Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

My girlfriend was quite the business woman, owning several fashion related businesses. Her latest acquisition had cut into some of our together time and I was whining about it. She handled the complaint as she normally does, a sensual kiss that turned my mind to mush as she rubbed my male appendage with her hand. Two weeks later I was back to whining, she had spent the last five days at her new business, leaving me alone at my apartment.

We both were spoiled brats, our parents providing each of us with everything we requested as we grew up. Then when we graduated college a huge trust fund to handle most anything we might want in the years to come. The trust fund provided so much every month, to be deposited into our checking accounts. Jobs were not needed, we had no needs that we could not obtain ourselves. That is how she had acquired her businesses, each one researched and after careful consideration bought for a song. The businesses all had been in trouble financially, so the expense in buying them was minimal.

Where I was content to waste my time on the internet and play an inordinate amount of time on video games, Kayla wanted something to occupy her time, something to do with her free time. Each business she tackled was turned around by her, profitability returned to the business within the first few months.

I was the one suffering, of acute Kaylaitis. I pleaded with her, I begged her for some of her time, making a royal ass of myself in the process. Finally she had enough of my persistent whining telling, me she would pick me up at ten the next morning and I could hang with her for the rest of the day. She was truthful with me letting me know she was still going in to the business, but with a little luck she would be finished about three in the afternoon, leaving the rest of the day just for us.

That was better than nothing so I quickly agreed to her plan. When she pulled up in front of the store my mouth was open in awe. It was a sissy store, part of a national chain that I had read about, with her buying the local franchise of it. I followed her in, and she sat about getting the lights on and the store open. I found a love seat over in the corner and made myself comfortable. Kayla was setting up a display, having a photographer coming in right after lunch to take some pictures for an ad she was planning to run in the local newspaper.

The whole idea of her owning a sissy store left me a little unsure. This is a side of her I have never seen before. So I did what any red blooded male might do and retreated to a safe spot and observed. I was quiet the whole morning only speaking to her when she asked me to go down a couple of stores and get each of us a tea. The sweet shop had candies and assorted tempting treats along with coffee, tea and other beverages. I ordered two cups of tea and waited for them to be prepared. Returning to Kayla’s store I did as she requested, giving her a cup of tea when she had finished with a customer, quickly retreating to my safe spot and sipping my tea.

Several customers showed up during the morning, a couple of ladies by themselves shopping for their sissies. I was listening to them talk with Kayla, the conversations most interesting. Then a mother dragging her teenage son with her right before lunch. She picked out a couple of dresses for him, as he tried to shrink into the chair he had positioned himself on. He was dragged to the dressing room and soon emerged wearing one of the dresses. To say he looked different would be quite an understatement. The dress was so frilly and juvenile, he now looked like he was a member of a kindergarten class, although a little bigger size wise than most of his classmates. With his hair in a ponytail the look was almost complete.

He was obviously embarrassed, trying to hide behind his Mom. Kayla helped adjust the dress a little better on him then suggested some panties and shoes that would complete the look Mom was after. Mom agreed, the boy soon wearing the panties and shoes as Mom paid for his clothes. I noticed that the mother had left his clothes in the waste bin at the register, his dress apparently the new mode of fashion for him.

Kayla’s sales help came in right before lunch, they conferred for a few minutes then Kayla came to get me so we could grab some lunch. We walked a few blocks to a fast food place, ordered then found a spot on their patio to sit and eat our lunch. I did notice Kayla looking at me a little more closely, a cute little smirk appearing on her face. I tried to ignore her attention, not wanting to inquire about the smirk and what it might mean for me.

We made it back to the store, Laney her sales help telling her that the model for the photographer had called in sick, not able to make it, since she was throwing up every few minutes. Kayla called the photographer and postponed the photo shoot until five, when the store would be closed. She took her phone and started calling a few people, presumably ones that she had talked to about modeling her outfits. An hour later she sat down in the stockroom disgusted and depressed. I could see she was in deep thought than that smirk again as she was looking my way. I got up to take a walk, and made it as far as the front door of the store. Kayla grabbed a hand and dragged me back to the stockroom and sat me on some boxes of clothing that had come in that afternoon. She was quiet for a minute, figuring out what to say.

I knew I was in deep do do, but was at a loss as what to do or say to avoid what I was sure was coming. It didn’t take much intellect to figure out what she had in mind. The fact that I was not much taller than her and quite thin made her idea quite plausible. I thought back to the teenage boy that had been dressed as a sissy and shuddered. That boy was just a little thinner than me, and probably the same height. I had allowed my hair to grow down to my shoulders, and wore it in a low ponytail. A fact that now might fit in perfectly with her proposed plans.

She wasted no time in coercing me to help her, along with her pleas her stroking my male equipment and her kisses to my face and ears were making thinking difficult. I didn’t tell her no, but I also didn’t agree to do as she wanted. When she relented some I looked down at my body and discovered I was naked. She had managed to get me undressed stashing my clothes somewhere. Laney had closed down the store and register, wanting to know if Kayla needed her to do anything else. As she surveyed my naked body she giggled, then hugged Kayla and left. As she closed the door and locked it the photographer had showed up and she let her in, yelling to Kayla that the photographer was here. Kayla left me for a few minutes to show the photographer where to set up, then returned with a handful of clothes apparently for me.

My body was carefully appraised, then she went to a cabinet and removed an electric shaver. My little bit of body hair was quickly removed, then she grabbed a brush and brushed out my hair after removing the scrunchie that held it in the ponytail.

Still naked I had given up resisting her efforts, figuring the sooner I cooperate the sooner that I can return to my male persona. I was not looking forward to any of this, far from it. What male would want to wear a frilly dress and pose for pictures in front of a lady photographer.

The panties were first, a frilly pair with rows of lace on the rear portion of the panties. Kayla called them rumba panties. They were silky, and fit way too good. Snug in the crouch, and caressing my body with their silky embrace. Kayla came up to me, reached into the front of the panties and grabbed junior and pushed him back between my legs. When she released the panties they kept him secured there, a flat front now on that portion of my body. It was a little uncomfortable, but the dainty slip and dress that was slid over my head caused me to focus on how I looked now. I looked in a mirror a few feet away, the juvenile look of a pretty sissy the only image I could see. Kayla added some lipstick to my lips, then dragged me out to the display that she had set up earlier.

I took a look at it, not really paying any attention earlier when she was setting it up. A huge teddy bear was on one side of the display, a life size doll dressed like me on the other side of the display. Each one was held by me as hundreds of pictures were taken, the photographer wanting me to kiss the bear and doll, and hug it tight to my body.

I was blushing at doing something so girly, I am sure making the pictures that much more humiliating. I was later to learn that is a key part of being a sissy, actions and clothes all designed to humiliate the sissy, and make them dependent on an adult to take care of them.

The evening wore on, with me having to change into at least fifteen different dresses, each one frillier and daintier than the last. The photographer must have taken at least a thousand pictures of me each one showing only a sissy. My hair was brushed different ways, each one emphasizing the sissy image. I got a set of pigtails for some pictures and even one with my hair in curlers while I was wearing a nightie. That luckily was one of the last pictures she took of me. Sometime during the evening I was referred to as Jenny, my apparent sissy name now.

While Kayla and the photographer discussed the photo shoot I sat back on the pile of boxes, waiting for her to finish. I thought of what all of this meant to me, the fact that I could be easily recognized from the pictures taken of me today worried me quire a bit. If Kayla ran this ad in the local newspaper I would be a laughing stock in a very short time.

If I refused to let her use these pictures I doubt there will be much future for us as a couple. Of course refusing to let her use the pictures is such a laugh, here I sit in a child’s nightie with my hair in curlers and wearing makeup. Not exactly the epitome of a strong no nonsense male. Luckily for me there was not a job involved on my part, I can see how ridiculous that might turn out.

Kayla returned grabbing my hand and after picking up her purse led me out of the store to her car. All the time I was trying to escape her, looking right and left to see if someone was looking at me. I asked about my clothes, my wallet and ID still in my pants pocket. She informed me she had my wallet, but the remainder of my clothes are in the trash. No further need for any ID, a sissy named Jenny not requiring any. She did get me in her car, the passenger seat where I was placed. I slumped down in the seat not wanting to be seen by anyone. She fastened my seat belt like you would a child, forcing me to sit up some. I received a kiss on my cheek and she came around to the driver’s side and got in. I breathed a sigh of relief, figuring we were on the way to our home.

Wrong, she pulled into a drive thru, ordering us some food, then after paying and receiving the food she drove over to a near by park. She parked in a spot, overlooking the lake and proceeded to feed me my dinner. I tried more than once to feed myself but was scolded vigorously. Finally I placed my hands on my lap and let her have her way. She used a wet napkin to clean my face, then reapplied some lipstick to my face.

Several people passed by my side of the car, looking in as they passed. No outright laughing but I heard a giggle or two and several turned around so they could get a better look at me as they went down to the lake. Kayla asked if I wanted to go down to the lake, there were several children there and she was sure I would be welcome to play with them.

I looked at her with sheer panic etched on my face. Kayla meanwhile giggling at my facial expressions. She did resume the drive home, once in sight I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I was taken into the house, then straight to her second bedroom. As she opened the door my mouth opened in awe, a super frilly girl’s room was all I saw. I tried to grab the door jamb as she led me into the room. She reached for my thingy and soon I was led over to the bed. She gave me a sizzling kiss, then laid me down on the sheets. She reached for something on each side of me, fastening them together over my waist. I looked down to see what she had done, figuring I could easily unfasten them after she had left. She removed my rumba panties, washed my thingy real good and then slid a diaper under my butt. This was done while she played with my thingy, as I raised my butt up off the bed so she would caress it some more. It was pinned tightly to my body, then a second pair of panties was slid over it. As she slid them up my leg they crinkled some, with me finally realizing they were plastic panties to keep my diaper from leaking. Of course I was beet red, not able to utter any protest to Kayla. Way too much for me to get a grip on, much less figure out what to do about it. Then she removed a pair of mittens and slid them on to my hands. They were finger less, just one pocket for my hand. They had a strap that fastened around my wrist keeping them from being removed. I tried to wiggle my fingers, but the mittens would not allow that movement. She slid a blindfold over my eyes, then raised my nightie up to my neck. She squeezed my nipples some, getting them erect and standing out, then fastened something on to the erect nipple. I felt the pressure from whatever she had attached to them but it was not painful. She pulled the nightie back down after tightening the strap holding me to the bed. Tucking the sheets tightly under my body. I was now trapped in the sheets unable to move or do anything to free myself. I was blind now, listening carefully to see if Kayla was going to do anything else to me. I was kissed on the tip of my nose. Then she left the room, apparently turning out the light as she left. The room seemed to get darker, as my eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the blindfold.

Why I had let her truss me up like this, never saying a word to her in protest. I suddenly felt the need to pee, moaning out loud trying to get her attention. I finally realized that was the reason for the diaper, she had no intention of releasing me to go to the bathroom. I held out as long as I could, but the urge was greater than my willpower. I flooded the diaper, then thought of how I would have to wait until the morning before I could be changed. I did succumb to sleep, not able to free myself from my sheet prison, muck less remove the strap holding me down to the bed.

The next morning Kayla woke me with another kiss to my nose, then felt the diaper to see if I had been forced to use it. She smiled, then started releasing me from the bed. After waking up from my sleep, I started to ask her about why she was doing this, but her finger on my lips implied that I was not to talk. She changed my diaper, but slid the rumba panties over the diaper to cover it up. I smelled like a baby now, the amount of powder she used on me enough for several babies. The nightie was removed then she removed the clamps that she had placed on my nipples last night. Once the blood reentered the nipple I was suddenly in severe pain. They stayed erect though as the redness slowly faded away. I move a mittened hand up to touch them, but soon found out they were now super sensitive. Another one of Kayla’s sissy dresses was slid on to my body, then a pair of girls shoes were slipped on to my feet. A collar was attached around my neck, then I was led through the house and out to her car. Being led by a leash attached to my collar, left me confused and bewildered.

I thought about speaking up again, but decided not to, all of this really confusing me about our relationship now. A short while later she pulled up in front of a beauty salon, a few doors down from her sissy shop. She spoke to the receptionist and then someone from the back came to lead me away, the leash used to get me headed in the right direction. I was sat in a chair and leaned back my hair apparently the focus of today’s visit. She washed and conditioned it after removing the curlers from yesterday’s photo shoot. I had forgotten all about them, once I got used to the feel of them as I tried to get to sleep last night. In the mirror I saw my head covered in curls. Even washing my hair didn’t relax the curl. She cut my hair into a feminine style, with bangs I might add. Then she started weaving in longer strands of hair from my bangs all the way to my neck. The longer hair erased any masculinity I might have had left, The hair now a mixture of curls and straight hair. She separated it into little bunches, then wrapped a piece of paper around the bunch then around a smaller curler. This took quite a bit of time to accomplish. Then a smelly liquid was soaked into each curler with me figuring out I was being given a permanent. Another huge sigh, my time as Kayla’s boyfriend now over, a sissy for the foreseeable future. I guess I could put up with it, at least I will still be with her. I kind of zoned out for a while while my permanent was processed.

After another rinse, she combed through my hundreds of curls and then started wrapping them around colored curlers, many different colors depending on where on my head they were used. It had been at least two hours since she started and I was needing to use the bathroom. I started to ask the lady if I could use the bathroom, she looked over to Kayla, who shook her head no. Kayla came over and pushed on my lower stomach and I flooded the diaper. She smiled again and returned to her chair. I never realized she was just a few chairs down from me, my attention only focused on what the lady was doing to my hair.

As my hair was drying under the hair dryer, my nails were worked on, after she removed my mittens, It felt so good to have them off, my fingers flexing in their new found freedom. I received a manicure first, then extensions were added, my nails now extending a half inch past my fingertips. Again I thought of asking why, but silence reined and after the hair dryer shut off I had ten highly polished nails in a pinkish color, my formerly male looking hands now like part of an advertisement for a sissy store.

Then a sudden realization forged to the front of my small brain. Kayla is going to use me as advertisement for her sissy store.

Then back to the new curly hair as the curlers were removed from my hair. Oh gawd, what am I going to do now. I looked like what I imagined a sissy looked like, an exceptional girlish sissy. Not a hint of anything masculine left on my body. My nails, my sissy curls leaving no doubt about my apparent gender.

Kayla was also finished coming over to reclaim her sissy. The leash was reattached and I was led from the salon. A short walk and right into her sissy store. I was taken to the back, my diaper changed them out front to the same display where the photos were taken yesterday. I was positioned in the middle of the display and my leash attached to a beam over the display. She kissed my nose again and then went to take care of other business. I stood up and tried to reach the end of the leash, but my new fingernails prevented me doing anything. I tried where the leash was attached to my collar, the same result. I even tried to undo the collar. but could not find any seam or catch.

There were some customers in the store so soon my appearance was being appraised. They had a frock picked out, asking Kayla if they could see it on the live model. Of course, it was not a problem, my current dress was removed and the new one slipped over my head, right in the middle of the store. I tried to hang on to the dress I was wearing but soon found my hands slapped away, as she made the change. The changing of the dress happened several more times that afternoon, Kayla suggesting it even if the customer did not. Of course having to use the bathroom popped up again, but I knew better that to ask Kayla to free me. A short while later I flooded my diaper again, not even realizing I was doing it. So much for being potty trained, I would imagine I will be totally unable to control myself soon if this keeps up.

It was after five when I was unleashed from my display, and taken to the back. Diaper removed and I was totally washed and cleaned. She had something in her hand when she approached me again, her rubbing my male organ unexpected and bewildering. It was short lived however as she held an ice pack against my thingy, junior shrinking to a mere nubbin. I felt her doing something down there but since everything was still so cold I tried to ignore what was happening. When I did look down there a few minutes later I was shocked, my thingy locked into a male chastity device, the length of it only an inch with my balls locked into a ring snugly behind it.

Again no words spoken from me, just another long sigh, wondering if there was anymore surprises in store for me. I was shedding moisture from my eyes, although I will steadfastly deny that I was crying. Taken to her home, and straight to my new bedroom. The new routine continued on for the next few weeks, staying with Kayla at night and at the sissy store during the day. I now wasn’t even aware when I wet my diaper, the weight of the diaper the only clue to me flooding it yet again. I wore a never ending array of sissy dresses both to model them and also for the customer to see how they looked on a live model. The chastity device stayed on, any attempt to swell up quickly aborted as the points inside of the device dug into my soft flesh.

Then a change in the daily routine, as Kayla took me back to the salon for who knows what. In a private room at the back Kayla sat opposite me and explained what she wanted. She did ask me to listen to her first before I made any comments. First she wanted me to marry her, but the union will not be between husband and wife but between a sissy and her parent. She will see to my care, although the chastity device is permanent. A sissy has no need for any kind of sexual release.

I was to move in with her, sleep with her and she will take care of all of my needs. I will be loved, caressed, and fondled as appropriate for a sissy. The diapers are an another requirement, she loves me being dependent on her for diaper changes, so that is not negotiable.

Sales at the sissy store have soared since I have been there as a model, so that too will continue. She will take extra time to be with me, taking me places dressed as her cute sissy. I will never have to worry about being kept busy, out and about dressed in one of my frilly dresses, at the sissy store or at home with her as she changes my diaper and plays with me.

I hesitated in my response to her, realizing if I accept I will be forever a sissy, diaper dependent and unable to care for myself. I then realized I was already trapped, living the life as she wanted. A sissy for Kayla named Jenny.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Dora; A Dress Dummy

Dora; A Dress Dummy

As I entered the house Linda was still at her sewing machine working on another dress design. I was just getting home from work, two hours later than normal. I knew better than to bother her right now, her hobby means a lot to her. Especially since she now has somebody interested in her dress designs.

So I headed to the kitchen to see what she had planned for dinner, and if it was not started or finished I would see what I could do to complete the task. I found where she had got out the ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs, and smiled. That is something I could handle, having fixed it many times before. An hour later I had it ready to serve, the table set and iced tea chilling in a pitcher. I even managed to make some garlic toast to go with the meal.

I headed to her sewing room, now to coax her out for dinner the next task. She was staring at a dress on her mannequin, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. I managed to sneak up on her, grabbing her in my arms and laying a passionate kiss on her lips. She returned it enthusiastically, then broke out in a fit of giggles. The giggles is because my erstwhile male organ was tenting out my jeans, pushing her skirt up against her. I blushed red, indulging in anything romance wise causes my erection to mobilize. Kissing being at the top of the list.

She grabbed my hand and led me off to the kitchen, hoping that if I got fed things will return to normal. When she saw that I had finished dinner I got another quick kiss, but it was more of a peck and then withdrawal before junior could inflate further. She served up the meal, tasting it as she was putting it on the plates.

“You will make some lucky person a wonderful wife, but you still need to learn to dress a little more provocative to snare a loving spouse.” A huge smile came to her lips and she handed me my plate. Meanwhile, I had poured the iced tea and placed a plate of the garlic toast on the table between us. We ate in silence, both of us apparently quite hungry. I imagine that Linda had skipped lunch, a habit of hers when she is focused on one of her dress designs.

During high school her mother taught her how to sew, a couple of classes in school furthering her interest. She mainly concentrated on dresses, some of her designs quite unique. I was far from an adequate judge on what she designed, but they seemed pretty and functional. Several of the more provocative ones I would love to see Linda wearing, their revealing design quite sexy. A lot of skin would show on whoever was wearing those particular dresses. Alas, she designs them but seldom wears one of her designs out and about for me to enjoy.

A few weeks ago she had sent some sketches off to one of the fashion houses, this particular one located in the U.S. They specialized in custom designs, hand made from their designers to fit the individual customer. She had gotten a letter in return, they wanted to see more sketches and maybe arrange a meeting to see the finished product. Linda was ecstatic, now feverishly trying to fine tune several of her designs, hoping one of them might be what the company would be interested in.

She hauled the dishes to the sink, then grabbed my hand and led me to her sewing room. She pointed to her dress dummy, asking me to take a look at it and see if I could fix it. The adjusting bolts not holding the measurements she had set for the dress. I pulled one of the bolts out, the threads were totally stripped on both the bolt and the hole it went into, so there was no easy way to make it function as intended. She had got in the habit of calling it her dress dummy, since it gave her more trouble than it was worth.

I gave her the bad news, she started to cry, so I held her tightly trying to comfort her. I told her I would buy her a new one, maybe one that was more practical and well made. Through the tears she muttered something about this model is perfect for what she needs, but since it is quite expensive we could not afford a new one right now. This one, a gift from her Mom, the one her Mother had used to make most of Linda’s clothes during school. I finally got her tears stopped, but now was facing her as she stared at me, a smirk coming to her lips. She ran to get her measuring tape and promptly measured me in the chest, waist and hips. I was beginning to get uneasy, this was not proceeding to an outcome I might be happy with.

A loud squeal came from her lips, then she dragged me over next to the dress dummy. My height was compared to what she had the dummy set for, apparently I was fairly close to the proper height. She dragged me over to a sofa and pushed me down, then sat right next to me.

Oh no here it comes, her idea will be explained to me, expecting me to see the benefit of me agreeing to participate, thus solving her problem.

I wish it would be that simple, but I was sure that my involvement in this will be more than just putting on a dress. I decided to keep quiet and see what she specifically had in mind for me. Maybe I have misjudged her and jumped to a hasty conclusion. Yeah sure.

She patiently explained what she had in mind, it was as I figured, she wanted me to fill in for the broken dress dummy, so she could complete her designs. Then if the company liked them and bought the designs she could purchase a new dress dummy, maybe a more expensive model. As she was explaining all of this to me she was undoing the buttons on my shirt, then moved to the zipper on my pants. I was trying to slow the express train down, but feared that it was a hopeless cause. For one thing my male thingy was getting excited, a plus for her, since when he gets involved any reluctance on my part quickly disappears.

It wasn’t but a few minutes later that I was standing there, naked except for a pair of shorts. She quickly grabbed the dress from the dress dummy and proceeded to slip it over my head. As it slid down my body the shivers I received were causing all kinds of new sensations to attack my body and my mind. Besides the huge amount of goose pimples, the feeling of the material on my bare skin was doing wonderful things to my body. She buttoned up the dress, the row of petite buttons running up the back of the dress. She stepped back wanting to see what I looked like, a larger than life smile coming to her face. She ran over to her sewing machine grabbing her purse, then searched inside for something. She returned a few minutes later, then applied a coat of lipstick to my lips. It caught me by surprise, I just stood there allowing her to paint my lips a bright pink. Then over to her work table grabbing her digital camera, to take pictures of her creation on me. After finally realizing what she was doing I tried to avoid the camera. No suck luck, wearing the dress was affecting how I moved, so she had no trouble taking seemingly hundreds of picture of me in her latest design. I finally gave up just standing there staring at her.

She announced that she now had a new dress dummy, one that she would not have to worry about as she worked on her designs. From a normal male to a dress dummy in the span of an hour, who would have guessed that possible. She took one of her notepads and started writing changes on what might be needed to make her dress dummy more functional. She had the best part of a page filled, in no time. Meanwhile, I was still in the dress.

She had me try on one of her heels, squealing when it fit perfectly. A few more pictures were snapped, then she helped me out of the dress, not wasting any chance to stimulate my thingy. A sure way to make sure I will be her dress dummy in the upcoming weeks. Once out of the dress I quickly left her sewing room, the more distance between that room and me the better. I made it to the door realizing I was still wearing her heels. I kicked them off and almost ran out of the room. I heard her on the phone to someone, a squeal or two could be heard from time to time as she talked to them. I knew better than to question her about her squeals, I was relatively sure I would find out way sooner than I thought.

Sure enough a few minutes later she appeared, quickly making her way to my lap. Once perched thereon she laid her head on my chest, kissing my lips seductively and licking her lips. I forgot I still had on the pink lipstick. In a weak moment I told her to let me know what I had to do, the sooner I give in the sooner I might be allowed to return to the male persona.

I was helped up from my chair, led to the bedroom and dressed again in one of her creations. Back in the heels then led to her car and helped into the passenger seat. I let out a huge sigh, hoping the powers to be might be looking out for me. A twenty minute drive and I was helped out of the car and led into her salon. This was not looking favorable at all, maybe my guardian angels were on a vacation, but definitely AWOL never the less. Right when I needed them the most.

Once in a room at the back of the salon one of their techs came in, appraised my body, then helped me out of the dress. My shorts were removed, then deposited in a trash can, apparently I will not be wearing them on the return trip home. The tech and my wife talked for a few minutes, looking my way often. Finally a decision was made and the tech went to retrieve what she needed to make the changes. When she got back she started to explain what she was going to do to me.

Before she got into the explanation, I held up my hand. Do what you need to to make my wife happy, it is alright with me. I was shown some forms I had to sign, I promptly signed them all and gave them back to her. Mean while Linda headed in my direction and gave me one of her patented kisses, then rubbed my thingy and told me she would be back in a couple of hours to take me home. Be good, a dress dummy needs to behave to make its owner proud of it.

Just like that I was alone, the tech leading me over to a table in the room and helping me up on it. My feet were placed in stirrups extending from the end of the table, then she scooted me down some my butt now near the end of the table. A strap was placed across my waist and my hands were attached to the side of the table. I looked at her with concern, she smiled, just relax, a dress dummy has to have some curves added, and your thingy has to be controlled so he does not ruin the female figure you will soon have. It will only take an hour, then we will see about making you more pleasing to the eye.

The breasts were first, two realistic silicone breast forms were glued to my chest in the appropriate place, their weight and constant quivering affecting me greatly. She sprayed something on my groin, losing all feeling down there quickly. She worked down there for the remaining time, finally she held up something for me to see, then laid it over my groin. It was an exact duplicate to Linda’s sex, looking quite realistic. Another ten minutes and she had glued it to my groin, junior now safely hidden behind a female vagina. She assured my thingy will still work, but a few changes had to be made to be able to use it. I couldn’t see how, since he was not even visible.

Going to the bathroom, now would require me to sit. To be able to have sex a dildo or penis had to be used to stimulate my little fella to ejaculate. Once those words were digested by my feeble mind I promptly fainted.

I woke up to water being sprayed on my hair, a thorough washing and conditioning of the hair soon followed. Since I was conscious now, I was moved to a chair where she could cut my hair. Not much was being cut off, my image in the mirror already leaning toward the feminine. A lot of a spray from a bottle was added to my locks, then the hair set in curlers.

Once that was accomplished, she moved to makeup for me. She carefully applied it being extra careful where it was applied and correcting any mistakes quickly. Then my face was sprayed with a fine mist, tingling with a warm feeling being felt almost immediately. I imagine I had just received makeup that would not need to be put on daily, another sigh but too late to do anything about it now. I did remember that I had told her to do as Linda wanted, my words coming back to haunt me now.

I thought about my work, all of this most likely with me for the near future. I could not see me working my job in the female gender, my work colleagues were average, but having to work around them in dresses and heels seemed more than I could probably deal with. So with out a job in the future, that might change things around the house. I did decide to call in sick tomorrow, more thinking needed to be done concerning any continued employment especially considering my new appearance.

So now I guess I am almost ready to assume the duties of Linda’s dress dummy. I just hope that is not a permanent position. Speaking of Linda that is who walked into the front door of the salon. She looked around then spotted me, as she ran to where I was sitting. I was thoroughly appraised, then she parked her tush on my lap. I got several kisses, and a grope or two of my newly acquired female chest enhancements, then she spoke with my tech asking questions about my treatments and my new measurements. Satisfied she left me to browse their clothing store while my hair style was being finished. All of this like it was normal for me to be converted into a female and more importantly a dress dummy.

Hair style finished, with way too many curls to deal with, springing all over the place. Linda made her way to me and gathered me in a hug, then up front so that I could pay for the services after the dress that I wore to the salon was put back on me. Of course, with the enhancements it fit much better. No underwear though, her dress doing nothing to keep my new sex from feeling cold and drafty. Not only did I have to submit to the changes, I had to pay my own way.

I was puzzled though as what my appearance had to do with substituting as her dress dummy. Surely she is not considering having me dressed in her creations out and about. I was taken home, then had to don another of her dresses as she sewed up the hem. One more after that, as she took in the waistline so it fit snug against my skin. This continued the rest of the evening as I spent the time as her dress dummy. Dress after dress was altered to fit me snugly, then a thought began to take hold in my pathetic little brain. Sure enough I was told as she dressed me in one of her nighties for bed, that tomorrow we will be going to the fashion house, her dresses now ready to go and her dress dummy looking appropriate. It was hours before I managed to succumb to sleep, worried about tomorrow and my part in this grand plan of hers.

I was dragged out of bed, and pushed rudely into the bathroom. A quick use of the toilet and then shoved in the shower, a shower cap keeping my hair dry and pristine. I did notice my face in the mirror as I dried off, makeup perfect just like it was applied yesterday. It took Linda a few minutes to brush out my hair, then I was led to our bedroom. I was expecting another dress today, she instead checked my appearance, adding a little rouge to my nipples then slipped on the dress dummy cover that she had from before.

A horn was heard from out front and she went to open the door. I tried to hide in her closet, not wanting anyone to see me like this. I heard talking as I imagined her bags of dresses were being loaded into the limo. Then Linda returned to grab her dress dummy. She whispered to me to to behave, you are nothing but a dress dummy today, so smile and I will take care of everything else. I was literally dragged to our front door, then became a little more cooperative since I did not want to be caught outside like this. The driver sliding me on a dolly then wheeled me to the limo. Not a difficult feat for him since I only weighed a little over a hundred twenty pounds. I was placed in the rear seat next to all of the bags of dresses, like I was just an actual dress dummy. It took awhile to get to the fashion house, since it was on the other side of town.

When we eventually arrived several males came out to gather up the bags of dresses and one reached in and lifted me out, placing me on one of their carts. Myself and the dresses were taken to a conference room and unloaded. I decided to stay motionless, not sure how I would feel if the males discovered I was really a human. The male that lifted me off the cart, straightened my legs then stood me on a dais near the center of the room. He straightened my arms and back so I was in the proper position for a dress dummy. He then reached under my cover and pinched my butt lightly while winking at me then left. I am not sure any dress dummy could match the redness on my face and neck just then. I thought about moving but I heard more voices and decided to continue the deception. Linda and several employees came into the room, looking my way and then smiling. Linda wasted no time in slipping the first dress on me then smoothed it out and pulled up the zipper.

On and on for the next two hours as she went over what each dress was perfect for, the materials used and her construction of each dress. In between clothing changes I was left there standing naked, my breasts and female sex proudly on display. I thought I was pulling off the deception perfectly when one of the lady employees came over to me asking if I had to use the bathroom. Through the bright red blush I nodded my head and dashed to the bathroom, all of the ladies giggling at a naked female almost running to the bathroom. I almost forgot I had to sit to pee, but did manage it eventually. I reappeared after wiping myself thoroughly and was helped back up on the dais.

Then I heard them mention to Linda they wanted to get pictures of her designs on her dress dummy, ones that would be perfect for their internet catalog. So once again I modeled each of her designs as hundred of pictures were taken of me. They wanted to keep the dresses, so one of their employees hung each one on a rolling rack with the rack labeled Linda’s Couture.

In all of the fuss of trying on the many dresses the mannequin cover was lost, but the ladies assured me that the male help will be extra careful with me as they load me back into the limo for the ride home. Red again as the same male as before carefully lifted me onto his cart and I was wheeled out to the limo. He delicately lifted me up and placed me in the back seat of the limo, then gave me a peck on the cheek. Meanwhile Linda was being helped into the limo, her smirk at what was happening to me quite obvious. Once back home, help was again furnished in being placed back in the house, from the limo driver, but alas no kiss. Oh gawd, did I just think about missing a kiss from a male limo driver.

Linda attacked me as soon as the driver closed our front door, knocking me back onto the sofa. I swear the kiss lasted forever, she eventually had to come up for air, my breathing labored and erratic. She dug in her purse for something pulling out a check from the fashion house for ten thousand dollars made out to Linda’s Couture, a signing bonus for Linda to sell her dresses with them. I have already called your work on the limo ride home telling them you have quit and will not be working any more for anyone except me. I intend to get you a tattoo on you butt, saying you are Dora property of Linda’s Couture.

Now I am just about as horny as a female can be, my dildo needs using and my property needs its just reward for all it has done for me. I was dragged off, laid on the bed and in a matter of minutes was being plowed by my wife, her dildo deep inside me. After the shock wore off a little, a pleasant way to spend the evening. Junior did erupt several times, the cum dripping out of my new female sex shortly thereafter.

The next morning it was back to work, since she had three orders already. The week continued in that vain, two to three orders every day. As she completed an order I was slipped into the nest dress. An all in one girdle was padded where necessary to match the customer’s measurements. The majority of the day I was just a dress dummy, although I did get time off for going to the bathroom and eating a little lunch. It was three weeks later when I realized that wearing dresses was my new normal, so comfortable and flattering. Yes, I often peeked at my reflection in the mirror, pleased at what I saw. It wasn’t but a few weeks later that a return trip to the salon was made, more permanent enhancements added to my body and the first of my weekly maintenance appointments to keep my hair and makeup pristine.

When Linda comes up with a new dress designs, back to the company for pictures for the internet catalog and for the print brochures that are sent out regularly. I do enjoy being handled by the guys, as we arrive and after the photo shoot. A little kiss or grope making me swoon in delight. Linda accuses me of being a flirt, but I, of course, deny it vehemently.

Since there is no bolts to be stripped I am good for many years use. In using me she did get a better and more updated model and it didn’t cost her much. Yep, I am a lowly dress dummy now, my owner seeing to my care and maintenance, I couldn’t be happier.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Sierra; A Living Mannequin

Sierra; A Living Mannequin

It was the first day of my summer vacation, although I had been looking forward to this day for nine long months, now that it is here I am bored to death. Most of my friends have left me alone this summer, either off with their parents on vacation or away with some relative.

All three of my closest friends come from broken homes, their parents getting divorced early in life. Mark is with his Mom in France, Steve is away with his big brother in Washington, and Kevin is visiting his dad in Montana. Kevin’s parents are separated living their own lives, and he gets shuffled to one or the other every summer. This year it is his Dad. Steve and Mark are also from divorced families, but full custody had been given to their Moms.

My Mom offered to send me to camp, but I know our finances are not that good, so I declined the offer. She works two jobs to make a home for us, so I can’t ask her to sacrifice more just so I have somewhere to go for the summer. My older sister Nevada is off on her own, trying to make her boutique profitable.

She learned from Mom how to sew, and has been making her own designs for several years now. She also helps support Mom and me, as her finances allow, some months there is no help, others she manages to contribute heavily. I know it stresses her trying to make the boutique profitable and also help Mom.

She lives at home with us, although because of the boutique she only is home in the evening, sleeping in bed, then back at work the next day. I am very appreciative of both of them, a lot of my friends having it much worse. At least, I have two people that care for me and freely show that love to me in many ways.

My dad had left Mom shortly after I was born, she has never heard a word from him, although her lawyer has tried to find him for quite some time, to try and get some child support for Mom. The lawyer is a female friend of Mom’s and does the legal work for free. Once she gets a lead on his whereabouts he quickly vanishes, so the likelihood of some child support is nil.

I should discuss the names my sister and I have been given, they are far from being mainstream, and when Mom told us how they originated, that only made it worse. Before they were married Mom and Dad used to love to camp, spending days living with nature. At the time, they lived in northern California and spent their weekends camping in the mountains that were situated to the east of their home. The mountains were part of the Sierra Nevada range, so you can guess where the inspiration came from. My sister is the first born, so she got the name Nevada. It caused her quite a bit of grief; Nevada is hardly a female’s name, in fact, it is rarely chosen for a name of either sex.

When I came along, again what they envisioned and common sense never shared the same body. I got the name Sierra, neither a boy’s or girl’s name, but the sound of it more along the feminine lines. For both of us there is no logical nickname for either of these monikers, so we suffered through school, At least we didn’t have people forgetting our names, their uniqueness making them hard to forget.

I was sitting in the living room that evening, trying to watch some TV, but in reality, I was just staring at the screen. Nevada is working on some alterations on a dress that she had sold, trying to get the hem straight. I often looked her way, watching what she is doing, and being thankful for my sister’s help with Mom and me. She looked my way several times and then when I sighed for the umpteenth time that night she asked me if I wanted to help. I gave her a funny look but figured she is just making fun of my utter boredom.

She asked again, then laid down her work and walked over to me. She grabbed my hand and had me stand up. She removed my t-shirt, then slipped the dress over my head. I just watched as she adjusted the dress on my body, then removed it and told me to stand still. I went into mannequin mode and froze in place. She knows I do this often, so she left me returning a few minutes later with a bra and two breast forms. The bra is slipped on me then secured in back. She often had to move my arm or hand to get me in the right position.

The dress is slipped back on my body, and she readjusts it on my now feminine figure. After the dress is on she moves my body to get me in the right position adjusts my arms and tilts my head back and up some. My back is straightened, and then she drops to the floor to finish redoing the hem of the dress. I just stand there motionless as she does her work. After she has it pinned she removes it and slips another dress over my head. This goes on for quite some time, my only movements when she readjusts my arms or hands to get me into the next dress.

Then she pulls a long evening gown from the garment bag she had brought home, holds it up against me, and then runs to her bedroom. I can hear her going through her closet, then a squeal, and shortly she is back with a pair of heels in her hand. She lifts each leg a few inches off the floor, then slides a knee-high stocking up my leg, that followed by the high heeled shoe. Then she puts the foot down and does the other foot in the same manner. She knew I would have difficulty with the heels, so she leaned against me so I could use her for support until I felt I could stand on my own. With both heels on, she slipped the dress on me, adjusted it and then started pinning the hem.

I remained quiet if you are impersonating a mannequin you have to remain silent, so I did. I have been fascinated with mannequins and somewhat robots since the time I saw a person impersonate one at the local mall. The store was running a special promotion, and if you could get the person to break character, you would win a prize. The individual was quite good, but often broke out in laughter to the antics being performed in front of him, I think it was deliberate so some of the prizes could be awarded. After the prizes were given the mannequin remained in character for the rest of the evening, even as he was being removed from the window.

Since that one time occurrence, I have whiled away my spare time practicing to be a mannequin. I know, not much cranial matter up there if the life of a mannequin is my sole purpose in life. Somehow it fascinated me, holding the position for hours, keeping breathing to a low unnoticed breath here and there. I think I have mastered it pretty well, the three hours Sis used me for a mannequin I never made a noise or movement.

Somewhere during the evening, Mom had plopped herself down on the sofa, slightly out of my sight. She apparently had watched the goings on, finally speaking to Sis.

“As good as he is, you ought to take him into the shop; he can be your backroom mannequin, and you can use him for alterations during the day. Since that old dress form is almost falling apart, this new one should be much better. Besides, he will be out from under foot, and busy, so he can't moan and groan as much about being bored.”

I could see Sis and the wheels are turning in her mind. She stands right in front of me, wiggles her eyebrows and asks if I am interested. To start with she can’t pay me much, but she will see that I get fed every day, and maybe it will work out to be something more. I am determined not to break character, Sis smiled and then kissed me on the ear.

She knew that bothered me, a sister of our Mother always did that, and I often ran right to the bathroom to wash the ear and surrounding area to get the cooties off of me. The goosebumps were raising up; my ear is twitching demanding some kind of relief. I broke down running from the room to the bathroom, telling her that I would do it if she never kissed me there again. Of course, Mom and sis were laughing and giggling at my expense, but I eventually returned to the living room, so Sis could remove the dress. She complimented me on my ability to run in heels; she had never seen me run that fast before. I shook my head, the thought of what she had done to me still making me shiver.

After I had returned to my male self, she made the offer again, wanting to know if I would accept the job. I agreed to help her Monday through Saturday but wanted at least one day for myself. She has done so much for Mom and me; there is no way that I could ever refuse her anything she might ask of me. I returned to my room; I guess I will now get plenty of practice in my new role as a mannequin for her shop.

I got up earlier the next day so that I could go in with her. She normally left the house at seven each morning, using the couple of hours before she opened, to finish the alterations for the dresses the customers would pick up during the day. While she is sewing, I wandered around the shop, looking at all of the beautiful dresses she had to offer. She had a raised dais featuring a couple of her creations just hanging from a hanger suspended from the ceiling. I removed one of the dresses, then found the bag with the bra and forms used on me last night. I went to one of her dressing rooms stripped out of my clothes and got dressed in my new selection.

It took me a while; the bra did not cooperate, but the dress slid over my head with ease, but I couldn’t get the zipper closed. I found the heels that she used last night at the bottom of the bag, slipped on the knee-highs and then the heels. The dress is longer than most dresses, the hem coming below my knees, barely covering my hose. I shook out my hair after removing the scrunchie, then assumed a position on the dais. I slowed down my breathing, looking straight ahead, focusing on an object in her front window. If I focused on something, I am able to keep the surrounding talk and movement from breaking my concentration.

Sis came out later looking for me, not realizing she had a new display in her store. Before I could focus on what she is doing, she opened the store and put the open sign in the window. I froze, this is not what I had in mind; I just wanted to see what it would be like to be in front of people, visible through the front glass window of the store. To my chagrin, several customers came walking in and started shopping. They looked around the store then walked over to look at the dress that I am wearing. Sis came over to help, then realized where her brother had disappeared to. She reached behind my back and zipped up the dress; I could feel the dress getting tighter as the zipper rose up my back. When the customers were to my side I got a big smile from her, but no help in getting out of the situation. I had placed myself in this predicament all by myself, so had no one to blame but myself.

The customers were there to pick up a dress that they had bought yesterday but wanted to see if anything else might strike their fancy. Then several more ladies walked in, striding right up to me, even touching the dress to see what type of material was used. In the next hour, the store became almost full. Nevada is busy ringing up sales and getting dresses that they had bought yesterday for them. More than once they were all huddled around me, talking about the dress and even trying it on for themselves. I am really glad she had more than one of this dress; I would have died if she had to take my dress off so a customer could try it on.

I wondered if I was stuck here for the whole day, the steady stream of customers never seeming to end. At one time there are just a few customers in the store, Sis approaches with a water bottle equipped with a tube to spray water into the mouth. When the customers were looking away, she gives me a squirt, then a few minutes later another squirt. In between she is applying lipstick to my mouth and some mascara to my eyes. After the last squirt, she tells me that is much better, then walks over to the counter to ring up a lady’s purchases.

The whole day she is never without a customer in the store. From previous conversations, this is unheard of for her boutique. Several times during the day as she is wandering the store to check on her customers she changed a few things making me much more visible to the people in the mall. Every time she makes a change it seems like the traffic increased.

My feet are killing me, the heels and the lack of movement making my legs ache, especially my calves. Otherwise, I am holding up rather well; I just hope that the sales Sis had gotten today has helped her in her business. As the day progressed I am really glad that I didn’t have anything to eat or drink this morning that would have made my life much more miserable. I could drink a pond dry at the moment, but the little she gave my earlier had helped a lot to make the desire bearable.

I am also glad there is no clock visible to me, watching the time crawl by, would have made me quite nervous, making my day only that much more unbearable. Finally, she moved to the window and turned the sign to closed. There were still a few customers in the store, so it was about thirty minutes later when the last customer actually left the store. Sis left to go to the back returning with a dolly and a sheet. She through the sheet over me pushed the dolly up next to me, then leaned me back against the back of it.

She pushed me to the back of the store, then parked the dolly, removed the sheet and attacked me kissing me everywhere except my ear thankfully. As soon as I moved some she verbally thanked me, she had done a whole month’s worth of business in one day, the dress I am wearing she had sold out of including the one I am wearing now. I tried to relax all of my joints that long without moving made everything stiff and sore. She repeated her mantra several times; she is so happy, for once things are looking up for her.

I presume I have a job now, a steady job considering what happened today. She helped me undress, then gave me some sweats to wear home. The light green sweats are in a feminine color, but they are comfortable. She put my hair back up in a ponytail, then paused as she called Mom. She relayed the good news, then told her that she is taking me out to dinner since we had been so busy neither one of us had time for any lunch.

We drove to a restaurant that I had been to once before when I got dragged along with Mom as she visited the boutique. I did remember their burgers, big, juicy and full of flavor. The toppings they offered huge, a whole plate loaded with choices for you to pick what you wanted. As I nibbled on the burger, she wanted to know how I did it, the whole day with no movement. I told her it is sometimes hard, but knowing I was helping you in the business did keep my mind positive and relaxed. She asked if I could do it every day like I did today, maybe not for as many hours, but at least six days a week.

“I think I can handle it, but I will have to be better prepared. Not going to the bathroom is going to be a problem, me missing breakfast the only thing that got me through today. Then keeping myself upright without some type of support is also a problem, especially if I do it every day. I know later in the day it is everything I could do to keep from falling over, my legs and feet so unstable from standing all day. Let me think about it for a couple of days and see if I can think of something to help. How about for the next couple of days I only do it for half a day until I get things worked out.”

She eagerly agreed, then we finished our burgers and left for home. Of course, Mom had to hear the whole story, her taking me into her arms and squeezing the life out of me, showed how much she appreciated the effort on my part. Half way through the retelling of the story I headed off to bed, the days happenings taking their toll on me. I don’t remember taking off my clothes, but when I had to use the restroom later in the night, I was only wearing my shorts. I dreamed of being in a store window, even Sis changing my outfit while I was still in the window, with people watching her do it.

I duplicated my role the next morning, only a different dress. Sis did find me a different pair of heels to wear, the little difference in height helping with the calves of my legs. We had to start early before anybody would enter the mall, so by a quarter till eight I was again on display. When we had first got there, we moved the dais closer to the window, making me more obvious to passersby. By nine-thirty she had opened the doors, a line waiting to come in and shop. My outfit is touched more today, even my bare skin a couple of times, the display seemed to attract people to get close and inspect it. She is just as busy as yesterday, never a slack time. She was able to check on me a couple of times, even give me a shot of water without others noticing what she is doing. She asked if I could make it for a while more I blinked my eyes in response. What she ended up doing is closing two hours earlier, something I was ecstatic about.

Since every time I was on display she is inundated with customers, we decided that I would not do it tomorrow, to allow me to figure out some things to make it less of an ordeal. She had enough customers returning to pick up their altered purchase tomorrow to guarantee a successful day. We stayed late that night as I wore the dresses and she made the alterations. She had made the changes to twenty-three dresses that she had sold the last two days when she finished up the sewing in the morning she would be caught up.

That is another discussion we had that evening, with all of this business she is going to have to have some help, so we had to figure if the help would know about me. We both agreed that the fewer people we let in on the secret, the better off we would be. We got home, and I made straight for my bed, the day's activities along with the previous day had taken all of my strength away.

When we got to the store, the next day we put something else on display on the dais, and she opened the shop. We had several early shoppers, every one of them wanting to know where the new mannequin is at. I listened through the curtain that separated the front and back of the shop to their questions and their fascination with me as a mannequin. More than one responded how life like it was; they could almost picture themselves in the dress by just looking at the display. I was sitting at her sewing machine in the back with a pad trying to jot down some ideas. Her back room is not the biggest, and every inch of space is used in a most efficient manner.

The business is off a little today, without me as a mannequin. I made some notes on what is needed to make it more realistic and to make it more comfortable for me. Number one requirement is some type of support to lean on or better yet to hold me in an upright position. Then I thought of her needing to change clothes on me; the support can’t interfere with that task. I had to either have a pole that came up through my legs to support me somehow or I had to hang from a beam or rack so that the dress could be slid up from under me, over my hips and then situated around my chest.

The next consideration is that I needed to be a little more feminine, both in looks and shape. I wanted the perception of everybody to be that I was a female in all regards. We had lucked out so far; I think the novelty of it kept some people from seeing through the deception. That would require Nevada’s input since she is the expert in those fields.

The bathroom question also has to be figured out or at least changing my eating and drinking habits to minimize any need to use the restroom. The dinner out the first night almost caused a problem the next day when I had to void that residue. I had a couple of ideas, but they weren’t anything I wanted to deal with. I had looked around her storage area, trying to find some display or apparatus to give me some ideas. I stared at her dress form, the pole going up the center of the form supporting the top. That would work if I could find a way to anchor it to my body.

I went to her computer and scanned the internet for similar poles and display stands. I found plenty of dress forms, but they offered no means of supporting me. No luck until I hit on a bondage and restraint site showing a similar stand with a butt plug mounted on a pole that can be adjusted up or down. It looked uncomfortable, but it did handle all the other requirements of support and accessibility. From an economy standpoint, it is quite inexpensive; the mannequin stands from display companies costing twice what this stand cost. I wrote the information down but didn’t have much hope for it being a solution for the problem. When Nevada closed the shop down that evening, we talked about my list, especially me being more feminine and realistic.

Her salon that she uses every once in a while does transformations on males, the ones she has seen quite realistic and believable. She called them and asked a lot of questions. We ended up driving over there so they could look at me and make appropriate recommendations. The salon is very opulent; the stylists appear like they have just stepped off the fashion runway. The customers all appear to be female, but as we later learned they were all male at the time of our arrival. We got prices, both of us surprised at how reasonable they were. They recommended the starter package, basic body molding, hair removal, and hair styling. Then it is suggested that they apply semi-permanent makeup, lasting for several weeks and of course long fingernails in a bright color. The hair style could be made more resilient with a permanent and a finishing spray that would keep the style in place for several days.

If I became a regular customer using the services of the salon once a week, I would receive a forty percent discount on all services making it a real deal. Then we got around to discussing my need for some special solutions for my role as a mannequin. We had decided not to tell them what I was doing specifically, but asking if they had a solution to the problem. I told the stylist that I needed a way to handle bodily functions without going to the bathroom. I thought sure that would throw her, but she never batted an eyelash.

For some of their other specialty customers, they had a false vagina that glued on with a special insert for the anus. My penis would fit into a sleeve hid under the vagina skin that could be emptied into a bag that could be hidden in several different areas of the crotch. It is glued in, so there is no chance of it coming loose. The other bodily waste is handled through a tube inserted up through the anus, with taking one pill a day the stool is kept liquid and is easily slid through the tube to the same bag as the urine. Nevada asked the price of this appliance and is floored when the tech tells her it is only two hundred and fifty dollars. I asked if the anus is reduced in size due to this tube but she assures me that it can handle a regular sized dildo with no problem. My face is bright red, and I am looking down at the ground. Nevada is looking at me trying to figure why I had asked that question. Her mind working overtime trying to figure out why that would need to be asked.

The tech left us for a few minutes so we could talk it over, but Nevada decided that this is something we needed to do, and the sooner, the better. When the stylist returned she made an appointment for me the next day, Nevada paying her in advance for all the services. I think that was to ensure that I didn’t change my mind before my appointment. Sis would drop me off on her way to the boutique, then pick me up after the store closed. They had told us it would take approximately eight hours to complete the tasks. When the tech is going over the services, she ordered I didn’t hear that the starter package had been changed to the deluxe package, a small change that would affect me quite a bit. I was setup as a regular customer and the discount had been applied to all of the services. The bill for all of the changes would be less than five hundred dollars.

On the way home, Nevada told me that her increase in business due to my actions had easily covered the extra expense that this would entail. She figured that by the end of the year she could have all of Mom’s debt paid back, leaving her debt free including paying off the mortgage. That made me happy, some of my efforts finally making a difference in Mom’s life.

I tried to delay the changes scheduled for the next day, hoping to find something that might work without being so drastic. Nevada wanted to make sure that we took advantage of this interest in a mannequin before it faded away or someone else started doing it. So the next morning I am dropped off and within a few minutes I am naked, and my body hair is being removed. I was never very hairy, a little fuzz on my legs, my underarms, and a small patch on my chest was all that was there. The cream they applied to my body took care of that, leaving my skin velvety smooth and hair free.

My eyebrows were handled the same way, completely removed, since they were going to use the semi-permanent makeup to create high arched brows suitable for a female mannequin. Some hard plastic breast forms were glued to my chest right above the nipple. A machine is brought in and hooked up to my glued on forms. The machine starts and the cups started sucking on my chest, the extra skin and tissue being sucked into the cups as the machine drones on. After a short time, the steady pull from the vacuum changes to a pulsating pull, cycling on then off. My legs are spread, then attached to stirrups on either side of the table I am laying on. The tech works on my crotch, taking an appliance from a box and attaching it to pertinent places. I feel my penis inserted into something, then a liquid applied to the inside of the tube, as my apparatus is placed in the correct position.

Then I tense up as my anus is lubricated with another cream, then all feeling from down there ceases as something is shoved up inside me. I can’t feel what is exactly being done, just a feeling of fullness in my rear. A bag with connecting tubes is attached to my upper thigh. I presume the collection bag for my wastes.

The tech checks my breasts; the cups are now about half full then moves me and the machine to a chair at a sink. My hair is shampooed and conditioned then a towel is wrapped around it. The chair is set up, the tech combing through my hair and putting it into sections. Another tech comes in with things for a manicure and soon my hands are soaking in a tub of solution. While they are soaking, my toenails are filed, then painted with a clear coat, followed by three coats of bright red polish. Each coat is dried separately under a UV light before the next coat is added. Finally, a high shine topcoat is applied and once again put under the UV light. I am amazed at my transformation so far, the few glimpses I have gotten of my body are definitely female.

My fingernails are next, the cuticle pushed back, then the nail is filed into a neat oval. She reaches into a box and pulls out some nail extensions and lays them on the table. They are quite long, almost an inch past the tips of my own nails. She matches the back of the extension to each individual nail so that they fit perfectly. Glue is added to each nail and to my fingernail then pushed on and held for a few minutes to assure attachment. When she has completed each hand, under the UV light to set. When the hand comes out from under the light, the color of the extension has changed, now looking more like my natural nail color.

A base coat, three coats of color, then a topcoat, each set with the UV light before the next coat. My hands suddenly are so elegant, the longer nails making my hands look more slender and dainty. The extensions are also making it more difficult to do anything, for one thing, I can no longer make a fist, the longer nails preventing it.

I had been so concerned about what is being done to my nails that I had forgotten my hair, looking up I discovered half of my hair already on perm rods, the paper peeking out from the curlers. Twenty minutes later all of my hair is in the curlers, and the tech is applying the perm solution to the curlers. The obligatory band of cotton around my head to keep the perm solution off my face and neck. I know when Sis had gotten a perm in the past, it has been months before the curls had relaxed, allowing for a more normal hairdo, I am sure I will suffer the same fate.

The feeling is beginning to return to my rear, the fullness still there, though. Once I had been released from the boob machine, I was subjected to an inspection of my new appliance, the tech taking some liquid and sealing the seams where it came into contact with my skin. That is also done to whatever has been shoved up my rear opening; I am sure that removing it would be very difficult if not impossible.

I can handle the changes as long as I forget how life-changing they really are. Several times tears came to my eyes, I will have to portray a female for many months, the changes not allowing me to revert to the masculine gender. Thinking of helping Sis and how it will benefit Mom do make things better, but I still feel a bit perturbed at the overall loss of my male gender. Although the machine has been unhooked from my new breasts, the cups are still firmly attached, lack of any empty space in the cup, a sign of how successful the process was. I definitely will be considered well-endowed now, my new mammaries even larger than my sisters.

The permanent is finished, rinsed with plain water then the neutralizer is applied. Left on for fifteen minutes it too is rinsed out; the perm curlers removed leaving me with tons of squiggly curls all over my head. Then my hair is set on larger magnetic rollers, each roller pinned in place. I am placed under a dryer, the cups still on my breasts, and letting the dryer set the curl in my hair. Thirty minutes later, I am pronounced done, as the rollers are removed big springy curls are left in their wake.

My ears are pierced next, a laser used to make the holes, so there would be no healing time involved. Long dangly crystalline stones intermixed with curly gold wires make for an eye-catching earring, the ends of them swaying against my neck from time to time. It is definitely a new feeling as the earrings sway with every movement of my head. Along with the earrings I received two bracelets, both of them in a similar design to the earrings, they were secured around my wrists; and then the clasp is glued shut. The same for the necklace that is placed around my neck, if fitting fairly snugly, definitely not loose enough to slide over my head. Again I should have asked, but if I didn’t ask about some of the other things done to me, why should I ask about the jewelry that can’t be removed?

The forms will dissolve eventually disappearing after a few days, the two shots, one in each breast, to make the breasts appear more normal. I started to ask about the reason, but maybe what I don’t know will make life easier. All of this is definitely out of my comfort zone, in fact for the last hour, my mind has shut down, if I don’t think about it and acknowledge it has happened it can’t be real. I know, don’t I wish. The breasts starting to bounce around on my chest are quite real, the weight pulling down on my shoulders. I wonder if Sis’s breasts feel this heavy to her. Then to my surprise, the area around the nipple is treated with a stain to make my nipples more prominent and female in looks.

The chair is tilted back, and they started on my makeup. The crèam again to remove my beard, then a second application after the first to make it permanent. The eyebrows have already been dealt with so now my face is a blank canvas for their makeup. A concealer is used to hide some of my blemishes and areas of different skin color. Then a foundation is smoothed out over my face and down my neck. They are very careful where they apply it and how it is blended, making sure to remove any mistakes quickly before the makeup sets.

My eyelashes are the next target, adding longer eyelashes to my eyelids, the new lashes quite a bit longer than the originals. Each lash is glued on separately, over two hundred added to my eyelids. As the glue is drying the tech slips some contact lenses into my eyes, causing my whole world to become fussy. Before I can say anything, she tells me they are ones my sister wants me to wear; they will make everything blurry, but I should be still able to recognize large objects. Anyone looking at your eyes will see the orbs of a mannequin, a non-human entity used as a dress model. With my new long nails, I knew I would not be able to remove them without someone doing it for me.

She continued with my eyes adding several different types of product to my eyelids and lashes. The one she used to coat my already long lashes made them heavier than they were. A pen is also used on my eyelid, making a line across my eyelid. The lips are lined the same way; then she used a brush to fill in the color on the actual lip. Since I couldn’t see now, all of this is what I felt as she worked on my face. When she is finished a spray is applied all over my face, her telling me to close my eyes while she coated my face with the product.

Apparently I am finished, the chair is straightened back up, and my hair is brushed out and then sprayed with another spray to keep the style intact. Then I am left there in the chair for quite some time. Another lady comes and sits beside me, introducing herself as Francine. We talked for a while her wanting to know what I am up to, the things that have been done to me intriguing everyone at the salon. I told her I was helping my sister as a model for her boutique, the changes needed so I can perform the task. She moved in closer, suggesting that might be what I am telling everybody, but she knew better.

“If I had to make an educated guess, you are going to be a living mannequin for the shop, dressed in her designs, and acting just like a lifeless mannequin.” I couldn’t see her face, but I knew mine must have revealed surprise at her accurate guess. She confided in me that one of her stylists had been to the shop, seen me in a dress and had come back and told her of her findings. Francine told me that she had visited the shop yesterday to see what all the commotion is about, my impersonation of a mannequin quite good in her opinion.

The conversation is interrupted as Sis came in, attacking me, thrilled at what they had accomplished with me. Francine introduced herself and their voices faded as they stepped away from me. I am sure I am the main topic of conversation, but couldn’t hear what they were saying, although I could hear some voices talking. Since my vision is so blurred due to the contacts, I stayed out of the conversation, not being able to see where I am going. I lifted one hand to my eye, maybe I could get the contacts out, but when I stabbed myself with my nail, I knew getting them out myself is not going to happen.

I just sat there in the styling chair waiting for Sis to return. I couldn’t even see what I looked like, although from what I felt I probably looked quite feminine. Finally, Sis returned, helped me up and led me to her car. I can see shadows, large objects, although the image is blurred. She helps me sit in the car, then put a sheet around me. Then the realization that she had led me to her car while I was stark naked made the connection in my mind. I protested, but Sis dismissed it, mannequins don’t require clothes, and by the way you look, you are nothing but a mannequin.

I remained quiet for the rest of the trip home but felt very uneasy as to how things were going. She parked outside a building; then I realized she had taken me to the shop instead of home. The familiar smell of her shop wafted up to my nose. Sis always kept her shop smelling like lilacs, a favorite scent of hers. At least it was closed, so I would have some privacy.

I was led inside, and she had me step up onto a dais as we had used for the first trial. I felt something between my legs, but whatever it was is at a lower level than my knees. “I want to try setting up a display so I can get some pictures with you, after the transformation.” She added some stockings to my legs than some heels; the stockings were loose around my thighs; I presume she is going to attach them to something. A corset is slipped around my body, then she hooks the busk together and then tightens it some. It is in firm contact with my skin, but not uncomfortable. The stockings are attached to the corset at the garters, now taught on my legs.

She tells me that she has found an item that fits in my mouth, holding a small amount of water that can be released slowly to take care of my thirst. She has me open my mouth, then tells me to keep it open as she positions the appliance correctly. It fills my mouth completely, and she has to move it in and out as she gets my tongue in the right place.

She inserts something in my mouth, a metal object that is inserted into the gag. She turns it a few turns, and suddenly my mouth is fuller, the device expanding in my mouth, trapping my tongue and keeping my lips slightly open. I can’t make any noise other than a grunt in my throat. The metal object is removed, I feel it as it is slipping out of my mouth. “If you wiggle your tongue slightly, a drop or two of water will be released in your mouth.” I try it, a small drop of moisture appears in my mouth. The wiggling of my tongue is very minimal, the device she has inserted in my mouth stopping most any movement of my tongue or jaws.

As I am trying to handle this latest restriction on my body she tells me to stand upright, keeping my back straight, as she grabs the corset laces and tightens them severally over the next few minutes. I can hardly breathe, the breaths I am taking are very shallow and brief. Finally, I feel the laces tied off behind my back; I can’t bend any at all, trapped in this rigid position because of the corsets unrelenting grasp on my body. This corset runs from just under my breasts to my upper thighs, although I suspect in the back it does not come as low, since I can feel coolness on the back of my upper thighs.

She bends down some, right behind me and moves the bag that is attached to my upper thigh. I feel her pulling on the tube that keeps me waste free and moving them around. Then she applies some lubrication to my new rear hole and slides something up and down in it. Then something is pushed up into me, quite far from the feeling in my butt. I hear her tightening something then pushes up some more, I am now standing almost on my toes. The tightening noise again and I am then left alone. I can’t move any, the corset and whatever she has up inside of me keeping me totally immobile.

I felt very full, but even wiggling a little seems impossible. My toes are touching through the heels, but I think my actual heel is slightly off the floor. I can’t get any leverage this way, even with my hands-free there is nothing I can reach or push up on to relieve my situation. I think back to the bondage apparatus I had seen on the internet and wonder if she had found where I had looked at it. From the feel of it, I think she has managed to find one somehow and got me impaled on it. She returned after a short absence and started dressing me in one of her outfits. I figure with all that has been done to me; I ought to look pretty good in the clothes now.

She grabbed my hand and started moving the dais I am on, presumably to the sales floor. I am panicking, but there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. No voice, limited eyesight, and unable to remove myself from the display. Totally screwed in more than one way. I try to hang on to her arm as she apparently has the display where she wants it, but she pulled it away easily. I am stuck, totally stuck and there is no way out. She comes up and plays with my eyes spraying a liquid in my eyes. I can see, the liquid eliminating the fuzziness. She has propped a mirror in front of me, the image that I am looking at is so feminine, a males wet dream.

She pulls a chair up in front of me and stares at me. I look around and see that I am right in front of the store, very visible to anybody passing by. She has moved a few racks of clothes and redid the front display area. They are two arms coming from behind me, one on each side of my body. They are shoulder high and have a clamp at the end of each arm. I have a feeling they are for me, somehow the project I had started out on has morphed into something else entirely.

“I see you have put two and two together and figured out you are in deep do-do. I am appreciative of all you have done for me and are doing for me. It has changed all of the existing scenarios quite dramatically. Mom is also quite happy with the changes, she for once in her life can relax a little, knowing that things are being handled in a positive way. The changes at the salon have exceeded anybody’s idea of how pretty you might turn out to be. Francine, in particular, is quite impressed with your new look. All of this has changed your participation in this little charade.”

“After I had dropped you off at the salon, I returned to the shop and sent some emails to some of my suppliers. Imagine my surprise when I discovered your inquiry for a base for your impersonation. They were checking to see if you wanted to order it now or wait for a while. I called them, finding out a little more about the base with extending pole they offered. I found out they had a local branch, that stocked the item, so I drove over there. I was shown the item and also the heavier deluxe version that they were starting to carry, but not listed on the internet yet. I thought it would be perfect, so I bought one, while it is being rung up I noticed some different types of gags on one wall, so I described what I needed, and they just happened to have what I needed. I bought that also, plus a couple of more items that will be a surprise later.”

“I had to hurry back to the shop since I had some customers coming to pick up dresses. Mom had called and told me she was going to come by, and I asked her to bring your laptop, wondering what I might find on said machine. Mom ended up staying for three hours helping me, the business really picking up. Everybody asked about where my new mannequin was at; I made an excuse that she is being renovated, a true fact, everybody going to come by in the next few days to see how you turned out. After I had closed the shop, I checked your computer and found several files that had attempted to be hidden so prying eyes couldn’t find them. Remember that I made an A in computer sciences, so it took me all of fifteen minutes to access the files. What I found surprised me to no end. I now know why you were willing to do this since it is a fantasy of yours. Everything you are experiencing and will experience in the next year or two was listed in those files.”

“As Francine and I were talking at the salon when I came to pick you up, she guessed that something like that is deep in your psyche since all through the day you never did protest anything that was done to you, even though most of the treatments were not discussed beforehand. Francine has offered us a business deal that is quite attractive. Since she has a large number of salons across the country, and her customers are all likely to purchase one of my dresses at one time or another, she wants me to close the shop, and you and I tour the salons doing two-day shows. Of course, you will be the mannequin wearing each dress during the two-day show.”

“She will furnish us a bus to make the trip in comfort and a driver to help set up and do the driving. All she wants is a small commission on the sale; the show will add to her traffic making it lucrative for her to host the shows. I will make the alterations and mail the dress back to the customer. Since I will not have the expense of the boutique, I will make a lot more profit on each dress.”

“While we are doing each show, she is going to have some photos done featuring yourself, to be used in her local advertising. Since the photo will feature each individual salon, it will be more effective than a blanket type of advertising.”

“Now I want you to take some time and think about this deal. When I ask for your decision later if you blink your eyes twice that will inform me of your approval of this deal and situations. Think about it carefully; I plan to keep you as a mannequin for the majority of the time and as you are now, unable to free yourself and stuck as you are. There will be some time for you to get away from it, from time to time, but essentially your future life will be as a mannequin. If this is the path we choose to follow, I will give notice on the store in the morning, and we will start touring the salons within the month. I am leaving you for a while to think; I should be back in an hour or two with some nourishment for you.”

“Now give me your hands and I will attach them, so you needn’t worry about being able to use them. I will turn the store lights off, leaving only the display lights on, they have a photography show going on tonight at the mall, so there should be plenty of people in the mall until eleven PM, I am sure your display will attract a lot of attention, everybody wanting to get a picture of the beautiful mannequin. Give me a kiss, and I will see you later.” After she had attached the clamps to my wrists, she gave me a cheek kiss, then turned off the lights leaving me spotlighted by the display lights.

My mind is so confused, everything that I had fantasies about is happening to me, for real, although not being to stop it or change the outcome is a serious consideration. I stopped thinking, I am a captive of my sister, as her mannequin for the foreseeable future, but it is one of my fondest fantasies, could I live this life from now on? I knew she would take care of me like she has taken care of both Mom and me for the last several years, so that is not a concern. The thing that scared me the most is I have no control over my life, my whole being subject to what she wants for me.

I decided to blink twice when she got back, that one action, sealing my fate forever. I wonder how long she wants to do this, for a few years or for a decade. I won’t be asking the question since my speech is silenced. I wiggled my tongue a little, in fact, the limited movement all I could accomplish with the gag in place. A large drop of water appeared on my tongue, and I swallowed it promptly, helping with my thirst. To my surprise my vision returned to the fuzziness I am used to, apparently the liquid clears the lenses, then when the liquid evaporates the fuzziness returns.

She returned later, when she showed up she took one look at the mall outside the store front and smiled. It is packed with admirers taking pictures and watching me. She opened the doors and allowed everybody to enter and get closer for the pictures. I noticed a woman eyeing the merchandise, well a fuzzy female, but sis told them the shop is not open tonight, this is just so everybody can take pictures. They all wanted to know where she got such a lifelike mannequin at, it almost looks like it is alive. Sis smiled, “it is a special design and quite expensive, the detail used in making the mannequin very time consuming and specialized.”

An hour later she shooed everybody out, most of the females telling her they will be back tomorrow, to shop for some fashions and to look at the mannequin again. She turned out the lights on the display, leaving only a night lite appearing from near the register. She went to the back and retrieved some food that she had bought. I could hear her blender run then stop; she often made smoothies for us to nibble on in the afternoon. She returned to the front with the blender cup full, and I watched as she poured it into the water bottle she had used previously. She screwed on the lid and approached me. She took the tube that came out from the bottle and placed it in my mouth between my partially open jaws. I could feel it ease into the top of my throat; she squeezed, and the liquid ran down my throat.

The taste is wonderful, although the liquid missed most of my mouth, I could feel some of it run forward in my mouth before it also slipped down my throat. She told me that it had all of the vitamins and minerals needed to support my body, plus some additives to ensure that my waste remained liquid. It would be necessary for her to feed me slowly in the future since the liquid would not remain in my digestive tract long enough. Tonight she would set me up with a baby bottle that I could suck on gradually to get my nourishment.

My eyes went wide, tonight, she said tonight; I would not be set free, and I had to drink from a baby bottle. She explained in a calm and determined tone of voice. “You are a mannequin now, not a person or my brother. You have no requirements other than to be taken care of. That I will do, but only as a mannequin. You will be restrained or unable to move for the foreseeable future. If I chose to leave you naked, that is how you will remain, you are not a person anymore, just my dear lovely mannequin. For me to enjoy and control.”

I closed my eyes, thinking this is too good to be true, my fantasies suddenly happening to me and I have no control over them. No control at all, what I have dreamed about for most of my time on Earth. Someone controlling everything I do, what I wear, where I reside, a fantasy world that is actually real now. She left me alone for a while, letting all she had told me sink in.

About an hour later she returned and inserted the tool into my mouthpiece and released the gag. She pulled it out, gave me another shot of water and told me to swirl it around my mouth. Since you haven’t used your voice for a while, you need to speak softly, and slowly. This is your one and only chance to convey to me how much you want this, or demand to be released and everything return to normal. Think about it for a few minutes; I want the truth, not what you think I want to hear.

I moved my tongue around my mouth, exercising my jaw a little, then in a faint whisper asked her to keep me this way. She smiled, “I wanted to be sure, other people looking in on this scenario would think I am taking advantage of you, making you a prisoner, keeping you subdued and unable to free yourself.”

In a barely audible voice, I suggested that she take some video of me, dressed this way and let me state to the camera that this is what I want for the rest of my life. I love being of help, but also being unable to stop what is being done to me.

“Every three to four days you will spend a day as a normal female, no bondage, no restraints, no gag, just a young female doing things that a normal female would do. That way you will get some exercise, allow your joints to relax a little and be able to use your voice. Then back into mannequin mode for another stint. We will try to do things together that day, go to movies, a restaurant, a little sightseeing, maybe some shopping, but doing things together. I think you will find that the short respite will make you time as a mannequin more interesting and enjoyable. The best part is I get to share my life with my new sister.”

Such a dream come true and I get to live it.

She wheeled the dais around so I could look behind me to see a wooden box, with a foam liner inside that appeared to be molded to my bodies curves. “That is your shipping crate when we travel that is where you will reside to make sure nothing happens to you in transit. It has a clear plastic lid, so you can be seen and a bag hidden in the base of your stand to handle all your waste. That is also where you will sleep at night, your baby bottle in your lips to feed on. The box is designed to be used standing up, the front cover holding you in snuggly and securely. The top portion of the box can be removed so that your dais and attached pole can be moved where we need you.”

“Only during your salon time will you be off your dais, the rest of the time you will be impaled on your pole for all to see. We have modified the dais with more restraints for when we are moving you, and of course, we have added wheels to make moving you around easier.”

Francine and I have decided on a few other changes to make your transformation a little more realistic, number one change is to have your makeup made permanent. That cuts down on maintenance of the mannequin, but we will keep your hair long and permanently curled, after all, it’s a woman’s crowning glory. For a few specialty shows we are going to attend, your nipples and your pussy lips are to be pierced, making you more erotic and sensual. There will be a bondage show or two, you being used to show off some of the latest innovations in bondage attire. I know you will enjoy those shows immensely.

One more chance to change your mind, or back to being a mannequin, your choice. I blinked my eyes twice and she reinserted the mouthpiece and using the tool made it secure. I took a breath and smiled, back to my dream world.

The back of the box was brought up and attached to the dais, using a couple of pins. Now I am standing up with three sides of me covered. The clear top would complete the box. There are projections inside of the frame of the box that fit around me assuring a perfect fit in the box and unable to move any. A tube from a baby bottle is inserted in my mouth through the small hole in the gag and the plastic cover is placed over me, locking me in place. I can suck on the baby bottle a little, a slow drip of nourishment floating into my mouth and throat. I close my eyes, my heaven on earth is right here, and I am experiencing it. I drifted off to sleep, standing up in a box, nursing a baby bottle unable to escape, but not wanting to if I could.

All my life this fetish has occupied a part of me. It came together more when I saw the performer at the mall, but even in school I wanted to be restrained somehow, the chance for any of that to happen never materialized. I once took medieval history for the sole purpose to read and study about dungeons and what went on there. For a while, I was taken with the mummies in ancient Egypt, the idea of being wrapped up, totally captivating. After the entertainer’s visit to the mall, I saw a more realistic way to enjoy my fetish and started practicing my skills.

Sis woke me the next morning when she removed the plastic cover from my box. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Did you sleep well, Sierra?” I simply blinked my eyes, a mannequin cannot talk or move. The tube that furnished me nourishment is removed and Sis changed my bag for waste products in the bottom of the dais. My box is unpinned at the base from its bottom and the box itself is pulled away. I am left standing on the base, as she moves the arms holding my wrists back to the normal position.

The dais is moved to the sales floor, then positioned in the front display. She adjusts the rod impaling me, taking it in and out a few times to make sure I am aware of it, then up a little higher and tightens it off. I am now on my toes, my heels off the base of the dais. I hope she corrects this, it is very uncomfortable. It is still early, I can’t see anybody in the mall yet. Then to my horror, she starts removing my clothes until I am naked.

I know that I am supposed to be an object, not any living being, but being totally naked in the front of the store sure messes with the mind. I am cleaned up using a washcloth and a bucket of water. Believe me she misses no areas of my body, taking extra time around my new erotic areas. I feel each caress of my breasts and shiver when she runs the washcloth down my vaginal slit. This goes on for way too long, in my opinion, but other than turning red in embarrassment there is nothing I can do. I am stuck on the pole and the gag has stopped any type of verbal communication.

She whispers in my ear, that my skin color has become rosier this morning, it must be the lights. Maybe she is a little sadistic, I am beginning to wonder. I am slowly dressed again, she seeming to take an inordinate amount of time on each piece. The smile she is sporting makes me believe she is having way too much fun with this, I wonder what the future will be like if it is like this now.

I can’t imagine anything being added to this situation, even a couple of things done to me were not in my original fantasy. I am not complaining, but I doubt that anything more could be utilized in this scenario.

It appears that Nevada has been busy, the dress that she slides over my head is new, and I have never seen it before. It fits me very snugly, from my bust to my knees. The skirt especially tight on my legs. I know it would be very difficult to walk in this dress, but since I am a mannequin, that is not a concern for me. Several times that morning she changes my outfit, all of them requiring me naked in between my outfits. I can’t see my nipples, but they feel hard and pointy, her dressing me out in public really affecting me.

When she closes up the shop, she leaves me out front in view of the mall windows. I hear a lot of commotion in the back, then being rolled to the back on the dais. The transport box is placed around me, then pinned to the dais. My arm rests are lowered and the clear plastic cover is placed and secured.

Then the whole box is moved outside the store to a waiting bus. I am moved to a side door, the door opens and my box is slid onto a lift. I quickly find myself being raised into the bus, then the box is turned around and the door closes behind me. Nevada and another lady come aboard and secure my box to the side of the bus. The lady takes the driver’s seat and drives away.

Nevada sits in a couple of seats right across the aisle from me, as least I think it is her. My blurry vision is with me all the time, but my other senses are more acute now since my vision and speech is nonexistent. The drive takes quite a while, when we pull into a parking lot. The driver sets the brake, I can hear the air locks engage. The box straps are released, the box is turned around and the lift puts me back on the ground.

I am wheeled into a building, I am guessing the salon where I was transformed since the smell is the same. The dolly is put in the middle of the salon, and my cover is removed. The back part of the box is removed and I can feel the air around me. Nevada comes up to me and squirts some liquid into my eyes and I can see. Next to Nevada is Francine smiling at me, while hiding a small smirk.

Well look what we have here, our new one woman show ready to start her tour. Let’s give her the once over so she will look her best as she tours the salons. Nevada removes me from the pole, then after I regain my balance and mobility I am led to one of the stations. I am seated in the chair, leaned back and a tech starts on my makeup. She is consulting a chart of what goes where, and applying the color to my face. I feel the liquid warm a little. As the liquid seeps into my pores the color will remain permanent, actually staining the skin. Touch ups are only needed once a year on most skin types. Permanent makeup, any vestige of me as a male is now being erased. Surprisingly it didn’t take her too long, three hours and my face is done. Unfortunately my eyes had become fuzzy again so I could not see what I looked like.

Then I am turned over in the chair and she works on my right butt cheek. She uses the stain to alter my tattoo so that is represents something that would be found on a female body. To keep me from touching the coloring my arms were restrained to the side of the chair. When my face was being worked on my arms had not gotten to where I could maneuver with them some now that is also taken away. I am sure my tattoo is now very girly, since everything else is.

I receive another treatment with the hair removing cream, guarantying no body hair in the future. My face was also treated earlier, but left on longer. After they were done with that I am moved to a chair where my hair again became the focus of their ministrations.

It is sprayed with a gel, before being rolled on curlers, then under a dryer for the gel to set. I just sat there the heat of the dryer a little uncomfortable, but as a mannequin that is of no importance. When the dryer clicked off back to a stylist’s chair and the curlers are removed. My hair is brushed hard the curls relaxing some, but quickly springing back into tight curls. After five minutes of brushing the curls relax a little more, then another spray is applied to preserve the hair do as it is. No need to do anything in the future the hairdo will stay the same regardless.

I guess you could consider me low maintenance now, but the reality is that from now on I look like a pretty female in all ways, not just during the day but 24/7. If I ever wanted to go back to my previous life it would be very difficult, if not impossible. With me all spiffy and ready to go, I am mounted back on my pole, secured and loaded back into the box ready to head out.

Before the lid is put on Francine comes over and leans in to talk to me. I know you like this, I know of several others that desire the life you have received, maybe we can have you meet them later. You will be well cared for, and well paid. I have taken care of your mother, you don’t have to worry about her again. I will see that she gets a chance to visit from time to time, she feels so lucky that you love her so much to do this for her.

We both know that a lot of this is for you, and you sister and I will make sure you get full enjoyment from this excursion into another reality. Be good and I will see you in three days at your first stop. The lid is slipped on and I make my departure, box and all. Loaded back onto the bus, and secured the bus heads out.

While I was being worked on Nevada and the driver had boxed all of her creations and they were placed on the bus. Her other displays were sold off to another shop in the mall, along with her register, In our two day shows any sales will be rung up on the salon’s register.

It seems that we will be starting at the farthest salon, since we have been on the road for several days now. I am in my little world, a princess in her kingdom. I dream of future episodes out among my peers, rigid and unmoving but dressed like a queen. I don’t have to worry about earning enough money to survive, as I am cared for and loved. No nine to five job for me, 24/7 in my new life just thinking about it makes me warm inside.

At night when they settled into their comfortable beds I am still in my box. I do get fed at night, the baby bottle only allowing me to slowly withdraw any nourishment. I get some exercise once or twice a day, usually at a rest stop, the process of me being unloaded and reloaded attracting quite a bit of attention. When people ask they are told that I am a robot, needing to flex my joints some so they don’t get rusty and corroded.

By now the intrusion in my butt is not even thought about, it being necessary for my stability. Without it I bounce around in the box some. It is also quite comforting, my constant reminder of my status. To keep things different and exciting Sis changes the device that impales me during the week, some smooth and long, others short and knobby. My feet are never without heels, a necessity to keep from my intruder going even farther up my anus. Standing on my toes, now a normal thing whether in my box or out of it. To some it might be uncomfortable, to me it is heaven, safe and secure, my job just to hang around, look beautiful and display my sister’s creations.

The first show we did at one of the salons was awesome. She actually had a crowd when they unloaded me from the bus. I was featured in the middle of the salon, on my dais as each dress was slipped on to me. The customers were able to examine the dress closely while enjoying some finger food, courtesy of the salon. Then I was stripped naked and the next dress was displayed on the mannequin, me. The show took about four hours, most of the customers stayed for the entire show. After the customers left Sis added up her sales, thrilled beyond belief when she found she had sold sixty three dresses in the four hours of the show. During the show she was so busy dressing me and then writing orders up as my latest dress was scrutinized by the shoppers. She knew she was doing good, but had no idea it was this good.

I was thrilled for her, her dream of making a living off her sewing coming true for her. But a mannequin does not speak so a smile was my only way to tell her I was proud of her. She did embrace me, hugged me and even kissed the top of my ear. I tried to resist running to wash it off, but she just held me tighter keeping me there. She was acting frisky, the kiss just her way of showing love for me. The urge finally left me, I just wilted into her arms, laying my head on her shoulder. I was scolded right away, a lowly mannequin does not move, I guess we will have to see that does not happen again. I stood there as things were packed away, Francine and her in deep conversation on the other side of the room. Then back in my box, my home away from home, and loaded back on the bus.

True to her word at least one day a week I am her sister, where we spend the whole day just being two females. We shop, eat at fancy restaurants even though I know I will pay the price when I am back in mannequin mode. A movie now and then but the main diversion is shopping, as we hit every shop in sight. Trying on clothes, rummaging for deals and finding just the right lingerie to make us both feel sexy. Sis has even arranged for dates for us every once in a while, a little interaction with the male of the species. There is no doubt of my gender, in most cases Sis is jealous because I look better than she does. That could be because I am in every salon before we do the dress show, being primped and made to look even more ravishing. I might add a time I enjoy as much as being a lowly mannequin.

We have nearly completed touring half of the salons, one success after another. A temporary delay was experienced as we had to postpone a few salons so Sis could catch up with her sewing. Francine hauled my ass into the nearest salon as Sis did her sewing, vowing to keep me entertained and out of trouble. I was worked on, pampered and even did a stint as a mannequin in the middle of her salon. I think Francine is more demented than my sister, often approaching me when I am in mannequin mode and running her hands all over my body. She often gets me to break concentration, running her finger up under my dress, and then inserting it in my slit. As she withdraws her finger she makes slurpy noises and then inserts it deep in her mouth and moans. See what I have to put up with, first my sister and now Francine.

Our schedule was revamped, now more time between each stop, time necessary for Sis to get the dresses finished before we do it all over again. More time for Francine to play with me, I complain when I am not in mannequin mode, but secretly I love it.

We did find out from Mom that Francine had paid off the mortgage on her house, even paying for new appliances for her kitchen. Of course, Francine denied it but we knew better. I am happy, every fantasy I have dreamed of has become reality, a safe place to live and two people close to me that care for me. A lot of people might see my life as boring, but as my body is froze in place doing my mannequin impersonation my mind is exploring all of the feelings that result from that. Helpless, unable to move and talk, stuck in female mode and clothing, a most wonderful situation to be in, at least for me.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca