Saturday, June 8, 2024

Francie; Showing Team Spirit

Francie; Showing Team Spirit

We had just completed two hours practicing volleyball. I was in my sophomore year at University, a physical education major and now totally pooped. “Jeremy why don’t you join the girls and I at the malt shoppe for some refreshments.”

Cynthia and I were team members, also sharing several other classes in school. She was always trying to get me to join them, the only member of the volleyball team that did not participate in off the court activities. Also the only male in the group. In our bracket there was no discrimination on who could play volleyball, either males or females were encouraged to play, the only thing limiting participation was whether you could make the team.

I was thin and fairly trim, my physique was not adequate for any of the contact sports. My height would make me a natural for basketball, except my lack of the ability to dribble was known school wide. At basketball tryouts every time I had the ball and started to dribble, the ball suddenly left the court. After several tries, I walked off the court to a standing ovation from anybody watching. There were glad I finally acknowledged my inability to do the basics, now they saw a chance that the team might win a game or two this season.

Ms. Sanderson the volleyball coach had watched me make a fool of myself with my attempts at playing basketball and had caught me before I hit the showers and wanted me to come to the ladies gym and try out for the volleyball team. I tried to decline, but her hand around my wrist and her tugging on my arm had me heading that way very quickly. The girls were playing a game, practicing their serves and returns

She had me watch a few minutes and then put me in the game. Forty minutes later I sat down with the rest of the girls, even more tired, but having some love and respect for the game. I was introduced to everyone, now a member of the squad. We all played hard, the love of the game kept us going when the physical limitations had made us pull back. Always being in the right position to set up the ball took some doing, so often after a good game we were winded and breathing hard. I tried not to notice, but the girls breasts heaving trying to get an adequate breath was more than a distraction for me.

I think that was why I shied away after the game or practice, I didn’t trust my lower extremity from making a statement and embarrassing me. The girls were fun to be around, but even in horsing around they did things that caused my red blood male instincts to rise to the occasion. On this day she had finally worn me down, I might get laughed at, but I was needing something cold and wet, one of their malts just might do the trick. We all piled into her van that is eleven females and one lone male. As soon as I was seated way too many females set next to me or on me, their butts and breasts up close and personal.

Bad idea, junior was reacting, no matter how hard I tried to think pure thoughts. The girls didn’t even make a comment, but after we got there Cynthia pulled me aside and wrapped a sweater around my waist to help obscure the offending fella. I got a kiss and was quickly dragged into the place and seated right between two of the most buxom of the group. As I let my butt hit the cushion I was hugged from both sides, one kissing me on the cheek and the other right on my ear. Not helping here girls that only seemed to escalate the rushing of blood to that misbehaving organ.

At least, they let me drink my malt in peace, their leaning over to one of the other girls causing a brief contact with a breast the only thing disturbing my enjoyment of the cold chocolate malt. Their conversation was so animated and fast, you had to have a scorecard to just be able to figure out what was being talked about. I listened and nodded every once in a while. That seemed to appease them, leaving me to my own thoughts somewhat.

As we left the malt shoppe I was hugged and utterly surrounded by the whole team. I swear each of them had their body wrapped around mine, their female smell even though they had sweated most intoxicating. With hints of many different perfumes in the air, it was impossible to not be aware of being in the midst of eleven females. Again I was thankful for the sweater, hiding a lot of my body’s total disregard for any integrity or virtue I might have had.

We went back to the gym, now that it was empty and they took showers. They tried to drag me in, but I was watching for such an attempt and had distanced myself, allowing me enough time to make a getaway. I ended up leaving my school clothes there, where I changed in the coach’s office every day before practice. Maybe Cynthia will see that they get returned to me. Getting them myself would be taking too big a chance. Since making the team, I was now included in study sessions at Cynthia’s house. We actually did study, the study sessions were a necessary evil since to stay on the team you had to maintain a B average in all your classes.

We all had our weaknesses in our classes, mine was math, Cynthia’s was Spanish, and our lead scorer Babs had trouble with English. We each helped the other, where we could, the team coming out ahead in the long run. In these study sessions was where my nickname come about. I was born Franklin Edward Woodward, my teachers loved to use Franklin Edward when I was called on knowing that it irked me. If I made a fuss they would just sneak it in more, so I ignored them. Since I was the only male on a female volleyball team, the girls decided that Francie was a much better choice. I pleaded with them to pick something else, when they came up with Edith I stopped my protesting. Francie it is.

Unfortunately for me it was used in a class once and soon I was called Francie all the time in class or away from school. I got bullied a little by some of the jocks, but when we went undefeated in ten games to start the season it quickly ended. The school newspaper did an article on us, each team member receiving a short biography on our student status and our team position. With my height I played the front line, the girls setting me up and then me hammering it down the throats of the opposing team. At least that was the game plan.

On the team we were pretty evenly skilled, all of us five foot nine inches and above in height. I had a little advantage in height, and I could jump higher than the other girls most of the time. I managed to play a little more than the other girls because I was faster on my feet. That allowed me to move around on the court to keep the ball in play when one of our set ups went awry.

In a hard played game we were all tired at the end of it, leaning over trying to get our breaths. The other members of the team not on the court gave us the support needed for us to keep up the action during the game and helped us cool down after the game, handing us water and towels. Unlike most other university teams of twelve athletes we were a team, our record on the court proving that fact. When a substitute came on the court it was not one that was just filling in, it was a player determined to score and put the game away if possible.

We managed to stay undefeated right up to the playoffs. Every other team in our bracket was gunning for us, the last few matches of the regular season were intense, the score quite often only a point difference at the end. Now since rally scoring was adopted we played to 25, the best three out of five games the overall winner. I remember one match where we went 26-24, 23-25, 25-23, 22-25 and 25-21. At the end of that match we all fell down on the floor of the gym, not having any energy left to do anything else.

Our teammates helping us up after a while and leading us to the locker room. The girls did eventually get me to shower with them, an extremely tight swimsuit worn under my other clothes keeping me modest. I learned to shower with my eyes closed, usually one of the girls would lead me to a locker after wards before I would open them. Of course, I was kidded unmercifully, to them I was just another member of the team. What I had between my legs meant nothing to them. As far as me seeing them naked, they wanted to know why I was so bashful. They all showed just as much skin when they went to the beach in their bikinis.

We entered the play-offs ready to defend our undefeated title. During the play-offs we faced the second place team in our bracket in the first match. I guess we were really hyped up, ready to take all on as we beat them in three straight games. Four more matches to go in the playoffs. We watched the other teams play, there were some talented players here. I did notice I was the only male represented on the playoff teams.

We won our next two matches easily, they were good, a lot better than what we faced in our bracket at home but we were cooking on all twelve cylinders. The next day we watched the morning game, then snacked a little before our afternoon match. These games were definitely not a push over, two games apiece so far and the fifth game 24-24 when our coach called a time out. She just let us catch our breath, no words of wisdom, we knew what we needed to do, it was time to bear down and find that little bit extra to make a difference.

We volleyed twice before it was lobbed up and I managed to slam it down between two defenders. We calmly walked off the court after hugging our opponents. Even I did the hugging, when earlier in the season I refrained from hugging a female, I was hugged back so often I just did it now as a normal thing. Cynthia told me several times everyone thought I was a girl, just flat chested and hated wearing any makeup. Well, my teammates decided they could correct the makeup part. they did not go overboard, just mascara and some eye liner, the mascara applied often during the game. When later in the season Cynthia started applying lip gloss to my lips I frowned but put up with it. It did help to keep the lips from drying out. Soon the lip gloss had color to it, as I first noticed it in the locker room mirror after the game. The image now female, only a lack of breasts spoiling the look.

We did win the next two matches, now the only game remaining is the championship game. We were scheduled to play a team from the northern part of the state, their height is what makes them formidable. All of the girls six foot or more in height. We switched to a hard serve game, if we could get it through their weak spots we would not have to worry about the war at the net, a skirmish we would have a hard time winning. The idea was to serve hard, the ball just clearing the net and falling rapidly, hopefully fast enough for them to not be able to return the serve.

We had limited luck, they were quick, saving many a ball just inches from the floor. So we had to go to plan B. In this scenario we would keep it airborne along the front net, then when a spot opened up we would slam it in the hole. That in itself is hard to do when a team is limited to three contacts with the ball each serve. So whoever received the serve had to keep their eyes open as to who might be in an open spot to slam the ball back. Then get the ball to that position before the defense changed.

We did win that game and the playoffs, the team was ecstatic the hugs and the towel flicks going on for quite some time. Believe me getting hit with a wet towel smarts, but I couldn’t bad mouth it since I did my share of the same thing. We received the trophy in a ceremony after the game, with a dinner and the official awarding of the trophy scheduled for the next evening. On the ride back from the venue I told them I would pass on the dinner, not having any nice clothes to dress up in. Well that went over big, I was told in no uncertain terms I would be there or else. I backed down hoping to just let it slide and when I didn’t show up it would be over with.

Cynthia and a couple of the girls had other ideas though. The next morning at school I was accosted and one of them stayed by my side all day until we were excused later in the day to get ready for the dinner. Instead of home Cynthia drove me and one other to a salon on the other side of town. I was dragged in and deposited in a chair towards the back of the salon. Cynthia leaned closer and read me the riot act.

You are a member of this team and what one does goes for all the rest. You will suffer through this and be the good team member we are familiar with. Since you don’t want to dress as a young man for the dinner you will attend the dinner as a female team member, a much more appropriate idea. Now keep that mouth closed, nothing that they are going to do to you is permanent. You owe us this, as we have put up with your attitude all season long. I will be right next to you all the rest of the day, and if I hear one peep from you I will personally embarrass you in front of the whole school. If you don’t believe me just give me a try.”

I nodded my head, suddenly looking at my feet. I guess I have been a jerk sometimes, this will not kill me, or so I hoped. I conceded defeat and kept quiet and let then do their thing with me. The next two hours were surreal, every ounce of my masculinity was wiped from me. From having all of my body hair removed to having my hair set in curlers, it happened so fast that I really didn’t realize the effect of the changes till I was led in front of a mirror almost three hours later. All that was left was Francie, in a LBD with a scoop neckline, four inch heels, and holding a black clutch purse. I had been given breasts courtesy of some breast forms, the hair style after the curlers were removed was feminine, but the overall effect was just plain Francie.

I teetered along in my heels as we made our way to the hotel where the dinner was to be held. When the rest of the girls saw me I was mobbed, hugged, and squeezed. I had an idea that from now on I would be expected to be Francie both on and off the court. We were each introduced and a small biography read about each of us. I am not sure who was responsible for my biography, but I was more than red in the face when they were through reading it. Lots of pictures were taken, the flashbulbs were still popping off as we headed back to our seats.

When the last award was presented, the dinner was officially over. Everybody got up, and mingled. All of the other girls wanted to meet us, exchanging hugs as we met and talked. Finally two hours later we headed home, at least I thought we were headed home. It was decided by all of the girls to have a sleepover at Cynthia’s house, I protested being tired, just wanting to get home and get some sleep. No such luck, I was dropped at Cynthia’s house while some of the girls went to get their sleepover stuff.

I told Cynthia I had to call my Mom, otherwise I would be grounded for life. She smiled, she had already handled the task, Mom not expecting me till after lunch tomorrow. I finally gave in, every excuse I could think of had been tried, nothing working, so I guess it is sleepover time. I was helped to get the dress and assorted lingerie off, the bra and panties remained though. A cute baby doll nightie was handed to me, then when I just held it in my hands several helpful individuals made sure I was encased in it. Even in our nighties we were obviously a team, other than the color of our nightwear we were dressed identically.

We talked about the game, snacked on several types of foods, drank way too much soda pop, then we did each other’s hair and makeup. Since I was so inexperienced I was shown what to do, but still had to perform the services on some of the other girls. They talked about boys, while I remained quiet but thoroughly red for that portion of the conversations. We were in Cynthia’s rec room spread out all over the floor in sleeping bags. I tried to keep some distance between me and the girls, but to no avail. When I finally dozed off at four thirty on Saturday morning I was surrounded by the girls, a lot of them lying right next to me, with their arms wrapped around me. I guess my male apparatus just gave up, he had been aroused for so long, it finally just gave up, retreating to a flaccid state and stayed that way the remainder of the evening and early morning. I did feel cared for as the girls made sure I was hugged and cuddled.

I hoped I would be spared any more embarrassment the next morning, but the girls had brought some short shorts and a tank top for me to wear home. Then they had the audacity to go home with me, to make sure I didn’t sneak in and change before my Mom saw me. Mom was shocked for a few minutes, then I was held in her embrace for at least twenty minutes before she finally let me go to my room.

The girls hung around, Mom deciding to make them lunch, of which I was volunteered to help out. Cynthia did volunteer to help too, sparing me some tasks I had never participated in before. It was almost five before the girls headed to their homes, Cynthia asking me to come over tomorrow morning, she wanted to discuss today’s activities with me privately. I tried to decline, then she told me if I was not there by ten I might experience many unwanted actions if she had to come and get me. I agreed to be there, then I got a kiss on the lips and a groping hug. The kiss was quite a kiss lasting for quite some time. I still had the bra on, her fingers sneaking underneath and pinching my nipples, making me almost faint on the spot.

The next morning I was very reluctant to leave my bed, but Cynthia’s last remark did make me give in and leave my nice warm bed. I dressed in some shorts, and a boy’s t-shirt, both from my male wardrobe, and made my way to her house. I rang the doorbell and was yanked into the house as soon as she opened the door. Dragged to her room, after a brief stop to talk to her Mom about me being there and taking me to her room. I was set on the edge of her bed as she stood in front of me and started her prepared speech.

All of the girls had a meeting before the dinner last night discussing you and your relationship with the team. In a unanimous vote, it was decided that I needed to convert to the female gender, both for the team and for myself. Her Mom had a discussion with your Mom and the girls plan was laid out for my conversion and life as a female. Everybody had agreed, that my living as a female was logical, considering my behavior and actions the last few weeks. In more than a few instances my behavior was of a typical female, my appearance at the dinner proving that fact wholeheartedly. I was viewed as a female all evening, even the one doing my biography convinced of my female gender.

She stopped for a few moments to see if I would protest their wishes, but my sudden lack of response telling her everything she needed to know. I was pulled up from the bed and hugged tightly as her hands undid my belt buckle on my shorts, causing them to slide down my legs. My t-shirt was lifted over my head and my underwear followed my shorts to the floor. Before I could defend myself a bra was slipped over my arms and fastened behind me. She made me lift my feet as my male clothes were removed, my shoes joining the two pieces of male apparel. A pair of panties was helped up my legs, followed by a dress that was slid over my shoulders and zipped up the back.

Just like that I was dressed as a female and again pulled into a tight hug. I mumbled a few words, but the kiss she laid on me stopped those utterances too. I sighed, deciding I was now a female in everybody’s eyes so fighting this was not worth it. We spent the afternoon at the mall with all of the rest of the team, trying on clothes and snacking at the food court. An hour into the excursion I was just another female team member, having fun with my girlfriends.

Surprisingly, I never reverted back to male apparel staying a female in dress and actions from that day forward. Mom made sure I got a new wardrobe, taking me shopping for it quite often. We had a lot of fun shopping, a mother and daughter bonding for the first time in my life. I quickly decided I wanted to be her daughter, filling a hole in her life and making mine that much richer.

It was a turning point in my life, showing team spirit just the first step in that change in my life. I was pushed into the female gender by my teammates, but quickly joined in, a decision I have never regretted.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Macy; Maintaining An Image

 Macy; Maintaining An Image

I was looking through the credit card bills for the last month. Neither my wife nor I are hurting for money, both having successful careers that we have been able to walk away from in the last few years. Due to being high profile in the community we both are expected to attend quite a few social and charitable functions every month. Mackenzie is more tolerant of these affairs than I, often I conveniently find something that has to be done, an excuse to avoid going to them. We are both in our forties, considered still good looking, and have the means to dress well. Our house is paid for and we have successfully raised our children and married them off leaving the house empty. I might add after three kids a most welcome change.

During a typical month there will be somewhere between five and ten of these affairs, most of them held on the weekend. Mackenzie has three closets of evening gowns, labeled with what affair she wore them to and the date of the soiree. Her explanation is that you can’t wear the same dress within a three month period, and in some cases it can’t ever be worn again to the same group if the group is prominent enough. This particular month the bills for beauty services and clothes is quite staggering. I debated bringing up the subject, although I have been a husband long enough to realize that some things are best left unsaid.

In this particular instance Mac appeared behind me, looking over my shoulder. She picked one of the bills, wrote on it to call them tomorrow, the discount she was promised was not on the invoice and then laid it on the corner of the desk. As she looked at the other bills several more invoices joined that pile, I presume she will be busy tomorrow morning. I casually asked if all of this is necessary every month. Before she could load her guns, I blurted out that she is a beautiful woman, surely all of this is not necessary to keep her looking exceptional. I had been holding my breath as I got all of that statement out of my mouth before she could respond. I hoped she would give me an answer without squaring off against me. She is quite intelligent along with being beautiful, the few arguments we have had over the years proving she is very formidable in holding up her half of any discussion. I have not come out ahead in any argument with her.

She was quiet for several minutes, contemplating her answer. Then she sat down on my lap and told me what her weekly ritual involves, just to keep her looks to the same level of beauty as it is now. There was a little twist of her butt as she got comfortable on my lap causing me to squirm a little. When she finished I was astounded, her daily beauty regimes, her salon appointments, her time at the gym, and then shopping for actual clothes, getting them altered and then finding the right accessories to make the outfit complete all necessary to attend one affair. If multiple affairs were scheduled, multiply everything by the number of events she is asked to attend.

I told her it was insane, just call them and tell them it isn’t worth it and be done with it. Mac smiled, it isn’t quite that easy. If you want out of a social affair, you come up with some lame excuse, like you booked the golf course a year ago and they will not refund your money. That doesn’t work the same for females. It is expected of them to attend, not only to be there but to look ravishing or the rumor mills swing into operation and soon Mac is headed for the old folks home, or her marriage is on the rocks, they just haven’t brought in the lawyers yet. I could see her point, I have heard some of those same things mentioned about some of my colleague’s wives, so I didn’t doubt her explanation one bit.

Then Mac got one of her little smirks, her eyes focusing on my body as she got up and walked around me. A pinch on the ass, a hot and heavy breath on the back of my neck and I was a goner. She suggested a little switching of the roles for next month. October is Halloween month, always several costume balls and various other gatherings where we could switch roles and I could see what it is like for her. I was already shaking my head no, I had no wish to get dragged into this, none of what she had mentioned had any kind of attraction for me. I wasn’t even curious enough to ask any more questions.

That was all good, until she proposed a little bet. If I could attend her October affairs and keep her, now my attractiveness, to her standards for the whole month, she will take the cruise I have been wanting to get her on for years. If I failed and get bad marks for something not taken care of regarding my looks or clothes I will have to fill in for her until I get it right, however long that may be. That means you will have to maintain my standards no matter what else comes up in this time frame. Melody can be the judge, she attends the same affairs as I do and can be trusted to be truthful and blunt in matters like this. She has always had a soft spot for you, I am sure she will be fair, but I also doubt you can bribe her for a better mark.

Melody was Mac’s best friend, who for some reason or another had taken an interest in me. She was over to our house quite often, involved in conversations with both of us regularly, me with my hobbies and Mac about anything else that might come up. She even played a couple of games of tennis with me, but then she cheated making me run all over the court while she just stood there hitting the ball back to me, never even getting sweaty.

Oh that mentioned prize was so inviting, the cruise was one of those around the world cruises, seven months of hitting every port and attraction from one end of this planet to the other. One that I have been pleading with her to take forever, but to fill in for Mac was a daunting task. Stupidly I asked her what she will be doing if I fill in for her. A big smile lighted up her face. “I have grandchildren that I have not had time to enjoy and spoil, so that is where I will be. I will take a week or two to show you the ropes, where to shop and introduce you to the techs at the salon. A visit to the gym so that you can see what I do to keep my figure, then I will go play with my grandchildren while you have fun here. Once you start this there is no backing out, you are involved until you get your appearance to my standards and maintain it for four consecutive weeks.”

“So do we have a deal, a cruise in exchange for some time as me? Come on Pet, you will make an attractive woman, your body is the right size and you face and hair can be made to look gorgeous. The figure additions can be handled by the salon, nothing permanent, but if you do have trouble maintaining my standards some of the changes do resist changing back after a lengthy delay.”

I asked her if I could think about it tonight and give her an answer in the morning. No problem there, but then she had to rub my nose in it, digging out all the travel brochures and going through them highlighting places she might like to see. I knew when I laid down in the bed that night I would agree to try it, the pictures of the destinations in the cruise brochure making it very hard to resist. They seemed embedded in my mind, closing my eyes I could picture us on a beach in the South Pacific, sun, sand and romance.

I did agree the next morning, and was whisked away by Mac as soon as I had put on some clothes and brushed my hair. I guess my body was far from masculine, Mac assuring me that I would make a convincing woman. I was about five eight, light brown hair that was sun bleached from my exposure on the golf and tennis courts. It was fairly long, almost to my shoulder blades, always kept in a ponytail low on my neck. It had been that length for years, but I seldom had it out to be observed. Most of the time it was stuck down my shirt, just the hair band showing at the back of my neck. With regard to body hair I was not overly hairy, a few hairs on my chest, some on my lower arms and a few on my lower legs. My facial hair was sparse, unless I got hot and sweaty, a once a week shave pretty much took care of it.

Although I played golf and tennis regularly, I had almost no muscle development, my arms just about as sparse as Mac’s. The key word in the previous statement is played. I did play golf and tennis, but at such a leisurely pace it couldn’t even be considered exercise. Riding a golf cart around the course can’t be considered much of an exertion on my part. I did hit the tennis ball back and forth, but definitely no run to the far corner to hit it back. If it didn’t land in front of me it did not get returned. The only exception was my games with Melody where I tried harder not wanting to be beaten so bad by a female. As far as golf goes my drives were seldom over a hundred yards, most of the time barely the minimal necessary to still be able to play the game. My companions in golf always suggested I use the women’s tees so that I could at least keep up some.

I always went with the name of Pet, a shortening of the name Pat Eli Thomas, a name I have been living with for almost forty-one years. On the way to the salon Mac decided Petula could be my fem name, the story for general circulation was Petula is Mac’s sister, filling in for Mac while she has some female problems taken care of medically. Once at the salon I was taken in and delivered to one of the treatment rooms at the back of the salon.

It was explained to me about my transformation, and the permission slips that had to be signed to allow the procedures. I would be transformed over the next two days that would produce my base image, the image I would have to maintain to win the bet. Of course, clothes, alterations, voice interaction with the other ladies attending the affairs will have to be accomplished too. It was beginning to sound like an impossible task, but Mac was on a roll, having me sign the forms and stripped of my male clothes so the techs could start. With a wicked smile she gathered up my male clothes and left the salon, promising to be back to pick me up at seven that evening. That was ten hours away, oh gawd what have I let myself be talked into.

I actually broke down and shed a tear or two, I had a pretty good idea of my fate, what with all I will have to do, the interaction and buying clothes, probably well above anything I could accomplish. Maybe I can survive the onslaught, I know my appreciation for Mac will be much greater. I can see the cruise ship leaving without us, but then it was only a dream to start with. At least Mac will get some time with the grandchildren. Maybe I can find some time to visit them too. With five of them in two separate families, from ages two to four, we have only visited them at Christmas. The fact they only live about an hour away from our home another sad statistic.

I was covered in a whitish cream both front and back while I stood near the table in the room. After twenty minutes the cream was wiped off, leaving me quite hairless and my skin so soft. Then I was laid back on the table and my feet were placed in stirrups. One of the techs stepped between my legs and took hold of my male thingy, finding a spot to glue it to my groin so that it could be covered up with a quite authentic looking vagina. It took her about an hour to change my sex, I did feel a few things but mostly it was just numb down there.

I stared at my now empty groin, as my penis was glued back between my legs, the realization sinking in that as far as others are concerned I am no longer a male, but a female with an attractive vagina. The implications that came along with that realization really hit hard, a former male now the one to be desired from members of the male gender. Maybe I will turn out ugly and not have to deal with a male’s attention like Mac has complained about at times.

Mac on more than one occasion has had to deal with a male’s interest in her even thought she wears her wedding rings all the time. According to her she has become quite the put down expert, the balls and social gatherings where the most trouble came from. Due to my frequent absence from these gatherings she has had to deal with the problem by herself, where if I had been there one look and they would have moved on. Now I will find myself in the same predicament.

The next area for them to move to was my chest, I doubt there is anything that comes close to symbolizing a female as a set of breasts. I couldn’t get that straight in my mind, me with two prominent breasts, breasts that couldn’t be just taken off to resume a male image. Two good sized cups were glued to my chest directly above my nipples. Then a hose was hooked to the front of the cups and a pump turned on starting to suck the loose tissue on my chest into the cups. A syringe of fatty tissue was injected into each cup, to be absorbed into the skin to add the needed fullness to the tissue. I just laid there, picking up my head quite often to look at my changing torso. When the cups are full, there will not be much doubt about my gender, the two main attributes of a female will now be front and center on my body.

As the pump was working away at developing some cleavage for me, the techs were working on my nails, both fingernails and toenails. The fingernails received extensions after my existing nails were filed and cleaned thoroughly. The toenails were cleaned, then they received three coats of polish after a base coat to keep the color from bleeding through to my original nail. Then the same done to my extensions on my fingernails. I now had twenty digits with a coral pink polish that shined brightly.

As they finished the nails, my beard was done away with and my eyebrows were thinned out drastically, now just two highly arched fine lines of hair above each eye. A cream again for the beard removal, left on longer, for a full hour guaranteed to stop all future hair growth. Some moisturizing cream applied and left on, after most of it was absorbed into the skin my hand touching my face met with some very soft skin, almost silky in its texture. What a difference, maybe not as visible physically but there none the less. A hand slid over my cheek and chin with no resistance, just smooth and sexy skin.

Hair was next, the tech washing and conditioning my longish locks. Her massage of my hair felt so good, that part I could learn to live with. For the next half hour my locks were trimmed into a quite feminine style, then way too many curlers were used, guaranteeing lots of curls for the style. A time under the dryer for the curl to set, my mind wandering about how I was going to cope with all of this.

Then a brief lucid moment when my mind decided to work, I realized that Mac did not have her hair done in curls, she mostly kept her hair long and straight or in a high ponytail with ribbons that matched her outfit that day. I could see the rules were being changed to make sure I would be filling in for her for quite some time. I was upset at first, but later after my hairstyle had been brushed out and my makeup was being done, I came to the conclusion that all of this pampering isn’t too bad. Now can I cope with the rest that comes along with it? Time will tell.

The suction of the pump trying to make mountains out of mole hills finally shut off, the cups on my chest nearly full. I realized that my world just got up ended, a fairly prominent pair of breasts now protruding from my chest and since they were sucked from my body, they will be around for quite some time, if not forever. Another little fact that was glossed over, I am sure it was covered in the things to be done to me, but did they actually think I could understand all that was told me and make the right decision while facing life as a female.

For clothes I was given a white blouse, which was almost transparent allowing the full view of my ivory colored bra. The panties, ivory to match the bra, covered up the bottom half of a corset, the corset used to define a waist I did not possess previously. Stockings attached to the corset made my legs shine and helped the four inch heels to slide on to my feet. From the waist down the outfit was a black pencil skirt, guaranteed to shorten my stride and make walking somewhat difficult. The fact that it barely covered the stocking tops, made me feel like I was almost naked down below.

Mac didn’t forget me, although she was a little late, I am sure to make me realize the situation I was in. Dressed as a female, no ID and my car keys at home I was dependent on her for everything. But to take her place I would soon have the basics and could come and go as I wish. What I didn’t know was that a few other things had been changed, my former independence soon to be curtailed drastically.

I was treated to dinner out that night, a surreal experience, being greeted and treated as a female. Then home, the pampering still being dosed out in fairly large portions. I was helped to get undressed, then slid into a gorgeous negligee that totally enveloped me. Then I was cuddled for hours, her hands all over my body, but never where I wanted them to be. That left me highly frustrated, on edge and very horny.

In the morning I was sent to the bathroom to take a shower and brush my hair, when I didn’t return a while later she found me rubbing my groin up and down the door frame. She laughed at me, not giggled but outright laughter. I was hauled off, dressed in some sweats and taken to the salon, all the time shaking her head at my actions. I did not receive any underwear for the trip, only the sweat pants and top.

She mentioned that since I did not have ID as a female I should not drive, any interaction with the police could lead to me being exposed as a pervert, a male dressing as a female for some type of nefarious reasons. To handle that possible scenario she has talked with Hilda, our part-time maid and she has agreed to take me to my appointments and for shopping when needed. That way I can just be Petula with no worries about getting around. I sighed again, this time a little heavier, my independence slowly slipping away. Not being able to freely get around would impact me quite a bit. I am sure part of the reason for using Hilda would be to restrict my access to anything that might change my fate. Mac wanting me locked into this role, to truly experience everything she does in life, not able to make an excuse and avoid parts of it. A habit of mine that I have used extensively in the past, a fact that she was more than aware of.

To make sure I willingly complied with her request she confiscated my wallet, and all my credit cards. In its place I was handed a list of all the places she does business with along with the charge account number that had been set up for each. I was allowed one hundred dollars in cash, anything more had to be cleared by her. I started to say something to her about the small amount, but when she first got involved in these events I insisted she open accounts at each place, so she would not have to be carrying credit cards or large amounts of cash with her. What is good for the goose, I presume in this case, is also good for the gander, sorry former gander.

The salon worked its magic, by the time Hilda came to pick me up at six o’clock there was nothing left of Pet. I was drilled in deportment, taught how to maintain my hairstyle and do my own makeup repairs. I later found out that the makeup was actual stain, repeated use would embed the colors, thus not requiring future applications. I spent hours in heels of varying heights, and had to try on a seemingly endless pile of clothes to find my right size and what looked good on me. The finished image was all gurl, and quite attractive, too attractive for my liking. The clothes that I ended up with would not disguise the image any, only enhance it.

Hilda gave me such a smile when she saw me, then quickly loaded the bags of clothes that is my new wardrobe into the car. She held the car door for me, her smile now a smirk. I was driven home, then she and I carried the bags into the house. She wanted me to just go on in and she would take care of everything, but I wanted something to do so I would not have to face Mac right away. I made it as far as the living room where I was tackled and sent to the floor.

Hilda picked up the bags I was carrying and went on to our bedroom, giggling all the way, while Mac saw to messing up my hair and face real good. I was groped, pinched, licked, and almost anything else you can imagine while Mac was giggling away. Oh there was kissing too, by the time she finished with me, my lipstick was smeared all over my face. Then she had the nerve to snap a picture of me, looking like I had been ravaged by someone, telling me that would be an extra week, since I had not been able to maintain my base image for longer than an hour.

I was led off to the bedroom to find all the closets open, the new clothes for me hung in my former male closet. All of my male clothing now missing, even the dresser now loaded with panties, bras and assorted hosiery. Mac pointed to the vanity where a list of socials, balls and other meetings for October was laid, so that I could plan my schedule and participation for each event. I set down at the vanity hard, and quickly placed my head into my hands. I instantly had a headache, one of those migraine types. Mac set close to me rubbing my back, then started nibbling on my neck and ears. Exactly what I had done to her in the past when I was in a romantic mood.

I told her I was not in the mood, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and placed my hair into a ponytail, then went to my dresser and removed a nightie. After losing my clothes, I slipped on the nightie and crawled into bed, I turned to the side, my one breast almost getting caught between the bed and my body. I pulled the covers up and switched off the light on my nightstand. I let out a huge sigh, then closed my eyes and tried to not think about anything. I felt her cuddle my back, then reach her arms through to hold my breasts. God it felt so good, but if I even twitched I knew it would be hours before I would be able to get any sleep. I guess I dozed off for that is the last thing I remembered until the alarm the next morning.

Over the next few days I was taken to her gym, my new membership handled and an hour spent exercising as Mac usually did. Then to an early dinner, where she ran over the list of upcoming events that I would be required to attend. She gave me some pointers on what was required, and some info on the people involved. I soon saw that filling in for her would be daunting, if not a total disaster. She stayed focused, never acknowledging the fact that I would most likely fail in my efforts. Since her name was freed from the gossip, Petula would be filling in and her name would be associated with any failure or disaster.

Then two days later she packed and left, but not before seeing to me. I maybe got five minutes sleep that night, every orifice on my body got utilized and I was sore and mentally out of it as she kissed me goodbye and tweaked my nipples.

I did spend the day in bed, although Hilda did check in on me several times. Finally at five o’clock I stumbled to the bathroom to handle a pressing need. Since I was awake I needed to figure out just what I was going to do. I was getting used to my additions and my lack of any male equipment. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought previously, lots of little things were pleasant and I could get used to them quite easily.

Hilda was cleaning in the kitchen when I arrived downstairs. She took one look at me and marched me back upstairs to our bedroom. She picked out an outfit for me to wear, then asked if I needed any help in dressing. I thanked her for her concern but told her that I thought I could handle the situation. It took me a lot longer to dress than Mac ever did, but I did manage. The hairstyle was easily coerced back into something feminine, a touch up of my lipstick got me looking quite feminine again.

I passed the Hilda inspection this time, her smile quite contagious. I set at the dining room table with all the info on the upcoming month, trying to figure out what I needed to do to make it through the month. I made up several lists of clothes needed, actually evening gowns primarily. I decided tomorrow I will embark on a shopping trip, to see if I can find the perfect dress for each event. Mac had suggested that I look through her closets to see what she wore to the last event, giving me an idea of what I would be looking to buy for this year’s event.

There were six events for the month of October with two costume balls at the end of the month. The two costume balls were not associated with any particular group, one being held at the country club and the other at the local convention center downtown. That one was sponsored by the local chamber of commerce, an organization I used to belong to. I had ten days to the first affair, so knew I needed to get my shit together quickly.

The next morning I headed out shopping, that is Hilda and I headed out to find the perfect gown for each event. Four hours later I was mentally drained, having to try on at least fifty evening gowns so far and nothing seemed to be right for any event. Hilda shadowed me, quite often giggling away at my frustration. To keep from being relegated to Mac’s life for all eternity I pleaded with Hilda for help. She finally gave in, but made me promise to not mention her help to Mac. Mac had made her promise that she would observe but not help, but Hilda felt sorry for me, knowing that I most likely would not ever see another piece of male clothing in my lifetime.

Hilda did point out some selections that might be appropriate, but made me make the final choice, thus relieving her of some guilt for helping me. So eight hours later we made it back home, with five dresses, a start but still three more dresses to go. Hilda recommended a trip to the alterations people in the morning, since one of the dresses had to be altered and back in a couple of days ready for the first event. That took up most of the following day, although we did find one more dress at the salon later in the day after my regular appointment. I was truly pooped, after getting in and out of my clothes several times that day while the dresses were marked for alterations. Then again at the salon while my female accessories were checked to see if they were still attached firmly and functional.

Of course, my hair and makeup were refreshed while my nail color was changed to match the dress for the first event. At home I practiced talking in a feminine manner, my voice not that deep, it was my choice of words that tended to give me away. In our discussions later in the week Hilda smiled at my new voice, giving me a hug in response to all of my hard work. The dress was ready to be picked up from the alteration people, after I tried it on again to make sure it fit properly. It fit tight to my body all the way from my bust to my lower hips, not a wrinkle in sight. Hilda reminded me I had to watch what I ate, anything extra or in a larger portion would make the dress to not fit properly causing me a lot of grief in the future. I knew what she was hinting at, if the dress did not fit another span of time would be added to my role as Mac.

The day of the event Mac made a surprise visit, walking directly to my bedroom and starting to inspect her stand in. I was carefully scrutinized, body, clothes, hair and makeup. I think she was a little miffed, since she could not find any fault with my appearance. Still a smile on her face, since I had the four hours at the first event to get through before I could relax.

Melody’s husband drove us to the event, he had managed to evade going there himself, but did volunteer to get us there. I think he just wanted to see me all dressed up, maybe snapping a picture or two for future use if needed. I had played golf with him on occasion, we weren’t exactly friends but we did get along. His eyes bugged out when the two of us emerged from my house. Melody having to kick him in the shins to get his focus back on her. Since she was wearing pointed toe heels I am sure he felt it, his attention did quickly return to his wife, never even looking my way during the trip. He let us off at the door, promising to come back and pick us up later in the evening.

I was a bundle of nerves as Melody took me around introducing me to Mac’s friends and other influential females at the gathering. Then a male approached the two of us, introducing himself and asking me for a dance. I was looking at Melody figuring that he was asking her for a dance. Melody giggling told me otherwise. I had no idea what to do, Melody placing my hand in his handling the impasse. He led me off to the dance floor then assumed the male position as he held me in his arms. I looked over to where Melody was standing willing her to help me out. I got a smile and then she turned and walked over to the bar to get a drink.

I made a few wrong steps before I started following his lead. After a few moments he pulled me closer to him, now our bodies were touching quite a bit. I felt like leaning my head on his shoulder but luckily some saneness surfaced and I managed to pull back some. I thanked him for the dance and I was left with Melody again, her smirk obvious and threatening to proceed to a full blown giggle attack.

Four more dances that evening, left me wondering how I would be able to handle the male attention in the future. Then I had a duh moment, I did not have wedding rings like Mac, I am sure it would not deter everyone, but less is definitely better. Thinking back to tonight I had four dances that I was unable to avoid and eleven requests for dances that I managed to avoid somehow. Suddenly my respect for Mac grew quite a bit.

When I was not fighting off the male of the species I did manage a few conversations with some of Mac’s female friends. I tried to remember their names and not say the wrong things, but after the evening was over I had no idea how I did. I was very thankful when Melody’s husband picked us up, dropping me at my home, then heading on home themselves. I couldn’t get out of the heels fast enough, the dress quickly following the heels. I made it to my bedroom, slithered out of the underwear and donned a nightie and was soon lost to the world.

The next morning I was awoken with a kiss, my eyes shot open to see a smiling Mac glaring at me. She handed me a list of things that were not done correctly, including mistakes made at the event. I groaned as there were twenty-five notations listed, ranging from not hanging up my clothes after getting home to mistakes in conversations with some of her friends, that would have to be straightened out in the next couple of days. Bottom line my first week was a total disaster and would not count in my quest for four weeks filling in for Mac.

I did get groped in an erotic way, kissed till I was panting and then left on the bed totally unsatisfied. She waved to me from the bedroom door and mentioned that mistake nineteen through twenty-five should be corrected today, but no later than tomorrow. She blew me a kiss and disappeared. I had propped myself on one elbow, now I fell back on the bed and groaned. Apparently it was loud enough for Hilda to hear, since she came into the room with quite a smirk on her face. She laid out some clothes for today, but left the mess I had made last night for me to straighten out. It was also relayed to me that lunch would be in half an hour, no second chances if I didn’t make it in time. Another loud groan and I threw off the covers and slid out of bed. I could hear Hilda giggling from the hallway as she returned to the kitchen.

I nibbled on some fruit for lunch, my appetite seemingly disappearing after the realization that I would be in this role for quite some time. I returned to the bedroom and did the things that I had ignored last night. Just hanging my clothes and gathering my laundry took a couple of hours. Hilda did check on me pointing out a few details that I had overlooked. A few hours later a smiling Hilda gave approved of my efforts.

I consulted Mac’s list and tried to figure out how to correct some of my social errors last night. I figured that most of my mistakes were a result of my reluctance to engage her friends. Mac had supplied enough background on her friends that I could figure out where I could meet them casually again, this time making sure I engaged them in small talk about things feminine.

It is one thing to maybe figure out what I had done wrong, but quite another to try and straighten them out. I called several of her friends, arranged a time to meet, sometimes lunch or a dinner. A few were just a meeting for drinks and some conversation. Again a search through my wardrobe for the appropriate dress for each meeting. Mac had put an asterisk next to one lady. Telling me to start with her. I had met her once, she came across as a super confidant female, not above stating her opinion without admitting any guilt on her part.

I had arranged a late lunch with her at one of the better restaurants in town tomorrow. I worked on my appearance for over two hours before Hilda dropped me off at the restaurant. The lady was right behind me, and we were shown to our table quickly. After we ordered she started the conversation, telling me that she knew why I was having lunch with her. It was obvious yesterday that you were new to this female gender, maybe I can help you a little to hone your skills. She walked me through last might, telling me what I should have done with each lady. Unlike her none of the other ladies caught on to my real gender, just figuring I was from some hick area and had not earned my merit badge in female behavior.

It was a pleasant lunch, after she had told me what had to be done we talked at length about my predicament, the lady informing me that I might as well face the reality that I will be a member of the female gender for the rest of my life. Mac and her had broached the subject from time to time so it was not a spur of the moment idea of Macs. In case I was not aware of her skill, very few things that Mac had decided to pursue in life ended up other than what she wanted to begin with. The lunch lasted for almost two hours as we discussed everything and anything. When we finished I got a huge hug, while she invited me to her house later in the week for some gossip and another lunch. We left friends, something I never thought I would be able to achieve with a member of the female sex. Well other than Melody, who had made the overture to me in the first place.

I had called Hilda and she was waiting for me outside the restaurant, seeing the smile on my face she assumed that I had achieved my goal. I told her what had transpired and she giggled when I also told her that I most likely will not return to the male gender even if I succeed in winning the bet. I also told her I will deny any mention of that statement if word gets back to Mac. She ran her finger across her lips as if to zip them up and giggled for quite some time.

After we made it home I got a hug, her telling me it was for the best, you essentially sucked as a male to start with, although your skills as a father were much better. I pouted a little at her statement but ended up giggling with her at my reaction to her statement. I undressed and slipped on a robe and made a few plans for tomorrow’s meetings.

Hilda did give me a treat as she came and brushed my hair for me before bed. I could so get used to that, wonderful feelings and goose pimples combined. I thanked her for being so nice to me, and suggested that we spend an afternoon together just being friends later in the week, just the two of us. We hugged and I headed to bed after donning a gorgeous nightie that I had not seen before. I was soon drifting off, dreaming of pretty clothes and dancing. The rest of the lunches and dinners went off much better, I still was a little reserved but I think I had managed to mend most of the broken fences I had caused at the ball.

I did make sure I obtained a set of wedding rings for the next soiree, although I felt wonderful dancing the night away I was not fond of being pursued. The rings were my original set for Mac, before she obtained larger more impressive ones for daily wear. Although she still wore them occasionally, I had need of them now to keep the wolves at bay. Surprisingly they fit my ring finger perfectly, although I was sure I had larger fingers than Mac. Maybe more of Mac’s conniving somehow involved here.

I think I have turned the corner now, every morning I am up early planning out the day’s activities and looking for the right outfit to wear to do so. I am out shopping at least three days a week, with Hilda at my side. We now spend, at least, two afternoons together, no agenda, just two friends talking and enjoying each others company. Looking back I now realized how much I was missing in life, determined to not let any more of the good life slip by.

I heard from Mac, she letting me know that she will be back home tomorrow, after visiting all the children and spoiling all of the grand kids. I am sure the real reason was to check on my progress, a primary concern of hers. Maybe I can surprise her some, doing something she does not expect. Two can play at the game, making the game a lot more interesting.

I quickly called the salon asking if I could get an early appointment in the morning for the works. I was especially interested in getting longer nails, extensions for my hair and if possible a larger bust. I was assured all could be handled and was given a seven A.M. appointment. I made sure Hilda knew about the time, her smirk letting me know that she approved of my surprise for Mac. I did have a few second thoughts in bed that evening, but my hand on my breast and the good feelings that accompanied it pretty much erased any lingering doubt about what I had in mind by the next morning.

I was up early dressed and waiting for Hilda to get dressed. She saw me and smiled, grabbing my hand and giggling as we left the house. The salon was ready for me, several techs ready and waiting. I was hooked up to the boob machine again, the pump started right away encouraging more tissue into the cups. My old nails were removed, a longer set applied and then painted a bright cherry red. As they were getting ready to add in my hair extensions I asked them if they could use a lighter color, making my hair look like I had highlights. The answer was yes and several hours later my hair was down to my butt, curled and looking thick and beautiful. Another hour as my makeup was refreshed, then my eyebrows checked for stray hairs, I was pronounced done. I had asked for a higher pair of heels to wear home, feeling sure that would leave no doubt with Mac about my girliness. The almost six inch heels did that and more. Surprise, I had little trouble navigating in the taller heels, not sure why or how.

Hilda had been waiting for me, getting her hair shampooed and conditioned and her split ends handled. When she first saw me her eyebrows went up in amazement, then she started giggling. I signed for the services and we headed home. Mac had already arrived, and was waiting for me in the living room.

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes got as big as saucers as she took in my appearance. I could tell she was not missing any part of my enhanced appearance as her eyes scanned my body from my toes to the top of my head. I approached her, leaned in and took her face in my hands. I held it firmly as my lips touched hers. I pushed a little harder, making the kiss more passionate. I slipped my tongue in at the first opportunity savoring the experience. I tilted her head to the side a little as I slid my mouth over to her ears and nibbled a little on her earring. Well that did it as she orgasmed right there while standing up. I felt her get wobbly and grabbed her arms to help steady her. She leaned into to me, and soon we were in a tight embrace. I helped her to the couch and eased her down at one end against the armrest. We were sitting right next to each other, her head on my shoulder and her arms around my body.

It took her awhile, but she finally came around, grinning at me and taking another look at all of my changes. She started to ask a question but a firmly placed passionate kiss on her lips killed that off immediately. I asked if she was hungry, since I have reservations at a nice restaurant if she can make herself look beautiful enough to be seen with me. She gave me quite a stare, but decided she would give it a try. I was hauled off to the bedroom since she wanted me there so she could judge her efforts against her supposed goal for tonight.

I decided to change my clothes too, a sexier dress, chandelier earrings, and some of my hair pinned on top of my head, with some of the curls dangling around my face and neck. The dress barely covered my new breasts, the top half of my erstwhile orbs left uncovered and jiggling around in the cup of the corset I was wearing. Due to the corset I now had a smaller waist than Mac, making my bust and hips look much more impressive than normal. Mac had been watching closely at my choices, changing what she had planned to wear three times, I suppose in an effort to look as pretty as me. Finally as she donned her last choice, I helped her zip up the dress kissed her passionately and told her that she was beautiful, obviously a close second to my beauty but nothing to be ashamed of. I kissed her again before she could cut loose on me, then dragged her to the limo I had waiting for us. Hilda did get to see us before we slipped out the front door, giving me a thumbs up.

I hugged Mac tightly in the limo pushing her head against my breast to keep her mind occupied, otherwise the ride was in silence. The doorman got the limo door for us, and we were shown to our table immediately. I had already ordered for us, out first course delivered just a few minutes later. I sat right next to her, feeding her a bite or two as the evening progressed. She did reciprocate as we shared food, drink and lots of kisses. It was three hours later when the limo dropped us off back at our home, we made it as far as our bedroom, then dressed in nighties and crawled into bed. She was out of it, since she drank wine during the meal, a little too much judging by her actions. While I wanted to stay sober to enjoy being with her and making up for the time we had been apart. I finally fell asleep, while cuddling her in my arms, my head firmly attached to one of her nipples.

As I awoke the next morning she was propped up on her one arm looking at me with great interest. It was her turn today to initiate the kiss, a soft sensuous one that instantly gave me goose pimples. We laid in bed together for almost an hour, just savoring being with our soul mate. She decided to concede defeat, since I had obviously fulfilled her requests and then some. If I wanted to return to the male gender she was okay with it, but I could detect a little sadness in those words as she spoke them.

I told her it would require a large expenditure to do so, since someone had stolen all of my male clothes. Mac jumped out of bed then ran to the garage where she and Hilda had stored my boxed up male clothes to find the space now empty. She squealed and ran back to me tackling me and sending me to the floor, her body laying on top of me as she wiggled her sex into my groin and caressed my swollen nipples.

Hilda walked through wanting to know if we wanted lunch, then giggled and made her way to the kitchen. She never did get a reply to her question. She appeared later, telling us there was food in the fridge, if we wanted it and she would see us tomorrow around noon. I then remembered the next ball was tomorrow evening, Hilda planning to be here to help me get dressed for it.

We never did get any nourishment from the fridge, just lots of kissing and cuddling the rest of the day. A very romantic night, my new body seeing a lot of attention heaped on it. I tried to reciprocate, but Mac was a female on a mission, not to be denied or slowed down in its implementation. We did sleep late the next morning having just completed our baths as Hilda arrived. I did manage to lay out my clothes for today, Mac not missing the opportunity to check out my choices.

Mac did decide to accompany me to the ball, a fund raising affair for a children’s charity. We both looked ravishing, dressed to the hilt and freshly made up and coiffed at the salon prior to the drive to the charity ball. Another limo, since we had no idea how late we might be.

Mac did watch as I made my way through the crowd, talking and hugging my new female friends, exchanging compliments about our dresses and overall appearance. When she did join the group I was with she was ignored some, since she had been out of the loop for several weeks. I could see the look on her face, she did miss all of this, although she had insisted she was tired of it, needing a change in her life.

When several of the ladies were introduced at the end of the festivities for their contribution to the charity, Mac was surprised when she was called up front. I went with her, mainly for support. I had secretly made quite a sizable donation in her name, something to get her back into the swing of things. As she was thanked by quite a few of the prominent ladies of the event she was staring at me, here eyes trying to bore holes into me. I smiled and waved at her sending a kiss in her direction.

Then I heard my name called out. The name Macy called out twice before I realized they meant me. Apparently I was not the only one planning a surprise tonight. The charity made out like bandits Mac and my donations alone more than they had hoped to raise at the ball. As I approached the front I decided to make things a little more interesting grabbing her in my arms and kissing her hard on the lips. The kiss got a lot more passionate, lasting far longer than planned. When we finally broke the kiss we received a standing ovation from the ladies gathered around us. Mac was congratulated on my conversion to the female gender and I was complimented for a successful transition.

We did manage to find a quiet spot to sit a few minutes, holding each other’s hands tightly so that the other could not manage an escape. A few words were exchanged between us, but most of the time was spent just being content to be with our soul mate. I did tell her how much I loved her, thanking her for helping me to see that the female gender is a far better choice to live out my future in. To think it all started with me trying to maintain an image, an image I am pleased to see in the mirror every day now, a feminine image. Macy now in her element.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Patricia; Doing It For Love

Patricia; Doing It For Love

I was out with my wife shopping, an ordeal that I was not really comfortable with, but one that I thought necessary. My wife of five years is drop dead gorgeous, but dresses like a librarian sometimes. She has C cup breasts, a 38/28/38 figure and a face that belongs on the cover of fashion magazines. She was a cosmetologist for a while when we first married and knows how to make the most of what she has been born with. Now she is an executive secretary for a prominent lawyer in town.

With the name of Tiffany, she will always be the focus of my attention, the name just fits her to a tee. She is very confident of herself, a trait that was obvious when she applied for her present job. She runs the lawyer’s office where she works with ease, keeping everything scheduled and right on time. She has been on that job for seven months now and has received three pay raises in that time span. Mr. Lawrence, the lawyer, considers her invaluable and has her sit in on all of his client meetings and depositions.

If I could just get her to dress more sexy and daring when we are out I would be ecstatic. I am proud of her and her beauty, extremely lucky that she chose to be my wife. When I point out a sexy dress and ask if I can purchase it for her, she retreats into her librarian mode, ignoring my requests. I have booked her spa days at salons that are noted for making good looking females utterly gorgeous, but she comes back home pretty much with the same look.

I feel so lucky to have been able to marry her, but wish I could show her off a little, someone so beautiful that dresses more like plain Jane than a sexy female that she is. My wish to show her off, maybe more a desire to compensate for my lack of anything that a female might find appealing.

I am five foot nine inches tall, weigh one hundred thirty-five pounds, but from there it goes all downhill. I don’t have a male physique, my shoulders are narrow and the amount of facial hair below my eyebrows would not fill a thimble. The two hairs on my upper lip, a representation of the follicular development on my body. The two individual hairs is not a joke that is all the hair that resides where my beard should be.

My hair on my head is the exception, so thick that it requires constant thinning, an ash blond color, and reaching my shoulder blades. I keep it in a low ponytail all the time to minimize the times that I am referred to in the feminine gender. Yet only a few inches away from all of that hair my two sparsely populated eyebrows scream female. I have been asked by more than a female or two if I pluck my eyebrows, an embarrassing question that brings on the red cheeks and tears to my eyes. To be asked that question by a female kind of tells you what my eyebrows look like.

So yes, the desire to be able to show off my sexy wife, is an effort to over compensate for my lack of masculinity. I just wish she would bend a little to at least meet me half way. Lately I have been encouraging her a little harder to push the envelope, to use a recent expression, but the only concession she has made to me was to buy some sexy panties at Victoria’s Secret. She does wear them quite often, but no one sees them but me. I do appreciate them, all parts of my body standing tall when I get a glimpse as she slips them on in the morning.

We had just come out of a bookstore at the mall, leisurely strolling and window shopping as we went. We passed Taylor’s, a local boutique that handled fashions similar to Fredrick’s of Hollywood. I stopped and stared at the window. I knew better than to say anything, too many conversations in the past all ending up the same.

Tiffany comes up to the window to see what I am looking at. “Do you see something that you like, I would be glad to buy you something if you want it?” I turned quickly to see if she was joking, she has never offered anything like this before. I started to say something, but the words failed me. I didn’t want to start an argument again, but I would love to see her in any of the garments in the window.

She grabbed my hand and led me into the shop, walking up to a display of corsets like what was in the window. She looked through the pile picking out a couple of colors, then a couple of panties in the display next to the corsets. As she was picking out colors she would cast a glance at me, to see my expression. At least that was what I presumed she was doing. A sales associate came up to us asking if she could help us. In a normal voice Tiffany told the sales associate that I needed to be measured then I wanted to try on the proper size corset and panties in these colors.

I looked at her, my mouth open and a sudden shortness of breath threatening to make me faint. The sales associate was not bothered in the least by my wife asking for her husband to be measured for ladies undergarments. She smiled at me, then grabbed my hand and led me off to a changing room, while I looked back at Tiffany for some help. There was no help coming from her, although she smiled at me all the way to the changing room. I just plodded along, not willing by any means, but in a daze I soon found myself in the changing room.

The clerk had me remove my clothes except for my briefs, measured my chest, waist and hips. All the time I just stood there confused and lost, but a bright red color displayed from my hair on the top of my head to my groin. She left for a while, then came back with the appropriate sized items. I tried to get her attention but to no avail. I didn’t want to try on the corset, but before any words came out she had it around my waist and was hooking the busk in the front. I really tried hard to convey my jumbled thoughts to her, but she was on a mission. I was spun around and she started tightening the laces, with me still stuttering and trying to form a few coherent words. My mind had absolutely melted, the words did not make sense and for some reason most never made it out of my mouth. It almost felt like my mouth was full of cotton, dry and parched to the extreme.

I was still stunned, when she handed me the matching panties, and then pulled my briefs down my legs. I was facing away from her luckily, but was still highly embarrassed. I quickly tried to pull the panties up my legs trying to maintain some modesty, trying desperately not to trip over my briefs caught around my one ankle and a shoe.

The corset was making bending over very difficult, so I had a hard time getting my foot into the pantie. I kicked off my shoes, my briefs flying with them over to the corner of the room, allowing me to get the panties up my legs. But before I completed all of this Tiffany came through the dressing room door admiring my new underwear. The red on my face went up another notch, now I feared not having enough blood in my lower extremities to maintain an upright stance. I started to stagger a little, Tiffany grabbing an arm as she was examining my new underwear.

She started touching me all over, feeling the corset and the skin that it pushed up above the top of the corset. Then a hand rubbed over my panties, my erection rising to the ocassion, my face getting redder. I collapsed on the chair in the dressing room, tears starting to flow. Too much, half naked, dressed in a corset and panties, my wife admiring my feminine underwear, and groping everything she can get hold of.

She kissed me handing me a blouse to put on then a skirt that was way too short. She calmly picked up my clothes, including my briefs and left the room. I tried to follow her until I realized how I was dressed, then retreated to the safety of the changing room. I tried to call to her but either she was not able to hear me or was ignoring me. I looked at the clothes she handed me, not wanting to put them on, but my options seemed to be severally limited. Tiffany briefly stuck her head in the door, either wait here or get dressed in the skirt and blouse so you can browse the store. I am going next door to get you some shoes, don’t run off dear.

She was giggling as she headed out of the dressing room area, I was so confused. Was this because of me pushing her to try more provocative clothes, if so I am speechless from now on? I was getting chilly, the red from my embarrassment was not keeping my body warm. I pulled on the skirt, fastening the zipper and then swiveling it around till the zipper was in the back. Tiffany had done this quite often, it seemed to be the only way for me to get in the skirt without help from someone, help that I didn’t want to see me dressed this way. I put my arms into the blouse, then pulled them out again, the blouse buttoned up the back, damn Tiffany, I must have stepped way over the line about my wanting her to dress sexier, and this is obviously my punishment for doing so.

I got my arms in the blouse the top button done up and then had to wait for someone to do up the remaining buttons. I was shaking from fear, nothing like this has ever happened, I presumed I had pushed things too far, but was not sure that was the reason for me dressed as a sexy lady. When you are uncomfortable and scared time seems to crawl, I was thinking that Tiffany might leave me here in the store to make her point. My money was in my pants and they were God knows where by now. It seemed to be forever before I heard her voice back in the store. Finally my wife came into the dressing room holding a shoe bag with several pair of shoes in it.

Surely they are not both for me, now something else to worry about. I swear I will never say another word to her about anything that I might desire her to do, if I can just get home and out of these clothes. I was made to try on both pair of shoes, of course she liked the taller heels and they were buckled on to my feet. She did button up my blouse, now I was trapped in the blouse until she could undo it for me, presumably when we get home. I never did see my clothes, my wallet, or keys.

While I was getting used to the heels she paid for my purchases and led me down the mall to a beauty salon. My head swiveling wildly as I looked to see if anybody was staring at me. The sign said Turnabout Gurl, where a male can become a ravishing female. I tried to put on my brakes, definitely not where I want to go, no matter the reason. Surely she wouldn’t take me in there, maybe she was just scaring me some more, I am sure she could smell the extreme anxiety that I was exhibiting. My mind was fried, no rational thoughts possible and I doubt if any blood was circulating as red and hot as my face felt.

Have you tried to resist going somewhere in heels, I could barely walk in them much less try to maneuver in them. I had no traction whatsoever and soon I was set at a manicure table getting my nails done. Not just polish but extensions, long ones. I set there nervous as hell, my fear getting more desperate by the minute. I tried to plead with her, I begged, I promised her anything she wanted, but all I got was a big smile and no comment from her. So I gave in, my nerves were shot, my stomach was doing flip flops, I just knew I was permanently red from embarrassment since more than a few people heard me beg her for some mercy or forgiveness, or anything. The beautician was trying her best to keep from outright laughter listening to my pleas. By the time my manicure was dry the mall was closing up, probably the only thing saving me from more humiliation.

When we got back to the car, I briefly looked for my clothes in the back seat. Nothing, her purse was not big enough for them to fit inside, so in a wimpy little voice asked what happened to my clothes. “Since you are going to be wearing the provocative clothes now, you have no need for them so I threw them out. We will talk more when we get home, I suggest you prepare yourself for some difficult times ahead.” I kept quiet, now something else to try and figure out. I had no idea what she is talking about, but I doubted it was something I would embrace.

We got home and she got the car door for me, then held the front door as I entered. Her actions were not lost on me, she is treating me exactly like a female. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut the last few months, now I will be paying for those remarks forever. She had me sit in the living room on the couch, made me get up and sit down again after I had smoothed my skirt to make sure all the wrinkles were out. She got us some canned pop and came and set right across from me, mine a diet variety to help with my new figure.

“I have listened to you for months, about how I dress, that I could do more to please you. Tonight at the mall I had an epiphany, I can buy you the items you want me to wear and you can show me how easy it is, to be dressed as you want me to dress for you. By doing it this way I will be able to see the errors in my thinking and you will succeed in your wishes. So a simple way to settle things amicably, you being the more fashion conscious person of the group can teach me how it is done and relish in your ability to turn heads in your performance of these tasks at the same time.

Now I have made another appointment at the salon in the morning, for them to finish their conversion of you to the fairer sex. Since all of this is about wearing sexier, up to date fashionable clothes you have to have the perfect figure before you can show me the errors of my ways. Nothing to it, they will do all the work, you just have to let them mold you to your ideal of the perfect female. I know at times you suffer from temporary memory loss so I have already filled them in on what you desire, the same things that you have asked me to do for you. I think that is somewhat fitting don’t you.

I am locking your closets and dresser up, no male clothes at all. I am sure you wouldn’t want to slip back into old habits or fashions that are not current and sexy. I have also informed your Mother of your temporary gender change so she will be available if you suddenly need some advice on makeup or hair. You do not have to thank me, it is the least a loving spouse can do for their significant other.

I tried to process all that she had told me, another appointment to finish the job, telling my mother about all of this. Those were the two points that wedged in my mind preventing any further rational thought. It wasn’t haphazard, she had apparently been planning this for some time or she had ideas on what might show me the errors of my way, I simply provided the situation to get it all started.

In the chest of drawers is your new underwear, top drawer and in my closet are two outfits you can wear until we go shopping for you. Under your pillow is your negligee for tonight, so if you want to change now, let me help you get your buttons undone on the blouse. I stood there as she released me from the blouse, a most unsatisfactory feeling for a male. I did receive a kiss on the lips, something that I used to do to her after helping her with her clothes. Again something I recognized from times past. I have really stepped into it big time, I doubt there will be a satisfactory conclusion anytime soon, at least one that I might be able to live with.

While I was removing the feminine clothes, then slipping on the nightie I doubted I could feel more ashamed or embarrassed. The nightie made my body betray me, the shivers of delight as it slid down my body almost causing me to lose my balance in the heels. I tried to get the buckles undone on the heels but with my new nails that was totally impossible. Tiffany did help get them unbuckled but her rubbing of my smooth legs was not needed or desired. I shivered at the feelings as she ran her hand up and down on my calves. I brushed my teeth and brushed my hair, putting it back in a ponytail. I was half way to the bed when I realized I never even tried to get out of the corset.

Unfortunately Tiffany noticed this too, a huge smile appearing in her face. “I see you love your corset, we will make sure that we get you more tomorrow. The salon appointment will be finished by three, I will be there to see the new you, than we can go shopping to get your dream wardrobe. Don’t worry, I have set aside plenty of money to get you a complete wardrobe, nothing to be spared for my lover and wife. First thing in the morning we will pack up all your male clothes then after lunch I will get them to Goodwill, something you can be proud of, your old clothes helping some male to look his best.

As soon as I sat down on the bed I was leaned back and embraced, her tongue more than making itself known as to intent and purpose. Within seconds I lost all train of thought, the sensation of being kissed so erotically, overcame any thought that I might have been able to put together. I did manage to get my arms around her pulling her closer to me, the feeling as her pointy nipples came up against my chest just about sent me over the edge. As I got more excited I had to slow down, the corset restricting my air intake some, my mind had me wishing for more touching, but not able to handle what I was receiving now.

Things finally calmed down some, I found myself staring at the ceiling wondering how I ended up in this predicament. After mulling it over I realized I had done this to myself. Constantly reminding her of what I desired of her, she had just applied the same thing I desired of her to me. There problem solved, I will be the sexy more beautiful wife, and she can be who she wants to be. If only I had used a little restraint, I might have found myself other than restrained in a corset, decked out like a beautiful woman, scheduled to be made fully female tomorrow morning.

I guess I could put a stop to it now, put my foot down and stop all this silliness, but to what good would that do. She had side stepped my requests, if I stopped all of this I would never be able to bring up any requests of her again. If I went through with all of this I might be able to coerce her into some of my requests later, as she wouldn’t want to look less feminine than me. Yeah, what a pipe dream that is. A normal aggressive macho male I am not, in fact I doubted I was anything normal. I was still trying to put two reasonable thoughts together, so much to think about and the sensations affecting my body almost impossible to ignore.

Sleep that night was not fast coming or very long lasting. I was awake, then dozed off to be woken again by someone’s hands on my member. A few rubs and I was wide wake as she rolled over to go back to sleep. I indeed remembered doing that to her breasts many nights, now all of these paybacks were delivered in one huge package, one that I seemed to not have any choice in accepting. Staring at the ceiling I decided to reason with her in the morning, I would apologize, even beg if necessary to get this to stop. Then the fact that my male clothes would be hauled off tomorrow, re-entered my mind. I sure hope I can convince her that I am sorry.

It was after two in the morning before she quit reminding me of her presence. I did get some sleep, the dream I had very disturbing, but hard to remember much about it. I was in dresses in the dream that much I did recall. Tiffany was already up and dressed, applying her makeup in the bathroom. When she was done she came to the edge of the bed and threw back the sheets. I was hauled out of the bed and the negligee hoisted over my head. A sweat suit top was lowered over my head, my hair brushed into a ponytail and the matching pants were handed to me. I slipped them up my legs trying to apologize to Tiffany. She handed me her flip flops and started dragging me to the front door. I did my best to resist, but in the sandals I couldn’t get her to stop.

Out the door and towards her car. As we passed the back porch I saw boxes of my male clothes stacked waiting to be picked up. Tiffany can be a force to be reckoned with, I presume I have met my match, and she has accomplished what she wanted. I tried to apologize again, but she wasn’t even listening in my frantic mumblings.

She opened the passenger door, got me inside and the seat belt buckled then came around to the driver side. She leaned over and shut me up with her kiss, then backed out and headed to town. Back to the salon, this time I had no choice. She reminded me that she had my wallet, keys, and that I had no transportation since she had brought me to the salon. Do as they say or I will carry this further than you might want to go. She came around, opened my door as I was trying to get the seat belt unbuckled, leaned in and gave me the most erotic toe curling kiss I have ever experienced. In shock, I was helped out of the car and into the salon. One more kiss, this one more mundane and she was gone.

So much for my apologies this morning, Tiffany is having way too much fun at my expense to stop or even slow things down. The receptionist asked my name I told her Pat, she looked down her list of appointments, until she found Patricia. Come this way and I was led to a treatment room. Another one of their techs assisted me in removing my clothes, then laid me on a table. A cream was slathered over my front side, groin included. After thirty minutes it was wiped off along with all my hair. I never had much body hair to start with, now I was to have none. It was particularly noticeable around my male organ. Without his camouflage he looked shrunken and utterly pathetic. I was helped onto my stomach and the back side was handled the same way. It suddenly became drafty, the air from the overhead fan doing a job on my new sensitive skin.

Turned back over my feet were placed in stirrups, then they were spread wide apart. My male organ was tucked away, and then a silicone vulva was glued over it making my male sex now lost to me. How was I going to have sex with Tiffany, did she want this, was what I did so bad that this is my punishment? Essentially I had been castrated, my male organ now no longer able to function. Too many unanswered questions remained, Tiffany unavailable to fill me in on why. I was quiet for some time, way too much to think about, maybe a simple apology not enough for this situation anymore.

The day proceeded in the same manner. Each new treatment making me that much more feminine. After the fake vagina, my breasts were next, or to be more correct my lack of breasts was next to be handled. Two formidable sized cups were glued to my chest, hoses were attached and soon extra skin on my chest was being sucked into those cups. Some fatty tissue was introduced into the cups by a syringe, when the cups started heating up the fatty substance was absorbed into my body. I had a bad feeling about where it might end up at.

While the pump was doing its thing, my ears were pierced, my eyebrows eliminated or nearly so, and my fingers now sported longer nail extensions than the ones applied last night. These were glued on with an adhesive that bonded the nail to my own nail until they grew out. A bright coral red polish was applied after they were sealed with a base coat, then after the three layers of colored polish a clear topcoat made them shine ridiculously. Of course, my toes to match my fingers, thankfully no extensions there.

Once my breasts were nearing the appropriate size the pump was shut off, after nearly five hours of sucking. The hoses disconnected and I was moved to a stylist’s chair. There my hair was shampooed and conditioned then cut into a feminine style. Curlers were next, some liquid spayed on the hair before the curler was wound tight. The number of curlers was way more than I thought possible, followed by a stint under a hot hair dryer. The hairstyle turned out to be an ultra-feminine one, apparently I am only to receive treatments to make me over the top girly.

Some mild heat was applied to the breast cups, causing them to soften some and I was handed a very lacy bra. The color surprised me, a light green the lace trimming the bra a green and cream combo that looked so feminine. I had to have help to get it on, no way would my arms bend far enough to hook the back of the bra, then my long fingernails would be of no help if I did get my hands back there to start with.

The bra was comforting, cupping my new breasts and easing the strain on my shoulders. The breasts were heavier than I thought, once in the cups of the bra, the straps of the bra became taught. The forms would dissolve themselves after a few days leaving me with soft luscious breasts, not something I have ever wished for or wanted. Well I had hopes of Tiffany sporting some this size, now the opposite is true.

Since what I wanted didn’t seem to matter, the panties, lacy and very minimal, but not quite a thong were slid up my legs and a garter belt in a matching apple green was buckled behind me, the stockings, almost totally sheer were attached to the garters making the lingerie portion of my clothing complete. I did smile a little, the corset was apparently forgotten, something I was quite happy about. But alas, a new frillier one was brought out, again in a light green color, delicate and lacy, but after it was cinched up grabbing my mid-section like a vice. I was now back to struggling to get a breath to my lungs, only small gasps possible.

The clothes laid out for me made me step back. A short Ivory mini-skirt with an almost see through lace blouse to match. My lacy bra showing quite clearly through the lace. A pair of four inch pumps completed the outfit, making my legs look slender and dainty, but almost impossible to stand and walk in.

I was beat, Tiffany had won, now she had systemically turned everything I had suggested to her over the years against me. I was now the epitome of my desires for her. Everything I had wanted for her I now possessed, no sign of anything masculine left in my image. Ginny, my stylist was making some adjustments to my makeup as Tiffany entered the salon, some seven hours after she had dropped me off. She walked right up to me, took me in her arms and kissed me hard. The kiss lasted much longer than any previous kiss between us, I am not sure why. I am not complaining though.

Ginny handed me a compact and the lipstick suggesting that I fix my lips. Tiffany paid at the front returning to lead me away. I was taken to her car, and helped in. She drove us to a restaurant that we quite often dined at, her friend Melissa the hostess there. I was going to beg to not be displayed this way, but realized my chances of her relenting were nil, so I meekly followed Tiffany into the restaurant. I had forgotten Melissa worked there until I saw her behind the small check in desk. They greeted each other, exchanging hugs, with Melissa giving me a careful appraisal. She showed us to a table, out of the main stream, for that I was thankful. She pulled my chair for me, grinning from ear to ear. No comments were made, she had other guests appear so she made her way back to handle them. Meanwhile, I was beet red from embarrassment.

Tiffany ordered for me, for which I was appreciative. I am not sure how feminine my voice sounded, definitely not wanting any more attention shed on me. The day’s activities with the corset cinched so tight had pretty much diminished my appetite, now I was just moving my food around on my plate, something Tiffany often did when we ate out. Tiffany’s eyes often focused on me, I was not sure whether she liked me this way, or was relishing her new control over me. We eventually finished our meals, well she did, I still had half of mine on my plate. She paid the check, getting what I didn’t eat in a takeout container.

I was led to the car, as she got my door for me, then helped buckle my seat belt while administering a searing kiss as she finished. It felt kind of nice to be cared for, a feeling I have never experienced before. Even as a child my parents, didn’t do anything other than the basics. Food, clothes and a roof over my head, were all furnished but the emotional caring never materialized. I guessed they loved me in some way, but it was never shown in any physical way. No hugs, kisses, not even a pat on the head when I excelled in school.

Tiffany’s actions toward me since I was feminized really affected me deep inside. A warm gooey feeling that spread to all parts of my body. She pulled into the garage, turned off the car and leaned over to hug me. She managed to get my seat belt undone, dragging me closer to her. Her arms around me holding me tight and her lips leaving little kisses all over my face. It felt so good, I could sit with her all night like this. She released me, walked around to get my door, then grabbed one of my wrists to help me out of the car. I don’t know why I just sat there waiting for her to come around and get my door. I usually just get out on my own, never needing help before. Maybe it is the breasts that I now have on my body, can something that is sucked from my body affect my thinking so much that I just revert to the feminine choices by default?

Who knows? I was led inside and right to our bedroom. We have a love seat at one end of the bedroom in an alcove with windows looking out into our back yard. I was seated there and told to relax. She headed off to the kitchen, in pursuit of something. A short time later she returned with two glasses of iced tea. She set them on the coffee table in front of the love seat and sat right next to me. She took one of my hands holding it with both of hers.

“I did this originally to try and get you to see what your requests of me meant in my life. I knew you never considered how I might feel decked out like you wanted me to look act and dress. It was an effort to get you to see that your wishes when applied to someone you love take on different meanings. The larger breasts the main concern. Yes it would add to my looks, making me sexier, but also bringing unwanted attention to me when you are not around.”

“A female with prominent breasts gets a lot of looks, sometimes even a grope or two, especially if her husband or boyfriend is not around. Some females desire that kind of attention, but to me it is degrading. I am fairly intelligent, and can handle business affairs with ease. Dressing provocatively makes everyone think that I have no business skills, just tits and ass to entertain some male fantasy. After we left the salon you were ogled several times. Nobody thought you looked intelligent or capable, just that you had a great set of hooters, and would probably make a good lay.”

“Now that you are decked out as you wanted me to be, do you still think it is such a wise idea. Let’s try your way for a month or two, maybe you are right only time will tell. Since I have you dressed so provocatively I do like you better this way, maybe we can make this a permanent arrangement, I will earn the big bucks and you can be the sexy wife and lover. Just thinking about this makes me wet, I will make a point to be home early knowing that my sexy lover is waiting for me. I will need to buy a special little toy for my beloved, maybe you can go with me to pick it out. I definitely do not want to get the wrong size.”

Well that caused me to go instant red, but surprisingly my feeble mind did see some interesting possibilities in that idea. Oh gawd, will I be able to live like this, my little man twitching below my new female sex was trying his best to communicate his approval of all of this. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, dressed to the nines every day and doing it for love.

Speaking of love, Tiffany was really getting into the idea of me being the female that I had wanted for her. That love surfaced quickly in shopping for clothes, the same clothes that I wanted to get for her before all of this got started. I quickly found out she has an excellent memory, every request I had brought up to her had been memorized and cataloged along with the exact store that offered it for sale. Over the next few days, my wardrobe expanded exponentially as all the items were purchased in my size and in the most feminine colors imaginable.

While at the salon again for some needed touch up Tiffany and some helpers moved the boxes of clothes to her car. When she came to pick me up she had made a stop, my male clothes now dropped off to Goodwill. She showed me the donation slip, the items would be sold to provide employment for the disadvantaged and I now had a tax deduction for this year’s income tax. Yeah at a time like this, who in the hell is concerned about taxes.

I did the best that I could to keep her satisfied, dressing in the clothes she had bought me and being the sexy wife for her. I would work all afternoon on making a dinner for her that she might appreciate, then after cleaning up spent most of the evening trying to please her in bed.

I quickly assumed all the household chores, the least I can do for my lover. It took me a few days to get the hang of it, several mistakes made that I learned from. Putting light and dark clothes together in the washing machine one of my first lessons. The resulting pink garments not necessarily what one might wear. I burned several food dishes I was trying to prepare, but eventually I was able to put a nice dinner on the table that she eagerly consumed. The fact that she did not have to shop for the ingredients or cook it that much better.

Tonight when she got home she had three more bags of clothes for me, I tried to hide my smile, wondering what she got me this time. Maybe being the wife and lover won’t be that bad, so far the clothes are scrumptious and so sexy. I did learn my lesson, a couple of weeks out and about as Patricia proved that all she had mentioned as reasons she did not want to experience my desires were driven home dramatically. An example would be grocery shopping. On a weekend I dreaded it with a passion, since a lot of males used that time to shop. I was ogled, stared at and made quite uncomfortable by the attention my larger than average breasts brought to me. Her point proven in spades.

I did enjoy taking care of her, it was satisfying and made me feel wanted and loved. I knew I never did express my thanks for all she did for me enough, once in her shoes I realized my shortcomings. Doing it for love became my mantra, I so loved her and tried to show it in my actions every day.

We did try it for the full month, then another living room talk. Tiffany started the discussion while I just set there trying to put some words to my thoughts. Well Patricia you have succeeded in proving me wrong. You handled yourself well considering that I pretty much just dropped you in this without any forewarning or notice. Even though you have suffered a little at the attention from the males you have handled it easily and without making a big deal out of it. You have learned from your mistakes and made a wonderful wife for your loving spouse. I admit defeat, I will do quite a few of the things you have desired of me, maybe not everything but I can see where some of the things would enhance your enjoyment of my appearance.

Now we come to you, I know I have been unfair to you, pushing a lot of things on you that were not really necessary to prove my point. My problem is that I now desire you all frilly and feminine, being able to come home to you and share my work day with you. Having a nice meal waiting and knowing that I can have my way with you afterward is pure heaven. I have always enjoyed my job, but now I watch the clock, waiting for quitting time so that I can head home, spending time with you now the most important part of my day. I hope you will consider staying as Patricia for me, I love you so much, often I spend the afternoon dreaming of you and what I can do to you when I get home.

I sat there looking into her eyes. All I see is the female I fell in love with, whether I am dressed as a male or female makes no difference to me. I love the clothes, the pampering and being able to show my love to my spouse every day whether it is in how I look, or the meal I prepare, or the house I keep clean and comfy for her.

I swallowed hard, yes Patricia is here to stay, she is doing it for love, a love that will last forever. We kissed, a deep meaningful kiss that seemed to go on and on.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

My head hurt, my eyes felt they were hanging out in the air and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I blinked several times, the ...