Dominque; From Nerd To Model

Dominque; From Nerd To Model

I make a living exploiting other business’s weaknesses. I run a security business where I infiltrate a company’s connection to the web to find its weak spots and point them out, along with possible fixes to correct the problem. I am basically a computer nerd, one that has learned how to sneak in where I am not wanted.

These days most everything a company does is kept on their computers. If they have connection to the web that information is accessible by others. A lot of companies spend big bucks on security measures, however they are never tested, the company finding out they have a problem when their system fails or their private information is leaked across the internet. I offered them that evidence up front, before there was a major breech to their records or programs.

The first few months of my new business I almost starved, few customers and even fewer ones that were able to pay for my services. They all wanted the service, but thought that it was me just checking their system and telling them what is wrong. I wish it was that easy. If it was, I would be a millionaire by now. I actually attacked their systems looking for any weak points, then breached the system to prove my point. I usually left some proof of my success, making my claims believable. Very few systems were immune to my invasion, although there were a couple.

A couple of months into my startup an old friend from college approached me, wanting my advice on his company’s security setup. Their assets were the programs they wrote, so the system had to prevent any access from outside the company. I took me about a week to break though their firewall, than access the program database and copy their latest program to a USB drive. Terry had always been somewhat of a showoff, very talented but also ready to inform you of that fact at a drop of the hat. I decided to change the program they were working on a little, making it look like Terry was the source of errors in the program. That way he would have to convince the others he was not at fault. I had an appointment later in the day with him, but had heard he had one that morning with his software developers. It was all set-up, once they started the program the changes would all become apparent, when looking into the errors it would lead them back to Terry as the one responsible.

When I arrived for the meeting I had with him he was sitting in his office depressed and sullen. I asked what was wrong, he tried to ignore the question, but then I gave him a clue. “Did your software program meeting turn sour? Is it possible that the infallible Terry made some mistakes in his programming, nah that couldn’t have happened?”

His head came up, staring at me hard. I showed him where he had several points in his security system that had easily accessible faults, one of them I had used to break into his computers and changed his one program. He looked at me, like I was telling him a lie. “I suggested he go back to that program now, he will find it working properly, my changes totally erased. In case you try to follow my trail I have erased my entry point and all records of the changes totally. Here is the areas you need to fix, and my suggestions for how to fix them. Also my bill for my services. Is there anything I else I can do for you today?”

He got up from his desk, walked around to face me, grabbed me in a big bear hug and tried to squeeze me to death. Then reached back to his desk to get his checkbook. He wrote out the check and handed it to me. Now get out of my office before I have you thrown out. I left, the smile on his face was genuine, glad for things to be as they should be and glad to have found the weak spots in their security system.

I did get several referrals from him, which led to other referrals so it ended up being a turning point for me in my business. Fast forward a couple of years, the business was making me a lot of money. Enough that I was picking and choosing my customers carefully, to keep from working every day of the month.

I got a request from a fashion house in New York City. Apparently a couple of their designs had been stolen in an earlier show in Paris, the upcoming show in New York City their main source of income for their business. If more of their designs were pilfered here, it could mean financial ruin for them. The owner of the fashion house had implemented her own safety measures, but wanted some outside help. At the time it was thought that the designs were stolen off the photos kept on their computer of the new fashion line. That led them to me, to find the hole and plug it.

I flew to New York to talk to her, meeting her at her condo in the city. She was very confident, even though she was facing a perplexing problem. I had done a little investigating before the trip and discovered several weak spots that left her vulnerable. We met over lunch, her partner in life a very capable cook, along with being gorgeous as well. We discussed her ideas, and I told her a couple of mine.

She discounted the most probable one that I had informed her of, that was impossible and could never be the source of a leak. Several more times during the conversation it was brought up again, she steadfastly refused to accept that some of her models could be pilfering the designs from her. Once they started preparing for the show the models stayed at the same hotel, and were monitored constantly until the day of the show. No phones were allowed, and the clothes they wore were furnished by the fashion house. No outside contact with anyone and several of her long time trusted employees to monitor the models every action and deed.

I discounted the theft of the photos from their computer since the photos were stored on a USB drive and not on the hard drive of their computer. A model with a digital camera could snap a picture and upload it to a remote computer in seconds, with the new mini digital cameras something that small could be held in a hand and never be seen.

When I kept insisting that was her most likely source of the thefts, she made me a bet. If you can sneak in a model to the show, and steal pictures of my designs before they hit the runway I will pay you ten times your normal charges. If you can’t make it happen, you will come and work for me as a model for a year, free of charge. Me working as a male model for her might not be too bad, the babes she hired as models were all twelves on a scale of ten.

I was sure that I could make it happen, I still had three weeks before the show, and her models had not been selected yet. Lots of opportunity for me to infiltrate a model and get the pictures I needed. I never did take her remark seriously about working for her for a year, I knew I could get the pictures and ten times my fee was looking quite enticing at the moment.

I scribbled out an agreement, just in case her memory was selective in what she remembered and we each signed it. I told her I would get her a copy of the agreement tomorrow as soon as I could get copies made. We hugged, as I was being told that females do not shake hands but hug. I gave her a quizzical look, she was already classifying me as a female. Although she was ten years older than me, her gorgeous body was near perfect, the tender hug doing lots of things to my male apparatus. It was suddenly very hot in here, a bead or two of perspiration sliding down my cheek and forehead.

I left to fly back to my office to plan my approach, other than the money it was a challenge for me, one that would task my skills and cunning. It was far cry from what I usually do, very little computer skills needed here. I got a copy of the agreement made before I left, and mailed it to her, along with sending a copy via email. I made a short list of what I needed, and ways to make sure I won the bet on the flight back. It did occur to me that she might want me to model as a female if she won the bet, I was far from macho looking, about five foot ten and fairly thin. Of course, I discounted that idea as rubbish immediately, I would win the bet so nothing like that could or would happen. The idea did persist though in the back of my mind, a nagging thought that was there but would not go away.

I searched clips of her previous shows looking for what her models looked like, that would give me an idea of what type of model I had to find. Like most fashion designers their models were waifs, straight up and down all very tall with long hair and excellent facial features. That was going to make it hard, that type of female not readily available. I checked with several agencies, including one I had done some previous work for. She had several attempts of breaking into her database on her models, the thief wanting the names of her models and their contact information. I blocked that entry and even found the culprit that was trying to get the info. I found out she was in L.A. for a show, so made my way there to talk to her.

I took Pamela out to dinner and explained my problem asking her for some advice on who I could use. She gave me some names, but also told me that all of them had already worked for Anna in the past, doing something for me would likely not be agreed to. Our food came and we chit chatted for a while as we ate. Then she looked me straight in the face, taking her fingers to raise my chin so I was looking directly at her. “Why don’t you be the model, you have the looks, you are just the right height and your face is very feminine. Made-up and dressed in women’s clothes I am sure Anna will be all over you.” At the time I missed the significance of that remark.

After I managed to get my mouth closed, I checked to see if she was kidding. Before I could build up a load of steam as to why it wouldn’t work she gave me a card. Go to this salon and tell them what you want, they will scan you and change the scanned image to what you will look like after the changes. If you decide to go that route I will represent you, to get your feet in the door with her. Now be off, destiny awaits.

She grabbed the bill before I could and told me time is a wasting. Oh, have them take a few pictures or send me copies of the scans so that I can send out some feelers. With that she got up, walked to the register and paid the bill and then just like that I was alone. I did leave a tip on the table, then made my way to my car. I looked at the card, the salon specialized in turning males into females. I also saw they were open until ten most nights, except Sunday.

I have no idea why I was even considering doing this, the whole idea way out of my comfort zone. I decided to drive over and check the place out. It took about forty minutes, they were located in an upscale neighborhood on the other side of town. First impressions was that I doubted I could afford their help. The opulence of the place was borderline between Victorian elegance and forties retro fashion, everything I saw through the front windows was upper class chic.

I did make it into the salon, curiosity getting the better of me. Someone came to get me and I was escorted back to an office/treatment room near the back of the salon. I told Davina what I needed, then asked if it could be done and how much would it cost me. She answered yes as to whether it could be done, then after looking at a screen on the computer told me it would run about five thousand dollars, wardrobe and makeup included. Before I could respond, she asked me to undress and she would scan my body, then with their software show me what I would look like.

I was curious, as to the possibilities, again that curiosity was poking its head up. So I complied, the scanning taking about ten minutes. My face did turn instant red, I am not used to being seen naked, in this case an even worse fate since Davina is scanning my body to see what I might look like as a female.

I still had no idea why I was checking into this, the idea so absurd and unrealistic. A male posing as a female model for a fashion show. Then she hit some keys on her laptop, while having the image projected on to a screen at the side of the office. My heart almost quit working, I was looking at a drop dead gorgeous female, her only faults were her flat chest and her thin hips. Two more clicks and those faults had also been corrected. Her narrow waist more than made up for the deficiency, accenting her small assets still making for a very feminine figure. Her long hair was almost to her waist, blond with some highlights in a deeper brunette. Delicate arches over her eyes and pouty lips made the face striking, worthy of lots of pictures.

I asked Davina if she could email that image to someone. She nodded and typed in the address I gave her. Within minutes Pamela called me telling me to be at her hotel first thing in the morning, so I could sign a modeling contract. I hesitated, then she said if I wasn’t she would be having a chat with Anna later that afternoon. I told her that was blackmail. “Yep that is what it is called, so you better be here no later than nine A.M.” I hung up chuckling to myself. Suddenly the absurd idea was getting real, too real for my liking.

I asked when the changes could be scheduled, Davina checked her computer, then said a few things could be handled tonight, then the rest by tomorrow night at the latest. I gave out a sigh, typical for me when I have decided to go off the deep end, which this was looking like more and more. I must have lost some of my smarts on the flight back from NYC, to even consider this crazy idea. “Okay, how do you want payment?”

“When we finish is soon enough, you may want some more changes added or a bigger wardrobe, so we will wait until you are satisfied.” I went ahead and paid part of the charges, preferring to pay as I am transformed, not sure I will complete the transformation. Still too many ifs in the situation as far as I was concerned.

I reluctantly went with Davina to get started. Loss of body hair was first on the list, a cream was rubbed all over my body, and fifteen minutes later I was hairless. Since I was going to be modeling, hopefully, she concentrated on my figure. A wicked corset was brought in, wrapped around my body and the laces tightened up some. It didn’t seem that bad, but then over the next four hours it was tightened, and tightened, and tightened some more. By the time they were happy with my waist measurement I had lost five inches in the waist and could hardly get a decent breath. The corset was fairly long, extending from my nipples to my groin, impossible to bend over in and stiff as a board. It changed the way I walked, and stood. There will be no more slouching, that is for sure.

Then they had the audacity to tell me that it stays on for at least a week, maybe more. While they were tightening the corset, I had been given a pair of heels and made to practice walking. Davina had to help me get my feet in them, since there was no way I could reach my feet to put them on. Of course, stockings had to be put on and attached to the corset, since they would be necessary for me to slip into the heels. Since I couldn’t sit or bend over, walking in the heels was all I could do anyway. Towards the end of the period, I found my tush swishing back and forth, even though I had made no effort to accomplish that fact. I was sent home for the time being, but they wanted me back tomorrow morning before eight.

As I was putting my male clothes back on Davina came and fiddled with the laces on the back of my corset. When she finished she informed me the laces were locked behind a panel that would keep me from untying them or cutting them. She could see my instant depression and giggled. “See you bright and early tomorrow morning dear.” Incidentally the heels stayed, only off for a couple of minutes while my pants were slid on.

I called Pamela and tried to get out of the meeting the following morning, telling her I had an appointment early at the salon and that I couldn’t miss it. She just told me that was fine, she would meet me at the salon. She did ask who my technician was, then with an apparent smile, giggled when I told her it was Davina. When I did get home, I was beat, the high heels were killing my feet and my whole midsection had gone numb. Yes, I was still in the heels, since my task master said I needed the practice. I pleaded and begged but when Davina closed the buckle on the strap she had this huge smile on her face. Only a small giggle escaped her mouth.

I was planning to lay down for a while, then get up later and get something to eat. That plan got adjusted quickly. The corset was restricting any movement it turned out to be impossible to reach my heels to get them off, so getting out of my pants was a lost cause to start with. I could hardly bend, so I avoided any chair or the sofa, fearing if I got in it I may never get myself out of it. So I wedged myself on a kitchen bar stool with my back against the wall, finally managing a short nap in that uncomfortable position. When I woke the tightness of the corset seemed to be relaxed some, so I was able to bend a little. I am sure it was not the corset that had loosened, it was my body that had adjusted to that wicked garment. Still not enough to reach my heels though. The bending part was good, since I had to use the bathroom, a feat that took me over twenty minutes to accomplish. Using the bathroom was definitely an adventure. I couldn’t reach my penis to aim it and I could not fully sit down so I had to squat a little and then pee. Of course it was a mess, with me using a half roll of toilet paper to dry off my butt and thighs. A wet washcloth followed, taking way longer than necessary to eventually get me cleaned up and smelling pleasant. Then I managed to get my panties back up somehow, junior now nestled back in their silky embrace.

I found something to nibble on, although I was hungry, a few bites filled me up. I debated on how to get some sleep, eventually altering my bar stool with some more cushions around it, then wedging myself between the wall and the counter. It proved to be somewhat comfortable that way, and if I didn’t move around much I would not fall off my perch for the evening.

I managed to get freshened up in the bathroom the next morning, although it was mainly my face and my hands, everything else unreachable or locked behind the corset.

I made it to the salon eventually then was ushered to the back so my hair could be washed and conditioned. Once that was accomplished it was set on rollers after a setting lotion was liberally applied. I was then moved to a hair dryer and that is where Pamela found me about thirty minutes later.

She had the biggest smile on her face, then turned off the dryer so she could tell me her news. I was closely appraised, apparently I was even better looking in person, Pamela taking a few pictures to send Anna. It turns out I was already hired by Anna, a few minutes after Pamela sent out the pictures yesterday Anna called wanting me under contract. Pamela never did tell me how much I went for, but I had to be at the show in a week’s time. She had me sign some contracts, then the bitch turned the dryer back on and left me to cook under the warm heat. I did learn that my new name for modeling is Dominique. French by birth, raised in the U.S. for most of my life.

The crazy idea was growing, each hour a little more of my masculinity was being done away with. When I was hooked up to the vacuum pump to extract some breasts from my chest I lost consciousness for a while. Every time I became lucid the pump was tirelessly pulling flesh from my chest. So I tried to ignore the whole situation, but when the pump was turned off and the hoses removed it was impossible to ignore the two small B cup breasts that were jiggling on my chest. They were protected in their cups that were used to form them, with me being told the cups would dissolve in the next few days. According to Davina a perfect size for an aspiring young model.

By the end of the day I was definitely female in appearance. Not a sign of the previous male to be found. I did sign up for some classes in makeup and hair styling, a necessity now with my feminine appearance. I also had a class in walking as a model. The so called runway walk, I found the corset helped quite a bit in that regard.

The corset and I had come to terms, I was able to move some even with it tightly restricting my waist. Much to my chagrin it had been tightened twice since I was wrapped in its embrace the first evening. Now my waist reduced almost seven inches from when I first showed up at the salon. There had been nothing added to my hips, just junior tucked away under two soft pussy lips. I can still remember my horror, when junior was glued away under the most realistic vagina I have ever seen that was not on a real female. I was assured it was fully functional and on for the duration of my portrayal of a female. The severe reduction in the waist had given me a female figure, without having to add any padding to the hips.

Then we come to my breasts. A runway model does not have prominent breasts, so the B cup breasts that were sucked from my chest were sufficient to make me nearly perfect as a model. The additions to my chest did require some getting used to. The constant movement of each breast as I walked, moved around and bent over were something I had no experience with. The full week was required to get used to them, finally at the weekend I was aware of them, but was still not used to their motion and movement. I never came to the realization that they would be with me long after I was finished modeling for Anna. It was not a breast form, but actual tissue sucked from my body, most likely not easily placed back where it had come from.

I closed up my apartment, I would be modeling with Anna for a full ten days, then depending on what happens maybe a while longer. I took only one change of clothes, once at the hotel I would be wearing only Anna’s choice of clothing. I had bought a small camera that could be carried in my hand easily, that was what I was planning to use to snap the pictures. It could download to a computer the images that I hoped to obtain. I was using what I thought the actual thief was using, if I could get the pictures it would prove my point.

I had to remind myself to be on the lookout for someone else out to steal some of her designs, with me it was the bet, but anybody else was motivated by money for the stolen design. To steal a design and show it somewhere else meant big money for whoever released the design first. Thus the inordinate interest in the designs before the actual runway show. Several times I had to focus on stopping the thief, my bet with Anna seeming to take precedence over the job I was hired for, unfortunately.

As per instructions I showed up at the hotel ten days prior to the show. I was evaluated by Anna and two of her assistants as to my figure and what might be necessary to get me ready to model her fashions. They were pleased with my figure, since it was even better than the pictures they received when I was hired. We had a meeting of all the models and Anna’s employees, stating the rules of our employment. We each had a separate room at the hotel and unless we were being fitted for clothes we were expected to be in our rooms. Lunch is the only meal we would receive, to make sure our figures remained as needed. The meal would be served to us in our room where we would eat alone. There is no phones in our rooms, just a basic TV for entertainment. We would be allowed no visitors at any time until after the show is over. Each model had a member of her staff assigned to them to insure that we were following the rules explicitly, they would on occasion check on us in the room, during the evening and night to make sure we are doing as we were told.

Then it was discussed what clothes we would wear during the time before the show. What they showed us was comical, a mini skirted dress that came to just an inch or two below our genitals. The neckline was quite risqué, the only thing covering our breasts was a thin lace panel that did nothing to conceal the breasts underneath. No panties or bra would be allowed, the zipper on the dress could be locked, so that once in the dress it would be with us until we were unlocked. The hem of the dress could be pulled up some, but that was the extent of the dress’s movement, the waist and bodice fitting snugly to my body. The final safety measure was mittens that locked to our wrists, making doing anything with our hand and fingers quite impossible.

I guess Anna had thought of what I had said and had made her own changes in security. Now winning the bet seemed quite unlikely. The models in general were not happy about the changes, since they were quite a departure from last year. Two walked out, but I could see Anna might have figured that might happen and had hired a couple more than she might need for the show. After the meeting we were walked to our rooms, undressed and our clothes that we wore here were taken away. A very thin nightie was handed to me, and I was shown to the bathroom where I was told to take a bath.

I had managed to spend a week as my female self, but being nude and in front of other females still unnerved me some. I did get the bath and dressed in the nightie as my watcher checked me over for anything that did not belong on my body. I even had to spread my legs and pull my lower lips apart to assure her I was not hiding anything. Now as I laid back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling thinking of what I had got myself in to.

When I first got to my room I had placed the tiny camera in the back of the TV, a place where cable connections could be added when needed. If I am fitted with the mittens, the camera will not do me any good, because I will not be able to shoot any pictures. So all of this to prove my point and a few new changes and I am totally screwed. So now finding out who might be stealing the designs is my only recourse, I severally doubt I will be copying any designs to prove my point. I managed to get some sleep, awaking early the next morning to someone knocking on the door. Before I could get out of bed, my watcher was in the room, checking to make sure there was no one else in the room and nothing out of place.

She returned an hour later, helped me into the dress and locked it. Mittens were slid over my hands and secured, then I was led off to my first day of modeling. The days before the actual show were spent in the various designs each of us would be wearing and practicing our runway walk. We would be dressed, then had to wait until it was our time to prance down the runway, then back to change clothes and wait until our next que. In my case it was fifteen changes of clothes, each change seeming to be to fancier outfits. During all of these costume changes the mittens were ever present, the only respite was at lunch time.

After the first run through we were fed lunch, the few morsels on my plate were quite pathetic. They were serious about watching our figures. Another run through after lunch, with me being returned to my room about six-thirty. This time the nightie was furnished, after allowing me time to use the bathroom, a bath and brushing my hair and teeth on the schedule. After the nightie slid down my naked body the mittens were re-applied and secured. I asked about the reason for the mittens, Sally, my watcher said it was to prevent us using anything to sketch a design or otherwise communicate any information to someone outside the show. In the mittens I could use the remote on the TV but barely. The hardest task was wiping my female sex after peeing with the mittens on it was manageable but so comical. I swear the first time I made an attempt, I must have used half a roll of toilet paper trying to get that area dry. It was better than that damn corset though. That was definitely ten days of hell.

Each day was a repeat of the previous, I had no idea that so much effort went into her fashion show. My look was further feminized as Anna and her group made suggestions after seeing me in the creations I was to model. I was beginning to worry if I would be able to return to my male sex, I had extensions added to my hair, it now touching my butt, when brushed straight back. In the show it was curled and piled on top of my head, with some ribbons weaved throughout that matched the color of the design I was wearing.

The day before the show I was whisked to the salon, a sudden last minute change to my makeup deemed necessary for the outfit that I would wear as my last walk down the runway. The techs were very careful as they applied the makeup, getting after me several times when I moved my head or mouth. I wondered about their concerns before I heard one of them refer to the makeup as permanent. I started to protest, but since most of my face had already been done I thought it was too late and would not serve any purpose. My image when they finished was striking, Anna in particular quite happy how I turned out.

The rest of that day was unreal, apparently they had hid a few designs completely, never having them fitted or worn in front of the other models or staff. My last walk down the runway would be wearing one of these last minute revelations. It also happened to be a bridal gown, one that was huge in proportion to the other styles that were shown, The train alone was almost twenty feet long, several young girls dressed in similar style dresses would walk along holding the end of the train as I made my way down the runway.

If it was only the train that was the problem it wouldn’t have been that bad. The real concern was the bodice of the dress, since the dress only provided a place for my breasts to lay, no support to keep them there. I had been squeezed into a corset before the dress was buttoned up, so trying to keep my breasts in the dress and trying to get enough air to breathe were of equal concern. Then they added the veil over my elaborate up do, the several layers of lace now making it difficult to see where I was going. On the return trip from the end of the runway I was to lift up the lacy veil so that my full face could be seen. I could see me staggering down the runway, turning around at the end and face planting right there in front of everybody. The staggering was a likely outcome of me trying to walk in the five inch heels that I was slipped into. They did go with the dress, if that makes any difference.

We did one last run through before the big show, it turns out I didn’t need to see where I was going as she had hired a male model to escort me down the runway. In my previous walks down the runway I did manage to find how her designs were being stolen, a brief glint of light caused by a reflection off the flashes of the cameras her staff were taking of the final changes for the show pointed to the source of the stolen designs. As soon as I made it back off the runway I called over my watcher and pointed to the place where a hidden camera had been placed. A few minutes later hotel security had showed up and confiscated the camera. I could have handled that also with ease, but dressed as I was it was a moot point.

That evening in my room Anna showed up thanking me for saving her butt. She had already sent my pay for the show to Pamela, adding in a little extra for my superb services off the runway.

Then she asked if I was ready to fulfill my portion of the bet, to model for her for a year. I had been sussed right away, the additional further feminization done to assure that I would be ready to model for her. So much for plan A. She would concede time for me to handle my business, she just wanted my services for her shows. Even though I had lost the bet and would theoretically work for free as that was the terms of the bet, she would see to it that I received a sum appropriate of a top model for my services.

“By the way, your makeup is permanent, it will take almost a year for it to fade enough to be covered up. A little insurance on my part that you will stay as Dominique for the year. After the year, I have an option in your contract so that I can extend it, something I am sure will be implemented as you will no doubt be the hit of the show tomorrow. Now give me a hug, and get to bed I don’t want to see circles under those pretty eyes in the morning.”

When the last walk down the runway was over, there was nothing but applause from the crowd of fashion buyers. Anna and her staff were swamped by buyers, wanting to place their orders for next season. Pamela had come to see my debut as a model, a huge smirk plastered on her face. She told me I did not need to work ever again if I didn’t want to, my pay for this show and the next year more than enough to sustain any lifestyle I might want to pursue. She gave me an evil little smile, then told me she had placed it in a joint account as her contract with me allows, to be doled out to me only for worthwhile reasons after getting approved by her. To show her heart is in the right place she is waving any agency fees in my case, she just wanting me to be comfortable in my female presentation in the future. Translation you are female now and that will be your gender for the future.

Later that afternoon all of the models were treated to a scrumptious dinner, some substance to make up for the meager lunches we received as we were preparing for the show. Most of the other models left after the dinner, anxious to get to their next jobs. Since I was under contract now, Anna wanted me to stay for a day or two as she discussed with me the various shows I would be used in over the next year. It turns out she is very personable under her hard outer veneer, I actually was looking forward to working for her.

I eventually returned to my office, albeit as a female now. The changes requiring a female presentation, anything else quite pathetic in appearance. The one time I dressed in male clothes and got a look in the mirror, I had to laugh at myself. The image looked like a female wearing her big brother’s shirt and pants, since I had lost so much weight and my waist in particular was so much smaller.

Just like when I flew to NYC for the show I was hassled at airport security, this time I suffered a full body pat down. Then at the request of the lady doing the pat down I had to remove my dress for a closer and more thorough search of my body. I doubted it had anything to do with security, it was just the guys manning the security booth that wanted a closer look at my assets. I did notice a camera in the corner of the room, smiled and waved to the camera. After the wave I was quickly allowed to dress and be on my way.

I did close down my business, one look at my bank account showed that any income that I might receive from the business was totally unnecessary. Pamela did allow me total access to my funds, her first statement was just to get me to realize that my modeling career was all that was necessary for any future income. I was allowed to work for others, just not modeling any clothing. Pamela had lined up a makeup company and several jewelry companies, their additional income helping to keep the coffers full and pay some of the income taxes. Although she didn’t ask for a fee for representing me, I made sure she was adequately rewarded for her efforts.

The shows I was in were actually fun, new and exciting designs to wear, and the thrill of walking down the runway camera flashes going off and applause at the design or my looks. I averaged a show each month, locations all across the country. Some were small shows mainly for smaller stores to buy her product, a lot of designs were changed to keep them from looking exactly like the original design that were sold by exclusive chains or fancy dress shops.

It was six months later when I opted for a couple more procedures, making my appearance as a female that much more convincing. The work was done in between modeling jobs, most of it permanent and designed to make me even more feminine. A lower rib was removed making my mid-section svelter, at the same time I had my leg tendons tightened making wearing heels more comfortable. From the time I woke up in the morning till I went to bed at night heels were the required footwear, most of the heels at least four inches high. My calves looked so good in the heels, now a necessity for me in the future.

I had my small Adams apple shaved and my voice altered to sound more feminine without much effort on my part. During this time my hair was growing longer, now I was experiencing three salon appointments a week to make sure it always looked its best. Even the most independent female gets used to the pampering, I was no different, the salon time special to me and always looked forward to.

It was four weeks from the last show when I flew with her and her team to Morocco for my first foreign fashion show, I had made the trip with no problem, my passport and ID now showing me as female, with pictures to match. This show was almost a repeat of the first one, so it didn’t take long to set it up. I was expecting to be welcomed by the other models, since we usually flew in from different locations. Surprise, surprise I was to be the only model for the show, an informal show not utilizing a runway but I would be just strolling among the guests as they sipped wine and took advantage of some finger food.

No advanced practice, we arrived on Friday and the show was scheduled for Saturday noon. It turns out the dresses were all new, something Anna had been secretly working on for months. I had a tech from the salon back home fly over to do my makeup and hair, then three assistants to help me change from one outfit to another. It was non-stop for over four hours as I modeled the designs. I noticed Anna and a quite handsome man dressed in native attire talking all during the show, but was too busy doing my job to notice anything else. Finally the show came to an end, I was checked to make sure my hair and makeup was perfect then told I needed to mingle among the guests. I did that for the first time noticing that they were very few females present. When listening to a group of young males discussing the show I found out that the sheikh, the one talking to Anna is the one that requested the show. All of the other males were part of his clan, or whatever you call it here. The couple of females in attendance were ones that oversaw his harem, referred to as ustas.

I continued wandering around, but tried to stay primarily to myself. I noticed that the sheikh had apparently concluded a deal with Anna, exchanging documents and money. Anna had a huge smile on her face as she made her way to her purse that was left with one of her assistants. Then the sheikh came my way, I immediately started to flee, not really wanting anything to do with him. One of his harem’s ustas blocked my exit, so I turned and looked for Anna. Nowhere to be seen, I was now worried and rightly so. In a foreign country and without any way to protect myself I didn’t even want to think of what he might want. For once in my life I felt vulnerable, in heels and a corset, surrounded by males that were all taller and more imposing than normal, it was not a situation I wanted to be in.

As he approached he gave me a careful appraisal his usta grabbing my upper arm to prevent me moving away. He asked if I was married, as he looked at my ring finger. I squeaked a no but by that time I was in full panic mode. He reached for my hand, telling me that he could give me anything I wanted, in exchange for me marrying him. I declined his offer in barely heard words and tried to withdraw from his presence. Well than I will buy your contract from Anna and you can join my harem. A life of luxury awaits you, never having to do anything but to keep your usta happy and occasionally see to my needs.

Anna finally shows up, a worried look on her face. The sheikh starts negotiating with her for my purchase, the dollar amounts he is offering out of this world. Anna doesn’t say much, finally telling the sheikh she will have to think about it. I have recently extended her contract, so I am not sure I want to part with her. The offer sounds good, let me think about it overnight and I will let you know in the morning. The usta takes something out of her hands and holds it over my mouth and nose. I look down surprised at her action. I try to open my mouth to scream as my body goes limp. Nothing coming out of my mouth, then the feeling of being picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder. I saw Anna fade away as I was carried out of the room. I think I heard the sheikh say she will be my guest until we can come to an agreement on her purchase price. Those few faint words all I remember as I was taken from the room.

When I came around later I found myself in his harem, young beautiful females all over the place. It took me a few minutes to be able to put a couple of thoughts together, then I managed a look at my new attire. The typical harem costume of small pieces of silky fabric around my hips and breasts with cuffs around each wrist and ankle. I was not sure if they could be removed since I saw no seams. Once the other girls saw I was awake they flocked over to me and I was undressed and bathed in a pool right in the middle of the harem. All the time the older ladies were keeping an eye on me and what was happening. It was so erotic to be bathed by all of these gorgeous girls, I was so glad for my disguise that I hoped would withstand the strain. I was hand fed some fruit and then re-dressed in some fancier silks, my hair done up with ribbons and bows.

My hands were hooked together with a short gold chain that was secured with small locks. My ankles secured the same way. I was then escorted to the sheikh's quarters. As we passed several windows in his palace I noticed the sun rising in the east. I guess I was out of it for most of the night. When we entered his quarters I saw Anna sitting to his side with a small smirk on her face. She was obviously trying to stifle some giggles and about to fail in that attempt. I was stood in front of them and a collar placed around my neck, the loud click quite unsettling to me. My handler placed something in my ears and I could no longer hear anything, that was followed up with a blindfold and my world went dark. I have no idea how long I stood there, my mind rampant with all the possible things that were transpiring around me. Would Anna get me out of here or would I become a permanent resident of the harem?

It seemed like hours before someone took my upper arm and led me away. The chains were still there, my stride severally restricted as I tried to keep up with my escort. I was blind and could hear nothing, having no idea if I was being taken away or back to the harem. I was stopped and I felt something attached to my collar then to something higher and above me. I found I was secured to a pole unable to get away, subject to whatever happens to me. Again the long wait, then released and my arm grabbed and taken to a car, I think. Still nothing said to me, I have no idea where I was headed or who was doing it. I felt movement and then a long car ride to somewhere.

Finally the car stopped and I was removed from the back seat. Another long walk then through a couple of doors and laid on a bed, still unable to see and hear anything. My shoulder brushing against the door as we passed through the only indication there was a door there.

I laid there for the longest time finally managing to fall asleep, since all my worst fears were not happening to me. I felt some hands on my body, soft feminine hands that were doing things to my breasts and vagina. I quickly got excited, was I back at some remote harem or did Anna manage to get me out of the sheikh's clutches. When you can’t see anything or hear anything the mind goes crazy, different scenarios thought of, no matter how ridiculous or crazy.

Then the kiss, it was Anna and I suddenly broke down in tears, all my worries for nothing. Once my hands were released I grabbed her around her chest and hugged her so tight, not ever wanting to let her go. I thanked her for saving me, over and over, my first words in days. In the harem and later when in the sheikh's quarters I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say and fearing any complaint would end up with me worse off than I was at the moment.

After I settled down some Anna told me all that had transpired. The sheikh wanted me badly for his harem, so bad that he kept me instead of letting me go with Anna. They have been negotiating for my purchase for the whole time, the last bid from the sheikh at two million dollars. Anna steadfastly refused all bids and finally the sheikh decided to release me to her. The cuffs and the collar remain on. He will continue to pursue buying me from Anna, that is the reason for the cuffs and collar remaining. Incidentally the gold in the collar and cuffs, all solid gold is worth almost five thousand dollars. Anytime she wants to sell me to the sheikh he will send his jet to pick me up and take me back to his harem, the harem he thinks I belong in.

So you belong to me from now on, not just a model but my slave, my property. If the sheikh sees you separate from me for any reason he will confiscate what he believes to be his and you will live your remaining years in his harem. I am not sure but I think the collar has a tracking chip in it letting him know of your location at any time.

So now we have a different situation between us, I no longer need to pay you for your services, and you need to impress on me your desire to keep me happy and satisfied at all times. I suggest that you start now, I am so turned on I need your tongue on my clit to relieve the tension. She grabbed my head and eased it down between her legs, and I started to work. It was shortly after I gave her an orgasm that I realized how much things have changed between us.

My mind finally grasping the situation I was now in. Unfortunately for me, I doubt my skills as a computer nerd would be able to change things for me. I let out a huge sigh, then started on her clit again, my future now dependent on my ability to keep Anna happy and content. It could be worse, I guess, I do love her and will do anything for her. Now though doing her bidding is a requirement to be able to stay with her, life in a harem is the alternate choice. That bath at the harem though was so erotic, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca