Monica; One Of The Girls

Monica; One Of The Girls

My turn to host the girls, it was going to be this Friday night, ten days since the last outing. We were associates from work, some of us had been with the company for years, the last two to join the group only with the company for six months. We all worked in the customer support department, our jobs to help our customers with their orders, shipping, or to help straighten out mistakes made by our shipping department. It wasn’t a hard job, but sometimes it could be exasperating. The friendships started as we went to a bar to have a few drinks together once a week or so.

The bar scene was not something any of us really enjoyed so we started going to one of our apartments or homes to continue the meetings. Then each hostess or host would fix some light snacks, and some exotic coffees or teas for us to enjoy at our get-together. The first meetings were spent griping about our jobs, our company’s lack of appreciation for us or some current boyfriend or girlfriend actions during the last date. That over time morphed to some games, finally ending up with what we past the time with now at our get togethers.

I should explain about the group first. Wendy was our supervisor, about thirty, a blonde and quite shapely. She was the most outgoing of the group, her inhibitions were non-existent. She was single, really not interested in dating much, but did attend any company functions to check out what was being offered.

Beverly was her assistant, a red head and probably the most intelligent of the group. Her temper matched her hair color, although she was able to keep it tame enough to keep from getting in trouble with it. Bev had been married, found out her husband of three weeks was having sex with someone else and came close to making a woman of him literally.

Suzie was one of the staff, along with the rest of us, eight to six four days a week. We rotated our days off so there was always five of us working. She also was single, but was dating every chance she could get to hopefully find Mr. Right. She even tried dating a female once, her success with the males was pretty dismal and she was feeling down and lost. The next day she declared herself bi-sexual, and since then either sex is alright, just hadn’t found the right one yet. We called her our chameleon, since her hair color changed weekly trying to find something to help lure that elusive partner.

Patricia was our fashionista, dressed to the nines every day she worked. Her family had money so she spent it on clothes, lingerie, and makeup. She was in her mid-twenties, never admitting to an actual age. She was quieter than the rest, but often spoke up when pushed by an unruly customer. It had gotten her into trouble in the past so she always set between us. If her voice started to raise we would lean over and rub her leg to get her to calm down. If necessary one of us would take her customer to soothe things out. Her hair was most often brunette, but always with highlights.

Then we have Janice, our mystery girl. She was friendly, almost too friendly. Never shared anything about her past, but was one of the most efficient at her job. She was constantly getting ratings near 100 on her reviews, we joked that she could sweet talk the clothes off anybody before they realized what was happening. She was definitely the tallest, nearly six feet in her heels. Her actual height was never disclosed, we often kidded her about it but she always side stepped any direct answers to our questions. Another brunette, her hair almost to her waist, always shiny and loose.

Lastly we have me, the only male of the group. I was the token male to assure no allegations of discrimination could be leveled against the company. I was actually told that when I was hired, I needed the job badly so it was not an issue with me. It did take them a couple of weeks before I was accepted into the group, the stilted conversations at first made the girls resent me, but soon they resumed their normal dialogue. When I made a remark about what one of them said one day it was met with complete silence.

Janice saved the day for me and the others. “He speaks, and it was a relevant thought, what are we going to do now.” There was quite a bit of giggling, but from that moment on I was included as if I was one of the girls. Several times the conversations were a little more than I could handle comfortably. The girls just grinning but keeping it up. About four weeks later I was invited to my first female gathering. It went well, I made a few appropriate comments and was accepted as a full member of the click.

Over the months I have noticed my focus has changed, I used to follow sports, now when I look at a newspaper or magazine I look for any fashion articles or celebrity happenings. When we are walking to our favorite spot for lunch I look at the store windows just like the girls.

I did attempt to date a couple of females in the company, but apparently my actions that night left them without any desire for a second date. My so called friends and advisors suggested that I try a male, my charms would have him eating out of my hands quickly. I do hope they were kidding me, but decided I was not going to test that theory in the near future.

Now that you have a little history, back to the meeting at my house tonight. It is my parents’ house, given to me when they upped and moved to the other side of the country. They said it was because they wanted a warmer climate, without the extreme heat of the desert southwest. I never did hear if Northern Georgia was any better. My mom and I still talked, but they were always busy doing something with friends, so for the last three years we saw nothing of each other.

I had went all out in preparation of tonight’s snacks, made little snack pizzas, warmed some breadsticks, had three tomato based sauces to dip them in and even made some three bean salad. I had gotten some prepared drinks from a beverage company that we all used for the exotic coffees and teas we have learned to like. I had ten different selections to choose from for tonight. The group arrived all together, exchanged hugs and kisses and we dove in while the pizza and bread sticks were warm. I received numerous compliments, them kidding about always having the meetings at my house since the service and menu were the best of the group.

We talked and giggled often for the next hour, we had two new employees to talk about at work, both of them full of themselves and widely believed to be gone before the next week was out. Both were female, spoiled rotten and too young to have learned how to survive on their own.

Finally time for the games, it was Wendy’s time to choose a game, so she went to her purse and withdrew several pads and pens. We were to each jot down five fantasies of ours, trying to keep anyone from guessing who the fantasy was for. Real fantasies and erotic in nature, not casual dreams or desires. If we fooled everybody, we received points, if we were guessed then we had to act out the fantasy. I swallowed hard, but the girls were already writing feverishly.

I couldn’t think of anything, my fantasies were to marry, have children, and get promoted at work, nothing even remotely erotic or unusual. A couple of the girls were already finished, looking at me wondering why I wasn’t writing something down. I finally wrote a couple of things down, things that I had read on a fiction site I stumbled on a few days ago. I figured they were so left field that no one would be able to figure who wrote them. I made sure to slant the wording so that it could not be presumed to be a male wanting those things, since of the six people I was the only male.

Then Wendy surprised me by telling us to exchange one fantasy with each of the other players, so they were now all mixed up. We had folded them so no writing could be seen, then exchanged one with each of my counterparts. A bowl was produced and we dumped them all in and stirred them up. To keep from one of us recognizing the hand writing a fellow player would draw a slip of paper and read it for the player whose turn it was.

Wendy drew first for Beverly, reading it and then laying it face down on the table. It was one of mine, I tried to show no emotion, but that is real hard when dealing with this type of situation. Beverly hemmed and hawed, looking at each of us and smiling at us, trying to cause a reaction. She made some guesses of who that person might be, Janice wouldn’t do this, but I could see Patricia maybe wanting something like this. It was fun there was a lot of gigging and laughing, but then she pushed the paper in front of me.

Wendy then told us that the papers would remain in front of the person selected until the end of the game. Then all would be confessed and the accurately guessed fantasies would be indulged. I wish I had known that earlier before I had come up with my supposed fantasies. Too late now, maybe I would be spared any more accurate guesses.

To get through the thirty fantasy slips took some time, it was almost the end of the game before my other fantasies came up. I spent all of the time trying to figure out how to claim the fantasies were not mine. Since the color of the ink looked the same and I had purposefully printed my fantasies I thought I might be able to at least deflect one or two accurate guesses. I wasn’t paying attention as the last four slips were read and my last fantasy was pushed in front of me. The girls were giggling uncontrollably now, hoping they had guessed right.

Wendy went through each pile, separating them out into two piles. She used our pens to do the separating making a slash of the pen over the writing to verify which ones were ours and not someone else’s. I let out an audible sigh, all of the girls looking my way and smiling. I was doomed by my own stupidity, and going to have to live up to my outlandish fake fantasies.

As each girl was checked they immediately did what the fantasy required, taking off a portion of their clothing, undressing completely or in one case allowing her hands to be tied behind her back. I would have been turned on to the nth degree except I knew what was coming for me. Of course, Wendy saved me for last, even doing her own pile before she checked mine. I would have been in seventh heaven as she completely removed her clothes, standing near me as she checked my pile. You know what happened as soon as you started reading this tale, all but one of my absurd fantasies now laying on the table in front of me.

All of the girls got up, grabbed a fantasy and started rounding up the necessary things to make it happen. That is all but Janice, she was the one to have her hands tied behind her back, but that didn’t stop her from making suggestions or pointing out where something needed for my fantasy could be found. I just sat there waiting for the moment when my whole world would come apart. How could I have been so dumb, don’t answer that.

I was stripped naked and then dressed in some of their lingerie and clothes currently not in use. The sensations of the silky clothes on my body were hard to resist, my male apparatus showing signs of inflating. The girls all watched in awe. “Well we now know that these are his actual fantasies, the truth detector has spoken.” I had some makeup applied, now dressed in a bra, panties, slip, dress, stockings and high heels. Unfortunately we were relatively the same size, a couple of their things a little tight on me. The makeup consisted of mascara, way too much in my opinion and several coats of lipstick.

It was surreal, one gal totally naked, one with her titties exposed and one with nothing on her lower torso, then you have Janice with her hands tied behind her back, one not missing any clothes but on her hands and knees waiting to lick the first volunteer to a climax. Then you have me dressed in their clothes, trying to shrink away from all of it.

Then they started talking about my last fantasy that was read aloud to the group. Simply stated it was to be the boss lady for the day, to be able to supervise employees and be the one in charge. When I wrote it, I was sure that it would point to one of the other females, so I had no qualms in submitting it. Now it looked like I was about to have an even worse day than this, as they planned how to satisfy my fondest desire on Monday.

I had calmed down some, a little rational thought appearing in my mind from time to time. What about the other fantasies of the girls, I only saw some shedding of some clothes, not the two or three things they had to do to satisfy the fantasies they had to perform. I got some red faces, some stuttering, and some downcast eyes. I looked over their stack of slips, picking out a few that I thought would be appropriate for a Monday work day. I told them I would go to work as a female boss Monday if they would do these things at the same time.

I stood there hands on my hips, in one of their dresses, my stuffed breasts making my chest protrude lewdly. I could barely walk in the heels, switching from foot to foot to keep my toes from being squashed even more in the shoes. They reluctantly agreed, anxious to see me in female attire for a whole day. I giggled to myself, thinking of some of the things they would suffer through that day, misery loves company my motto at least for Monday.

We did all agree that this particular game would never be played again, the consequences too much to live with. We did complement Wendy for thinking out of the box, but told her also that any further thinking on her part would be severally punished. We are not kidding.

The girls wanted some assurances that I would not change my mind, so they took my luggage and packed away all of my male clothes from the closet and dresser except for a couple of things they would wear home. That was done so that I would have clothes for tomorrow and Monday, each outfit laid out on my love seat for me to select from. “You don’t trust me, I am hurt by your actions.” That was said as they took a bag a piece and left me standing there in my dress and heels.

After leaving I checked the bedroom to see if they had forgotten anything. No luck, the bedroom and bathroom clean as a whistle except for the makeup they had left me for Monday. There was even a bottle of nail polish there for my use. I set done hard on a chair by the window, staring outside as if an answer to my problem laid out there for my selection. It was fun for a while, we did have a lot of fun, but when I had to own up to all my supposed fantasies the fun part seemed to leak away. I set there for quite some time, finally it was time to get some sleep, two more days of this femaleness before Monday and the end of my fantasy period. I removed my clothes, but left on the panties and bra. I know not the reason for leaving the bra and panties on, maybe just having another piece of clothing helping me to feel less naked and uncomfortable.

I slipped under the covers, the mind still working on how I had screwed things up so bad. I eventually got some sleep, the next morning way too many vivid dreams making their appearance. I went to the bathroom, then changed panties and the bra to the other set waiting for me today. I smiled briefly thinking of the girls going home without their bras wearing only my rough shorts and jeans. Janice did call me later that day asking if I was dressed properly, she was the one selected to make sure I was doing as told and had not slipped out anywhere to obtain any male clothing. I invited her over, my extreme embarrassment was pretty much gone, they had already seen me naked and dressed as a woman so nothing new there today.

An hour later she knocked on the door, I went over to welcome her dragging her to the kitchen for coffee and something to eat. We talked as we sipped the coffee, and some pastries I had forgotten I had in the freezer. A few minutes in the microwave and they were suitable to be devoured. I found out from her it was nearly two hours after they left here before she was released, she did love being treated that way, just wished she could find a partner that felt the same way. As that statement left her mouth she was staring at me intensely, waiting for some indication that I might be the one. I thought I might be interested, but decided to wait a while. I had my own demons to align somehow or extricate if I couldn’t live with them.

She stayed for lunch, some sandwiches and some cottage cheese, something I had often to help curb my weight and keep my figure. That last word now having another meaning to the new me. Once lunch was handled we sat and talked. She did make some suggestions for me, my knees not together when I set, I didn’t smooth my skirt before I set. I was advised on a more feminine walk and how to hold my hands when not doing something. I brought up to Janice how I wanted to take it a little further for Monday may be getting my ears pierced, or a makeover to make my disguise a little more realistic. The way that I looked now I looked like a male in a dress, at work I wanted to blend in some, not wanting the whole office staff to make fun of me or be able to kid me.

She suggested a salon that could help, even gave me their number. She had her hair cut there, her stylist was named Sheila, she was sure that she could help me. Janice had a family gathering to go to, but promised to pick me up tomorrow morning, saving me the embarrassment of driving in heels and a dress. We hugged, it felt real good. Something had changed between her and me, but I just couldn’t put my finger on what exactly had changed. I called the number, finding out that she could take me a little later today. I drove over to the salon, swallowed several times to get the congestion and fear out of my chest, and then walked in. I expected to be laughed at, but I was treated with respect and caring.

Sheila led me to a private treatment room at the back, wanting to know how she could help me. After explaining what I was thinking she offered me different treatments that might meet my needs. It was overwhelming what they could do for me, so I asked her to just pick a few things for tomorrow, to allow me to escape the male in a dress look. She told me her thoughts: hair removal, some breast forms, a wet set on my hair and some nail polish on my fingers and toes. Then some long lasting makeup for tomorrow so that I wouldn’t have to try to do it myself. Ear piercing was included, according to her I would look so cute with pierced earrings. I agreed and over the next few hours I was transformed into a convincing female. If you looked real close you could still see the male underneath, but a quick glance showed only a cute female.

As she was taking out my curlers, my masses of springy curls bounced around on my head. She took time to spray my face to set the makeup, then created my hairstyle. She suggested that I sleep in a chair tonight so that my hairdo escaped being squashed so much. A liberal coat of hairspray would insure the same look tomorrow, maybe a few fingers lightly run through my hair to remove any smashed curls.

As I left the salon I felt invigorated, a glance in the mirror showed only a female image, a cute one no less. On the way home I stopped at the mall, browsed a few dress shops looking for something special to wear tomorrow. Why I was embracing this, I haven’t the slightest idea. I found a pale green business suit, the jacket fairly form fitting with a slight flare at the hips. The skirt was not quite a pencil skirt, but still tight at least from my standpoint. Luckily they had it in my size. No, I did not become a fashion expert overnight, the sales associate giving me the terms and descriptions that I was using. Yes, I was scared to death, constantly looking around to see if someone had seen through me.

With my purchase in my arms. I felt good somehow, managing to do these things as a female with little distress, well minimal distress. The dress shop associate knew I was a male underneath, but still treated me with respect. The one hundred and sixty dollars I spent on the outfit probably paid her some commission, something I was sure she appreciated.

Don’t ask me why I bought the suit or even had the makeover at the salon. It was not required, but at the time seemed to be a good idea. I closed my eyes and just went with it, consequences be damned. I stopped and got some food to eat at home, some tacos and a burrito along with some tortilla chips. I seriously thought of eating in the little restaurant, but home seemed to be the better choice. I hung my clothes as soon as I got home, again something I have never done before. I then ate my treats, Mexican food, in particular, always a soft spot with me. I cleaned up after myself, something I never did, even felt my head to see if I was running a fever, something my Mother always did if I did something out of the ordinary. Nope no fever, must be insanity then.

I settled into my favorite chair thinking how I would handle tomorrow, the job not requiring a boss really, as long as the calls got handled promptly. The extent of Wendy’s management was supervising the schedule and settling any dispute that might arise with a less than cooperative customer. I drifted off to sleep, surprisingly fast, considering all that my mind was trying to figure out about my involvement, in this fantasy. I got up earlier, the sleeping in the chair did preserve my hairstyle, something I couldn’t figure why I was so concerned about. Dressing in my new outfits was fun, in and out of several of the pieces of lingerie left for me to see what looked best with my new purchase.

Janice was early, her eyebrows shot up when she saw how I was dressed. She slowly walked around me looking to see what changes had been made, then made sure I had my purse and we were off. She asked where I had bought the dress, I told her where in the mall and she giggled. You know the salon you went to has clothes in the other part of the building, but I am sure that the mall experience did you some good.

“Did you do you other fantasy for today?” I was smiling from ear to ear asking her that. She nodded yes, I told her she needed to show me when we got to work, we can’t trust you yet, not with something this important. Her face was bright red now, I am sure she had left her panties at home with that kind of reaction, but I would follow through, I think Janice will like that as much as not wearing any panties.

The rest of the trip was in silence, me thinking what the other girls are going to say, and Janice sweating her show and tell. We both walked in together, put our purses in our desks and signed on to our computers. Most of the time we got at least a few minutes before the first customer called. The computer started switching calls at Nine AM and it was still a few minutes before nine when we got there. The other girls dragged in, I looked at each of them to see if they had also complied with their last unfulfilled fantasy.

Wendy and Patricia without bras, their movement of their breasts a sure sign of no bra, Patricia’s prominent nipples meant she was wearing her pasties as per her fantasy. Suzie was the last one to arrive, the other two girls having the day off. Hers would be harder to detect without a more personal inspection. I told Janice to stand up and show me her lack of underwear. She did, the red on her face drifting pretty much all over her body. Wendy told Suzie to stand holding out her hand. Suzie reached into her purse, handing a remote to Wendy. It was clicked on and Suzie almost fell to her knees. Wendy turned it off, the vibrator was where it should be and operational.

Then all four of them faced me asking me where the dress came from, then who did the makeover and hair. They exchanged looks between them, but never said anything. The calls started and soon we all had one call and another waiting our attention. It was one of our busiest Mondays, just my luck when it was my time to be boss. We closed an hour for lunch that kept our staff requirements less, not having to keep people to spell off each of us. The company was alright to work for but like most these days always looking to save some dollars.

We went to our regular lunch place, shopping a little on the way back. As soon as we arrived back we got a call from corporate for Wendy to come to personnel. She looked at me, you are the boss today, you need to see what they want. I immediately panicked, dressed as a female and being seen other than by our close group of friends was way too much. The girls pushed me out the door and locked it behind me. I started to knock on the door, but through the glass Wendy just pointed to personnel.

Very reluctantly I made my way there, trying to figure out what to say when I got there. Ms. Kent was nice, everybody knew her and adored her. When I entered the office she smiled at me, asking me what my name was. I told her I was Morton from customer service, she had called asking for Wendy to come up here, and since Wendy and I are exchanging jobs today you got me. I was asked to sit down and explain my dress and what is happening today. She didn’t seem mad or upset so I explained everything.

She never said anything or made a comment about what we were doing, then she did something on the computer. A few minutes later she slid a document over and had me sign it, I tried to read it before I signed, but she was smiling and wanting me to hurry up. Given a copy she told me that they were going to start a rotating leadership training at the company, so what we were doing fit perfectly into the scheme of things.

Then as I rose to head back she congratulated me on becoming the token transgender person, no longer male I will be a female as far as the company is concerned. Oh tell Wendy everything worked out just as she suggested. You are a person short since you are the boss today I would suggest that you get to work. I walked back having the feeling that I had just been out manipulated by the best. Wendy had arranged the whole thing from the party to today.

When I got back we were too busy for me to corner Wendy, but her smile said it all. I heard a few scattered giggles and knew that the other girls were in on it too. It was quitting time before we got a breather, the computer closing off the phone lines at five PM sharp. We had all finished our last calls, so we were done for the day. I wanted Wendy to answer questions but she just wanted out of there. She invited everybody to her apartment for drinks and to fill in the new female employee on her job and dress code. I was reluctant to go with them but with several arms on mine I was dragged along anyway. Since Janice had picked me up this morning I had little choice anyway.

Everybody settled in at her apartment, Janice helping her get something to drink for everybody. When all were seated Wendy started the conversation. From the very start when we first met you all of us saw only a female inside. On your days off we racked our brains trying to figure how we could get what is inside outside where it belongs. Numerous suggestions were made but you conveniently ignored us, so finally the game at your place. We were amazed that you didn’t pick up the deception right away, we were more than obvious on several occasions.

But you bought into it, our goal was achieved and we had you on the right track. Then when you got the makeover and bought the dress at the mall we were sure of our conclusions. Once dressed here at work, the final pieces could be put in place. You are now transgendered, transitioning to be a female, with full company approval. The rotating supervisor trial had been in place for several months, you just never caught on to what was happening right before your eyes.

Just remember all the incentives that we willingly gave to make sure our little girl here could spread her wings. Getting to see us naked in varying degrees of undress is not going to happen often, so treasure those things that you did get to see. Now that the shoe is on the other foot we get to see you in your lingerie, you have a lot to learn and your BFF’s are ready to teach you. Since it is your day off tomorrow, an appointment to get you the necessary female equipment is in order. That has been arranged and Janice had volunteered to accompany you to make sure you get the proper size additions.

Any signs of the former male that used to work here will be dealt with quickly and severally. Now for a name, I have several listed her on these sheets of paper. Circle the one you like the most, the one with the most votes is our girl’s new name. I started to protest, but Wendy stopped that right away, if you don’t like the name by vote method we can go with Matilda. I shut up and took the piece of paper. The names I saw I was not really fond of, but Monica sounded the best of the group. Luckily that was the winner of the straw vote also. So Monica it is, now a female and one of the girls. I imagine after tomorrow I will be a card carrying member, not just an honorary member.

Janice accompanied me home, since the appointment at the salon was first thing in the morning, we would leave from my apartment. We stopped to get some takeout, neither of us wanting to cook tonight. We talked all the way home, about work and the last disastrous meeting of the girls from work. Disastrous at least for me. We ate the pizza we had picked out, both of us disregarding any diets we might have had. It was good, we even ate the crumbs that were left. She had brought a movie to watch, knowing that I had a DVD player. It was a chick film, but even I was shedding some tears at the appropriate spots.

After the movie I made some fresh tea, and a batch of biscuits. With butter and some jam we consumed those as well. We got around to talking about tomorrow, Janice wanting to know what I really thought of switching to the female gender. I thought about my answer for some time, before I told her that is what I really wanted. I feel at peace when dressed and acting as a female, something I have been without my whole life. I guess I could learn to bottle it up again, only enjoying it when at home and all the doors and windows are locked. But being with you girls and being accepted as a female means so much to me.

Any person just meeting me would instantly declare me mentally unstable, if I wasn’t just hauled away to the mental ward. Several times I have thought of my willingness to go along with everything, something so unusual for me. In the end, I do like hanging out with the girls, so maybe being one of the girls is not that far fetched. I am happier this way, although I am ashamed to admit it. So for now, Monica is one of the girls, and hopefully a friend too. I was squashed in a hug and then led into the salon, the girl me needing some proper female equipment. I can see life to be very interesting soon.

It didn’t take them long to make the necessary adjustments. My eyebrows were done away with, something they skipped on my previous visit. It did make a big difference in my appearance, as it made my eyes stand out more. My breast forms were removed, and I was hooked up to a large machine, the hoses form the machine leading to two cups adhered to my chest. As I was switched on, I watched as some of my extraneous flesh was sucked into the cups.

Janice had a ball picking out my breast size, picking up different sized cups and laying them on my chest to see how they looked. I kind of lost track as to what ones that were still there, but when they added the adhesive I saw the letter D imprinted on the size of the cup. I was not sure what that meant, but I think it meant that I had been screwed royally. Of course Janice is giggling away, but when I tried to remove the cups she just held my hand till I relaxed and gave up.

They did something to my calves of my legs as forms were placed behind the calf and strapped to my leg. My foot was pointed down severally like I was standing on my toes. I was left like that for a while, then as the machine switched to a steady pull on my soon to be breasts a felt a needle prick in each calf. It was quick and I again focused on my developing breasts. My first thought was if they are being sucked from my body how will I ever be able to reverse it. The light came on upstairs, I won’t be able to, they are mine for the duration. I closed my eyes, if I can’t see them they are not there.

My eyes sprung open again when the forms were removed from my lower legs. My foot stayed the same though still pointed down at quite an angle. I couldn’t figure out why it was done to me though. I was helped out of my present chair and moved over to a chair by the sink. The hoses attached to my breast cups coming along too. As I took the first step a pain shot up my leg, I tried again to place my foot flat and another pain erupted. I had to move to where they wanted me on my tip toes. Then my mind engaged, heels, I would now be required to wear heels everywhere, since it was obvious my leg tendons have been shortened. The girls having some fun with me, and I am not even fully converted to the female gender. I did catch Janice sitting over to the side smirking as she talked with my technician as they were sipping some coffee.

Still thinking about my need to wear heels all the time I felt the tech starting to wash and condition my hair, I had just had the wash and set the last time I was in, so apparently something new for me was in the works. Sure enough after the second conditioner was rinsed out of my hair, a foul smelling liquid was thoroughly worked through my tresses. I had a feeling that maybe a new hair color was being added, as the liquid that was worked in had a very light almost pinkish tint to it. Thirty minutes under a low heat dryer as the color was processed, then rinsed. Yep, I was now a champagne blonde, another permanent addition to my femaleness and making my face just that much more feminine.

She set the hair in curlers again, this time smaller ones than was used last time. Another stint under a dryer as my hair was dried, the tech taking a few minutes to change my nail color, now a light pink. Probably to match my new hair color. The pump had turned off on my breast development the cups now full to the brim. I was unhooked from the machine, the hoses removed from the cups and a shot of something placed through the hose attachment directly into my enlarged nipples.

Before I could ask about the shot, I received an application of a clear cream on my top and bottom lips. It started tingling right away, so my focus was disrupted as I concentrated on the tingling and apparent swelling of my lips. I gave up, now content to just sit there and wait until I was finished. Way too many things happening way too fast.

When they finished with me there was no masculine left. Monica is the real persona now and from what I had been told what I will remain for the future. I did shop in their clothing store, needing enough outfits for work. When Janice showed up to pick me up I relaxed, everything as it should be and some time to myself before I had to show the girls my changes.

Wrong, Janice headed to work instead of my apartment, still time to show the girls the new Monica. Well that was two hours ago, after showing all of the girls the changes we adjourned to a coffee shop for refreshments and more girl talk. It is official, Monica is one of the girls now. It took quite awhile to get here, but I couldn’t be happier.

We never did play that game again, the reason for it now handled. I do miss seeing the girls au natural, but since I am one now and have the same body parts it seems unnecessary. I did pair up with Janice, as we cuddle each other in bed, me in my nightie and her naked and trussed up. One of the girls now and proud of it.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Babykins; My Contribution To The Family

Babykins; My Contribution To The Family

We were a typical family among some that were not. Dad started off as a carpenter, working on building new houses. Then he specialized in bathrooms and kitchens as his experience grew. Now that he is up in his forties, he started playing around with furniture. Of course, he was in hog heaven, new specialized tools were needed to build furniture, his shop out behind our home getting a total revamp. Then his oldest daughter got married, and soon they were expecting. He built all of the baby furniture, a crib, changing table, high chair, play pens, you name it the baby had one of them.

Our parents were kind of the only normal ones among their friends, most of the major lifestyle choices more than prevalent among their group of friends. One half of one of these couples requested a crib to be built, after seeing the one that Dad had built for his soon to be grandchild. This one was to be a little different, sized to handle an adult baby. They seemed genuine in their request, after Dad found the size needed, it was no problem for him to crank one out in the new size. Well, after the friend saw the crib, took some pictures and sent them to their friends, Dad suddenly had orders for fifteen of them in varying sizes. The workmanship was outstanding on all of them, just the way Dad did things. Built from solid oak, mitered and jointed for strength, and varnished to preserve the finish of the completed product, they would last almost forever keeping their little charges confined, or is that large charges.

Within a couple of weeks more orders come in, once the customers found out he made other baby furniture too. Soon he had a backlog of orders for adult baby furniture. His prices were fair, but he always made sure he made money on the materials and labor. It wasn’t very long before one of his buddies was employed to help Dad, for ever piece completed there were two to three orders placed for more and varied furniture.

Another month passed, and then our parents called for a family meeting, my two sisters, myself and our parents were in attendance. They wanted to capitalize on this unexpected type of business. Dad, of course, to continue making the furniture. Jennifer the older sister was going to look into buying related items that could be sold to some of the same customers we had for the furniture. Betty the younger of my sisters was going to publish a catalog both online and a printed version for those that desired it. Mom was already sewing some baby things, the first few items she made sold out quickly. It seemed there was a large demand for anything adult baby related, especially as we treated them just like a regular customer, no matter that the items they bought were not main stream in any way.

Once everything was laid out, it was now time for Mom to fill me in on what my part would be. I noticed everybody got up and left the room except Mom. I swallowed hard, maybe I am in trouble here. She asked me to come and sit on the couch next to her. As I did so I saw the letters from my high school laid out carefully on the coffee table. She turned to face me, waiting for me to say the first words. The lump that was wedged in my throat was not moving at all so nothing came out of my mouth. She waited, patience has always been one of her strong points. She leaned back against the sofa, smiled a little then pointed to the letters again.

“If you remember we have had a discussion about your studies almost every week. I asked how you are doing, wanting to know if there was anything I could do to help. Since I received the first letter there has been fifteen discussions up to now. Your answer always the same, I am doing fine in all my classes with no difficulty. I have let it proceed along, waiting to see if you were going to ride it out, or eventually beg for some help. Then I started getting letters about absences from school, supposedly authorized by me. Your skill at forging my signature is quite legendary, but unfortunately for you a career as one is not going to be a viable option.”

“Then came the final letter, telling us that you flunked your final exams and will not be graduating this year. Now your father and I have had hopes for you, but you seem to be of another mind. Since you are not eighteen yet, we have decided to make some changes in your life. We have given up hope of your graduating and maybe college. That was a dream apparently only shared by your Father and I. Since you live under our roof, it will be necessary for you to do something to help the family in our new found business. With you poor grades and lack of a diploma it will have to be something we feel that you are capable of, nothing too complicated or difficult.”

“Of course, unless you want to fend for yourself, you will be subject to our rules and desires. For lying to us many times and willfully forging my signature you are grounded for life. Before you protest, you are damn lucky I settled for something that easy. Dad had in mind paddling your ass until you could never sit down again, and that was only for a starter. If you misbehave I can always let Dad have a turn at your discipline.”

“I suggest that you go to your room, and think of all the chances you have had to make things better and willfully chose to ignore every one of them. You will not be getting dinner tonight, so plan accordingly. You and I have an appointment in the morning, as we get you ready for your job to help the family. I suggest you convince yourself to accept our choices, I guarantee you will not like the results if you protest or complain. Just think two disappointed parents, now having to deal with a child that has no education and no desire to succeed at anything.”

“I do not want you out of your room for anything and I do not want to hear a word from that mouth of yours. Be ready at eight in the morning, hair combed and teeth brushed. Now go.”

I quickly made it to my room, shaking a little as I made my way there. Mom has always been the disciplinarian in the family, her no-nonsense approach and her fairness made her feared if you ever crossed her. I think I have crossed over the fence too many times. As she was telling me of my new life her voice never raised once, her cold calculating manner making itself known. I think all of her kids were scared of her, I know my sisters always yielded to her wishes with never a word spoken in protest. Once or twice my sisters had offered me some advice, it was always do what Mom says. I was aware of how Mom is, but decided to try and slip one past her. I absolutely hated school, the teachers were boring and I could see no benefit to graduate just to work some job in retail. I doubted my life would be anything else but some menial job at minimum wage.

It was a boring night, I had my stereo on but turned way down not wanting to make things worse. I did think about the things I did, maybe not the smartest things that I had ever attempted. Then forging her signature on the letters excusing my absence seemed so easy. I just never thought that I might get caught at it. Then there were my studies, it just seemed such a waste of time. I will never use this shit in real life, when is the last time Dad used calculus in his work. Mom never writes a composition, too busy taking care of her family. About one AM I drifted off to sleep, only to be rudely awakened by my alarm clock just before seven in the morning. I laid there for a few minutes then remembered what Mom and I will be doing today and instantly got out of bed. I was ready fifteen minutes later, sitting on the bed waiting for Mom to either call me or come to get me.

Mom came sweeping into the room, some things under her arm. She blindfolded me with a scarf, laid me back on the bed and told me to stay perfectly still. Her tone was definitely do not mess with me this morning, when I reached up with my arm it was slapped hard and laid by my side. My pants were lowered after the belt buckle was undone, they were now residing around my knees. My shirt was unbuttoned and I was encouraged to sit up. The shirt instantly removed from my body as soon as she could get it up my arms. I have never seen her like this, my arms got slapped three more times impressing on me to stay still. My boxers were slid down with my pants, then my shoes removed and my pants and boxers were soon to follow.

Now naked she had me raise my butt and something was slid under it. She gathered the material and pinned it at my sides. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out what she was doing, suddenly my mind figured it out. She just put me in a diaper. Something was slid over my hands and buckled at my wrists. As I tried to move my fingers they were now trapped in the item she had put on my hands. I heard the door open and my sister come in the room. Her only words were how cute. My blindfold was slipped off, I took one look at my body and groaned.

I am sure I was beet red, in a diaper and naked just like a baby. I was led out of the house and then to Mom’s car. The back door was open and I saw the car seat waiting for me, most likely. Something new that Dad put together, larger than most car seats, but designed the same way. I tried to apply the brakes but one push and I was right next to it. Sis helped me up and slipped me into the seat. She made sure I was secure, every strap tightened leaving me helpless. Now that I was secured, I looked at my hands and saw mittens. My hands were now useless, maybe I could pick something up with both hands, but nothing else was possible. A pacifier was slipped into my mouth and the strap fastened behind my head. I tried real hard to ignore it but before she backed out of the drive I was sucking on it. I was terrified of what is happening, but even more of what was going to happen to me. The pacifier was something to take my mind off of what is going to happen.

I tried to figure out where they could be taking me, but nothing made sense. When they pulled up in front of the beauty salon Mom uses, I knew this was going to be bad. I hadn’t got around to what they would do to me, I was more concerned about being seen in a diaper with a pacifier in my mouth. Sis helped me out of the car seat, set me on the ground and then took my hand as she led me inside the salon. No shoes just some thick socks over my feet. The receptionist made a big fuss over me, every comment she made brought more embarrassment to me. I so wanted to run away, but where and how. Finally I was taken back to a room at the back of the salon, where Mom informed the technician what was to be done to me. I just stared at Mom, she can’t do this to me, I am her son, it isn’t right.

My thoughts were apparently wrong, the technician presented some forms and Mom signed them after showing the tech a legal document giving her full legal authority over me. I glanced at it, it was signed by a judge and notarized, leaving me not much say anymore. I lived at home was not eighteen and subject to what my parents decided for me. Now they had somehow got even more control over me, through a court, I guess my actions have now come back to haunt me. I tried stomping my feet, just like a child trying to get attention and his way. I found myself being jerked by my arm over a chair and my diaper lowered. To my utter humiliation I was spanked hard until the tears came streaming down my face. Jerked back up to my feet, Mom’s face right in front of me. “Now be quiet, or we can continue that line of therapy until we wear your butt out.”

That did it for me, mouth closed tight and standing there as quietly as possible. My butt hurt real bad, it seemed like it was on fire. I did move my legs once or twice trying to find a spot a little more comfortable. It turned out that was not possible. A sniff or two escaped, I was trying so hard to keep quiet. I received another stare from Mom, but that was it. Her and the salon technician talked for quite a while and after things were settled, I was laid on the table, the diaper around my ankles was removed and a couple of straps applied to my body to keep me from going anywhere.

I was embarrassed, naked and being seen by Mom, Sis and the lady tech. I was pathetically flat, not even a twitch coming from my male organ. I was at the age that it worked, I have used it exclusively for several months, once I found out what was possible. Let’s just say that my hand and my male apparatus were on a first name basis. Let’s face it, now we are both scared shitless at what is happening.

Warm wax is spread over my body, a small area at a time. A cloth is pushed into the wax and then jerked off, the wax and my body hair coming with it. There was no areas missed, I was now baby smooth all over. I was always small for my age, small enough to fit in a slightly altered child seat in the car. Now with what little body hair I had gone, my closer resemblance to a baby is a real concern.

My hair is washed and conditioned, then cut into a girly style. When curlers are added, the presumption that I will be a female baby is confirmed. Mom is sure making her point, everything done to me stating loud and clear how much I have screwed things up for myself. Then makeup is added to my face, blush on my cheeks and a pink lipstick on my lips. Then we have to discuss what they did to my eyes. Long lash extensions were glued to my existing lashes, then coated with mascara. The tech doing it telling me I didn’t need to worry about reapplying it myself, all the makeup they used is semi-permanent, good for at least six months. I closed my eyes, a tear or two escaping from my orbs.

At that point I knew my fate, no matter what I did I would become an adult female baby, for the foreseeable future, apparently the only task they feel I am qualified for. Now all those classes in high school didn’t seem so worthless. Way too late to change things now, maybe I can get some time off for good behavior if I am a good baby.

My mittens were taken off, my hands secured to a table in front of me. One tech for each hand, my nails are extended and polished the same shade pink as my lipstick. Soon my toenails are done to match, a look at all of this and I again close my eyes, hoping that when I reopen them all of this will be just a dream. Of course, there is no such luck a cute adult female baby, although a quite a bit larger than a normal baby is the only image in my reflection. Okay a lot larger than a regular baby, but cute though so I am told. Mom shows back up, packages in each of her arms, I am sure more humiliation for her new baby daughter.

A new diaper is put on me, by now I really needed to pee, but I had already figured out that I would have to use my diaper. A pair of plastic panties is slid over them, then a girly dress is added to finish the look. She checked over what they had done, then asked if they could handle one more treatment. She conferred with the tech doing most of the work, a smile coming to the techs face. She left the room and came back with two forms that she applied to my lower legs. The straps holding them on, fit securely holding my feet en pointe. I wondered what this had to do about being a baby, but couldn’t figure out any connection. Two shots one in each leg and I was ready to go. The forms would stay on, to be taken off later after the shot had done its job.

Sis wheeled in a stroller, another product of dad’s imagination and skill. I was helped into it and we were off. I was wheeled out to the car, then Sis again helped me into the car seat. Our apparent destination is home, I was glad all of the crap was over for at least another day. Back into the stroller and wheeled into the house. My bedroom was upstairs and I wondered how that was going to work now with the braces on my legs. While I was at the salon, everybody else was quite busy, now I am pushed to the guest bedroom, my apparent new home. As we entered I was shocked, the whole bedroom had been converted to a nursery, for the new baby, me. My head swiveled around trying to see what all had been done to the room. The whole room was full of baby furniture, a crib, a changing table, a play pen the most notable pieces.

There were mobiles hanging from the ceiling, bookcases filled with toys and dolls, and an open front dresser loaded with diapers and plastic panties. Sis helped me up from the stroller and into the crib, then attached a strap to secure me in the laid down position. I tried to whisper to her that I needed to use the rest room, but a smile and her pushing on my belly only caused me to pee in the diaper. Some help there Sis.

Mom asked me if I enjoyed my day, I was sure it was a rhetorical question, she wasn’t expecting an answer. She had something in her hand, and then asked me to open my mouth. I reluctantly did so and she grabbed my tongue with a pair of tongs and snapped something around it. It expanded behind my teeth as she twisted it, locking my tongue securely in its grip and I was no longer able to remove it from my mouth. I tried to say something but no intelligent words were possible. Only guttural sounds escaped my lips. Mom smiled and told me that all my nourishment was to be delivered by a bottle, eating solid foods is now impossible only liquids from now on. Your bed time is seven each evening, tomorrow we start filming our baby enjoying her new home and furniture. By tomorrow night you will be a star on the internet and helping the family to financial independence.

“Maybe your recent actions were not the wisest choice, but it will work out in the end. Let’s face it, being a baby is the only job you can perform any more. You are well qualified, wearing diapers from now on, cute as can be, and dressed appropriately for your new job. Maybe school was not the right choice for you, now you can cry and babble all you want, being a baby is so easy, your destiny now assured.”

I so wanted to talk to her to express my sorrow for my stupid actions and plead for mercy, but the only sounds out of my mouth were a baby babbling about nothing. Then when I least expected it a baby bottle was shoved into my mouth, my source of nourishment for the future. Just like the pacifier I started sucking, the warm milk trickling down my throat filling my stomach.

When the bottle was emptied, I was helped onto Mom’s lap and she held me tenderly, patting my back until I burped. I could get used to the holding and hugging real quick. The warm milk made me sleepy, so I was helped back into the crib and strapped in. A mobile above the crib was turned on, the cute little teddy bears dancing above my head, keeping my eyes busy until I closed them and drifted off into slumber land. I do remember sucking on the pacifier after finishing the bottle, something about the action making me content and relaxed.

Waking up to a wet cold diaper is far from enjoyable, but seems to be my future. I tried to get somebody’s attention, but the few noises escaping my mouth were far from attention getting. I laid there watching the mobile spin above me, lost in thought. I now deeply regretted my past actions, way too late to change anything, my parents now convinced this is all I am capable of. Maybe they are right, even now my mind only focused on my teddy bears spinning above me and when my next bottle might appear. Oh and my cold wet diaper, that has to come first.

When I pooped in my diaper and the smell wafted towards my nose, I began to get frantic. Someone needs to help me, I might drown in my own urine and poop. I heard some footsteps, the door opening and Sis wrinkling her nose at my smell. I was helped over to the changing table a strap over my stomach to keep me from falling off. I was cleaned, the wet cold baby wipes actually feeling good. There is nothing worse than warm poop to deal with, believe me. A new diaper, then some plastic panties to keep me from leaking. I was moved to the playpen, laid in the middle of it and several dolls were added to keep me occupied. I had no intention of playing with them, a bit of rebellion coming to the forefront. That was quickly dispelled as Sis placed one in my hands and made to hug it. It felt good, so I held it tight looking it right in the eyes. As if the doll could respond I tried to talk to it, the gibberish coming out of my mouth probably only understood by my dolly friend.

I came to the realization a few moments later that I was being videotaped. I looked across the room to see Sis with her camera taking in my conversation with Dolly. I blushed red, what they had told me was going to happen is already underway. I wonder what my friends will say when they see the video on the internet. Maybe if I am confined to my nursery I will never have to hear the remarks. I went back to playing with my doll, something to keep me from thinking about my situation. A couple of minutes later I realized I was having fun, a simple endeavor that made me feel good.

A new bottle was brought to me and I eagerly consumed its contents. Then after being strapped into my crib I was off to dreamland again. I don’t remember the specific dreams, but had a warm cared for feeling when I woke up. Also another wet cold diaper. I started crying, the only way I had to communicate my distress. Mom came this time, cleaning me up and changing my diaper. She used an extra thick diaper this time, telling me that would keep me dryer, so I would not have to be changed as much. She also took off the forms on my lower legs and helped me to stand on the mattress. I soon found out what the forms did. I could no longer stand on my feet, the pain in my calves putting me on my butt quickly. A few new tears appeared, I was so stupid in my actions, now I am paying for it in spades.

Mom did hold me again on her lap, patting my back until I burped. On the way to my playpen she stopped at a mirror, to show me what I looked like now. I blinked my eyes not believing the image I saw. With the makeup and hair style there was no doubt of my gender. As I was placed down in the playpen, she kissed my cheek, you are so good Babykins. Apparently that is my new name. Robert is no longer, replaced by a cute female baby, that baby is now me, Babykins.

The mobile was turned on and as I watched the teddy bears spinning overhead I slipped off into dreamland again. I had heard mother in the past tell her oldest daughter that is all babies do, drink their bottle, wet and poop their diapers and sleep. I seemed to be doing good at all three, just like a baby.

The next few weeks were very intense as I was constantly in the lens of the camera, everything I did recorded for internet posting. The furniture was there, but now also the clothes Mom was making and the things that Sis was buying for resale. I had pacifiers, hair barrettes, mittens, baby booties, and just about anything else that was related to an infant on me at one time or another. It wouldn’t have been as bad if this was limited to the daytime hours, but the ones I modeled were mine to be used in my care and dressing. So as I was made ready for bed, a couple of barrettes were placed in my hair, a pair of baby booties on my feet and a pacifier in my mouth was the standard for my sleep time.

It was several weeks later when Mom came into the nursery to have a talk with me. She wanted to know if I was enjoying the life of a baby, or if I missed all the things I used to do. I listened to her and took a few minutes to think of my answer. In the mean time she had removed my mouthpiece, which she did once a week, to let me answer her without any hindrance. I guess I did miss my male life some, although looking back, it seemed fake and restricting. As a baby I had no worries, other than somebody to get my bottle and change my diaper. Usually a few wails and someone would be at my side to tend to me. I didn’t really miss solid food, my formula was quite tasty and kept me feeling full and content. Also was responsible for making all my poop runny and smelly.

My first words were garbled, since I seldom used my voice other than crying to get the needed attention. I looked up at Mom then put my hands up to get her to pick me up. She did smiling as she set me on her hip. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, then she returned the kiss on the end of my nose. I giggled a little, then laid my head on her shoulder.

“I am really sorry for what I have done in the past, if I am helping the family being your baby I am fine with the life. I liked to be handled, cuddled and loved. A good feeling spreading through me when I am. It is nice to not worry about things, knowing someone will take care of me. I am not sure about later in life, it is not fair for you to have to take care of me, but I do love you and want to be your cute baby forever.” I reached for the mouthpiece with my mittened hands wanting it put back in, then cuddled in her arms with my head on her shoulder.

I apparently fell asleep, the next thing I remember is waking in my crib, my teddy bears swirling above me. My diaper was wet again, I don’t remember going to the bathroom this much before my introduction to babyhood. I heard the door open and looked to see who was going to change my diaper this time.

If the mouthpiece would have allowed it I am sure my mouth would be wide open, Jennifer my former girlfriend was standing there trying hard to contain her giggles. She walked over to get a closer look, then reached down into the crib and straightened one of my pigtails. I got tickled, causing me to babble that much more. She reached her finger inside the edge of my diaper checking to see how wet I was.

“Oh, I can see baby is wet, don’t worry I will get you changed and then we can play together.” I gave her a funny look wondering about what she was talking about. Play together, this does not sound like the Jennifer I know.

I should say ex-girlfriend. I dated her a few times then we decided to make it boyfriend and girlfriend. That worked for a couple of weeks until I was caught dating another female. Nothing was said at the time she caught me, but it was only a few days later when she informed me it was over. What was worse when she caught me I was kissing my date with a lot of tongue, anybody could see it was not just a casual date. Actually it was my second date with the girl, and we had progressed farther than kissing. No outright sex, but a thorough exploration of each other’s bodies had already been carried out on the first date.

Jennifer took a lot of pleasure in changing my diaper, made a lot of comments about how cute I was and found the frilliest dress to slip onto me after she had the diaper and plastic panties in place. She got me up on her lap, then stuck the nipple of a baby bottle in my mouth. It wasn’t my regular formula but some type of juice. She waited patiently while I finished the bottle, then burped me. Then I was sat down on the floor and handed one of my dolls to play with. I felt a brush going through my hair, then her taking it and braiding it into two distinct braids pigtail style. Of course, ribbons on the ends of the braids, then followed by some lipstick on my lips. Another pacifier was put in my mouth and she cuddled me to her chest. I was held tenderly for quite some time, her leaning over every once in a while to kiss my cheek or forehead. Finally I was placed back in my crib strapped in and she left the room. I could hear her talking to Mom, but not what was said. As usual I drifted off, visions of teddy bears dancing above me.

A kiss on the nose awoke me, Jennifer’s face just inches from it. I had wet my diaper as usual, so she changed me, taking extra time to clean me and powder me. Another bottle, then the pacifier was inserted. I was getting sleepy, there must be something in the milk, one bottle and I am out like a light. I thought I heard her tell me that I was going to school with her, so that I could be part of their home economics classes in taking care of a baby. Surely Mom would not do that to me, exposed to all of my old friends as a baby.

It was a week later when Jennifer appeared early, changing my diaper and slipping one of my frilliest dresses on me. Mittens on my hands, booties on my feet and I was placed in one of Dad’s strollers. Oh gawd she is going to take me to school. I tried to get out of the stroller, but she already had me strapped in. With the mittens on my hands there was no way for me to undo the strap, so I reverted to baby talk. I cried, babbled and sobbed trying to get her attention. This can’t be happening to me. I repeated that over and over till we entered the gates of the school. I was a mess, wet from all the crying and of course wet from using my diaper. I no longer had to think about peeing in my diaper, it just happened, not a good sign for the future if I ever get to return to my male existence. Of course a baby, even a larger than normal one drew a lot of attention. The girls in particular were leaning over the stroller making faces at me and touching my nose. I even got a few kisses on the cheek.

One guy who was with his girlfriend looked at me and made a nasty remark. His girlfriend slapped him so hard, I think I thought I felt the impact. Then apparently kicked him in the shins in an equally vicious manner. I heard her say if he opened his mouth one more time she will tell the whole school his secret. I never saw him again that day.

I was taken to the home economics class, where I was introduced to all the girls in the first period. The rest of the day was a blur. I was changed, bathed, fed, burped, and played with all day long, each new class of girls getting to do all of the above. I missed my naps, so by late afternoon I was grouchy and whiney. Did I mention that Dad had brought a complete set of baby furniture to the school for the girls to use? At lunch though I panicked, I was put into my stroller, then paraded around the school, all of my former classmates being able to see what I had become.

There was some laughing, but I think a lot of the males came to the realization if they goofed off like I did, this also could be their fate. A very sobering fact for most of them. I was laughed at but no comments were made to me directly. The home economics teacher, Ms. Pepperdine thanked me for coming today, and informed me I would be here every other Wednesday to help the girls learn to take care of babies. Since I could not say anything, I just babbled some more, not exactly what I wanted to hear, but nothing I could do to change things. I so wish I could start over, the things I did getting me in this position, with absolutely no future except more of the same. Then I realized I was actually starting life over, this time as a baby.

I was never so glad to see our house when Jennifer pushed me up to the front porch. If I can just talk to Mom about being used as a baby at the school, surely she will have a little sympathy for me. So who comes out our front door to greet me, dear old Mom. She smiled asking me if I enjoyed my day at school. “Just think seeing all your old friends and them getting to play with you, surely you couldn’t want anything better than that.”

Nope Mom is not going to save me from future embarrassment. I imagine if I ever get out of the baby phase I will have learned my lesson, Mom was going to make sure of that.

Now though I had been wondering if the baby thing would ever end. It has been four months, and I am more committed to the lifestyle than before. For one thing I have no control of my peeing and pooping that was lost a couple of months ago. I can’t walk, if allowed out of my crib or play pen, my only mode of moving is too crawl. I seldom use my voice now, the contraption in my mouth allowing only babbling, the few times it is removed when I am checked on, forming a word to speak is almost impossible. I am content, most of my needs are handled and I do love my dollies and teddy bears often spending time talking to them in my baby language. I still hate baby food from a jar, but every few days my dislikes are ignored and I am forced to eat at least three jars of the crap.

On a Monday I noticed all of my family hustling around the house, getting dressed and preparing for something special. Then Mom and Jennifer descended on me and I was bathed, diapered, and dressed in a very colorful baby dress. Booties were placed on my feet and my mittens were slipped on my hands. Some lipstick and I was carried out to the car and put in my car seat, Dad doing the honors. He drove us to an area behind the mall and I was beginning to get worried, this I think is the area where the salon that I had been taken too initially was located. We did drive past the salon, I had been biting down on my pacifier until we went past the place.

He pulled into a parking lot, came around and removed me from the car seat and put me in the stroller which they had brought along. Pushed into a building, the sign behind the counter said it was Becky’s daycare. I almost bit through the pacifier, they are going to leave me in a daycare as they do whatever there have to do. This just can’t be happening. Mom talked to the lady at the counter giving her my bag of diapers, formula and a change of clothes. Another lady was already taking hold of the stroller and preparing to take me to the back. I hand my arms up wiggling them back and forth wanting to be picked up desperately by Mom and not left here. Mom leaned down, kissed me on the nose and told me to be a good baby. Then turned and left. I immediately started to cry, they left me with strangers, and have abandoned me. I wailed and wailed, finally one of the ladies found one of my bottles in my bag and shoved it in my mouth. I was still not happy, but a bottle to comfort me a little was better than nothing.

I was removed from my stroller and placed in a crib, the waist strap tightened to make sure I wouldn’t be going anywhere and a mobile turned on above my head. It wasn’t my teddy bears but I was soon asleep none the less.

A little while later a couple of teenagers came to check on me, found a soaked diaper and proceeded to change me. They talked about me, wondering how I ended up as a baby, changed my dress, brushed my hair, and then fed me another bottle. I got kissed and one of them leaned over, picked up my dress and blew on my stomach causing me to screech and babble away. I got kissed on the cheek and they left, the bottle of warm milk doing its usual and I was soon fast asleep.

I was so happy to see Dad come and get me to take me home. He carried me in his arms while I hung on to him with all of my strength. I was so happy when the car door closed and I could look out the window and see the daycare facility fade away. Even happier when he pulled into our drive. I never found out why I was left at the daycare facility, but every trip in the car caused tremors of fear until something other than the daycare came into focus.

I spent all of my time as a babbling baby, always diapers, baby bottles and confined to a crib or play pen. Jennifer turned out to be a regular fixture around the house, changing my diapers, feeding me my bottle and playing with me. I could never figure out her fascination with me, but I did appreciate her company. Life as a baby can be lonely, the teddy bears and dolls I played with were alright but lacked something personality wise.

I was already an internet sensation, having a presence in all of the social media sites. Of course other than my pictures and videos I had no part in the conversations or comments left for me. Sis handling all of that for her baby sister.

One day a few weeks later there was general turmoil in the house, things were moved and new things added here and there. Jennifer took me for a stroll around the neighborhood in my stroller, then to the park for a while. It was several hours later when we returned, my main concern was my flooded diaper. Behind Dad’s shop was a separate apartment, probably a servants quarters when the house was first built. That is where Jennifer headed when we entered the yard. It looked quite a bit different than the last time I remembered seeing it. As a child I played in the apartment, somewhere to play on a rainy day. Mom was standing there as she opened the front door so Jennifer could push the stroller inside. I was taken out of the stroller and carried into my new nursery, even Jennifer could carry me now since I had lost so much weight. It was still hard for her, but if she got me positioned right on her hip she could manage.

I looked around, my eyes wide with amazement. Just like my old nursery but even more feminine in appearance. No door to open and close just a mesh netting that could be closed trapping me in the room. With mittens on and unable to stand on my feet I would be limited to this room until taken out. New baby furniture all with a pinkish finish to the wood, fitting in with the new décor. There was a rocker over in the corner that Jennifer eased her body into, then called me over. I crawled over and was then helped up onto her lap.

She fussed with her top, then laid a portion of it down unveiling her breast. I looked up at her, swallowed then leaned over and put my lips around her nipple. Her nipples were swollen, a few sucks from my mouth and I was rewarded with warm milk. I eagerly attached myself to that nipple, determined to get every drop of milk from her. A little while later I was switched to the other nipple, more milk for my eager mouth. I fell asleep on her lap, a nipple still in my mouth. I felt myself being picked up, but not wanting to let go of my warm wet nipple. Jennifer eased a finger into my mouth and broke the connection and I was helped off and placed in a crib. I was so full I was instantly back asleep content for a while.

I never did end up talking again, Jennifer is my Mother now, seeing to my care and loving. I have baby sitters if needed, and of course all the latest baby furniture and clothing. I sometimes get to lay in bed with Jennifer, where she plays with me late into the night. One day I was told I might have a baby sister or brother someday, not really understanding what she was telling me. It would be nice if I had someone to play with other than Mommy.

I am happy, being a baby is probably the only thing I could do, and I am told I do it so well. I do make a contribution to the family, Jennifer has mentioned often that my share of the family profits will keep me in diapers forever. Just as long as I have the love of my Mommy, a baby’s life is what I want.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

 Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca