Shawna; It Started With A Dress

 Shawna; It Started With A Dress

Friday night again, Mom and Sis were settling into their customary chairs, and I was bringing the snacks and drinks. When I had everything distributed, I found my chair and turned off the stereo. It was Mom's turn to go first tonight, so she took a drink of orange juice and started. She covered our financial situation, we were doing pretty good considering the situation we were saddled with. Mom still had a few debts to pay off but payments had already been scheduled. The air conditioning unit will need to be replaced soon, and other matters regarding the house were discussed.

Then she filled us in on her practice. She never used the names of her patients, but kept us informed of new pregnancies, births, when operations were scheduled in the upcoming weeks. Then it was open to questions about her part in the family, or requests that we would like to have.

The weekly meeting was a result when Dad abandoned us. In the following weeks after his departure, we were bombarded with info and situations, that none of us had a clue existed. Mom spent over a year cleaning up all the debts and situations resulting from our Dad's lies. Sis and I became depressed since none of what he had told us seemed to be the truth.

The college funds that he had set up were not there; the friends of his that were supposed to help us with college admission were nowhere to be found. The nail in the coffin though was our whole life he had told us that Mom was his true love, his everything, his reason for living. It turns out he had a mistress for ten of those years. Unfortunately, for the mistress, he left her in the lurch too.

My Mom was a doctor specializing in Obstetrics and Gynecology, with her office located in a portion of our house. We lived in a rural area of Arizona and her practice had grown significantly over the last few years. Her preference for these arrangements was because she wanted to be able to spend time with her kids, not on the road to some remote office or clinic.

She still had to go the local hospital every so often, but two to three times a week was bearable. Her kids consisted of my sister and me, and we considered ourselves very lucky to have Mom around so much. Since Dad bailed on the family many years ago, it was just the three of us. My sister was eighteen going on twenty-five, and I brought up the rear at seventeen years of age. We were close, much closer than most brothers and sisters, but very competitive with each other.

Mom constantly was getting involved with us settling disputes and arguments. Nothing really escalated to a point that it could be considered a problem, but we were always squaring off with each other. Part of the problem was that my sister was very outgoing and aggressive while I was more submissive, our genders seemed to have no relevance to our behavior or actions.

Sis loved sports and played on every team she could get on while I was a bookworm and preferred social contact. I was friends with several females at school, talking with them about fashion, makeup, and boys. I never did dress as a female and of course, I never dated any boys. Sis and I both had high IQ's and were committed to our studies earning a 3.9 grade average respectfully.

My sister Susan was always involved in something, most often sports, sometimes the local community theater, but quite often boys. She did not have a steady boyfriend though her regular group of friends included four very interested young men. She managed to keep them at arms length although they all wanted more than just friendship.

The exact opposite of my sister Susan was me. Since my Mom was stuck on names with the same first letter, I became Shawn. My main pastime was reading. I devoured anything that was readable, whether it was fiction or non-fiction. It was not unusual for me to read eight to ten books a week. I loved school since I seemed to have this burning desire to learn everything I could. Often I got teased for being so wrapped up in my studies that I didn't hear the bell at the end of class.

Several girls kind of adopted me as a friend, a girlfriend since we would only talk about things girls talked about. Unless their boyfriends were around, they would seek me out. After Susan had kidded me about being a girl at school, I tried to put some distance between the girls and me. I loved their company but was not sure I wanted to be considered a girl. Of course that worked for ten minutes if that, before the girls had tracked me down.

I confessed my reasons to them and found out that night that Susan had received the wrath from my four girlfriends. They were appalled that Susan would try to get me to abandon their friendship. My girlfriends even talked me into taking Home Economics, a class rarely taken by a male. I agreed because the other option was shop or auto mechanics, and I do not get along with males in general or had any interest in either class. In Home Economics there was one other male in the class, a French exchange student, who obviously shared my lack of ability with tools. The girls always helped me with my projects in Home Ec. making it a fun class.

My girlfriends were just that, I never dated any of them, the friendship definitely a girl/girl type of relationship. I did attend the prom, but stag, since several of my girlfriends, didn't have dates, and they wanted the company. I did attempt to date one of my female friends when I was worrying about being classified as a girl. After I had asked her on a date, it was a while before she stopped chuckling to herself. I got the response that she was not that kind of girl; she considered me a girlfriend, a BFF even, but not in a boy-girl relationship. I was still smarting a little about this since the encounter was only a few weeks ago.

Back to our Friday night family meeting, it was now Susan's turn. She covered her academics at school, her school activities, her status on the sports teams she was participating in, and who her friends were that she was presently seeing. That was a requirement that Mother had insisted on. It went past just notifying her of their friendship; we were required to bring them home to meet Mother before we could spend time at their house.

Both Susan and I resented this condition at first but warmed up to it as we saw that Mom truly was interested in what we were doing and the friends we were seeing. Mom usually had a dinner at least once a week where we could invite our friends over. She made a point to make them feel comfortable and welcome.

Susan ended her discussion with the fact that she had been asked to attend a special set of classes for gifted students at the University of Arizona. It was three weeks long, and if she met all the requirements, she would be given a four-year scholarship to the university. She had already been given several partial scholarships because of her interest in sports. Of course, Mom was thrilled about this and Sis got hugs all around.

I was last this time and after Susan's announcement I knew I had nothing to compare to her success. My grades were improving, with only the one class in my freshman year spoiling my next to 4.0 grade average. I told Mom about my participation in several school clubs, and that I had won the school chess tournament. I listed my current friends and what we were doing or talking about.

I did tend to go easy on the fact that we talked about boys and fashions. I got nominated to the National Honor Society, a feat that very few students accomplished. I conveniently forgot to mention what our project in Home Ec. was for this week since I feared the look I would get from Mom and definitely the comment that I would get from Sis.

I did put in a request to be able to attend a workshop at the University of Arizona for several of my classes. It would be three days long, primarily for gifted students, with mathematics and science the featured subjects. It also included my Home Ec. class but I tried not to mention that fact. To my embarrassment, one of my projects in Home Ec. had won a statewide competition.

I was proud of it, but not sure how Mom would feel about it. The fact that Susan would tease me about it was a known fact. To my surprise, Mom asked if that was all I had to present tonight. I immediately was wondering what she knew that I had not discussed. I tried to bluff and told her that there was not anything else going on. She cocked her head and asked again if there was anything else I might want to talk about.

I lowered my head and quietly said no, that is all I have to discuss. Susan raised her hand, and I knew that I was doomed. Mom had insisted that we use proper manners in these family meetings, not just interrupt anytime we wanted to say anything. Tears were coming to my eyes as I tried to figure out what to divulge that Mom apparently knew about.

I ended up saying nothing, but Mom called on Susan. She was almost quiet in her speech as she asked me if I didn't want to elaborate about my dress design taking first place honors in the statewide Student Sewing Competition. Oh God, somehow Mom and Sis found out about the competition.

Almost on cue, Susan asked to be excused so she could go to the restroom, promptly leaving me there to explain why I hadn't told Mother about the competition, much less about how I had been chosen out of five thousand female students to have submitted the most unique dress design in the state. Mom didn't really say anything, just gave me that look that terrifies most children when Mothers wants an explanation. It also conveyed to the child that this explanation better be good, real good.

I swallowed hard dreading the upcoming conversation but decided to get on with it. I told her all about the Home Ec. class and how a lot of the projects involved sewing clothes for the student. One of the projects was to design a dress, in a new style or fabric, and then cut it out, sew it up, and then pick the proper accessories for the dress. We then had to model the design, taking pictures of it. My teacher Ms. Watson was ecstatic about the design, deciding to enter it in the statewide competition.

She found out last week that I had won the competition. I reached into my book bag and withdrew the picture of me in the dress and handed it to my mother. She looked at the picture for a long time, then placed it on the coffee table and asked me if I was ever going to tell her about it if Susan had not mentioned the contest. I mumbled maybe if I ever got enough nerve to bring it up. She asked if I was ashamed of the dress and winning the contest. I replied no.

She stared at me for the next few minutes; apparently, she was not going to ask questions, I was expected to divulge all on my own. I took several deep breaths but finally managed to tell her about the contest. I told her that my girlfriends furnished my lingerie, also doing my makeup for me. After I had finished my version of the story, she asked me why I was so ashamed of my project that I couldn't share it with my family.

I hemmed and hawed, finally managing to tell her that I thought she would be embarrassed to have a son that wears dresses and sews. I also mentioned that I was sure that Susan would see to it that I never forgot if she could get past the teasing. Mom told me she would never be embarrassed by anything that I did. She was proud of all my accomplishments, whether it was winning a chess tournament or a dress design contest.

Susan returned after using the bathroom and set herself down in her chair. Mother looked over at Susan and told her to tell me what she had conveyed to her about the dress design contest. Susan paused a moment, then said that she had told Mother that Shawn had won a statewide contest for dress design due to his involvement in his Home Economics class.

His design, it is totally awesome. The picture that a fellow classmate had shown her was unbelievable. Shawn was not visible in the picture, only Shawna. Somehow you have got to get Shawn to fess up to it; he is really a girl under that facade of Shawn, a girl that needs to be let out. I was in tears by that time, to hear that Susan had treated me as a sister and not teased me about any of it was slowly sinking in. Susan came over to me and gave me the biggest hug, and I, of course, totally came apart.

When the tears finally eased up, I found Mother sitting on the arm of my chair reaching for one of my hands. She pulled it up to her chest and pulled it to her like she was never going to let it go. Shawna, you must never be ashamed of anything you do. Everybody is different in so many different ways; there really is no normal.

If you enjoy something, and it gives you pleasure, then do it. If a male has never done it before, so what. Look at Susan, she enjoys athletics and sports, even though most normal females do not. The fact that she is different is, to her, a badge that she is proud of. I don't ever want to hear of something that you have done that is not shared with the family. Now, young lady, I think you owe us a fashion show of the winning design.

I tried to make excuses that I didn't have any lingerie and nobody to do my makeup. Mom just smiled, telling me that my lingerie was in the bag on my bed and Susan would be up in a minute to do my makeup. As I walked to my room I was trying to figure a way out of this, besides how did my lingerie make it to a bag in my room, I had purposefully left it in the Home Ec. classroom in my locker.

I sat on the edge of my bed doing my best to stall to keep from going through with this. The dress design that I had come up with was more than a little revealing, a spaghetti strapped LBD that fit my body like a glove. The cut of the dress was not that much different than a lot of dresses already on the market, but the use of different shades of black satin and the covering of black organza made the dress look like it was covering absolutely nothing.

All aspects of the female body were more than covered but to the casual observer the dress looked like it was transparent. I was interrupted by Susan coming into my room, she glanced my way and told me that stalling was not going to get me out of modeling the dress. Surprisingly, she sat on my bed next to me and hugged me. I was told that I had nothing to fear since Mom was very proud of me.

Susan even mentioned that she was proud of me, but to qualify as the little sister in this family I had to model the dress. She pulled me to my feet and started helping me get undressed. I hesitated when I got down to my underwear, but Susan casually mentioned that she has known that I have worn her panties for years. Why do you think that the prettiest panties are always on top of the pile? I took the strapless bra out of the bag and slipped it on fastening the clasp in the back, my face red and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth .

Susan smiled at the ease with which I performed the maneuver. Next, was the garter belt, followed by the stockings. I looked in the bag for my shoes but didn't see them. Susan pulled a pair out of the bag she was holding, a black patent stiletto with a five-inch heel. I wondered how I was going to get by with this. I have worn heels this high in the past, but to slip them on and walk in them without much difficulty is a dead giveaway to how long I have been wearing heels.

I decided that things could not get much worse, so I would just have to take my chances. I slipped the heels on made my way over to the closet. I had hidden the dress in the back of my closet, so it was not an effort to retrieve it. I undid the many buttons down the back of the dress. It was similar to what a lot of bridal dresses used instead of a zipper. It did add a lot of class to the dress.

Before I slipped on the dress, Susan asked if I forgot something. I briefly looked down at my body and could not see anything missing. Susan pulled a couple of real looking breasts out of the bag she was holding. I had used socks to fill the cups when I modeled the dress for the class. She helped me to place them in my bra cups; the additional weight was instantly noticed on my chest. Fortunately, the bra fit snug enough to hold them in place.

I stepped into the dress, with Susan doing up my buttons for me. She sat me down at my desk and spread the remaining contents of the bag on the desktop. I was aware that a lot of the cosmetics were the same ones my girlfriends had used on me when they helped me get ready for the dress modeling.

Susan retrieved the cosmetics and starting with the foundation proceeded to convert my image to that of Shawna. All of my girlfriends had started calling me that recently, even though I had asked them to cease. To them, I was a Shawna, their BFF, and that was the end of the discussion. It took Susan about fifteen minutes to complete my makeup, and the illusion that Susan had created was far more feminine than when I had modeled the dress in Home Ec.

I told her that I couldn't face Mom looking this feminine, but Susan grabbed my hand as she led me down the stairs. She did remark that I walked better in the heels than she was able to. I blushed but tried to avoid any direct reply. As we entered the study, she told me to take a deep breath. Before I could release the breath, Mom was hugging me trying to squeeze the last bits of air from my lungs.

Her face was tear-stained, but I soon realized that all three of us had rivers of tears running down our cheeks. After a few minutes, she pushed me back a little so she could see my dress better. She asked me to turn around so she could see the back and then stepped closer so she could examine the details. She wanted to know how I learned to sew so well and how I came up with the design. I simply responded that I like to read a lot, and once the idea popped into my head I searched the internet looking for help in how to achieve the look.

Ms. Watson had spent several afternoons after school helping me fit the dress to my body, but she insisted I do all the work myself. Mom told me she had talked to Ms. Watson several times over the last few months, and they had discussed how I was doing with the project. Ms. Watson had called her when she had found out that I had won the competition. Mom then confided in me that my teacher had been trying to get pregnant and had several appointments with Mom over the last few months.

Susan grabbed one of my hands and Mom the other, and I was led out of the study into her office. I didn't know what was happening and why we were going to her office. I was led to her examination chair and told to assume the position. I swallowed hard several times, very afraid of what else Mom might know about.

As I sat down in the chair, Susan eased my dress up to my waist, to keep it from getting creased. My panties and stockings, now quite visible. Mom adjusted the armrests so that I was comfortable, but Susan and Mom never did let go of my hands. Then I felt the straps being fastened around my wrists. When I set in the chair when nobody was home, but me, I always fantasized about being stuck in the chair with no way out.

Now I was stuck; my fantasy had come true. Mom was rubbing her hand through my hair as she tried to soothe me. I asked her what she was going to do, but inwardly I was scared to death. Surely she could not know of my hours spent in the chair when she and Susan were not home. I had always thought myself to be a female and since seeing a gynecologist was what women did, I pictured myself being examined by a doctor like Mom.

Putting my feet up in the stirrups was the culmination of my fantasy. Mom gently pulled my panties down my legs then slid them off my feet. Mom smiled at me, asking me to put my feet up in the stirrups. As I placed my feet in the stirrups, they attached the straps around my ankles securing my feet.

I swallowed hard again, I was scared to death of what she was going to do, but also thrilled by being secured to the chair and experiencing one of my fantasies. Susan leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, whispering in my ear that she had to do some studying, besides most women like to be alone with their doctor during gynecological examinations.

I gave her a puzzled look but quickly looked back at Mom as she adjusted the feet farther apart and lowered the support directly below my butt. Essentially my rear end and upper legs were hanging off the table. Next came my garter belt and as she unhooked my stockings she slid them down my legs. I was now totally naked down there as she started examining my male appendages. She pushed and prodded everything that could be done, before spraying a cool spray over my male equipment.

I finally found my voice and asked what she was doing. She set on a stool that she used as she examined her female patients and rolled over closer to me. She motioned to a fixture in the ceiling and told me that it housed a video recorder that was used to document what was done to patients in case a legal matter ever came up with a procedure or examination.

“Apparently, one of my daughter's is fascinated with being a woman since she has used up much of my videotape in this chair. I decided she needs to experience, first hand, a gynecological examination and maybe we can find the reason that she has still not developed her secondary sex characteristics.”

Mom then sprayed my appendage with the spray again, the end result being that I lost all feeling in my lower torso. She worked my appendage this way and that way until she achieved the result she was looking for. She then took a brush and spread a liquid over the area. Then moved my appendage till she was happy with the result. Then, more liquid on my appendage, with her holding them in place for a while.

I could feel a touch now and then, also when she used the brush, but was not aware of what she was doing. Finally, she was satisfied with her work and held up a mirror so I could see what she had done. I gasped, then promptly fainted.

When I finally regained consciousness, everything was still fuzzy, and I felt disoriented from this world. She gave me a peck on the cheek then held up the mirror so I could see. I felt like I was permanently red from the blush that I knew I was showing. Mom had taken my only vestige of maleness and replaced it with the same look as Susan.

Mom comforted me for a while then slid her stool over so we could talk. I was told that since I was showing so many traits of a female, she thought it best that I live the role for a while until I decide if that was what I wanted. She told me that she had just glued my sexual organs up out of the way, forming a slit from the folds of my ball sac.

Tears were starting to leak out of my eyes, but as my hand was held in her hands, I somehow felt at peace with myself for the first time in my life. She told me to smile, then applied another coat of lipstick to my lips. I was told that a girl always feel better when she has fresh lipstick on.

She then maneuvered the chair, so I was sitting up with just the edge of my butt on the chair. My wrists were still attached to the arms of the chair but now held to my side but ahead of my body. She undid the buttons on my dress and slid the dress down my arms to my wrists. She then unfastened my bra and removed the breast forms that Susan had given me..

She cleaned the chest area very thoroughly, then retrieved a box sitting on the side counter. She removed an object from the box and held it up against my chest. I knew what she was going to do as soon as I saw the breast form, a much more realistic looking form that what had been furnished earlier. She marked the location on my chest and did the same with the other form. She then retrieved the brush and brushed the liquid on the form and my chest. It wasn't until she held the form against my chest that I saw the bottle she was getting the adhesive from. She was using one of the strongest medical adhesives made. A fact that I had absorbed from my avid reading of anything I could get my hands on, including Mom's medical journals. I asked her how long I was expected to live the role of a female.

Her simple reply was from now on you are Shawna both in mind and physical appearance, my second daughter, and a female. Other than it being totally unexpected the changes to my body weren’t unwelcome. Then I thought about school, crap I can’t go to school like this, I twisted and turned in the chair trying to free myself, but Mother just held me, her breasts pressed up against mine. She told me that I would be going to school like this, I won’t have you miserable the rest of your life because you are too scared to face this part of your life. The changes have already been made in the office and for the rest of the school year, Shawna is now expected to attend classes.

I am aware of the possibility of someone making fun of you, but the sooner you face those people, the sooner your life will return back to a feminine version of what you had. The school has a strong anti-bullying program and hidden cameras throughout the school. Someone will be keeping an eye on you, and any trouble will be dealt with swiftly. You have to realize and accept that from this moment forward you are female; Shawn is gone for the future until we can see to what degree you are wanting to be a female.

Since you have been a favorite user of my exam chair, I think you need to experience weekly gynecological exams to make up for lost time. Once the newness wears off, I think you will hate them just as most true females do. Now I want you to go upstairs and straighten your clothes, redo your makeup and get your purse; we are going to dinner tonight to celebrate my other daughter’s first birthday.

After being released from the chair I grabbed a hold of my dress to keep it from falling off and slowly headed up to my room. My breasts are bouncing around on my chest making it a bit more difficult. As I entered my room, I was hugged by Sis. She apologized to me for spilling the beans but did learn in the conversation that Mom already knew about the dress and the contest. I acted so miserably all the time at school, and although it is an unwritten law that sisters are to never help their brothers, she couldn’t bear to see me suffer anymore. I am sorry for ratting on you, but I am so proud of your achievements, I just wish that I had even a small part of your talent.

It took me a while to repair the damage to my makeup, then put myself back together clothes wise. We went to our favorite restaurant, upon removing myself from the car I began to panic, a lot of my school friends came here to eat with their parents and I am sure to be recognized by them. Sure enough the party in front of us had one of my BFF’s from the home economics class. As we stepped up to the line Linda turned and looked my way, then exploded in my direction. I got asked fifty million questions, if I was going to school as a female now, are my boobs real and when I was going to the salon. If I didn’t have a favorite she would take me to hers. I tried to answer her, but their party got seated and we were next.

Before we made it to our table my phone started ringing, I guess the word is quickly spreading, by the start of school tomorrow everybody will know about my new look and sex. I sighed, but eventually answered the phone. It was Beth one of my other girlfriends, I told her I was eating, but that I would call her after we returned home. It was another of Mom’s rules, if we were eating no phone calls until after dinner is finished and cleaned up. Two more phone calls were handled in the same way, now I had four calls to return as soon as we returned home.

Both Mom and Sis were smiling as my focus returned to the meal. “There, that wasn’t too bad, now you are out to the school, so tomorrow you can concentrate on your studies. When you first get there you have an appointment with the principal, then later with your home economics teacher. You will divulge all, your wishes, you getting caught and the fact that you will be living and acting as a female for the foreseeable future. Is that clear young lady?”

I responded, yes Mother, a phrase I used often to convey my agreement, not necessarily that I totally agreed, but I knew I would have to do as she wished to avoid further restrictions on my life. After we got home I did make the four calls, a lot of squeals erupted from the phone as they confirmed my new look for school. It is official, everybody who is somebody knows of Shawna, her fame spread far and wide. I laid there in bed for the longest time, then realized I had nothing to wear for tomorrow at school. Oh gawd, I need to be sick.

Mom came in later to see that I was tucked in, her right as of the new version of the Mother code. I got a peck on the forehead, as I was telling her that I didn’t feel too good. Well that went over like a lead balloon. She calmly walked to my closet, opened the door and turned on the light. A cacophony of brightly colored garments reflected back, I set up in bed then squealed my approval. I ran to the closet and started looking for the perfect dress for tomorrow. Mom gave me that another daughter to raise look, but smiled, then left the room. I am sure she is aware of how long it takes to find the right clothes for my first day of class as a female.

School was a non event, my girlfriends keeping an eye out for me and making sure I was immersed in all things, and not hiding to keep from being seen. I did receive attention from the male segment, but not what I was expecting. I was asked out several times that first day and if I was with the girls I was ogled and chatted up just like I was a charter member of the female gender. When I got to Home Economics the first class of the day I was given information for the trip to the University and the classes I would attend while there.

I found myself on the front page of the school newspaper, now all would know of my winning the dress design competition.

I ceased to be able to slip away to some private space at school, now I was talked to and interacted with everyone both male and female. Before my involvement in the chess club was one of my ways to escape some of the drama of school life. Now I was sought out anywhere I went for advice or simply to be included as a friend.

I learned very quickly that the female gender is what I wanted to be a member of, my male existence not having any thing I wanted to be a part of anymore. It all started with a dress, my resulting life as a female something to treasure.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Tammy; Embracing Mom’s Choice

Tammy; Embracing Mom’s Choice

It was way too early on a beautiful Saturday morning. The birds outside my window were serenading me with some fanciful tune and the warm sun through my window was encouraging my reluctance to stay in bed for another hour or more. My Mom chose that moment to enter my room, the birds stopped their song and the sun went behind a few clouds.

She threw a set of sweats at me, telling me to get dressed, we were leaving in fifteen minutes. I managed a huh, but the look I received persuaded me to don the sweats and put up with whatever she had in mind. She checked on me a few minutes later, grabbing a hold of my hand and leading me downstairs and out the door. I didn’t even have a chance to brush my hair, and any thought of breakfast now seemed remote. Safely positioned in her front seat with my seat belt firmly fastened we headed off. I tried again to find out where we were going but she didn’t feel like giving away those details.

We pulled up to her beauty salon, I gave her a quick look, to see if this stop was for her or me. Again with her son’s hand in hers, I was escorted into the salon and back to a room near the back of the salon. My sweats were removed, Mom hanging on to them, leaving me quite naked and feeling very vulnerable. She stepped outside the room my sweats disappearing along with her, she returned a few minutes later, a huge smirk on her face. She set down in front of me, on the only chair in the room and laid it all out. In simple layman's terms, my hair was going to be washed, conditioned and cut into a feminine hairstyle. Then styled in a proper way for that cut, after that was completed I would get a look at my new look, one that I will sport for the forseeable future.

If you remember our conversation yesterday I wanted you to get a proper haircut, then come home so we could visit my sister on the other side of town. Well when the sun was starting to set you wandered in, your clothes absolutely filthy and no haircut. So I have decided we will correct those deficiencies in your behavior, starting now. After you see your new hairstyle, you can decide if you want to keep up with the male facade, or switch to something that might be less conspicuous. Your decision, I am only enforcing the haircut and new hairstyle. Now be good for the ladies, they have my permission to dole out appropriate encouragement if you act up or otherwise make a pest of yourself. They will call me when you are finished, and I will come and pick you up. Incidentally the sweats are trash, you might keep that in mind when contemplating leaving the salon in your nakedness, unless you pick some other type of attire that might be more appropriate for your new look.

Be good and I love you, but all of this has come as a result of your total disregard for what I have asked of you. At least this way, I do get one of my lifelong wishes fulfilled. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek like she normally does and walked out. I called out to her, but according to the gal coming to work on me she was already heading out the door. So I sat there about to burst into tears, trying to figure a way out of this. Mom had planned thoroughly, all alternate avenues that I might have chosen had been eliminated or made virtually unattainable.

The lady technician helped me into a chair they used for washing a customer’s hair and leaned it back, my head now above a sink and warm water gently flowing over my hair. For the next twenty minutes she used several products on my hair, the end result was silky and shiny hair, much better feeling than any any time before in my previous care of it. A quick thought reminded me that growing my hair down to my shoulders might not have been such a great decision, with what Mom had in store for me. Too late now.

The chair was set back up and she used a towel to remove the extra moisture from my locks. She ran a comb through it several times to make sure she had all the tangles out of it.

She took a picture of a lady with a hairstyle that framed her face perfectly and taped it to the mirror in front of me. I presumed that it was the hairstyle I would be soon sporting. There were quite a few curls involved in the style. My days as a masculine looking member of that gender were apparently numbered.

For some reason I manged a few words, asking her if there was any chance of making it look more masculine or even ambiguous after she was done, She smiled, but shook her head no. I am afraid your days as a male out and about are over, either stay at home all the time or embrace your feminine side.

I sat there in silent thought for several minutes, asking her if I could have a few moments for myself to think things over before she starts. She left me to my thoughts for about ten minutes before she returned, looking at me for some indication of my decision. I swallowed hard, telling her I wanted the works, everything she can do to me to make sure I will only be seen as a female. A much safer approach to this awkward situation I find myself in. I definitely did not want to have to stay at home all the time, besides being totally bored, being in close proximity to my Mother all the time might lead to other escalations that might not be desired by me.

Better to get it over with right at the start, then try and find a way to live with all of this. The lady smiled introduced herself as Stephanie, and said to relax, natural born beauty takes time so dream of wonderful things and we will have you living your dreams by tonight. I closed my eyes for a minute, the first thought that entered my mind was being kissed by a boy, Stuart to be specific, friends since grade school, and the reason for my missing my trip with Mom yesterday. We did everything together, in rain, mud and whatever else we could get into.

I kind of zoned out, coming back to the here and now when Stephanie started winding my hair on curlers. She stared at me wanting to know if the kiss was dreamy. I turned red, redder than I ever thought possible, but did mutter yes, it was. The entire day was spent bringing out the femininity in me. Holes for my now pierced earrings, two pair by the way, the dangle ones caressing my neck in a most delicious way. All of my body hair was removed, weird at first then wonderful as the silky clothes were slid over the now hairless skin. My face was not spared, now soft and silky, with nothing more than a few eyebrow hairs now left on it. The makeup did feel funny at first, but starting with the lipstick it soon endeared itself to me. I liked the look, no residue of anything masculine to spoil the image.

When it came to my body, she suggested some breast forms, glued on at first, then after I have lived with them for a few days maybe something more permanent. Down below a gaff, a garment that held things snug and out of sight.

I chose a dress to start with, I have no idea why, but when Stephanie showed me my choices, I instantly fell in love with it. A little girl’s dress, all frilly, with huge petticoats to hold the skirt out. The sizable breasts that filled out the bodice took away some of the little girl look, but once in it I twirled several times watching the skirt flare out from me. Yep, this will do for my first dress, I just hope I get to wear it more than just once.

I have no idea what possessed me to go the whole way to femaleness. I know Mom can be stubborn, so maybe embracing my femininity might head off future escalations in my appearance. I have quite often pushed my luck with her, this just a case of all past situations being grouped together and handled at one time. I knew from the amount of planning she put into this that there would be no escape from it, knowing Mom, she is at home making my male clothes disappear. I hope that is all she is doing, although I wouldn’t put it past her to add more tribulations to her plans for me.

Eight hours after Stephanie started on me I was shown my image in the mirror. My days as Timmy are over, even if all of this is undone, I doubt I would look like him again ever. I decided I needed a new name, saying a few names to hear how they sound. Among them were Tammy, Teresa, Tawny and Terri. I thought for a moment, deciding I liked Tammy the best. Now if Mom and Stuart agree I am set.

I hope Stuart and I can still be friends, although my looks seemed to have changed everything that might have been. Young males do not play with girls that look like me, they hold open doors for them and try to kiss them.

Stephanie did tell me that Mom had called earlier wanting to know why it was taking so long to give me the feminine hairstyle. She just told Mom that I might have a surprise for her later, but she would have to wait a few more hours to see it.

As I was trying to see my image from different angles in walks Mom, walking right up to Stephanie and asking where I was. I did another thing that I have never done before and let out a small giggle. This caused Mom to turn to face me and after a few seconds grabbed me in a rib breaking hug, trying to squeeze the life out of me. I was kissed often, but did notice the tears streaming down her face. Stephanie gave me thumbs up in the background, smiling and giggling too.

I swear Mom held me for over twenty minutes, before she finally let me out of the fierce hug. She thanked Stephanie for her work and dragged me to the front to pay the bill, I was fearful of how she might react, I am sure the total was much more than what a hairstyle would normally cost. It seemed to not faze her, she paid the bill and I was led to her car. On the drive home she constantly stole glances in my direction, I ended up having to scoot closer and place my hand on her leg to get her to concentrate on her driving. We did make it home in one piece, but there were moments when there was some considerable doubt involved.

Once home I was escorted into the house, her hand on my back making sure I was headed in the direction she wanted. In our living room I was appraised once again, no detail of my transformation was missed. I excused myself since I had to use the bathroom, a new experience since my male parts had been glued back between my legs. It was definitely messier than using the bathroom as a male. I did wipe as Stephanie had instructed me to do at the salon, then had to replace way too many clothes to make my way back to where Mom was waiting for me.

As I walked past my bedroom I noticed that my closet door was open, the inside of the closet quite barren. I think I had played into her hand a little too easily, since she had apparently had something similar in mind when she dropped me off at the salon. I did notice the tears on her face when she first saw me at the salon, maybe having a daughter more important to her than having an unruly son. I am sure she loved me, a Mom having to love her child to put up with all that I had put her through over the years.

The next day I met up with Stuart, he held the door for me as we left to walk to the park. Then a little later I received my first kiss under the sprawling oak tree. I decided then and there it would not be my last kiss as Tammy.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Prissy; A Blushing Bride

Prissy; A Blushing Bride

I saw the ad in the local newspaper and immediately changed clothes to go to the interview. The best restaurant in town was hiring staff to wait on tables. I checked the wording carefully, no mention was made about waiters or waitresses just staff to serve food and wait on tables. They had a good reputation in town, paying decent wages and offering a lot of fringe benefits.

I knew that their staff up to now was exclusively female, but maybe I could somehow get on with them. Maybe even force them to hire me, threatening them with a discrimination lawsuit if they turned me down. Let’s face it I was desperate. It had been five long months since I had a steady job, the odd employment here and there not doing much for paying the bills and providing something to eat.

I had lots of experience as a waiter, working several summers in different restaurants and resorts. So I made sure I had my resume and the numerous letters of reference that my former employers had given me. I checked my appearance in the hall mirror and headed to the restaurant. When I drove up I saw the line coming from their front door all the way to the parking lot. They didn’t open until five P.M.,so since it was a little past ten in the morning I stood a good chance of getting to be interviewed. After finding a spot at the end of the line I looked ahead of me, all I saw was females, most of them quite attractive.

One of the gals ahead of me after seeing me join the line did tell me that they only hired females. I smiled but told her that I hoped to change that fact. She giggled at my statement but otherwise left me alone.

It was boring standing in the line all day, but at three in the afternoon I finally made it to the person doing the interviewing. She was an attractive woman, but no nonsense in her dealing with the prospective applicants ahead of me. I did notice a smile as I stepped forward. I handed her the application, my resume and my letters of reference. She read them all carefully, then laid them to the side. She asked several questions, not what I was expecting though. Mostly about what a server should do to make sure their customers were satisfied. I answered truthfully, her eyebrows showing surprise at my responses. Her name tag printed with the name Ginger, head of Human Resources, Paramount Corporation.

She did state that they only hired females, but I was already laying a copy of the ad down in front of her. I pointed to the wording, then asked if she had a letter from the newspaper saying they had made a mistake in publishing the ad. She got a smirk on her face, her demeanor changed though as she told me she didn’t.

She wrote out an address, telling me to be there at eight in the morning for a test of my skills. I looked at the piece of paper, the address was at one of their other restaurants, one that served breakfast. The address was close, so I nodded my head in acceptance and I told her I would see her in the morning. I got a huge smile from her as she replied that she is looking forward to it. The few females behind me were giggling as I walked back to my car, but I just held my head high and tried to ignore them.

As I drove home I wondered if this might just turn into a job for me, but reality kind of reared its ugly head, no just a way for her to find a reason that I was unsuitable for the job. I did stop at the restaurant I will have to be at in the morning for my supposed test. I ordered a drink and a few fries, while I checked the place out.

I looked around making sure I made myself familiar with the layout and where the food was served from. There were quite a few tables in the restaurant, most of them quite close, closer together than at most other restaurants in town.

Apparently their business had increased considerably since they opened causing them to add all the extra tables. It would add to the difficulty of serving food and getting around. After checking the place out I picked up some tacos at the drive in next door and made my way on home. The tacos to be my dinner tonight.

I thought quite a bit about my supposed test, wondering what she would want and what things she might add to the test to make things more difficult. Her options were unlimited, from waiting on a large group to some customers wanting lots of personal attention. Then if I passed the test, what she might insist on if I was hired. I was determined to somehow get hired by them, no matter what I might have to do to succeed. If hired, I hoped that phrase might become real after tomorrow.

After a somewhat sleepless night, I showered dressing in some of my better clothes. I brushed my hair then gathered my application, resume and anything I else I thought I might need and left, planning to be early for my test. When I arrived she was already there, the restaurant full and everybody hustling to get the customers served. Ginger pulled me aside and told me what she had in mind for me.

I was shown the area I would be responsible for, and introduced to the other waitresses as they came to pick up their customer’s orders. I was instructed to wait on the tables in my area after the present customers finished and paid their bill. She did have me slip a smock over my clothes, one that all the other waitresses were wearing.

It was noticed, my fellow waitresses giggling up a storm. On me it looked like a short dress, with the zipper in the back, my pants peeking out from under the smock making the look incongruous. Once on it would be with me for the length of the test. She took pleasure in zipping me up, then pointed to the first table that was changing customers, my cue to start my test.

Before I knew it I was waiting on ten tables, right in the center of the crowded restaurant. It took me a few minutes to get into the swing of things, but luckily it did not affect my customers being served. To say I was busy, that would be quite an understatement. I did see her watching me all during my test. It was almost ten thirty when I managed to give my last customer their check.

I had waited on those tables through three different sets of customers, mostly pleasant although I received many stares when I first came to their table. No one asked why a male was waiting on them, or wearing a smock as I did so. It was only after I had served their food that they seemed to relax and resume conversations that they normally would indulge in over a breakfast meal.

By now the restaurant was somewhat empty, so I finished clearing my tables and setting them up for the lunch business. Ginger got up from the table she had been sitting at and grabbed my arm and led me to an office in the back of the restaurant. So far no words spoken to me. Once in the office she complimented me on my ability, but it left her in a quandry about hiring me.

You obviously have the experience needed but the position you applied for is not filled by males in our restaurants. I do have one place where I hire males, but I am not sure you will want to work there. I started to say something but she told me to wait until she divulged what it will take to accept that job.

It is a night club, where we offer a full menu of food and drinks. It has become quite popular as of late, reservations now required to be able to get in. You do fit the requirements to work there as I look at you. The pay is twice what we pay at our other restaurants, the fringe benefits the same and you do get a hefty clothing allowance on top of everything else.

It is six days a week, working a six hour shift. We open at five P.M. and close at two A.M. The shifts are staggered somewhat since the club does not get real busy until eight. After everybody has been waited on they usually manage to have everything cleaned up and set for the next day by four in the morning.

I blushed red, figuring out what club she was talking about. The food servers were all males, but had to wear costumes to work there. The costumes were varied, each employee never wearing the same costume two days in a row. The difficult part to accept is all of the costumes were for females. I had never been to the club, but had been told about it by several lady friends. It was quite popular with the ladies, they liked seeing a male dressed as a maid, a baby, an exotic dancer, a housewife or many other types of female attire serving them food and drinks.

I was dead set against it until she mentioned the pay and the amount of time I would work. I could do the job and have quite a bit of time free to do other things. She obviously saw that I was interested, since I had not got up and walked out on her. She waited till I said something, letting me think it over. I tried to say something three times before a few words managed to get out of my mouth.

She suggested that I work there one night, as an assistant food server, so I could get a feel for what I will be doing, then if I want to pursue a full time job with them I could let her know. I managed a nod, suddenly my voice had left me, my mind was frazzled and coherent thought seemed impossible. She picked up the phone, called someone then informed them of my trial shift. They could use me tonight, so she arranged a time for me to be there, explaining to me that I needed to arrive an hour earlier tonight, so I could be made up and given a costume.

If it became a regular job two hours early are required, but the company pays for that time at the regular pay rate. Any tips are yours, some of the employees make quite a bit of extra money. The tips are directly related to the costume they are put in, thus the main reason that the costumes are switched every day, giving everyone a chance to benefit from a particular type of costume.

She made sure I knew where the club was and that I still wanted to try it out for a night. I did manage a yes, although it was barely heard, the resulting reappearance of a deep red blush made any further words impossible. I did receive a hug as I blindly stumbled out of the office. I managed to make it to my car, but after getting into it I just sat there trying to figure out just what I had agreed to. Finally I got it together and drove the short distance home.

Once home I made it as far as my sofa, then collapsed on it to rehash the morning. That was when I noticed I was still wearing the smock. I twisted and turned trying to get to the zipper and out of the smock. Success at last, as I slumped back on the couch.

I was proud of myself being able to show her what I could do, but the job offered left me quite concerned. The money sounded great, even the clothing allowance sounded interesting, but I did wonder why a clothing allowance was offered in the first place. No decisions made, still unsure how I had been talked into doing this. Then if memory served me right she didn’t talk me into it, I volunteered. The rest of the afternoon was spent thinking of what I had let myself in for. Finally it was time to head to the club.

I made it a little early and wandered into the club. The bouncer asked my name and then two ladies came from inside the club to escort me to their work area. I was undressed and made to stand as they looked my body over, looking at each other and smiling. I was led over to a flat table, and helped up onto it. A cream was spread over my body, left on for a while then wiped off, my little amount of body hair coming off on the towels. I was turned over and the back side handled the same way. Now nude and hair free they started putting pieces of a costume together for me. When they came back to me, the small amount of cloth in their hands did not bode well for me. Maybe I will get a dress or something more to help cover up my body.

Two small breast forms were glued to my chest, then a bra added to hold them in position till the glue dried thoroughly. I noticed the significant weight even though the breast forms were smaller than normal. They looked like a teenager’s breasts, maybe a B cup, although I am certainly no judge on bra cups sizes.

Then my feet are placed in stirrups extending from the end of the table and spread wide so they could take care of junior. He was handled for a few moments then I lost feeling down there. When they finished they held up a mirror to let me see my new female sex. Junior was hid under a fake vagina, quite realistic looking and inviting.

Then came my costume, a garter belt first holding a pair of sheer stockings up followed by a pair of panties. Then a nightie was slid over the lingerie. The nightie was almost sheer, the bra, garter belt and panty quite visible through the material.

A pair of towering heels slipped on my feet, the ankle straps securing them to my feet. I guessed the heels were at least five inches tall, how they expected me to be able to walk in them I am not sure. To help handle that problem I was allowed to walk around the room as they handled another male employee.

I watched as they converted him to an adult baby, diapers, a onesie and footies, his costume. His hair was put in braids, with ribbons tied in bows at the end of each pigtail. A little bit of makeup and some mittens for his hands and he was ready. Apparently he had this costume before, since he barely reacted to being dressed this way. He did receive a pacifier slipped into his mouth before he went to the floor, the ribbons on it tied behind his head in a bow.

Meanwhile I was getting used to the heels, now able to get around fairly easy. I knew though when I had food to serve, the task would be more difficult. Right before I was pronounced done I was sprayed with perfume, a very feminine smell now emanating from my body. Then a spray down my throat and my voice was much higher and weaker. My hair was curled, their use of a curling iron giving me lots of bouncy curls. I received some lipstick and mascara, those two items making the gender change complete.

The one gal lead me to the club floor where Ginger was waiting for me. She had the biggest smile on her face, her only comment is you look so precious. I was introduced to the other waitresses, every type of female apparel or costume represented. There were cheerleaders, office workers, exotic dancers, house wifes, belly dancers, schoolgirls and a female in a prom dress to name just a few.

There was not an area for each employee, each of us to wander the floor and wait on the customers for whatever they wanted. I was soon to find out that the customer picked who they wanted to wait on them mainly by the costume we were wearing. I was assigned one of the other employees, her costume a dominatrix. We made quite a pair, but she was nice and we were soon busy setting up the tables for the evening. She warned me about the attention I would receive tonight, the female in her nightie always getting lots of attention, not all of it desired.

She did inform me that any new employee usually received either the nightie or the exotic dancer, an unwritten rule of Ginger’s. She also told me that I could expect some attention from Ginger tonight, making sure I got the full effect of the job. Jennifer would take the orders and I would be expected to get the food or drink and serve them at the table.

Depending on who was free, one of us would present the bill and get them change or a credit card slip for them to sign when they were ready to leave. We would split tips and share in the cleanup after the club closed.

The first customers were let in about thirty minutes later, the steady stream after that had the club filled within an hour. The guys mainly sought out Jennifer and I while the ladies seemed to pick the cutest servers to get them food and drinks. Of course, the males were also enthralled with the exotic dancer, her pasties and g-string her only costume.

During the evening when I had a chance to look at some of my fellow servers I had a hard time believing that they were once male. Later in the evening I finally noticed the pictures on the wall, each employee pictured as a male and then in one of the costumes proudly displayed for all to see. I did wonder about their breasts, most of them having breasts that looked so real, their movement and hard nipples quite noticeable to everyone.

I did get groped several times, I just backed away from them waving my finger no no and then smiled. Ginger did make me get her some food, then a drink later, but otherwise acted quite normal, not what I was expecting.

By the time to close the club my feet were in severe pain, the back of my legs just throbbing. I stayed with it though making sure I did my share of the cleanup. When I finished I asked Jennifer where we changed back to our regular clothes, she gave me a smirk and whispered we don’t. You go home in your costume and if you become a regular employee you come to work in a dress or some other type of female apparel. She was going to say more, but saw Ginger coming my way and left me to her.

Ginger asked how I liked the job, then complimented me on my costume and my service tonight. She waited for me to say something, but I was at a loss for what to say. I did finally manage to ask her about where I could change before I headed home. A huge smirk appeared, she telling me that I wear the costume home. Most of the other waitresses usually bring a coat to slip over their costume before they head home.

You are expected to come to work in a dress or skirt bringing your costume that you wore the previous evening back with you. The reason for that is the false vagina and the boobs are semi-permanent as long as you work for the company. If you sign on you will be fitted with the semi-permanent appliances before you work your next shift.

The clothing allowance is so that you can buy a wardrobe for your new female self, sufficient for everyday wear. Heels are mandatory from now on if you decide to join us, a few weeks wearing them and you will be committed to a high heel to be able to walk. Of course, makeup and a feminine hairstyle is required at all times, the only connection to your previous male existence will be the picture we will display in the club with a before picture next to it. Now do I sign you up tonight or do you want to think about it for a while?

She did have to close my mouth, pushing up on my chin to close the gap. I sat down in one of the chairs near me and held my head in my hands. She asked again and I nodded in the affirmative, words still not forthcoming. She helped me up, pulling me into a hug and held me tightly. I was now leaking some moisture from my eyes, but steadfastly refused to admit I was crying. She gathered me up in her arms, walking to the back to retrieve my purse, opening it so I could see my wallet and keys were inside. My clothes that I had worn here now missing.

I was led to her car and she drove me home, asking me if I will be alright. When I hesitated in answering her she drove off, telling me she is taking me home with her. Before we made it much farther I was asleep, slumped on the seat my head on her shoulder.

I remember being led to a bedroom, and helped to get somewhat undressed. Of course, the nightie was left on, a few minutes laying there and I was lost to the world. I got rudely awakened the next morning, Ginger’s smile and smirk the only things I saw. I was pulled out of bed then through her house, right out to her car, with me trying desperately to slow her down.

I was driven to a salon on the other side of town, and taken in to the reception desk. She told the lady that Prissy was here for her appointment, make sure she turns out pretty. I have enough adequate females, I need a few super glamorous ones to balance out the group. All the time I was just standing there, my mouth open and unable to even think of a retort.

As she left me there, my only piece of clothing a nightie and feeling like the world was totally against me, two ladies came to escort me back to their treatment room. I noticed one of the ladies was the one who helped me transform last night, so it wasn’t like I had been left alone and abandoned.

My breasts and fake vagina were removed, the area cleaned and then they started working on me. The one gal working on my male sex, the other one gluing cups to my chest right above my nipples. Before junior was able to swell up, he found himself tucked between my legs and secured there. The gal doing the work told me the glue was super strong, it would take the solvent to get him loose. The silicone vagina was glued over the area using the same adhesive.

She carefully inserted something in my new slit, as I tried to leave the table, the sensations overwhelming me. She pushed it in further then pumped it one more time and I had a release of sticky fluid flowing out of my vagina, I presume cum from my male organ. She inserted a tampon to stop the flow, suggesting when I take my shower later that I wash thoroughly down there, and then replace the tampon. When having sex she suggested I avoid the well hung studs, although their male organs will fit, it might be uncomfortable till you get used to it.

My attention was suddenly brought to my chest as the other lady attached a hose to each cup, a pump starting to suck extraneous tissue into the cup glued to my chest. In the next few hours I lost count of all the things done to me. I did receive pierced ears, my eyebrows were thinned and arched and semi-permanent makeup was applied to my face.

I did figure out no matter what clothes I might be wearing all anybody will likely see is a female. I stared at the image in the mirror, knowing Ginger will be getting her money’s worth before I am completed. They did things to my lower legs, I received extensions on my fingernails and way too many coats of polish to preserve the look. There were other things, but I quickly lost track of everything that had been done to me. Let’s just say that I was quite glamorous and will never be mistaken for anything but a gorgeous female, as per Ginger’s request.

It was quite an experience, one that I will not forget for awhile. Then I realized I had to work tonight, gawd can this get any worse. I did have some time to kill before my time to show up at the club. I spent it lounging around the salon watching others get transformed to the female sex. The one lady who had dressed me last night showed up, telling me to come with her, she could prepare me for the club here, then all I had to do was show up at the club later.

I followed but do to my lack of forethought I missed the obvious flaws that I would encounter later.

It didn’t take her long to make the change, with my new assets all she had to do was supply a pair of pasties and a g-string and I was pronounced done. Two days in a row I ended up with the most embarrassing costumes possible. I did receive a wrap, sufficient enough to cover me up on the way to the club. Then she had the nerve to deduct the cost from my clothing allowance. I was also warned that if I lost my g-string or one of my pasties I would have to pay to replace them.

I sat backstage at the club until it was time to start my shift, the time seeming to crawl along. I thought that eight o’clock would never get here. I managed somehow to work my shift, although I did more maneuvering to avoid being groped than what I had to do to get their food and drinks to the table. After we had cleaned up I let out another huge sigh, I had made it somehow, now to get home and out of the costume. I did smile when I counted my tips, over two hundred dollars in tips, presuming the exotic dancer was one of the costumes that garnered better tips.

On the drive home I thought about my last thought. Unless I wanted to sleep naked, I actually had to put on clothes after I removed my pasties and g-string. I wondered if future shifts would end up any differently. The costume would be different, but living the female life would be constant. Lingerie, hair, makeup would be everyday whether I was working or at home on my day off.

I did decide that a bra would be obtained for me to wear home where none was furnished as part of the costume. The weight and bounciness of my breasts were in need of support badly.

Once in the apartment I reached for my pasties, to pry them off my nipple. It had felt like it was squeezing my nipple all night long. I tried several times, pulling on the pasty did nothing but elongate the nipple, sending waves of pleasure to my mind. I was able to get the g-string down my legs, but once off of my body I felt funny down there. It was like something was missing now. I kept at trying to get the pastie off, but all I was managing to accomplish is stimulating my nipple to flood my mind with pleasurable thoughts. I gave up, found a pair of panties from yesterday and climbed into bed.

In the past I had always had a snack before bedtime, but with all that has happened today, there was no appetite. I did manage to get to sleep, having to lay on my back because of the breasts and over stimulated nipples. I laid there for awhile, wondering if all of this is worth it, the pay is good, but I feel so ashamed and embarrassed all the time. No decision made, but it did cross my mind that since I had gotten the permanent enhancements, I apparently had signed up for the long term.

I needed to do some shopping for female clothes, but there was nothing at home that would fit anymore. Maybe my next costume at work would be one that I could wear to go shopping in. If not maybe I can borrow a dress to wear out. So when it was time to head to work, the g-string was slid up my legs and settled into place, then the wrap I had been given over the top of that. I was early, hoping that the gals could remove my pasties.

I got several giggles as I entered their work area, the one gal seeing the problem. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol, smeared some on my nipples and the pasties slid off. She did mention to her cohort, that I needed to be a blond tonight, it will fit in better with my persona. I was beet red already, but she complimented me on not losing one.

Everything was refreshed, and my hair was put up in an elaborate updo. Long earrings were placed in my pierced ears and then I was set over to the side, having to wait until the club was about to open before I would be placed in my costume. I gave them a puzzled look, but as usual they just ignored me. I did get to watch all of the other transformations, realizing that for the most part we all presented as genuine females now, nothing indicating we were ever a male.

There was one who was wearing a tux and a male dress shoe. No makeup and his hair short and combed back. I don’t remember anyone like that before in the costumes so was puzzled now. The club had opened, now the only two left in the workroom were myself and the guy in the tux.

Then they brought in my dress, I nearly fainted, the guy coming over and held me, keeping me from face planting. It was awhile before I acknowledged that tonight I am a bride. The dress was huge, being able to serve food and drinks nearly impossible. Ginger showed up, that smirk plastered on her face. I was told that I am a part time hostess tonight, then in between I needed to make love to my new husband. No sex just a lot of kissing, cuddling and an occasional grope when desired.

“You don’t need to thank me, it is the least I can do for my favorite employee. Now you two run along and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Well Beth got me out to the club floor and then laid one on me. Yes, my guy is a female and boy can she kiss. We were instantly a hit, a lot of the club patrons wanting a picture of us with them. The flash of the camera almost embedded in my brain now. It turns out that the role of a bride is now my permanent costume, Beth and I having a lot of fun on the club floor making out and kissing during our shifts. It became so popular that we were asked to do it every night, but only for a six hour stint. I missed the tips, but did not miss the clean up and the risque costumes.

After work that first night as a bride, Ginger cornered me and asked me to be her full time girlfriend. No male persona wanted or desired just a full time Prissy. I squeaked out a yes. And I was quickly bundled up and put in her car for the trip to her house. I never returned to my apartment again, Ginger seeing that it was vacated and the contents disposed of.

So now when I show up for work, a conversion to a blushing bride and then Ginger gets me warmed up kissing my neck and rubbing my breasts that peek out of the wedding dress. Beth soon takes over and I spend six hours being loved, kissed and cuddled. Then home to Ginger and many more hours being ravished. This started over three months ago, but continues on just like it was my first day as a blushing bride.

Not what I was expecting when I tried to get employment with them, but I am sure I can find a way to put up with it.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Kitty: Gurl Of The Old West

Kitty: Gurl Of The Old West

The town was a byproduct of a Hollywood movie shoot fifteen years ago. The producers had actually built an entire western town to shoot the movie at. Why they didn’t use a sound stage in Hollywood that was already existing no one has ever been able to figure out.

Anyway about fifty of us who lived in the area saw a possibility to make some money off of it. We approached the owner of the land and bought the whole town along with about six hundred acres that surrounded it. It took us several months to repair the damage caused by Mother Nature and nobody living in the town. We hired an advertising company to formulate us an ad campaign to bring tourists to the area. Luckily we were not too far from an existing tourist attraction, so all we had to do was make the connection that while in the area they could stop and visit us too.

Justine, the gal that put all of this together including forming the original group was quite smart, planned well and was able to make some good deals as all of this started coming together.

We financed the purchase and the operating budget by taking out loans on our properties. The majority of us had paid off our mortgages earlier in life, so our properties were free and clear. Most of our properties fronted the town and acreage, so we were neighbors in a way. Some of us had jobs, but the majority of the group had investments or businesses that supplied us a monthly income. Justine, the head of our group divided us all down into groups based on our interests and experience to develop the town into our little dream, hopefully a money making dream.

There were groups to handle setting up the different stores and entertainment venues in the town. Others to do the props and costumes for the entertainers. It was decided early on that we would try and provide all we needed from within the group, keeping any outsiders to a minimum. All in all there were about three hundred of us, counting the spouses, and the older children. After checking out all the skills of the group it looked like we could handle the staffing with very little outside influence. It was a lot of work to put it all together, but our initial feelers to some travel agencies and tourist groups all came back very positive, reinforcing our original decision to buy the town.

Several general stores were spotted through the town, our plan for them to sell vintage clothing, souvenirs and snack food that could be eaten in the town while they were visiting. Two saloons that would provide entertainment similar to what was offered in the old west. Dancing girls and usually a female singer were the staples back then, so that is what we were shooting for.

The hotel that was in the middle of the town, and had been used by the production company for their actresses and actors would be our big money maker. Although the outside was used for background scenes in the movie, the inside was plush and elegant. It had forty rooms, so we hoped it would more than pay its way as an income source.

Originally we had planned on an admission charge to visit the town, but the logistics of parking, some way of collecting the fee and control access to the town all added up to be a bad idea. If we offered something in each of the businesses that would raise some revenue, probably a much better idea. The general stores had items to sell, the hotel rooms to rent and several restaurants for evening dining. The saloons had entertainment, but charging to get in seemed counterproductive. So some snack like foods, and drinks seemed a much better way to increase the revenue there. We decided on a wide array of different drinks, wine being the only alcoholic beverage and that not to be offered until after ten o’clock at night. We did not want to risk our family oriented destination advertising. Both saloons were quite large, we figured they could seat two hundred plus patrons for a show. Three or four shows a day and we might be able to take in some serious money.

One of the group handling setting up the saloons had visited Las Vegas to get some ideas of what snacks and drinks we could offer. Since during the day we wanted to attract families there would be no alcohol served at either place till late evening. The group did settle on different teas and coffees deciding on fifty different offerings. Of course soda pop was included for the younger children, just some exotic names instead of the old stand bys. All served in their original bottles chilled in galvanized tubs packed with ice.

In between the shows we planned some gunfights starting in the saloons and being carried out onto the streets. The group handing that were already practicing their craft, a few fistfights added to make it all seem a little more real.

We found an old stagecoach, rebuilt it and offered a thirty minute ride around the town and surrounding desert area. The area was quite picturesque, the production company had filmed a lot of their background scenes in the area. The stagecoach turned out to be one of the best ideas, it only needed to be surface cleaned and some upholstery to the interior seats. One of our group was into horses, found us a team of six horses and trained several of the group to handle the team. We managed to convince a couple of the travel agency people to come to the town, offered them a ride on the stagecoach and let them tour the town. We didn’t have the restaurants going yet or the entertainment in the saloons, but they loved the overall idea.

Now we come to our participation in this crazy idea. My wife in her earlier years had been an entertainer on a cruise ship, so she became our entertainment coordinator. She found several of the group to be the saloon girls, actually the daughters of some of our group. No singers though, especially someone that could belt out the songs. We even had a few singers come in that were not part of the group, to audition for the roles. A couple were okay, but nothing outstanding. It was getting down to the wire, the date we had planned to be our grand opening fast approaching.

The costume people had done fantastic, the designs were catchy and very authentic looking. For the singer they were just waiting for the person to be selected, so that the costume could be altered to fit properly. The dresses for the saloon girls and the singer were just like the old western movies, low cut, fitted bodices and huge skirts with lots of petticoats. Enough to tantalize any male without endangering our family oriented theme.

Often in the late evenings after a long day at sprucing up the town several of us would gather in one the saloons to drink a little and have a little fun. The drinks were mostly wine, since surprisingly none of the group drank hard alcohol. I had a few too many, which sometimes happened to me. We were singing along to some music from a stereo, it was featuring a few songs from the stage play Annie Get Your Gun. I was lost in the moment never hearing my fellow singers stop singing, now I was the only one singing along, belting out the words to Anything You Can Do. I did however became aware when the music stopped and I was the only one still singing. My wife approached, a huge smirk on her face and led me away, a few giggles escaping as I was taken away. I instantly regretted my actions, now that Greta is involved, I doubt I will escape unscathed.

Surprisingly she took me home, made some coffee and poured me several cups. I sobered up some as the evening wore on, then I was led to our living room where we had a state of the art sound system. She had me stand in the middle of the room and handed me the words to the same song I had sang to earlier this evening. Stepping to the stereo she queued the music to start, and looked at me expectantly. I missed the first que, so she restarted the music. I did manage to start singing at the proper time but my voice was strained and widely fluctuating. She stopped the music and came over pulling me to her and hugging the daylights out of me. That and a couple of sensual kisses and I was suddenly her little saloon gurl. She repeated the action several times, each time I melted a little more, then when she restarted the music for the third time I was lost in the role. According to her I was fine, but needed to develop a little more volume.

She went through all of the songs I would be singing, handing me the sheet music as we went along. I did not find out until later that she was recording all of my ministrations. When I sang my voice was higher, never could bring it down to my speaking voice. Apparently it will be good enough for the show, she had a couple of ideas for later, but first I had to memorize all the lyrics and practice the songs.

I never did realize up to the moment of my first costume fitting that I would be singing as a female. That is how the show was set-up, but my less than bright mind never put two and two together. I was so intent on learning the songs that I overlooked the difficult part. I was fitted for my costumes, never moving or saying a word. I was in fact staring at a spot on the wall across from where I was standing. I was one to believe that if you ignored something long enough it would go away. I did ignore all that was happening, but absolutely nothing went away, each costume fitted to my body. After the alterations were made and I tried them on again the dress was baggy in areas, then my mind managed to engage, my breasts and hips would make if fit properly once added to my body.

We were a couple of weeks from our grand opening, Greta had everybody scheduled for a full dress rehearsal of the saloon show. It was to be the same people, in both saloon shows, just different costumes and different songs. The saloon girls were different, each saloon having a full complement of girls to serve the drinks and snacks. The shows were staggered, allowing time for costume changes and a rest period in between. The shows during the day and early evening were tame, popular songs and family orientated. The late evening shows were geared to couples and a little more provocative. The costumes in particular, a lot more skin showing in my evening costumes that is for sure.

Early on we found out we didn’t really have anybody for makeup and hair styling. All of the females could do their own makeup but to do all of the saloon entertainers and workers was over their head. Greta spent a couple of days in the nearest larger town looking for a solution. At the Turnabout Gurl Salon she talked with the manager and later the CEO of the company making arrangements for someone to come to our town each day and perform the needed services. That way their stylists could each get some time to enjoy the Wild West town and also get paid for doing it. I still had to lose the male figure, since my role was as a female saloon singer.

That was arranged for at their salon, two days to get rid of any masculinity and develop my feminine image. Removal of all my body hair was first, followed by work on my fingernails. Extensions were added and way too many coats of polish added, the end result most feminine and obviously visible to everyone. Extensions were added to my shoulder length hair, now cascading nearly to my waist. Curled and piled on top of my head, ribbons to match my dresses added to make the style more eye catching. Of course pierced ears, usually large hoops in a gold finish with small diamonds adorning the bottom curve of the hoops.

Then we have the addition of breasts, sucked from my body and way too large in my opinion. I was informed the size was necessary to make my dresses look right. Yeah tell me another one. I was so wrapped up in what they were doing to junior, that I ended up with the large breasts, along with a cute slit, just like the one Greta has on her body. A wicked corset came next, forcing flab from my waist to my hips and chest. Then I found out the corset had a panel that covered the laces, keeping me from getting out of the corset. For the first two weeks I was in the corset 24/7 so that my middle section would form and retain a feminine shape. I began to look forward to my daily bath, the only time I received a few moments respite from the corset. High heels were mandatory, since they helped shape my calves, making them look sexy.

It was a whirlwind of activity those two days, I don’t remember a lot, but my image as I left at the end of the second day was not anyways masculine. When Greta greeted me as I was coming into our house she gasped and promptly led me away. I never did get dinner that night, I knew I needed to lose a few pounds, but starvation was not my preferred means of losing the poundage. Of course, the exercise I received that night would probably help with the weight loss. I am told you can burn a lot of calories moaning and groaning.

I did sleep well that night, once the sexual activities ceased since I was way past the pooped stage. Maybe not from physical activity, but from stress, stress of losing all of my masculinity, now I was as pretty as Greta, that in her own words. I do remember some of the kisses, and my lack of getting an adequate amount of air into my lungs. Most of the night I felt like I had run a marathon, and finished dead last.

What I do remember from that night was wonderful, still not sure if it is reality or just part of a dream. I did have a smile on my face the next morning until I got up and looked in the mirror. I was a mess, hair disheveled and makeup smeared all over my face and neck. I am not sure if the makeup was Greta’s or mine but I just considered the mess an occupational handicap of my apparent new career.

Today was going to be another salon day, any remaining masculinity to be done away with. I was delivered to the salon by Greta, thus having no way to escape my feminizing treatments. They indeed did away with it, when Greta picked me up, all that was left was Kitty, the new saloon singer. Unbeknownst to me they had scheduled a full dress rehearsal that Saturday night for the press and selected members of some of the travel agencies. When Greta pulled in behind the saloon I had a lot of bad feelings rise to the surface. I kept quiet, I knew this meant a lot to the others, we had all stuck our neck out hoping for it be the right move. I was helped into my late night costume, perfumed and led to the saloon stage. The rest of my body already prepared for the show at the beauty salon.

I was a bundle of nerves, dressing as a female one thing, but performing some sexy songs as one in front of a lot of people quite different. Greta approached, hugged me and made lip contact. It was such a sensuous kiss, lasting forever. I doubt I could tell you my name afterward, my mind suddenly all gooey. I was led out onto the stage and introduced as Kitty La Chatte. I had no idea where that name came from, but since everyone seemed to be aware of it I presume it was planned in advance. I stepped up to my spot on the stage as the music started. Luckily I did remember the lyrics to the songs as I went through the evening show for my audience.

Quite often when I sing I close my eyes, the words of the song just emerging from my lips. I try to feel the emotion of the song, my voice trying to express that feeling as I sing. Also a way for me to cope with being in front of a crowd. According to Greta, me feeling the emotion of the song is what makes me a perfect choice for their saloon singer.

After my last song there was quiet, then thunderous applause. Several people came on stage wanting to know a little about me and get some pictures for their articles. Greta and Justine ended up saving me by coming and talking to them. My male gender was left out of any conversations but I swear they took a thousand pictures of me. I just stood there smiling, lost in thought and unable to say anything. I had no idea any of this would happen, now wondering how it would affect me and Greta. Finally they were satisfied promising a full page article about our venue and particularly about me in the Sunday paper. Success for the venue probably, but I am not sure how this will play out for me.

I was worn out and frazzled, so I headed home. Greta and the governing committee were in a meeting discussing what had happened tonight. I removed my costume, took a shower that I almost fell asleep in, then crawled under the covers. Instantly I was asleep, not hearing anything until the alarm the next morning. I awoke to a warm body cuddling my new female form, something I could get used to. I got a sensuous kiss, and Greta left to get the paper from the front porch. I had finished using the bathroom, putting on the robe left at the end of the bed presumably for me. I heard a squeal, then Greta came running in. At the same time our doorbell started, somebody was very anxious to have it opened. Greta laid the paper down on the bed, opened to a full page picture of me in costume. I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, almost missing the edge and ending up on the floor.

Greta showed up with Justine in tow, I blushed at being seen in a nightie and a quite feminine looking robe. Justine ran to me and hugged the living daylights out of me, repeatedly kissing my face and thanking me. According to her the inquiries at our website were off the chart, people wanting to know when we going to open and if they could get tickets to the show. Justine’s husband was trying to answer as many inquiries as possible since he is the one that had set-up the website. Justine telling Greta they had an emergency meeting in a few minutes, where they were going to try and figure out how to proceed.

Greta got dressed and left me alone in the house in just my nightie. I managed to find some fruit to eat, still remembering how tight the corset was yesterday to allow me to fit in my dress. I decided on a soak in a warm bath, to let my worries melt away. I used some of her bath salts emerging smelling like a field of flowers, a very fragrant field of flowers. I most likely used way too much bath salts, but I did smell good.

I dressed in a blouse and a pair of shorts, most of my male clothes no longer fitting over the adornments on my chest and hips. Two hours later that is where Greta found me curled up on a chair on our patio. She sat next to me, with a piece of paper in front of her. I presumed what they had decided in their hastily called meeting.

Several people who penned articles about the venue said it was shame that there were not girls who would dance with the customers like in the old west, a natural fit to our little slice of the time. So they decided to offer dancing in the saloons in between the shows. A ticket could be purchased for a dance with one of the girls, good for two songs. Then a photographer would be available to take a picture of the twosome, offering prints as a reminder of the occasion. It would be mainly aimed at the guys, since dancing with a busty saloon girl would probably appeal to any red blooded male. To make sure that things were kept to dancing only, the guys doing the gun fighting would be on the dance floor as chaperons. If a wife of a guy that was dancing with a saloon girl wanted to dance he would be available for her. No tickets necessary for a dance with him.

To accommodate the dancing they were going to do less shows, the few shows that remained would last a little longer. I was happy about that, but not when I found out I would be included in the girls available for dancing. My tickets would cost more of course, since I was the star of the show.

One show in the afternoon for the families, two in the evening for couples or singles only. That was two less than originally planned, a plus for me, except for the added dancing. I was not eager to be held by some male as he led me around the dance floor. I could see the possibility for more revenue, but at my expense. I finally relented, a lot was riding on this venture, I was not going to be the reason it stuttered or failed.

So now along with everything else I was given a crash course in dancing as a female. Of course a lot of the husbands volunteered to be my dance partner, I never realized how grabby a male can be with his hands. I did make it through the dance lessons, ending up dancing with every male in the group at one time or the other.

Some were quite good dancers, I enjoyed them the most, being swirled around the dance floor in my skirts quite pleasurable. Then after a long day back to our house and seen to by Greta. By the time I got to sleep it had been a very long day. Such is the life of a saloon singer in the old west.

The first week was pure torture, all of these things to get used to, plus doing my act three to four times a day. By the second week I was getting used to things some, the heels not bothering me as much and actually able to take in some normal breaths from time to time while encased in the corset.

I was told of several people that I had to avoid, since she will not tolerate me flirting with certain males of the group. If I didn’t behave she would see that a chastity belt is purchased for me and utilized. That said with quite a bit of giggling involved.

My male life soon vanished, in costume for much of the day and doing the three shows a day. The concept was a success, we had hefty crowds most of the time, the saloon shows however the most popular. It was decided to add to the saloons space, closing nearby stores to allow for a bigger audience. Then adding back in one of the deleted shows a month later.

So now I was doing four shows a day, slightly shorter, but still over ninety minutes long. They did close the saloons on Sunday and Wednesday, although the wild west town was still open for visitors. That mainly due too preserving my voice, seven days a week very hard on the vocal chords.

The favorite shows for me were the ones geared toward the family, the kids in attendance fun to sing to, quite often they would sing along with me, if they knew the words. Several of those shows would end up near the two hour mark in length.

The last show of the night I often was super naughty. It was set up where I would sing to the males, often sitting on their lap singing to them my hands in their hair or playing with their ears. Of course, the male would blush, especially if his spouse was at the same table. If the wife or girlfriend was enjoying me toying with their spouse, I would wink at them and plant a kiss on the males cheek, the lipstick mark quite visible due to my red lipstick. Of course, a picture at that time snapped to preserve the moment. You would not believe the amount of photos we sold taken that way.

My life did change, now dressed as a female all the time, even on my two days off my feminine figure requiring female fashions to be worn. I got to where I enjoyed the dancing as much as singing. Three times the price of dancing with me was raised, each time no complaints from the customers, even if they had visited us before. One thing I did not expect is the hundreds of photos of me that were sold each day, although being pestered to autograph each one was getting out of hand. Soon the photos were offered with my autograph on them already, a much more satisfactory solution for me.

Greta and I actually became closer if that is even possible. Each day I had to work I was escorted to and from the town by her, kissed sensuously and then hugged hard. When dancing she kept a close eye on me making sure my dance partners were keeping their hands where allowed.

At home I was spoiled rotten, with her catering to my every whim. I was not very demanding, to be cuddled, kissed and hugged more than enough for me. Junior was never released, Greta and I making love as two females. In a way I found that to be more enjoyable, on the bottom and being made love to. I often had several orgasms, after sex having to use a tampon or take a bath to keep the sticky liquid from running down my legs. I never got to sleep till the early morning hours, having to work until one in the morning then being seen to by Greta until several hours later.

Looking back I am amazed at how easily I fitted into the role, from my being caught singing with our friends to on stage dressed in all of my feminine finery and belting out songs to the crowd. Kitty is the saloon singer of our little town, a true Gurl Of The Old West.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca