Vanna; Fantasy For Lovers

Vanna; Fantasy For Lovers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Babs; A Bimbo's Life

Babs; A Bimbo's Life

My wife and I had taken over the business from her parents when they retired. Her Mom still looked in occasionally on how we were doing but her husband loved golf, so he was on some course playing with his clubs and his balls. Yes it has always been a joke that he did play with his balls when out golfing. He didn’t find it funny, so the little he was around us he was either watching TV or on his computer playing a game. Yes, the computer game was based on golf, obviously the man was obsessed.

Of course, he joined a country club, one of the most prestigious in the area, the fact that it took an hour to get there made no difference to him. Their golf course was one of the most highly rated courses in the state, thus the reason for joining the country club. Belonging to that country club came with a price, ten thousand dollars for a one year membership. He did try to get his wife to move closer to the country club but that idea died an instant death, his wife wanting nothing to do with that premise.

The terms of the takeover stated that on our twenty-first birthday we would take over the running of the business. We had married when we were eighteen and in our freshman year of college. Both of us quite intelligent finishing high school a year early and then graduated from college in three years. Angie my wife majored in psychology and business management mainly personnel management. I chose business management also but took courses in accounting. We knew what we would be doing when we graduated so tried to plan accordingly.

We held equal positions in the company, any major decision had to have both of our approvals. Otherwise Angie handled personnel and sales and I handled shipping and accounting. The few positions not in those departments were handled by both of us. Surprisingly we did well right from the start, the decisions we made seemed to be right for the time and circumstances, the business flourishing under our leadership. Her Mom still kept an eye on us, it turns out she was the one that had built the company up to what it was when we took over, although to hear her husband tell the story it would have went to hell without his leadership. Anybody that knew him very well considered that statement ludicrous.

Angie and I set up a time every day for us to discuss what was going on and what things we needed to do to handle the specific situation. Usually we agreed without any debate but when Angie wanted to hire her BFF as a salesperson I voiced my opinion. It is her decision, but from my exposure to Becky I could not see her as a salesperson ever. She was good looking, dressed sharply but otherwise was your typical Bimbo. I figured she had an IQ of eighty, if that high. She skipped around as she talked in any conversation, very often in a valley girl accent. Quite often she would change topics right in the middle of a conversation, no reason for doing it and definitely not anything relevant to the earlier part of the discussion.

I kept it up, my campaign to exclude her, for the next four weeks as Becky was given a job as a secretary to acquaint herself with the company and who some of the employees were. Every time I was around here, that bimbo like behavior was evident, so I made a few comments to others, most of them agreed with me, the others remaining quiet about the whole situation. Looking back that should have been my approach, but Becky was just so blatant about her behavior, convincing me that our company was not the place for her ever. Angie listened to me often spout my distaste for her decision to hire her, always playing with her phone when I was doing so. The reports back from her supervisor as a secretary were favorable, Becky doing an adequate job and performing all that was asked of her quietly and in a satisfactory manner. Next was a week of sales orientation for Becky, then after that was completed she would be unleashed as a full pledged salesperson.

Of course, I kept up my assault on Angie’s decision, for some reason Becky was like a thorn in my side, the only satisfactory solution would be to remove the thorn. Again from the sales instructor Becky received passing marks. Again a logical point for me to cease and desist my attack and see how she does out in the real world. But no I was on a mission, one way or another I was going to succeed somehow in denying her continued employment.

The day before Becky joined the sales force Angie had me summoned from a meeting I had with several financial people for a meeting with her. As soon as my meeting was over I went to see what she wanted. It was in our joint office, a work table over to the side of our desks laid out with all matter of papers and reports. She asked me to sit next to her at the head of that table. She turned on a tape recorder that was next to her, a tool we used often to record exactly what was said, eliminating any misunderstandings on what was actually said between us in subsequent meetings.

She placed a proposed agreement directly in front of us, telling me to read it aloud and then sign it. “It concerns Becky and your willful disrespect for her as an employee. It is a bet between us, concerning how she does in the next four weeks. The winner of that bet will take over the running of this company solely, the loser stepping aside to allow this.” I quickly turned to look at her, to see if she was joking. For either of us this would be a major step.

“I have a recording of most of your insults and concerns concerning Becky. As far as I know she has never done anything to you to cause this kind of attitude from you. As far as the business is concerned this kind of talk and attitude is very counterproductive to the operation of the business. Several employees have come to me to voice their opinion, filing a complaint about your behavior. Most fear if you are not stopped they may fall prey to your next attack on an employee. Those requests are written and signed by the employees in that pile, fifteen complaints so far.”

“So with the voice recordings of your objections to her hiring and the ones from other employees I have fifty-one instances of you stepping out of line with regards to an employee. I must remind you that personnel is not in your jurisdiction, and that Becky failing points a finger at me not you. Therefore the bet. Read the agreement out loud for the tape recording and then we will discuss it.”

I swallowed hard a couple of times finally finding my voice and started reading the agreement. “The following is an agreement (bet) between Angie Walker and Jean Walker, co-CEO’s of this company. The bet concerns the progress of Becky Sutherland, an employee with this company, as an outside salesperson. The duration is for four weeks, twenty-eight days to be specific. In her position as a salesperson she is to be furnished no leads that are generated within the company, only ones that she comes up with on her own. If she meets her sales goals her continued employment is to be assured. For the purpose of this bet if she exceeds that weekly goal then Jean Walker will consent to changes necessary for him to resemble a bimbo his apparent favorite type of person. Simply put a twenty percent increase above goals will result in two changes, a thirty percent increase three changes and so on. The changes will be freely accepted and arranged for by Jean Walker, himself. One instance of disregard of company policies and rules will be canceled out when a change has been submitted to.”

“If Becky Sutherland does not meet her goals, that will be noted and three recurring instances will result in her dismissal from employment. Angie Walker will lose one week’s pay for each instance of Becky not meeting her goals.”

“At the end of the four week period the winner of the bet, will become sole CEO of the company and the loser will step down from any managerial position. It will be done of their own free will with no coercion or outside influences involved.”

After reading the agreement I just sat there, kind of numb to anything going on around me. There is definitely a lot at stake here, I could see me winning easily, not that I wanted Angie out of the company, but if I lost I am sure she would be relieved to see me go. Angie never stated it out loud, but I am sure the thought was there just below the surface all along. I am sure her Mother would be glad to drive me home that day, when I had to resign. The deal with both of us as CEO’s was done to accommodate our marriage, not because her Mother had any faith in me helping Angie run her company.

I couldn’t find anything wrong with the agreement, although I did have a few questions about the changes to become a bimbo. After voicing them Angie just pointed to a picture of Becky in her employment file, my apparent ideal bimbo. “The changes necessary to make you resemble Becky as far as modern science and beauty treatments can provide. Remember you have to willingly embrace the changes as if you want them for yourself, not because you have to have them done.”

“I will take any refusal to embrace what comes about as failure to uphold your part of the agreement and will then ask for your resignation from the company. If you will not own up to an agreement you willingly sign and enter into, you have no place here. I would imagine at that time it will also cause a rift in our marriage, the later to suffer failure. I have been greatly disturbed by your behavior lately, the person I married and loved before seems to have vanished into something I do not recognize.”

“So if you agree sign on the dotted line, if you want no part of this I suggest we seek the proper attorneys and explore divorce before it gets any worse between us. I am sure we can divide things amicably between us, or at least I hope we can.”

I picked up a pen, signed and dated the agreements and passed them over to Angie, she did the same and it was done. Now we both had signed copies of this new part of our life, I got up from the chair and pulled her into a hug, then kissed her on the lips. Before she could say anything I apologized for getting carried away, with my previous track record she should not be surprised. Then as she cuddled under my arm and put her arms around my chest, she whispered that I will look cute as a Becky lookalike, you know I have never had a play toy before, a life size toy to dress and play with, I can’t wait. I gave her a look, but chose to ignore her statement. I am sure I will win hands down, maybe making the gesture to keep Angie as co-CEO to mend a damaged fence. Thinking back I had got careless and damaged a bunch of those fences, not even realizing I had done so at the time.

I followed Becky’s progress each day, in fact the first thing every morning that was the first place I headed to. Angie caught me looking at the sales figures several mornings, just smiled wanting to know if I had decided what hair color I wanted in my portrayal as a Bimbo. She was doing alright, nearing her sales goals but with only a few days left in the week I doubted she would make it. Then Friday evening the last sales had been posted and I checked on Becky’s figures. She had beat her sales goal by a thousand dollars, quite a feat for a new sales person. Then Angie told me Becky had an appointment with another prospective client Saturday morning, so that figure might get even better. I wanted to know why she was working Saturday, Angie just smiled, for a bimbo she is quite motivated, wanting to excel and show others my choice of her as an employee was not wrong. I put my head down in shame, most likely I was that employee.

I sweated all weekend, I would not find out her final sales figure until Monday morning, when she brought in her paperwork from the weekend. I knew I would experience one change already but how many more were to come? Maybe she would fail to get them as customers and I would be saved from even more embarrassment.

Well Monday morning was pure hell from the time I got up until I made it to the office. I accessed the figures for all of the salespeople and instantly the day went from bad to horrible. At the top of the list was Becky, now our top salesperson for the week. I looked at the figures and let out a moan.

Yes, a male can moan like a female when faced with very disturbing news. A sixty percent increase over her sales goals and now my week suddenly went to pot. To top it off, Angie told me Becky was already calling on prospective customers this morning, at a little after nine AM. I tried to get focused on my job, but nothing seemed to matter anymore. I was on a slippery slope and someone had turned on the water making it even harder to keep from sliding in.

I asked Angie where I needed to go to get the changes for the week. She smiled but did not tease me about it. I was handed a card, the information I needed on it. I was to see Julia, my technician to administer the changes. I made the call, getting an appointment for later today. From Angie I learned that Julia had been given a list of my favorite bimbo traits, my changes to be taken from that list. The first week nothing obvious would be done to me that would show, but in later weeks nothing was to be withheld. I did get a little work done, but it was very little. Angie was there to give me a kiss as I headed off to my appointment, her smirk quite obvious.

I was amazed at my first view of the salon. Not anything like I had imagined when making the appointment. I was quickly led by Julia back to her styling area, then seated in her chair. The chair was leaned back and my hair washed and conditioned. I had allowed my hair to get longer than usual, the length now approaching the bottom of my neck. The chair was set back up and I was handed a set of earbuds like you see on a Walkman. The cord led to a unit setting on her counter and the soft sound of music filled my ears. My hair was cut in a feminine style, causing me to panic some till she brushed it back into a unisex type of haircut. My eyebrows were thinned some but other than being less noticeable it did not change my appearance that much.

She then had me stand, as she undid my belt buckle and let my pants drop to my ankles. My boxers followed suit as she had me lean forward. I felt something pushed against my left cheek and then she used a blow dryer aimed at the same area. I wondered what she had done till she held a mirror so that I could see the tattoo like word she had applied to my ass. In a very feminine script it stated Bimbo. The word not being the worst part, the size of the letters was, the B in Bimbo almost four inches high. I was told it is permanent, I would not have to worry about it coming off in the shower or bath. She had me step out of my pants taking my boxers and throwing them in her wastebasket. I was handed a frilly pair of panties, satin no less and she helped get them up my legs and into position. I was helped back into my pants, the pants sliding over the panties a fact not easily ignored. I was short of breath, having a difficult time to keep my heart from beating so hard. It also affected junior, my jeans being quite baggy the only thing keeping his reaction to the panties from being seen.

I counted four things so far, knowing I still had two more to go. I knew my fate when I entered the salon, so I kept quiet the whole time, really not much can be said when suffering these treatments. I know I was still shocked about the tattoo, something forever identifying me as a bimbo. Maybe not seen by others but still there. I know I will forever be aware of its presence. I am already wishing I had kept quiet about Angie hiring Becky, a thought I will be pondering many times in the following weeks.

The chair leaned back once again and I received a facial, including a facial mask to improve the looks of my skin. An hour later my face was velvety smooth, and surprisingly clear and lighter in color. The facial mask will stop any further hair growth, now the only hair on my face and neck is my thinner eyebrows. She next moved my hands into two bowls of liquid, I was going to receive a manicure, the sixth item of change. It took her two hours to remove any cuticle, file my nails into neat ovals and apply four coats of polish. In those coats of polish was a base coat, two coats of a clear polish, and a clear sealer over everything else. The clear sealer will keep the polish from chipping, and keep me from removing it until my next visit to the salon. My nails looked shiny, but other than that I thought it would not be noticed that much.

I had to sign at the front for what was done to me and carry a note back to Angie letting her know exactly what changes had been performed on my body. I presume that was done to make sure Angie knew exactly what Bimbo traits had been given me, so there would be no hiding or disguising of any of the changes by me.

When I got back to the office Angie was waiting for me her hand held out in front of her waiting for the note. I handed it over, blushing bright red, knowing she would soon be aware of my tattoo. Sure enough she took my hand and led me into our private office, undid my belt and dropped my pants to the floor. Her hand caressing the panties as she slid them down my legs. Then a squeal as she bent me over the desk and examined my tramp stamp. She ran her hand over it many times, tracing the letters with a little extra emphasis when she got to the letter B of Bimbo. She finally let me up telling me that tonight there will be further exploration down there so not to plan anything different. I backed away, this is a side of Angie I had never experienced. She made sure my pants got up and buckled running her hand over my swollen penis through the material, then grabbing it and squeezing it just for fun. Yes the panties were brought up first, then slid over my penis several times, causing me to groan more than once.

Well getting anything else done today was out, for one thing my erection was tenting my pants out obscenely and would not go down. I sat at my desk trying to think pure thoughts but an hour later I was still rock hard. To be able to get to the car and eventually home I needed to do something, so I went to our private bathroom dropped my pants again for the third time today and jerked off. Of course just as I was spurting into the sink Angie walked in, swatted my hands away and milked me empty. One hand on my penis and the other hand tracing my tramp stamp with her finger. I was left to clean myself up, then made my way back to my desk. I don’t think I will be able to handle many days like this, and remain sane. As I sat there I closed my eyes, picturing my lips coated in a shiny pink lipstick, the taste of it as I ran my tongue over my lips delightful. I turned my head and the sway of my soon to be earrings brushing against my neck added to the feelings, and I shivered and let out another low moan.

My eyes shot open, wondering if that moan was heard by anybody. Yep it was, as Angie came in reached down and kissed me on the lips and then licked hers as if she tasted something. I got up and ran to the bathroom mirror to see if I was wearing lipstick, letting out a huge sigh when I noticed my lips were the same as always. I did manage to escape the office without further difficulty. Angie picked up some take out on the way home, while I was just lucky to make it home. She found me in our bedroom naked and trying to see how bad the tattoo made me look. I was almost in tears, forever marked as a bimbo all because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and let things work themselves out.

Of course, Angie clearing her throat and smiling increased the redness in my cheeks, then scurrying for something to wear to hide the source of my embarrassment. As Angie walked up to me my lacy panties dangling from her finger, a huge smile plastered on her face. I grabbed them and pulled them up my legs as fast as I could my hard as a rock erection preventing them laying right. Angie placed her hand around my penis and led me back to the bathroom, squirting some hand lotion on her palm as she passed the vanity. A few pumps and I emptied my load into the bathroom sink. She hugged me, then dragged me by my male organ back downstairs informing me that I needed some food to keep up my strength for later tonight.

I was hand fed dinner bite by bite, then hauled up to our bed and told to stay. I stuck out my tongue in defiance but her kissing me and almost swallowing my tongue at the same time left me speechless. For the next four hours that is where I stayed, just like an obedient pet. Half way through the bedroom activities I was laid face down on the bed and my anus lubed up real good. Then I felt something large and hard pressing against my rosebud. Oh gawd was all I managed as she pushed it gently into my rear hole, then back out and then back in. I was lost in moans and tears as she fucked me with her dildo, while rubbing her hand over my tramp stamp. I guess from that moment on I was her bimbo, literally.

Sometime later I slipped off into dreamland, dreaming of being filled by my lover. By morning I was slightly recovered, getting dressed and making my way to the office. I think I managed to get my new hairstyle to look unisex, but several of the guys whistling at my appearance squashed that notion. I hurried to get to the safety of my office only to find her mother there sitting in my chair. She got up and came to me intending to do a thorough inspection of my new appearance. After fifteen minutes she smiled and took my hand and dragged me to the secretary’s desk outside our offices. She sat me down in the chair, suggesting that here would be a better use of my talents what little I had. I started to say something in return, then swallowed hard, the words never leaving my throat. She made a phone call and soon someone from personnel was there having me sign an application for a job. I looked at her Mom, the look I received had me signing it and then she left with the lady from personnel. That is where Angie found me, my head in my hands sobbing quietly in my misery.

Well Babs it seems you have finally found your rightful spot here at Walker Enterprises. Get you note pad and a pencil and come into my office. I looked at her in puzzlement, Babs where did that come from. I found a pad and a pencil and followed her into her office. She sat in her chair while I was made to stand. I tried twice to sit in the other chair in front of her desk, both times she shook her head and told me to remain standing.

Memo to all employees, as of today my husband has taken a well-deserved three week vacation from his duties. Later today a new employee Babs will handle some of those duties temporarily. Please make her feel welcome, and give her your fullest cooperation in all matters. Write that up and send it to all employees. I opened my mouth twice but again no words escaped. Go back to the salon and have them assist you in picking some work outfits appropriate for a secretary. Heels as well, as I know you would want to look your best at all times. Everything else stays the same, no makeup with your hair as it is now. If when you get back any employee that guesses who you really are you are to admit it openly and then go on about your job as my secretary as if everything else is normal. Remember Becky your idol received quite satisfactory remarks as a secretary. I hope you can do the same. This position is until the bet is concluded one way or the other. Now I want to see that memo in my inbox within ten minutes, then off to the salon for you. I typed it up on my computer then selected how it was to be distributed and hit send. I was not sure whether to break down in tears or head to the salon.

I ended up at the salon, Julia waiting for me with open arms. I got hugged her holding me for quite some time in her embrace. Then she helped me pick fifteen outfits appropriate for a young secretary. I even got a couple pair of pants to wear, although the color and style not anything that a male would ever wear. I was dressed in one of the blazers with a white blouse underneath it, then the matching pants to the blazer. I did receive a lot of underwear, no bras yet though. The assortment of panties and the slips to go with the skirts constituted much of the lingerie. Two girdles to wear with the skirts since the skirts were very tight through the ass and thighs. I returned to work, my car loaded down with clothes and three pairs of shoes. The shoes were all heels, in basic colors to go with my outfits. Luckily for me the heels were blocky, so walking in them was not that difficult, although the heel height was nearing three inches.

I made it as far as the secretary’s desk I was to work at before Angie saw me. I was dragged back to her office and kissed so hard. She apologized for her Mom getting involved in this, but considering how I looked right now, she thinks it was a wise decision. At this point I should have just gave in, let Angie win the bet and step down from any management position. Peace in the family and a viable marriage the reward for doing this. I still had this idea that I would win eventually, so the stakes stayed the same, but now I was working as a secretary. If Becky could succeed at this position I am sure that I can too. The male mind is so stubborn, even faced with unquestionable facts it persists as if everything will correct itself. Now with me dressed as a female, tattooed and a hairless face, you would think that some brain activity might kick in. I guess along with the six changes, my mind got a dose of acute Bimboitis.

I ended up being so busy as her secretary that I completely forgot about Becky. Most of my duties were fetching things for people, coffee, or a file for them to look at, or delivering a message to someone else in the company even though we have a quite good email system. I imagine they just wanted to see me dressed as a female and doing their bidding. It was Monday of the next week when I got called into Angie’s office. She told me that I am excused from work today as a secretary, since I needed to be at the salon for most of today and part of tomorrow. Still no light coming on upstairs, I guess I am getting this bimbo behavior down pat. Angie having to repeat herself several times to finally get my attention. Becky’s sales were up one hundred and thirty percent over her goal, so I had thirteen more steps to experience. I looked at her with a blank expression, so what has that got to do with me. So Angie repeated her statement again, explaining carefully that I was going to the salon and have thirteen more things done to me so that I will appear more feminine in my looks, further steps on my goal to become a bimbo like I imagined Becky to be.

That didn’t sound right somehow, I was not trying to become a bimbo like Becky, but now that I am thinking about it I am not sure exactly what my goal was. Angie had one of the male sales people drive me to the salon, then she would pick me up there tonight when she got off work. I haven’t felt comfortable driving anymore, the whole thing with a car just seems too complicated.

Once at the salon I was whisked back to a treatment room, lots of things to do on my list for the next couple of days. One of the first things was the headphones, the music played on them so soothing and relaxing. I eagerly took them from the lady swiftly slipping them over my ears and letting out a sigh. The music so relaxing, so I just let my mind wander.

I was kind of out of it for some reason, although I felt it when two cups were glued to my chest and hoses hooked up to the cups. A pump staring pulling tissue from my chest into the cups, Oh goody I am getting breasts. Quite sizable ones according to the cup size. The lady said something about D’s, whatever that means.

Next they moved between my legs, moving my feet wide apart so they could work on my little fella. I know he was excited as they fondled him, until they sprayed something on him and I lost all feeling down there. I hope he is happy wherever they have put him.

The music was so soothing, making me lose track of what is going on, but so comforting too. When the lady held up a mirror so that I could see what was done there was nothing but a slit left, just like what Angie has. It looked so neat and clean not a hair to be seen just two luscious lips surrounding an inviting slit.

When I was moved to another chair to get my hair washed and conditioned, there was nothing to get in my way for putting my thighs together, I squealed a little, that is so cool. I slipped off into dreamland several times as she was fussing with my hair, the one time I remembered a little my hair was filled with pieces of foil, wow I look like an alien this way. It seemed like she worked on my hair forever, I really didn’t care I had my music, it is so soothing. The last time my eyes opened and were able to focus on something my hair seems almost pink in color and was now almost to my waist. It seemed heavier, making me hold my head differently because of the weight.

My fingernails were next to be worked on, as half inch extensions were added to each nail. I received a pale pink polish, the color going well with my new hair color. My toenails were made to match as each toe sported the cute vibrant color. I was so excited the polish so cool, and me being able to wear it to work a real treat.

My eyebrows were eliminated, the wax strip being yanked off made me aware of this change. I batted my eyelashes at the mirror, the lack of eyebrows making my eyes look bigger. Then she added hundreds of individual eyelashes to my own, making my eyes stand out even more. I wanted to say pop, but maybe that was a bad choice of words.

My ears were pierced, the tech using a gun like thingy pointing at my ears to make the holes. She added three pair of earrings to the new holes, with me going berserk at the cute earrings that I now get to wear. The long dangle earring at the bottom of the ear lobe was fun to play with, hitting it with my finger and then watching it sway back and forth.

She used a lipstick on my lips three times, letting it sink in before applying another coat. My lips tingled at each application of the lipstick, but each time she added a coat they looked fatter and much sexier. Yeah, now when I get kissed it will be so much fun.

Right before she worked on my lips she put the calf of my leg in a form, strapping it tightly to the form. If the form was not there it would be like I was standing on my tip toes. I wiggled my toes, the pink polish looking so cute on my toes, maybe the forms will shape my calves to look sexier.

As my hair was being taken out of the curlers, the lady was talking to me, listening to what I had to say and stopping to spray something down my throat every once in a while. My voice seemed different, higher and almost squeaky. I loved it trying to drag the lady closer so I could give her a hug for making me sound so good.

Once the forms were removed from my legs, a pair of sexy high heels were slipped on my feet and buckled. The heel was almost six inches tall, with only a thin strap around my ankle holding them on my feet. I squealed when I saw how my feet looked in the heels, hoping I could get more heels like this in other colors. I looked at the tiny buckles, wondering how my new fingernails would ever get them undone. But then why would I want to take them off, looking as good as they do on my feet. I looked in the mirror my stockings shiny and silky, the heels a perfect match to the look.

Once my hairstyle was finished, the tape that had been playing the music for me to listen to was removed from the player and slid into my purse, a keepsake for me for later. I got some lipstick to match my nails and then was taken to the front for my ride.

Angie, was there and grabbed my hand leading me out to her car. She helped me get situated in the passenger seat, then drove us home. I was led into the house and to our bedroom, undressed and pushed back on the bed. She played with me for hours, manipulating my stiff nipples and putting things into my cute slit. I was kissed, groped and otherwise played with like I was a toy.

I had to call a time out, I needed to pee real bad, Angie watching me running to the bathroom, on my tip toes since I couldn’t walk with my feet flat on the floor and giggling away. I sat on the toilet, then felt a release of liquid from between my legs. I had to wipe with toilet paper twice to get it somewhat dry. Back on my toes to get back to the bed, Angie pointing to some heeled bedroom slippers for me to slip on. Once on I was led to the kitchen, still naked, my breasts bouncing wildly as I followed her. She pointed to one of our bar stools, and I tried to get my tush up on it. It took me three attempts, with me laughing and giggling at my failed attempts to do such a simple task.

She sat right next to me taking one of my hands in hers and staring me in the face. “You need to listen to me carefully. You are no longer a male, today’s treatments have left you as a bimbo, your life long wish. Most everything done to you is permanent unless I want it reversed. The music you have been listening to has helped reduce your IQ and left you with a lot of mannerisms suited for a bimbo like you. I still love you, but let’s face it your behavior recently has been counterproductive for anyone in management. I need you to sign this paper, stating that you are stepping down as a member of management. I can find a job for you, one that you can handle with your limited IQ or you can elect to be my full time wife and play toy, the choice is yours.”

I squealed, you are going to play with me more? She shook her head but pointed to the paper. I signed taking time to make little hearts on top of several of my letters. She folded up the paper and put it in her purse, then kissed me and hugged me close. I whispered in her ear, I will take the bimbo wife and play toy option thank you. As for your plan to remove me from management it did work, your mother should be happy. I do suggest to maximize profits in the next quarter you need to increase the inventory kept on hand, trends show an increase in customer’s disposable income. It might also be wise to add that extra sales person now, their salary easily offset by the increase in sales.

Now can you give me one of your charge cards, I need some new colors of lipstick ones that will match with my platinum blonde hair. Could you stop and pick up some take out for us later, you know how hopeless I am at cooking anything. Now where is Shawn, my driver, I need to get to the mall before the stores get crowded with the evening rush. Ciao Angie.

As I turned around to see if she understood me I saw her mouth open and little noises coming from within. Yep it is really fun being a bimbo, my life long desire and now full time occupation. Let me at the stores, I need clothes, cosmetics and jewelry.

I did get the clothes I wanted, and while out and about made a standing appointment at the salon, a necessity for someone like me. I definitely planned on being a high maintenance Bimbo, in fact I am looking forward to it.

Although I had chosen the Bimbo wife and play toy option, Angie soon had me back at work as her secretary. I am old news now in the company, nobody making any comments or remarks about my appearance and actions.

Incidentally, Becky and I are now good friends, often having lunch together several times a week. She is happy for me, my plan to become a Bimbo working out so well for me. Yes, Becky was in on it all along, with me supplying her a few sales leads to make sure she did well. As always where there is a will, there is a way.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Yvonne: Loved And Treasured

Yvonne: Loved And Treasured

I slipped on my sweats quickly, having only a few minutes to get down to the main floor of the dorms to await my ride to the salon. The trip to the salon was not one I was looking forward to, but one that couldn’t be avoided.

A little history of this soon to be adult. I have been in this particular boarding school for five years now, a few weeks from graduating hopefully. Mother was the reason for me being here, divorced now and trying hard to keep a roof over our head. Her longtime school friend ran the boarding school, offering to allow me to go to the school for free. The school was not really out any money, since the room had to be maintained anyway and she was short a few students from a full enrollment.

The school stressed academics and excellent grades were expected from all of their students. That made getting the good grades harder since to get an A you had to score 98 or higher on a test. In regular schools 85 usually got you an a A.

If the parent wished a reward/incentive could be added to the students file to be implemented to reward or provide an incentive for higher grades. In my case Mom added the incentive, since she was pretty sure there would be no money for college unless I managed a scholarship. I had no idea what the incentive was, but did know at what point it would be applied to me.

I guess I was looking ahead at leaving the school and let my grades slip a little. Unfortunately they slipped past the point of applying the incentive. I had an idea what she might have arranged; a specific incentive since the length of my hair has been a major point of contention between us ever since I came to the school. I liked long hair and resisted any attempts at cutting it. The school had some rules in place, male hair length not allowed past the bottom of the ears. To evade the scissors I had to wear it in a ponytail, with a pink ribbon bow. That was the compromise that Mom and the head mistress had worked out allowing me to keep the long hair.

Mom told me in a matter of fact way that any more discussion on the subject would end up with me in curls. She didn’t like long hair on me, it would make getting a job difficult or impossible for me. I know she was trying to see that after school I would be able to provide for myself, but I somehow didn’t think having longish hair would keep me from finding some employment. So at best a stalemate was achieved as long as I wore the bow in my hair.

Yes, I was embarrassed by the bow often, but was steadfast in keeping my long hair. I got kidded, even the females in the school getting involved. I frequently had lipstick applied to my lips, one girl in particular catching me and removing my bow, running away with it. That would require me to head back to my dorm room and obtain another bow, before I was caught by a faculty member and written up.

The males were not to be left out, the number of times my male clothes disappeared in gym class too numerous to count. I was always left a dress to wear, now half of my closet in the dorm filled with dresses. My male clothes never did turn up again, it was now getting to the point I had very few male clothes left to wear, surprised I made it this far in my time spent here.

The hair issue did not really get to the point of me having to wear a bow until a year ago when the length of it exceeded the dress code rule. Last look in the closet I had only a few outfits left that would be considered male in looks, since there was still several gym classes left to take not a promising situation to face.

I was unsure about the appointment at the salon Mom had made for me, but there was still a few weeks of school left and the dreaded finals were still to be taken. Plenty of time still for her incentive to have an effect on me and my grades. One of the salon employees was to pick me up, as a favor for my mother. Also not allowing me an easy escape from the appointment.

The lady showed up, and I was shown to her car. The ride was pleasant as she asked about me and my schooling, a real novelty these days to find someone actually interested in others. It turned out she would also be the one treating me today. Everything was explained in detail, I was going to receive extra long hair extensions in a lighter hair color, making my hair appear frosted. A style cut into the hair with long bangs that could be swept to one side or the other and the rest layered down my back. Curls courtesy of a setting lotion so that one looking at the back of my head would see layers of curls all the way down my back. Since the hair will be so long I will need to put it in a braid every night to keep the tangles manageable. Today she will show me how to do the braid and make sure I could perform the task myself.

At the salon we talked as she was adding the extensions wanting to know about the relationship between myself and my mother. I explained my mother wanting to be sure I could get a college scholarship, that the main reason for the emphasis on my grades and her preference for short hair. I admitted to my grades slipping some, in actuality only a half percentage point drop, thus apparently putting me at the point where the incentive would be employed. We talked about other things then she suggested instead of fighting my Mom why didn’t I embrace the change, taking the incentive a step or two beyond what was intended. If I then applied myself a little more maybe another avenue might open up, a way to still get my scholarship without all the stress and worry.

It sounded good, what did I have to lose. With the new longer locks I will not be classified as a male member of society, no male has hair down to their waist and in curls. I am sure somewhere in the fine print a bow and ribbons will show up, either as part of what Mom had planned or as part of the school dress code as it applies to me. We agreed on some breast forms, pierced ears and long polished nails to start with. Enough to move me to the female category, but still be loosely considered a male gender wise. I did hesitate asking that nothing else be done until I saw my new hairstyle when finished.

Well it was far worse than I imagined, I now looked like a fashion model, the frosted look of the two colors of hair really doing a job on what little masculinity I might have had left. She did show me how to put it in a braid, at that point I saw that the longer hair and its effect on me was only the beginning. Now at least an hour a night, brushing and braiding my hair would be necessary to maintain it. After the second attempt of putting my hair in a braid my arms ached, from having them above my head for so long, trying to fashion the braid.

I decided to go ahead with the step beyond concerning the incentive. The nails were first, extensions added to my existing nails and painted a pink in color. Then my ears pierced, small diamond studs inserted to keep the holes from closing up. I almost chickened out when I saw the size of the breast forms, even though she said there were the right size for my body. After she glued them on my chest I swallowed hard, these are going to change everything about my life. I actually thought a loose top or shirt would conceal them, I was wrong. Very wrong.

The bill had already been paid by Mom, although I don’t think she had anticipated my additions to her planned incentive. Then I made my way home, the thought now appearing in my befuddled mind that I would have to face her with my additions, with no idea how to explain why I had chosen them. Maybe this was not such a good idea. My mode of transportation to my home was the bus, an entirely different experience looking so much like a female.

As I entered the house she was waiting for me, checking me out and even poking my new breasts. I opened my mouth in surprise, I actually felt her poke me, impossible I would think since it was only a breast form. She smiled, a bigger then ever smile, lighting up the whole room. I backed up a little, this in not what I was expecting from her. Where is the yelling and screaming, the lecture about how this ruins everything?

She grabbed my hand and led me to my bedroom, sitting me on the edge of the bed. I looked at her, then around the room, my jaw dropping, my heart stopping mid beat and my hands getting clammy and cold. This is not my room, where am I? Frilly curtains, walls painted a light apple green and pictures of females in evening wear adorning the walls. Mirrors on my closet door and inside nothing but dresses and skirts. A vanity over by the window, its top loaded with makeup of every kind. My focus was back to my Mom now, her larger than life smile still there.

“I see we have arrived at the same destination even though we have taken different paths to get there. What you have done has saved me weeks of fiddling and scheming, so thank you in advance. Now you are officially my daughter, a cute pretty female that is quite smart. That intelligence along with your looks will get you everything in life, so you are now prepared for a life of a female, to be taken care of, to be loved and to be treasured by your spouse. A batting of those eyelashes and anything else you may want is yours. No need for the scholarship now for collage, this will get you farther than any degree could possibly do for you.

Change into something more revealing and we will eat out tonight, we may even be able to find a young man that might be interested in you yet today. Who knows. Oh wear the pink ribbons in your hair, they go with everything. You look so cute with that long curly hair.

So apparently I had played right into her hands, saving her the trouble of scheming to get me to experience the same thing. I did wear the pink bows and ribbons as I gathered up the mass of curls into a very loose ponytail situated low on my head.

I was not ready for the reaction of others to my new femininity. Especially the stares from anything resembling a male. From the car to the restaurant I was constantly ogled, even a few with their mouth open in lust. The waiter while taking our orders seemed obsessed with me, his eyes seldom left my breasts, although I think he was also fascinated with my hair, as close as he was standing next to me. I mean he was never more than an inch or two from my body, with him having to stare straight down to see me. While Mom was having a giggling fit he checked my water and iced tea four times during the meal making sure it was filled to the brim. I even got a free dessert, one that I shared with my Mother, mainly to keep her from giggling or outright laughing at me. As we left the restaurant she just smiled at me, yes the world is now obtainable for her daughter, but she does need a new wardrobe.

So we went shopping, five hours of traipsing through every store in the mall, trying on hundreds of clothing possibilities to see if it was suitable for her daughter. Mom spent nearly eight hundred dollars on me that evening, then I remembered I still had a couple of weeks of school left. So with my new figure, female clothes the likely attire for my remaining weeks of school.

My fellow students treated me just like a real female, the trouble I had in the past never to appear again. I did do better in my studies, I presume since I was still getting used to my new body and clothes a lot less masculine to distract me. Whatever the reason my grades improved significantly, five A’s and one A minus for my final grades. That resulted in me graduating in the top third of my class, a feat for this former male to be sure.

Oh, I was dressed as a female for my graduation, my wardrobe now exclusively for the female gender. My former male clothes, what I had left of them, vanished that first week never to re-appear again.

I still wear the pink bows, not because I have to but because they looked good with my new wardrobe. Mom did like pink anything, the majority of my new attire in that color or shades thereof. After graduation the school held an open house for potential employers to meet the new graduates and maybe connect with someone they might like to hire. I was dressed to the nines for the open house, Mom made sure of that. Along with the clothes I received a new name, Mom deciding the name Yvonne was perfect for me. A much better choice than my old moniker of Vance.

During the open house I was never alone, lots of people wanting to talk to me and ask questions. I ended up with nine interviews scheduled for the next few days, at their places of business. Mom made sure I was briefed on each business and how to put off any decision till I had attended the other interviews. A new dress was required for each interview, a female can’t be seen wearing the same dress in a month’s time, unwritten rule number one. Shopping again, this time the perfect dress had to be found for each interview. Mom had done the research on each company, what they looked for in their new employees compiling a dossier on each company I had an interview with. Don’t ask me how she found out all of this information, she just did.

Everything worked out, two of the interviews ended up offering me a job, the second one of the two I was in favor of. The male that conducted the interview spent over three hours with me, coercing every bit of information out of me, including the fact that I was born male. It didn’t seem to make a difference, the rest of the interview was carried out as if that bit of info made no difference in his assessment of where I might fit in with the company. In his summation I was offered the job, with him asking me if I could start immediately. Of course I told him yes, he seemed nice and very interested in me, a definite possibility if I was looking for a mate. I did notice he didn’t wear any wedding rings, and that he wrote my phone number down on a separate slip of paper and put that paper in his pocket.

I was told where to report tomorrow and a brief description of my job duties, then he wished me well and the interview was over. I was expecting a hug, but after I eased out of the office, I realized it would be inappropriate at my interview appointment. I can dream though can’t I?

The first week at my new job went well with him checking on my progress daily. I liked the job, fairly easy for me, and my work colleagues accepting me into their work group with open arms. Then the end of the second week Scott came to check on me again. After some small talk, he asked me out to dinner, wanting to talk with me about my job and how I have been treated so far. Whatever the reason I was all for it, I was running out of dresses to win him over, and my salon appointments were already three times a week to make sure I looked beautiful at all times.

Surprisingly there were very few questions about work or how I was being treated, on the dinner date. The time spent talking about me and what I wanted out of life. Then an equal amount of time spent on him, with both of us having the same things in mind for our future.

That Friday was the first of many weekly dates, over the next few months, Recently I got asked to accompany him to his parent’s house for the weekend, that simple act thrilling me immensely. I apparently passed with flying colors, his Mom spending time with me and already treating me like a daughter-in-law. It was exactly three months to the day when I was called into his office for my three month evaluation. He spent well over two hours going over every facet of my job and how I was doing.

Then he paused as he asked me if I would be open to other employment possibilities. I nodded my head, then smiled as he pulled a ring box out of his desk drawer. He scooted off his chair and got on one knee asking me to marry him. After our engagement he wanted me to be a full time wife, tending to his needs and taking care of him.

He moved pretty fast asking me to move in with him a few weeks later, that way I could get an idea of what I could expect as his wife and lover. I was all for that, the kiss that I received when I accepted the ring a tasty treat, leaving me wanting for more, much more. We lived together for a year, when he flew me to Las Vegas for a quick wedding and then to Hawaii for a week long honeymoon. I saw very little of the islands, but the hotel suite we had was quite comfy and adequate for our needs.

My wardrobe has grown exponentially and I still have two salon appointments a week to keep me looking my best. My hair is now down to my butt, kept silky and shiny by the salon staff. I still remember back so long ago when I made the decision to embrace my female self, the best decision I have ever made. Long curly hair was just the start. To be loved and treasured the reward.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Terri; Nailed In Burgundy Polish

 Terri; Nailed In Burgundy Polish

Mom and I were having another one of our discussions, this one was getting a little more intense than previous dialogues. Our parents had five children, me being the youngest. Unfortunately for me all of my siblings are female ranging from one year older to four years older. If Dad had been around I maybe would have had a fighting chance. Dad was one of the unlucky ones, killed when he stepped on a land mine in Iraq. He and seven of his unit lost their lives or were wounded badly that day.

My Mom was devastated, the loss of her husband, with five children to raise. Her sister came to help for a while, during the funeral and the month after helping to sort through the insurance, getting titles changed and a new will put together. My sisters and I were also lost, although we saw more of Mom than we did Dad, he was there for us when we needed it, at our achievements and our disappointments.

I felt like I had lost my only connection to masculinity. My sisters and Mom are females of the girly girl kind. No tomboys here, dresses and miniskirts are the norm, makeup all the time and hairdos sporting curls and ribbons were there favorites. To say I was living in an estrogen environment, would be quite an understatement.

The insurance policy was a hefty one, but it did take almost three months before they paid off. All of the children were young adults, or approaching adult hood. I was the youngest at eighteen, then Beth at age nineteen, Cheri at age twenty, Sue at age twenty-one and finally Nancy at age twenty-two. You can see a trend her, Mom was definitely busy for those five years.

Fast forward a few years from my dad’s death, Mom had her business and it was doing well. Mom had spent the insurance money on the nail salon when Dad died, hoping to have something for later in life and to be able to help us through college if we needed it. Before they married she was a cosmetologist, so she was well qualified to run the business. It did well right from the start, giving her a steady income for expenses and things for us.

All of my sisters had helped Mom in her business for spending money during the summer and after school the rest of the year. Beth decided to join her in the business after high school. Nancy, always the studious one, had earned a four year scholarship for college and was approaching her junior year. Sue was going for her doctorate in Sociology and Cheri was already working, her upstart internet business taking off right from the start.

I had just graduated high school, full of hope, wanting to earn some money for a car. Even before graduation I had filled out countless employment applications all over town, at every spot I could think of to apply. So far nothing, not even an invitation for an interview. I was getting desperate, all of my sisters had earned money working in Mom’s nail salon during the summer, maybe a possibility for me.

When they had found a car and had half of the purchase price Mom would match it and buy the car for them. But I couldn’t even get a foot in the door for a job. I didn’t want to work in a nail salon, much too girly for me, but that seems like the only chance for me. If I can’t find employment elsewhere the nail salon is apparently my only choice. Maybe I could sweep the place or stock the shelves, anything to make that first step toward my dream car.

If I had saved some of my allowance during the years, like my sisters had, I would been closer to my dream. There were too many temptations that I couldn’t pass up, hence the discussion with Mom again about how I could get a car. I was desperate, willing to do almost anything to achieve my goal. I whined about not being able to get a job, about how she had employed my sisters, but would not do so for me. This was a frequent discussion between us, in fact it happened so often my sisters would leave the house when I started the whining, not wanting to listen to my bitching again. I really didn’t know what to expect from the discussions, I guess a miracle somehow. I presume I was just hoping for the impossible.

Several weeks ago a chain of salons approached Mom wanting to add her salon to the chain. For almost a week Mom and Francine from the chain exchanged phone calls on the subject. Then a couple ladies from the chain came to visit, Mom went out to dinner with them a couple of times and then Mom announced on a Friday morning that she had joined that chain. She would be a franchise holder, still owning and operating the salon, but now a part of a larger chain of salons.

Mom gained some financially, so I figured the time was right for another attempt at sharing the wealth. It was after dinner on Friday night when I approached her asking if we could talk. I usually got a scowl from her, she didn’t look forward to these discussions, but tonight I got a big smile. I stepped back a couple of feet, this was new and unexpected. Beth had just got home from a late appointment and was giggling at my reaction to Mom.

When you get a feeling that things are not what you expect, most sane people back off, maybe another time might be better for this discussion. Well-being the idiot that I am I ventured forth with gusto. Mom was quiet as I laid out my case for some help in getting some money for the summer. I told her several times that I would do anything if she would just help me out. I tried to lay some guilt on her, she had helped my sisters why can’t she help me. Nothing but quiet, finally she asked where I had applied for jobs, wanting me to name them. Luckily I had saved a list of who I had applied to, so after retrieving if from my room, I handed it to her.

She looked it over very carefully, taking a few minutes to think about it before she responded. I thought she was softening, so I added one more I will do anything. Beth had been eating at the dining room table, giggling quite often at my antics. Mom gave in finally. “Be at the salon tomorrow morning at eight AM, dressed nicely and I will fill you in on what your job will be if you decide to take it. You can ride in with me or Beth that is your choice. But you have to stay until one of us can leave for the day, most likely five or six PM.”

I hugged her thanking her profusely, she pushed me away a little, remember what I said I am bending the rules a little for you, so be damn sure this is what you want before you accept tomorrow. Once started this is your job for the summer and beyond. I will not have you changing your mind like you have done in the past. If you accept, it is yours for the summer no excuses.

Beth was waiting by her bedroom door for me, wanting to talk to me a little. “I think you are going to be greatly surprised tomorrow, so keep an open mind and what you are working for in your sights. You can do the job, but I am not sure you will want to. Things at the salon have changed with the merger, we are doing a lot more business and have expanded our customer base quite a bit. Just be sure this is what you want, okay Sis.”

I am often referred to as Sis by my sisters, they know it annoys me, always bringing a smile to their face when they use the greeting. I went on down to my room and picked out a nice pair of slacks and a polo shirt for tomorrow. I turned on my stereo and put the headphones on and zoned out for a while. Maybe I could get a car at the end of summer that would be so neat if I could somehow manage that feat.

I hadn’t thought about college, I had decent grades, but I was not a fan of four more years of schooling. I had briefly thought of maybe a vocational school, maybe something in the computer field. I enjoyed using them, but knew nothing about them other than surfing the net or doing homework on them. Since I was getting a headache, no more thinking for tonight.

I got ready for bed an hour later, taking my shower tonight so that I would not hold them up in the morning. I was always a sleepy head in the morning, usually Mom or one of my sisters having to push me out of bed. I set the alarm for an hour earlier, determined to be on time for a change. With a goal of mine in sight I dozed off quickly the alarm in the morning waking me from my dream. In my dream it was red, had a supercharger on the hood and a horse on the rear fender, my perfect ideal car. I need to stay focused, a healthy Mustang needs lots of dollars to acquire and feed, much less insure.

I ended up riding with Beth, Mom had already slipped out to the salon before I got out of bed. I was all smiles as I rode with her, her warning me one more time about being cautious about what I agreed to. When we got to the salon I literally bounced inside, anxious to see where I will be working. As I came in I noticed how big the salon was now, I had heard about it, but in my mind it was this small beauty shop type of place with three of four technicians working there. Imagine my surprise when I walk in and there are almost a hundred techs and customers in the salon. And this at eight o’clock on Saturday morning.

I stopped short taking in the sights around me, then scanned back to that last image I saw. An obvious male getting his nails done, as I turned around some more, he wasn’t the only one. Now I was perplexed, when did all of this start? At school we had some male goths with black nail polish but these customers were getting clear polish or shades of pink, at least, the ones that I could see the nail color. Beth came up behind me and pushed me to the office at the back of the salon. Mom was finishing one of her customers, telling me she would be with me in a few minutes.

Whoa, this is way more than I expected. I just sat there lost in thought until Mom came and closed the office door behind me so we would have some privacy. I was quiet as she did some things on her desk, still trying to process what I saw. I had never been to the salon before today, the size the principal mind blower. This was big business, I now have a better appreciation for Mom and her business sense.

“Well Terry here is the deal, your one and only chance to work here. I need a receptionist, someone to answer phone calls, make appointments and ring up the customer when they are finished. You can work forty hours a week, with a starting pay of 8.50 an hour. This is the exact same job your sisters had when they worked here. When not busy you have to restock the supplies for the techs, keeping them full and complete. It will be necessary that you have a manicure, anybody working in the salon has to have well-manicured nails. It is our best kind of advertisement. You will be treated exactly as your sisters, I wouldn’t want to have any sibling rivalry because one got some special treatment. I mean exactly like your sisters.”

I need your decision, Beth will give you your manicure if you agree and Shirley the other receptionist will show you what she does during the day. You will be on your own tomorrow, so you need to pay attention to what she says. I told her yes, and she pushed a stack of papers for me to sign for my deductions and employee files. I was to go over each page and sign after I had carefully read and understand what each page implied.

Once finished I was to go to Beth’s station and she would do my nails. I figured some shaping and clear polish and that would be it. I was so thrilled, money at last, a possible car now in my future.

I finished the paperwork and left the stack on Mom’s desk. I made my way to Beth’s station and sat down in the chair in front of her table. My hands are placed in two bowls of bluish water while she gave my arms a massage with a cream. While they were soaking she removed my shoes and socks and placed my feet in another container of bluish water. I looked at her funny, but didn’t say anything.

She took my hands cleaning around the edge of the nail. According to her she was removing my cuticle. The nails did look better after she had done that. Let’s face it I had never taken care of my nails. Usually they broke before I had to cut them, saving me the trouble and time to do so. My feet were removed from the water and placed one at a time on a stool beside her table. The same thing was done to my toenails, quickly and confidently. Then the other foot and I was ready for the polish. At least that is what I thought I was ready for. She picked some plastic pieces out of a box on her table, matching them up to each finger. Then it dawned on me what she was going to do.

I tried to withdraw my hand but she firmly held on to it. My mouth opened and closed several times, each time nothing came out of it. She leaned over a little closer, speaking in a lower voice. “Remember me telling you to be sure of what you are agreeing to, all employees of the salon have to wear colored polish on their nails. You have to have extensions applied and at least two nails on each hand have to have nail art. All toenails are to be visible and painted in a colored polish. One of the papers you signed stated that fact in bold print. Now sit still and let me finish. You can do the job just like I told you, it just has to be done with long beautiful nails.”

I closed my eyes trying to make all of this go away somehow. I felt Beth working adding the extensions to my nails, the smell of some type of adhesive and then a light breeze of air from a box where my hand had been placed. It cast a purple glow over my hand, when the hand was removed the longer nails looked just like my own. Oh shit what have I done? I opened and closed my eyes several more times hoping this was all a bad dream. No such luck, each time the eye opened the long elegant nail was there sticking out past the tip of my finger by half an inch.

I jumped when Mom came by, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Your hands look very feminine, they will be good advertisement for the shop. Beth let’s use a deep burgundy color on them, with delicate white butterflies on the tips.” I groaned and Mom walked off her job complete in teaching her son a lesson. I knew I saw a smile as she walked away probably giggling too but she was too far away for me to hear.

Beth just smiled, you will live through it, but maybe you might investigate a little more next time before you jump into the pond. I sat there mute as I watched her convert my fingers into works of art. Three coats of polish, after a base coat, then a clear topcoat. While all of that was drying she worked on my toenails, shaping them and adding the same coats of polish. I was furnished a pair of thongs, commonly referred to as flip-flops to wear. My shoes and socks placed into a bag to take home. There was no mistaking my feminine hands and feet, the slacks and the polo shirt looked funny but my hair in a ponytail did nothing but help the feminine look.

Once the butterflies were added, there was no doubt. Terry the youngest sister will be following in her sisters footsteps at the salon. I thought of giving up, but I had pleaded, begged for the chance, if I did change my mind I knew any future requests would have no chance of success. I went up to the front, my eyes glued to my footwear, the dark burgundy color on my toenails making my feet look smaller and delicate.

As I approached the front desk a young female was looking my way. She had on the smock that the girls wore in the salon. I introduced myself, not knowing what to say about my nails. I got a hug and she pulled up one of my hands to look at the nails. “Those are gorgeous, I wished mine looked that good. Your fingers are so dainty and delicate, I am so jealous.” I meanwhile was blushing a deep red. She showed me where everything was, how to answer the phone and about the appointment book. I was booking an appointment with someone that had called in, at least trying to. If I could just get my fingers to do what they normally did but the nails were determined to make it very difficult. Shirley had returned to see if I did it right, laying a stack of clothing on the shelf to the side of the desk.

She stayed with me as I learned the procedures and steps necessary to do my new job. When it calmed down a little she opened the bag and removed my own smock. The technicians had pink smocks with white trim, Shirley and I had white smocks with pink trim. Looking at the difference between the two, ours were more frilly and cute, in Shirley’s own words. By the end of the day I could, at least, write legibly with my new nails. The last two hours I was left up front while Shirley stocked up the manicure tables. I did get a brief lesson in re-stocking, but the front end procedures were more important to learn today.

I was pooped when I got in Beth’s car for the ride home. I needed to go to the bathroom, but the one at the salon was labeled female, I really didn’t want to get caught in there. When we got home I made a mad dash for my bathroom, Beth giggling up a storm. Mom was right behind us, she had swung by and picked up some Chinese food for tonight. I came back downstairs and helped set the table. Both of them were staring at me. Mom made her way over and felt my forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“Can’t I help some if I want to? You always get after me to help, so I try and you give me grief.”

Beth broke out in laughter. “It is way past a fever, we should take her to the emergency room instead.”

I, of course, was blushing all colors of the rainbow from the remarks. Today was not too bad, after a couple of hours the novelty of the nails wore off some, they still made my life difficult trying to write or pick something up, but I had gotten used to seeing them when I looked at my hands or feet. I couldn’t understand why I was accepting them so easily, a masculine male now with long beautiful nails and no outrage or hissy fit, no real objections to the trick that was played on me. Mom did get me good, I will probably never live this one down.

I did a lot of thinking that night, I did get a job for the summer, now a car would be possible later in the year. I however shot myself in the foot, any friends I once had most likely to be abandoned, how does a male explain to his male friend why he has long beautiful nails and works in a nail salon. Since I would not see most of my male friends at the salon, that was one advantage, but then if some of my female school friends came into the salon what could I say.

I am just working here to make some money, the long nails and the cute smock mean nothing to me. I doubt I would be believed much, but I am sure that my fame would spread quickly to everyone that I once knew. Right before I went to sleep Beth showed up with the bag of clothes from the salon. The other bag contained my shoes and socks from today. She told me to hang the clothes in my closet so the wrinkles would fall out. I got up to do that laying the other smock on my chair for tomorrow.

The next item in the pile was a short dress, I hung it up, not thinking much about it. Then four more hung the same way. The lights began to come on and I looked at Beth with a look of sheer terror on my face. With a straight face she informed me of the uniform requirements of the salon. “Saturday and Sunday are smock days, since we are so busy. Monday thru Friday are dresses, and heels that expose the toes inside the stockings. Everybody wears the same outfit regardless. You and I will shop for heels tomorrow morning as we go in to work, Mom is getting you panties and stockings along with a garter belt to hold up the stockings. I hurriedly dug through the paperwork for the day, looking where it stats that. Sure enough on the same page as the extensions, and the polish part in bold print is the dress code. Stupid me had even initialed the clause before signing at the bottom.

I began sobbing, long deep sobs of frustration, stupidity, terror, and you name it I was crying about it. Beth took me in her arms hugging me tightly to her. She didn’t say much but let me get it all of my system. It was several minutes later when I finally stopped with the tears. I looked up at her, hoping for her to provide a way out of this mess I had made for myself, but the smile she returned told me it wasn’t going to happen.

I mumbled something to her, but she wasn’t that good at understanding brother mumble jumble. She made me look in her eyes, and told me to repeat, but this time speak clearly. “Beth what am I going to do, I can’t do this what will everyone say?

“You will do exactly what Nancy and I did. Get up in the morning, put on the required uniform and go to work. You will still be you underneath, but in a nail salon appearance is everything. Although a lot of males have their nails done, our customers prefer that they are waited on by a technician that appears female. Image is everything in a nail salon. You are not going to be comfortable having your nails done if the one doing it has no polish, broken nails or dirty nails. It is just not done.”

“Yes, Mom did let you walk right into this, something she should have done years earlier. Up to now you have wasted your life, no plans for the future and even less money to do anything with. You have a job, one that hundreds of young females would kill to have. So think about it, make something of your life starting now, forget the clothes and the nails and start doing something about your future. Who knows you may like this and enter into the business with Mom after a while. Just don’t overreact for once, one day at a time and let things happen. The dress doesn’t happen till Monday, so don’t worry about it till then.”

I got a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and she was gone I took a look at the dress again and then slipped into the bed with just my boxers on. I dreamed about the dress all night. No one to blame for my predicament but me. I woke early again, although the salon did not open till eleven on Sunday. I was quickly dressed in a white pair of pants with a dress shirt underneath the smock. It didn’t help with the gender thing, but also not as bad looking as yesterday’s outfit. I rode in with Beth again, she smiled often on the trip, knowing I was sweating bullets again. Today I was on my own, Stephanie was off and I had to handle the receptionist duties all day by myself.

Mom had gotten me the money for the register from the safe so I set that up and made sure I had what I needed at the front desk. At eleven the first customers came in, the techs came to get their customers and took them back to their stations. I received lots of calls in the next thirty minutes people looking for last minute appointments for today. We were booked up except for two late afternoon time slots, of which I filled before noon. It seemed to go better today, nobody stared at me, I was addressed as Ms. often and was kept quite busy all day. At four o’clock it slowed enough for me to do some stocking, I managed to get half of the stations ready for tomorrow before quitting time. Mom showed me how to run the end of day report and made me count my cash drawer.

When I eventually entered Beth’s car I was mentally drained. The first thing I did was to look at my nails to see if I had chipped any polish. When I looked at Beth to see why she had not backed out of the parking lot she broke out giggling. You are such a girl, a hard day at work and you just have to check your nails before we go home. That is Terri right, an eighteen year old female coming to terms with her gender. I stayed quiet as she backed out and headed home.

A stop first to get me my heels. Surely a sentence worse than death. At the shoe store we browsed the aisles looking for shoes that had an open toe, Beth suggested a three inch heel since it would help make my legs look better. With a couple of sizes to check to see what would fit the best I sat down and put the footie that Beth gave me on. At the salon I had worn the thongs again during the day. Even though the footie was short, it felt so good as it hugged my foot and ankle. I slipped my foot into the heel, a size nine seemed to be a good fit. I got the matching shoe on and tried to walk in them. Immediately I had to reduce my stride, then Beth suggested that I put one foot directly in front of the other. It helped but I could feel my butt swaying a little as I walked.

I didn’t have much problem with the heels, that size seemed comfortable, the angle of my foot and the tightening of my calves made my leg look good. I had rolled up my pant leg some to see if I was going to have any trouble walking in the shoes. We picked three pair, Beth suggested that because I still had to break in the shoes. If I wore them until they started to hurt and then switched to another pair, I could probably make it through the day. All three pair would go with the color of my dress. The color of my dress was totally opposite from the color of the smock. A pink dress with white lacy trim, the more I thought about it, the more I worried. I doubt there could be anything more feminine than that combination.

I wonder if Mom had went to all of this planning just so she could trick her son into this girly feminine world. I wouldn’t put it past her. We did make it home, another mad dash to the bathroom, dropping the heels on my bed as I flew by. As I returned from releasing a flood in the toilet I noticed the items that Mom had apparently laid there for my use tomorrow. Packages of panties, several bras, two garter belts and many packages of hose. All of the hose in a suntan color. I stood there and shuddered, I will be wearing them tomorrow and to work. What have I done to myself, no don’t answer that. I am sure in future history books my name and idiot will be underlined. I may even make the hall of fame, I know for sure I will be nominated for the honor.

I returned to the kitchen and set the table and made some iced tea. I got the looks again but no comments today. Mom had made some potato salad last night that along with some hot dogs broiled in the oven was the bill of fare for tonight. Once the tea was done I got three large glasses of ice and the necessary accouterments for the hot dogs. Beth brought the potato salad and the buns, Mom bringing the sizzling hot dogs to the table. Dinner was quiet, the food was good, with Mom’s potato salad always exceptional. Nothing but the sound of forks on plates and the jingling of ice cubes in the glass could be heard.

When we finished Beth cleared the table Mom holding my hand wanting to talk to me. “Are you going to be okay with the dress tomorrow?”

I had been doing a lot of thinking during the day. I did get myself into this mess, but it was not as bad as I first thought. If any of my friends found out I would be humiliated, but I doubt if it would be the end of the world. I smiled at her and told her I will be fine, although I could use some help with my hair and makeup if she could be so kind. Beth was across the table from me, a huge smile appearing on her face. Mom just hugged me and started to cry.

“After all the planning you went through to get me into dresses and now you are upset and crying, come on Mom get real.” I was then squashed in a group hug, there for a minute I felt my insides were going to be squeezed out of me. It did calm down some, I asked Beth if she could help me into my clothes for tomorrow, a trial run to see if I am doing it right. I did tell Mom once I was dressed I would let her see her youngest daughter. Another damn hug, I will be lucky if I have any ribs left after this.

The trial run went okay, the only problem is the clothes, silky and form fitting, I was almost exploding several times. I did make my way downstairs to show Mom her newest daughter. This time she nearly cracked a rib, the hug was so intense. As she eased up a little I leaned on her shoulder, enjoying the intimate embrace. Beth behind Mom gave me a wink, knowing that I was enjoying the loving from Mother. I stayed in the clothes until bedtime, trying to get to the point that rubbing my hands over the fabric of the dress didn’t send me over the edge. I practiced in the heels, on my feet all day tomorrow bound to make my feet regret it with a vengeance. It did get easier maneuvering in the heels, by bedtime I was doing pretty good.

I slipped out of my dress and assorted underwear, even taking them off sent shivers through my body. I took my shower again that night, a lot more to do in the morning than usual. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was sound asleep. I had set my alarm, so by the time Beth came to check on me I was dressed in my underwear. I got a good morning hug from her, then she helped put my hair in a ponytail and we went down to breakfast. Orange juice and a small pastry was all.

As I was being led out of the door, I managed to ask about makeup and my hair. Beth smiled. Mom arranged for you to get your hair done and also some makeup lessons. I immediately put on the brakes, but in the heels I was still being dragged out of the door. On the way to my appointment I asked Beth if all these new additions to my girliness are reversible.

I think we both know the answer to that, but think about it for a while then come to your own conclusion. I was dropped off at a salon, bearing the same name as the nail salon. Beth suggested that I venture forth, they are expecting you. When you are finished they will call our salon and someone will come and pick you up. Remember one day at a time, what you have not experienced maybe something you will like. I made my way to the door and then entered. I barely got out my name and was escorted to a treatment room in the back.

My technicians name is Jennifer, a bubbly super enthusiastic individual that had me naked within minutes. I was helped up onto a table and a cream was being rubbed all over my front side before I could respond to her. She was complimenting me on my nails as she waited for the cream to work. I was blushing, not used to being naked around anyone, much less this gorgeous female. Quickly she asked if I wanted any other services today. Well being naïve I asked what all they offered.

The list she pulled out was extreme. “You are scheduled for basic makeup lessons, hair washed and conditioned and set in a feminine style. Of course, the hair removal that we are doing now. You might consider breast forms, a vagina, and maybe pierced earrings for today. Then on your follow up appointments we can get into some of the other treatments we offer.”

At that moment part of my mind snapped, maybe I will try that, nothing ventured nothing gained. “Okay sign me up for those three things, will I be able to get back to work my noon. That is when I need to replace the receptionist for lunch.”

“Yep no problem, I can get one of the other techs to help out so that you can be on time.” She went off to arrange my new additions, I did have second thoughts, but they quickly disappeared. Once my backside was bare from any hair, I was turned back over and a tech worked in between my legs as Jennifer glued on my breast forms. From my vantage point they looked huge, but looking at my lack of any masculine bulge pretty much stopped any more thoughts about my breasts.

The walk from the table to her styling chair felt funny, bouncing breasts and nothing between my legs so different. A cape over my naked body, then the chair leaned back and my hair washed and conditioned. By the time she was finished I was almost in lala land. The chair put back in an upright position as she ran a comb through it to get out any tangles. Another tech approached and four pops later I was sporting earrings, two in each ear.

I actually smiled a little, they looked cute on me, boy what a change a day or two can make. Jennifer worked fast on cutting my hair, her comment that mainly she was taking off any split ends. After a few days in the new style she could alter it to whatever I might desire. All of this just taken in by me as if it is an everyday part of conversation. The hair was wound on curlers, then I spent thirty minutes under a dryer. Not sure why I was doing this, until a couple of days ago I was a male, at least, I thought I was.

She removed the curlers, brushed out my hair and a younger version of Beth was staring at me in the mirror. She instructed me in basic makeup application, had me do my face once and promised more help later on my maintenance appointments. My clothes reappeared, and as I dressed I realized I liked the new me, The bra I had on earlier was now full, maybe peaking over the front of the cups some now. The panties fit much snugger now, nothing to stretch out the crotch anymore. That should have bothered me more, but it didn’t. As I slipped the dress over my head, the image was now complete, Terri the youngest sister was now present, and quite attractive in my opinion. I called the nail salon and told them I was ready, I was told someone was already on their way to pick me up.

I walked up to reception, sitting there waiting for my ride. Two ladies complimented me on my nails, one suggesting that her son was available, if I needed a date. I blushed even deeper and that is how Beth found me when she entered the salon. She appraised my looks, raised an eyebrow or two and I was dragged to her car. Nothing was said on the trip back, I was not sure what I felt, much less what to say to her. She parked in her spot, wanting me to go right to reception and take over. Let’s see how long it will take for Mother to realize that her son is now officially gone.

As she waited to hold my hand as we entered the salon I got a you did good Sis from her. A compliment I was proud of, even if I hadn’t realized why I did the things I did today. Of course, the salon was extra busy as soon as I walked through the door, a line at reception to be waited on and the phone ringing off the hook. I pitched in, answering the phone and accepting payment from several of the customers. Shirley finally able to slip off to lunch, thirty minutes late. As soon as she left the salon I was inundated again, but managed to get through this barrage by myself.

Mom approached with a customer, took one look at me, and then smiled. Nothing more she had a customer waiting for her at her station, so she couldn’t take time to hug her daughter. A couple of hours later that was not the case, I was restocking the stations and I was attacked, an unprovoked attack on my person. I was giggling as Mom was exploring my new curves, grabbing and pinching. I tried to squeal some, but a male needs lots of practice to pull off that effectively. Twenty minutes till closing things calmed down some. I had everything restocked, Shirley was doing the drawer tonight so I was looking for something to do.

I took the dust mop and was sweeping the salon when Beth grabbed me as I passed by. I was pulled down on her lap, and tightly held. Her next comment got me blushing, did you cut it off, or just tucked away. Instant red all over, my reaction confusing her some. I leaned on her shoulder, whispering in a little girl voice, just tucked away. She smiled, I knew if you let some of your inhibitions loose the female in you would show itself. So, is that Terri with an I now?

The job was enjoyable, even the second day I was eager to get dressed and get to the salon. It was noticed by both Mom and Beth, but not commented on. Today I was the only receptionist, Shirley had the day off. I counted in my drawer, then made sure the stylist’s supplies were all full up. I grabbed a broom and swept the salon, cleaned all the mirrors, replaced a couple of burn out bulbs around the mirrors and even cleaned the glass in the front door. Mom was standing back watching, shaking her head and smiling.

Then we got inundated with customers. Several walk-ins looking to get their nails done, regular customers with appointments and several vendors looking to sell some merchandise. Mom had me get the information from the vendors and she would call them if interested. By that time some of the ladies were finished and waiting to pay for the services. I often received compliments on my looks or nails, a lot noting the similar looks between Beth, Mom and I. For once, I was proud to look good, to be considered beautiful like Beth and Mom.

It did calm down later in the afternoon, Beth dragging me to her chair and changing my nail color. This time she went with a deep salmon, just as noticeable as the color I was wearing now. A couple pieces of nail art were added, and two jewels to spice up the manicure. Back to reception a new batch of customers now finished with their appointment. One noticed my jewels asking if she could get two for her nails. Her manicurist came up found out what she wanted and applied them to her little pinkies. Once dried she tried to pay for them, but we had a rule that add-ons after the manicure are done, are free. We always made up for it on the next appointment with the customer wanting additional services or in this case more jewels added to their nails.

After we closed I counted down the drawer, amazed at how much business the salon was able to generate. I made out the deposit, myself and another would take it to the bank on the way home. Life was sure different, better in most ways. I had pleaded for the job because I wanted to be able to get my dream car eventually, now content to just work and enjoy my new life. For once I seemed to fit in, where before I stood out like a square peg amid a bunch of round holes. I found the work interesting, learning as much as I can from the technicians. Beth and Mom both taking a little time each day to teach me some part of the business. As of the moment I planned to stay working at the salon, much more enticing than further schooling.

I guess the real turnabout was when I asked Beth if she would go shopping with me for dresses and lingerie. The squeal she cut loose loud enough to ruin some ones hearing. I had been saving my money, the car not that important anymore, but looking nice when I go out had taken priority.

One of the new technicians and I had spent a couple of evenings out, just a movie and a pizza. We got along real good, wanting to know all about each other, but no romance or hanky panky at the moment. The extent of our interaction was some kissing, she is very good, but I am learning her technique. I did divulge my current true gender status, her only comment, so.

It has been several months now since I started at the salon, Terri is here to stay. Being the female Terri is almost ingrained in me now, makeup, dressing in lingerie, working in the salon, so automatic, I don’t even think about it anymore. I seem to fit in now with my sisters and Mom, like maybe it should have always been this way. I am loved and love back in return. My relationship with Jenny is slowly developing, we seem to mesh easily in our desires and attitude.

I have started studying the textbooks to get my own license, Beth teaching me the hands on part some every day. I have gotten confident enough to do Beth’s nails now, something I didn’t ever think I would be able to handle. For my birthday I was given a fifteen percent interest in the salon, once I get my license it will increase to twenty percent. Both Beth and I have been told that when she retires the salon is ours.

Jenny and I are getting serious, we have even checked into renting an apartment together. She loves the Terri I portray, the more feminine I become the happier she is. We go shopping together, out for a nice meal once a week and lots of time spent cuddling each other. We plan to keep junior around, maybe some children later, someone to pass the salon too later in life. Beth found someone she couldn’t live without and I got to be her Maid Of Honor. It was so fun, both Jenny and I part of her wedding party. Jenny has assured me when we marry I will be the one in the white wedding dress, although she has agreed to wear a dress for the ceremony. Besides you have the prettier nails, a necessity for a beautiful bride.

My breasts are now my own, seven hours of them being sucked from my body. Jenny needed something to play with, my official reason for agreeing to their addition. Confidentially I like them being played with, I would have gotten them sooner if I had known how much pleasure they can deliver.

I never did get the Mustang, clothes, makeup and earrings much too important to me now. I have been able to put some money aside, more in the weeks that the stores do not run ads of items that I am interested in. When it comes time for Jenny and I to look for a house I should be able to handle it with ease.

Quite a change from that whiny male I used to be. I remember back when I pestered Mom to let me work at the salon. At the time I didn’t realize, that soon, I would be Nailed In Burgundy Polish and loving it. Thank you Mom for bringing your errant son into the fold. A fulfilling life with some future, way better than my previous existence and so much fun.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca