Teresa; Female With Some Help
I have been a
member of the community theater for six months now. This last year,
it has grown considerably, starting off with no place to perform
besides the local high school gym, now to the newly renovated movie
theater with seating for seven hundred people. Most of this is due to
our leader in this pursuit of building a place where all can
contribute to something worthwhile and entertaining.
The simple truth
is that most people in community theater want acknowledgment for
their time and effort. If you have ever done anything on a stage, you
know the feeling that you get when an audience claps their approval
for your effort, a most rewarding feeling.
Janice Carmichael
founded the theater group three years ago, scraping some business
support together to allow their first production. It was a start, not
widely received bit still it was there. It got a little press
coverage, and they went from there. The few shows they managed were
good, but obviously not very professional. Janice persevered doing
the best she could with what talent she had to work with. The second
year was a little better, but they managed only three shows. Not
enough people or help to do much more.
This year she
advertised for volunteers to make the theater group more complete,
trying to get some more experience in some of the positions. She had
put together a little more funding, several businesses wanting to
help since the theater was now talked about among the community. She
had a group of amateur actors to draw from; they seemed to volunteer
first, it is the backstage people that seldom raised their hand.
My name is Terry
Sutherland, recently divorced and feeling very isolated and
depressed. My profession is engineering, but about as far from what
most people think an engineer does as possible. Now consider the
clothing industry and try to put the two fields together. I am an
engineer that learned the clothing industry from my mother when just
a young child. I take the basic design, make patterns and then adapt
that to the manufacturing process.
Most of my fellow
engineers would laugh at me referring to myself as an engineer. But
in a sense, I do engineer the garment. We use ladies to do the sewing
for us, their skill at using the industrial machines truly
remarkable. The proper utilization of their skills is where the
engineer in me comes to the fore.
Who sewed what
piece and in what order is it put together to minimize any expense in
the production of the garment. Now add in my love of computers and
what they can do for us, and you get a glimpse of what I do. Most of
my work I have adapted to a computer so that the guess work and
problems of manufacturing ladies clothes are minimal. To keep cost on
these garments reasonable, the cutting of the pattern from the fabric
and minimizing any waste is quite essential to stay competitive. My
computer and programming do this with very little wasted material.
I had seen the ad
and showed up at the auditions, needing something to help keep my
mind off my recent divorce. I am twenty-eight years old, a father of
two little girls, and head engineer in the local manufacturing
facility. I should point out that the head engineer is also the only
engineer since the company is small. The plant has been here for
years manufacturing ladies garments for several national chains. The
competition in China had almost put us out of business, but we had
managed to fine tune our clothing choices to items that were more
difficult to make, giving us a slight edge.
In the process,
we had to cut our margin of profit quite a bit to be able to compete,
but in the end, we managed to keep most of our customers. We heavily
relied on the advantage we had in not having to pay shipping from
China to get our product to our customers. Incidentally, the
mastermind of our business plan is the same Janice Carmichael that is
the head of the theater group. Janice is the CEO of Silks, Satins, N
Lace, a middle-sized manufacturer of a wide array of women’s
underwear and dresses. The company specialized in the unusual, a full
line of retro lingerie and custom made corsets just part of the line
we produced.
With this product
line, the volume of our orders was down, but we shipped a wider
variety of items than before the streamlining. It was a struggle for
a while with most of the company employees not knowing whether we
would have jobs next week or not. That is when my wife decided that
the grass was greener elsewhere and decided to leave me. She found a
used car salesman that made three times what I made and went with
him. She ended up with the custody of the girls, since my job
situation was unstable, although I am sure she wished she hadn’t.
Anyway, I showed
up for the auditions, wanting to do some kind of support work for the
theater. The ones auditioning as actors were handled first, and
several were selected. Then Janice worked through the off stage
volunteers. She winked at me twice as she doled out the jobs of set
designers, lighting, and sound people. I just sat there watching the
goings on, getting a smile every so often at what people said and did
to get their feet in the door.
She finally got
done to wardrobe and costume design. There were three of us left that
had not had anything assigned to do, so she asked us to take the
responsibility on. One of the gals was an employee at the plant, an
experienced seamstress for many years. The other female was an older
woman also having some experience in sewing clothes but not as a job.
She was a little headstrong thinking she should be the boss of the
group. Bev was the employee at the plant and knew what my skills were
and told the lady that I should be put in charge. Well, that didn’t
set well with the lady, the remark that what did a male know about
sewing anything.
Janice had been
listening to all of this and told the lady that I was indeed the best
qualified to supervise the department. Well, the lady went ballistic,
screaming at the top of her lungs. “How can any male do what a
female is born to do, especially him.” Well, that got my ire up,
and I asked her if she would like to demonstrate her skill to us. Of
course, her next remark was why should I have to prove my skills, you
are the one that obviously needs to show us what you can do.
There was a
sewing machine over in the corner with some material nearby so I
asked what she would like me to do for her. She looked at the
material and tried to come up with something to embarrass me. Her
simple reply was to finish the garment. The material was apparently
for a skirt; the zipper was not put in yet, and the hem was pinned
but not sewn. I sat down at the machine and started sewing. The
zipper took about three minutes to put in, and then I moved to the
hem using a blind hem stitch to sew it. The lady quickly became
quiet, evened backed up a few steps from the group. I finished the
stitching then handed the garment to her. She looked it over closely
but was quiet as a mouse.
I walked over to
her, introduced myself to her, I am Terry Sutherland, I am the
engineer in charge of production at the plant, supervising three
hundred seamstresses and do all the take offs from the garment
designs. I pointed to the sewing machine and asked her if she would
like to show us her skills. She turned red in the face but declined.
I got a little closer to her and whispered in her ear that I would
like her help if she could stand to work for a member of the opposite
sex. Nobody else could hear what I had said to her, so there would be
no further embarrassment for her. She accepted, apologizing to me for
her outburst and hoped that I could forgive her for her attitude.
I accepted,
telling her that I am not like most males, my mother teaching me how
to sew and design clothes while I was in high school. Yes, those
lessons caused me a bunch of troubles and provided hours of
humiliation as I was teased relentlessly during my high school
education. I was even nominated for Prom Queen by the members of the
football team. Their slogan for me was he can sew his own formal.
Luckily a couple of the teachers stepped in, and I was spared the
humiliation of being elected Prom Queen. Later I was told that I had
gotten the votes to win, but the teachers picked the second best vote
getter for the honor.
Since everybody
now had a job in the theater group, they decided on a couple of plays
to start the season and then broke up the meeting. Janice asked me to
stay for a minute, wanting to talk about the costumes for the first
play. It was a takeoff about the life of Marilyn Monroe; it involved
some of her romances, also some of the behind the scenes of her movie
career. Janice wanted the costumes to be special since the play is
weak; the scenes are not that memorable, and the only redeeming
quality is the fact that it was about Marilyn. The play was picked
because everybody knows the character and remembers fondly some of
the scenes in her movies. Janice suggested that maybe a lot of our
underwear could be incorporated into some of the scenes adding a
little sexiness to the play.
I agreed and
started working on some of the designs for the dresses the next week.
I usually just stayed at work after closing, using my office to do
the designing in. In the production of several of our garments, we
acquired a lot of scraps of material in fabrics that would be perfect
for the dresses. I tried to figure out how to piece these together
into a garment without it looking like it was put together from
scrap. I found that if I pieced the pattern so that it fit the model
precisely, the scraps of material looked like they were meant to be
that way.
It would require
extra sewing time but with volunteers to do the sewing that wouldn’t
be a concern. I used a dress dummy and set up the measurements
accordingly. I used my measurements, figuring on a corset and padded
breasts. Most of the young ladies that had volunteered to be
actresses’ were less than endowed. It took me quite a bit of time
to carefully cut out the pattern, then use the pattern to cut the
material needed for the dress. A dress like this would normally
require four to five pattern pieces, but there were thirty-five in
mine.
I sewed them up,
making a couple of changes as I went along. The material that I was
able to use for the dress was normally thirty dollars a yard and up,
so the theater group saved quite a bit, and we utilized something we
would have eventually thrown away. It turned out better than I
thought it would, so I checked to see if Janice was still in her
office. Like me she often worked late, the peace and quiet allowed us
to get a lot of things done that would not normally be accomplished
during normal working hours.
I walked into her
office and laid the dress on her desk. She finished the sentence she
was working on, then picked up the dress. She obviously liked it,
taking her time to look over every detail. She asked how long it took
to sew; I told her a little over an hour from start to finish. She
asked if the material was our scrap, I nodded yes, then she surprised
me by asking when I could get the dress into production. I quickly
set down in the chair in front of her desk.
Then I told her
this is for the play; she nodded that was what she figured, but this
is so cute, it would make a great addition to our line. I told her it
would not work; the measurements have to be precise to make it fit
perfectly. Otherwise, we could not take advantage of the scrap
pieces, so we could only do it for a custom order. She smiled, okay
you have convinced me for custom orders only. What would we sell it
for? I did a little figuring in my head and told her the cost would
be about forty-two dollars each. That was discounting the fabric some
from its thirty dollar regular price, it was scrap so not worth as
much.
The only problem
I saw with it would be a female’s fluctuating waistline. Through
the month, a female’s waist goes through a cycle usually two to
three inches variation depending on her period, her level of
exercise, and what she eats. This dress is very unforgiving; it fits
perfectly to a quarter of an inch. Janice smiled that is perfect; we
just sell them a corset with every dress.
She walked back
with me to my office, and I slipped the dress on the mannequin. I had
put a zipper in the back, but after what I saw a row of fancy buttons
would be more appropriate and help make the dress look fancier. She
asked if I could have the computer cut the pattern pieces if a set of
precise measurements were furnished. I told her it would be no
problem. She snapped a couple of pictures of the dress to send to a
customer or two. Then asked me to switch the zipper to the buttons
tomorrow.
She asked me to
use Bev for most of the work for the theater group, she will make
allowances in my budget for her time. I asked her about Doris, our
other volunteer, Janice giggled then said that decision is strictly
up to you. If you can find something for her to help with, fine, if
not use her for care and maintenance of the costumes.
The next morning
I had Bev replace the zipper with a string of buttons when she
returned the dress I asked her how she liked it. She loved it but
wondered why we were working on something so labor intensive. I told
her it was originally for the theater group, but Janice wanted it for
production, custom orders only. I informed her that I would have her
doing most of the sewing for the theater group, some of it here at
work, and she was being taken off my budget so that the company would
be picking up the expense. She was thrilled but told me not to worry
she would still be available off the clock for any work I might want
to be done.
I thanked her for
the offer, then asked her what she thought of Doris. It turns out
that she had talked to her quite a bit after the meeting, finding out
that she loves to embroidery. That solved my problem for what to do
with her. A custom embroidery on any costume will make it look fancy,
another idea to make Janice happy with the costumes. I still had
quite a bit of work to do for the first production. I figured about
ten different dresses for the first production for Marilyn, and then
several others for other cast members. Then there was the underwear
for several of the scenes. I decided to use some scrap again, making
the underwear fit perfectly. In the case of a corset, it would fit
very tightly, then when the laces are cinched up the figure would be
almost perfect.
During this time
women mainly wore dresses, pants had not made their intrusion into a
female’s wardrobe yet. The dresses ran the gamut from plain
shirtwaist to skin tight with pencil skirts. I thought the best way
to keep the audience involved would be to vary the styles, that way
any female theatergoer might recognize what she wore during that time
from the many different styles we were using.
It took me a week
to make the custom patterns for the ten different styles of dresses I
chose to use. One problem would be that there would be no way to
change an actress once we measured her and made the dress fit her and
her alone. Later in the week I got with Janice to talk about that
problem, she told me that from what she saw the cast was set, and
there should be no changes in the females playing the different
roles. She did, however, suggest that one extra outfit is made in
each costume for a fill in replacement if necessary. I asked her who
that female would be; she responded that she didn’t have any idea
now, but she would figure it out and give the measurements to Bev.
For the men’s
costumes, we decided to use the thrift stores, where we could get a
retro-looking suit for a minimal amount of money. Bev took that task
on one weekend and found what we needed for less than a hundred
dollars. After all the initial hard work, our part was pretty much
done, so I attended the rehearsals, watched as the actresses learned
their lines and marveled at Janice’s stage direction. Although
there were fifteen different people involved on the stage, she easily
handled the direction of getting them in the right spots and speaking
their lines like they had been that character for their entire life.
I ended up
helping the actors with their lines; I easily had memorized the
script, and as I followed along, I was able to cue them when a
temporary absence of memory struck. We were only a few days from the
first production, the show opened on Friday night, then two shows on
Saturday and one matinee on Sunday. Then the next weekend a repeat if
sales of tickets warranted it.
The dress that
Janice wanted for special orders was doing well, we had special
orders of two to three per day, but those orders were only from four
retailers that she had allowed to see the dress. Although the dress
took much more time to produce, the price tag that Janice had
assigned the dress is making us two hundred dollars profit per item.
I had assigned two seamstresses to do only the custom orders, their
proficiency improving each day, our profit also increasing with their
skill. Janice also was able to sell a corset with each dress ordered,
making it even more lucrative.
On Wednesday,
before the show is to open, I got called into Janice’s office. She
had a worried look on her face, and I had a feeling that one of the
actresses was not going to be able to make the show. Janice confirmed
that fact as I sat down in one of her chairs. I asked her who the
stand-in was so that I could make sure the dress would fit them
correctly. She told me to let Bev handle that, for the problem is
twofold. Our lead female and another supporting female were involved
in a car accident, both are in the hospital, both are going to be
okay after at least two weeks in said establishment. I asked if she
was going to cancel the show or move it forward a couple of weeks.
Since the local
paper has run several articles about the show, ticket sales have been
brisk, they are now selling tickets for the third weekend. I have a
stand-in for the minor part, she is not that skilled but should be
able to handle the smaller part. The problem is the part of Marilyn.
She looked me
straight in the eye and told me she needs me to step into the lead
female role for the play. I was quiet for a minute; she has got to be
kidding about this. I can’t fill in for a female even if I know the
lines. For one thing, my body shape is all wrong. The dresses are
designed for another figure, can’t be worn by just anybody, besides
the fact that I am not an actor, never claimed to be and have never
even attempted to be one.
She managed to
get me down on her couch, and then set next to me. The dresses will
fit you; I had Bev make another set of costumes up that fit only you.
Of all the actors you are the only one that knows all the lines, even
if we found someone else to dress in the costumes there is no way
that they could learn all the lines in two days. I have watched you
for quite some time, your ability to handle stress, difficult
situations, and excel in your accomplishment of those tasks is your
best and strongest trait.
She told me to
say Marilyn’s opening lines in the play, right now. I swallowed but
repeated the lines perfectly, although my voice was deeper than a
normal female. She asked me to get up and set in the chair behind the
desk as if I was playing the character, Marilyn. I got up,
straightened my clothes, then sashayed around the desk, backing up to
the chair I smoothed my skirt and set down on the front part of the
chair, keeping my knees together. Janice smiled saying that she
rested her case. I put my head in my hands and shed a tear or two.
I pick up people
mannerisms so easy, in fact, my favorite past time is just to watch
people. How they move, their hand movements, their facial
expressions, what they say to their friends. It is fun, giving me a
glimpse into their lives and their personalities. Now that is be
using against me to get me to do the play. Of all the favors to ask,
to portray a female, an obviously sexy and attractive woman, me a
male to take on the character of Marilyn Monroe.
I tried to
convince her that it wouldn’t work; I have no years of experience
as a female to fall back on in my portrayal. Janice’s solution was,
then I will have to show you what femininity is all about. We have
over fifty hours before the curtain goes up on Friday night, plenty
of time to give you a crash course in femininity. Besides with the
proper female appliances attached to your body, half of the battle is
won before we even get started. She picked up her phone dialing her
secretary, when she answered she told her to make an appointment for
the works for Terry at the salon first thing tomorrow morning, The
earlier, the better, then get Bev up here with the costumes for
Teresa and the lingerie I had set aside in the warehouse. I sighed
when I heard Teresa, a female name already assigned to me, I have a
feeling this has been planned for quite some time.
I guess the
planetary alignment for me that day was lousy, no make that horrible.
Bev came walking into the office five minutes later, pulling a
clothes rack behind her. On the top shelf of the rack was several
boxes with the underwear we manufacture in them. I should, at least,
give credit to Janice for having a backup plan in place, but why me.
I was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, and going to suffer
the worst long drawn out punishment ever devised by mankind. I was
going to impersonate a female, not just any female, but a sex
bombshell for the next few weeks, me a male who has never done
anything bad to anybody.
Bev helped me get
undressed, giggling her heart out. Her boss is going to be a female
in a lot of ways very shortly; things couldn’t get much better than
this. I gave her a stern look, but she just giggled that much more.
The underwear was handed to me, and then they both asked if I needed
assistance in putting it on. I declined, finally managing the panties
and bra. For the show, I would be wearing an under bust corset, but
since I presently had no breasts, a bra with forms would do the
trick.
Then Bev attacked
me with a waist training corset and soon was tugging on the laces
with a vengeance. Maybe I should have been nicer to Bev; she is
having a lot of fun at my expense. Thirty minutes later she had
managed to get the corset closed, only having to put her knee on my
back three times to get that little extra tightness. Of course, the
panties deemed necessary for this type of dress had been slid up my
legs earlier after my male underwear had been disposed of.
The dress is
next, the one used for a boudoir scene. The best way to describe it
was sex personified. If I had any kind of a bust, it would have been
spilling out of the low cut neckline. The skirt flared out but swung
freely around my legs as I tried to walk to the mirror to see my
image. The sensations of the hem of the dress on my legs is most
disturbing, but there was not much I could do about it. It is like
everything was suddenly not in my control any longer, I had lost
direction in my life.
Making the dress
this way it fit me to a tee, not a quarter inch slack as it molded
itself to my bodice. Janice opened her closet door, with a mirror on
the back and asked me to describe the image that I saw. I was
shocked, my male head withstanding I looked like a female, although
my lack of breasts did spoil the illusion some. I dropped my head in
defeat, telling Janice that I would give it a try, but if I fall
flat, it is her responsibility.
Bev retrieved a
box of shoes from the top of the rack and after pulling some knee
highs up my legs slipped my feet into the heels. They were a basic
pump with four-inch heels, with a decorative bow on the front. Then
as Janice was admiring my shoes, she slipped a strap around the shoe,
and my ankle and I heard a click. I tried to see what she had done,
but the dress was hindering my sight. I felt the strap around my
other ankle and another click.
I looked at
Janice, but she just smiled, that will ensure that you get the needed
practice in the heels before the curtain goes up. By the way, your
corset also has a lock on it, in fact, we are adding them to custom
orders for only a ten dollar surcharge. God, what a mess that I had
gotten myself into, okay I wasn’t the only one that helped me get
here, but obviously I was the one to have to suffer through it.
I had agreed to
try to get through this, but the more I thought about it, the more I
doubted the ability to pull it off. Janice kind of sensed me wavering
on the decision and told me that I would be staying with her until
the play ran its course. My mouth was open; my boss wanted me to move
in with her until the play is wrapped up. I knew the end of the world
would shortly follow. Janice is business orientated most of the time,
only relaxing or letting her guard down after things are completed.
For her to make that kind of offer is very unusual.
Janice is also
divorced, her male lover caught cheating on her shortly after they
married, and it was a messy divorce, her unfaithful lover trying to
get his hands on some of her family’s wealth. He was at fault but
tried to get some hush money to keep the divorce out of the papers
and media. He seriously underestimated Janice; she announced it to
all of their friends and families, making him look like the ass he
was. Last she heard he was living in Australia, after giving her an
uncontested divorce. He had bluffed, lost, and he paid the price
tenfold.
I looked around
the office looking for my clothes, but somehow they seemed to be
missing. I looked at Bev, but the cat that ate the canary look
answered my question. Bev handed me a suitcase, with clothes to wear
for the next few weeks and told me she would see Teresa at work
tomorrow. I had presumed that I would be in female mode until the
play is completed but thought that I could still wear some of my male
clothes from time to time. Apparently that was not to happen, anytime
soon.
Then the mind
processed Bev’s statement; they were planning to have me work as a
female until the play was over. Now all of my employee’s would see
the new me, I almost broke down in tears, the only thing saving that
from happening was that I didn’t really know how to. Even after my
divorce, when I lost custody of my two girls, I just couldn’t
release all of my frustration and fears. Instead, I sucked it up,
trying to overcompensate at work to fill the void.
Janice led me to
her car with me carrying my small suitcase with me. I was numb, not
knowing what to think or do, so I surrendered to her and just
followed along, my heels making a clicking noise on the sidewalk. Her
house is not far from work, with us arriving after a ten-minute
drive. She pulled into her garage and got me out of the car. I am led
upstairs to one of her guest rooms, with her taking my suitcase and
laying it on the bed. She opened it and found a nightie, a
toothbrush, and told me to head to the bathroom after she had
unzipped the dress I was wearing.
I foolishly asked
about the corset but am told that it stayed on until my waist
achieved the right proportions. Once you have boobs the proper longer
corset will be added to your figure. I managed the bathroom without
much difficulty, but the image in the mirror is constantly mocking
me. A very short time ago, I was a normal male, at least, I thought I
was, but the image I saw in any mirror is that of a young female. The
head spoiled the look, but I presumed they had something in mind to
correct that fault too.
While I was in
the bathroom, Janice had retrieved two cups of tea, offering me one
as we set on the love seat next to the bedroom window. We sat in
silence for several minutes, sipping the tea, and then I yawned. That
was Janice’s clue to leave, so she set her cup down, took me in her
arms, gave me a passionate kiss on the lips with tongue, and then
told me to have sweet dreams. I climbed into bed, with the effects of
the kiss still holding in my mind.
Where had that
come from, Janice has never showed any interest in me other than a
business relationship, at least if she had, I had totally missed the
boat. I guess it would have been possible to miss some of the clues
along the way, but I doubted it. With my keen interest in people and
their actions, I surely would have noticed something romantic lurking
in the wings.
All of the day’s
activities soon caught up with me, that yawn earlier a precursor to
many more followed by sleep soon after that. If I had dreams, I
didn’t remember any of them, but the sleep is not as restful as
most nights. I laid in bed the next morning for quite a while trying
to make some sense of the recent events in my life. No conclusions
were forthcoming.
Janice woke me up
at seven A.M. telling me that I had to get in the shower, then
dressed. My appointment is at nine, and you can’t show up at the
salon in sweats or t-shirt and pants. I couldn’t see why not, but
she is pushing me toward the bathroom slipping my nightie off as we
made our way there. Inside the bathroom, she released the corset, and
I visibly shook. The straps on my shoes were released too, a few
moments respite felt good. That was until I tried to walk without the
heels, pain radiated up from my calves, nothing major but a dull
ache. I stood on my toes and the pain subsided some. This after only
a day in the heels. After the shower it was back in the heels,
although she did leave off the straps. I guess I could be trusted
some now. I could now walk without some of the pain, my feet getting
used to the extreme heel height too easily. It was weird sleeping in
heels last night. Janice had suggested a pillow case to keep them
from damaging the sheets. So with two pillow cases encasing my feet
in heels I had finally made it under the sheets.
It felt so good
to have the corset off for a while, but the feelings as it is being
released seemed to mean something else. I had got used to the corset
in that short amount of time, and as she released it, goose pimples
popped up all over my body. Somehow taking it off seemed to symbolize
the loss of something important to my image.
The shower is
wonderful, but all too short. Janice is at the door, handing me a
shift dress with a pair of panties. As I am slipping the panties up
my legs, I notice the extra seams in the garment. Bev is more
talented than I gave her credit for, she altered one of my patterns
to make me a pair of panties using scrap. I look at Janice; there
have to be more clothes for me than this. She smiles, the salon will
handle you today, the less you wear the faster they can get your sex
changed. That doesn’t sound good for me; I didn’t agree to a sex
change or did I.
I am led from the
house to her car, mumbling about anything and everything. Janice
looks at me, typical female bitching about everything. The drive
seemed forever, but that was probably because I was dreading what
would happen. When she pulled up in front of the salon I swallowed
hard. This place is huge, already packed with customers and so
feminine. From the color of the walls to the myriad different décor
items spread throughout the salon it dripped femininity. Janice had
got out and came to the passenger side of the car, then she opened
the door and extracted me from my seat. I tried to pull back, but she
was on a mission, a mission she was going to succeed at.
I was dragged
inside and Janice informed the receptionist that Teresa is here for
her nine o’clock appointment. The receptionist called someone and
soon I was being led away to my demise, at least, that is what it
felt like. Janice did peck my cheek as I was being led away, my only
thought is she is leaving me here all alone to try and cope with
this. Soon I was led into a room and my dress and panties were
removed. I tried to keep my panties on, but Heather the tech hugged
me whispering that it would be alright. As she released the hug my
panties fell to the floor. I was helped up onto a table and soon my
front side is covered in a white cream. That included my male
appendage, who wisely stayed flaccid trying to become invisible.
Thirty minutes
later the cream was wiped off leaving soft bare hair free skin.
During the treatment Heather engaged me in conversation, she was
particularly interested in my part in the play. By the time my front
side was finished we were friends, giggling at most anything like two
silly school girls. My back side was next, finished the same way with
identical results. This time during the treatment Heather worked on
my nails, now I sported ten longish nails, the extra length due to
some extensions she had glued on to my existing fingernails.
Next was my hair,
washed and conditioned then set with curlers. I had kept my hair long
and in a ponytail most of the time, that just made her job so much
easier. With curls I am sure most of my masculine looking head would
disappear. I did not have a strong chin and my eyebrows were never
thick and grown together like some males had. My other features were
modest, in the masculine range but not overtly so. The one
disparaging feature was my nose, the only description that fit was
cute. During my life I was reminded about it often, sometimes as an
insult if delivered from a male but often as a compliment, the female
wishing she had one as cute.
Heather told me
they would cut in a style once I had picked out one suitable for the
play. The current hairstyle was so that I would get accustomed to a
feminine look, helping me get into the role of a sexy female. After
the curlers were slathered in hairspray I was moved to a funny
looking chair, helped to sit in it properly and then it was leaned
back. As the chair leaned back my legs were spread quite wide, I
thought I knew what was coming next. To my surprise she left me
splayed like that and concentrated on my chest.
Clear cups were
glued to my chest right above my nipples. They were plastic and quite
good sized. A hose was hooked up to each and a pump turned on pulling
some of my extraneous flesh into the cups. Like most males I had
become a little flabby especially in regards to my torso. Exercise
was so not my thing.
Then Heather
moved to my lower extremity. A cool spray and I could feel nothing.
It took her about forty minutes to readjust things, then glued my
male appendage back between my legs, covering it with a too realistic
looking vulva. I know most people refer to it as a vagina, but you
have to remember I was trained as an engineer, detail and accuracy
means a lot. I did let out several audible sighs, not that it did me
any good. Meanwhile the pump was continuing in its quest to give me a
sizable rack for my chest. Again another male thing, even in high
school most males referred to a female’s breasts as a rack or
boobies.
I did get a
chance a look at my new appliance down below, I raised my head and
dropped it immediately, the image now definitely that of a female’s
sex. The slit with two puffy lips surrounding it would be welcome on
a female, but not necessarily on me. I quickly wondered why junior
had to be hid away just for a part in the play, but thinking when my
mind is being assaulted by all kinds of new feelings and sensations
it is not recommended. I had the start of a headache coming on,
probably not the only one I will get today. I closed my eyes and
concentrated on my work, even though I was not there it could help
keep my thoughts on friendlier topics, ones that I could deal with.
With me still
splayed uncomfortably Heather started putting polish on my new
lengthened nails, a bright red although I would have much preferred a
subtler shade of pink. I guess part of getting used to being a female
means learning to be seen and appreciated. At first I thought my
appearance would be comical, far from what a normal female should
look like. But as my breasts developed and one look at my groin I now
had serious doubts that I would turn out anything but pretty. I could
picture myself in a corset, a slender waist finishing the look that
my body needed to appear as an attractive female.
Speaking of which
Heather soon returned with a very strict looking one, way longer that
the ones we made. It was a pale ivory, with way too much lace sewn
on. I was laced into it, Heather turned out to be much stronger than
Bev, not having any trouble getting it snug. It came right up to the
cups that had been secured to my chest and covered my new vulva but
barely. If I thought I had problems last night dealing with the waist
nipper this corset made that one look like a toy for a child. I tried
several times trying to get a full breath into my lungs, a feat I
soon learned would be impossible. Only short breaths worked, if I
ever had to exert myself any, I am sure I would keel over from a lack
of oxygen. I wondered about the clothes back at the plant, they might
not fit me properly if I have lost more inches in my waist. This
corset seemed to make me a lot smaller in the waist, while forcing
any extra tissue either to my breasts or hips.
My hair was
washed and conditioned, in fact several times Heather making the
remark that I obviously knew nothing about taking care of my hair.
Hey I washed it once every ten days whether it needed it or not. The
stuff from the dollar store worked pretty good in my opinion. Then
she cut it into a feminine style even wet it looked very feminine.
Then came the curlers, lots of them with a healthy dose of setting
gel used before my hair was wrapped around them. Looking in the
mirror I presented quite a sight. A somewhat masculine looking face
on top of a very feminine figure with my hair in a multitude of
brightly colored curlers. What a sight.
Once my eyebrows
were eliminated, my face lost most of its masculinity. Then when she
penciled in the higher arch, Teresa was here to stay. Heather set me
under a dryer, so my hair can be dried, the warm almost hot air
making me a little uncomfortable. I giggled a little, breasts being
sucked from my chest and I am complaining about the hot air from the
dryer.
Once dry she
removed the curlers, and lightly brushed my hair. The image in front
of me now definitely a female, the long curly strands laying on my
shoulders while the ones on top of my head were amassed framing my
face. I received some basic makeup, mascara, some rouge on my cheeks
and a right pink lipstick. I was quite a sight, standing there
dressed to go out in a corset and panties.
Oh there were
still the cups on my chest, now almost full to capacity. Heather
turned off the pump, detached the hoses letting my new breasts settle
into the cups of the corset. I reached one hand to touch them, the
warmness and the mobility of them surprising me. She had told me the
cups stay on, eventually dissolving, but what I was touching felt
just like a real breast. Yes, I have felt a real breast or two during
my life, these babies felt just like the ones I had fondled before.
I heard a squeal
and turned to see who had made the noise. There stood Bev with a
garment bag over her shoulder and her one hand over her mouth. She
laid the bag over a chair and launched herself in my direction. I was
hugged, groped, pinched and generally woman handled. I did get a
kiss, as she whispered in my ear that Janice is going to go ballistic
when she sees you. I doubt you will be standing when she finishes
with you. My mouth was open, Janice seemed to have a thing for me,
and it was pretty well known by all around me. I, however, was
totally clueless in the matter.
Once my new look
was absorbed she went to get the garment bag and unzipped it. Then
pulled out another dress, she had made for me, I could see the many
different parts used to assemble the dress. She held the dress open
for me as I stepped into it, then she buttoned up the buttons at the
back of the dress. I felt trapped now, I doubted I could reach half
of them, now dependent on someone to help me undress. I thought of
Janice helping me out of the dress and blushed a crimson red. I
looked at the image in the mirror, the dress hugged every curve of my
body like it had been painted on me. I can see that Bev has been very
busy, probably giggling the whole time, making dresses for her
formerly male boss. I said former male, I really doubted that all of
this could just be taken off and I would instantly return to my male
body, the breasts lying in the cups of the corset a prime example.
Incidentally, the dress had a plunging neckline leaving at least half
of my breast showing above the bodice top. My nipples barely covered,
and trying to poke themselves out of their confines.
It was hard to
get used to my breast just lying in the cup of the corset. Nothing
keeping them there but gravity. Any leaning over or exaggerated
motion most likely causing them to escape their confines. I presume a
female gets used to this somewhat, but a new female with no previous
experience not so much. So I walked and moved with care, not sure how
I would react when one of my tits plopped out of my dress. I was
gathered up, Bev signing for my services and taken to her car. She
had been instructed to gather me up and take me directly to Janice,
no stops, no dilly dallying but straight to Janice.
On the ride back
I tried to talk to Bev about Janice. Even talking took a lot of
effort, the corset making all things including breathing lots more
difficult. I finally got out the words, Bev just smiling. Everybody
in the plant knows about Janice’s infatuation with you. You may be
smart, but what is right in front of you seems to evade your senses.
Ever since she hired you a couple of years ago, she has had the hots
for you, but you just cruised along impervious to everything
happening around you. When the accident happened she instantly became
engrossed in this mission. Taking away your masculinity, and into her
bed she is going to make you over into her perfect lover. I suggest
you go along, no matter how you feel, Janice on a mission never
fails.
We parked at her
townhouse and Bev got me to the door, rang the doorbell and turned
and left. I just stood there not knowing what to expect. The door
opened, she gave me a thorough look, not missing much, her eyes
covering every inch of my feminized figure. She ran her tongue over
her lips, in anticipation, then reached out and grabbed my hand
yanking me inside. I was soon being kissed, a kiss like I have never
experienced before. Pure lust is maybe the best description. Gawd,
how could I have missed her feelings for me, I must have had my head
up my ass the entire time I worked alongside of her.
She had a fun
time for the next five hours as my new body was thoroughly explored.
I was just going along for the ride, and what a ride it was. She
finally gave out, I was thankful as she had me squirming, moaning,
and screaming for the entire time. My former male body could not
handle all that was happening to me, I am not complaining, but doubt
I will ever embrace the male disguise ever again.
I was accepted as
my new persona at the plant, getting hugs from the gals and polite
handshakes from the few guys we employed. By the time of the play I
was immersed in my portrayal of Marilyn, even my voice seemed to fit
the character now.
Even though I was
scared to death on opening night the play was an unqualified success
playing for six weekends. I stayed as Teresa after the play finished
six weeks of dressing and acting as a female pretty much making
returning to the life of a male not possible or desired. I never did
go back to my apartment, Janice saw to my things being done away
with, and since that first evening I had never been anywhere but in
her bed.
About six months
later my ex-wife contacted me asking if I could take the girls to
raise. Her newest conquest did not want the girls under any
conditions so she was hoping I would take them back. I reluctantly
told her of my changes, she giggled into the phone, she had me
checked out and was already aware of my new looks, the girls anxious
to see their new mommy. Janice was ecstatic when I told her, even
went with me to pick up the girls. Kay my ex was speechless when she
saw me for the first time, hugging me hard and tight. I think she now
realized what she had and let get away. A few minutes later two
squealing girls came and tackled me, not letting go when I tried to
get them to our car. I saw a tear or two in Kay’s eyes as we left,
but turned away. It was her decision and she is the one that has to
live with it.
Janice helped me
herd the girls into the back seat and she drove. The chatter from the
two was infectious, they seemed so happy now. At the house we got
them settled into their room, hanging their clothes in their closet.
Both were in school, so I will stay working then leave early so that
I can pick them up at school.
Life turned out
to be good after that, Janice and I marrying about three months
later, our girls by our sides. Bev is now handling most of my
previous job, I just check in on her if she needs help. Almost every
time I do she has a bag of clothes for me and the girls, each custom
made to our measurements.
Janice’s true
love the theater is doing well, lots of volunteers now and three
corporate sponsors to boot. I get called in from time to time to play
a small part, but nothing like the Marilyn part. If Janice has her
way she is going to do the Marilyn play again on the anniversary of
its original playing five years ago. Once she let it slip that she
was considering the idea it was all over the papers and we had
hundreds of request for tickets. When I saw Bev sewing the dresses
for the play, I knew it would happen, the smirk on her face so evil.
I had some help in the beginning, well to be truthful lots of help.
But what resulted from the help is so wonderful. I have the love of
my life and my two girls and friends all over the community. Now that
I am a female I am certain it is the right gender for me. The fact
that Janice is my soul mate, all the better.
© 2016 thru
2024 by Francesca