Yvonne: Loved And Treasured
I slipped on my sweats quickly, having only a few minutes to get down to the main floor of the dorms to await my ride to the salon. The trip to the salon was not one I was looking forward to, but one that couldn’t be avoided.
A little history of this soon to be adult. I have been in this particular boarding school for five years now, a few weeks from graduating hopefully. Mother was the reason for me being here, divorced now and trying hard to keep a roof over our head. Her longtime school friend ran the boarding school, offering to allow me to go to the school for free. The school was not really out any money, since the room had to be maintained anyway and she was short a few students from a full enrollment.
The school stressed academics and excellent grades were expected from all of their students. That made getting the good grades harder since to get an A you had to score 98 or higher on a test. In regular schools 85 usually got you an a A.
If the parent wished a reward/incentive could be added to the students file to be implemented to reward or provide an incentive for higher grades. In my case Mom added the incentive, since she was pretty sure there would be no money for college unless I managed a scholarship. I had no idea what the incentive was, but did know at what point it would be applied to me.
I guess I was looking ahead at leaving the school and let my grades slip a little. Unfortunately they slipped past the point of applying the incentive. I had an idea what she might have arranged; a specific incentive since the length of my hair has been a major point of contention between us ever since I came to the school. I liked long hair and resisted any attempts at cutting it. The school had some rules in place, male hair length not allowed past the bottom of the ears. To evade the scissors I had to wear it in a ponytail, with a pink ribbon bow. That was the compromise that Mom and the head mistress had worked out allowing me to keep the long hair.
Mom told me in a matter of fact way that any more discussion on the subject would end up with me in curls. She didn’t like long hair on me, it would make getting a job difficult or impossible for me. I know she was trying to see that after school I would be able to provide for myself, but I somehow didn’t think having longish hair would keep me from finding some employment. So at best a stalemate was achieved as long as I wore the bow in my hair.
Yes, I was embarrassed by the bow often, but was steadfast in keeping my long hair. I got kidded, even the females in the school getting involved. I frequently had lipstick applied to my lips, one girl in particular catching me and removing my bow, running away with it. That would require me to head back to my dorm room and obtain another bow, before I was caught by a faculty member and written up.
The males were not to be left out, the number of times my male clothes disappeared in gym class too numerous to count. I was always left a dress to wear, now half of my closet in the dorm filled with dresses. My male clothes never did turn up again, it was now getting to the point I had very few male clothes left to wear, surprised I made it this far in my time spent here.
The hair issue did not really get to the point of me having to wear a bow until a year ago when the length of it exceeded the dress code rule. Last look in the closet I had only a few outfits left that would be considered male in looks, since there was still several gym classes left to take not a promising situation to face.
I was unsure about the appointment at the salon Mom had made for me, but there was still a few weeks of school left and the dreaded finals were still to be taken. Plenty of time still for her incentive to have an effect on me and my grades. One of the salon employees was to pick me up, as a favor for my mother. Also not allowing me an easy escape from the appointment.
The lady showed up, and I was shown to her car. The ride was pleasant as she asked about me and my schooling, a real novelty these days to find someone actually interested in others. It turned out she would also be the one treating me today. Everything was explained in detail, I was going to receive extra long hair extensions in a lighter hair color, making my hair appear frosted. A style cut into the hair with long bangs that could be swept to one side or the other and the rest layered down my back. Curls courtesy of a setting lotion so that one looking at the back of my head would see layers of curls all the way down my back. Since the hair will be so long I will need to put it in a braid every night to keep the tangles manageable. Today she will show me how to do the braid and make sure I could perform the task myself.
At the salon we talked as she was adding the extensions wanting to know about the relationship between myself and my mother. I explained my mother wanting to be sure I could get a college scholarship, that the main reason for the emphasis on my grades and her preference for short hair. I admitted to my grades slipping some, in actuality only a half percentage point drop, thus apparently putting me at the point where the incentive would be employed. We talked about other things then she suggested instead of fighting my Mom why didn’t I embrace the change, taking the incentive a step or two beyond what was intended. If I then applied myself a little more maybe another avenue might open up, a way to still get my scholarship without all the stress and worry.
It sounded good, what did I have to lose. With the new longer locks I will not be classified as a male member of society, no male has hair down to their waist and in curls. I am sure somewhere in the fine print a bow and ribbons will show up, either as part of what Mom had planned or as part of the school dress code as it applies to me. We agreed on some breast forms, pierced ears and long polished nails to start with. Enough to move me to the female category, but still be loosely considered a male gender wise. I did hesitate asking that nothing else be done until I saw my new hairstyle when finished.
Well it was far worse than I imagined, I now looked like a fashion model, the frosted look of the two colors of hair really doing a job on what little masculinity I might have had left. She did show me how to put it in a braid, at that point I saw that the longer hair and its effect on me was only the beginning. Now at least an hour a night, brushing and braiding my hair would be necessary to maintain it. After the second attempt of putting my hair in a braid my arms ached, from having them above my head for so long, trying to fashion the braid.
I decided to go ahead with the step beyond concerning the incentive. The nails were first, extensions added to my existing nails and painted a pink in color. Then my ears pierced, small diamond studs inserted to keep the holes from closing up. I almost chickened out when I saw the size of the breast forms, even though she said there were the right size for my body. After she glued them on my chest I swallowed hard, these are going to change everything about my life. I actually thought a loose top or shirt would conceal them, I was wrong. Very wrong.
The bill had already been paid by Mom, although I don’t think she had anticipated my additions to her planned incentive. Then I made my way home, the thought now appearing in my befuddled mind that I would have to face her with my additions, with no idea how to explain why I had chosen them. Maybe this was not such a good idea. My mode of transportation to my home was the bus, an entirely different experience looking so much like a female.
As I entered the house she was waiting for me, checking me out and even poking my new breasts. I opened my mouth in surprise, I actually felt her poke me, impossible I would think since it was only a breast form. She smiled, a bigger then ever smile, lighting up the whole room. I backed up a little, this in not what I was expecting from her. Where is the yelling and screaming, the lecture about how this ruins everything?
She grabbed my hand and led me to my bedroom, sitting me on the edge of the bed. I looked at her, then around the room, my jaw dropping, my heart stopping mid beat and my hands getting clammy and cold. This is not my room, where am I? Frilly curtains, walls painted a light apple green and pictures of females in evening wear adorning the walls. Mirrors on my closet door and inside nothing but dresses and skirts. A vanity over by the window, its top loaded with makeup of every kind. My focus was back to my Mom now, her larger than life smile still there.
“I see we have arrived at the same destination even though we have taken different paths to get there. What you have done has saved me weeks of fiddling and scheming, so thank you in advance. Now you are officially my daughter, a cute pretty female that is quite smart. That intelligence along with your looks will get you everything in life, so you are now prepared for a life of a female, to be taken care of, to be loved and to be treasured by your spouse. A batting of those eyelashes and anything else you may want is yours. No need for the scholarship now for collage, this will get you farther than any degree could possibly do for you.
Change into something more revealing and we will eat out tonight, we may even be able to find a young man that might be interested in you yet today. Who knows. Oh wear the pink ribbons in your hair, they go with everything. You look so cute with that long curly hair.
So apparently I had played right into her hands, saving her the trouble of scheming to get me to experience the same thing. I did wear the pink bows and ribbons as I gathered up the mass of curls into a very loose ponytail situated low on my head.
I was not ready for the reaction of others to my new femininity. Especially the stares from anything resembling a male. From the car to the restaurant I was constantly ogled, even a few with their mouth open in lust. The waiter while taking our orders seemed obsessed with me, his eyes seldom left my breasts, although I think he was also fascinated with my hair, as close as he was standing next to me. I mean he was never more than an inch or two from my body, with him having to stare straight down to see me. While Mom was having a giggling fit he checked my water and iced tea four times during the meal making sure it was filled to the brim. I even got a free dessert, one that I shared with my Mother, mainly to keep her from giggling or outright laughing at me. As we left the restaurant she just smiled at me, yes the world is now obtainable for her daughter, but she does need a new wardrobe.
So we went shopping, five hours of traipsing through every store in the mall, trying on hundreds of clothing possibilities to see if it was suitable for her daughter. Mom spent nearly eight hundred dollars on me that evening, then I remembered I still had a couple of weeks of school left. So with my new figure, female clothes the likely attire for my remaining weeks of school.
My fellow students treated me just like a real female, the trouble I had in the past never to appear again. I did do better in my studies, I presume since I was still getting used to my new body and clothes a lot less masculine to distract me. Whatever the reason my grades improved significantly, five A’s and one A minus for my final grades. That resulted in me graduating in the top third of my class, a feat for this former male to be sure.
Oh, I was dressed as a female for my graduation, my wardrobe now exclusively for the female gender. My former male clothes, what I had left of them, vanished that first week never to re-appear again.
I still wear the pink bows, not because I have to but because they looked good with my new wardrobe. Mom did like pink anything, the majority of my new attire in that color or shades thereof. After graduation the school held an open house for potential employers to meet the new graduates and maybe connect with someone they might like to hire. I was dressed to the nines for the open house, Mom made sure of that. Along with the clothes I received a new name, Mom deciding the name Yvonne was perfect for me. A much better choice than my old moniker of Vance.
During the open house I was never alone, lots of people wanting to talk to me and ask questions. I ended up with nine interviews scheduled for the next few days, at their places of business. Mom made sure I was briefed on each business and how to put off any decision till I had attended the other interviews. A new dress was required for each interview, a female can’t be seen wearing the same dress in a month’s time, unwritten rule number one. Shopping again, this time the perfect dress had to be found for each interview. Mom had done the research on each company, what they looked for in their new employees compiling a dossier on each company I had an interview with. Don’t ask me how she found out all of this information, she just did.
Everything worked out, two of the interviews ended up offering me a job, the second one of the two I was in favor of. The male that conducted the interview spent over three hours with me, coercing every bit of information out of me, including the fact that I was born male. It didn’t seem to make a difference, the rest of the interview was carried out as if that bit of info made no difference in his assessment of where I might fit in with the company. In his summation I was offered the job, with him asking me if I could start immediately. Of course I told him yes, he seemed nice and very interested in me, a definite possibility if I was looking for a mate. I did notice he didn’t wear any wedding rings, and that he wrote my phone number down on a separate slip of paper and put that paper in his pocket.
I was told where to report tomorrow and a brief description of my job duties, then he wished me well and the interview was over. I was expecting a hug, but after I eased out of the office, I realized it would be inappropriate at my interview appointment. I can dream though can’t I?
The first week at my new job went well with him checking on my progress daily. I liked the job, fairly easy for me, and my work colleagues accepting me into their work group with open arms. Then the end of the second week Scott came to check on me again. After some small talk, he asked me out to dinner, wanting to talk with me about my job and how I have been treated so far. Whatever the reason I was all for it, I was running out of dresses to win him over, and my salon appointments were already three times a week to make sure I looked beautiful at all times.
Surprisingly there were very few questions about work or how I was being treated, on the dinner date. The time spent talking about me and what I wanted out of life. Then an equal amount of time spent on him, with both of us having the same things in mind for our future.
That Friday was the first of many weekly dates, over the next few months, Recently I got asked to accompany him to his parent’s house for the weekend, that simple act thrilling me immensely. I apparently passed with flying colors, his Mom spending time with me and already treating me like a daughter-in-law. It was exactly three months to the day when I was called into his office for my three month evaluation. He spent well over two hours going over every facet of my job and how I was doing.
Then he paused as he asked me if I would be open to other employment possibilities. I nodded my head, then smiled as he pulled a ring box out of his desk drawer. He scooted off his chair and got on one knee asking me to marry him. After our engagement he wanted me to be a full time wife, tending to his needs and taking care of him.
He moved pretty fast asking me to move in with him a few weeks later, that way I could get an idea of what I could expect as his wife and lover. I was all for that, the kiss that I received when I accepted the ring a tasty treat, leaving me wanting for more, much more. We lived together for a year, when he flew me to Las Vegas for a quick wedding and then to Hawaii for a week long honeymoon. I saw very little of the islands, but the hotel suite we had was quite comfy and adequate for our needs.
My wardrobe has grown exponentially and I still have two salon appointments a week to keep me looking my best. My hair is now down to my butt, kept silky and shiny by the salon staff. I still remember back so long ago when I made the decision to embrace my female self, the best decision I have ever made. Long curly hair was just the start. To be loved and treasured the reward.