Elizabeth: A Turnabout Gurl
Courtney was
bouncing around as she came through the front door. We were a couple,
six years committed to each other, three of those years living
together. I was still in college, in my last semester to get my
Master’s degree. She had finished her Bachelor’s degree a year
ago, and was working as a receptionist in a beauty salon.
The old adage
that once you get a degree, you have your choice of jobs, is a bunch
of bull! The reality is that you have an education, one that doesn’t
do you any good. Her degree in business management, did not open any
doors, in fact, in a few instances, they just laughed at her. She
spent six months looking for a job in her chosen field, then after
that, she decided that any job would be alright.
Her job at the
beauty salon was a chance encounter, she had to get her hair cut so
she used the salon, while there, she saw the sign for the job, and
asked about it. The salon manager interviewed her on the spot, and
she was offered the job. It actually is a fairly decent job, the
receptionist title a little misleading. She handles all of the
appointments, runs the register, orders supplies, does the daily
books for the salon, and generally makes sure the customers are happy
with their services. If a dispute arises, she handles it, making any
concessions necessary to make sure that the customer is satisfied.
It is not unusual
for her to come bouncing into the apartment, just her nature, but
tonight, she seems extra wound up. I had been in the living room
working on my Master’s thesis, when she plopped herself down on my
lap and twisted her bum on my groin, in an effort to get me attuned
to her presence. Believe me I was attuned.
I looked into her
eyes, “Okay you have my attention, what is this all about?”
“The salon is
taking part in a nationwide contest to pick a ‘Turnabout Gurl’,
the winner of this contest to receive a prize worth over fifty
thousand dollars.” I told her that it sounded good, is she going to
enter the contest?
Well I received a
well-placed punch in the arm, the sting of that still reverberating
through my arm. I am going to have to reduce the time she spends at
the gym, if I expect to survive her frustration at me.
“The contest is
for Gurls, males, who portray a female in dress and actions, they can
be either a crossdresser, female impersonator or an M to F person at
the start of her transition.”
I immediately
backed away from her, I am not sure I liked where she is headed with
this. This is hard to do with her butt situated on my lap, but
believe me, still somewhat possible. A lot of times she scares me,
her ideas and my participation in those ideas really left field.
I ask her to slow
down, and start over from the beginning, and explain everything
again.
“The chain of
salons she works for is one of the primary sponsors of the contest,
but the other sponsors include cosmetic companies, a chain of ladies
lingerie stores, several jewelry companies, and a chain of shoe
stores.”
“There is
significant prizes for second and third place also, plus, numerous
gift certificates from the different sponsors. Of course, my
employers wants the winner to come from within their ranks, the
publicity would be worth a fortune to them.”
I look at her
skeptically, she can’t possibly mean for me to participate in this
contest, can she?
I am five foot
nine inches tall, weighing about one hundred and thirty pounds. My
parents named me Elizabeth after one of the grandfathers, although
how he managed to put up with a name like that, I will always wonder
about. Back in his time, the name might have been given to a male,
but recently in my lifetime, it is usually a female’s, all with
that name quite beautiful and sexy. I think there is some British
influence there, but since none of my family is from England, I
haven’t the slightest idea how the name came to be used. Grandpa
was nicknamed Eli, a name he hated, but unfortunately was stuck with.
I managed to squeak by with being called EB, a cousin started using
it and soon everybody was using it. I often saw the faces of
relatives using my birth name; using Elizabeth really bothered them,
so my nickname using my initials, quickly became the name to use.
I do have long
hair, almost to my shoulder blades. Courtney brushes it for me all of
the time, her below the ears coiffure, not requiring as much
attention. I should do the brushing myself, but I am lazy, and if I
can get her to do it for me, it is a win-win situation. I am not out
the effort and she is occupied and not pestering me about any and
everything. My features are not overly masculine, at least that is
what has been told to me over the years. However, I never get
mistaken for the opposite sex, so, I presume I would be classified as
a somewhat normal male.
Why Courtney gets
these crazy ideas is a mystery, sure we could use the money; with
just her income and my part-time income, we need to watch what we
spend very carefully. I still have some of the money given me for
schooling, but I would like to keep that for some unexpected expense.
If nothing comes up, it could be a down payment for a house for us,
once I find a job, and we know where we will be settling down at.
I tried to reason
with her, me as a ‘gurl’, just isn’t very plausible. The
manager of her salon has told her that any volunteers from relatives
or friends of employees, will receive all of their transformation
services for free. They just have to agree to be in future ads for
the salon if they win. She had shown my picture, from her phone,
around at the salon and most of the stylists think I would do well in
the contest. I did manage to get her to let it rest a while; I told
her I would consider it, but don’t get your hopes up. This line of
thought usually worked for me, eventually she will forget it and I
would be spared the bullet, although this time I had doubts of this
method working.
At my part-time
job, I doubt that my boss would appreciate me coming to work as a
female. I am a waiter at a local restaurant, three nights a week and
Saturdays. The tips are usually pretty good, that, and Courtney’s
job, handling most of our expenses. Unfortunately, I didn’t
anticipate Courtney’s enthusiasm on the matter, so that Sunday the
subject came up again.
I had just served
our supper, it being my turn to cook the meal tonight, when she
blindsided me. First she told me that she had talked to my boss, her
girlfriend, being my bosses’ daughter. They often talked at her
girlfriend’s house when he was home, so they had a relationship of
sorts. She explained everything and he had no problem with it as long
as I didn’t look like a male in female clothes. Then before I could
raise an objection, she showed me a picture of a cute looking girl,
her features reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place where I
had seen her. She sported a different hair color and hair style, of
course, the makeup made quite a difference too.
Then, she laid
out a set of pictures, each showing a stage in the transformation
from male to female. Her salon has software to enable a picture to be
morphed using specific add-ons to show the customer what they will
look like after the services are rendered. The first picture was
mine, and the last picture was the cute girl. I set down promptly,
and buried my head in my hands. I had this bad feeling when Courtney
first brought the subject up, but hoped the gods would steer me away
from this path. I got hugged, and soft kisses were placed around my
face, an action she knew would make me agree eventually. I brought up
about my classes and school, the smile on her face told me she had
handled that also.
Over the six
years we had been together, she was either getting smarter or I was
losing intelligence at an alarming rate. She had taken all of my
excuses away from me, and now was using her feminine charms on me to
convince me to participate in the contest. She ate the dinner I had
served, sitting on my lap, wiggling her butt every once in a while to
make sure I knew she was sitting there. Every so often, she would
place a morsel of the roast beef in my mouth, then hold the glass of
wine while I took a sip. I told her I was full, not really the case,
but her revelations had severally affected any appetite I might have
had.
When she
finished, she helped me clear the table and did the dishes. I put the
food away, plenty enough for another meal, if I ever recover my
appetite. We made sure everything was locked up, and she dragged me
upstairs. By the side of our bed she undressed me, laying my clothes
over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. I was getting cold, so she
retrieved a nightie from her drawer, and let it slide over my body.
The matching panties soon followed. I took in a deep breath, the
feeling of the nightie sliding down my body making me shiver. It was
all slippery and lacey, the combination of the two causing major
stirrings in my body.
She undressed
herself, put on a similar nightie and then, laid me in the bed. She
spooned me for much of the night, about the time I would relax and
start to drift off, she would pinch my nipples or kiss my ear,
causing me to wake up. About midnight, I told her I would enter the
contest, if she would allow me to go to sleep. She had worn me down,
I did love her with all my heart, but she can be so exasperating at
times. She pulled up against me, her warm nipples trying to bore
holes in my back, and I finally drifted off to sleep a few minutes
later.
Several times,
when I briefly woke up, she had a hold of my body as if she would
lose it if she didn’t hold on tight. Around six, I had to go to the
bathroom, it took me several minutes to get my body loose from her
death grip on me. Then, when I returned, she latched on to me again,
even tighter than before.
Her excitement
was once again prevalent the next morning, now, that I had agreed to
enter the contest. She knew my schedule pretty well, telling me that
I needed to come to the salon at four o’clock this afternoon to
register for the contest and get certified. I didn’t ask what
‘certified’ meant, my mind already going places that I didn’t
want it to. I told her I would be there, then, gave her a kiss and
left for my first lecture of the day.
At three thirty,
I made it to the salon, and walked up to reception. She squealed,
then attacked me, covering the distance between her office and where
I was standing in a second or two. I got kisses and a big hug causing
most of the patrons of the salon to giggle at her actions. She talked
to her manager, then drug me to her car. She drove us to a
professional building about four miles from the salon. I asked her
why here, her only reply to get ‘certified’. We entered one of
the doctor’s offices, a female MD in general practice.
Courtney told
their nurse that we had an appointment to be certified for the
contest. She checked her appointment book, found my name, then
crossed it off the list and told me to follow her. I was led to an
examination room and told to get undressed. She offered me a gown,
white with rear air conditioning already installed. I did as I was
told, I guess Courtney has done a good job in my training, always
doing exactly what I am told without hesitation.
A few minutes
later, a doctor came into the room, laid down a clipboard, and asked
how I am doing? I smiled at her, “I will be doing much better if I
can be certified; I am not sure what that means, but know that is
seems to be fairly important.”
She giggles, then
explains what the deal is. “For this much money as a prize, there
are some people that would try and get a real female into the
contest, thus not making the contest very fair. It is her job to
certify that all entrants in this area are real males, possess male
genitals and do not have any stage of breast development.” I
doubted that any person would go to those lengths to win money, but
then, thinking of some of my college friends, yeah it is a definite
possibility.
I was checked out
and she smiled, now you are certified. “One question, I have to
mark you with a tag, one that is not removable to insure that you
don’t change with someone later. There are three options available.
A necklace tight enough, that you can’t remove it, a chip that is
inserted under the skin of your ball sac, or a band that goes behind
your penis and balls that is tight enough to not be removable. Your
choice, the tag that goes on the necklace and the band state that you
are a participant in the Turnabout Gurl contest, most of those I have
seen so far, elect to have the band placed around their penis, since
it is not visible most of the time. These have to be worn until the
judging of the contest, and will be checked at that time.”
I sighed, none of
the choices is what I wanted, but a tag that is visible letting
everyone know that I am going to be in the contest probably the worst
of the three. I definitely didn’t want anything under the skin, so
the other tag is my only choice. The doctor asked if I was married, a
puzzled look appeared on my face. I told her ‘no’ but we had been
living together for six years, so essentially we acted as if we are
married. They had an addition for the band that went around my penis,
making it stand out a little more, usually causing some extra
attention to the organ from the spouse. Although Courtney and I had
been living together for six years, we had both decided marriage was
to be left until I graduated from school, a more reasonable idea,
since I was knee deep in my Master’s paper.
I smiled, yeah go
ahead. “I am already doomed, and a little more humiliation is to be
expected.” She had me lean back on the table and she lifted my
gown. She grabbed something from a box at the end of the table and
placed it around my penis and sack; she tightened it quite a bit
until it was snug, then used a tool to lock it in place. “It is
waterproof, will not shrink any more than it is now, and is not able
to be cut with any scissors or snips. At the end of the contest, they
would use the same tool to remove it, a simple procedure,” she told
me. Then, she held a mirror up for me so that I could look, the pink
ribbons hanging from the small bow around my penis caused me to erupt
in laughter. I am sure Courtney would love it, now, if I can just get
her to leave me alone enough for me to get some sleep at night.
I felt a little
ridiculous with my new piece of adornment, but this whole contest is
bordering on being ludicrous, and the actual contest is not even
started yet. I got dressed again, knowing that the pink ribbons are
around my male member, causing a slight erection. Then, the tightness
of the band came into play, stopping any further expansion of my
member. That possibility had never entered my mind, I am not sure I
liked it, but the contest was only a few weeks off, so I figured the
forced celibacy would help me to finish my thesis and pass my finals.
The salon had
picked up the tab for the certification exam, so other than the
embarrassment, I was okay with the procedure. Courtney drove home,
still just as enthusiastic as ever. We did stop to pick up some
takeout, her treat. Safely inside our apartment, she attacked the
zipper on my jeans, soon I am completely naked, and she has my penis
in her hands playing with the ribbons. Like a cat with a new play
toy, all else is forgotten, as she inspected, squeezed, and otherwise
manhandled my package.
Several times I
tried to get her to stop, reminding her that the food is getting
cold. I managed to slip out of the situation by telling her I had to
go to the rest room. You would be surprised at how fast I can move
when necessary. Now, picture going to the bathroom with a bow around
my privates and pink ribbons hanging down from the bow. By the time
of the judging, I imagine I will be very glad to get rid of the
adornment. We won’t go into the maneuvers necessary to be able to
pee and keep the ribbons dry.
As I returned to
the table, she had laid out the food, paper plates and silverware.
Iced tea from the refrigerator completed the make shift meal. I sat
down to eat and Courtney was right behind me. Again, she sat on my
lap and fed me bite by bite, that wouldn’t have been bad by itself,
but the wiggling of her butt on my manhood, made it seek to expand,
the band killing that off shortly after it started.
She has always
liked to sit in people’s laps, why I have never been able to put a
reason with it, but in my case, it is one of her favorite positions.
It tends to be with male relatives, I think she enjoys frustrating
them, her innocence and angelic looks assures her of getting by with
it.
After her
extended play period, I washed the dishes, a few moments away from
her probing fingers a pleasant relief. I took some time to clean the
kitchen some, the counters, and the front of the refrigerator. When I
finished, I turned to see her standing in the doorway. She walked
over to me, grabbed my hand and led me away, muttering to herself all
the way. I was seated on the couch in the living room, with her on my
lap. In the past, this happened rarely on the couch, I presume now
she doesn’t want me to escape, so if she is sitting on my lap the
chances of that happening are much smaller. Either that, or there is
something scheduled, that she needs to insure my cooperation in.
The kisses start
again, her smothering my face with pecks and smooches. “I
surrender, let’s save ourselves both a lot of time and effort; what
is coming up and when do I have to be there?” She pouts like a kid
who has been caught with both hands in the cookie jar, but still
trying to proclaim its innocence.
“Tomorrow at
eight A.M. at the salon, your transformation to the female sex. Plan
on all day, you can go in with me, and I will drive you home after
your sex change.” That said with a little smile, and a giggle. She
looked at me, expecting some grief on the plans, but I knew if I did
voice an opinion, it wouldn’t make any difference, so I remained
quiet. I am dragged to our bedroom, she left me temporarily, to get
changed for bed.
“What do you
want me to wear for my transformation?” A smile lit up her face,
and she walked to her closet and pulled out a pair of pink sweats,
then a pair of sandals, in a matching color. I took them from her
placing them on a chair on my side of the room. The chair where I
normally laid my clothes for the next day. I received help in
undressing again, I know she just loves my pink ribbons and bow,
can’t wait to get her hands on them.
The evening
turned out to be pretty blasé, she played for a while, then cuddled
me from behind, soon falling asleep with her hands on my breasts. I
wondered what that would feel like when I actually had something
there instead of the vast expanse of skin that was now present. I am
sure any sex change will include some type of breast enlargement or
breast forms at the least.
Waking up the
next morning, I remembered what is to happen today, I made my way to
the bathroom, somewhat feeling like I am a convict on death row.
Courtney had told me to brush my teeth and run a brush through my
hair, all other functions would be handled by the salon. I slipped on
the sweats, after being told to not put on underwear. It felt funny,
my thingy with the ribbons dangling between my legs.
I inhaled once,
taking in as much air as I could, hoping that would make all of this
go away. But it didn’t, Courtney taking my hand and leading me out
the door. Lost in thought, the drive to the salon is in silence. I
have questions, but maybe the best way to handle things is just to
keep silent, what is destined to happen, will, no matter what I do.
My volunteering for this, with lots of coercion on Courtney’s part,
is a fact. The ribbons around my male organs, a constant reminder of
my commitment to this contest.
At this point, I
should point out that the salon was named Turnabout Gurl, an entrant
from the salon a big boost for their business. If I should place, or
win, it would be an advertising bonanza. They had tried to get more
entrants from some of their other salons, but most of their male
customers preferred some anonymity in their life. The use of their
picture after the contest a deal breaker. So I was one of the few
chosen, all or nothing, riding on the few that entered from the
salons to be the national Turnabout Gurl.
Once at the
salon, I am whisked away to a private treatment room, Gloria and
Sally my technicians for the transformation. My sweats are removed,
exposing the cute bow and ribbons, both of the girls giggling a
little. I am laid on a table and examined to see what needs to be
done. They stand to either side of me and explain what needs to be
done to make me a female in all regards. The procedures are explained
in detail, although I had told them it was not necessary. For all
customers of the salon, this is standard operating procedure.
I had viewed the
picture that Courtney had brought home, a picture of how I would look
after the sex change, so I already had an idea of how I would look.
The girls told me that I would easily best that look, the raw
materials so much better than they had guessed. I guess that doesn’t
say much for my masculinity. I signed an agreement, that if I placed
in the competition, I would allow the salon to use my pictures and
agree to participate in personal appearances to promote the salon. I
am surprised that I would receive a salary for doing this, in
addition to the prize money.
A thick cream is
rubbed into my skin from my eyebrows to my toes. There is no spot
missed, the girls doing an excellent job of coating my skin. It is
left on for about a half hour, then a wet rag is used to remove it
along with all my hair. Turned over for the other side, even my groin
and rosebud were treated. When they finally removed the last of the
cream with wet rags, I am checked to make sure they didn’t miss any
spots. Then, another cream is applied and allowed to soak in, this
one feeling much nicer, with a scent of flowers. I usually get
excited when creams are used on me, but junior is not feeling up to
his old self, I am sure the bow and ribbons exposed for all to see,
has influenced his reticence.
A machine is
wheeled into the room and two cups are placed on my chest. The breast
like cup is glued to my chest, my nipple being the center of the cup.
Hoses from the machine are attached to the cups after they had
injected a fatty like substance into each cup. The pump is started
and any loose tissue is pulled into the cups. It pulls the tissue
steadily into the forms for about thirty minutes, then the pump
becomes cyclic, running for a couple of minutes, then off then
starting again. Gradually, the fatty substance disappears, and the
cups slowly fill. I should mention that the breast like cups are
sizable, more than I would feel comfortable with as a female. When
asked about the cup size, their only comment was that they were
proportionate to my body, whatever that meant.
Sally is
meanwhile working on my toenails, filing and shaping them, then
polishing them a bright pink. The other half of the team, Gloria is
working on my fingernails, getting then into nice ovals, then adding
extensions to each nail. The glue is set with UV light, causing the
nail extension to turn color, the finished look almost like the
natural nail. I remembered their explanation earlier, permanent until
my original nail grows out.
Meanwhile, the
vacuum on the machine has encouraged my erstwhile breasts to fill the
cups half way. Although the machine is cycling on and off, the tissue
in the cups remains steady. The nipples on my breasts are hard and
pointy, like Courtney gets when I play with hers. Sally has finished
with my toenails, a bright pink nail color now on each nail. It is
amazing that little changes in my feet and the hairless legs
transform my lower half to that of a female.
Then the scary
part as my legs are slipped into stirrups at the end of the table I
am laying on. Sally adds a strap to secure them there, then spreads
the stirrups wide so that she can walk up right next to my groin. A
cool spray is felt and then nothing. She is working down there and
then I see the ribbons laying over one of my upper legs. Before I can
say anything she tells me that my official certification is still
there, she just has removed the ribbons from it.
Another twenty
minutes with her between my legs, and she walks around to check the
suction on my breasts. I raise my head to look at what she has done
and take in a deep breath. My male organ is gone, replaced by a slit
with two puffy lips surrounding it. I stammer, asking her what she
has done with it. With a smirk on her lips, she told me that Courtney
wanted to try lesbian sex, so she has used a chemical on it and
dissolved it away.
Since I had no
feeling down there, it is a definite possibility! Surely Courtney
wouldn’t do this to me, but then, the ridiculous contest I was in,
a sure easy way to make the change before I could stop it. I just
stared at the ceiling, a tear or two coming to the corners of my
eyes. Sally asked if I wanted the ribbons put back, I just nodded,
not really focusing on what she said or was doing. I felt something
sliding inside my slit, the feeling removing any breath that I might
be able to take in. I wanted to look to see what she had done, but
mentally, I was not ready, hell I was scared to death, she had just
slid something in my new female vagina.
I quietly started
sobbing, I am a woman now and I have been penetrated in my new female
organ. The vulnerability was there, also a little curiosity about
what had been inserted in me. I finally gave into the curiosity and
looked down at my vagina. There in all of its glory was my ribbons
sticking out from between my puffy lips. I used my hand to move them
to the side and felt movement in my new orifice.
It felt good, a
pleasure spreading throughout my body, as if every nerve in my body
was connected to those ribbons. Two different colored ribbons, much
longer than the rest had been added, and Sally took them and tied a
bow behind my back with the loose ends. She assured me that they
would keep the dildo from falling out, which was the piece that my
ribbons had been attached to. I suddenly felt very woozy, did she
just say that I had a dildo in my vagina? No, that is not right,
since I am a male I can’t have a vagina, much less have a dildo
inserted in it.
I must have
fainted, passed out, or otherwise become unaware of what was
happening. The next thing I remembered was waking up, strange
feelings roaming my body. I looked around, then, saw Courtney out of
the corner of my eye. She had the biggest smile on her face, then
reached down and pulled on her toy, just like a cat, causing my body
to arch in pleasure and shiver until I passed out again.
It was quite a
few minutes before Sally could resume my transformation. I just laid
there breathing hard and trying to take in sufficient breath to
maintain consciousness. The tingles were still being felt, and when I
finally lifted my head to look, my ribbons were still embedded in my
vagina. Courtney was holding my hands, both of them together while
rubbing the palm of my hand with her thumbs. That alone was keeping
me aroused.
Sally then starts
on my hair, washing and conditioning it several times. Picking up
scissors and a comb, she trims off the split ends, then starts
shaping my feminine hairstyle. With my hair almost to my shoulder
blades she has plenty to work with, so I am sure I would end up with
a decidedly feminine hairstyle. As I watched in the mirror, the image
I am watching went past the feminine, right to absolutely gorgeous.
The new style framed my face, helping my round face look more like
the ideal oval of a beautiful female.
As Gloria
finished, she started adding highlights to my hair, painting some
coloring on locks of my hair and then wrapping them in foil. The end
result looked comical, like an alien trying to communicate with her
spaceship. I say her, for the image could never be connected to a
male individual. Those had to process for thirty minutes, so Sally
eliminated the rest of my eyebrows while waiting for the hair dye to
process. Two small lines highly arched over my eyes did remain, but
unless they were penciled in, they were far from being obvious or
masculine.
Four hours into
my transformation, there is very little if any male left. The
highlights had finished processing, so the foil is removed and my
hair rinsed. Another conditioner is applied to my strands and then
all of my hair is wound on curlers. From small ones at my neck to
larger ones on top of my head, no hair is left out. Moved to a dryer,
the timer set for fifty minutes, I am allowed to cook for a while.
My mind is
desperately trying to handle the changes in me. The rhythmic pulse of
the machine creating breasts for me, my hair in curlers, my body now
totally hair free, and my nails painted a pinkish red all new
sensations to this body. Then, I remembered the pink bow around the
dildo buried deep in my vagina, how appropriate for the new female.
The image in the mirror across the room, definitely female, the cups
on my chest now almost full.
The timer shut
down the dryer, Gloria came to check my hair, then moved me and the
machine back to a styling station. The machine’s hoses are unhooked
but the cups stay on, the vacuum still keeping the new breast tissue
firmly against the sides of the forms. Sally checks the forms,
telling me they have to stay on until the tissue stabilizes, then
returns a few minutes later with two syringes. Before I realize what
she is doing I get a shot in the nipple of each breast, right through
the hole where the hoses attach. I thought about asking what the shot
is for, but I feared I would not like the answer, so that question is
placed with the multitude of others to be asked at some later time if
ever.
Gloria removes
the curlers, the tight curl remaining even though the curler is no
longer there. The curls and the highlights make my hair look so
different. Each curl is gently teased, the curls now spiraling down
my neck and back. The ones on top of my head are gathered together
some, and pinned into place. The look is quite feminine, the color
and gentle curls helping to make my face so gurly. As Courtney
wanted, I do seem to fit the definition of a ‘Turnabout Gurl’.
I received a few
clothes, and am helped to dress. A nightgown type of dress and a pair
of panties, but at least I am no longer naked. What I am actually
wearing, not perceived by my mind yet; it still was fixated on the
gorgeous female in the mirror. As I am helped into some heels, things
begin to register, for one thing, I am much taller and hardly able to
stand by myself. They show me how to properly walk, then, let me walk
around the salon to get used to the footwear. The shorter steps and
placing one foot in front of the other, did help my stability though.
I found out that
the forms stay on, over a day or two they dissolve leaving nothing
but soft jiggling breasts. So, I now needed a bra, a cream colored
lacey number that held the breast cup gently in its embrace. For some
reason, that felt good for my breasts to be gently held in the bra’s
cups. I received a little more modest dress, but still silky and very
distracting.
When Courtney
finishes for the day, I am actually able to walk to her car. The ride
home is quiet, both of us with a lot to think about. I do notice that
she is looking at me, every chance she gets, taking in all aspects of
my appearance. When we arrive home, I wander off to the kitchen to
find something to make for supper, and she heads to the bedroom to
change clothes. When she returns she helps warm the offerings I have
found, complimenting me on my selections.
The subject we
are both dreading comes up while we eat, I admit to her that the
changes done so far have changed my appearance drastically. I can’t
even see any male persona left, the extreme femininity had totally
erased any male characteristics that I might have had. I ask her with
an unsteady voice, if my loss of male looks will affect our
relationship? I know she was attracted to me for my male looks and
body, now, having me as a female was sure to affect our friendship,
but most importantly our relationship.
Courtney smiles,
“Yes, the male you has disappeared. I still want your little fella,
but what has replaced your male looks, has turned me on to such a
degree that I want to pull you aside and ravage you whenever I get a
glimpse of you. You have no idea what your new look does to me, my
nipples have been rock hard all day, and I have changed my panties
three times today to avoid the wetness that seeps out every time I
catch a glimpse of you.”
With that
statement, I am led to our bedroom and she proceeds to do as she has
wanted all day. The first thing she does is to remove the dildo and
ribbons from my snatch. Over the next twenty minutes, I am made love
to, the end result is that I am a puddle of goo. I know the only
thing saving me was the somewhat stiff cups protecting my new chest
additions. If they had been available to be played with, no telling
the outcome of that evening. I presume I came, I felt several
releases as she shoved her fingers into my new vulva. The reason for
my assumption is, the cum flowing from my new vagina. Something only
Courtney has experienced in the past after sex with me. She tried to
get me up to take a shower, but I doubted I could even sit up, my
body totally exhausted from the sex that we had experienced. It was
more than just a release that I felt as a male, this was a total
overall body release, every part of my body seemed to be affected.
With a smirk, she
went to the bathroom, returned with something in her hand. She leaned
over me blocking my sight of what she is doing and then I felt
something being slid into my vagina, when she sat up, I had a string
hanging out of my slit. OMG, she inserted a tampon in me! Now what do
I do, I swear I can feel it expanding in my vagina, soaking up my
cum. I am sure that is not one of the intended purposes of a tampon.
I was assured that I would appreciate it by morning, the wet gooey
cum dripping out of me all night, an unpleasant side effect of our
love making.
The ribbons and
dildo were laid to the side, ready to be reinserted in the morning
after my shower. A smile appearing on Courtney’s face, again, her
favorite plaything ready and waiting for her favorite gurl.
The shower the
next morning was invigorating, I washed everywhere, my new female sex
getting a lot of attention. As my hand wiped over the orifice with
the sponge loaded with soap, I get tingles all through my body. It
seemed most of my body now was just a large erogenous zone. My new
slit, my upper thighs, anywhere around my breasts, even my ears, once
stimulated, I was quickly turned to goo. I managed to dress in my new
clothes, another day at the salon again for me, for some lessons in
keeping the look fresh and inviting.
At the salon, I
was put through my paces, having to style my hair and do my makeup
myself until I got the jest of things. Some lessons in deportment,
sitting, stooping in a feminine manner, and more practice walking in
heels. The ones I have on now with a five inch heel height. I had a
class late today, so I was excused so I could attend. Definitely not
looking forward to it.
It turned out to
be no big deal, no comments made, one female recognizing me, wanting
to have an explanation later on why I was prettier than her now. One
guy asked for my phone number, I declined telling him my girlfriend
was very jealous.
Tonight was one
of my nights to work, so after the class, I headed to the restaurant.
My boss was waiting for me, wanting to make sure I looked
appropriate. I got a hug from him, but insisted that I dress as a
female from now on, a definite plus for the business. Getting on the
new uniform for me was touch and go, one of the other waitresses
helped me, I thanked her profusely for her help. Believe me it was
different and took some time getting used to it. My new cleavage was
now visible, and way more of my legs was visible than I preferred.
There was another
small problem, the ribbons hanging from the dildo came to just above
the hem of my uniform, Julie the waitress that helped me said I was
okay, the ribbons might even help with my tips. Other than the long
nails, I didn’t have much trouble, although I did receive a couple
of hands on my butt during the evening. The one good thing was the
tips I received. I made three times what I made as a male, even
though I had less customers that evening. Maybe being a gurl more
often is worth looking into.
When I got home,
I undressed, the bra the first thing that got removed after the dress
was slid off. I appreciated the support, but the band being removed
felt so good. Of course, Courtney was there to help, but her cupping
my new breasts was not necessarily much help. I know, after her
touches, my nipples were rock hard. It was late and I had a class at
10 the next morning, so she did allow me to slip into bed. The
nightgown was a baby doll barely reaching the bottom of my panties.
The ribbons were visible peaking from around the edges of the
panties, I know the dildo had made a lasting impression on me all
day, as it rubbed my captured male organ. So utterly frustrating.
Although Courtney
was playing with her toy, I lost consciousness, the day’s
activities taking its toll on me. The next morning, I was awoken with
Courtney’s lips on my nipples. Somehow they had become even more
sensitive to touch, her tongue sliding over my nipple causing me to
awake instantly. That was it for sleep, I finally headed to the
shower to get away from her ministrations.
Dressed and off
to my classes, I was early for my first class, so I sat and made some
notes for my Master’s paper that I was working on. I received a lot
more attention than normal, from the gals that wasn’t all bad. From
the guys I was very leery. At times there were three or four guys
standing around me trying to engage me in conversation. Looking
around I noticed that other attractive females were in the same boat
as I. From a Master’s candidate to a gorgeous female takes a lot of
getting used to. Being gorgeous was not my opinion, but several of my
admirers were using that phrase with regards to me.
Luckily for me
the contest judging is only a few days away. Maybe I can survive
until then. Once judged I can return to my former self, letting all
of this just fade away. Somehow I doubted that would happen, my hair
with highlights and long lasting curls, my breasts that were sucked
from my body might go away with time, but we are talking months not
days.
I did get some
work done on my master’s thesis, the last parts needed to finish
the paper, now I just need to edit it, check for continuity and then
prepare my arguments to justify my reasoning in the paper. Since most
of the professors listening to my thesis would be males, one look at
my image and I might be able to strike a sexy pose and get the needed
approval with my new looks.
Gawd, there is no
hope for me. I have already went over to the dark side, thinking
about using my looks to get what I want, a feminine approach as if
there was any doubt I had been assimilated.
Two more days of
classes occurred, both quite tame except for some unwanted male
attention. Now the judging day, I will be finally through with this
stupid contest. I awoke early, I had an appointment at the salon for
the final touches, then the judging at three this afternoon. The
salons had set up a closed circuit TV network so that each contestant
could be evaluated before a panel of judges. Since the contestants
were spread all across the country, about the only way to handle the
judging. At one time the finals were going to be held in Arizona, but
too many of the contestants had prior commitments, making that
approach unfeasible.
Each contestant
was given a short interview, then we walked up and down the salon for
the cameras. A close up shot of our faces, then a slow scan of our
body from our hair to our toes. After an hour I was one of fifteen
finalists, how that happened had me worried and concerned. I agreed
to the contest to keep Courtney off my case, I really did not want to
win, hell I didn’t even want to be one of the finalists. Things
were not looking good for me, I thought of withdrawing from the
contest now, before any further decisions had been made. I scraped
that idea when I saw the look of anticipation on Courtney’s face.
If I withdrew I would never hear the end of it from my girlfriend.
Another hour and we were down to five contestants, unfortunately I
was one of the final five.
By now I had been
up and down the salon way too many times, I even tried to fake
tripping and losing my balance hoping that would let me out of the
running for the top spot. My fellow contestants were not prepared as
well, for every attempt for me to throw the contest, they made worse
mistakes. I was now sweating bullets, as they named the final five
places in the contest.
I held my breath,
hoping as every place was announced that my name would be spoken. I
guess I have extremely bad karma, because as each name was announced,
it was not mine. Finally the Turnabout Gurl is Elizabeth,
representing the salon in Phoenix. I didn’t hear any further words
because I fainted. I came to, still lying on the floor with a towel
laid over my forehead and a larger towel covering my body. Once they
saw I was lucid, I was helped up and taken to a chair in the waiting
area of the salon. I looked around everybody had smiles on their
faces, Courtney bouncing around the salon hugging and kissing ever
body she could catch. Once she saw I was coherent she headed my way,
landing on my lap and planted a sizzling kiss on my lips as she held
each side of my head preventing me from evading the kiss or backing
away. Once our lips were parted I tried to get air into my lungs, her
kiss left me breathless and shaking like a leaf.
Then I remembered
winning the damn contest, the reason for my fainting. Then I saw
Francine, Courtney’s boss coming my way. She had a huge smile on
her face, when she saw me withdraw a little she picked up her pace
catching me before I could make a getaway. With my hand firmly in
hers I was dragged back to her office. She closed the door behind me,
pointing to a couch on one side of the room. I sat down, trying to
remember my lessons that I received a few days ago as to how a lady
sits properly.
“Well,
Elizabeth you came through for us, winning the contest so easily.
From the time you entered there was no doubt as to the eventual
winner. Now we need to discuss the next year as the reigning
Turnabout Gurl. I have checked with your school, knowing that your
master’s presentation is coming up soon. Do you need help with it
or have you finished the paper?”
I told her it is
finished, I just need to check for mistakes and then schedule a time
for its presentation. She handed me a piece of paper, as I looked at
it the dean of the school is listed and his home phone number. I
looked back at Francine my eyebrows raised a little. She smiled. “He
is a customer of the salon, but prefers to stay low key. Call him
when you decide you are ready and he will schedule you a time
whenever you request. As for your professors they have already been
briefed by your faculty advisor, there should be no difficulty with
your presentation then acceptance of the paper.”
“Now as soon as
you get the paper submitted, you have lots of duties as the Turnabout
Gurl. Of course, you will be paid for your time, your schedule is
quite full, visiting all the salons in my chain and the stores of the
sponsors will take at least a year. You will be properly prepared and
touch-ups as needed to keep your appearance top notch. I am sure
Courtney will accompany you to make sure you represent the position
properly. All expenses will be paid by the contest, your wardrobe is
already put together including lingerie, blouses, skirts and dresses.
Of course shoes and jewelry to make sure you look your feminine best.
At each stop along the way you will visit our salon to make sure your
makeup, hair and nails are at their best. Full page advertisements
will be run in every town visited to make sure that any party
interested will be able to visit and talk to you.”
“Since you are
a representative of my chain of salons I will pay you a salary for
the entire year, the publicity you generate for the salons will more
than offset that expense. That about wraps it up, let me know when
you have submitted the paper and I make arrangements for your
transportation to the first stop. You will experience another full
day at the salon so they can make you as feminine as possible. I am
sure you will enjoy the treatments.”
I was pulled to
my feet, hugged and kissed on the cheek, then she scooted me out the
door. I was still in shock, a year of being a feminine female for the
contest, I don’t remember anything about this in the info about the
contest. I stood there outside her office, trying to get my thoughts
together. I looked down at my body, nothing male left, about as
feminine as a female can be. I stepped forward, then another step,
each step I advanced I was accepting my future, that of a Turnabout
Gurl. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Then I saw Courtney
bouncing her way towards me, nope I don’t think it will be bad at
all. Now if I can find some way to live with my fate, I am sure
Courtney will make it memorable.
© 2016 thru
2024 by Francesca