Claudia; Fashions And Friends

Claudia; Fashions And Friends

I started and developed my own business, a project very few people have had any luck with. It took more than a couple of years to get it off the ground and eventually profitable, but with perseverance and lots of will power I was able to succeed in the long run. My solution as to what to do to make that possible was to buy older clothes, that were being routinely disposed of at thrift stores and charity shops and remake them into current fashions. I started with male clothes. But found that was not my magical key to success. Men’s fashions do not change that much, so even if the garment was changed from the original design, it still looked somewhat out dated. However, female fashions were a totally different story. Take a full skirt and change the waistband, then re-cut it to a pencil style skirt after shortening the hem and the once disposable skirt, now a fashion desirable. The main advantage in using older clothes is the fabrics available back then were much higher quality then those in use today.

It took the gals that I hired a few days to catch on to what I wanted, but they were soon evaluating the incoming goods and turning it into modern fashionable designs that were sought after and desired by the bargain conscious female shopper. I purchased a warehouse, where the ladies could perform the work. Then stuck my neck out and bought new sewing machines and laundry equipment for the ladies to use. The warehouse was fair sized, but was kind of out of the way, hence the selling price was reasonable. It had a lot of skylights, so additional lighting was not necessary for the ladies to do the work, other than what was on the sewing machines.

At first, I only had a corner of the building I had purchased for the sale of the garments. As we produced more unique garments and word of mouth spread I decided to open a stand alone store specifically for selling the goodies we were producing. It took about two weeks for our customers to find the new store, since I was doing all of this without advertising what we were doing. Let’s face it money was tight, with the wages I was paying, two payments on property I was purchasing, and now more help to run the store.

Things progressed so at the end of the sixth month we now had five stores and word of mouth was spreading about what we offered and our reasonable prices. I now have two females out doing the buying, shopping all of the thrift stores within a hundred miles looking for goods we could redo. I had done the initial buying of clothes, but the gals did so much better at picking what could be transformed into something salable.

We had branched out to every type of female garment, including dresses, blouses, skirts, shorts and even some evening wear. In a couple of instances the places we shopped at would set aside incoming donations till we had a chance to go through them, they still got their desired price for the items but did not have to clean, hang and pay someone to sell the item.

My ladies doing the renovations on the garments now numbered fifty doing the cutting and sewing, along with twenty ladies manning the stores and selling the merchandise. The gals doing the renovations were accomplished seamstresses, taking an old garment and making it desirable, in most cases, in less than an hour. That along with the two ladies doing the purchasing left me with quite a payroll. The first year I had reasonable success with selling the goods, but paying on the properties I was buying and the initial cost of the sewing machines and laundry equipment left very little for me after payroll was deducted from the quote unquote profit. There was a light at the end of the tunnel though, as I now owned most of the equipment used in the production of the garments and had paid down considerable on the warehouse and stores I was purchasing that were used in making and selling the finished designs.

I found out from the two buyers that extra items were being added to their selections, the stores adding in things they could not sell rather than have to pay to dispose of said items. The girls had started marking their purchases with a colored plastic strip, barely visible but proof of what items they had indeed paid for. The ladies doing the cutting and sewing went through everything, if they could do something with the item it was handled whether it was a purchased item or not.

One of my first hires, a lady by the name of Florence did the sorting of each completed item, looking for the small plastic strip as she sorted the items to be sent to the stores. She quickly learned the wants of each stores clientele, sending the appropriate item to the store most likely to be able to sell that item. Things she was in doubt about were stored in the part of the warehouse where we first had set up a place to sell our products. Now that area was becoming full, but the ladies were doing such a good job in redesigning the clothes that I didn’t want to complain or in anyway make a fuss about what they chose to make out of the used clothes.

In a way we were like a big family, several of the ladies husbands drove their trucks and vans to pickup the clothes, with me paying them a fee for their efforts. One of the gals older daughters did the cleaning around the warehouse, then one day a week made a trip to each store to handle anything that needed to be done there. Every couple of weeks she would clean my apartment, I paid her a salary, her gratitude shown to me often quite visible. I was always hugged and received many cheek kisses, her little way to show me how much she appreciated the job. In fact, over the last two years most of my employees greeted me with hugs and kisses. I presume this treatment was since I did not tell them exactly what to do, just let them loose to do what they thought appropriate. I knew everybody by name and asked about their families as I made my rounds. Even though I had stopped to talk to them they never stopped sewing or working on their project.

My lease on my apartment was up for renewal in a month, the landlord seeing a way to squeeze more rent out of me, so I decided to convert the old store in the warehouse into an apartment for me. A couple of the gals husbands were contractors so Florence arranged to have them do the work, saving me quite a chunk of money. I had already seen some of their work at the stores as they remodeled a bathroom or built a service counter. Somehow, Florence made all the garments that were stored in the unused store disappear and the work began, I had told them what I desired, but left it up to them how it would be completed. I was forbidden to look at the work being done, Florence said it would be a nicer surprise when the job was completed. Eight weeks later they finished their work, at only a fraction of the estimated cost.

A grand unveiling was planned for this Friday, all of the employees invited to see what had been done and whether I liked it or not. We even closed the stores early so those ladies could attend. Florence arranged for everyone to make a dish to bring to the unveiling, tables being set up in the warehouse so everyone could partake of all of the goodies. I suggested that their families be included too, that suggestion getting me more than a little heartfelt attention and thanks from the ladies.

We ate first then the apartment doors were opened and everyone toured my new abode. I had tears in my eyes as I made my way through the place, everything I had desired and so much more. There were curtains over each window, recognizing a lot of the material used, then on the beds were matching bedspreads to coordinate with the curtains. Then I took in a deep breath, realizing that the place was fully furnished, not a stitch of my old worn out furniture from the old apartment visible. The furniture was all second hand some of it from the frequently visited thrift stores, but refinished or re-upholstered as needed. I looked at Florence, who nodded and came to hug me, whispering that all of this was a gift from the girls for what I have done for them. She took hold of my arm and showed me the rest of the place, it was truly phenomenal what they had accomplished.

Florence announced the showing was over, pushing everybody out of the apartment. Once everybody but a few of the girls and her were remaining I was told that the next part of my surprise is non negotiable. Carmelita the gal who cleans my apartment and the rest of the facilities is mainly responsible for this next part. She discovered a hidden stash of clothing at your apartment, along with a wig, some cosmetics and a few other assorted sundries. Your dressing secrets have been talked about for a long time, but know we have proof of our suspicions. So we have decided this has went on long enough. She reached over to me and started unbuttoning my shirt, while one of the others undid my belt and let my pants drop to the floor. As the other gals left the apartment with a piece of my male clothing in their hands, wide spread giggling could be heard.

That left me with Florence who stepped over to one of the closets and swung the door open revealing an awesome array of feminine clothing. At the end of the closet was shelves with underwear neatly stacked on each shelf. The gals had sewn each and every piece selecting their material from all of the free goods that accompanied the items we purchased. Then I was taken by the hand to the second bedroom where an even larger closet was loaded with more feminine finery, racks of shoes lining the floor under the dresses.

On a vanity table near this closet set all of my makeup and two wigs, each on their styrofoam heads. Florence turned me so I had to look at her, you are to dress as a female now, the gals insist, nothing else is acceptable to them. I was pulled tighter to her and hugged tightly, then she suggested it was such a waste standing there nude when so many beautiful feminine clothes were available for wearing.

“The girls have one more surprise for you. Tomorrow at nine A.M. you have an appointment at the Turnabout Gurl salon to convert that male figure into something more appropriate for all of these nice clothes.”

“Once the salon learned what the girls wanted and checked into what we did, the services to correct your figure deficiencies will be no charge to you, since the salon has a favor or two they would like to trade for. In fact, they want to sell some of your items in their salon, a contract to supply them is awaiting for your perusal in your office. I don’t think you will have to worry about selling the goods in the future. Now get dressed, I am tired of looking at that male figure, we need something more colorful and feminine to grace our owner. Something to reflect her true nature in life.”

“Now get some clothes on, the gals are waiting in the warehouse to see you in your new persona, so lets not disappoint them.” I did dress in some of the gorgeous clothes they had made for me, feeling like a princess. I was literally dragged back out to the warehouse, where I spent the next three hours talking with everyone, trying to express my gratitude for all they have done for me. I was hugged tenderly by every gal, called by my new name Claudia and shown the love they had for me. It did not surprise me that not a stitch of my male clothing was ever seen again. The few male garments I was wearing that day left when the gals returned to the warehouse so I could get dressed.

The appointment the next morning took care of my figure deficiencies, Claude now permanently missing. The owner of the salon had made a point to be in town, so she could talk to me about purchasing our clothes to sell in the salons. They already handled a lot of new clothing, but wanted to set aside an area for what we made. In most cases our garments were of better quality than what they were buying new, so a much better deal for their customers. I almost had a heart attack when she mentioned she had over two hundred salons, wanting everything we could produce for her salons.

As they were working on my hair and nails I pondered what to do with the stores I now had. Francine the owner of the salons suggested I set them up as thrift stores, taking donations from the public, then sorting then to what could be worked on. All of the stores but one had no other thrift stores within miles, so we would not be endangering our relationship with ones we were already buying from. It all sounded good to me so I made a note to tell Florence my ideas and let her handle the details.

As I was leaving the salon after they finished with me, I saw my image in the mirror. No doubt any more, the feminine part of me is here to stay, something I had secretly desired for years, but couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. My friends saw that part of me and made sure it did happen, indeed my employees are my friends, my best friends.

Over the next few weeks we made all the changes, now buying clothes from all over the state. I have seventy seamstresses working for the company now, five buyers out purchasing more goods and five company owned thrift stores. The last store has been turned into a production facility for evening wear, with ten gals there creating lots of beautiful dresses. The deal with the salons worked out perfectly, they sell our creations about as fast as we make them. We will probably have to expand again to be able to keep up with the demand.

Just like in my business, making stylish fashions from discards. Claudia is the stylish female and Claude is the discard. The best part of my job is now going through all of the new clothes picking out what I like for myself. There is an advantage to being the owner, Claudia will always be the best dressed female in town. Also the female with lots of true friends, life couldn't be any better.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Hope; Embrace It And Find Love

Hope; Embrace It And Find Love

Some hair brained member of our schools senior class came up with this stupid idea. The Junior-Senior prom was coming up in a few weeks and in our high school there was not enough females for our guys. A most likely reason for that is the girl’s school down the way in the next adjoining town. It is a sought after school, any self-respecting female that could talk her parents into it would strive to be enrolled there. It was a status symbol, those that attended, looked up to and admired by all the rest. The end result left our school severally female deprived.

A member of the senior student council, suggested the idea, a way for all males to have a date and for the students to make a little money for their different clubs and activities. The idea sounded good at first, any sophomore girl that wanted to attend the prom could volunteer for the prom date auction. Then a week before the prom, a male could write in a vote for the female of their choice and their respective bid. If they were the highest bidder, the girl got to go to the prom with her purchaser and the student council will be richer.

The soon-to-be major problem had come from another member of my family attending the school, my idiotic brother. He was mister popular in the senior class, football quarterback, class president, straight A student, and member of almost every club on campus. He actually thought his idea would solve the problem, and the females would love it.

Our area would be considered high middle class to plain ass rich. That was one reason the girls school was so popular. The girls at our school were not dumb though, the idea of some boy buying a date for the prom riled them up quite a bit. They may be rich but resented the implication of submitting to an auction for a chance to go to a prom.

The idea had gotten some interest; a lot of the sophomore girls wanting to go to the prom pretty bad. The static from the other girls had yet to be heard from though. The instigator of this charming idea, my brother, was getting worried, no one signing up yet for his auction. The word was getting out, a lot of covert conversations were entered in to by some of the sophomore girls. Everybody knew they were up to no good, this particular group was quite upset by a female being auctioned off for a date. This was just not right in their opinion. Then, an application appeared for the auction, her name was Hope. They gave her height and weight, her interests, her likes and dislikes, hoping to create some interest.

Days before the write in voting, there were lots of conversations springing up all over campus. Mainly females, but also some of the male nerds were being invited into the plot. In a last minute attempt to salvage his idea, my idiot brother suggested that instead of one male getting the right to escort Hope to the prom, that all the guys bid on her with the total amounts of the bids going into the fund. They would then share Hope, each getting one or two dances with her during the evening. That idea kind of landed with a thud, since no one had seen a picture of Hope yet, in fact no one had heard of a female student named Hope.

The next morning several social media pages magically appeared, each sporting pictures of Hope. The guys flocked to the pages, and soon there was talk of a bidding war for Hope’s hand to the prom. The guy with the largest bid hoping to get a few more perks from her in the deal. I briefly looked at the pictures. She was pretty, also looked quite familiar; I knew I had seen her somewhere, but not sure where or when. I guess because my brother had come up with this insane idea, all talk about the idea and the vote conveniently avoided me. No one was talking to me about anything. I think the situation could be best described as me being suddenly perceived as a social outcast because of him.

Now we get to me, a sophomore, fairly good grades, but not as good as my brother’s. I would be hard pressed to come up with anything I was a member of, or any sport I played. I did play a few games of handball when I was a freshman, before I got beat by a mousy little girl fifteen to zip. That was the last handball I played.

I was five foot nine inches tall, weighed a hundred and forty pounds, and was basically a straight up and down pole. My only feature that I liked was my shoulder length hair. It was blonde like my mother’s, not brunette like my idiotic brother’s. No he man shoulders, in fact, any muscular development could not be found anywhere on my body.

I attended the football games with the other students at school, hoping to see my brother get flattened by some big husky lineman. We might have been brothers, but there was no brotherly connection to each other what so ever. Before this came up, I got along with the female students, we talked a lot and I helped some of them with their homework. In turn, they helped me with subjects I was having trouble with. Then, my big brother stepped in with his brain fart, and I was ostracized by everyone. I could tell he was worried, if his idea failed miserably, his reputation would take a beating. Two days before the vote was to be held his date for the prom dropped him like a hot potato. He panicked big time, but the militant females in the school had already gotten to the other girls. He tried anybody, and everybody, trying to secure another date for the prom. Absolutely no interest from anyone.

Then the principal of the school stepped into the fracas, changing how all of this was set-up. The guys could offer a bid, but the girl would chose who she would go with. Since the bids were for the school’s benefit, she allowed them all to be collected for school use, but the female would have the right to choose her own date. In other words, if the guys entered a bid, their bid would be collected, but no guarantee of a date; it was up to the female who she would choose. A few more girls entered their names, but that turned out to be only three more after the dust settled.

Still no one had ever seen Hope in person, the talk about who she really was occupied everybody’s conversation, both males and females. I knew my brother was worried, his appearance at the prom without a date would seriously mess with his reputation. He even went as far as borrowing some more money from our parents so that he could increase his bid for Hope, his last ditch effort to save face. Mom was dead set against it, she disliked his idea from the start, but didn’t say much because Dad stepped in and tried to sooth things out. The jury is still out on that verdict. I don’t think Dad will escape unscathed either. From the look on Mom’s face, I am quite sure of it.

I had just finished my last class for the day, heading for the bus to get home. I was intercepted by a group of girls and steered into one of the classrooms. There were five of them in total, Jamie being the most outspoken, and apparently the ring leader in this encounter. I was helped into one of the chairs we used for class, and Amy set on my lap to insure I didn’t get away. I rolled my eyes back into my head, dreading the words that would escape from Jamie’s mouth.

“We need your help, as you have seen this idea of your brothers has upset quite a few people. We are not possessions to be bought and sold, no matter what the end result is for. We have come up with a plan and now need the assistance of Hope to complete this exercise.” She was looking me square in the eye, seeing if I had made any connections yet.

I told you I was not that smart, my mind was working on it, but no revelations. Then like a bolt of lightning had hit me, I knew who Hope looked like, me. I struggled to get up, wanting to have nothing to do with any of this. Now I knew why Jamie was on my lap, her being one of the bigger girls, she easily kept me seated at the desk.

“We used one of your pictures and photo shopped it to create Hope. It is our idea to make your brother pay dearly for his poor choice of words and lack of good sense. There will be talk among the guys on what they will be bidding for, the chance to escort Hope to the prom. That should make Tom increase his bid to save face. It is our intention to get every last dime he has in retribution for his callous attitude towards females. He has already been told that no other female will go with him no matter what his bid. Everyone not involved in this fiasco has already turned him down for the prom. His last chance is Hope. We all have kidded him about his inability to get a date, such a poor excuse of a male, a supposed leader in our school and football, now a nobody without a date.

“Our idea is to have you be Hope, dressed to the nines to be his date. A little uncertainty on your part as to whom you will go with, but finally agreeing to be his date. Then after the prom is winding down, you unveil yourself and our mission is accomplished. The total destruction of his sexist personality. The only date he could obtain was his brother dressed as a girl! From now through college he will be labeled for who he truly is, not this fantastic student and sports star.

“We have avoided you to keep him off the track; we think his stupid ideas and attitude, has also ruined your social life. We have talked with your Mom, she likes the idea and will answer any questions you might have. The girls have all joined together and bought you a total transformation at the Salon, a gorgeous prom dress and all associated lingerie, makeup and shoes. Please do this for us, we will be with you every step of the way, to hold your hands and help you fit in. Afterwards, we will see that you get ample rewards for your effort, for doing something no other male would likely do for his friends.

“It is also our part of our plan, to have you attend school for one day as Hope, to whet his appetite. Everybody in the school other than your brother knows about this and will ensure you have a pleasant day. Even the teachers are in on this, including the principal. Then the day of the prom, a pampering at the salon all day, then he will pick you up at the salon. Please do this for us, you are aware of his attitude, he needs to have a little of it knocked out of him. Pleaseeeeeeeeeee.”

I was quiet for a few minutes, Jamie is asking a lot of me. I debated stepping aside, me dressed as a female not the easiest pill to swallow. Finally, my desire to embarrass him won out and I agreed to help them. The girls delivered me home soon thereafter, even coming in with me to talk to my Mom. My brother Tom was at football practice still, so it was just the girls, Mom and me. Mom made sure I understood what would be involved, this was not going to be some put on a dress and show up. I would be totally converted to the female sex; on the outside, I would be 100 % female. The gown they had in mind showed lots of cleavage and was strapless, so creation of that cleavage would be necessary part of my transformation.

Tomorrow after school I would be converted to the female sex for my day at school, then the day of the prom a more detailed conversion and dressed in my prom attire. I would stay at Jamie’s tomorrow night to keep Tom from seeing me, then ride with her to school. Tom, picking me up at the salon, would insure him not connecting me with Hope. As an excuse for my male absence, he will be told that I will be staying at my aunt’s house for a couple of days.

The girls left, Mom and me still talking about what was to happen. “Just go with the flow, you will get to feel what it is like to be a female that might come in handy one day you never know. She had contacted the salon giving them her permission for the changes. I still had to sign for the treatments when I got there, after it all had been explained to me. In bed that night I couldn’t get comfortable. I laid there wide awake, trying to figure out why I had gave in so easily. The fact that I had a crush on Jamie since forever, might have had something to do with my acceptance. I was surprised that Mom had agreed to me joining the other side, in the past, she had discouraged me from dressing as any kind of female around Halloween. So why now the sudden turnaround? Lots of questions, unfortunately no answers.

The next day at school, it just dragged along, but finally the bell for the last period rang and I was escorted off the school grounds, and down to the salon by Jamie and her group. Greeted cordially by a member of the salon staff, then taken to a room at the back of the salon. Two ladies explained all of the things that had been decided on for me, making sure I understood what was involved and how long the changes would last. The breasts and hair were the longest lasting items, three weeks before they could be reduced to a more masculine size and style. I listened with interest, but not as much as I should have. I signed the permission slips and they started on me. Today just some changes to my eyebrows, ear piercing and glued on breast forms. Of course, a feminine hairstyle, and clothes suitable for a high school sophomore. Makeup was to be included, Jamie to help me in the morning before school at her house.

Four hours later I emerged from the salon, even I didn’t recognize the female that walked to Jamie’s car. Nothing like my former self, the hair alone changing my appearance significantly. Dressed in a skirt and blouse, stockings and heels, my image said all girl. A quick trip to the mall for some exposure for the new me, although I just wanted to get somewhere to a bed and lie down. Walking was awkward in the heels, but they made me walk around our mall for an hour taking in all the feminine delights in the store windows before we made it the rest of the way to her home. It was only nine P.M. but I was beat. The stress of the day and the salon had taken its toll on me, maybe not physically tired but totally mentally drained.

I was given a nightie to wear to bed, using the guest bedroom in her house. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to share her bed, but knew that her Mother would frown on that probably. I awoke to a warm body behind me, her arms wrapped around my body pulling me tight to her. That is where her Mother found us the next morning, although nothing was said to me, at least. I got dressed in my new girly school clothes, had a glass of juice and we were off. Jamie did my limited makeup and made sure my hair was adequate. Surprisingly, a brush eased the style back into place.

I didn’t get a chance to see my image in a mirror, not familiar where her mirrors were located in her house. From the looks I was getting at school, I must have looked pretty good. Most of the guys greeted me with open mouths, lust filled eyes and on occasion some drool dripping from their mouth or a low grunt.

Other than that, the day at school was not that bad; everybody treated me as a female getting doors for me, or helping me with a chair. The girls kept me in their conversations, or give me a wink when I was being appraised by another young male. The encounters with Tom were the most rewarding for me. He tried to engage me in conversation several times, I just ignored him, and walked on like he didn’t exist. One of the girls snapped a picture of his face after I walked off, despair and almost in tears was what the picture showed, causing a very good feeling to come over me.

The entering of the bids had been going on all day, the different guys talking about how much they bid for my hand at the prom. I am sure that only made Tom that much more miserable. Finally the last bell rang, and we made our way to the auditorium for the results of the bidding. Then the females involved would have an hour to decide if any bid would be accepted.

The other three females did real well raising over three hundred and fifty dollars for the class funds. The girls had already decided who they would pick, so they told the principal and she made the announcement. Three very happy couples left the auditorium hand in hand. A lot of the other guys who bid on the three coeds left also, leaving only the ones that had placed a bid on me. Still when I counted the number of guys left, I was impressed, thirty one guys had bid on me, raising over a thousand dollars for the class fund. I was given the list and I walked off stage to make my decision. We had decided to take the whole hour to make the decision adding some drama to the event.

It was a foregone conclusion that I would choose Tom if he placed the winning bid. That was almost a certainty, the situation he had been placed in, forcing a winning bid. When I looked at the list again and saw what he bid, a smile came to my face. Of that thousand total, his bid was almost half of it. It was left up to me on how I would inform the group of my decision, I walked back on to the stage approaching the principal. I whispered in her ear my date, and then stood and stared at my admirers. I decided then to change what I would do on prom night. Yeah, I wanted to embarrass my brother, but also wanted to make the rest of my admirers somewhat happy.

I gave Tom a hug and a little squeal, a prequel to my unveiling tomorrow. I rushed from the stage, found Jamie and we headed home. The next day my appointment at the salon started at seven A.M., so some sleep tonight might be a good idea. Last night my lying awake trying to come to terms with my feelings had cost me several hours of rest, I hoped for a swifter entrance into dreamland tonight. Jamie complimented me on my behavior at the school meeting, thrilled at my little impromptu reaction to Tom.

I told her I was going to change the plan for tomorrow, I will still get Tom, but I wanted to give the other guys some reward too. She smiled figuring that I would do that anyway, just something that was in my nature. When we got to her house, I received a passionate kiss, leaving me breathless and breathing hard. I was still standing by the car when she stood in her doorway asking if I was coming in, or was I going to spend the evening outside? I hustled inside with my heels clicking along on the sidewalk. Her mother greeted me as I came inside, giving me a stare, but also giggling some at my actions. My smeared lipstick apparently quite comical.

The evening was subdued, not much to talk about, the coming day’s transformation taking up most of my mental capabilities. I did get to bed early, seven A.M. comes way too early for a new inexperienced female. Brushing my hair, getting dressed and something in my stomach took almost an hour; gawd what will it be like when I am fully transformed. Mom came by to carry me to the salon, her wanting a peek at her new daughter. From the look on her face she was not disappointed.

The rest of the day was a blur, stripped quickly of my clothes, my breast forms removed and a cream spread over my entire body. Even junior got covered in the sweet smelling cream. My nails were worked on as the cream did its job, the long extensions on my fingers painted a deep red the end result. It took them about an hour to get the nails to look that good, gluing on the extensions, a base coat, three coats of polish and a topcoat making them glisten as if they were diamonds. The cream got removed, my body hair with it. I didn’t have that much to start with, a peach like fuzz in some areas, a little longer in the genital area. But no matter now, it was all gone. My beard area got the same treatment, since I had yet to start shaving, they told me now I would not have to in the future.

My eyebrows were next, neatened up they called it, extermination in my words. There couldn’t have been more than twenty hairs left on each brow, the arch now very obvious and feminine. Yesterday they had shaped them a little, today they made them over to these ultra-feminine delights. I received another piercing in my ear, apparently one is not adequate for a young female teenager these days. A long chandelier earring in the bottom hole, a diamond stud in the upper hole. The holes were lasered in, no need to worry about the holes closing up later in life.

Then they started on my body. As I was laid on a table, my feet were placed in stirrups jutting out from the end of the table. Spread wide as if making a wish, then a cool spray and all feeling down there is lost. I am not sure why I would need to have junior hid, I wasn’t planning on taking off my dress, either before or after, the prom. I know a lot of virginity is lost on prom night, but since I was not really a female I definitely had no plans in that regard. Then, as my date is with my brother, Ewwwwww!

One look afterward, and sex might be possible, the perfect slit with two puffy lips surrounding the Promised Land. It sure looked inviting, gawd I am in need of serious therapy even thinking about it. Then my tech had the nerve to tell me that I could have intercourse, just not the well hung studs. I have seen Tom naked and he is anything but well hung, but still I might have to vomit on that thought.

The attention now moved to my chest, where two plastic cups resembling a breast are glued to my chest. Hoses are attached to the cups and a pump is turned on. The sudden suction catches some loose flab pulling it into the cup, the first step toward breasts. I sure hope the size of the cups is not indicative of the finished product. If so my dress may have trouble holding all of the new me inside the confines of the bodice.

To keep my mind off the expansion on my chest, my hair is shampooed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. According to Sally, my hairdresser for the day, a layered cut, blended to frame my face and drape over my bare shoulders in the dress. A multitude of curlers were added, then warm heat from a dryer started flowing over my head. At that point I drifted off to slumber land, the warm air and the pulsating suction of the pump, making breasts, slipping me into a restful sleep. An hour later, the dryer was turned off, the curlers were left in till the breast pump had done its job. Two hours more and the pulses stopped, signaling a full cup and my status as a female, a vagina and two perky C cup breasts now proclaiming to the world that this body is 100% female.

They applied a little heat to the cups filled with my breast material, the cups softening and almost fading away. If touched they were still there, but most would think they had touched a real breast. They jiggled as my body moved, much like real breasts might move. Since they looked like a breast, are shaped like one, and were actually my own tissue, I can safely say they are my breasts. Quite likely a long term resident on my chest. I need to think about that later, since makeup was being applied to my face and my curlers were being removed, my mind had all it could handle at this moment. The image before me was even more beautiful that the social media pictures that were showed around.

I was taken to another room and helped to get dressed. I shuddered often as one of the beautiful lingerie pieces were pulled on to my body. Of course, a matched set, all done in black lace. The corset was so beautiful, but once on it gripped my body like it was a vise. The laces as they were tightened shrunk my waist to ridiculous proportions, while accenting my hips and breasts. A gorgeous pair of silk stockings were slipped up my legs, causing all kinds of pleasant sensations to flood my overworked and stressed mind. The tightness of the stockings as they were attached to the corset, just made things worse. The panties maybe the most disturbing of the items, as they caressed my now flat front so tightly.

Then I got a look at my dress. First impressions was where is the rest of it. It indeed was strapless, fitting my new enhanced breasts so tightly. From there it sloped down my torso to mid-thigh, not a wrinkle to be seen as it conformed to my body. In fact, to get the zipper closed on this dream dress, the corset had to be tightened again. I still could breathe, but getting a full breath was impossible. Only short breaths now possible. Said dress did cover my stocking tops, but any movement of my legs exposed some of the lace tops.

Then my feet were slipped into my heels to be worn with the dress. Black patent leather with a five inch stiletto heel. One thin strap to help hold them on my feet and an open toe to show my red polished toes peeking through my stockings. Standing in the heels required some adjustments in my posture, as all of my weight was now on the balls of my feet. I tried a few steps trying to figure how to maneuver in the shoes. I am sure I will be hanging on to any male dance partners since even walking in the shoes took my complete undivided attention.

Pictures of me were taken, presumably for my Mother or other interested parties. First to arrive was Jamie, her squeal as she saw me in the lobby sure to be heard for hundreds of miles. After the prom, she would see to my transportation to her home and my deflowering. I gave her a look, but she ignored it, I guess I do have something to look forward to.

My heels were already making my feet miserable, so I sat on the edge of one of the chairs in the lobby. That is where Tom saw me when he entered. Immediately his mouth was open, his tongue trying to keep any drool from leaking out. I have seen him with a lot of dates, this however seemed to be different, maybe because he was so desperate. He took my hand and we left the salon. Outside he had his car, I knew it would not be a limo, since he had spent so much on the bid, there was no money left for anything else.

Straight to the prom, no side trips, no dinner for his prom date tonight. With the condition of my stomach at the moment that was probably a good idea. When we got to the venue he parked the car and leaned towards me. I put my hand on his chest to keep him a safe distance from me. I decided that he needed to hear the truth, I had something in mind that would insure his compliance and sufficiently deflate his big head.

“Tom you need to know something before we head in. The time for your reckoning is now soon to be realized. Your idiotic idea has backfired on you, too many females have been pissed off and now you have to pay a penance. Now we can do this the easy way or I can make your life hell swiftly and completely. I need you to go to every female at the prom, apologize for your stupid idea, and ask for a dance. Treat each female as a treasure, to be valued and cared for. After the dance ask for a cheek kiss, proof that you have done as I asked. If you get every female to kiss you I will not reveal who I am in front of everyone. We will start with me when we get to the dance floor, a sincere apology, a caring dance and I will kiss you on the cheek. Then on to the next girl.”

“To prove my ability to disgrace you, who knows that you wear boxers to bed every night, Looney Tunes boxers I might add.” I could see the realization sweep over his face, he mouthed ‘Harry’ and I nodded. “Now do as I say and things will be rough but you will live through it, rock the boat and it will be the worst night of your life.”

He apparently got the hint, took my hand and we entered the prom. Past the chaperones at the front and straight to the dance floor. He looked me straight in the eye, apologizing for suggesting that a female would allow herself to be bought, just to be able to attend a prom. He held out his hands to dance and I stepped into his embrace. He held me properly and once the music started we had an enjoyable dance. He asked me to kiss him, and was startled as I kissed him firmly on the lips. No leaning away, no tongue, but it was a nice sweet kiss.

He moved off to the next female, who just happened to be Jamie. I signaled to her to just go along, I think as he would have to do this to every female his lesson would be learned. I watched to make sure he did as I asked, it became apparent he did understand my threat fully. Jamie danced with him and also kissed him on the lips, his lips now sporting more lipstick than most of the girls. After she moved away he moved his hand up to wipe his lips, I shook my head no, he had been waiting to see what my reaction would be. He lowered his hand and made his way to the next female. Word had started to be spread about what he had to do, a few giggles popping up every so often.

The female would smile as he approached, knowing that he was being humiliated in what he had to do. They did get a dance with the biggest jock in school though, whatever that is worth. Once I saw he was doing as I asked, I found one of my suitors and asked him to dance. I held them close, laying my head on their shoulders as we danced to the music. The whole time there was not a fast tune played. All slow romantic numbers where you could hold your partner close and affectionately. Half way through the prom, I had found everybody that had entered a bid on me, a least they got something for their money.

I was watching Tom from afar, he managed to dance with most everybody, a few girls turned him down after the apology, but not many. He wandered over towards me, asked if he could have the next dance. I had to smile his lips were redder than mine, and oh so delectable looking. I relented and put my arms around him. He pulled me tighter, allowing my head to lay on his shoulder. He whispered to me a thank you for being so nice to him, he knew he didn’t deserve it for how he had treated me over the years. He has learned his lesson, Hope had performed her job well, but with compassion and caring.

As he left the prom, he was a much wiser person, having learned a valuable lesson today. I am sure he will handle himself differently in the future in all his relations with people, both males and especially females. Before he left, he told me he was going to take a walk and reflect on this evening, I started to wipe off his lipstick from his mouth, but he refused, a reminder of pleasant things to come was his exact words.

Jamie caught me wrapping her arms tightly around me. The next song played, she held me tightly as we danced to the music. With Tom, I could feel his penis, but with Jamie it was her nipples. They were hard as a rock, trying to poke their way through her gown. Of course, mine were not much better, the fabric of my bodice softly rubbing over the nipples as I moved making it only worse. Our breasts were smashed up against each other’s. A delicious feeling I might add.

That night was quite memorable, an evening never to be forgotten. Harry never did show up, it was just Jamie and Hope. When we first arrived at her house, her Mom helped us both get out of our gowns, while Jamie was in the bathroom her Mom hugged me. Thank you for caring for Jamie and treating her so well. Both of you have my blessing to share your love tonight any way you want to express it. Maybe if I am lucky, you might become a member of our family soon, I for one would welcome you. I am sure Jamie will approach that subject later. I got a kiss on the forehead and she left closing the door behind her.

Jamie came out, walking swiftly towards me, a few minutes later I was without any form of clothing. I was escorted to the bathroom and set on the toilet. Have you ever tried to pee with someone tapping their toe on the floor in front of you? I did manage to get the job done then was whisked back to the bed. A huge nightie that totally enveloped me was slid over my head. As I was trying to straighten it out I was pushed back on to the bed as she followed me, ending up on top of me her legs on either side of my body. She grabbed my hands and raised them above my head and held there as her mouth headed to my nipples. The nightie just barely covering the nipples, her lips quickly pushing the nightie away so she could get my nipple in her mouth. I took in a huge breath as she started sucking on it, her tongue caressing the nipple keeping it hard and erect. This went on for hours, I never did manage anything other than some kisses to her face. Wonderful erotic kisses that left both us panting.

Believe me I am not complaining, it was pure heaven. Sometime in the early morning we both collapsed, our energy total drained. Junior remained under the vagina, but I swore she would wear out my covering as she rubbed hers all over mine, grinding down to be sure I could feel it. Boy I could feel it, no doubt as to what she was doing. I guess you could say that Hope lost her virginity that night, more than once. The next morning we both woke to a smiling face, a smile that never left our faces the entire day.

It was decided that Hope was to be the person to complete high school, the rest of the sophomore year spent getting me a wardrobe and necessary female accessories to make Hope real. Our Mom’s also decided that both Jamie and I would attend the girls’ school next year, a much better place for two females in a loving relationship. Both Jamie and I did date some males, but it was only for one date, with no expectations for anything more to come.

Jamie took real good care of me, seeing that I was attended to as needed, her smile and glow after seeing to my care more than enough to make me happy. We did attend our proms in both our junior and senior years, but chose not to have specific dates, just attended as two females, dancing the night away in the arms of whoever wanted to dance with us.

We graduated high school with honors, with me making straight A’s my senior year. We both got scholarships for college, Jamie deciding to become a nurse. I declined the scholarship, instead deciding to become a cosmetologist at the local vocational school. Jamie is now a pediatric nurse, at one of the local hospitals and is quite happy. Jamie is trying to get pregnant, so some time as a mother is likely in my future. Working with all the young kids, just makes her want one herself even more.

I graduated beauty school with honors, and two years later now own a beauty salon of my own. My salon is part of a national chain, the same as what first transformed me to the female gender. I have made a lot of males happy, just like me they just needed to see what their life as a female would be like, then join the ranks. It is so rewarding watching as they discover their feminine side, then see them reach out to make their vision become real.

Well I need to get home, dinner needs to be prepared and then I need to freshen up, since I have a lot to do tonight to keep Jamie happy and contended. I emerged from the bedroom later, a cute baby doll nightie, thong panties and five inch heels. Of course, fresh lipstick and my hair piled on top of my head to make access to my neck and breasts easier for my love. Yeah it is hard life, but oh so much fun. Now when we have our baby, things will likely get even more exciting.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Loren; Dressing For Success

Loren; Dressing For Success

I had only been at this job for three months, I handled emails from customers seeking a specific product, not found in our catalog. It was my job to point out similar items that might be to their liking. Then research the item they requested finding out if it might fit our product mix. I had to find out who made the product, who was selling it, and the prices it was selling for. This information was then forwarded to my boss for consideration. I added to the return email that our company is considering adding the product, so be sure and get back with us in the near future.

I doubted that I accomplished much, my suggestions of similar items probably ignored by the customer. From my research most of the products that I looked up would not be viable as a product for us, their potential sales not enough to be worth adding the item to our warehouse. It is a simple job, not difficult, my typing skills though coming in very handy.

I learned typing in high school, my typing teacher constantly harping on me, forcing me to learn to type properly. As a result of her intervention my speed of eighty words a minute makes this job a breeze. I owe my typing teacher a debt of gratitude, a skill I didn’t want, that I use every day now.

The company has been making quite a few changes lately, leaving me a little worried for my continued employment. The lack of a strong economy and our diminishing sales had forced them to take the initiative and make a lot of drastic changes. I managed to survive the reduction of the work force, how that happened escapes me. Now they were focusing on changes to the workplace to make it a more enjoyable place to work, according to them.

They hoped that would increase productiveness and persuade well trained employees to stay with the company, saving them more money in the long run. Along with trying to make the employees more comfortable, they had increased the workload, asking each employee to accomplish quite a bit more in their job every day.

Of the fifteen hundred employees, over fourteen hundred are female. Except for a couple of males in the office, one of which is me, the other males all worked in the warehouse, shipping out the orders. Then one of our executives noticed that a lot of companies were splitting up their workers, forming smaller companies with groups of them then sub-contracting their services to the main company. This saved on benefits and gave the company another way of hiding some of the profits, something that was shrinking as the days went by.

So last week all of the male and female shipping employees were separated from the company forming a new entity that sub-contracted the shipping work. That left me and one other male working for the main business, along with thirteen hundred females. All of our executives were female, the one only other male a PA to the CEO of the company. The separation seemed to work out fine, things running smooth right from the start with no interruption.

I noticed a few days later that emails from our bosses tended to be more female oriented, conveniently forgetting the two males among the employees. Bathrooms on our floor of the office were being converted to ladies bathrooms, since the bulk of the employees were female now. In fact, I think they forgot completely about the two lowly males working for them. I know I had to use the one handicap restroom on the main floor, a twenty minute trek to get to it. There is nobody to complain to, my supervisors apparently oblivious to the one male working on the third floor.

Then a new CEO was hired in, I imagine to try and turn the company around. Rumors still had us in declining sales, with not much prospect of the situation getting better. Morale was at an all-time low, the new executive having her hands full from the start. She split up all of the employees into work groups, which held meetings daily to discuss work, areas to focus on and new ideas to get things back to normal.

The idea is a widely used concept in the orient, one that has done wonders for their companies. I was in a group with thirty females, all office workers on my floor. I attended the meetings, but tried to stay inconspicuous. Some of the ladies had some good ideas, they were tried and proved to be quite successful. The ideas were spread to the other work groups and soon there seemed to be a glimmer of hope that things might be turning around some.

My email that morning definitely got my attention. It was headed new dress code. I read with some apprehension that dresses or skirts and blouses were mandated for all employees of the company. No slacks, jeans, or pants were allowed anymore. The change in dress code is to make the office more professional, and establish some working standards that are sorely needed. To ease the financial burden that this might place on some of the employees, a local company has agreed to furnish three complete outfits per employee at no charge, in exchange for some advertising in our catalog and merchandise that they could use in their business.

At the bottom of the email is our individual appointment times to be measured and fitted with our outfits. I swallowed hard, mine is tomorrow morning at eight A.M. I tried to get a hold of my immediate supervisor, this can’t be happening to me. It was a few minutes after quitting time when she eventually called me back, telling me to come to her office as I was leaving the building. I finished closing down my computer, gathered my things and headed to her office.

As I entered her office, she gave me a questioning look, asking me where I worked. I told her that I had just phoned her about the dress code, wanting to know if it applied to me. She asked my name, as I was spelling it for her she typed it into her computer. She repeated it as the info came up on her screen, then listed the info on the file. “Loren Davidson, hired 3/15/2016, email specialist, age 27, unmarried, female.”

I caught my breath suddenly at the last word out of her mouth. “Did you say female just now?” She stared at the screen again, then looked my way. “Yes, you are a single female employee of this company. As to the question about the dress code affecting you. Yes it does, failure to follow the dress code can lead to termination if you fail to follow the published guide lines.”

I tried to point out that I am a male employee, not a female, but she reiterated that the personnel file is correct, and I should attend my clothing appointment in the morning as scheduled. “Now I have other matters to attend to, I will see you after lunch, when you return from your fitting. You should be properly attired as to the terms of the new dress code or I will have to send you home without pay.”

I was in a daze as I made my way to my car. “The company thinks that I am a female, how in the hell am I going to get them to see that I am a male.” One look in the rear view mirror confirmed my predicament. The face and head looked slightly female, with my hair in a high ponytail and some wisps of hair on my forehead like I had bangs, it would not be impossible for somebody to presume that I was a female.

I have dressed fairly masculine since I was hired, pants and polo shirts most days. I have no breasts, in fact, my figure is fairly straight up and down no matter which angle you view me from. My beard is light, but in the afternoon you can definitely see a beard shadow, a definite sign that the employee is male.

I tried to put together how I had been classified as a female on my personnel file. A clerical error, is the only explanation I could come up with. Now I had to decide if I am going to attend the appointment in the morning or face the reality of losing my job. This job had been hard enough to find, I imagine finding a replacement would be almost impossible. Being fired would only add to the problems, so I tried to find some reasons to persuade myself to swallow my pride and show up dressed as a female tomorrow at work.

I fretted about my situation most of the evening, then decided to see where I had to go to get my outfits tomorrow. I had printed the email when it arrived in my inbox. Even when I received the email, I had the feeling in my gut that I would not be able to escape this cruel fate. The name of the place is the Turnabout Gurl Salon, a beauty salon and clothing boutique. The address was another bad omen, only two blocks from our corporate headquarters.

Nothing transpired the rest of the evening to stay my execution the next morning. No phone calls wanting me to be somewhere else tomorrow, no last minute pardon from higher up. Somehow I managed to get asleep, but the dreams left me with an extremely upset stomach the next morning. I skipped breakfast, I am sure anything I ate would not stay down long. The email told all employees to only wear some workout clothes, since the clothing furnished would be business appropriate for use after the appointment.

My stomach doing flip flops as I got up out of bed. I finally ended up leaving last night’s meal in my bathroom, my nerves were on edge and I couldn’t relax. I finally had to leave for the salon, to be able to keep the appointment. I had thought about not going, but my bosses words kept playing through my mind as I left my home. I needed the job too much, too chicken to stand up to them, then have to find another job. I guess the main problem now is how to correct my gender status on my personnel file.

I parked and slowly made my way to the door. After swallowing hard I let out a big sigh and entered the salon. “I am Loren Davidson and I have an appointment this morning made by my employer.” She checked her computer, then found my name and told me someone will be right up to get me. A few minutes later Beth appeared and took my hand to lead me to the back. She had given me a quick head to toe look as she approached me, so I am sure she realizes that I am a male.

In an office in the back of the salon I am shown to a chair in front of an absolutely gorgeous woman. She is talking on the phone to someone, although she stands to shake my hand. I wasn’t trying to listen to her conversation, but when my name got brought up, my ears also perked up. “Yes I am sure, Loren is a male and you have him listed as a female. I know things are chaotic over there, but since when do your executives fail to notice the difference between a male and a female. Surely your eyesight is not that bad.” She listens to the response, then tells them she will handle the problem, but there better not be any fall out because of this. She promptly hangs up, then comes around and hugs me like my Mom used to do. She grabs my hand and leads me to a sofa against the far wall. After I set down, she sits right next to me.

“Well Loren it seems we need to have a talk and try and resolve this little problem. First off I need to know a lot about you, when you started with the company and what you want to do with your life. I need the truth, so that I can properly advise you in what your options are. There is a lot more to this than what appears on the surface, especially concerning you. So we have all morning, so let’s get talking.”

I stared at her, she seems so friendly, but wanting to hear my story seems a little much. I hesitate, trying to think of what to do. She grabs my hand, squeezes it some, and then holds it in her lap. I break down and tell her all about me, how I got the job, and what I do for the company. She never interrupts, but listens carefully to everything I say. I do find out that her name is Dallas, the COO of the Turnabout Gurl Salon. She is in town checking on other businesses for the owner of the salons. Forty minutes later I am talked out, and visibly relax into the sofa. I didn’t realize how tense I was as I gave her my history.

She gets up, goes to her computer, and starts typing. As she is waiting for a response, Beth gets us something to drink, and then asks if she can get some measurements while we wait. I hoped that would not be necessary, that the problem could be straightened out, but eventually let out a big sigh, telling her to go ahead. I am stood up, and Beth measures me in all the necessary spots, writing the figures on a pad. Dallas’s computer pings and she reads the response to her question. Beth is told to go ahead and get some things picked out, and also arrange for a full temporary transformation for me. Beth leaves and Dallas comes to sit next to me again.

“Let me explain what has happened and my recommendation to handle the problem that it has caused. When your male workers were separated into a separate company, the parent company applied and received outside funding for a female owned and run business. That means that all employees of your company are supposed to be female. Your records and one other individual were shown as female, even though both of you are of the male gender. We will presume someone in personnel did the changing of the records, but of course no one is admitting guilt or why it was done.”

“Since the funding stated that all employees are female, you and this other individual either have to appear as female in the workplace or you have to be let go. They have already accepted and used part of the money, so they have no recourse now. I have already handled the other male employee, and I suggest the same for you. He has agreed to present as a female for the future, in exchange for better benefits and a salaried position. All of his transformation costs and clothing will be paid by me, in exchange I get that same sum of money in advertising and merchandise thru your companies catalog. I am alright with that arrangement, so from my standpoint we have no problem.”

“I take it that you have not spent any time as a female in your life, so I suggest that we do a temporary transformation for you, along with a wardrobe sufficient for a week or two. Spend the time exploring whether you can live with this, then come back and we will talk some more about the future. Before you turn this down, you will be promoted to your boss’s job, and be paid a salary instead of an hourly rate. The salary is equal to three times you annual earnings, so take some time to think it over. If I may suggest that you join Beth in our dining room, where we will order you some early lunch. When and if you decide let her know and we can either start or I can notify the company of your refusal to participate. I think you will find the experience enlightening and well worth the time and effort.” I get a hug from Dallas as Beth reaches out her hand to lead me away.

Beth then led me to another room, much larger with a refrigerator, sinks and a microwave. Among a group of tables scattered around the room, a table in the corner already has some food on it and this is where she took me. There was a delicious looking salad with several different dressings, fruit slices with another sweeter type of sauce and then some cookies, they didn’t look low in calories, but the way I drool over cookies I soon tried one of them. I closed my eyes, I couldn’t believe how good they tasted. I was letting out a low moan, Beth giggling at my actions. I was good, taking some salad, then some fruit, then at least one of each type of cookie. With my appetite somewhat sated I asked her some questions.

“I presume you can handle the transformation, but I know nothing about being a female, I don’t even pay much attention to them, how am I to learn to act and talk like one.” Beth smiled, that is something we can also handle. “We offer classes for all our customers to teach them anything they are not comfortable with. The classes are offered after work, so they will not interfere with your job. Most of the instruction is one to one, so you learn fast, and we then reinforce the instruction so that you get in the habit of acting female at all times.”

I took in a large breath, trying to relax some. “I will give it a try, I am not really sure about this and am extremely nervous about this decision.” I received a hug, and then am hustled off to a treatment room to start the process. I am sure Beth could feel my body shaking as she led me to the private room to start my transformation. When we got there I did start crying, all of this too much, too soon, and way outside anything I am even remotely used to. I am hugged and held in her embrace until I calm down a little. I seldom cry, the death of my father the only other time I have shed tears in my life.

She helps me undress, then helps me up onto a table. Before I know what is happening she is spreading a cream over my front side, not missing any areas. Even my male appendage is covered, although the cream had no effect on him. I am sure he is shrunk in fear of what may happen to him. After the cream has been on for twenty minutes, she wipes it off with a damp cloth, removing all of my body hair with it. “If you use the cream again your hair will not regrow after that. A lot of our customers like that aspect of its use, even if they do not dress feminine all the time.”

I am turned over, my back side handled in the same manner. After the last of my body hair is wiped from my body I am again turned over and she approaches my face. “Do you want your beard area treated also, or do you want to shave close every day to perpetuate your change to the fairer sex?”

I didn’t have to think long on that question, I absolutely hated shaving every day. “Please remove every last hair, I so despise shaving I will forever be in your debt if you can arrange that feat.” The cream is applied all over my face, then also my eyebrows. It is left on much longer, almost an hour transpired before she removed the cream and my facial hair.

During that time she worked on my nails, shaping them, removing any cuticles and then adding extensions. She did ask if I could handle the length when I typed. “I think so, it may take me a day or two to adjust but I think I can manage that task.” When she quit applying coats of nail polish my elegant nails had a shiny pink gloss to them and looked so feminine. My fingers were treated under a UV light between each coat of polish, Beth telling me that made the polish more secure, soaking in acetone the only way to remove the polish now.

She obtained my choice of diet drinks, then handed me a robe to wear for a while. My hair is the target next, her shampooing and conditioning the first step in its treatment. After that is handled, she put a towel wrapped around my head and showed me some pictures of me with different hairstyles and colors of hair. I pointed to one that after thinking about it for a minute maybe was the wrong choice. It was so feminine, the color a very light blonde, with tons of ringlet curls. I pointed to it because it looked so attractive, but then after a few minutes thought, I realized I would be the one inside of those curls. I realized it was too late to change my mind, as she was adding a foul smelling mixture to my hair strands.

After the hair color is rinsed thirty minutes later, she puts a multitude of curlers in my hair, I can feel each curler as she rolls up the hair. A dryer is positioned above me, and turned on. I am allowed to sit there while my hair is drying, a respite for a while. I can see my image from a mirror across the room, very little masculinity apparent in the image. When the hair is dry, the dryer is removed and she helps me slip off the robe.

Back on the table, flat on my back, curlers still in my hair, two wobbling masses are placed on my chest and positioned for the best effect. I am genuinely surprised at the weight, never aware of what a female carries around with her. As Beth is marking the placement they wiggle, and jiggle, almost never staying still. In an almost whisper, “Are they going to be like that on my body, can’t I remove them when I am at home, at least?”

Beth is giggling away, “A bra helps considerably, a must with larger cup sizes like these. You do eventually get used to the movement of them, I suggest a bra 24/7 until you become accustomed to them. I will be gluing them on, so you will not be able to remove them when you want. After you get a feel for what it is like to be a female, removing them for a while might be an option for you.”

“Since you are a female in the company’s eyes, it will be necessary to live like one for the near future. I think you might like the life, from what you have told us, you fit more in with the female sex than as a male. Give it a couple of weeks before you decide if this is the life for you, and then we can go from there. The money and promotion offered to you should not be turned down until you see what it is like to be female.”

Your penis is tucked away behind a false vagina, a necessity according to Beth if the authorities check the company for deceit in applying for the funds. Since some records were altered by their personnel department, a real possibility when an audit is performed. The fact that the sex was changed, but nothing else might raise red flags with the governing agency. Beth assured me that only a cursory examination is performed, not an actual strip and show. If the rest of the disguise shows no signs of anything other than a female, they usually stop there. Government agencies can be a stickler when money is involved. A masculine erection a dead giveaway of some possible deceit.

I asked about the other male in the company, Beth just smiled. “There is one employee, works in the executive offices that showed a few signs of masculinity, but after we outfitted her with the new clothes there is no doubt about her gender. However, she will never be as pretty and beautiful as you.” I can’t believe that statement, I had seen the PA several times in the halls in the past few days, he definitely showed very few signs of masculinity, almost pretty even if he is a male.

Laying there on the table, jiggling mounds on my chest, and now a void between my legs. I wanted to feel down there, to make sure Beth hadn’t managed to remove it somehow. Yeah, a very stupid thought, but looking at my groin, I wondered what she did with it. I guess Beth also mind reads, as she takes my hand and places it on my new female slit. “Slip your finger inside the slit, and probe to the back and down some, you can feel a lump and at the end at very erotic area. That is your new clit, the gateway to female ecstasy.” I was moving my finger as she directed and then I hit the spot, my new clit, suddenly I couldn’t get a breath, my body almost convulsing.

It took me quite a while to recover, that single moment will be etched in my mind for quite a while. All of a sudden this crazy disguise might not be such a bad idea. I closed my eyes letting my mind wander as Beth started working on me again. I heard her giggle a little though when I found my point of ecstasy. The sting in my right ear, interrupted my thoughts, but before I could figure out what is going on another sting was felt, presumably I now can wear two earrings in my ear. Then to my astonishment she repeated the process again, but for my other ear. A fact that I am now capable of wearing pierced earrings, a long wanted wish of mine, not.

My hair was removed from the curlers, then brush into a style. It was feminine, but not in excess. I was made to style the hair myself, since I would have to recreate the style every morning. Next came the makeup and the same instruction for doing it myself.

I was taken next door, to get my clothes for the next few weeks, the size of their clothing store taking my breath away. How would any woman be able to make a choice from this kind of selection? Beth coordinated my choices so that from each three items I would have other combinations also that I could wear. Loaded with bags of clothes and the necessary undergarments, in my newly dress code approved style for today I made my way back to the office.

I left my other things in the car, swallowed hard and tried to find the nerve to enter and find my old supervisor. She had been promoted too, I found her in her new office one floor up from where I worked. As I entered her office she acknowledged me, her attitude seeming to have changed. She approved of my new look, then changed the subject to my new job. Due to the cutbacks I would still be doing what I did before, just having the added responsibility of my fellow co-workers added to my job. The one good thing was I now had my own office.

I somehow managed to find my new office, settled in and started on the huge workload that had accumulated while I was changing sex. The longer nails proved to not be a problem, after thirty minutes I was typing without much difficulty. Several of my new responsibilities showed up wanting help on what to do with a problem they had encountered. I spent the next two hours seeing to my new charges, answering questions and giving them guidance in their individual projects. Then back to my work, as I set back down at my desk the pile seemed to have grown, I spent until six that night handling as much of the work as possible, cleaned up and then headed home.

On the way I thought of all that had happened, wondering why I allowed it to be implemented. I never did come to any conclusions, every minute things seemed easier to accept, not as foreign as when they were first done to me. By the time I reached my first destination I had forgot about the breasts on my chest and the long nails on my hands covered with polish. They were there, I could feel them but they no longer caused me any distress. I was female and that is what came with the package.

I didn’t feel like cooking, actually in my case that would be warming up something previously frozen. So I stuck my neck way out and stopped at a neighborhood restaurant to get something to eat. Looking at the menu the steaks looked good, but another look at my clothes, maybe not such a good idea. I settled for a broiled chicken salad, which turned out to be quite good.

I did finally make it home, taking all my new clothes in and finding a spot to hang them Beth had insisted they be hung tonight so that any wrinkles would have a chance to fall out before morning.

I sat in front of my computer at home, looking at a blank screen, my mind wandering off somewhere, thinking of the day’s activities. One day and now I was a female, the changes that were made while not being permanent would require me to live the female role for the near future. I did manage to survive the day, maybe this could be done.

I did like the idea of more money, but remembering the price tags when Beth helped me pick out my clothes, a lot of my new found income would end up being spent on clothes and makeup. I gave up looking at the blank screen, turned off the computer and headed to bed. I undressed hanging up my clothes as instructed earlier. I reached into the last bag, pulling the thin lacy nightie out, handling it like it would bite me if I was not careful.

As it slid down over my shoulders and breasts, a million sensations suddenly sprouted wings causing all kinds of feelings to attack my body. I was tempted to take if off quickly, but it had already made such an impact on me that my body resisted the urge with all of its being. I hugged myself, the sheer material and the lace trim sending thousands of feelings to my overworked mind. I finally laid down in bed, and pulled the sheet over me, trying to keep all the good feelings trapped and unable to escape. I guess I drifted off to sleep, the alarm the next morning waking me from a most restful and pleasant night.

I woke severally disoriented, the nightie rubbing against my body brought all of yesterdays activities back into focus. Then we have the problem of me re-creating what the salon did yesterday. It took me much longer to get ready for work but I managed somehow. The trip into work was a non-event, although I did worry about being stopped by a policeman. I can imagine my possible explanation and the laughs it might create. I did make it only a few minutes late. I had several of my new subordinates waiting for some guidance so that was the first thing I handled. Then I started on my workload, which by the size of the pile had grown exponentially overnight.

I had skipped breakfast, something I never did in the past but the fit of my clothes and how they looked on me made the sacrifice worth it. By lunch I had managed to whittle the pile down to just a few tasks, something I was very proud of. One of the company executives came into my office just before lunchtime, closed my office door and sat down in front of my desk. In my old position I didn’t have an office and no chair in front of my desk. I feared the worse immediately, maybe my good fortune had already run out.

Her name was Delia, and she was COO of the company. She seemed all business, very prim and proper and focused on what she was here for. “It has come to my attention, of a few things that has transpired concerning your employment. None of the things that you have had to experience were meant to be, circumstances and a lack of communication causing most of the trouble. What caught my attention was how you have handled the situation. In the past we have had trouble with the department that you have been assigned to. None of the trouble concerning you, but your work associates. Since you have replaced the former head of the department it has suddenly stopped. I and many others never placed the blame where it belonged, thinking it was just the employees that were the source of the trouble.

Well our eyes are now open and I am proud of your achievements since you have taken over. I have followed your employment here, for quite some time. Since the change you have fulfilled one of my fondest wishes. As I was looking over your personnel file and your past achievements I noticed a few discrepancies. On further investigation I discovered even more. I ended making a call to the salon where you were outfitted with your current clothing and the whole ugly scenario came to light. I was curious since my PA is the other male who was changed to the female sex. A lot of mistakes made by previous management has caused the situation we are in now.

Unfortunately I can’t tell you that a change back to the male sex is possible and stay employed with us, but maybe I can make it a little easier to accept and live with. I have another position available for you, it is related to what you have done in the past, just more involved. It is another salaried position but requires quite a lot of contact outside the company. It is as head buyer, where you will analyze data given to you and decide whether we should handle the product. If the decision is yes you will see to its addition to the inventory and its projected inventory level. You will only report to me, as far as executives are concerned and I expect you to look nice and represent the company to the best of your ability. I am sure a twice weekly appointment at the salon will be necessary and the company will handle any and all expenditures for beauty services and wardrobe.

Now do we have a deal or do I need to try and find someone else. I swallowed hard and started a response several times to find that my voice had suddenly left me. I did manage to get out the word yes, and was pulled into a hug as she came around the desk and pulled me from my chair. Oh one last condition and it is a big one, I need you to go to dinner with me at least twice a week, so some evening gowns and dressier dresses are to be a necessity. She leaned over to my face and carefully pulled me closer to her then kissed me on the lips, I lost track of everything at that point, as my mind melted. The kiss went on and on, till she pulled back and suggested that I leave early today and pick out something nice to wear tonight. One more shorter kiss and she returned to her office leaving me standing there mouth open with a huge smile on my face. Oh, did I mention my lipstick was smeared real good, necessitating a quick repair before I closed up my computer and headed out to shop.

I sat back down in my chair, coherent thoughts were impossible at this point. Then like a regular female I opened my purse and withdrew my compact to check my appearance. I laid it down and called the salon to get an appointment so that I would look my best. I grabbed my purse and headed for the salon. I wonder what style of evening gown to purchase, but knew the experts at the salon would be able to help me. This whole thing of dressing for success was definitely the right way to go. I wonder if it was just an accident that I ended up as a female or if it was planned. Only time will tell, either way I am very thankful.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

 Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

I have no idea who came up with the original idea, but I am positive I would love to get my hands firmly around their neck for just a few minutes. So far, I have managed to escape the longer lasting effects of this crazy idea. My mother doing most of the shopping for me so far, loaded down with bags of goodies after numerous trips to the local malls and boutiques. When she returned I did have to stand there as she held up each piece of clothing to see if it was the appropriate size and added to the desired effect she was striving for. I tried to not look in the mirror, not wanting to see what she had selected for me. My eyes focused straight ahead with my eyes closed most of the time.

After some discussion with family members about an upcoming debutante ball that was scheduled for the near future, several families got together and tried to come up with a plan to discredit the whole debutante ball fiasco. Several of their younger female family members felt it almost mandatory to attend or their social status would be doomed from the get go. Their parents tried to get them to pass on participating but the peer pressure was just too much. In one case, the estimated expenses in being introduced as a debutante was almost thirty thousand dollars, the gown alone being most of the expense. Then you have shoes, makeup, hair styling, jewelry, and lingerie making up the remainder of that total.

The new plan was to have an identical ball on the night before the debutante shindig, this one featuring the male children in their families dressed as young female debutantes, presented to society for their approval and consideration. When I first heard about it, I scoffed at the idea, knowing they would not get enough people interested to pull off such a feat. I for one wanted nothing to do with this, not even wanting to attend as an interested party, much less a participant.

To my surprise the support for the idea mushroomed, and soon there were plans for fifteen male family members to be presented as young debutantes. The parents of these new volunteers willing to fork out the fiances to accomplish that feat, hoping to end the allure of a debutante ball in the future for their younger daughters.

I am sure the word volunteer and willingly were never to be used together in the same sentence ever again. In my instance after being informed of my Mother’s plans, I rejected the idea as absurd. Well a few nights spent away from my computer and video games and I was at least ready to hear the details of my planned involvement. Sure enough it was worse then I feared, not only would I be presented to society, but would have to live the life of a female until the night of the ball. Apparently it was not their idea to have the young volunteers appear as males dressed in gowns, but as young women being introduced to society for their future roles. The idea was to make the males so feminine that it would take away from the female debutantes.

I think their plan had some basic faults, but no one had the nerve to point it out to the mothers. I surmised that the mothers who had no daughters would get to experience having a debutante, a more logical reason for the ball and activities. It just so happens that each of the mothers of a male volunteer had no daughter of debutante age. A coincidence, I think not. So a young male would have to volunteer to fill that vacancy. The original reason for the additional debutante ball now losing some of its credibility.

Over the next few days I heard more about the plan, now including newspaper coverage including pictures of all the young volunteer debutantes. In a way it was sad, since the original female debutante ball lost some of its appeal, now everybody talking about the second ball, the ones where the new young females would be strutting their stuff. A couple of the original debutantes withdrew, not wanting to be upstaged by some males masquerading as debutantes. The truth was far different though for the participants, our mother’s determined to present fifteen young females, as poised and perfect as possible. There would be no masquerading involved here, each volunteer expected to live the life of a female right up to the ball.

The day after I asked for more details of my involvement, I spent three hours in stiletto heels walking around the house, my training apparently had begun in earnest. Some how I missed my verbal agreement to be involved in this stupid idea, but what do you expect from a young male being manipulated by his over bearing Mother.

Other than daily exercise in my new footwear, and a crash diet, that left me starving even after eating any provided meal. Things changed little at first but I knew with what they had planned things will escalate and soon. According to my Mother I had to lose thirty pounds, that to be helped along with daily exercises at her gym starting the first of next week.

After graduating high school I was given a job at my father’s business, a trainee of sorts in their financial planning department. Now I was being excused from those duties, this apparently far more important than learning a career. I can’t really say any of my family were suffering from inadequate financial resources. The house my family lived in was huge, two story and almost three thousand square feet of living space. There were servants quarters in the house, but Mother preferred to hire a maid when necessary instead of having one full time. Of course, I always had the latest model car, never the sportiest but definitely not your usual plain Jane model.

I did plead with my mother when I started to hear how invasive this was going to be, hoping she would derail some of my involvement. I thought it would help, but was soon to learn it was wasted effort, as she notified me she had signed me up for some modeling classes, guaranteed to make any of my movements more feminine and dainty.

So now a modeling class every morning, tights, leotards and heels required, at the ungodly hour of seven A.M. Then on to the gym for an hour long exercise session, then home to shower and change clothes. No lunch, my little breakfast of toast or a bowl of cereal I managed having to suffice until dinner. Then I was set in front of our computer watching tutorials for the rest of the day. I watched them but did not pay as much attention as I should, getting caught a day later when she asked me to do my makeup, as per one of the videos I had watched. Yep, no video games in my future, in fact, anything that I used to be involved in now postponed indefinitely.

I did finally manage my makeup requiring fifteen separate attempts till I had gotten it good enough to pass an initial inspection. My skin was raw, and no matter how much makeup remover I used it seems there was always some left on me, my lips in particular.

I laid there in bed wondering why I was chosen to be involved in this crazy plan, knowing the truth but not willing to acknowledge it. I was far from masculine in appearance, I had the necessary male organs, but according to my mother barely adequate for any females needs. When that thought was voiced to me, my ego suffered terribly, my own mother proclaiming my failure to be able to satisfy any female in the future.

I was shy of six foot tall by six inches, and lacking in any muscle development that a normal male might possess. I never participated in any sports, sweat and me never getting along in any way. I did have some intellect, but seldom used it for my benefit. I did not participate in school other than classes, had few friends and even fewer that I knew their name. In fact I wondered why I was chosen by my prospective girlfriend, her personality and beauty would allow her to pick anyone she wanted, but for some reason I was selected to be her boyfriend. When I asked her why me, the question was always avoided, a trait of hers.

Initially, I just presumed she was playing the field, but when she kept coming back to me for another date I wondered about her sanity. Now with this latest crazy plan maybe I was right about the sanity. A girlfriend helping to turn her boyfriend into a debutante, a pretty one who acts and behaves just like a natural born female, surely there is something wrong in the universe.

Everyday I could see a little more of my masculinity slip away, even my Father looked the other way when I approached. I had overheard several loud arguments presumably about me since I heard my name several times during the discussion. He still talked to me, mainly at dinner, but I could tell he no longer saw me as a male child. The proof of that surfaced a week later when he started calling me by my feminine name, one that Mother had hand picked for me. I didn’t react, but to me from that day forward he was now my Daddy. Maybe not the wisest response, but for some reason he just seemed like a Daddy to me now.

The name Mother had hand picked for me was somehow a perfect name for a debutante. Anastasia, no mistaking the bearer of that name to be anything other than a female. Each day something was added to my regimen for the day, now when talking I had to talk softer and use more inflection in my voice. After a few days I sounded just like some of my female schoolmates. Another step towards Mom’s goal of a female for a daughter.

Then the day came when all of my former life went down the shit tube. I was woken from a restful sleep by my Mom, and handed a dress to slip on. Nothing totally unusual about that, since I was seldom coherent enough when I first woke to know exactly what she had in mind for the day. Led out to her car, with me whining about missing breakfast. She made sure my seat belt was fastened securely then drove off, destination unknown to her daughter. When she pulled up in front of a beauty salon, I suddenly became concerned. This was something new, and unexpected. I looked her way, but all I got was a huge smile, maybe more a smirk than a smile. I was helped out of the car and led into the salon. One of their technicians was waiting for me, grabbed my hand and led me away. I looked back for Mom, seeing her walking out the door of the salon. I was now suddenly alone and feeling very vulnerable.

I was led to one of their treatment rooms and helped out of my dress. Suddenly embarrassed since I was given no underwear this morning, bare assed naked and obviously a male to anyone looking at me. I tried to cover my groin, but the tech just removed my hands and led me to a chair. I was helped into the chair and my feet secured in stirrups extending from the end of the chair. My arms were secured to the arms of the chair while my hands were placed in bowls of water, the slipperiness of the warm liquid causing my fingers to tingle some. My head was leaned back in a head rest and a strap placed over my forehead to keep me from moving it. My mind was panicking big time, fearful of what they were going to do to me. I was utterly helpless and feeling very nervous right now.

The tech leaned in and gently hugged me, then started slathering a cream over the front side of my body. She missed no areas, my male organ thoroughly coated in the whitish cream. Luckily for me my organ stayed flaccid, most likely scared to death of what was to happen to him. The cream stayed on for about thirty minutes, then when she wiped it off my body hair came with the cream. Right away I felt goose pimples pop up, my denuded skin now super sensitive.

She moved the stirrups apart and settled on a chair between my legs. I felt a cool spray land on my genitals, then nothing. She worked down there for quite some time, with my head strapped down I couldn’t raise my head to see what she was doing to me.

When she finished with my groin she moved a machine next to me and glued some cups on my chest. The cups looked like breasts, substantial in size with a pointed nipple at the end. A hose was hooked up to each cup and a pump turned on sucking some of my flab on my chest into the cup. I closed my eyes, a tear exiting my eyes as I realized that I would soon be a proud owner of a set of breasts, a very feminine set to be exact.

I just laid there staring at the ceiling, while little drops of moisture slid down my cheeks. It seemed to be forever before I heard the pump cut off, in actuality over five hours. In the meantime, my nails were worked on, my eyebrows thinned drastically and makeup carefully applied to my face. Then the lady disconnected the hoses from the cups on my chest. As she did that I felt the weight shift around on my chest, not a good sign at all. My hands were released from the arms of the chair and the strap holding my head down was released.

I raised my head to see what had been done to me to see my hands for the first time, each nail extended and now painted a perfect pink in color. As my hands went to my chest my mind focused on the cups, now filled with my tissue and so big. It took my brain a few seconds to assimilate that image then I fainted. There was a nagging feeling left in my thoughts that my previous male genitals now were absent, a slit surrounded by two puffy lips now residing in that spot. But too much to process, so that thought left unattended to

I was turned over and the cream was used again to render my backside hairless too. That temporarily gave me something different to focus on, but alas when the cream was wiped off and I was turned back over, the breasts and the empty groin became the focus again. The first thought that crossed my mine was how I could revert back to a male with these changes happening. I doubted the breasts were possible to be reversed with out major surgery. Maybe a step too far for a debutante coming out gala. Again Mom wanting a daughter a more likely reason for the changes. I wonder if some of the other volunteers were having similar problems.

They worked on my hair, after shampooing and conditioning, it was cut into a feminine style, then set in curlers. I was informed that for the ball I would receive extensions, waist length and my hair dyed a light blonde in color. Makeup was applied, with the techs focused on my eyes and lips. The image reflected in the mirror was definitely female, and obviously debutante worthy.

They worked on the calves of my legs, strapping my legs into a form that held my foot rigid, toe pointing straight down. Then a syringe of liquid was injected into the calf, its purpose to tighten the muscles in the calf. End result would be a requirement to wear heels all the time. While that was processing my nails had extensions added and way too many coats of polish.

Back in a dress after being supplied a bra and pantie, my image definitely a young female. Mom chose that time to show up, her squeal heard throughout the salon. I was taken home, my Father home early from work, anxious to see his new daughter. I was hugged tenderly, then appraised very carefully. I could see disappointment in his eyes, realizing that he no longer has a son, but a daughter. He did focus on my breasts, seeing that the tissue there was real, not a breast form. The son he raised was gone, a daughter now residing in that body. He did inform me that the position at his work would be filled by someone else, he would not tolerate a daughter working for a living.

The debutante ball was now a week away, every day spent fine tuning my actions and movements. I had several dress fittings, my gown for the ball was made to fit me perfectly. A corset was added, since my waist was still several inches too large. The corset manged to take a couple of inches off, a fact that pleased Mom greatly. Another dress fitting to take in the waist of the dress yet again.

The day finally arrived, the ball late in the day, a salon appointment to do my hair first on the agenda. It took them three hours to add the extensions after dying my hair a honey blonde. I received an up do courtesy of a multitude of curlers and lots of setting lotion. Some semi-permanent makeup was applied to my face, eliminating the need for me to have to refresh it during the day and evening. I did realize that my time as a debutante and female was now extended for the foreseeable future.

I was presented to society, the ball drawing a huge crowd. A few words, then a walk around the stage was the extent of my presentation. I did dance with a lot of males, my Father receiving the first and last dance. All of the weeks preparation for thirty minutes in the spotlight.

The ticket sales for the ball were so large that the regular female debutante ball was canceled. Imagine a ball for male debutantes replacing the usual affair. There was even talk about another ball next year for the sons that missed out on this one.

I did remain a female after the ball, the changes to my body almost demanding the gender change. My escort at the ball became my boyfriend. Tall and handsome we seemed to hit it off at the ball. Lots of time spent together, fancy meals and gifts of jewelry, sweets and flowers. To this day we are still dating, I do not know where it will lead, everything still on the table as far as a relationship goes.

Of course, I took advantage of the circumstances, getting several fond wishes fulfilled by my parents. Number one wish was a new car, a glistening white Mustang with pink leather seats. A definite girly car suited for a debutante.

I am happy to be my Mother’s daughter and spoiled rotten right now. A life so special, a debutante’s life.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca