Kiki: A Reluctant Sissy

 Kiki: A Reluctant Sissy

My girlfriend and I had been out clubbing, visiting the same clubs we normally haunt but things were quiet tonight, nothing much happening anywhere we went. Then Melissa saw a marquee across the street from the last club we had just exited from that caught her attention.

It was advertising a sissy contest. Cash prizes and merchandise for the top five contestants. Melissa quickly looked my way and smiled, a mischievous smirk appearing on her gorgeous face. I applied my brakes immediately, I knew what the meaning of the word sissy was, figuring that my male gender would put me at risk of becoming one of the sissy contestants. Definitely not a type of contest I would ever see myself participating in.

Well that worked for all of ten seconds as Melissa moved behind me and pushed me toward the club. When I tried to turn towards her, she was able to take advantage of me and soon I felt myself being propelled in the door of the club. The bouncer at her destination just smiling at me as she held the door open for us. Melissa making sure I was safely inside the club before she eased up.

The hostess greeted us and showed Melissa towards a table right near the stage. I quickly followed not wanting to be left alone in this place. The hostess eyed me up as she pulled out my chair and handed Melissa an entry form for the sissy contest while I was trying to see what was going on around us. My eyes as big as saucers at a few of the sissies lined up to make their way on to the stage. Once I focused on the table I saw what Melissa was doing. I never heard Melissa ask for the entry form, so I presume the hostess saw a possible entrant in their contest and took the initiative.

Melissa was reading the rules for entering me in the contest, that smirk ever evident. I tried to mutter no over and over, but as far as Melissa was concerned she was not hearing anything I said. I let out a huge sigh as she reached into her purse to retrieve a pen so she could fill out the entry form. I tried to reach over and snatch the pen from her, while our waitress was taking our drink orders. The waitress’s hands playing with my longish hair, curling strands of it around her finger. My one hand went to my hair, trying to keep the waitress from playing with it. The distraction was enough, allowing Melissa to finish filling out the entry form and replace the pen in her purse.

The waitress, hands still in my hair, made the remark that I was sure to be one of the finalists, she is so cute. Melissa squealing in delight as the two discussed my entry into the contest. I did get a free drink, some fruity concoction with no alcohol, since sissy entrants were not allowed anything alcoholic to drink. I was never asked what I wanted, Melissa’s choice of drink and my free sissy drink delivered to our table by another waitress. My drink was placed in front of me, and I gulped it down, hoping for anything to help make some or all of this go away. I almost choked on the drink, but did manage to get it all down eventually. The drink did not help, the situation hadn’t changed, but at least my dry parched throat was quenched a little.

Since Melissa had finished the entry form, the waitress took it over to the bar, after snapping a picture of me with her phone. She conferred with someone at the bar and then returned a few minutes later with an entry number stamped on a copy of the form, the name Kiki assigned to me for the contest. My schedule for each night of the judging was handed to Melissa, two nights of being a sissy in front of everyone as they picked the best sissy of the many entrants.

I tried to plead with her, all of this just too much. I thought about my job, if I get transformed to look like a sissy how am I going to be able to go to work. Melissa saw my concern when I mentioned work, telling me that she will speak to my boss, about my desire to win the sissy contest. She is sure Natalie will give me the time off, even come to root for me, as I proceed through the contest.

Just like that I was an official entrant, even though I wanted nothing to do with any of this. Tonight was just a warm up, the first round of judging would start tomorrow. I even got a smock to wear home, proclaiming me as an official entrant in the Ultimate Sissy Competition. The smock to be slipped over my clothing, the hem ending mid thigh. Somebody had used a marker to scribble the name Kiki on the bodice of the smock. Of course, Melissa immediately helped me into the smock, doing up the buttons at the back of the smock. I imagined I looked a sight, a male wearing a smock, in a vibrant pink color. As I looked down at the smock on my body, it looked like I was wearing a short dress, my pants showing out from under the smock the only incongruity. Of course, Melissa saw that foo pah, approaching me and unbuttoning my jeans. A hot passionate kiss kept me distracted for a few moments, as they slid down my legs. The waitress assisted Melissa in removing the jeans from my body, while I tried to hang on to them. I never did see them again that night, Melissa just smirking when I asked about them.

The waitress handed her a business card, the salon on the card is doing the makeovers for the sissy contest, and Melissa needed to call and make me an appointment. Of course, Melissa had her phone out immediately and soon I found out I had an appointment at nine the next morning for my transformation into a sissy. The fact that the appointment had been made at ten-thirty in the evening spoke volumes about the place.

I closed my eyes, as the reality of the situation started to make itself known. Soon to be a sissy and strutting on the stage in front of hundreds wearing no telling what. Already dressed in a smock, my bare legs on show to everyone. Why did we have to go clubbing tonight, the start of a most disastrous time for me.

Once some of the other sissies found out I was entered in the contest, they all came by to wish me luck, and give me a good luck kiss to start me off right. Melissa was snapping pictures right and left with her phone, the ones I managed to peek at showed me with lipstick smeared on my lips and a bewildered look. I would have laughed at the image, but this was not funny anymore, my whole life turned on end in less than an hour. I kept looking at the other sissies, imagining myself dressed like they were and acting so girly.

Melissa finally dragged me from the club a little after eleven-thirty, wanting me well rested for my appointment in the morning at the salon. I begged for her to relent, I didn’t want to be a sissy and definitely not entered in some sissy contest. Of course, she ignored me as she planned what I could wear to the salon appointment. Finally she had enough of my whining, as she flatly told me if I didn’t want to be in the contest why did I let her fill out the entry form. I looked at her in disbelief, I had tried to stop her, the whole situation now so utterly ridiculous.

Once home she went to our bedroom rummaging around for some clothes for me for tomorrow. In the meantime I was told to strip, then handed a pair of panties and a nightie to wear to bed tonight. I stomped my foot in frustration, but soon found myself attired in the frilly lingerie anyway. She did hold me tight once we were both in bed, I think that was only so that I could not make an escape.

Morning came way too early, the little bit of sleep that I managed made all of his even worse. Melissa came waltzing into the bedroom her phone in her hand. She had called my work and told Natalie that I just had to enter a sissy contest, so I will be off work for a few days. She made it sound like I wanted to practice my makeup and hair styling, since I was determined to win the contest. Natalie wanted me to come in one day, so that my fellow co-workers could see the new sissy me. She promised to be at the club every night rooting for me, and taking videos to show the rest of the employees.

“Since Kiki is so determined to win, I will find her a position where she can work dressed as a sissy for a couple of hours each day, the least I can do for her. That way she can still dress and live the sissy life for awhile more. Of course she will get paid, allowing her some money for more sissy dresses”

I was listening to all of this, tears starting to cascade down my cheek. I wanted none of this, but it seems the more I protest the deeper I get involved in this crazy scenario. Now everybody wanting to get in on the act somehow.

I knew I need to stand up to Melissa and refuse to take this any further, but in our three years of being a couple I had never succeeded in doing so with her, so I sighed knowing my involvement in the sissy contest will not change.

I have loved her from the first day she noticed me, doing everything in my power to please her. As she dressed me for my appointment, I hung my head down, the clothes she is putting on me so feminine and dainty. I know I was blushing, my face and body feeling hot. I was a little unsure of myself, a faint feeling appearing from time to time. She did get me to her car, dressed in one of her blouses, with a bra and panties as lingerie. The culottes she had me wear are feminine, even though they had two separate leg openings. Cut full the material laid around my legs as if I was wearing a skirt, a very full skirt that swayed around my legs as I walked. I was given a pair of her flats to wear, a light tan in color with a bow on the vamp of the shoe. A brief look in the mirror and I could see not one ounce of any masculinity visible.

Out of our apartment, dressed as I was, I literally gave up. All of my efforts so far getting me absolutely no where. I would try to make the best of this, and hope I would have a part of my male life to return to after the contest. I did like being held last night, Melissa holding me so tight, several times I reached over to kiss her, her response simply breathtaking, I have never experienced kisses so erotic and sensual during our married life.

She pulled up in front of the salon, getting out to get my door for me. I was helped out of the car and led inside. At the reception desk she told them my name and signed some forms that she was handed. I was never consulted, Melissa signing for me. A lady from the back of the salon came forward, took my hand and led me away. Taken back to a room at the rear of the salon, I was asked to sit on a love seat as she explained what was to happen to me today.

Several times she asked if I was sure I wanted to pursue this sissy adventure, but each time I nodded my head in the affirmative. My one chance to stop this slipping through my fingers. I have no idea why I didn’t stop this run away train then, I guess I was just afraid of what Melissa would say if I did. Not unusual for me, since I have never had any confidence in myself, especially anything concerning Melissa and myself.

I do love Melissa dearly, I just hope that this so called adventure into the sissy life does not change her love for me. I realized right then that it will change things between us though, since I will no longer look like her husband, and probably not act like one. Maybe her love for me will stay the same, at least I sincerely hope so.

I was undressed and my first step toward being a sissy was made. A whitish cream was spread all over my body. Imagine me standing naked in the room, covered in a cream waiting for it to dissolve all of my body hair. After she had wiped off all of the cream on my body, she applied it to my face and eyebrows, leaving it on for a longer period of time. While I was waiting for it to work she mentioned that this one time application would be all that I need, the cream permanently stopping any hair growth in the future.

That thought occupied my thoughts for quite a while, already a major change that will affect me for the rest of my life. Not many males have no body hair, or a beard, or have any eyebrows. Once the last of the cream on my face had been removed I was helped up on a table. My feet were placed in stirrups that came out of the end of the table. A strap was affixed to hold them there, then the stirrups were spread wide leaving me quite exposed. She stepped in between my legs and sprayed something over my male member and the surrounding area. A few minutes later I could feel nothing, but raising my head a little I could see her doing something down there. I laid my head back on the table hard, fearing the worst. The impact on the table sure to give me a headache. But what is happening to my male member the greater concern.

I thought back to the sissies I had seen at the club, their nether regions smooth and flat, like Melissa’s. My mind instantly thought of how I could make love to Melissa if I had nothing down there to do it with. Then I thought of what I would look like after she finished her work picturing a vagina like Melissa’s between my legs. I doubted Melissa would want sex with me now, my appearance now to be more like a young female child.

I tried to close my legs, as I thought of someone sticking something in my soon to be female sex, a terrifying thought indeed. I couldn’t see very well, but what I did see was not very comforting. Flat and smooth, no sign of anything sticking out and now feeling wet and moist down there.

Time for boobs is apparently next, as two quite good sized breasts were glued to my chest, there for the duration as the glue they used guaranteed to hold until the solvent is applied. Right away they jiggled and bounced, the feelings they generated affecting me immediately. A glance down to my chest and I don’t think many will miss the fact that I now have breasts, the basic requirement for a sissy already in place. I used my hands to cup them, trying to minimize any movement, but instead the nipples of the breast form hardened causing even more feelings to somehow be dealt with.

Although the major changes were already completed, they continued working on me for another hour. My lower legs were treated after my feet were encased in a pair of towering heels. Two syringes of liquid were injected into my calves, one in each leg. I was told it would tighten the tendons in each leg, making wearing heels mandatory and less painful.

Lips were plumped up, now each part of a cupid’s bow. Individual lashes were added to my own, making my eyes look so feminine and dainty. Lipstick, eye liner and eye shadow were also applied, being told I did not have to worry about them coming off, since they were semi-permanent.

My hair was next, cut into a feminine style after it was washed and conditioned. Some curls were added with a curling iron, after my hair was dried. Then my hair was put into a ponytail with ribbons weaved in, bangs were cut in, then the sides were curled with the curling iron. My image now so feminine, with the bangs I sported a hairdo like a little girl might wear. I doubt a masculine style could be derived from that hairdo in the future.

Then came the clothes, frilly, silky and obviously for a female of a quite young age. I did get a glimpse of my image along the way, my image not reflecting any masculine features. A huge sigh on my part, my sissy image now firmly established. I kept going over in my mind the permanence of these treatments, fearing my life as a male and husband now gone forever. Husband, what a laugh, more likely a young daughter to Melissa. I just know it will affect our marriage, no doubt it will be the same with all of my changes. How can a husband be thought of in the same way, looking and dressing like a young sissy.

Melissa gathered me up, squealing in delight at my appearance. I was led from the salon, Melissa’s hand firmly holding on to my wrist. The salon had handled the charges, so confidant that I would win the sissy contest, gaining them free advertisement of their services and skill in converting this male into a sissy. Another confirmation of my success as a sissy

Taken home, Melissa seeing to it that I was never more than a foot or two from her at any time. The newness of the towering heels made me dependent on her for support, otherwise I am sure I would find myself on my butt more than once. At home I was taken to our bedroom, then changed into another sissy outfit, one of many now hanging in my closet. My male clothes no longer residing there, causing another huge sigh escaping from my mouth. My dresser drawers were also empty, but my bed is now covered in several different sissy outfits. All of them in pastel colors, and so feminine. Short skirts, and frilly tops the common denominator in all of my new apparel.

Another huge sigh, the sighs coming more often now. I am so screwed, even after the contest is over, everyone will likely see me as a sissy, a fate I will not be able to escape. With all of the things done to me I wonder if a return to some sort of masculinity is even possible after the contest.

I looked over the clothes laying on my bed, Melissa is having too much fun, the amount of money she is spending on my new wardrobe is substantial. Surely she is not planning on me remaining a sissy in attire after the contest, but the disappearance of all my male clothes not a good sign in that regard. I was eventually dressed in a nightie, then put to bed for an afternoon nap. Melissa making sure I was tucked in, with her right beside me as soon as she donned her nightie.

She had set the alarm, it now ringing loudly. No dinner tonight, just time to don one of my sissy outfits and hauled off to the club. At a little after seven that is where I found myself, backstage in the area where the sissies were gathered getting ready for the first parade across the stage.

For three hours we were paraded across the stage, the audience getting to see us in five different sissy outfits. The last one the most embarrassing as under my too short frilly dress I was wearing a diaper, a pink one no less. Melissa had seen to my diapering, now allowing any one else to do it. Ribbons had been added to my hair, and instead of heels I had to crawl across the stage and sit with the others in a makeshift play pen on the other side of the stage.

Natalie did show up to root for me, meanwhile she had been taking video of me in all of my sissy outfits. She assured me that she had found a job for me at work, I would be placed in a crib at reception, where all of the visitors to the company could see the cute sissy. The club had loaned her a crib, sized for an adult sissy, all she had to do was post a sign about the sissy contest.

According to Melissa I was doing well in the competition, one of the finalists already. It was a long night, when I was finally led from the club it was eleven thirty, so glad to be on our way home.

The next morning I was awaken by Melissa, her dressing me in another ridiculous outfit so she could take me to work. Right before we left she laid me on the bed and placed a diaper on me. I tried to convince her not to do this to me, but she just smirked, a sissy’s life it will be as she placed a collar around my neck so she could lead me to her car then work.

When we arrived at work I was led into the front of the offices. Most of the employees were there to see me in my sissy attire, The couple male employees helping me into the crib. Natalie approached the crib, fastening a belt around my waist, keeping me laying on my back in the crib. The buckle on the belt was outside the crib, beyond my reach guaranteeing that I would remain in the crib until released. A pacifier was added to my mouth, the ribbons secured behind my head to keep it there. As Melissa was leaving she assured me she would stop by to change my diaper and bring my bottle for nourishment midday.

A bottle, surely she is kidding me. No such luck. At a little after noon she arrived, checking on me than shoving a baby bottle in my mouth. I resisted sucking on it but she rubbed my throat repeatedly until I succumbed to the warm milk. She talked with Natalie for awhile, then came to get me out of the crib. She changed my diaper, using the desk in reception to do it on. Now I smelled like baby powder, as I was helped back into the crib. The belt again fastened keeping me on my back. Melissa had applied a little lipstick to my lips while changing my diaper, then kissed my ear and prepared to leave. I was reminded that she would be here at quitting time, then we would go directly to the club. I have another bottle for you since there is not time to find a place to eat at.

She did arrive on time, I was so glad to see her. Being a sissy and being stared at and played with is not a life for me. Almost anyone visiting the company did that and more. Even Natalie came to play with me often, tickling me and kissing my fingers. On the last assault she came up with an idea, rushing back to her office and returning with a bottle of nail polish. Very shortly thereafter I had ten pink finger nails. She talked about doing my toenails, but Melissa showed up to save me from that happening.

Melissa was thrilled at the nail polish telling Natalie that she would see that I got my toes done too, anything to help her sissy win the coveted first prize. A stop at the salon, making sure I looked my best. They had a few minutes to spare, my fingernails lengthened and polished, my toenails done in the same color. The collar again, Melissa taking no chances that I might decide to miss the final day of the sissy contest.

Once at the club, we were lined up again and led onto the stage. We had to stand there as the MC read the results of the first part of the contest. Then he told everyone of the prizes that the winner of the contest would receive.

A five hundred cash prize for the winner.

A year touring other sissy clubs, showing others what a sissy should look like.

Personal appearances at other sissy contests, fifteen scheduled ones as of this moment.

A thousand dollar gift certificate for sissy clothes, the leading manufacturer of sissy attire furnishing the gift certificate.

Lifetime beauty services from the Turnabout Sissy salons as often as needed.

I zoned out, all of this overwhelming. My earlier assumption that my male persona is history so true.

They held a vote using the audience applause, then read the results of the paper ballots collected over the last two days. I had won the contest, shock was my first reaction, then I fainted. Melissa gathering me in her arms and proceeded to give me a toe curling kiss, as soon as I became aware of my surroundings. Once standing again the other sissies came to congratulate me, hugging me and giving me lots of kisses.

My thoughts focused on some of the prizes for the winner, knowing that the sissy life is mine for the future. I imagine after a year of it, there will be no male thoughts left in my brain, already peeing in my diaper and wanting a baby bottle of milk firmly entrenched. I guess it could be worse, at least I get to be held by Melissa, and receive lots of pampering at the salon. I was reluctant at first, now it seems to be a part of me. A sissy life forever.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Felice: Cutest Sissy Ever

Felice: Cutest Sissy Ever

My wife was all excited as she entered the house. Bouncing up and down while eyeing me up. “Since you have been unemployed for so long this will get you back in the work force some, the job is super easy and you should have no difficulty with it.” She had a colored flier in her hands, pink in color with a picture of a juvenile looking female on the upper right hand corner of it. She handed it to me, watching me closely as I read what was printed on the flier. After getting half way down the sheet I quickly handed it back to her and retreated several feet, wanting nothing to do with this crazy idea of hers. As if backing away from her will save me from being sucked into her plan.

Well, time for her to unleash the big guns, her husband not having a chance to avoid this. I was dragged to the couch and pushed down on it, with her positioning herself right next to me. She now had both of my hands in hers and was leaning in to deliver a sizzling kiss. Not a quickie but a long tantalizing smooch with tongue.
I let out a huge sigh, once again I will probably be coerced into this, her assault on my senses always works. I might protest a little but in the end I am putty in her hands. After I was left a smoldering mess on the couch she smiled. Compliance was now assured, time to proceed to the rest of this scenario. Just like that I had unknowingly agreed to her wishes, even though not a single word had escaped my lips. I did get a heartfelt thanks for agreeing to become a sissy, a softer and more passionate kiss delivered along with several gropes of my little fella to help seal the deal.

She left me on the couch, since she needed to do some shopping for me, things to obtain so that I could qualify for the cutest sissy contest. I sat there for the longest time just staring at the wall, hoping that I will soon awake from this bizarre nightmare. After closing my eyes several times and re-opening them the nightmare was still here. I found the flier and read it over again, this time trying to figure out just what this job was and how a contest had anything to do with the job.

It was a contest for the cutest Sissy, the top ten contestants getting jobs promoting sissy clothes and makeup for a chain of stores supplying those items. That same company also has an internet presence and ships worldwide if required. The job was five days a week, eight hours a day modeling clothes and makeup at malls and at their stand alone stores. The pay is three hundred a week, once selected all beauty services, makeup and clothing furnished by the company. Each model will be accompanied by a company representative to assist in clothing changes and help with makeup and accessories. They will also furnish transportation to the venue and see to the care and feeding of the cute sissy.

It sounded pretty good on paper other than me having to portray a sissy. I no doubt will be able to look like one, my small stature and lack of anything looking like muscle sure to assist in my portrayal. Allowing my hair to grow out probably a big mistake now, but recently there have been precious little funds for a haircut. My figure was pretty much straight up and down, along with no muscles I didn’t have an ounce of fat on me. Arms and legs skinny very similar to my wife’s. I was pretty sure with some lipstick and a little makeup, I could easily be considered a female or in this particular case, a Sissy.

Libby, my wife had a good paying job, plus the flexibility to work pretty much when she wanted. It was a supervisory position with her riding herd on approximately three hundred employees. I meanwhile had been laid off five months ago, and despite doing everything in my power to find another job, was still without one. Not even a second interview with anyone, my skills if any were not desired by any company. A brief look at my resume and I was sent on my way, being told there were no positions available.

A while later Libby, came bouncing in again, her arms loaded with bags of shopping, I wondered if the store had anything left. I noticed the logo on the bag said Turnabout Sissy, where all of the pretty Sissies shop at. Crap all of these clothes are for me. I was hustled into the bathroom, all of the bags of clothing left in our bedroom. I found myself naked faster then I even realized was possible. While I was being undressed the tub was filling, the water smelling like perfume. I was helped into the tub and then told to stay, like you might tell a puppy when training them. The water felt good, so I was a good puppy and stayed.

I heard her in the bedroom, not sure what she was doing and probably not wanting to know. She came back a little later and washed me thoroughly, from my hair on the top of my head to my toes. Yes, even there got washed. She had never bathed me before, a new experience altogether. I tried to do it myself, but she would have nothing to do with that line of thinking. My few attempts met with a slap on my arm and a warning to just sit there. The warning was delivered in a voice she seldom used with me, one that I instantly obeyed. I was dried off, then dragged to the bedroom.

My closet door was open, the emptiness of it shocked me. All of my male clothes now gone somewhere. So my choices now were severally limited, cooperate to be dressed as a sissy or go naked.

She wanted to see how my new things fitted, so one piece after another was tried on me, most put back on the bed a couple of pieces placed back into a bag, probably to be returned. The few chances I got to see me in the article of clothing was depressing, my male image totally gone, a young female all there was to be seen. I use the words young female very loosely, I am not sure what you call a female that has just started school. Maybe in a couple of the dresses graduated from kindergarten might be a more appropriate analogy. Other than my size I looked like one of those young females.

After she went through all of her purchases, I was dressed in one of the frilliest dresses and taken to her car. No underwear, no shoes, just a pair of flip flops, nothing else. A short drive and we pulled up in front of her beauty salon. I had in the past dropped her off here for her appointment but I had never been in the salon itself. Well, there is a first time for everything and no matter how I protested or tried to delay her from getting me in there I found myself in front of their reception desk, blushing twenty different shades of red.

One of the other techs came up front to escort me back to a treatment room, while my wife signed the permission slips for my treatments today. I apparently was considered a young child by the salon, my apparent mother signing for me to have the treatments. Larger than any female child, but definitely not looking very adult like.

My dress was removed, as my whole body turned a bright shade of red, being naked in front of someone other than my wife quite embarrassing. Nothing was said about the male appendage in my groin, it was ignored like it didn’t exist.

First on the agenda was removing all of my body hair, a cream slathered over my body and left on for thirty minutes. Libby had returned to supervise my transformation smiling as my body is covered in the cream. Then I had to stand there as the cream did its job, naked and totally exposed. I willed my little fella to stay soft, the time or two I saw my reflection in the mirror he seemed to have shriveled up to nothing. Finally the cream is wiped off, my sparse body hair with it. The tech seeing my expression on my face told me not to worry, the cream removal is permanent, no need to repeat the treatment later. I stared at Libby, she just smiled and winked at me.

While the tech is preparing my next treatment I asked Libby about the money for the clothes and my treatments, wouldn’t it have been better to have saved that rather than take a chance on me winning the contest. Another larger than normal smile, the store and the salon have donated their services and clothing, since they are sure I will be among the top ten finalists. So none of this is coming out of our finances, you can rest easy there. Face it, you are going to be the cutest sissy ever and soon thereafter popular and famous.

When the tech came back into the room, she was carrying a tray of things, sitting it on the table next to where I was laying and then helping my feet into some stirrups she had pulled out from the end of the table. She used a strap to secure them in the stirrups, then spread them wide so she could work on my groin. I started pleading and begging right away, fearing where this was headed. Libby held up a gag, the implication clear and unavoidable. I shut up, maybe it will not be as bad as I feared.

For the next hour my little fella was handled and manipulated till he was secured to a spot on my groin. I had lost feeling down there, having to lift my head some to even be able to see what was being done. When I didn’t see him sticking out any more, I knew it was too late. Then when the tech glued a silicone vagina over the area, I knew my time as a male is over. What I now saw down there is the same thing Libby has, not even a little patch of hair, just two puffy lips surrounding a slit. I closed my eyes, a few tears emerging and sliding down my cheek. It might still be there somewhere, but anyone looking down there only seeing a female sex in its place.

The tech moved to my hair next washing and conditioning it then cutting it into a feminine style. The style left most of the length, but on my forehead I was now sporting bangs. The remaining hair was formed into two pigtails, one on each side of my head. The pigtails were secured with some ribbon, the ends of the ribbon hanging down with the pigtailed hair. She used a curling iron to add some curls to the bottom of the pigtail. The resulting image in the mirror across the room very juvenile looking. I looked like a larger than life little girl, maybe four or five years old. Not a desired look for a young male.

Some makeup was applied, just mascara for my eyelashes, rouge for my cheeks, and lipstick for my lips. Everything in a pale pink except for the lashes, those in a dark brown. The mascara mainly used to lengthen the lashes for that cute innocent sissy look.

When the tech told Libby it was semi-permanent I was shocked, but Libby explained it would wear off in two to three months. Since it had already been applied it was a mute point anyway. I hope I do get the job, otherwise job hunting is going to be even more difficult, the image in the mirror in front of me quite feminine, well once you get past the little girl look.

I did get a pair of panties to wear home, the snugness of them against my flat groin a little unsettling for me. The dress I wore to the salon was slipped back on me, the total look now very sissy like.

Then Libby had another surprise for me, a harness like you see on a lot of small kids, a way for a parent to help control her little child. It was fixed on me and the straps buckled up. My arms and hands were caught up in the harness, so I had no way to avoid being led away. She attached a leash to it and we were off. In her car I was secured, the seat belt and the harness making it impossible for me to get loose. Instead of heading back home she drove us to the local mall. I was shaking my head no as she helped me out of the car and then grabbed the leash and led me straight to the mall entrance. Once inside I tried to keep behind her, not wanting to be seen like this. She headed straight to a store on the upper level of the mall. I am sure I was stared at as she led me along, but I tried to ignore any looks or comments. As we entered the store I saw the sign in the front window, Turnabout Sissy. Oh gawd, now what. I was led to the back where they had set up a booth to take pictures and sign up the prospective sissies for the contest.

With her still holding the leash for my harness I couldn’t disappear. She filled out the entry form, then the photographer took a multitude of pictures of me. I was handed a lollipop for a few of the pictures, then a doll to hold for a few more. Libby was all smiles as several of the mothers of the other sissies made the remark that they were sure I would be among the finalists. Since we were in the sissy store, my dress was changed then I was paraded around in front of the store, a preview of my job if I am among the finalists. There were several of us modeling the dresses, although I seemed to draw the most attention from the small crowd watching the show. Back in the dress I wore to the mall and then headed to her car. The damn harness re-fastened around me before we left the store.

I was left in the living room still in the damn harness, my arms entangled in the straps. I heard her in our bedroom wondering what she was doing there. Since my male clothes were gone, I couldn’t think of anything more she could be doing. About thirty minutes later she reappeared and led me back there. I stopped at the door, seeing a crib now on the wall next to our bed. I had seen the crib before, her sister had used it for her last child, even though it was larger than a normal crib. I think the crib had been stored at her parent’s house, now her parent’s probably knowing about the sissy contest. It just seems to get worse with every passing moment.

I immediately started begging to end this scenario, not wanting to even think of being put in the crib for a nap. My guardian angels were on a break, as she led me over to the crib. She let down one side, had me sit on the edge of the crib mattress, then undid my harness. I started to get up, but a sensuous kiss stopped me in my tracks. The mittens from earlier were slipped on my hands, I was leaned back as she diapered me then fastened a strap over my chest to keep me from falling out of the crib. The crib was a little small for my body, so I ended up with my legs to the side of me and crunched up some, like I was being cuddled. A baby bottle of milk appeared from nowhere and she rubbed my throat to get me to start sucking it into my mouth. The last I remember of anything was when the bottle seemed empty and had fallen to the side of my face. She had turned on a mobile above my head and that along with the bottle of milk had put me to sleep.

When I awoke I realized I had wet my diaper, the wetness cold and thoroughly spread through out the diaper. I tried to call out to Libby, not wanting to be stuck in the wet diaper any longer. The first words out of my mouth were far from understandable, sounding like utterances from a baby. The pitch of my voice was higher, also weaker. I tried to swallow to get my normal voice back, but if anything it got higher and more garbled.

Libby did come and change my diaper, but left me pinned to the mattress of the crib. I now smelled like baby powder, and thankfully I was dry for awhile. As she left I received a kiss on the nose, even though I was waving my arms around trying to get her to release me. Apparently it was not to be. She did return a few minutes later with another baby bottle in her hands. I tried to refuse the bottle, but she had other ideas. It was held to my lips, then when I failed to open my mouth she pinched my nose causing me to open my mouth wide. The bottle was inserted, then a few strokes of her hand on my throat caused me to start sucking the milk into my mouth. I feared the contents of the bottle were causing my voice problems, and my failure to be able to control my bladder. Too late now to avoid the milk, much of the bottle now empty. Several minutes later I was sound asleep, dreaming of all things sissyish, wearing one of my new dresses. My teddy bear under my arms clutched tightly to my body.

When I awoke, I was released from the crib, then led to the living room. Right in the center of the room was a play pen. I put on the brakes, fearing that is where I will be put in shortly. Sure enough that is what happened, then the top of the playpen was swung into place. Secured in place I was now trapped. With the mittens on I couldn’t do anything to escape. I did get a teddy bear to play with, boredom eventually making me pick it up and started playing with it. I even talked to it, my voice now high and child like.

The following days were a repeat, crib at night, then a playpen during the day. A different dress everyday, and of course diapers all the time. By now I had lost any control of my bladder not even realizing I had wet the diaper until the liquid had spread through the diaper and was turning cold.

It was two days later when Libby received a phone call asking her to bring me to the sissy store.

Dressed in one of my new dresses, with Mary Jane shoes on my feet, my makeup refreshed and the damn harness secured to my body I was led to her car. In the back seat I noticed a child’s seat, something new. Sure enough, I was helped into it and fastened in. I just stared out the window, all of this just too much for my small mind to deal with. At the mall I was helped out of the seat, then led to the sissy store. There was quite a crowd gathered, but one of their managers saw us coming and we were led through the crowd right into the store. I noticed a bunch of fellow sissies on a stage set up at the back of the store. I joined them, the harness removed, and a badge stating my name and sissy age was hung around my neck. I was to be called Felice, five years old and not potty trained yet. When I read that I turned instantly red, My supposed need for a diaper made known to everyone. Of course, right on cue I felt a release and figured out I had just peed in my diaper. No control whatsoever, the warm moist liquid spreading through the diaper the first I knew of what I had just done.

I was one of the finalists, when it was announced I let out a huge sigh, the life of a sissy going to be with me forever.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Elizabeth: A Turnabout Gurl

Elizabeth: A Turnabout Gurl

Courtney was bouncing around as she came through the front door. We were a couple, six years committed to each other, three of those years living together. I was still in college, in my last semester to get my Master’s degree. She had finished her Bachelor’s degree a year ago, and was working as a receptionist in a beauty salon.

The old adage that once you get a degree, you have your choice of jobs, is a bunch of bull! The reality is that you have an education, one that doesn’t do you any good. Her degree in business management, did not open any doors, in fact, in a few instances, they just laughed at her. She spent six months looking for a job in her chosen field, then after that, she decided that any job would be alright.

Her job at the beauty salon was a chance encounter, she had to get her hair cut so she used the salon, while there, she saw the sign for the job, and asked about it. The salon manager interviewed her on the spot, and she was offered the job. It actually is a fairly decent job, the receptionist title a little misleading. She handles all of the appointments, runs the register, orders supplies, does the daily books for the salon, and generally makes sure the customers are happy with their services. If a dispute arises, she handles it, making any concessions necessary to make sure that the customer is satisfied.

It is not unusual for her to come bouncing into the apartment, just her nature, but tonight, she seems extra wound up. I had been in the living room working on my Master’s thesis, when she plopped herself down on my lap and twisted her bum on my groin, in an effort to get me attuned to her presence. Believe me I was attuned.

I looked into her eyes, “Okay you have my attention, what is this all about?”

“The salon is taking part in a nationwide contest to pick a ‘Turnabout Gurl’, the winner of this contest to receive a prize worth over fifty thousand dollars.” I told her that it sounded good, is she going to enter the contest?

Well I received a well-placed punch in the arm, the sting of that still reverberating through my arm. I am going to have to reduce the time she spends at the gym, if I expect to survive her frustration at me.

“The contest is for Gurls, males, who portray a female in dress and actions, they can be either a crossdresser, female impersonator or an M to F person at the start of her transition.”

I immediately backed away from her, I am not sure I liked where she is headed with this. This is hard to do with her butt situated on my lap, but believe me, still somewhat possible. A lot of times she scares me, her ideas and my participation in those ideas really left field.

I ask her to slow down, and start over from the beginning, and explain everything again.

“The chain of salons she works for is one of the primary sponsors of the contest, but the other sponsors include cosmetic companies, a chain of ladies lingerie stores, several jewelry companies, and a chain of shoe stores.”

“There is significant prizes for second and third place also, plus, numerous gift certificates from the different sponsors. Of course, my employers wants the winner to come from within their ranks, the publicity would be worth a fortune to them.”

I look at her skeptically, she can’t possibly mean for me to participate in this contest, can she?

I am five foot nine inches tall, weighing about one hundred and thirty pounds. My parents named me Elizabeth after one of the grandfathers, although how he managed to put up with a name like that, I will always wonder about. Back in his time, the name might have been given to a male, but recently in my lifetime, it is usually a female’s, all with that name quite beautiful and sexy. I think there is some British influence there, but since none of my family is from England, I haven’t the slightest idea how the name came to be used. Grandpa was nicknamed Eli, a name he hated, but unfortunately was stuck with. I managed to squeak by with being called EB, a cousin started using it and soon everybody was using it. I often saw the faces of relatives using my birth name; using Elizabeth really bothered them, so my nickname using my initials, quickly became the name to use.

I do have long hair, almost to my shoulder blades. Courtney brushes it for me all of the time, her below the ears coiffure, not requiring as much attention. I should do the brushing myself, but I am lazy, and if I can get her to do it for me, it is a win-win situation. I am not out the effort and she is occupied and not pestering me about any and everything. My features are not overly masculine, at least that is what has been told to me over the years. However, I never get mistaken for the opposite sex, so, I presume I would be classified as a somewhat normal male.

Why Courtney gets these crazy ideas is a mystery, sure we could use the money; with just her income and my part-time income, we need to watch what we spend very carefully. I still have some of the money given me for schooling, but I would like to keep that for some unexpected expense. If nothing comes up, it could be a down payment for a house for us, once I find a job, and we know where we will be settling down at.

I tried to reason with her, me as a ‘gurl’, just isn’t very plausible. The manager of her salon has told her that any volunteers from relatives or friends of employees, will receive all of their transformation services for free. They just have to agree to be in future ads for the salon if they win. She had shown my picture, from her phone, around at the salon and most of the stylists think I would do well in the contest. I did manage to get her to let it rest a while; I told her I would consider it, but don’t get your hopes up. This line of thought usually worked for me, eventually she will forget it and I would be spared the bullet, although this time I had doubts of this method working.

At my part-time job, I doubt that my boss would appreciate me coming to work as a female. I am a waiter at a local restaurant, three nights a week and Saturdays. The tips are usually pretty good, that, and Courtney’s job, handling most of our expenses. Unfortunately, I didn’t anticipate Courtney’s enthusiasm on the matter, so that Sunday the subject came up again.

I had just served our supper, it being my turn to cook the meal tonight, when she blindsided me. First she told me that she had talked to my boss, her girlfriend, being my bosses’ daughter. They often talked at her girlfriend’s house when he was home, so they had a relationship of sorts. She explained everything and he had no problem with it as long as I didn’t look like a male in female clothes. Then before I could raise an objection, she showed me a picture of a cute looking girl, her features reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place where I had seen her. She sported a different hair color and hair style, of course, the makeup made quite a difference too.

Then, she laid out a set of pictures, each showing a stage in the transformation from male to female. Her salon has software to enable a picture to be morphed using specific add-ons to show the customer what they will look like after the services are rendered. The first picture was mine, and the last picture was the cute girl. I set down promptly, and buried my head in my hands. I had this bad feeling when Courtney first brought the subject up, but hoped the gods would steer me away from this path. I got hugged, and soft kisses were placed around my face, an action she knew would make me agree eventually. I brought up about my classes and school, the smile on her face told me she had handled that also.

Over the six years we had been together, she was either getting smarter or I was losing intelligence at an alarming rate. She had taken all of my excuses away from me, and now was using her feminine charms on me to convince me to participate in the contest. She ate the dinner I had served, sitting on my lap, wiggling her butt every once in a while to make sure I knew she was sitting there. Every so often, she would place a morsel of the roast beef in my mouth, then hold the glass of wine while I took a sip. I told her I was full, not really the case, but her revelations had severally affected any appetite I might have had.

When she finished, she helped me clear the table and did the dishes. I put the food away, plenty enough for another meal, if I ever recover my appetite. We made sure everything was locked up, and she dragged me upstairs. By the side of our bed she undressed me, laying my clothes over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. I was getting cold, so she retrieved a nightie from her drawer, and let it slide over my body. The matching panties soon followed. I took in a deep breath, the feeling of the nightie sliding down my body making me shiver. It was all slippery and lacey, the combination of the two causing major stirrings in my body.

She undressed herself, put on a similar nightie and then, laid me in the bed. She spooned me for much of the night, about the time I would relax and start to drift off, she would pinch my nipples or kiss my ear, causing me to wake up. About midnight, I told her I would enter the contest, if she would allow me to go to sleep. She had worn me down, I did love her with all my heart, but she can be so exasperating at times. She pulled up against me, her warm nipples trying to bore holes in my back, and I finally drifted off to sleep a few minutes later.

Several times, when I briefly woke up, she had a hold of my body as if she would lose it if she didn’t hold on tight. Around six, I had to go to the bathroom, it took me several minutes to get my body loose from her death grip on me. Then, when I returned, she latched on to me again, even tighter than before.

Her excitement was once again prevalent the next morning, now, that I had agreed to enter the contest. She knew my schedule pretty well, telling me that I needed to come to the salon at four o’clock this afternoon to register for the contest and get certified. I didn’t ask what ‘certified’ meant, my mind already going places that I didn’t want it to. I told her I would be there, then, gave her a kiss and left for my first lecture of the day.

At three thirty, I made it to the salon, and walked up to reception. She squealed, then attacked me, covering the distance between her office and where I was standing in a second or two. I got kisses and a big hug causing most of the patrons of the salon to giggle at her actions. She talked to her manager, then drug me to her car. She drove us to a professional building about four miles from the salon. I asked her why here, her only reply to get ‘certified’. We entered one of the doctor’s offices, a female MD in general practice.

Courtney told their nurse that we had an appointment to be certified for the contest. She checked her appointment book, found my name, then crossed it off the list and told me to follow her. I was led to an examination room and told to get undressed. She offered me a gown, white with rear air conditioning already installed. I did as I was told, I guess Courtney has done a good job in my training, always doing exactly what I am told without hesitation.

A few minutes later, a doctor came into the room, laid down a clipboard, and asked how I am doing? I smiled at her, “I will be doing much better if I can be certified; I am not sure what that means, but know that is seems to be fairly important.”

She giggles, then explains what the deal is. “For this much money as a prize, there are some people that would try and get a real female into the contest, thus not making the contest very fair. It is her job to certify that all entrants in this area are real males, possess male genitals and do not have any stage of breast development.” I doubted that any person would go to those lengths to win money, but then, thinking of some of my college friends, yeah it is a definite possibility.

I was checked out and she smiled, now you are certified. “One question, I have to mark you with a tag, one that is not removable to insure that you don’t change with someone later. There are three options available. A necklace tight enough, that you can’t remove it, a chip that is inserted under the skin of your ball sac, or a band that goes behind your penis and balls that is tight enough to not be removable. Your choice, the tag that goes on the necklace and the band state that you are a participant in the Turnabout Gurl contest, most of those I have seen so far, elect to have the band placed around their penis, since it is not visible most of the time. These have to be worn until the judging of the contest, and will be checked at that time.”

I sighed, none of the choices is what I wanted, but a tag that is visible letting everyone know that I am going to be in the contest probably the worst of the three. I definitely didn’t want anything under the skin, so the other tag is my only choice. The doctor asked if I was married, a puzzled look appeared on my face. I told her ‘no’ but we had been living together for six years, so essentially we acted as if we are married. They had an addition for the band that went around my penis, making it stand out a little more, usually causing some extra attention to the organ from the spouse. Although Courtney and I had been living together for six years, we had both decided marriage was to be left until I graduated from school, a more reasonable idea, since I was knee deep in my Master’s paper.

I smiled, yeah go ahead. “I am already doomed, and a little more humiliation is to be expected.” She had me lean back on the table and she lifted my gown. She grabbed something from a box at the end of the table and placed it around my penis and sack; she tightened it quite a bit until it was snug, then used a tool to lock it in place. “It is waterproof, will not shrink any more than it is now, and is not able to be cut with any scissors or snips. At the end of the contest, they would use the same tool to remove it, a simple procedure,” she told me. Then, she held a mirror up for me so that I could look, the pink ribbons hanging from the small bow around my penis caused me to erupt in laughter. I am sure Courtney would love it, now, if I can just get her to leave me alone enough for me to get some sleep at night.

I felt a little ridiculous with my new piece of adornment, but this whole contest is bordering on being ludicrous, and the actual contest is not even started yet. I got dressed again, knowing that the pink ribbons are around my male member, causing a slight erection. Then, the tightness of the band came into play, stopping any further expansion of my member. That possibility had never entered my mind, I am not sure I liked it, but the contest was only a few weeks off, so I figured the forced celibacy would help me to finish my thesis and pass my finals.

The salon had picked up the tab for the certification exam, so other than the embarrassment, I was okay with the procedure. Courtney drove home, still just as enthusiastic as ever. We did stop to pick up some takeout, her treat. Safely inside our apartment, she attacked the zipper on my jeans, soon I am completely naked, and she has my penis in her hands playing with the ribbons. Like a cat with a new play toy, all else is forgotten, as she inspected, squeezed, and otherwise manhandled my package.

Several times I tried to get her to stop, reminding her that the food is getting cold. I managed to slip out of the situation by telling her I had to go to the rest room. You would be surprised at how fast I can move when necessary. Now, picture going to the bathroom with a bow around my privates and pink ribbons hanging down from the bow. By the time of the judging, I imagine I will be very glad to get rid of the adornment. We won’t go into the maneuvers necessary to be able to pee and keep the ribbons dry.

As I returned to the table, she had laid out the food, paper plates and silverware. Iced tea from the refrigerator completed the make shift meal. I sat down to eat and Courtney was right behind me. Again, she sat on my lap and fed me bite by bite, that wouldn’t have been bad by itself, but the wiggling of her butt on my manhood, made it seek to expand, the band killing that off shortly after it started.

She has always liked to sit in people’s laps, why I have never been able to put a reason with it, but in my case, it is one of her favorite positions. It tends to be with male relatives, I think she enjoys frustrating them, her innocence and angelic looks assures her of getting by with it.

After her extended play period, I washed the dishes, a few moments away from her probing fingers a pleasant relief. I took some time to clean the kitchen some, the counters, and the front of the refrigerator. When I finished, I turned to see her standing in the doorway. She walked over to me, grabbed my hand and led me away, muttering to herself all the way. I was seated on the couch in the living room, with her on my lap. In the past, this happened rarely on the couch, I presume now she doesn’t want me to escape, so if she is sitting on my lap the chances of that happening are much smaller. Either that, or there is something scheduled, that she needs to insure my cooperation in.

The kisses start again, her smothering my face with pecks and smooches. “I surrender, let’s save ourselves both a lot of time and effort; what is coming up and when do I have to be there?” She pouts like a kid who has been caught with both hands in the cookie jar, but still trying to proclaim its innocence.

“Tomorrow at eight A.M. at the salon, your transformation to the female sex. Plan on all day, you can go in with me, and I will drive you home after your sex change.” That said with a little smile, and a giggle. She looked at me, expecting some grief on the plans, but I knew if I did voice an opinion, it wouldn’t make any difference, so I remained quiet. I am dragged to our bedroom, she left me temporarily, to get changed for bed.

“What do you want me to wear for my transformation?” A smile lit up her face, and she walked to her closet and pulled out a pair of pink sweats, then a pair of sandals, in a matching color. I took them from her placing them on a chair on my side of the room. The chair where I normally laid my clothes for the next day. I received help in undressing again, I know she just loves my pink ribbons and bow, can’t wait to get her hands on them.

The evening turned out to be pretty blasé, she played for a while, then cuddled me from behind, soon falling asleep with her hands on my breasts. I wondered what that would feel like when I actually had something there instead of the vast expanse of skin that was now present. I am sure any sex change will include some type of breast enlargement or breast forms at the least.

Waking up the next morning, I remembered what is to happen today, I made my way to the bathroom, somewhat feeling like I am a convict on death row. Courtney had told me to brush my teeth and run a brush through my hair, all other functions would be handled by the salon. I slipped on the sweats, after being told to not put on underwear. It felt funny, my thingy with the ribbons dangling between my legs.

I inhaled once, taking in as much air as I could, hoping that would make all of this go away. But it didn’t, Courtney taking my hand and leading me out the door. Lost in thought, the drive to the salon is in silence. I have questions, but maybe the best way to handle things is just to keep silent, what is destined to happen, will, no matter what I do. My volunteering for this, with lots of coercion on Courtney’s part, is a fact. The ribbons around my male organs, a constant reminder of my commitment to this contest.

At this point, I should point out that the salon was named Turnabout Gurl, an entrant from the salon a big boost for their business. If I should place, or win, it would be an advertising bonanza. They had tried to get more entrants from some of their other salons, but most of their male customers preferred some anonymity in their life. The use of their picture after the contest a deal breaker. So I was one of the few chosen, all or nothing, riding on the few that entered from the salons to be the national Turnabout Gurl.

Once at the salon, I am whisked away to a private treatment room, Gloria and Sally my technicians for the transformation. My sweats are removed, exposing the cute bow and ribbons, both of the girls giggling a little. I am laid on a table and examined to see what needs to be done. They stand to either side of me and explain what needs to be done to make me a female in all regards. The procedures are explained in detail, although I had told them it was not necessary. For all customers of the salon, this is standard operating procedure.

I had viewed the picture that Courtney had brought home, a picture of how I would look after the sex change, so I already had an idea of how I would look. The girls told me that I would easily best that look, the raw materials so much better than they had guessed. I guess that doesn’t say much for my masculinity. I signed an agreement, that if I placed in the competition, I would allow the salon to use my pictures and agree to participate in personal appearances to promote the salon. I am surprised that I would receive a salary for doing this, in addition to the prize money.

A thick cream is rubbed into my skin from my eyebrows to my toes. There is no spot missed, the girls doing an excellent job of coating my skin. It is left on for about a half hour, then a wet rag is used to remove it along with all my hair. Turned over for the other side, even my groin and rosebud were treated. When they finally removed the last of the cream with wet rags, I am checked to make sure they didn’t miss any spots. Then, another cream is applied and allowed to soak in, this one feeling much nicer, with a scent of flowers. I usually get excited when creams are used on me, but junior is not feeling up to his old self, I am sure the bow and ribbons exposed for all to see, has influenced his reticence.

A machine is wheeled into the room and two cups are placed on my chest. The breast like cup is glued to my chest, my nipple being the center of the cup. Hoses from the machine are attached to the cups after they had injected a fatty like substance into each cup. The pump is started and any loose tissue is pulled into the cups. It pulls the tissue steadily into the forms for about thirty minutes, then the pump becomes cyclic, running for a couple of minutes, then off then starting again. Gradually, the fatty substance disappears, and the cups slowly fill. I should mention that the breast like cups are sizable, more than I would feel comfortable with as a female. When asked about the cup size, their only comment was that they were proportionate to my body, whatever that meant.

Sally is meanwhile working on my toenails, filing and shaping them, then polishing them a bright pink. The other half of the team, Gloria is working on my fingernails, getting then into nice ovals, then adding extensions to each nail. The glue is set with UV light, causing the nail extension to turn color, the finished look almost like the natural nail. I remembered their explanation earlier, permanent until my original nail grows out.

Meanwhile, the vacuum on the machine has encouraged my erstwhile breasts to fill the cups half way. Although the machine is cycling on and off, the tissue in the cups remains steady. The nipples on my breasts are hard and pointy, like Courtney gets when I play with hers. Sally has finished with my toenails, a bright pink nail color now on each nail. It is amazing that little changes in my feet and the hairless legs transform my lower half to that of a female.

Then the scary part as my legs are slipped into stirrups at the end of the table I am laying on. Sally adds a strap to secure them there, then spreads the stirrups wide so that she can walk up right next to my groin. A cool spray is felt and then nothing. She is working down there and then I see the ribbons laying over one of my upper legs. Before I can say anything she tells me that my official certification is still there, she just has removed the ribbons from it.

Another twenty minutes with her between my legs, and she walks around to check the suction on my breasts. I raise my head to look at what she has done and take in a deep breath. My male organ is gone, replaced by a slit with two puffy lips surrounding it. I stammer, asking her what she has done with it. With a smirk on her lips, she told me that Courtney wanted to try lesbian sex, so she has used a chemical on it and dissolved it away.

Since I had no feeling down there, it is a definite possibility! Surely Courtney wouldn’t do this to me, but then, the ridiculous contest I was in, a sure easy way to make the change before I could stop it. I just stared at the ceiling, a tear or two coming to the corners of my eyes. Sally asked if I wanted the ribbons put back, I just nodded, not really focusing on what she said or was doing. I felt something sliding inside my slit, the feeling removing any breath that I might be able to take in. I wanted to look to see what she had done, but mentally, I was not ready, hell I was scared to death, she had just slid something in my new female vagina.

I quietly started sobbing, I am a woman now and I have been penetrated in my new female organ. The vulnerability was there, also a little curiosity about what had been inserted in me. I finally gave into the curiosity and looked down at my vagina. There in all of its glory was my ribbons sticking out from between my puffy lips. I used my hand to move them to the side and felt movement in my new orifice.

It felt good, a pleasure spreading throughout my body, as if every nerve in my body was connected to those ribbons. Two different colored ribbons, much longer than the rest had been added, and Sally took them and tied a bow behind my back with the loose ends. She assured me that they would keep the dildo from falling out, which was the piece that my ribbons had been attached to. I suddenly felt very woozy, did she just say that I had a dildo in my vagina? No, that is not right, since I am a male I can’t have a vagina, much less have a dildo inserted in it.

I must have fainted, passed out, or otherwise become unaware of what was happening. The next thing I remembered was waking up, strange feelings roaming my body. I looked around, then, saw Courtney out of the corner of my eye. She had the biggest smile on her face, then reached down and pulled on her toy, just like a cat, causing my body to arch in pleasure and shiver until I passed out again.

It was quite a few minutes before Sally could resume my transformation. I just laid there breathing hard and trying to take in sufficient breath to maintain consciousness. The tingles were still being felt, and when I finally lifted my head to look, my ribbons were still embedded in my vagina. Courtney was holding my hands, both of them together while rubbing the palm of my hand with her thumbs. That alone was keeping me aroused.

Sally then starts on my hair, washing and conditioning it several times. Picking up scissors and a comb, she trims off the split ends, then starts shaping my feminine hairstyle. With my hair almost to my shoulder blades she has plenty to work with, so I am sure I would end up with a decidedly feminine hairstyle. As I watched in the mirror, the image I am watching went past the feminine, right to absolutely gorgeous. The new style framed my face, helping my round face look more like the ideal oval of a beautiful female.

As Gloria finished, she started adding highlights to my hair, painting some coloring on locks of my hair and then wrapping them in foil. The end result looked comical, like an alien trying to communicate with her spaceship. I say her, for the image could never be connected to a male individual. Those had to process for thirty minutes, so Sally eliminated the rest of my eyebrows while waiting for the hair dye to process. Two small lines highly arched over my eyes did remain, but unless they were penciled in, they were far from being obvious or masculine.

Four hours into my transformation, there is very little if any male left. The highlights had finished processing, so the foil is removed and my hair rinsed. Another conditioner is applied to my strands and then all of my hair is wound on curlers. From small ones at my neck to larger ones on top of my head, no hair is left out. Moved to a dryer, the timer set for fifty minutes, I am allowed to cook for a while.

My mind is desperately trying to handle the changes in me. The rhythmic pulse of the machine creating breasts for me, my hair in curlers, my body now totally hair free, and my nails painted a pinkish red all new sensations to this body. Then, I remembered the pink bow around the dildo buried deep in my vagina, how appropriate for the new female. The image in the mirror across the room, definitely female, the cups on my chest now almost full.

The timer shut down the dryer, Gloria came to check my hair, then moved me and the machine back to a styling station. The machine’s hoses are unhooked but the cups stay on, the vacuum still keeping the new breast tissue firmly against the sides of the forms. Sally checks the forms, telling me they have to stay on until the tissue stabilizes, then returns a few minutes later with two syringes. Before I realize what she is doing I get a shot in the nipple of each breast, right through the hole where the hoses attach. I thought about asking what the shot is for, but I feared I would not like the answer, so that question is placed with the multitude of others to be asked at some later time if ever.

Gloria removes the curlers, the tight curl remaining even though the curler is no longer there. The curls and the highlights make my hair look so different. Each curl is gently teased, the curls now spiraling down my neck and back. The ones on top of my head are gathered together some, and pinned into place. The look is quite feminine, the color and gentle curls helping to make my face so gurly. As Courtney wanted, I do seem to fit the definition of a ‘Turnabout Gurl’.

I received a few clothes, and am helped to dress. A nightgown type of dress and a pair of panties, but at least I am no longer naked. What I am actually wearing, not perceived by my mind yet; it still was fixated on the gorgeous female in the mirror. As I am helped into some heels, things begin to register, for one thing, I am much taller and hardly able to stand by myself. They show me how to properly walk, then, let me walk around the salon to get used to the footwear. The shorter steps and placing one foot in front of the other, did help my stability though.

I found out that the forms stay on, over a day or two they dissolve leaving nothing but soft jiggling breasts. So, I now needed a bra, a cream colored lacey number that held the breast cup gently in its embrace. For some reason, that felt good for my breasts to be gently held in the bra’s cups. I received a little more modest dress, but still silky and very distracting.

When Courtney finishes for the day, I am actually able to walk to her car. The ride home is quiet, both of us with a lot to think about. I do notice that she is looking at me, every chance she gets, taking in all aspects of my appearance. When we arrive home, I wander off to the kitchen to find something to make for supper, and she heads to the bedroom to change clothes. When she returns she helps warm the offerings I have found, complimenting me on my selections.

The subject we are both dreading comes up while we eat, I admit to her that the changes done so far have changed my appearance drastically. I can’t even see any male persona left, the extreme femininity had totally erased any male characteristics that I might have had. I ask her with an unsteady voice, if my loss of male looks will affect our relationship? I know she was attracted to me for my male looks and body, now, having me as a female was sure to affect our friendship, but most importantly our relationship.

Courtney smiles, “Yes, the male you has disappeared. I still want your little fella, but what has replaced your male looks, has turned me on to such a degree that I want to pull you aside and ravage you whenever I get a glimpse of you. You have no idea what your new look does to me, my nipples have been rock hard all day, and I have changed my panties three times today to avoid the wetness that seeps out every time I catch a glimpse of you.”

With that statement, I am led to our bedroom and she proceeds to do as she has wanted all day. The first thing she does is to remove the dildo and ribbons from my snatch. Over the next twenty minutes, I am made love to, the end result is that I am a puddle of goo. I know the only thing saving me was the somewhat stiff cups protecting my new chest additions. If they had been available to be played with, no telling the outcome of that evening. I presume I came, I felt several releases as she shoved her fingers into my new vulva. The reason for my assumption is, the cum flowing from my new vagina. Something only Courtney has experienced in the past after sex with me. She tried to get me up to take a shower, but I doubted I could even sit up, my body totally exhausted from the sex that we had experienced. It was more than just a release that I felt as a male, this was a total overall body release, every part of my body seemed to be affected.

With a smirk, she went to the bathroom, returned with something in her hand. She leaned over me blocking my sight of what she is doing and then I felt something being slid into my vagina, when she sat up, I had a string hanging out of my slit. OMG, she inserted a tampon in me! Now what do I do, I swear I can feel it expanding in my vagina, soaking up my cum. I am sure that is not one of the intended purposes of a tampon. I was assured that I would appreciate it by morning, the wet gooey cum dripping out of me all night, an unpleasant side effect of our love making.

The ribbons and dildo were laid to the side, ready to be reinserted in the morning after my shower. A smile appearing on Courtney’s face, again, her favorite plaything ready and waiting for her favorite gurl.

The shower the next morning was invigorating, I washed everywhere, my new female sex getting a lot of attention. As my hand wiped over the orifice with the sponge loaded with soap, I get tingles all through my body. It seemed most of my body now was just a large erogenous zone. My new slit, my upper thighs, anywhere around my breasts, even my ears, once stimulated, I was quickly turned to goo. I managed to dress in my new clothes, another day at the salon again for me, for some lessons in keeping the look fresh and inviting.

At the salon, I was put through my paces, having to style my hair and do my makeup myself until I got the jest of things. Some lessons in deportment, sitting, stooping in a feminine manner, and more practice walking in heels. The ones I have on now with a five inch heel height. I had a class late today, so I was excused so I could attend. Definitely not looking forward to it.

It turned out to be no big deal, no comments made, one female recognizing me, wanting to have an explanation later on why I was prettier than her now. One guy asked for my phone number, I declined telling him my girlfriend was very jealous.

Tonight was one of my nights to work, so after the class, I headed to the restaurant. My boss was waiting for me, wanting to make sure I looked appropriate. I got a hug from him, but insisted that I dress as a female from now on, a definite plus for the business. Getting on the new uniform for me was touch and go, one of the other waitresses helped me, I thanked her profusely for her help. Believe me it was different and took some time getting used to it. My new cleavage was now visible, and way more of my legs was visible than I preferred.

There was another small problem, the ribbons hanging from the dildo came to just above the hem of my uniform, Julie the waitress that helped me said I was okay, the ribbons might even help with my tips. Other than the long nails, I didn’t have much trouble, although I did receive a couple of hands on my butt during the evening. The one good thing was the tips I received. I made three times what I made as a male, even though I had less customers that evening. Maybe being a gurl more often is worth looking into.

When I got home, I undressed, the bra the first thing that got removed after the dress was slid off. I appreciated the support, but the band being removed felt so good. Of course, Courtney was there to help, but her cupping my new breasts was not necessarily much help. I know, after her touches, my nipples were rock hard. It was late and I had a class at 10 the next morning, so she did allow me to slip into bed. The nightgown was a baby doll barely reaching the bottom of my panties. The ribbons were visible peaking from around the edges of the panties, I know the dildo had made a lasting impression on me all day, as it rubbed my captured male organ. So utterly frustrating.

Although Courtney was playing with her toy, I lost consciousness, the day’s activities taking its toll on me. The next morning, I was awoken with Courtney’s lips on my nipples. Somehow they had become even more sensitive to touch, her tongue sliding over my nipple causing me to awake instantly. That was it for sleep, I finally headed to the shower to get away from her ministrations.

Dressed and off to my classes, I was early for my first class, so I sat and made some notes for my Master’s paper that I was working on. I received a lot more attention than normal, from the gals that wasn’t all bad. From the guys I was very leery. At times there were three or four guys standing around me trying to engage me in conversation. Looking around I noticed that other attractive females were in the same boat as I. From a Master’s candidate to a gorgeous female takes a lot of getting used to. Being gorgeous was not my opinion, but several of my admirers were using that phrase with regards to me.

Luckily for me the contest judging is only a few days away. Maybe I can survive until then. Once judged I can return to my former self, letting all of this just fade away. Somehow I doubted that would happen, my hair with highlights and long lasting curls, my breasts that were sucked from my body might go away with time, but we are talking months not days.

I did get some work done on my master’s thesis, the last parts needed to finish the paper, now I just need to edit it, check for continuity and then prepare my arguments to justify my reasoning in the paper. Since most of the professors listening to my thesis would be males, one look at my image and I might be able to strike a sexy pose and get the needed approval with my new looks.

Gawd, there is no hope for me. I have already went over to the dark side, thinking about using my looks to get what I want, a feminine approach as if there was any doubt I had been assimilated.

Two more days of classes occurred, both quite tame except for some unwanted male attention. Now the judging day, I will be finally through with this stupid contest. I awoke early, I had an appointment at the salon for the final touches, then the judging at three this afternoon. The salons had set up a closed circuit TV network so that each contestant could be evaluated before a panel of judges. Since the contestants were spread all across the country, about the only way to handle the judging. At one time the finals were going to be held in Arizona, but too many of the contestants had prior commitments, making that approach unfeasible.

Each contestant was given a short interview, then we walked up and down the salon for the cameras. A close up shot of our faces, then a slow scan of our body from our hair to our toes. After an hour I was one of fifteen finalists, how that happened had me worried and concerned. I agreed to the contest to keep Courtney off my case, I really did not want to win, hell I didn’t even want to be one of the finalists. Things were not looking good for me, I thought of withdrawing from the contest now, before any further decisions had been made. I scraped that idea when I saw the look of anticipation on Courtney’s face. If I withdrew I would never hear the end of it from my girlfriend. Another hour and we were down to five contestants, unfortunately I was one of the final five.

By now I had been up and down the salon way too many times, I even tried to fake tripping and losing my balance hoping that would let me out of the running for the top spot. My fellow contestants were not prepared as well, for every attempt for me to throw the contest, they made worse mistakes. I was now sweating bullets, as they named the final five places in the contest.

I held my breath, hoping as every place was announced that my name would be spoken. I guess I have extremely bad karma, because as each name was announced, it was not mine. Finally the Turnabout Gurl is Elizabeth, representing the salon in Phoenix. I didn’t hear any further words because I fainted. I came to, still lying on the floor with a towel laid over my forehead and a larger towel covering my body. Once they saw I was lucid, I was helped up and taken to a chair in the waiting area of the salon. I looked around everybody had smiles on their faces, Courtney bouncing around the salon hugging and kissing ever body she could catch. Once she saw I was coherent she headed my way, landing on my lap and planted a sizzling kiss on my lips as she held each side of my head preventing me from evading the kiss or backing away. Once our lips were parted I tried to get air into my lungs, her kiss left me breathless and shaking like a leaf.

Then I remembered winning the damn contest, the reason for my fainting. Then I saw Francine, Courtney’s boss coming my way. She had a huge smile on her face, when she saw me withdraw a little she picked up her pace catching me before I could make a getaway. With my hand firmly in hers I was dragged back to her office. She closed the door behind me, pointing to a couch on one side of the room. I sat down, trying to remember my lessons that I received a few days ago as to how a lady sits properly.

“Well, Elizabeth you came through for us, winning the contest so easily. From the time you entered there was no doubt as to the eventual winner. Now we need to discuss the next year as the reigning Turnabout Gurl. I have checked with your school, knowing that your master’s presentation is coming up soon. Do you need help with it or have you finished the paper?”

I told her it is finished, I just need to check for mistakes and then schedule a time for its presentation. She handed me a piece of paper, as I looked at it the dean of the school is listed and his home phone number. I looked back at Francine my eyebrows raised a little. She smiled. “He is a customer of the salon, but prefers to stay low key. Call him when you decide you are ready and he will schedule you a time whenever you request. As for your professors they have already been briefed by your faculty advisor, there should be no difficulty with your presentation then acceptance of the paper.”

“Now as soon as you get the paper submitted, you have lots of duties as the Turnabout Gurl. Of course, you will be paid for your time, your schedule is quite full, visiting all the salons in my chain and the stores of the sponsors will take at least a year. You will be properly prepared and touch-ups as needed to keep your appearance top notch. I am sure Courtney will accompany you to make sure you represent the position properly. All expenses will be paid by the contest, your wardrobe is already put together including lingerie, blouses, skirts and dresses. Of course shoes and jewelry to make sure you look your feminine best. At each stop along the way you will visit our salon to make sure your makeup, hair and nails are at their best. Full page advertisements will be run in every town visited to make sure that any party interested will be able to visit and talk to you.”

“Since you are a representative of my chain of salons I will pay you a salary for the entire year, the publicity you generate for the salons will more than offset that expense. That about wraps it up, let me know when you have submitted the paper and I make arrangements for your transportation to the first stop. You will experience another full day at the salon so they can make you as feminine as possible. I am sure you will enjoy the treatments.”

I was pulled to my feet, hugged and kissed on the cheek, then she scooted me out the door. I was still in shock, a year of being a feminine female for the contest, I don’t remember anything about this in the info about the contest. I stood there outside her office, trying to get my thoughts together. I looked down at my body, nothing male left, about as feminine as a female can be. I stepped forward, then another step, each step I advanced I was accepting my future, that of a Turnabout Gurl. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Then I saw Courtney bouncing her way towards me, nope I don’t think it will be bad at all. Now if I can find some way to live with my fate, I am sure Courtney will make it memorable.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca