Friday, June 28, 2024

Samantha; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Samantha; No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Mom and Dad are off again to Australia; this is their second trip there. Why they are fascinated with that wilderness, I will never know. Like last time, I begged to be left behind, a month of traipsing around the outback not my idea of a vacation. I have ideas that I want to explore during their absence, some are from several years ago, but never had the opportunity or funds to do so. Maybe this time I will be able to partake of them.

I was left to my own devices, but Aunt Ellen would check in on me periodically to make sure that all was well. Actually, Ellen is not an actual relative. Her and my mom were childhood friends who went through all of grade school and high school together. Since they were so close, they were seen as sisters, hence the Aunt nickname adopted later in life. I am eighteen years of age, pretty much responsible and most of my wild oats already sown at least that is my story to all who will listen. We live on a farm about forty miles out of town, far enough out to be private, but close enough to enjoy the benefits of shopping and movies.

Dad originally a farmer, has leased the land out now, to a nearby farmer, so no farm-related chores are involved now. That done shortly after he officially retired from farming. Believe me, I don’t miss the chores that I used to have to do. I was fifteen when he officially retired from farming. A lot of the more strenuous chores were not done by me due to my age and puny body. But I spent a lifetime, it seemed, driving a tractor and working the fields. I, for one, am pleased he retired from it, not my idea of a viable career. The lease money from the twenty-one hundred acres he used to farm is allowing my parents to vacation pretty much wherever they want.

Aunt Ellen lives down the road a few miles with her husband and twin daughters. Where Mom chose to be a farmer’s wife, Ellen chose to start up her own business. Now that her daughters are through with high school, they are both joining her in her business. Ellen was one of the first to purchase a franchise for Turnabout Gurl, a chain of beauty shops that cater to males that want to be females. I know, a very different type of business these days.

Aunt Ellen took a good sized portion of the regular beauty shop business in town for females since their skill at changing a male to a female is quite remarkable. If they can make a male look like a female, imagine what they can do for a regular female. That statement alone has persuaded a lot of female customers to sample their services, and once sampled they are steady customers from then on. I have been in the salon a time or two, mostly to deliver a message, or pick up something. The degree of business is awesome by any standards no matter what time it is, the salon is always full.

Now with four weeks to have a blast, I wondered what I should do first. I had my list of never experienced things that I wanted to indulge in, but that could wait until the next week. Of course, I had all the latest computer games and had mastered most of them. I should rephrase that, I have managed to play them well enough to gain access to the upper levels consistently. The first night till seven the next morning that is all I did. I took a shower and then, promptly fell asleep after stuffing my face with everything that is not good for me, namely chips, dips and pizza.

I woke around five that afternoon, when Jamie, one of Ellen’s daughters came knocking on the door. Both of the twins are gorgeous, but of the two Jamie is the more outgoing. I invited her in, offered her a coke, and we went into the family room. I could tell she was extremely nervous, not something that I see in her often. The conversation wandered around for a while; I was reluctant to ask outright what she wanted, and she is apparently too scared to ask.

Twenty minutes had passed; I decided to make the first gesture. I told her, “Just tell me what you want; it can’t be that bad, and I promise to consider what you might require of me.” I carefully worded that because of an incident a few years ago, when I agreed to do something before I found out what that something was. Never again, the embarrassment from last time making quite a lasting impression on me.

She told me, “I have to pass my cosmetology final to get my license.” That is not what she is worried about; her grades have been excellent and her work always the top of the class. She continued explaining, “The requirement is to bring a fellow student or a friend to the licensing exam to do the work on. Janice has already got a fellow student to be her partner, but after checking around, no one is volunteering to help me, even Janice is scared of what may happen.”

To help make her case, she said, “In the past, sometimes the examiner makes life difficult for the student, asking for multiple services to test their skills. Well, word has made it to the examiner that I am the top student in my class. In the past, a top student has been picked on with very demanding services and procedures, kind of like you are not as good as you think.” She looked at the floor trying to get enough nerve to come to why she is here. “The leak of my position in class was delivered by the examiner’s daughter but from a previous marriage. That daughter is a fellow classmate, who, I think, is quite good, but has always resented my status and skills in class. Everybody including my instructor expects the worse to be asked of me; this examiner having a record of going overboard repeatedly. I have no fear of doing the work; I just need someone to work on for the exam.”

We sat down on the sofa. I looked at her and felt sorry she was put in this position. She said, “Ellen suggested you, I really would like your help, but I am scared of what he will ask me to do to you. I have even offered to pay a couple of my so-called friends, but everybody is scared of what may happen. I know it is not fair to ask you, but I have no one else to turn to. If I try to go around the local examiner, no telling what I may end up with, plus it takes weeks to get an appointment with another examiner in the next district,” she told me while fidgeting and pulling on her skirt. She was really shaking and almost in tears.

I asked, “When is the exam scheduled?” She looked anxiously at me and replied, “The exam is set for eight A.M. the day after tomorrow, providing I can find someone to do the work on.” I asked her what things I might end up with if the worse happens. She listed dyed hair, the color the examiner picks, a permanent, a wet set, sculptured nails, a waxed body, full makeup, hair extensions, just to name a few. “Mom has offered to undo any of the treatments, ones that can be undone, for free, if you will help me.”

“Jamie, if the treatments are undone, will I still have a few traces of them showing?” I asked. Jamie swallows hard, “Yes there will still be traces of some of the treatments.”

If I will consider helping her, she will pay me, almost anything I ask. She needs her license; there is a cosmetologist competition in one week, and she would like to enter it. The grand prize is two thousand dollars and a year’s worth of beauty products; but mostly she wants the bragging rights of winning the first prize. “A cosmetologist who is highly regarded can get more money for her services,” she stated.

There was an eerie silence as I thought about all the things that could go wrong, mainly to me. I wanted to help Jamie; she has helped me in the past, a big favor in high school, but mostly just being a good friend to me. Janice, her sister, and I were also close, but I felt more relaxed around Jamie, a real down to earth girl that would do anything for me. I asked her, “Jamie, could I think about it for an hour or two; maybe you would like to go to dinner with me? Would you like to do that?” as I contemplated my response.

She let out a big sigh. “At least, you haven’t said no yet.” She gladly accepted, and we went into town to the local diner. They served a wide variety of food, but their handmade pizzas and calzones could not be beaten. Jamie ordered a calzone with sausage and pepperoni while I got a small pizza with everything on it. The pizza was so loaded with toppings that you couldn’t see the crust.

The meal is excellent, and we talked for quite some time about anything and everything. She told me of some of her Mother’s clients, now coming from as far away as three hundred miles. According to Jamie, they were fun to be with and appreciated the things done to them. Ellen got a five hundred dollar tip from one when she did all the preparations for her wedding. The couple a male and a female had arranged for a double bride ceremony, the look of the male bride after Ellen’s services brought tears to the new bride’s eyes, requiring Ellen to redo the eye makeup. Oh wow, I thought to myself! Wouldn’t want to end up looking like a bride.

I could tell Jamie couldn’t wait to get involved in the salon, her excitement and enthusiasm bubbling over as she spoke. I had decided shortly after we got to the diner, but I was so fascinated by her stories that withheld my decision till we got back to the farm.

As we entered the family room of my home, with two fresh diet drinks in hand, she turned to me and asked, “Have you decided yet?” I tried to look pathetic and depressed as I responded. “If you can’t find any other person, I will be your model.” I got hugged so hard, that both of our drinks got spilled, mainly on me. She apologized, grabbing a towel from the kitchen to wipe up as much as she could manage. She set the remainder of her drink down and grabbed my head to kiss me. It was a full on lip kiss that left me breathless. I am thanked again, hugged again, and more kisses followed, but this time on the cheek.

“I presume from your actions that I have pleased you; I just hope that I don’t regret the gesture after your license exam.” What she had told me about the examiner, left no doubt that he is clearly overstepping his authority. In an exam, to determine one's skill, all applicants needed to be judged equally, all given the same questions or procedures to be done. He has clearly allowed his authority to influence his actions and needs to be taken down a notch or two. I have an idea; maybe I can do that while I am helping Jamie.

Jamie left, clearly happier than when she arrived, telling me she would see me early the day after tomorrow. I needed to be ready at seven A.M., and she will drive me down to the licensing board. As she made her way to her car, I noticed a definite spring in her step, one of her greatest problems handled.

I was never one to try and correct all evil, but this jerk pushed all of my buttons. I went over all my ideas many times, trying to find the right one that would put an end to this bozo. I narrowed it down to a couple that should do the trick. I am sure Aunt Ellen could help me pick the right one.

About an hour later Ellen called me. She thanked me for helping Jamie but wanted to be sure I realized what I might end up with as a result of my thoughtfulness. I told her that Jamie had spelled it out completely, leaving no doubt what I might experience. I confided in her what I had in mind to change the examiners attitude. She thought I may be taking it too far, but applauded me for the effort and thought. She told me to come to the salon tomorrow at closing, and she would provide the disguise required.

I looked through my father’s photographic equipment picking a mini camcorder that could be placed in a purse so that it could record all the happenings at the exam. I found an old purse of Mom’s that would hold it and rigged the end of the purse to allow the lens to show through. The design on the purse a bunch of circles embossed on the leather, the camera lens blending in easily with this background. The videotape would last for two hours, and I had a backup tape to use if needed.

I planned to dress semi asexual, just enough femininity to allow me to carry a purse and give the examiner the idea that I might be gay. I hoped that would let him relax and do his worst, giving me the ammunition to use against him. I had called the state Board of Cosmetology asking a few questions, but not divulging any names or locations. The person I talked to was upset, to say the least at the alleged actions and promised immediate action to handle the situation. I suggested a phone call to her after the exam, to tell her of my findings and she concurred.

I had to peel off my clothes, the dried soda pop already very sticky. I got them in the washing machine, then made my way to bed. I slept well that night even though I was a little apprehensive about the upcoming adventure. I awoke fresh and invigorated, deciding to try my luck at a few of my games. It turns out I had better luck sleeping. Lunch was more snacks; then I reluctantly decided to clean up a little of my mess before leaving the kitchen. The basic premise being if I waited until my parents are scheduled to get back, it might take days before I could return the house to an acceptable level. I knew one of Mom’s first actions would be to walk through the house to see if I had been good.

The afternoon passed slowly, my mind wondering if I was overstepping some by going after this scum ball. Jamie deserved better than to be subjected to a different set of rules just because she is at the top of her class. I prepared myself for the worst case scenario if all of what Jamie mentioned is done to me. I had, at least, four weeks for the effects to wear off a little before I would have to reinsert myself into society. Well, society would not be the problem, my parents would be, that is for sure.

At four-thirty, I went down to Ellen’s salon. I had to wait as she finished her last customer; I looked at some of their hair styling magazines trying to picture what I would look like if one of those styles were thrust upon me. When Ellen finished with that customer, she called me back to her station.

She noticed that I am carrying the purse and chuckled at me. I smiled, then asked, “Could you give me a cute curly hairstyle for my date tonight?” She broke up laughing but asked me again, “What are you planning for tomorrow?” I told her that I wanted to have the examiner relaxed around me, see that I am not a threat so that he will pull out all the stops to keep Jamie from passing. “I know what I am letting myself in for, but this type of arrogance and abuse of power is something that needs to be stopped!” I stated.

She suggested that she thin my eyebrows a little, give me some lip gloss, and mascara to wear tomorrow morning, and a blouse to wear over my jeans. Maybe some gel in my hair, then brushing it to get if fluffier less flat looking. She told me she had Jamie bring in the blouse after our earlier conversation, a feminine blouse that should add just enough to the illusion to make it believable.

It didn’t take long for Ellen to thin my eyebrows, in fact; I am amazed that there is anything left of my eyebrows after her thinning. It did change my facial appearance, from male to slightly female, just by that one small change in my appearance. The hair is the biggest difference, fluffing it made it appear softer, with some small curls appearing mysteriously.

She told me to be sure and tell Jamie about your idea; she likes you so much, she might balk at the instructions if she thinks it will harm you. I told her I would on the way to the exam. I was given the blouse, mascara, and lip gloss, and I headed home. I stopped to get some tacos, a favorite of mine that I don’t get to indulge in often. I ended up dragging my butt into my bedroom a little after ten that night. I did receive more than a few glances while I was in the drive-thru for the tacos, no gender-related pronouns were used, though. I had spent the rest of the time just driving around town, trying to make sure my mind is ready for what might happen tomorrow. I had stopped at one of the parks in the area, watched the sun set and munched on the remainder of my tacos.

I set the alarm for six and was up and showered, dressed and in the kitchen grabbing a pop tart when Jamie knocked on the door. When she saw me, she broke out giggling. She smiled and said to me, “It is going to be bad enough after the exam, and here you go and start it before we even get there.” I grabbed her hand, and we headed to her car. I told her the idea, and insisted that she do everything he insists with no reservations. For this to work, he has to overstep his authority and ask for things that are overboard and ridiculous. I made her promise that she will do exactly as he says no matter what it is. To smile and be enthusiastic and bubbly about everything, no matter what her true feelings are. I received a reluctant head nod apparently that is the best I am getting out of her, she is very unsure about this and looked worried.

When we got to the board office, I reminded her again and made her promise and pinky swear. We entered the office, and his secretary told us to go in, he is expecting us. The rear of his office has a mock-up of a beauty salon, where the test is to be conducted. He told her to look around and see where everything is, and when ready you can start. During that speech he was appraising my looks and what he would ask her to do to me. The grin and smile that is etched on his face did not speak well of what is in store for me. ‘Oh crap!’ I thought to myself.

I noticed that Jamie had used disinfectant on all the combs and brushes then dried them before she said she is ready. He asked her to start by thinning my eyebrows to a thin pencil line arched high above my eyes. He had used a marker to indicate the high point of the arch. Jamie looked at me fearfully but grabbed a tweezer after disinfecting them. She added some wax to a pot to warm up, but not in time to do this procedure.

The little stings as she thinned my eyebrows more, not bothering me, but the image I saw in the mirror would be quite a while before masculine could be used in reference to it. Jamie is pretty fast, shaping the eyebrows as she went. It turned out to be pencil thin, maybe two or three hairs wide at the widest part.

The examiner had been watching and seemed pleased at her efforts, although no verbal responses are uttered. It is obvious the marks he had made were to guarantee that the remaining eyebrow would be feminine. The mark he had placed is high above my eyebrow and more to the right of my natural high point.

The next task for Jamie is to pierce my ears, actually three piercing in each ear. Two in the lobe of the ear and one in the upper cartridge. Jamie hesitated on this one, but my smile implied that she should go on. She marked the spots and then chose the starter earrings to be put into the gun. She carefully disinfected the entire ear, donned plastic gloves so there could be no contamination and pierced all six spots. Two minutes later I am glancing at my new earrings, what Jamie picked out for me looked quite attractive.

When we had come in, I had set my purse on the counter in front of the mirror, aimed at me and where the examiner is seated. Jamie would be in and out of the picture as she worked, but his instructions would be picked up by the camera. After the piercings, she gave me a glance, I could tell that this is bothering her, but to cheer her up I told her that I just loved my new earrings. It was a way over the top voice that I used, so she started giggling and relaxed a little more.

The next procedure that he requested to be done to me was to dye my hair. I figured that was going to be one of the procedures, but was not prepared for him asking it to be a platinum blonde. I noticed Jamie swallow hard, but I reached over to squeeze her hand as she laid the chair back so she could apply the chemicals. I got a small smile in return, but also, her mouthing sorry as she started work on my hair.

I had always associated the lightest of the blondes with females that were less than intelligent; I am sure that is not true with all females, just my twisted take on the color. It took Jamie quite a while to get the hair that light, having to apply the bleach twice to get it that light. When she was finished, and the examiner smiled in return to her work she asked if she could add a tint to the hair, the flat platinum blonde hair color not right for my complexion.

She showed the examiner the tint she wanted to use, and he readily agreed. As she is applying it to my hair, she whispered to me, that I needed to trust her on this. I smiled in return, knowing how difficult this is for her. The color turned out to be a pale strawberry color, but it did look much better than the flat color before the tint.

So far an hour and a half had passed, the image in the mirror feminine but, at least, Jamie had excelled in her procedures, doing everything strictly by the book. Every once in a while, I noticed the secretary come to the door of the salon and look to see what she had done and how it was accomplished. When the examiner had taken the time to go to the bathroom, she told Jamie that her work is excellent and without fault. Jamie glowed when that compliment was expressed.

The next procedure he asked performed was to give me a cut and wet set. He handed her a picture of the style he wanted. I glanced at the picture and turned beet red. There could not be many hairstyles that could be any more feminine that the one he picked. Short in the back, long dangling curls at my ears and the rest piled on my head in a curly up do. I could see Jamie getting upset; this hairstyle would not be easy to hide or undo since there is not much hair to deal with at the back of my neck. I had always worn my hair shoulder length, in fact since my freshman year of high school.

I tried to be brave, but a tear did escape at me losing all that length. I did remember Ellen telling me that I could get extensions added if he required me to get it cut, but I knew that would not be possible when the hair is too short as it would soon be on the back of my neck. I just hope this works, I need for this guy to suffer, and nothing is too bad for him. I shed several more tears as big hunks of my locks hit the floor.

The cut did look good on me, but so different than I am used to seeing. Then Jamie started setting the longer hair on top of my head in curlers. The back is just taped into place tapering radically from the rear top of my head down to nothing at my neck level. I got to sit under a dryer for thirty minutes as my hair is drying. I was angry, not so much for what he had her do to me, but the egotistical attitude he put forth. He is determined to find something to refuse her a license. Jamie talked to the secretary for a while; then she started preparing something on the counter.

The examiner took another bathroom break, and I eased out from under the dryer and changed the tape in the camera. Too quickly the examiner returned, but I had already changed the tape and just returned to the dryer when he reappeared. I had a feeling that she had already done more than most applicants, the creep just trying to find something so he could deny her license.

When I saw Jamie preparing a table over to the side of the room, I figured my next adventure would result in losing all my body hair. While I was not one of the hairy males, what I had I was proud of. Once my hair was dry, she led me over to the table and helped me remove all my clothes. The examiner ogled my body for quite some time before he found some paperwork to work on while Jamie got ready. Jamie made quick work of my body hair, leaving only a heart shape patch directly above my male equipment. She whispered to me that she had a cute pink ribbon at home that would look delicious on my weeny. We both broke out in giggles, getting some attention from the creep and his secretary. Since no other requests came from the examiner, Jamie finished up my hair, pinning the large curls on top of my head and falling to either side of my head. A few curls brushed to the front and secured with hairspray completed the style.

He walked over to Jamie and me looking at the work and then surprised us both by asking her to pierce my nipples. I almost lost it but did barely manage to keep my mouth shut. After the shock had faded away a little, Jamie retrieved a needle, sterilized it and then pierced my nipple. The examiner handed her large hoops to insert in the piercings, and she slipped them into the new hole. As she pierced the other nipple and inserted the hoop, a group of people entered the office.

The examiner turned very pale and retreated to his desk. He told the secretary to issue Jamie her license, then pretended to do things at his desk. Once the license had been issued, and we retreated to the outer office, a woman with the group approached us and wanted to talk with us for a minute. “I am with the state Cosmetology Board and we are here investigating some irregularities that were brought to their attention.” I smiled and told her I was the one that had called the office yesterday.

She asked us to tell our version from the start, but I suggested that viewing the tape that I made might be more informative. She was surprised to find that we had made a tape of the exam but thrilled also. She got the attention of one of her colleagues, and they played the tape on the VCR they had in the office. We set in the outer office as they briefly scanned the tape, then concurred with each other as what to do. The examiner was sent home, pending criminal investigations into his behavior.

I watched the secretary smile as he left the office, and then she told the group that she could substantiate any allegations if needed, her boss had been doing this for far too long. The only reason she didn’t bring it up is that he threatened to fire her if she talked. The lady returned to us asking me if any of what was done to me is something that I desired. “No, I was just putting up with the crap so Jamie could get her license and I could get the man fired.”

She got our addresses and told us she would see us tomorrow. She did ask that I leave the results until after her meeting with us tomorrow. I told her no problem. Jamie and I left the office, and as we were walking to her car, I got attacked by Jamie. She is so grateful for all my help and so sorry that I had to put up with all the procedures. Every time I put my hand up to the back of my neck, the reality that I now had such short hair there made another tear appear. I got a kiss and hug from Jamie every time I repeated the action.

She cocked her head a little, telling me that I look quite pretty as a female, maybe I should remain one for a while. My response left her mouth gasping for air. “I told her I thought that I might convert to the dark side since I am obviously one of the prettier females in the area.”

Then I asked, “Could you set me up on a blind date, any hunk will do?” The hit I received on my arm, more likely from an athlete than a young hairdresser. Ouch.

When we got home, I went up to my room and started removing my clothes. The nipple rings the first thing that made for a problem. The left ring got caught on the blouse, with it half off and my hands caught in the sleeves, I couldn’t get the ring free. I had to call for Jamie to come and help. When she entered the bedroom, she broke into laughter. In between fits of giggling, she asked me what I wanted to be done. I was in the process of counting to a hundred to control my temper when she grabbed a hold of the other ring and twisted it slightly. My knees gave out, and I crumpled to the bed.

“Wow that is intense.” She fussed with the stuck ring and finally separated it from the blouse. Even though I could now get my blouse off, I just laid there. The feelings from the first nipple had not worn off yet, and her ministrations with the other ring had set off small bursts of tingling and goose pimples through both breasts. According to Jamie both of my nipples were rock hard. Well, yeah after what she did to me.

I eventually got the blouse off, and Jamie found me a shirt to wear that buttoned up the front. Jamie told me that she had called her Mom, and she would be by shortly after she finished her last customer. She suggested that we order some takeout for all three of us, and then my condition could be discussed and some plan for what to do next. It sounded good, now that the examiner had been punished, all of the procedures done to me, came back to haunt me. When I had a cause, I was able to displace a few of those thoughts, but now, one look in the mirror revealed how badly I had screwed myself.

The delivery guy arrived shortly before Aunt Ellen, and thankfully I didn’t have to answer the door. When Ellen got there, she appraised my looks and gave me a tremendous hug. Nothing was said, but I could tell she is shocked at the degree of my transformation. We ate in silence, and then Ellen suggested that we go to my bedroom so she could see the rest of what the clothes are hiding. Before she followed me upstairs, she sent Jamie on an errand, but I had an idea of what Jamie was going to bring back.

I stripped to bare skin, surprisingly not embarrassed to being naked in front of Ellen. “Well, he certainly had fun with you today” as she shook her head.

I told her, “At least, Jamie got her license, and that makes this all worthwhile.” She worked her fingers through my hair, examined me closely for any signs of masculinity that might be hiding. The nipple rings were looked at closely, at least, she didn’t twist them to see my reaction. Her large sigh pretty much confirmed what I thought; Sam was gone for a while. Jamie returned with two bags of clothes, exactly what I figured she was sent to get.

I suggested we get this over with. “Give me the panties and let’s get started.” Jamie giggle hugged me, and I slid the panties up my legs. Jamie couldn’t have found a more feminine pair; light pink edged with lace they looked good and felt better. Jamie helped with the bra, especially around the rings that were attached to my nipples.

Then a camisole to cover up the top of my torso, again loaded with lace. I hoped she had brought back a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but the dress that she pulled out next fit neither of those descriptions. It fit way too good, hugging my limited curves, but leaving the illusion of a female in the mirror. She slid my feet into a pair of three inch heels, then took a hand and helped me make my way across the bedroom. On the return trip, I was steady enough to handle it myself, much to Jamie’s and Ellen’s surprise.

Ellen suggested we leave everything alone till after the cosmetology board representative came by tomorrow. Dressing in female clothes might be better since my appearance is so over the top feminine anyway. We adjourned to the living room and talked for several hours about the best way to handle things. After studying my image carefully before Ellen got there, I doubted a masculine appearance could be achieved any time in the near future.

Unfortunately, for me, Ellen agreed, suggesting living as a female for the next few weeks might be the best option. Jamie felt bad about what happened to me, several times I caught tears streaming down her face. I told her that the one good thing to come out of this was her getting her license. Now I can get my hair and nails done free since I have a cosmetologist friend at the salon. She giggled, but the tears are still there, and the hug I received is genuine and heartfelt.

We talked into the night, finally giving up around midnight. Jamie asked if she could stay with me tonight, and before Ellen could protest I insisted, telling them both I didn’t want to be left alone. Ellen gave in but wanted both of our words that we would be good. I asked her when I have ever been a bad boy. She just smiled, number one you don’t look like a boy and number two Jamie is the one you have to be careful of. As that last word was escaping her mouth, she took off running for the door with Jamie hot on her tail.

That is something I have always envied in the twins relationship with their mother. It is a friendly banter that accompanies any task or discussion that transpires. Their love and respect for each other clearly shows through all of their actions.

Jamie had bought a couple of sleep shirts for us to wear, both of us slipping into them, then making our way to my bed. My makeup is removed with a couple of wipes, then some moisturizer for my skin added. We cuddled together in the bed, her behind me holding me tight. I had both of my hands on hers as she played with my nipple rings, just light tugs or twisting to make me aware of their presence. Surprisingly, the feelings are pleasant and comforting. Next, I knew it is morning, and a single beam of light had found the one opening in my window blind and made its way directly into my semi-closed eyelid. I had to wake Jamie to get her to release me so that I could go to the bathroom. As our feet and arms were untangled, I had to hurry to make it without dribbling all across the floor.

The image in the mirror as I passed it on my way to the toilet almost made me stop. It is not my usual masculine image but a gorgeous female that is reflected in the mirror. I was able to accomplish my goal, and then after staring at the bathroom mirror for a while, I made my way to the kitchen. For some reason, I decided to have some fruit today, only because Mom had bought it before they had flown from the country. It was good, probably only the second time in my life that I had willingly had eaten any fruit.

Jamie dragged in next, begging for coffee. I made her a cup of instant while I had the coffee pot churning out a decanter full for later. Normal breakfast conversation for a while, then Jamie suggested we get ready for our visitors today. I am allowed a pair of jeans and a blouse over the bra and panties. Jamie added a little blusher, and then some lip gloss, and I presumed I was ready for all.

We didn’t have to wait long; the cosmetology representative arrived a few minutes after ten. She showed us her credentials and asked if she could tape our conversation. She asked me to retell yesterday’s proceedings, in as much detail as possible. She asked Jamie to fill in any information that is pertinent. I went through the day as I remembered it, with Jamie only adding a few thoughts and details. When I was finished, she told us the reaction of the board so far. The examiner has been fired, with details of his actions forwarded to the local D.A. for possible criminal charges to be filed.

The attorneys for the board think he will plead guilty for a deal, a deal that they have specific conditions submitted for him to accept. The secretary filled in a lot of info about the abuses; she had kept detailed records of the abuses, and that is now all evidence for the possible trial. She had me state that the video evidence that I furnished was of my own doing and that I had surrendered the tapes as evidence.

Then she remained quiet for a minute, apparently trying to figure how she could approach the subject. I tried to help, “My only objective other than getting evidence against the examiner was to help Jamie get her license. With that objective accomplished, I don’t want compensation or favors from the board. I was aware of what might happen when I entered the examiner’s office, so I willingly subjected myself to possible unfavorable procedures being done to me.”

She applauded my actions and bravery, but the board feels different about the abuse dealt to you. The first thing is that they are going to upgrade Jamie’s license to instructor. Watching the tapes yesterday proved to everyone her skill, and her commitment to the standards associated with that level of license.

“Now for you, the board has authorized me to issue a check to you for twenty thousand dollars. In return, we want nothing more than a signed statement that you will not sue the board for damages in the future. Now, to the interesting part, are you planning to live the near future as a female or a male?” I responded, “As a female since the consensus of my friends, think that will be the least trouble for me.” She smiled and agreed, stating that, “Everyone thought that after your treatments the video showed only the image of a female.”

She asked if Ellen is relative, I told her no, just a good friend, with two darling daughters. She said the board has contacted her this morning, arranging to pay for any treatments, makeup, and clothes that I desire for the upcoming year. There is no limit on the services or products. Jamie is bouncing around the room, apparently that fact is something she is ready to embrace unequivocally.

She asked if I had any more questions, I nodded no and then she got out the agreements for me to sign. She is thankful that I chose not to sue the state, the examiner had put them in a difficult position, one possibly costing them millions. They still had to settle with all of the other abused people before they could relax. I signed and thanked her for handling the problem.

She left soon after that, and Jamie and I went down to Ellen’s salon. It is approaching lunch time, so we waited for Ellen to finish her present customer, then decided to go to lunch together. Right before we left Janice made an appearance. She walked up to me, carefully inspecting my appearance and demeanor. She lifted her arms and gave me a big hug squeezing the daylights out of me. As we hugged, she told me that Samantha might be a better name to use when I looked this sexy and pretty. Then, “Welcome to the sisterhood” flowed out of her mouth.

Lunch was anything but normal as the girls made suggestion after suggestion on what I should do. I had given up on returning to my male self for a while, the damage done to me making that almost impossible. Living as a girl is not high on my priority list, but circumstances as they are, that seemed my only choice. I had planned to hibernate in the house in the upcoming weeks, making as few appearances as possible in the real world, maybe remove a few things from my to do list in the interim.

Well, that didn’t fly with the group! Ellen suggested that I become a student at her shop in the work-study program she ran. Before I could nix the idea, Jamie had me smothered in a big hug, telling me what fun we could have doing nails and hair. Ellen had her instructor’s license and took in one or two wannabe stylists every year. They worked in the shop doing anything and everything while learning the basics. They had to study the textbook on their own time, but as they learned they were able to work on customers offering services at reduced rates. They were closely supervised, so no purple hair or balding customers were a possibility.

I reluctantly agreed, not my ideal way to spend my vacation, but probably better than staying cooped up in the house. Ellen had talked to my folks making them aware of what had happened, Dad laughing his head off at my situation, but Mom the more caring one asking how I am doing. When they called me shortly after lunch I told Mom I was okay; I didn’t regret my efforts even though I am paying for them now. She asked that I don’t change anything or reverse any of the procedure until she gets back. She wanted to see her daughter in person before I change my mind.

I am not sure about how long I will stay this way, several of the procedures a real trip into femininity. Then in the next few days as I was choosing a wardrobe, and experiencing womanhood from a different perspective Jamie asked me if I wanted to go the extra mile. She thought that I should stick the other foot in the water, to really find out what it is like to be a female, other than in looks. What she is suggesting is for me to live as a girl. Go to movies, date, shop, and otherwise live the life of a female.

She feels that once I see what it is like, I won’t go back. I doubted that, too many years as a male to just shuck it for the opposite sex. She gave me that evil ‘I know better than you look’ so I just had to respond. I told her that what I did for her I didn’t regret, but I am a male, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a female. She suggested, “How about the remainder of the time until your parents come back to be spent as a woman 24/7? After that, if I still want to revert back to the weaker sex, she will help and be my steady girlfriend for as long as I desire.” Now that statement got my attention.

That is something I have dreamed about for years, so I quickly agreed. The thought of Jamie and I being boyfriend girlfriend has long been a desire of mine. I was just never able to approach that subject with her. When a male can see one of his fantasies possibly coming to life all rational thought disappears and stupid things often get done. Later I would look back on this moment wondering if I had any I.Q. at this point in time. Maybe platinum blonde hair does come with a requirement of less than normal IQ. Could the dye used suck out any intelligence I had, leaving me less than smart.

It is decided the breasts of some kind are essential in my portrayal of the female sex, so that is to be corrected the next day. Since Ellen’s shop was part of Turnabout Gurl chain adding breasts would be no problem. I wish I had paid a little more attention when my options had been explained to me, the one I chose not the best for reversing at a later date. Ellen had a wedding to do preparing the bride and bridesmaids at the church where the wedding is being held at. Janice accompanied her since there are eleven females in the wedding party.

That left me with Jamie to do the breast additions. Like I said, I should have listened closer to what I was being told. When the machine was brought in, I should have stopped it altogether, right then. The wayward, soon to be a female girl, had cups attached to my chest, the pump attached to the cups by hoses pulling the extra flesh into the cups.

It was described to me later that a rigid breast like shape had been glued to my chest, right where a female’s breast would normally reside. Then fat injected into the breast like cups and hoses from the machine hooked to each cup. With the machine turned on, a slow vibrating suction started and my tissue was pulled into the cups. Five hours later the machine turned off and the hoses were detached.

I had stayed up late last night trying to think things through and was extra tired. The pulsating of the pump soon had me dozing off, and only the sound of the pump turning off brought me back to the here and now. I looked at the cups; they were jam packed full, with my breasts.

I couldn’t just refer to them as extra tissue since they closely resembled a female’s mammaries right down to the nipples. The nipples were a little smaller but protruded just as much as a females. That statement more from what I had been told, not an actual observation of a female’s nipples. Jamie is ecstatic at the results, going through bras to find just the right one for me. The cups that held the breast tissue was a new innovation of the salon; they stayed on until they dissolved a couple of days later leaving two perfectly formed breasts.

As the hoses were detached from the cups, Ellen and Janice returned to the shop. Ellen took one look and hauled Jamie by the ear to her office. I heard some loud shouting; then Ellen came to get me. She dragged me back to her office and set me in a chair in front of Jamie. She stared at Jamie telling her to get on with it.

“I got carried away with your transformation; I hope you can forgive me eventually. The treatment I performed on you gives you realistic breasts for the foreseeable future. I was way out of line in doing this to you. I knew you didn’t understand the severity of the treatment, but I went ahead anyway. I love the Samantha persona so much; I hoped if you were forced to be her for a while you might learn to enjoy it and not want to return to being a male.” With tears appearing in her eyes, “Please forgive me, you have done so much for me, and I have repaid you in the worst way possible. I love you either way, male or female, but the Samantha image just turns my body to goo. I can’t think of anything else.”

To say I was stunned is an understatement.

Ellen sends her home, then sits down with me. “I know she is out of line, but I also see a genuine female when I look at you now. I have ever since you came back from the licensing exam. I am not making excuses for my daughter; you have the right to hate her and me for not keeping firm control of her. Please set here for a while and think about what you want to be done. I will pay for any surgical removal of your breasts, and I will compensate you any way I can for your mental anguish.”

Aunt Ellen continued, “She does love you and always has, just her judgment goes off kilter when she sees you as Samantha. Since that fateful day she has not talked about anything else but Samantha. Her every word concerns you, whether you will go back to being a male or not, the girl is hopeless, hopelessly in love with you, the feminine version.”

Now, my head is spinning and I’m not sure what any of my thoughts were at that moment.

“There is pop in the refrigerator; think about it for a while. Let me know what you want and I will set the ball in motion to do your bidding. I am truly sorry for all you have had to put up with, I guess the saying is true, ‘no good deed goes unpunished’.”

As she left the office, I let out a big sigh, then leaned back in her chair and stared off into the distance. Maybe, just maybe the answer to all of life’s questions are written there for all to see. I guess Mom is going to be able to see her daughter now, with these boobs I am firmly in the female category. I wonder what she will say to me and if I will be accepted by her. Then there is my father, no comment there, I have no idea what he will say or think about my predicament.

I thought about what Jamie had done to me, all the wrong things for some of the right reasons. I could never stay mad at her for long, the crush I have had for her going back many years. I wished she would have asked first as major league breasts is a fairly severe shock to the system. Eventually, Ellen came back in wanting to know if I had decided anything.

A brush of my arm over the rigid cups was felt as if my nipple had been touched. She smiled, you will eventually get used to the heightened sensitivity, a curse for an established female, much less a new one. She handed me the bra that Jamie had picked out for me, then gave me instructions in putting it on. I felt much more comfortable with the bra on, I also never imagined me saying that to anyone. I gently moved my hands over the cups of the bra, the warmth of the breast radiating through the fabric of the cups. Tomorrow we need to re-insert your nipple rings if you still want them or the holes will close up.

Ellen had sat down at her desk, waiting for me to put some thoughts together. “I don’t yet know what I want to do. Jamie, although more gung-ho than usual, is not the problem here. I can’t seem to make up my mind about how I feel about all of this. I like my look as a female, I think I want to live my life as a female, but there is still that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that all of this is just so wrong. For me to give up on all my years as a male, just so that I can live as a female doesn’t make sense. To continue living as a male also seems like a lesson in futility.”

“I will miss Jamie too much if you keep her from me, I love her, so I guess that now makes us lesbians. I want her back, but I am going to be the one to explain what I want from her in return. She hurt me in a way, not from what she did, but for not asking me first. I have never denied her anything; I doubt that I would have this time. With regards to my future, I guess I will live 24/7 as a female at least until Mom and Dad get back; then I will discuss all of this with them and decide whether to continue. I just hope both are open to having a daughter now.”

Ellen started to smile as I said to her, “I hope you can find it in your heart to accept me for who I am, it really wasn’t my desire to cause so much trouble for you. Please don’t be too harsh on Jamie, I will handle her, and when she asks for you to do my bidding, I want your assurance that you will comply. Maybe this way she will realize how she has hurt me, and we can make a fresh start.”

Ellen called me over, and I sat on her knee at the desk, enveloped in her hug. “Jamie doesn’t realize how lucky she is to have someone like you on her side, I hope whatever you have planned will make her aware of that. If you can confide in me of your intentions, I will be glad to help my wayward child back into the straight and narrow.”

I told her what I wanted to have done to her, then what I settled on for her lesson. While thinking what I might want to do in life, I had read one of their promo circulars, it touted a breast enhancer that glued on over a female’s own breasts to enlarge the cup size. Ellen smiled, that will be perfect. Since Jamie is a smaller more petite female, her size B cups enlarged to a D cup might show her the errors of her ways. I wanted to talk to Jamie alone, then if she agreed to give her a sleeping pill so she would not know what her punishment was until it is too late to do anything about it. That corresponds directly to what she did to me.

Ellen suggested that we add glue over the entire breast, not just at the base of the forms. That way she is stuck with them until the glue breaks down, the glue not accessable to use a solvent on until that time. Ellen made the call, to have Jamie come back to the shop tonight. Ellen informed her that I wanted to talk to her, so don’t dawdle. Twenty minutes later a teary-eyed Jamie found me in Ellen’s office.

She stood there in the door, silent and immobile. I told her to come in and set herself down in the chair. After she is seated, I told her how hurt I was at what she had done to me. Not that she did it, but that she hadn’t taken the time to ask me if I would agree. I told her of some of the things I had considered having done to her. My first thought was to give her a male buzz-cut. Then I had another idea, dye her hair bright pink and give her a tight permanent. From these ideas, you can see how upset I am at what you did to me.

“I will forgive you if you submit willingly to what I choose for you. I want you to take a sleeping pill, to wake up like I did with my choice of your penance. If you agree, I will say no more about it, and we will go back to the way we were before this incident. If you don’t agree, this is the last time I will see you. Now, what is your choice?”

She muttered something, and I couldn’t make out what she said. I asked her again to speak up and tell me what you want. “I want us back the way we were. I know all of this is my fault, and I will accept all of your punishments. I do love you, and I realize how much I have hurt you. Please allow me back into your life, I will try and show you that I can be trusted and that my love for you is unwavering.” I handed her the sleeping pill; she swallowed it, and I led her to the treatment room that Ellen is going to use.

She hugged her Mom, telling her that she will cooperate with anything that I wanted to be done, even if I wanted all of the items mentioned to her. She laid back into the chair and about twenty minutes later she is fast asleep. Ellen had checked the office to make sure we had a clear recording of her agreement to my wishes. Then she removed the forms and the glue from a cabinet placing them on the table beside the chair.

She removed Jamie’s blouse and unhooked her bra. Her nipples became erect due to the cool air, ready for a little adventure. Ellen told me that we could use a remote to turn off feeling to the nipple, another way to make Jamie suffer a little. She coated her breasts, and the inside of the forms then handed it to me for me to push them over the existing breast. The slippery glue allowed the form to slide all the way down to her chest. While I was pushing the other breast on, Ellen is using some heavy makeup to hide the seams. Once finished with her additions her other breast seam is handled and we were done.

Ellen said it would take the glue about three hours to dry thoroughly, so I parked myself by her chair and waited. Ellen checked on us often, while she closed the salon and cleaned up. On one of her trips she brought me a new bra for Jamie, her old one not fitting anymore. We decided to wait until she wakes before we put on her bra, naked the breasts look so much bigger than when clothed.

She did eventually stir, the sleeping pill wearing off finally. She still is quite groggy, her first reaction to being awake is to check to see what has been done to her. Immediately she checks all of the things that I had mentioned doing to her. A big sigh is escaping her mouth when she finds all the same as before. She tries talking her voice still weak and fuzzy; then her arm brushed over her breasts. I helped her to sit up and then she saw what changes had been made. She stared at her breasts, a few tears escaping the corner of her eye. She hugged me, now aware of what I felt like when I woke up. She cried and kept repeating I am so sorry. She asked if any other things had changed, I told her, “No. However, when you look in the mirror or look at your breasts, you will be reminded of what has transpired both to me and you.”

I told her all is forgiven; the adhesive will eventually break down until then you are my big breasted lover. I expect my girl to love me without question and to take care of me. The kiss and hug that was delivered almost knocking me off my feet. She planted small kisses all over my face and ground her body against me not missing many areas of contact. She looked down at her new nipples; I brought her chin back up to look at me, no playing with the new equipment until you prove to me that you love me.

She apologizes again to me, wanting to know for how long is her punishment for. I simply point to my breasts and tell her to make a guess. She starts crying, so sorry for ignoring my feelings and doing what she did to me. I ask her how she likes her new headlights; it took her a minute to realize what I am talking about. She asks why no feeling I told her modern science, now you know how I feel, given breasts and no way to handle them without changing my whole life around.

“I might have chosen the same thing, but it would have been my choice and not what you wanted for me. Now you have larger than normal titties for your size; you can’t feel them unless I let you and you are stuck in them until the adhesive breaks down, no telling when that will be.” Just concentrate on keeping me happy, well provided for, and maybe just maybe I will let you feel your nipples sometime in the next year. She permanently attaches herself to my side and hangs on me. I do forgive her; love can do many things to a person, causing many unusual responses, including me and my sudden desire to live as a female for her.

We did not sleep together that night; I wanted to, but now is not the right time to let Jamie forget her mistake so soon after the deed had been done. Maybe a week, for her to think things through if I can last that long without her in my embrace. Clothes are the order of the day, Ellen carries a complete line at her shop, actually a separate store next to the salon. Ellen advises me of a few things that would look good on me, then just tells me to pick similar items in colors that I like. I find out for myself, the fact that most women know, you have to try everything on to find what looks good on you and what fits. A size ten in one brand a size twelve in another brand, both fitting the same on my body. Jamie comes in later, to bring Ellen her lunch, looks longingly at me, but does not say anything. I break down and ask her to help me pick out some clothes, her mood and smile almost instantly improving.

We go through rack after rack of clothes, me trying on anything that looked like it might be suitable for my new persona. I end up with ten blouses, five skirts, and nine dresses. I wanted some pants, but my accomplice begged me not to get any, I relented since the few dresses I tried on felt so good and looked even better. I found a few panties, several bras, and a slip, garter belt and stockings that would go with most of the dresses. Jamie wanted me to get more, but I wanted to wear them for a day or two first to see which ones are more comfortable, before purchasing more.

I had remembered the females in my life complaining about their lingerie, and I was determined to, at least, be comfortable in mine. I started at the salon the next day, sweeping the floor, keeping the towels at each station fresh and clean, also their supplies stocked. As the business slacked off in the afternoon, I was given some nail polish and shown how to apply it. Then I had to practice the rest of the day. Aunt Ellen kept a watchful eye on me and complimented me several times on my efforts.

Jamie had been sent by herself to pick out more new bras, then later in the day she had her first customer. I could tell she is nervous, but shortly after she started, she got into the swing of things. The male that she did her magic on loved how she had styled his hair, setting up a regular weekly appointment for the future. He lived the female role 24/7, he and his wife running a catering business in town. When she came to pick him up, she took one look at his hair style and also made a standing weekly appointment.

To say that Jamie is ecstatic about this would be the understatement of the year. When she finished with him, she worked on the styles she was going to use for the contest coming up. I noticed her several times trying to adjust the cups of her bra to get more comfortable. The new larger breasts are bothering her, just what they are supposed to do. I did get several very intense looks from her at times; I know she regrets her earlier actions. Most of her clothes still fit her but now were stressing the seams and buttons quite a bit. The items that had fit tight before no longer able to be worn.

The next few days were busy but manageable. She had several more customers, and each one of them made standing appointments for the future. I continued doing nails, mine at first then some of the customers. I received compliments on my work and ended up with several steady customers because of it. Ellen had me practicing adding extensions to my finger nails as the next logical step in my training. Two weeks later I managed to add glamour length extensions to a young male that is going to a fancy ball. He is thrilled with my efforts, and I received a twenty dollar tip. It had taken me a while to get used to working with extensions on my own nails, but once I got used to it, I felt naked without them on.

I regularly dressed as a female, my voice kind of drifted into a higher register, and I actually forgot how to talk in the lower tones. I wore heels every day, even mules at night since my tendons in my legs had started to shrink. I practiced most days with makeup, whenever I had a few moments. I was taught a few more things with regards to nails, mainly other means of attaching extensions.

Then they started me on hair. For the next week, I shampooed and conditioned hair for the stylists, taking great pride in doing a good job for them. I am frequently tipped because I took the time to massage their scalp and head. Several times I managed to get the customer to doze off. I loved the work, deciding after a couple of weeks to seek my license eventually and become a cosmetologist.

The time had flown, my parents were due back tomorrow, four weeks after they left. I was terrified, I thought Mom might eventually accept me, but Dad I was worried about. To leave on a vacation with your son left at home, only to return to a beautiful daughter not exactly what a dad envisions. They landed at the airport, Ellen picking them after their long flight. It was decided that it might be better if their first look at me is while they are at home. I am sitting in the kitchen when they come in the front door, I get up and walk to the living room. Dressed in an LBD with four-inch heels, my hair and makeup perfect with long dark red fingernails extending from my fingertips, a beautiful daughter for her parents to see.

Mom takes one look at me and runs toward me squeezing the life out of me. I am kissed all over the face, pushed back so she can get a better look at me, and then hugged again. I feel another pair of hands on me and look up to see Dad hugging both of us with a few tears sliding down his cheek. I snuggle into his embrace a little more, glad that he has not excluded me. We move to the couch, seated together and communicate the last thirty days activities to each other.

They had a good time in the Outback, but both admitted their concern and worry for their new daughter back home. Mom threatened twice to cut the trip short, to come back and help me adjust to life as a female. Ellen assured her that I was doing extremely good coping, even enjoying the beauty lessons. They decided to stay the full time but vowed any future vacation would be a family affair.

I helped Mom make dinner, a task that I had never entered into before, Mom making sure I felt alright as I helped. I could also tell she loved me helping, we talked some more, just chit chat, nothing important. Often I would catch her just staring at me, like me as a female is something that might cease at any moment. Dad did find the time to talk to me while Mom is taking a shower. He is proud of me for helping Jamie, also proud of me for making something of a horrible situation. I got a huge hug, a few of his tears dripping on my chest.

In the family discussion a couple of days later, I told them I wanted to stay as a female for the rest of summer then maybe seek some medical help to see if this is right for me. I suggested training with Ellen until I was sure of where I wanted this to go, then maybe a stint at a University.

A week later Mom came into the shop, her appointment for a manicure and a hair style. Of course, I was her manicurist, nervous as hell, but I did manage to do a satisfactory job on her nails. Then I washed and conditioned her hair for her, spending extra time on her even doing a second hot oil conditioner on her. As Ellen is doing her hair they talked about me; I managed to hear a few words that were spoken, but most of it is not distinguishable because of the background dryer noise.

At home that night, Mom dragged me to her bedroom, asking if I wanted to go to college or become a cosmetologist. It had always been Mom and Dad’s wishes for me to go to college, the first one in the family to do so. I stuttered but decided on the truth. I love the work; I think I am fairly good, and I want to go all the way to being a professional in the beauty business. Maybe own a shop one day, I have a steady girlfriend that is an instructor, we just might marry and start a family, before you get excited, it would be as two lesbians, my existence as a female too important to both Jamie and me.

What I had said didn’t really surprise Mom, she figured that would be my choice, after watching me at the salon, she thought I had made the right decision. Dad helped convert my bedroom to one suited for a daughter, he even repainted the walls a light pale green color, and bought and assembled a canopy bed for me. A couple of weeks later he started calling me his princess, a name that I am thrilled about. I was so worried that my actions and choices would distant us from each other.

Mom, though was in seventh heaven, the daughter she always desired being delivered to her while she was on vacation. We spent lots of time together, shopping for clothes, accessories, even grocery shopping. Like a good Mom she is teaching me the skills that a female might need later in life. We often talk of Jamie’s and my relationship, although she often inserts her wish that we might provide a grandchild or two for her to spoil in the process.

My training at the salon is going well, I am now working on setting hair, using a blow dryer and curling iron. Quite often, I end up heading home with my hair in curlers, so that I can experience the proper placement of the curlers and then how to brush it out in the morning. My daily regimen now has to take into consideration makeup, picking an outfit, and keeping my female figure enticing.

The secretary, at the licensing board, had been promoted to the examiner’s position, with her responsible for giving me the test. Jamie accompanied me, letting me work my magic on her. To my delight the first thing she requested of me is to dye Jamie’s hair platinum blonde.

Before the year was up, I did partake of most of the salon’s procedures, my femaleness getting stronger every day. I managed to let my hair grow out some, my wedge cut although attractive, just did not make me feel feminine enough. Since I had stayed living at home, most of what I make is put in the bank, Jamie’s income joining mine as we saved for our own house. When I got my license, Jamie and I received several surprises.

Our parents had been working on these surprises for quite some time, my getting my license the perfect time to divulge them to us. It started out at the dinner that we were treated to, after returning from the licensing board. Mom and Dad told us that they were moving to Australia, their house would be a present for us. They had made some friends there and now that her youngest daughter had been taught the essentials of being a female she felt that I could be left alone for a while. I had to promise her that when we got married that she would be able to help pick out my wedding dress. Also when the birth of children is eminent, she was to be notified.

Dad had just finished renovating the house, all new appliances, carpeting, furniture, and painting both inside and out. The times that I was asked about color choices and styles of furniture, were a clue as to what they had been planning on doing. Then Aunt Ellen unloaded the second bombshell. She and Janice had bought another salon, two towns over and they were going to move there and run that salon. It is also part of the Turnabout Gurl chain, a larger and more established clientele, with adequate managers already in place to run it. Ellen could semi retire and Janice could do what she preferred to do best that is just manage the salon.

Where Jamie had been a hands on cosmetologist Janice was never as skilled and confident with her customers. She preferred the management end, while Jamie is the get your hands dirty type. The shop here is to be given to us, for us to own and run as we see fit. She did caution Jamie that I had the better business head, that I should make the decisions and let Jamie do the training and actual work on the customers. Of course, she received the patented Jamie pout for that remark.

Our town is much smaller, the shop here did a lot of business but would never grow to be a large metropolitan salon, in our opinion. The income from the shop enough for us, to provide a comfortable living along with the lease money from Dad’s farm land. Although everybody wanted us to marry, both Jamie and I were committed to a long and exciting engagement. I had asked Jamie to marry me the night I received my license, after the dinner and surprises. We usually slept together, although we favored neither home, my canopy bed usually won out.

I tried to do it properly, getting down on one knee and asking her to be my wife. Not easy with the dress I was wearing that night. She accepted and we played like two newlyweds most of the night. The decision had been made early in our relationship that we would sleep together, but no actual sex until we got married. We each learned the skills to bring our partner to orgasm, but never did my penis find her vagina in that special way.

Part of that can be attributed to the false vagina that I wore, junior safely glued away and not reachable. The amount of abuse we heaped on her dildo, though ensured that we would have to purchase replacements regularly.

We settled into a comfortable life, both of us working hard at the salon. We had two stylists and a couple of part-time stylists when business warranted. I never did don male clothes after that fateful day, quite content to be Samantha for my soon to be wife. Things do change though, several new housing developments sprung up and a boarding school was built. We were now busy all the time, hiring two more stylists, even persuading Ellen to move back and help us.

Two months after the business increased I had an addition added to the salon, and we never looked back. I had enlisted the help of Ellen, and had my vagina unglued so that I could collect some sperm. I was going to wine and dine Jamie then ask her what she wanted, I figure when she is at the height of sexual arousal I will ask if she wants my sperm, then fill her up with a turkey baster. Ellen and Mom will get a grandchild and I will get a baby to nurse and take care of. A win-win for everybody. Well, most everybody. You have to remember that no good deed goes unpunished. Since Jamie gave me my breasts I need something to use them for besides filling my bra and providing entertainment for Jamie. Of course, I have to remember they fill out my dresses wonderfully, a necessity for this female.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Dana; Southern Belle College Coed

Dana; Southern Belle College Coed

This was my first year at a private college, although my sister has been going there for several years. I had attended a junior college for the last one and a half years, but my parents decided to send me to the private college after receiving my last report card. My grades were the reason for the change, they were less than what they anticipated, truth be known, they were atrocious.

I had passed, well barely passed was more appropriate. In fact, only one class saved my butt from being kicked out of school, that class being gymnastics where I managed a B. That lonely B kept me one-tenth of a percentage point above the minimum grade to stay in school. My sister had a 3.9-grade average, had been on the student council, a cheerleader, and a member of the school orchestra and choir.

Compared to her I was a total failure, thus the edict from my parents. Either go to the private school or pay your own way from now on. I wanted to get a better education since my prospects were less than ideal without it.

The depressed economy has made a believer out of a lot of young college students. It used to be if you had a college degree, you could get a decent job, now that same degree will get you nothing. The requirements for obtaining employment now depended on the choice of schools and the specific subjects studied. My sister's college had a long-standing record of placing graduates in well-paying jobs. At her college the emphasis was on participation, networking, communication and appearance.

Since I couldn't afford school without my parents help, I guess I will now be attending my sister's school, the Southern Belle Woman's College. The college had only recently, started accepting male students but kept the name it has had for over fifty years. I was one of those males, and now due to my poor performance, a student at a woman's college. When your friends ask where you are going to school at, the topic of conversation cannot change fast enough. Several times I had been forced to admit where I was going to school, the laughing continuing for quite some time.

I was christened Dana Jo Walker at birth while my sister had been given the name of Diane Jo Walker. We were named after two of our Mom’s closest friends since they had meant so much to her. Dana is not normally a boy's name, but I managed to get through life with only a minimal amount of teasing and bullying because of it.

One thing not helping the situation was that I was five foot nine inches tall, although I only weighed one hundred thirty pounds, clothes notwithstanding. I was not really tall for a male, but when most of your fellow students were shorter, it did give me an advantage. I got my father's blond hair, but my mother's softer features. No one in my family had much hair growth except on their head, due to some Indian heritage. Dad could never grow a beard although he tried often, and neither of us had any body hair to speak of. With my blond hair, that only accented my lack of follicular development. Blond hair and my light toned skin, and a sunburn in an instant was possible if I didn't slather on the sunscreen.

All of these characteristics plus the name Dana, then add in a women’s college, and I was suddenly knee deep in poop. Why couldn’t Diane have gone to a regular university with a normal name? I could see my next two years as a real challenge, not just improving my grades, but surviving the bigger goal.

My sister knew it was a make it or break it type of situation for me. She made a sincere effort to help me adjust to the school, knowing that it being a former woman's college would make it harder for me. She helped me pick classes that I could do well in, thus helping me get my GPA up to a more respectable level. My first semester was English Literature, Conversational French, Business Mathematics, Psychological Theories, and Female Studies. The last one was not my choice, but Sis managed to convince me that it was an easy course, with every student getting an A in it. Besides, she was sure that I might enjoy learning a little about the superior gender. That statement delivered with quite a smirk.

The first few weeks were not too bad, the subjects were not difficult, the teachers making the courses enjoyable. I thought I was on track to getting the kind of grades that Mom and Dad were expecting of me, but overconfidence had got me into trouble in the past. My last semester was a prime example of this overconfidence. I had foolishly told my parents that I was on track to obtain a C average in all of my courses. The actual results made the situation much worse, I barely managed a passing grade in those courses.

This school had always been known for the involvement of its student body in nonacademic activities. I was constantly approached by my counselor to get involved in extracurricular activities of some kind or another. The school pushed the students to get a well-rounded education, even reaching out to experience something different. I asked Sis what she thought might be of interest to me since it was obvious that my counselor was not going to let it drop.

She got this huge smile on her face, then told me she had something in mind, but she had to check on a couple of things first. She would let me know that evening. I wondered about her sometimes, usually when she smiles like that, it is not in my best interest. I do have to admit that she has not steered me wrong since I started here at Southern Belle.

The school gives out grades every six weeks, to ensure that each student knows where they stand in each class. Since today was that day, I stopped at the main office, to pick up my progress report. I was very wary of opening it since I had not convinced myself that I was doing as well as I thought I was. Sis found me at lunch in the student union, wanting to see how I was doing. I handed her the report and asked her to open it.

She giggled as she took it, opened it, and then straight-faced, told me it might be better if I found an excuse to stay away from our house until my parents had gone to bed. My facial expression went from anticipation to depression in a few seconds. She set by me at my table, rubbing my shoulders, telling me that it might not be as bad as I had envisioned it to be. Working in fast food is always a possibility.

Finally, she erupted in laughter, pointing to my face, and telling me that my expression was priceless. It turned out that I had got a 3.4 GPA for the first six weeks. She hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, telling me that I had finally found somewhere and something I could excel at. I was mad at her first, but finally saw the humor in her treatment of me. I was so uptight that I had readily bought into the fact that I had failed again. The good report lifted my spirits through the rest of the day. I was almost looking forward to going home tonight.

Both Sis and I still lived at home. Our parents were not poor by any means but insisted that we commute to keep the expenses down to a manageable level. In fact, this summer both of us got new cars. Unfortunately, they were both low-priced economy cars. Two cute little VW bugs in white, with burgundy interiors. I would have preferred something a little more masculine, but Dad got a really good deal on them. At least, it was a new car.

Sis beat me home since her last class ended an hour before mine did. When I walked in Dad had been waiting by the door. I was not allowed to go any further until he saw my grades. I slowly handed over my report, then took off for the kitchen. I guess he figured I had messed up again as he glanced at the report. Finally, he connected with the fact that I had made considerable progress in the first six weeks and complimented me on it.

That is a first for Dad, but I had managed to take any ammunition away from him. I got a big hug from Mom, her telling me that she was so proud of me. We had a nice dinner, with Mom fixing her vegetable lasagna for us, a favorite of mine. The sauce was so good; it made you want to declare yourself an Italian citizen to be able to experience it again. Diane and I cleaned up the kitchen, washing the dishes and putting the leftovers away. Then Diane asked me to come to her room.

I followed her up the stairs, then into her room. We had our bedrooms upstairs, with the master bedroom for the parents downstairs. It made it a little more private for us. We sat on her bed after she had found some music for us to listen to. Some oldies, although we were not raised in the fifties and sixties, we loved that music. As the Beach Boys serenaded us, she told me of the activities that she thought I might be interested in doing.

We had both studied music since early childhood, Diane and I both playing guitar. Since Diane played more than me she was much better, but I knew all the basics, and my fingering was flawless. That was her first suggestion that I join the orchestra. I was never a fan of orchestras, for one thing, the music they played was not my cup of tea. I started to object, but Diane told me that she had joined a small group of musicians that were playing pop music mostly. They could use another guitar, and they would love for me to join them. Apparently the orchestra encouraged these groups, as it taught the students more versatility in their musical endeavors.

Her next suggestion caught me flat footed. The school was expanding their cheerleader squad to include a few males, mainly for some of the more intricate lifts done in competition. Diane was a member of the squad, in fact, she has been on the varsity squad since she started here. She had suggested me to their coach, and I had been asked to try out for the squad. I was very reluctant to tackle this one since cheerleaders tend to be females, add a male named Dana, with an androgynous figure and face, and I could see a lot of trouble with this one.

She wanted me to do this since the girls were fairly good and had their sights set on competition, both state and national. I told her that I would have to think about it, but not to get her hopes up. I really couldn't see myself doing this.

Since I had enrolled at Southern Belle during midterm, technically a sophomore, her next idea was that I run for class council. The elections were held in the spring, with the winners serving their terms the next school year. The Council had six members from each class, a total of twenty-four individuals. From that twenty-four a council president was elected by the students, namely the council candidate with the most votes.

It is basically a popularity contest for the position of President. Since hardly anyone ran for the student council, it was usually easy to secure a seat in the body. The council handled all the student functions at the college. Homecoming, Prom, student dances, graduation activities, and all other student functions. They also helped with fundraising for several of the charities that the student council supported. Last year over thirty-six thousand dollars was raised to operate the clinic on campus for women that desired help with their pregnancy. No abortions, just help with the baby, both financial and emotional.

While we were listening to the California beach songs, I tried to reason in my mind what activities would be worth doing and what ones would interest me enough to stay enthused. Diane's musical group interested me, but to join I would also have to participate in the orchestra. I guess that could be put up with since I really liked to play the guitar. Her ensemble was playing for all the dances that the students participated in, a favorite of the attendees. I agreed to her suggestion that I join her group, with her telling me when rehearsals were for both the group and the orchestra.

On the student council involvement I left it up to her, if she wanted to run my campaign, I would participate. If it was up to me to get elected, I wanted no part of it. I thought that comment would get the idea dropped very quickly, but Diane just smiled telling me that next year I would be a part of student council. She has always been very good at organizing things, given a task she manages to find a way to get it done satisfactorily.

We talked about the cheer leading gig, with me still not wanting to participate. Sis managed to get me to come at least to the tryouts, hoping I would reconsider. That big smile of hers reappeared, announcing that the tryouts were tomorrow at four P.M. How convenient for her to bring it up, the night before the tryouts. I told her that I would indeed come to the tryouts, after my last class, but not likely to participate in them.

She went to her dresser and retrieved a lightweight pair of sweats, in a shade of green for me to wear tomorrow. My regular school clothes of jeans and a t-shirt would not allow me to move as required. I stared at the green sweats but decided just to put up with it, since I was sure that I would not make the squad, I even doubted I would try out for the group.

As I attended classes the next day, my proposed new activities were occupying all of my mental capacity. It was fortunate that a quiz or test was not on the agenda since my mind had checked out. Finally, my last class was over, and I headed for the gym, trying to remember how Diane had talked me into this.

Sis met me at the area used for their practice. I was shown to a room where I could change. Looking back at the events of the last twelve hours, I realized where I had made a mistake. I had not tried on the sweats. They fit, just a little too well. The expression that they were painted on applied. I was extremely fortunate that I had decided to wear a nylon brief, instead of boxers. Every curve of my body was on display.

When I looked in the mirror, there was no Dana in the room, at least not the masculine version. On second thought maybe just change back into my male clothes and pass on the tryouts. I looked for my male clothes, both them and Diane now missing. I gave a heavy sigh and walked out to the gym. Unfortunately, our parents had always stressed doing what we had promised, no matter the consequences.

About twenty young women greeted me, plus three males that were waiting to try out for the squad. I tried to stay in the background away from the main group. The men were told to go with one of the girls while the coach told the girls to line up. I started to head in the direction of the males but was called back by the coach. Reluctantly I joined the girls in line. I wanted to point out their mistake but was so embarrassed to be perceived as a female; I decided just to keep quiet.

The coach told a couple of the existing members of the squad to run through a couple of the routines. Of course, Diane was one of these women. I got a big Cheshire cat type of smile from her but chose to ignore her. They would show us the routine, and then we would try to copy it.

After running through twenty routines, the coach called us all together, telling us that we had all made the first cut. She wanted an individual picture of each of us, and then we could take a break while they compared notes on our performance. After our pictures had been taken, I noticed that another teacher was loading them on a laptop. Then apparently running them through a program.

Every once in a while, the coach would be called over to look at the results. Several times, they both looked over at me after one of these conversations. Even Diane was included in one of the conferences. As Diane walked over to some of her friends, a huge smile appeared on her face. This couldn't be good for me. My hopes of being rejected for the squad were looking feeble.

About twenty minutes later the coach started meeting with each individual trying out for the team. There was a lot of squealing as the girls and guys were told of their evaluation. As always, not everybody made the squad. Some of them were told they would be accepted to the JV squad, and if a position on the varsity squad became open, they would be eligible.

I ended up being last, making my nerves just that much worse. Diane was called over too, as I was being evaluated. She sat next to me and held my hand as the coach told me of her evaluation. I was told that I was more than pretty enough for the squad. My movements were fluid, and my timing was right on. Then she stopped to show me an image that was on the laptop screen. It was my head on a woman dressed as a Southern Belle. This image is what we would like to talk to you about, though.

For several years, the college has wanted to adopt an image as a mascot. Since the name of the college is Southern Belle, what better mascot than a real Southern Belle. When the student council came to Coach Jameson with their request, it was envisioned as a lady from the old south, dressed as a Southern Belle, dancing along with the cheerleaders encouraging the students to join the game, and support the school.

They have had no one that might be able to bring this mascot to life until now. Coach Jameson was looking me directly in the eyes, as she finished that statement. I quietly informed her of her mistake in presuming that I was a female. She smiled, informing me that Diane had told her of my true gender yesterday. Now I was lost, they know I am a male, yet they want me to portray a female mascot. Since a few of the other cheerleaders were hanging around near our conversation, it was decided to move to the coach's office. Once there, I reminded them of the obvious fact that I am not a female.

Diane asked the coach if she could explain it to me. The coach agreed with Diane, as she stated the obvious to me. You are eminently qualified to portray our mascot, you have the moves, you are the right height, and you have the strength to dance the routines wearing a much heavier costume than the typical cheerleaders outfit.

My mind finally started adding one and one and getting two. I guess it would require someone with a bit more energy to dance the routines wearing a large voluminous dress. The dress in the altered picture had a huge skirt, maybe five feet across, being held out with lots of petticoats. It has been the intention of everyone involved in this to keep the identity of the mascot a true secret. Diane, Coach Jameson, and I, if I accept, the only ones to share in the identity of the Southern Belle.

I stupidly asked if I accept what will I have to do, besides wearing the costume at functions. Diane again pointed to the image on the laptop. The dress, of this era, typically showed a lot of cleavage. So titties would be required, also, since the underwear would be on display a lot of the time, as the skirt is maneuvered during the routines, a feminine lower torso would have to be portrayed. The fact that other than a laptop image, no actual work through has been accomplished, it would be a learning experience as I get into the role.

She imagined that living the role 24/7 would probably be required to keep in character. Now I began to squirm a little. The idea of being the mascot had been fascinating, maybe something I might enjoy. To live as a woman 24/7 to be that mascot, not so much. I told the coach I doubted that I would be interested, but I would think about it. I would let her know in a couple of days my decision.

I gathered up my clothes, as they suddenly re-appeared next to my backpack and headed to my car. Diane caught up with me as I entered the parking lot, asking me to come with her to dinner. She wanted to talk to me and not at our home. I was a little hungry but told Diane that I would not change my mind. She insisted that she just wanted to talk about it so that I had all the information to make an informed decision. I eventually gave in, with us leaving my car in the parking lot and took her car to a little diner several blocks from the campus. Although it was the student’s favorite hangout, busy at lunch, but in the evenings the crowd was sparse. She found a cozy booth in the front corner, near the window, but not conspicuous.

Drinks were ordered while we decided what we were having to eat. After ordering our meals, Diana started the conversation. She wanted to know why I was so dead set against the idea. My reply was duh, living as a woman 24/7 just might have a little to do with it. Her reply, if you haven't tried it, how can you discard the idea. Diane, I am a male, at least in name and body.

After seventeen years of living as a member of the male sex, then change over to the female lifestyle scares me to death. I know nothing about living as a female, just the idea frightens me. We paused as our drinks are delivered, then resumed with Diane trying to get me to see that it would not be that much different, then the life I am presently living. I tell her that is absurd. I don't dress as a female, wear makeup, or get the attention that men give females.

We are interrupted again as our food is brought to us. We paused our conversation as we ate our meal. The food here is real good, not the typical fare. Diane ordered the Chicken Mushroom Swiss Burger while the Avocado Monterey Jack Burger was my choice. I know neither of the burgers was good for a feminine figure, but they were so good, besides I had not agreed to join the cheerleaders. After the waitress had removed our plates, our discussion resumed.

I asked her point blank why she was so determined in getting me to live as a female. There was silence for several moments as she debated what her response was going to be. Finally, she blurted out because you are a woman at heart, and you need to finally face the situation. That left me speechless. I was getting ready to protest the accusation, when the part of my mind that keeps all of my deepest secrets, decided at that moment to interject its two cents with, but not with my approval.

All of a sudden, I was not sure that all of this was wrong. Doubt can be a mighty force to be reckoned with and always at the most inconvenient times. The fear was still there, believe me, but I was no longer sure that this was as wrong of a choice as I had envisioned it to be. Being a female and my sister, Diane could smell victory and just smiled. I wasn't ready to give in yet, but I was very aware that I was wavering.

I finally conceded that I would try the idea out, but if I looked ridiculous or couldn't handle the costume it was over with. I was shocked at how fast Diane moved, as she attacked me giving me a kiss and hugging me until I was nearly out of breath. Her first words were tomorrow; we will find out how convincing Dana can be as a female. Your appointment is at eight A.M. in the morning to be feminized, and we will know whether you passed by lunch. Great, something more to dread, but in a way I was looking forward to it, I just didn't know why.

Apparently, that is what she and Coach had determined to be the next logical step in making the mascot, namely me a part of the squad. The task of turning me into a more believable female had been given to Diane since the identity of the Southern Belle was supposed to be a secret. The fewer people involved, the better.

Eight A.M. came way too early, in fact, is was more around seven when she dragged me out of bed. I was told to put on sweats, tennis shoes, and nothing else. I was handed a glass of OJ by Mom as Diane, and I left the house. As the door closed, I did hear Mom say, have fun girls. I gave Diane the evil eye but have never been able to do it as well as the true females of the family. We got in her VW and took off for a destination unknown, at least, to me.

About forty minutes later, we pulled into a private drive leading up to a Victorian house that rivaled many a movie mansion. There was a valet, a lovely petite woman to get our doors, and then park the car. We walked up to the two large doors, adorned with intricate scroll work, and then into a lobby that was just fabulous. Diane told the receptionist that I had an eight o'clock appointment. She checked her computer, then told us to go up the stairs, and our stylist would meet us there.

What I noticed on the wall was a sign touting the name of the salon. It read Turnabout Gurl, where we bring out the feminine in you. As we passed a couple of the rooms where the doors were open, I saw several customers getting hair styled, nails done, or makeup. A very beautiful woman met us, a few more feet down the hall. She led us to another room and opened the door for us. There was a beauty equipment scattered along the walls of the room, and a padded table in the center.

The table was what you would expect to see at a doctor's office. I was asked to remove all of my clothes and set on the table. I waited to see if she or my sister was going to leave the room, apparently that was not in the cards, so I began to strip. Now down to my birthday suit, I set on the table. Gloria introduced herself, then asked me to lay back on the table. First on the schedule was removing all of the hair from my body.

I was asked what method I preferred, waxing or chemical. Before I could respond, Diane told her that chemical would be the one I would chose. Gloria looked at me with a puzzled expression, then got the necessary supplies to perform the task. Gloria started with my back after she got me to turn over. The cream was rubbed into my skin, not missing a single spot on my backside. I was informed of the need for me to lay perfectly still until the cream could perform its task. After about thirty minutes, she started removing the cream using small towels.

When she finished, she took a washcloth and wiped any excess off, then rubbed a soothing lotion all over my posterior. Next I was asked to turn over, and my front was subjected to the same treatment. After finishing my front, I was able to see the results. The simple act of removing all of my hair changed the appearance of my body drastically. I looked softer and curvier, definitely not what a male was supposed to look like. I never had much body hair, but when what little you do have is removed the difference is quite noticeable.

If it had stopped there, it might have been bearable. The smooth skin all over my body was feminine, a touch to my skin sent shivers all over my body. There seemed to be a lot more than hair removal on the agenda for today as Gloria made preparations for the next procedure.

Gloria told me to relax for a while as she finished setting up for the next treatment. Several boxes were removed from the cabinets and a light on a stand was moved over to the side of the table. She marked several spots on my chest with a marker and also along my male appendage. Then a spray was applied to each area,also applying the spray on several items she removed from the boxes, on the counter. She excused herself and told me to relax; she would be right back.

I tried to get Diane to tell me what she was doing, but my sister was being coy, not telling me anything that I hadn't already observed. Several minutes later she returned and lifted two of the items off the counter, then placed them on my chest where she had made the marks. She lifted my hands and placed one each on the breasts now adorning my chest. I was told to hold them until the adhesive set. I was shocked, I had boobs, breasts, whatever you wanted to call them and they were being attached to my body.

Part of my mind was yelling and screaming, you’re a male, and males do not have breasts. The rest of my mind was apparently absent without permission. I just laid there with my hands on my breasts, in a totally different world from a few minutes ago.

Gloria meanwhile had split the table at my crotch, creating two halves. She pushed the halves apart until it formed a V. She stepped in between the two halves and started attaching something to my groin. My mind was still glued to my hands on my titties, only faintly realizing that something was now covering my penis. Finally, things started to come together, and I raised my head to look at my groin. Then I promptlyfainted.

When I came to, Gloria had one hand, and Diane had the other, and they were trying to calm me down. It took several minutes for my mind to get back to the place where I was when I fainted. I lifted my head again, trying to see if what I saw before was an aberration. Nope, it wasn't, I now had a very feminine slit, which was very obvious since all of my body hair had been removed. I started to panic again, but Diane managed to get me to focus on her, as she told me everything was going to be alright.

She told me that I still had my equipment, but now it was concealed by my vagina. My vagina, now that was a statement to consider. To all who now viewed my body, I was female that brought out the tears in buckets. Diane held me as I bawled, rubbing my back as she tried to comfort me. Twenty minutes later, I managed to stop the tears and looked her in the eyes. I wanted to know why I had to do all of this to be a stupid mascot for the school. Gloria slipped out for a minute or two while Diane tried to explain things to me.

You can't just show up dressed as a female, especially if they can see you are not a real female. I am sure you remember back in high school when several of the football team decided to pick on you because they thought you were gay. Now fast forward to now. You show up half female, half male, and you are going to pay a severe price. If you look like a genetic girl, you will be the focus of many a male, but it will be manageable. Would you rather fight off romantic interest, or fight for your life. That is your choice.

I managed to compose myself somewhat, and shortly after that Gloria returned to the room. I was asked to sit at one of the tables along the wall. It had bottles of fingernail polish on it and all of the other tools for doing manicures. Gloria took my fingers, inserting them into a bowl to soak. Diane and her discussed shades of polish as my fingers soaked in the liquid. Gloria lifted my right hand out of the bowl, drying it off, then started filing the nails.

She shaped them into nice ovals, after removing the cuticles around the edges. Then she went through a box of fake fingernails, finding the right size for each of my fingernails. She applied superglue to the nail and the extension, then fitted them to my fingers. They extended, at least, a half inch past my fingertips. Then the light was moved over to the table and turned on. It was an ultraviolet light casting a purplish glow to my hand. My left hand was next, her doing the same thing to those fingers. The left hand was inserted under the light, joining my other hand.

Gloria asked if the accessories were just temporary or long term. Diane responded long term, as the situation stands now. I wondered what they were talking about. What accessories were they referring to, and what was long term. I looked directly at Gloria and asked her what she was talking about. She glanced at Diane, then responded to me. Your hair removal is semi-permanent. The chemical kills off the hair follicles, only a few hairs will regrow. After a few months, they will also die.

Your breasts and false vagina are removable if the right glue is used. I had instructions to use the better glue. With no hair, there is no reason to remove the forms, what we also refer to as accessories. Since the better glue was used, it will keep them secure for at least six months. The forms use a synthetic skin that breathes just like real skin would. It also transmits touch to the underlining tissue. You will feel when someone touches your breasts just like a woman would.

To my horror, I was told that my new vagina can be used for sex, with me being able to feel everything inside of it. With regards to your new nails, they are permanent with the gel glue we used. The UV light sets the gel, making the nails bond with your fingernails permanently. The pale pink polish is semi-permanent, but you can use other colors, and change them as needed to match your clothes.

Way too much information for me to process. First thoughts indicate that I will be living as a female for quite some time. I started to get mad at Diane for pushing this on me, but sitting here at the table; I feel good about things. I look down at my new breasts, yes, my new breasts. They look good, and as I move a little to look at them, they move with me.

Having my male equipment tucked away feels a little different, but for some reason, I don't miss it. I never was a male that lived only for his male appendage. The fact that I never got into the masturbation thing was an indication that I just wasn't interested in sex that much. I won't have to worry about it now since everything is neatly tucked away and inaccessible.

Diane was staring at me the whole time that I was running all this information through my mind. We have been always close, too close in some instances, but able to know what our counterpart is thinking. Her smile was infectious as we all moved to Gloria's styling station. As we exited the room, Diane moved next to me and reached over to pinch my newly acquired nipple.

I was shocked when I felt it, but the real shock was the sensation that moved through my entire body. I felt faint, weak in the knees, and the sensation seemed to go on and on. Diane ended up supporting me until I could regain my bearings. I looked up to her, trying to see her expression. She mouthed the words; you haven't felt anything yet, then smiled that Cheshire cat smile of hers.

Gloria's styling area was a small room attached to the first, but with different equipment. I was seated in a typical salon chair, then covered with a smock to cover me up and keep any cut hair from sticking to me. She proceeded to comb through my hair and make small sections, clipping each section separately. Then working from the back, she would undo each section, cutting the hair to even its length, then move on to the next section.

After she had done each section, the chair back was lowered, and my hair was shampooed and conditioned. A towel was placed around my hair and the chair was returned to the upright position. Gloria next combed my hair to remove any tangles, then proceeded to put my hair in curlers. The curlers were quite large, my hair wrapped around each curler three times. The hair around the nape of my neck was put into a little smaller curler, but the curler was placed up and down instead of sideways. I had a bad feeling that I would soon look a lot like a famous child movie star.

The dryer was scooted over behind my chair and then lowered over my curlers. Gloria handed me a magazine, it was the latest edition of Glamour, then turned on the dryer. The heat was comfortable, but not obtrusive. Of course, I couldn't hear anything other than the sounds of the air assaulting my hair in the curlers. I tried to read the magazine, but the things happening to me were more of a concern.

Why I hadn't tried to stop Diane was puzzling me. I had just went along with what she had suggested, now sitting under a hair dryer, with titties and a vagina. Not to mention the nail polish and lengthy nails. Trying to turn the page of the magazine, my hand had brushed up against my breast, the problem was I felt the touch. It was like the breasts were real, impossible you say, but the feeling was there. Gloria checked the dryness of my hair several times, finally decided that my hair was dry enough. The dryer was turned off and pushed back to the wall.

She removed the curlers, but the curl stayed intact, actually the curl was tighter than it was on the curler. With a pick, she began to loosen the curls, pulling them out a little. If the curl persisted she used a little heat to persuade it to obey. She went through all of the curls each getting attention, then she started back again going through all of them again. When she finished I was covered in hairspray as my entire head was doused in the cloud of mist. I managed to catch glimpses of my image in the mirrors when I was turned in the chair. I knew they were trying to keep my look from being seen until they had finished, but from what I caught small glimpses of I looked like a grown up Shirley Temple.

Next Gloria worked on my makeup, adding layer after layer of foundation, blush, eye liner, mascara, eye shadow, lip pencil, and finally lipstick. It felt funny in a way, but not that unusual. I did key in on the lipstick, my lips were slippery and had a distinct taste to them. Diane told me to thank Gloria, which I did, and I was led to another part of the salon.

The area which we entered was more luxurious than the rest, carpeted with exquisite furniture in groupings scattered around the room. Wallpaper and framed paintings adorned the wall. There was racks of clothes next to several of the groupings, and to one of these I was led. I remind you that I was still naked, since the cape that had hid my lack of clothes was left with Gloria.

A rather tall woman approached us and Diane introduced us. Her name was Karen, she would be my fashion consultant for today. She went right to work, measuring me with my enhancements. She then went to the rack and started selecting garments for me to put on. The first was a ruffled panty, and I do mean ruffled. My whole rear end was covered in layer and layer of lace. Next was what I would call a slip, but only covering my chest down to my waist. I was told that was called a chemise.

Diane grabbed my hand and led me to a rail running along the wall of the room. I was told to steady myself and raise my right foot. As I did so a shoe was slid on to my foot and a buckle was fastened around my ankle. Soon my other foot sported the match. I knew it was heels since when I put my foot down I suddenly became taller. Diane supported me a little and I was led back to the middle of the room.

Then Karen pulled out several very large slips. I stepped into each and they pulled them up to my waist. I could not see any of my lower extremities with all the layers of fabric. The final piece of clothing was the dress. It was not on the rack that Karen had been pulling from, the reason being it was too large to fit there. The top of the dress was a tight fitting bodice that just barely covered my assets. From the waist down, there seemed to be yards and yards of material gathered to the narrow waistline.

They had to drop it over my head to get it on my body. It took both of them to manage that, since my hair and newly made up face had to be avoided. Diane straightened the dress and Karen pulled up the zipper at the back of the dress. I thought they were done, but Karen then started buttoning the sixty-five little buttons up the back, apparently covering up the zipper. My first thought was how I would ever get in and out of this dress by myself.

Karen and Diane conferred for a few minutes and then I was led over to a grouping of three mirrors. As I approached the mirrors I noticed a gorgeous woman approaching the same mirror. It took me a few minute to realize that the image in the mirror was me. I stuttered, I gasped, a feminine squeal suddenly erupted from my lips, and then I fainted.

When I returned to the now and present Diane was comforting me as I laid on the floor. When she saw I was waking up she smiled, at me then in her best I told you so voice commented, that I turned out far prettier than any of the girls had thought. They helped me up to a couch near where I was sitting, but I found with that much skirt and slip I could only gently lean against the couch. I knew that I was supported some, but I could only feel the slips against my buttocks and legs. We talked for a while with several sales associates commenting on how pretty I was.

Finally things seemed to return to normal, whatever that was, and Diane suggested that we see what type of movements I could handle. We tried dancing a little and I was able to handle the skirts in a ballroom type of dance. Anything else didn't show since the skirts covered everything up. Next we tried some of the cheerleaders routines, but again with the huge skirts, nothing was seen other than some upper body movement on my part, but hand movements were seen.

About that time, the cheerleader coach came in. Her mouth came open as if she was trying to say something, but no words were heard. She did manage to regain speech eventually, complimenting me on my appearance, then asked Diane if I could perform any of the moves that had been planned for the mascot. Diane and I showed her what we had tried, with her agreeing that would not be an option. She and Diane sat talking for a while on the couch that I wished I could set on, but since I was stuck in the upright position I walked around the room a little.

My heels were alright, but just standing made them hurt far more than walking around. I was daydreaming like I usually do, swaying to the music that the dress salon had piped into the room. For some odd reason I started pretending that I was a real girl in a beautiful dress at a grand ball. I pretended that I was dancing with my partner and he was swinging me around as we moved around the dance floor. Then when the music stopped before starting on the next track, I pretended to reach up to my partners face and kissed him. My lips were puckered for the kiss, my eyes closed, then I felt his lips on mine.

I swooned and then twirled around a couple of times, then to my horror Diane started laughing. I opened my eyes and both her and coach were giggling at me. Diane had jumped up and was the one who had kissed me. Diane told Coach that I often did that, the daydream part at least, that was how crazy I was. Then both her and Coach seemed to think of something and were soon huddled in conversation. I heard bits and pieces, but did not understand what they were saying.

Coach went to retrieve her digital camera, wanting to take pictures of me as the Southern Belle. They had me pose in every way imaginable, even taking a few as I danced around the floor. After reviewing the pictures taken it was decided that they had enough to show the rest of the college people. I was helped in changing into a more traditional female costume, a pair of black pants, matched with a black and gray sweater.

I know for one thing, it was considerably lighter, the belle dress with all the slips was extremely heavy. I touched up my lipstick and they dragged me off to the mall after they toned down my hairstyle. The mall was to test if I could pass as a female without detection, a fete that I didn't think would happen. After three hours at the mall, countless changing rooms, and a multitude of different outfits, the verdict was in. No one even hinted, that I was anything other than a genetic female.

I guess that sealed my fate, unless the college didn’t approve of the image for their mascot, I was assured the role. We headed home, then it hit me, I had to face Mom and Dad looking like a female coed. I am sure that will not go down well with Dad, although he has never openly pushed me to be a typical male, I know my reluctance at participating in any sports has left him slightly disappointed in me. As we got closer to the house, my fear became more real, getting out of her car, I was sweating and my stomach is doing flip-flops.

I entered the house, Diane pulling me along. Since she yelled we are home as she entered the house, there is no chance for me to escape to my room. Then I thought with the permanence of some of the things done to me, it wouldn’t do me any good anyway. What I postponed tonight I would have to face in the morning. Dad came out of the living room, looked me over from head to toe, then approached me and to my shock hugged me.

I stood there, mouth open, and let myself be hugged. It was done tenderly, holding me gently and pulling me closer to him. Then Mom came out of the kitchen and attacked me. She oohed and awed as she carefully scrutinized my appearance, pushing Dad farther away so she could take in all of my appearance. I was also hugged by her, with her whispering in my ear that I am so pretty. Never once in all of that time did my mouth find its way closed. I was in awe, my parents were not shocked, accepting that their son of eighteen years was now apparently their daughter.

Mom dragged me over to the couch and set with me, still looking at my changes and smiling that big smile that Mothers often sport with regards to their children. My mouth finally closed, but ten million questions seemed to spring to life. How did this happen, are these my real parents or did they get replaced somehow?

Diane had set in one of the side chairs in the living room, smiling at the actions taking place, apparently she had a lot more to do with this change than I ever thought possible. I guess I had been manipulated, by the master, not even seeing where any of this was possible several days ago. Now I am firmly entrenched as a college coed, quite a nice feeling I might add.

I did become the Southern Belle mascot, dancing away at every game. They found a male dancer to accompany me, we mainly did waltzes at breaks and halftime. Then I would join the crowds after the game. In a way I enjoyed the attention, getting hugs and sneaky kisses all evening. When the school had a dance or at homecoming and prom I was there, my dance card more than full for the entire evening. Eventually my identity leaked out, the male attention now even more than before I was the mascot.

Although she won’t admit it I am sure Diane is jealous of me, her brother prettier than her and can pick any boyfriend she wants from among her many male suitors. We are still very close, I had assured her I will speak to a couple of my male admirers and get her a dreamy date for prom. Now as soon as the bruise on my arm fades away I can wear sleeveless tops again. Sisters can be so moody at times, just because her former brother is prettier than her. I can’t help it if I am gorgeous.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Danielle; Coming Out To Sis

Danielle; Coming Out To Sis

I had finally worked up the courage to submit to one of my fondest fantasies. Now two years out of college, employed as a real estate agent for a local company, I had a little stability in my life. The fantasies I had earlier in life were calling, wanting to be experienced before much longer. The college degree didn’t help much, yeah it looked good on my resume, but that was about it.

The real estate agent job was a bit of luck, a former professor of mine started it two years ago, found the right people to make it viable, and soon quit her job at the university. I was invited to join the group, helping what I could while taking a class to get my real estate license. Six months later I became an agent and started selling properties. I had reasonable success, selling my first property a month later.

Her business has grown exponentially, now the leading real estate broker in town. Since the other agents preferred to not work the weekends, I volunteered to do so leaving me several days during the week to indulge my fantasies. Up to now it was mainly dressing up in my ever expanding wardrobe of feminine clothes and spending some time in my back yard paradise.

I had a sister in town, her job at a beauty salon requiring most of her time. She had quite a following, built up over the years, able to command quite a fee for her services. She often worked weekends, having many special requests for hair and makeup for weddings and special occasions. I envied her in more ways than usual, if only I could take advantage of her services. So close to the help I needed yet so far away. She would never understand my need for the feminine things in life, so our limited interaction as brother/sister probably the best I would get in life.

We talked by phone once a week or so, just about what was happening in our lives but nothing more. Maybe once a month one of us would invite the other to a luncheon out on the town, but even that was tending to fall by the wayside. Over the last six months, we had only three luncheons, one or the other of us having something else to do and couldn’t make our schedules cooperate.

I had decided I need help with my hair, it was now to my shoulder blades, always worn in a low ponytail for any dealings with customers of the real estate company I worked for. Most of the time I was accepted as someone to help them, a rare occasion when one of the customers would ask for someone else to represent them. I kept the ponytail tucked in my shirt, so it was never very visible, thus not an issue with most customers.

There had been a new salon opened in town several months ago. The Turnabout Gurl Salon advertised that they performed most any beauty treatment on most anybody. The ads showed various people with cute feminine hairstyles, gorgeous makeup and absolutely perfect bodies. The logo at the top of the ad showed a male walking into a salon, and a female walking out. I guess that could be interpreted several different ways, but I assumed that they were just referring to their skills at what they did.

I wanted to experience a female hairstyle once in my life, figuring that at the worst I could have it cut short again if it was too feminine and or would interfere in my work. Kimberly, the lady I worked for is easy going, since she pays by commission only, if an agent does something to affect their sales, the agency doesn’t suffer, just the agent. I had made two fairly large sales recently, my bank account comfortable, at least, for now. So if it turned out to be a disaster, I could lay low for a while.

I chose the salon because their advertisements touted a computer that would scan you, suggesting styles that would complement your features best. They also offered a hair analysis, what products you should use to keep your hair in tip top shape. When I called to make an appointment I talked with one of their advisors as she answered all my questions and then some. The appointment was for later today, my nerves on edge, something like this way out of my comfort zone.

I did manage the courage to actually go to the salon, enter and wait to meet my advisor. I was taken back to a room in the back, where she told me what they could do for me. Her name was Stephanie, a regional advisor for Turnabout Gurl.

“I suggest the full body scan, then the computer can advise on other things besides your hair. There is no charge for the service and you do receive a full color picture of your body as it would be as a female. It takes about twenty minutes to do the scan, then the computer will show your available options. After you have decided on your options, the computer will print your picture as a female. Can I do that for you today?”

I nodded my head, since the thought of getting a picture of me as a female was a very enticing treat. Stephanie suggested that I undress and stand in front of the screen to my right. I blushed several shades of red but did do as I was instructed. She told me to relax and the computer would soon have my image in its memory.

She stepped out, the computer came to life and a beam of light moved over my body starting at my toes and ending up at the top of my head. After the computer shut down, Stephanie showed back up handing me a gown to slip over my head. Another blush, but it did make me feel a little better to have some kind of a cover-up on my body. The gown was silky, now I had goosebumps to deal with along with a male organ that was really enjoying the silky gown.

She went through all the options, having me select the ones I liked the most. There were about forty options available for me, after a while I kind of lost track of what I was choosing. Then the computer whirred to life and a picture of me as a female appeared on the screen. I instantly had tears appear at the corners of my eyes, a lifelong desire looking back at me from the screen. If only it was the real me. What services do you want today? You were originally scheduled for a deluxe hair styling, is that all you want or would you like to add more to the list?”

I stuttered a while, not really knowing what to say. I was tempted to ask for it all, but that might be more than I could handle mentally. I finally settled just for the hairstyle, then if I liked it and didn’t die in the next day or two I could come back and take advantage of some of their other services. I pictured all of this in my mind, the die part was not that far fetched. With the hairstyle that the computer had shown me I would definitely not be the same person when I left the salon. A radical change indeed.

“A shampoo tech will be in shortly to wash and condition your hair adding the necessary treatments to keep it looking shiny and healthy. Then a stylist will come in and give you the style you picked out. Plan on being here about three hours, the stylist will take your picture, a remembrance of today for you before you leave.”

I enjoyed the shampoo and treatments used on me in the next hour. At least five different conditioners were applied, some were left on for fifteen to twenty minutes to deep soak into the hair. The massage she gave as she worked the treatments into my hair was heavenly. I was almost asleep when the stylist entered the room.

“Danny my name is Gwen and I will be your stylist today.” As she saw who I was, a larger than life smile appeared on her face. I was looking at my sister. Of all the people to do my hair and I ended up with my sister. I started to get up to leave, but she pushed me back down. I knew I would never hear the end of it, so the sooner I got away the easier my life might be.

She leaned forward, looking directly into my eyes. “Sit still, I have a job to do and I will make sure you look as good as your picture. She put a cape around me and started to comb and section my hair. We talked about everything but me, what I was doing in the salon and why I was getting a feminine hair style never was a part of our conversation. The weather was discussed, the latest styles to hit the fashion runways and the price of groceries. She did touch on why she was working here now, their technology and treatments, plus their advertising second to none in the industry.

Once she expressed interest in joining the salon, she was actively recruited. “If I had known that my sis comes to this salon I would have come here sooner.” That statement delivered with no malice and a large smile on her face. Now I was worried this is not the sister that I was raised up with, nope no way. Maybe a clone but my sister has never been nice to me other than for a few seconds in her life. We are talking a major earth shattering event here, stop the presses, and call up the TV stations for a late breaking story.

She cut my hair in the desired manner, then started wrapping the hair on curlers. The style would be layered, keeping all of the available length, but it would frame my face softening my masculine looks. Forty minutes under the dryer, sis checking my hair often to see if it was dry enough. Back to her styling chair, the curlers were removed, as she coated my hair with hairspray. It took her over an hour to get the curls positioned the way she wanted them. Several more applications of hairspray were added, making sure the hairstyle would stay as she wanted. She left for a minute, then returned with a digital camera. Several pictures were taken of me, appearing on one of the screens at the front of the salon.

I had tears leaking from my eyes, a lifelong desire finally realized. Sis leaned in and hugged me, asking me to stay in the front of the salon and wait for her. She had one more customer then she was off. “You are coming to my apartment tonight, we have so much to catch up on.”

I tried to decline, but she would not hear any excuses. She reached into my back pocket, removed my wallet and keys placing them in her jacket pocket. “There, now you have no choice.” I was led to the front of the salon and seated in one of the chairs in the front window. I was facing the salon, but my head was visible to anybody walking by. She giggled as she told me to stay, like you would to a child or dog. I have seldom seen her this happy, so I took a chance and stayed in my seat like a child waiting for my parent.

The next hour passed quickly, as I watched many males transform into gorgeous females. I was brought to my senses as Sis leaned in and applied a coat of lipstick to my lips then led me from the salon. She stopped at a drive thru to pick up something to eat, a Chinese place that we both frequented often. Then on to her apartment, as she was pulling into her parking spot I realized that I had left my car at the salon. Oh well, I can pick it up tomorrow. I carried in the food as she got the mail and her door.

I got some plates and silverware to the kitchen bar, then set out the little cartons of food. Sis returned after changing her clothes, walking right up to me and hugging me tightly. She held the embrace for quite some time, I did not protest, if felt so good. We chatted as we ate the goodies, her wanting to know all about this side of me. I was kind of tight lipped to start with, but soon my tongue loosened up and before I knew it I had told her everything.

No comments from her, which surprised me greatly. “So are you coming in with me tomorrow so we can finish the transformation or are you going back into hiding?” I looked at her, waiting for the normal reaction that I came to expect from her, it never materialized.

I tried to beg off, I did have my job, and doing it with an extremely feminine hairstyle was probably not the smartest idea. She told me then to just do the job as a female. I started to argue the point, but maybe I could. The image I see in the mirror is definitely female, my voice is somewhere in between the two sexes, so theoretically it could be done. But it is a big maybe and I am not a risk taker. A female hairstyle and cut maybe could be dealt with, combing it into a somewhat masculine style, but to appear in female clothes as a woman to work might be beyond my assessment of a reasonable risk.

When I didn’t respond she picked up her cell phone and made a call. Once they answered she went into the kitchen out of my range of hearing. I could hear some talking but not what was being said. Then some silence and another call, although the conversation was much briefer.

When she re-appeared she had a smile on her face. Tomorrow at eight AM Danielle has an appointment, by noon there will be no male image left. At one-thirty you have a luncheon date with your boss as Danielle. Daniel is dead as of this moment, while you are at your luncheon appointment I will be at your apartment getting rid of your male clothes. Don’t thank me, just live your life as your true self and forget the rest. Then we can spend the rest of the day shopping for your new wardrobe.

We talked well into the night, finally when I was caught yawning for the tenth time I was dragged to her spare bedroom, undressed and given a nightie to wear. I used her bathroom, brushed my teeth and admired my feminine hairdo. With a big sigh I plodded back to the bed, crawled under the covers and was instantly asleep. I felt someone join me during the night, her warm body cuddled up close to me. It felt so good, a pleasant feeling that sis and I have never shared in our lives.

I got dumped out of bed when the alarm went off, her telling me to get a move on, or she would leave me here. I took a shower, using a shower cap to keep my new hairdo perfect. Sis poked her head in, giving me an appraisal of my body, then handed me a stack of clothes to wear. I almost squealed when I saw the lacy panties and bra, they looked so delicious. With them on the next item was a cute skirt, followed by a sleeveless blouse. Both were aqua in color, a shade that no male would ever wear. Again the lipstick and I was dragged out her door.

No breakfast this morning, she was so anxious to get me to the salon. As soon as I got there she led me to the back and into the same room as yesterday afternoon. Another lady was waiting for me, plastic gloves on her hands and a large jar of cream on the edge of the table. Sis made sure I was naked, my attempts to slow her down were met with determination and resolve. Then when I kept my arms together to keep any more clothes from being removed, my hands were swatted to keep them out of her way.

I was flipped over and she paddled my fanny. She hits hard and soon I was screaming for her to stop. She got in front of me, looked me in the face and I received her message loud and clear. I laid there as my few remaining clothes were removed, then the cream was smoothed all over my front side. It was left on for twenty minutes, then she used a towel to remove the hair from my body. Sis had left me alone for a few minutes, but she did check up on me regularly, poking her head in the room to make sure I was behaving. My butt was still sore from the spanking, so I dutifully behaved myself. I was flipped over, the backside handled the same way.

It felt so different, my skin seemed more sensitive, any air movement felt and reacted to. When the tech rubbed in some cream to moisturize my skin I about lost it. It was all I could do to not explode, my male organ hard as a rock and very obvious. Of course, sis took that moment to appear, a huge smirk appeared on her face as she grabbed a towel and took care of the eruption. I was red in the face as junior quickly deflated, the embarrassment of my sister jerking me off probably affecting me for life.

Nobody else seemed to care, another tech coming in to start working on my nails. I had always dreamed of having long polished nails, now that was happening. I felt my feet being worked on, I guess I will have polish down there too. My nails were filed into ovals, extensions were added and then treated under a UV light. The polish was next, a base coat, two coats of polish and then a clear topcoat that sealed all of that in. Each layer treated with a UV light. Regular polish remover would not work, a special acetone was needed, and the polish had to be soaked off.

They were indeed gorgeous, but also very obvious. I thought of my luncheon date with my boss, fearing that I would soon be unemployed. I can’t see her agreeing to allow me to dress as a female just because I wanted to. I did alright in my job, but was far from a whiz at what I did. I guess that is all a mute subject now, since my hair is already super feminine, I have long elegant nails and not a hair on my body except what is on top of my head.

The time was flying, so once some breast forms were glued to my chest, some basic makeup was applied and I was dressed in lingerie, a sundress and heels I was whisked away to my luncheon date. I was nervous, extremely so as I was dragged into the restaurant. Sis did not think I would follow through, so she delivered me in person. Then she had the nerve to leave me there alone to face my fears and my boss.

I got a hug from Natalie, a surprise big time. I managed to find my chair and sat down. We ordered my voice cracking often as I tried to keep my voice sounding feminine. Finally my voice sounded feminine, and I was able to answer her questions. She was polite, but I sensed she was not going to allow me to work in my old job dressed as a female. Our food appeared and we stopped to enjoy our meal. I was so nervous, I only ate part of my meal, fearing if I ate any more it would not stay down.

Our empty plates were removed, and she cleared her throat. “I am afraid we cannot use you in your old position, it just would not work out. There might be another position available, but several concessions would have to be made before I could offer that to you. Are you interested?”

I nodded my head in the affirmative, tears quickly appearing at the corners of my eyes. I am going to be unemployed and probably homeless soon thereafter. Why couldn’t I be normal like everyone else?

You need to present as a female to get this job that means all the time I want to see your cute butt in a dress or short skirt. Makeup a necessity and of course your hair styled appropriate for a female. The position is our loan closer, wrapping up the details for any purchase and handling all of the documents to close the deal. A weekly salary since I am sure you will need a steady income to afford clothes, jewelry and your salon appointments to maintain your looks. If that is alright you start as soon as I get you back to the office. I nodded my head, anything more complicated than that way beyond my ability at the moment. We visited the ladies room, fixed our makeup and I was escorted to her car.

I felt like someone who had been sucked into a tornado, no choice but to go where the storm carried me. Back at the office I was shown to my desk and the office manager showed me the procedures for closing a deal or purchase. I managed a little time to straighten my desk some, then was introduced to my first customers. They had just bought their dream house, both of them excited beyond belief. I walked then through the documents, had them sign their life away and handed them copies of their agreements. I was thanked for my time, the gal hugging me close and whispering thank you over and over.

As I sat back down at my desk Natalie was looking at me from across the room and smiling. She returned to her office and I filed our copies of the papers away, leaving a stack to be recorded and another stack for the loan company. The couple had already been pre-approved for the loan so no concern there. At closing time Natalie appeared before me, asking me if I liked the job. I jumped up and went to hug her, thanking her for allowing me to work as my female self. She was giggling as she returned to her office, well then I will see you in the morning then, wear something cute.

That was three years ago, I am now her office manager, overseeing this branch of her realty business. I make good money, have a huge wardrobe, as befitting a successful business woman. Weekly appointments with Sis to keep my hair looking gorgeous, the length now down to my waist, the other gals in the office quite jealous of its length and beauty. I have upgraded my female secondary characteristics, my breasts now all me and my lower anatomy quite female looking, junior now hid away for the foreseeable future.

I feel privileged now living the life I always dreamed of, am extremely happy and content. All due to my coming out to Sis. Fate maybe, but whatever the reason I am so happy it chose me that day.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

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