, or it will become necessary to gag me so that I would not disturb the other customers. I let out a big sigh, really hoping that I would wake up, and this was all a dream. The sigh didn’t help as the machine took that opportunity to start its tightening of the laces. Julia gave me a smile and then pushed the button to raise my hands over my head again, a maneuver that stretched my body, causing the machine to pull out the extra slack that is now evident.

Every once in a while, the machine would go into a rest cycle for fifteen or twenty minutes before it resumed its ministrations. The hoist twice lifted my hands a little higher until I could barely touch my toes to the floor. The machine removed the slack, thus slimming my figure some more.

Finally, around eleven Julia told me that I would be lowered for a few moments to let blood back into my arms and hands, then given something to drink. The hoist lowered me very slowly until my feet were flat on the floor.

I immediately noticed the tightness increase within the corset; I guess all of that stretched out tissue was trying to find somewhere to fit into, the corset allowing none of that. Among other things I am feeling very faint, breathing is strained, and my mind is getting fuzzy. Julia squirted some water into my mouth, the feeling of it sliding down my throat a welcome relief. Then the sudden discomfort as the blood returning to my hands and arms kicked in, leaving me feeling just about as bad as one person could feel.

I protested as she hit the button to raise my arms again, but with them firmly attached to the rings my only choice is to go with the flow, and that is up. It did feel good for a minute as my body stretched out again, letting all that tissue find a temporary refuge. The machine started tightening again making that relief short-lived. Thirty minutes elapsed, when after the machine grabbed that last bit of slackness and carried it away. Julia pronounced the task complete, the two edges of the corset finally meeting at the center of my back.

In celebration of that fact, she showed me two locks that she is going to use to keep the corset on me; I saw no celebration in any of this other than the fact that the machine was not attached to my body any longer. I did hear the locks as she clicked them shut securing the corset to my body. She and Ginger are the only ones with keys, a necessary fact until the corset has done its work. I was told to be proud, that five inches had been trimmed off my waist, making my figure quite feminine in appearance.

The real shock is when I glanced down at my new slimmer figure and noticed that the cups on the corset are now overflowing with tissue. Just where that tissue came from a mystery. A male just does not grow breasts in a couple of hours, well at least this male doesn’t. Julia had moved a mirror into the room, and when I looked at my reflection, I also noticed hips that I never had before, along with the newly formed breasts.

Julia is cracking up as my eyes darted from my hips to my breasts, trying to make sense out of this. I managed to get how out of my mouth, as I am pointing to my new assets. Julia calmly told me that the corset pushed fat or loose tissue either to the breasts or the hips since that is the only option for the fat.

Hence my new breasts and hips, definitely nice enough for a female to be proud of having. I am not sure that they are something I would want to be proud of, but I guess I am. Along with my new slimmer waist. The reflection in the mirror screamed female from any angle, so now Victoria is an entity in real life, not just a fantasy.

Ginger came in a while later, checking on my progress, and gasped out loud. Scanned with eager eyes taking in my new enhancements with a professional scrutiny not matched by many. Unfortunately, I was still standing up since that is the one and the only position that offered any comfort. I tried sitting once I was released, but my torso screamed in protest at any attempt to bend at the waist. I was wondering how I would get home tonight since I could not sit to drive my car, and I am certainly not going to walk the three miles to the house.

After the corset session, I am given clothes to wear, an almost see through blouse in ecru to match my corset and a light brown skirt. A skirt, the second day and apparently it is their intention that I am going to wear this skirt home. Looking in the mirror, the skirt and blouse looked good on my new and enhanced figure, but a certain part of me is trying to process the new clothing item while suffering the onslaught of feelings and sensations relayed to my mind. The air flow around my legs a new and unpleasant feeling to get used to for me.

Since it is early, Julia suggested that I hang around the salon until the corset relented in its grip on me some. It isn’t that the corset would relax, it was that my flab decided to be happy where it ended up. So I quietly spent the next two hours wandering around the salon watching the stylists perform their miracles. It is amazing how a new hairstyle or a little makeup can change the appearance of a person from the run of the mill to something special and exotic.

The jiggling of the flabby tissue in the cups of the corset is one of those new sensations. The constant movement of my new boobs as I walked around is beginning to arouse feelings in that area. The rubbing of the nipples on the corset cup stimulating me when there shouldn’t be any feeling at all. The motion and tingles are quite distracting to me.

One of their customers, in particular, drew my attention. He is similar in build and height to me but had the most gorgeous head of hair that I had seen in a long time. The stylist is wrapping her (definitely doesn’t look like a male) hair in curlers and placed under a dryer. After her hair is dry, the curlers are removed, and the curls are drawn out a little then sprayed with hair spray. The hairstyle converted that male into one hot babe, a far cry from her initial appearance. I wonder if that style is in my future, only time will tell.

Since I couldn’t sit, the standing and walking did help the corset to settle, allowing me to sit finally for a brief interval. I decided that I probably could now handle the drive home, telling Ginger that I am on my way. The real challenge is not being able to cope with the restrictions of the corset, but of my feminine clothing. The choices seemed to scream girl, feminine girl, but an awareness of having no other choice came bounding into my mind and I resolved to handle it the best that I could.

Another passionate kiss, and I headed off. It is an effort to get my body in the car, with a hiatus of at least ten minutes as I attempted to regain my breath. It took me five minutes to get my skirt situated under me. I drove much slower but did make my destination at a little after four in the afternoon. I had decided to order a pizza for tonight, not wanting to attempt to cook something with the corset squeezing the life out of me. I doubted if I would be eating much, the corset restricting my waist and stomach severally.

I forgot how I am dressed, and the delivery man got an eyeful but thanked me for the order. I am referred to in the feminine gender in all his interactions with me, the lack of eyebrows seeming to convince him of my femininity, but I am sure that the short skirt and transparent blouse showing off the corset is the real determining factor. Since his eyes never left my boobs, I tend to think that the corset isn’t the center of his interest, but the flesh within my corset cups the more likely target.

Susan called me since she had not heard from me yet, wanting to know what was done to me today. I told her about the corset; she wanted to see me in it, but her hubby is taking her out to dinner tonight. I told her not to worry, the corset secured with locks, and I am sure that it will be a staple for quite some time. It is hard to ignore her giggling, I am sure she is trying to keep it under control, but losing the battle big time.

Ginger arrived a little past six tonight and grabbed a piece of pizza and mauled me while I tried to get her to listen to reason. Her hands are all over me, as she rubbed my new slender waist but wandered to my breasts inevitably.

I was trying to convince her that it is not necessary to convert me to a female, that I realize my mistake, feminization of my body an easy task. Of course, she isn’t listening and after a couple of pieces of pizza, she decided that it is time to go to bed. It is early, but the corset is still very uncomfortable, and I am hoping that lying flat would help the discomfort.

She helped me to undress, with everything left on the floor. With the corset still locked onto my body, she deemed me ready for her activity. She then spent the next hour kissing and fondling everything of mine that she could. I gave up with the begging, with her this enamored with my new body she would not listen to any attempts to stop the promotion. I reconciled myself to eight more days of femininity treatments; I just hope that there is a little piece of my masculine self, left after the last treatment.

Thursday Day Three
Getting up at an ungodly hour so that I can get dressed to make my Thursday 8:30 appointment is crazy, I shiver when I think how it will be in a few days when a lot more of the changes are present. This is only day 3 of the promotion. The biggest problem last night was that damn corset, squeezing the life out of me 24/7 it took forever to be finally able to rest without struggling for breath. Ginger had told me that the body would adjust to it gradually, allowing me greater freedom of movement and breathing, but for most of the night, I just figured she was lying to me to keep down my protests.

Somewhere around three A.M., my body finally gave up and accepted the fact that it would not get out of this contraption for the foreseeable future. Since the corset did far more than reduce my waist, people saw a female figure, and not a male anymore. The pushed up tissue to my chest and hips making that female figure real. Add into that image no eyebrows; the result is that I am mistaken as a woman several times as I made my way to the salon that morning.

Several times last night and a couple of times this morning I caught myself with my hands on my breasts. The tissue gathered together in mounds under the corset cups looked quite appealing. I remembered playing with Ginger’s breasts quite often and the pleasure that those items gave Ginger and me. So far I have been able to catch myself before things get carried away, the tightness of the cups to my chest the best deterrent. I could get a hand in between the cup and my chest, but couldn’t do much with it after it is there.

Time is slipping by way too fast, and I quickly dressed in another male outfit although the material of the shirt was stretched to the limit as it attempted to cover my breasts. I knew I looked ridiculous in it, but since I was told again today to wear male clothes to the salon that is what I wore. The pants were a real effort to get them over my expanded hips, as I remembered Ginger struggling into some of her pants, her desire for that painted on look a driving force. My pants definitely looked painted on today, and it took quite a struggle to get them on, I just needed some clothing to hide all the curves and bumps of the body.

Finally clothed, I slipped on a pair of sneakers, the last pair of casual shoes in my male wardrobe. It was still an effort to sit in the car, but not nearly as bad as last night. I was several minutes late, as traffic this morning is terrible. Ginger greeted me at the reception desk, and I received a passionate kiss. The kisses are one of the few things that helped offset the feminine things that are happening to me. I had made the stupid bet, however, and although it is something that I hoped to be able to avoid or postpone, things were looking like I would have to go through with the entire promotion.

If I hadn’t seen the promotion from Ginger’s Salon, I might not have made an ass of myself and find myself in this predicament. Funny what hindsight shows when looked at with an objective viewpoint. The fact that how one dresses affects the personality of that individual. Change the figure; the clothing choices change to fit the figure. If the promotion did as the salon intended, I would be changed significantly over the next ten days. The light had come on, there were still a few functioning brain cells in my mind, but sadly too late to do me any good.

Today, I would have somebody new since a very statuesque young woman is making her way to the reception area. Michelle introduces herself, a five-foot-eleven-inch blonde, who reaches for my hand and leads me to another private room at the back of the salon. The difference in height between her regal height and my lowly existence some five inches. Michelle is quite attractive, but in a unique way, no doubt a woman her demeanor feminine, her movements so effortless, her accessories, namely jewelry, are awesome. I know that word is over-used these days, but there are no words sufficient to describe the aura that surrounds Michelle.

She, like the others had to have me remove all my clothes, the only item of clothing that I was allowed to retain is the panties. Since I am in them as much as Ginger these days, I looked at them as mine and not hers. I still received chills as I pulled a fresh pair up my legs this morning. The good news that she would help remove my corset for a while, although I was pre-warned that Julia would cinch me into it again as soon as she finished with me.

It was such a relief to be out of the corset for a few moments, as I ran my hands up and down the skin rubbing a little life back into it. As I stared down at my body without the corset, I noticed the tissue still congregated in the breast area just not shaped like a normal breast. The same went for the hip area, with the corresponding reduction of my waist still apparent. All of this after only one day, imagine what ten days of the corset could accomplish.

Michelle did offer me a silk robe that came to mid-thigh for me to slip on. She look closely at my hands, my ears, and apparently my toes. That part is very unusual; I knew of very little feminine done to toes except nail polish.

Then she pulls out of a drawer, a large tray of jewelry. In this particular tray, all the items were gold or more likely gold plated since real gold jewelry would be quite expensive. She reached for one of my hands, laying it palm down on her table.

She looked through the tray selecting several rings to try on, apparently she already had in mind what I needed. She found two that were the right size; it is apparent that I am to receive an engagement ring plus a wedding band. Ginger and I had never decided on a ring for me, we looked but since we didn’t find something appropriate we never purchased one for me.

The engagement ring features a single stone, diamond or cubic zirconia, with matching small rubies around the single stone. The gold filigree design behind the stones, very flattering to the grouping. The matching wedding band has the same filigree design etched into the gold finish with a ruby red color in the deepest part of the grooves.

Then she looked through the selections and pulled out a bracelet for me to try on. It was a fitted bracelet with diamonds and rubies in the design. It was loose, but only slightly as the bracelet adorned my wrist. It would not slip off unless the catch is released.

So far, I could live with this, the rings and the bracelet changing the appearance of my arm. It no longer looked like a male arm, with the jewelry now it is a ladies feminine arm. Michelle quickly moved over to the other arm, adding another ring that is similar in design but suitably smaller and delicate.

After another browse through the tray, she found a necklace on a gorgeous chain that she slipped around my neck. The chain is fairly long, placing the diamond and ruby pendant in the center of my new cleavage. The gold chain a link design that added to the visual appeal of the necklace.

I thought she was going to go to my ears next, but instead, she placed one of my feet in her lap and browsed through the tray again. She found and removed two rings slipping one of them on my second toe. Although the rings were fairly blah, the small stones of diamond and ruby made them stand out. It fitted snugly about half way between the end of my toe and the base. She then did the same to the other foot, but as I was removing my foot she told me to wait, and she attached an anklet around my leg. The whole effect is amazing as those three small pieces of jewelry changed the appearance of my legs and feet.

I knew the ears were next since there were not any places left that women wear jewelry on or in. Once more I am wrong as she leaned my chair back helping me to lean back. She massaged my belly button a little and then used several applications of a very strong disinfectant to cleanse the area thoroughly. She found a diamond and ruby dangling belly ring and held it up to see how it would look.

Apparently satisfied with the look, she reached for a funny looking gun that is plugged into the wall. She used a pair of pliers to grip my skin so that what she wanted to pierce was directly in front of the gun. The gun is parallel to my skin and would be shooting through the gathered skin, not towards my body. A brief flash of light, the target skin getting slightly warm and then she removed the pliers and inserted the belly ring right through the new hole she had put there.

It turns out the gun she used is a laser, and it made the hole and sealed the skin around the hole so it would not get infected. Michelle told me not to worry the hole would not close up if I left the belly ring out. Another permanent step to femininity although it would not be seen by many people unless I took up belly dancing. Then she sat my chair back to the upright position and turned some so she could work on my ears. I asked how many holes I was to receive, knowing that I really had no choice in the matter. Femininity demanded a certain number of ear piercings apparently, and I was going to receive them.

It turned out that three piercings per ear were the current style for a feminine female to sport these days. The laser as it heated up and pierced each hole made quick work of the task, and as she finished each ear, she added the earrings. Fashion dictated a long dangly earring and two studs per ear. One of the studs was slightly larger than the other, a diamond, in this case, the smaller stud a ruby, and the long dangly earring a collection of looped gold chains with diamonds and rubies sprinkled along the chain. The overall effect very feminine and the long dangly chains a real distraction as they touched my ears and neck.

After completing both ears, she appraised the overall effect, then untied my robe letting the robe swing free. With the robe out of the way, she reached for a nipple holding it between her fingers. It took me a minute to formulate that this might be the next target. I raised my hands to cover my breasts, but Michelle just smiled.

Back into the tray and after several minutes, she retrieved two gold and ruby discs, similar in size to a fifty cent piece with a center hole. I pleaded with her for a little mercy, since very few people will see the jewelry to appreciate the femininity of it. Time for Ginger to show up, of course, she would be here for this, but not to save me from the belly ring, or the other jewelry.

Michelle shows Ginger her accomplishments so far and asks about the nipple piercings. Ginger looks me over from head to toe, stopping to play with my belly ring. She looked directly into my eyes and smiles asking what the promo flyer said about nipple rings. I let out the biggest sigh, knowing that I am going to have two more piercings today before this is over. I never did answer her, since it isn’t necessary, she knew what the flier stated, but wanted me to seal my own fate.

Michelle took some cream rubbing it into my nipples, then a long forceps to grab my nipple in its jaw. When she let go of the handle of the forceps, it remained clamped at the base of my nipple. The engorged and erect nipple on display for her to pierce. The laser aimed at a spot just ahead of the base of the nipple and triggered. With the forceps still attached she attached the rounder as she slipped the straight barbell through the piercing and the rounder.

With the hole near the base of the nipple, this kept the majority of the nipple in the rounder with just the tip protruding a little. She moved a finger over the tip of the nipple, and I swooned with the pleasure that pulsated through my body. Michelle announced that is it all for today, but since we finished early, the salon is going to give me a free no charge service for being such a good customer.

A free service, more likely a way to complete the feminization faster and make me lose the bet. The idea that I still thought I could win the bet, a quite fanciful idea. It turns out I am going to get a free facial and mask as my treat. Good, I thought twenty minutes and I will be out of here before they can think of anything else. Well, it didn’t quite work out like that. Glenda, my technician for the facial, a thirty-something female with a body of a teenager had other ideas. Very confident in herself, and in her abilities, she had me seated and is working on my face within minutes.

The facial started with a cleansing solution, then worked into my skin with a rotating brush. It did feel wonderful, but the process took almost fifteen minutes. I felt my skin afterward and am surprised at how soft it felt. My lack of facial hair didn’t occur to me at that moment, but soon I realized that there is no stubble on my face when I touch it.

My beard, if light facial hair could be called that, is not very masculine, in fact, I had let it grow now for three days to show a little defiance to the feminization treatments. Now it is missing, like some of my other attributes. I reached my hand up to my face again to make sure that I had not dreamed the fact that I had no beard. Nope still smooth as a baby’s butt, although I had never felt a baby’s rear end to see if that colloquialism is true.

After that, the deep cleansing mask is applied turning chalky white as it dried on my face. I received the obligatory two cucumber slices over my eyes and allowed to relax. I was awoken sometime later as Glenda peeled the mask off my face. She did show me the dirt particles embedded in the mask that had come from my pores.

Glenda was a true perfectionist as everything she did to me is by the book. After the mask is removed, she examined me and told me that she would have to apply another since there is still some embedded dirt in my pores. Another mask is applied, this one an apricot deep cleaning mask and then again the cucumber slices and drying time. I felt this mask tighten on my skin as it is squeezing each and every pore to extract anything not supposed to be there.

I managed to stay awake this time, though when I tried to stifle a yawn, I found out that I could hardly move my mouth, the mask having an unrelenting hold on my skin. Glenda had to use a warm washcloth to remove the mask, but the cool air on my face afterward felt wonderful. Another cleansing wash with the rotary brush and my skin is ready for the moisturizer.

She smoothed a fairly thick layer on my face and used the rotary brush with a very soft head to massage into my skin. Soon I am awoken again, this time, a victim of the sensations of having my face massaged by the brush.

Glenda proclaimed me done, and Michelle came back into the room with clothes for me to wear. Today I was given a bra to wear with instructions on how to keep the new breast jewelry centered in the cup. The nipple jewelry did make itself known, the exposed nipple rubbing against the fabric of the bra causing a sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. Then Julie and the dreaded corset appeared, although this time it was pale pink in color and had no breast cups, thus the need for a bra. I wondered how they were going to get me back into it without the machine. Between Julie and Michelle, they managed to get me back into the corset in short order without much fuss.

I was amazed but told that as long as the hours out of the corset were minimal, the body does not quickly expand back to its original shape. A week of the corset training and my body should retain its female shape with ease. Michelle did apply a cloth bag over my naval piercing to keep the corset from catching on the pin or dangling rings.

The clothes for that evening were to be a blouse in pink and a burgundy mini skirt, and I do stress the mini bit. It wasn’t more than two or three inches longer than the bottom of my panties. As I turned to look into the mirror, I kept pulling on the bottom of the skirt to get it to cover more, but to no avail. The narrow waist of the corset allowed the skirt to fasten, but there was no slack to allow it to be pulled down.

I immediately thought of the struggle I would have tonight to get anything done around Ginger. Since I have started these treatments, she has become a mad woman with regards to me. The kissing alone has made me a nervous wreck; I love the kissing, but the feeling of my body melting into her embrace has made me lose all concentration. The bad thing is I have nothing set aside for dinner, and I really don’t want to go grocery shopping like this. In this outfit, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle the situation.

I sat there in the lobby trying desperately to figure how to handle dinner and the period after that, commonly thought of as Ginger’s revenge by yours truly. I guess someone of the divine nature pitied me since Ginger came to the front and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner tonight. I accepted way too quickly, figuring that handled the need for groceries, but forgot the fact that I would have to go out as a woman, much less my attire. The mini-skirt my first thought.

Not just any female but with an hourglass figure with prominent breasts and hips, and jewelry to boot. Ginger smiled that I got you little smile, then suggested that I allow her to put some makeup on me to make my presentation a little more realistic.

The makeup is minimal, mascara and lipstick, then a little eyebrow pencil to add that arch to the brow, and I am ready. The restaurant is a diner specializing in a hundred ways to make a hamburger, and the menu had every one of them listed. I chose the guacamole burger with a side order of onion rings, a meal that I would have easily put away in the past with room for dessert, but the best I could do was half of the burger and most of the onion rings. The corset is to blame; a feminine figure is in my destiny no matter what I eat.

The meal did handle the craving that I had for something more substantial to eat. The conversation at the diner is again about how I am coping with the treatments. I had already lost the bet in my mind, the sensations that my changed body are sending my brain making it useless. More often than not I found myself just looking in the mirror not realizing where I was or what I am doing, my mind pure gush thinking about the next kiss or the cuddling that Ginger provides me at night.

I did make it home intact, but barely as that outfit that I wore out of the salon plainly is a challenge to any woman to stay modest. Put it on a male and you see where I might have difficulty. When I sat at the restaurant, I felt that my panties are constantly on show, no matter how much I tugged I couldn’t get the skirt to cover any more of my thigh. My legs crossed at the knees, not a normal thing for me, in an attempt to keep modest.

Ginger is amused by my actions, giggling at any attempt by me to stay decent. I guess she has worn outfits like this in the past, and I also ogled her attempts to keep covered. My payback for past occurrences tenfold since I am in the skirt this time, and she is enjoying my anxiety.

As we entered the house, the phone is ringing, and Ginger makes it to the phone first. The caller turns out to be Susan, and Ginger and her chat for quite some time. Hearing only half of the conversation, Ginger tells her of my latest additions and apparently invites her over first thing in the morning so she can see my new jewelry. I am trying to get Ginger’s attention, mouthing the words no, no.

Ginger smiles that wicked little smile of hers, then whispers what my next day’s treatment is going to be. Unfortunately, I can’t hear what she has said, so I am still in the dark. I did hear that Susan will be over at seven-thirty in the morning, to view the new me, great now I have to be ready earlier than usual.

Ginger uses the remainder of the evening to her advantage, probing and exploring all of my new jewelry. Have you ever had your toe sucked with rings on it, I know it sounds absurd, but as she attacked my toe, the tingles radiated all through my body. Then she slipped my bra off and rubbed the exposed nipple of the breast. I took in a deep breath; my mind went blank, and the nipple turned rock hard. That also triggered more radiating tingles racing through my body.

It was, at least, an hour later when she seemed to wind down, laying by my side with her one hand cupping one of my fatty deposits on my chest. Thankfully she was just running her fingers over the area around my nipple, and I managed to slip into a fit filled sleep.

Susan was very prompt, a larger than life smile on her face as I greeted her at the door. She made a detailed survey of my body, then asked to see the nipple shields. I removed the blouse, unhooked my bra and let it slip down my arms. Of course, she has to touch the nipples, why I can’t understand she has a pair herself, why she has to touch mine lost in the moment. She helped me with the bra fastening it behind me, then as I am slipping the blouse back over my head she twists one of the nipples, and I moan and almost puddle on the floor.

She helps me to the couch, then holds me, hugging a little and kissing my face. She informed me that she had Ginger’s permission to touch the merchandise, she can’t wait till I get real breasts. Oops, came out of her mouth, a hint of things to come apparently. Susan left shortly after that; the bounce to her step showing that she is enjoying this as much as Ginger.

Friday Day Four
Eight-thirty at the Turnabout Gurl salon for day four, for all that has happened to me, I can’t believe this is only day four. Michelle greeted me as I entered the salon, taking my hand and leading me back to her treatment room. I just wish at times that I knew what is going to happen each day, and then other times I am glad that knowledge is being withheld. She asked if I am ready for today’s lesson, then reverted to the standard start of each of my treatments, take off all of your clothes except the corset and panties. I fulfilled the request, standing there in the middle of the room with a blush attempting to hide my embarrassment.

She attached some garters to the corset, six to be exact and had me sit on the edge of a chair as she rolled the stockings up my legs. Then standing again, she attached the stockings to the garters. The sensation of the silky stocking sliding up my leg and the tension of the garters as she attached them to the corset is very erotic. A pair of very scary high heels were added to my feet; then she wanted me to walk around a little to get used to the heels. Scary was the word I used to describe them because the heel height turned out to be four inches, the heel tapering to a stiletto, with a strap that went around my ankle keeping them securely on my foot.

I did have trouble walking in them, but shorter steps and placing one foot in front of another seemed to help. These were Michelle’s suggestions, not anything I would have thought of myself. After twenty minutes, she moved me over to a treadmill having me step onto it and grab the handholds. She started it at a very slow pace, then gradually increased the speed. Constant corrections from her as to my length of stride and my foot placement were the rule for the next hour.

The comical thing is that my only clothes are the corset, panties and stockings as this exercise took place. It was much later in the day when I recognized that I had on no clothes. No one mentioned that I lacked clothes on my body, a female, only clad in underwear, walking in heels around the salon a normal thing. Then I noticed that my fatty deposits on my chest were bouncing all over the place as a result of not having a bra on. I am sure my image would cause giggling and laughter no matter who was looking at it.

At a little after ten, she allowed me a break, a diet soda, and an energy bar are the bills of fare. I felt a little better, but not sure if it was what I ate or the fact that I am off my heels. She had me remove my heels, and then remove the stockings. Again the slippery feel of the nylons, as they slid down my leg, is almost too much.

She handed me a new pair of stockings that I had to put on myself and attach to the garters hanging from my corset. She had me adjust them several times since I did not have the tension right but finally managed to complete the task. Again the lingering feeling of the stockings, as they slid up my hairless legs, is difficult to do while maintaining my composure.

Next a new pair of heels, this pair only had a three-inch heel, complete with ankle strap. I asked about a little larger heel, something with a little more stability. Michelle answered, yes they make them, and no you will not be wearing them since the femininity quotient is too low. Femininity quotient does that even exist, but I am assured that it does and that everything I wear or services performed for me would have a very high FQ.

Walk around for a little while, and then a stint on the treadmill, this time without the hand holds. Forty minutes later I quit thinking how I was walking and fell into the natural pace and swing of a female walking in heels. It became effortless as I walked along in the heels, even though the three-inch heels did not have as large an FQ as the taller ones that I wore earlier.

Another break, a small salad, and a few crackers are the extent of the meal. I started to say something to Michelle, but she nixed the exchange in the bud with her statement that I needed to watch my waist line. I needn’t have concerned myself since the corset curbed my appetite, allowing me only to eat part of the small salad.

After the break, if that is the word for it, another pair of stockings, a new pair of heels, and a pencil skirt were given to me to wear. The heels must have had an FQ nearly at the top of the scale since the heel height was five inches, the stiletto almost tapered to a point, and only one strap across the lower foot and an ankle strap held the heels onto my feet. I was sure that this pair would cause me trouble but was pleased that my Femininity Quotient would be off the charts. It is amazing the things that I tell myself, part to somehow get through this, and part to maybe accept some of the things that are happening to me.

The pencil skirt fit me like a second skin from my waist to my knees. It looked good on me, but when I tried to move with it, the realization hit me. It would restrict my stride, even more, causing me to sway more as I tried to maneuver in the skirt. I was allowed almost an hour to get accustomed to the restricted stride, and then back on the treadmill. She did keep the speed of the treadmill down to a manageable pace, but being able to manage the pace required all of my concentration. Hence, I lost track of time and her conversation.

About three thirty, Michelle pronounced my day complete. She had taken some videos of my walking as the day progressed, and she allowed me to sit and watch them. I saw the clumsiness at the start of the day, then as each hour passed I noticed the improvement in my walk. Finally, the snippet of the session with the skirt and the five-inch heels, all I saw is a female, a sexy woman in beautiful heels, in the videos.

She handed me a blouse, again silky and lacy, to put on, and then stooped to attach a strap around the heels and my ankle. I gave her a funny look, wondering what this was all about, and then when she clicked small locks through the ends of the strap, I knew the answer. I would wear the heels until somebody allowed me to take them off. I did have some pain from wearing the heels, but not something I couldn’t handle. However, more hours in the heels were not what I was looking forward to, just a little respite from the heels a better choice.

She handed me two cloth bags and told me they were to slip over my heels before I went to bed, to keep from ruining the sheets. Well so much for getting out of the heels tonight, but why did she have to end up with the five-inch heels, I guess a reason that I would not be privy to today. Well, I am ready to head home, another new outfit, and something else making me more feminine just completed.

I will have to hand it to the people that designed the ten steps to being a more feminine female. Everything that I have gone through has sculpted me into a feminine persona, and I am only at the halfway mark of the program. Ginger came by to check on me and watched as I daintily made my way over to where she is standing. She seemed impressed, as she attacked my body, making sure that I knew her love for me. I keep thinking back to my stupidity and at the remarks, I had made about the program.

I began to wonder what she will think of me after I complete the program. A most feminine female, but maybe not as desirable as a boyfriend and husband. I wished that I had not pushed the issue, hindsight proving that it was the most idiotic thing I had ever done. I just hope that our relationship is still strong after this is over.

I took my leave of the salon, heading home to put something together for dinner and maybe earn a few reprieves from future developments. The drive is as usual, boring and way too long. I parked in the driveway near the garage since I had forgotten to pick up the remote to open the garage door. As I made my way down the driveway to the side kitchen door, the sound of my heels on the concrete echoed through the neighborhood. Our neighbors were bound to be aware of my presence with the clatter of my heels.

With no makeup on and no eyebrows, I thought the neighbors would easily see through my disguise, but everyone I met asked how I was and addressed me in the female gender. Must be a lot of people these days that require glasses or contacts to be able to see. I entered the house and made my way to our bedroom, thinking that I would change into some of my male clothes. Then I remembered the corset and my female figure that would prohibit any male clothes from fitting my new body shape.

I was beginning to wish that I could remove the heels since the strain in my calves is starting to hurt a little. Looking down at the straps that Michelle had attached around the shoes and my ankles I saw that would most likely be impossible. The strap is substantial, requiring more than a pair of scissors to cut through it. I guess accepting my fate might be a better choice, and I proceeded to the kitchen to make dinner.

I am not well skilled in the kitchen, but could make a simple dinner, warm leftovers, or make a packaged meal taste like something. That was to be the fare tonight as I took a one-skillet dinner, with the addition of quite a few spices and added a side of salad and rolls to make tonight’s menu. I made tea; both of us fans of green tea made fresh and chilled over ice cubes. I got everything together and on the table as Ginger walked through the front door. I gave her a welcome housewife kiss and received a reward of some groping as we made our way to the dining room table.

Although I haven’t been excited about being made more feminine, the sensual kissing and occasional groping by Ginger towards me is appreciated. It makes me feel desired, loved in a non-sexual way, an idea not often connected to a male in a loving relationship. I guess that I am just not your normal male, thinking of how I look at the moment, a truer statement never voiced.

She enjoyed the meal, often joking that maybe we ought to reverse the roles and then she could marry me and make an honest women out of me. At least, I hoped she is joking, but with Ginger, you could never be sure, as when I first brought up the flier from the salon. She told me she would gladly take the program if I would take one of being a masculine male.

I had presumed from that comment that she did not think I was very masculine, causing me a lot of worry over the next few hours. It turns out that was just her way of telling me that she is enough of a feminine female and that she would not be interested in the course. Since my remarks about the program questioned her and the salons beliefs, and since I couldn’t just keep my mouth shut, I caused my own demise. If I only had listened, I might not be here in heels, dressed as a female with hairless skin. If only I had listened.

She helped me clean the dishes and put the leftovers away and then we headed to the bedroom. She helped me get undressed, and then put the shoe covers on tying the drawstrings on the bag so that they would not come undone. I delicately asked her the reason for wearing the heels; her reply was for my feet to get used to wearing heels all the time. A feminine woman takes a long time to get accustomed to wearing heels all day, a luxury I didn’t have. As a young female, it takes years for a girl to get used to wearing heels, without the corresponding pain usually associated with heels.

She told me that she had watched the videos that Michelle had taken and that she is thrilled at my progress and sexy looks. She proclaimed that she just might have to marry me if I kept up the progress. The newer tighter corset, which was slipped on me yesterday, left my breasts available for playing with, and Ginger took advantage of that fact. The nipples especially seemed to ache wanting some attention. I had just about got used to the earrings though dangling from my neck and ears. Then it dawned on me I had been braless all day, the thin blouse not able to able to hide much, the nipples in their discs plainly visible to anybody.

Saturday Day Five
Another morning, another appointment, too many days to go till this endeavor is over. As I swing my legs out of bed, I am confronted with the bags that are covering my heels. I position my foot as close to me as possible so that I can get the laces undone on the bags. Many minutes later, I finally manage to get them undone and remove the bags. Then swinging my feet back down to the bedroom floor, I try to stand in the heels.
On the second attempt, I have successfully attained a standing position and stride out for the bathroom. It is not simply a matter of choice, and at that moment, it is highly necessary to keep my panties somewhat dry. Arriving at my destination, I pull down my panties and sit on the toilet. From the moisture on my panties, I have already leaked some, causing me quite a bit of distress. It seemed that the amount of liquid released is going to overflow the toilet, but it didn’t. I must remember to restrict my water intake, the pressure of the corset on my bladder allowing it to hold very little.

I sure hope they have scheduled a corset change for today, the itching feeling having regained its former level of torment. True to their word, the body does get used to the tightness of the corset and the majority of the time I don’t realize it is on. The ache at my nipples though is persistent, not pain just a constant sensation that they are being rubbed or fondled. I guess that is the point of the nipple rubbing the inside of the corset or bra cup, whatever it is, it can be very distracting.

Today, I guess I wear female clothes to the appointment since my closet is missing any former male clothing last night when I got home. I know the heels will be an integral part since I can’t remove them, and I have now several outfits that I have worn home to choose from, so there are choices available. Since Ginger had to leave early this morning for an early appointment, I am on my own. I decided to wear the outfit that I wore home the first night. I finish up in the bathroom, still shocked a little seeing my reflection in the mirror with no eyebrows.

The reflection is feminine, even though my hair has remained untouched. I brush my hair and put it up in my typical high ponytail, something I have been doing for several days now. Back to the bedroom and slip into my clothes, check myself in the mirror, and then head to the kitchen. Since the application of the corset, my appetite had dwindled to almost nothing; I am positive that my weight has shown a significant loss during this time a plus for my new feminine figure.

I have noticed that I seem obsessed by any mirror that I walk by, wanting to make sure that all is perfect in my appearance, at least, the things that I can do something about my concern. I imagine with the program completed, the time at the mirror will be significantly longer, due to all that has to be fixed or repaired. I finally managed to get out the door and head to the salon, although I will be late today by the looks of the time.

When I arrive at the salon, Ginger is at reception, with several customers lined up to check in. After all, of them are processed she tells me to go to Julia’s room and remove all my clothes, I start to mention the locks on my corset, but Ginger picks up two locks that were on the desk asking if these were the ones. She giggles, telling me that she removed them this morning before I woke up. With my head down I headed back to remove my clothes, kicking myself for not noticing they were gone. I could have been free of the corset for an extra hour or two if I had paid attention.

Since my heels were still locked on, I had to slide the pants over the heels carefully, and then I started unbuttoning the blouse. With the silky blouse sliding off my shoulders, I was able to get to the corset. I reached behind me feeling for how the laces seem to be fastened. I found the bow, undid it, and then started loosening the laces. It is an ordeal, but as I achieved a little slack, my body groaned in gratitude. Finally, I am able to get it loose enough to slide it off my body, the goose pimples and the feelings of joy that accompanied that feat is fantastic.

I was rubbing myself all over as Ginger came into the room. She checked out my body, smiling as she ran her hands over my waist and breasts but spent way too long on my nipple shields. The act of her touching me there was like electricity surging through my body. Thankfully she did not persist in her fondling as I wouldn’t be able to handle the feelings. She removed the cloth bag that surrounded my belly piercing, the straps holding my heels on my feet, then told me to take a shower, making sure that I washed everywhere since it would be several days before I could take another one.

The shower is wonderful, the warm water cascading over every inch of my body. Several times I had to turn away from the spray and the pulsating stream attacking my nipples was making me weak. It must have been at least twenty minutes later that I finally left the shower, although I hadn’t used up all the hot water. As I am drying my new body, I wondered what is on the agenda for today. I knew whatever it is; it would most likely impact my life in a most dramatic way.

Julia came in shortly after that, asking if I enjoyed the shower. I know I responded but was not sure that she could hear my response for the purring that is coming from my body. Like a contented cat, my whole body was vibrating with pleasure. She smiled, giggled a little, and then stated that her assumption is apparently right. She helped me on the treatment table, then applying the moisturizing cream to my body, not missing any areas. Since there was no hair regrowth trying to initiate, it could be assumed that the follicles were dead, and I would be hairless from now on.

That statement should have deeply concerned me, but for some reason, the fact that I would have a hairless body from now on is viewed as something good. After she had finished the front side, she had me flip over, and she handled the back side with equal skill and speed. As I turned over to lay on my back, she was wheeling in a machine on a stand with two cups dangling from hoses attached to the unit. I briefly wondered where the cups were intended for, but only for a few minutes.

She proceeded to rub a numbing cream on my nipples since my nipples were so sensitive; something Ginger is proud of, apparently a necessity before the machine does its thing. Then a block of substance, squishy and soft, is placed over my breast, and then the cup lowered to my chest. The same treatment is performed to my other breast and with both cups sealed against my chest with adhesive the pump started, sucking my already loose tissue firmly into the cups.

I am thankful that she put the numbing cream on my nipples since through the clear form I could see my nipple with their attached shields pointed towards their final destination. I could feel the tension of the breast tissue as it is stretched to fill the form.

The cups heated up and then the pump went from a steady suction to a pulsating suction. After five minutes, the pump turned off, but the tissue remained sucked into the form since the vacuum is still present. Several minutes later the pump restarted keeping the tissue stretched and trying to fill every corner of the form. The heat generated by the form became almost uncomfortable, right on the edge of being too hot. I noticed a little sweat coming from the chest area surrounding the form.

The pumping kept up for several hours, with Julia checking on me several times to make sure the pump was doing its job. I was also given sips of water as needed, but other than the noise of the pump it is quiet in the room. After four hours of this treatment, Julia came in and turned the pump off. The hoses were disconnected from the forms and the unit is wheeled out. I lay there wondering what is going to happen now; the loose tissue seemed almost solid in the forms.

Julia came back about fifteen minutes later and helped me to sit up, inspecting the seal around the edges of the form. She asked if I wanted some reading material since the forms were to stay on until they dissolved in a few days. I let out a deep sigh. The task now is to pick out a hairstyle for me. She returned later with a whole handful of hair style magazines, suggesting that I find some style that I might like. She sat with me going over what type of style might look good with my face shape. She pointed out a couple that might fit the image, but they are very feminine.

For the next several hours, I went through the whole stack, dog-earing any that I thought were attractive. Three hours after the forms are disconnected from the machine I noticed some tingling returning to my nipples. By that time the forms are really bothering me, my nipples were particularly touchy. I mentioned this to Julia but she said I would have to wait until I could be laced into the corset again before anything could be done to help the sensations.

They were not just loose tissue that the corset forced up; they were two C cup breasts looking like they had been there from the start. Ginger and I now had identical breasts on our chest, Julia had informed me of my correct cup size when I had over exaggerated my estimation of their size when I first saw them. The forms were already getting flexible, the sides now able to be pushed in. When she ran her hand over the nipple I swear I could feel the touch of her hand.

It seems that every treatment performed by the salon makes such a huge difference in my looks and presentation. I prided myself on my normal male presentation, but after only five treatments I can’t be taken as anything but a feminine female. Julia then drags out a new corset. I held the sides as she fastened the busk, then turned so she can lace me up. Quickly the laces are tightened as the corset molds my body back into that perfect female hourglass figure. This time, the new breasts on my chest fill out the cups of the corset to perfection. Even though the forms are still there I can feel the material of the corset.

Since my body has not had time to revert to its former masculine shape the lacing goes fairly fast, the shape from before still prevalent. The last inch or two are a little more resistant, but Julia manages to get the sides of the corset to touch. Of course, the locks go back on, assuring my compliance with the corseting. In a way, the corset feels good as it supports my back, helping me to stand more upright. I feel secure within its grasp, the cups cradling my new breasts.

The thought sank in a little more; I have my own breasts, a part of my body. How weird is that? Nestled in the cups of the corset they felt so good, like they are being softly caressed, a very pleasant sensation. Some new clothes were brought in, a soft pink pant, which looked like it would mold to the shape of my legs. The matching sweater with a burgundy flower design woven into the pattern is also very form fitting. Julia’s only remark was if you have the figure flaunt it.

In these clothes, I would certainly be flaunting it. The heels had to be put back on since I had almost to stand on my toes to keep the calves from aching. Once on, the legs looked and felt much better, the heels now a requirement in my future.

Tonight a repeat of last night, except that I managed a lasagna dish of sorts with garlic bread for dinner. Ginger is a little more subdued since they had been very busy today, the promotion really taking off. I managed to get to bed at a decent time, and my nemesis only cuddled me as we drifted off to sleep. Later in the night after visiting the bathroom, when I returned to bed, sleep evaded me. I lay there thinking of recent events, but the emerging thought that surprised me the most is how accepting of this transformation I have become, with few complaints.

It is a stupid bet, one that I will still be enduring some of the resulting transformations for quite some time. The breasts today a good example. My skin stretched to the max, and some kind of tissue inserted to keep the fullness that is not going to go away after the conclusion of the bet, even I can see that. Then wearing heels all the time, my tendons are already shortened, requiring heels all the time for comfort. Getting them back to normal will probably require lots of time and pain before I will be able to wear a pair of sneakers again.

Sleep did eventually come, but no answers suddenly popped into my head, and no conclusions reached concerning the reversal of my procedures. Then again maybe I don’t want them reversed. The thought hung around for a couple of minutes before the sleep that had evaded me finally returned.

Sunday
I am half way through my morning ablutions when Ginger walked in giggling at me. I asked what is wrong; a couple more giggles and I am getting frustrated. I told her that I didn’t have time to play games with her this morning, it is already seven-thirty, and I hadn’t a thing on but the corset and a pair of panties. She reached her arms around me, whispering in my ear that she is determined to make me late this morning, my new taskmaster would likely punish me for the deed, and I would have to spend extra time trying to appease her.

I squealed, trying to break free from her grip but still caught in her grasp. I did what any feminine female would do and started crying, Ginger soothed me a little but still holding me in her embrace. Finally, she broke out giggling, almost in hysterics; it is Sunday Victoria, and you don’t have to go to the salon. When that information managed to get processed, I felt so small and blonde. I had lost track of what day it is, and in typical blonde fashion just presumed that it is another day at the salon.

Ginger told me to come to the bedroom as soon as I finished, and she would help me remove my corset for a while. Then put on the nightie that she would leave out for me. Oh, and be sure to gargle with mouthwash. I asked her if I had bad breath, but she ignored me and went to the bedroom. I made sure to gargle a sufficient lengthy time, and then padded to the bedroom in my heels. It had got to the point that I had to have a pair of heels on or the pain in my calves would be severe.

Ginger had helped get the corset laces loose, and I finished slithering out of the garment. Every time I saw my body out of the corset, I sighed, the feminine curves and hourglass shape more pronounced every day. The required rubbing of my skin in celebration of no corset, out of the way, I picked up the nightie and slipped it on. My hips, in particular, seemed larger than yesterday. My imagination, I don’t know but the slack area in the corset yesterday almost filled today when I slipped the corset off of me. The light green baby doll nightie came to just below my groin, although the lace and ruffles seemed to accentuate my breasts and hips. I also saw that the nightie came with matching panties and slipped them on too.

The heels that I had been wearing were dark blue in color, not very appropriate for a light green nightie. I looked in the closet and found an ecru pair, through the heel height was, at least, an inch taller. I slipped them on, then fumbled with the straps for at least twenty minutes before I managed to get them buckled. I sat down at the vanity and brushed my hair, the resulting hairdo so much more voluminous than before. I declared myself ready and headed to the kitchen.

As I passed the mirror on the closet door, I took in my appearance and pulled up short. I had forgotten my lipstick, a must to keep my lips moisturized and inviting. Although I had not had any instruction in makeup per se, several of the ladies suggested it since Ginger seems so enamored of my lips. I applied a coat, then blotted it, then one more coat for that extra gloss and richness of color. It was a deep rich burgundy lipstick that was quite mesmerizing.

As I entered the kitchen where Ginger was getting us some breakfast, I once again came face to face with a smiling Ginger. She appraised my looks and attacked my lips, the passionate kiss lasting for several minutes. Sometimes Ginger kisses with a lot of tongue, exploring my mouth and throat. Today though she was more interested in sucking every ounce of air out of my body. It was a sensuous kiss, but I had to pull away so that I could resume breathing.

“Does my little Victoria not like my kisses?” I tried to respond, but the redness of my cheeks is interfering with my brain activity. I was simply tongue-tied. Well, Ginger knew the cure for this, and I was assaulted again by her mouth. By now the brain is pure mush, the kissing is causing my nipples to get excited, and that is causing my brain to shut down and just enjoy the kiss. Eventually, that is what I did; I just enjoyed it.

I wonder if all women have this problem where their body takes over causing them to do and experience things that maybe common sense might dictate otherwise. We did eventually get around to eating the fruit slices that Ginger had prepared, along with tea, a preferred drink for both of us instead of the coffee usually consumed. I asked her what the schedule for today is going to entail; her response is more of the same. I gave her a puzzled look, and then she giggled and smiled. Today you are going to learn how to kiss sensuously another person, me.

Ginger suggested that we adjourn to the bedroom, our makeup seriously in need of repair. I went first cleaning off the old lipstick and adding fresh layers. Instead, of two coats, Ginger handed me a lip gloss, saying that it will require less work, plus keeping our lips soft and sensuous. The lip gloss did make my lips desirable, as Ginger quickly informed me of that fact.

The first lesson is never to rush the kiss unless you are horny, and your new wife is making you lose your mind. I think she is referring to her as to the horny and me as the new wife. The kiss should be desired and never rushed, approaching the kissee and slowly moving you lips to the intended target. Then a light touch of the lips to establish contact, also allowing for any static electricity to discharge.

After the initial contact, re-approach the target, appraising the goal, then slowly make contact again allowing the lips to engage the target fully. A little extra pressure allows the kissee to know that she is desired and loved. The pressure should never be strong enough to cause that person to step backward. From a kissee’s viewpoint, you should welcome the lips, inviting them to stay a while, then gently lean into the kiss, allowing a firmer contact with the lips. We practiced and practiced for at least an hour, almost wearing off the lip gloss in the process.

If my mind hadn’t been mush before it is now, the feelings radiating through my body, conveying to me the love of my S.O. and my need to reciprocate my love to her. The femininity is causing me to be submissive, I am not the one initiating the kiss, I am on the receiving end, and am proud to be so.

When we finished with that particular kind of kiss a break is necessary since both of us are short of breath and breathing faster than usual, maybe as a result of the apparent lust shared in the room. She suggested that lipstick repairs are needed, and we both attended to that task. After repairs it is time for the next type of kiss, Ginger called the kiss the I love you nibble. The purpose here is to drive the intended target over the edge with playful nibbles and kisses designed to melt down any resistance and turn the kissee into a blithering blob of desire.

This nibble/kiss can be aimed at any erogenous area of the face and neck. Often a prolonged attack is necessary to clear any resistance. She demonstrated by nibbling at my ear, working down my neck with nibbles and light kisses until she had reached my upper chest. Without any verbal communication, my breasts are stretching up to meet her lips, as she got nearer to them. Then she lightly nibbled my lips, their twitching showing their desire for more attention.

Then she moved her lips to my nose and eyes, my eyelids closing in anticipation of being touched. My breathing became more labored, my facial muscles twitching in approval at the attention that they are receiving. As she brushed her lips over my eyelid, she let out a small breath, and I orgasmed right there on the bed without anyone touching my organs. She felt me shudder and knew what happened, smiling stopping her attention and allowing me some space.

I quickly gathered my senses and made for the bathroom, I pulled down my panties and squatted on the toilet. Wiping I slipped my panties back up and flushed. I knew that I would be blushing as I faced Ginger again, the femininity of coming just from the stimulation of her lips on my face. Never would a male be guilty of such obviously feminine release. I made my way back to the bed with cheeks a blazing. She took my hand lying me down on the bed and cuddled me close, whispering of her love for me, and her thanks for me experiencing this side of her life. I would always be her treasure to be loved and cherished.

I told her if she expects to complete this training she better stop with the talk and resume the kissing. I was silently tearing up, my love and respect for her more than it has ever been. She had me execute the nibble/kiss on her so that I could compose myself a little. She realized how deeply I was into all of this and knew that my mind needed to be occupied for a while. I practiced my technique on her, roaming my mouth over her face, nibbling here and there. My breathing is already labored causing her to twitch a little as I hit a particularly vulnerable spot.

I got my revenge when I was nibbling on her ear, then slipped my tongue out and lightly licked the crease between her ear and head while exhaling a little breath to finish off the deed. She almost threw me off of her as she writhed and shuddered. I looked her in the eyes, smiling that Cheshire cat type of smile and giggled. She hit me in the arm, protesting that is not an authorized maneuver. I replied that I am just improvising a little. Now she protested that she would have to clean up, I offered to do it for her as I licked my lips, but she said that would only entail moving some of the lessons to another day, and we were on a strict schedule as it is.

She came back from the bathroom smiling, really looking forward to more of this training. I hoped I could resist any further attacks on my person; I am sure she will try and cause another mishap to even the score. First, the lipstick had to be repaired again, I returned from the vanity, with two coats of the lipstick and a coat of gloss on top of that. I was getting hooked on the taste of the lipstick and loved the feel of it on my lips. I am constantly rubbing my tongue over the lips to savor the feel and taste.

We cuddled for a while, a pleasant feeling that I never enjoyed before, holding someone you love, just relaxing in their embrace and thinking of nothing. The feel of the lace on the nighties as it slid over our bodies, the satin material as it comforted our bodies, are experiences that seemed to be welcoming to the mind. In our past relationship before the fiasco of the femininity promotion Ginger and I never took the time just to hold each other, no sex, nothing but the feel of our bodies as they nestled next to each other.

Back at the training, Ginger decided I had mastered the nibble/kiss enough to move on. Next is the wet, tongue involved French Kiss. She wanted me to be the aggressor in this scenario. I am to approach her, get her attention, and then wow her with the kiss. I tried to be seductive as I approached her sitting on the bed. I leaned over holding her face with my hands, then tilted my head and approached her lips.

I tenderly touched her lips with my mine, then withdrew to repeat the process. After a couple of nibbles, I kissed her a little longer as I took her lower lip in between my lips and pulled back a little. Then releasing her lip, I kissed her a little more fully, allowing my tongue to brush her lips lightly. When her lips opened a little, I inserted my tongue gently against her teeth and tongue. I moved it around a little savoring her taste and stimulating her tongue with rapid, but light touching. Then twisting my head a little more to the side I explored her mouth in all its glory.

Finally, I leaned back letting my tongue lightly touch her lips as I withdrew. Another light kiss/nibble and I withdrew fully. I smiled at Ginger as the expression on her face said it all. She was going to teach me kissing, and I had managed to take her breath away as I showed her what I was capable of doing. I got a puzzled look from her as she asked me where I learned to kiss like that. I pointed to her, telling her that when she is exploring my vocal cords, I am watching and feeling what she did to me. The rest is history, I know that is corny, but I always wanted to say that.

That was the end of the lessons for today, but practice is always required to be at your best. Ginger practiced for the rest of the day and evening. When she finally relented I was asleep in minutes, my body could not take any more stimulation, no way, no how.

Monday Day Six
Getting out of bed seems to be a little easier these days, a benefit I think of losing quite a bit of weight. With a vicious corset trying to cut me in half, what do you expect? During the days at the salon water and an energy bar are all the nutrients that are consumed by me. At night, I eat a little more since I am starved when dinner comes, but the reduced size of my stomach can’t handle much. I consume maybe a fourth of what I used to eat at a meal. I seem to have more energy, at least, I act energetic, and the main difference is that I feel like doing things where in the past I just didn’t feel like doing anything.

I dressed in another of the outfits that I had worn home from the salon since with my new enlarged breasts nothing else fit. The erotic feeling from my nipples are still there, quite often the feelings are a handful to deal with, never to be denied, a persistent need to be touched. It’s like my mind cannot focus on anything else but the feelings. No wonder I have lapses of memory, from one minute to another often blurred.

I handled my bathroom duties and ran a brush through my hair, then fondled my earrings a little, another pleasure that I have become addicted to. Clicking out to the garage in my heels I slid my rear end into the seat and fastened my seat belt, ready for a trip to the salon. Yes, the stiletto heels are still a part of me, my presumption being that I am probably one of the most experienced males around walking in heels.

At the salon, Michelle greeted me at reception looking in the appointment book to see who I am scheduled to be with today. A large smile adorns her face, as she turns and calls out for Ginger. It turns out that Ginger was already on her way, smiling from ear to ear. I am sure glad that everyone gets enjoyment from making me more feminine, although I have seemed to develop some enjoyment in the things that are done to me also.

Like everyone else she takes my hand and leads me back to her styling station. Seated in her chair, she then turns the chair around and lays down the back so she can wash my hair at the sink. I kidded her about not wanting me to strip out of my clothes, her giggle, and comment that we could still do that if I wanted. I was purring as she washed my hair, then using conditioner as she massaged my head. It felt so good; I could have enjoyed that all day, but wrapping a towel around my head she raised the back of the chair, and the sensations subsided.

She lightly blow-dried my hair to get the excess moisture out, then separated it into smaller sections and pinned each one. Looking in the mirror my image looked a little ridiculous as the pin curls covered my head, but I knew it is only a prelude to things more feminine. She grabbed some bundles of longer blonde hair and laid them on my shoulder. Then starting at the front of my head she released a section and added a few strands of the blonde hair, using a glue gun to secure them to my hair. I could see that this was going to be a lengthy process, so I made myself more comfortable in the chair.

Ginger worked along at a fairly quick pace adding the extensions to my hair. About an hour later another stylist came to assist Ginger, speeding up the process considerably. I watched in the mirror as my image changed from an attractive woman to a gorgeous female. The blonde highlights transformed my hair from a run of the mill brunette to a striking medium blonde. Even though my original hair had not been dyed, after the extensions it appeared lighter with much more vibrancy.

It took them almost three hours to complete the task, with then adding almost five hundred new strands of hair to my head. Ginger brushed the highlighted hair, then ran her fingers through my hair like she couldn’t stop touching it. Finally, she grabbed my head with her hands and gave me a toe curling kiss, telling me that I was making her moist in her panties looking at my super feminine image.

I never knew that Ginger felt this way about me, we often experienced a long and romantic interlude leading up to sex, but here I was being attacked by my girlfriend because she loves my hair. Now don’t get any ideas, I am not complaining in the least if anything I am pleased that she loves me so much. The fact that her love seems connected to me, a feminine female is not missed by me. I think I have a few inklings towards the feminine in me, ones that I never acknowledged or even admitted to, but none the less they are present.

After the kiss, she proceeded to cut my hair balancing out the length of my hair with the length of the extensions. I received bangs slightly longer than my eyebrows, if I had any, but brushing them to the sides of my face. Then sprayed my hair with setting gel and started to roll it on medium sized rollers. As she sectioned a portion off, she added a little more setting gel, then rolled the almost foot and a half long hair on the roller. Because the hair was so long, the portions she separated to roll were small, necessitating lots of rollers. She made the rollers very snug against the scalp and then pinned them in place.

Smaller rollers used at the nape of my neck, around the ears, and for my bangs causing me to giggle as I looked at my image in the mirror. My look is definitely feminine, almost a caricature of a female. I think Ginger noticed that I am becoming more relaxed with the femininity, not as tense and grumpy as I was on the first day of treatment. I am taken to one of the back rooms to dry my hair since Ginger wanted to have a little fun as my hair is drying.

The hair dryer is turned on, the warm air giving me goose pimples as it worked to dry my hair. Ginger got us a couple of bottles of water, then sat next to me and played with my corset and what is underneath. Since I am fully clothed, her hand had slipped through the front of the blouse sneaking around looking for something to get into trouble with at my expense. She did find my breasts kneading my nipples and the adjoining nipple rings through the bra. I asked her if she didn’t have other appointments to take care of, but she informed me that I am her only responsibility for a while. I closed my eyes and tried to think pure thoughts, but the aching in my nipples wanted some attention. For forty minutes, the hair dryer droned on, and Ginger managed to keep pace with her attention to my poor nipples.

She finally quit, not because she wanted to, but my hair is dry, and her fingers had to be tired from the exertion put forth. Back out to her station, as she began to remove the rollers from my hair each one leaving a perfect round curl even without the roller. She loosely brushed out the curls, leaving a soft, billowy mass of curly hair. The first style she tried was an up do, brushing the sides and front to smooth them pinning the mass of curls at the top and back of my hair. Some pictures are taken of the style then she unpinned the curls and brushed the hair again leaving masses of tumbling curls cascading from the top of my head down my back. A couple of more pictures, then she brushed my hair to the sides and back leaving an empty spot at the back of my head.

She left for a minute then returned carrying a large mass of hair and curls, but the same color as my new hair. The fall pinned to the back of my head; she then brushed the remaining hair over the fall blending the hair so that all of the hair looked like it is mine. I am surprised at the weight of the fall, a noticeable difference from my normal ponytail. As she brushed the hair, I noticed that I now had hair past my breasts, and the volume is amazing. I remember back when big hair was in for females, my Mom, a big proponent of this style. Well, I had it over the big hair people, everywhere I looked near and around my head that is a mass of hair and curls.

Ginger asked if I had anything planned for dinner, my reply is just leftovers from yesterday and maybe some applesauce for dessert. Apparently that is not what Ginger was interested in, or she is just looking for an excuse to get me where she could play some more, that a more logical reason. She called and made reservations at an Italian restaurant that we frequently visited, for seven-thirty. She asked if I wanted to go home, or stay at the salon, and then leave from here to go to the restaurant.

I chose to stay here and asked if I could stay in one of the unused treatment rooms until she finished with her last customer. She took me back to one of the rooms, asking me if I just wanted to sit or did I want to be strapped in until she is ready. I presumed she was joking, but with Ginger, you can never be sure. I found a pad and pen and started scribbling some thoughts down about my experiences the last few days. The idea came to me when she was gluing the extensions into my hair.

Maybe other people might be interested in my adventures with femininity, definitely not a typical story. The time passed quickly as I put down on paper my treatments, and especially my feelings about them. Soon Ginger came to get me, after finishing her last customer. She had in her hands some makeup, telling me that I couldn’t show up at the restaurant looking like I did. She penciled in some eyebrows, added mascara, some rouge for my cheeks, then lined and applied lipstick to my lips. I am watching in the mirror the whole time, any last vestiges of my masculinity vanished as she performed her magic.

I am handed a small clutch purse, with my mascara and lipstick added to the bag. She walked with me to her car, guiding me as a male would do with her hand in the small of my back. She even opened the car door for me, as I slid into the car. I am thankful, indeed, that today’s clothing included pants.

I knew skirts were going to be the norm, but it is way too much effort to stay decent in a skirt compared to a pair of pants. I had to be reminded to take my purse into the restaurant, but other than that I performed quite admirably for a feminine male. I told Ginger what I would like to eat, and she informed the waiter of our choices. My voice is not deep, but my inflections were still masculine. Ginger told me the voice class would take care of that for me.

We had a nice meal, I had an Italian version of chicken salad, with bread sticks and Ginger had a serving of Lasagna, a favorite of hers. The food is good, but with the corset, I only ate about half of the salad. She ordered some wine for us as an after dinner treat, and we talked as we sipped the wine. She wanted to know what I really thought about my experiences so far. I told her that it is hard to express in words, but I had written some notes and feelings about my experiences, and she might get a better feel for my thoughts by reading them.

She told me that all of the employees at the salon are so proud of Victoria; most thought that after the first one or two treatments that I would give up or just leave to avoid any more treatments. Ginger knew that I wouldn’t, my word means too much to me, but this is definitely not a trait shared by many males.
The dinner is pleasant, and we stayed too long as we sipped wine and talked about us. She admitted that as a feminine female I turned her on so much, it is like she couldn’t get enough of me. I admitted a little later that I probably would lose the bet, each day it is getting harder to ignore the feelings and sensations. I confessed to the fact that my IQ has probably dropped twenty points since my mind is goo, most of the time.

We made it home, but we were both shot physically and were soon asleep in our nighties cuddling each other. Sleeping with all that hair is different, thankfully Ginger had braided my hair before I went to bed, a necessity if I was to have long hair. I was informed to set my alarm for an hour earlier since my hair would have to be taken out of the braid and brushed. Not just a few brush strokes, but, at least, one hundred strokes with a good quality brush. Ginger noted my old brush and promptly threw it in the trash, citing the bristles were not firm enough and that the damage shown on the bristles would damage my hair.

Tuesday Day Seven

I dragged myself out of bed when the alarm intruded on my peaceful dream. I made my way to the bathroom after slipping on my heels. Yes, Ginger had allowed me to sleep without the heels, a welcome occurrence, but as soon as my feet hit the floor, the heels became a necessity. After brushing my teeth, I gathered my new brush and padded back to her vanity. I sat and started brushing my hair, after releasing it from the braid. The weight of my tresses was still something I had not gotten used to yet, but I will have to admit I liked the long hair.

Part way through, I became aware of how much work long hair can be, my arm was already getting tired, and I still had many more strokes to perform. I switched arms that helping a little, but using my left arm was a little awkward. If I was to do this every day, I knew that I would have to be able to brush with either arm. Nearing the ninety brush stroke, Ginger saved the day. She didn’t have to be in early, and she was going to the salon with me. She had been lying in bed watching me, giggling as I realized how much work it would be to keep my feminine appearance.

I guess she took pity on me, and took the hairbrush from me and finished brushing my hair. She did tell me that it would get easier as time goes by, but still time consuming. That is why the beauty salons do so good; the effort to keep feminine and pretty can sometimes be quite taxing, and any help a female can get, greatly appreciated by her. Incidentally, with her brushing my hair, I instantly am purring, a contented little pussy. Did I just call myself a pussy, I guess the mind has already gone?

Since she spent a few moments longer than she should have, we had to hurry to get ready in time. A pair of pants, some knee highs, and my heels completed the bottom half. Yes, I did do the customary clean pair of panties. Slipping on another pair of heels, they felt good on my feet, the angle of my foot in the shoe somehow comforting. A pullover sweater completed the outfit, although it fitted a lot tighter than when I wore it home the first time. That was due to the expansion of my mammaries.

Ginger is right behind me, and I am pushed outside and into the car. She has always had a thing for being late for her appointments, so today was no different. We did make it, but only five minutes to spare. When we got to the salon, she went directly to her station, as I am kidding her that I didn’t get any breakfast. She shot back; then I can tell Julia to use a smaller corset then since you will have lost some of that fat.

I gave her a sad look, telling her that she just called me fat; Julia was coming to reception, giggling all the way at the exchange. As she approached I got a hug, then she ran a tape around my waist, declaring me ready for a smaller corset. She looked in the appointment book to see what is scheduled for me, and then told me to take a seat, Stephanie would be with me shortly. Somebody new to inflict more femininity on me, how wonderful, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Since this is Tuesday day 7 of the promotion I wonder what wonders of femininity will bestowed on me today.

Stephanie came up and introduced herself taking my hand and leading me to her room of horrors, her words, not mine. She told me that there had been noted several complainants from me that I was not required to strip for every appointment, a fact that she was going to address. I will be doing your nails today, toes also, but to show that we at Turnabout Gurl Salon aim to please all of our customers you need to take off all your clothes.

I stared at her, is she kidding, apparently not as she asked me to turn around so she could take off the corset locks. Besides, since I haven’t seen your piercings, I deserve a sneak peek. I removed the sweater, the pants but am told to keep my heels on my feet. She helped me release the tension of the laces, and I managed to get the corset off. The urge to scratch and itch all of the covered up areas is almost too much. Instead, I rubbed the areas as carefully as I could to ease the discomfort.

She did offer me some cream to rub into the more distressed areas to ease the itching. The first place I placed a dollop of cream is my nipples. Only the actual tip of the nipple showed, the rest covered by the nipple shield, but the cream felt so good as I tried to massage it in. I finally calmed down enough for her to continue, my distress attack over for the moment. As I am rubbing the cream into several strategic locations, she commented on my piercings. She is wavering about having her nipples done, but after seeing mine, she thought she might go ahead.

She told me to sit in the salon chair and then wheeled her manicure cart over to me. She placed my hands into two bowls of liquid and told me to keep them there. She was looking at a chart of what she was going to perform to me today and giggled a little at a couple of the items. For the sake of femininity, another variation of having my nails done is in the cards. Her only comment that it would take some time to get used to my new appendages.

She lifted one of my hands from the liquid, pushed back the cuticles then cleaned the surface thoroughly. A file is used to rough the surface of the nail lightly; then she went through her box of extensions selecting ones that matched the size of each nail. She added a little glue to the surface of my nail, spreading it evenly over the surface, then carefully placed the extension on top of my real nail. She was extra careful to get it positioned just right, and I asked her why she was so careful. She smiled, these nails can’t be filed or cut since they are so hard.

I quickly looked at the nail seeing that it was, at least, an inch past my fingertip. OMG, how am I going to deal with these talons, talking about being noticeable they seemed to shout look at me. During the rest of my manicure, I just sat there trying to figure out how I could possibly deal with this. It didn’t take long until she had finished adding all the extensions, and then she brought over a UV dryer, placing my hands in it and turning it on. The UV dryer would make the glue permanent, the nail only coming off when the original nail grew out.

I would not have to worry, though, these nails breathe like real nails, and my real nails would not suffer for having the new nails glued to them. All I heard is permanent, which would mean six to eight months before they might again be a reasonable length. Twenty minutes under the light and I knew my fate. Why I didn’t keep my hands out of the dryer, only a higher authority would ever know.

As my hands left the dryer, I noticed that the artificial look of the nail had changed. It looked just like a real nail, in fact, it looked much better than my nails usually looked. She applied a base coat to the nail, telling me that would keep the color of the nail polish from bleeding into the nail bed. Then followed three coats of burgundy polish, Femininity Inc. the name of the polish. The polish turned my nails into beacons that shined, then to top that off a gloss coat is added to make sure that the shine is near blinding.

I tried to make a fist to hide the brilliance of my nails but found the new length made that impossible. I didn’t know what to do with them, they fascinated me, I wanted to look at them, but the nails seemed to drive home the point that they were super feminine and now one with my body for months.

Temporarily my attention is distracted as Stephanie moved my feet into another container of liquid. After soaking for a while, she filed and shaped each toenail, also using a pumice stone on my heels and any rough spots located elsewhere on my feet. Then the base coat, followed by three coats of the same polish used on my fingernails. Finally, the top coat and my toenails just glistened.

With all of my nails polished she used a special cream on my hands and feet. It had been developed to soften the normally tougher skin on hands and feet. She used a rotating brush to apply and work it into the skin. My usual occurred, and the sound of my purring heard throughout the room. Once Stephanie connected the noise to what I am doing, she broke out in giggles. She told me that I am obviously a true pussy, wondering if I wanted a little rub behind the ears to go with the massage.

If you have never had a manicure and polish on your toes when you are naked, it is an experience never to be forgotten. There is this erotic nature to it that defies explanation. As she was applying the polish to my fingernails, my nipples were itching and trying to get out of their restraints. Then handling my toenails, as the cool polish slid over the nail surface added all kinds of sensations to my overworked mind.

I tried to say yes, but she is having too much fun stimulating my purring. When she ran the rotating brush through the spaces between my toes I thought I would have an orgasm right in front of her. I took a deep breath, forgetting to breathe for a minute, and then when she saw the effect it is having on me, she moved the brush to other areas. I did get a wicked smile from her, although no words were spoken. Finally, I am pronounced done, and then Stephanie told me that she would let Julia know that I am ready to be encased in my corset again.

She laid the back of the chair to the reclining position so that I could rest for a minute or two. It turned out to be for more than a minute as I quickly fell asleep. Suddenly I awoke as Ginger explored my throat from my mouth; her tongue felt like it is almost to my larynx. Meanwhile, her playful fingers trying to extract my nipple from the shields. She could see the reaction that she is getting, deciding to frustrate me as she stopped cold. My body, making quick spasms of movement as it is looking for her mouth and fingers.

The frustration is just about as bad as the actual teasing, my nipples, in particular, aching for anything, a touch, a rub, anything at all. Then Julia had to show up, party pooper that she is with a handful of tubing and a much longer corset than she usually puts me in. The tubing had me worried, just where is she going to put it. She gave me an evil smile and told me to relax. Then she put restraints on my wrists, followed up with the same on my ankles. I had a bad feeling about this.

I am right; it seemed her intention to catheterize me as she put on sterile gloves and opened the bag containing all that she need to perform the task. She did use some silicone salve to coat the end of the tubing and then gently slid it up my urethra. I was excited and erect until she started to insert the tubing. Then quickly all went limp, almost shrinking into oblivion. When she got to my bladder, a small stream came out the end of the tube.

When it is drained; she measured the tube until the cut end twisted around my scrotal sack and taped it into a place where a female usually peed from. I was wondering the reason for this but knew better than to ask. She released me from my bonds and told me to stand and grab the back of the chair for support. The longer corset is wrapped around my body, and the front busk is fastened. My new breasts managed to hold the corset up until she could take the slack out.

This corset was a little different than the last two as there seemed to be more room in the hip area, as the length came down to my upper thighs. She steadily took out the slack until the corset seemed molded to my skin. It is still tight in the waist, but the breast area and the hip area, not so tightly constricted. She told me that was the reason for the design to encourage more buildup of fatty tissues in those areas.

The she told me to spread my legs, and she reached between my legs to grab hold of a panel that is hanging down at the rear of the corset. She pulled the panel forward between my legs securing my penis and the tubing end in a pouch in the front of the corset. The end of the flap attached to the front of the corset with several snaps. I found out the tip of the tube was extended through a hole in the corset so I could pee. She next attached a valve assembly to the tubing, having me turn it on and off to make sure that I could handle it with my new nails.

She then asked me to try and unfasten the snaps at the front of the corset. I tried for several minutes in vain, with Julia happy at my lack of getting the snaps undone. She told me that there is another panel that covered my anus, but that I would be required to get someone to help me get it undone so I could go #two. At that comment, my face turned dark red, similar to the sun at sunset. She giggled, since you are now in the helpless female class, welcome to the female gender.

The next morning I had to get Ginger to undo my flap so I could go to the bathroom. Not much could be more humiliating than that. I had the day off, if you could call locked in a corset, with a catheter a day off. I did some of my work, catching up on projects that I had got behind on. With the longer nails my typing speed went into the low forties, everything taking almost twice as long to complete. The fact that I made twice as many mistakes as the tips of my fingers found a key they weren’t supposed to, did not help matters. I also noticed that the corset is making me pee more often my bladder under quite a bit of pressure from its unrelenting grip.

I did manage an afternoon nap, before I started preparing dinner. Today was a day that the salon was booked solid, thus my day off. Ginger had a steady flow of customers all day, the promotion really filling the salon. One good thing came from it, she is so tired when she got home that she ate dinner and then went to bed. Unfortunately I had to wake her later in the evening so she could undo my flap. She was smiling the whole time, making sure to reattach the flap before we went back to bed. I swear she has an evil streak in her, just waiting to be unleashed.

Thursday Day Eight
The new nails did affect me getting ready the next morning. Mainly stabbing myself with talons, yes it did hurt. Simple tasks are now difficult, things hard to pick up, the new nails seemingly getting in the way at every turn. Ginger assured me that I would get accustomed to the length, it would just take some time. I gave up on wearing a blouse today since I couldn’t do the buttons with the long nails. I read the promo flyer again; the nails did look ultra-feminine but made life so much more difficult.

I had been trying to write about my experiences, even Ginger liked some of my thoughts, but now with these talons attached to my fingernails writing anything is nearly impossible. I no longer had locks on my heels and corset; they were not necessary since I could not undo the buckle on my shoe or undo the laces on the corset. A truly frustrating situation, but I will have to admit that my nails looked so feminine, helping to change my hand from drab to dazzling.

One of the things that made me feel so submissive and feminine is when I had to ask her to undo me so I could go to the bathroom. A necessity for life, but I had to have assistance, a helpless female needing someone to do things for her. Probably more mental than anything else, but it made me feel so submissive.

It took me almost ten minutes to fasten the button on my pants that I was planning to wear today. After the disaster with the blouse, I picked a pull on sweater to wear instead. The heels are easy to slip into, but the buckle had to stay unfastened until Ginger could help me. She is outright laughing as she buckled the shoe, reminding me of the promo for femininity. She assured me in the next breath that she adored my femininity, making her appreciate all that I am doing so she could have her sexy and feminine wife to treasure and love. There was a suppressed giggle attached to that last comment.

I gathered up my purse, a gift from Ginger so that I had a place to put my keys and the bottle of nail polish so that I could keep my nails fresh and beautiful. I headed to my car, slid into the seat, struggled to get my keys out of my purse, and then drove to the salon. I did bring an apple with me to eat since my meals have dwindled down to dinner with maybe a power bar for lunch.

Due to the constant restriction of the corset, I wasn’t really hungry, just something to appease my stomach I guess. I arrived at the salon right on time and Stephanie is waiting for me at reception. She wanted to see my nails first to make sure I had not ruined my manicure. I protested that I couldn’t do anything with them on, and I ended up crying a little. It isn’t fair, the nails are so frustrating, and what can I do? She pulled my hand, and I am led to her treatment room.

She spent a little time showing me some tips to allow me to function in them. It would still be difficult but picking up a coin, buttoning a button, dialing a number on a phone were still possible, just requiring a little more finesse to accomplish. She told me that yesterday I wouldn’t be able to take advantage of the tips, but after getting used to the talons, my mind is now open to the suggestions. After a couple of months with the new nails, I would be able to perform anything that I had previously done as a male. A couple of months that time frame made my feminine conversion more of a permanent arrangement then.

With my frustration somewhat under control, Stephanie moved on to the day’s treatment. Again the clothes had to come off; easier said than done, but I did manage. Stephanie didn’t offer to help, figuring I needed the practice. She did help with the buckle on the shoe strap and the laces on the corset, though. That was done to assure that she could get to the treatment today and not carry over to another day. Whichever stylist is scheduled for the day always checked over the piercings, and any prior treatment to make sure there are no signs of infection or problems.

Today’s treatment is about skin care for both my body and face. She would show me the cream for the area she wanted me to apply it to and watch as I performed the task. For maximum feminization, the creams are applied daily and rubbed in. When I tried to rub the cream for my legs in a very strong and hard manner, she quickly corrected me. That apparently can cause wrinkles, so a light application of the cream and then a light circular motion to work in the cream.

For the body, she ended up giving me five different creams to use. The hand and foot cream is the most important, applied as often as possible for best results. Then the cream for my heels at night, a heavier cream that when first applied acted like a regular cream, then with gentle rubbing the cream turned to a liquid, absorbed directly into the skin of the foot. She also addressed filing of calluses as needed before the application of the cream.

I only managed to dig my nails into my tender skin three times, none bad enough to break the skin. Stephanie got me a bottle of water to drink, and we took a small break. She noticed that I had already adapted a few of my movements to account for my new nails. She got called to reception for a phone call, and I unconsciously started rubbing my hands over my body. Ginger caught me, telling me that is her job, and I am not allowed to pleasure myself.

My skin did feel softer, and supple compared to before. My wandering mind returned to the present when Ginger pinched my nipple that is slightly extended beyond the nipple shield. Ginger antagonized me for a few minutes then cleaned my throat with a passionate kiss and went back to her customer. Stephanie returned, giggled at Ginger’s lipstick imprint on my mouth, and then suggested that we start on my face.

She showed me how to cleanse my skin, and then I had to do it myself. Then a facial mask is applied and later removed. My turn to repeat her actions, but this time, she had me use a different little mask that took longer and set harder. When she had me remove the mask, I am amazed at the amount of dirt and particles that the mask removed. Next is a moisturizing cream that is absorbed into the skin within moments.

I had felt my skin before the treatments, and the difference is astounding. With my skin clear and clean she handed me another cream. Before you use this on your beard area, are you planning on going through the entire feminization promotion? I told her yes, I lost the bet fair and square, and would fully comply with the entire feminization program. Stephanie then told me that the cream would cease any beard growth immediately and permanently inhibit the growth of any facial hair with the second application. Ginger thinks you are ready for this mentally, but the decision is entirely up to you.

I opened the jar and took some on my manicured fingers and started gently massaging the cream into my beard area. The earlier application of cream during my body hair removal had almost stopped the growth. I am sure this cream will finish it off. Besides I was never fond of shaving to start with, a chore that never seems to end. As I am rubbing in the cream to my skin, I wondered about my change in attitude during these last few days.

I don’t think that I am to the point of wanting to live my remaining life as a female, but the advantages are creeping into my mind more and more. I think a lot of it came about as the change between Ginger, and I became more erotic, the simple things we did before now inadequate. When she leans in to kiss me, it seems that my body gives itself up to be taken by her. I am submissive to her wishes, voluntarily, I want and yearn to be touched and fondled. The trouble is after a kiss; the desire is instantly there to do it again, once seeming never to be enough.

Stephanie after watching me rub the cream into my beard area decides that the next step is called for now. She leans me back in the stylist chair, fusses with my nipple shields, removing the barbell that holds the shield in place. There are plenty of nice sensations that pulse through my breast, but no pain, the hole apparently completely healed up. She takes another jar, a clear liquid and softly rubs the nipple with the liquid, my nipples harden up and swell to a quite noticeable level.

Ginger’s nipples get that large when I play with them, but it takes quite a lot of playing to get this effect. Stephanie rubs the liquid on the nipples three times as the liquid vanishes into the skin almost instantly. After the third application, she replaces the nipple shield fitting the barbell back in place. Looking down at my nipple, the swelling is still present pushing the end of the nipple noticeably above the shield. Several minutes later it is still there, although it now seems to pulsate a little.

I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations, then becoming aware that I now have to go to the bathroom. I ask Stephanie for a robe, not ready yet to dash across the salon nude so that I could use the restroom. I have to slip on my heels also since walking without my heels causes me pain in my calves. I sway my way to the bathroom and pull up my robe to pee. I gingerly place my butt on the toilet and reach down to my crotch to turn the valve so that my bladder can empty. It seems to take forever, but finally, the stream of liquid ceases. I blot myself with toilet paper, then straighten my robe to return to Stephanie.

The return trip more relaxed since the pressing need is gone. Stephanie giggles as I return, telling me that I move pretty fast for a female in heels. We chat for a while, she seems more down to earth than some of the other girls, caring what people think and want to do. We talk about how I got myself into this predicament and what my feelings are about the treatments and procedures. I confess to her that I anticipate that I will be a fully functional female before this is over and in a way I welcome the change.

It has shown me a side of myself that I never acknowledged or even knew existed. But the deciding factor has been the change in the relationship between Ginger and I. The love seems real, the caring deeper and more realistic, like two soul mates that have finally met and decided to live the rest of their lives together. To be honest, I will have to admit that besides all of these reasons, I have found that I like dressing and acting like a female.

The only thing that scares me a little is whether the real me will survive the extreme femininity that is sure to surface in the remaining procedures. I know Victoria is here to stay, but at what cost. Stephanie suggested that the feminine me is the real person here. I was thinking about that statement as I made my way home.

Tonight is no exception after we returned home I am put through the wringer both physically and mentally, every part of my body betraying me as it succumbed to Ginger’s attention. Dressed in our nighties, I snuggled next to her so that I could be near the one I love. She spooned my back as her hands made sure that my nipples were not jealous. Through the mush in my mind, I realized that Victoria is helplessly in love with Ginger and wanted nothing more than to be the wife in the relationship. Victoria is in control now; Victor is lost swimming somewhere in this vast ocean.

Friday Day Nine

Another morning, although I am not as apprehensive as before about the day’s activities. I seem to accept my fate now, by the time the promotional treatments are over, I will be a female in all ways except the male appendage hid in my panties. Each day the female mindset becomes a little more entrenched, the desire to dress nicely and be pretty a constant thought now.

I dress in one of my outfits from previous days, then head toward the kitchen. Some fruit and orange juice is all I desire this morning. The corset has done its job, my stomach is now much smaller, only requiring basic nutrition. Every bite I now take is food for my figure if it is high-calorie food, I eat less of it. I want my clothes to fit the feminine figure that I now possess. The fruit and juice are just enough to satisfy my hunger, now to make my way to the salon and today’s lesson in femininity.

Since the promotion had started, Ginger has been going in early to work. The idea is such a success that all of the stylists now are booked solid. Francine has hired more stylists and cosmetologists to handle the appointments, but the demand has even exceeded that level of business. As I walk in the door of the salon, dressed in a short skirt, four-inch heels, and a sweater I see the line at the reception desk. Most are trying to schedule the first appointment for the promotion. I hear one of the stylists tell them that the first vacancy is three weeks away.

One lady there with her significant other asks if the promotion really works, Ginger the one she is talking to about the program. Ginger smiles at me; I know that she is going to tell the lady about me, but I am proud to be a female, at least, in looks. Ginger tells me to come closer and whispers to the lady that Victor here is one of the people enrolled in the Ten Days of Femininity, do you have any doubts as to the success of the program.

The lady is open mouthed as she signs up for the promotion; her spouse swallows hard dreading the outcome of her actions. He is small and cute, and will make a quite attractive addition to the female ranks.

A new stylist takes my hand and leads me away to a different room in the very back of the salon. I am shown to a chair and given headphones to wear. After I get them situated so that my earrings are not caught in the earpiece, her voice comes over the phones loud and clear. She explains that my voice is the target for today, not just my inflection but my vocabulary. She will play a word spoken in a feminine voice; I am to repeat it as close to the way it sounds as I can. Then another word will come as the words a female normally uses in her conversations are covered.

I listen and try to repeat the word. I can hear my response clearly, the first few don’t sound very feminine, but Tracy doesn’t correct me. As I get into the program, she comes in with little suggestions, like use your throat and upper chest, say the word softer with less volume, and pitch your voice up at the end of the word. After an hour of this, I sound less masculine, at least to myself, and am not thinking of what I am doing, the words coming out naturally.

Then she switches to full sentences using a lot of the same words. After going through the full tape, she asks me to remove the headphones and talk to her about my experiences at the salon, using a lot of the words that we have just been going over. The conversation is stilted for a while until I relax and sort of get into it. I am telling her of the kissing episodes with Ginger and notice Ginger standing in the doorway listening to me. Tracy stops the recording of my efforts and backs it up to replay a part of it. The voice I hear is pretty much feminine, I notice a place or two that I could have used a more feminine word, but overall I sound like a woman.

Ginger decides that a reward is warranted, after the kiss, I can’t even talk. Tracy tells her that she doesn’t need that kind of help, and bans Ginger from the rest of my lesson. Ginger leaves the room; her sad puppy dog look seeking some consolation, but Tracy giggling at her antics just tells her to get.

There is a small break for nourishment, an apple, and a diet coke are my rewards, then back at it. The next segment is learning the sing-song voice pattern of females. She gives me a book with hundreds of sentences using a lot of the same words I used this morning, but in sentences that might have been said by a female. I am to read them aloud but not use the flat monotone pitch of a male.

Her suggestion is to look at the sentence, seeing where I could add emphasis to the words and pitch my voice that way. One of the examples is about a woman describing a beautiful dress that she wants. The emphasis being on the words that the woman uses to describe her beautiful dress, gorgeous, plunging neckline, bias cut, fitted at the waist, and a dreamy ecru color. I read the sentences letting my voice respond to the excitement of the speaker of the voice. Tracy smiled after the first few sentences, knowing that I had figured it out.

I did thirty minutes of the sing-song training then Tracy decided just to talk among ourselves. We talked about feminine things, about my hair, my nails, the blasted corset, and my heels. She only had to correct me a couple of times on poor choice of words or my slipping back into the male monotone. When I left the salon, I told Ginger I would see her at home and gave her an ‘I will miss you kiss’ then told her not to be late. My voice thrilled her, and I had to fight off an over exuberant lover to make my escape. I know the other girls in the salon get a kick out of our antics with regards to each other.

I made my way home thinking of my business on the side trying to decide what to do about it. Ever since the longer nails were put on, I haven’t been able to type or use the computer keyboard. From the start, I had put a portion of the money I made aside for later in life. Now I had to decide on ending my business if I am going to continue with the female lifestyle. I know I could shorten my nails some and still do my business, but my heart isn’t in it anymore.

I got home and called a couple of my steady customers telling them of my decision to quit doing the work. They were sorry to hear it but glad I had been upfront with them. Midway thru the afternoon, I made a decision to stick my neck out and send part of the story that I had written about my recent exploits to a female friend from college. Shirley is an executive in a publishing business now making big bucks managing some authors that had been signed to contract.

Before the nails I had gotten some of my exploits typed up in Word, so I sent that portion to her. I asked that she read it and give me her opinion, on whether I might make a small living from writing more. I knew it was taking a big chance, so many really good authors can’t get their work published, how did I think I was good enough to buck that trend.

I started dinner, wanting to make tonight special, only one more day of the promotion to go. I made a salad with about ten different vegetables, served with Italian dressing and Chicken Breast grilled under the broiler. I used a lot of herbs to season the chicken, cooked it slowly, turning it often to make sure the seasonings got absorbed into the meat. I made rice pudding from scratch, then topped it with Mandarin orange slices, with a tinge of Cinnamon for spice. Right before I served the salad I warmed the dressing so the minute it smothered the vegetables it would wilt them some.

Ginger is in heaven as I served each dish, not knowing whether to pursue me or eat the dinner. I had dressed in a nightie with a matching diaphanous robe my hair in an up do with matching ribbons trailing from the curls to my shoulders. Lots of lipstick, talking in my new soft feminine voice, doing everything I could do to seduce her while she ate. As I set down a dish my arm would graze her shoulder or breast, it was mean to tease her, but I got turned on almost as much as she did from the movement.

Since I was now laying on my bed, sans the robe with Ginger straddling my body with her head glued to my nipple, I would say the seduction is an unqualified success. She missed no erogenous spots, taking way too long at each location. I am as excited as I have ever been, my body trying everything it could to get closer to her. At one point I am rubbing her vagina with my groin moaning and pushing up with my legs. Ginger chuckled at my antics, calling me a wanton slut. I admitted to being one, but she has to do something, I can’t take it anymore.

She started again on my nipples, holding me down with her hands so I couldn’t move. That made what she was doing to my nipples even more erotic. She ran her tongue around my nipple, bit lightly on the end of it, then tried to take my entire nipple deep into her mouth. I was thrashing around on the bed, totally out of control. She would let me cool off a little then start over again, kisses for my lips, quite often nibbling on my lips then moving to my nipples. They were already rock hard, seemingly reaching for someone to suck on them.

I tried to get her to stop, my mind was already pure gush, my nipples are hard, the butterflies in my stomach not behaving at all. She told me she would stop if I admitted to being female and wanting to live as one for the rest of my life. I hesitated, but her nibbling on my nipple again made the words come gushing out of my mouth.

“Yes. I am a girly gurl and want to stay that way for eternity.” She smiled, and we have one more day of the promotion left, I wonder what I can have you agree to after the remaining day. I almost said that I will agree to anything but decide that might not be the smartest thing to do. She smiled and stopped the attacks on my over sensitive protrusions. I asked her if she is going to leave me like this, her one-word response, yep.

Many a time she had been on such a high that she wanted to do more things with me, but you never wanted to prolong the moment. You pleased me sexually, you always have. But a female sometimes wants to prolong the good feeling by cuddling or just holding on to your lover savoring the good feelings to make the moment last forever. Now you have the partial body of a female and are developing the same desires to be cuddled, to be held, to be cared for by someone. By the end of the promotion, you will be as one with me, two female lovers.

Saturday Day Ten

She held me in her arms late into the night, I felt comforted, cared for and loved. I regretted leaving the bed the next morning, a more pressing need the only reason I got up. Ginger had already left for work; the promotion had tripled business for the salon, with her booked solid for months to come.

I dressed in one of the outfits that I had worn home from the salon and made my way there. Only a couple of minutes late, I had to wait until they handled the line of customers at the reception desk. Stephanie is the stylist for today, I am led off to a treatment room, this time passing through a salon that is jam packed with customers.

She didn’t make me strip but did ask if any of my piercings are sore. I responded only my nipples but then told her that is only because a certain individual won’t leave them alone. Stephanie giggles, since your transformation Ginger, has been a sex starved teenager. All she talks about is you, how pretty you are, how much you have changed. She loves you more this way if that is even possible.

Stephanie opened a large case filled with makeup. It had smaller than usual containers of every color and kind of cosmetic imaginable. She went through them picking shades that were right for my skin color. After she had picked a full complement and placed them on a table in front of me, she picked up one of them and handed it to me.

It is foundation, the shade nearly identical to my skin color. She showed me how to apply it; then the powder used to set the foundation. This instruction went on, as she progressed through each cosmetic on the table. If I did it wrong, she made me take it all off and start over. I finally made it through the entire array of cosmetics.

The image in the mirror is a very feminine me; I wondered what Ginger will say when she sees me. I asked Stephanie why Ginger had not been in this morning. She smiled and told me that she is banned from seeing me until I am finished. Otherwise, I doubt that you would have ever completed your makeup. I will get her, let her get everything out of her system and then you can redo your makeup one more time.

Stephanie left, a minute later the door swung open with a clunk, and Ginger attacked me. The makeup I worked so hard on is smeared beyond recognition within minutes. I just sat there; I couldn’t do anything with her arms and hands all over me. Besides, it is hard to talk with someone’s tongue half way down your throat. Along with Stephanie, I giggled at Ginger’s enthusiasm over my looks.

As is common with any wind-up toys they eventually wear down; apparently Ginger had reached that point. She is sitting on my lap with her mouth glued to mine. Stephanie finally dragged her from the room, the returned a few minutes later. I had already started removing the smeared makeup and am soon ready to start over. While I applied the new makeup, Stephanie watched, asking me what I am going to do after the transformation.

She seemed genuinely concerned as to my future. I told her I had quit the business since it is either that or I would have to shorten my nails. I love my nails, so the business is no longer. I have notified most of my customers, a couple more to go then that phase of my life is over. Ginger wants me to be a full-time wife; that seems right somehow, but I still need something to occupy some of my time. I have written some of my escapades as a new female, I hope that someone might want to read them, I have a voice to word software program so I can dictate the stories instead of typing them.

Stephanie asked if I might be interested in a part-time job at the salon as a receptionist. The pay is not bad, and you get to meet all kinds of interesting people, you also get free beauty services. I told her that I would like that, but let’s keep it a secret between us for a couple more days. I want to finish the treatment, and then confront Ginger on what she wants from me. I know she has changed the procedures around from the original ten days of femininity I am blonde but not quite that air headed. Stephanie figured I had tweaked to the change in procedures, but since you went along with everything, I figured you wanted the changes.

I told her that all of this has brought us closer together than we have ever been, the relationship is more caring, the emotions more sincere and on the surface, not hidden or denied because of some idiotic reason. After the first few days I was hooked, I knew I had lost when my breasts came to be. The sensations so real and erotic from just a brush or touch from her hands or lips. After that, it was all downhill. Like I was on a pair of skis hurtling down the slope with snow flying up and caressing my cheeks. The feeling so warming and exhilarating.

Before she sent me home, she told me what tomorrow’s session dealt with, wanting me to think it through thoroughly before I came in the morning. Since you have been so good, this is a bonus treatment one that will finish the transformation to female. She will perform the procedure, herself, but as it is currently set up it is a long lasting one, not being reversible for at least nine months. She thinks it is right for me, but she does not live in my body. I was kissed and hugged and sent on my way. As I passed through the salon, I had to hurry before Ginger saw me. I made it to my car and drove home. I had a lot to think about tonight.

I walked into the house, and my cell phone started ringing. I answered the call and listened as Shirley told me what she thought of my story. We chatted for quite some time, and I agreed to meet her tomorrow at lunch. She was in town to possibly sign a new author and meet with another one to pick up a story. We agreed to meet at two o’clock since Stephanie had told me I should be done by twelve-thirty. Yes the salon had started staying open on Sundays, the promotion so popular it was almost a necessity. I gave her directions to a quiet little restaurant that is out of the way.

I went to my office and took out a tape recorder and continued my ramblings as I cleaned up the house a little and then made dinner. Two tapes later I used a program to convert the spoken word to print and then emailed her the new additions to the story. I had dinner all prepared, made sure my makeup is perfect, well, at least, the best I could do, and then waited for Ginger.

I got a call from her; she is running late due to traffic, but she is half way home. Susan had called her earlier asking how I am doing, wanting to know if I was showing signs of pregnancy yet. Ginger asked me to set another place for dinner since Susan will be joining us; she can’t wait to see the changes in you. I liked Susan, one more for dinner is no problem, besides it is better to have her here while Ginger is around than just the two of us.

I decided to have a little fun and raced upstairs to retrieve a small pillow and placed in front of my corset, using a panty girdle to hold it in place. I did say race, but that is relative since I had four-inch heels on and nobody races anywhere with heels on. I came back down and looked in the hall mirror, yes just enough showing to be seen, but not grossly obvious. I added another place setting for dinner, then checked on supper. About that time the front door opened and Ginger came in followed by Susan. Of course, Ginger had to greet her spouse appropriately by kissing me on the lips, a quick bit of tongue is also employed.

Susan is standing by the side of Ginger with her hand over her mouth. She is giggling but soon broke into outright laughing. She stepped up to me and asked if the baby is a boy or a girl. I told her that it was twins, one of each. I had to reach out and catch Ginger because she fainted dead away. Susan helped me get her to the couch, giggling all the way. She pointed and asked really, I told her no, just something to teach my hubby wife a lesson. I left her to get a washcloth to revive my spouse, smiling all the way.

Dinner went well, Susan didn’t eat much, too interested in my looks and exploits. Ginger kept giving me the evil eye; I think my little joke hit her pretty hard. Three hours later Susan left for home, asking Ginger and me if she could have lunch with me sometime. I just looked at Ginger; she arranged the first lunch date, Tuesday of next week. I cleaned up the dinner dishes and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. I went to my study, checked my email and found one from my school friend Shirley.

The email is short and sweet. Can we switch the lunch date to a dinner tomorrow and talk over your scribblings. I told her that would not be a problem, same place as before; it is not too far for me to drive. I decided to tell Ginger only part of the story until I see what she thinks of my work. Ginger is just coming out of the bathroom, drying her hair and a towel around her body. I slip up to her telling her I love fresh, clean bodies and in one motion jerk her towel away. She squeals and runs for the bed, even in heels I manage to catch her pinning her down on the bed. She knows I want revenge but tries valiantly to talk me out of it.

Within ten minutes I have her pleading with me to stop. I keep saying that I can’t understand her, does she really want me to continue all night. She sighs, frantically slapping the bed with her one free hand. Fortunately, that is all she can hit is the bed, as I have a firm grip on her lower arm. I count seven orgasms over the next thirty minutes, as she comes she is suddenly quiet, but then resumes her frustrations to get me to stop before the next one hits her.

I will probably pay for this tomorrow; Ginger has a long memory and a devious mind. Her response will probably make this seem like a cake walk, but a wife has to have some fun in life. On the last orgasm, I told her that I have a meeting with one of my bigger customers at dinner tomorrow night, one that I can’t postpone. It should only take an hour or two, so I should be home before eight. She asks if my appearance will make for a problem, I told her I don’t know I will just have to wait and see. I did tell her that her dinner will be in the oven, properly warmed for her timed to be ready at six.

I guess I had managed to wear her out since she cuddled me and we both fell asleep quickly. The next morning she is up especially early, I got a kiss with a big smile, and she left for work. I dragged my feet a little, then got dressed and ready to face my last ordeal, well by now they were becoming more of a treat than an ordeal.

Stephanie is waiting for me as I enter, leading me to a treatment room. She asked what happened last night; Ginger has been on a mission ever since she got her this morning. I told her briefly what had happened; then she asked me if I had any concerns about going further with the transformation. I told her no, it is full speed ahead. Stephanie smiled, that is good because you are about to ride the train all the way to the end. I had not been paying attention to what she was doing, but when the last strap secured my wrists to the side of the table, I knew it would be strictly Ginger’s choice from here on. My legs are lifted into the stirrups and spread wide, and I do mean wide.

Ginger entered the room, played with my breasts; I mean nipples, and then started kissing me all over. I would soon be in the same position as Ginger last night, but there is no way out. Then after she had me excited, she left the room. Stephanie slipped a blindfold over my eyes, and someone started working on my groin. I felt the apparatus that had been fitted several days ago taken off; then the area thoroughly cleaned with alcohol. The coldness of the cleaner making anything I had down there shrivel up to nothing.

They used the numbing spray again, and that is all she wrote. I couldn’t see anything, feel anything, as they worked down there. I had a feeling that they weren’t covering the area up with some fake vagina, this time, a couple of times it seemed they were stretching my skin quite a bit, but I couldn’t be sure. It seemed like hours, but probably isn’t, before they applied a skin like covering to my groin. Again with the stretching and then a cold liquid applied to the edges of my groin. I felt some sensations returning to the area; I guess the numbing spray is wearing off a little. Then nothing as all touching and feeling just stops.

A warm feeling between my legs signals that someone is back. The warmness, spreading throughout the entire groin area. The heat goes on for quite some time; I do feel someone checking on me since the area is touched from time to time like they are checking to see if is dry. Then Stephanie comes back in and takes off my blindfold. Unfortunately, she had laid a towel over that area to cover what they had done.

She takes my hand and starts explaining what has happened. The procedure is new to the salon but has been tested extensively in the research department for several years. Your testicles have been pushed back up into your body, a place they originally occupied. Then your penis and sac are stretched and using a surgical adhesive glued to the underside of your groin area. This will result in the two skins adhesion to each other, so you will now have to sit to urinate from now on.

A quick look at me to see how I had handled that statement. Since I had a small smile on my face, she went on. The techy girls have also developed a skin-like material that can be glued on with surgical glue that breathes like real skin. There is no need to remove it for the skin underneath to stay viable. In fact, the two skins usually fuse together in the first few weeks leaving just one layer of skin, like is normal for a human. With this new skin, we created a vulva for you; that is totally realistic. As the skins fuse, you will have feeling there just like a real female.

You can accept a dildo or penis up to nine inches in length, But I suggest that you refrain from the most well-built male of the species at least until you get some activity there. Just like in SRS you have to use a stint to keep the opening from closing up. That will be Ginger’s job, a task that I might add she is anxiously awaiting the chance to perform. To keep the stint in place Ginger has purchased a chastity device for you, I think more to keep you excited than to control your activity. When you have intercourse or have an orgasm, you will discharge from your penis as you used to, but instead of leaving the area it will stay in your vulva, at least until you stand up.

To minimize the leaking from happening you will need to become quite friendly with tampons. One inserted after an orgasm will keep the fluid contained until you can shower or bathe and get the fluid out. It will also probably require regular douching to keep all things sweet and inviting. You are now, except for pregnancy, a normal female both in looks and activity. The only difference is that in a female, penetration is usually more into the body while in your case it is along the bottom of your groin. In either case, it won’t be noticed by your partner.

I am sure you are aware, but in case you have not thought about it, you are also subject to all things that can go wrong in a relationship including rape. With Ginger, you will not have to worry, but out in society, things can and will go wrong at some point in time. That I think is one reason Ginger would like you to be locked up. She said that with one huge smile on her face, I am sure you know of several others without tasking the brain much.

I don’t think you will ever want it removed, but to all, we do the procedure to, we have to inform them it can be removed, but will require surgery, it takes a scalpel and numerous stitches to reverse the procedure. Why am I telling you this instead of Ginger, she is scared to death that she has asked too much of you. I myself, don’t think so, but she feels that she might have pushed too hard, made a few too many changes, and is scared she has damaged her relationship with you. I told her I would explain everything, how she feels and let you decide what you want to do.

You do remember me asking you many times if this is what you wanted, I took you for your word. Incidentally, your conversations were recorded as we do on all matters that are important. I feel this is how you should have been, just never had the guts or reason to approach this subject. I can tell you, her love for you knows no limits, but I am sure you are aware of that. Lay here a while, think everything thru and then I will be back in about thirty minutes for your decision. I personally suggest adding a shot to make your breasts real; I am so sure of your inner being that is the only option you should pursue. The shot has nothing to do with Ginger, my suggestion and present for finally being the person you should have been.

As she got ready to leave, I asked her to bring the shot back, and to tell Ginger that I will accept her apology for doing this to me, but it will probably take until she dies to make fully up for all of this. I expect to be treated like a well to do wife, my every need and desire handled in an efficient and prompt manner. Then I mentioned to Stephanie that as horny as I am now she better bring the chastity device with her and a strong lock. Stephanie left the room after giving me a big hug giggling like crazy. Since I am a bad girl, she is going to keep the key for at least a month. My mouth is wide open; she wouldn’t do that to me would she, a whole month, aaaaagh.

Stephanie did leave me to think for quite some time to be sure that is what I truly desired; I know she cares about me, her willingness to explain everything ten times or more a sure sign of someone that doesn’t want me hurt. When she re-entered carrying a syringe, I told her that all of this I wanted more than anything. The love that Ginger and I have has transformed into something much deeper and romantic. I want to take care of her, to be her wife and lover, and I want this to be for the rest of our lives. She turned off her tape recorder, smiled at me, just in case your memory goes bad.

It turns out the syringe is actually two and I received the contents in each of my breasts. I know nothing could happen that fast, but it seemed like it to my body. I know my nipples got rock hard, my nipple shields bulging with the nipple trying to get through. She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a long slender belt with two objects attached to it.

She said all of the girls of the salon had voted to lock me up, so that when the key is obtained Ginger and I will have the time of our lives. I started to remark that this is not necessary but Stephanie pushed a towel in my mouth, and that ended my comment. Since I was tied down, there is nothing I could do to stop her. She lubricated both tubes really well then lifted my ass a little to get the end under my butt. She slowly inserted each tube slowly whispering into my ear that my lover can’t wait, it has been so long, and she wants you so much.

I looked at her with disgust; she is having fun at my expense, and enjoying it way too much. Then she decides that Ginger might get here before she finishes and pushes the rest of the plug in quickly. I try to take in a deep breath as it fills me completely but am having trouble focusing. The other plug/tube is shoved into my new orifice, and I start to shake. I felt it all the way in and the tip is right up against the end of my penis. Just breathing deeply, causing the two to rub together.

Trying to get my breathing under control I miss the fact that she has the belt fastened snug against my body the two tubes now trapped in me. As Ginger walks in she clicks the lock and runs from the room. Ginger stares at me lying there, a smile on her face until she sees the belt and lock. She yells for Stephanie, and she appears in the doorway.

Stephanie tells her there is no need to thank her, the extra work is complimentary. Ginger asks for the key and Stephanie tells it was mailed to her house, it might take a few days to get there. Of course, the grin on Stephanie’s face is from ear to ear. She hands Ginger a plug similar to one used for a bathroom tub and suggests that she insert it before there are any accidents. She skips out of the room giggling so loud I can hear her all the way to the front of the salon.

Ginger comes over and sits down by me, caressing my hand with manicured polished nails on it. She lays her head on my arm and apologizes to me. I grunt and groan, and she finally sees my difficulty. She removes the towel and apologizes again in case I didn’t get the first one. She loves me more than when we married if that is possible. She will take care of me and keep me in the latest fashions and always in a nice house of my choosing. She promises to keep me happy sexually also, once she gets the key to my treasures.

She release my hands and asks me to turn on my side. I can feel the plug being inserted into the tube in my butt. She smiles and tells me that I should be able to get it out myself, but if I have any trouble she will be glad to help. The rear tube is hollow allowing anything in that tube to flow out unless the stopper is in place. Too much information, but I guess a necessary bit to have.

She leaves my feet tied down and starts caressing my body. The feelings start immediately, my body arching and asking for more touching. It isn’t long until I near orgasm, but nothing is happening down there. One it apparently can’t react anymore in the way it did previously and two it gets to a certain level then quits progressing any. Ginger stops and asks if Stephanie gave me any shots, I tell her yea, one in each breast. Ginger sits down hard in the chair, and screams, Stephanie and the rest of the girls are right outside the door and laughing hysterically.

She pokes her head in thru the door and asks if there is any problem here. Ginger screams again so loud that my ears hurt a little. I was to find out later that the shots to make my breasts real also stopped my organ from secreting anything or orgasming for at least three days. Ginger had a play toy all ready for her, and she couldn’t enjoy it at all. I chuckled a little myself and Ginger whacked my arm; it is not funny. I looked at her with my puppy dog face and told her that I loved her, take me home. Since that and cuddling along with some nipple teasing is all we could do we indeed went home. It felt real good to be able to put my knees together for a minute until the dildo-like object rubbed against the tip of my penis.

As we made it out the door with me now in a dress, with four-inch heels on, mind you there is no underwear, so a lot of things were flopping around to distract me. I quickly found out that I had to walk a little bowlegged to reduce the rubbing. That in heels is a real riot, but I finally made the car. Ginger drove us home and low and behold who is sitting on our front porch waiting for our arrival, Susan.
Susan walked to the car, holding the door for me as I stepped out. She had a smirk on her face since I now appeared as a female in all ways. Gone is the male Victor that I used to be, replaced with Victoria a girly gurl. I got hugged, kissed and generally mauled as she took in my appearance. Ginger smiling as she watched Susan assault me. I tried to extricate myself from her grasp, I had the meeting with Shirley and had to get my hubby’s dinner first before I left. I dragged Susan along while I fixed Ginger her meal. We talked, Susan quite interested in my tribulations and how it felt to be a female now. I got Ginger’s meal finished and in the oven, then sent Susan on her way.

I told her I would spend some time with her tomorrow since there is no salon appointment necessary, I am already as feminine as they can make me. We agreed to meet at the mall and spend the day shopping since I am now a girly gurl, I need the wardrobe to match.

I went upstairs to change, Ginger in the bedroom getting undressed. She tried several delaying tactics including some very erotic deep kisses. I decided to tell her the truth. My dinner meeting is with a female friend from college. She handles authors for a large publishing company and thinks some of my scribblings might be marketable. Since I have closed down my business, I would like to try and get some income on the side for makeup and tampons. Ginger laughs, but tells me that she trusts me, she has to since Stephanie has me locked away in the chastity belt. I tell her I will be back as soon as the meeting is over.

I finish dressing, a light pink and burgundy sweater dress that fits all too tight, but never the less looks good on me. I grab my purse, then call Ginger over to me by the bed. I push her backward onto the bed and attack her breasts. I suck hard on then as I run my one hand over her lower lips, then switch to the other nipple before she figures out what I am doing. I nibble on this nipple and then bite it and pull back with my teeth with her nipple firmly held in my mouth. I slide a finger into her moist slit, and she orgasms. I tell her I love her, and I will be back later. I hear the moaning and the throaty sounds coming from her mouth, so I know she only is hearing part of what I said.

The drive to the restaurant is brief, and I walk in to find Shirley in the lobby waiting for me. I grab her arm and tell the hostess I have reservations for two. I follow the hostess to our table watching Shirley try to piece it all together. The chairs are held out for us, and we are seated. We both order white wines and then are left alone. She focuses on me and mouths Victor. No, Victor is no longer, I am Victoria, and I am glad to meet you. Victor died recently, but he told me so much about you, that I feel like I have known you all my life. She smiles and finally puts the puzzle together.

I ask her what she thinks about my writings. She is quiet for a minute, then said they are okay, but seem to be to science-fiction based. This can’t happen in real life, so the stories are a little far fetched. I smile and slide a little closer to her, then pick up her hand and place it on the skirt of my dress. I ask her to feel around for anything that might resemble anything male and tell me what she finds. The tables are secluded some so after checking out to see if she can be seen she feels around for my penis.

Back in college, we had experimented several times, and this feeling up of me is not something that she had never performed on me before. She finds my slit and sticks her finger gently on the chastity belt covering it, and I moan a little. Her finger retreats so fast that I am sure the nail enamel is still there between my lips. “Okay, maybe it is not as far fetched as I imagined.” Before we go any further, I wanted to know what she felt about my writing style. She likes it, a laid back factual style of writing that encourages the reader to read more of the story.

She then asked if there is more to the story than what I have sent to her. I responded yes, almost half as much as before, just not put to paper. She looked at my nails and asked how I managed to get it put to paper. I told her I have a voice to word program that works quite well, only causing me to redo a few words. She sat there for several minutes, so I let her think as the wine is brought to our table. As the waiter left, she said that the company is prepared to offer me a contract for my stories. But publicity is necessary now since the readers want to see who wrote the story. Will I be changing back into a male in the future, if so that might make life difficult? I told her what she sees is the future for me, no more Victor, permanent changes have been implemented to make what you see the real me.

She leans back in her chair and stares at me. I lean forward and tell her the breasts are permanent, the vagina is real and functioning, in fact, right now I am wearing a chastity belt as a request of my hubby/wife. She giggles and asks if before we finish dinner that she might get a look at the device. I smile and tell her sure, if I can get a peek at your nipples. Before she can respond, I tell her that they look as hard as they got in college when we fooled around. The red from her blush quickly spreads across her face and neck.

She does agree to show me her nipples in exchange for a glimpse of my chastity belt. I mention that most of the episodes in the story are true, I have piercings on most of my body parts, and my closet at home now has only female clothes for me to choose from. My voice sounds like this now, and I have to strain to get my voice back to a male register.

Other than the writing I will have a part-time job as a receptionist in a beauty salon, then a full-time job as a housewife. I love Ginger dearly; the changes are what I desire, and I approach each day with enthusiasm looking forward to what is in store for me.

If I can make a dollar or two writing, I can pay my own way for clothes and makeup, both of which I love. I wound myself down and looked over at Shirley. She handed me some contracts, explained them to me and had me sign on the bottom line. I would get a five-thousand-dollar advance on the first book, then monthly royalty checks off of the sales of the book. They had planned on most of the books going the route of e-books, but would do a limited print run for the few who insist on hard copies.

She would pay my way to Los Angeles for a photo shoot for advertising material and book covers. There I would be introduced to the company executives, and have a party to launch the book sales officially. The sales that they anticipated seemed high to me, but they are the experts when it comes to that. I asked if she is ready, then we both got up and headed to the ladies room. Luck is with me today since they had some larger than normal stalls where I could shed a few of my clothes for Shirley to see my assets.

She is intrigued as I remove the pantie so she can see my vulva. She runs a finger over the belt in front of my vaginal lips, and I moan. Quickly she withdraws the finger and looks at me, I have to explain that the belt is holding a dildo in my new pussy, and the end of that dildo is right against the tip of my penis. It has been rubbing it for the last three hours, and there is no way to release the pressure or remove the dildo. Let’s just say that I am completely frustrated and about as horny as one female can get.

Now it is your turn, let me see those nipples and tell me you are not just as excited as I am. Red all over from the blushing, she does remove her blouse and unhooks her bra. The nipples are rock hard and a shade or two darker than I remembered. I refrain from touching them, afraid that I will start something I can’t stop. Shirley and I have a long history, several years we were roommates in college, very friendly, just never romantic. I help her put her bra back on, and she helps me adjust my dress. We touch up our makeup and return to the table.

She made sure that I had copies of the contracts telling me that I should expect to fly out to LA in a week, I was welcome to bring my hubby if I wanted, maybe we could all get together for dinner and a club. I gave her a hug squeezing one of her nipples a little, then giggling as I made my way to the front. I drive home slowly, how would I explain this to Ginger, then some of the changes I have experienced recently came to mind, this is nothing even remotely as erotic as what I have already done.

I entered the house and made my way to the bedroom. Ginger is still awake and reading a book. I remove my clothes, slip a nightgown over my head and head for the bathroom to remove my makeup. Ginger asks me to bring back a brush and she will brush my hair for me. I needed to pee, then clean up, grabbing a brush and make my way to the bed. She has me sit on the floor as she sits behind me and starts brushing my hair. It feels so good, as she brushes it slowly running the whole length of the hair. I have goose pimples all over my body from the feeling.

She asks me how the meeting went, I stammer a little, not sure how to tell her about Shirley. So I start about the book deal. She listens intently, but doesn’t seem too surprised. I tell her about the advance, that part she is interested in, you can now buy some more clothes, you know a female can never have too many clothes. Then about the trip to the coast for publicity pictures and advertising. That sealed the deal, now my soulmate is on board with both feet.

It all worked out well, sales of the first book exceeded their initial projections. I am currently writing my second book, Shirley in particular can’t wait to get her hands on it. I am sure she calls me hourly asking how it is coming, well maybe not hourly, but way more than a few times a day.

The best part though is my relationship with Ginger. Best friends, lovers, and anything else you can think of. That promotion they ran was one of their most successful in the chain’s history, I consider myself lucky that I got included, now loved, treasured and well cared for, nothing more could a gurl desire in life and I am definitely that gurl, that wife.

© 2016 thru 2026 by Turnabout Gurl