Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

Jenny; A Sissy For Kayla

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Nadia; Disguised, Abducted, Married

Nadia; Disguised, Abducted, Married

I have been working for one of the alphabet agencies for just short of six years, one of the myriad different federal agencies belonging to that group. We dealt mainly with situations here in the U.S. but ones that had more unusual circumstances, leaving the FBI to handle most of the rest. A simple bank robbery would fall under the FBI, but if the robbery was through the internet or involved people that worked for the bank we would get called in.

Our agency director made the decisions on what cases we would get involved in after looking at the basic facts. Her name was Sheila Townsend, very smart and very attractive. She managed with an iron hand, never taking crap from any agents or other agencies. Since the agency was very successful under her direction she was hardly questioned or challenged.

I was originally hired for the field, but have been pencil pushing for ninety percent of the time with them. I was always good with computers, not fixing them but using them to gather information. Once that was found out, that became my main job from then on. I worked out of the Phoenix office, living in one of the satellite towns nestled around Phoenix.

I resided in my parents’ home, given to me when they up and moved out of the country. For some reason they became infatuated with New Zealand, vacationed there once and moved there to live a year later. They managed to buy a ranch down there, raising some sheep and living off the profits.

I was now twenty-six years of age, still single and quite content to say that way. I loved females, just didn’t communicate with them at all. In a workplace situation that was a different story, but once away from work I was instantly tongue tied and reclusive. I guess if I admitted the truth I was scared to death of them. At work we had our work to distract us, but once that was gone I closed myself off tighter than a clam.

I was somewhat handsome, long hair, five foot eight inches tall and a hundred and forty pounds in weight. I would not consider myself macho, probably exactly the opposite. I never participated in sports, could cook a decent meal, loved to read anything and everything, had a garden to raise my own vegetables, but definitely not your typical macho male.

We received regular visits from Ms. Townsend at least once a month. She interacted with everyone, knew our names and what we were working on presently. The last trip she had me come into her office and bring her up to date on a case I had been working on for three months. It involved some vague threats to the sister of the President. The FBI had briefly handled the case, came to the conclusion that it was a hoax and dropped the case. Sheila thought differently and grabbed the case. Myself and several other agents were assigned to the case to get as much information as we could about the threats, the sister and any relatives that might be involved. The secret service kept track of our efforts, but at the moment that was all they were doing.

I had been the most successful of the agents working on the case, tracing back the email threats through several out of the country hubs to a political group located in the southern US. No names yet on who might be involved, but there was also a possibility that the political group was being used so that if discovered they would take all the blame, leaving the ones making the threats free and clear. A week later I found the computer the email came from, another agent checked it out, without raising suspicion, finding out that it was in an unlocked office, anyone could sneak in and use it then disappear. The agent did exactly that, the organization not even realizing their computer had been used for nefarious reasons.

As soon as I reported that info I was called to Washington, to meet with Ms. Townsend. I thought it rather unusual since what I found out was really not that important in the scope of things. I was on the next flight, not even having time to go home and pack anything for the trip. To my surprise Ms. Townsend met the flight herself, driving me to her residence instead of the office. I was shown in, and she got me a soft drink from her office refrigerator.

“I am familiar with the group that has on occasion used another group to hide their activities. In fact they have used this same political group several times, but no connections could be made hence no action was taken on either the political group or the group using them. An assault on the President’s sister would give them quite a bit of clout, and help make them a more serious threat to society. Their supposed leader has been trying to do this for years, this may be his best attempt yet.”

“A few in our office here have studied the President’s sister, looking for someone to impersonate her, thus maybe setting a trap to catch the group red handed. We have run a number of photos through the computer looking for possible matches, and guess who has showed up on several search results. That is the reason you are here, unofficially of course at the moment. Your office back home will be notified of you accepting a job overseas to help Interpol, thus explaining your continued absence.”

“A salon in town will do the transformation later today, and if it turns out as expected you will replace the sister in her home during the night. Her name is Nadia, the President and her are quite close, always have been. Her husband has been informed and is okay with the switch.

The real Nadia will stay in the White House for a few weeks, out of sight until we see if they will try anything. Your new husband will fill you in on what she does, and her normal routine during the day. Nadia does work part-time, a job that I think you will no doubt enjoy. Do you have any questions, if not I will ferry you to the salon for your transformation?”

It seems I had a million questions but none that left my mouth. She took me to a salon, we entered through a back door and was immediately taken to a private room. I got a hug and Sheila left me there, in a strange city, and about to be converted to a member of the female gender.

I swallowed hard, this is what I signed up for many years ago, but I didn’t think my first job undercover would be as a female. Two technicians entered, then had me sign a bunch of forms, then scanned my image into their computer. Another female’s picture came up on the screen, right next to mine. I presume it was the President’s sister. I could see some resemblance, but if they could make me look like her they would indeed earn their keep.

They went right to work, within an hour I was hairless, and had realistic breasts glued to my chest. I might add very realistic breasts, after they covered the seams there was no way to tell that they weren’t mine. While I was concerned with getting breasts, my penis was tucked away, a perfect vagina having replaced it making me for all intents a complete female. I was told it was fully functional, I immediately thought of my new husband, surely he would not expect me to have sex with him. Then they mentioned my breasts were state of the art technology, fusing with my skin allowing touch and feel just like a real breast.

The one gal worked on my hair placing it in a myriad of curlers, spraying each lock of hair with a liquid before winding it on the curler. I received a female haircut before she got to the curlers so my role as a woman is assured for a while. The other tech did my nails, both toes and hands. Incidentally, it was a bright red polish that I ended up with, no one will miss seeing my new nails, especially the longer nails on my hands that I now sported. Then as my hair was drying, I received a full makeup job, using semi-permanent products so I would not have to do it myself every day. The makeup seemed heavier than a female usually uses, the eyes and the lips particularly emphasized. I wonder if this had to do with her part-time job.

After my hair was dry, she removed the curlers, using a comb to urge the hair into the new style. The liquid she used was a long lasting setting gel so that I had now a female hairstyle for quite some time. If the operation ended quickly, I was stuck as a female or I would have to get all my hair cut-off. That and the makeup assured my presentation as a woman for quite some time. No time frame was mentioned, but I doubted it would be less than six months from part of the conversation I had been privy to as they worked their magic on me.

The finished product was almost identical to the sister’s picture, my new husband picking me up with a huge grin on his face. The kiss from him sent me into panic, it was on the lips with a little tongue. He could tell the impact he was having on me, he calmly took my hand and dragged me out of the salon, after paying my bill. I had been given some lingerie and a dress to wear, apparently some of her things. They felt funny, but otherwise fit me perfectly. Prior to today, I had never worn any items of female clothing, they were sensual but would definitely take some getting used to.

I was helped into the car, he even helped me with my seat belt. I was quiet, a few hours ago I was told of what I was going to be doing, but being told and having it happen to me is two different things. We apparently lived in a nice suburban home right over the state line in Virginia. Once home, he got the car door for me and led me inside. We ended up in the master bedroom, he showed me where my clothes were suggesting a nightie that I might wear to bed tonight. Of course, it was brief and almost see through, but it did look good on me.

I used the bathroom, then to my surprise he entered a few minutes later and whispered to me that they found out the house was being watched, and saw evidence of specialty microphones capable of hearing through windows. The bathroom and the basement were the only safe places to talk. We would have to act as a married couple, to keep from giving the game away. He did have a little smirk on his face when he said that. The watchers were in a house a little higher up the hill, with a full view of our house, making it very hard to not be spied upon.

He leaned in for another kiss, then led me to the bedroom. He whispered in my ear that I usually slept on the right side, and liked to be spooned from him after we had intercourse. He kissed my nose, telling me that he will be good, otherwise his real wife might end up seeing to his timely demise. I giggled at that, both of us in a close embrace as we whispered in each other’s ear. He was good, but it is hard to get to sleep with another person’s penis erect and trying to bore a hole in your back. A female agent might not have as much trouble with that, but since I was a male until recently it was something that occupied a good portion of my mental capacity. I did manage to drift off, but his penis definitely had a mind of its own, wanting something to slip inside of and be comfy.

When I woke later in the night to use the bathroom, I had to slip out of his grasp, his one hand had caught and held my right breast and he definitely did not want to let go. His penis was still active, just not as rock hard as before. I performed my deed and then crawled back into bed. Immediately I was pulled back into a hug, his penis now very hard and attempting to spear me. I did manage to get back to sleep eventually, my body sending all of these new feelings and sensations to my mind definitely not helping any.

As I was lying there the next morning I tried to put some perspective on all that happened in the last day or two. Here I was a somewhat normal male, transformed into a female that was married with a husband that did have a lot of difficulty keeping his sex organ under control. All in the name of checking to see if there was indeed a threat against the President’s sister.

The next morning I received a sensual kiss, abruptly bringing me to full awareness. As he pulled back from the kiss he had this huge smile plastered on his face. I was dragged from the bed into the bathroom and my nightie was slid off my body. He had turned the shower on, I presume to warm up the water. After checking to see if it was right I was pulled in after him, as he proceeded to wash my body with a sponge and fragrant soap.

Then I had to wash him, his erection the hardest to handle. When I ran the sponge over it the first time it instantly swelled up more, as I tried to back away from him. I tried to move the sponge over his penis lightly, not wanting it to get any bigger or harder. No such luck, now it was bobbing up and down striving to get additional stimulation and lunging toward me.

I desperately tried to concentrate on my task, but having more than a little trouble remembering what exactly it was. Once I managed to escape the shower I almost ran to her closet to try and find something to wear. Being naked with an overactive penis in the room trying to make points with me does kind of speed things up. I found a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to wear, but hubby nixed that asking me if I forgot I had to work today.

He handed me a dress that looked like it would fit extremely tight in the bust, but flared out into a full skirt. The pair of panties and a push up bra did come first though. I stared at him trying to use my secret power to melt him right where he stands. It may be a secret power, but very ineffective. He did help me on with the bra, then dragged me to the bathroom.

“You are a bra fitter in an upscale woman’s shop in our little suburb of Washington DC. It is necessary for you to look professional, especially your upper torso. I drop you off at work, then pick you up later this afternoon. Jamie is the shop owner and she will inform you of the proper procedure for fitting a bra on a female. I am sure you will enjoy your work, the real Nadia always had fun at her job. Now finish dressing we will grab a bite to eat as we head into town. With that I was kissed passionately, now standing there with my mouth partially open and trying to get more air into my lungs. Hubby returned and swatted my butt to get me moving, the size of his smile showing how enjoyable he was finding all of this.

I sat in the car as I was driven to work wondering how I was going to handle fitting bras on females all day. Nadia may not have had trouble but she was equipped differently than I was. I know my real gender did not show, but junior was still there and at times I could feel him trying to expand and exert his presence. Luckily for me he was secured out of the way, but when he got frisky I did feel very uncomfortable till he decided to cooperate and pretend to be female. It wasn’t pain, but a disturbing feeling down there that seemed to get worse until the situation eventually resolved itself.

After a few occasions of his petulance I noticed a drippage that was oozing out of my vagina. Not something I could do anything about though. I had slipped another pair of panties in my purse, just in case I felt the need to change them due to the leaking. At my new job I wondered how often I would be put to the test, maybe I can close my eyes when helping them find the proper bra for their figure.

At work I was introduced to Jamie, but any details other than I looked like the real Nadia were left undisclosed. Jamie was nice and did show me the proper way to measure and fit a bra by using me as an example. For a male it feels weird for a female to hold your breasts, lifting them and positioning them in the new proper size bra. The fact that I could feel every touch and that my nipples had gotten rock hard made it infinitely more difficult.

Then it came time for me to do it to another customer, I was nervous, almost shaking from my nerves being totally shot. I managed but how it was accomplished no one will ever know, because I don’t remember a thing that I did. By quitting time I was performing my job adequately, although I was at times quite uncomfortable. Having a handful of breast at times for a male is unnerving.

There are quite a few well-endowed females in the D.C. area, most of them apparently customers of Jamie. I have no idea how I made it through the day, closing my eyes just allowed my mind to go over all the images of breasts that had accumulated there.

When my husband picked me up and greeted me with a kiss, I leaned into it. I needed the reassurance that somehow things will be alright. I was happy to see him, someone to take me away from living in this fantasy world of breasts. He gave me quite a smile, just asking if I enjoyed my work today. I swallowed hard, then let him lead me to the car and eventually home. Not a word spoken, for one thing my mind was still buried in visions of breasts, for another I was dreading the time alone with my husband once we got to our home. I hoped it would not go farther than last night, but was also aware how it could easily escalate.

We stopped and picked up some takeout on the way home saving me from having to prepare a meal for us. Unfamiliar with what was available to use to prepare a meal at the house, probably a wise decision on his part. He did allow me some time for myself as he went to the living room to listen to the evening news after eating. I cleaned the few dishes we used to eat on and straightened the kitchen. Mainly to keep my mind occupied.

I was standing looking out the kitchen window when he walked up behind me. He put his arms around me, whispering in my ear to just relax and enjoy the feelings. I was held for quite some time in his embrace, now obviously enjoying being held by him. There were nibbles to my neck, the goose pimples threatening to cause an emotional meltdown. I think he sensed that and grabbed my hand leading me off to the bedroom.

He undid the zipper on my dress, as he started the shower for me. I was actually allowed to shower by myself, very thankful for not having to wash his overactive penis again. I found a robe on the back of the bathroom door to put on, and went to search for a nightie. In my dresser I found a drawer full of them, every single one far from conservative, all sexy and extremely brief. I looked through them all trying to find one that actually covered up some of my female figure. The one I chose had a full cut panty, but left the breasts almost hanging out of the front of the top. The thought of my husband’s penis made me chose this one, something, at least, to cover my exposed vagina.

As I walked over to the bed my temporary husband had the biggest smile on his face, causing an explosion of red on my face. I was hugged and cuddled very tightly all night, having to plead with him to allow me to use the bathroom during the night. Smiles always greeted me as I returned to bed, and then was quickly engulfed in his embrace once again. Each day I was getting more comfortable being around him. That fact not necessarily good for me. Day to day nothing much changed until about a week later.

Hubby was delayed in picking me up, some kind of car trouble and I was sitting at a nearby cafe in their outdoor dining area. It was partially secluded and pretty much isolated. Another lady entered the area and approached me. She walked by me, then I felt a cloth being held over my nose. When I woke later I was in a room and bound to a chair with a gag inserted in my mouth.

So much for my training to be observant of my surroundings, now in the hands of my captors and no telling where. I tried to look around at my surroundings, no windows in the room and the door had a no key lock, requiring a code to be entered to unlock it. My arms and legs had multiple heavy duty zipties binding then to the chair and were quite secure.

I couldn’t hear anything, finally figuring out I had ear plugs inserted cutting off any noises from the outside world. I felt so hopeless and vulnerable. Now disguised as a female, I could be subject to all kinds of things a female has to possibly deal with, something really terrifying for a former male. I was never released from my bindings for long, my food being inserted with a syringe through a hole in my gag. I found out later that I had been fitted with a diaper, so that handled most of my bathroom needs. A young lady, accompanied by two very intimidating males released me from the chair for a few minutes while she changed my diaper, then I was retied again this time minus any clothes that I had on previously. Now naked except for the diaper, not a very comforting position to find myself in.

It had been at least a day or two since my abduction, since I did not have any sense of time passing I was not sure. No clocks in the room and with no windows I could not tell by the light or darkness of day and night. I know my diaper had been changed five times, if that is any indication of the amount of time that had passed.

I was beginning to lose hope I would be rescued, since nothing had changed in the interim. Then that evening I was trussed up to a stand that had been brought into the room. The diaper had been removed leaving me totally naked, my hands tied to the top of the stand and my feet tied to the legs of the stand. That left them about two feet apart, my female sex quite exposed and vulnerable. The lady returned wearing a mask, as she always does, so she could not be identified carrying several things in her hands. My nipples were played with, making them stand erect and pointy. She attached a clamp to each then tightened them till they were hurting me. I tried to stay silent, but the pain got to me and I screamed. Next she slid a dildo out of her bag of goodies and pushed it up against my vagina. Rubbing it up and down over my tender lips, almost inserting it then withdrawing. She kept this up for quite a while then pushed hard and the dildo disappeared into my vagina. Unfortunately the dildo was rubbing against my buried penis making me climax right there while tied up.

It took me quite a while to regain some semblance of thought, then looking at the door behind the girl I noticed that I had been filmed being defiled. The girl approached me once again intending to do it again, while I twisted and turned trying to evade her intentions. This time she toyed with me longer, than as she inserted the dildo again she grabbed one of the clamps attached to my nipple and tugged hard. This time I passed out, the feelings so intense I couldn’t stand it. When I did come to, I was still hanging from the stand, my legs not able to support me any longer. The clamps were still firmly attached to my nipples, the pain now dull but still throbbing.

I hung there for quite some time, now having to pee, since I couldn’t get anybody's attention to let me down. Even for a disguised male it is very embarrassing to not be able to control their bladder. I ended up peeing, the liquid running down my leg to the floor. I shed quite a few tears, all of this just too much for me to deal with.

I thought I heard some noises in the other room, but was not sure. The ear plugs making hearing anything very difficult if not impossible. I tried to call out for help, the wrist restraints were beginning to cut off my circulation in my arms, The partial gag allowed some noises from me but nothing discernible.

About ten minutes later the door opened and my hubby was standing there all smiles. He quickly released me, then carried me out of the house. I was placed in the back of an ambulance as two E.R. personnel checked me out. When the clamps were released from my nipples I took in a huge breath and screamed bloody murder.

The one gal helping me rubbed some cream onto my abused nipples helping the pain subside some. Hubby was standing just outside the back door of the ambulance and tried to enter to save me. Once he saw what had happened he relented but stayed near to the door.

I was pronounced basically healthy a little while later, hubby not wasting any time in removing me from their clutches. Placed in his car I was whisked away. He held my one hand as he drove, squeezing it often to let me know he was there for me. I was awake but so out of it I had no idea where we were going. As he pulled into our garage I let out another sigh, so glad to be home and maybe done with this ordeal. I was carried into the house and taken right to the bedroom, laid on the bed, then covered with a blanket. He laid next to me, on top of the covers holding me close to him. I drifted off to sleep, now safe and with my love.

I don’t remember anything dream wise, the few times I rolled over and opened my eyes he was there with a smile on his face. I remember thinking that I love him, than reality set in, I am just an impostor, and he is already happily married.

When my eyes next opened, it was daylight, the sun streaming through the window, the warmth of the rays feeling good on my exposed arms and face. I rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty, a pathetic moan escaping my mouth. A minute later he appeared with a tray of breakfast for me, setting it on the bed next to me and hand feeding me. Once I was full he removed the tray and came to sit next to me again.

“We need to talk about some things. Unbeknownst to you the operation was a little more complicated than you knew about.” I started to say something but he shushed me, telling me my time to ask questions will come later. “Incidentally we got the kidnappers red handed, six of them in the gang, with two of them shot in the gunfight when we raided the house you were being kept in. All of the remaining gang members have been jailed, with no bail allowed.”

“When you were first assigned to the case, I saw you several times in the video of your training. So since I was head of the operation I inserted myself in the operation as your husband. Just something about you made me take notice. We were pretty sure that the kidnappers were not that concerned about Nadia’s husband, since we found no reference or interest in him when we started noticing their interest in Nadia.

I expect they saw a way to assert some control over the President, holding you and threatening you with rape and bodily harm. They did send messages to the President showing you trussed up and being subjected to some unnatural acts. This was right before we planned to raid the house you were being held in.”

“Back to us, I loved holding you or seeing you naked. The time when we showered together was so much fun, your facial expression so comical, especially when you had to wash my penis.”

“When we showed up at the restaurant and you were not there, I was devastated. Luckily you had a tracking chip inserted in you at the salon, so we had a way to locate you. It took us a couple of days to locate you and exactly what house you were being kept in. We watched for a day or two, then made our move. The surveillance showed us they were six members of the gang, five males and one female. I shot two of the gang members, one of them trying to pull a gun on me, the other heading to where you were being kept his gun in his hand. The others surrendered quickly, the other members of the squad removing them from the house quickly.”

“I went to the room you were being held in, once the door was open I took in a deep breath, then cut you down from the stand you were tied to. I was crying as I did so, so concerned for your safety. I carried you outside, insisting that you be looked at immediately. When the ER tech removed your nipple clamps causing you to scream, I was going to hurt her until I saw what she was doing. Then when she removed the dildo from your vagina I took in a deep breath. Once she was finished with you I quickly removed you, wanting you with me and at home.

Let’s face it I am in love with you not wanting to share you with anyone. I know of your background and I flatly don’t care. I love the you I see in my eyes and the you I can hold tight and cuddle. Keep in mind that as soon as things return to some type of normalcy I will ask you to marry me. I expect a yes in return, then I am planning a quick trip to Vegas to make sure you don’t have a chance to change your mind.”

He pulled me closer, then put his arms around me as he leaned in and gave me a sensuous kiss. I returned the kiss, with us exploring each other’s mouth with our tongues. I laid my head on his shoulder, repeating over and over the word yes. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of being held by the one I love, anxious to spend the rest of my life in his loving embrace. Someone I can love and take care of for the rest of my life. The day I was told I had to disguise myself as a female, what a wonderful day, a day to be eternally thankful for.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Lee; Life In A Female Led Society

Lee; Life In A Female Led Society

My first interview out of college and I was nervous for several reasons. There had been a lot of changes recently in the business world, affecting their employees and how they were perceived. The changes were not limited to the business world, but were more apparent there then in the general population.

The business I was interviewing with was one of those companies supporting the changes, while already embracing them within their own company. A lot of the changes were immediately challenged in court, but a court involved resolution was probably years off. If the company was interested in me, those changes would affect me immediately and for as long as I was employed there.

I was with the head of their human resource department for over two hours, every thing about me and my education talked about at one time or the other. My family life, college friends, interests outside of college and many more topics were examined in detail. With regards to my college friends they wanted phone numbers or addresses to check the validity of my statements. I had mentioned my interest in volunteer work, then had to furnish where I had done the volunteering and who my supervisor there was.

By the end of the interview I was sweaty and mentally drained. I was told they would get in touch with me the following morning and if I was deemed acceptable I would need to come back in before lunch to fill out my paperwork. Beside being mentally drained I was in a daze, not sure if I would be accepted and not sure if I really wanted to work for them as they seemed to be quite demanding and strict.

Like most other college graduates, we were faced with a small number of companies that were hiring, and even less that were thought to be reputable and able to survive in this chaotic world. Of four possible companies to work for I had only received one offer of an interview. The other three let it be known they were not hiring in the foreseeable future. Another indication of a troubled economy. If I left my career choice the prospects of anything resembling employment were nil, most businesses were either laying off people or in a hiring freeze till things turn around if they do, a big if in these troubled times.

Looking back most would have seen the evolution of what we have experienced as impossible. It was several years ago when an election in one of the western states signaled a change in the air. An upstart female running against an incumbent senator started to gain some national attention. He was the typical politician, promise anything to get elected and then deliver nothing. She was a state legislator representing a district that encompassed the state’s biggest city. Her record stood for itself introducing over a hundred and fifty bills during her two year term as a state senator. Very few got passed, but her direct appeal to the state’s voters about her fellow legislators did make all kinds of news. She called them out, for backing their special interest supporters and ignoring what their constituents wanted. There were several other female legislators that joined her in her effort, but the good ole boys were in control at the time and they knew it.

She decided to take it national, getting signatures so she could run for the U.S. senate. Her critics underestimated her, dismissed her as irrational and obviously a female, one that needed to be ignored. When she brought her signed petitions to the Secretary of State to be registered as a candidate there were several raised eyebrows. She only needed fifty thousand signatures to qualify, but she presented petitions with over a hundred and twenty thousand signatures to the Secretary of State. There was no press coverage, at the time, most everybody writing her off as a militant female that will never amount to anything. The press had already covered the submission of the incumbents qualifying petitions for the election yesterday, his seventy thousand signatures thought more than enough to get approval and re-election once the voting was held in November.

When the press caught on to what was happening and questions started being asked the incumbent senator, the no comment answer was used quite extensively. In an attempt to disqualify the challenger they challenged her petitions, only to have the lady submit another twenty thousand signatures to the inquiring officials. That was done one day before the time limit expired. The challenging candidate then questioned the senator’s signatures presenting evidence that a lot of the signatures on his petitions were not valid, no such address or no one living at the furnished address.

Her petitions were checked thoroughly, not one signature proved to be invalid, much to the senator’s dismay. His petitions were a different matter, after all the dust had settled he did qualify but only one hundred and fifteen signatures more than he needed. That amounted to almost twenty thousand signatures that proved to be fake. Quite a stain on his claims of truthfulness and honesty.

At the challenger’s campaign quarters there was cheers and celebration, it had worked out just as they planned, they did have enough signature challenges to disqualify him, but they shelved those wanting a campaign against him, part of a larger plan for during the campaign. The press meanwhile were playing this all up, very good for newspaper sales and TV ratings. Almost everyday a new facet of the story was explored front page or as a leading news story for the evening news.

Then the allegations about the senator’s voting record and his relationship with the special interest groups started coming to light. Copies of deposit tickets showing checks from a lot of groups he claimed to know nothing about. His signature on the back of the check proving otherwise. The fact that he even deposited the checks into his account proved that he thought he was above the intellect of his constituents. Then we have tapes of conversations with a lot of people known to be soliciting support for certain legislation showing up, and the resulting vote records when that legislation came before the legislature. The result of the first few polls told everyone that his re-election campaign was in serious trouble. They started running lot of ads, trying to discredit his opponent, all paid for by the special interest groups.

The lady candidate is a daughter of a regent for the largest university in the state. Her mother, the regent, holds several degrees in various subjects from a number of colleges and university's around the world. The candidates father died in one of the Arab conflicts in the middle east, the conflicts she is adamantly against in any way or form. The daughter’s name is Hillary Walker, and is currently the CEO of a worldwide charity organization that aids needy children all around the world. They tend to focus on children left to their mother after the father leaves when told he is the father of the child. They help with paternity tests, and legal fees for the mother to get some support for herself and her child. Each case is well researched as to its validity and that the facts disclosed are true and provable. They do not take the word of the mother as unimpeachable. Their help does not have to be paid back, and a careful followup is performed every three months to make sure the mother and child are still doing okay. Since Hillary has been at the helm, over a million dollars has been raised for that charity. She receives no compensation for her efforts, her time as CEO is donated, a fact that has been prevalent since she started the charity. All of this is in addition to her serving a four year term in the state legislature.

With regards to her campaign she takes no campaign donations from any groups, including religious groups, only individual donations from her constituents of less than ten dollars. No one knows how much of her personal money is used to finance her campaign, but the media coverage in this campaign has done more than its share in making her popular and well known.

The bottom line in all of these changes due to political favoritism is that most males are now looked at being basically dishonest, taking favors and money to advance themselves at the cost of everyone else. A lot of companies saw this and started making changes that would even out some of this distortion in life. They started easy, changing dress codes for the male, making him appear less masculine, which stopped some of this male only mentality. The males that did not conform left the companies employment, making vacancies for more female employees or males that were essentially neutered gender wise. Since a lot of the corruption left with the good ole boys the companies flourished making record profits and making huge strides in gaining market share. The males that fled, found finding any kind of employment sparse, most of them still unemployed even to this day.

The companies that did not make the changes found themselves losing business at an alarming rate. So they either had to join the ranks of the others embracing the new changes or end up going bankrupt.

The company I had just interviewed with was one of the leaders in adopting these changes. As I was walking to the personnel department that morning for my interview I saw very few males that were dressed masculine. No skirts per say, but hair in a feminine cut, blouses instead of shirts and basic makeup like lipstick and mascara. Otherwise they seemed happy in their role, doing their jobs with a smile on their face.

I was called in the next morning, getting dressed quickly and was at their offices before nine o’clock. I had to sign a pile of papers, acknowledging the rules I will have to adhere to. Just like I thought, there was no one employed who fit the normal male image or personality. After my entrance interview that morning welcoming me to the company I was given a list of things I would have to have done to be able to work here. When I took a minute to look at the list, I let out a huge sigh, my days as a normal looking male were over with, the feminine haircut, use of makeup and their no pants rule for all newly hired employees would leave me severally lacking in anything masculine looking. Then there was the proviso that my male organ had to be tucked away, unavailable for use and not to be seen at any time. In the case of new hires, like me, I was to wear some type of breast forms for the first three months, that to make me aware of my new status here. They even furnished an address of where these changes could be obtained, if I had them done there, they would handle the cost of the procedures.

I was shown where I would be working at, so that after tomorrow all I had to do was show up to work, my first day’s tasks laying on my desk. My boss did tell me she would see me after I showed up for work, making sure that I was adhering to the rules of my employment explicitly. Before I left my new cubicle I did notice the name plate on the desk, Miss Lee Hanover. Quite a change from the previous Lester Hanover. Incidentally the name Lester was despised by me. Although the name Lee could be used for either gender, the Miss on my nameplate ruled out any obvious connection to the male gender.

The job I had been given is a glorified secretary, the small cubicles just so that the male secretaries can’t talk with each other. My boss's office at the head of the row of cubicles. On her desk is a monitor where she can see what each one of her secretaries is doing at any time of the day. All kinds of hoops to jump through for a minimum wage job, that will lead nowhere in the following years. I should point out the wage although minimum in today’s economy was more than enough to live comfortably on. I was reminded the job was seven days a week, only on major holidays was the company closed. However, the hours had been reduced since we worked only from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon.

I did call the salon after I left the companies headquarters wanting to get these changes over and done with. I was already dreading them, but either I complied or I would have no job. I arranged an appointment later today, the one taking my information telling me it would take up to five hours to accomplish the changes depending on the procedures that I chose to accomplish those changes.

I picked up some take out to eat, but did not buy as much as I usually consumed. All of this having a profound effect on me. I ate my meager lunch in their fast foods patio area, while I contemplated my soon to be new look.

With a sense of dread I made my way to the salon, and was greeted warmly and hustled off to a room near the back of the salon. On a table was all of my information, including some info from the company. Most of it was permission slips that I needed to sign agreeing to the procedures. Each was one explained to me, then the options available to achieve those changes. I did ask a few questions, but it seemed the only way for me to stay employed was to embrace the changes wholeheartedly.

I swallowed hard and took the more long lasting options, hoping after this all settled I could expect to be still employed with them over the following years. Since I had only one offer of an interview after college, the job prospects if I lost this job were non existent.

They started right away, a cream to remove all of my body hair, I had chosen the permanent option, never enjoying having any hair on my body. Then my feet were placed in stirrups extended from the end of the table and junior glued to my groin, then a silicone vagina was glued over that to give the appearance of a female’s sex. I shed a tear as that was being completed, I never did masturbate much, but now that was a mute point. Once the tech was done down there, I had a slit between two puffy lips, my male genitals now gone. I closed my eyes trying to cope with what had been done.

My eyes popped open quickly when two cups were glued to my chest right above my nipples. From the size of the cups I will be well endowed. When I signed the permission slips I had no idea about what a C cup breast looked like, much less how they were going to be formed. Since it could be reversed later on down the road, I thought it a better option then wearing breast forms. Maybe that was not a wise decision, now that I had seen the size of my soon to be breasts. Well they don’t have to fill the cups to overflowing so I might be alright. Hoses were hooked to the cups and a pump somewhere started pulling extra flesh into the cups, the start of my soon to be required company breasts.

While the pump was doing its thing my nails were worked on, soaked, cuticle removed, extensions added and then polish, a pale pink color. All males that were employed anywhere had to wear pink polish on their fingernails, another one of the rules of the new society. Then my hair was washed and conditioned, then cut into a feminine style. As she finished the cut she spread a paste over my hair roots first, then through the rest of my shoulder length hair. The paste was a pale pink, now my hair would also be that color. The new society making sure that any male employed would be easily distinguishable from his female superiors.

After the color had set and the paste had been washed out my hair was placed in curlers, then a dryer was slid over my head, while the pump was still encouraging my breasts to grow. I looked down at my nails again, not to be taken for granted anymore a chipped nail or poor polish job and I could be sent home without pay for the day. If I was to wear open toed heels my toenails had to be similarly polished at all times.

So many rules, all devised to make sure the male knows his place in society. There have been rumors about how things used to be, but when told of them they seemed improbable. Imagine a male being able to ask a female to marry him, what a laugh.

It indeed took them most of the day to complete my transition. Finally I was inspected, the result of each procedure to satisfy a rule photographed, a copy of which to be placed in my personnel file. My nails were measured for length, having to meet the three quarters of an inch past my fingertips rule. Of course, a picture of my breasts, and my new vagina to prove that those requirements had been met. Then I received a standard secretarial uniform, pencil skirt whose hem was five inches above the top of my knee. Then we have the blouse, white lace with a plunging neckline showing at least three inches of my cleavage. The standard heels were five inches in height, stiletto heel and open toed, my pink toenails proudly on display. My makeup semi-permanent lipstick and rouge, pink in color to match my nails. Three piercings in each ear, two studs and one pair of three inch hoops all in shades of pink. My hair had been styled, the pinkish blonde color tying all of my new look together.

Now for the bus ride home, another rule of the new society. I had gotten used to taking the bus everywhere, but now it would be quite a different experience. All the males adorned in their pink essence, quite a sight for the other bus riders. I never thought when I used to stare at the pink males that I too would be one sooner than I thought.

No males allowed to own or operate a car, much less ride in one unless he was engaged or married, his significant other to be the driver. That more than anything reducing the male attitude regarding their superiority.

Once home I slipped out of my heels and put on the required mules for the evening. The calves of my legs already throbbing, but there was nothing I could do about it. Rules are rules. I ate my salad, now that I am employed a bit larger one than when I was un-employed. I am allowed thirty minutes of TV, from the restricted list of shows for males. Then had to get ready for bed. Undressed, a ten minute shower, then moisturizing cream for my whole body. Thus prepared for bed I made my way to the chair and slipped into it positioning my arms in the restraints and leaning my head back into the holder for that purpose. At exactly 09:01 the restraints tightened around my arms and my head was secured in its holder. The butt plug was eased into my rear passage and inflated keeping it secure for the rest of the evening. At 08:01 the next morning the procedure was reversed, then I dressed to go to work. A much better situation than when I didn’t have a job.

Whether I fell asleep right away or later was not the problem of the chair, its function was to see that my hairdo remained pristine and that I did not engage in sex of any kind during the evening. As a secondary function it will handle all normal excrements for a male during the evening. Males are not allowed any kind of a sexual release unless they are married and their spouses want it to happen. Such is the life of a male who now has a job in a female led society. I am so happy I finally have a job. Years of hoping and praying finally fulfilled.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Irene: A Step Maid

Irene: A Step Maid

I was a little apprehensive about going home this time. Home just did not seem like a place I wanted to be any more. I am very thankful for finally escaping from this damn school though. Even a little proud of graduating tenth in my class, although I doubted anyone else would lend any significance to the feat.

The school was a boarding school, nestled in the mountains in the northern part of Arizona. It was far from any civilization, the nearest town about seventy miles away. No school uniforms thankfully, but the curriculum was very unusual. Oh we had the usual math, English and a foreign language to learn, French by the way in my case, but the other areas of study were far from anything a normal school might teach.

The reason I was in this school was because of the woman my Dad married shortly after my real Mom died in an auto accident. Prior to this school I was in a normal boarding school, in Southern California. I don’t think either of my original parents knew how to deal with male children, the boarding school life one that I was immersed in since the second grade. My sisters did not share my fate, they got to stay home and attend a regular school.

While at the school in Southern California I did get to see my parents at Christmas, and for two weeks during summer recess. Mom always too busy to spend much time with me and Dad too wrapped up in his business. I did get to spend time with my sisters though, an enjoyable time had by all. We did things together, shopped for presents for each other during the Christmas break and usually spent some time at the beach during the short summer recess. Better than a boarding school but still not a real family and home environment.

I grew up realizing I was always going to be on my own, so I withdrew physically from showing any kind of affection to others. I resorted to reading and using the internet for my enjoyment, finding out that the normal female oriented romance novels appealed to me. Not for me identifying with the heroine, but for the amount of love shared among the characters. Soon I was fantasizing about being in a loving family, with a Mother and Father that actually wanted to spend time with me and love me. When Dad sent me an email about remarrying a younger woman I was heart broken. I then came to the conclusion that my real Mother meant little to him, the wedding was only four months after she died in the car accident. I was later to learn he had been living with this woman on and off for over a year, his marriage to my real Mom apparently meaning nothing to him.

Then two weeks later I was transferred from my current school to this one, never even getting to go home between the transfer. The new school seemed nicer in a way, but a lot stricter. It was in a valley nestled among the towering peaks nearby, laid out beautifully on a pristine campus. I got off my bus one afternoon and was attending classes the next morning.

I was puzzled by the classes I had to attend, mainly ones involving keeping up a house, cooking and how to dress while doing this. I excelled in the regular subjects like French, English and math, but suffered in the other classes. Since I really didn’t have much choice in the matter, I finally relented and tried to do better in the other subjects. I hoped the year I had left of schooling would pass quickly, then I would be of age I could do what I wanted. I knew my father had set up a trust fund for me, available to me on my eighteenth birthday, a date I had circled on my calendar long ago. That date would be three days after I graduated from this school.

I had already ruled out college, not wanting to spend any more time in learning anything. Even the thought of spending four more years in some dorm made me sad, I need to find someone to love and in turn be loved back.

I did eventually learn what the new school wanted me to. I could clean a house better than most of my fellow students and could cook most any dish from memory, never needing a recipe to do so. The dressing the part was another matter, but I did put up with having to wear an apron for any cleaning or cooking tasks that was assigned to me. I conveniently over looked the other requirements for dressing appropriately, figuring they did not apply to me. Quite a few of my fellow male students did have to dress the part, wearing a maid’s dress and using makeup. I presume it was never brought up to me since my family did not furnish me uniforms or makeup to use. I never put much thought into what the others had to do, just figuring it was a weird school, at least they would know how to take care of themselves if they did not marry. I did figure out they were being trained to be maids, how that will work out with their family an unknown entity.

A couple of times I almost had to borrow one of my fellow students dresses, since my clothes were getting thread bare from being used for years. My pants were already showing my ankle, my growth spurt making them look ridiculous on me. Since we were always doing something either cleaning or cooking I didn’t eat much, my appetite never amounting to much. I guess that was good in a way since my shirts and pants waist wise still fitted me properly, although having been bought new over five years ago. I had already thrown several pair of pants and quite a few shirts out since they had virtually fell apart while I was trying to put them on. I had mentioned to my family that I could use some new clothes but my numerous requests fell on deaf ears.

I managed to complete the year somehow with only a couple of more classes today, then I was finished with this place. I made my way to my room after finishing my last class, only to find the head mistress waiting for me. I noticed my closet was empty, even the shelves with my underwear were obviously vacant. She told me to undress and take a bath, then dress in the clothes laying on my bed. I saw a garment bag laying there, a smile lighting up my face. Maybe someone got me some new clothes. She told me to hurry, so I wouldn’t miss my bus into town.

I quickly undressed and went to take a bath. The bathrooms in our rooms did not have showers, so a bath was the only way of cleansing ourselves. I hurried, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. Out of the bath, the scented soap still lingering on my body, a smell I had gotten used to over the year. I toweled dry and rushed to the bed to open the garment bag.

Once open I stepped back, a pair of panties, a bra, a slip, and a dress was the only things in the bag. Oh there was a pair of high heels in the bottom of the bag and a scrunchie pinned to the dress. I looked for my old clothes, but they were missing along with the head mistress. I looked to see if the head mistress was still around, even calling out to her. No answer, so I decided getting away from here is more important than what I would be wearing.

I dressed in the clothes, the classes I attended in dressing the part of a maid supplied the know how to get the right piece of clothing on the right part of my body. I looked around my room, my laptop was the only thing remaining of mine. I grabbed it and saw my bus tickets laying on top. I looked at the clock on my bedroom wall and hurried out front, I knew the school bus would be leaving soon and I didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary.

The female clothes felt funny, the silky feeling doing all kinds of things to my over stressed mind. The skirt in particular was short with petticoats underneath to make it stand out. The dress was a fancy maid’s dress, why I was given it to wear home baffled me. I hurried out the door of the dorm just barely catching the school’s bus before it left.

As I set in one of the seats toward the back of the bus I suddenly realized I was out dressed as a female, on my way back east with no other clothes available. Once on the bus heading home I knew it would be a day and a half before we arrived at my home. Well too late to do anything about it now. I wonder when I arrived if any of my family will be waiting for me at the bus station. On trips home in the past for Christmas or summer vacations I was not always greeted at the bus terminal, often having to take a cab to get home. I then realized I had no money or I.D, just the bus ticket and my laptop.

I kept thinking about my escape from the school, that alone keeping my spirits up. I made the connection in town, surrendering my ticket and took a seat on the bus to take me home. I received several careful inspections by the other travelers, not often you see someone dressed as a maid on a bus. At least, no one set next to me on the first leg home. Other than being hungry the trip went fairly fast, I spent most of it taking naps or staring out the window.

As the bus pulled into the small town I used to call home, I perked up wanting to see if anyone was waiting for me. Even though I had managed numerous short cat naps from time to time, I was still tired. With only my sisters as close family I doubted I would settle around here, too many sad memories to live with.

Surprise, surprise my step mother greeted the bus, taking my hand and leading me to her car. I had received a picture of her early on so I knew who she was. A new Toyota in white with leather seats greeted me. She clicked the locks and I entered the car as carefully as I could while trying to keep modest. She complimented me on my appearance, especially my waist. I kept quiet, I am sure she has an agenda to inform me of, so I will remain quiet and see what develops. As she drove off she asked me if I was hungry. My stomach answered much to my embarrassment. She asked if I had not eaten something on the trip here. I curtly answered I had no money to buy anything to eat. She looked to see if I was kidding then she asked if I had opened my laptop on the trip. I told her no, while I reached for the laptop and opened the case. There laying on top of the keyboard was two crisp twenty dollar bills staring at me. I turned many shades of red since I had presumed the worse and in turn she had seen to my basic needs.

A few minutes later we pulled into a restaurant’s parking lot and she turned the car off.

Come on let’s get you something to eat before you blow away. I looked at my clothing, the slips underneath my maid’s dress keeping the skirt flared up. She arched her eyebrow’s up, reminding me that I had made the trip across the country in that dress, and lived to tell about it, a little more exposure is not going to kill you. I eased myself out of the seat and followed her into the restaurant. When we were greeted by the hostess, I was hoping she would request a table or a booth apart from the others. Nope she pointed to a table right in front of the dining area, visible to everyone in the restaurant.

A waitress showed up handing us menus, and took our drink orders. Connie, my step Mom told me we had lots to discuss. She suggested that I listen to all the facts, then after thinking about what I had heard for a while, then ask pertinent questions with some discussion to follow. I nodded my head but she insisted on a verbal response. Yes, I understand was voiced, but I could not keep eye contact with her, my eyes focused on my dress with a slight blush coming to my face.

The waitress returned and Connie ordered for both of us, some salads with meat and cheese, with an assortment of salad dressings to place thereon. After the waitress left my step mom started her spiel. At the time, I thought of it as a spiel, something made up to make her point salient.

Your Father is currently serving a prison term for embezzlement in the state correctional system. Since there were many charges leveled against him, his chance of getting out anytime soon are pretty slim. His courting and subsequent marriage to me was another attempt to cover his losses, I only escaped with minimum losses since I had checked him out before marriage, and found a lot of things that were of concern to me. All of my wealth and possessions were put in my Mother’s name, thus he was unable to latch on to any of them.

As soon as he found out about my precautions he quit coming around, I presume spending his time wooing some other source of financial wealth. We never did obtain a divorce, he was too busy trying to seduce his next victim. It all came crashing down on him when an audit of his company accounts revealed a shortage of almost a half million dollars. He was arrested and after several days of interrogation revealed all of the other funds he had stolen and then lost in some utterly stupid financial moves. Since he did confess to the crimes, there was no trial, the judge passing sentence a few days later.

All of this transpired about the time I pulled you from the boarding school in California and placed you in the one in Arizona. That was done because he had lost all of his personal money, including money set aside for your schooling and your trust fund. The school I transferred you to is one operated by one of my friends, so there was no tuition necessary to be paid. I did check on you often, the head mistress giving me reports on your progress including pictures as you progressed in your studies. Of course, I took in your sisters, since they also had no funds for schooling or anyplace to live now. Your old house was sold off to cover court costs and some personal monies that he had stolen from individuals he had duped.

Our salads were delivered and she paused in her story. The salads were good, since my hunger was intense I consumed all of mine over the next thirty minutes. I did use proper table manners, eating slowly and savoring every bite. My one hand remained in my lap where it was supposed to be, a smile on Connie’s face when she saw my actions. After the dishes were carried away, she resumed her story.

I admit not sending you new clothes or money for you to purchase some, wanting to see how you would handle the situation. You did so well, not bitching or complaining but adapting to what you were left with. My friend, the head mistress, felt so sorry for you, almost giving you a full set of maid’s clothing so you would not look so pitiful. I must compliment you on your resolve and determination, admirable to say the least.

Now we arrive at your future. Do you have any thoughts on the matter, I am all ears if you have something you would like to do or pursue. I sat there wondering what I could do or pursue to make something of my life. With my trust fund gone, I really did not have any options left. I did not want to depend on Connie for clothing, somewhere to live and money for essentially everything since I did not have a single thing to my name. I looked down at my maid’s dress and thought why not.

I cleared my throat and asked if I could work for her as a maid. I am sure your friend can attest to my skills, and maybe you could find it in your heart to furnish somewhere for me to live as part of my wages. I am trustworthy, have had all of my shots and can be an asset to any household. Surely a large house such as yours could use experienced help. I saw her smile, then she grabbed the check, paid and we left. She took my hand making sure that I kept up with her as we made our way to her car.

The remainder of the trip was fairly short, about fifteen minutes in length. When she pulled up to the house I swallowed hard, looked out of the window again then back at her. Her smile was ear to ear now, a giggle or two intermixed every once in a while. We parked in front of the house and she came around to get my door for me. I was helped out, then taken into the house. I kept looking around then back at her, I had no idea she owned anything this big. It was a presumption on my part when I asked if I could be her maid earlier.

I was shown in to the parlor, then over to a love seat near a writing table. She sat down at the table and took some paper and pen and wrote down my request and her response to it. It turned out to be a contract between her and me, about my employment with her. She listed what I would provide and what she would compensate me for those services. She looked over what she wrote, then at me, finally deciding what she had written was adequate. It was handed to me along with a pen to look over and sign if I thought it was fair.

I made it down to what I would receive in wages, then promptly fainted. I came around to find that I was nestled in her arms with my face a few inches from her bosom. She was running her fingers through my hair and pulling me closer for a hug every now and then. When she saw that I was back among the living she giggled, wanting to know how much she would have to increase my wages to make me accept the deal. I just stared at her, leaning over to the table and finding the pen to sign the contract. I reached up to try and hug her, but she had the advantage and was gripping me tightly in her embrace. I tried to get up, but she wanted me to lay still and listen to her for a minute.

“The third floor of her house is designed for housing any domestic help she might employ, several bedrooms and two baths along with lots of closet space. There is an elevator that goes directly to the kitchen, so having to climb stairs will not be necessary.”

“You will mainly be responsible for her care, helping with clothes, baths and normal female maintenance like nails and hair care. She already has a maid for my sisters, so I will be spared that duty. I will need to share in cooking the meals with the other maid, but she has a service for cleaning the house and maintaining any of the outside grounds. It will be 24/7 every day, normal work hours during the day and on call for late evenings and nights. When she is out of town I am free to do what I want, the chauffeur will be able to take me anywhere I might desire. There will be times I have to accompany her on her trips, so a passport will be needed to be obtained, that to be handled in the next few days.”

“We need to see to your looks, I can’t have my personal maid looking so dowdy, I think a few things to give you a female figure, then a new hairstyle and some lessons in makeup might be called for. Other than that I am thrilled that you have decided to be my maid. I will have to admit that the thought had crossed my mind often when you were attending the boarding school. I didn’t want to force you or influence you in any way, a decision like this has to be made freely. I think we can have a nice relationship as maid and employer and also enjoy one as mother and daughter if you would be so inclined.

That last part only between the two of us. I care for your sisters, but I do not see them as my daughters. They are too much like your father, uncaring and manipulative. I laid there for a few moments then reached up and pulled her close to me trying my best to hug her with all of my being. Between the two of us we managed a tender hug, lasting for quite sometime. Maybe just maybe I have found someone to love and in return to love me.

A little while later I was shown to my room, the larger of the rooms on the third floor. I was quite impressed, a queen size bed and a separate sitting area by the window. An en suite bath, with a huge tub. At the other end of the bath a built in vanity with a large mirror for my makeup and hair needs. One whole wall of my bedroom devoted to a walk in closet, already having a few maid’s dresses hanging there. I looked at her, did she presume I would choose to be a maid, or was this all planned somehow. I received a smirk in return, then she walked in one end of the closet and opened a drawer and removed a gorgeous nightie for me to wear tonight, then back to the closet and pulled out a matching robe to be worn over the nightie. She suggested that I change then come to her room on the second floor. I was holding the nightie in my hands when she left the room, all of this a little much since I had only arrived a few hours ago. I did surrender to the nightie, shivers encompassing me as it slid down my body. What a delicious feeling it provided.

With the nightie in place, I delighted in the feel of it on my arms and body. Then the robe after that making me feel so warm and cozy. I looked for some slippers, not finding any but did find a pair of heels, with a moderate heel. They fit perfectly, a smile coming to my face, Connie apparently had this planned for quite some time, everything just too convenient for random luck. Everything so far in my size. I made my way down the stairs, needing the practice if I am going to be wearing heels all the time.

Her bedroom was the larger one on the second floor, decorated to be a feminine delight, the main centerpiece a canopy bed right in the middle of the room. Lacy curtains on the windows and an even bigger sitting area in the corner of the room. She was sitting at her vanity brushing her hair as I approached. I held out my hand for the brush and took over the job. I brushed slowly making sure to run the brush through the entire length of her hair. I saw her close her eyes enjoying the feeling of having her hair brushed. In the boarding school it was one of my favorite things to do to brush someone’s hair and to have mine brushed in return. For an eternity I brushed and she purred, for that is what it sounded like as she was enjoying my ministrations.

I stopped, laying the brush down and started rubbing her shoulders, working out the knots I felt in her muscles. Now she was moaning at my efforts, with me giggling a few times as she strung a few moans together in some sort of sentence. When I felt I had them all removed I moved my attention to her face, using some cleanser to clean off all her makeup. Again the eyes closed and quaint little sounds coming from her mouth. I found some moisturizing cream to finish the job, applying it and rubbing it in.

I stopped for a minute to see what else I could do for her, only to be dragged to her bed and placed in the middle of it, sans the robe. She scooted in next to me and held me tight, not allowing me to move or escape. I whispered that I needed to head to my room, if there isn’t anything else I can do for her. She placed her finger on my mouth, telling me to shush. She pulled me in a little tighter and was soon asleep. I was able to make her happy with my efforts, to show my love and caring for someone else. For once in my live I seem to be loved in return, what a wonderful feeling. I closed my eyes too and was soon lost in the pleasant feelings of a delightful sleep.

She wouldn’t let me out of her sight for the next week, we did things together, things that a female does to make her feel pretty and attractive. I received those same things back in return, although she does admit that she is not as experienced as I am in doing nails and makeup. I guess I had picked up more from my classes in school than I realized since all of this came so easily to me.

Then on the Monday of the following week, her chauffeur brought her car around and Connie and I departed the house. I had been attired in one of my other maid dresses, one that was in between being a maid’s dress and normal feminine wear. I asked where we were going but her finger on my lips stopped any further questions. When we pulled up in front of the salon I swallowed hard, she had mentioned making me look less dowdy, but I had conveniently forgot that part of the conversation. Well I guess the time for those changes has arrived. I was instructed to enter and tell them that Irene is here for her appointment.

I never connected the name Irene with me until one of the gals came and took me to the back. I thought I was just announcing that Connie was here for an appointment. Duh it takes some people a lot longer to figure some things out. Irene and Connie are two distinctive names, not easily confused.

Several techs entered the room, apparently all of them to work on my dowdiness. Let’s just say that I severally doubt the word dowdy and me will be referred to in the same sentence ever again. Ears pierced, body hair removed, a female appliance applied covering my male genitalia and two perky breasts added to my former flat chest. Irene is now here for the duration, the breasts in particular pointing out that fact, sucked from my body I imagine they are mine for quite a while. Then they started on my hair, a cute pixie cut for now, until I can grow my hair longer. It was five hours later before I received any clothes to wear, the underwear coming first.

A pair of panties, then I was fitted for a corset, a cute lacy piece of fluff that absolutely took my breath away. Not for being nice looking but for the way it engulfed me in its evil embrace. After it was laced up properly, It took me thirty minutes before I could resume breathing in a somewhat normal manner. It was not the corset that gave way, it was my body that had to adjust. Short breaths and often, if I wanted any air at all. I pleaded and begged for some relief, even an inch would be most welcome. Their only reply is that tomorrow it could be taken in another inch, maybe two. I tried to let out a groan, but that was even not to be. My maid’s dress again for the trip home, much looser than on the trip here due to the corset.

Of course, Connie was ecstatic at my new looks, her hands going to my breasts immediately. Back home and I resumed my duties as her personal maid. In the morning I was to see to her dressing, selecting her clothes to wear was one of my responsibilities after she informed me of what was on her agenda for the day. Then seeing to the maintenance of her room, linens changed, clothes seen to and all straightened as needed. After the first week the other maid handled breakfast and lunch when there was someone home, and I cooked and served dinner every night. That change was made after Connie took a bite of my first offering. I was proud, a way to show my love and caring for her, a delicious meal served properly and eagerly consumed by her.

On occasion one or more of my sisters would be there for dinner, but most of the time they were at a friend’s house or out on a date. In our limited conversations with each other they were looking for someone to marry, there ticket out of here. Although Connie gave them a roof over their head, nothing more was offered to them other than a small allowance for their basic needs. When they complained she pointed to me, telling them they could work for her as maids to make extra money for whatever they wanted. No one took her up on her offer, they wanted the easy way, to them that meant getting married and acting as wives. I pity anyone that married one of them, all my sisters were looking for was someone to take care of them and who they could eventually fleece for their money. On several occasions they actually stated those words, not ashamed of their beliefs or behavior in the least.

It wasn’t but a few weeks later when I went to my room to find my closets and dresser empty. I made sure they were not hidden in the room somewhere, now worried if I had done something wrong and was being evicted. I was never one for having any self confidence, so as I made my way down to her room I was almost sick to my stomach in worry. I knocked like I usually do when her bedroom door is closed then entered. Connie was hanging something in the small closet nearest the bathroom. I noticed a new dresser there to the other side of the closet, one that had not been there until now. I walked up to her and curtsied. I manged to get my question out, although it was barely heard, a combination of me being nervous and my all of a sudden squeaky voice. She made me repeat the question this time loud enough for her to be able to understand it.

“Am I being let go for some reason, my uniforms are missing from my closet and my dresser with my dainties is empty. What ever I did I am so sorry. You can dock my pay, or even not pay me, but I need you in my life. Please keep me. Please…….

Connie pulled me closer to her, then both hands on the side of my head as she leaned in and kissed me. I absolutely melted, then started sobbing uncontrollably. She held me close letting the tears ease, then stepped aside letting me see inside the closet she was standing in front of. There were all of my uniforms, neatly lined up. Right next to them was my going out in public clothes, ones that I had not even realized were missing from my room.

I giggled, then attacked her kissing and rubbing and squeezing her getting her to giggling, then outright laughter. Once calmed down some she told that my sisters were moving out, they had found an apartment that one of their boyfriends had and would share with them. Connie had no problem with them moving out but wanted them to realize once they did there would be no returning back here. She gave each a check for a thousand dollars, but reminded them there would be no more in the future. So plan ahead. The girls were so happy and almost ran out of the house. Their maid was packing for them now and the boyfriend and some of his friends would be by later to pick up the boxes.

“So my dear daughter it is just you and me now. The sister’s maid will stay on to help keep up the house, the two of you now responsible for its cleanliness and tidiness. The service I had in the past now terminated. So let’s get that makeup repaired and get to work. I expect something special for dinner tonight, so we can celebrate, then a night of cuddling and kissing culminating in a late brunch maybe. Then an afternoon shopping for my maid and daughter.”

Just think what might of happened if I had not offered to be her maid. But then again I think she had it all planned in advance anyway. Either way I am so happy a caring mother to her daughter and a career as a maid, a job I so enjoy. A wonderful life indeed as a step-maid.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca