Carey; Proud And Polished
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 their 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. Cass 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 Cass 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 female 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 2024 by Francesca