Vanna; Fantasy For Lovers

Vanna; Fantasy For Lovers

Patricia and I had been dating or over a year now, we shared interest in a lot of things, but there was enough things that differentiated us to keep the relationship fresh and exciting. We both loved music, the oldies from the fifties and the sixties our preferences to listen to. We also enjoyed running as a way to unwind, a way to keep trim and toned. We tied these two together with our I Pods blaring as we run a country trail behind our apartments every day.

After three months of sharing our lives together we decided to invest in a residence. It wasn’t an invitation to unlimited sex although we did enjoy the foreplay involved more than the actual act. We did the deed from time to time, but in reality spent many hours mostly kissing, hugging, and cuddling. Of course, certain pieces of our anatomy did receive more than their share of tongue lashing, but what do you expect of two young lovers.

Our present abode came about after an internet search for a residence a few miles out of town with an acre or two for some solitude from nosy neighbors. It turned out to be a bank foreclosure, one that they didn’t think they could get rid of, so the price is way below appraisal. Since both of us come from financially secure families we took the deal. Pat had a ball decorating the new residence and I had contractors make the few changes we wanted done and convert the green grass landscape to a low maintenance natural ecosystem. That is a fancy way to say that there was no more grass to mow and the shrubs and trees were handling themselves, maybe a yearly trim to keep their shape appropriate.

With regards to employment we were both quite lucky. Pat inherited her mother’s business when she retired and I had been able to turn my college part time job into a full-fledged internet company. We did most of our work from home using our high-speed internet connection for access to our businesses.

Pat’s business was selling one of a kind dresses and women’s lingerie over the internet. Her mother had found a considerable number of women who designed and sold clothes, but had no way to market them. She had been working on her site for years and had a large number of followers who at the time just wanted her advice on where to find unique fashions. As she started handling some of these designs her site became quite popular. Their designs and her marketing matched perfectly. Pat’s mother collected the money and the designer shipped the item from their home.

When the funds would come in on a sold item she forwarded the money directly to the designer, minus her fee for selling it. The ladies were ecstatic over the deal, and worked feverishly to come up with new items. It had been decided early on that each design is to be a one of a kind fashion, thus ensuring a better selling price. If two people liked the same design, minor changes were made to keep the customer happy, but also to ensure that she would not find the same thing anywhere else.

My business was a little more basic. For several years now, blogs were all the rage, but as fast as new ones appeared an equal number ceased to exist because no one found them. My job is to make my customer’s blog stand out and be noticed. During the five years that I had been doing this work, I have lost only three customers, all for reasons not associated to their blogs. I didn’t charge an arm and a leg for my services, just wanting a steady income for myself. Now with a little over two hundred customers I had accomplished that and more.

The new house had okay internet service, but for our needs we needed better. I paid to have a line brought to our house that would assure us the best of connections. It was a little expensive, but in the end well worth it. We both had the newest technologies in our computers, courtesy of an old college friend who builds and sells computers.

Since we were both home the majority of the time we shared the household chores equally. I am a nut for schedules so I devised a rotating schedule for all our chores and the computers would advise each morning what our job was for the day. Anything major, we hired a cleaning service to handle the job.

A little bit about us, Patricia is a quite attractive female five foot nine inches tall and about a hundred twenty pounds in weight. I say about, for unless you can catch her on a scale that information is never divulged to anyone. She is very outgoing, always the first one to strike up a conversation even if there is nothing in common with the parties. Her Mother and Father have retired to Florida, her only contact with them is her weekly phone calls from her Mom. Pat is a driven person, attacking any project with such enthusiasm that a successful completion is guaranteed before she even starts.

I am of similar height, but weighed twenty pounds more than she did. I never got to participate much in sports because of being susceptible to any type of illness affecting the lungs or bronchial tubes. I had the condition since childhood when a bad case of the flu almost killed me. It damaged my lungs and now if I don’t closely watch my exposure I get instantly sick.

Among other things that has pretty much limited any access to the outside world. In other words I am destined to live my life inside a house. The one exception is my once a day run, with a specialized breathing mask to make sure that I don’t pick up any contaminants. Since that is my only exercise I am reluctant to stop it too. In our house I use many air purifiers to keep the air safe for me to breathe.

It affected my growth somewhat, I never developed broad shoulders, my arms are thin, and my legs are thinner than that. My face remained soft and without the normal angular features of a male. My voice is in the neutral range, but lacks volume, the best I can do is a loud whisper.

I was given the name of Robert at birth, but Rob became the nickname I became accustomed to until I met Patricia. She liked Robbie over Rob and uses it exclusively. Then one other variation popped up one day when she was pissed at me for something I hadn’t done. That variation is Roberta, at the time I was miffed at her calling me that, but later when calmer tempers prevailed she apologized, it was a name of a college lover that she had experimented with for a while. I apparently acted just like her and thus the use of it in the heat of the argument.

Several days later I tried to approach her on the lesbian tryst, but she told me it was just an experiment and it failed miserably. I did have enough sense to drop the subject since I could see that it bothered her immensely.

Recently in our fascination to explore each other more thoroughly we have taken on the subject of our fantasies. Early on in the discussion we decided to indulge in our partner’s fantasy at least once, then depending on what our thoughts are maybe again. Patricia was eager at the first, but then seemed to withdraw a little, maybe she thought one of her fantasies might weird me out. I admit that the first one that I had enough guts to tell her about was a little mild, maybe almost run of the mill, but I suspected she did the same thing when she told me one of hers.

For the record I wanted her to dress as a cheerleader and treat me like the quarterback of the team, while her fantasy was to have me lick her to an orgasm while playing with her titties. Up to now we had never indulged in me pleasing her with my tongue. Although I savored her titties very much and would often spend hours licking, nibbling and sucking the hard little nubs with my tongue. Typical fodder for this type of sharing, but I am sure a long ways off from our favorite fantasies.

We exchanged fantasies for several weeks, never revealing the larger more important fantasies. We did have fun, although some of these indulgences were outright silly and childish. Finally, I told Patricia enough with the games. We needed to be truthful and cover the fantasies that really meant something to us. Maybe the best way to do that is to spend a week setting up for it, with all preparation done beforehand and then the whole weekend living the fantasy. Since she is the female of the pair she should get to go first, I will patiently await my turn.

I trusted her explicitly that anything that I might need to do to prepare for the fantasy I would be more than willing to do. My love for her is real and knows no limits in its execution. I got the biggest hug and kisses from her, and we spent the evening sharing our love for each other in many ways. I did get to bring her to orgasm several times with my tongue and nipple play.

It was decided that she would take three weeks to plan the week, she apparently had an involved and complicated fantasy, then just tell me where I had to be to get prepared for her long wonderful weekend. That way we could each experience a favorite fantasy every other month. She did tell me in the weeks leading up to her special week that I might regret my involvement before all is said and done.

My only reply is never. There were a lot of hushed phone calls made, whatever she had planned for me is major, the time and planning quite detailed.

She had asked me to make myself available for the whole week since a lot of her fantasy required me to be changed somewhat to conform to her ideal. I told her that I would set the whole week aside for her. I tried to guess what it might be, but nothing came to the forefront. She continued her preparations as she shopped for three days straight. Her selections were hustled into the house and hid away, no chance on my part to gleam what my involvement might be.

She seemed to be extra amorous the week preceding her fantasy. I remember several nights that did not conclude until the early morning hours. Believe me I am not complaining, the memories of those nights will be with me for months. I wondered with the prelude being so erotic, how the actual fantasy will stack up.

The night before the countdown to the big fantasy, she laid in bed with me, cuddling me and telling me over and over how much she loved me. I tried to reassure her that I will comply with her wishes, she needn’t worry about that, all she needed to concern herself with is enjoying her fantasy. For some reason sleep came early that night, a few minutes after ten and I was out like a light. Of course, I wasn’t aware of my early bed time until the next morning, when Patricia told me of my actions.

Breakfast was fruit and orange juice, something I never sampled before, my preference usually sausage and eggs. I made sure that I attempted to yield to all her wishes, as soon as I am aware of them. I knew that this fantasy meant a lot to her, the amount of preparation she put into it a dead giveaway.

She drove me to my appointment, the fact that it is an upscale beauty salon a real surprise for me. She parked in their lot and turned to face me. She told me everything has been arranged, all I have to do is just go along with it. Everything she has picked out for me is temporary, easily reversible and means a lot to her.

She sincerely hopes that I can see my way to submit to her wishes, but if I can’t she will understand. I tried to stop her speech, but she shushed me. “When they get through you will leave the salon as a woman, a quite attractive woman. It will take the majority of the day, and I am sure that several of the treatments will be hard for you to accept. Please just this once try to allow me to experience one of my fondest fantasies.”

She clicked the locks on the cars door and pushed me out, telling me to ask for Francine or Samantha and they will explain what is in store for me. “If it is too much I will just be down the road with a designer and I will come and take you home. When they explain you will see what I have in store for you, a lot for any male to agree too. If you feel that you can’t do it I will understand, my love for you is so great and I want to be with you forever. Now go.”

I staggered to the door of the salon, still trying to figure out what she has just told me. The receptionist asked three times what my name is and if I had an appointment. Finally, the fog cleared enough for me to ask for Francine or Samantha. The receptionist smiled and told me that I was expected, go down the side wall and enter the third door on the right. I headed that way, but had to stop when I came to the first door to get my bearings. I am normally not that scatter brained, but what Patricia said in the car really shook me up. A lady came out of the third door down and introduced herself as Samantha.

“I can tell what Patricia has told you has shaken you up. We both advised her to tell you ahead of time, but she is scared to death that you will not participate in her fantasy. Come in and meet Francine and we will fill in a few of the holes and answer your questions.” She dragged me to the room she had come out of and introduced me to Francine. Both ladies were splendid examples of the female sex. Both tall, possessed long legs and a figure to make any women jealous.

Francine started things off telling me where they had met Patricia. She was a fellow student at college with them and they shared a house their junior and senior year. Patricia has always been a little shy especially with regards to sex, during her senior year she met a female student that was quite interested in her. They had several dates and once Patricia’s guard went down they became a couple. It turned out to be quite serious, with both of them talking about living together or even marriage if they could figure out a way to accomplish the task.

Three months later Patricia’s friend and lover died in a car crash after visiting her parents in Florida. She was so devastated at the loss of her lover, we almost lost her. Severe depression set in, she hardly ate, and she ended up dropping out of school. We managed to get her to stay in the house so we could keep an eye on her, but it was touch and go for several months.

Finally, we had a no nonsense talk with her one weekend and threatened to have her committed if she didn’t straighten out. We had gotten letters from her Mom and Dad giving us guardianship of their daughter. It was two years later that Pat figured that the letters meant nothing since she was already eighteen and an adult as far as the state is concerned. The bluff worked and four months later she was back in mainstream society somewhat.

When she first met you we were told that you reminded her of her Roberta, somewhat in looks but mainly in how you acted. We have made sure she sees you as a different person, not a substitute for her Becca. You have no idea how much this fantasy means to her, a way for her to remember a happier time of her life with a soul mate that she adored even more. She is aware that she is asking for a lot from you, more than any regular male would concede to.

We have talked to her about this in several lengthy discussions making sure she sees this in the appropriate way. We feel confident that she is aware of what she is asking and that the reasons for asking are genuine and real.

Now let me cover what she has asked for you to do. I interrupted at this point, asking of a minute to explain what I wanted. They both exchanged looks, then waited for me to speak. I told them that I love her with all my heart, always have and always will.

“Whatever that can be done to me to make her happy and possible remember some happier times in the process I want done to me. No explanations are necessary, I don’t care how long it will affect my looks, or if it will eventually make me a female, as long as she is happy, that is the route I want.”

“Now shouldn’t we get started, it seems to me that we have a lot to do to make me a gorgeous female and not a lot of time to get it done.” Francine smiled and nodded to Samantha then she grabbed my hand and dragged me to an adjoining room to get started. I am told to strip all of my clothes off and put them in the garbage. I did so willingly, thinking of what Patricia might say tonight as she sees the new feminine me. After getting undressed I looked to the counter where Samantha was getting her things ready and smiled. At the end of the counter was an air purifier just like what I use at home. No wonder I can breathe so easily here.

Samantha did check one more time to make sure I understood that some of these procedures will be with me for several months, I told her the only restriction I have at the moment is that she not cut off my penis, maybe later, but not at this moment. There is giggling present for several minutes before Samantha made quick work of my body hair as she waxed me. A new and exciting adventure, not. The groin is the hardest part to take, the hairs there not wanting to leave their happy homes. If it wasn’t for the rag that Samantha gave me to bite down on, I am sure they could have heard me in the next state.

Since Samantha is having so much fun several more ladies came to join in on the fun. One started on my toenails, apparently from the polish bottle I am to have bright red nails. The taller of the ladies laid a box on my chest and removed two gorgeous tits from the box. I asked Sam how long they could stay on without coming loose. She said about a week or two depending on baths and showers. I had a couple of thoughts enter my mind as I was being waxed, maybe I could extend this fantasy for several weeks and we could go to our mountain cabin.

I asked if there is something a little more permanent that would last longer than a couple of weeks. She said there is but four to six months is the minimum time required before they could be removed, and it would require minor surgery to do so. I asked if I could think about it for a moment, maybe they could do something else for a few minutes. I really wanted this to be special for Patricia, now knowing a little history, I could see how much this would mean to her. I lay there as Samantha worked on my groin, moving my member around to position it where she wanted.

I made up my mind, whether right or wrong I wanted the longer lasting breasts, I figure that would be a key element in my transformation anyway. I told Samantha, she asked me to be sure, I told her I am positive. The other technician made some marks on my chest then swung a machine over the table. It had two cups hanging from tubes that connected to a pump type of arrangement. She lowered the cups, then placed them on my chest sealing around the cups where they contacted with my skin. A fatty looking substance is injected into each cup and the pump is turned on as my skin is slowly pulled into the cups.

When the cups were about a fifth full the pump switched to pulsating, sucking the skin in, then suction off, then sucking it again further into the cup. Meanwhile Samantha had switched boxes, grabbing another one off the shelf. She rearranged my genitals again, then glued the object over my secured penis. The fit is tight, and she adjusts the last part as her fingers are inside my new vagina. I can feel her touch me and as she moves her finger over the tip of my penis I almost came.

I had to work to control my breathing that last touch really spread through my body like a wildfire. The pump continued its work as my body slowly resumed normal levels of operation. My hands were next, soaked in some bluish water, then the cuticles removed. I wasn’t even aware I had cuticles until now. Polish was going on my toenails now, a clear coat then several layers of a deep red polish. The lady working on my hands was picking out extensions for each nail, I presume I will be a high fashion, high maintenance type of female now.

The extensions were glued on, sticking out past my fingertips by three quarters of an inch. I might have to buy that voice to text program now that I had been considering, typing with my new extensions might be a no go. A small price to pay for Patricia’s happiness.

I started thinking of how everything will change for me. I was not against the change, but at some point in time I will have to embrace those changes. I could see the need for a new wardrobe, I doubt if many of my clothes will fit anymore even if I did want to wear them.

I had always envied her clothes, so many different types and materials to choose from, whereas a male is pants and a shirt when not in a suit. Then I realized it will also affect how we are perceived as a couple. No longer male/female, a lesbian couple in the future. We do have quite a few friends, Patricia much more than me. Most of my work is done over the internet, so personal contact is severally limited in my case. When I consider her happiness over a friendship, there is no question which I would choose.

Samantha had finished hiding my last vestige of manhood and approached with a gun in her hand. She made some marks on my ears and soon I was sporting earrings in each ear, a matched pair for each ear. One must be a dangle, since I could feel it tickling my neck. Patricia had a pair like that, a favorite toy of mine to play with ever time she wore them. I imagine I have just supplied a comparable toy for her to play with. I was moved from the table to a salon chair, pumps, hoses and cups intact.

The chair was leaned back, my hair shampooed and conditioned. Chair back up to an upright position and she started cutting my hair. I had worn it longer than most males, I guess a remnant of my limited Hippie days. Once she finished the cut my hair was covered in a paste, roots first, then up to the tips. I imagine Becca was other than a brunette in hair color. A plastic bag to help further along the processing of my new color and she turned her attention to my eyebrows. In short order I had none, her skill at ripping them out and her smile as she did so told me she enjoyed this part of the transformation more than others.

I was asked about makeup, they had a new makeup that was semi-permanent lasting about six weeks. Since I was not trained in applying any makeup she though that might save me quite a bit of time and aggravation. I was all for it, she had already told me that I would need to set my hair in curlers at least every other night for the style Becca used to wear. My solution for that problem was three times a week appointments to have my hair done. I had asked about a permanent but this type of style couldn’t utilize one very well.

The cups were half full now and I began to see a problem, they were going to be huge on my smaller body, I am sure they will stand out in anything I wear. I already have mastered a death stare to use on the males that stare at Patricia’s assets, now I may have just as many staring at my assets. Somehow a death stare from a female might not have the same impact.

She worked on my makeup for a while as my hair was processing. Then when it was done she leaned back the chair and rinsed it out. Another conditioner and then curlers. Lots of them in a multitude of sizes and colors. A hair net after that and under a dryer for a while.

While my hair was drying she brought two funny looking pieces of fiberglass shaped to fit the back of my calves, they had straps along the piece, three to be exact. She attached them to my lower legs angling my foot down like I was standing on my toes. The straps were tightened holding my foot that way. The other leg was done to match then she injected a syringe of liquid right into the calf muscle. I was looking at her strangely, it didn’t hurt but why was she doing it. Then I felt the muscle start to tighten in the calf.

Another look of why was expressed, I was trying to figure what to ask in the verbal way, but she beat me to it. Becca always wore very high heels, now you will to. The lowest heel you will be able to wear is four inches, welcome to womanhood.

I knew I was not looking forward to this part, I sure hope this will make Patricia extremely happy. With the hair finally dry she resumed her makeup application, taking her time to apply the cosmetics to my face. Once applied and twenty minutes later they will be with me for quite some time. She was standing between me and the mirror, so I could only get glimpses of my new look. What I did see was amazing, Robert was now a thing of the past, no way will he be returning to this body.

The timer on the breast machine went off and it quit sucking from my chest. The damage was already done, the cups were full to the top, not a sliver of unfilled space left in the forms. The hoses were detached, I was told the cups/forms would dissolve over the next few days leaving nothing but soft fleshy breast tissue. I received another syringe of something in each nipple right through the hole where the hoses were only minutes ago. If left untouched for six months the breast tissue would become quite normal just like a real female. I gulped to try and clear my throat, it didn’t help. I was now nervous, what if Patricia doesn’t approve of the look, I was facing a very interesting future if she didn’t.

My hair was taken out of the curlers after it was dry, soft spongy tendrils of ash blonde hair were left in their place. She brushed them into the style she had set, then used a liberal coat of hairspray to encourage them to stay put. It capped off the look, Roberta is now the persona at least in looks now. What surprised me the most was how good I looked. As a guy I was average in the looks department, definitely not someone to drool over. However, as a female that was another matter. Patricia was still the looker, but with the right clothes and an up do I just might give her some serious competition.

I do wonder how that will set with her, it might be a fantasy to revisit her female friend and their relationship, but to have that friend to look prettier than her might be a bit much for her. I was getting a little nervous, she would be here soon to pick me up, I sure hope what she sees it acceptable. For sure I will be this way for a while. Maybe me going to the extreme was not the best way to explore the fantasy.

Then I hear a squeal, a female tornado running to me. I am almost knocked down as she had launched herself at me while still five feet away from me. I am hugged and kissed and squeezed till I felt that I might just split open. Every few seconds she would pull back to get another look then attack again, of course, accompanied with another squeal.

I am still naked, not a piece of clothing gracing my body. Samantha approached me with some clothing. I think it was her intention to dress me, but Patricia had no intention of letting anyone put their hand on my body. She snatched the clothing from Samantha, and put it on me. I attempted to slide the panties up my own legs but my hand was batted away. This was her job and no one was intervening, absolutely no one.

Samantha returned with a dress, a simple shirtwaist in pink, of course, with tiny green and lavender flowers sprinkled over the material. Patricia gave me a quizzically look as she helped me into my bra, first at my breasts and then at me with a what have you done look on her face. I tried to avoid her stare, maybe I did go too far. The dress did help cover things up some once it was slid on to my body. The top two buttons were left undone exposing some cleavage, a smile on Patricia’s face at the end result. During my dressing I was touched often with a kiss or hug thrown in for good measure. A pair of heels of the required height were furnished, it actually felt good for my foot to be in them. Prior to the heels I was standing on my toes, my foot not being able to stand flat on the floor anymore.

I was ushered out of the salon, Patricia having at least one hand on me the whole time. I insisted sitting in the back seat of her car, her constant focus on me not good for a driver of a vehicle. She giggled but agreed, bit I still caught her staring in the rear view mirror at me, a sigh erupting from time to time. Somehow we did make it home in one piece, but how that was accomplished is anybody’s guess. Before I could get my seat belt unfastened she was at my door, had it open and swatted my hands, taking over the job of undoing my seat belt. I giggled a little, I have never seen her like this.

As I was being led into the house, my mind had already come to the conclusion that Vanna is here to stay. Vanna is the name we had started calling my female persona. Although she was trying to recreate Rebecca, I didn’t want anything to do with that name. I will try and portray Rebecca for her both in actions and looks, but I am Vanna her female lover and soul mate. Well Vanna had to plead to be able to use the bathroom, Patricia had me already on the bed and partially undressed before I could get all of the words out of my mouth. I was allowed to use it, but with her standing outside the door tapping her foot. Another giggle from me, she is so giddy with excitement, her fantasy coming to life just as she had pictured it in her mind.

Needless to say I managed very little other than some moans and groans as she worked me over, no part of my body escaping her mouth and tongue. I lost count the number of times I had an orgasm, not even realizing I could without junior in the lead. Oh, he was excited, the flow of juices coming from my new slit quite significant.

It was seven the next morning before she wound down, I was pooped to the nth degree, the feelings coming from every part of my body swamping my mind. I was in a daze, happy, satisfied, and glad that I had made her fantasy a success. She did ask me later about all the things that I had done over and in excess of what she wanted. I simply replied anything for my lover, now give me a kiss, I need some beauty sleep if you expect this to continue tonight. She did and I was held tightly in her arms for the rest of the day. A place I was happy to inhabit, nestled in her arms and a few inches from her face. Believe me it was a fateful fantasy, but one that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Just glad I could make her fantasy come true, by doing so making my life complete.

I did live the rest of my life as Vanna, in Patricia’s loving embrace as often as she could manage. Incidentally, we never got around to my fantasy, this one will do nicely for both of us..

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Goldilocks: Sentenced To Be A Sissy

Goldilocks: Sentenced To Be A Sissy

Somehow my wife had talked me into this ridiculous costume for the costume party we were planning to attend. The costume party was a family tradition, one that my family had been participating in for over ten years. In the past I had attended as a pirate, a clown, and one year as a go go girl.

That was a year I so wanted to forget, luckily for me I was not married at the time. The kidding and teasing were awful, seemingly everyone made remarks or comments about my costume and my sexual orientation. No telling what my wife would have thought of my portrayal.

My sister is a beautician, so she was the one who transformed me into the hot go go girl. Of course, she tells the story every year complete with pictures, watching me twist and squirm as she relates the story to anyone who will listen.

I don’t think I have ever done anything to her to cause her to embarrass me in front of everyone. I have pleaded with her, even begged her to let the story be, but all I get is a smirk from her. Then she goes ahead and tells the story to any interested parties.

I don’t know where my wife came up with the idea for this year’s party, but I so wished she had never considered it. Her idea is that we would attend the party as two young sissies. Jennifer, my wife, did talk to Melody, my sister, about the costumes, but arranged for her salon in town to make the changes so we looked like young sissies and supply our dresses for the evening. I was dead set against the idea, but Jennifer had her mind set so there was no avoiding the change to sissy hood. I was extremely pleased that Melody was not going to be involved in the transformation itself, her possible involvement scared the living shit out of me.

From what Jennifer described, it would not be that intrusive, some body hair removed, hair curled and nails done. Then identical sissy dresses suitable for a young sissy, no older than two or three. She had arranged for the dresses to be made, to fit our bodies, the pattern for these dresses available in most any young girl’s boutique. I was shown a picture of the dress, shaking my head at the thought of wearing it. It was way too short with tons of petticoats, that description fitting the dress to a tee.

I still dreaded the day for the appointment at the salon, but Jennifer’s persistence did eventually get me to the salon. We were separated once in the salon, Jennifer taken to one side of the salon and me to the other. In a private room they started on me, my clothes removed so they could see what had to be done.

A cream to remove my body hair, face and eyebrows included was first. I tried to stop her from doing my eyebrows but by the time I was aware of what she intended it was too late.

Then my hair washed and conditioned, then set in curlers. The tech working on my hair kept consulting a card with what was to be done to me. After another look at the card, my hair was sprayed liberally with a liquid, then I was pushed under a dryer. The cream was removed on my way to the dryer, all of my body hair with it.

While the dryer was droning on, my nails were the next item to be handled. The tech consulted the card again, then got up and retrieved some other things to use to do my nails. I did get a funny look from her, like she couldn’t understand why I wanted the changes to my scheduled manicure. It took her quite awhile to get the extensions added now my nails extended past my fingertips by almost an inch. Then several coats of polish were applied and dried. I did wonder about the length of the nails, but figured if Jennifer is getting the same thing I could live with mine this long. It was only for the costume party, so tomorrow a return back to normal.

Once my hair was dry, I was moved to a reclining chair for the next step. It had places for my feet, as she placed each foot in a stirrup, then fastened a strap to hold it there. She placed a blindfold over my eyes, explaining it is better if I don’t peek until she is finished. It took her quite awhile to do what she needed to do, I couldn’t feel anything after she sprayed my groin with a liquid. I felt her touching me lightly, but couldn’t tell what she was doing to me down there.

She also did something with my calves of my leg, a pin prick the only thing I felt as she worked on them. As she released my feet from the stirrups she slid a shoe on my foot, then fastened a strap to hold it securely. I was helped up out of the chair, wavering quite a bit as I tried to get my balance with the shoes that had been put on me.

I still had the blindfold on as she moved me over to another area. I was asked to open my mouth, she needed to spray my throat, to raise my voice into the feminine range. It seemed apparent Jennifer had thought of everything. A quick spray, as it slid down my throat. Then another spray as I felt another bunch of liquid slide down my throat.

Each hand was raised above my head a strap fixed to hold them there. I started to ask what she was doing but I was told to not talk until the spray could do its job. A garment was fastened around me, fitting tightly around my waist. Since I always have had a little pouch there I figured it was indeed a corset or waist cincher. The garment seemed sticky against my skin, maybe it is just something to keep it in place. I know Jennifer has worn a cincher at times, so no big deal.

She then held something to my ear, a sharp jab and I now had a pierced ear. The other ear received the same, to balance the look. I wanted to protest what she had done, but just ignored it figuring it was something Jennifer wanted done to me. To late to do anything about it anyway.

My blindfold was finally removed, my eyes squinting to get used to the light. It took me a few moments to focus, my waist the first thing I noticed in my image in the mirror. The garment she had put on me blended with my skin, a perfect match color wise. It even looked like real skin.

After my arms were released my eyes focused further down, my male organ not visible, just a female sex just like what Jennifer has between her legs. I presume my original equipment is still there since there is no blood visible, although I still had no feeling down there.

Before I could process further thoughts about my new female sex a dress was slid over my head, a huge pile of petticoats attached to a small bodice that ended at my nipples. It extended out from my body at least two feet. The petticoats almost horizontal, not falling down like a normal skirt. It was extremely drafty, the bottom of the petticoats reaching only mid thigh.

Of course, Jennifer arrived at that moment squealing in delight at my appearance. I was hugged, kissed and made to turn around so she could get another look at me.

The tech got our attention, it was time for the last part of our costume. Jennifer did go first, I did smile as she was laid back on a table and diapered. The pins were fastened snugly, the tech noting that the diaper had a soaker pad added so that we could stay in the diapers longer.

I was next, not sure if I wanted the same thing done to me. Before I could figure out what to say I was laid back and encased in the same thing as Jennifer. I did try to say something after the fact, but no sounds came out of my mouth. I tried again but nothing. Jennifer noticed immediately and asked the tech about my voice. She replied that it was a liquid to raise the pitch of my voice, supplied by Melody wanting to help make our disguises perfect for the costume party.

A concerned Jennifer asked if Melody had supplied anything else, the tech looking at the card, then mentioned the waist cincher and the adhesive used for the nails and the female sex. I could hear Jennifer groan from across the room, I meanwhile just leaned back on the table I was diapered on and passed out.

When I became lucid again I noticed Jennifer reading a note that had been handed to her. There was a tear or two sliding down her cheek, I had bad feelings about the contents of the note, but didn’t really want to know what it said.

Jennifer did read the note again, hoping she had misread parts of it.

Jennifer

I am sure you will do well at the costume party tonight. I have supplied a few things to insure your success. No need to thank me that is what a sister does for her brother.

The glue supplied for the nails and female sex lasts for quite a long time, no solvent known to be available at the present time. I always thought of you two as a lesbian couple, now you can investigate to see if I am right.

The setting lotion used on her hair will turn her blonde over the next few hours, and of course insure long lasting curls. Curls and hair color to match her new name.

The waist cincher cost me quite a chunk of money, state of the art bonding to the skin and shed only when the natural skin cells are shed. By that time her waist will be naturally thin and petite. A gift for my new sissy relative.

Her leg calves have been treated to tighten the tendons, requiring her to wear high heels of at least five inches to be able to walk. Her legs looking quite feminine now from the pictures I have seen taken at the salon.

Lipstick, rouge and eye liner are stains taking months to wear off, but the effect well worth the sacrifice. Think of all the time she will save trying to do her own makeup.

Now pertaining to her new name. I have chosen Goldilocks a perfect match for her new hair color and abundant curls. My boyfriend wanted to help out too so he wiped out the old identity of my brother totally, no record of Jay ever existed in any records. In its place is Goldilocks, female at birth and sissy by choice. He even managed to register Goldilocks with the state as a sissy, there new classification for anyone desiring the life permanently. Since Jay never existed their is no marriage between the two of you, an inconvenience but I am sure you can figure out a way to deal with it

Oh, one last thing, while you were at the salon we stopped by your apartment and removed all of Jay’s clothing, since he will have no need of them in the future. We did leave some particular prissy dresses for her and a few pair of heels in her closet. Again just trying to help.

We are headed out west, planning to disappear for awhile, peace and quiet and lots of sex.

With much love Melody

P.S. Have fun at the party.

Jennifer approached me puling me into a tender hug. I was held for quite some time, then she led me from the salon. We did make a quite a sight, two identical sissies in heels and wearing diapers. The diapers were indeed visible under the petticoats. Jennifer never talked about the note, we did attend the costume party, everyone interacting with us. Jennifer explained my lack of a voice as acute laryngitis. A few raised eyebrows at that explanation but the subject was not brought up again. We did win one of the prizes for best costume, a gift certificate for one of the children’s boutiques in town. I am sure someone thought that would be hilarious, but Jennifer just accepted it and we soon left the party.

She was quiet on the ride home, hugging me tightly as we walked up the stairs to the apartment. Once inside she went to the kitchen to retrieve something to drink, we had watched our liquid intake at the party, not really wanting to have to use our diapers. Despite our precautions I ended up using mine right before we left the party. I tried to back away as she pretended to check my diaper to see if I had used it, her instant smirk as she felt its wetness. I was beet red from embarrassment, a grown man wetting his diaper.

She grabbed my hand and led me to our bedroom, taking time to check my closet before she laid me down on the bed. I just stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to do or say, well if I could utter any words that is. She returned with another diaper, quickly getting my wet one off and replacing it with a disposable one. The tabs were fastened snugly and I was helped up. I did get a glance at my now empty closet, a few dresses the only thing hanging on the rack. I thought that may have been part of the note that Jennifer had read at the salon, fearing lots more revelations to accompany that one.

Back to the living room, Jennifer taking a big swig of her drink before she started talking to me. Melody did have a lot to do with your transformation to a sissy, to spare you the details you will remain my sissy, for me to take care of and love. Your name is now Goldilocks, the male Jay no longer exists. You will be a stay at home sissy, only going out with me from time to time. Dressing as a sissy all the time and acting like one too. I don’t think you will ever be able to talk again, the spray used on your throat damaging your vocal cords. Maybe you can write your thoughts on a pad so that we can still communicate. I held up my hands, the long nails most likely to make that impossible. More hugs, as she cuddled me close to her body.

For now lets leave the explanation there, maybe later we can talk about it more. Another hug and kiss, then we can look at the new clothes in your closet. I will always love you and take care of you as you live out your sentence as a sissy. She pulled me into such a hug, squeezing the daylights out of me, the hug seeming to last an eternity. It felt so good, maybe Goldilocks can cope with this somehow, her sentence to become a sissy forever more.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Monique: New Hair Style Then A Female Life

 Monique: New Hair Style Then A Female Life

Joanne and I had been friends for over seven years now, also, my hair stylist for all of those years. I have forgotten what the salon was called when I first met her, it being just a small shop squeezed in among other shops in a not prime time shopping center. I was fresh from college, not having much money, so I was just interested in a cheap haircut to go job hunting. No appointment, I just walked in and she was the only one not busy.

Even though I just wanted a haircut, she shampooed my hair and put a conditioner on it. At the time, I thought she was just doing things so she could charge more for the haircut. She talked me out of a short haircut, her version did look good and my hair was neat and clean. I was surprised when she only charged me eight dollars, right then I decided to use her again in the future.

I got the job I was trying for, and as my economic condition improved I was tempted to change where I had my hair cut. In the end, I always came back, we became friends, and have been ever since.

Over the years, I used her for anything related to my hair. The salon changed hands several times, each time Joanne stayed with the new owners; her standing in the salon improved. Then the newest owner bought the salon, moved it to a new location, enlarging it tenfold. Joanne was now the manager of the salon, still handling customers, but only selected ones.

When I first started with her, my appointments were usually six weeks apart. Then once a month and recently every two weeks. She never cuts much off my hair, usually just split ends, but she always applied a multitude of conditioners and hair treatments every time I saw her. My hair was now down to the middle of my back, but I wore it in a low ponytail for my job. A ponytail that is often tucked inside my shirt or sweater. As my hair got longer my position in the company improved, hence I was able to evade any dress code with regards to hair length.

Joanne had a wicked streak in her, after shampooing and conditioning my hair she would always take time and play with it, styling it up in some ultra-feminine style, while watching me squirm and try to get comfortable in her styling chair. The first time she did it I was in panic mode big time, figuring this is how I would have to leave the salon. When she returned my original style I let out such a sigh of relief. I got a hug when I left, thanking me for letting her play in my hair, hair that would be the envy of every single female.

On my second visit after the feminine style I entered the salon cautiously, looking around for Joanne. She snuck up behind me scaring the poop out of me. Another style this one different from last time. Ever since then a different style, each time I watched in fascination as she turned my longish locks into a delight of femininity. I learned to relax over the years, my three hours spent with her so wonderful, seeing a side of myself that few males ever get a peek at.

Recently I have experienced some good fortune, one of my longtime customers wanted me to quit and join her organization. Ms. Sanderson offered me a lot more than I was making now, my own work schedule, and numerous other incentives. She was into a lot of things having quite a bit of property, some investments, and a fairly large stock portfolio. All Mindy wanted me to do was oversee the holdings, making sure she didn’t lose any money through neglect. I could work from home, or an office, my choice.

If I had any ideas for investments, or property she would entertain hearing them. We got along all right, she was friendly, and straight talking. If she didn’t like something, she would not hesitate to tell you so. I accepted her offer, I was now my own boss. It was a little awkward at first, neither of us knew what to say to the other about rules or limits. Mindy quickly handled that letting me know exactly what she expected from me, anything else is strictly up to me.

I found several things right away, saving her quite a bit in brokerage fees and commissions. Then by paying the property taxes early another huge savings. Two of her banks were ripping her off on account fees, I found her several banks that were glad to welcome her, their fees reasonable and fair. She was very happy at the results that I produced so quickly. Over the next few weeks we established a good working relationship, with me able to anticipate her desires and handling them before she could bring them up in conversation.

Several visits later to Joanne I was asked to come back to her office. This was after she had handled my mop as she called it. Joanne had tea made, so I presumed she wanted a big favor. We chit chatted a little while, then she asked if I would consider being her model in an upcoming cosmetologist’s convention. It was a regional convention having both vendors and competitions for the cosmetologists. Since they expected nearly five thousand attendees, it was quite a big deal.

I asked her some questions, thinking that most models would be female. Indeed, most of the models were female, but not with as nice of hair as mine. She wanted to enter the unlimited competition, long hair division, where any contestant and their model could be asked to do a multitude of things. Since very few models used at the convention had such long lustrous hair, she felt it would give her quite an advantage. Since my hair is so utterly perfect, in her opinion, working with my hair she was sure to win any competition.

She would receive prize money and a trophy, but she was more interested in the bragging rights associated with the contest winner. She would pay me whatever I wanted, if I would be so nice to allow her to work on my hair.

I didn’t see any reason to decline, so I told her I would be glad to allow her to make me glamorous. She did warn me that I might end up with a different color, a permanent, or highlights, but she could reverse all of that after the convention. I trusted her, so that was not a concern of mine. Since she has been taking care of my hair for years, there is no reason for her to do otherwise now. I smiled she will get to do her feminine style on me for real, not having to wash it out afterwards.

She advised me of the date, all I had to do was show up at the convention with the badge she handed me. I smiled she had already registered and obtained badges, figuring that I would help her. The date was a week away, so I had plenty of time to arrange a day off. I knew I didn’t need to with me handling my own schedule, but I wanted no trouble with my new boss. When I approached Mindy, she was eager to allow me the time off, but wanted Joanne to get her a ticket so she could watch me get beautified. That surprised me, but I assured her I would get her a ticket. I learned on that day that Mindy also used Joanne for her hair styling, just had not been a customer of hers as long as I had.

The time went by fast, in the meantime, I told Mindy of a developer that was interested in a couple of her properties, something I learned when he filed plans for a hotel complex. Most developers waited until they had an option on all the properties before announcing anything, this one not that smart. She referred him to me, so I handled the negotiations. He was already committed, so I knew I could get my price. He was not happy about the price he paid, but I am sure he will just pass it on to the customer down the line. Mindy received seventy thousand dollars more than the properties were valued at.

Two days later it was time for me to make my way to the convention hall, with my badge I had no trouble getting in. It took me a while to find Joanne, she was already set-up and waiting for me to appear. She explained how the competition worked, each cosmetologist pulling tasks from four glass containers. Each container represented different tasks that a hair stylist would perform on customers. Those tasks were what they had to perform to be able to be judged.

Of the twenty contestants in this division usually less than half of the contestants managed to complete all of the tasks satisfactorily. While we were waiting I looked at the other contestants and their models. Most of the models were female, with good looking long luxurious hair. The cosmetologists were mostly younger than Joanne, some in their early twenties. Several were male, although most likely of the LGBT group, judging from their clothes and behavior.

The contestants were called over, made their selections and got started on their tasks. Joanne smiled as she headed back, apparently her selections were what she had hoped for. I was leaned back, my hair washed and conditioned, then some hair treatments added, this is something Joanne regularly did, so that any chemical processing would not damage the hair. A permanent would be first, she sectioned my hair, winding the long hair on several large rollers. The foul smelling liquid was used to saturate every curler, my nose wrinkled often as I got a whiff of the permanent solution. Warm air was provided by the dryer to aid in the permanent doing its thing. Then after that had processed a neutralizer was applied to set the permanent.

After she washed out the neutralizer another conditioner was added then she started on applying highlights to my hair. She used small strands and way too many pieces of foil. I had over the years observed other females getting highlights, their strands of hair more clumpy than what Joanne was doing to my hair. She applied a strawberry colored dye to the foiled pieces of hair, I realized I would be quite different looking with these two procedures, with two more coming yet.

I looked around as Joanne worked on me seeing Mindy in the second row of the seating ahead of me. I was so wrapped up in what was happening I hadn’t seen her before. I got a big smile from her, as she was watching everything that Joanne did to me intensely.

After the last highlight was added, a dryer was placed over my head and warm air started flowing over my processed locks. I closed my eyes, wondering what else might get done to me today, since my imagination has never been that good, nothing came to mind. I already had realized that a feminine hairdo would be the end result, just not sure how detailed or intricate. Since I had spent so much time in the salon as Joanne handled my hair for years, I should have picked up on some of the other things females did to look beautiful, but apparently none of it made any lasting impression. Oh Joanne had done things to my hair, I was so entranced in what it looked like I never followed the steps she used to get there. Of course, nothing like hair coloring, permanents or highlights were performed since at the end of her play period she had to return me to my masculine image.

The highlights dye was washed out, then she started cutting in the style that she had pulled out of the selection jar. Luckily not much was taken off, I figured that would be the case since this part of the competition was for long hair. I did get some longish bangs that might make my return to a masculine ponytail a little difficult. There are not many males that have bangs long or short. Add in the now permanent curly locks and I doubt any ponytail would result in anything masculine.

Next my hair was set in curlers, small longish curlers running perpendicular to the side of my head. At the salon, on previous appointments, I noticed that the curlers were placed parallel to the side of the head, this style must require something different. The amount she placed in my hair was surprising, over a hundred at my last count. Another stint under the dryer, this time the heat almost hot.

Every once in a while I would look at Mindy, her smile getting bigger every time I looked at her. I think she just enjoyed seeing me get feminized. Joanne checked my head often to see if it was dry enough. The other contestants that I could see were not as far along as Joanne, her experience and skill coming to the forefront.

Out of the dryer and my hair released from the curlers. The hair popped right back into the tight curl, even though the curler had been removed. The hair was brushed lightly as she got the curl to release some. She then started pinning the curls in place, keeping the sides right above my ears smooth, than at the top of my head long dangly curls spilling in all directions. The bangs were curly tendrils, laying across my forehead.

She moved to the back of my head, the curls there brushed more so that the curl relaxed more, leaving the curly tendrils laying on my lower neck and shoulders. Then she picked up a bundle of thin silk ribbons in burgundy and shades of pink. She attached a couple to each curly tendril the ribbons coming down to the middle of my back. It took her a while to get them as she wanted, I released a great big sigh, knowing that to get this back to my normal hairstyle would take lots of time, certainly not something to be done in a day or two. The finished style was fantastic, very feminine, a fact not lost on me.

One of the judges approached Joanne whispering to her, then Joanne squealed in delight. She leaned over to my ear asking if she could slide a blouse on me, they wanted to take pictures of the hairstyle. I agreed, her dragging me back to a dressing room, where she helped me to get the shirt I was wearing off. The blouse buttoned up the front, a scoop neckline in the front with a low plunging neckline in the back showing off the tendrils of curly highlighted hair against my bare skin. I was never cursed with body hair, maybe ten to fifteen hairs on my chest and a light fuzz on my lower legs. In this instance, a great benefit, since a feminine model with gorgeous hair and body hair not a desired combination.

I was taken back to her styling chair, the next twenty minutes of flash bulbs going off a real surprise. As I had set back down she had added some lip gloss on my lips, telling me that I looked absolutely beautiful. I glanced at Mindy, her standing applauding at Joanne’s accomplishment. I did get a wink from her, that smile of hers even more noticeable.

I did hear Joanne tell one of the reporters that my name was Monique, but didn’t want my last name used in any stories about the contest. Finally everyone got all the pictures they wanted, the judges coming around to evaluate each contestant. Only seven stylists were able to complete the tasks in the allotted time. It seemed the judges spent extra time with me, I know I felt self-conscious as they stared at my locks and touched the hair style. Since every judge felt my hair, I knew that Joanne’s commitment to proper conditioning was a big plus for her.

They did leave to concur on the winner, Joanne busy being congratulated and Mindy landing in my lap. She touched the hair in several places fascinated with the feminine look. I was told that I would be dining with her, no excuses. Joanne breaking loose from her fellow stylists, kissing me on the lips for helping her. With Mindy on my lap and Joanne’s passionate kiss I was suddenly confused and lost. Mindy and Joanne conferred on who was taking me out, Joanne settling for a late lunch with Mindy getting the dinner slot.

I felt wanted as the two hugged, kissed and otherwise manipulated me into a bundle of goo. I was led to a stage on the other side of the convention center, lots of females complimenting me on my hairdo. We got there just in time as the winners were announced. They started with the other categories, the long hair group at the very last. It seemed the long hair winner was considered the overall winner due to the skill required to do the more complicated hairstyles.

The winner was announced, Joanne hugging me to death pretty much conveying her thoughts on the matter. I was handed the trophy as she was handed the check. We posed for another round of pictures, this time I squinted some to keep the flashes from blinding me. It did eventually return to normal, everybody going about their business. The convention had a huge vendor area, I was dragged along behind Joanne as she took in all of the booths. The compliments never stopped coming, both stylists and vendors infatuated with my hairstyle. Mindy finally tracked me down, attaching herself to my other arm.

Then, we came to the booth for Joanne’s salon. The trophy was already mounted on the back wall, with a spotlight on it right next to a picture of me. How they could have gotten this all together so fast was amazing. I was hugged, receiving numerous kisses on the cheek from all of her fellow stylists. I lost Joanne for a minute, Mindy keeping me occupied in the meantime.

I never have seen this side of Mindy, her show of affection to me, her hanging on me and my every movement. I have always liked her from afar but figured she was out of my league, so no advances on my part. When she hired me, I was thrilled, but again figured she just wanted my advice and help, not anything more. Now that she was close to me I knew it was likely more than just a business relationship.

Maybe it was love, I know that dreaded four letter word that strikes fear and longing in all sorts of individuals. Joanne showed back up, grabbed a hold of my hand and dragged me off to the back of the booth. Into a small dressing room, pulling the curtain closed behind her. I was stripped of my clothes, then a pair of panties was slid up my leg. Several times I tried to slow things down, but with all the attention and things happening so fast I was in over my head. My thingy was pushed back between my legs and the panties pulled up tight to my groin. A bra is wrapped around my chest, the extra flab on my chest pulled up sharply to remain in the cups of the bra.

The blouse again slipped over my body, then a skirt pulled up my legs. I tried to resist the skirt, this is too much, too fast. My hand was swatted, the skirt zipped up in the back and my blouse tugged down into the skirt. As I was trying to see my image in the mirror some lipstick and mascara was added to my face, my male persona now totally gone. Pushed out of the dressing room, my red blush spreading quickly all over my body. I just stood there looking around to see who might be staring at me, fearing ridicule and teasing.

A distinguished lady standing nearby came over giving me a tender hug and cheek kiss. “You are very pretty, everybody jealous of your feminine looks, not making fun of you. I am proud of Joanne’s work, but more proud of your willingness to help her. I think she might have discovered a side of you that has been long hidden behind that male façade that you carry with you. It might be advantageous for you to explore that part of you, no telling what treasures you might unearth. If you need to talk to someone on your journey, I am always available either in person or by phone.” Now give me a hug and let’s find Joanne and congratulate her on her award.

I was later to learn that the lady was Francine, owner of the salons and Joanne’s boss. When Mindy managed to find me again, I was attacked from a far. Once she recognized me, she was airborne landing in my arms, almost knocking the breath out of me. This time, I was kissed, my first time being kissed while wearing lipstick, a most memorable experience indeed. It is definitely something I would like to try again.

We did leave the convention shortly after two, Mindy promising to pick me up at my apartment around eight, wanting me to dress formal. Her and Joanne exchanged glances, whatever that meant. Joanne took me to a fancier restaurant downtown not far from the convention complex. The prices were steep, but the food was so good. I had skipped breakfast this morning, my stomach doing flip flops when I woke up. So food, in general, was on my list, this food made the meal a real treat. She talked about what she did from her standpoint, thanking me several times for agreeing to help her. She did confess that it might be more than a few days before she could reverse things, since the permanent and highlights are quite intrusive on hair.

Since I worked for Mindy I didn’t see a problem other than I had no idea how to maintain the style. Joanne told me to come by the salon every morning and she would teach me until I could handle the style myself. From Mindy’s reaction today I doubt she would have any problem with me in the female mode. From the restaurant, she drove me to the salon, then we walked through to the clothing section. Right to the formal gowns, as she breezed through the racks looking for a special dress.

Apparently she found it, pulled it from the rack then took the dress and me back to her office. I was laid on the couch after removing most of my clothes. A pair of panties the only piece remaining. She glued on some breast forms, quite good sized ones and then a garter belt and stockings were added. The dress was slid over my head, then zipped up the back. Joanne told me to come back tomorrow and they could do a proper job on my female attachments, time today not allowing those procedures. I gave her a funny look, why would I want to have breasts and no telling what else added in a proper manner? Old makeup off, a new application this time in evening mode was added. The she straightened my hair and I was taken home. I might add in a daze, all of this too much to get a grasp on.

Joanne dropped me off in front of my home. I didn’t have my car, I think it is still at the convention center but no longer sure about that. I had just got my door unlocked and Mindy shows up. I was appraised carefully then like a rocket I was pushed into my living room and onto the couch. I screamed about her messing up my hair and we both broke out in a giggling fit. I did get groped, then several kisses the lipstick marks clearly visible on my cheeks. So now I had to repair my makeup, a simple repair for a female not so easy for a former male. I managed to get up, her bitching as I tried to retreat from her. I was able, at least, to lessen the smudges from her attack on my lips.

I made sure I had my keys, then we headed to her car. Mindy steered me to it, not sure if I could find it by myself. The door was held for me, she even helped with my seat belt. Each interaction had a grope to go with it. I decided she possessed a one track mind and it was focused on me at the moment.

She drove us to a supper club on the outskirts of town, one of the only places more expensive than where Joanne took me for lunch. She had reservations apparently, since we were seated in a private dining room on the second floor of the establishment. The service was outstanding, Mindy doing all the ordering of drinks and food. I felt treasured as she handled my every wish that night. I even got to dance with her, although she did the leading. It was a magical evening for me.

Returned to my abode, but with kisses, hugs and of course a grope or two for good measure. This is definitely a side of Mindy I have not seen before. I felt cared for, treasured maybe the better term.

I laid in bed that night after removing what I could of my feminine looks savoring what happened today. Surprisingly I managed the time after the convention fairly well, I think most of it was that I was in shock, not knowing what to think or do about any of it. As the evening progressed I began to relax, enjoying the role of a pretty female. Of course, Mindy’s attention to me did nothing but enhance the feminine experience.

The next morning, I got with Joanne about reversing my treatments, she suggested that I come into the salon to talk it over. I knew then that I would be in the female mode for quite some time. I will at least, make her sweat in telling me, I do have to have some fun occasionally. I taxied to the salon, just my limited exposure to people so far making me feel that I am constantly on display. Something to get used to, I guess. So different to that of a normal male.

I made my way back to her office, knocked and then entered. She pointed me to a chair, her look clearly showing some distress. I patiently waited for her to start, this ought to be interesting.

She finally made a start, mentioning that a couple of things she had to do my hair yesterday might take a little longer to relax enough to be reversed. I tried to look crestfallen, I even managed a tear or two. That even surprised me, the tears that is. After she had staggered through her explanation, I asked what I should do.

It was quiet in the office, I could hear the phones ringing up front easily. Even the noise from the hair dryers could not block it out. She swallowed hard several times, finally I told her to just spit it out. Another silent spell then she spoke, “Go all the way and live as a female for the next six months, after that I can get you back to a male in appearance, that is, if you want to return to that gender. I stared at her, she was the first to break eye contact, causing me to giggle a little.

“Okay, that is fine with me.” Her head popped up, her arms came up to her desk top and she cocked her head as if she didn’t hear me very well.

“What did you say?”

“Okay. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

Again the groping as Joanne tried to show me how thankful she was for my help and understanding in this episode. I moaned and groaned a little, like I was still upset, but actually I was not dreading the next six months. Not enthusiastic, but maybe curious about life as a female. If Mindy keeps treating me this way, it should be an interesting and rewarding time.

Out to her station in the salon and my first lessons in care and maintenance of my hairdo and makeup. It was almost five hours later when I managed to head home. Joanne had sent two of her stylists to the convention center to retrieve my car for me, something I much appreciated. Although I was getting around fairly easily in my female persona, I was still a little leery of being out and about dressed and looking so feminine.

Once back home I got started on my job duties, wanting to make sure I did not disappoint Mindy. Most of it was just checking on things, I had made most of the significant changes when I first took over her accounts. I did stumble across an investment opportunity for her, one that one of my former employers had something to do with it. I checked it out thoroughly, not wanting to recommend something only to have it collapse on me. I made a call to her, she listened then told me she would be at my home in thirty minutes. I didn’t know if she was that interested, or just was looking for an excuse to be with me. I think the latter was a more likely conclusion.

I made my way to the bathroom, to check my appearance, now something I would need to do for quite some time. Joanne had made that fact very plain, a female needs to be aware of her looks at all times, then touching up things when needed. I had barely got back to the living room when Mindy knocked. I answered the door, but thought that maybe I should get her a key, since we were now at least BFF’s, maybe more.

I don’t know why I bothered to check my lipstick in the bathroom, one minute with Mindy and it was an utter disaster. She asked if I ate, offering me another dinner out, this time a basic dinner, no dressing up necessary. I agreed and then we both went to my bathroom to fix our faces. The way that Joanne had fixed my hair it needed very little repair, in the morning after getting out of bed would be the only time I would need to do much. I was escorted to Mindy’s car for the ride to the restaurant, an upscale eatery but not requiring reservations and very affordable. I had eaten there a time or two, but the food seemed so much better this time. I wondered if tasting it with lipstick made such a difference. Whatever the reason I did enjoy my meal that evening.

Mindy talked all through the meal, her ideas on what should change and our relationship. I nodded my head in the appropriate places, received little kisses along the way to make sure I was kept happy and contended. I suggested she move in with me, my house larger and newer. If she did she could rent out her place, adding some more income to her portfolio as if she needed that. She seemed cautious but eventually did nod her head in the affirmative.

I asked her what was her concern about moving in with me, I thought you had some feelings for me, the way you have acted recently kind of pointing to that fact. She muttered a couple of words, so I made her repeat it this time loud enough for both of us to hear what she was saying.

“I am afraid you might go back to the masculine you, I like both facets of you, but am in love with the feminine part. If I move in with you and you go back to being male I am not sure I can handle it. So maybe not moving in with you might be the better approach.”

I reached over and pulled her closer, if that is all you are worried about we can handle that easily. “You can pack up all my male clothes and give them to charity and I will get Joanne to give me some real boobs, problem solved. If junior is also a concern I am sure Joanne can handle that to. I have loved you from the first day we met, but figured I was not even in your league. That is why I kept it business only on my part. I do expect to be cared for like a female, a few gifts, dinner out and some loving from time to time. If you can handle that I am yours, as a female until the end of time.”

I was attacked then, an unprovoked attack on my body, it seemed like hours before the attack eased up. Lots of giggling accompanied the attack. After I regain the ability to think I will tell you all about it, maybe sometime late tomorrow. Parts of my mind are still smoldering from the heat and passion.

We did eventually discuss the investment opportunity, she gave her approval quickly. I was to handle making the investment, just keep her appraised on the progress from time to time.

She did move in with me, my male clothes quickly done away with. Believe me every stitch of anything that resembled what a male might wear was given away or burned. Joanne gave me boobs, it took her all day, but the huge smile she had plastered on her face all day told me how much she was enjoying the task. It was her personally that attached the cups and hoses and switched on the machine, something this important to her not to be handled by some employee. Since they would now be a permanent resident on my chest, she took a lot of pride in how they turned out. The only person happier than Joanne was Mindy, her inspection of Joanne’s work took all night. In fact I missed my next day’s hair appointment, the first time I have missed an appointment with Joanne since she started doing my hair seven years ago.

When I called in to tell her I could not make it, she giggled. “Rough night huh, I will pencil you in for five tomorrow afternoon, that will give you some time to rest.” She was still giggling as she hung up the phone. I am sure glad the females in my life are enjoying all of this. Apparently good entertainment is not easy to come by these days.

Junior did get glued away, out of sight, but still available in case a donation was needed later in life. I stayed at home taking care of our house, a larger house that I got a good deal on. Large enough for a family eventually, but small enough to be cozy and comfortable. Joanne got promoted again, a bigger salon on the other side of town, but still a manager at the smaller salon too. She does not do any beauty services on anyone but me. We are a fixture at any conventions and competitions in the area, Joanne winning every one of them. Of course I am her model, my hair now down to my upper thigh and kept blonde now, Mindy’s preferred hair color for me.

I often think back to the first competition, when my new hair style brought along with it my new gender. A most wonderful time in my life. Who would have thought such a change possible? A change that I endorse over and over, the day my gender became female.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Lee; Life In A Female Led Society

Lee; Life In A Female Led Society

My first interview out of college and I was nervous for several reasons. There had been a lot of changes recently in the business world, affecting their employees and how they were perceived. The changes were not limited to the business world, but were more apparent there then in the general population.

The business I was interviewing with was one of those companies supporting the changes, while already embracing them within their own company. A lot of the changes were immediately challenged in court, but a court involved resolution was probably years off. If the company was interested in me, those changes would affect me immediately and for as long as I was employed there.

I was with the head of their human resource department for over two hours, every thing about me and my education talked about at one time or the other. My family life, college friends, interests outside of college and many more topics were examined in detail. With regards to my college friends they wanted phone numbers or addresses to check the validity of my statements. I had mentioned my interest in volunteer work, then had to furnish where I had done the volunteering and who my supervisor there was.

By the end of the interview I was sweaty and mentally drained. I was told they would get in touch with me the following morning and if I was deemed acceptable I would need to come back in before lunch to fill out my paperwork. Beside being mentally drained I was in a daze, not sure if I would be accepted and not sure if I really wanted to work for them as they seemed to be quite demanding and strict.

Like most other college graduates, we were faced with a small number of companies that were hiring, and even less that were thought to be reputable and able to survive in this chaotic world. Of four possible companies to work for I had only received one offer of an interview. The other three let it be known they were not hiring in the foreseeable future. Another indication of a troubled economy. If I left my career choice the prospects of anything resembling employment were nil, most businesses were either laying off people or in a hiring freeze till things turn around if they do, a big if in these troubled times.

Looking back most would have seen the evolution of what we have experienced as impossible. It was several years ago when an election in one of the western states signaled a change in the air. An upstart female running against an incumbent senator started to gain some national attention. He was the typical politician, promise anything to get elected and then deliver nothing. She was a state legislator representing a district that encompassed the state’s biggest city. Her record stood for itself introducing over a hundred and fifty bills during her two year term as a state senator. Very few got passed, but her direct appeal to the state’s voters about her fellow legislators did make all kinds of news. She called them out, for backing their special interest supporters and ignoring what their constituents wanted. There were several other female legislators that joined her in her effort, but the good ole boys were in control at the time and they knew it.

She decided to take it national, getting signatures so she could run for the U.S. senate. Her critics underestimated her, dismissed her as irrational and obviously a female, one that needed to be ignored. When she brought her signed petitions to the Secretary of State to be registered as a candidate there were several raised eyebrows. She only needed fifty thousand signatures to qualify, but she presented petitions with over a hundred and twenty thousand signatures to the Secretary of State. There was no press coverage, at the time, most everybody writing her off as a militant female that will never amount to anything. The press had already covered the submission of the incumbents qualifying petitions for the election yesterday, his seventy thousand signatures thought more than enough to get approval and re-election once the voting was held in November.

When the press caught on to what was happening and questions started being asked the incumbent senator, the no comment answer was used quite extensively. In an attempt to disqualify the challenger they challenged her petitions, only to have the lady submit another twenty thousand signatures to the inquiring officials. That was done one day before the time limit expired. The challenging candidate then questioned the senator’s signatures presenting evidence that a lot of the signatures on his petitions were not valid, no such address or no one living at the furnished address.

Her petitions were checked thoroughly, not one signature proved to be invalid, much to the senator’s dismay. His petitions were a different matter, after all the dust had settled he did qualify but only one hundred and fifteen signatures more than he needed. That amounted to almost twenty thousand signatures that proved to be fake. Quite a stain on his claims of truthfulness and honesty.

At the challenger’s campaign quarters there was cheers and celebration, it had worked out just as they planned, they did have enough signature challenges to disqualify him, but they shelved those wanting a campaign against him, part of a larger plan for during the campaign. The press meanwhile were playing this all up, very good for newspaper sales and TV ratings. Almost everyday a new facet of the story was explored front page or as a leading news story for the evening news.

Then the allegations about the senator’s voting record and his relationship with the special interest groups started coming to light. Copies of deposit tickets showing checks from a lot of groups he claimed to know nothing about. His signature on the back of the check proving otherwise. The fact that he even deposited the checks into his account proved that he thought he was above the intellect of his constituents. Then we have tapes of conversations with a lot of people known to be soliciting support for certain legislation showing up, and the resulting vote records when that legislation came before the legislature. The result of the first few polls told everyone that his re-election campaign was in serious trouble. They started running lot of ads, trying to discredit his opponent, all paid for by the special interest groups.

The lady candidate is a daughter of a regent for the largest university in the state. Her mother, the regent, holds several degrees in various subjects from a number of colleges and university's around the world. The candidates father died in one of the Arab conflicts in the middle east, the conflicts she is adamantly against in any way or form. The daughter’s name is Hillary Walker, and is currently the CEO of a worldwide charity organization that aids needy children all around the world. They tend to focus on children left to their mother after the father leaves when told he is the father of the child. They help with paternity tests, and legal fees for the mother to get some support for herself and her child. Each case is well researched as to its validity and that the facts disclosed are true and provable. They do not take the word of the mother as unimpeachable. Their help does not have to be paid back, and a careful followup is performed every three months to make sure the mother and child are still doing okay. Since Hillary has been at the helm, over a million dollars has been raised for that charity. She receives no compensation for her efforts, her time as CEO is donated, a fact that has been prevalent since she started the charity. All of this is in addition to her serving a four year term in the state legislature.

With regards to her campaign she takes no campaign donations from any groups, including religious groups, only individual donations from her constituents of less than ten dollars. No one knows how much of her personal money is used to finance her campaign, but the media coverage in this campaign has done more than its share in making her popular and well known.

The bottom line in all of these changes due to political favoritism is that most males are now looked at being basically dishonest, taking favors and money to advance themselves at the cost of everyone else. A lot of companies saw this and started making changes that would even out some of this distortion in life. They started easy, changing dress codes for the male, making him appear less masculine, which stopped some of this male only mentality. The males that did not conform left the companies employment, making vacancies for more female employees or males that were essentially neutered gender wise. Since a lot of the corruption left with the good ole boys the companies flourished making record profits and making huge strides in gaining market share. The males that fled, found finding any kind of employment sparse, most of them still unemployed even to this day.

The companies that did not make the changes found themselves losing business at an alarming rate. So they either had to join the ranks of the others embracing the new changes or end up going bankrupt.

The company I had just interviewed with was one of the leaders in adopting these changes. As I was walking to the personnel department that morning for my interview I saw very few males that were dressed masculine. No skirts per say, but hair in a feminine cut, blouses instead of shirts and basic makeup like lipstick and mascara. Otherwise they seemed happy in their role, doing their jobs with a smile on their face.

I was called in the next morning, getting dressed quickly and was at their offices before nine o’clock. I had to sign a pile of papers, acknowledging the rules I will have to adhere to. Just like I thought, there was no one employed who fit the normal male image or personality. After my entrance interview that morning welcoming me to the company I was given a list of things I would have to have done to be able to work here. When I took a minute to look at the list, I let out a huge sigh, my days as a normal looking male were over with, the feminine haircut, use of makeup and their no pants rule for all newly hired employees would leave me severally lacking in anything masculine looking. Then there was the proviso that my male organ had to be tucked away, unavailable for use and not to be seen at any time. In the case of new hires, like me, I was to wear some type of breast forms for the first three months, that to make me aware of my new status here. They even furnished an address of where these changes could be obtained, if I had them done there, they would handle the cost of the procedures.

I was shown where I would be working at, so that after tomorrow all I had to do was show up to work, my first day’s tasks laying on my desk. My boss did tell me she would see me after I showed up for work, making sure that I was adhering to the rules of my employment explicitly. Before I left my new cubicle I did notice the name plate on the desk, Miss Lee Hanover. Quite a change from the previous Lester Hanover. Incidentally the name Lester was despised by me. Although the name Lee could be used for either gender, the Miss on my nameplate ruled out any obvious connection to the male gender.

The job I had been given is a glorified secretary, the small cubicles just so that the male secretaries can’t talk with each other. My boss's office at the head of the row of cubicles. On her desk is a monitor where she can see what each one of her secretaries is doing at any time of the day. All kinds of hoops to jump through for a minimum wage job, that will lead nowhere in the following years. I should point out the wage although minimum in today’s economy was more than enough to live comfortably on. I was reminded the job was seven days a week, only on major holidays was the company closed. However, the hours had been reduced since we worked only from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon.

I did call the salon after I left the companies headquarters wanting to get these changes over and done with. I was already dreading them, but either I complied or I would have no job. I arranged an appointment later today, the one taking my information telling me it would take up to five hours to accomplish the changes depending on the procedures that I chose to accomplish those changes.

I picked up some take out to eat, but did not buy as much as I usually consumed. All of this having a profound effect on me. I ate my meager lunch in their fast foods patio area, while I contemplated my soon to be new look.

With a sense of dread I made my way to the salon, and was greeted warmly and hustled off to a room near the back of the salon. On a table was all of my information, including some info from the company. Most of it was permission slips that I needed to sign agreeing to the procedures. Each was one explained to me, then the options available to achieve those changes. I did ask a few questions, but it seemed the only way for me to stay employed was to embrace the changes wholeheartedly.

I swallowed hard and took the more long lasting options, hoping after this all settled I could expect to be still employed with them over the following years. Since I had only one offer of an interview after college, the job prospects if I lost this job were non existent.

They started right away, a cream to remove all of my body hair, I had chosen the permanent option, never enjoying having any hair on my body. Then my feet were placed in stirrups extended from the end of the table and junior glued to my groin, then a silicone vagina was glued over that to give the appearance of a female’s sex. I shed a tear as that was being completed, I never did masturbate much, but now that was a mute point. Once the tech was done down there, I had a slit between two puffy lips, my male genitals now gone. I closed my eyes trying to cope with what had been done.

My eyes popped open quickly when two cups were glued to my chest right above my nipples. From the size of the cups I will be well endowed. When I signed the permission slips I had no idea about what a C cup breast looked like, much less how they were going to be formed. Since it could be reversed later on down the road, I thought it a better option then wearing breast forms. Maybe that was not a wise decision, now that I had seen the size of my soon to be breasts. Well they don’t have to fill the cups to overflowing so I might be alright. Hoses were hooked to the cups and a pump somewhere started pulling extra flesh into the cups, the start of my soon to be required company breasts.

While the pump was doing its thing my nails were worked on, soaked, cuticle removed, extensions added and then polish, a pale pink color. All males that were employed anywhere had to wear pink polish on their fingernails, another one of the rules of the new society. Then my hair was washed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. As she finished the cut she spread a paste over my hair roots first, then through the rest of my shoulder length hair. The paste was a pale pink, now my hair would also be that color. The new society making sure that any male employed would be easily distinguishable from his female superiors.

After the color had set and the paste had been washed out my hair was placed in curlers, then a dryer was slid over my head, while the pump was still encouraging my breasts to grow. I looked down at my nails again, not to be taken for granted anymore a chipped nail or poor polish job and I could be sent home without pay for the day. If I was to wear open toed heels my toenails had to be similarly polished at all times.

So many rules, all devised to make sure the male knows his place in society. There have been rumors about how things used to be, but when told of them they seemed improbable. Imagine a male being able to ask a female to marry him, what a laugh.

It indeed took them most of the day to complete my transition. Finally I was inspected, the result of each procedure to satisfy a rule photographed, a copy of which to be placed in my personnel file. My nails were measured for length, having to meet the three quarters of an inch past my fingertips rule. Of course, a picture of my breasts, and my new vagina to prove that those requirements had been met. Then I received a standard secretarial uniform, pencil skirt whose hem was five inches above the top of my knee. Then we have the blouse, white lace with a plunging neckline showing at least three inches of my cleavage. The standard heels were five inches in height, stiletto heel and open toed, my pink toenails proudly on display. My makeup semi-permanent lipstick and rouge, pink in color to match my nails. Three piercings in each ear, two studs and one pair of three inch hoops all in shades of pink. My hair had been styled, the pinkish blonde color tying all of my new look together.

Now for the bus ride home, another rule of the new society. I had gotten used to taking the bus everywhere, but now it would be quite a different experience. All the males adorned in their pink essence, quite a sight for the other bus riders. I never thought when I used to stare at the pink males that I too would be one sooner than I thought.

No males allowed to own or operate a car, much less ride in one unless he was engaged or married, his significant other to be the driver. That more than anything reducing the male attitude regarding their superiority.

Once home I slipped out of my heels and put on the required mules for the evening. The calves of my legs already throbbing, but there was nothing I could do about it. Rules are rules. I ate my salad, now that I am employed a bit larger one than when I was un-employed. I am allowed thirty minutes of TV, from the restricted list of shows for males. Then had to get ready for bed. Undressed, a ten minute shower, then moisturizing cream for my whole body. Thus prepared for bed I made my way to the chair and slipped into it positioning my arms in the restraints and leaning my head back into the holder for that purpose. At exactly 09:01 the restraints tightened around my arms and my head was secured in its holder. The butt plug was eased into my rear passage and inflated keeping it secure for the rest of the evening. At 08:01 the next morning the procedure was reversed, then I dressed to go to work. A much better situation than when I didn’t have a job.

Whether I fell asleep right away or later was not the problem of the chair, its function was to see that my hairdo remained pristine and that I did not engage in sex of any kind during the evening. As a secondary function it will handle all normal excrements for a male during the evening. Males are not allowed any kind of a sexual release unless they are married and their spouses want it to happen. Such is the life of a male who now has a job in a female led society. I am so happy I finally have a job. Years of hoping and praying finally fulfilled.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca