Natalie; Caught In The Act

Natalie; Caught In The Act

Dressed in my feminine finery, I stepped out on the deck. The cool days of autumn making it almost pleasant here in the desert southwest. My family and I live here, a few miles south of Phoenix, near the mountains that frame the valley. I am alone in the house, parents vacationing in Europe at their retirement villa, and my older sister working till the wee hours of the morning. This is her month to do the night shift, although she regularly rotates with the other Captains and the Chief. Sis is a Captain in the local police force, a suburb of the actual town of Phoenix, her degree in criminology and her work ethic getting her a premium position much earlier than most people. I am sure her gender helped some too since the local constabulary has suffered through several scandals, mostly dealing with prostitution and payoffs involving their male officers. It is a job she likes and takes the position quite seriously.

With the house to myself, I indulged in my compulsion, hobby, whatever you want to call it. I dress in female clothes whenever I get the chance, in fact, I do a little more than just dress in the clothes. I am hoping to spend an evening laying on the deck staring at the lights of the city. Tonight the outfit is an LBD, which is way too short for me, but one that I loved none the less. Of course, all the appropriate lingerie including stockings attached to my corset.

As far as I knew no one in my family knows of my dressing, a secret I have gone to great lengths to keep. My shoes for the evening are a pair of stiletto pumps with five-inch heels, ones that I am quite comfortable getting around in, the straps over the instep and ankle keeping them secure on my feet.

I have set up a lounge chair on the deck and intend just to sit and watch the lights of the city blink off and on in the night sky. Since the house is in some of the foothills surrounding the valley we have a great view of the entire city and most of its suburbs.

I tasted the lipstick on my lips as I wet them, hoping that my thorough yet limited application of makeup is suitable for the evening. Although I had applied it often, I really have not had any formal training in makeup application. I could feel the weight of my lashes from the three coats of mascara that I had applied, causing me to blink more than I usually do. I often wonder sometimes about my sanity, at home alone and wondering if my makeup is satisfactory.

As I turned my head to follow a shooting star, I felt my chandelier earrings sweep over my neck. What a delicious feeling it made as it brushed my upper chest and neck. I know a normal female would not wear long dangle earrings to set on the deck, but I am not normal, in fact far from it as I am a member of the male sex.

I have known of the compulsion for years but do not often get the chance to partake of my hobby. I was planning to stay dressed until the early hours of the morning, my sister, not due home until after six A.M. A brief gusty breeze swirled across the deck making me shiver a little as it found its way up my dress. I twisted a little in the lounge chair trying to get comfortable when I heard a door slam.

I turned toward the house and panicked. My only way back into the house and safety is through the door that just slammed shut. I presume the wind blew it closed, but the reason is not important, the fact is I am trapped outside. I had carefully wedged the door to keep it open, but obviously failed miserably in that endeavor.

I quickly got up and headed to the door to check to see if it is truly closed and locked. The handle does nothing, my fate sealed in a most dramatic way. Our alarm system, something my sister insisted having installed automatically locks any door from the outside when shut. If you have the key card, it is a simple matter to use one of the terminals to gain access to the house. I didn’t have my card, so I am totally screwed.

I head down the stairs to the driveway, to check the back door, hoping for a miracle, but it too is locked securely. I tried a couple of the first-floor windows, but they too are similarly secured shut. I panic big time, tears coming to my eyes, for the world seems to be conspiring against me at this moment.

I feel desperate now, I have to get inside before I am found like this, my secret sure to be exposed, my fate sealed. Figuring that my sister and my parents will have nothing to do with me when my hobby is revealed, I try every window I can, to find some way into the safety of the house.

When panic takes a hold of a normal person, rational thought usually disappears. In my troubled mind, I rationalized that the only solution is to break a window and get to a keypad in the house then punch in the code before the police are summoned. Now most sane people can see a lot of things wrong with that approach, but since I am not using many brain cells, none of them entered into my irrational thoughts tonight.

My addled brain found a rock near the house and I broke a window. I used the rock to move the broken shards of glass aside, opening the aluminum window frame to gain better access to the house and jumped up to push my way into the house. My dress caught on the lower edge of the frame on an alarm sensor, and I am hung up. As I desperately wiggle to free myself from the window frame, to my horror, the empty aluminum frame comes crashing down on my back and pins me there.

Oh, shit and several other expletives run through my brain, but the sad fact is I am caught, my hands and arms stuck inside the house, unable to twist enough to reach the frame. The rest of my body is dangling outside two feet off the ground unable to reach any ground to stand on, to help my situation.

I hear sirens in the distance, time is running out for me, I try again to do the impossible trying to reach back to move the window and gain freedom. My choice of clothing is not helping any as the corset holds my body rigid and unresponsive. My tears are now flowing freely; my world is coming apart rapidly, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I hear the squad cars turn off their sirens as they come down our street, and then I hear doors opening and closing as the officers’ check out the house.

It doesn’t take them long to make it to the back of the house and find me. My fears are real, and they are right behind me. I hear female voices, both of them approaching me from behind. I am told loudly not to move, stay perfectly still as they approach me. I hear one of the officers call it into the station, a supposed burglary and the suspect apprehended. Then I recognize the officer, Cindy a longtime friend of my sister Marcy is quiet for a minute then asks to speak to the captain.

Oh God no, this is all I need to be arrested and found out that I am male before I even get released from that damn window. The other officer gets the window up and pulls me backward through the open frame and pushes me up against the wall. My hands are pulled behind me, and I am handcuffed. I see Cindy talking to the station, presumably my sister, but she is far enough away from the house that I can’t hear what is being said.

After being handcuffed, Cindy sends the other officer to another call, taking me back to her patrol car and placing me in the back seat. She leans down and attaches the leg irons, a new state law requiring all suspects to be securely fastened for transport in a patrol car. In heels and with my hands handcuffed I am not sure I could get far if I were to escape. She closes the door leaving me secured in the back seat of the car and proceeds to take several photos of the crime scene.

I had tried to tell the officer that handcuffed me that I lived there, but it fell on deaf ears, the fact that I had broken a window and got caught in the frame discounting the fact that I lived there. I have no ID on me, and no one let me retrieve any before I was placed in the patrol car.

Crime scene sure fits the bill, it being a crime for me to be caught trying to get back into the safety of the house. I am in the car for way too long; I guess Cindy is waiting for Marcy to arrive. I finally see her patrol car pull up to the house as she gets out and talks with Cindy. Every so often she looks my way but continues the conversation with Cindy. Once Marcy arrived, I decided to say very little, lest I suffer the consequences of Marcy’s temper.

She disappears around the back of the house, presumably seeing what window had been broken to get access to the house. As she came back around the house, I see her talking on her phone, probably the alarm company filling them in on the attempted break-in. After the call, she heads in my direction, opens the rear door and asks me “just what in the hell did you think you were doing. Talking about stupid, you have just used a year’s worth of dumb.”

“Cindy will take you in and book you, plan on staying the night in a cell, then when I get off in the morning you and I will have a long chat. Make up your mind now that you will be telling me everything about why, how long, and where you got the clothes and makeup. Keep your mouth shut at the station, tell them nothing and definitely no names.”

“Do I make myself clear?” I stuttered yes. “Make that your last word until I get you in the morning. I have to find a way to keep this out of the news, or you will be plastered on every paper in town.” She called Cindy over, and I am driven to the station.

It is the first time I have been arrested, and believe me; I hope it is the last. I am stripped, searched thoroughly including body cavities. I received a pink jumpsuit to wear, did I mention that is all I received to wear, no panties, no underwear, nothing. I am photographed from several different angles and fingerprinted. With the makeup and wig, I doubted that I looked much like a male in the pink jumpsuit. Funny though, at no time while I was being searched was any mention made of my male sex.

Next stop is an interrogation room, and many questions are asked, none of which I answered. I am charged with breaking and entering with intent to steal. I can’t believe this is happening to me.

They called a lawyer for me, but I didn’t talk to him either so I am placed in a cell in the back of the station. It turned out to be a long night; the jumpsuit is far from being comfortable, the mattress on the cot had some strange odors, so that didn’t help either. I am just thankful that I am in the cell alone and not sharing it with someone else.

Finally, some light began to peek through a window high up on the wall; maybe Marcy will get me out of this. Several hours more passed by, I am still handcuffed and in leg irons. Unfortunately also still in the heels since they do not furnish footwear for the prisoners. A prisoner, that thought will be with me for quite some time to come. The crying that I did earlier in the night has pretty much dried up, but the reality of the situation has just begun to sink in.

I will have a record now, doomed in the future for a lot of things that I might have wanted to do with my life. Cindy came to get me, unlocked the cell and took me back up front. I am taken out to a patrol car and placed inside, still cuffed and in the pink jumpsuit. Cindy heads for my house, not saying a word as she drives there. In the driveway, she opens the back door of the squad car and helps me out of the vehicle. I am helped to the back door of the house and escorted inside after she uses a key card to open the door. I do notice that the window I broke has been repaired sometime during the night or early morning.

She leads me to the front room and over to the fireplace. She unlocks my handcuffs then raises my arms over a timber sticking out from above the mantle. They are snapped on again, and I am now stuck here until someone releases my handcuffs. I try to get Cindy to release me, but her only words are you got yourself into this mess, you have to live with the consequences. She leaves the same way she came in, with me standing there in my heels that are beginning to be quite uncomfortable.

Time seems to be standing still since I can’t see a clock I have no idea what time it is and how long I have been here. If Marcy is on time, she should arrive home no later than ten o’clock. I think about what I am going to tell Marcy, quickly deciding on the truth to keep this from getting any worse. I just hope that is adequate, and she believes me if she doesn’t I don’t know what I am going to do.

I hear the back door open and then later see Marcy walk towards me. She sits on the sofa and stares at me for a while, the pink jumpsuit still the only clothes on my body. She clears her throat and tells me to start at the beginning and do not leave anything out. I ask her to release me, but she sees no problem with me as is until I finish telling her my side of the story.

I do start at the beginning and tell her everything, from when I first dressed borrowing some of her clothes and Moms. It is over an hour, and I finally get to last night, telling her how I figured I could get to a keypad before the police were summoned. She laughs, suggesting that my hair color should be blonde, not brunette.

I look down at the floor; my emotions are drained, and I feel so empty. I again ask to be released, but Marcy wants me to suggest a punishment suitable for my escapade. I figure I have been punished enough already, being booked and kept in a cell overnight. Marcy thinks it is just a wake-up call for me; you have been real lucky and last night proved it. If I didn’t work there, you would still be in jail, and probably on the front page of every paper in town.

I knew she is right, but surely what I experienced is enough of a lesson, to make future excursions non-existent. She heads to the kitchen, as she needs to make a few phone calls, telling me not to go anywhere. An hour later she wanders back into the living room, telling me that I need to listen. What she is offering is not a choice, but what I will be doing for the next few months whether I like it or not.

“I have arranged some appointments for you, taking up most of today and tomorrow. You like to dress up, so be it. Nathan is taking a vacation to Europe, and Natalie has graciously decided to stay with me.” When the salon is finished, you will truly be a Natalie for the foreseeable future. I start to protest, but Marcy holds up a finger to silence me. It is not your decision, but you will abide by it.

She removes my leg irons and places one of those cuffs that are trackable around my right ankle. According to her after my transformation, she will remove it too. As she unlocks the handcuffs, she warns me that if I try to escape, I will be locked up again in the general population and left there. She will see to it personally. I am led to the downstairs bath, and the jumpsuit is removed. It is replaced with a pink sweat suit and a different pair of heels. No underwear, just my naked self. I am led out the door and placed in her car.

The short drive to whatever she has in store for me is in silence; she obviously is still quite upset, and I am puzzled by her actions and my humiliation on what has transpired in the last few hours. When we arrive at a salon, she faces me and tells me that I am expected, tell them that Natalie is her for her appointment. Do not cross me; the ankle bracelet is registered to a convict that is considered armed and dangerous. If you are caught out of the salon with it, things will not be pleasant as you are arrested.

I will be back at eight tonight to pick you up and take you home. I have deactivated your driver’s license and credit cards, you either toe the line or you will suffer the consequences, most likely things that are not what you expect. I gingerly get out of the car and walk to the front door. Marcy is scary enough to have impressed the need to do exactly as she requests.

As I walk into the salon, I am greeted by the receptionist, after telling her that I am Natalie here for my appointment a stylist is walking toward me. I look at her, then gasp, it is Victoria, a former girlfriend from high school. Now I know that the stars have aligned to ruin my life totally. I stare down at the floor, but she grabs my hand and leads me to her treatment room. Inside she asks me to take off all my clothes and lay down on the table.

She prepares some cloth strips and stirs a pot of something hot on the nearby counter. She asks how I have been, being especially nice in her phrasing of the words. I asked her what all has been planned for me, seeing that she had a card with my name on the top, the name Natalie, not Nathan is printed on the top. She looks at the card, then as casually as she can muster, you have been scheduled for the full transformation by your sister. By tomorrow night, you will be as feminine as I am.

I started to cry, but males don’t cry so I attempted to stifle the tears. Victoria sees the tears, telling me that it is alright to cry, it helps to relieve the tension and anxiety. She gently holds me as I cry, I have made such a mess out of my life, and any choices that I may have had, are vanishing. Here I am her former boyfriend naked as a baby and scheduled to be transformed into a female. Things can’t get much worse for me.

She gently lies me back on the table and spreads some warm substance over a portion of my leg. Then places a cloth strip over the area and yanks. I start to reach down to soothe the area but catch myself.

I am being waxed to remove what little body hair I might have been able to grow in my eighteen years on this planet. She asks if I want to be restrained, some of the areas are more sensitive than the leg and can be quite painful. I silently nod my head, a couple more hours restrained will not be a big deal. She fixes straps on my wrists and ankles and a strap around each knee to keep me somewhat rigid.

Over the next hour, she methodically removes every hair on my body except what is on top of my head. It did get easier until she got to my groin. I asked why there, she just smiled. “I have to fix an appliance there to give you a vagina, and it needs to be applied over hair free skin. I suddenly realized how far my sister is going to carry this punishment, or whatever she wants to call it.

The groin is indeed painful, the tears freely falling from my red and swollen eyes. Victoria has been unusually quiet through all of this; I am sure she doesn’t know what to say to a former boyfriend that is being transformed into a female. After she has eliminated my eyebrows, I tell her that it is okay to kid me, I have made this mess that I am in by myself, so I can take any comments that she might make.

To my surprise, she wanted to know the circumstances of my quote mess. I tell her the full story, since she will be doing my full transformation, I can’t imagine anything I tell her to cause me more trouble than I have already suffered. She listens attentively to my story, and only then do I realize that she has tucked my male equipment away behind the two soft lips of a vagina. I start to say something; she just smiles informing me that she used a numbing spray so that I wouldn’t feel anything.

Talking about a different feeling down there, this has to be the ultimate change. Looking down past my stomach I see a flat front with two soft sensuous lips highlighted by the smooth hairless skin surrounding them not what I have been used to seeing. I feel a few tingles; I guess the spray is wearing off but am instantly aware of how this changes everything. I dressed completely quite often as a female, but afterward, I could always retreat to my male persona. Now that male character is gone, the vagina and soon boobs will change all of that. The impersonation will be 24/7, not just when I feel the desire to do so.

Speaking of boobs, that is Vicky’s next project. She moves a scary machine in, with me still strapped to the table, and makes adjustments to the cups hanging down from the machine. She adds some blob that matches my skin color and lowers the cups so that they are directly over my nipples. The cups are secured with a medical adhesive and I gasp as she turns on the machine and it starts sucking my skin into the cups. After the cups are half full, the machine starts pulsating first sucking, then relaxing, to start sucking again shortly thereafter.

I wonder about the machine’s changes to my body, but I get the impression that one way or the other I soon will be a female in appearance including some significant appendages on the chest. From the size of the cups with my flesh being sucked into them, I would say that well-endowed might be an appropriate description.

As the machine is working on my pectorals, Victoria starts on my nails. It seems to take quite a while for her to turn my chewed, dirty nails into something a little more human. My dressing never took into consideration my nails; it was mainly clothes, lingerie, and a little makeup. With the manicure completed, the polish is next after a conditioning base coat. Pink Candy Delight is the color de jour today, three coats followed by a glossy sealant. My fingernails are just past my fingertips, but the color really makes them pop. I am not that hip, but I always wanted to say that in a conversation. Ten toenails later the look is consistent with both my feet and hands.

As she fusses with my ears, I am afraid that earrings are in my future. Sure enough, she takes a marker and marks each ear. If the touch of the marker is any indication more than one hole in each ear is a definite possibility. As she takes the piercing gun in hand three holes in each ear appear, two in the lower lobe and one in the cartilage near the top of the ear. As the second ear gets its studs, I wonder how much this is going to affect my future as a male, if there is to be any future in the male gender. Males do get their ears pierced, but usually not three in each ear.

I am sure the appliance attached down below can be removed eventually, but the breasts being sucked from my body, probably not so easy to make go away. When out on the deck in my feminine finery, I doubted that my intention was to stay as a member of the female sex indefinitely.

I wondered about my sister’s reaction to my dressing and eventual arrest figured into all of this. It is not a subject that I want to bring up and discuss any time in the future. Then there are my parents, liberal in some things, but their son dressed as a woman probably beyond their ability to cope. If my escapade makes any press or even just talked about around the neighborhood, I doubt they will support me in any way.

Too many people know them, and their reputation in the city has been pristine until this latest debacle from me. I began to wonder what sis has done to minimize any impact on the family. She has not said anything to me about what happened, just that I go through this procedure, not giving any resistance to anything done to me. I can’t see her going farther with my dressing, but that seems to be what is happening. Maybe she will calm down enough to tell me my fate, and what she has planned for me.

Vicky next works on my hair, shampoo, and then conditioner, followed by a cut to turn my longish locks into more of a feminine hairstyle. Extensions are the first thing on the agenda for tomorrow, but I need to have a female look for tonight. The tongs of the curling iron wrapping around sections of my hair turn the straight tresses into curly springs.

As she turns off the pump on the breast apparatus, my cups are almost full, way bigger than any forms I have worn in the past. The hoses are detached from the cups, but the cups are left on filled with my excess chest material so that the tissue can stabilize. They will eventually dissolve themselves leaving only soft breast tissue in its place. After releasing me from the table, I try to stand, the weight of the breasts almost toppling me forward. She picks up a corset from the side table, a lot heavier and sexier model than the cheap one that I often wore at home.

It finds its way around my waist and then the front busks are hooked. It has partial cups that are nestled underneath the breasts and extends to the top of my thighs. I imagine I will not be able to do much when this is cinched up. She starts pulling on the laces, tightening them more and more. I am asked to grab a bar that is slightly over my head then she hits a switch that raises the bar until I am standing on my tiptoes.

That action allows her to tighten the corset some more, but when she puts her knee in the middle of my back to get extra leverage, the last of the slack is removed from the laces. I am told to release the bar, but as my arms come down the pain shoots through me. Vicky suggests that I raise my arms again and then slowly lower them over the next twenty minutes. That will allow the tissue that is squeezed out of the corset to settle and find a spot that will not cause as much pain.

I am helped back onto the table, lying on my back, not comfortable but also not causing pain. Makeup is next some mascara, eyeliner, rouge, and lipstick. Tomorrow she will match some foundation to my skin color, and remove the few faint signs of a beard permanently. A spray is used to set the makeup after I have closed my eyes, and then I am helped up. The forms are checked, they are already somewhat flexible not rigid like they were when the machine started. My breasts easily fill the cups of the corset and more. I am fascinated since I can feel them touch the inside of the cups of the corset, even through the remaining forms. These will definitely require some getting used to.

According to Vicky, the corset will be a part of my clothing for at least four weeks, a new smaller corset to be changed into after two weeks. I am helped into a dress, a simple A-line with a full skirt and heels added to my feet. They have an ankle strap and four-inch stiletto heels with a bow at the vamp of the shoe. The dress is a shade of pink and the heels are ivory with a pink bow.

Somehow pink seems to be the color choice of all my clothes. Marcy more likely the reason for that color to be used. According to Vicky, I am ready for my debut, and she removes the cover over the mirror. All I see is a young female with way too much bust and a super thin waist. There is not a hint of Nathan in the image; he is now MIA.

I am led up to the front reception and told that my sister will be by shortly to pick me up. I try to sit to wait for her, but the corset discourages any such action vehemently. Fifteen minutes later Marcy comes into the salon to get me. She walks right past me to reception asking if Natalie is finished yet. I tap her on the shoulder and say that I am ready. I do get a funny look from her, and then she grabs my hand and leads me to her car. Apparently, the change in my appearance is enough to keep my sister from recognizing me.

The heels are giving me a little trouble, but each step becomes a little easier. With the corset and the short steps that I am required to take because of the heels, I feel my butt swaying a little. I manage to get into the car, butt first and then swing my legs in. The corset though is affecting my ability to sit comfortably, definitely an uneasy situation. Marcy stops me and reaches down to release the ankle bracelet.

We drive towards the other side of the city away from our house, but I know enough to keep my mouth shut. She pulls up in front of a diner, one that the police frequently eat at; the food is reasonable, and the meals are more generous than most. I am led into the diner, and she takes me back to a private room used for parties and celebrations. She pulls out my chair for me then scoots it up when I am seated. The waitress shows up and sis orders for us. A couple of appetizers, and two glasses of iced tea.

She starts off with her plans for my future. She had me arrested and booked to keep that an option if I decided not to follow through. The records will be expunged if I do as I am told in the future. She had a judge set bail for me, and your savings have been used to post that bail. If you skip, that money goes to the bondsman. Hopefully, those conditions will convince you to cooperate fully.

Now as to your transformation. She paused as our order is brought out and continued when the waitress left. Your transformation is temporary provided you give the femininity a chance to see if that is really what you want. “This is not a game that you play when you want to, if you are a female, it is 24/7, boobs and permed hair can’t be taken off so you can have some boy time. That is why you will be living as a female for some time, to see if the real life of a female is what you want.”

“If you handle the experience half-assed, you will have to come up with the money yourself to reverse it. For the near future, I expect you to live and work as a female 24/7 till we see what your true desires are. That means total immersion, dating a male, shopping for clothes, housework, everything a female would do you are going to do also.”

She paused to eat some of the food; I nibbled a little but with the corset cutting me in two, the appetite is not there. The little bit I did have is very good, but there is nowhere to put anymore, the corset totally squashing my stomach. I did drink quite a bit of the iced tea, noticing lipstick marks on the rim of the glass. That right there stressing the degree of change that has transpired.

“Tomorrow the salon will finish your transformation, longer nails, extensions for your hair, a treatment designed to require you to wear heels to walk, makeup application, and some enhancements for your hips. Some of the makeup will be semi-permanent, and finally an adjustment to your voice, so you sound like a female.”

“The next day you start looking for a job, no help from me, the job needs to be where you can take the bus to and from, you will not be driving. I have had a resume made for you with references that can be checked and a state I.D. for verification of your identity. Starting now you will contribute to the household budget and be responsible for buying your own clothes and cosmetics.”

“I know this sounds harsh, but you do not realize the kind of trouble you could have brought down on yourself and our family. I think I have managed to stem any leaks, but we will not know for sure if all the holes have been plugged. I have told Mom and Dad; Mom is looking forward to meeting her other daughter, but as far as Dad goes Nathan is dead. He will eventually come around, but it will take a considerable amount of time for that to happen.”

“Now do I have your word that you will try and make a go of this, or do I need to return you to the jail.” I swallowed hard, but told her I will try, right at the moment I am scared to death. She grabbed me, holding me tightly in her embrace, I do love you and want to help, but when Cindy told me how she found you, I was real mad. It was noon the next day before I realized that if I had not allowed you to be arrested and booked, I would have probably beaten you within an inch of your life.”

“So much of what Mom and Dad have worked for, and what I have strived to obtain could have come tumbling down in an instant, all because of you. I looked at my feet, started crying in earnest, trying to mouth the words that I am sorry, so very sorry. Marcy held me tighter, whispering in my ear that everything will be alright now Natalie. Nathan has been sent away; he can’t cause any more trouble now.”

I guess my new existence as Natalie will indeed cause no trouble, dressing in female clothes and makeup is what Nathan wanted to do. Now Natalie can do that every day, and there will be no fallout. However, there can be no Nathan anymore, a vagina but more importantly, boobs make the appearance of Nathan an impossibility. As Nathan, I wanted to dress as often as I could get away with it, but now Natalie is going to be a 24/7 type of female. Nathan is no more, at least until Sis changes her mind, which I doubt will ever happen.

When we arrive home, I am told to go to the kitchen. As I arrive, I see my new resume, my state I.D. and a new key card for the house. Marcy informs me that this card is keyed only for me so that she can look on a computer to see if I am home yet. I am told I have a curfew now, 10:00 most nights unless I clear it with her in advance. Also is a list of weekly chores that Natalie is now responsible for, to be finished by Sunday of every week.

I am told to get ready for bed, there are wipes in your bathroom to remove the makeup, and the corset stays on until the four-week period is up except for baths. I head upstairs to my room, stopping and staring at the vision of my room when the door opened. The centerpiece in the room now is a canopy bed, with matching dressers and chest of drawers along with a vanity, all done in a French provincial white with a gold trim. I stare at where I will be staying now, definitely Natalie’s room now.

Quickly I checked the closet and dresser, all of my male clothes and shoes are gone. In fact, both are empty; I presume Marcy has donated them to some charity, another way to be sure that I comply with her wishes.

I enter and sit on the side of the bed to remove my heels. With the corset that was a feat in itself trying to reach the straps. I slipped off the dress as I stand again, then slip on the nightie conveniently left for me to wear. The sensations as the gown slides over my body send ripples of pleasure to every part of my body. When I took the time to enjoy my hobby as Nathan, I don’t remember any of these feelings or sensations.

I walked into the bathroom and tried to use the toilet. It had taken quite a while before the communication reached my hidden apparatus to finally let go and empty into the toilet. Then the fact that it seemed to spray everywhere, causing me to use more than a few sheets of toilet paper to wipe myself dry. You never seem to know how good you have things until they are taken away from you.

I used some cosmetic wipes and removed my makeup, then brushed my hair a little, with my new hair brush. I returned to the bed, slid the covers back and slid into the bed. The nightie on the sensuous sheets felt so good; then I discovered one of the disadvantages of femaleness, boobs. I usually sleep on my stomach, but the new endowments make that pretty much an impossibility.

I tried laying on my back, but it didn’t seem comfortable, then on my side, until one of my new titties fell out of the cup of the corset, so I slid it back in. The half cups on the corset are fine in supporting the weight when standing, but lateral movement is still possible. Very shortly after squirming around for a while, I decided on my back is the best option to prevent pinching of my new assets. I got up and retrieved one of the multitude of stuffed animals now in the room, a cuddly teddy bear and scooted back into bed with her in my arms. The plush toy had a cute ruffled skirt around her waist, definitely a female teddy bear.

Marcy checked on me, smiling when she saw the teddy bear that I had chosen to sleep with for comfort. She set down on the edge of the bed, telling me a little more about what is planned.

“You need to do as I ask so that we can see if there is more to this than you just dressing in female clothes once in a while. You have always been withdrawn, happy to be left alone, and reluctant to do something for yourself. Lots of opportunities have been given you, but you passed on all of them and missed a lot of chances to better yourself.”

“Maybe there is something in you that is wanting to get out and express itself. Even though I got so mad at you for your stunt, I want to help you find some kind of happiness in this world before you go out on your own. So I want you to experience some different parts of life to see if you are better suited to one of them. Since you dressed as a female that is where we will start. I do love you, but quite often your brain is left idling at the light as life passes you by.” She kissed me on the cheek, also Teddy and then left the room.

Sleep did eventually come to me, and fortunately, there are no bad dreams. The only thing I distinctly remember is the desire to be restrained in some way. I don’t know if it was a part of a dream or just random thoughts that my mind was processing. After the arrest, the booking, and the time in the cell, something in my mind snapped. Maybe snapped is too harsh a word, let’s just say that it isn’t as bad as it seemed, the feeling of being secure in my bonds almost pleasant in a weird sort of way.

At the breakfast table in the morning, things are still strained between Sis and me. My diet has changed, some fresh fruit and some juice is all that I am allowed. According to Sis, I have to lose about twenty-five pounds for my new gender. That will put me at one hundred thirty pounds, appropriate for my five feet ten inches in height, according to Marcy. The sweat suit again is the clothing for the day, no underwear again, and a ponytail for the hair.

I get in the car, and then whisked off to the salon. Marcy informs me that I will be taken clothes shopping later today, then dropped off at the mall for an errand that I need to perform. After that is performed, I can call her on my cell phone, and she will pick me up. Tomorrow you start riding the bus and looking for work, no excuses.

As I enter the salon, Vicky leads me back to an office near the back and introduces me to Francine, the owner of the salons, here in town to visit and check on this salon. She is a very elegant lady who seems secure in her actions and beliefs. She asks me to tell her the whole story, from the start. She has already talked to Marcy and Victoria but wants to hear it from me. I sigh and begin my tale; now the shame seems to be less significant since more people know what has transpired to get me to this point. The shame might be less, but the embarrassment is still real and high.

When I finish the tale, she asks what I want to do with my life. I didn’t really know what I wanted, this current situation having taken over much of my brain thought process. She prods me a little more, wanting to know if college is a possibility, I tell probably not since I have never been able to apply myself to my studies.

In high school I am lucky to get a C in the class, art and sociology the only two exceptions where I managed a B. I did enjoy art, creating something with my hands is always enjoyable. I mentioned about Marcy’s requirement for me to get a job; I will probably have to settle for anything I can find to satisfy her. I guess Mickey D’s is a real possibility in my future.

Then Francine suggests that I work for her for a few weeks to see if I might fit in and enjoy it. It is only an entry level job, but can work into something else if I desire it to; that part is solely up to you. It is minimum wage, and you can take the bus to and from, we would like you to join us, but you have to apply yourself 100%, or you will be gone in a couple of days. The job is not a charity offer, we think you have some potential if you work hard, but that has to come from you. Think about it as Victoria works on you today and see me before you leave to let me know if you are interested.

Vicky leads me to her treatment room, and I am stripped and placed on the table again. Two half casts are placed under my lower legs, and the straps are tightened forcing my leg into a position where I am standing on my tiptoes. She then injects a syringe full of chemicals into each leg. There is no pain, but I will now have to stand on my tiptoes to be able to walk. It almost seems that I can feel the tendons tightening in my legs, impossible you might say, but I have a bad feeling about this.

The table back is raised leaving me in a sitting position and Vicky access to my head. Hair extensions are next, quite long in a light blonde color. My hair is naturally light brown, so the extensions give it a frosted look. It takes her three hours to add all the extensions to my hair, and the finished look is definitely frosted. The lighter color, making my hair much more noticeable. The new length is mid shoulder blade, and it seems like I have twice the hair that I had before. It is so thick and luxurious that it seems to sparkle in the light of the salon. It also makes my face look smaller and rounded, increasing the female look of my head.

The table back is lowered again, and I am now lying flat on the table. With my legs still in the casts, she helps me turn over, and the dreaded suction machine is brought back in. Two larger forms are attached to the hoses and situated over my rear end. Significantly more of the blobby material is added to each form, and the machine is started. I just hope that the hip enhancements are not as showy as the breast endowments.

As the machine works its miracle on my hips, she brings a bottle of another liquid and a plastic syringe that she could get some of the liquid into my mouth while lying this way on my stomach. She adds a squirt to my mouth and has me swallow, then talk in a normal voice. On the third shot of the liquid, my voice seems higher, also a little more breathy. She waits and gives me another shot of the liquid, then asks me to say something again. This time, the voice that comes out is feminine, way too female in my way of thinking, but since I have no choice, I guess it will have to do.

I stutter out a question about my voice, hoping that it is only a temporary treatment, but Vicky replies that it is semi-permanent until the antidote is given. Her definition of semi-permanent is about a year. I close my eyes, surely this is all a dream, and I will soon wake, and everything will be as it was before.

Vicky pulls my arms forward where they are on the table in front of where I am laying. She moves her cart of nail polishes and accessories to the head of the table and starts on the extensions for my nails. After she has removed the polish, an acrylic extension is selected to fit each finger. Then she uses a special glue the salon has developed to glue each extension to my existing nail. Unlike other nail glue this glue bonds the acrylic with the natural nail forming a very hard indestructible nail that can’t be cut or filed, except with diamond files.

The extensions are at least a half inch past my natural nail, making my largish hands look quite a bit more feminine and dainty. Polish again is applied, three coats of a red burgundy polish and then a glossy top coat. The color is called Sunset over the Rockies, an apt name for this shade of polish. I figured that Vicky has done almost everything possible to make my transformation to female believable, but then I forgot the makeup. Saved by the bell, the machine is still sucking my butt into the forms. Thus, I can’t turn over until it’s done.

Assumptions are seldom correct, and mine has been wrong 100% of the time. The machine is turned off temporarily, and the hoses are unhooked. She helps me off the table and then opens a portion of the table leaving a hole in it. I am helped back onto the table then leaned back so that the forms are situated over the hole in the table. My leg casts are strapped to the table; then another strap is applied to my waist, leaving my butt unattached to anything. The hoses are hooked back up and my hip development continues.

The end of the table under my upper back is raised and locked in a semi-upright position so that Vicky can apply my makeup. The image in the mirror across the room is feminine, an attractive young woman, naked and obviously scared. I sigh for the hundredth time today, each minute some other step in my transformation to that of a female is doled out, and there seems to be no way to stop it or slow it down.

Vicky is really excited about this part, makeup is her favorite salon task, as she brings a large tray of assorted cosmetics to the table. First, she rubs cream into my beard area, using gloves to do so, so I figured the cream to be pretty strong. The cream is allowed to stay on for thirty minutes as she trims the hair extensions to match my previous cut. Only a few longer strands and a general evening out of the cut is performed, leaving all the length intact.

The cream is removed, and any five o’clock shadow with it. Vicky assures me that it is permanent, and I will no longer have to shave. Then she starts on my makeover. First, a moisturizer is applied all over my face; then a plumper is applied to my lips. That needs to stay on a while as she is working on my other makeup. Individual lashes are applied, over seventy on each eyelid. They are quite a bit longer than my regular lashes, causing me to blink quite often. It is almost as if my eyelids are heavier now, but the part that is hardest to get used to is the fringe that I look through every time I blink my lashes.

From there she uses some eyeliner, and shadow, both long lasting, the key to their longevity is that the makeup stains the eyelid, making it semi-permanent. The concealer, the foundation, and the blush are regular cosmetics, able to be removed with makeup pads. The excess plumper is removed so that she can add color to my lips. She outlines the lips with a lip liner, then adding lipstick to fill in the rest. Again both are stains, lasting for approximately six months.

The hoses on the forms on my hips are disconnected and I am helped up after the casts are removed from my legs and I instantly raise up on my tip toes, the pain radiating through my legs way too painful, almost throbbing in its intensity if I don’t. The butt forms are removed leaving a significant protrusion where there was little yesterday. It seemed that I was wearing a pillow on my butt, the fat soft and flexible, bouncing around as I moved just like my breasts. The corset narrows my waist and supports my new breasts giving me an hour glass figure. Nathan is definitely gone, no longer even on the team roster.

The image in the mirror, the true test of her skills in transforming me into a female. She has exceeded any expectations as the female Natalie is all that shows. Nathan has been eradicated completely, not a smudge, blemish, or anything masculine is left to hint at the true gender of the person standing before the mirror. I stood mesmerized by my image, looking at my face and body in the mirror, seeing nothing that used to be.

I loved the look, but to be this way every waking moment is maybe more that I can handle. Reality has a way of changing how you see and view things, the choice of being a female no longer a matter to be discussed or talked about, now just a fact of life.

Clothes are next some panties in a bikini style, and then some hose attaching to the straps on the bottom of the corset. A pair of pumps with five-inch stiletto heels are next, definitely helping with the calves of my leg. Vicky informs me that a five-inch heel is the minimum that I can get by with, anything lower and I will experience some pain. A pencil skirt in a burgundy pattern, made of silk and only coming down to mid-thigh. The ivory sweater, a long sleeve creation with a plunging neckline and tight enough to highlight any curves I might possess.

I am already sporting earrings; a necklace is added that blends in with the diamond studs. She has me apply another coat of gloss to my lips, then pronounces me ready. I ask if I can see Francine before I leave and Vicky happily leads me back to her office.

I ask her if the offer is still open for me to work here if so I would like to take her up on that possibility. Francine smiles telling me I start the day after tomorrow at nine A.M. Vicky will get you a uniform to wear, and you will be assisting her for the first few days. We will see to it that you get a few more outfits to wear, plus several more uniforms so that you can wear a fresh one every day.

Vicky handed me a purse with the makeup she used in it and led me out to her car. I am driven to the mall, about twenty minutes away. She hands me a list that Marcy had given her. It is the items that I am to buy by myself, and then a task that I am to do before I can call her to pick me up. I read the note then blushed right down to my toes.

The note says that I am to buy a package of tampons, and a box of feminine douche. I am to go to the female restroom, douche myself, and then insert a tampon and return to the food court. Vicky will be waiting for me there. Then I am to go shopping with Vicky for lingerie and clothes, trying everything on then make my selections.

No pants, capris or shorts are to be allowed, only dresses and skirts. Sometime during the trying on of clothes I am to show Vicky the string of the tampon, proving that I have inserted it. After making my clothes and lingerie selections, I am to return to the food court, call my sister and wait there for her to come and pick me up. I am given some cash to pay for the tampons and douche and she sends me off to do the deed. Vicky has a credit card for the clothing purchases after I make my selections.

The hardest part is buying the feminine products. Males just don’t do things like this, much less wear them. Then I realized what Sis is doing, I am not a male anymore, and using tampons and douching is a female thing. Since I am now a female it is what I do now. As I made my way to the register to pay I felt like every eye in the store is on me. Then when the cashier asks if I found everything I almost jumped out of my skin.

I did manage to complete the ordeal, then faced with the need to use them, I let out a big sigh, then headed to the female restroom. I found a stall, then arranged my purchases on a shelf on the back of the stall door. I raised my skirt, lowered my panties and read the instructions. With a shaking hand, I inserted the nozzle of the douche in my new vagina, almost moaning out loud with the sensations it caused as it slid into my new vagina.

When I squeezed the bottle, the rush of liquid seemed to invade every nook and cranny of my vagina. I leaked tears; this is so humiliating, then the douche leaking out again caused weird feelings. I wondered how natural females put up with all of this. After I had removed the douche bottle, I picked up a tampon. As I looked at the box it came out of I realized I had picked up the super absorbent large size.

Oh great, now not only do I have to put it in, but it is the biggest size they make. After removing the wrapper, I inserted the tube in my new orifice. Another moan, this time, more loudly, then I depressed the plunger, and the tampon slid out of the tube into its new home for a while. I doubt it, but I thought I could feel it expanding in my vagina, and then I panicked hoping I hadn’t got the string in there too.

If it isn’t where it should be, how would I get it out? I reached between my legs, frantically searching for the string, hoping that I hadn’t been stupid enough to get it caught with the tampon. With a tremendous sense of relief, I found the string, tugging it a little I found out it had swelled sufficiently enough to be firmly situated in my vagina. I wondered about removing it later, but this already is way too much for me to handle so that thought will have to play second fiddle for a while.

The shopping is kind of fun after I got over the initial reaction of doing anything so feminine. The third time I am headed to the changing room to try on an outfit that I had picked out, I finally figured out that I will be a female for the foreseeable future. Marcy has already informed me that I will be doing all things that a young woman does. With my new assets the body is already in female mode, now to just get the mind to join the campaign. The shopping, the tampon thing, and interacting with Vicky simply a device to ensure that I admit it to them and also to myself.

With five complete outfits picked out Vicky agrees to the termination of the shopping episode. The first time that I tried on an outfit, I took Vicky back to the dressing room with me and showed her the string of the tampon. Because she is a former girlfriend, the shame of doing this seems almost too much to bear. Vicky does a little tug on the string and then brakes out giggling. I thought she is laughing at me, but she assures me she isn’t. Just anxious to get to someplace that she can remove it and replace it with other more appropriate items.

That causes more blushing, I have an idea of what she is talking about, but then thought back to our dating where I never made it this close to her vagina, and here she is talking about doing what I wanted to do to her, to little old me. What a turn of events, all as a result of a disastrous experience with my hobby.

I must remember to ask Marcy what she did do about my escapade, what she had to do to cover it up. On several occasions, she has mentioned reporters going over police reports looking for something to sensationalize. The fact that I am related to the captain of the police force would no doubt assure some prominent placement in the news.

Thinking about that night again, why didn’t Marcy just have Cindy put me back into the house, and leave it like that? No report necessary since I lived at the residence. There must be something else in Marcy’s objective that I am missing.

With bags of clothes in hand, I called Marcy on her cell phone and tell her that I have finished my tasks. I told her that I am in the food court, next to the Chinese place. She told me to walk to the exit next to the food court, and she will be there in ten minutes. I meander to the exit looking at the shop windows as I go. As I open the door to leave the mall, Marcy is there and honks. I make my way to her car, and then situate myself in the seat. At least, she doesn’t have the squad car, so I am allowed to sit in the front seat this time.

She heads off to another one of her favorite eateries, this one closer to home and one that I often utilize. We made our way inside and were promptly seated in a booth by the front window. There are only a couple of booths up front, so it is very private. The remainder of the seating is in the large dining room. Marcy orders salads again, and iced tea to drink.

After being served, I ask her about her choice of events on that fateful night. She is aware of what I am asking about, but asked if she hadn’t pursued the scarier scenario, would I have broken down and confessed all. I guess she is right; I ended up so scared of her, and what she might do to me, I spilled the beans without further intervention from her.

She confided in me that both she and Mom have been aware of my activities for at least three years. I just didn’t do anything where I could have been easily caught, to force a confession. That night changed all of that; you got caught by your own hands, in a most comprising situation. Unfortunately, that situation could have backfired on you, and you could have lost all manner of dignity for both yourself and your family.

I decided that a firm, decisive response, might keep everything under wraps and encourage you to confide in me your desires and fantasies. I was lucky enough to plug the usual leaks from the police force, as Cindy handled the arrest in a way that steered any connection to who you were away from the truth. You, not giving any name also helped derail a few inquisitive souls, then when I had you removed from the station and taken home, the reporters moved on to other newer more interesting subjects.

“The fact of a judge setting bail is true, if you back out of your deal with me I will show no mercy, you will find yourself back in jail, in a place where you don’t want to go, and I will not get you out. I know it will affect the family and me, but something has to be done before you really do get yourself into bigger trouble. So keep that in mind sis, cooperate or face the consequences.”

I knew Marcy is serious; frankly, I am still scared shitless of her. “I know I have screwed up big time, and I deserve everything that I have received. I will do everything you ask, just please allow me time to get used to a few of these things, before you add more to the mix. I secretly have wanted some of these things to happen to me, but wanting it and experiencing them first hand is vastly different.”

Earlier that day Vicky asked me to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Being surprised at the invite, I wondered why she still wanted anything to do with me. When we dated before, the relationship is minimal at best, with me doubting that I was the type of male that she might be interested in. Someone new, maybe a dinner or two, but nothing more.

The dating lasted through three separate outings, a kiss or two exchanged, but no heartthrobs or even an adrenalin rush. Any attempts on my part to secure further dates were rejected by her. Too busy, somewhere else to go, and the old standby about washing her hair were all used. In the end, the numerous hints received, and I quit asking.

In school we exchanged pleasantries, but that is the extent of any conversation between us. After graduation we lost contact with each other, her going to beauty school and me doing what I became noted for, and that is nothing. At my first appointment, she told me she finished her beauty training at Turnabout Gurl Salons, getting her cosmetologist license about a year ago.

I meanwhile just goofed off, university seemed to be an impossible goal, my high school grades barely good enough for me to graduate, much less gain any entrance to a school of higher learning. I talked a good game about how I was going to get a job, but when the time came, I ended up never leaving the house. Sis tried to force me to do something, but my parents always let me slide, I doubted that they thought me landing a job was even a possibility.

Now due to my escapade, I no longer had any choice. Marcy insisted that I secure a job, now as a female instead of my birth sex. I cleared the dinner invite with Marcy, a new requirement since my monumental blunder. She verified my request by calling Vicky, checking to be sure that I indeed had been invited. The call lasted way past that part of the conversation, hearing only half of it, I am not sure what all had been discussed.

I resented being checked on, but I was the one to place myself in this predicament, as a result of my actions on that fateful night. When Marcy finally hung up, I was told that I can go but needed to take a nightie with me. I would be staying the night, so I am to be on my best behavior, any missteps will be dealt with severally.

She will drop me off at the salon at four P.M. on her way to work; Vicky will then take me to her home from there after work. Vicky had my new uniforms for work, and that the next day would be my first day at work at the salon. I will be riding in with Vicky to work. With a look that seemed to bore right through my soul, she asked if I could be trusted to behave.

“Yes I will behave, please can you give me a little credit for trying. I know I have let you down, but I want to make amends, and I will do exactly as you wish until I have regained some of that trust.” Those last words barely heard as my throat was like the Sahara desert and almost paralyzed with fear. Recent actions by Marcy have convinced me of her seriousness and resolve. To be blunt, I am still scared to death of her.

Although it is early, I am told to get ready for bed, and she will tuck me in later. I briefly considered telling her that I didn’t need tucking in, but common sense told me that would not be the best course of action. I was still hungry, but there didn’t seem to be any leeway in her request.

An hour later she came into my room, checked on my nightie, then told me to roll over on my stomach. I turned over placing my hands next to my body with my head turned to the side looking to see what will happen next. She pulled first one hand behind my back then the other fastening them in a pair of handcuffs. I started to protest, but was told to be quiet, or she will gag me. Then she reached under my nightie and pulled my panties off me.

“Now you can go the bathroom without any assistance.” As sis stated the obvious, I was also told that she had set my cell phone to call her number if any keys are pressed.

I am leaving for work now, but remember that any call for assistance will be answered by one of the female deputies who have been instructed to treat you as a suspect and will transport you to the precinct for further evaluation. Remember how you are dressed before any wild thoughts run through that mind of yours. You be good, and I will see you in the morning.

Another thought of protesting her actions quickly entered my mind, but one look from Marcy quickly dispelled that notion. I tried to stay angry at her for my situation, but secretly I loved being in restraints again. I must be crazy, who loves being handcuffed and helpless besides me.

Surprisingly I drifted off to sleep shortly after that, sleeping soundly until the early morning. I discovered that besides waking up, I desperately need to use the bathroom. I doubted my bladder could hold any more liquid, and every twist and turn threatened to break the dam. As I fought to extricate myself from my bed, I am sure that I leaked a little as I made my way to the bathroom. Having your hands in cuffs behind your back does not make any of this easier. Then in the bathroom, I had to swing my body around to get my nightie out from between my body and the toilet. I think I finally managed to accomplish that, and as my butt hit the toilet seat, a flood of liquid cascaded into the toilet.

The next problem is how I am going to wipe myself some. When the flood started the liquid sprayed everywhere, typical for a female, but not this converted male to female model. By twisting and turning, I was able to back up to the toilet paper and grab a little in my hands to wipe myself. Then more stretching of my cuffed hands as I attempted to wipe my butt. It turned out to be an exercise in soaking some of the pee up, and not wiping.

When I returned to the bed, I laid down on my side then attempted to get on my stomach. Unlike last night, my breasts seemed to be in the way and several times I was pinched in the ensuing attempt to get comfortable. I gave up shortly after that and slept on my side. I should qualify that statement as I made an effort to get back to sleep, but any more sleep was denied me.

I became alert quickly when I heard someone enter the house. Suddenly my pulse quickened, and my breathing became ragged as I tried to figure out if it was Marcy or my worst nightmare. I sure hope it is Marcy. Otherwise, I am in big trouble. The alarm not going off, should have clued me to the identity of the intruder, but when scared to death rational thought doesn’t exist.

Twenty minutes later she entered the room, and I let out a quite audible sigh. She giggled at my look of fear and what I had presumed might happen. She checked on my cuffs, after helping me get out of bed, then removed the cuffs. I started to protest about being left like that, but the smile that appeared on her face made me cringe. She held up the cuffs, showing me the quick release buttons on each cuff. I lowered my head in shame; I could have gotten out any time I wanted just by pushing one simple little button.

She had an idea that I enjoyed the bondage a little too much, so ran a test last night to see if her theories are correct. She pointed to a camera mounted in the corner of the room that fed video to her office, where she had watched me the entire night. The fact that I fell asleep immediately a sure indication that the bondage comforted me not antagonized me. Since I didn’t try to get loose, protesting about it would be a waste of my time and energy.

It is just another side of your personality, one that you should admit to and learn to live with it. Any attempts to try bondage yourself should be done with planning and safety measures in place. Self-bondage should always be prefaced with letting someone know of your intentions so that they can check on you after a set time. Unfortunately, some don’t heed the advice and die a tragic death because of their stupidity.

Kind of like you being caught outside the house dressed. No backup plan if things didn’t go as you intended. Females in general always think through the what if scenario. They go on a date, the guy goes further than she is comfortable with, and how will she get home. You got caught outside the house in female apparel, no spare keycard, and no phone to call for help, no place to go to wait for me to come let you in. This is what I am talking about.

I admitted that I liked to be restrained, but preferred someone to do it to me, not to do it to myself. Marcy suggested that I keep an eye out for a partner that maybe would complement me in my quest. A dominant to my submissive would be a perfect match for me. If I find someone that might fit the mold, I should do all in my power to please them, since they are few in numbers. For some reason Vicky kept reappearing in my thoughts, I wonder if she has a dominant personality. Then I figured even if she did, I doubted she would be interested in someone like me. From our limited dating in high school, she didn’t seem to be that kind of person.

I managed a shower, dressed in some casual clothes, then headed to the kitchen to get some lunch and begin on my list of chores. I nibbled for lunch, just some chips and dip, then an apple to tide me over to dinner. Today my duties included vacuuming the house and doing the laundry. Although fixing dinner is not on my list, I figured Marcy might appreciate the gesture. Any brownie points that I might gather would probably be needed at some time in my future escapades.

I heard Marcy wake up and enter the bathroom for her shower. I set the table, then served dinner. I had brewed some fresh coffee and soon Marcy came into the kitchen sniffing the air. She looked at the table, smiled and took the cup of coffee from me. The meal was polished off quickly, then she stood and hugged me. There were tears in her eyes as she thanked me for a spectacular meal. I was quickly dragged to her bedroom and situated on her vanity chair.

She wanted to know if I was alright with all that has been done to me. I sat quietly for the longest time, just thinking about how I would answer. Finally, my emotion filled brain managed to put together some thoughts. “I love the body, the clothes, the purpose in life that I now have. I am grateful that you pushed me this way, it is a path that I would not have chosen without some intervention.”

“I do see a lot of things that I have ignored, chosen not to do, and will try to correct them in the future. I hope you can see you way clear to forgive me for being so stupid, I definitely did not think things through and abused any privileges I might have had. I thank you for all you have done for me. I hope I will not be a disappointment to you in the future. For the first time in my life I am scared of you, maybe that is for the best, I really screwed things up and am very lucky that it wasn’t worse. I hope we can be sisters again after you see that I am trying to change for the better.”

I received a hug then she remarked. “Sisters Huh.” I blushed, but she kissed me on the cheek. “I can live with my new sister Natalie, sisters it is.”

“I do wish that Vicky and I can at least become friends, I sorely need one. I appreciate her, and I think I love her, but am terrified that she does not feel the same way.” Marcy smiled like she is aware of something I am not, but never did comment on it.

It wasn’t long until Marcy left for work, dropping me off at the salon with a small bag. Vicky is busy when I arrived so I found a quiet place in the front of the salon to read a few magazines, while I waited for her. An hour later she is finished and came to get me. Instead of leaving she takes me back to her station and has me sit in the styling chair. She helps me get my top off, then places a cape around my shoulders. The chair is leaned back, and she washes and conditions my hair again.

After the chair is back in the upright position, she runs a comb through my hair, sectioning it in small pin curls. After spraying the hair first with a setting gel, each section is put into curlers. When she is done, I look a little funny, with my head full of curlers. A hair net is placed over the curlers, and she drags me into a treatment room. My bra is undone and she rubs my nipples a little getting them all excited and hard. Two vicious clamps are used, one on each nipple and then my bra is hooked again. My blouse is put back on and we head out of the salon. Vicky’s house is not that far away, the ride in silence except for the sounds emanating from my mouth. The clamps are making my life miserable, a dull ache that seems to be spreading out from each nipple.

When we get to her house, I am taken to her bedroom and set in a chair next to a hairdryer like one would see in a salon. It is turned on and the warm air starts flowing over my hair in the curlers. I rub the front of my bra, trying to alleviate some of the pain from the clamps. It instead sends jolts through my nipple right to my brain. I break my silence asking her to remove the clamps, I only get a smile in return. “Nope we need the nipples a little more sensitive before I pierce them.”

“Pierce them, no please no, I have promised to be good. Call Marcy, she can tell you that I have promised. This can’t be happening to me, what am I am going to do with pierced nipples? I don’t want that, please no.”

My mumbling dies down as she puts her lips on mine and kisses me hard. I come up stuttering, short of breath and still trying to keep from getting my nipples pierced. Why is Vicky doing this to me, is it something she wants done or is it Marcy’s idea. Several more kisses and I let out a sigh and stop protesting. I really doubt I am going to change anybody’s mind about this. I wonder what it feels like to have pierced nipples, since I haven’t got used to having breasts yet.

Eventually the timer on the dryer dings, my hair should be dry now. Vicky checks the dryness as she removes one of my curlers, then seeing that it is indeed dry removes the remainder of them. I reach up to feel the curls on my head, still warm from the drying and very soft. She starts brushing them forming the brushed hair into a feminine style. In the mirror across the room I can see a sexy female now, the new hairstyle reinforcing the feminine image.

Vicky seats herself in front of me on a stool, holding both of my hand in hers. “Now it is time for the other treat tonight. Both Marcy and I want the same for you, a happy adjusted personality that is comfortable with their presentation in society. You have withdrawn from society instead, done nothing, abused your privileges, and isolated yourself from everyone. Now that we have you in a female body, you will not likely be able to avoid attention, but you still need a reminder that you are female now, Nathan is never coming back. I know she offered you a choice, but I see it a little differently. I love Natalie, would like to be able to take care of her, love her and cherish her in my time with her.”

My blouse is removed and the bra soon follows leaving me naked with just the clamps on my nipples. My very sore and aching nipples. “I am going to pierce your nipples, putting rings in them to continually remind you of my love for you. They signify a commitment from you to me, you are mine, to obey me, to honor me and to love me, as much as I love you. This is not for the short time, but for the rest of our lives. Now sit there and I will perform the procedure.”

I listened to what she had said, trying to let the thoughts sink in, hearing what she had said, and waiting for it to be done. I didn’t protest as she came back to the stool placing a tray of items on the nearby table. I glanced at the items, but quickly looked away. She removed a clamp from my nipple, cleaned it with alcohol and then took a needle and put it through the base of my nipple. I had closed my eyes not wanting to see her do it, but never did feel the needle enter my skin.

She took a gorgeous ring from the tray, opened it up and pushed one side of the ring through the new hole. Cleaned that end with alcohol again and added some liquid to the end and pushed the two halves together. Then she moved to the other nipple doing the same to it. I looked down at the rings, they looked like silver encrusted with a row of purple colored stone along the lower side of the ring. Each individual stone sparkled in the light, reflecting like stars.

My breasts seemed to perk up, the addition of the rings making them more prominent, no longer able to being hid under some bulky clothing. She helped me into a new bra, the larger cups being able to handle the inch and a half rings easily. “Oh, shit what am I going to do now, a female in looks and now pierced, a constant remainder of my new status in life. Unless I can hide them somehow everybody is going to see me this way, unusual for a female, but a male, I doubt there is even words to describe it.

I realized that until things are reversed, if ever, Nathan is now history. Way too much done to hide or make an excuse about, I needed to accept my fate, that of a teenage girl for the future. Vicky saw my conflict, taking my hands and leading me to her bed. I received a nightie to wear, and then helped into the luxurious looking bed.

“With these rings I do promise I will take care of you for all of time. You belong to me now, my property, my body to do with as I want. You will obey me in all things from this day forward. I have glued the rings together with superglue, they are not able to be removed. They are a special silver alloy that is very difficult to cut, the stones are amethyst, with six perfectly matched stones on each ring. The inscription on the ring reads the property of Vicky.”

I should be furious with her, just like when Marcy had me arrested and booked in jail, but I don’t feel that way. I roll over and place my head on Vicky’s lap, as she leans down to embrace me I moved somewhat to place one of my nipples almost in her mouth. I put both of my arms around her neck and pulled her closer to me. A gesture of submission, an acceptance of my femininity, I am not sure which but it feels right somehow.

How I could have come so far in the few days since being caught is unfathomable. My body has been changed to that of a female, I have chores now, a job and now pierced nipples. I even set there in the chair and let her do it to me without being restrained, never even making a sound or whimper as it was being done. I am now apparently owned by Vicky, body and soul and still I haven’t said anything.

She gets up, removes her own clothing sliding on the top part of a baby doll set and comes around to the other side of the bed. She slides under the covers slipping behind me with her arm around my body and lightly rubbing my pierced nipples. Her uncovered female sex right up against my butt, I can feel the moisture and the heat from it warming my body down there. A smile comes to my face, she owns me and I turn her on big time.

Nothing happened that night, as I am thinking about what I have endured, what I am going to do now, I fell asleep. Yep, one minute fully engaged and the next out to the world. I had to use the bathroom just before dawn, but had to extricate myself from her grasp. Using the bathroom as a female is still a learning experience, way too messy, but other than that not that bad. I had to stop and lift my nightie and look at my breasts, then realizing that I still had a bra on. I removed the nightie, then unclasped my bra, not an easy task.

I stared at my pierced nipples and the beautiful rings through them. I am not sure how long I looked at my pierced nipples, but Vicky entering the bathroom with a huge smile on her face was not who I wanted to see me this way. She did her business, then dragged me back to bed. The bra and nightie was left in the bathroom. She laid me down on the bed and hurried around to the other side. She scooted up next to me and gently took a ring and nipple into her mouth. They were now a little sore, but she just held it in her mouth, running her tongue over the ring every once in a while.

It was erotic, but also relaxing. I soon found myself back asleep, only to be woken by Vicky to get ready for work. A shower to clean myself up, then into my underwear and the salon’s uniform. Vicky had already dressed since she had taken her shower before me. When I started to put on the bra she stopped me. The short uniform dress was slipped over my head and pulled down over my breasts, it was adjusted over my hips, and then the zipper was pulled up. I looked at my chest the ruffles of the bodice barely covering my rings in my nipples. The red came to my face, she expects me to go to work this way. I received a kiss, then she adjusted the ruffle insert in the dress so that it covered my nipple rings a little better.

“Just a friendly reminder you are a female now, 100% female. Act accordingly and everything will be fine. When we get to work do as I say and I will start teaching you to be a cosmetician.” I am given a bottle of water and led out the door. She picked up both of our purses off the hall table, then on to her car. The trip to the salon was fairly quick, I really didn’t have much time to become more nervous. I was aware of all the things that had been done to me, the nipple rings the most prominent thought.

As we entered the salon she left our purses at reception and took me back to her work station. She showed me how to restock it and from where to get the supplies. Then she had me wash and condition her hair. I was so nervous, if I did it wrong I am sure she will abandon me. I managed to make it through that ordeal, then she told me I was going to put curlers in her hair.

Well, I started crying right away. I don’t even know how to start and she will be so disappointed in my effort. Another stylist came along, took my hands and started showing me how to put in curlers. Her name was Susie and she was very patient with me. About the sixth curler I began to get the jest of what I am doing and the rest of the curlers went in without much trouble. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing I didn’t see the smile on Vicky’s face. Vicky had me set a dryer for forty minutes and she got underneath it. I sat in her chair for a minute, then thought I should be doing something. I found some glass cleaner and cleaned her mirror. After I finished with hers I continued down the line cleaning all the mirrors in the salon. I cleaned up each station, removing tissues, and things that they would not use again while straightening their brushes, combs and scissors.

I was lost in what I was doing and hadn’t looked over where Vicky was setting under the dryer. When I did I was surprised. Next to Vicky was Francine, on the other side was Susie, and all three had the biggest smiles on their faces. Of course, I turned fifteen different shades of red but in my embarrassment I quickly looked for something to do. I saw a broom and went to sweeping around each station, not because they needed it but because I was totally embarrassed caught being such a girl. I had been humming I feel like a woman while I was performing my little tasks. Francine got up from the chair walked over to me and hugged me. “You are doing fine, just relax. By the way do you like your pierced nipples, they look so pert and eager this morning.” She giggled and left me to my sweeping. I am not sure that the red on my face will ever fade away, but then maybe it is just an integral part of my new found femininity. All because of being caught in the act.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca