Suzi: Dress Code Surprise

Suzi: Dress Code Surprise

I have been with the company for six years, having first joined their ranks right after I graduated college. I worked myself up through the company through a lot of hard work and persistence. The business started out selling hair care products, back when that segment of the economy was gaining in popularity. Now we sell a full range of beauty products both for the female and the male including several lines of cosmetics.

Males and females trying to make progress in the business world are realizing how important appearance is in achieving their goals. It started mainly with females, as more ladies challenged the glass ceiling that had been in effect for years. What they ran into was a version of good ole boys club. Now appearance and who you know and were friends with got you promoted, how you did your job was no longer a primary consideration.

The females in the workforce watched the males protect their turf by promoting and advancing males to any upper level job, whether they were qualified or not. Well if it works for the male it will work for the distaff side of the gender as well.

Like their counterparts when a female got promoted she looked to her fellow females when another position came up for filling. It caught on and soon the females had made a considerable sized beachhead and were adding to their ranks daily. Of course, the males seeing what was happening decided they better get their act together, before they too fell to the ever growing amount of female oriented employers.

In companies where the males still held the top positions, new rules and guidelines were passed making it more difficult for the female to stay working for the company. One of their favorite weapons was the dress code. By making the rules for what one could wear to the office more stringent a lot of female employees decided it was not worth the aggravation and quit, exactly what the males desired. Then some employees decided to challenge the dress codes in court, mainly on the pretext that one group of employees could not be singled out to wear a certain type of apparel. The courts backed them up and soon dress codes were made universal, applying to all employees of the business no matter what gender or age.

In the case of our company we had went through all of these scenarios, five different dress codes over the last six years. We had one in effect now, but it was worded very loosely with no one bothering to enforce any part of it. That all changed on the first of July, 2000.

I was one of the first employees to get to work that day, just my nature, not because I had stuff to do or wanted to get ahead. I had trouble signing in so I could access my email and then get to work. Fifteen minutes later I managed to get signed in and the first email was about a new dress code.

Okay, here we go again, then I saw the previous email. Our main competition announcing that our company has been bought out by them effective six A.M. this morning. Not the best way to find out about your company being bought out.

Our top level management have been replaced or resigned, their management team now in charge. It was signed S. Townsend CEO of Beautiful Female You Inc., apparently our new business name. I was worried since I had just been promoted a year ago to buy and manage the several cosmetic lines we were carrying. I checked with the couple of coworkers that had showed up, they were just as shocked as I was. Natalie my cubicle mate had been reading the dress code email, giggling away at its contents. She had been here as long as I had, so had been through the previous dress codes and their eventual demise. With the smirk of all smirks on her face she suggested that I might want to take a look at the email about the dress code more closely.

I opened up the email and read the first three paragraphs and laid my head on the desk and groaned. It contents was aimed at any males that might be working for the new company listing the new dress code for all employees. The all was underlined, with a short sentence following having the dress code going into effect July third at opening of business eight A.M. EST. Any employee failing to comply will be dismissed immediately for cause.

The dress code was very specific; skirts or dresses were to be worn at all times, blouses that buttoned up the back only, heels of at least four inches worn over seamed stockings, mascara and lipstick at all times applied over a suitable foundation, and two sets of pierced earrings, one set of studs and one set of dangle earrings that came at least two inches lower than the bottom of the earlobe. Hair was to be highlighted, and in a curly hairstyle not hindered by any scrunchie, barrette, or any other type of hair accessory. Hair length was to be at least to the shoulder blades, although longer is favored and allowed.

The last line of the code was in bold print. Panties and bras are required, at all times, the bra to be underwired or the push me up style and the panties to be thongs. This will keep reminding us that we are female, beautiful females and of what we sell to help others attain their desires and wishes beauty wise. Then another paragraph of how important the appearance of our employees were to our customers, since Beautiful Female You is not only our name but our goal in life.

Since there were very few male employees left in the company, I doubt if the dress code will make much of a ripple on day to day business. I am sure a few females will be unhappy about a few of the rules but since they dress in variations of these items anyway, not something to get really upset about. I can imagine the talk around the company of the males that choose to remain and their first days in required dress code outfits. A sight to look forward to, that is for sure.

However, in my case the ripple is more like a tsunami. I locked my keyboard and headed to my bosses office. She apparently heard me coming down the hall calling me in before she could even see who it was. She pointed to the chair in front of her desk, now I wasn’t so sure about being here.

Before I could eek out a word she told me it does apply to you, nothing in particular that they are trying to achieve in your case. Ms. Townsend does want her buyers to reflect the company image, so you just happen to be in the right spot at the right time. Now to maybe ease the pain a little in your case she will adjust your salary to help offset the clothes, makeup and beauty services that you will have to have to comply. This is not being done for all males, so consider yourself privileged. Now do you have any more questions?

If not I suggest that you go to this salon and talk to Dallas today if possible. She can help you figure out if this is something you might want to follow through on and advise you on the procedures that are necessary. I was handed the card of the salon, then she waited to see if I had any questions. I just sat there, till she told me to get out, she had other more important things to do besides hold my hand. A huge smile appeared on her face, I managed to close my mouth and then left.

I worked another hour then decided I better see if the salon can help me. Ever since I received the email my mind was trying to decide, do I try and stay or just give up and start all over again? I was afraid that would be the case, starting over somewhere else and having to work myself back up to something worthwhile. The salon wasn’t that far away, but the trip seemed to be like trekking across the country. I tried to picture myself as a female, wearing dresses and makeup every day to do my job. I realized that a real female does this every day, none the worst for doing so. All of the images that managed to materialize in my mind were either comical or just plain laughable. But yet to keep my job I will have to go this route.

I had already heard just before I left the office that quite a few of my male colleagues had resigned, one look at the dress code and they folded. So either I comply or I too will be looking for another job. As I pulled up to the salon, my eyes just about bugged out. The salon was huge, almost as big as our big box grocery store in town. The solid glass front showed the placed crowded, with numerous examples of femininity everywhere you look. Lots of pink was seen, but the gals that worked there were the real show. Dressed in brief frilly dresses, with their hair piled on top of their head in curls they were easy to spot and admire. The place was packed, females everywhere you look. I walked up to their reception area, asked to see Dallas and the gal made a call, then sent me back to an office at the back of the salon. My head was swiveling right and left as I made my way back there.

About half way there, I noticed that a lot of the customers that I thought were female were actually males. A lot of them had their hair in curlers, or were getting their nails done, even some having makeup applied to their faces. In all cases they looked quite feminine, probably undetectable when they were finished. I almost walked past the office door, a taller female grabbing my arm as I was wandering by. She introduced herself and invited me into the office. She answered my first question without me asking it. Yes, ninety percent of the customers in the salon right now are male, but will be leaving the salon as a female. A few will still look a little masculine, their bodies even when feminized still a little too bulky to make a feminine impression. Most though easily pass as females, some of them working as such every day.

Now have a seat and tell me what can I do for you. I told her where I work, as soon as I mentioned the name she smiled. She reached into her top desk and pulled out a sheet with services and prices printed on it. She asked my name, then consulted another list of employees of my company. Sure enough I was on that list, so she marked the sheet with the prices as all services no charge. Apparently she knew of the changes to the dress code and my name was on a list of preferred employees of the company. I asked a little about the changes, Dallas telling me that I needed to go the route of semi-permanent changes since I will be living and working as a female if I stay with the company.

She confessed she was a product of the skills and procedures of the salon. “Do I look like a male in any way or form?” I sat there with my mouth open, wondering if I allowed this will I look as good as she does. In for a penny, in for a pound seemed reasonable so I opted for the works semi-permanent. My stomach was on edge though, my nerves strung tight and my hands sweaty as I uttered those words. They were able to take me right away, though I was not sure that was necessarily a good thing. Maybe I needed the time to think about this some more. I did call back to my boss, telling her I will not be back this afternoon, but will be in tomorrow morning fully dress code compliant.

Soon I was naked on a table in a treatment room and my body hair was being removed. They used a cream, after one application I would never again have any hair below my head. After I was smooth all over I realized how much difference just removing my body hair made in my appearance. I now looked like a flat chested female with something stuck in my groin.

That is where they headed next, my feet put in stirrups and spread wide. The tech working on me must have been quite experienced in getting rid of objects in a male’s groin area, for when I looked down there several minutes later it was gone. Glued back between my legs after my testicles were pushed up into my body. I felt her manipulating my male organ but that was it. A very realistic vulva was added over the top. Hairless, so as to match the rest of my body.

Before I could realize how much that one thing would affect me, she started working on my chest, adding two cups centered over my nipples and glued to my chest. Hoses were added to the cups and a pump was turned on causing some of my tissue to be pulled into the cups right away. The pump was persistent continually pulling tissue into the cups.

I closed my eyes and zoned out, thinking of how all of this is going to impact me in the following days. The first thought to stick in my brain was I now had to sit to urinate, that action never thought of when I was considering all of this. Then the biggie made it to my cerebral cortex. A male will want to stick something in it if given a chance. Maybe a chastity belt might be a good investment. I had dated a female back in college who wore one out of choice, not having to worry if a male got carried away during a date. Maybe she has something there. Having breasts the size of the cups glued to my chest was also disturbing. One look at them by an admirer and suddenly the lower orifice might be worth investigating.

They worked on my hair, my nails and ears then finished with a makeup job that definitely finished off any traces of masculinity I might have had. A basic wardrobe came with the works, mainly dresses, skirts, and blouses. Of course lingerie, a bra and pantie set the first item I put on after the hoses were removed from the cups on my chest. Six hours of sucking had produced some significant breast tissue, more than enough in my opinion. Of course, the tech told me that if I wanted larger hooters, the machine could produce some quite noteworthy appendages. Another look at my present size nestled in the cups of the bra and I think not.

After getting dressed in my first outfit, a flowery print sweater dress I thought that they had surpassed what they did for Dallas, I was just as pretty. A very sobering thought. I signed for my services upfront and then made my way out of the salon. I debated going home or returning to work and sticking my foot in the water. I knew I had lots to learn about being a female, and it seemed my only choice was on the job training. The salon mentioned classes but with my work there was very little opportunity to take them. I made my way home, since there was only an hour left before time to quit.

As I made my way into the office the next morning my boss grabbed my arm wanting to see what was accomplished. I got a serious hug, then she excused herself, she had to make a phone call right away, someone needs to see the new you now. I ventured on down to my office, sat in my chair and sighed. It was the same office, but things seemed so different. Looking out of my mascaraed eyes, seeing some of my hair as it swung alongside of my face made everything so surreal. Not much time to further my observations as my boss came barging in telling me that Ms. Townsend wanted to see me right away. Oh gawd no, after I stuck my neck out and got everything semi-permanent and now I will probably be let go. My boss dragged me to her office, I presume I couldn’t be trusted to find it myself. I was pushed into the room, as she made a hasty retreat to her own office.

I stood there not knowing what to say or do. Ms. Townsend turned around in her chair till she was facing me, then smiled.

I quickly sat down in the first available chair, my ex-girlfriend from college had such a smirk on her face. It was a few minutes before any brain function was possible. S. Townsend was short for Sally Townsend, only at the time she just went with Sally Holcomb. Townsend was her mother’s maiden name, a fact that I just now remembered.

She gave me a little time to compose myself, that smirk never leaving her face. I was asked if I had decided on a name yet, I whispered Suzi which caused quite a fit of giggling from Sally. She told me that she had just got off the phone with Dallas making sure I had made the right choices in my gender transformation. I will have to call back and compliment them on their work, you turned out much better than I had hoped for.

Now my mouth was hanging open, the brain managing to fit a couple of pieces together, figuring out that all of this was planned to get me in the right gender. Looking back the plan was well executed, everybody playing their part perfectly. I still had not managed any words other than what I thought my name should be. I was asked if I had plans for tonight, I shook my head no, then Sally came over and pulled me to my feet and leaned in close while she held my head in her hands. The kiss was slow and sensuous, my immediate reaction was it is getting really hot in here. I hesitated in responding to her kiss, but all of my inner feelings were telling me to give in, this feels so good. I opened my mouth and let her tongue in, the heat in the room almost too much. I swear I was dripping from just this encounter, nipples hard and my new vagina moist and twitching.

The kiss seemed to go on and on, but probably didn’t last more than ten minutes. We both broke off the kiss, needing air and something to drink. We did move to her sofa in the corner as she handed me a bottle of water from her mini fridge. She did take the time to explain her actions once she found out that the company she had just bought last night employed her former boyfriend.

“Ever since we parted in college, I have missed you just not in the female/ male relationship we tried. I often lay awake at night dreaming of you in lingerie cuddled up next to me in a baby doll nightie. Waking up to my love, then ravishing you till it was time to go to work. When I saw your name on the list of employees I went into action. The change in the dress code, forcing you to either change or be without a job. Both choices would make you vulnerable and maybe receptive to another tryst with me, but as a female.”

“Well my karma must be over the top, I get my female love again and you get to experience the world of females from now on. I hope you still want a relationship with me, I am never going to quit trying to make you see things my way. If you leave and I have to buy another company to get what I want I will do it, but it would be so much easier if you will just surrender and be my wife and soulmate. Okay time for the answer, but first a reminder of my love and lust for you.” I was laid back on the sofa and kissed like never before. I tried to say something to her, but my words were stifled by her tongue in my mouth. She let up for air and I screamed yes, and then pulled her tighter to me.

I will always remember that fateful dress code, actually it was only in effect for two days before it was rescinded. The reason for the dress code now handled. I stayed working for three months, but finally quit, the job during the day and my duties in the evening just too much for me to handle. I was hardly getting any sleep and it was getting increasingly difficult to squeeze in my salon appointments. I love Sally almost as much as I love my salon appointments. As a side note, I now own twenty one different baby doll negligees, but am always on the lookout for more.

I did save a copy of the original email about the dress code, folded up and kept in the bottom of my jewelry box. Something to treasure forever.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Loren; Dressing For Success

Loren; Dressing For Success

I had only been at this job for three months, I handled emails from customers seeking a specific product, not found in our catalog. It was my job to point out similar items that might be to their liking. Then research the item they requested finding out if it might fit our product mix. I had to find out who made the product, who was selling it, and the prices it was selling for. This information was then forwarded to my boss for consideration. I added to the return email that our company is considering adding the product, so be sure and get back with us in the near future.

I doubted that I accomplished much, my suggestions of similar items probably ignored by the customer. From my research most of the products that I looked up would not be viable as a product for us, their potential sales not enough to be worth adding the item to our warehouse. It is a simple job, not difficult, my typing skills though coming in very handy.

I learned typing in high school, my typing teacher constantly harping on me, forcing me to learn to type properly. As a result of her intervention my speed of eighty words a minute makes this job a breeze. I owe my typing teacher a debt of gratitude, a skill I didn’t want, that I use every day now.

The company has been making quite a few changes lately, leaving me a little worried for my continued employment. The lack of a strong economy and our diminishing sales had forced them to take the initiative and make a lot of drastic changes. I managed to survive the reduction of the work force, how that happened escapes me. Now they were focusing on changes to the workplace to make it a more enjoyable place to work, according to them.

They hoped that would increase productiveness and persuade well trained employees to stay with the company, saving them more money in the long run. Along with trying to make the employees more comfortable, they had increased the workload, asking each employee to accomplish quite a bit more in their job every day.

Of the fifteen hundred employees, over fourteen hundred are female. Except for a couple of males in the office, one of which is me, the other males all worked in the warehouse, shipping out the orders. Then one of our executives noticed that a lot of companies were splitting up their workers, forming smaller companies with groups of them then sub-contracting their services to the main company. This saved on benefits and gave the company another way of hiding some of the profits, something that was shrinking as the days went by.

So last week all of the male and female shipping employees were separated from the company forming a new entity that sub-contracted the shipping work. That left me and one other male working for the main business, along with thirteen hundred females. All of our executives were female, the one only other male a PA to the CEO of the company. The separation seemed to work out fine, things running smooth right from the start with no interruption.

I noticed a few days later that emails from our bosses tended to be more female oriented, conveniently forgetting the two males among the employees. Bathrooms on our floor of the office were being converted to ladies bathrooms, since the bulk of the employees were female now. In fact, I think they forgot completely about the two lowly males working for them. I know I had to use the one handicap restroom on the main floor, a twenty minute trek to get to it. There is nobody to complain to, my supervisors apparently oblivious to the one male working on the third floor.

Then a new CEO was hired in, I imagine to try and turn the company around. Rumors still had us in declining sales, with not much prospect of the situation getting better. Morale was at an all-time low, the new executive having her hands full from the start. She split up all of the employees into work groups, which held meetings daily to discuss work, areas to focus on and new ideas to get things back to normal.

The idea is a widely used concept in the orient, one that has done wonders for their companies. I was in a group with thirty females, all office workers on my floor. I attended the meetings, but tried to stay inconspicuous. Some of the ladies had some good ideas, they were tried and proved to be quite successful. The ideas were spread to the other work groups and soon there seemed to be a glimmer of hope that things might be turning around some.

My email that morning definitely got my attention. It was headed new dress code. I read with some apprehension that dresses or skirts and blouses were mandated for all employees of the company. No slacks, jeans, or pants were allowed anymore. The change in dress code is to make the office more professional, and establish some working standards that are sorely needed. To ease the financial burden that this might place on some of the employees, a local company has agreed to furnish three complete outfits per employee at no charge, in exchange for some advertising in our catalog and merchandise that they could use in their business.

At the bottom of the email is our individual appointment times to be measured and fitted with our outfits. I swallowed hard, mine is tomorrow morning at eight A.M. I tried to get a hold of my immediate supervisor, this can’t be happening to me. It was a few minutes after quitting time when she eventually called me back, telling me to come to her office as I was leaving the building. I finished closing down my computer, gathered my things and headed to her office.

As I entered her office, she gave me a questioning look, asking me where I worked. I told her that I had just phoned her about the dress code, wanting to know if it applied to me. She asked my name, as I was spelling it for her she typed it into her computer. She repeated it as the info came up on her screen, then listed the info on the file. “Loren Davidson, hired 3/15/2016, email specialist, age 27, unmarried, female.”

I caught my breath suddenly at the last word out of her mouth. “Did you say female just now?” She stared at the screen again, then looked my way. “Yes, you are a single female employee of this company. As to the question about the dress code affecting you. Yes it does, failure to follow the dress code can lead to termination if you fail to follow the published guide lines.”

I tried to point out that I am a male employee, not a female, but she reiterated that the personnel file is correct, and I should attend my clothing appointment in the morning as scheduled. “Now I have other matters to attend to, I will see you after lunch, when you return from your fitting. You should be properly attired as to the terms of the new dress code or I will have to send you home without pay.”

I was in a daze as I made my way to my car. “The company thinks that I am a female, how in the hell am I going to get them to see that I am a male.” One look in the rear view mirror confirmed my predicament. The face and head looked slightly female, with my hair in a high ponytail and some wisps of hair on my forehead like I had bangs, it would not be impossible for somebody to presume that I was a female.

I have dressed fairly masculine since I was hired, pants and polo shirts most days. I have no breasts, in fact, my figure is fairly straight up and down no matter which angle you view me from. My beard is light, but in the afternoon you can definitely see a beard shadow, a definite sign that the employee is male.

I tried to put together how I had been classified as a female on my personnel file. A clerical error, is the only explanation I could come up with. Now I had to decide if I am going to attend the appointment in the morning or face the reality of losing my job. This job had been hard enough to find, I imagine finding a replacement would be almost impossible. Being fired would only add to the problems, so I tried to find some reasons to persuade myself to swallow my pride and show up dressed as a female tomorrow at work.

I fretted about my situation most of the evening, then decided to see where I had to go to get my outfits tomorrow. I had printed the email when it arrived in my inbox. Even when I received the email, I had the feeling in my gut that I would not be able to escape this cruel fate. The name of the place is the Turnabout Gurl Salon, a beauty salon and clothing boutique. The address was another bad omen, only two blocks from our corporate headquarters.

Nothing transpired the rest of the evening to stay my execution the next morning. No phone calls wanting me to be somewhere else tomorrow, no last minute pardon from higher up. Somehow I managed to get asleep, but the dreams left me with an extremely upset stomach the next morning. I skipped breakfast, I am sure anything I ate would not stay down long. The email told all employees to only wear some workout clothes, since the clothing furnished would be business appropriate for use after the appointment.

My stomach doing flip flops as I got up out of bed. I finally ended up leaving last night’s meal in my bathroom, my nerves were on edge and I couldn’t relax. I finally had to leave for the salon, to be able to keep the appointment. I had thought about not going, but my bosses words kept playing through my mind as I left my home. I needed the job too much, too chicken to stand up to them, then have to find another job. I guess the main problem now is how to correct my gender status on my personnel file.

I parked and slowly made my way to the door. After swallowing hard I let out a big sigh and entered the salon. “I am Loren Davidson and I have an appointment this morning made by my employer.” She checked her computer, then found my name and told me someone will be right up to get me. A few minutes later Beth appeared and took my hand to lead me to the back. She had given me a quick head to toe look as she approached me, so I am sure she realizes that I am a male.

In an office in the back of the salon I am shown to a chair in front of an absolutely gorgeous woman. She is talking on the phone to someone, although she stands to shake my hand. I wasn’t trying to listen to her conversation, but when my name got brought up, my ears also perked up. “Yes I am sure, Loren is a male and you have him listed as a female. I know things are chaotic over there, but since when do your executives fail to notice the difference between a male and a female. Surely your eyesight is not that bad.” She listens to the response, then tells them she will handle the problem, but there better not be any fall out because of this. She promptly hangs up, then comes around and hugs me like my Mom used to do. She grabs my hand and leads me to a sofa against the far wall. After I set down, she sits right next to me.

“Well Loren it seems we need to have a talk and try and resolve this little problem. First off I need to know a lot about you, when you started with the company and what you want to do with your life. I need the truth, so that I can properly advise you in what your options are. There is a lot more to this than what appears on the surface, especially concerning you. So we have all morning, so let’s get talking.”

I stared at her, she seems so friendly, but wanting to hear my story seems a little much. I hesitate, trying to think of what to do. She grabs my hand, squeezes it some, and then holds it in her lap. I break down and tell her all about me, how I got the job, and what I do for the company. She never interrupts, but listens carefully to everything I say. I do find out that her name is Dallas, the COO of the Turnabout Gurl Salon. She is in town checking on other businesses for the owner of the salons. Forty minutes later I am talked out, and visibly relax into the sofa. I didn’t realize how tense I was as I gave her my history.

She gets up, goes to her computer, and starts typing. As she is waiting for a response, Beth gets us something to drink, and then asks if she can get some measurements while we wait. I hoped that would not be necessary, that the problem could be straightened out, but eventually let out a big sigh, telling her to go ahead. I am stood up, and Beth measures me in all the necessary spots, writing the figures on a pad. Dallas’s computer pings and she reads the response to her question. Beth is told to go ahead and get some things picked out, and also arrange for a full temporary transformation for me. Beth leaves and Dallas comes to sit next to me again.

“Let me explain what has happened and my recommendation to handle the problem that it has caused. When your male workers were separated into a separate company, the parent company applied and received outside funding for a female owned and run business. That means that all employees of your company are supposed to be female. Your records and one other individual were shown as female, even though both of you are of the male gender. We will presume someone in personnel did the changing of the records, but of course no one is admitting guilt or why it was done.”

“Since the funding stated that all employees are female, you and this other individual either have to appear as female in the workplace or you have to be let go. They have already accepted and used part of the money, so they have no recourse now. I have already handled the other male employee, and I suggest the same for you. He has agreed to present as a female for the future, in exchange for better benefits and a salaried position. All of his transformation costs and clothing will be paid by me, in exchange I get that same sum of money in advertising and merchandise thru your companies catalog. I am alright with that arrangement, so from my standpoint we have no problem.”

“I take it that you have not spent any time as a female in your life, so I suggest that we do a temporary transformation for you, along with a wardrobe sufficient for a week or two. Spend the time exploring whether you can live with this, then come back and we will talk some more about the future. Before you turn this down, you will be promoted to your boss’s job, and be paid a salary instead of an hourly rate. The salary is equal to three times you annual earnings, so take some time to think it over. If I may suggest that you join Beth in our dining room, where we will order you some early lunch. When and if you decide let her know and we can either start or I can notify the company of your refusal to participate. I think you will find the experience enlightening and well worth the time and effort.” I get a hug from Dallas as Beth reaches out her hand to lead me away.

Beth then led me to another room, much larger with a refrigerator, sinks and a microwave. Among a group of tables scattered around the room, a table in the corner already has some food on it and this is where she took me. There was a delicious looking salad with several different dressings, fruit slices with another sweeter type of sauce and then some cookies, they didn’t look low in calories, but the way I drool over cookies I soon tried one of them. I closed my eyes, I couldn’t believe how good they tasted. I was letting out a low moan, Beth giggling at my actions. I was good, taking some salad, then some fruit, then at least one of each type of cookie. With my appetite somewhat sated I asked her some questions.

“I presume you can handle the transformation, but I know nothing about being a female, I don’t even pay much attention to them, how am I to learn to act and talk like one.” Beth smiled, that is something we can also handle. “We offer classes for all our customers to teach them anything they are not comfortable with. The classes are offered after work, so they will not interfere with your job. Most of the instruction is one to one, so you learn fast, and we then reinforce the instruction so that you get in the habit of acting female at all times.”

I took in a large breath, trying to relax some. “I will give it a try, I am not really sure about this and am extremely nervous about this decision.” I received a hug, and then am hustled off to a treatment room to start the process. I am sure Beth could feel my body shaking as she led me to the private room to start my transformation. When we got there I did start crying, all of this too much, too soon, and way outside anything I am even remotely used to. I am hugged and held in her embrace until I calm down a little. I seldom cry, the death of my father the only other time I have shed tears in my life.

She helps me undress, then helps me up onto a table. Before I know what is happening she is spreading a cream over my front side, not missing any areas. Even my male appendage is covered, although the cream had no effect on him. I am sure he is shrunk in fear of what may happen to him. After the cream has been on for twenty minutes, she wipes it off with a damp cloth, removing all of my body hair with it. “If you use the cream again your hair will not regrow after that. A lot of our customers like that aspect of its use, even if they do not dress feminine all the time.”

I am turned over, my back side handled in the same manner. After the last of my body hair is wiped from my body I am again turned over and she approaches my face. “Do you want your beard area treated also, or do you want to shave close every day to perpetuate your change to the fairer sex?”

I didn’t have to think long on that question, I absolutely hated shaving every day. “Please remove every last hair, I so despise shaving I will forever be in your debt if you can arrange that feat.” The cream is applied all over my face, then also my eyebrows. It is left on much longer, almost an hour transpired before she removed the cream and my facial hair.

During that time she worked on my nails, shaping them, removing any cuticles and then adding extensions. She did ask if I could handle the length when I typed. “I think so, it may take me a day or two to adjust but I think I can manage that task.” When she quit applying coats of nail polish my elegant nails had a shiny pink gloss to them and looked so feminine. My fingers were treated under a UV light between each coat of polish, Beth telling me that made the polish more secure, soaking in acetone the only way to remove the polish now.

She obtained my choice of diet drinks, then handed me a robe to wear for a while. My hair is the target next, her shampooing and conditioning the first step in its treatment. After that is handled, she put a towel wrapped around my head and showed me some pictures of me with different hairstyles and colors of hair. I pointed to one that after thinking about it for a minute maybe was the wrong choice. It was so feminine, the color a very light blonde, with tons of ringlet curls. I pointed to it because it looked so attractive, but then after a few minutes thought, I realized I would be the one inside of those curls. I realized it was too late to change my mind, as she was adding a foul smelling mixture to my hair strands.

After the hair color is rinsed thirty minutes later, she puts a multitude of curlers in my hair, I can feel each curler as she rolls up the hair. A dryer is positioned above me, and turned on. I am allowed to sit there while my hair is drying, a respite for a while. I can see my image from a mirror across the room, very little masculinity apparent in the image. When the hair is dry, the dryer is removed and she helps me slip off the robe.

Back on the table, flat on my back, curlers still in my hair, two wobbling masses are placed on my chest and positioned for the best effect. I am genuinely surprised at the weight, never aware of what a female carries around with her. As Beth is marking the placement they wiggle, and jiggle, almost never staying still. In an almost whisper, “Are they going to be like that on my body, can’t I remove them when I am at home, at least?”

Beth is giggling away, “A bra helps considerably, a must with larger cup sizes like these. You do eventually get used to the movement of them, I suggest a bra 24/7 until you become accustomed to them. I will be gluing them on, so you will not be able to remove them when you want. After you get a feel for what it is like to be a female, removing them for a while might be an option for you.”

“Since you are a female in the company’s eyes, it will be necessary to live like one for the near future. I think you might like the life, from what you have told us, you fit more in with the female sex than as a male. Give it a couple of weeks before you decide if this is the life for you, and then we can go from there. The money and promotion offered to you should not be turned down until you see what it is like to be female.”

Your penis is tucked away behind a false vagina, a necessity according to Beth if the authorities check the company for deceit in applying for the funds. Since some records were altered by their personnel department, a real possibility when an audit is performed. The fact that the sex was changed, but nothing else might raise red flags with the governing agency. Beth assured me that only a cursory examination is performed, not an actual strip and show. If the rest of the disguise shows no signs of anything other than a female, they usually stop there. Government agencies can be a stickler when money is involved. A masculine erection a dead giveaway of some possible deceit.

I asked about the other male in the company, Beth just smiled. “There is one employee, works in the executive offices that showed a few signs of masculinity, but after we outfitted her with the new clothes there is no doubt about her gender. However, she will never be as pretty and beautiful as you.” I can’t believe that statement, I had seen the PA several times in the halls in the past few days, he definitely showed very few signs of masculinity, almost pretty even if he is a male.

Laying there on the table, jiggling mounds on my chest, and now a void between my legs. I wanted to feel down there, to make sure Beth hadn’t managed to remove it somehow. Yeah, a very stupid thought, but looking at my groin, I wondered what she did with it. I guess Beth also mind reads, as she takes my hand and places it on my new female slit. “Slip your finger inside the slit, and probe to the back and down some, you can feel a lump and at the end at very erotic area. That is your new clit, the gateway to female ecstasy.” I was moving my finger as she directed and then I hit the spot, my new clit, suddenly I couldn’t get a breath, my body almost convulsing.

It took me quite a while to recover, that single moment will be etched in my mind for quite a while. All of a sudden this crazy disguise might not be such a bad idea. I closed my eyes letting my mind wander as Beth started working on me again. I heard her giggle a little though when I found my point of ecstasy. The sting in my right ear, interrupted my thoughts, but before I could figure out what is going on another sting was felt, presumably I now can wear two earrings in my ear. Then to my astonishment she repeated the process again, but for my other ear. A fact that I am now capable of wearing pierced earrings, a long wanted wish of mine, not.

My hair was removed from the curlers, then brush into a style. It was feminine, but not in excess. I was made to style the hair myself, since I would have to recreate the style every morning. Next came the makeup and the same instruction for doing it myself.

I was taken next door, to get my clothes for the next few weeks, the size of their clothing store taking my breath away. How would any woman be able to make a choice from this kind of selection? Beth coordinated my choices so that from each three items I would have other combinations also that I could wear. Loaded with bags of clothes and the necessary undergarments, in my newly dress code approved style for today I made my way back to the office.

I left my other things in the car, swallowed hard and tried to find the nerve to enter and find my old supervisor. She had been promoted too, I found her in her new office one floor up from where I worked. As I entered her office she acknowledged me, her attitude seeming to have changed. She approved of my new look, then changed the subject to my new job. Due to the cutbacks I would still be doing what I did before, just having the added responsibility of my fellow co-workers added to my job. The one good thing was I now had my own office.

I somehow managed to find my new office, settled in and started on the huge workload that had accumulated while I was changing sex. The longer nails proved to not be a problem, after thirty minutes I was typing without much difficulty. Several of my new responsibilities showed up wanting help on what to do with a problem they had encountered. I spent the next two hours seeing to my new charges, answering questions and giving them guidance in their individual projects. Then back to my work, as I set back down at my desk the pile seemed to have grown, I spent until six that night handling as much of the work as possible, cleaned up and then headed home.

On the way I thought of all that had happened, wondering why I allowed it to be implemented. I never did come to any conclusions, every minute things seemed easier to accept, not as foreign as when they were first done to me. By the time I reached my first destination I had forgot about the breasts on my chest and the long nails on my hands covered with polish. They were there, I could feel them but they no longer caused me any distress. I was female and that is what came with the package.

I didn’t feel like cooking, actually in my case that would be warming up something previously frozen. So I stuck my neck way out and stopped at a neighborhood restaurant to get something to eat. Looking at the menu the steaks looked good, but another look at my clothes, maybe not such a good idea. I settled for a broiled chicken salad, which turned out to be quite good.

I did finally make it home, taking all my new clothes in and finding a spot to hang them Beth had insisted they be hung tonight so that any wrinkles would have a chance to fall out before morning.

I sat in front of my computer at home, looking at a blank screen, my mind wandering off somewhere, thinking of the day’s activities. One day and now I was a female, the changes that were made while not being permanent would require me to live the female role for the near future. I did manage to survive the day, maybe this could be done.

I did like the idea of more money, but remembering the price tags when Beth helped me pick out my clothes, a lot of my new found income would end up being spent on clothes and makeup. I gave up looking at the blank screen, turned off the computer and headed to bed. I undressed hanging up my clothes as instructed earlier. I reached into the last bag, pulling the thin lacy nightie out, handling it like it would bite me if I was not careful.

As it slid down over my shoulders and breasts, a million sensations suddenly sprouted wings causing all kinds of feelings to attack my body. I was tempted to take if off quickly, but it had already made such an impact on me that my body resisted the urge with all of its being. I hugged myself, the sheer material and the lace trim sending thousands of feelings to my overworked mind. I finally laid down in bed, and pulled the sheet over me, trying to keep all the good feelings trapped and unable to escape. I guess I drifted off to sleep, the alarm the next morning waking me from a most restful and pleasant night.

I woke severally disoriented, the nightie rubbing against my body brought all of yesterdays activities back into focus. Then we have the problem of me re-creating what the salon did yesterday. It took me much longer to get ready for work but I managed somehow. The trip into work was a non-event, although I did worry about being stopped by a policeman. I can imagine my possible explanation and the laughs it might create. I did make it only a few minutes late. I had several of my new subordinates waiting for some guidance so that was the first thing I handled. Then I started on my workload, which by the size of the pile had grown exponentially overnight.

I had skipped breakfast, something I never did in the past but the fit of my clothes and how they looked on me made the sacrifice worth it. By lunch I had managed to whittle the pile down to just a few tasks, something I was very proud of. One of the company executives came into my office just before lunchtime, closed my office door and sat down in front of my desk. In my old position I didn’t have an office and no chair in front of my desk. I feared the worse immediately, maybe my good fortune had already run out.

Her name was Delia, and she was COO of the company. She seemed all business, very prim and proper and focused on what she was here for. “It has come to my attention, of a few things that has transpired concerning your employment. None of the things that you have had to experience were meant to be, circumstances and a lack of communication causing most of the trouble. What caught my attention was how you have handled the situation. In the past we have had trouble with the department that you have been assigned to. None of the trouble concerning you, but your work associates. Since you have replaced the former head of the department it has suddenly stopped. I and many others never placed the blame where it belonged, thinking it was just the employees that were the source of the trouble.

Well our eyes are now open and I am proud of your achievements since you have taken over. I have followed your employment here, for quite some time. Since the change you have fulfilled one of my fondest wishes. As I was looking over your personnel file and your past achievements I noticed a few discrepancies. On further investigation I discovered even more. I ended making a call to the salon where you were outfitted with your current clothing and the whole ugly scenario came to light. I was curious since my PA is the other male who was changed to the female sex. A lot of mistakes made by previous management has caused the situation we are in now.

Unfortunately I can’t tell you that a change back to the male sex is possible and stay employed with us, but maybe I can make it a little easier to accept and live with. I have another position available for you, it is related to what you have done in the past, just more involved. It is another salaried position but requires quite a lot of contact outside the company. It is as head buyer, where you will analyze data given to you and decide whether we should handle the product. If the decision is yes you will see to its addition to the inventory and its projected inventory level. You will only report to me, as far as executives are concerned and I expect you to look nice and represent the company to the best of your ability. I am sure a twice weekly appointment at the salon will be necessary and the company will handle any and all expenditures for beauty services and wardrobe.

Now do we have a deal or do I need to try and find someone else. I swallowed hard and started a response several times to find that my voice had suddenly left me. I did manage to get out the word yes, and was pulled into a hug as she came around the desk and pulled me from my chair. Oh one last condition and it is a big one, I need you to go to dinner with me at least twice a week, so some evening gowns and dressier dresses are to be a necessity. She leaned over to my face and carefully pulled me closer to her then kissed me on the lips, I lost track of everything at that point, as my mind melted. The kiss went on and on, till she pulled back and suggested that I leave early today and pick out something nice to wear tonight. One more shorter kiss and she returned to her office leaving me standing there mouth open with a huge smile on my face. Oh, did I mention my lipstick was smeared real good, necessitating a quick repair before I closed up my computer and headed out to shop.

I sat back down in my chair, coherent thoughts were impossible at this point. Then like a regular female I opened my purse and withdrew my compact to check my appearance. I laid it down and called the salon to get an appointment so that I would look my best. I grabbed my purse and headed for the salon. I wonder what style of evening gown to purchase, but knew the experts at the salon would be able to help me. This whole thing of dressing for success was definitely the right way to go. I wonder if it was just an accident that I ended up as a female or if it was planned. Only time will tell, either way I am very thankful.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Babykins; My Contribution To The Family

Babykins; My Contribution To The Family

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

 Anastasia; Life As A Debutante

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca