Clara: To Be A Flapper

Clara: To Be A Flapper

My history class was becoming quite a problem. The teacher was middle age and female; she was strict in her teachings, making us learn every facet of history or we would not pass. She loved to assign research papers on the time of history we were studying, she handled that by engaging us in debate during class about some part of what we were studying. Then, as a subject came up, she would pick a part of that, then assign it to a member of the class at random. Whenever she assigned a subject to one of us, there would be groans, loud ones. She would giggle and then sometimes add to the subject she just handed out. Believe me, no one slept or daydreamed in her class, we had to be alert to keep from being singled out more than usual.

We were talking about the early nineteen hundreds and female beauty. The original conversation was about flappers but as most of the discussions in our classroom, it quickly migrated to beauty, female actresses and hair styles. When I saw her glance my way I should have panicked, but she seemed to move on shortly thereafter. She had handed out quite a few subjects that would require papers of at least five thousand words. She did allow adequate time for us to do research for our papers, usually six to eight weeks.

When I first encountered Ms. Johnson as a teacher, I rebelled when she handed me an assignment, I told her she couldn’t make me do work that everyone else was not assigned. That was not the response she was expecting, I quickly learned as she added to my assignment. Then when I questioned where I could even get information on what she had assigned, she added another section to my report. Now three similar subjects and fifteen thousand words were due, the resulting paper to be half of my semester grade. I caught myself before I groaned out loud, fearing of what that might cause her to add to my already overloaded homework.

I did get the research paper finished and got a B on it, much to my surprise. She made numerous notes on the research paper, questioning parts of it and mentioning that more information was out there for this, but was not in my paper. I took the hint, my next assignment was only the minimum length and I researched it thoroughly earning me an A+.

Now though we were in the next semester, starting all over again. I had hoped for the other history teacher, like most of my fellow classmates. But when classes were assigned I was back with Ms. Johnson.

Today though, I was trying to keep a low profile, beauty, female fashions and flappers was not really where my interests were. I did catch her looking my way several more times during class, but my name was never called. With about five minutes of class remaining, I sighed a little, knowing that I had made it without being singled out. I didn’t hear her call my name, too busy patting myself on the back for escaping untouched. She repeated it several times, finally, I heard her and answered.

“Nice of you to join us today, see me after class for your assignment.” Apparently there had been several of us singled out, a line at her desk awaiting me. From the ones ahead of me and what they were receiving in assignments, this was not going to be good. The second one in line got four subjects added to his paper, now owing twenty thousand words to the history teacher. Each one in the line left dejected and very depressed, I moved up and discovered that I was the last one.

Well Clarence what have you to say for yourself today? My brilliant reply, Huh? She giggled at me, “You are a challenge, very smart but not really motivated. So let’s see what I might do to change that a little. First, your subjects for your research paper are flappers, Clara Bow, flapper fashions, and makeup of the twenties. You are to convince me of how they tie together and relate to the history of the period.

Now for motivation, twenty thousand words, listing ninety-five percent of available research, and tying in its importance to the history of the period and pictures as you deem necessary for the paper. You have three weeks from today to prepare it and have it on my desk. I will make an exception in your case, basing your semester grade on the results of your paper. I know your abilities and I will not hesitate to flunk you if you don’t put in the effort necessary to do this right.”

I stood there utterly in shock. I opened my mouth several times and nothing came out. I did sit in the chair opposite her and managed to ask her to reconsider. She smiled, “Okay I will offer you one option to the previous assignment. In three weeks, you walk in here to my office and present yourself in appropriate clothes, makeup and hair of Clara Bow, answer my questions of the period and their tie-in to your looks and I will give you a passing grade. Get all of your questions right, and present yourself as a proper flapper and I will award you an A+. Your choice, take it or leave it. Now, you have quite a bit to work to do, I might suggest that you get at it.”

The bell was the only thing that brought me back to my senses, well partially back. I walked right by three of my classmates, all three asking me questions on what I had been assigned. I didn’t hear a word they said, I doubt I even knew where I was going. When the bell rang for the start of the next class, I found myself in the cafeteria, not the Algebra class I should be attending. I went to the Principals office, telling them I didn’t feel good, which was true.

They gave me a note and sent me to the nurse’s office. I eventually made it there, the nurse quickly checking me out. Again, she was talking to me, asking me questions and I didn’t hear a word she said. I found myself laying on a bed in the office, when my mind finally came around some. I spoke some, because I was still kind of lost and did not realize how I even got to be in her office. I lost consciousness again for a while, then set up quickly when I realized I was not in class. Ms. Fowler sat next to me and we talked some, working in some of the questions she had into the conversation without me realizing it.

I think she has seen similar behavior in the past, since she mentioned that I had just came from History class. There was quite a smile there, she did allow me to stay for another class before she wrote my excuse and sent me back to class. I spent that time trying to figure out what happened today and how in the hell I was going to handle it. Three weeks and twenty thousand words, researched properly, that would be a monumental task for a computer, much less a student. I knew I wouldn’t question her, the last time that was tried, I got even more work assigned. Nope, I will have to do the research, then write the paper.

As I walked to class, a tear escaped my eye, my hand brushing over my eye trying to remove it from sight before anyone else saw it. I did make it through the next class, lunch to follow, as I made my way to the cafeteria. I grabbed a sandwich and went outside to the tables looking for a quiet corner to sit and think. I walked to the far corner of the courtyard, finding a table under some trees, allowing for some shade from the hot sun. As I looked around, I was one of only three out there, everybody else inside with the air conditioning. It wasn’t really that hot, the cool breeze making it somewhat bearable. I needed the quietness more than the cool temperatures today.

I let my mind run wild, trying to figure out why I got this horrible assignment, and how in the hell I was going to get a passing grade on it. The first bell rang signaling the end of lunch and I had only taken three bites out of my sandwich. I threw it in the garbage, by the time I had a chance to eat it, it would be spoiled most likely. This day was not going well, probably will rank as one of my worst in twelve years of attending school. Yes, I was now a senior, if I can somehow hold it together enough to graduate in two more months, I will be out of school for good.

My parents wanted me to go to college, but so far, the urge to spend four more years in school was not there. A stint in the service would be preferable to four more years in school. I did manage to make it through the last three classes of the day. Luckily, I was not called on or subjected to any pop quizzes.

I gathered up my books and headed towards home, the two mile walk might be just what I needed to make the day bearable. As I was covering the last block of my walk, I ran into Beth, my next door neighbor’s youngest daughter, a fellow classmate and sufferer of the same history class as I. She was getting out of her friend’s car, where I had to walk, she usually rode with one of her friends. After waving goodbye to her friends, she walked over to me and asked if I wanted a coke. I hesitated but she grabbed my hand leading me into her house.

Her Mom hugged her and then gave me a hug too. She had noticed my frown when I entered the kitchen, figuring I needed the hug as bad as her daughter Beth. Beth grabbed the cokes, then dragged me to her room. I spent a lot of time with Beth, we were friends and had been for quite some time. Each of us has supported the other through some tough spots, so the friendship was deep and pure.

After twenty minutes and numerous questions, she finally got me to tell her my assignment. When I finished she took my hand and squeezed it. Her next statement hit the problem right on the head. “What did you do to Ms. Johnson to piss her off? You will be lucky to get it done, much less good enough to get a passing grade!”

I didn’t say anything, Beth grabbed my other hand and made me face her. “Okay, what are you not telling me about this assignment? I want the truth, if I am going to help you, I need to know what is going on.”

I swallowed hard, finally telling her about the other option in lieu of the paper. She giggled several times as she looked at me closely, apparently seeing if this other option might be a possibility. She dropped my hands and went to her computer and brought up the internet. Some five minutes later, she had what she was looking for on the screen. She placed her hands on either side of my face and stared into my eyes, you are taking the second option, you are a dead ringer for Clara Bow.

“Now starting tonight, I want you researching everything you can about the period and about the lady. Print out what you find, so that I can quiz you about it. I mean everything. The quizzing starts tomorrow, your lunch period now belongs to me, you will be with me every lunch period and after school until time for your appearance. I will take care of your clothing, makeup and hair, that is gathering it all up, you are going to learn to do all the transformation yourself. Your hair is long enough, do not get it cut or I will personally see to a humiliating experience right in front of the whole school. Am I understood?” I nodded my head, speech was impossible.

Ten minutes later I was in my house, accessing the internet myself. I found way too many references to Clara Bow and the flapper era. Maybe Ms. Johnson will not have the time to find them all herself, sparing me some aggravation. Of course, I had no idea which ones she would find and quiz me about. I printed fifteen references, read them thoroughly trying to remember the material for my quiz tomorrow.

I kept coming back to Clara’s picture that was in most of the references. Some of the pictures of her were cute, a curly hairstyle framing her face, the mostly short dresses showing off her legs and the makeup quite pronounced and very feminine. I tried to picture my face in place of hers, but just couldn’t see the resemblance. Maybe Beth was just kidding me about the resemblance.

The next day at school, Beth was waiting for me, I didn’t even get to eat anything, Beth said I needed to lose a few pounds anyway. I did manage to get through the history class without further stress or assignments. The whole class was subdued some, her assignments taking their toll on everybody. Beth was one of the few lucky ones only five thousand words and two extra weeks to complete it.

As soon as we sat down outside, the first questions started in. A few minutes into the session, I knew I would have to study harder, I was missing way too many to make it through her test in three weeks. Beth didn’t say much but I could tell she was thinking of another way to make the information stick with me better. That afternoon, on the way home from school, she walked with me; I knew how much she was trying to help me, even turning down her ride so she could spend more time with me.

I was dragged into her house, handed a diet beverage and pushed into a seat at the kitchen table. Her words were short and highly punctuated. Total immersion! I was trying to figure out what that meant as Beth was talking to her Mom. Then, her Mom made a call to someone, and twenty-five minutes later my Mom entered the kitchen. Now I was scared, Mom seldom, if ever, came home early from her work, now, two hours before she normally came home, she was standing in front of me. Meanwhile, Beth’s Mom was on the phone again. This couldn’t be good.

I tried to zone out like I did in class when things were piling up and I could see no way out of them. Beth was the first to break through my façade, getting me back to the now and present time. “Starting Monday you attend school as Clara, you will live and breathe Clara until the three weeks are up. That means dressing like her, makeup like she uses and acting as much like her as possible. It is maybe a touch crazy, but if Ms. Johnson flunks you, you are looking at summer school to be able to graduate. I will watch out for you, forget about the ones making fun of you, this is way more important.”

“This is Friday, starting tonight you are Clara, wardrobe and makeup tomorrow, and all weekend you are going to practice dancing and acting like her. We have found a couple of movies featuring her so that is on the agenda tonight. Tomorrow we hit the shops to get your wardrobe and makeup and you practice the rest of the weekend doing it yourself. Now are you going to participate or do I need to spread a few rumors Monday to convince you that I am serious and will not be ignored in this.”

I nodded, but apparently that was not enough. I had to tell her that I was appreciative of the plan and would embrace it wholeheartedly. I then dropped my head and shed a lot of tears, talk about being lost as what to do this was definitely it. I know she was trying to help, maybe this will work, but dressing and acting like a twenties actress is far from mainstream. Of course, of the questions Beth had asked me earlier I had only got three right, maybe this way the material will stick with me.

The final blow came a few minutes later when Beth’s Mom got off the phone telling all that I was cleared to attend school as a female until needed. Gawd, the tears did continue, nothing so far making the situation any better, at least, in my mind.

Mom was her usual self, listening carefully to everything and nodding approval of the plan. I thought sure she would come to my rescue, but instead she thought it was an excellent way to get me to learn about this period in history. She even ended up calling the salon she uses and got me an appointment for early Saturday morning. Beth was asked to go with me for moral support, and to make sure I was sufficiently changed to meet the requirements of the assignment.

I was sure after they tried I would be deemed still too masculine and everything would be dropped, leaving me to concentrate on doing the paper somehow. Back in my own house, I was ensconced in a very frilly nightie and put to bed, Mom kissing my forehead as she pulled up my covers. That in itself was a shock to the system, first time since I was two or three that I got put to bed and kissed.

The ensuing few days were a mad rush as they shopped all the vintage thrift stores looking for appropriate clothes for me. The salon appointment changed my hair style to one that fit the roaring twenties. If that wasn’t bad enough the hairstyle was helped along with a curly permanent. Two hours of me sitting in the salon chair as each section of my hair was wrapped around small curlers after securing it between a paper produced the tight curls of Clara. The curler was tightened so much I felt any more tension would have my hair falling out of my head. Then came the smelly permanent solution and a short stint under the hair dryer, followed by it being rinsed out and a neutralizer applied to stop the curling process. That again rinsed out, then the curlers were removed. My head was covered in small curls the eight inches of original length now only five inches or less.

Another set of curlers were then put into my hair, larger than the others, but no other solution or chemical added. Another stint under the dryer and then they were removed. The sight of my curly hairdo was comical, but after she started brushing it out it turned into something so feminine. I looked like Clara now or countless other flappers I had seen pictures of in the research material I was gathering. Even at the salon I had articles in front of me trying to absorb all the info. It was somewhat easier with the new look, the hairstyle only reinforcing the look of a flapper. I started to see the connection to what the history was and my looks.

The main difference was that I was that female I was learning about, not just a subject, but the exact image of her anytime I looked in the mirror. It hit home, made it all real somehow. When I read a part of her history I could almost feel it, dancing at one of the clubs she frequented, I could picture me doing it, reveling in the applause I would get after performing for a show. I could read about a movie she was in, could almost feel the kisses, and the interaction with some of her male co-stars.

Now when I was quizzed I got most of the answers right the first time, not having to review the answer for later. Quite a change from a few days ago.

The big change was going to school as Clara. The first day I got a lot of funny looks, but as the days wore on, it got less and less. Ms. Johnson was the quietest of my group, she recognized me right away, calling me Clara from the first day. She was polite, still calling on me in class, but not exclusively. Every time I caught her looking at me in class, there was this small smile on her face, reminding me of a cat who had just finished something tasty.

I ended up going back to the salon several times, each time a little more was done to make me look more like Clara. At home I was taught that style of dancing, a friend of Mothers who had a dance studio doing the training. It came easy, once I let down my guard some, five lessons later I was doing several twenties dances with ease.

Needless to say Clara remained as a student for that semester and the one following. I did graduate, even received the diploma made out to Clara, my legal first name now. Beth never gave up on me, once I had Clara down pat she moved on to me learning the movements and nuances of a female. After we graduated a quick trip over the state line and we are now married. Junior is still there under the silicone vagina, you can never tell when he might be needed, if so he is there ready and willing.

For a career I decided on American History specializing on the early 20’s and especially Clara Bow. I teach at the same high school I attended a few years ago, Ms. Johnson now the principal here. Oh to be a flapper was my motto back then and still applies today. Beth in particular loves her flapper and I enjoy being one for her. So far no male students like me that resemble Clara, but surely there will be one along one of these days.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Nicky; A Bimbo Experience

Nicky; A Bimbo Experience

I was heading to the salon to pick up my sister, her appointments at the salon only scheduled till eight today. She is one of their stylists, working for them for six years now. Her car was acting up again, thus my ferrying her to work and picking her up at closing. When I pulled into the parking lot the place was jammed. I found a spot near the back of the parking lot and made my way into the salon.

Recently the Turnabout Gurl Salon has experienced considerable growth, their basic reason for opening now flourishing once again. Sis had commented about her customers, now over seventy percent of them males. When the salon first opened it was that way, then the females in the area found out what they could accomplish and became the majority of their customers. Now the balance seems to have shifted back to the male customer. Word of mouth had spread from the previous male customers, now more males wanting to experience the salon. The salons popularity causing them to add additions to the salon twice since they opened.

With the parking lot this full, they apparently have a lot of walk-ins, hence my need to go in and wait while Donna finishes her customers. I enjoy watching the goings on in the salon, trying to discern the male customers from the female ones. It was over an hour later when she had finished her last customer, a female I presume who looked quite over done. Her makeup was bold, heavy and quite noticeable. Her hair was also over the top, feminine but exaggerated to the max. Then we have her clothes, just short of slutty, form fitting and leaving a lot of skin exposed. I watched the customer look at her image in the mirror after sis finished, pleased at the reflected image apparently. The services were performed well, just over done. I shook my head at her image, definitely not anything that could be considered mainstream.

After sis joined me I asked her about her last customer. She chuckled, then said she had been getting quite a few like her recently. Her and one other stylist seemed to be sought out by this particular group of customers, the word of mouth spreading quickly. She doesn’t mind doing their hair, nails and makeup. They usually tip well and are a hoot to listen to, their high pitched voices and their valley girl accents make them appear rather simple, in other words they act like a bimbo. If they are called that they swell up in pride, a status symbol for them.

Sis asked me if I was aware that her last customer was male underneath all of the makeup, clothes and hair? I shook my head in disbelief, wondering why a male wanted to look like a bimbo or street walker, my take on how they looked.

We walked out to my car and headed home. We shared a house, well more likely considered a small cottage, with lots of amenities. It was on the edge of town, not near any shopping or entertainment. No public transportation so it was hard to keep rented. For us it was perfect, close enough to the salon for sis and easily accessible to major highways. I was still in school, one more semester till I could get my bachelors degree. The university was more than a few miles away, but easily reached with the roads available in a reasonable time.

The ride home was in silence, sis usually tired after being on her feet for eight to ten hours. I parked next to the cottage and we entered our abode. I headed to the kitchen, having already prepared our dinner. All I had to do was warm the food in the oven for a few minutes and serve. Sis had changed her clothes, now wearing a pair of jeans and a loose top. I preferred her uniform that she wore at work, a young male’s fantasy come true. I got a hug, sis really appreciating the effort I make for her. She was hungry, so there was very little conversation tonight. She did ask about my classes as I cleaned up, and put the left over food in the refrigerator.

I mentioned about one of the professors being sick, now in the hospital. The class had been suspended till he could return. Now there was talk about him not returning, the class being canceled, no credit given. They had tried to get a replacement but no one with enough qualifications was found to take his place. It would mean that I could not graduate this semester, since I would still be three credit hours short for my degree. Then to have to take one class next semester such a waste of time and resources.

With Donna yawning I turned out the lights and we headed to our bedroom. We slept in the master bedroom, two twin beds one on either side of the room. She finished in the bathroom first, by the time I was through she was sound asleep. I kissed her cheek, just something we did to each other every chance we got, then crawled into my own bed. The kiss was usually accompanied with a hug, but Donna was already making noises. I can’t call them snoring but they do sound like that. When I accuse her of snoring she denies it, with a vengeance, accusing me of making it up.

The next morning she was up before me, fixed breakfast and had the coffee pot going full blast. She pounced on my bed to wake me. Grabbing my covers and dragging them off. I got the hint, did my bathroom things and headed to the kitchen. I was served some food, then a huge cup of coffee. I disposed of both, then she wanted to know if I had anything planned for today. I shook my head no, the one class that got canceled my only class for the day. She wanted me to come into the salon with her, She had some gaps in her appointments, with me there she can play with my hair, maybe even give me a makeover. I headed to the bedroom, shaking my head and yelling never.

Well like most females what I had in mind and what I ended up doing are two different worlds. She ended up dressing me, although I had told her just to take my car since I would not need it today. Nope not what she had in mind.

So a half hour later I was dragged into the salon and taken to one of the treatment rooms. Her first appointment was already here so she kissed me and pushed me down in a chair. Giggling she told me to stay, then rubbing the top of my head telling me that I was a good pussy. As you can tell she is a cat lover, several of the local felines making our cottage their home. After a taste of what we offered the next time they came they brought their suitcases and moved in.

In and out all day as she worked on me in between her appointments. I got my hair washed and conditioned, the split ends removed and then set in curlers. She had started the curlers when I was dozing off, by the time I became aware of what she was doing she had just about finished getting them all in. I sighed but did not say anything. I did give her a dirty look, but of course like a typical female it was totally ignored.

Later in the day I got some makeup applied, my ears pierced again and my eyebrows arched significantly. The mirrors in the room were on the other side of the room so being lazy I never ventured over to look at my new image. It was approaching quitting time as she removed my curlers. She was humming as she styled my hair, using way too much hairspray to preserve the look. Apparently satisfied with her work she refreshed my lipstick then helped me to stand up. She removed my shirt, dropped my pants to the floor and then yanked my shorts down to my ankles. I should have stopped her at this point, but it all seemed so surreal. I was handed a pair of panties which I promptly pulled up, not wanting to stay naked any longer than necessary no matter what I was given to wear.

The way too short dress that she had in her hands was next, I tried to escape, looking for my male clothes that she had just removed. Somehow they mysteriously vanished, every where I looked not a sign of them to be seen. I tried to keep the dress from being put on my body, but my hands ended up being in the wrong place to prevent that. With the dress on sis dragged me to a mirror, the image in the mirror an exact duplicate of the bimbo look that she was doing for a lot of her customers.

I was about to start crying, tears already leaking from the corners of my eyes. She pulled me closer and hugged me tightly, kissing my ear and eyes to get me to stop with the tears. I ended up giggling, as her actions seemed to always cheer me up. Besides the damage had already been done, a return to my former look not in the immediate future.

She turned me back to the mirror, making me look at my image more closely. For some reason I reverted to a higher voice, slurring my words and returning her kisses with a vengeance. Now we were both giggling as she dragged me from the salon.

At the door of the salon I hesitated, the dress I was wearing not covering much. Definitely not something I had worn before out in public. Too late, now almost to my car my head swiveling to see if I was being stared at. I was getting plenty of looks but no outright stares or gawking. Sis drove us home, I am sure I was in no shape to operate any machinery much less to remember how to get home in the first place. The heels she had me wear also not conducive to driving a car, much less to walking. I was almost to the car before I managed a walk and not teeter along.

I was pushed into the kitchen and told to warm the leftovers from last night. She did watch for a few minutes to see that I actually found the leftovers, what there was of them, and got them to the microwave. She then trotted off to our bedroom, appearing several minutes later with a huge smile on her face. I did eat a few bites, but was still more concerned with my new radical image. I could see my reflection in some of the kitchen appliances, my eyes focusing on those images.

It was after we had consumed the leftovers that I managed to ask her why the outlandish bimbo look. She just smiled, a devilish grin spreading across her face. “My little sister needs to experience more of what is happening all around her, time spent as a bimbo will broaden her outlook on life. When we talked earlier about my customer your face showed disapproval of their look and behavior. Now you can live the life for awhile, maybe opening your eyes and mind to something new and different.”

Besides I used some semi-permanent makeup on your face and a liquid permanent on your hair, the look you now possess will be with you for several weeks. I started to complain about what she had done, but before my mouth engaged I realized what she has already done will not be easy to reverse. I don’t think school will be any problem, the looks of fellow students covering most any lifestyle or look, but to show up looking like a bimbo might take more nerve that I can summon up.

Now if I can somehow get my mind to accept my radical new look. That thought was being processed as I was staring it my image in the mirror once again. A big sigh escaped my face, easier said than done. I did make my way to our bedroom discovering what sis was smiling about when she returned from changing her clothes. All my masculine clothes were now missing, hopefully just for awhile. Knowing sis I feared they were gone for good, typical of her thought processes once she gets a crazy idea in her head. I found a nightie laying on my bed, so out of the dress, once I figured how to get out of it, and slipped the satin nightie on, Of course, a fresh pair of panties accompanied the nightie and I laid down on my bed, a restful sleep like presence slowly taking over.

The next morning nothing had changed, sis waking me up and making me get ready to take her to work. My only activity for the day was late afternoon, a club meeting that I had participated in since coming to the university. So I had most of the day to do something. With my new look, I wondered just what that might be.

On the drive to the salon sis informed me that I needed more work, my bimbo look just not good enough for everyday life. My mouth opened to protest that statement, but no words escaped since I was wearing leggings and a short dress like top that barely covered my panties. A low pair of heels adorned my feet making driving the car occupy my undivided attention.

Again dragged into the salon and deposited in a room by myself, I was given a magazine to read, naturally one geared for the female. I was later caught by sis reading an article on how to snare a man, and keep him satisfied. Of course, my face turned instant red, every ounce of blood making its way to my upper body, leaving me dizzy and somewhat woozy. Sis assured me once the time came she would help me find a suitable male partner, but wanted assurances of being included in the marriage ceremony. I sure hope that will never happen, especially the part of finding a suitable male.

On today’s agenda was a set of extensions for my fingernails, of course, painted a rich burgundy color. I quickly found out that the longer nails greatly inhibited me in doing almost anything with my hands. They seemed to go with the bimbo look, their length almost an inch past the end of my fingers.

I received a set of breast forms, glued to my chest with their longest lasting adhesive. Now my time as a bimbo trainee would last a minimum of four months before the adhesive could be removed. A fact that sis took great pleasure in informing me of, after the fact though.

She sprayed my throat several times each time my voice became higher, almost a squeaky feminine tone to it. Sis loved my new voice, while I now had serious doubts whether I could handle living in this new persona.

She decided my lashes were not adequate, so individual lashes were added to my eyelids, making my lashes so feminine. I avoided looking in any mirror, knowing I would be shocked at my new appearance.

A change of wardrobe, was necessary for my afternoon club meeting, starting with a bra for my new breast forms. I was given a different dress to wear, while longer than the one this morning, the bodice giving everybody more to look at with regards to my boobs.

I tried to protest, but sis did not want to hear any of it. I was hustled out of the salon, then driven to the college for my club meeting. I was informed she would come and pick me up after she finished at the salon.

When I asked what I was to do while waiting for her, she told me to see if I could snare a member of the male sex, maybe even getting some kisses, better yet a free meal. She did remind me that since I did not have the appropriate equipment down below yet I should limit my actions to kissing, maybe a blow job if I really liked him.

I stood there mouth open, as she drove off, her last words shaking me up considerably. The thought still in my mind, not wanting to leave. I finally made my way to the meeting, although I noticed some lusty stares from several members of the male gender. My time in the meeting was really wasted, sis’s words still occupying any brain functions. I doubted I could tell you anything that had been discussed in the meeting.

Once the club meeting was over I made my escape, several males following me until I entered the ladies restroom. I did everything I could think of trying to kill some time, finally leaving the safe confines of the restroom. To my surprise there were still several males waiting for me, the cutest of them approaching me wanting to start a conversation. He asked a stupid question about the meeting, anything to get me to talk to him. I was reminded of all the stupid pick-up lines I had used in the past this one not much better than some of the ones I had used in the past. I smiled and told him I had to go, my ride will be here soon.

I made it as far as the library, a couple of buildings from where my meeting was, but alas still no sis. I went in and found a table to sit at, one that only had one unoccupied chair so my male suitors had to sit elsewhere. I opened a book that I had grabbed trying to look busy, but instead was staring off into the distance. When I did look at the book closely, it was a book on what to do on a date, written by a female that looked somewhat like a bimbo. That is where sis found me, looking over my shoulder seeing what I was reading.

“Come along Nicky, time to get you home.”

“Well did you learn anything, you sure looked interested in what you were reading? You know I was standing behind you for ten minutes, you never looked up, so engrossed in learning what to do on a date. I will have to find someone for you, with your new look I am sure you will be quite popular.”

I turned instant red, caught red handed so to speak. I didn’t say anything for fear that I will only make things worse.

Luckily she let the conversation drop, grabbing my hand and leading me to the car. I kind of relaxed some, I really did not want to discuss my feelings or looks, either subject foreign and potentially embarrassing.

At home I went to my bedroom planing to change clothes and end this charade. I opened the closet door then remembered that all of my male clothes were gone. I ran to my dresser hoping she had forgot to remove my underwear. I pulled out each drawer, looking for anything that might resemble a piece of male clothing. Absolutely nothing. I slumped to the floor, the tears starting to slide down my face again.

I know this was supposed to be a learning experience for me, but to be totally immersed in this with no other choice in the role had me frantic. The tears eventually dried up, not enough water to fuel the tear production any longer.

So the Bimbo role continued, sis making me practice talking in a valley girl voice and only about my looks and what I was wearing. I eventually gave up, giving in the simpler way to be able to move on to something else. I was still corrected when I lapsed back to my previous ways, but after awhile I found myself unconsciously talking like a bimbo. My new higher voice along with the change in subject matter only reinforced my bimbo image.

Several more trips to the salon in the following days, each time my bimbo looks refreshed and added to. The most notable was a false vagina glued over my groin, sis so proud that I could now have sex with a male, I no longer had to give blowjobs to keep them interested in me. I never did anything with a male, not wanting anything to do with them. Since my looks were designed to attract the male, I was constantly trying to avoid them. No matter where I was at, I had a crowd, wanting to talk to me or interact with me in other ways. The number of times I was touched on my body was ridiculous, sometimes on the leg, or an arm or worse yet on my waist or hips. Luckily not on the breasts, that would have sent me into panic mode right away.

Oh the desire to be touched there was present, maybe desire was not explicit enough. To yearn to have my nipples squeezed, flesh kneaded, to have my breasts held in someones hand, a wish that would be unobtainable I fear.

High heels became a staple, five and six inches tall with a narrow stiletto heel. Straps that fastened around the ankle to hold then on my feet. Decorated with bows and other feminine objects, making them stand out from a normal high heel. It took me a little while to be able to walk comfortably in them, but soon after I learned to maneuver in them it is the only shoe I chose to wear.

Makeup was redone, after my face was cleansed and treated with numerous creams and lotions. She applied it carefully, making sure to not get it anywhere it was not supposed to be. I had watched as she applied the makeup right away figuring out that what she was doing was for the long term. Another nail in my coffin, the bimbo lifestyle now my only future.

A few weeks passed, sis insisting that I go with her to the salon when she had to work. I guess to make sure I interacted with others. I did talk with others, sometimes my voice is super excited, what we were talking about subjects that I lived every moment for.

Fast forward a couple of months, the bimbo lifestyle still with me. Twice weekly appointments at the salon to keep my bimbo looks fresh and sexy. To keep busy at other times of the week I found a job at a ladies boutique, selling clothes for the bimbo wannabes. So I was always on display, wearing some of the dresses we sold. You can never have enough clothes or shoes, my wages at the boutique usually spent on more heels to match my outfits.

Sis works on me when I show up for my appointment, making sure that my hair and makeup are perfect. Since she often goes over my semi-permanent makeup with a fresh coat of color, I doubt it is ever coming off, even if I wanted it removed. Hair now perpetually curly, repeated use of their setting lotion making sure of it. She has added fancy barrettes to my hairstyle, woven into my hair to guarantee they stay put. Definitely high maintenance.

Nicky is going to be around for quite awhile, a fact that I am quite happy about. Back when I first encountered one when sis worked on her at the salon I couldn’t fathom why they wanted to look that way. Now any mention of me reverting back to my male persona is ignored immediately. My bimbo experience was so fulfilling, not realizing how much it means to me.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Toni; Right Place Wrong Time

 Toni; Right Place Wrong Time

I was headed to the mountains for some well-deserved rest. My scatter brained uncle had a luxury cabin up there and I had managed to persuade him to let me stay there for a couple of weeks. He had earlier in the month rented it out to a movie crew to film an adult fantasy film for one of the cable channels. While I was up there he wanted me to check to see that they had not trashed the place.

It was a full day’s drive up there, since I had not got started as early as I planned, I would not make it there today. I found a motel to stay at, had a nice dinner and then went right to sleep. I was up with the birds, dressed and finished the drive to the cabin. I purposely skipped breakfast, I had things for the refrigerator in an ice chest and planned a nice lunch, then a walk around the surrounding area.

Off the main highway on a small dirt road that led to the cabin I noticed a lot of recent tracks on the road. It had rained a few days ago, any old tracks should have been erased by the rain. I didn’t think too much about it, more anxious to get to the cabin. I made the last turn, the road dropping off into a small valley. Right in the middle of the valley was my uncle’s cabin.

It looked so good nestled among the pines with rays of sunshine peeking through here and there. I drove up to the cabin, parking behind the structure like my uncle advised. I got out of the car, then headed to the front door on the other side of the cabin. As I approached the door, I thought I heard some voices, so I stopped. then after not hearing anything more for a minute, used my key to open the door.

I took one step inside before I was grabbed from behind and a cloth held over my mouth and nose causing me to pass out. Waking up I found myself strapped to a chair, naked as the day I was born. I looked around seeing several females getting things together, the room I was in looking like a beauty salon. My girlfriend being a habitual user of one back home, I often picked her up there so I was familiar with how they looked.

I tried to speak, but found not a word coming out. My tongue was locked in some contraption and my mouth seemed jam packed full of some substance. I struggled to get out of the chair, finding the straps holding me were very secure. Since I was not able to move my arms or my legs any, I tried whimpering, moaning, any sound possible trying to get people’s attention. Everybody ignored me as they just continued prepping whatever they were working on.

One female came around behind me and started working on my hair. She was adding something to my head, I could feel heat then she would do it again this time in a different spot close to the first place. When the other two females turned around they were each holding a cup that they settled on my chest, pushing hard to get the cup secure. Apparently the cup had some type of adhesive applied to the edges. When they pulled up on the cups a little to test their bond the cups remained securely attached to my chest. Hoses were attached to the cups and a pump was turned on sucking some of my flesh into the cups. Every so often a mist would spray on my flesh inside the cup, then nothing for a while.

My nails were worked on next, the one female that had helped with the cups doing the work. The other lady had moved between my legs which were spread wide and anchored to a stirrup like attachment to the chair. I tried to move my fingers, but they were encased in something that kept my fingers still and unable to move.

I closed my eyes in frustration, why won’t anyone help me, surely I have not done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. The frustration was so intense I even cried a little, it has been years since I had felt the need to vent, but what is happening to me has me scared to death. I can’t see any reason to do this to me, and who are these people anyway. I finally gave up, unable to move even a finger I was helpless and so frustrated. I sat there staring at the ceiling wondering what else they were going to do to me. I lost track of time, I reasoned I had got here about ten A.M. but had had no idea how long I was out and how long I have been strapped to this chair. My butt was getting sore, so more than a few hours, that is for sure.

The female working on my hands was apparently done so she moved to my feet. Soon the same type of apparatus was installed down there, my toes now unable to move even a bit. The female that had been working on my groin was apparently also done, so she came to work on my face. I had no idea what she had done with my male member, one minute I could feel her touch it the next no feeling at all. I briefly glanced at my chest, I had been ignoring it hoping that what I thought was happening was just my imagination.

I tried again to move anything desperately, those cups on my chest now looked like tits, very large ones. I promptly fainted, this cannot be happening to me. Right before I passed out I thought I heard voices again, from right outside the cabin, loud voices.

When I came to again, a gorgeous female was standing over me with concern written all over her face. I was still gagged and tied down, so there was nothing I could do. She leaned in closer and tried to explain what happened.

They were filming a scene in which one of the male stars gets captured by a group of females wanting revenge for something he did earlier in his life. The actor playing the male lead was supposed to be coming down the road just as I did. I parked where they had planned and walked around to the front just as the scene was supposed to unfold. My reactions were according to the script to the minutest detail. Even the fainting in the chair after looking at my new breasts. They knew they had made a mistake when the real actor showed up four hours later, having a flat tire on his way here, his excuse for not showing up. There was no cell phone signal so he couldn’t call and tell them of his delay.

Now for the hard part, since we have so much of your transformation already filmed we would like your permission to continue with the scene. You will be paid well for your time and the damage we have done to your masculinity. There are only a few more parts to this scene, then we will release you and work out what to do next. I can’t take out your gag yet, since it is set up on a timer. Please blink twice if you will permit us to finish the scene. I closed my eyes, at least in real life they are not out to get me. I blinked twice, even if I denied them the right to finish the scene I will need their help to get this reversed.

I closed my eyes, some relief now possible. Everybody vanished then the three females came back and finished the job. My eyebrows were eliminated, from the pain when she jerked the cloth strip away, I doubt if there was hair left on either of them. My face was finished, the one gal carefully applying makeup to all the pertinent spots. My ears were played with, they would get warm, and then I felt something inserted in them. Whatever was inserted in then would sway back and forth brushing my neck every once in a while. My legs were released from the stirrups, than something was strapped to the back of my legs, keeping my toes pointed straight down. I felt a shot in both of my calves, then nothing.

The female working with my hair was now apparently done, my chair set more upright then she cut and styled my hair. As she was finishing she sprayed the hair generously with a solution then using a blow dryer with a huge diffuser dried the spray on my hair as she had styled it. Apparently I was done, at least as far as the scene was concerned. That might be truer than it sounds, I began to wonder if any of this can be undone easily, especially the last few things done to me.

I was released from the chair after the forms were taken off my legs and the hoses released from the cups. One glance and I was stunned, the cups were full and now looked quite a bit larger than I first figured. A pair of heels was slipped on my feet and the straps buckled. The same gal that had talked to me earlier came over along with another lady I have seen somewhere. I was handed a robe and taken to a bedroom at the back of the cabin.

The lady from the film company introduced herself as Melissa, the other lady was Dallas. As soon as I heard the name I remembered the commercials for the salons on TV, with her picture alongside the picture of the salon. In fact my girlfriend was a customer of their salons.

We set at a table that had apparently been brought in for just this purpose. Once I set down I was looking at the damage they had managed to create on my body. My hair was now part way down my back and very curly. My nails were super long, painted a very bright shade of red. The heels I was wearing were very tall, much taller than my girlfriend wears. The fact that I was able to walk in them amazing me. I tried to say something the gag still locked in my mouth. Melissa told me it would be another hour before it releases. I was handed a pad and a pen, to communicate my concerns.

Dallas started the conversation telling me about the procedures that were performed on me. Even though the film company had discovered their mistake, no one told the salon’s people that a mistake had been made. The final things that were done to me now semi-permanent, taking months to be able to be reversed. I closed my eyes, this can’t be happening to me, surely they can do something.

Dallas told me that the salon would make the changes back to my masculinity as soon as feasible, most likely in three to four months. To do anything before then would be risky, possibly affecting my long term health. Dallas suggested that I come with her selecting a wardrobe suitable for a few weeks. Then just take one day at a time to see if this was livable with. Melissa said they had one more day of filming, then they would be gone. If I felt up to it I would be included in the last scenes, none of those scenes involving any more changes.

After my gag was removed, it took about an hour before any intelligent sounds emanated from my mouth it was fifteen minutes before I could even move my tongue. The gag had been very effective, pretty much stopping any movement of my tongue and jaw.

When I could squeak a few words Dallas dragged me out of there, and into her car. In a matter of minutes we were headed into town, a little over an hour trip. She kept a steady conversation going, almost making me respond to her. It eventually worked, by the time we reached the outskirts of town I was much more relaxed and actively joining in to the chit chat.

She accepted part of the blame for what was done to me, but they had already had several communication problems with the film company before my arrival. Now the mistake with me to add to the other problems. We ended up at one of her salons, about an hour away from the cabin. Several of their technicians put together a wardrobe for me, mostly dresses with some skirt and blouse combinations. Several pair of heels, since with my leg tendons being shrunk that would be all that I can wear now.

With more than a few bags of clothing she took me to dinner, where we talked about the upcoming few days. She suggested that I participate in the last days filming, my pay for that would be quite substantial.

Along with the pay would be a sum to offset what they had mistakenly done to me, a figure that Dallas had suggested would be some compensation for the mistake. If they balked at the figure Dallas told them that I would be offered the services of their attorney free of charge to take the matter to court. Dallas for their part in the mess would also issue a check to me, plus free clothing and beauty services for life if I desired it. I smiled, I am sure my girlfriend would be happy with the beauty services that is for sure.

After dinner I was taken to a hotel, a suite for the night and then she would personally take me back to the cabin for the last day of filming. I am sure she just wanted to be sure nothing more happened to me. The salon had contracted to supply all beauty services for the filming including my transformation scene.

She helped me to my suite, bringing some of the clothes she had picked out for me. I was instructed in how to remove some of the makeup, the rest is semi-permanent and will have to fade away with time. She told me she would help with my hair in the morning, then her techs would finish the job once we got to the cabin. I was handed a nightie, then hugged for quite some time. It felt so good to be held in a caring embrace. A kiss on the cheek and she was gone.

I took a shower, making sure I didn’t get my new hairdo wet. Then donned the nightie and almost came soon thereafter. The silkiness of the nightie did things to me, wonderful things. The feelings that I felt were different than before, no male organ becoming hard and erect, but a stirring deep within. I didn’t want to look down there, scared as to what I will find. Better to just ignore the feelings, at least, until tomorrow.

I was interrupted by my cell phone ringing, thinking that I knew who might be calling. I knew the explanation would take quite some time, so got comfortable and answered the phone. The third sentence into the conversation I managed to tell her that I was now as pretty as she was, but she still had to love me just the same.

I managed to fill her in on all of the happenings in between her giggle fits, then she surprised me wanting me to take a selfie and send it to her. There was silence for quite some time after the first picture arrived. Her request for me to send another selfie, this time holding my hand up with my fingers displaying the number of cats I had back home.

This time I giggled, she doesn’t think the picture is of me, that I am trying to pull one over on her. I did so, then she told me she would be at the cabin first thing day after tomorrow. I was told she loved me and she hung up. So much for chatting for a while.

The stress of the day finally caught up with me, I was soon counting sheep and forgetting about everything that happened today, well until I tried to roll over on my stomach, my new breasts making that position very uncomfortable.

I had set the alarm on the phone so that I would be up and dressed when Dallas showed up. I was up, but she was still early, she made sure I looked presentable as befits a movie star, her words not mine and we drove back to the cabin. When we arrived they were already set up, five large trucks parked outside the cabin. Apparently yesterday they had dropped off the equipment and parked down the road, allowing for the filming of my car pulling up to the cabin. Today all the scenes were to be filmed inside.

My makeup was done heavier for the filming and I was given a change of clothes. Apparently my character was quite the slut, judging from the clothes and the parts of my new body that were peeking through. Luckily no dialogue for me, just saunter in, make my presence known and kiss my boyfriend. I almost choked when I was told my part in the scene, but the director hustled everybody into their positions and shouted action.

Before I could come to my senses, I was being kissed passionately, I presume any adult film would have lots of passion. My boyfriend apparently really got into the role as his penis swelled in his jeans pushing against my skirt. It was huge, from the size of his erection that was quite apparent. After we broke the kiss he just walked away, his erection still there for all to see.

I sat and watched the rest of the filming, with Dallas sitting next to me. Then it was all over, people coming out of the woodwork to pack everything up so they could leave. Melissa approached with a sheepish look, now comes the hard part for her. I was handed a check, my eyes almost popping out of their sockets, Dallas lightly kicked me to get me to not say anything. She took the check, facing Melissa wanting to know if that was what they figured my life was worth now that they had messed it up real good. I saw her swallow hard, but Dallas kept on. She handed the check back to her, telling her that our attorney would contact theirs, this is not settled, believe me.

Melissa tried to shove some of the blame on Dallas and her techs, Dallas took out a check for more than what the film company was offering and handed it to me. This is our token settlement, although we did not make the mistake. I suggest that you go back to your bosses and get real. She walked away a few feet, calling someone on her cell phone. Isn’t it amazing there was no cell service yesterday, but today it magically seems to be working. Dallas was leading me upstairs to where the bedrooms were as Melissa caught us half way up the stairs. She talked to her bosses and they will triple the amount on the first check, if I will sign a waiver relieving them of any future blame.

I was raising my hand to accept the settlement when Dallas told her to forget it. A check that has not been issued yet is worthless and signing such a wavier is ridiculous since she has no idea how this will affect her in the future. Meet us later today at the hotel in town, bring the check in the proper amount and a limited acceptance of responsibility for this mess.

The settlement will be for the original mistake, the acceptance of responsibility for anything above and beyond normal gender behavior. That along with a clear statement that the original mistake is solely your companies fault will be sufficient. Now if that is acceptable meet us at four o’clock in the restaurant. Dallas turned back to the stairs and I was dragged along behind her. Melissa told us that she would be there at four.

I am sure my mouth was open in awe, none of this had even entered my mind, yet Dallas had come up with everything and almost demanded Melissa and the company agree to her requests. I was returned to town, the hotel suite mine to use for however long I wanted. Dallas had called my girlfriend during today’s filming advising her of the hotel she could find me at this afternoon.

As we walked into the lobby I was attacked, then stared at, then the attack was continued as my lips were smashed against hers. It was so passionate, the feeling of kissing with lipstick on so erotic. Much better with Gina then with the guy in the film.

Dallas excused herself, telling me to call her with anything I might need, she would handle Melissa, getting the settlement on paper and the necessary agreements for me to sign later. If it was agreeable she would treat my girlfriend and me to dinner tonight at seven P.M. I managed to tell her that would be fine between kisses, but all that came out was garbled words. With a smile and a wink I gather she did understand my acceptance of dinner. I led Gina to my room, or at least tried to get her in that direction. It seems she is quite taken with my new appearance and wants to intimately examine all of the nuances of my changes.

I did finally get her to my room, only to be dragged to the bed in it and pushed landing on my back. She was on top of me immediately giggling and trying to get her tongue down my throat in between giggles. I just laid there, all of the feelings washing over me so delightful, something I have never experienced before.

We did make it to dinner, or should I say the dinner made it to us. Dallas was nice enough to have dinner delivered to our room. I managed a few bites, but the majority of the food was cold before we got a chance to eat it. It was still very good, and helped to replenish the calories we were burning. I never knew kissing, cuddling and body exploration could be so exhausting. I did find out it was very pleasurable.

For the next few days we stay holed up in the hotel, we must have used up a whole tube of lipstick trying to keep our lips moist. Even though I was wary of going to the cabin again, we did go later in the week mainly exploring the woods around it. A delightful stream was one of out favorite spots, a pool in between two out cropping of rocks a perfect place to spy on some trout, and partake of the sound of the water pouring over the rock outcroppings in mini waterfalls.

We found sustenance somehow, having to hold ourselves to one meal a day. Too many things to explore and a relationship to develop anew. Sometimes fixing nourishment at the cabin, more often though at the hotel dining room in town.

Dallas did come through, the movie company agreeing to all of her demands, a check made out to Toni Douglas for the full amount. The spelling of my first name in the feminine since I am living as a female now. I doubt they will make any money on this particular venture.

Back at home Gina decided that I was to be made not available for any more ventures, asking me to marry her a day after we got back home. I was to be the bride. Although she conceded to wear a dress for her part of the ceremony too. It was a quickie, the license in the morning and before a justice of the peace that afternoon. I received an engagement ring, plus a wedding band with a threat from her that they were never to be taken off.

I received another ring also right after the ceremony at the hotel we were staying at for our honeymoon. We won’t discuss it and where it is located on my body, although it does fit snug and tight. The lock glued shut, the ring never to come off.

Of course, we are both regular customers of the Turnabout Gurl Salon, our VIP cards getting us preferential treatment and free services. I have taken advantage of most of their services, now as female looking as modern science can provide. Everything done to me shouts female, from my hair to my toes. What was not handled at the cabin was performed on me, now proud to be a little more girly than a jealous Gina. Oh, she does partake of the new me quite often though.

I still think back to that fateful day. Being in the right place at the wrong time changed my life that day, most certainly my destiny. Whoever was managing my fate that day, thank you.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Paula; Woman Of The Year

 Paula; Woman Of The Year

There was the phone call from her informing me that she would be an hour late. She did tell me not to fix dinner as she would pick up something for us on the way home. This is her women’s business meeting day, so it must be some meeting to cause her to be late.

Katie, my wife, was one of the founders of the group almost ten years ago, and has served as President of the group on several occasions. All of the ladies are business owners or head of companies doing business in the area. To join you have to be referred by a present member and then approved by the nominating committee. The group along with promoting females to start businesses or advance in the business world also helps them prosper. They constantly network among themselves sending others to the appropriate place for help or to shop. The group does a lot of community services, in fact, they are quite a force in our little section of the state.

I briefly wondered what caused the delay today, but then remembered I had some left over work from today at the office that needed to be finished and faxed back so that my secretary could get it typed up and sent out first thing in the morning. My company had just bought a smaller upstart business, and were in the process of getting all the licenses and permits sorted out.

It is a shame how many businesses are started only to fail during the first year. Most of this due to poor planning and not networking within the community. The idea for the business could have been a winner, but a lack of follow through doomed then from the start.

Katie’s business women’s group provided that encouragement, and assistance to get things moving. The females they offered help to accepted the help, eagerly taking the advice and implementing it, watching as their fledgling upstarts started to flourish.

Just like the business we just had taken over, started by a male, adequate financing and a terrific idea, but he reached out to no one for help, so it barely existed for a few months then died when adequate sales could not be found.

When we bought it from him, it was found out he never approached anyone for help or advice, thinking his idea was so good it needed no help to succeed. We bought it for a song, started doing things he should have been doing from the start and in less than a week sales have doubled.

Most of the businesses I presently owned were such, a new upstart that eventually failed. I carefully picked the ones with some potential, then corrected the faults till they took off. I found and trained managers to run each business, then let them loose.

In my experience a female manager turned out to be a wiser choice since they sought out help from me and others to get ahead, where a male was often to proud to ask for help. My management choices were correct, all of my thirteen businesses now flourishing.

I heard Katie’s car pull into the garage, then went to the kitchen to layout some silverware and plates to eat on. She came in, placed the takeout on the kitchen bar, then hugged me tenderly, kissing me firmly on the lips. I raised my eyebrow at her actions, then she moved to my ear, her lips and tongue embracing it and sending shivers all through my body. Oh gawd, what have I done now, or maybe something I haven’t done was the problem.

She broke off the attack on my body and set out the food to eat, then retrieved a pitcher of green tea from the refrigerator for our drink. I had rounded up a couple of glasses and headed for my seat. I noticed the plates had been moved, now both in front of her seat. She grabbed my hand and led me to her normal seat and then pushed me down on the chair. She made sure she had everything then set in my lap twisting her fanny to make sure I was aware of her being there, and seeing if she could get junior motivated some. She soon had him energized, now the problem was what I had done or not done that is causing all of this preferential treatment. Not that I am complaining, but this happens so infrequently, I must have failed miserably in something.

She had positioned herself so she could feed us, a bite for me than one for her. Then a pause and a sip of my green tea as the glass was held up against my lips. I tried to raise my hands to feed myself, but they were routinely placed by my side after telling me to keep them there. Of course, a kiss was offered every now and then, along with a repositioning of her butt on my lap to make sure junior was still aware of her presence. I tried to find out what this was all about, but my questions were left unanswered, a smirk left on her face as she totally ignored my requests for information.

Once the meal was finished, she grabbed both sides of my head, holding it firmly as she proceeded to check out my tonsils, ones that had been missing for years. I was definitely turned on now, junior making sure his presence was known to her. She cleaned up the few dirty dishes and silverware, while making sure I did not get up from her chair.

Back again, her twisting her butt several times as she got comfortable on my lap. She mentioned that junior seems to be enjoying himself, but she needed me to listen very carefully to what she has to say. All of this as her arms were around my neck and her hands in my hair twisting and pulling little tufts of it.

“The meeting today was to select a woman of the year, someone who exemplifies what the group stands for. In the past, several of her long time friends have shared in that honor, including Felicity your main rival in business these days. Lots of names were brought up today, each doing some of the things that her group stands for, but no clear cut winner in the group. Incidentally, several of your general managers were among the nominees, something you should be proud of.

Debate went on for over an hour, then Felicity startled everyone by suggesting someone that had not been brought up before. She first listed the nominees actions over the past year, each action supporting one of the founding principles of the group. I listened to her words and a smirk came to my face as she went on and on. She concluded her presentation by informing the members that the nominee would first have to be inducted into the group, then after that had happened she could be nominated and then elected to be the woman of the year.”

A name was mentioned and there was a sudden hush in the room, several seconds to the nomination were quickly voiced, then a vote was called for and it was unanimous. We will have a new member of the professional woman’s group, one that I am quite familiar with. The talk around the room was boisterous, several disappointed they had not thought to bring this person to light earlier. During all of this Felicity was staring at me, seeing if I was going to put the kibosh on her pick. Once she mentioned your name, the smirk on my face was visible from ear to ear. Darling, welcome to the Suburban Professional Business Women’s Group.

It took me a couple of minutes to digest what she had said, namely that me a male was now a member of a women’s group and apparently the leading contender for their Woman Of The Year Honor. I calmly asked her why she didn’t stop this from happening, her giggly response did not make me feel any better.

“I happen to agree with them, you are our best candidate for the honor, everything you do fits right in with what we try to teach our members to do in the community, it is just wrapped up in a slightly different package than one of our normal members.

You network with others to get ahead and you appreciate the female work ethic, since every one of your upper level managers are female. You have donated time to almost every charity fund drive and serve on the board of our school district. You spear headed a food drive to help the church that feeds the poor, and often go there to help cook and serve. None of this is asked of you, you just see a need and work to fill it. So yes, I think you are our woman of the year, maybe the most qualified in recent years.”

“The girls that run your companies, all members of our group I might add, have pitched in and got you an appointment at the Turnabout Gurl Salon. That way the apparent incongruity between your present image and the Woman Of The Year can be straightened out before we have the presentation dinner for the award.”

In discussions after the meeting I was surprised that some of our members thought we were a lesbian couple, you being the more masculine one of the happy couple. Once that was brought to light, they were dumbfounded sighting many examples where you appeared female both in looks and actions.

Even a few of my closest friends had doubts about you being a member of the male sex, your typical ponytail usually done up higher than a male wears it and your use of my scrunchies to keep it in place pointing to the fact that you are a female at heart.

Then we have your walk, about as sexy and feminine as any woman, in fact many of my friends have asked me countless times how you manage such a sexy walk and you are not even wearing heels. When you speak another fact emerges, the voice of a female. Unless the person is looking at you they hear a female, even some that are aware of your looks see a female instead of a male.

“Look Katie there is no way I can do this, I am sure you electing a male for a usual female held position will cause you all kinds of grief. What will happen if the press gets a hold of this, embarrassment for me and ridicule for your group. Just pick the next best qualified person and be done with it. I am sure I can live without receiving this honor, what I do in life I do because I want to. I see a need and if I can help fill it I either do it myself or see that it gets done. If more people would do that it would be a much nicer world out there.

“Now did you buy some dessert or do I need to whip something up?”

I didn’t see the punch coming, but my arm sure felt it. I have to cut done on her use of the gym in town if this keeps up. I got a solemn look from her as she walked to the bedroom, I just hope she forgets about all of this.

I did make something for dessert, some Jello pudding with fresh sliced fruit and a sweet sauce to go over the end result. I took a bowl of it to the bedroom and served it to her. She was on the phone so I left it with her and returned to the kitchen. When she brought the empty bowl to the kitchen it must have been alright.

The next couple of days passed without any mention of this absurdity. Relations between us were icy though. I figured I had dodged the bullet and relaxed some. Big mistake on my part.

It was early the following morning when Katie asked if I could come down to her office, one of my managers was being rewarded for her effort to help the local day care facility raise some funds to remodel and update some of their furnishings at the house they used in town.

Katie had been the one to help raise the funds for them to buy the house in the first place a few years ago, so a favorite project of hers. Jenny my manager of an insurance agency loved to do things like this, so I was glad to help in rewarding her for her hard work and effort.

I arrived a few minutes early and entered Katie’s office. Like her usual award ceremonies there was a small buffet in the outer office, drinks on another table and several tables set up for people to sit and nibble. Jenny was there already surrounded by members of the women’s group. There was a plaque on the table at the head of the room with Jenny’s name on it.

The women’s group along with giving a plaque also gave out a cash incentive, some thing to maybe spur further involvement in the community. Even though I was not a member of the group I always contributed to the pot, since it benefited the community as a whole.

I guess I was lulled into a peaceful existence, not expecting anything to happen to me. I had managed to talk to Jenny some, congratulating her on her efforts and reward. Then I noticed several other of my female managers enter her office. We chatted, nibbled on the food and generally had a good time.

Bethany, the first of my employees that I promoted to a manager position approached me asking me if I could come by her office to discuss something that was bothering her. Along with being my first manager she was also the most dedicated and caring. I told her sure, just let me know when you are leaving. She suggested that I ride with her to her office, then she could return me here after we had discussed the problem.

The reason for me to have to go to her office never entered my mind, it just didn’t occur to me that the problem could be discussed here just as easily. It was a half hour later when the party broke up my wife assaulting me as she gave me a passionate kiss and groped my body in a most unusual way. I gave her a funny look, wondering what was going on.

Bethany was right there to lead me away suggesting that next time it might be more appropriate if we got a room. Of course, I blushed red but was still easily led away. In her car then the short ride to her office. As we got out of the car I was led next door instead of into her office, her assuring me that the problem concerned this business.

The business was a salon that had opened a few months ago and was quite a hit among the ladies of our little town. For some reason I failed to connect the name of the salon with an earlier conversation between Katie and myself. When I was taken to a room in the back to find all of my female managers standing there with huge smiles on their face, I knew I had been conned.

They each helped in removing a piece of my clothing, gave me a hug and walked out. I made an effort to keep my clothes, but my hands were batted away often, the end result is no clothes.

Stacy the youngest of my group told me how it was going to be. We have your clothes, your money, credit cards, and even your cell phone. This is going to happen, so relax and enjoy. If you are still upset afterward you can fire all of us, but seeing you as you should be will be worth it for us. I have special permission to kiss you from your wife, who couldn’t be here right now since she is busy throwing out all your male clothes at home and hanging your new wardrobe.

If you give any of the girls here trouble we will leave you here for the night, the salon girls anxious to feminize you, so even more time for the process will be appreciated by them. I heartily suggest you comply, I would hate to see you in diapers and sucking on a baby bottle if you give them any trouble. Incidentally that is after they have erased any masculinity from your body.

She reached up holding my face with her hands as our lips touched, as she pressed tighter and her tongue invaded my mouth. The kiss lasted longer than I expected, as she pulled back, licked her lips and then grabbed her cell phone and called my wife.

She thanked her profusely for the chance to kiss me, wanting to know if a deal could be worked out for more kisses later. She then handed the phone to me as my wife told me to be good, if you behave I will be by to pick you up at ten tonight. If not it will be a long lonely night for you. She made kissee noises and she hung up.

Well with that kind of persuasion I guess my fate is sealed. I laid back on the table and they started on me. I tried to figure out why they were so adamant to getting me to look like a female. I guess they were right about how I wore my hair, the sexy walk was just how I walked, nothing contrived or done on purpose. I thought of how I might look as a female and had to ditch that thought immediately since my mind was now going along with that line of thinking.

I was aware of them doing something between my legs, but my male organ had already decided they were up to no good and had shrunk trying to hide in his camouflage. Too late his camouflage was being removed by another tech using a sweet smelling cream spread all over my body. I felt a spray on my groin and then nothing.

When the lady that was between my legs moved alongside of me holding two fairly large cups that looked like breasts I raised my head to see what they had done to junior to find him missing, a cute slit surrounded by soft lips the only thing left. It did take me a minute to realize what that implied and I promptly fainted as the two cups she was holding were glued to my chest.

When I did return to the land of the living the first thought that entered my mind was woman of the year, yep I am now firmly in that gender. My thoughts were mixed up over the next few hours, the incessant pulling of my flesh into the cups on my chest was still there sprinkled along with things being done to my hair, ears and then makeup on my face. At eight-thirty the damn pump making breasts on my chest cut off, as I let out a huge sigh.

I had purposely not looked at the filling cups, just too much to handle right now emotionally. The hoses were detached from the cups and I was helped to sit up. They helped me into a bra, to support my new breasts, a requirement from now on. Then a pair of panties was slid up my legs, the silky texture doing a job on my feelings. Goose bumps popping up everywhere.

A pair of heels and then a dress was slipped over my head. I felt the zipper being inched up my back, several more huge sighs erupting from my mouth as it rose up to my neck. A glance at the mirror across the room and I had to lean against the table for support.

The person formally known as Paul was now unequivocally a female, in fact an attractive one from first glance. Oh shit, along with looking like a woman I now will have to deal with men as a female would. Why me?

Katie to the rescue, as she took hold of me and woman handled me all the way to her car. All of my new appendages were squeezed and otherwise groped. Yes, even down there as she scooted her hand under the hem of my dress in search of my new female sex. Yep it was there as her finger explored the opening then withdrew so that she could concentrate on her driving, it being imperative to get me home so a closer examination could be performed.

Let’s just say it was a long night, the sun rising in the east before I was able to close my eyes and grab a cat nap. I called my secretary telling her I would be late, but instead of understanding she insisted I get my butt to the office and now, since she had not been able to view the new packaging for her boss. I looked down at my body seeing a most feminine body encased in a sexy nightie, that was far from conservative.

I had to dress myself, my closet now had only a females clothes to choose from. So had to look to find what I needed to be presentable. When I sat at Katie’s vanity I looked in the mirror and groaned. My makeup was still almost perfect, and my hair only needed me to run my fingers through it to be acceptable. I imagine my makeup was different than Katie's since hers often smudges from kissing or eating a meal especially her lipstick.

I made the trip to my office knowing that sooner or later I would have to face the world looking like this. Molly, my secretary was out from behind her desk in an instant grabbing my hands and appraising the merchandise. I received numerous hugs, along with numerous compliments about my appearance.

Then just like that it was back to business mode, as she showed me to my desk with numerous piles of papers each dealing with a different subject. She went through each pile then when she got to the biggest pile she told me it was responses from the community about my dressing and acting as a female now. I was told there was one hundred and fifty emails from community leaders, friends and business acquaintances about my gender change.

To sum it up the main sentiment expressed in these emails was its about time. So I suggest you get busy, each of these emails needs to be responded to, thanking them for their thoughts and expressing your continued dedication to the community. I got another hug and she left me to my task.

I am not sure what to think, but it seems this is now my life, a most wonderful life filled with love, friendship and caring.

Paula did get elected as Woman of the Year an honor I am very proud of. I just wish Katie would ease up some with the nightly show of affection I do need my beauty sleep now and then.

P.S. Five years later I am still living the life of a female both in business and at home. Katie watches over me like a hawk, making sure that no one gets a chance at me. I am cherished and loved to the extreme. On more than one occasion it is almost time to get up before I get a chance to close my eyes and get a little sleep.

Twice a week appointments at the salon to keep me pretty, and a multitude of female friends to support me. I have added to my businesses, now numbering twenty three at last count. I help around the community as often as I can and have served on several civic groups. I am still proud of the year I was awarded Woman Of The Year. A life changing event for sure.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca Walker