Bobbi: Exotic Jewelry Gurl

Bobbi: Exotic Jewelry Gurl

Rhonda, my girlfriend, was bouncing all over the place. I was apprehended and dragged to her computer, as she pointed to the screen. She had been looking at jewelry, what was on the screen a collection of exquisite looking pieces that looked expensive. I tried to forestall her asking me to get her the collection, knowing I could not afford any one of these items, much less the collection.

She pointed to the items that she liked the most, then told me that if I availed myself of three treatments at the salon she used, and modeled the jewelry so that pictures could be taken her collection of jewelry would be free. I looked at her skeptically, doubting anything these days would be free. She showed me the list of services that would be used, essential for my job as a model for the jewelry. I knew there was a catch somewhere, but could not find it as I looked over the details of the promotion. Although I read the details, I have no idea what they meant. The fact that I would be treated at her salon, then model the jewelry the only thoughts occupying my limited mental capacity.

It did have a time limit, the promotion would expire in three days. Rhonda asked if she could make me an appointment, her face contorted hoping I would say yes. I nodded my head and was soon flat on my back as she kissed me and groped anything she could get a hold of. I guess she appreciated my willingness to make her happy, her enthusiasm lasting for over an hour. When I finally made it to the bathroom, my face was covered in lipstick, my hair was messed up and my clothes were barely hanging on my body. Sure hope I will not regret doing this.

She did make the appointment, begging the lady at the salon for an appointment tomorrow, she just had to have that jewelry, the sooner the better. After quite a long conversation she did manage to get me an appointment at seven the next morning, the groan coming from me could be heard by all concerned. Rhonda did mention that several of the treatments could be performed as I caught up on my sleep. The kind of treatments though were not discussed, Rhonda focused on the jewelry and I was not familiar with what the salon did for their customers.

I was dragged out of bed at the ungodly hour of six A.M., dressed in some clothes and then escorted to her car. She made the trip in record time, with me closing my eyes at her driving this morning. Led into the salon, as she told the receptionist about my appointment and the promotion that I wanted. She went with me to the treatment room and helped me to get undressed, while I was trying to keep hold of my clothing. I lost the battle, the tech coming into the room as Rhonda and my clothes left. She did promise to come and pick me up when they finished with me, blew me a kiss and disappeared.

The tech introduced herself as she looked at me to see what she had to work with. I was shown the permission forms for the promotion, I was to read them then sign at the bottom of the form. While I was glancing at the forms, she measured my body at spots where apparently the jewelry would reside. Around my neck, my wrists, my upper arm, my ankle and my waist. Add in a measurement of my chest and hips and there was not much left that had not been measured. She also sized my ring finger and the second toe on my foot. Puzzled at the need for measuring me in such detail, but not knowing what to say to her, I did not question her.

I had signed the permission forms even though I did not read all of them. She gathered them up and placed them in a file, then left the room to gather what she needed to have so she could work on me. She returned with a cart loaded with her supplies. On the top shelf of the cart were several trays of exotic jewelry. Several of the jewelry trays in pink tones, the stones delicate and quite impressive. In the remaining tray the stones looked like diamonds, glistening and sparkling in the light. I did wonder where all the pieces of jewelry went. The pink trays were full to overflowing with exotic pieces of jewelry, I doubted there was enough room on a body to wear all that jewelry.

I knew Rhonda would look fantastic wearing the jewelry, either color blending with her skin coloring. I looked forward to seeing her decked out in the jewelry, already planning how to entice her to a possible sexual escapade.

Back to now as I was helped up on a table and she covered my body in a whitish cream. She did not miss any area on my front side, even my face and eyebrows received a coat of the cream. It was left on for twenty minutes, then wiped off, my body hair disappearing with the cream. I was then turned over, and the back side handled the same way. She was not shy, my groin and ass getting their fair share, luckily my penis did not embarrass me as she performed her task. Even my anus received a dose of the cream, rubbed in all around my hole. Too late, I came to the conclusion that the cream was meant to remove my body hair. I did wonder about the face and eyebrows, those areas missing would be quite noticeable on a male.

I did receive soothing lotion on my denuded body, slowly rubbed in leaving my skin soft and smelling like roses, fragrant roses.

She moved me to a chair in front of a sink, then washed and conditioned my hair. It felt good, although I couldn’t understand what my hair had to do with jewelry. I was in awe as she wrapped my hair around a multitude of curlers, sprayed with a setting lotion then a dryer was turned on over my head full of curlers. The warm air drying my hair but also causing goose pimples as it flowed over my naked body.

Nails were next, as she worked on them for over an hour. Extensions added to each fingernail, then way too many coats of polish applied to each nail. I ended up with a pale pink polish, shiny and sparkly.

When the dryer shut off, the curlers were removed and the curls were lightly brushed out creating a very feminine style. I was then pulled from the chair and taken over to a frame that was right in the middle of the room. I was bent over and my head was secured to the front of the frame. I complained, about what she had done but she just slid a gag in my mouth and fastened the straps behind my head. I moved my hands to try to remove the gag but soon found them also secured to the frame, alongside my face. I stomped my feet in protest, only to have them attached to the bottom of the frame. The attachment held the foot securely, the ball of my foot on the frame, while my heel is elevated severally.

The pink trays were removed from the cart, as she went through them looking for specific items to put on my naked body. When she removed two bracelets from the tray I squirmed a little fearing where they would end up, hopefully on my wrists. Sure enough they were fastened around my wrists, a distinct click as the clasp on the bracelet was hooked together. The bracelet was about an inch wide, quite heavy and had numerous short chains dangling along its length. It was quite beautiful, the pinkish stones glistening in the light. She took each chain and attached it to a fingernail. A hole at the side of the nail accepting the end of the chain, a post like end that slipped through the nail. Then something was slid over the post from underneath securing the chain to the nail. After she finished with one hand I tried moving my fingers, the chain only allowing a slight movement, no bending of the fingers at all.

Next was my shoes, a high heel that fit securely on to the attachment that secured my foot to the frame. The high heel had several straps to be fastened, the distinct click as each strap was fastened together. Then the one remaining strap on each heel was fastened to the other heel strap only allowing my feet to be a foot apart. Another click as the two straps are fastened together. Of course, I was no longer attached to the frame at my feet. I doubt I will be going anywhere the way I had been hobbled, add in the height of the heels I doubt I will be walking much either.

Next a wide belt was fastened around my waist, fitting fairly snug. Then she removed a bundle of chains like she used on my bracelets and started attaching them to the belt. She reached into the tray again and removed two cone like objects. They were laid next to me on a counter as she pulled a hose from the back of the counter and proceeded to hold the cone against my chest, then attached the hose to the tip of the cone. Since I was bent over the loose flesh on my chest had formed two tiny tits. The cone was sat over the tit, then the hose was activated, the suction pulling quite a bit of my flesh into the cone suddenly. The hose then detached, the cone was full with a tiny nipple of flesh sticking out of the end of the cone. She grabbed a ring of delicate stones and slipped them on the exposed nipple. A little heat was applied, the ring now fused with my skin. A chain was hooked to the ring, then to the belt. Of course, the cone could not be removed now.

After both of my tits had received the chain she moved down to my groin. The frame started moving lifting my rear into the air, my stomach on one of the supports on the frame my legs now hanging in mid air. She reached in between my legs, fondling my penis then rubbed a cream all over the organ. A cylinder of stones about three inches long was slid over the penis, as she had to push fairly hard to get it over my penis. The cream allowed it to slide on, even though the fit was extremely tight. The tip of my penis was now sticking out of the cylinder end. A larger ring about an inch wide was placed behind my testicles, then closed trapping my testicles in the small ring. The cylinder and the ring were hooked together, as they interlocked with each other two distinct clicks could be heard. Heat again applied, as she tried to twist them, there was no movement of either. Chains applied again then attached to the belt, although these chains went back between my legs and attached to the rear portion of the belt. The chain pulled my penis and testicles back between my legs, holding them there.

I was beginning to be worried about the jewelry, I doubted it could be removed easily, each piece seemed to restrict any movement on my part. Not a good sign for my future as a member of the male sex. Further chains were attached to my bracelets, then with my arms in front of me secured to each other. I could no longer move my arms behind me, they were now trapped in front of me.

The gag was removed then in a quick maneuver another cylinder was clamped around my tongue. The two halves of the cylinder pulled together after she had pulled my tongue to the front of my mouth. Another couple of clicks, the cylinder now tight around my tongue. I tried to complain, but the design of the cylinder prevented any understandable words to be heard.

There were still jewelry in the tray, my ears next on the agenda. Several holes were lasered in to each ear, the earring added shortly thereafter. All the earrings were dangling from my ear, several long enough to reach my chest. In the mix of earrings there was a pair of hoops, there size quite large, almost three inches in diameter.

A necklace was added around my neck, just long enough to circle my neck and clasp together. Another click was heard, the sound now quite ominous. Another hoop was placed in my nose, the laser making a hole in one side of my nose. The hoop was only an inch across, but decorated with lots of pinkish stones making it very visible.

Then she placed a blindfold over my eyes, blocking the view of what she was doing in the mirror in front of me.

I felt someone touch my anus, then a spray of some kind, then nothing. She worked back there for quite a long time, with me feeling her brush up against my leg from time to time. More chains were used, I could feel them as she pulled them taught, then attached to the belt.

Nothing for a few minutes, no sound and nothing felt on my body. Then she released me from the frame. I had to be helped to stand up, with the heels and being bent over for so long I was extremely wobbly. The blindfold was removed and I was stood in front of a mirror. It took a few minutes for my eyes to take in all the things that had been done to me, the overall effect was exotic and definitely female. I could stagger along, taking only short steps. My arms were secured in front of me, my hands and fingers pretty well useless.

Taken to a chair and seated as she started working on my hair. The chair was padded, although I still felt something at my anus. Three hours later she had finished, my hair filled with pinkish chains securing each bundle of curls. The ends dangling from my head.

I was a walking wet dream, no female would wear such exotic jewelry even if they could afford it. My makeup was refreshed and two pencil thin eyebrows were drawn over my eyes. I was then taken to another room, for my photos to be taken.

The photographer loved my look, taking thousands of pictures. Several times he had to get more disks for his cameras, as I was left waiting for his return. I was also viewed by a multitude of visitors, each in awe of my looks.

When Rhonda showed up I turned a lovely shade of red, embarrassed to be seen like this. She couldn’t take her eyes off me, as I watched to see if I had somehow upset her with my exotic look. The lady that did the work on me came to talk to Rhonda. They conversed for over an hour as the photographer used up all of his remaining disk space on several cameras. I was just hoping for all of this to be over with, anxious to get home. I never thought of what would be required to remove the jewelry that had been put on me, just wanting to get out of here.

I did notice she was wearing her jewelry, it looked magnificent on her.

The photographer finished as Rhonda came to take me home. I was asking her about my jewelry, wanting it taken off. With my tongue trapped in the cylinder nothing that could be understood came out of my mouth. I was helped into her car, another cushion put on the seat before I sat on it. Seat belt fastened and she drove off. It took her about thirty minutes to get us home, them I was left in the car as she moved a few thing that had been put in the trunk into the house. She then came to get me, attaching a leash to my necklace. Helped up then led into the house, with me wondering why the jewelry was still on my body. The leash did make me obey, feeling like I was a little child that had to be controlled. Once in the house she hooked the leash to a light fixture keeping me standing. In our bedroom she worked on something, taking about forty minutes to finish what she was doing.

I was gathered up and taken into the bedroom, noticing a frame that had been suspended over our bed. Taken to the frame I was attached to it, my belt and several of my chains used to do the deed.

Then she laid on the bed, clearing her throat, then started telling me what had been done and the permanence of it. She did start with how much I was being paid, and that the payments were for life. Then she told me that the jewelry was attached permanently unable to be removed. If I managed to cut it off somehow any financial benefits would cease immediately.

I closed my eyes trying to not burst out in tears. In my mind, I could see the pieces of jewelry as they resided on my body, just not able to believe that I was stuck in them for life. Before I could freak out any more she told me that I would receive five hundred dollars a week for wearing the jewelry, with only one day a week at the salon for refreshing the look and more pictures.

I understood her, but the fact that the jewelry is with me forever still occupying my mind. Then of all times for it to happen I had to pee. Rhonda caught on quickly, my feet moving back and forth nervously kind of a dead giveaway. She went to one of her bags, then removed a bag with a hose attached. She bent down and attached the hose to the cylinder around my penis telling me to go ahead. I gave her such a look but she just rubbed my stomach for a few moments and I was soon peeing.

Since I had peed she suggested that I also do number two. Another hose and bag appeared as I was bent over a table. She fiddled with something in my anus, then inserted something in it screwing it tight in the threaded fixture there. I felt water running in and soon felt bloated. She made me suffer for a few minutes then turned a valve and all of the water came rushing out. Three more times then she closed up the hole, again something screwed in to whatever was in my anus. She did hold a mirror up so I could see what was back there, a round jeweled object that the middle was able to be removed, screwed out to be specific. I realized I had no control of any of my body functions, help would be needed to perform even the simplest task. My long nails and the bracelets with the chains not allowing me to do anything for myself. I suddenly thought about eating, realizing I could not even feed myself.

I guess Rhonda was aware of my thoughts as she went to the refrigerator and removed a bottle. Warmed up in a pan of water she approached me and inserted the nipple of the bottle in my mouth. Problem solved. My nourishment from a baby bottle now, necessitating Rhonda to prepare it for me.

A few tears escaped my eye, so helpless and yet an object of desire for many females. My jewelry so fancy, a females delight to own some of these pieces. I did finally come to terms with my helplessness, I had Rhonda to love me and take care of me, plus I was keeping us financially secure.

Lets face it, I was just an exotic jewelry gurl now, and forever more.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Constance; The Longest Nail

Constance; The Longest Nail

It was an ad in a local newspaper, what brought my attention to it was the photograph of a female hand located right in the middle of the ad. The hand had beautiful long nails, done in a bright red polish, the rose nail art adding to the elegance of the hand.

The ad was announcing a contest for any interested parties. The winner would be the one with the longest, most beautiful nails after six months. The prize mentioned was substantial, ten thousand dollars, with lots of additional prizes for the winner from other sponsors. The Turnabout Gurl Salon was offering the cash prize, additional information could be had by visiting the salon.

Normally a male like myself would not even look at such an advertisement. For some reason the female hand with long elegant nails had a special attraction for me. My girlfriend and I first ran into each other when she was coming out of a nail salon. I was next door at the coffee place, my second love in life. I had almost knocked her down, when I grabbed her arm to steady her the nails caught my eye. She had to get my attention because I was staring at her nails and still holding her hand. Of course, I blushed a brilliant red, a male infatuated with a female’s hands and nails, not the norm. Most males fixate on the breasts, or the legs or tush, not a female’s nails.

I offered her a cup of coffee, to apologize for my rude behavior, thrilled when she accepted. We sat and talked for an hour about each of our lives, with me sneaking glimpses of her nails every chance I got. I am sure she was aware of my glimpses, but she refrained from saying anything. We exchanged phone numbers, the fact that we both loved the theater a common interest between us. It was ten days later when I asked her to a new performance of the local community theater in town. I treated her to dinner before the performance, then we enjoyed the two hour long production. A stop at our coffee shop on the way back to her apartment, then a kiss at her door as I left her.

Since then we have dated many more times, me even taking her to theater productions in the near-by larger town. We have spent some time together in each other’s apartment, but never shared a bed for any romantic interests. I was content for her company, an intelligent woman, who is driven and grounded in life. I wonder what she will think about the contest. It will have to wait, she is on a trip for her business and will not be back until Saturday.

I am semi-retired, making my fortune in a couple of inventions that I had developed at a younger age. I managed to find the right investors, ones that produced the item and still shared a portion of the profits with me. Those shares added up to major money, and three years later I retired from the job market. I still piddle around with some investments, but a monthly check for all of my expenses and more is deposited in my account on the first of every month.

I decided to check the salon for the details of the contest. Ever since childhood my nails have grown at an unnatural rate, quite often making a nuisance of themselves. I cared for them, the basics done to them every week, a habit that my mother had instilled in me. As I remember she had long nails too, I guess I inherited the characteristic from her. I ate out at one of my favorite places, a deli with the best subs in the world, the meal fantastic as usual. They offered a draft root beer that complimented the sandwich perfectly.

I drove to the salon, entered and asked to speak to someone about the nail contest. I had to wait for a few moments, but the vision of femaleness that approached me was well worth the wait. I was taken back to an office in the back of the salon, and shown to a seat. She introduced herself as Erica, one of the nail specialists for the salon chain. She was here to help oversee the contest for the owner.

“Let me give you the highlights of the contest, then I can answer any questions for you. The fee for entering the contest is twenty four weekly appointments for basic nail care. You have to start the contest with nails that are at your fingertips. At every appointment you will receive a basic manicure, and a photograph will be taken of your hands. That is to prevent someone getting extensions or other nail enhancements. You can have clear polish or color that is up to you. The cost of the weekly manicure has been reduced to ten dollars per visit, to make it affordable for all participants. In addition to the cash prize, there is clothing, makeup, and other salon services that we offer included as part of the overall prize.”

I thought about it, maybe I would have a slight edge in this, I am sure I can convince my girlfriend Jan to help figure out a use for the prizes. Erica took a minute to handle a phone call, but had the application on her desk if I decided to enter. I swallowed hard, this was not anything that a male would usually do, but the downside seemed minor and way down the road. I filled out the application, and Erica checked to see when I could get my first manicure. She took me to another room, this one lined with hundreds of bottles of nail polish. I was surprised to be taken so quickly, but no matter.

Cheri Lyn welcomed me, plunging my hands into some bowls of liquid. The liquid was warm, a little oily but comforting. After soaking for a few minutes she worked around the edge of my nail, removing the excess cuticle. No, I did not know what that was at the time. Then she filed them into a slight oval, my nails at the moment barely to the end of my fingers. A base coat was applied to the nails then a clear polish next. I was told that the clear polish gets super hard, preventing any breakage or tampering with the nails. I was asked if I wanted color, but I decided to leave that decision to Jan when she gets back.

A photo of my hands up against my face is taken, that way I can be identified easily. After the nails are good and dry I manage to get my wallet out to pay the fee. I tipped Cheri Lyn five dollars, not sure what the normal tip would be for a manicure. The way I was treated by her worth the amount of the tip alone.

My next appointment is set-up and I am on my way home. I pick up some Mexican takeout, definitely not in the mood to cook tonight. Tacos and a burrito, something to fill the stomach and bring a smile to my face. I did get looked at while I was ordering, the shine of the top coat attracting the attention of the gal that waited on me. On the way home I often caught myself looking at my glossy nails. Once they get longer, I am sure my eyes will be riveted to them.

The thought that everyone else night also be riveted to my nails made an appearance, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I hadn’t thought about that, long elegant nails on a male will attract a lot of attention, not necessarily the kind of attention that I may want. Maybe Jan can help me decide if I have suddenly become mentally unstable, before this goes too far.

I ate the tacos, deep in thought. Since I am not the most masculine male on the planet, this might sway things in the wrong direction. I am not out much in public, so I could probably avoid a lot of this. The few times I am out Jan is usually with me, so she would be affected the most with my less than masculine appearance. Speaking of the devil, my phone rings and Jan asks what I am doing. I hem and haw a bit, not sure how to bring this up in conversation. Recently she has become almost psychic, wanting to know what I have done.

I told her about the contest, my stop at the salon to find out more and my newly polished nails that seem to totally occupy my thought processes. I get a squeal at the other end of the line, than a bevy of questions. What color did you have them put on? Can you take a photograph with your phone and send it to me now? I was silenced with the sudden questions, brought back to the present as she asks me if the photograph is on the way.

I manage to get the phone aimed at my hand, snap a photograph and send it to her. Quiet on her end, maybe I have made a big mistake here. Then some talking in the background, than another bit of silence. “Meet me at the airport tomorrow morning at eight A.M. don’t be late. I love you immensely. Bye” I held the phone to my ear, the dial tone all I am hearing. Well any resolving of this possible problem will have to wait until tomorrow morning.

I set there on the couch for the longest time, trying to see if could make some sense of her words and actions. She was cutting her trip short, no explanation, nothing. Then the cryptic words and a dial tone. Definitely not much to go on, much less to make any conclusions from.

I got up early so that I would be on time to pick her up. Her flight was delayed some, so I had to wait an additional thirty minutes. As she cleared the gate she can running over, her heels making that click clack noise that they do on the terminal floor. I am almost knocked down by her, she had launched herself at me while still three foot away. I am hugged, kissed and then she pushed me back and grabbed my hands so she could take in the appearance. Another tight hug and kisses all over my face, I am beet red from the face down as she woman handled me. I am sure we had an audience, but every time I moved my head to look I was kissed again hard. Finally I managed to get her moving, down to baggage claim and then out to my car.

She was almost setting on my lap in the car, making driving rather frustrating. I took her to her apartment, and carried her luggage in for her. She was looking through her vanity for something, then squealed as she apparently found it. Her and a bottle of nail polish appeared at her kitchen table ready to color my nails. She had one of my hands in a death grip, pulling it closer to her so she could put on the polish. It was a deep red, making my short nails stand out like beacons. I was still in shock, cutting her trip short, eager to see my nails, now adding color to them, what next. That was soon answered as she changed her clothes and told me to take her out to lunch. She had just finished adding polish to my nails and now she wanted to go out.

Her face reflected a smirk, but no backing down. When she picked up her purse I presumed my decision had been made for me about going out to eat. I was afraid of what people would say, but Jan was determined to go out. I usually gave in to what she wanted so we again entered my car and drove to her favorite restaurant. When I parked I got her door for her like I usually do, then held her hand as we walked in. The hostess greeted us and led us to a table. As I was handed a menu she saw my nails and complimented me on them. The waitress was right there wanting to know what we wanted to drink, another compliment on my nails and then she brought us our drinks. The whole afternoon that way, no laughing at me from the many people I came into contact with, at least, that I could detect.

I was dumbfounded, not at all what I was expecting. I kept my guard up, I am sure there was someone lurking that would make a nasty comment about my nails or my sexuality. Surprisingly it never came. Back to her apartment, she opened a bottle of wine and we sipped the selection for almost three hours. It was getting late so I got up to take my glass to the kitchen. Jan was right behind me, as I put the glass in the sink she was suddenly attached to my body. Her arms around my neck and most of her body right up against me. She asked when my next appointment was, insisting that she be taken along. I suggested an appointment for her too, at the same time, a nod that she approved of that quickly given. I did manage to escape, body intact, still clothed. The goodbye at her door was a little hot and heavy though, also lasting quite a bit longer than normal.

I made the drive home, thinking of her actions today. I was thrilled at the enthusiasm, but wondered what it all meant in the long run. I slipped off my clothes and was soon in dreamland. No recollection of what I dreamed about, but I had apparently tossed and turned all night considering how the sheets were wrapped all around me the following morning. I do remember running my fingers over the slick nail polish many times, the feelings that transmitted to my brain after doing this quite pleasant. Life did eventually settle into a routine, but Fridays were always different and exciting.

My appointment was for four o’clock on Fridays, Jan at my house midday so that we could lunch together. She insisted the red polish stay on, so I yielded to the request. After the first appointment I had no choice since the red polish was added before the clear coat. They had to use a special solvent to get the hardened clear coat off, so once the red polish was on I was stuck with it until the next appointment.

I did limit my excursions out, fearing the remarks that might come my way. After the first week Jan came by more often dragging me with her as she did her errands around town. She was an advisor to political candidates, helping them with their presentation and appearance. She also advised on issues, and what groups that would help them the most with their campaign. She worked odd hours, sometimes out all day, another day maybe an evening meal with one of her candidates and spouses. She had phenomenal success in her career, a waiting list for her services and opinions.

Unfortunately, for me I was now included in all of her meetings and dinners. I did get some strange stares from her clients, but nothing was said. As the weeks went by, the nails grew at a fantastic rate. The repercussions of the longer nails is everybody thinking that I am a female. If Jan would tolerate a different nail polish color I might have just got some strange looks, but a variety of bright red colors was all she allowed on my fingernails. To keep me more comfortable in her customer’s presence she started introducing me as her secretary. When she added a blouse and silky pants I received no more strange looks. I kept up the secretary image taking notes as the different meetings progressed.

The weekly appointments were looked forward to, Jan to see me getting manicured and polished, and I getting to see her get the same. I insisted that her nails be left to grow like mine, although she bitched frequently that she couldn’t do as much with the long nails. I just smiled in return. By the sixth week, my nails were looking awesome, even the gals at the salon were envious of their length. From the photographs on the salon wall, my nails were longer than most. After adding the bright red polish they seemed to stand out like a beacon on a fog covered shore.

I guess partly because I was more conscious of my appearance I managed to lose some weight. In fact, over the first eight weeks of the contest I lost thirteen pounds. That helped me in my female presentation. I wasn’t trying to present as a female every day, but the consensus of opinion of most people that saw me was that I was of the female gender. Imagine if I really tried to look the part.

At the next appointment Jan spoke to the technician asking if I could get some additional services on my next appointment. The tech got another lady to talk to Jan, me being left at the manicure table as they were still working on my nails. I never did find out what she had arranged, just that it would require three more hours next week. My nails were looking good, well better than good, from the photographs I was obviously in the lead, concerning nail length. The longer nails along with the reddish polish had turned my nails into something extremely feminine.

Most everybody I met or dealt with considered me a female now, I had long since stopped correcting them, just going along with their assumptions. Jan had picked items of feminine clothing slowly, now my closet was about half full of clothing usually worn by the distaff side. She had not got carried away with underwear yet, but I did have panties instead of boy shorts. I must admit the panties were lots softer and more comfortable.

Jan seemed to be getting busier, now we were out almost every day, dinners at least five nights a week. I tried to miss a few of them, but she had other ideas. On one of the appointments while she was having her nails done I got a pink polish applied to mine. Well that lasted for all of five minutes before she insisted that it all got taken off and my signature red re-applied. By now they were getting very feminine in length, almost a half inch past my fingertips.

Almost everywhere we went that was the first comment out of everybody’s mouth was about my nails that included the male politicians along with their wives. No longer was I thought of as a male, now female was the only gender mentioned in connection with me.

They had finished re-applying my red polish when two more techs entered the room. I suddenly had a bad feeling about the extra services she had arranged for me. When they wheeled in the machine with cups attached hanging down from the hoses, I knew that it wouldn’t be the masculine me that might win the contest, it would be Constance, Jan’s nickname for me that would be vying for the longest nail. Then when they glued the cups to my chest, there was no longer any doubt.

It was more than three extra hours that day, at the six hour mark the machine turned off, my cups runneth over. Since the breast was sucked from my body, I doubted they would suddenly go away or be re-absorbed back into my body. I was told the cups remained on, after three or four days they would dissolve and only leave the new pert breast on my chest. An hour after the machine turned off the cups were already softer and more flexible than before. I was offered a bra, Jan grabbing it and helping me into its embrace. Her smile was bigger as we headed home, looking my way often as she drove.

She had been after me to move in with her, after telling her no for three weeks she finally persuaded me and I moved in the next week. With sizable breasts now, she hired a moving company to move my things to her apartment, the guys who moved me obviously happy as they ogled me every chance they had. That was a very difficult time, getting used to be lusted after quite a change for a former male. I was indeed a former male, with Hooters like these I doubt I would ever be classified as a male again.

It wasn’t all bad, Jan playing with them was quite enjoyable, in fact I learned that I now could orgasm just from her manipulating my nipples. Indeed she did have fun playing with them, now when she was not working with one of her politicians, my breasts seemed to keep her focus. Always a grope, or a tweak of my nipple, then when bedtime arrived a more thorough seeing to was conducted by Jan. Out in public, I was embarrassed when she brushed up against my breasts or pinched a nipple when no one was watching. At home I was putty in her hands, actually looking forward to being groped or caressed.

I tried to reciprocate as often as I could, but Jan being so confident and outgoing, saw to it that I was never long without some attention. It eventually ended up with me having to get a recorder to use to take notes. I could still write, but not as fast as before. The long nails hampered writing and almost any other activity involving the use of my hands.

Then with only five weeks remaining in the contest, another upgrade to my appearance was instituted. My hair and makeup was done for me, a lighter shade of blonde with brunette highlights. As far as makeup goes, after they had shaped my eyebrows, eye makeup, rouge, lipstick became a regular habit with me. I received classes in doing my hair and makeup myself, a weeks’ worth and I was doing it as if I had been doing it my whole life. I thought that maybe when I was totally female in appearance that Jan might lose some fascination with me. Wrong again, even public displays of affection were now indulged in, Jan just smiling as people gawked at our antics, well her antics to be truthful.

The weeks progressed and two weeks from the finish of the contest I and four other contestants were notified that we were the five finalists in the contest. We were invited to the final judging at the salon, where we would be measured and all of our weekly photographs would be examined. Then at the conclusion a winner would be announced. From the photographs I saw at the salon, it was mainly between myself and a female from back east, both of us having similar nail growth.

When Jan and I arrived at the salon I was shown to a booth and the normal weekly manicure was performed. Erica and another lady examined each contestants nails after the polish was removed. A final photograph was taken and then compared to the last weekly photograph. Sylvia the other finalist with nails similar to mine came over and we talked as the judges compared photographs and observations. She was glad the contest was over, the last few weeks she has been unable to do much of anything, her long nails making doing things almost impossible. She worked as a secretary, her boss allowing her to finish the contest, but wanted Sylvia to be able to type again, a task she has been unable to do for seven weeks.

Francine the salon owner announced the winners, I did come in first, a very enthusiastic Jan seeing to my immediate reward. Sylvia was second, Erica announcing that she would get all the extra prizes same as me, while I received the cash prize. Part of the contest requirements were the right of the salon to use my hands in promotional material for the salon nationwide. I imagined just a lot of photographs to use in their advertising, it turns out that I will also being making personal appearances at other salons across the country.

Jan being the takeover type of person she is handling all of the arrangements for my appearances, while my hands were photographed many hundreds of times. I had a week of down time before my first personal appearance. Since Jan had stepped in to handle everything I was not aware that my appearances were to be as Constance, the winner of the contest. The appearances would stretch out over the next six months at least depending on the success of the program that I was advertising. Of course, Jan was ecstatic as I would be in total female mode for the entire time and my nails would only get longer. That pretty much stopped any physical activity for me, the nails were getting so long that almost anything was beyond my capability to perform. I did get nail appointments every few days, to make sure they were always at their best.

So other than make my appearances I was mainly a plaything for Jan. She had quit her job temporarily, more interested in accompanying me and seeing to the fact that I did not get bored on the trips. Believe me I was never bored, as I laid there every evening being ravished by my handler. As we made the circuit, several more steps towards femininity were taken, now both Jan and I were nearly identical in anatomical appearance. I never wore any male clothes, my wardrobe only dresses and skirts. A fact that Jan had insisted on.

I guess after a while the mind gets used to things, I really never thought back to when I was a male, now just content to dress sexily for Jan, do my makeup and hair to please her and then allow her to do with me what she wants. I am happy, very content and to think it all started with a contest for the longest nail.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Cathy: A Gift From Mom To Her Daughter

Cathy: A Gift From Mom To Her Daughter

I found myself suddenly an owner of a nail salon. My mother had bought it a few years ago, and managed to build it up to quite a profitable business. She offered many amenities to her customers, hiring some of the best manicurists in this part of the country to work there. I came into the picture when Mom was killed in a traffic accident a few weeks ago. I took the news pretty hard, withdrawing into myself and secluding myself at home. I knew she had the business, but what would happen to it never crossed my mind. A few weeks later at the reading of the will I found out it belonged to me now, a most unlikely candidate to become an owner of a nail salon. A male owning and operating a nail salon, how ridiculous.

I was twenty five, and dabbled in a lot of things, but no one thing stood out. I somehow managed to keep a roof over my head, but for more than a few months it was touch and go. I was relatively masculine, although no broad shoulders or a prominent jaw line. I kept my hair shoulder length and in a ponytail when necessary, otherwise just loose and kind of messy. I knew Mom was upset at that part of my grooming, but she said little other than to suggest a trim at her salon might make me look more attractive to the opposite sex. I was five inches under six foot tall and quite skinny. I did manage a couple years of college, but have done nothing with that education so far. As far as females go I was batting a big fat zero. No one interested me and even they were not keen to associate with me. One look at me and they would wander away. Too messy and lacking any drive or interest in bettering themselves was the conclusion they all seemed to come to.

One of the lawyers involved in her estate wanted to take me to the salon, so that I could see what is involved and find out what I wanted to do with the business. Vivian picked me up the next morning, driving me to the salon and introduced me to the manager that ran it for my Mother. It was early and there were no other people in the salon. We talked for awhile, discussing how profitable it was and what was involved in running the salon. The manager, Daisy ran the day to day affairs of the salon handling customers, complaints and managing the appointments, making sure she had enough help to take care of everybody. She also handled ordering supplies and making sure the salon looked clean and neat all the time.

Mom’s part in all of this was to act as a receptionist, talking with the customers, booking appointments and helping things run smoothly in the salon. I could see Mom doing this, she liked to talk to people often talking for hours about essentially nothing subject wise. She never told the customers she owned the salon, just interacting with them as friends. Daisy suggested I take that role too, the salon was known for being friendly, a great place to spend a few hours and get a fantastic set of nails or a change of polish at a fair price. I listened but never said anything in response to her suggestion. I was returned home later promising Vivian I would think it over and call her late tomorrow with what I wanted to do with the salon. I couldn’t see myself, a male, owning the salon, but the almost four thousand dollars most month’s clear profit was certainly a positive advantage to keeping the salon.

That night I managed some sleep but it was a restless sleep, often waking for a short time, then back to sleep. I know a few of my dreams were about the nail salon, even one with me sporting long polished nails in a bright pink polish. For some reason that one stuck in my memory, quite vivid and troubling to me. I kept busy around the apartment as soon as I dressed, stopping every once in a while to try and figure out what to do about Mom’s business. I was reluctant to sell it, since Mom loved it so dearly. Getting rid of her business seemed so wrong and disrespectful of her efforts for all those years.

I got a call from Daisy just before lunch wanting me to come in and spend a couple of hours watching what was going on and talking with a few of the customers and the employees. She asked twice, almost pleading with me, so I gave in telling her I would be there in an hour. I didn’t think it would help make up my mind, but Daisy seemed nice and caring, so I ventured forth. When I got to the salon it was busy nearly all of the manicure stations full with a couple of ladies checking in at reception. Daisy and one of the other manicurists were filling in since Mom was gone. Even that brief thought made me sad, she was gone now, never to come back. I wiped a tear from my eye and waited for Daisy to finish with the lady she was talking to.

The lady was escorted to one of the empty stations and quickly greeted by Heather who started in on her nails. Daisy tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to blush, since I had been watching intently what Heather was doing not seeing Daisy waiting for me. We walked back to the small office and she had me sit on the sofa. She sat right next to me, holding one of my hands in hers.

“I may be out of line in proposing this but I think you need to experience what your Mother did at the salon for a while, before you make a decision. She loved her job here, arriving early and leaving late. She did mention you often, her apparent love for you quite strong. Her frustration at your go nowhere lifestyle and your messy hair quite often talked about. Never in disgust just frustration.

I would like to give you a set of nails, polish them and then put one of our smocks over your clothing. Mingle with the customers, talk with them and if you feel you want to help, learn a little about what she did here at the salon. Your voice is androgynous, neither male or extremely female. Then later in the day when things slow down we can talk about your experiences here today. So do you want to get your feet wet or just withdraw into your shell missing out on a lot of life’s delights?”

I nodded my head in the affirmative, squeaked out a barely audible yes then was whisked away to one of the manicure stations after she slipped a smock over my clothing. I looked down at my clothing, the male image now in doubt.

Once seated at Daisy’s station she removed a brush from her purse and attacked my hair. A few strokes of the brush and a cute barrette added to my hairdo and the female me was now the image I saw in the mirror. She gathered her things then started working on my nails.

My fingers were immersed in bowls of liquid, according to Daisy to soften the cuticles so she could remove them. I watched her work, curious to what she was doing. After removing any excess cuticles she started filing my nails. Already my nails were looking quite different, but since I did nothing at home with regards to my nails, anything done to them would be an improvement. Once the filing was completed I had ten oval nails, each a little longer than the end of my fingers.

She picked out some extensions from her box of goodies, as she laid them next to the finger they would be glued on I swallowed hard. Each was a half inch inch longer than my natural nail, way longer than I thought I could handle. Daisy saw the look on my face, then explained it is hard to convince ladies to get long polished nails if the one doing the nails has short stubby fingernails to start with. By the time my mind had considered her argument she already had three of the extensions glued to my natural nails. Another hard swallow, trying to get what was stuck in my throat to move somewhere, either up or down. As she started on my other hand I closed my eyes, what I can’t see can not be happening.

I managed to ask her a question as she moved my hands under a purple light. I asked how long the nails stayed on, her response not what I wanted to hear. According to Daisy they bonded with my own nails, so to remove them I had to wait until my own nail grew out. That was usually four to five months. Another huge sigh on my part, that damn obstruction in my throat getting larger and still wedged securely in place. A few minutes later Daisy smiled and told me they could be removed before that time, but I would have to give her idea a full chance before she would consider removing them.

After the purple light she started with the polishes, a clear coat to seal the nail to keep any color from bleeding into the nail. Then three coats of polish, in my case a peachy red color that had tiny bits of glitter in it to make the nail sparkle when dry. I felt each coat as she applied it, the wet cool polish gliding on easily. Each coat of polish received a purple light treatment to harden the polish. Then finally another clear polish, this one designed to seal the polish off, and add extra shine to the nails. All during her application of the polishes I was mesmerized by what she was doing, my eyes never wandering far from my gorgeous nails. Yes, to me they were gorgeous making my hand look so delicate and feminine.

I was taken to the back of the shop, then she asked me to remove my pants, the nails making undoing the zipper and button very difficult. As they slid down my legs she helped me step out of them then quickly took an electric shaver to the hair on my legs. Since I had very little to start with in short order I was hairless from my thighs to my feet. I was expecting something to replace the pants, but her large smile told me there would not be anything forthcoming. She added some lipstick to my lips and I was pushed out into the salon. I was taken around and introduced to each manicurist, then the customer they were working on. Daisy referred to me as, Cathy a daughter of my Mother who was also named Cathy. After all of the introductions I was left alone, wondering around the salon and straightening things up some. I stopped to talk to a couple of customers who were seated next to the purple lights, their hands under the lights baking the polish on, asking them if this was their first set and if they enjoyed the experience.

I noticed a couple of new customers come in and headed to reception. I had seen what Daisy did earlier, so tried to emulate what she did. Daisy finally came to my rescue, helping me check them in and find their manicurist. Right after that a couple of ladies were ready to check out so I learned the correct procedure for that. It turns out it was a Mother and her daughter, out for some afternoon shopping and getting a beauty treatment to make them feel better. I thought of my recent experience, I did feel better since I was given the nails. A feel good feeling that they were now pretty, and something to be proud of.

The afternoon passed quickly, with me talking to the customers and helping check in new customers and helping others to check out. Later in the afternoon during a lull in appointments one of the gals did my toes, the massage and rubbing in of the softening lotion on my feet turned my whole body to mush. Now I was torn whether to admire my fingernails or my feet, both options looking pretty and dainty. It was late in the day when I became aware of how short my smock was, my smooth legs and polished toes clearly obvious for all to see. Why it took me that long to be aware of the bare legs and the short smock I will never know. According to Daisy I managed to handle myself in a ladylike manner not showing anything that should not be seen through the day.

The salon closed at seven, as I was amazed at the number of hours I had been there and how fast the time seemed to pass. I had left my cell phone at home so a little after seven Vivian showed up at the salon, trying to see if I had made a decision. She smiled when she recognized me and gave me such a hug. I was complimented on my nails and my mode of dress for the day. I blushed since I was essentially wearing a form of dress and looking quite feminine. She set her briefcase down and opened it removing a letter from it. As she handed it to me she told me it was from my Mother hoping I might surprise her and do what I had done today. I received another huge hug and she left. Daisy left me alone in the small office so that I could read what Mom wrote. I could see Daisy off in the distance watching me, knowing full well what was in the letter. As I opened it with shaking hands, and a tear running down my cheek I read her words to me.

Cathy

I so hoped you would experience what my life at the salon was like, and with this letter in your hands you have apparently dipped your toes in the water. I saw in you a long time ago a side of you that you stubbornly resisted for all of these years. Let go of the past, enjoy what is left of life as it should be. The salon is a mix of people and desires and has always been so. Embrace everything for that is how you can learn and grow in life. If you will open up your life I am sure you will find a life partner at the salon, someone who you can love and will love you in return. One that appreciates you for who you are, not for what you could be.

There is more than just the salon for you in my inheritance. That information was withheld from you until it could be determined what you would do with the salon. Since you seemed to have embraced it in the proper way, Vivian will make you aware of the extra things that will be yours. Please lose the do nothing attitude of years past, and look forward to each and every day with hope and determination. Oh, one more thing please see that you go to my hair salon and do something with your hair. A sure way to make your mom happy with you. Love you always as I have for these many years.

Love Mom

I did make an appointment at her hair salon to get my messy hair cut and styled. Something for Mom from her loving daughter. When I got there her regular stylist recognized me from a picture Mom had shown her and gathered me up and took me to her station. I was never consulted as she washed and conditioned my hair then cut it into a feminine style. When she was done and the curlers had come out, I almost broke down in years, I looked at the image in the mirror, seeing a younger female that looked so much like my mother. I hugged the girl thanking her for her help and tipped her well. I walked out of the hair salon my head held high and proud to be a female.

Back at the nail salon I was hugged by everybody, all complimenting me on my new hair style. I even got called Cathy from a few of Mom’s older customers, I presume the resemblance quite striking with their less than perfect eyesight. I did not correct them just hugged them and continued my conversation with them.

My nails never were allowed to look less than perfect, the best advertisement for the salon. Changes of polish often, as the boss had to try the new colors to see if they looked as good on nails as they did in the bottle. My nails are now almost an inch past my fingertips, the extra length making my hands look even more delicate than normal. I have so got used to them, that without them I can’t do anything. Once every two months the old nails are removed, my natural nails allowed a day to recoup, then the extensions reapplied to my fingers. I feel so lost during that long day, the lack of my long elegant nails almost debilitating.

I did find my true love, she was right under my nose all the time. Daisy had to make the first overture, but I soon woke up and met her half way. We plan on getting married soon, loving each other and taking care of the salon our main goals in life. I really could not ask for anything more in life, a lover I can share life with and a nail salon that is so important to us, a gift from Mom to me her loving daughter.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Kara; Becoming A Dance Diva

Kara; Becoming A Dance Diva

The day of the big recital was nearing, also the end of my forced punishment. My remark over three months ago was said in jest, at least, that is what I claimed when confronted on it. Mother in her infinite wisdom thought otherwise. Once Mother gets an idea, she runs with it and no amount of begging and screaming on my part was able to deter her. Believe me I did a lot of begging trying to avoid what my Mother had planned for me.

My sister like most young girls wanted to take dance classes. Being from an upper middle class family there were enough funds to allow her to indulge her desires. Unfortunately, I was dragged along with her since my soccer games were scheduled on the same day just earlier in the afternoon. Of course, she had to endure being at my practices and games before we moved on to her dance classes. Being all boy, I thought the dance classes were stupid, dancing around wearing leotards and tights seemed like such a waste.

I was also very outspoken in my views and didn’t hesitate to make them known to anyone within hearing distance. While Mother was talking to several other mothers of the young girls, I sealed my fate for the upcoming year. Jennifer my sister had missed her cue, and flubbed up her part in the routine they were practicing. Of course, being a good brother I pointed that out to the whole place, rather loudly. The other mothers and daughters all turned my way at my outburst. The resulting slap on my shoulder showed just how much my Mother disapproved of my comment.

I was yanked from my seat and with my feet only touching the ground once or twice I was rather forcibly taken out to the car. Mom is rather formidable, at five foot ten inches tall and around one hundred fifty pounds what she says goes. All the people in the dance studio witnessed my ejection, the young girls giggling the mothers all with smiles on their faces. I kept quiet, Mom seldom acts like this, I seem to have pushed all the wrong buttons this time.

I was sat in the car and told to keep my mouth shut until the lesson is over. Mom returning to the studio to watch her daughter. I figured I had crossed over the line, knowing that when we got home I would hear a lot more on this subject. That was pure torture, sitting there knowing I was going to feel her wrath, but having no clue in what way. Half an hour later Jennifer and Mom came out and we drove home in silence. I was sent to my room and told to stay there until Dad got home. Now I was worried, if Mom was involving Dad in my punishment she was more than just angry at my outburst.

I should have known better, being sixteen and a high school junior you would think that I would have learned that sometimes it is just better to think the thoughts than to speak them. Knowing better and doing what is right sometimes just don’t match. In my case, that axiom was seldom listened to or used, especially recently. In the last year I have been in trouble with my parents more times than I care to remember. Again a lot of the trouble was my big mouth and what managed to escape my lips. Most of the time I was lectured, but no punishment was issued. I had a bad feeling that today that might not be the case.

I was not called to dinner, another bad sign. I could hear Mom and Dad talking in their room, although exactly what was being said was muffled. When bedtime came I stripped off my clothes and slipped under the covers. I had no ambition to face either of them, preferring to take my chances in the morning. My stomach grumbled a couple of times, but soon I was asleep dreaming of the upcoming soccer game tomorrow. I hoped my loud mouth and recent outburst would not cause me to miss out on the game.

In the morning I cautiously made my way downstairs to the kitchen, then after entering I just about went back to my room. There at the table was both Mom and Dad apparently waiting for their son, no smiles, no greetings, nothing. Dad pointed to a chair between them and I promptly sat down. Dad started the conversation asking what caused me to make such a stupid remark, then do it in a crowded dance class. I lowered my head, my feet suddenly of interest to me. I was wise enough to keep quiet, a small miracle, considering my recent past behavior. Mom just stared at me, a smirk on her face knowing something that I was not made aware of yet.

“We will allow you to go to your game today, but after that things will change drastically. Consider yourself grounded for the future, this last debacle just the most recent in a long line of misbehaving. When I say grounded I mean other than school, your soccer game and dance class you will not go anywhere without one of us present. Your behavior is totally unacceptable and your punishment will reflect this. Your breakfast is cereal and milk, no lunch and depending on your attitude today there may not be much if any dinner. I highly suggest that you jump to do as you are told today, no matter how silly you think it may be. Now eat your breakfast and go with your Mother to your room, the first changes start this morning.”

I missed the meaning of my dance class, a point that was reinforced later in the day. I tried to make breakfast last far longer than it normally would, but Mother finally dragged me from my seat and to my bedroom. There to my horror was a pair of tights and a leotard, just like what Jennifer wears for dance class. I was told to strip, when Mom started my way I instantly complied, blushing from head to toe as I did so. It had been years since Mom had seen me totally naked, the thought of it happening now had me red in the face before the first item of clothing left my body.

I was handed an undergarment and told to put it on. My male organ was in retreat, all of this way more than he could handle. The garment fit real tight, as I was told to push my male bits back between my legs. I hesitated doing this not sure what she wanted, well Mom was in no mood for any further delays. She grabbed my penis and pushed back hard between my legs letting the garment snap in place as she released it. It didn’t hurt especially, but having it done to me was quite embarrassing. Glancing at what she had done I was completely smooth down there just like any female would be. Another red pulse swept over me, leaving me embarrassed to the hilt. I was curious as to what this was leading up to, the only ideas I had were not ones that I wanted to experience in this or any other lifetime.

Curious but not stupid, I remained quiet as a mouse. If only I had used some restraint yesterday, maybe this would not be necessary. Apparently the remark yesterday caused all of the other misdeeds to get added together, now my punishment will address all of my past instances of disturbance. The lectures now to be backed up with some type of punishment to make me aware of the seriousness of my continued refusal to abide by their rules and wishes.

The leotard and tights were next, stretching to fit tightly to my body. I was scared, this was before my game, maybe I won’t be allowed to play after all. Mom turned me around, I had turned away from her when the last two items were handed to me to put on, taking a brush to my hair, fluffing it up to fall around my face. Then to cap off the horrible morning I was experiencing she added lipstick to my lips. I was dragged to her bedroom to stand in front of her full length mirror to see the new and improved me. I was shocked, a young girl’s image was all I saw, a female ready for her dance class. I was sent down the stairs to the living room to await my fate. I did manage to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to do anything that would cause me to miss my game today. I sat in a chair, very aware of my new clothes and the feelings they were causing. The smooth feel of my legs in the tights, the tight fit of the leotard in my crotch were things I had never experienced before and they were playing havoc with my thoughts. Then you have the lipstick on my lips, smooth and creamy, my tongue gliding over it with ease.

Dad came through to check my appearance, looked me over but didn’t say anything to me. Sis did the same, unlike me she just gave me a casual glance then went about getting herself ready for her dance class later today. If only I had kept my mouth shut, now I am in deep doo-doo, no telling what they have planned for me. It was getting closer to the time when we usually leave for my game, I was in full panic mode, still in the leotard and tights, things not looking good right now for me to be able to play.

Finally Mom came down the stairs with my usual jeans and sweat shirt. I breathed a sigh of relief, back in my normal clothes the day is not lost yet. She used a makeup wipe to remove my lipstick, then brushed my hair into a high ponytail and secured it with a scrunchie. I usually used a rubber band, much more masculine than a scrunchie, this one particularly noticeable since it was a shade of Burgundy. I was allowed to slip into my jeans and sweatshirt, though the leotard and tights remained on my body. I donned the clothes reluctantly looking down often to see if any of it showed, visions of being exposed running rampant through my brain. I slipped on my tennis shoes, then ran to the mirror in the hall to see if I still looked like a boy. I am sure the jury would be out on that for quite some time. Mom stood behind me, “you either go out this way or you miss your game and go directly to dance class.”

Oh shit, I was not sure about any of this now. Do I risk it to play in the game, or do I play it safe? I wanted to play so bad, I decided to go to the game and take my chances. We drove to the game, then I suddenly remembered I still had on the tights and leotard. I normally play in shorts and a t-shirt, so how do I change and get in my regular clothes for the game. I quietly asked Mom how I can change, her answer quite startling. I didn’t bring your shorts and t-shirt, you can play in your tights and leotard. As I decided that I didn’t want to play anymore we pulled up to the soccer field. I was quickly mobbed by my friends, and dragged from the car.

Our coach had a little meeting before the game, he changed a few of our positions to try and take advantage of our opponent’s weaknesses. Unfortunately, for me I was placed in the starting lineup. I debated on what to do, but insanity won out and I stripped out of my jeans and sweat shirt. It took a few moments for everybody to become aware of my attire, everybody staring at me, making me aware that no one had missed what I was now wearing. I tried to brave it out, assuming my position on the field and hoping the game would start real soon. It took a while for the game to get underway, in the meantime I did receive a few wolf whistles and the comment that I had nice legs. Right from the start the opponents seemed to aim for me, the ball coming towards me with only me to stop or delay the attack.

Like my Sis I flubbed it up big time, trying to kick the ball away, I slipped and fell flat on my ass. Luckily for me our goalie was able to deflect the attempt, keeping them from making a score. I was totally red, the embarrassment was too much, I ran off the field, head down and went to our car. Before I got to the car I was shedding tears. Life is so unfair, and today it all seemed to be happening to me.

Not even Sis made a comment about my flub, it was such an easy play, I had totally screwed up landing on my ass in the end.

My parents and Sis joined me, after a brief conference with our coach. We then went to her dance class, the ride there in total silence. I just sat there crying a little, I tried to find anyone to blame, but I realized it was my fault, so concerned about my appearance that I failed to pay attention to the game.

When we arrived I was escorted into the dance studio by Mom, who introduced me to the teacher. To my horror I was now enrolled as a student in the same class as my sister. I was given a tutu to slip over my tights, a sign of a newbie in the class. The teacher took me over to the corner, since it was still early for the regular class to start and taught me a few things that the class had already learned. I went through the steps like she showed me, a smile coming to her face when she watched me do the required steps. I was so depressed, all of this way more than I figured I deserved but doing something kept me from running screaming from the class, surely things could not get much worse. Famous last words, I was reminded of that phrase quite often in the next hour.

The teacher introduced me to the class, my name announced as Kara. All the girls came to welcome me to the class, while all I wanted to do was to fade into the woodwork. The teacher used me at the front of the class to show the move she wanted. Then had the class do the move as instructed. The fact that it took her a couple of times to get me to do the move correctly was ignored. There was quite a bit of tittering as the girls in the class watched me struggle to learn the moves. Why I made an attempt to learn the moves will always remain a mystery. It was something to occupy my mind, but learning to dance in ballet not a young males fondest wish.

At the end of the class, the teacher announced the end of the year recital, where all members of the class will do a solo number for all of the parents. The moan that escaped my mouth was heard by quite a few girls and their parents, the resulting giggles heard in response to my moan of despair. After the class was dismissed I was mobbed by the girls in the class, wanting to know if I enjoyed the class, and what part I wanted in the recital at the end of summer. I tried to evade answering the questions, their excitement at having another girl in the class spreading quickly. I was good, not saying much, trying desperately to answer with only a word or two. If only I could fade into the woodwork my preferred avenue of escape.

The truth in the matter was that I was accepted as a fellow dance class member unequivocally, they just wanted to share their excitement with me. I was quiet on the way home, not knowing what to say or think. I initially thought I would hate the dance class, but a lot of the things I learned I was proud of. Sis hugged me as we entered the house, telling me she was glad I was in the class with her. After I had pointed out her mistake so boisterously, in turn she was glad I was dancing with her. At my game she saw my flub, but said nothing, a much better and more adult response than I had indulged in previously with regards to her.

I was stopped on the way to my room, my parents pointing to a chair in the living room. “We talked to your coach, and explained why you were wearing tights and leotards. He will welcome you back to the soccer team if you want to. Unfortunately, if you accept it will be as a female. They do have a couple of girls playing on other teams in the league, so you will not be the only one. Personally I think you getting disgusted and walking off the field shows quite a bit of immaturity. Maybe a couple of nights in a diaper might encourage you to behave in a more responsible manner. Now as to your other changes.”

“Until school starts again you will wear female clothes all the time, primarily tights and leotards, but with a skirt or blouse over the two items. Makeup will be required, lipstick and mascara for sure, and other items depending on the occasion. Hair in a high ponytail as long as you behave, the first instance of further trouble and you will receive a curly permanent for the duration. When school resumes we will evaluate your behavior, no trouble and you will be able to attend as a male. Otherwise you will be Kara for the duration. Do you understand the reasons for these corrective measures? I sincerely hope you do, or it will be a long frustrating summer for you.”

I did manage a subdued yes to her question. I decided right then to give in totally, this was bad enough, school as a female way too much to even contemplate. That would be an unqualified disaster. Maybe I can get used to some of this, to make things a little easier to accept. I sure hope so.

I was hoping that the remark about the diaper might be forgotten, so I was real good all evening, I even helped wash the dishes, something I have never participated in before. Mom’s remark as I dried my hands left me speechless. Since you helped with the dishes, you can consider that one of your chores for the duration. Now come with me, we have to get you ready for bed. Oh gawd no came out of my mouth as I tried to retreat from her grasp. Too late, she grabbed a hold of my wrist and I was dragged off to my bedroom. She grabbed a bag that was outside of her room as we passed the door then settled me onto my bed. My leotard was unhooked in the crotch, then my tights were pulled down around my knees.

Out of the bag she removed some type of wipe and proceeded to clean my groin and butt. Several times I tried to stop her, but the look I received back and her swatting my behind convinced me that maybe laying still might be best. I pleaded for her to allow me to go the bathroom before she put the diaper on me, well that went over like a lead balloon.

“That is the purpose of the diaper, to keep you from making a mess in your new bed. My eyes got huge and I looked around looking for what she was talking about. Over in the corner near the window was a large crib, my apparent destination for tonight. While I was concerned with my new bed, she had managed to get me diapered, the many folds of material in my crotch very uncomfortable. I knew I would not be able to last the night, I needed to pee now and my usual routine for number two was to go in the evening before I went to bed. Imminent disaster either way.

A pair of plastic panties was pulled up and smoothed in place. I was planning to wait until I was put in bed, then take off my diaper and use the bathroom. Put it back on and no one would be the wiser. Well best laid plans seldom come together. Mittens were placed over my hands, the wrist strap keeping them there in place. My fingers now useless. I was taken over to my new bed, and helped up into it. A strap was placed across my waist keeping me secured to the new bed. Then from behind the crib a lid was raised so that I was now secure in my new bed. Then Mom played dirty bringing me a large baby bottle, and hanging it from a sling attached to the lid. She pushed the nipple into my mouth, and told me to drink up. If it is not empty before she goes to bed she will make sure I receive another one.

“Next time you think about walking away in disgust leaving your team in the lurch, remember tonight. We will repeat this scenario a couple of more times to make sure you have learned your lesson. Just think how smart and well-adjusted our little girl is going to be after she learns to dance and does her solo before all those parents and fellow classmates. I suggest you get behind this enthusiastically, or I might be persuaded to make you my full time daughter in real life. I am leaning that way already, an older daughter to shop with and teach about all things female.”

I did make a mess in my diapers that night, and had to smell it until morning. As Mom undid the strap across my waist, I tried to get down off the crib. Mom stopped me there, and removed my diaper and cleaned my behind. It smelled real bad, the baby powder she used did help some with the smell. Unfortunately, I had to pee again so I begged her to let me use the bathroom. She smiled and secured the new diaper at my sides. The plastic panties were brought up again and I was led downstairs to the kitchen.

Everyone else was there, sis looked but said nothing however Dad asked if I enjoyed last night. I had learned part of my lesson, keeping quiet at all costs. Mom handed me a bottle of warm milk and watched to make sure I started on it. The combination of the additional liquid and the warmness had me peeing within minutes. I was so embarrassed, my face and body now bright red. I had to sit there until the bottle was finished, even as a few pictures were taken of me. Just great, now I could be shamed in an instant by just showing anyone the pictures of me in a diaper and drinking out of a baby bottle.

If that wasn’t bad enough I was taken to the living room and placed in a playpen, wet diaper and all. Mom finished off the punishment as she shoved a pacifier into my mouth. By lunch I had wet my diaper again, I pleaded with Mom to change me and let me dress as a female again. With her phone taking a video I had to repeat that plea, then she took me upstairs to change me. I was so happy to get out of the wet diaper, then I saw the little girl’s dress I was going to wear this afternoon. I bit my tongue, I did ask for this, but did she have to make it so humiliating for me.

Panties, hair in twin pigtails tied off with ribbons, I was made up with lipstick and mascara then a pair of Mary Janes were slipped on my feet. I was planning to retreat to my room to hide for the rest of the day, but instead Mom gathered her things and dragged me to her car. When we pulled into the local mall I was in full panic mode. I pleaded with her, she can’t do this to me, but as my feet entered the mall I knew she was not listening to me at all. Up and down the mall, visiting every store that sold female clothes and accessories. So far I had escaped detection, successfully not running into any of my friends.

Even good luck eventually runs out, coming right toward us is Marilyn, our next door neighbor’s daughter. She is in all of my classes and visits sis quite often. I had not been around her that much, but we had talked often at school. She walks right up to Mom gives her a hug and then stares at me. I knew the light would come on soon, and sure enough she leaned over to me and complimented me on the pretty dress. I was in shock, my whole life just flashed in front of me, if this gets around I am totally doomed.

Of course Mom sees to it that I am further embarrassed as she asks Marilyn to keep an eye on me as she uses the restroom. Marilyn takes my hand and leads me to a bench in the middle of the mall. We set down and she asks me if this is how I will be dressing in the future. I freeze up, not sure what exactly to tell her. I have no idea how long this punishment will last, and I definitely do not want to piss Mom off more than she is. She leans in closer, telling me that she likes me this way, I am much nicer as a female than as a male.

Mom reappears and asks Marilyn if she can babysit me later today. I look at Mom, fear and dread in my face. Marilyn says sure, what time do you want me there. It was arranged for four o’clock, both Mom and Dad wanted to see a new movie in town and now that I had a baby sitter they could go and not feel guilty. I pleaded with Mom, surely I am old enough to watch after myself. She looked at my dress and then at the diapers peeking out from underneath the panties I was wearing. I am sure Marilyn will watch after you, besides you will need someone to change your diaper for you. That remark cut right through me, diapers apparently with me for more than a few days.

Back at home I was stripped out of my little girl clothes and my diaper changed. The mitts back on my hands and placed in the crib. Then another bottle was given to me, Mom insisting that it be empty before they left for the movie. I was so depressed, Marilyn will now see me as a baby, and probably have to change my diaper. It just can’t get any worse.

It wasn’t long until my baby sitter showed up, she was almost bouncing as she came into my room. I got hugged, then to my horror another damn bottle of warm milk was put into my mouth. She held it there, Mom standing behind her telling me to hurry and finish the bottle. Before I could get half of it down I was peeing into the diaper. I sure hope this baby treatment doesn’t last much longer, if it does I may end up back in kindergarten again, well that is if I manage to get out of pre-school.

Marilyn had lots of fun with me that night, she braided my hair, redid my makeup and changed my diaper twice. I have never seen someone have as much fun as she had changing my diaper. I was cleaned, powdered and tucked securely in a double diaper. There was so much between my legs it was impossible to get them to touch each other. Of course, with all the warm milk I drowned them too, making Marilyn quite happy. When Mom and Dad made it back, I was sitting in the playpen, a teddy bear in my mittened hands and bedecked in pigtails with ribbon bows at the ends. Mom got the camera right away, more blackmail material for later. Way too good of a picture to not take advantage of.

Then to my continued horror, Mom arranged for Marilyn to babysit me twice more later in the week. After Marilyn went home I pleaded with Mom to allow me to be home alone. I pointed out my age, no one sixteen years of age needs a babysitter. Mom giggled but gave me an incredulous look. I don’t see anyone that old here, there is just your sister and you. I grant you are a little large for your age, but there is no way you are older than ten, the fact that you are still not potty trained requires you to have a babysitter. Now no more foolishness, time for me to get you ready for bed.

I did cry some on the way to my bedroom, so unfair, each day it just gets worse. In diapers at night, dresses during the day, and enrolled in a girl’s dance class. As Mom was changing me I tried to reason with her, actually I was now begging her to allow me to dress as a female every day. Anything to get out of this diaper downward spiral. Another performance for Mom’s phone, my pleading recorded to play back later if I didn’t remember all of my statement.

The next morning I got out of the diapers, but at quite a cost. Frilly panties, followed by the tights and leotard, then covered by a mini skirt and lacy blouse. The final humiliation was a pair of heels, with an ankle strap to keep them on my feet. Not too bad an outfit for around the house, but of course Mom had other ideas.

Sis and I were loaded up in the car and she drove us to a beauty salon. As she parked in the parking lot, I was in total panic mode. I could see all kinds of possibilities, and I wanted nothing to do with any of them. Mom gave me a look, then reached for my hand. I hesitated then she mentioned the diapers and I instantly grabbed her hand. I will take my chances in the beauty salon, a much better option than being encased in wet smelly diapers all the time.

Led into the salon I actually managed to get off easy for my first time in a beauty salon. My hair was washed and conditioned and then cut into a rather feminine hairstyle including a cute set of bangs. I received highlights in my hair, not familiar with what they were until I saw the blonde highlights among my brunette tresses. I received long eyelashes glued to my own, their effect quite devastating to my male persona. Then the ultimate embarrassment for a male. My thingy glued back between my legs and a female looking sex glued over the top. I was told it would help with my presentation in dance class.

As I left the salon I was so depressed, my stupid mouth the cause of all of this. Two more months of summer before school starts again and my only choice is a life as a young girl. When we got home I went to my bedroom, removed my dress and crawled into bed. I knew Mom would be up to put me into diapers, but I just couldn’t stand to be with others with what happened today. Looks wise I was now a female, even more girly that Sis. Mom came in and sat by the side of my bed and reached over and hugged me. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her tighter and sobbed for what seemed hours.

“Let me explain my thinking to you. I am sure you have learned your lesson, although a few more reminders might be prudent still. You are going to finish the dance class this summer, that is a fact. To do so without leaving yourself open to lots of kidding and humiliation, a more feminine appearance might be appropriate. That I have furnished today. If you will embrace your inner female, I think you will find it pleasant and even enjoyable. Talk with your sister for a change, listen to her and maybe indulge in some of her activities. Then make up your mind about the rest of summer. Bored, depressed and miserable or having fun and enjoying life for a change, those are your choices.”

She did put me in a diaper, but suggested that I go to the bathroom first and then during the night every time I got up. The diaper was one with tabs, something I could handle myself. I did get a kiss on the nose and a much appreciated long hug. I laid awake for a long time thinking about what Mom said, deciding I will ask Sis for help in the morning. Just a little while later I was dreaming, of feminine things and dancing. I awoke needing to go to the bathroom, but was able to get there in time. Maybe I will be able to progress from diapers to panties, all hope is not lost yet.

When I cornered Sis the next morning she was smiling, I think she knew what I was up to, but remained silent as I asked her if I could play with her, doing some of the things she does with her. Still quiet as a mouse I begged her to let me participate in her life. She giggled then hugged me tightly. My hand was grabbed and I was led off, a session with her dolls for my introduction to the life of a young female. After I relaxed, playing with her dolls was not that bad, not realizing until we stopped for lunch that I had been immersed in that activity for over two hours.

After lunch it was dress up time, a lot of Sis’s older clothes fitting me just fine. Sis was more like Mom, rather tall but very thin and well proportioned. She was developing the female curves that all young females do, but not showing much sign of breasts yet. Her hips were developing, a fact that sis was not over excited about. Since I was small for my age, her older clothes were a perfect fit. Unfortunately her choice of clothing earlier in life were very girly, dresses with billowy skirts and loads of lace and ribbons.

Mom did check on us regularly, her smile and giggles watching her son having fun dressed as a young girl playing with his sister. I did have fun with Sis, giggling and acting just like her most of the afternoon. It was actually fun when I allowed myself to forget I was a boy. Most of the clothes looked good on me, the image in the mirror that of a feminine girl having fun with her sister.

I did get two more evenings in diapers, the same time Marilyn was due to babysit me. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but having Marilyn look after me was not that bad, I got a lot of kisses, hugs and was able to cuddle with her for short naps during her time with me. I was still embarrassed when she changed my diapers, but I guess that being with her eventually won out. I did get her undivided personal attention during her time with me, hair curled, makeup and lots of dresses tried on during the four hours she baby sitted me.

Dance class was now looked forward to, Sis and I practicing our moves in preparation for the recital at the end of the summer. I never did go back to soccer, I presume my interests changed, now looking my best, makeup just right and my hair styled to perfection much more important to me that some dumb soccer game. I did manage to get Mom to let me have a permanent, curls look so good on me, the big below the shoulder curls helping me to look extra feminine.

The recital went off without a hitch, both Sis and I performing our routines to perfection. In fact the whole class did outstanding, a nearly perfect performance by every student. We had a party afterwards each of the girls excited to have performed well, jumping around and hugging each other. I joined in, wondering if I will be allowed to attend dance class during the school year. Sis and I were eventually led off, Mom and Dad wanting to take us out to eat as a reward for our dedication and drive to excel. It was at this dinner when Mom asked me if I wanted to go to school as a girl or become a boy again. There was no thinking required as I said girl before she even finished the sentence.

Mom had thought that would be my response, telling both Sis and I that we are enrolled in a girl’s school for the upcoming year. They offer dance as part of the curriculum and the same teacher we had for the summer will be our instructor. Sis and I attacked them kissing them and thanking them for thinking of us. While Sis was working on Mom, I laid a kiss on Dad holding him tight in a hug and thanking him for being so good to me.

The red lip print on his cheek was very obvious, Mom reaching over to use a Kleenex to wipe part of it off. Well that will not be acceptable as both Sis and I attacked leaving red lip prints on each of his cheeks. There that is much better. Mom just set there giggling, telling Dad to pay the check as his girls had to use the bathroom. We did our business, repaired our makeup and met Dad at the door. The drive home was filled with tales of our performances and talk about our upcoming year at a girl’s school.

Marilyn and I have remained friends, even to the point of me wearing diapers for her on occasion. I am sure we will stay together, it is just a matter of time before we move in together. We are so much alike, sharing in our interests and love of each other. Besides Marilyn needs someone to be her baby and I am perfect for the job. She wants to finish college and I want to spend the time with Mom being her spoiled daughter.

Yep, Kara as a dance diva was the right way to go, I just wish I had acted up earlier in life. I missed so much fun, but I will make up for it packing every female experience I can manage into the next few years. Sis has vowed to help, and I know Mom will help when necessary. She loves her daughters, especially her oldest daughter, the dance diva.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca