Sapphire's Place - Marina Tweleve's " Blind Sided "

In this G rated CD fest, 14 year old Tim Morris is pressed to substitute for a bridesmaid who had to drop out ten days before his sister’s wedding. Neither Tim or his sister is keen on the idea, but the situation is desperate. Tim is their only hope and his performance must be perfect, otherwise he could embarrass both himself and his sister and ruin “the perfect wedding” for which their father is shelling out over 35 grand.

BLIND SIDED

By MARINA TWELVE

I could hear Mom and My sister, Christy moaning and groaning again.

“What’s wrong now?” I asked myself.

I was quite used to the pattern by now. For the last two months they had been busy planning “The Perfect Wedding” And life at our house had been “a thrill a minute” ever since the preparations began.

Sis would be getting married in less than two weeks and still she and my mother had all sorts of details to work out. Our house had become “Pandemonium central” as mom and my sister argued cajoled and negotiated with each other, the other players involved, and even got myself and Dad into the mess.

Dad told me that if he wasn’t the “father of the bride” he would have taken a vacation at Uncle Will’s place in Arkansas for a few weeks just to get away from all the noise and drama. I was all ready to go myself, but Christy, my Sister and the Bride to be had “lassoed” me into being one of the “pages”.

“That’s a little kid’s job” I argued, “I’m almost fifteen years old!” But she would not listen to me—and proceeded to have me fitted for a frilly and “dorky” looking page boy’s outfit. “We all have to do our part, Tim” she replied.

Fortunately, Saner heads prevailed. The hired consultant agreed with me---and even convinced Christy to drop the idea for page boys all together. I wish she had done it sooner, now it was too late for me to leave for Uncle Will’s.--- But now I was “The Brother of the Bride”—and would serve as an usher.

As School was out for the summer, I was home a lot, but kept myself sequestered in my room with the Internet and X-Box to keep me company. But the noise filtered through the closed doors. Every few days, like today, something would go wrong. A plan was changed, a person couldn’t make it, a caterer changed his prices, the musicians couldn’t play the music someone wanted. The result was a series of screams groans and loud arguing. Eventually a compromise would be reached and things would settle down—it had been like this for weeks.

True to form the hysterics settled down and my mother and sister agreed on a set of new arrangements.

I was settling back to savor the quiet when KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! “TIM!” my sister pounded on my door. She opened it and barged in, carrying a yellow tape measure. My mother followed her in and stood quietly by the door.

“Quick!” she ordered “Stand up!”

“What’s this about?” I asked, slightly annoyed by the intrusion.

“Maybe nothing,” she replied. “Hold still a second!”

She wrapped the tape measure around my chest, a little lower that where one would usually take a chest measurement.

“Thirty seven and a half!” she called out to Mom. “It’s okay there!”

Before I could speak, she asked “Quick Tim, How tall are you?”

“I don’t know, five six, five seven---.”

She pushed me up against the wall, made a quick mark with her pencil and measured the distance to the floor. “Five six!” she shouted to Mom.

“I suppose I could take the hem up an inch.” My mother replied.

“Hem?” I asked. “What hem? What’s this all about?”

“Just an idea” said Sis.

“We could make it work.” Said Mom

“Make WHAT work?” I asked, suspecting they were up to something sneaky.

“Ainsley Thomas’s mother has to have surgery. She can’t make it to the wedding.” said my sister.

“So?”

“She’s one of the bride’s maids. And I can’t find anyone to replace her.”

“So?. . .” Then it dawned on me.

“You gotta be kidding.” I replied incredulously, expecting my mother and sister to suddenly break out into smiles. But the Smiles didn’t come.

“So you will have FIVE instead of six bride’s maids, that’s plenty.”

“No it isn’t!” My sister replied. “They won’t match up on both sides”

“Then use four.”

“I’m NOT going to kick one of the couples off, besides, this is a BIG wedding. I need all the Bride’s maids I can get. I was lucky to find six.”

“Listen Tim, I’m really desperate, If I can’t find another girl, my perfect wedding will be ruined. I have already got all my friends and cousins that can make it. I don’t know what to do.” She was on the verge of tears.

“What about Lisa?’ I suggested as a way to help.

“Lisa Denby? She weighs THREE hundred pounds! We would have to make an entire new dress for her.”

“You mean tent?” I replied with a smile.

“ Besides, We haven’t time for that. Lisa is nice and all, but we just couldn’t fit her in.”

“Mom! Tell Christy this idea is crazy.”

“Christy is right, we HAVE to do something. Right now you are the only warm body available for the job, no matter how crazy it sounds. You are the right size and build and I think you can pull it off.”

“Gee thanks for the Moral support.”

Christy leaned closer to me. “Look Tim” she said. “ Mom and Dad are paying over thirty grand for this wedding. It HAS to be right. Do YOU think that I LIKE the idea of my little brother being one of the bride’s maids?”

“Sure you do! You would never miss a chance to embarrass and humiliate me.” I angrily retorted. “The kids at school already tease me because of my size. A couple even call me “queer” because I’m not all that great at sports. Man, if word ever got out that I was dressed up as a bride’s maid, I would have to move to Canada. ”

“Now kids! No fighting!” my mother intervened.

“Embarrass and humiliate YOU?” my sister replied. “I have the most to lose from this if anything goes wrong. If anyone recognizes you, the most important day of my life would be turned into a farce. A Circus! Not to mention that YOU would become the center of attention rather than myself.”

“Then why even consider it?”

“It’s the ONLY thing we can think of doing.” Said Mom. “We can say that you are “Cousin Deana from Milwaukee.” That could explain any family resemblances. Nobody will know who you really are. They CAN’T or we ALL will be in big trouble.”

I sat down on my bed, stunned for a moment. Surely THIS had to be some kind of BIG joke, but nobody was laughing. ‘This is Crazy!. . . No Way!” I muttered.

“It might cost us several hundred dollars.” Mom continued. “But that’s nothing compared to the thousands we have already invested in the plans. If we do this the illusion MUST be perfect---and we will be willing to do anything short of plastic surgery and castration to pull it off.”

Christy didn’t look any more “amused” than I did over the prospect. That was out of character for her, especially when my pride was concerned. She was truly at the end of her rope. I represented her last glimmer of hope—and even that looked dubious.

I was trapped, blindsided by something totally unexpected that came out of nowhere. This was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. At least they were going to make an attempt at it. What else could I do? They were family I had to co-operate.

“Peggy can help us.” Said Christy after some thought. Peggy was one of the remaining Bride’s maids.

“Is that wise?” Mom replied “The fewer people that know about this the better.”

“She’s the star actress in the community theatre. She knows all about costumes, makeup, and stuff. Face it, we are going to need some professional help.”

“We have to tell your father too.” Mom said.

Yes, there was no way they could try this stunt without HIM finding out. Perhaps HE might nix the idea then and there. “Yes,” I thought, “Perhaps I would get a reprieve after all.” Things were starting to look up again, as far as I was concerned.

Mom presented the idea to him at lunch. She explained the situation and he began to laugh. For a moment I thought that he would choke on his food. When it was apparent that the danger was over, I began to chuckle too.

“Do you really want to do this son?” he asked.

“No way! If the guys ever found out. . .”

“Christy is family son. This wedding really means a lot to her---and God knows I’m paying enough for it. Family has to stick together. We all have to make sacrifices for each other.”

My jaw hit the floor. Instead of a reprieve, Dad laid a “guilt trip” on me.

“But Dad. . .” I began to say, but I saw the serious look on his face. “Okay, I. . . I’ll give it a try.”

“Thanks, Tim.” My sister said in all sincerity, but with about as much enthusiasm as I was feeling at the moment. Most of the “onus” would be on ME. If I “goofed up” this gig it would be all over for both me AND my sister. And I would have cost my folks thousands of dollars. I HAD to do MY part and do my best to do it right. Even if it meant subjecting myself to some mighty embarrassing and degrading situations.

Mom and Christy would have to come through on their end too. I doubted that they could really make me look like an authentic girl. If THEY goofed up, it would be THEIR fault, but still the results would be just as tragic for us all.

***********************

“God, you are really serious about this aren’t you Cathy?”

I recognized Peggy’s voice as the two young women approached my room. They knocked and then let themselves right in. Sheesh! Sisters! They never respect a guy’s privacy.

Peggy Byrd was about the same age as my sister, 19, but with her curly blonde hair, looked like the stage “star” that she hoped to eventually be. My sister was no slouch herself, in the looks department, but did not quite measure up to Peggy’s “flash and dazzle”.

“Well let’s see what we have to work with.” Was the first thing she said. “Is this the victim?” she said with a smile.

“Yep that’s my little bro. Is there any hope for him—and us.”

She looked me over like a prize steer.

“Hmmmm, take off your shirt.”

I looked at Sis. The expression on her face suggested that I should comply.

Red faced, I slipped off my tee shirt. Although not all that scrawny and skinny, I still was not very proud of my, as yet, not to manly physique.

Peggy looked me over some more. And smiled. “I like that.” she said. “Not too much muscle, but not too thin either” She commented.

To my surprise, she placed her hand on my chest and pushed some of the skin around. “We have good loose skin and a bit of fat to work with here, and look, his waist is quite thin too.”

“That’s good, huh?” Sis asked?

“As well as we could hope for.” Peggy replied. “It will be expensive, and take some time, but we can do it.”

“Mom said we can spend what we need to,” said Sis, “And do what we need to, so long as we don’t do anything that will permanently damage him.---physically anyway.” She had to smile at that last comment.

“How long will it take, Peggy?”

“Christy, this isn’t just some dress-up thing we can do just before the wedding. It will take DAYS to properly transform him. And then he will need even more time to practice and get used to his new appearance.” Said Peggy in a serious tone of voice. “He doesn’t even know how to walk properly yet, not to mention walking in heels.”

“Will we have enough time?”

“We will have ten days if we start right away. Not as much time for the costuming and rehearsal as I would like, but possibly long enough. It will have to do.”

Peggy slowly walked around me, like a circling shark, critically eyeing my features. She reached out and felt my hair, taking a few strands of the light brown stuff in her hands. My hair was not cut short. It was long enough to look “fashionable” in my peer group, but it was not long, like a girls’. Just below “collar length” and combed back to keep it out of my eyes.

“Hmmm,” Said Peggy “We can re-Style his own hair or get a wig.”

“What would work best?” Sis asked.

“Using his own hair would be better and would look more realistic. We would have to add extensions though. Fortunately, his hair is long enough for that.”

“Can you do it?”

“No but Minnie can.”

“The beautician?” replied Sis. “Mom said few people as possible can know about this. We can’t risk. . .”

“We need Minnie, Christy. His hair is going to also going to have to be styled and colored. Only a professional can do that right. Minnie can keep her mouth shut. She had better, if she wants our business ever again.”

“She will have to do it herself, I don’t want to bring any of her assistants in on this. I can make some before or after hours arrangements with her.”

Sis looked over at me and smile slightly. “Peggy, there is one problem I am curious about. Those gowns show a lot of tit---

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered there. I know this place that sells theatrical supplies. They have some of the best breast forms that you have ever seen. They don’t come cheap, but once we attach them I would challenge anyone to tell them from the real thing.”

“Are you sure? Tim’s got to be able to pass close inspection. If there is the slightest thing wrong. . . well I don’t want to even think about it.”

“Hey don’t worry. By the way, how big do we need them?”

“Ainsley wore. . . wears a “C” cup. That’s what the gown was made for. Thirty-eight band size.

‘A little big for a fourteen year old.”

“Ainsley is eighteen. And Tim needs to look older anyway. At least by a few years. Can we do it?”

“Easy. With those big tits and older makeup it wont be a problem at all., Besides boys, with their slightly heavier builds, make more convincing adult women than girls do.”

*******************

I stood there, shirtless, listening to the girls talk about what they were going to do to me. It was almost like slow torture. Indeed. In the old days it was the first thing that the guy who ran the dungeon would do to a prisoner who wouldn’t talk---Show him the tools of torture and describe what would happen. More often than not, the prisoner would confess or do whatever was demanded of him then and there. The torture guys seldom got to actually ply their trade for real.

But I didn’t have an out. The way they were talking was quite serious. Some big changes were coming into my life whether I wanted them to or not. It was almost surreal. Like some kind of strange dream.

“Well, Shall we get started then?” said Peggy with a somewhat louder voice that got my attention.

“What are we going to do first” asked Sis.

“Just a few preliminaries. Get rid of his body hair and start him out in high heels for now. I’ll call Minnie while we are waiting and see if she can work on his hair tomorrow.”

“Hey, It’s ten, no, eleven days till the wedding” I protested. “Can’t all this stuff wait till later?”

“Hey, Tim” Peggy replied “its going to take days to transform you. And you will need all the time AFTER that to practice. You need learn how to walk sit and move and carry yourself like a woman. We only have ten days after all. Ten weeks might not be long enough, but we sure as hell are going to give it a good try.”

Her statement threw me a bit. This might be more difficult than I thought.

Peggy didn’t give me a chance to put my shirt back on. She led me right to the bathroom. Sis followed.

She handed my sister a plastic bottle.

“Here Christy, you have him strip down to his shorts. And put this stuff all over him from his neck down. I’ll leave you two alone till everything is ready. I’ll try to contact Minnie.”

Peggy left and Sis closed the door. “Okay bro, you heard her, you know what to do.”

Embarrassed, I slipped of my jeans and stood before my sister in my underwear.

“Loose the shorts too”, she demanded ‘We gotta do this right. Don’t worry it’s nothing I haven’t seen before”

I slipped off my shorts, and instinctively covered my nudity with my hands. To my sister’s credit, she said nothing about it and didn’t look any more than she had to, in order to perform the task at hand.

She slathered this strong smelling white goo all over me, from the neck down as Peggy had instructed. Laying it on especially heavy on my arms and legs.

“Now stand still and don’t move!” she said after she finished. I must have stood there for twenty minutes until she told me time was up and I could go shower it off. She left me alone to finish up by myself.

I showered the smelly stuff off and discovered that my skin felt really smooth. I soon saw why. My body was entirely hairless. My arms, legs and every where else were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Gosh! I looked like. . . I looked like a girl! I quickly dried off and put my shorts and jeans back on.

I started to run back to my room to get a shirt. I had to hide this. My arms looked like girls arms. It was quite embarrassing.

“How’d it go bro?” said my sister with a smile as she met me in the hall. She grabbed me by my arm as I walked by and felt it. “Heeey not bad.” I snatched it away and continued on to my room.

Sis followed me. She said nothing as she watched me pull on a sweatshirt. Peggy soon joined us.

“It’s all set with Minnie” she said. “She wants us to be in the parlor by six O’clock in the morning at the latest.” She will do it herself before hours---but it will cost us double for the labor.”

“How did it go with Tim?”

“Fine” my sister replied. “But he doesn’t want anyone to see.”

Peggy walked over to me and pulled up the leg of my jeans. “Great legs” she said teasingly as she rubbed my hairless calf.

“Hand me your shoe, Christy.” Peggy asked. My sister complied. She slipped off her right shoe and handed it to Peggy.

Peggy sat me on the bed, grabbed my foot and tried Sis’s shoe on me for size.

“It’s a bit too small.” She said “What about your mother? Are her feet any bigger than yours?”

“I think”, said Sis “let me fetch one of her shoes for you.”

Sis quickly returned with one of mom’s dress pumps. Peggy pushed it on my foot. It was a bit narrow, but it did fit. “Great!” Peggy replied. “Does your mom have anything with a higher heel---that she will let us borrow?”

Sis ran out of the room again and I could hear her talking with Mom. Sis appeared in the door once again.

“What size heel?” she asked Peggy.

“Four inch if she has them.”

Both Mom and Sis returned to my room a few minutes layer. Mom held in her hand a pair of dark red pumps with thin ankle straps.

“The heel’s a little high, don’t you think?” She asked Peggy.

“It will be fine Mrs. Morrison. If Tim can master these, walking in those three inchers that you have for the wedding will be a breeze for him.”

“You cant wear them barefoot.” Mom told me. “Here, roll up your pants leg a minute for me.”

I did what she requested. It was then I noticed something in her hands, that looked like tan nylon hose, only smaller. She took one, scrunched it up in her hand and then proceeded to pull it over my foot and up my leg.

“They’re called knee highs,” she explained. I could see why. It ended with an elastic band that held it up just below my knee. She did the other one and pulled my pants legs back down. I looked like I was wearing nylons.—I was-- sort of.

“Women wear these when they wear pants.” She said.

Before I could finish contemplating my nylon-sheathed feet, she reached over and slipped one of the shoes on my feet. The socks were quite slippery, my foot slid right in.

“A little snug, but still a good fit.” She remarked.

She slid on the other shoe and proceeded to fasten the ankle straps.—-One at the top of each shoe connected to it behind the heel. Gosh! I was not going to be able to easily shake these things off.

Then I noticed something scary. My feet looked just like WOMEN’S FEET. The shape of the shoes and the position I was forced to hold them in looked very feminine indeed. The hint of nylon encasing my smooth leg as it disappeared up my pants leg only served to intensify the effect.

I could feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck. It wasn’t hard at all to imagine my blue jeaned legs that now ended with the strappy red high heels as belonging to a young woman.---but they were MINE. I nervously shuttered.

“Okay, Stand up” said Peggy as she grasped my hand and helped me to my feet.

It took me a second to get my feet situated on the floor before I shakily managed to pull myself upright.

I almost toppled over, but Peggy steadied me before I could fall. I was now four whole inches taller. It was weird to be able to look almost eye to eye with Mom.

I felt almost rooted to the floor. Though I could now stand, but didn’t dare take a step.

“Put your weight on the balls of your feet” Peggy told me.

“Yeah,” Sis chimed in “Like you are walking on your toes. Use the heels only to rest on.”

I tried it. Peggy held my hand as I attempted my first tentative steps. Yes! Keeping my weight on my toes was the trick.

“Not quite as hard as I thought it was” I quipped. I was able to let go of Peggy’s hand and walk on my own.

“Now don’t get in a hurry Tim,” Peggy warned me. “Take it slow and easy and take shorter steps. Those heels can get caught in carpet loops and things on the floor. You have to always be careful.”

After a couple rounds around the room, I felt that I was well on my way to getting the hang of these things. I sat down on the bed and fumbled with the strap buckles. I had enough practice for one night.

Peggy ran over and stopped me. “Oh no you don’t!” You must wear them until bedtime. You will wear four inch heels all day every day until the Wedding.”

“What?” I protested. “I can’t wear these crazy things around ALL of the time.”

“It takes time to learn how to walk in heels.” She countered. “some girls can learn in a week, others take months and some never learn at all. YOU have only ten days and you need to be an expert by then. Perhaps if we keep you in them all the time it might be long enough.”

I looked down at my feminine looking feet. What had been an interesting little experience has suddenly become a physical encumbrance. One that I would have to live with for the foreseeable future.

I couldn’t sit down on my bed for the rest of the evening. I had things to do. But now I would have to find a way to do them in these shoes. Thank God I didn’t have to leave the house, but simple things like getting a Coke from the fridge or walking to the bathroom were going to become real challenges.

****************

Peggy left for the evening and Christy went back to her own room leaving me to my own devices. I lay on my bed and watched television until Mom called us to supper.

I stumbled and “clip clopped” to the dinner table much to the amusement of my mother and sister. Dad just looked, flashed me a sympathetic smile and shook his head.

I noticed that Sis was wearing high heels now too.

“Just a little moral support bro,” she said as if reading my mind. “If I can do it you can. Watch me and you can see better how it’s done.”

Nothing more was said about my shoes as we sat down as a family and ate our meal. I tried to observe any tricks that Christy might employ to help her get around, but she was too much an expert. I didn’t see her do anything special that I would be able to use. Walking in heels seemed second nature to her.

After supper, I carefully walked back to my room. I had to walk much slower than I was used to. Even then I stumbled and almost fell as I walked through my bedroom door, and one of the heels caught on the threshold. I had to remember to point my toes even more and make sure that the heels were out of the way of such things.

Finally it was bedtime. Time to take my shower and go to bed. Praise the Lord! I could take these things off my feet.

Sis must have heard the shoes hit the floor. By the time I had slipped the knee highs off, she was standing in the door.

“Aren’t we forgetting something, little bro?”

I grined. “You don’t expect me to wear those things to go shower.”

“No, but I expect you to wear these.” She held a pair of clear plastic “mules”, Ladies high-heeled, back less slippers, with white “fuzzy looking” toes.

I cursed under my breath and slipped them on my feet. A small elastic strap in the back slipped over my heel to hold them on.

“When we say you must wear heels ALL of the time we mean all of the time.” She said.

“Not in the shower too?” I asked sarcastically.

“No not IN the shower, but certainly to and from.”

I stayed an extra long time under the water savoring the freedom and getting the kinks out of my feet. My smooth, hairless body, though still gave me the creeps. I physically felt and looked too much like a girl.

I dried off, slipped my shorts and robe back on, and stepped into the mules. These things were even more shaky to walk in than the pumps there was less sideways support.

Sis was in the hall as I emerged from the bathroom. Obviously she was there to see if I was going to wear the mules back to my room. I was sorry to disappoint her. She didn’t say a word.

********************

Before I knew it, it was Five AM. Sis nearly dragged me out of bed. “Hurry and get dressed.” she said We have to be at Minnie’s at Six o’clock.

I got myself up looked at the mules and looked at her. Reluctantly I slipped them on for my trip to the bathroom where I did my business and brushed my teeth.

I had barely got my jeans on when Peggy showed up at my door. “Ready to go to town, Tim?” she asked with a smile.

“Almost let me just get my shoes. . . on----“ then I remembered. “Aw no! Don’t make me wear those high heels to Minnie’s”

She looked at them a second and said “Okay, you can wear your own shoes there this morning. You wouldn’t look right wearing them now anyway.----But the minute we get back I expect you to get back into them immediately.”

Sis was listening, so I didn’t have to explain anything to her when I left with them wearing my black Nikes.

After a twenty-minute ride, Sis parked the car and she and Peggy escorted me through the doors of “Minnie’s House of Beauty.” The shades were drawn, but the lights were on and “Miss Minnie”, a slightly plump, but still attractive forty five year old, who wore too much makeup, was waiting for us.

“Is this the boy?” Asked Minnie with a smile.

“Yep, that’s my little brother.” Sis replied.

Minnie ran her fingers through my hair then gently grasped my chin and looked at my face, turning my head from side to side.

“Yes, we can make you really pretty.” She said with a smile. “Shall we get started?”

“Remember our agreement, Miss Minnie. NO ONE outside of me and Peggy are to know about this.”

“You know you can trust me Christy. You were so good as to let my shop do your entire wedding party, it is the least I can do to return the favor. I’ll just charge you my regular rates for this.”

Minnie pulled some sort of loose smock over me, tied it in the back and directed me to sit down in what looked like a smaller stripped down version of a barber’s chair.

“Now I know that it is ten days before the wedding, “said Miss Minnie, “but we had you come in today, because we have a lot of work to do. We won’t have enough time when the other girls are here getting their hair styled.”

“Other girls?” I thought to myself and cringed.

“Now we are not going to style your hair today, just do the preliminaries. You need to HAVE some hair to begin with and we need to get it all colored and prepped properly so it will take a style when the day comes. Goodness knows we can’t style your hair and expect it to stay that way for ten days.”

She turned to Christy. “We will do him with you and the other girls on Friday. He will be ready by then wont he?”

“Sure! Friday it is.” Said Sis, but with a voice somewhat lacking in confidence.

I noticed that there were bundles of light brown hair lying on a small table next to the chair. It didn’t quite match my own, but then again they did mention something about coloring it.

“Now we only have four hours before I have to open the shop up to the public.” Said Minnie. “I’ll need you two girls to assist me so we can finish up on time.”

“Sure, Miss Minnie” my sister replied, ”What do you want us to do?”

Minnie grabbed my chin with one hand and looked at my face. After a few seconds, she picked up a brown pencil.

“Hold still.” She ordered and then proceeded to draw lines on my eyebrows.” I couldn’t see what was going on, because the chair wasn’t facing the wall mirror.

She called Sis over. “See these marks?” she said. “While I am working on his hair, I want you to pluck out any hairs not covered by the pencil lines. Can you do

that?”

“Sure Miss Minnie.’ Sis replied, “No problem.”

That being said Minnie now turned her full attention to me. First she washed my hair and quickly blow dried it. Then she started with the primary task at hand.

One by one she took thin locks of the hair that was laid out near by. Some of them were close to two feet long. Starting at the back of my neck I felt her braid them onto my own hair close to the scalp. Each time she finished one, she reached over and picked up a squeeze bottle and squirted some of the contents into the knot.

Noting that I appeared curious, she told me “I braid the locks a short bit into your hair and then glue them into place. They are a part of your own hair now and won’t pull out---not without taking your original hair with it.”

“You will be able to brush it, comb it, style it and do anything you want to it just like your own hair.” She added. “When we need to get it off, a hot dryer will soften the glue.”

As Minnie worked her way up the back of my head, she nodded to my Sister who then came over with a pair of tweezers and began to pull at my eyebrow hairs. It wasn’t too painful, but every now and then-- OUCH! One would really hurt. I didn’t think too much about what Sis was doing, I only figured that she was cleaning up the “shagginess” of my brows and making them a little neater.

Heck, I could live with the long hair. Perhaps I would look like a rock star. Sis soon finished with my eyebrows and that did not concern me too much. They needed a trim anyway.

Miss Minnie turned to Peggy. “And I would like YOU to help get his nails ready. Push back the cuticles, file them a bit and stroke each one a couple of times with this fine sandpaper. I need them to be ready when I finish here.”

“Of course Miss Minnie.” Said Peggy

Peggy joined in. She grabbed my left hand and pulled it over a small stand close to the chair. She used a stick to push back the cuticles and started to file my nails. I just lay back and relaxed and let the ladies work on me. It was still early in the morning and I could still use a bit of rest.

“I can put the nails on too if you like.” Said Peggy.

“No, you are paying for a professional job, so let me apply the nails and polish. You just get them ready.”

Nails? Polish? “Now wait one dang minute!” I protested as the implications of the last exchange of dialogue registered in my sleepy brain.

“Hey, the hair I can take, but you aren’t gonna do my fingernails too!”

“All the girls wear them” Sis retorted. “You must too!”

“But its days away. . . I don’t need them now.”

“You need to get used to them and it takes a lot of time to put them on. We are going to do it NOW while you are in here.”

I could tell that she meant it and it would be no use arguing with her. Peggy, meanwhile, didn’t miss a beat she kept on prepping my nails for the big event that would ensue as soon as Minnie finished my hair. “Perhaps I could wear gloves?” I thought. Yes, that was ONE way to deal with it. I lay back once again and let Minnie continue her work.

After what seemed like hours, heck it was hours, Minnie was finished with the extensions. She washed my hair once again and added the dye to it, so it would be all one shade. She called it “Ginger” what ever color THAT was—I couldn’t tell as the hair hung behind me and she was now rolling it up in large curlers.

She slipped me under one of the big dryers and turned it on. She sat next to me as I was waiting and matched up several white plastic fingernails to each finger of my left hand. She applied some glue like substance to the nail of my index finger and pressed on the plastic extension. It seemed to melt right onto the nail.

“How long are they” Sis asked her.

“Three quarters of an inch” Minnie replied. “Long enough to look really glamorous, but not too extreme.”

Minnie repeated the process to each nail in turn and moved on to my right hand. Finishing the extensions, she painted some more stuff on my nails to hide the seams. When that finally dried she followed up with a round of filing and buffing. When she finished, my nails looked like the real things.

When she pulled out the bottle of red nail polish though, I felt things were really getting serious. I WAS going to really start to look like a girl now. I cringed as she carefully drew the red color down my left pinky nail. Damn! It looked just like a woman’s finger now.

I closed my eyes. I could not bear to look, but could smell the scent of acetone and I could feel the cool sensation as one by one each nail received its coat of color.

She repeated the process three times and then thrust my hands into a small oven looking device with a blue light in it.

She removed the dryer and released my hair from the rollers. Most if it fell down my back, practically to my shoulder blades, and a couple of long locks fell across my shoulders where I could see them. I almost had a fit. Not that they were now colored a pretty, light reddish brown, but they were curled! At least the lower half of formed a mass of large, very feminine looking curls. So much for my rock star look. Even without seeing it in a mirror I could tell if I looked anything like a rock star it was a GIRL rock star.

Minnie gave the hair a quick brushing, combed down several strands across my forehead and cut them off straight just above my eyebrows. I now had bangs!

If that wasn’t shocking enough, I pulled my hands out of the nail dryer and was almost blown away. They didn’t even look like my own. They were exquisitely manicured woman’s hands. The polish was absolutely even and straight. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I feared that I was now on the path of no return.

But Minnie still was not finished with her diabolical magic. She spread a white cream across my face, and then wiped it off with a towel.

“Now remember Minnie” Sis interrupted “She’s got to look a few years older.”

“She?” I thought to myself.

Minnie next took a small bottle flesh colored stuff and spread it all over my face. She didn’t wipe THAT off. I could feel it begin to dry.

She took a brush and dusted over it with a similarly colored powder. I suddenly realized that she was making me up!

“OH God!” I groaned, helpless to do anything about it. Considering what I already must look like, I could only hope that the makeup would help hide my identity.

Next she brushed a brick red powder to my cheeks and then penciled my eyebrows. Both Peggy and Christy smiled in anticipation as they watched Minnie do her work.

Several colors of eye shadow powder were applied next and them came what Minnie called a “liquid liner”, a dark fluid that she used to outline the edges of my eyes. She pulled a little bit beyond the edge on each side to “give him an exotic look.”

“Oh, he looks so cute!” Peggy remarked.

Minnie came at me with a funny looking device that at first glance, looked like a pair of scissors, but it had a set of semicircular clamps on the end. I drew back. “It’s only an eyelash curler” she said as she clamped onto the lashes of my right eye and held them for several seconds. She repeated the procedure to the other eye, then took a small, funny round black brush and began to brush my eyelashes with it.

It was scary, I feared that she would poke me in the eye. As she worked with it, I noticed that my eyelashes seemed both stiffer and heavier. Gosh! I could even see them. She applied three coats, making my lashes longer and longer.

“Damn, I don’t see how girls can wear this stuff” I thought to myself as I reflexively batted my eyes and waited for Minnie to retrieve some other items from her makeup box.

Minnie walked over to the girls and consulted with them about something. I could see her point towards me and move her finger in little ‘M’ shaped motions as if describing a shape. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but it had something to do with how to further alter my appearance to make me less recognizable.---Fine with me! If anyone sees me like THIS I sure as hell HOPE they don’t recognize me.

Minnie returned and picked up another small bottle. It had a built in brush in the lid and has a dark red liquid on it. It looked like a fingernail polish, but the shape was somewhat different.

“Now be VERY still” she told me as she lay my head back on the head rest of the chair. “Relax your mouth”.

I felt her slowly and carefully paint around the rims of my lips. After a few adjustments, to get it just right, she had my stretch my lips over my teeth and went over the lines again.

“Now let it dry and set” she said as she took her time selecting another item.

It looked like a thick pen, but when she opened it and twisted on the bottom, it was obviously a lipstick. Thinner than normal. One of those fancy types. It was a deep, rich red. Perhaps not quite as dark as the liner.

Again I drew back again as she approached me with this most feminine and feminizing stick of cosmetic. She stretched her upper lip at me, indicating that I should do the same.

I must have responded without thinking, as she began to generously apply the color to my lips. Next she did the lower lip and had me relax my mouth while she dabbed here and there, just to make sure that everything was just right.

“Here, bite on this.”, she told me as she held a folded piece of tissue between my lips. I complied and she pealed off the tissue, now bearing a red “O” Just like I have seen my sister and mother do numerous times. But THIS time it was MY lip prints. The concept made me shutter.

Minnie had me rub my lips together than lick them. The lipstick had a thick perfumey smell that I could almost taste.

“Oh! Wonderful!” Christy said as she jumped up and down, hardly able to contain herself. Peggy seemed pleased too.

“It looks so good---now.” Said my sister, with a slight hint of concern to her voice “But how can we keep him looking like that. I’m not as good as you, Minnie, with makeup.”

“Oh, don’t worry Christy,” Minnie replied, “The eye and lip liners are the good indelible variety. There will always be enough traces of them left so you can just follow the lines each new application.”

“Turn him around Miss Minnie” Said Peggy. “Let him see him—--her self”

Minnie spun the chair around to face the mirror, or did she? To my surprise and horror there was a woman sitting across from me. She looked as surprised as I was.

“Ohmygod !” I turned to see my own reflection. “what did I look like? What did she see?” But Something was wrong.

“Where the devil?” I couldn’t find my reflection. Hmmm. There was Minnie standing behind the woman—But she was behind ME!

“Oh Lord!” I WAS looking in the mirror and directly at MYSELF. I didn’t recognize my clothes because the smock covered them. In the glass I could see a very startled, very pretty and classy looking eighteen year old, young woman starring at me.

I began to feel lightheaded. I thought I would faint. But I recovered quickly, got out of the chair and approached the mirror, touching it with my red taloned hand as I stared into the girl’s big blue eyes.

She was a sight to behold. Her wavy, thick red brown hair cascaded from her head and terminated in a fluff of curls just below her shoulders. Her slightly slanted eyes seemed to dominate her face but competed with her sensuous red lips for attention.

I thought it clever how Minnie was able to outline the upper lip a bit fuller than it really was, and exaggerate the cupids bow like that. There were even short lines extending slightly beyond the edges, slightly upturned making the upper lip look a bit wider and suggesting the hint of a smile.

I moved in closer. It felt really “creepy”. The “girl in the mirror” was intruding into my “zone of comfort.” It was like I was inches from her face. Ordinarily I would have been scarred half to death being this close to such a hot chick, but I could contain my fear. DAMN! After all, It was ME.

“Ok gorgeous, Lets get going” Said Sis as she broke the spell. “The shop is fixing to open.”

Maggie untied and removed the smock. A quick glance in the mirror shook me. It was like someone stuck a Barbie doll head onto my own body. The smock had camouflaged my body and clothing before, now I really looked like some kind of freak.

“Ill bring the car around” Said Sis as she ran out the door. “Wait for me.”

“Hey there’s people in the street” I told Peggy in nearly a blind panic! They’ll SEE me.

“Well pretty girls ARE supposed to be seen and appreciated” She replied with a grin.

“Well, I don’t look like a girl! Only parts of me do. Anyone who gets a good look at me will know I’m a boy!”

Peggy looked at me. “I suppose you’re right. But I think we can fix it.”

“Lots of girls wear jeans and a tee shirt, and some even wear sneakers just like you.” She said. “The only thing they have that you haven’t is boobs.

“Just a second,” said Peggy as she stepped behind a screen. She returned with a white bra in her hands, and her own breasts hanging a bit looser under her top.

“I know it doesn’t match your black tee, but beggars can’t be chooses.”

“OH NO!” I remarked as the implication was obvious.

“We will put this on you and stuff it with paper towels, no one will know the difference.”

“Aw, Peggy!. . .I can’t. . .”

“Hey it will make you look normal. You don’t want to be the center of attention out on the sidewalk, do you?”

Reluctantly I agreed to her plan. I couldn’t remove my Tee-shirt without messing up my hair and fresh makeup, so Peggy had to unbuckle the bra straps and pass them around my arms. She reattached them and stuffed the cups full. When I pulled my shirt down again, I looked as “well built” as Peggy herself.

I looked in the mirror again. I still didn’t like what I saw, but I could now pass for a female out on the street.

Sis pulled up in front of the shop, just as the first customer walked in. I rushed outside, with Peggy bouncing along behind me. We crossed the street and I wasted no time getting into the car. If anyone had taken notice of me, they didn’t make it known.

Sis did a double take at my chest and smiled. “OH, can’t wait to get started can we?” she quipped. “Be patient we will get you some real boobs in just a little while.”

I let the remark slip by. Now that I didn’t need it, my chest became an embarrassment. I leaned forward to minimize its appearance, but I soon got tired of doing that so I reached down my shirt and pulled the stuffing out of the bra.

I sat low in the back seat so no one would see me as we drove home. But we weren’t driving home. At Peggy’s direction, Sis took a left at Front Street instead of a right, which led us to a different part of town, near the theatre district.

“That’s the place.” Said Peggy as she pointed to a seedy looking little shop, with mannequins modeling skimpy lingerie and strange leather costumes in the windows. Sis parked the car near by and they climbed out. Sis looked back at me to see if I would follow.

“No thanks, I’ll sit right here. “I told her. “Besides, in this neighborhood it would be a good idea for someone to stay behind and watch the car.”

“Nonsense, this part of town is perfectly safe.” Sis turned to Peggy “Isn’t it?”

“Besides they need to see you inside.”

“I can’t let people see me looking like this.”

“Sure you can. They see people that look like you every day. It’s their business.”

“But. . . but. . .”

“They don’t know you from Adam. . . or Eve. Sis replied. “It’s all confidential.”

“ And stick that stuffing back in your front, at least until we get inside.” She added.

Reluctantly I complied, but there was no one on the street here anyway, so I didn’t feel the need to run in to hiding as quickly as when I left the beauty salon.

Ringgg! A bell tinkled as we walked through the front door. A friendly, but “creepy looking” woman in Goth makeup greeted us. She was accompanied by a funny little man, whom by his mannerisms, suggested that he had a certain commonality with a federal reserve note-- of a three-dollar denomination. But hey, I was cool with that.

The lady looked at Sis and me. “Which one of you is Miss Morris?” she asked. She had to be kidding---or was she?

“I am Christy Morris.” My sister replied.

The Lady looked at me.

“So you must be. . . Well, You certainly will be an easy one to work with.”

I still didn’t know what was going on. The woman pulled out a tape measure and measured me around the chest, just under the bra cups.

“So you said he has to be a thirty eight C?” the woman asked Sis.

“Yes, so the gown will fit him.”

“Well, we won’t have any problem doing that.”

“Doing what?”, I thought. Whatever it was didn’t sound good.

“Come with us,” said the lady as she instructed me to follow her and the man into a room behind the counter. Sis and Peggy tagged along in the distance.

She seated me on a leather-covered couch and motioned for me to remove my shirt. Then she saw that I would not be able to remove it without messing up my hair and make up. “Just a minute” she said as she stopped me.

She produced a pair of scissors and cut my good METALICA tee shirt from the waist to the collar and removed it that way.

“Don’t fret kid, well give you another blouse.” She said in the way of reassurance.

She removed the bra along with its paper tissue padding. “You won’t be needing this stuff anymore.”

For some reason that statement didn’t comfort me.

She held several small cards that looked like paint chip samples to my chest and found on that matched my skin tone.

“Charles,” The woman addressed her assistant, please see if we have a pair of 38 C model fifteens in color eight.”

The little man walked over to a rack of shelves and looked at the labels on some boxes. He picked one of the boxes up, checked its contents and brought it to the woman.

“The only ones we had in that color.” He said. The woman looked satisfied.

“Lie down”, the woman instructed me.

I lay carefully down on the couch so as not to mess up my hair. The woman reached into the box and removed a quivering flesh colored blob and pressed it on top of my right breast. It looked just like a real woman’s breast, even down to the pinkish-brown colored nipple. I just knew that she was going to somehow fasten it to me.

To my relief, it didn’t look all THAT massive, though. “I might be able to hide it with some really baggy clothing” I reassured myself.

AS she held it on me she took a pencil and marked my skin so she could get the position of it right.

She repeated the process on the other side and then applied some gooey stuff to my chest and to the backs or the fake boobs.

She waited a few seconds and pressed the breasts back on to my chest, using the marks she had drawn earlier to place them properly.

She had me hold both of the soft hemispheres and keep them pressed to my chest for several seconds.

“Ok, that should do it.” She said. “Now sit up.”

I released the breasts and gravity pulled them down, but only so far. They were firmly attached to my own skin. To my dismay they looked considerably bigger when I was sitting up as they also incorporated quite a bit of the fat and loose skin on my own chest as part of their form. My boobs were as big as Peggy’s, I know, as I had been wearing her bra. And they looked and felt just like the real thing. The color match to my own skin was near perfect. I could see a slight seam, but that soon vanished as the lady covered it with some kind of matching makeup.

Sis and Peggy watched wide-eyed as the lady finished her work. Soon the makeup had dried and it seemed as stubborn as paint. It wasn’t going to rub off. The effect was incredible. It looked as if I really had boobs.

Not only did they look real they felt real, and worst of all, as I quickly found out, moved like real too. They seemed like they had minds of their own, swaying, bobbing and jiggling at my slightest movement.

“Oh gosh!” I exclaimed as I cupped both of them in my hands to keep them from shaking around. Peggy seemed amused.

“Now you see what you put me through” she said with a smile. “That reminds me, give me my bra back.” The lady handed Peggy her bra that she had taken off of me.

To my shock and horror, and my sister’s too, Peggy removed her top in front of all of us. She shook her tits loose and quickly scooped them up in her bra. My initial impression had been right. My own tits DID look real.

“Well, its not like we have something he hasn’t got up here. Not now.” Peggy commented, seeing the look on my sisters face.

Peggy hooked up her bra, and slipped her top back on. “That’s much better” she said.

I stood there naked from the waist up, still securing my boobs with my hands. “What am I going to wear?” I sheepishly asked. My tee-shirt had been destroyed.

“We have something for you that you can have.” Said the lady. “You have been such good customers, it will be on the house.”

“Nothing crazy is it?” asked Sis, looking askance at the strange costumes many of the mannequins were wearing.

“Heavens no” the lady replied and handed me a piece of yellow fabric.

“What is this?” I wondered aloud as I held it up in both hands and tried to figure it out.

“Here’ said the lady as she took it from me and pulled it over my head. It looked like some kind of knit sweater that fit closely around my waist and stomach and reached to just below my new breasts. Two triangular flaps, with a thin string on top hung down, just beneath them.

The lady grasped the strings and pulled up, pulling the triangular areas over the breasts, cradling them like a bra. She tied the strings together around the back of my neck. It was some sort of a halter-top outfit.

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor as I looked down. My back and shoulders remained bare. The “cups” while holding my boobs in place, now held them higher and pressed them together, giving me one hell of a cleavage. Even worse, I could see the outline of the nipples pressing against the fabric.

“Good lord!” I gasped. “I can’t go out in public looking like this!”

“Sure you can.” Said the lady. “A lot of girls wear a lot less than that.”

“Do something Sis!” I pleaded. “Look at me! I look like a. . . a streetwalker!”

To make things worse, my tits STILL jiggled noticeably as I moved. There was a real danger one might pop out.

Sis and Peggy looked at each other with a touch of sympathy in their eyes.

“Okay” said Peggy, “We can trade tops.”

Once again Peggy pulled off her sleeveless black sweater. “Well, start taking that thing off” she said to me as she reached back to unhook her bra.

I reached behind my neck to try to untie the strings, but between the tightness of the knot and my long fingernails impeding my dexterity, I made little progress.

Thankfully the lady undid the ties, and I was able to slip off my top and hand it over to Peggy in exchange for her bra.

The lady once again helped me. Instructing me to bend over a bit to let my boobs fall into the cups, and then hooking the garment into place. The straps had to be adjusted slightly, as Peggy and me were not built entirely alike, but it was a good fit. And my boobs stayed in place.

Over this went Peggy’s sweater. The wide neck made it easy to slip over my head. Looking down on myself, I looked like Peggy herself now, from what I could see any way. Peggy, meanwhile had put on the halter thing I had been wearing and was tying the strings behind her neck. Gosh, she looked just like I did wearing that thing, but she was a lot more confident.

We walked out of the shop and back to the car. I tried to hide my new assets by stooping over, but no luck, If anything they looked even bigger. There would be no hiding these babies. I supposed that I must have looked sort of normal—even if I looked like a girl. Fortunately the few people on the street were looking at Peggy not at me.

The drive home was uneventful. I got used to the new sensations as, despite the bra, my boobs bounced every time we took a bump, and I could feel it in the bra straps as they took the weight.

Dad was in his chair the living room, reading a paper as we came through the front door.

“We’re Home!” Sis announced as we proceeded to the hall.

“Hi. Christy.” Said Dad as we passed by, he barely glanced at us. “Where’s Tim? Mother said that you and you friend had taken him to town. Oh! Sorry”, he said when he saw me. “I don’t think we have met.”

“Yes we have.” I replied

It took a second to realize---perhaps the voice.

“Tim?. . . My God son, what did they do to you?”

Then he began to laugh.

I didn’t know how to react. I stood there not knowing whether to be embarrassed or to join in. Sis gave me a poke.

“Come along, bro. We still have work to do.” She said as she guided me down the hall to my bedroom.

Before I could say anything, Sis picked up the red high-heeled pumps I was wearing yesterday from the floor where I had left them. The implication was obvious. I sighed and dutifully, I untied my sneakers and removed my socks.

“From now on there will be no more reprieves”, Said Sis as she handed me the knee-highs and the shoes. “From now on, until the wedding, every waking hour, you will wear nothing less than a four inch heel anywhere you go. You have to know how to properly walk in them and have only nine days to make you an expert.”

Resigned to my fate, I sat in the chair by my dresser, with my legs sprawled apart, attempting to slip on the knee high nylons without tearing them to shreds with my long red nails.

“We can’t have that!” said Peggy. She was upset about something. I gave her a puzzled look.

“Girls don’t sit like that. Put your knees together or cross your legs.” She demanded. “Better yet, remove those pants. We will have to do it anyway.”

“You will have to start wearing skirts. That will get you in the proper habits really quick.”

I slipped off my genes, fortunately my briefs preserved my modesty. Sis returned to the room holding a strange white garment in her hands. It looked like a small girdle but with leg holes, like larger woman’s panties. The hips and butt were obviously well filled out with built in padding.

“Here, bro, “said Sis. “These are my old padded panty briefs that I wore before I got my shape. You need to wear them so your skirt will hang right.”

“Slip off your briefs and put them on or we will do it for you. You have thirty seconds”

With that the girls left the room and closed the door. I stared at the garment for several seconds, then decided that the clock was ticking. I kicked off my briefs and quickly slid the thing on. Not a moment too soon as I was still trying to get them straight when the door opened once more.

Sis and Peggy seemed pleased. Even without the mirror, I could tell that now my bottom half was consistent with my top half. My waist had been thin anyway, now I had the entire shape of a girl.

Peggy rolled some tan panty hose up my hairless legs. I hadn’t realized how attractive they were before. They looked just like woman’s legs. Sis had a red miniskirt that she had me step into and then zipped it up around my waist. It hugged my new curves very tightly and helped hold my legs together too, but it only came down to the middle of my thighs. The high heels completed the look. My legs were even shapelier than before.

WOW! I started to feel my dick get hard. Not that I liked looking like a girl, but I liked looking AT the girl that I had become. Fortunately, the lycra panty fit quite tight and hid my reaction from the girls.

I found my footing on the heels once more and teetered back to my chair. This time I did not have to be told what to do with my legs. Not only did the fabric of the skirt pushing them together remind me, I realized that I would be terribly EXPOSED, for all the world to see if I didn’t make a conscious effort to keep them together.

Crossing them at the thighs seemed to be the best expedient, as it kept them in place more easily. But I had to watch how I crossed them keeping my thighs pressed together and sliding one leg atop the other, so I wouldn’t expose my crotch while swinging my legs around.

So here I was, entirely decked out as a female with over a week until the big event. I had to admit that I looked as good as Sis or Peggy and looked just as real.

I stayed in my room the rest of the afternoon, watching television or messing with my computer. Damn, it was hard trying to type with those fingernails.

All too soon Mom called us to supper. Reluctantly, and carefully, I stumbled down the steps and took my place at the table. Both Mom and Dad stared at me, but said nothing. I wasn’t in a mood to talk and they could sense it. Soon they began talking again like everything was normal. They made no mention as to my appearance or what I had done that day. I suppose that they had yet to get used to having what appeared to be another daughter in the house. They also were feeling me out, not wanting to piss me off. Being afraid that I might bail out on them. After the meal I went directly back to my room.

About an hour after supper Christy called me to her room once again. After all that had happened that day I ordinarily would have felt a bit wary---but Hey! Look at me! She couldn’t make me any more “girly” than I was now. Boy was I wrong.

I shakily, “clomp-clomped” over to her room in the high heels and sat on her bed. She was pleased that I remembered to cross my legs. “Wacha’ want, sis?” I asked.

“It’s time to get you ready for bed.” She replied.

“It’s a bit early isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to go to bed now.” She replied, “But we need to get you into a nightie, fix your hair and stuff like that. I just wanted to get an early start on you this evening. I’ve got lots of stuff to do myself.”

She was searching for something in her dresser drawers. “Here, take off all your clothes, and I mean everything, and put these on.” She threw a couple of items on the bed.

She checked her watch, walked out the door and began to close it. “You have three minutes!” she said before the latch snapped shut.

Well, I didn’t waste any time. I was glad to finally be able to take these girl clothes off. She was crazy for making me wear them in the first place. I think she just wanted to humiliate me. I slipped off the skirt and unbuckled the shoes. I still hadn’t quite got the hang of the long fingernails so it was quite difficult to manipulate the small buckles. I had lost several seconds.

I carefully slipped off the panty hose, pulled off the sweater top and stepped out of the panties. I kept the bra on for the moment, To keep from jiggling around as I examined what Sis threw on the bed.

“You gotta be kidding!” I said loud enough for Christy to hear me outside the door.

“You got one minute kid!” she replied. “Either you put that stuff on or I will do it for you when I come in.”

This was ridiculous! One of the items was what looked like a pair of panties, but they seemed to be covered entirely with pink satin ruffles. The other item was a piece of shinny pink cloth, only about a couple of feet long, with two “stringy” straps and some elastic strips inside.

I looked at the door. Sis was outside, so I at least decided that I needed to cover my nakedness. Reluctantly I slipped on the ruffled panties. It took me a few seconds to figure out the other garment. What was the front and what was the back and how it went on.

I finally removed the bra and slipped the garment over my head. It was like a VERY short skirt. It barely covered my ruffled butt. A band of elastic encircled, my chest just below my breasts, and another just above where the garment ended in a rim of small ruffles that encircled me just under my armpits. From the tops of my breasts up I was bare, save for the shoulder straps.

“What kind of crazy thing---?” I began to wonder as I adjusted its position a bit. When I saw myself in the mirror on the door, I was shocked, more so than by any of the previous events of that day. I was wearing a “baby doll” nightie! And even worse, I looked absolutely terrific in it. My smooth, hairless arms and shoulders looked just as feminine as my face and hands. My boobs pushed against the pleats in the elasticized upper section, leaving smooth, rounded areas with the impression of the nipples on either side.

My legs, exposed all the way to the top of the thighs and emerging from beneath the folds of pink satin, were astounding! I reminded myself of one of those girls that I had seen on the old “Three’s Company” re-runs.

I was still staring when Sis opened the door. The expression on her face reflected that she was both surprised and pleased at my appearance. She directed me to sit at her vanity table. You can bet that I tightly pressed my legs together.---The miniskirt was bad enough, now my entire lap was exposed. I started to get an erection---I mean, from my point of view, I was looking down at the near naked body of one very hot chick.---Even if she was me.

I was frightened that my Sister would see. That fear gave me just the edge I needed to bring it somewhat under control. The ruffles hid my bulge anyway. Still I kept my thighs pressed together, even if it did make me look a bit more feminine.

Sis handed me a jar of some white cream. “Here, put this on so we can get off that makeup.” She said.

I was only happy to oblige. After applying a thick coat of the cream, I scrubbed my face with some paper towels. Sure, the make-up came off, but not all of it. The dark liner around my eyes and around my lips was still quite visible. My lips were no longer deep red, but still a dark pink. I started to work on them some more, but Sis stopped me.

“That’s enough.” She said. “Minnie said that the eye and lip liner had to wear off, no sense in wasting your time and rubbing your face raw.”

“But I still look like I’m wearing makeup.” I protested.

“That’s as clean as its gonna get and its clean enough.” Sis replied. Then she smiled. “Besides, you still want to look pretty the rest of the evening, bed isn’t for a couple of hours yet.”

She handed me a brush and told me to start brushing my hair. “We paid a lot for that, so you need to maintain it.” She made me brush it two hundred strokes.

By then my arm was quite tired, but my hair felt quite fluffy and “airy”. Sis walked over to me with a comb and a little elastic band called a “scrunchie”. She pulled back my hair all around and gathered it on top of my head, securing it into a ponytail with the scrunchie.

Now I looked even more feminine, if that were possible. The ponytail also trended to fall into my face, forcing me to flip it back. “What’s this about Sis?” I angrily snapped. Thinking that she had done it just to irritate me.

“Leave it alone, Bro,” she said. “I did that to keep it out of the way when you sleep. Like I said it’s expensive, and you need to take care of it as best you can for over a week.”

Before I got up from the vanity, Sis slipped a pair of high-heeled slippers, with pink furry toes, on my feet.

“You didn’t think that you would get out of wearing heels, did you?” she quipped.

“I can’t walk around looking like this.” I said looking at my reflection in the mirror. “I’m practically naked!”

To my surprise, Sis took some pity on me and tossed me a bathrobe. It was a white satin number with ruffled edges and half sleeves, but at least it covered my bare shoulders and upper arms. The front wouldn’t close though, so my lovely long legs were exposed when I walked or sat down, but it was sure better, in my estimation, than what I had on underneath.

I started to head for my room when Sis suddenly yelled “Mom! Dad! Come look at Tim!” I was torn between immediately strangling my loudmouth sibling or curling up into a ball and dying of embarrassment. I nearly ran right into Mom as I made a bee-line towards my room. Dad was close behind. Mom smiled. As I stood before her in all my satin feminine glory.
“That’s very nice dear.” Was all she said.
Dad was grinning. “Wow! You look just like a Movie star!” He said. “It’s a good thing you were born a boy or your sister would have some tough competition.”
He looked at Sis. “You might have had to be the bride’s maid Christy.” She was not pleased by his remark. It made me feel at least a little bit better.
Leaving the three of them alone in the hall, I glided back into my room and closed the door.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

since 8/26/2002