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  1. (Woman to Pig) A TF Zoo Story The Tampa Fe Zoo is having a promotion! To participate, simply pick which exhibit you want to have a more up-close-and-personal-visit to, and you’ll find yourself swimming with the dolphins and soaring with the eagles in no time at all! All you have to do in order to see the Tampa Fe Zoo through a fresh pair of eyes is call the toll-free number below*! 1-800-639-2639 *The City of Tampa Fe is not liable for any instance of participants losing their mentality or having potentially unwanted modifications befall their body, both of which have been known to occur during the ‘quiz' section of the Tampa Fe Zoo’s promotion. We thank you for your compliance. ><—><—><—><—> • <—><—><—><—>< Hannah sat in the Administration Office of the Tampa Fe Zoo anxiously checking her phone. Although initially excited about the promotion she’d seen in Cosmos earlier that day, see had been immediately put off upon arriving by how she was apparently their first “willing” participant. What they'd meant by that wasn’t clear, but she didn’t love the sound of it. She only had to spend a few minutes waiting, however, as Hannah soon found herself being led her through a side corridor and into back room by an employee. Once it came time for payment, she thought it odd why they only took cash when it was such a large sum of money. She still handed over the cash she’d been to bring, determined not to let skepticism ruin a good time. The worker turned on the room's overhead lights to show a large, curved monitor in the middle of an otherwise empty storage area as a slam of a door told her that she was now alone. Hannah was surprised that no actual human would be present in the room for her registration but wasn’t bothered by it. Hannah much prefered telling personal details to a computer than to an actual person. Her her heels clicked upon the stone floor as Hannah stepped toward the room's center monitor, under which lay a control panel with touch controls and an on-screen keyboard. While the setup was unusually hi-tech for such a banal use, she only saw it as a welcome convenience. Hannah tapped the flashing 'START' button below her to begin the process. After entering her name, age, and measurements, she saw it asked for a short blurb of who she was. “I’m a model on Instagram," Hannah typed. “My entire life, people have told me how hot I am, and so I made a career out of it!” She moved on to the next query. It needed two things from Hannah: where in the Tampa Fe Zoo she'd want to travel, and what her purpose in having an intimate visit there would be. She had easy answers to both. Hannah flexed her fingers before entering in, “I heard the Petting Zoo has pigs. People love baby animals, so I thought piglets would make for a great photo op! I want people to see me caring for tiny piggies like a mother would. My Instagram crowd would eat it up!” Even though hated the idea of being that close to such dirty animals, she knew that keeping up a positive image on social media was completely worth putting up with the smell of pigs for a while. Satisfied with her answers, Hannah pressed the ‘NEXT’ button and heard the computer internally whirr and hum in response. It finished whatever computation it'd been making and displayed a text box on the monitor, reading: "Hello, Hannah! Our goal is to offer a life-changing experience that fully immerses you in our habitats. To accomplish this, your inputs have been processed into a quiz that prepares you to go face-to-face with the inhabitants of the Petting Zoo!” She rolled her eyes. Unless this 'preparation' involved her putting in nose plugs, Hannah didn't how a quiz could make her actually enjoy that environment. There undoubtedly existed some people who could have more fun at a Zoo by knowing animal facts, so she understood why the quiz was in place. That didn't mean she thought it could help her, though. QUESTION 1: WHAT ANIMAL IS PICTURED HERE? The first question seemed ridiculously easy. The picture was simply of a mother hog with piglets suckling from its breasts. As she tried to hold in her disgust at such a bloated swine, Hannah keyed in "Pig" in order to just move on. Curiously, there was no indication of whether her answer was correct or not. It didn't matter to her, though; Hannah didn't want to spend forever on the questions. She was too busy reading the next question to feel a corkscrew-like tail pressing against the inside of her panties. QUESTION 2: WHAT NOISE DO PIGS COMMONLY MAKE? Another easy question. Hannah confidently typed "grunts" in the text field and hit 'enter', pleased with how quickly she was completing the quiz. The thought of how soon she'd be able to be with the baby piglets caused caused a grrrooink to escape from her lips, its abruptness catching Hannah off guard. Did she just... oink? Hannah disregarded the notion as utterly ridiculous and had to reaffirm to herself that the piglets were to be props in a photo: nothing more. For a moment, however, the thought floated through her mind that it'd be wrong to leave such helpless creatures by themselves. It was during this pensive contemplation that Hannah failed to notice the gradual shrinkage of her hair, her brunette locks only 3/4 as long as they once were. Eventually, she managed to push the moral dilemma out of her mind and could focus on the third question. QUESTION 3: WHAT IS A PIG'S ICONIC NOSE LOCATED AT THE END OF? She chuckled at how easy the question was, her laughter containing more snorting than it normally did. Tapping the touch-screen with cocky pecks of her finger, Hannah submitted "snout" as her answer. For whatever — due perhaps to a too-foggied brain — Hannah wasn't cognizant of her nose and mouth pushing out of her face, creating a cylindrical snout with two large, porcine nostrils at the end. This all strengthened her sense of smell to the point where Hannah was forced to scrunch up her face at the scents drifting out of nearby restroom. Soon enough, the sound of water flowing through pipes underground filled the air, the position of Hannah's now stronger ears having shifted to the top of her head. Hannah's eyes also grew further apart, no longer pointing straight forward like a predator. Instead, each one lay on one side of her broad muzzle and pointed her pupils slightly waywardly, giving her a rather dumb and vapid expression. As her hair shrank to nearly a quarter of its original length, Hannah began on the next part of the quiz. QUESTION 4: PIGS CLEAN THEIR SKIN BY WALLOWING IN WHAT SUBSTANCE? Hannah blinked. Was the quiz really saying that pigs wallow in mud to keep clean? That must be why they were always so filthy! Upon entering in "mud" for her guess, every inch of Hannah's skin flared with sensation. Her once pale complexion turned a faded pink as tiny hairs sprouted all over her body, causing bouts of itchiness to erupt underneath her clothing. Too uncomfortable in her outfit to worry about being indecent, Hannah urgently stripped naked. The feeling of comfort that instantly engulfed her made her begin panting in relief, a broadened tongue lolling lopsidedly out of her snout. The skin of Hannah's neck thickened and rendered imperceptible a separation between her torso and head, which now had had no hair but the patchy coat of white, almost transparent stubble that covered the rest of his skin as well. Mud. The word had stuck in Hannah's mind. The thought of feeling its coldness drip down her back on a hot day grew so prominent in her mind that it could quell any internal protests of it being gross. Hannah recognized who she found the concept of mud disgusting minutes earlier, but that was before she understood why pigs wallowed in it! More imagery of how refreshing mud would feel slathered on her flaky skin stormed her mind. As the earthy scent of a mudhole almost seemed to waft into her nostrils, Hannah was finally able to put her attention back onto the computer in front of her. QUESTION 5: WHAT TYPE OF FOOT DO PIGS POSSESS? She kept her mudlust under control in order to better concentrate on the question, which was yet again an easy one to answer: "trotter". Hannah forgot in which High School class she would've learned that fact, but she was grateful to know it nonetheless. A shooting pain in her hands made Hannah collapse to the ground in agony. The nails on her fingers and toes elongated and thickened. Both of her hands restructured themselves to work as feet in service a quadrupeic gait. The sensation of one digit on each extremity merging with another one elicited a squeal from Hannah. Finally, after what felt like an endless series of tugs and pulls in her limbs, she was able to stand. Hannah knew for absolute certain that she was supposed to be standing on two legs, not four — she knew that! But something felt so natural about standing on her trotters that, despite the voice inside her head saying not to, Hannah accepted her new piggy hooves and was just glad that the Zoo had thought to make the height of the control panel adjustable. QUESTION 6: WHAT IS THE CONSUMPTION CLASSIFICATION OF PIGS? Yet another no-brainer! Using her porcine nose to tap the screen, she had to expend no effort thinking up the answer: "omnivore". Hannah's jaws tingled as 12 new teeth grew in, bringing the total number in her mouth up to 44. Ger brain seemed to pulse with neural activity as she began to be rewired as having a pig's diet. Thick saliva seeped from Hannah's mouth, her mind becoming consumed with images of all kinds of food she never thought appetizing: roots; flowers; tree bark; worms; even garbage. Before moving on with the quiz, Hannah laid eyes on the viscous puddle of drool by her feet. She needed to taste something — anything, or else she'd go insane! She licked the floor to lap up the liquid, and the taste of her slobber overwhelmed her. Unbeknownst to her, Hannah had grown thousands more taste buds on her tongue, which, coupled with the sharpness of her smell and an omnivorous diet, made eating the most euphoric feeling in the world. Absentmindedly smacking her lips, Hannah summoned enough concentration to answer the next quiz question. QUESTION 7: WHAT CAUSES THE TEATS OF A SOW TO FILL WITH MILK? Some part of her was still fighting. A tiny corner of her brain that recognized the ramifications of continuing and pleaded that she just flee. But because she was so far gone already, Hannah ultimately keyed in her answer: "childbirth". Her body bloated past 200, 300, and even 400 pounds until Hannah's 500-pound mass made standing an arduous effort. A husky moan flew from her lips upon feeling the weight of 14 teats dangle from her chest, each bulging with milk. The stimulation Hannah got from the liquid sloshing around inside her mammaries at the slightest movement made her breath quicken with pleasure. There was no part of Hannah's body that was human anymore. Hannah's lazy gaze drifted back on to the monitor upon the display beginning to flash with the message: "You're almost done! But before you begin your new life in the Petting Zoo, our algorithm has assigned you both a new name and a special trait that will help you better adjust to Zoo life. We hope you enjoy seeing the Tampa Fe Zoo from an all-new, fresh perspective as you take on the role of Mabel, the most loving mother sow in the Petting Zoo!" That was the word Mabel was missing all this time: 'mother'. Mabel was a mother, and the size of her teats came as reminder that she'd borne a farrow of twelve not three days prior. Mabel was a sow, and her groin quivered at the thought of a boar's musky scent. But most importantly, Mabel was a pig. Her head spun with a flurry of information until feeling too dizzy to keep her eyes open, and opening them moments later, Mabel realized her surroundings had changed. Instead of standing on cold, stone flooring, Mabel was lying on her side, cushioned by the straw spread across the muddy ground of a shed. She was in the Petting Zoo! But, then, of course she was here — it was her home, wasn't it? Mabel looked around and felt a sense of security; it all seemed right. She basked in the sunlight coming from a window of her shed until movement from the door frame caught her attention and brought her indescribable joy. It was her piglets: all twelve of them. And they were hungry. Mabel's teats began to preemptively lactate until each member of the litter could could choose a nipple to suckle on. Mabel let out loving grunts in total and utter bliss. While she cared for her little piggies, Mabel peered at all the zoogoers looking on from the outside area and sighed in satisfaction at her request having been granted.
  2. Anonymous

    Home Invation (AP, TG, MC)

    I thought this one was posted here but I guess not. Comments welcomed as usual. --------------------------------------- Evelyn heard a noise. She wasn’t sure, but it sounded like someone else was in her house. It was a house she had lived in for more than fifty years. The house she originally moved in with her husband after the war. The house she raised three children in. The house she had long since lived in alone since the passing of her husband more than twelve years ago. Her children insisted she move out of her home and into a nursing home where they could take better care of her, but she was insistent that she didn’t want to leave her home. Her health wasn’t good, well actually it was good for her age, but she is eighty-seven-years-old and at that age, everyone has some ails. Evelyn opened her bedroom door a crack to see what was making the noise. She could see down the hall into the living room that there was a young man in her house. He was looking over her things trying to decide what was worth stealing. Evelyn pushed the emergency button that she wore around her neck to summon help. “This is Stacy from Emergency Alert, how can I help you, Mrs. Collins?” This message was blasted through speakers in every room of the house. It startled the intruder. He momentarily froze in his tracks and then bolted for the door. “There is someone in my house, help me!” “OK, we see him now on the closed camera. We’ll freeze him.” By this time, the intruder was at the door of the house and was about to turn the knob and get out of there. But even though he was at the door, he found himself frozen. He had his hand on the door handle. He wanted to turn the knob and get out of there, but he couldn’t move a muscle. He was stuck. Fear gripped him. “I have him contained at the door. Do you want us to notify the police?” “No, since he is frozen, I’ll be able to take it from here.” Said Evelyn. “OK, Mrs. Collins. Glad that we could be of service. Thank you for using Emergency Alert, if you need any further assistance simply press the button on your pendant.” Evelyn slowly walked down the hall into the livingroom and then across the room to confront the intruder. There she saw him by the front door. He was struggling to move. You could see the tension in his face. But he couldn’t move a muscle. He was like a fly in an invisible spider web, trapped, struggling, but hopelessly caught. Evelyn saw the intruder. He was young, no more than eighteen-years-old. Not too tall, about five foot eight inches tall with brown hair and an average build for a boy his age. “So you wanted my things?” Evelyn said. “I don’t know why you want them. They aren’t worth too much. Well, not a lot as compared with the things that really matter. Come over here, let me take a look at you.” The intruder released the door handle and turned around and walked up to Evelyn. He stood before her. He was scared out of his wits. He would be trembling if he could move, but once again he was frozen. “What’s your name young man?” Evelyn inquired. “Jason Thompson.” Jason said in a somewhat forced and mechanical manner. “Well Jason, I do have lots of nice things here. There is the plasma TV on the wall. My daughter got it for me. There are also several painting which I hear are worth a lot of money, although when my husband and I bought them years ago weren’t worth too much. I also have a lifetime of gold and silver jewelry which are now worth a small fortune. But I haven’t worn them in ages, nor the silver flatware, which I don’t use anymore. But these are just things and really aren’t worth much. You have things that are much more valuable. So I won’t give you my things, but I’ll trade you for them.” “Trade me?” Jason said incredulously. “First, let’s trade identities. That way you can have all my things . . . There it’s done.” Jason didn’t feel any different. “What is done?” “From now on, everyone will think you are me, my name is er was Evelyn Collins. Now it’s your name and I am Jason Thompson.” “You’re nuts lady!” “There is a mirror over there you can go and look at yourself.” Jason found he could move. His first instinct was to bolt again and try and get out of the house, but he found he could only walk to the offered mirror. When he looked into the mirror, the reflection he saw wasn’t of himself, but of Evelyn. He looked down at his hands and arms and he didn’t see anything different, but when he compared it with his reflection it was quite different. He moved his arms and hands up and down and the reflection in the mirror mimicked all of his movements. Except it was Evelyn’s small and wrinkled hands and arms moving although the reflection did show Evelyn’s reflection was wearing the same clothes as he wore when all this started. Jason was speechless. “There we go, now everyone will see that you are Evelyn and so you own all of Evelyn’s things and I own yours. But that doesn’t seem to be a fair trade since I have so much more than you. But I know what. Let’s trade some things that really matter. First, I’ll trade my osteoporosis for your strong bones.” Jason watched in the mirror as his shoulders and his whole back began to slump. Evelyn on the other hand straightened up for the first time in twenty-five years. “Next, you can have my arthritis, that way you can use my walker which you received in our trade. I don’t use it while walking around the house, but whenever I go outside it’s a great comfort.” Jason felt his joints start to ache and his fingers and toes became deformed in both his real life as well as his reflection. Evelyn started to wiggle her fingers for the first time without pain in many years. “As they say on that commercial . . . ’Can you hear me now?’” Evelyn said. Jason could still hear her but she sounded different. Her voice was more tinny than it was before as her hearing aids filled his ears. A moment later, his contacts were replaced with her glasses as their eye glass prescriptions swapped. Actually with her glasses he could see as well as he did before, but he couldn’t wear contacts anymore anyway. With his arthritis he could never get them into his eyes anymore. Next his teeth were replaced with her full dentures. He could taste the glue that was holding them in his mouth. “Take off your clothes.” Jason helplessly did as requested. He took off his T-shirt, jeans, briefs, shoes and socks. With his arthritis it took much longer than it had before. When he was completely naked, they exchanged weights. He blew up and forty pounds of flab was added to his frame. Evelyn quickly took off her clothes and put on his. It really didn’t fit perfectly but no one would notice. “You can put on my clothes now.” Evelyn handed Jason her clothes. Jason put them on. He started with the white full cut women’s briefs. Despite the embarrassment of having to put on women’s panties, he found them to be quite comfortable. Then he put on the 18-hour comfort strap bra. It was a front closure model, which was the only way with his arthritis that he could put on any bra. This was actually the most uncomfortable of all the clothes he would put on, but even though it didn’t fit perfectly, it did support his new man boobs to some extent. Next he put on her floral house dress and the fuzzy house slippers. Jason would find out that all his new clothes were all designed for comfort and were all easy to put on. There weren’t any buttons or zippers on any of his clothes. All his shoes were slip ons. All of his pants were pastel colors and none of them had any pockets or zippers. Actually, he now owned very few pants, most of his clothes were mostly formless dresses that could be easily slipped over his head and went down to just below his knees. While Jason was putting on his bra, Evelyn remarked. “I always wear a bra, even while sleeping.” “People would think I was sick if I didn’t have your youthful stamina” Jason felt exhaustion overtake him as the stresses of the day caught up with his weaken body. “Now, Jason, you cannot let anyone know you are not Evelyn Collins. You can’t let anyone have the slightest hint you are not who they think you are. I have made it easier for you by giving you my ailments. People would notice if you stood up too straight or didn’t need your hearing aid anymore. But you mustn’t let anyone even suspect that you aren’t Evelyn. If anyone does then I assure you will be put into a nursing home for the rest of your life, where they will try to help you. They will use both therapy and drugs to convince you that you are indeed Evelyn Collins. You will lose all freedom of not only movement but of thought. In the end, they will win and Jason will be gone from your mind. All that will be left is an empty shell whose name will be Evelyn. She’ll live out the rest of her very regimented life under the strict schedule of the nursing home. Whose only concern will be to make her caretakers happy by doing everything they tell her to do. But now I must leave you. I must go home.” Evelyn opened Jason’s wallet and found out where she now lives. Before she left, she steps over to the mirror and looks at herself. In the mirror she sees the reflection of a handsome young man. She smiles to herself and then proceeds to the door. She opens it and leaves the home. Once Evelyn had left the house, Jason, now fully dressed in Evelyn’s clothes walked over to the mirror to see what he looked like. It now took some effort to get over there since all his joints hurt and he couldn’t stand up straight anymore. The reflection staring back at him was that of an elderly woman. It didn’t matter that his clothes didn’t fit in a womanly way nor that he didn’t fill out his bra properly. The reflection showed the features of an elderly woman. It was at this moment that something occurred to him and he reflexively threw his hands to his crotch. The sudden jerk sent tendrils of pain through his knuckles but it was still there. He may look like an elderly woman to the world, but he still had his manhood. He smiled, which gave him his first look at his new dentures. Looking directly at his body, except for the swelling in his joints due to his arthritis and his hunched over appearance, he looked like himself. He could see the smoothness of his skin, well the smoothness of a teenage boy’s skin anyway. He could see the usual sparse hair on his arms which were the beginnings of manhood. He had gained a great deal of weight, but it was mostly in his belly and chest like an obese teenaged boy, not the rounded hips and butt of a fat woman. All in all notwithstanding what the mirror was telling him he still had the body of a boy not of an elderly woman. Even though he could never see it, he assumed that in reality his face hadn’t really changed from male to female either. It was at this moment that he realized he was exhausted. He saw a big comfortable chair in the room and moved toward it. He plopped into the chair and let sleep take him.The doorbell woke up Jason. He was momentarily disoriented, but then it all came back to him. Should he open the door he thought to himself. He decided not to. A few moments later the bell rang again. The next time it rang, he heard someone call, “Evelyn, it’s Carol are you alright?” A moment later, there was another ring and a more insistent call. “Evelyn, can you hear me?” Then another call, “I’m using my key to come in.” At this announcement, Jason decided to reply. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Trying to get out of the chair was going to be harder than he thought. He tried pushing himself up with his arms and hands, but a twinge of pain from his arthritis shot up his arm thwarting his attempt. He tried again more gingerly this time and with some effort got himself to his feet. He found he had to use the furniture for support to get to the door. By the time he was half way there, Carol had let herself into the house. “Did you forget that I was coming today?” asked Carol. “Ummm, well I guess I did.” Jason lied. “We have a bunch of things to do today, but I see you’re not dressed yet.” “I was taking a nap.” “Well you get dressed and I’ll get everything ready.” “I don’t think I should go out today. I’m feeling . . . ” “Nonsense, you always say that, you are going out and that’s that.” Carol was a neighbor who had put it onto herself to help the elderly woman who lived across the street. Many a time Evelyn would say she didn’t want to go, but Carol knew if Evelyn didn’t go out with her, she wouldn’t go out at all. Going out was good for her. Jason, didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be left alone. More had happened to him in the last few hours than anyone would ever know. Jason couldn’t tell this Carol person that he wasn’t really Evelyn. Jason knew without a doubt that Evelyn’s threat was real. The pains throughout his body proved it to a certainty. Carol sounded sincere that she would take him out. For what reason, he didn’t know. Finally, Jason made a decision to just play along. “OK, OK. Where are we going again?” “You silly goose, you know, we have to run your errands. Buy groceries and go to the laundry and anything else we need to pick up. It looks like you haven’t eaten? Why don’t you go and get dressed and I’ll make you something before we go out.” “OK, Thank you.” was all that Jason could think to say. Jason ambled his way to Evelyn’s bedroom steadying himself from one piece of furniture to the next. Once he got to the room, Jason realized he had to pee. So he continued through the bedroom to the attached bathroom. When he got there, he closed the door. He wasn’t sure if Evelyn would have closed the door with only Carol in the house, but he did it anyway. In the bathroom he saw the toilet. Surrounding the toilet were handrails. Thinking about how hard it was to get out of the easy chair in the livingroom, Jason realized that those rails would be of assistance if he had to make a dump. But he only had to pee, so he wouldn’t need it now. He reached his hands under his housedress and pulled down his panties. But because of his osteoporosis and arthritis he had to hold onto the rail to keep from falling. But he needed another hand to keep his housedress up and still another to point his penis into the right direction. He soon realized the only way to pee without making a mess was to sit down. So he turned his back to the toilet and sat down. He had to lift his butt to pull his housedress out of the way. And then he tucked his penis down under his legs and closed his thighs to keep it in place. Then he let his bladder empty. It occurred to him that he was peeing like a girl. He didn’t want to pee like a girl, but in his state this was the only practical way to do it and he would have to do it like this for eve . . . well for as long as he was like this. Especially in regular public stalls that presumably don’t have handrails like his had. After relieving himself, Jason went to find something to wear. He searched through the draws first. The first draw he found was Evelyn’s lingerie draw. It was full of plain bras and panties. Even though it was a draw filled with women’s underwear, Jason found nothing in it sexy at all. Jason saw no reason to change his underwear so he closed that draw and opened another. In there were women’s shirts. He looked for a T-shirt to wear, but none of the shirts were of that type. There were only blouses and tops. Most were in pastel colors and assorted nature prints. Jason didn’t notice, but all had at least a short sleeve and none had any buttons or other fasteners. Not finding a T-shirt, Jason picked one at random. Next he was looking for some pants. He was looking for some jeans, but Jason discovered Evelyn didn’t own any of those either. All of Evelyn’s pants had an elastic waist and were made of loose but springy materials. Not knowing which one to pick, Jason decided it would be best to pick one that was a similar color to the blouse he had selected. With the pants and top he had selected, Jason went over to the bed to put them on. Before sitting down, he lifted the housedress over his head. He did it gingerly to prevent his arthritis from flaring up again. Once it was off, he could see his body again. He noticed he was still wearing a bra, he was going to take it off when he remembered Evelyn making a point of saying she always wore one at all times. Deciding to keep his bra on, he sat on the bed and tried to get his pants on. This was proving to be much harder than he thought. He discovered that not only did his arms and legs have arthritis, but so did his back. Even though he was already stooped over he just couldn’t manage to get his pants low enough to get them under his feet. After a couple minutes of trying Jason decided it must be easier to put on a dress. He went over to the closet to pick one out. He really didn’t care, and like the top he picked out, he selected one at random. He slipped it over his head and it fell down to below his knees. He thought yet another thing he had to do like a girl. Not because he wanted to, but he had little choice. The final thing he needed to put on was shoes. By the closet was a shoe caddie. Was that what it was called? It was a cardboard box with slots filled with women’s shoes. Whatever it was called that’s where the shoes were. All the shoes were of a slip on variety with no back and little or no heel. Once again, he picked one at random and slipped his feet into them. It was at this time that Carol entered the room. “Wow you look great, but I think you need stockings with that dress.” “I don’t think I can reach to get them on.” Jason said honestly. “I’ll help you and I won’t take no for an answer.” Carol walked over to the proper draw as she had done many times before and fetched the stockings. Jason walked over to sit on the bed as directed by Carol, who took off the shoes, put on the stocking and then replaced the shoes again. “There you are all set to go out. I made you a sandwich and some coffee.” Jason found a vegetable cream cheese on white bread sandwich with a cup of coffee waiting for him on the kitchen table. After taking his first bite and realizing that he had dentures not his real teeth he was grateful that the food was so soft. This was also the first cup of non-Starbucks type coffee he had ever had. It was more bitter than he thought coffee was. Carol had prepared it like Evelyn likes it which was with one sweet-n-low and a little milk. Jason didn’t like it, but drank it all anyway. After he was finished, Carol hustled him out of the house. But before they left, Carol remarked that Evelyn should wear some makeup to greet the world. She told Jason to pucker his lips, which he did, he had decided that it was much easier and safer to just do as Carol said. Carol took some lipstick from her purse and coated Jason’s lips. Then she put some blush on his cheeks. Satisfied Carol smiled at Jason and said let’s go. Carol then picked up Evelyn’s purse and handed it to Jason. Jason took a hold of it and followed Carol to the front door. Carol reminded him to take his walker. The walker did make walking much easier although Jason had to sling his purse over his shoulder to manage the walker. Soon they were in the car on the way to who knows where. Carol told Jason in the car that they were off to do her grocery shopping and to the laundry. When they got to the shopping center, Carol handed Jason a list of items he needed at the market. Carol had already sorted “Jason’s” laundry while Jason was eating and had the items sorted into two bags. Jason found out later, that Carol had hand-washed Jason’s panties and bras and that they were hanging in the bathroom to dry. Jason used his walker to head to the market while Carol took the laundry to the laundry mat. Once Jason entered the store, he put his walker and purse into a cart and then used the cart to steady himself as he walked around the market to get what was on his list. Looking over the list, Jason noticed all the items had two things in common. They were all soft to eat and bland to the taste. Jason would prefer something sweeter or tastier than what was listed, but he didn’t dare deviate from the list. He went up one aisle and down the next looking for the items. If the list didn’t specify a brand, he simply took the easiest one to reach. While shopping, Jason heard someone call out, “Evelyn.” It took him a moment to realize that this woman was referring to him. The woman who was in her fifties greeted Jason with a hug and a peck on the cheek. Jason returned the gesture. Then the woman started talking. It started off with the woman asking how Evelyn was doing. Jason barely got out, “Fine.” When the woman went on about the things that were going on in her life. She told Evelyn about her recent illness, then she went on about her children and people and gossips about other people. Jason couldn’t get in a word edge wise even if he wanted to. Jason couldn’t care less about these people he didn’t know. But he feigned interest and made the cursory words of agreement, such as “uh huh,” “I know.” and “Right.” Eventually the woman ran out of things to say and then hurried off. Jason never knew the name of the woman. Happy to be left alone, Jason went back to his shopping. Jason wasn’t half way done with the shopping by the time Carol caught up with him. Carol tore the list in half keeping the longer part of the list. Carol told Jason to meet her at the check out line when Jason was done with his part of the list. Eventually all the items were selected and as stated, they met at the checkout line. When the items were totaled up, Jason looked into his purse for the money to pay. He was going to take out a bunch of big bills and collect the change, but he saw a boy Jason’s age was impatiently waiting behind him. Jason smiled to himself and took his time getting the correct change from his change purse as he had seen many older women do. With his arthritis it took a while to get the change, but he purposefully counted it out slowly. This was the first time all day, Jason had a real smile on his face. It showed off his dentures, but he didn’t care. After the market, they put the groceries in the car and went to the laundry to put the clean clothes into the dryer. Then Carol suggested that while they wait, they head over to the beauty pallor to get Jason’s hair done. Carol had arranged this appointment while Jason was at the market. They weren’t going to only style Jason’s hair into a typical old lady perm, but they were also going to give Jason a manicure and pedicure. Carol got the idea when she put on Jason’s stockings and had noticed he didn’t have any nail polish on his toes. They filed his nails and they painted them a simple reddish color. When finished, they returned to the laundry. They folded Jason’s clothes. Carol did most of the folding and they headed back to the house. Carol was in a rush since she had to be home before her children returned home from school so she put the groceries and laundry away for Jason. Jason thanked her for all her help but was just happy to get her out of there and be alone. Jason collapsed into the easy chair for the second time, but this time he didn’t fall asleep. He decided to watch some TV. There was a remote near the chair and he used it to turn on the TV. The remote was made for a person with limited use of their fingers. On the top there were the two biggest buttons, the button to turn on the TV and the button marked ‘favorites’ which presumably were set for Evelyn’s favorites. Jason tried the favorites’ button and there were only eight channels selected. These channels mostly contained classic movie channels, cooking and craft shows and talk shows. So Jason tried to use the general channel changer to find something he liked. He found that Evelyn had selected a cable package that didn’t contain most of the channels he liked. It didn’t have any sports channels at all, it didn’t have channels like spike or scifi. The best he could find was comedy central, but because he was searching through all the channels it took a while to circle around and return to that channel. After watching for about 20 minutes, the phone rang. This accidentally caused Jason to press the favorites’ channel again which put something on the TV that he didn’t like and he knew what a pain it would be to return to what he was watching. Jason picked up the phone. The person on the other line started talking. Jason had no clue who it was. It was some woman. Jason tried to fake his way through the conversation. He started with the truth when the woman asked him what he had done today. He told her that Carol had come over and they went to the market. He had only hoped that this person knew who Carol was, but he assumed anyone who called probably knew. Then the woman on the phone started to tell him about what was going on in her life and of her children. It was in the middle of this that Jason figured out that this was Evelyn’s daughter. Jason didn’t offer up much information. He just agreed with whatever the woman was talking about and said several noncommittal phrases throughout their conversation. Mostly Jason just tried to figure out how everyone related to everyone else in their conversation. Evelyn’s daughter never noticed. Jason was starting to realize that young people don’t really talk to the elderly as much as they talk at the elderly. They were on the phone for over an hour and Jason probably hadn’t said more than fifty words in all that time. After the phone call, Jason went back to watching TV. It was faster to find what he wanted this time, but what he really wanted to watch was unavailable to him. At about 6:30, the doorbell rang again. This time, Jason called out who is it? It didn’t matter. He would have to open the door regardless. As it turned out this time, it was one of the visiting nurses who Jason found out later came every day. They could only stay 20 minutes and didn’t have time to chat which suited Jason just fine. But the first thing she did was to give Jason a shot. It was Evelyn’s medication. He didn’t know what was in that shot, but there was nothing he could do about it anyway. Then the nurse told Jason to go into the bathroom. It seems Evelyn needed help with her bath every day and a nurse came by to help her. To save time the nurse selected Jason’s attire for the evening (nothing fancy: full cut panties, a bra and a housedress) and then helped Jason get out of what he was already wearing. Then she helped Jason into the tub and carefully washed him. She had put a shower cap over his newly permed hair to keep the perm from getting ruined. She rubbed all over his body and Jason actually got an erection. But the nurse couldn’t see his penis and there was nothing he could do about it anyway so nothing became of it. The nurse dried him off after the bath and helped him get dressed. She removed Jason’s dentures and put them into a cup with denture cleaning tablets in it. Then she went into the kitchen to make sure Evelyn had plenty of eat and left the house. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Jason made dinner the best he could. He had to retrieve his dentures to eat it though. Jason made a mental note to eat before the nurse got there in the future. He watched TV and then went to bed. Months passed and his life had become very routine. After a while he figured out the names and relationships of the people in his life. If Carol didn’t come, Jason was trapped in his house. He couldn’t go very far with his walker and where was there to go anyway. Twice a week a bus came and picked him up to take him to the senior center. This was the highlight of his week. The best, most exciting time of his life was playing BINGO for silly prizes he didn’t need. There were also card games with the old women. At first he refused because he didn’t know how to play. But he watched for a while and figured it out. One day he was sitting alone waiting for the noon BINGO game when he saw a familiar face. It was the real Evelyn. She looked both old but had a youthful appearance. She walked the strong confident steps of a young adult. Her grey hair was made up in a long wavy feminine hair style that ended a little below her shoulders. She wore several types of makeup on her wrinkled face. Jason didn’t know what all of the makeup was called, but he could see foundation, blush, eye shadow, eyeliner and lipstick. He also noticed that her eyebrows had been plucked and an eyebrow pencil was used. She wore a nice floral print blouse with buttons and a matching skirt. On her legs were pantyhose and she wore an open toed pump with a two-inch heel. She also wore jewelry and other accessories to enhance her appearance. All in all she wore clothes that would be better suited for a woman in her 40s than one in her 80s. “Hello,” she said, “what do you think of how I look?” “It’s alright I guess.” But before he could say anything else, Evelyn gave Jason a mirror. “Now look at me through this mirror.” What Jason saw in the mirror was himself wearing very girly clothes. Well it was how his body should look. Jason knew that everyone saw him as Evelyn, but he had forgotten that everyone would see Evelyn as him. So that when Evelyn dressed like a woman, it would look like a boy who dressed in drag. Jason didn’t like it. He thought that in some weird way that Evelyn was ruining Jason’s reputation. “Why did you do that? I thought you were going to be me?” “No I was going to be me. It was the world who thought I was you. And even if the world thinks I’m a boy, I am not, I am a woman, I am still Evelyn Collins and I am going to act like it. Let me tell you a little bit about my life now. Well, if people are going to think of me as you I have raised my grades in high school. It looks like I am going to graduate in the spring and then I’m off to enroll in college.” At this Jason did smile. He wanted to graduate high school, but it didn’t look like he was going to when he was “himself.” “Next, now that my fingers don’t hurt, I have returned to sewing and knitting. If you like what I am wearing, thank you, I actually made it by hand. I am also a great cook and I have started cooking again. I have also started to take up ballet, I always wanted to when I was younger, but never got around to it.” Evelyn went on about what she had done with Jason’s life emphasizing the more feminine aspects of her life. Finally, Jason exclaimed, “Dad would kick my ass if I became a faggot!” “Well, at first he was a bit ‘peeved’ at my new lifestyle. But soon he forgot everything he ever knew about sex and how men and women are ‘supposed’ to act. It was wiped right out of his head and it was replaced with how he loves to play with Barbies. He knows everything about Barbies now, just like three little ten-year-old girls did who were playing in the yard next door. They don’t seem to like to play with them anymore. But your dad he just loves it. He spends all his spare time in the den just playing with them. He dresses and undresses them and takes them on all sorts of pretend adventures. Actually, he knows how to dress the Barbies better than he knows how to dress himself. I have to tell him what to wear in the morning, if not he would dress himself up like he dresses his Barbies. I can’t allow that because then he might lose his job and who’ll pay for my college tuition.” Oh yes, I told you I love to cook and so I have started to do all the cooking in the house. But Mom didn’t like that and so I had to talk to her. Now she is much more obedient to my wishes. She does anything I say now and will do it for just a pat on the head. But the dog had become too willful. She refused to get off the furniture and just wanted to do her own thing like she owned the place. I had to take her to the humane society. I hope they found a home for a willful dog. If not they’ll have to put her to sleep.” Jason couldn’t stand it any more and leaped at Evelyn. But his condition made moving slow. The next thing he knew, he was in a small room, strapped to a chair with an IV dripping into his arm. “I see you’re with us now.” Jason was struggling against his restraints. “Calm down, calm down. You are at the ‘We Care Nursing Home.’ I’m Dr. Krown and I’m here to help you. Answer all my questions truthfully and everything will be alright.” Jason didn’t know that there was a truth serum in the IV. Dr. Krown knew that sometimes his patients lied and this was the best way to get to the truth. “First question. What is your name?” “Jason Thompson,” Jason said, stating his true first name since all this began. “How old are you?” “I am eighteen years old.” “What is your gender?” “I am a man.” Dr. Krown asked question after question and Jason answered truthfully to every single one. When Dr. Krown was finished, he stated, “OK, I can help you. Everything will be alright.” And with that Dr. Krown stuck a syringe into the IV bag and Jason fell unconscious. Some time later, days, weeks, months, Jason didn’t know, Jason woke up to find himself sitting in a comfortable chair in Dr. Krown’s office. He was unbound and wearing the attire of a typical elderly female patient like the other patients in the nursing home. “Ok, I am going to ask you some questions and just tell me truthfully. These are very simple questions. So just relax.” “What is your name?” “Evelyn Collins.” “Good, and how old are you Evelyn?” “I’m eighty-seven-years-old.” “Are you a man or a woman?” “I’m a woman.” “Do you know where you are?” “I’m at the We Care Nursing Home.” “How long have you been here?” “I live here.” “No, how long have you lived here?” “All my life.” “All your life?” “Yes, I was born here, I have always lived here.” “That’s right.” Dr. Krown handed Jason a piece of paper. It was the weekly menu of foods served at the home. “Which of these foods do you like to eat?” “I love everything on this list.” Jason didn’t even know other foods existed anymore. “Good, what do you like to do in your free time.” Jason recited from memory all the activities available on the daily schedule of the home.” “How do you like it here?” “I love it here.” was the immediate reply. Jason doesn’t know anymore anything outside the walls of the home. As far as he knew, he has never spend one minute outside the front door. “When Stacy, your daughter, comes over to see you, what will you tell her about your time here?” “I will tell her I love it here, the people are so nice and I never want to leave.” Jason was now a mindless shell who thought his name was truly Evelyn Collins. He did everything the staff told him to and nothing more. He played the games, ate the food, wore the clothes, went to sleep and woke up when told. He wore a permanent contented smile on his face. He had only one thought in his mind and that was to do whatever he could to make the staff of the home’s work as easy as possible. End
  3. I'm going to write this story to see how it turns out. I am going to stick mostly to the technical aspects of what is possible and try and make it as realistic as possible. Mostly I am probably going to explain this from the Mother's perspective since as the adult she'll work out the details and the boy will simply follow along learning what he must. There will be no sexual content in this story and no real twists or turns, just a straight story on what is needed to complete the plot. Comments always welcomed. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moving To A New Place (AR, AP, TG, MC) It was a crisp fall day. The leaves had just started turning pretty colors although they were still mostly green. The temperatures had started to drop. Most people at the mall were wearing sweaters, sweatshirts or jackets with light linings. People were walking from their cars to the mall’s doors enjoying the weather. The coolness was very refreshing after the long hot summer that had ended a few weeks ago. Among these people were Lydia and her son Timmy. Timmy didn’t want to be there. As most ten-year-olds he would prefer to be home playing with his video games or with his friends. But he was too young to be left alone and so he had to come when his mom told him too. Since he is almost as tall as his mom, he sort of thinks of himself as an adult in a ‘childish’ way, equating height with age. He is a good looking boy with much of the pretty features of his mom and very few of the features of his dad which he hadn’t seen in some time. Behind his glasses he has pretty eyes like his mother although they are relatively far apart. His nose is small and shaped like his mom but when puberty hits in a few years that’ll probably change. His mouth is bow-like like his mom’s too. He doesn’t have the high cheekbones that his mom has but he also doesn’t have the more angular face that men have. Even though he has a pretty face, it’s his short, velvety soft haircut that pronounces he is a boy. The main body of his hair is so short that it stands up by itself. The hair is cut so short on the sides so his ears clearly stand out. It is the haircut along with his boyish clothes that screams that he is definitely a boy and not a girl. He wears the standard boy uniform of jeans, sneakers and a crew-neck t-shirt with some sort of animated character on the front and an obnoxious saying underneath. Similar to how Timmy was dressed to scream that he was a boy, Lydia used all her knowledge of makeup and fashion to accentuate her prettiness. Lydia was thin and short. Only one inch taller than her son actually. But she always wore heels to add two to three extra inches. She was thin and didn’t have many curves. There was in fact only two or maybe two and a half inches between the smallest part of her waist and the fullest part of he hips. Today, she accentuated the difference with tight shirts and slim-cut jeans. She also always wore a padded bra to augment her slight A-cup breasts. But most important in projecting her age (she was 33 but she wanted people to think she was in her twenties) and gender was the hair style and makeup she wore. She wore contacts instead of glasses to highlight her pretty eyes. Her makeup was perfected over many years to bring out her best features and minimize her flaws. Her hair was long enough to cover her ears and frame her face ending with an inward curl just above her shoulders. Lydia and Timmy got out of the car and started to walk towards the entrance of the mall. They were there to get something that Lydia wanted or needed to get. But what she wanted doesn’t matter anymore because while she was walking a thought popped into Lydia’s head. The thought replaced what she was thinking about and entered her mind as a fully formed idea. This alien idea entered without her noticing that it wasn’t her idea. In fact she now actually remembered thinking about this for quite some time, for years actually. It would never occur to her that the idea wasn’t her own nor that it was truly absurd to think this way. The thought was “I am a failure as a woman, I should start over again as a boy.” If she thought back on this idea she would find she had been thinking about it ever since Timmy’s father left. Timmy’s father had left the family to live with another woman and after litigation Lydia had received child support and alimony. She receives enough to live on without having to get a job. Not having to work was one of the big pieces in ‘her plan’ that made what she was thinking possible. The fact that ten-year-olds no matter what their height or perceived maturity could never impersonate adults could never enter her thoughts. She simply thought, he is about her height now and with makeup could be made to look pretty and so he could be her and she could be him. Somehow she knew he wanted to be an adult and so he would go along. As she walked with her son towards the mall entrance all that was on her mind was not whether it should be done nor could it possibly be done or the morals of doing it. All she was thinking of is how to do it. Her mind was working overtime on her plans of how to swap lives with her ten-year-old son and she saw nothing wrong with thinking this way. “Timmy,” Lydia said, “I have something to tell you so lets go to the food court and talk.” Lydia couldn’t possibly know that at the moment that alien thought entered her mind a complementary thought was entering Timmy’s. All children wish they were grown up. Well grown up on their own terms. They see their parents lives as easy. That they could do anything they want. Timmy daydreamed, like all kids, that he wished he could do what he wanted like play all the time and have all the candy he wanted. He didn’t think of the responsibilities of being an adult. He just wanted to do what he wanted to do and the only way was to be an adult. He also wanted his mom to know what it’s like to be bossed around like a kid. So, in his childish way, he wanted to swap lives with his mother. Of course he didn’t want to be a girl or to really act like an adult. It was just a childish fantasy that children have. But in the instant that alien thought entered his Mom’s mind, Timmy’s childish daydream was transmuted into a serious desire to want to live the life of his mother knowing full well to do so he would have to give up all of his childhood. Timmy’s maturity level also grew at that instant and not only wanted but was willing to do whatever it took to become the adult woman that his mother is. Just as with his mother, Timmy would never question the absurdity of his desire. To both Lydia and Timmy this new decision is simply a life choice as reasonable as joining a soccer team or enrolling at the local gym. Lydia ordered a happy meal for Timmy and a salad with a coffee for herself. They sat down at a table and Lydia started to speak. “I have something I want to tell you. I think you are going to like what I have to say. I think you want this too. I think it’ll be best for both of us.” Lydia rambled on not knowing how to say her great idea. Regardless of the absurdity of this, she knew it meant a lot of changes and this made her hesitate in telling him straight out. Timmy’s new maturity level asserted itself and allowed him to say, “Just take a breath and tell me what you mean.” This encouragement was just the thing to propel Lydia into telling her son what she thinks she must. “Well, I think,” she continued, “that it would be best if we swapped places. I would be the son and you would be the mom.” Anyone else would either be incredulous of what he heard or would not know what Lydia meant. But, Timmy knew exactly what she meant, because the thought was put into his mind too. Timmy was about to say something when Lydia cut him off trying to explain exactly what she meant. “I mean, this is hard to say, that I would be a boy. I will go to school everyday and take classes in the fourth grade. After school I would do my homework and my chores. I will play with my friends which will all be ten-year-old boys. My name would be Timmy. I’ll wear boy’s clothes and sleep in a room designed for a boy. You will be Lydia and will be my mom. You will do the housework, cook the meals and pay the bills. You will dress like a woman and do the things a woman would do. Except for playing with me, you won’t play boy’s games again. I will teach you how to wear women’s clothes and do womanly things.” Lydia stopped talking for a while to let the idea sink in. There were thousands of questions in Timmy’s mind. But not one about they shouldn’t do it. They were mostly how can they do it. “You can’t go to school as me, my teachers and my friends know what I look like.” “I know I was thinking about that. We would have to move and enroll in a new school where no one knows what either of us looks like. I think it’ll take about two months to move and during that time, we will have to make arrangements so that when we move into the new apartment, you will be Lydia and I’ll be Timmy. I think in two months we can do it. We are already about the same height and wonders can be done with hair, makeup and clothing. When I was younger I was sometimes mistaken for a boy because I was so thin. I think if I try I can do that again. The proper hair and makeup can make anyone look older if you know how to do it right.” “Do you really think we can do it?” “I have been thinking about this for a long time.” She hadn’t been actually, but she thinks she has. “And I think we can. Let’s start with something simple.” She then pushed her salad and coffee to Timmy and picked up his burger and fries. She took a small bite and told Timmy to start eating. He then took his plastic fork and stabbed the salad with it and then proceeded to spoon the vegetables into his mouth. After watching how he ate his first mouthful, Lydia corrected him to be more gentile when retrieving his food and to take smaller bites. Timmy picked up this new style of eating quickly. Watching Timmy eat reminded Lydia to take bigger bites and to stuff more food into her mouth. She had watch Timmy eat more closely than Timmy ever watched her and so she adapted her eating style to that of a ten-year-old without being told. Eating like a kid was actually easier than eating like an adult since you didn’t have to think about it. Timmy had his first taste of coffee between bites of salad. He didn’t like it with little milk and some sweet-and-low. But in the weeks to come he would grow to like coffee since it was the drink he would drink most often from now on, although he would have it with much more milk and some sugar instead of the pink stuff. Everyone minded their business in the food court thus no one noticed how the pair was eating and those that did didn’t care anyway. Their first stop was the lingerie department in a department store. Lydia had always been thin so she knew exactly where the padded bra section was. She picked up a padded bra in what she guessed was Timmy’s size and she also found a set of falsies to help give him some curves. Then she went over to a section that very vew women know about. This section had padded panties. She had first used one of these years ago when she went to the prom. These panties were very high waisted and rose up to ones ribs. The back had padding that lifts and accentuates the butt and the padding extends around to the hips. She rarely wears such garments. She only wears them for special formal occasions like the prom and weddings when she wants to look great. But she has some curves and Timmy obviously has none so he’ll have to wear these garments all the time. She couldn’t have Timmy try these clothes on here, so she only took one of each and would have him try them on at home to see if the size was correct. Timmy was silent all through the excursion to the lingerie department, he didn’t know exactly what was going on and Lydia couldn’t tell him in public anyway. After purchasing the bra and panty, Lydia took Timmy to a drugstore. She handed a prescription to the pharmacist and then went looking around while he filled it. She retrieved an ace bandage and a pair of scissors. She gave the items to the cashier and had her ring them up along with the prescription which hadn’t been filled yet. She would pick all the stuff up later. Their final destination at the mall was to buy a wig. Lydia needed a wig that was similar to her own hair. She expected that during the time of transition, both Timmy and herself would have to go out in public as each other and then back again. She would have to cut her hair to impersonate a ten-year-old and so she’d need a wig to return to her old identity and Timmy would need a wig to be her. So whoever had the wig would be the adult woman and the one who didn’t was the child. There was more too it than that of course. After a wig was selected and paid for, they stopped at the drugstore to pick out their purchases and drove home. This was the last day that Lydia would be Lydia full time and Timmy would be Timmy. From then on, for at least part of the time every day they would be each other to one extent or another. It was a short drive back to Lydia’s and Timmy’s apartment. Lydia accompanied Timmy to his room and gave him the padded bra and panty. She told him to put them on. Before leaving his room she took one of his baseball caps. Then she left him to look at herself in the bathroom mirror. Once she got there she used the cap to pull her hair off her face. But even with her hair hidden by the cap she could still see a pretty face looking back at her. Concentrating just on her face, she could see a pretty woman in a baseball cap looking back at her. The first thing she did was to remove her earrings. Then she started spreading cold cream on her face to remove all her makeup. When her face was completely clean of makeup which actually took a while, Timmy finally walked into the bathroom. Timmy was wearing the padded panties and bra. Putting on the panties was easy. He simply pulled them up his legs like a pair of shorts and then kept pulling them up as far as they would go until they reached the bottom of his rib cage. But, never putting on a bra before it took him a while to get it on. He tried to put his hands through the straps and then hook the hook and eye closures in the back. He just couldn’t do it. Finally he took it off, secured the fasteners and then pulled it over his head like a t-shirt. When he walked into the bathroom he looked ridiculous. Even though the padding did give him a pseudo-feminine figure his boyhood clearly stood out in the front. Also even though the bra clearly stood out in the front because of the padding, the cups were unmistakably empty. Lydia smiled at the boy’s reflection in the mirror. The smile made Lydia’s face look pretty and unmistakenly feminine even without makeup. It was then that she got an idea. She changed her expression from a pretty smile to a toothy grin, the type she had seen many times on the posed pictures of kids. The grin wasn’t much but it did help. Lydia then turned to Timmy and said “Very pretty.” resuming her pretty smile. The first thing she did was to reach down his panties and tuck his penis between his legs. “No more unsightly bulges,” she thought to herself. Next she put the falsies she had bought into the empty cups of his bra. Once in, she readjusted the straps to give the bra the proper fit. She then put her hands infront of her eyes to look at her son’s body without seeing his face or legs. With a bit of imagination Timmy could pass for a girl. The next step was to put the wig they got on him. With his boyish hair replaced the womanly wig she could see the girl in him come out. She took off his glasses and started to imagine his face fully made up and she thought to herself that this could really work. She didn’t want to spend the hours it would take to hit upon the perfect makeup for him so she led him into her bedroom to find some clothes for him to wear. The problem was that her clothes were too big for him. She didn’t want him to wear tight clothes anyway, not when all his curves were fake. It would be better to put pretty, mature clothes on him. She thought that overly feminine clothes would balance out his boyish appearance and give him a natural feminine look. They would also make him look older although she knew that it would be the makeup that would really be the determining factor. First she had him step into a pair of regular panties. Normally a woman wouldn’t wear regular panties over the padded kind, but she thought that the hint of regular panties under his outer clothes would help the illusion. Then she had him put on a print blouse with buttons in the front and shoulder pads. The buttons highlighted the bra cups and the padded shoulders hinted at feminine shoulders underneath. Then she had him put on a skirt with a wide belt. The skirt was too big for him, but the belt fixed that a bit and it help to highlight the faux curved created by his padded panties. All of her shoes was too big for him and there was no way around that. She would have to buy him shoes (and dresses, skirts, blouses, etc) in his size tomorrow. But with the clothes he was wearing she could imagine him with makeup hiding what was left of the boyishness on his face and she thought this could work. After he was dressed, she led him downstairs and she signed three times on a piece of paper her signature. She sat him down dressed as he was and told him to copy her signature. He was to do it and keep doing it until she told him to stop. She knew he would never get her signature perfect, but she had to teach him to sign it like it was second nature and to learn to sign like a woman not a boy. She watched him do the first one and told him to take his time to learn to do it right. Then he did it more slowly, forming each letter. She corrected him again. She then left him alone to keep trying. Her next step was to make herself look more boyish. Back in her bathroom she looked at her face again and smiled to herself. Catching the pretty smile again she forced herself to make the toothy grin. What she needed was a frank assessment of her face. She determined that the most immediate problems were her shaped eyebrows and her high cheekbones. The eyebrows were the easiest to fix. It would take time for her eyebrows to grow in naturally, but a little eyebrow pencil can give her the boyish look she was looking for. The cheekbones was another story. She had to make them appear lower than they actually were. She tried some foundation to do it, but that wasn’t enough. Then it hit on her, Timmy wore glasses, not contacts. She put her fingers in circles around her eyes. This hid her cheekbones to some degree. That might be it, kiddie glasses would de-emphasize her cheekbones and give her whole face a general boyish appearance. But she thought that the determining factor would be her hair cut. She decided just like Timmy needed to dress in older more feminine clothing than she usually wore to give him an adult woman look, she would have to have a haircut so stereo-typically boyish to make her appear as a natural boy. It was there and then she decided she would have to get a standard short boys cut with a part on the left side. It couldn’t be in any old boyish style. The style needed to be short, the style needed to leave her ears uncovered and they style needed to be straight with out any look of being made up. Yes that would do it. After reshaping her eyebrows, she left the bathroom and headed for Timmy’s room. Before reaching her destination, she decided to check on how Timmy was doing with his ‘signature lesson.’ She looked at his work, praised him for his efforts but redirected him to make the signatures look more like hers or at least more feminine. Then she was off to Timmy’s room. In Timmy’s room she took off all her clothes and decided what to put on. She knew that the baggier the clothes the better. She started with a pair of boy’s briefs. She could pull the briefs on but they were tight. She had already known in the back of her mind that she would have to buy completely new wardrobes for both her and Timmy. The tightness of the briefs made this feeling abundantly clear. There really wasn’t any pants that she could fit into so she found some shorts with a stretchy waist and put them on. She then took the ace bandage she bought from the drugstore and did something for the first time that should would have to do from now on. She wrapped it around her breasts to flatten them. She would have to tell anyone who saw it or asked that she had had some sort of back accident, but there was no choice her breasts needed to be hidden. With her breasts secure she found the biggest shirt that Timmy owned and put it on. It fell slightly past her hips. But an overly large shirt like this was perfect it hid her womanly curves, the few she had anyway. The shorts looked OK, but her legs didn’t seem very boyish especially legs that ended in feet with painted toes, she would have to fix that. There was also something else that didn’t seem right. Then it hit her and she put a sock into her briefs. She put socks onto her feet. This helped a bit but she knew she would have to go shopping to get clothes in the proper size and style. All in all this was a great start, but there is much to be done. She then went back down to check on Timmy. He had improved. She told him that he could stop now and asked him to get his homework. When Timmy got it out, Lydia surprised him by telling him that she was going to do it for him. She wanted to see what he was learning and how to write like a boy. She told him he could do what he wanted, but he had to continue wearing what he had on. Then she started on his homework. The work was of course very easy, but the point of the assignment for her was research to see what was being taught and to learn how to write like a ten-year-old. She did his homework over and over until it looked like it was done by her son. When she was satisfied she went to make dinner for the two of them. She thought she should start teaching Timmy how to do so, but decided there would be plenty of time for that. She then set the table which was usually one of Timmy’s household chores and put the food on the table. She then called Timmy to dinner and he bounded into the diningroom. Seeing this she realized that after dinner she would have to start teaching him how to move and sit like a woman. She supposed she would have to teach herself how to run like a boy. Before eating, Lydia reminded Timmy that while dressed as a woman he must eat like a woman which he did. She on the other hand had to eat like a boy. It took some getting used to but she could do it. After dinner, she started to teach him how to move like a woman. They worked on it a short time but it had been a long day so she decided to quit early. This was only the first day anyway. Lydia told Timmy that from now on, he would always sleep in her room and wear her nightgown to sleep and she would sleep in his pajamas in his room. She then went into her room and laid out a nightgown for Timmy to wear when he was ready for bed. When it was Timmy’s bedtime she called Timmy and told him to go to bed. Timmy took off his outer clothes but didn’t know whether or not to take off his bra and panties so he left them on. He then put on the nightgown that was laid out for him. Before he got into bed, Lydia looked in on him. She was still wearing his daytime clothes. Lydia gave Timmy a round circular contraption with segments numbered 1 to 31 and a corresponding pill in each segment. She told him to take one pill every night after brushing his teeth. Timmy freed the pill designated for today’s date and downed it with some water. She told him to put it away where he wanted and to not forget to take his pill every day. He then got into his Mom’s bed and went to sleep. Lydia had had a long day too and went to Timmy’s room, put on his pajamas and went to bed. Before falling asleep, Lydia realized that in a couple of months, she would be the one with the early bedtime and she smiled to herself. In the morning Lydia and Timmy both returned to normal. Timmy had to go to school and Lydia had errands to run. Lydia made breakfast although Lydia ate the sugary cereal that Timmy usually had and Timmy had the light breakfast and coffee that Lydia usually had. Timmy didn’t have to be reminded to take small slow bites and Lydia was starting to enjoy wolfing down her food as fast as she could. Once Timmy left for school, Lydia drove down to the mall to buy the beginnings of the new wardrobes each would need in the proper sizes. She started with the clothes she needed for herself since that was easier to choose. Firstly she picked up the very basic stuff like boys briefs and socks and a pair of sneakers in her size. She bought several pairs of jeans and pants but a baggy style. She then added several pairs of long t-shirts in primary colors containing obnoxious quotations appropriate for a boy of nine or ten. Picking out her clothes took no time. Then she went in search of Timmy’s new wardrobe. There was no easy selection this time. All clothing choices had to be thought out. For Timmy, three criteria must be considered when choosing an article of clothing. The clothes had to be distinctly mature, feminine and pretty. She started with the easiest part which was picking up more padded panties. He couldn’t wear the same pair day after day, but the styles must all be the same so his figure would be consistent from day to day. After the panties, she had to select matching bra/panty sets. These panties were to be worn over the padded panties and they must have a matching bra. Once again the bra had to be fashionable and age appropriate. No more bras for 20 somethings, these bras had to be for a mature person. Next she had to buy several pairs of opaque pantyhose and tights. Since Timmy’s legs weren’t womanly always wearing hose or tights would give more of an illusion of womanly legs. Next was the hardest part of all the everyday-wear. She wanted nothing youthful. Everything had to be designed for a woman in her thirties or even her forties. The clothes must work together to make several matching outfits. The dresses had to be pretty and need to hint at curves when there weren’t any. The skirt (and skirts of dresses) had to have belts or bows at the waist suggesting a narrowing of the waist and they should flare out at the hips to suggest a fullness there. The tops and blouses must highlight Timmy’s small breasts not bury them. There was a great balancing act to find the proper pieces. Finally several pairs of shoes with at least a three inch heel was selected in Timmy’s size. She hoped that they would fit him. But if they didn’t with Timmy’s new clothes he can come in himself and have shoes fitted for his feet. After several hours, Lydia paid for her purchases and headed home. On the way home, Lydia stopped at an optometrist’s office to buy some glasses for herself. She needed them with a boys frame, but she couldn’t get them directly. By the time she left, she had glasses on order and Timmy was about to arrive home from school. As Lydia drove home she wondered how many days it would take before both her and Timmy would be outside in each other’s clothes. She quickly changed into one of her outfits. When Timmy got home Lydia was wearing the standard boy’s outfit. Loose fitting jeans, an oversized t-shirt, sneakers, athletic socks and a baseball cap. Not only was this stuff easy to buy it was easy to put on. The only thing that took time, besides washing off the makeup off her face was putting on the ace bandage to cover her breasts. Timmy would have a harder time getting dressed though. Actually he would have to try on everything Lydia bought for him to make sure they all had the right look and they all looked good together. One by one, Timmy had to put on each bra that was bought. It was the only way to make sure each of the straps where the right length for his stature. Each skirt and blouse was put on one at a time and then in combinations. Lydia was not only testing the suitability of each garment, but she was also teaching Timmy the art of fashion and the proper way to stand and move. Once the final outfit was sampled, Timmy was told to sit in a chair so Lydia could put his first pair of heels onto his feet. It was at this time, that Lydia showed Timmy how to sit cross legged like a lady. Once the shoes were on Lydia had Timmy walk in them to see how they felt. Timmy tried to walk as he was taught the day before but being in heels for the first time it was just too much to remember. Lydia decided he had had enough and sent him upstairs to watch TV. Lydia reminded him that his room was now the master bedroom and so he went to Lydia’s former room and turned on the TV. He couldn’t lie on his bed dressed as he was so he sat in a chair in the corner instead. In the chair he tried to spend as much time sitting in the proper lady-like fashion as he could. He would sit with his legs crossed and then when one of his legs got tired of that position he would recross his legs with the other leg on top. During this time, Lydia did Timmy’s homework. She also rewrote all his notes from class learning to write like a ten-year-old. When she was done, she decided to teach herself to walk and sit like a ten-year-old boy. She thought about how she corrected Timmy and just tried to do the opposite. She wasn’t sure she was doing it right so she got out the video camera and started to tape herself and then watch it. The first time she saw herself she had to laugh. She was over exaggerating part of his walk and also letting several unconscious feminine mannerism into her stride. It was really quite funny. After about a half hour of trying she quit. She didn’t get it quite right yet, but she was improving. She wanted to relax so she went upstairs to her new room, laid on her new bed and turned on the TV. She realized that for the first time in a while her feet didn’t ache. It occurred to her that boy’s clothing is certainly more comfortable than women’s clothing. She turned on the TV and drifted off to sleep. Timmy awakened Lydia about two hours later. He told her he had fixed dinner and it was on the table. Lydia was impressed by his initiative but dreaded what she would find on the dinner menu envisioning a main course of candy and popcorn. To her surprise dinner was spaghetti with sauce. This was easy to make. To make spaghetti all you did was put the spaghetti in boiling water and wait 10 minutes then you put it on a plate and cover it with spaghetti sauce and you were done. This was a good first meal. They both sat down to dinner. Timmy remembered to take small bites of food and Lydia purposefully slurped her spaghetti which made somewhat of a mess on her face and shirt. Lydia reminded Timmy to sit lady-like with his legs crossed as she showed him before and resisted the urge to do the same. She force herself to sit with her legs wide opened as she had seen so many boys and men do. Looking over at Timmy genteelly sitting quietly eating his dinner she marveled how he was starting to act like a lady and a mother without having to be reminded. “This is going to work out just fine she thought.” After dinner, Lydia had Timmy practice his signatures again. It was extremely important that he learn how to sign Lydia’s name in a feminine fashion similarly to her own true signature. She on the other hand had to learn how to move like a kid. She went back to videotaping herself. Timmy saw her trying to walk like a boy and thought it was very funny and began to laugh. The laugh reminded Lydia of another thing she had to teach him. Seeing the silly way his mom was trying to walk reminded him to fix his stride too. Soon Timmy had given up his signature practice to help his mom learn how to walk like a kid and to learn to walk like a lady himself. Watching each other on videotape was a fun, bonding experience. Seeing the other try to walk and dissecting what was wrong with each other’s gait help both immeasurably. When they were done, Timmy returned to his signature practice yet again and Lydia performed one of Timmy’s chores: clearing the table and putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Timmy’s bedtime approached and they both went to their respective new bedrooms to get ready for bed. It was much easier for Lydia to get ready. She just pulled her clothes off and put on pajamas. Undressing for Timmy was more complicated now. He wanted to rip off his clothes as he had done before. He really couldn’t do that with some of the clothes he was wearing such as the strappy heels he had on. But it also occurred to him that he should do it like an adult and so without being told, he slowly took off his clothes one by one. He made sure that all of his clothing was not turned inside out when he place (not throw) them into the hamper and then he decided all by himself that he didn’t need to sleep in his padded underwear although he should wear his regular panties under his girly pajamas. Timmy was maturing rapidly without Lydia having to tell him too. Before going to bed he brushed his teeth and took the second of his new daily pills. The alarm woke Lydia up in the morning. She had to get ready for the day. But before she left her room, Timmy had entered it. This was the first time she could remember that she didn’t have to wake up Timmy on a school day. Timmy had simply set his alarm too. He wanted to help Lydia fix breakfast. He was starting to see Lydia’s chores as his own or at least they soon would be. They both got dressed and met in the kitchen. They worked together to make breakfast and get ready for the day. Timmy even made his own lunch sandwich. Before Timmy left for the bus, Lydia gave him a tape recorder and told him to turn it on during recess. Lydia had her own tape recorder and she took it when she drove to the hair salon. She turned it on to capture all the conversations going on in the establishment. She knew Timmy had to hear what real women talked about. It was all womanly small talk. They talked about their families and the local gossip shows they watched on TV and the weather. Not everything they talked about was on a stereo-typical female topic. Lydia was in the salon to have her cut short. This was the first step into getting a boyish cut, but first she had to cut her hair short. She told the attendant what she wanted. (She had come up with a cut which could be converted to a similar boy style without too much trouble.) They chatted while the attendant got to work. Sometime during the haircut and styling she realized that this was going to be the last time she’d be here as a customer. She had had a biweekly appointment here for years and this was going to be the last one ever. After this it would be going to the barber every six to eight weeks. When she got home she decided that what she should do is to take a good look around her (Timmy’s old) room. She looked through the toys and games and action figures. She knew the names of some of the heros but not all. She then decided it was time to immerse herself in the culture of being a ten-year-old boy. She turned on the TV and started watching the cartoons. She wasn’t sure which ones Timmy watched but this was a start. After a while an idea hit her. She used the parental controls to prevent her from watching any channel that wasn’t geared towards boys. She then went into her old room and set those controls to show only channels geared for women. This meant that almost all of the channels were blocked on both hers and her son’s TV but from now on, she was going to have to start doing things that boys did more and more often and he was going to have to do the things women did. Timmy would only play with his toys when he played with Lydia and Lydia would only be able to look through her fashion magazines when she was explaining fashion and style to Timmy. Lydia then had another idea. She decided from now on there should be nothing of hers in Timmy’s room and nothing of Timmy’s in her room. The problem was was that they were transitioning with both of them spending time in their natural gender. She decided to put these transitioning clothes into the spare bedroom. It would contain both Lydia’s female clothes and Timmy’s boy clothes. Since this was temporary. She mused at the thought of wearing pretty dresses and feminine attire as temporary. Most of the clothes could be donated to charity. She spend the rest of the time reorganizing Timmy’s and her own rooms. She called a charity to come and pick up the extra stuff. They had retrieved the apparel before Timmy returned home from school. By the time they were done the rest of their old clothing would be donated too. When Timmy entered the apartment he was surprised to see his mother still in her feminine apparel. He had grown to expect after only three days that they would swap as soon as he arrived home from school. Lydia informed him that they had to run some errands. The first stop was the optometrist’s office. She quipped to the optometrist that Timmy wanted contacts just like his moms. The optometrist smiled although he didn’t get the inside joke. While she was there she confirmed that her own prescription would be in in two days. While they were driving around, Lydia played the tape of recess at Timmy’s school. She wanted to hear what they were saying and how they were saying it. She had to learn what boys talked about when adults were not around. She would play for a few seconds or minutes until she heard something she didn’t understand. Timmy would then explain that it was about a cartoon they watched or about an action figure or video game or whatever the case may be. There was a lot to remember. Not as much as being an adult but still a lot. Lydia knew that she didn’t only have to learn to understand what was going on but she had to learn to enjoy it too. After the optometrist, they went shopping again. A woman can never have too many clothes she told Timmy and she wanted to show him how to select clothes for himself. She told him what to look for and that when he got the hang of it he could pick his own personal style. She reminded him half jokingly after all this was done he wouldn’t only be picking out clothes for himself he would also be picking out clothes for her too. After selecting a few things the went off to look at new apartments. Lydia told him that none of the apartments they looked at today they would be living in. In the end he would have to be the one to sign the papers and that was impossible now with him dressed as a boy, but he had better learn what questions he should ask when looking for an apartment. They looked at apartment after apartment. Lydia asked the same questions over and over. After a few days and long before it was time for Timmy to be the one asking the questions he knew them so well he could recite them in his sleep. It was getting late by the time they were done so they ate dinner out. Lydia ate the kids meal and Timmy ate Lydia’s chicken salad and ice tea. They sat in a corner booth and kept an eye out so they could eat in peace. They sat side by side so no one noticed that Timmy sat with his legs crossed. Lydia sat mostly in an unladylike fashion with her legs spread wide apart like a boy but she quickly put her legs back together when the waitress appeared. Back at home Lydia did Timmy’s homework as usual. Timmy was eager to get into the new outfit he had selected today. Once he was all dressed up he looked for his wig. When he couldn’t find it he ask his mom about it. She took it off her head to show her new short hair style underneath. Timmy was shocked. Lydia explained that she needed short hair to impersonate him. Then she sent him upstairs to listen to the tape she made of her time at the salon. She told him to listen close to everything that was said and to think of any questions he had about it. She gave him a walkman to listen to the tape and told him he should also practice walking in heels while listening to the tape. Timmy did as he was told. Lydia knew he wouldn’t understand lots of what was going on in the salon. She would have to go over it with him step by step later. But she wanted him to learn how to walk like a woman without thinking about it and this was the first step. By the time she was finished with Timmy’s homework, Timmy was only half way through the tape. An immature Timmy would think that the women in the salon were talking about crap. It was all about who is seeing who and how everyone’s family is and other silly boring stuff. It didn’t seem to matter whether they were talking about real people or what they was on a soap opera. But Timmy was now more mature than his years and took in as much as he could. Timmy was developing a new nighttime routine. First walking in heels practice. Lydia would refine his gait as he improved. She would show him not only how to walk but how to hold his hands and she even added carrying and holding onto a pocketbook. After walking practice there would be signature practice. Lydia knew it was imperative for Timmy to be able to sign Lydia’s name in an unmistakenly feminine and adult fashion. Then he would change into his nighttime apparel. He could choose lacy pajamas or a nightgown. He would place his used clothing into the hamper and brush his teeth (the one thing that was done the same regardless of his perceived gender) take his daily pill and get ready for bed. After just three days everything was becoming routine. Timmy woke up and went to his old room to get his school clothes. Lydia explained to him about what she did with their clothing. Timmy agreed that it sort of made sense. She also told him about the new channel selection on their TVs and that from now on they would have to enjoy new past times. After Timmy had left for school, Lydia ran her normal errands. This time none of them included anything that had to do with her transition. She got back early and quickly put on her boy clothes. In these clothes she was much more comfortable than wearing her old clothes, especially the shoes. She actually started to look forward to getting out of her heels and putting on her sneakers. She spent her free time waiting for Timmy to return home from school playing his video games. After catching on to the theme of the game she began enjoying herself. When Timmy arrived home he went straight to his room and got dressed. Lydia entered his room before he had completed his ensemble and watched him finish up. She was proud of him. When he finished she led him into the bathroom. Today was the day that Lydia was going to start to teach Timmy how to put on his makeup. She couldn’t teach him everything all at once it is pretty complex. Today she was going to teach him how to put on foundation and how to use blush and powder to give the impression of higher cheekbones. The foundation was used to cover his face. The effect this provided was to make him look older. The strategic placement of blush and pressed powder gave him the appearance of high cheekbones. Later she would show him other areas to put blush, but this simple and very important procedure was a very good start. She showed him how to wash off the makeup and then had him try the procedure himself. She had him do it several times, putting on and taking off him makeup. It wasn’t perfect but it was getting better. Once Lydia thought he had tried enough, they went into Lydia’s room to play with toys. Timmy showed her which action figure was which and how to play with them. For the next two hours, Lydia and Timmy played on the floor with various toys both of them enjoying themselves. When it was time to make dinner they did it together. Lydia taught Timmy not only how to cook but what to cook. It wasn’t just the meat, but also a vegetable and a potato dish. The dinner was put on the table and then they assumed their new roles. Timmy ate everything that was put in front of him. He ate with small bites and he sat with his knees crossed. Lydia picked at her food. Timmy noticed what she was doing and scolded her. Lydia complied. After dinner, Timmy went upstairs to read a fashion magazine and Lydia did her homework. Timmy was reading the magazine willingly. After wearing women’s clothes for several days and picking out outfits he had developed an interest in the subject of women’s fashions. After finishing her homework Lydia went to her room to play with some of her toys. It was more fun now that she knew who each figure was and what she was supposed to do with them. She got so engrossed in her play that it was Timmy who told her it was bedtime after he had finished his nightly routine which now also includes makeup removal. After a long week it was finally Saturday. Timmy woke up earlier than Lydia. He didn’t get dressed preferring to stay in his nightgown but he did decide to practice putting on and taking off his makeup. He knew the look that Lydia was going for and he was getting faster and more accurate in achieving it. The phone rang which awoke Lydia. Timmy answered the phone it was one of his friends who wanted him to come and play. Timmy hadn’t been out playing with his friends since this whole thing began. Timmy told the boy on the phone that he would ask his Mom and phone him back. When he told Lydia, she told him he could go. It was strange that Lydia wanted to go and play with Timmy’s friends more than Timmy did. Timmy wanted to learn more makeup techniques. Timmy got dressed in his boy clothes and headed out to play with his friend. Lydia reminded him to phone when he got there so she knew he had gotten there safe. Lydia was still in her cowboy pajamas when the phone rang. Timmy had arrived and she told him to have fun. She was a little jealous of what he had planned. So she went to her room and played one of Timmy’s video games to relieve her feelings. Her fun was cut short by the phone ringing again. This time it was one of Lydia’s friends. They started talking about this and that. Lydia also hadn’t seen her friends since this whole thing had began but she had stayed in contact by the occasional phone call. During this phone call, she heard her call waiting beep. She answered the second call, excusing herself from her friend. It was the optometrist’s office. Both her glasses and Timmy’s contacts were ready to be picked up. She told them she would be right over. A big smile appeared on her face as she told her friend she had to go and hung up. She bounded up the stairs like Timmy used to in excitement and got dressed in her woman’s clothing. It was early enough so she could get what she wanted done all in one day. She drove to the optometrist’s office and picked up the glasses and contacts. Then she removed her lenses from the frames which were designed for a woman. She needed to get these lenses into boyish frames. She knew (or at least she thought) that the boyish frames would help to make her face look more boyish. It wouldn’t do it alone, but it would help hide her eyebrows which had a womanly arc and distract from her high cheekbones. Oddly enough with hair and makeup and the proper attire she would finally be able to project a completely boyish appearance. She took the lenses to a different optometrist and told him she that these lenses was for her sone who broke the original frames and she wanted new frames to put them in. The optometrist told her it would be better if the boy was here to fit the glasses properly. Lydia made up some sort of story why her son couldn’t come and that he should fit the glasses to her face now and they would return for a proper fitting at another time. She convinced him and within a half an hour she had glasses with boyish frames that fit her face. She was so excited that she removed her own contacts and drove home wearing her new glasses. At home she threw off all her clothes on the way to her room leaving a trail of clothes through out the house. She was so excited that she didn’t realize that she was acting like a boy more naturally now. She then put on her boy clothes and went into Timmy’s room. There she used eyebrow pencil to fill in her brows and make them look boyish. She then put on her new glasses and could see the results. It was good but not perfect. She then used a bit of makeup to make her cheekbones look a bit lower than they were. This took some doing because it had to look completely natural as if she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. After a few trials she got it right. There was one last thing to make her look perfect. She needed a haircut. For this she needed Timmy’s help. She phoned Timmy at his friend’s house and told him to come home. She needed him and she had a big surprise for him. Timmy started home immediately. When he got home and look at his mom he couldn’t believe it. He had seen her dressed up, but he could always see his mom. But now with the glasses and makeup and the ball cap she was wearing she did look like a boy. She told him to get dressed that they were going out and she had a big surprise for him. Timmy wondered what would be a bigger surprise than going out in public for the first time dressed as a woman. No one besides his mom had seen him dressed up. Lydia couldn’t wait. She told him her plan while he got dressed. What they were going to do was drive to a barber and Timmy, dressed like a woman, would tell the barber to give Lydia a haircut. This was shocking enough but what Timmy didn’t realize until Lydia told him was that since Timmy was dressed like the parent, Timmy would have to drive the car. Timmy of course didn’t know how to drive but Lydia was going to start to teach him. Never in Timmy’s wildest dreams did he think that he would be driving. When Timmy was finished dressing, Lydia put Timmy’s new contacts into his eyes and then she went to give him an expert makeup job. Timmy had done the basics of foundation and blush. But now she was going to spend 15 minutes alone working on is eyes. She used many types of makeup. Timmy asked what each one was, but Lydia was in too much of a rush to explain at this time. She told him to just sit there and let her finish the job. When she was done, Timmy was very pretty and passable for a woman. But Lydia didn’t stop there, she added jewelry and other accessories to his look. She even painted his nails and put rings on his fingers. The final touch was that she gave him her purse. She had him stand up for her to look at him. He was perfect. She took out her camera phone and took a picture. Before they left, Lydia made Timmy memorize the story they were going to tell the barber. Lydia was going to butcher her hair with some scissors. Timmy was to tell the barber that Lydia had tried to make his own haircut and so now to fix it they wanted it short and straight and with a part in the side like a little boy’s. Timmy shouldn’t talk much. Once they got there and Timmy told the barber what he wanted he should find a seat, pick up a fashion magazine and sit with his legs crossed. The barber was only three miles away. Timmy drove slowly listening to every word that Lydia had told him. They got out and walked the short distance to the barber’s door. Timmy had had so much practice walking all week that he could do it very naturally. Wearing heels was a good reminder to walk femininely. Once they got into the barber, Lydia was shown to a barber’s chair and Timmy told him what he wanted. It was then that Lydia realized that they had worked upon every part of Timmy’s appearance but they had forgot to do something about his voice. But Timmy’s makeup was so good the barber didn’t notice or if he did he didn’t say anything. Either way, they had brought a picture of what they wanted and the barber set out to work. Timmy did as he was told and found a chair and a suitable magazine and engrossed himself in its pages. Sitting in the barber’s chair the barber started asking Lydia questions. She told him what he wanted to know. She said her name was Timmy that she was ten-years-old, what school she went to and which grade she was in, what her favorite subject was and all of the usual silly questions an adult asks a kid. She didn’t want to talk, but didn’t want to blow her cover so she simply answered all of his questions with the appropriate answer. She didn’t want to rock the boat this was in fact also the first time she was in public with a boy’s identity. Within ten minutes they were done and when Lydia saw her reflection she was about to give a broad smile. But she remembered and stopped herself and gave a toothy grin instead. With the final element in place she could pass as a boy in front of anyone. Timmy paid the barber. Lydia gave Timmy a look to remind him to give the barber a tip which he did and then they left. Timmy expected them to go straight back home, but Lydia had another idea. Before heading home they got Timmy’s ears pierced and bought some very pretty dangling earrings to go in the new holes. This was the final completion of Timmy’s outfit. This time when asking for what he wanted at Lydia’s suggestion, Timmy talked in a slightly lower register giving his voice less of a boyish quality. This would be another thing they would have to practice when they got home. When they finally got home, they didn’t practice anything. They just took lots and lots of pictures of each other in various poses and locations. They took picture of each of them doing many different things. All age and gender appropriate for how they were dressed. The one constant for all the pictures were the broad smile on Timmy’s face than the toothy grin on Lydia’s face. They had a ball. Lydia suggested that tomorrow they should go to the park. Timmy thought that was a great idea. Lydia wanted to finally play with other kids and Timmy couldn’t wait to drive again. After dinner they both retired to their own rooms to do their own things. Lydia played video games and Timmy watched a chick-flick on TV. Sunday morning both Lydia and Timmy got up early. Lydia had planned a big day for them that she told Timmy of the night before. Timmy went to the kitchen to make breakfast for them and Lydia went to the computer to look at the photos she took the day before. She was looking at one picture in particular of herself and Timmy. There she was with her new hair cut and glasses with a silly grin on her face. She was wearing a t-shirt that was too big for her and jeans. White socks and sneakers completed her outfit. She looked every bit the little boy she was trying to portray. Standing next to her and smiling was her son. Wearing three inch heels, he appeared taller than she was. The hair that framed his pretty face had a sophisticated style. His sparkling eyes were framed by pretty brows. The expert application of eye shadow, eye liner, rouge and mascara gave his eyes a deep penetrating look. Lipstick gave his lips a full pouty appearance. The overall appearance of his face gave him the youthful look of a woman in her mid-twenties. His understated, conservative apparel hinted at a woman in here mid-thirties though. He wore a knit top with lace accents. The ruching around his chest highlighted his small but perky breasts to great effect. The top came down over a full a-line skirt. A broad belt highlighted his narrow waist which was contrasted with the fullness of the skirt around his hips and the subtle narrowing as the skirt descending to just above his knee. Nude pantyhose covered his legs down to his feet. On which he wore peep-toed pumps with a three inch heel. He was very, very pretty and Lydia could not be prouder of him. Timmy called Lydia to breakfast. She had her usual cereal and he had some coffee with toast with a little bit of strawberry jam. After they finished eating, they both went up to get changed for the day. Today would be the first time that both of them would wear their ‘transvestite’ clothing from waking up in the morning to going to sleep at night although neither of them thought of themselves as transvestites. Lydia changed quickly into her daytime apparel of jeans and t-shirts. Timmy knew all too well as all women do that it takes longer for him to get dressed than a typical boy or even a man. After looking at the pictures some more, Lydia entered Timmy’s room to help with his makeup and give some more lessons. There was so much to learn in this area that she spoon fed him a little at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed even though he wanted to learn it all at once. She also taught him some of the finer points of jewelry and accessories. She taught him how to mix and match his jewelry as well as how to make it all fit into his overall fashion statement. She had even had him wear her wedding and engagement rings. Timmy drove them to a park that was several miles away so they wouldn’t run into anyone they knew. At the park, Lydia told Timmy to sit on a bench and read a book once she found a boy to play with. She told him that wearing her wedding ring would keep men away from him. But if a woman wanted to talk he should do so. Lydia expected this to happen since someone had to be watching the boys she was going to play with. Lydia told him, if he started to feel uncomfortable to simply tell the woman he had to go and get her. Both Lydia and Timmy were terrified and excited at the same time. Lydia reminded Timmy to use his ‘womanly’ voice. Within no time Lydia had found a boy about Timmy’s age and they began to play. The mother of the boy was sitting at a bench and so Timmy joined her. The woman began to chat with Timmy. Timmy found that all he could say were sounds of agreement, such as yes, uh huh and OK. She went on and on about this and that. Even though he didn’t say much Timmy’s confidence grew as he realized that this woman thought of him as a woman like herself and as an equal. Lydia found the boy she was playing with to be rude and aggressive. He tried to dominate the play at every turn. Lydia didn’t like and it got worse. Finally, the boy pushed her and she got so incensed that she threw him to the ground. Then she jumped on him to stop him from getting up. Timmy and the boy’s mom rushed to the ‘boys’ and broke up the fight. When it was all over the boy got up smiling and patted affectionately Lydia’s back. It seems that standing up for herself had gained the boys respect. Lydia learned that day that playing as boys was all about establishing their place. That you have to fight to be included. Playing nice is for girls and she wasn’t going to be a girl. She knew that next time she wouldn’t play nicely as girls do, if she wants to be a boy she’d have to play like one. Next time things were going to be different. Hopefully she could make a friend next time without having to pick a fight with him first. Next stop was lunch. Lydia had one of the kiddie meals and Timmy had a sandwich with coffee. Timmy could sit as demurely as he wanted and no one gave it a second look. He even read his romance novel while eating. Lydia played with an action figure. She created all sorts of imaginary adventures and made a mess at the table. She got so into her role that Timmy had to actually scold Lydia in public. He actually took away her action figure and raised his voice and told her to settle down and eat. They both got a big kick out of this exchange when they later discussed it on the way to the real estate office. For the rest of the day, Lydia and Timmy were escorted by a real estate agent throughout the area looking for apartments. The agent drove them around showing them apartment after apartment. Timmy asked all the usual questions and followup questions. After each apartment he would ask Lydia what she thought and Lydia would usually give a childish answer no matter what she really thought. Playing grown-up and child was a great deal of fun for both of them. After the last apartment was shown, Timmy told the agent that he would be in touch and they returned to their car and drove home. When they got home, Timmy’s feet were killing him so he took off his heels as soon as he got in the door. He had never done this before. He hadn’t been in heels while walking so much before and while at home he was practicing wearing heels and walking correctly. But he had learned his lesson long ago and so practice time was over and he could walk around as he liked. Even without his heels while dressed up he moved like a proper lady. This didn’t just include his stride. It included all parts of his body. Everything was in sink, hands, wrists, arms, butt, chest and every other part of him. While dressed up it was as natural as breathing now. Timmy taking the initiative told Lydia to go up and play, he would find a cookbook and make dinner. Lydia agreed, but said she would do what used to be Timmy’s usual chores of setting the table, taking out the trash and putting everything in the dishwasher after. Timmy said ‘Deal’ and they went off to do their respective tasks. Timmy and Lydia had come a long way in a week. The new week brought Lydia and Timmy back into their regular pattern. They would get up and return to their true personas and genders for a little while anyway. They were in a morning routine of waking up and Timmy wearing his boy clothes for school and Lydia wearing her own blouses and dresses to run errands and do light house work. While Timmy was out at school, Lydia went to the bank to get some money. She picked up a credit card application while she was there. Once finished with the chores outside the house she returned home and returned to her boy clothes. Once inside the apartment she vacuumed, dusted and did general housework. Then something occurred to her. The clothes she left strewn in the apartment yesterday. She remembered that she was so excited that she hadn’t picked them up. But they were gone. Timmy had picked them up and placed them in the hamper without telling her. He would have never done that before. He took responsibility even though she hadn’t. Lydia decided to take a break at one point and play a video game. She was getting really good at them and they were fun. She was still playing the video game when Timmy returned home from school. Timmy was about to get dressed up when Lydia stopped him. She told him that they needed to do the laundry and that she couldn’t bring the laundry down dressed as she was. Someone from the building was certain to see her. So Lydia suggested that Timmy bring the laundry down and that Lydia would fold the clothes after which used to be one of Timmy’s chores. Lydia had already sorted the clothes and told him to put the sorted clothes in different machines and which setting an quantity of detergent to use. Once he got back, Lydia told Timmy there was one last part to laundry. That was the hand cleaning of delicates such as his bras and panties. There was a week full of these clothes to be hand washed. She showed him how to do it and he finished the job with the rest. Lydia did Timmy’s homework during this time. Lydia didn’t consider it Timmy’s homework any more it was now her homework and from now on she simply thought of it as hers. After finishing the delicates, Timmy went down to the laundry room to move the clothes from the washers to the driers. When he returned Lydia was waiting for him at the dinette table. She beckoned him over. The homework was done and pushed to the side and placed in front of Lydia was a small form. It was a credit card application. We have to fill this out for you. You’ll need a credit card to put down the deposit for the apartment and this will make it easier if we are out and need to buy something. People rarely pay cash for anything expensive anymore. Some people charge everything all the time. They went over the form and Lydia had Timmy fill it out. Most of the questions were easy: name, address, phone number, marital status, do you own or rent your home? Although Lydia reminded Timmy to use her first name not his and he filled in as much as he could. But there was some questions he didn’t know. He knew his mom’s birthday, but he didn’t know the year. He didn’t know her social security number and he didn’t know any of her financial information. Lydia went over each question of the form with Timmy. She made sure that Timmy memorized the important information, her date of birth and social security number in particular. Then she had Timmy sign her name on the dotted line. He had been practicing every day for a week just for this very occasion. With the signature completed the form was put into its accompanying envelope and Timmy went downstairs to mail the form. Lydia realized how big a step this was for him. For Timmy all of this was one big adventure and that is where the fun lay. He saw his old childish life as silly and boring. But to become an adult was exciting. Whereas, Lydia now saw the responsibilities of being as an adult as one big weight on her. Timmy embraced the challenge of being an adult. Lydia on the other hand just wanted the simplicity of being a little boy. A little boy could just play and be himself and didn’t care much about the repercussions of what he did. That is why they got into trouble more often than girls. But the expression “boys will be boys” meant that whatever they did they could get away with. When Timmy returned from mailing the letter he arrived with the washed laundry in the basket. Lydia didn’t need to remind him. In all the excitement of Timmy getting a credit card she had frankly forgot about the laundry. But she didn’t need to be told, she set upon folding the clean laundry. Timmy took this time to get dressed. He could do it faster now, but it also took more time because there was more to do. Getting dressed didn’t just mean putting on women’s clothes now it also meant makeup and selecting jewelry and accessories. He didn’t completely know every aspect of makeup, but he was getting closer. He knew how to put on foundation, blush and lipstick, but the makeup around his eyes gave him trouble. He could put on one shade on his eyelids, but the blending of colors and the proper use of rouge, eyeliner and mascara he wasn’t sure of. He did the best he could, which was pretty good actually and came down stairs. Lydia was finished folding the clothes. She told him that he had to learn everything about their financial information and all of her financial facts. She left all of her bank books and everything else financial she had including the lease of the apartment and had Timmy study everything. She said that he had to memorize cold the most important information such as her date of birth and social security number. But then she said half jokingly since you know all about my secrets I want to know one of yours? What she wanted to know was what was the password to the video game she had been playing. With the password she could log onto the internet and play the game with other boys. Playing alone was fun but she craved the interaction with boys. Timmy gave her the password and Lydia went to her room to play. While Timmy was looking over the documents and Lydia was playing the phone rang. It was one of Lydia’s friends. Timmy told his mom but she was having so much fun and interacting so well with the other boys that she thought this would be best if Timmy talked to her friends. If she could be a boy online with Timmy’s friends, Timmy could be her on the phone. Lydia reminded him to use his adult voice and to talk with the caller. Timmy thought this was a great idea too and picked up the phone and started talking with Lydia’s friend. It was easier than he had thought. He had been engrossed in Lydia’s life for a while now. Wearing ‘her clothes’, watching her TV programs and in general doing womanly things. It was to the point that either he could add to the conversation or fake it. The caller told him neighborhood gossip. Timmy didn’t have much of his own, except there was this one thing that no one knew because he had heard it from the son of one of the neighbors. He scooped everyone about the up coming divorce of one of the neighbors. They were on the phone for over a half an hour and the caller never expected that anything was wrong. After the phone call, Timmy went up to his room and started to watch a soap that the caller had mentioned. With some of the back ground of what had happened and the obvious interest of Lydia’s friends (well at least one friend.) The story held even more interest than before. During the rest of the afternoon, Timmy watched the woman’s shows on TV and Lydia spent the time playing video games with pre-teens. Both had become very comfortable with their new friends. That night, Timmy had added a new step to his routine. He now washed out his delicates by hand and hung them to dry overnight. When Timmy got home after school the next day, Lydia told him to get dressed up and try and look his best. When he was done, Lydia praised his choices but helped to make his makeup look more sophisticated. Today was going to be one of the most important days in their transition. Today, Timmy was going to the DMV to get a driver’s license. Lydia knew how important this was. This would be the first time that Timmy would have a government issued document with his real picture and ‘signature’ but her name and date of birth. With this one document it opened up a whole host of opportunities. He already applied for a credit card that was a first step, but that didn’t have a picture ID. With a driver’s license he could get other forms of ID like a passport or he could open a bank account. There would be nothing he couldn’t do. Lydia was nervous, she knew what trouble they could get in. So she downplayed the importance for Timmy. She simply told him that since he was going to drive he would need a driver’s license with his picture on it, in case they got into an accident or was stopped by the police. Lydia’s plan was simple. She already has a driver’s license. She would have Timmy go to the DMV and tell them he lost it. She would have him show the clerk all of his supporting documentation, well Lydia’s documentation anyway. Such as her birth certificate, social security card, a credit card bill and a phone bill to prove residence. He knew all of her information, he shouldn’t have too much trouble. If they checked the picture on the old license, he was her son he did look like her, especially made up. Timmy was excited. Every boy wants a driver’s license. While driving to the DMV, Lydia quizzed him on the facts of her life. Where she was born, how old she was, anything she could think of. Timmy answered all her questions correctly without hesitation. Lydia started to really believe they could pull it off. She had a thought back in her mind that if Timmy couldn’t answer her questions she could abort the project. When they entered the DMV that they talked to the clerk at the information desk. Timmy simply told the man that he had lost his driver’s license and needed another. The man gave him a form to fill out and told him to wait on the line to take a picture. Lydia was counting on them insisting she take a new picture. In her state, since you didn’t have to go to the DMV all the time, they wanted the most recent picture possible on all licenses and so they always took a picture and used the newest one on all forms of ID. Timmy smiled when they took his picture. It was probably one of the prettiest ID pictures taken that day. Timmy filled out the form. Lydia was so very nervous, but she occupied herself playing with an action figure. The nervousness actually gave her a slightly frantic look which made her seem even more boyish...if that was possible. Once the form was filled out, Lydia says “Lemme see.” in her best little boy voice. Timmy handed her the form. She looked it over carefully but tried to look like she was just playing with it. It looked just fine. They waited for their number to be called. Timmy was so excited he couldn’t concentrate on the romance novel he brought with him. Lydia was so nervous it actually made her play look more authentic. Finally, they number was called and their walked up to the counter. Timmy wouldn’t have to take a driver’s test this was just replacing a lost license, but they did make him take an eye test although they did note on his form that he wore corrective lenses. The clerk asked him some questions and Timmy answered just fine. When he was asked what happened to his previous license he told the cover story that Lydia made up perfectly. Lastly he had to sign several pieces of paper in front of the clerk, which he did. After paying the clerk the required fee, the clerk handed Timmy his new temporary license and told him he would receive the new one in ten days to two weeks. Timmy said thank you and they left. The clerk didn’t comment on how nervous Lydia looked. It was no concern of the clerk. The woman was getting the license not the little boy. It was getting late and Lydia was so relieved she suggested they have dinner out. They found an Applebees and ate there. Now that all the excitement was over they could talk reasonably. What they talked about was the conversations they had had the day before. Timmy told Lydia about what he and her friend had talked about. And Lydia told Timmy about what was said on-line during the video game. They both did fine, but each had told the other what to do better next time. They drove home in silence. Lydia knew that Timmy had passed a major milestone. He was already accepted as an adult by normal people, but with a picture ID he was also recognized legally too. Once he got the non-temporary driver’s license along with the other documents he had in his possession he could do anything she could do. He was in many ways officially her. Lydia realized that he wouldn’t truly be him until she was enrolled in school and sitting in class with all the other children. That was her final test and in about seven weeks it would happen. She sighed to herself.
  4. There is a best buy commercial that is out that I see all the time. It's a bunch of quick cuts of what a person's gift will do for the person receiving the gift. The commercial is called "What will your gift do?" This is a parody of that commercial. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Catchy music plays uninterrupted through out commercial. Scene: A woman in her fourties standing next to a young baby in a crib in a baby nursery. Woman: “My gift turned my spoiled brat seventeen-year-old daughter back into a sweet seventeen-month-old baby.” Action: Woman reaches into the crib and picks up the baby. The baby fusses a little bit. The woman raises the baby over her head and then brings the baby down until the baby and the woman’s nose touch. Woman says in a sing song voice reserved for talking to babies: “And you will stay a baby until you learn to become a caring, sharing and empathetic person.” Cut to scene two: A man and a woman in there late twenties in the women’s clothing department in a department store. Woman: “My gift made my husband into my best friend.” Man: “I don’t know what I used to find enjoyable about those boring sports and fishing with the guys. I prefer shopping with my wife and staying home to cuddle and watch a good romance on the TV.” Cut to a split screen of scene three: On the left side: A teenaged girl and boy walking together down a wintery lane. On the right side: An hysterical old woman surrounded by nurses and orderlies. Girl: “My gift swapped the bodies of my cheating bad boy boyfriend with my grandmother in the nursing home.” Boy: “My ‘parents’ love that I am planning to go to college after I graduate. I hope they won’t mind if I bring home one of my male professors home for Christmas dinner.” Elderly woman: “I am not an old woman, my name is!!!!” Action on right side of split screen: Nurse injecting a sedative into the elderly woman’s arm as elderly woman becomes quiet in mid-sentence. Cut to scene four: A hallway in a school building. A nerdy looking guy standing with a hot teenaged girl. The girl is dressed very sensually and she is behind him with her arms around him pressing him into her boobs. Nerdy boy: “My gift turned the school bully into the school slut.” Action: Girl kisses nerdy boy on his neck, leaving smeared lipstick there. Cut to scene five: Two teenaged plus-sized girls in an ice cream shop each with a half finished sundae in front of them. Ashley: “My gift gave me back my best friend.” Jennifer: “I prefer spending time having a snack with my Ashley rather than being thin and having to hang out with all those popular girls who only care about being thin and talking to boys that care more about getting into your pants and talking about sports than to having an exclusive relationship.” Action: Ashley stuffs a spoonful of ice cream into Jennifer’s mouth after Jennifer finishes speaking. Wash into scene six: See an old man wearing bathrobe inside of a shop which contains many occult objects and bottles. A ‘Spells R Us’ sign is clearly shown behind him. Old man: “What will your gift do? Let me show you how the right gift can make all the difference. Get the right gift and never overpay at Spells R Us.” Action: Camera slowly moves in towards old man’s face. Cutting suddenly at the end to show the ‘Spells R Us’ logo as the old man begins his last sentence. Fin.
  5. How to make a gingerbread stripper (WG, DG, MC) She was an unusual find, a girl with enough power behind her emotions to light up a small town. A beauty both inside and out who refused to drink or smoke because she valued her control too much, Laura was like a unicorn. With her red hair, expressive green eyes, long firm legs, and toned stomach, she had all of the qualities that would make any man crawl over broken glass just to feel the touch of her lips. James wanted her badly. He had wanted her the moment he felt her essence in the coffee shop a month earlier. Through neuro-linguistic programming and a little hypnosis, he had encoded her to want to become a stripper and she “willingly” obliged. She had absolutely no memory of this happening though. One day she was earning her degree in Psychology, the next day she was grinding on men for money. James had convinced her that it was the best idea that she’d ever had. Smart and sexy—he couldn’t wait to make her fully his, but he wanted to break her down slowly until she had absolutely no willpower whatsoever. She went under the guise of Ginger, and spicy she was in her little dominatrix costumes, always with a whip in hand. James enjoyed the illusion of control that he gave her by “letting” her be “dominant” at work. He came in twice a week just to partake in the waves of sadness, arousal, anger, and dissociation that he felt radiating from her. The latter emotion was one that he enjoyed immensely because it allowed him to tap into her mind and mold it into what he wanted her to become. See, James had the ability to not only control minds, but he could also feel the emotions of his victims, which allowed him to manipulate them anyway that he saw fit. Anytime that he felt Ginger dissociate, he would buy lapdances from her and program her. One night he took her into the backroom and suggested many ways in which she may enjoy her job more: “Ginger, you like drinking alcohol, right?” “Not really, but would you like me to enjoy it?” Ginger asked. Her eyes were glazed over, which meant she was fully in a hypnotic state. She had no opinion of her own—he had made sure of that the first time he ever talked to her—she was to take orders from him and him alone. “Yes, Ginger, I think that you need it to function at your job. In fact, next time I come in here, I want you to be drunk. Do you understand me, Ginger?” “Yes, Master,” she sighed as she gyrated on his lap. “I’ve put five bottles of Hot Damn 100 proof in this bag. You will drink nothing else. I want them to be empty when I come in here next. You will finish them. Do not pour them down the drain. Bring the finished bottles to me.” “Yes, sir,” she said. “As time goes on, you will find that you can’t go through a day without being drunk. Now, tell me, Ginger, do you workout?” “Of course I do, Master; it’s how I stay in such good shape,” Ginger said with a tipsy giggle. “Anytime that you feel the urge to work out, you’ll drink four shots of Hot Damn and have four hits of marijuana from the bag of joints that I’ve included in your little goody bag. Is that clear?” James asked with a wry smile on his face. This was going to be a lot of fun. “Yes, Master, but isn’t that going to make me fat?” Ginger asked with no emotion. His demands were just bringing out natural fears that were stored in the back of her mind. “Yes, Ginger, you’re going to get fat. I want to watch you as you grow. I want to be here the day that your manager humiliates you when he tells you that you’re getting to heavy to be a stripper,” James said with a chuckle. His erection was pulsing through his pants as Ginger put her perky breasts in his face. “But, Master, I don’t want to get fat,” Ginger said as she rubbed her perfect ass against his lap. “Oh, don’t worry, my pet. You’re going to find that you’re simultaneously embarrassed and turned on every time you stuff you belly, which you’re going to find yourself doing every time you get high instead of working out. I’ve included $1000 that you’ll feel compelled to spend on the most fattening food you can find. You’ll purposefully look at the nutrition facts and choose the most calorie rich foods you can find; it’ll become an obsession for you. Of course, you’ll be too drunk to realize that your clothes are getting too tight. The only time you’re allowed to be sober is when you go to the grocery store. Have I made myself clear?” “Yes, Master,” Ginger said. “Tell me you want to be fat,” James said. “I want to be fat, Master. It’d turn me on so much to stuff my belly for you until I can’t fit into my clothes,” Ginger said. She started to blush and grind harder against his lap. The bouncer looked in through the window of the private dance area and frowned. “Cum for me, my pet. Stick out your belly as far as it’ll go and rub it as you cum. Pretend that you’re stuffed with chocolate cake.” “Mmmmm, oh god,” Ginger said as she stuck out her tiny belly as far as it would go. Her hips buckled as she orgasmed. “That’s a good pet. Now, you will forget everything that I’ve told you tonight. Go get cleaned up and eat the two Big Macs that I bought for you. Eat them in the bathroom so no one will see you gorging. I don’t want anyone to know our little secret yet, my dear. You’ll feel so much better when you’re full.” “Yes, Master. I’m starving,” Ginger said. “I know you are, my pet. Now snap out of it,” James said Ginger collected the money and plastic bag from James as she put her short red dress on. He also handed her a McDonald’s bag that stopped her in her tracks. “Are you sure this food is from McDonald’s?” Ginger asked incredulously. “I swear you’ve given me a steak. This is the best food I’ve ever smelled in my life. Normally I try to stay away from fast food, but I’m starving.” “Enjoy it, Ginger. I’ll see you soon. Have a great night,” James said as he walked out of the private dance area and smiled menacingly. Ginger found herself hurrying to the bathroom with all of her goodies as fast as her stiletto heeled feet would take her; it was the most important thing that she would do at work that night, but she didn’t know why. As she locked herself in a stall, Ginger reached into the greasy bag and pulled out one of the Big Macs. The meat and cheese coated her tongue in a feeling so euphoric that she actually started moaning and laughing as she stuffed the sandwich inside of her mouth. With each bite, she found herself growing wetter and wetter, until she couldn’t take it and shoved her fingers inside of her gstring to pleasure herself. By the end of the second Big Mac her little stomach was pushed out further than when she tried to stick it out for James. Tangy sauce fell onto her c cup breasts, which made her nipples stiffen. She felt embarrassed by her gluttony as she crammed her two-hundredth French fry down her throat; it was enough to send her over the edge. Luckily, her screams of ecstasy were drowned out by the sounds of “Turn Down for What?” being blared over the loudspeaker. “Let’s give it up for the lovely Chrissy, everyone,” the DJ said over the loudspeaker. “Next up we have the gorgeous Ginger.” “Oh no,” Ginger said as she tried in vain to wipe the ketchup and special sauce from her face, tits, and dress. Grease was all over her mouth and hands. As she scrubbed at the stubborn stain, she realized that her belly was protruding like she had swallowed a bowling ball. “How am I ever going to dance like this?” She sluggishly walked up to the stage while rubbing her tummy. Six men from different walks of life were sitting at her stage. “Playing with Dolls” by Slayer played as she started slowly swaying her hip back and forth. “When are ya due, Honey?” One of the men in a cowboy hat asked her as he put a five dollar bill on the stage. “I’m not pregnant,” Ginger said as she lay down on her back and spread her legs. She was offended, but felt that similar tingle begin in between her legs. “Shucks, Honey, you got a big ol’ belly then, dontcha?” He asked snidely and his friends snickered. “Gimme back my five dollars. I ain’t payin’ for no piggy to dance for me. What, did you stuff your face before you got on stage?” Ginger didn’t know how to feel. She started crying as she struggled to get back to her feet. The cowboy and his two friends left her stage leaving her with a couple of men in their late forties and a guy who looked like he’d been drinking since last New Year’s Eve. “There isn’t anything wrong with a girl who likes to eat. You’re thin everywhere else. I think it’s sexy that you’re a little full,” said one of the middle aged men in a polo shirt as he put a twenty-dollar bill on stage. “Aw, thanks. You’re the best,” Ginger said as she put her boobs in his face. She felt her belly rub up against his chest and it gave her goosebumps. As “A Tout La Monde” by Megadeath faded into the ether, Ginger left the stage and went straight to the dressing room to take three shots of Hot Damn to take the edge off. It was a good thing that her shift was over for the night so she could go home and pass out. She cradled her stuffed belly as she squeezed into her jeans—they wouldn’t button, so she just covered up with her sweatshirt and called it good. ——————————————————————————————————————— Sunlight filtered through the crack between the black curtains in Ginger’s bedroom at 9 am, but she paid no mind to the UV rays because she was passed out cold from drinking one of the bottles of Hot Damn the night before. Usually, Ginger sprang out of bed like a lioness chasing a gazelle as she threw on workout clothes and did her normal P90x routine, but today the only motion going on in her house was the steady snoring of the hungover. At noon, Ginger groggily reached out for her iphone and started perusing Facebook. A Buzzfeed Tasty video for “How to make Biscuits and Gravy Casserole” caught her eye and she felt a warm rivulet of drool slide down her cheek. Brushing away the saliva, she questioned her pavlovian response. “Last night was rough. I need to work off those Big Macs and all of that alcohol,” she said out loud to her dog Lydia. Lydia replied with a wag of her yellow lab tail and licked Ginger’s hand encouragingly. “Thanks, buddy,” she said as she pulled on her running tights and squirmed into her sports bra. As Ginger walked up to the white double doors to go for a run, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion crept in and she walked over to the couch and absentmindedly pulled out the bag that James had brought. Four shots of Hot Damn and four hits of Chem Dawg marijuana later, Ginger felt giddy and hungry. Opening her pantry, Ginger sighed as she surveyed the contents of each shelf. “Quinoa, granola, rice, saltines, black beans, and beggin’ strips…Damn, I don’t like to buy anything exciting, do I? You’re the only one who gets anything flavorful here,” she said, petting Lydia’s fuzzy head. A Fat Shack menu was on the refrigerator as a joke because she went there once with her boyfriend and thought it was disgusting, but today it seemed like the perfect choice. Ginger picked up her phone and dialed. As soon as she heard the words “Fat Shack, how may I help you,” come from the other end, Ginger felt like she was entering a trance. “Hello, can I get a large Fat Slob, a large Fat Cow, an order of jalapeno poppers, and a milkshake, please?” Ginger asked. The Fat Slob sandwich had cheesesteak, chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, French fries, ketchup, and mayonnaise on it. The Fat Cow sandwich had macaroni and cheese, bacon, French fries, mozzarella sticks, and buffalo ranch. She had never ordered that much food for herself in her life, but felt a growing sense of excitement and warmth fill her body. Twenty minutes later, her food arrived, and Ginger had consumed three more shots of Hot Damn, and finished off the rest of the joint. She stumbled to the door, grabbed her food, paid, and kissed the cheek of the bewildered deliveryman. Opening the steaming Styrofoam container made her nipples stiffen. As Ginger calculated how many calories had to be in everything, she began rubbing her clit through her running tights; it felt as though her hand wasn’t her own. Mouthful after mouthful went into her gaping maw as she intermittently let out little moans of excitement. Her belly pushed out painfully by the time she was done with her food orgy, and she had managed to give herself three orgasms. Exhausted, high, drunk, and full, Ginger put on some "Adventure Time" and mindlessly rubbed her belly until she fell asleep. The next couple of days that Ginger had off from work went by in a haze of binge-eating, alcohol, and weed. In between drunkenness, she managed to make it to King Soopers and spent two hours loading up her cart with the most fattening foods she could find. Customers looked at the bloated girl strangely as she compared items and talked to herself about their caloric content. “Mmmm, these cookies have 400 calories per serving, while these only have 300, but the devil’s food cake cookies have high fructose corn syrup, 50% of my recommended dose of saturated fat, and 600 calories per serving. Devil’s food cake it is,” she said as she tossed her treasure into the cart. Obsessively, she kept track of serving sizes in her calculator, and she added up caloric content per day based on the items she purchased. 7500 calories a day is what she averaged in her mind. “There are 3500 calories in a stored pound. If I get 7500 a day, I can gain 2 pounds a day.” The thought made her panties soaked in the frozen food aisle, and it took everything in her power not to play with herself right then and there. When she grabbed a container of weight gain formula, she shuddered and sighed. A little voice in her head was panicking about the thought of getting fat, but James’s programming made it seem like little more than a whisper.
  6. Anonymous

    Visa H1B (dg,mc) by JSMT

    Visa H1B (dg,mc) I have not posted anything in this site for a very long time. I hope somebody likes this little story (If you do, I will appreciate your comments). Please remember to have a little patience as English is not my native language. If you like the dg aspect of my stories, my (almost) complete archive is at http://www.asstr.org/~jsmt/ there are a few stories not published at vesanis which in a sense also portray transformations, they don't include magic, or weird science, but simply women falling to their own desires and taking the wrong decisions. Visa H1B (dg,mc) Part 1 Layla checked her watch for the eleventh time, she felt anxious. She wanted to apply to an H-1B (professional worker ) visa for the USA. She reviewed her folder again, she had covered every single requisite. She was carrying her Ireland passport, a carefully filled application, and her College title. The visa required her to have a bachelor degree. The folder contained also the certificated job offer that she received from an American company, she even carried her high school certificate, just in case. If everything worked fine, in a couple of weeks she was going to be working as a network security expert at Los Angeles. She would have wanted to remain in her country, but she could not find a job there. The scarce qualified jobs were given to people with a lot of experience. With the rampant unemployment, companies could afford experienced workers even for entry level positions. So the 25 years old girl had been working as a waitress since she graduated almost a year ago. This was the chance to get the life that she deserved. “Next”, the clerk of the American consulate called the woman in front of her. Layla looked at her watch. “4:35pm”, she thought, “if this woman doesn’t hurry, I won’t probably have a chance to present my application, and I would have to wait until Monday” The woman before her was a girl, maybe of Layla’s age; she seemed of an African or caribean origin. She was dressed in a form-fitting bright yellow dress that was way too short for Layla’s tastes. She was wearing high heeled sandals that made her look even cheaper. Multiple and colorful shinny bracelets adorned both of her hands and she wore also a couple of anklets on her left foot. The cheap jewelry was made of some metal because it clinked with every step she made. She was escorted by a robust woman, dressed in a long brown dress with some ethnic patterns engraved in black and gold. The older woman talked “Listen ma’am. My niece wants to apply for a worker visa for the states”, she talked out loud, as if the clerk was deaf or something. She had a strong accent. “Yes ma’am. We are receiving applications for specialized jobs”, she said politely, even when none of the black women looked like educated people, the fact that the young one was chewing bubble gum didn’t help her case. The young black woman was looking elsewhere, as she was bored to be there instead of doing a process that could change her life. “Yes that’s what my niece wants” “Ok, did you bring your job offer?” “No”, said the young woman that talked for the first time. The clerk was about to dismiss them, but for some strange reason she wanted to be kind and orientate those people. “Listen… Marcia”, she said reading her name from the just partially filled application. “Do you have a Bachelor degree?” “A barcheelor what?” The clerk smiled, and said, “What did you study?” “Ah… I almost started high school” Layla rolled her eyes, “these morons are consuming precious time for nothing” “I see”, said the clerk, “well, for this visa, you need a College degree, and a job offer from a company in the USA…” And the clerk started explaining every single option that they could recur to enter the USA legally. Normally a clerk would have dismissed them immediately, but for some reason this one felt compelled to answer every dumb question that the older woman made. “Thank you ma’am, “ said the aunt with a sincere smile, “We will come back soon” “Of course, anytime”, said the clerk, then turning to Layla she said, “Sorry ma’am, the system is already closed, come again next week”. And with that she stood up and walked out of the office leaving a stunned Layla behind. Layla walked out of the building, she was fuming. She saw Marcia and her aunt walking just a few yards outside the consulate door, they were talking about returning the next Monday, and she couldn’t resist anymore. “Can’t you see that you don’t have anything that is required for that visa? you morons.” The aunt turned to see Layla. Her eyes reflecting that she was surprised and hurt, but the blonde woman was blinded by her rage. “What does make you think that you could apply? Those visas are for highly technical jobs, not for strippers or whores, if you return on Monday you will only make us all lose our time” Layla regretted her outburst, but she comforted herself thinking, “They deserved it, and somebody had to help them put the feet on the ground and stop dreaming the impossible” “What?, we are no whores. What about you?”, said the aunt, now visually pissed. Layla felt a bit intimidated, but she was too angry to stop, “Of course not. I am a highly trained computer security expert, and I am certainly don’t dress like a slut as your niece there.” “Are you saying that you are so much better than my niece?” “Isn’t it obvious?”, she replied angry, “come on, look at her, she is not only ignorant, but she comes to apply in a dress shorter than my shortest party dress” “Oh, so only your nice clothes and your college degree makes you superior to Marcia?” “Only?” Layla thought, and was about to snap with a sharp response, when she suddenly felt a bit ditzy and confused. There was something in the older woman’s dark brown eyes, and in the way she constantly rubbed the cheap blue crystal in her pendant that made hard for Layla to think. For a moment she cached a glow in it, which made her lost her train of thought. Layla made an effort to concentrate and managed to say, “Yes, Only that”, “We can fix that…. What is your name missy?” “Layla”, she replied without thinking. “I am Wilma, and my niece is” “Marcia”, interrupted Layla, “Listen, I need to go” “No Layla, we have things to fix, take us to your place. Do you have a computer there?” “Yes, I have one”, she wanted to say her to go to hell or something; instead she started walking towards her apartment. It was just a 20 minute walk but it was unnerving. She felt very apprehensive, she was usually an assertive girl, but every time she tried to stand against Wilma, she felt Wilma’s sight overwhelming, so she end up meekly looking at her own shoes, her voice an inaudible whisper that Wilma showed no interest in decipher. Her apartment was pretty modest. She couldn’t afford any better with her waitress wage, but once she’d go to America, she was going to really improve her way of living, and would have the kind of little luxuries that she deserved. The trio sat at the kitchen table and Layla turned on her laptop as instructed by Wilma. “Let’s start fixing the problem” Layla looked at Wilma puzzled. “You need to hack your college server and change your records so they have now the name of Marcia Rivers” “I can’t do that,” she said, “That is a pretty stupid thing to do, and I am not even such a good hacker to be able to do that, it would take me days, probably weeks to enter my college servers, and most attack schemas would require people inside their network opening an infected email, and…” She felt completely afraid, she realized that even as she was talking, she was typing furiously, attempting every single attack that she knew of. She couldn’t believe she was really trying to hack into her college servers! “Fortunately, it is not that easy”, she thought trying to reassure herself, as she franticly typed commands in her computer and started running many bots at the same time, and then she had an epiphany and enthusiastically started making a little program that soon have broken into the server. She felt a wave of proud at her accomplishment, but then remembered the objective and felt a shiver down her spine. She quickly located her expedient in the college databases and started replacing her name with Marcia’s in every single place. She was blushing bright red, but oddly she was getting wet. “Very good Layla”, said Wilma in a very condescending tone, “You should now do the same with your high school record, better safe than sorry” Layla turned to see Wilma, “Please ma’am, I am sorry, please stop”, she said as her body and mind started trying to crack the problem of hacking into her high school site. “I’d stop you, but you really WANT to do this, don’t you?”, said Wilma while rubbing her pendant and making it glow. She bit her lower lip, and didn’t answer but continued working and in just a few minutes she had managed to hack into her high school computers and change the records. She felt a stronger tingle in her pussy. “Very good Layla, Now Marcia have a degree and you don’t” She must have kept her mouth shut, but for some reason she felt compelled to tell the truth. It was as if she really wanted that Marcia had a degree and she didn’t. “No, ma’am, there are still the government records…” 40 minutes later she had changed every single record in every possible server. “So there is now nothing to prove that you are a college graduate” “There are copies of my documents, and certifications in my computer, and I have the originals here in these folders” “Send your computer copies to my niece email, so she could forge some copies with her own name, and then erase them definitely from your computer”, she complied in a daze feeling more and more turned on. “Now use this scissors to cut your originals into little pieces” “Ma’am please… “, she said, but unable to stop herself she started cutting her certificates into the littlest possible pieces. She was now almost hyperventilating. She had no way to prove that she studied, she couldn’t even prove that she studied high school; her planned trip to the USA was crumbling. Layla was trembling with fear, and overwhelmed by her odd arousal. “Very good Layla”, said Wilma in a condescending tone, “Now we got the problem of the clothes” “Clothes…” Repeated Layla mesmerized. “Yes Layla, you better give your wardrobe to Marcia, I know you want her to have it, don’t you?” She merely nodded, but seeing Wilma’s stern waiting face she said out loud. “Marcia, you may take any clothes you like, there are a couple of big suitcases in the closet” She was nervous, most of her clothes were irreplaceable. They were expensive outfits that she had from before the crisis crushed her parents’ company. She had a lot of designer clothes, even elegant dresses that once belonged to her mother. Her only hope was that Marcia, having such a bad taste in clothes, skipped the nice outfits and went for the cheapest. But she saw with apprehension that Marcia wasn’t selecting. She was simply packing ALL of her clothes. She was putting everything that Layla possessed in the suitcases, even her underwear. Marcia even recurred to a couple of trash bags to pack the rest of Layla’s clothes and shoes. Layla blushed seeing how all of her clothes were now packed in the living room. “I think Marcia is missing an outfit”, said Wilma, and Layla turned to see her in panic. “but… but.. it is the only one…” “I know, and you want Marcia to have it, don’t you” She didn’t, or so she thought, but her hands were already unbuttoning her blue blazer. She was wearing a business outfit, she had wanted to make a very good impression on the consulate looking neat and professional. She also knew that without the right clothes, her young looking face and slender figure made her look like a teenager. After ditching her blazer, shoes and pantyhose she turned to see Wilma with begging eyes, but she only chuckled, and Layla couldn’t stop herself until she was fully nude. Layla was completely embarrassed and tried to cover her blushing nude body with her hands. “Embarrassed?”, said Wilma She shyly nodded. “And you should be, specially when being naked among fully clothed people arouses you so much” A wave of arousal hit Layla and she felt even more embarrassed as her horniness was clearly visible. “but you secretly want people to see your ‘bits’ so you don’t cover them, even when it is extremely embarrassing to show them your body so blatantly” Layla dropped her hands by her side; she was blushing bright red, the embarrassment was almost too much, but the idea of those fully clothed women seeing her painfully erect nipples and her swollen and wet labia was turning her on like she had never been in her entire life. “That is why, from now on you will only buy or wear clothes that show at least a glimpse of your bits. You know underwear only gets in the way, so from now on you won’t use it, and you will try to have your clothes as skimpy as possible, in the border of illegal. I think that shorts and mini skirts, combined with tank tops or halter blouses that show your elbows and navel would conform your new wardrobe. Winters are going to be a little though for you”, Wilma chuckled. Layla shivered while picturing herself in such revealing outfits. “But those clothes would be inappropriate for many situations”, Layla managed to say. “You are right, as a matter of fact, they would be inappropriate for most situations, but you know that the more inappropriate your outfit is for a particular occasion, the more a turn on it is for you to be dressed like that” Layla knew. Somehow she knew it was true. “But people will think that I am a slut”, Layla whined with genuine concern. “I know you are not a slut, but that is why it is such a turn on for you that people could think you are a slut. It is so humiliating, and humiliation turns you on a lot, doesn’t it” “Yes”, she whispered. “As a matter of fact, you crave humiliation, it is so arousing. I bet you wish now that I humiliate you even more, don’t you?” She merely nodded, she was visibly trembling now. “But I don’t know how ,” said Wilma, “Maybe you can tell me. What would be more humiliating for you than your current situation” Layla blushed, and tried to remain quiet. She was showing more willpower than Wilma thought possible, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Layla knew her goals have been taken down several notches, but she was still hopeful of improving over her waitress job. Layla knew that now her only possibility to make a living was to work from home. She won’t be able to work for the big names without any legal probe of her studies, and with her new clothing compulsions, but with some luck she could turn into some kind of freelance or subcontractor, a hacker for hire in the internet. Wilma waited patiently as Layla struggled with all her might trying to keep herself quiet, but then decided to give her a push. Layla, I want you to bend over the kitchen table, and show us your wet snatch while you write your ideas in a paper. Layla complied blushing even redder. She knew she shouldn’t do it, she wasn’t even ordered to do it, but she put each feet in the outer part of the corresponding table leg, so she was wide open, showing her ass and pussy. She wrote her idea in a piece of paper, while Marcia and Wilma laughed. She couldn’t resist anymore and reached back to put the paper slip on the small of her back. “Do you want me to read it Layla?” “Yes ma’am” Wilma read it out loud, “The most humiliating thing would be that Marcia had not only my degrees, but my college and high school knowledge” Layla blushed deeply, she didn’t believe that Wilma could do that, still she was pretty afraid. “Oh, that is a wonderful Idea darling; let’s go back to your computer” Layla sat nervously in front of her laptop while the other pair watched her with glee. Wilma touched the screen a couple of times. Layla was about to tell the moron woman that it wasn’t a touchscreen but suddenly a couple of big folders appeared on her screen, one portrayed her picture, and the other Marcia’s. Instinctively she clicked in each of them and saw several folders inside the one with her photo, the other one had only three. “You know what to do, don’t you?” told her Wilma with a mischievous smile. With trembling hands, Layla dragged the folder named “College” from her folder to Marcia’s one, then did the same with the High School folder. Layla felt a bit ditzy, it was all too surreal. It simply can’t be true, but then Marcia started talking. “Wow, I fell it now aunty. It is all so exciting, I bet I could protect those sites better than this bitch ever did, it is just a matter of designing a more proactive kind of firewall.” Layla was confused how a firewall could protect a computer, it would burn, wouldn’t it? Marcia continued talking excitedly, “and do you remember the movie that we saw last night? It wasn’t an original story, they were simply copying Shakespeare’s Hamlet in a modern context.” Layla felt more and more confused, those names sounded vaguely familiar, but then it hit her. “It really happened!” she realized blushing ashamed of what she just did. “Who is the superior woman now slut” “You are,” said Layla sincerely, but barely whispering, overwhelmed by the humiliation and the arousal. “Layla. Did you notice the trashcan in the lower right corner of the screen?”, said Wilma, amused by the events. Layla looked at the screen an immediately knew what Wilma wanted. She was waiting for an order, or a suggestion, but then realized that Wilma wanted her to do it on her own will. With trembling hands she dragged the folder named “Junior High” to the trashcan. Marcia open laugh only increased her humiliation. Her arousal was at new unprecedented levels. Her nipples were a couple of bullets, and there was a noticeable puddle in the chair between her legs. Layla was mesmerized, she opened the folder named “Elementary” and started dropping folders in the trashcan starting by the sixth grade. Wilma stopped her after she threw away her third grade. “Stop Layla. I don’t want you to turn completely useless” Layla was hooked and turned to see Wilma with begging eyes. “You want more, don’t you?” She nodded, and Marcia giggled. “OK. There is a new waitress in the restaurant that you work, tell me about her” “Yes, she just started today, but I don’t think she is going to last, I was training her, and she didn’t seem to learn much. She is smart but she simply doesn’t pay attention. I even told my boss about it” “Ok, Why don’t you give her all your waitress training and experience, so she doesn’t have trouble tomorrow” A new folder with her coworker picture appeared on the screen. Layla hesitated, she knew she had to hold to that job, because right now she probably won’t be able to get another job like that. “Oh, come on, I know you want to,” said Marcia, “Imagine tomorrow, that lazy bitch staring and shinning in all the processes, while you make a mistake after another, it would lots of fun” The new tease was more than she could resist, so she made the transfer. She couldn’t resist anymore, she started fingering herself shamefully in front of the other women that were laughing and making crude comments about the process. Finally she came like an explosion. Part 2 Monday afternoon Layla was waiting in line inside the US consulate. She was feeling very uncomfortable. She was wearing the blue denim shorts, and the pink tank top that Marcia had given her in exchange for all of her clothes. The garments were skimpy and cheap to begin with, but Layla couldn’t resist to make them even worse. She had cut the shorts until a full couple of inches of her buttocks were uncovered, then she had cut the bottom of the tank top leaving her navel visible, and her now very hard nipples were almost poking thru the thin fabric. Off course she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She was barefoot, and her soles were disgustingly dirty. She had been unable to buy any shoes, maybe it was because Wilma didn’t give her any instructions about them. All in all it make her feel even cheaper. She was fidgeting nervously, she felt completely out of place there dressed as she was. Wilma probably used her magic to “convince” the guard to let her in. Everybody looked at her with disapproving glances, making her feel more insecure and aroused. “I am not a slut, but everybody must think I am”, she thought ashamed, but secretly wished that somebody noticed that the thin fabric between her legs was not enough to fully cover her pussy when she sat with slightly open legs. In front of her was Marcia who was smartly dressed with one of Layla’s business suits, and looked completely relaxed, and self confident. Layla’s insecurity had been fed by the weekend events. First she had made a complete fool of herself in her waitress job. She was the most experienced waitress of the restaurant, but she was having trouble even taking the simplest orders, and was making continuous mistakes in all the process, from greeting the customer to taking the payment. She was performing as the worst waitress ever. It all contrasted with the new recruit that seemed to dominate all the routines to perfection. She tried to ask her coworkers for instructions, but they were very impatient, and she didn’t understand most of their barked instructions; she didn’t know a thing about the restaurant jargon, not to mention that her day to day vocabulary had taken a serious hit with her lost of academic knowledge. Just a couple of hours after her shift started, her boss asked her if she was on drugs or something, and relegated her to do the cleaning of the bathrooms and kitchen instead. Out of pure work pressure, the boss started training the cleaning girl as a waitress, while Layla did the cleaning; she even had to exchange uniforms with the cleaning girl. It was completely devastating for her self-steam, to wear the cleaning girl uniform, and face her smirking coworkers. She had always felt so superior to them, and she never made any effort to hide that fact. She shivered she always hated working as a waitress, even when she knew it was only temporary, but now she felt incompetent even for a job she had always considered as the last refuge for losers. After her shift, she was made to present an exam about the restaurant procedure along with the new trainee, which did perfect, the cleaning girl who barely passed, but showed promise, while she failed in the most disgraceful way, causing her boss to fire her. Fortunately after some shameful begging, and flirting, she managed to get hired again, this time as a cleaning girl, which paid even less, and had not access to tips. She shivered thinking that her boss now expected certain “extra activities” from her, so he can see her value for the company. A woman’s voice startled Layla, taking her out of her painful reveries. “You are next Layla,” said a very smiling Marcia. “I made it!”, she said happily showing her a sealed Passport. A wave of humiliation shook all of Layla’s body, pushing her arousal to new peeks. She meekly approached the window. “Papers”, said the clerk after a dismissive look at Layla. “Here, ma’am”, she answered stammering in a soft, insecure whisper. “What is this? You don’t have any job offers, or any study certificates, your application says that you only studied to second grade. You are wasting my time girl, and you didn’t even filled all the application questions” “I am sorry. I didn’t understand some of the questions, so I let them blank” “Not all, as I see. Some have very dumb answers” Layla blushed. The clerk had been reinforced by Wilma to be merciless, and completely impolite. She sealed her application “REJECTED” and called, “Next” Layla walked out with her eyes cast at the floor. She could hear people mocking her, or snickering with disgust, but the worst was that she knew that is how she is going to spend every Monday (her free day). Wilma had commanded her to return every week and do her best trying to get the visa, of course, she would be rejected time after time, losing the $190 USD cost of the Visa application. It would take a serious part of her scarce income. On her way out of the embassy she found Wilma. “Please ma’am, at least spare me of this visits, I really can’t afford them” “Don’t worry, you can stop paying rent. I bet you can arrange some accommodation with my friend Marco of the Maja’s club” Layla shivered. The Maja club was a low class stripper joint. “Here have his card. You may perform two or three times a week so he can lend you a small room in the back of the local.” Layla nodded mesmerized. The idea of stripping in front of strangers aroused her, but she was afraid of her dancing skills. As if reading her mind, Wilma said, “I know you are insecure about your dancing ability, and your small tits, but you only need to compensate by being bolder, cheaper, and more daring than your fellow dancers” Layla blushed with shame, she would have to be the most perverted of the dancers in order to compensate for her lack of talent. “Maybe your coworkers will try to match you act, but you can always escalate it, can’t you?” Layla merely nodded imagining herself forced to constantly increase the depravation of her show in order to keep her little edge. “Thank you ma’am, but can I stop applying for the visa. It is pointless and…”, she said meekly. “No. I like the idea very much, but let’s make it interesting for you”, she hummed for a couple of minutes like thinking, and then she said. “If you get the visa, you will be again as you were, completely with knowledge and titles,” In spite of the impossibility Layla saw a little glimpse of hope. “…but it has to cost you something, there is nothing free in this life. Let’s say that every time you are rejected, you will lose one month of academic knowledge. ” Epilogue Eight months later, Layla was again in line in the USA embassy. She was dressed in a very short mini skirt that barely covered her pussy when she was standing up, the top was a very used sport bra that was now so thin that it made completely obvious her very erect nipples, its hem was a bit ragged, and it showed just a glimpse of the bottom of her breasts . She was chewing nervously a bubble gum while nervously checking the cracking polish of her red nails and toenails. The bubble gum added to her cheap image, but it was not Wilma doing, she simply had started to chew gum a couple of months ago to cope with the stress, and it had turn into a habit for her to chew constantly and with her mouth open. To complete the trashy look she was barefoot as usual. After a lot of begging Wilma allowed her to wear shoes, but it hasn’t resulted as Layla wanted, because she only could wear them at stage, and only high platform, high heel. If she wanted to wear her “fuck me” shoes outside the stage, she would be compelled to have sex with a different partner for every hour that she wore them. Wilma had helped her to fill her application because she could not longer read or write. “Next!”, called the consulate clerk. A very nervous Layla approached the desk, she knew that it was her last chance, and she was willing to lie to get the visa. “You again?”, said the female clerk with impatience. “Here”, said Layla, ignoring the clerk comment and handing her the application. “See… I am a comput exper and I wana work there in your country”, she said proud of her clever deception. “Oh, I see,” said the clerk amused by the dumb attempt, “and where do you study to be a computer expert?” “ahm… in the classroom”, said Layla. “Ok. And why did you write ‘some preschool’ under education in your application?” Layla blushed bright red, “It was a mistake. I can type in the keyboard like you… I know what all those letters are…” “I see… but you have some work experience, don’t you?” “Yes, I have worked a lot… in offices you know… with computers…” “I see, then why you filled the space of work experience with this: “I worked as a cleaning girl but I was fired because I can’t read or write, now I work as a stripper, and occasionally as a whore. My stage name is Candi” Layla blushed bright red. Wilma was supposed to write what she dictated her, instead she wrote the naked truth. “OK. Candi, don’t come back again or I call the police”, said the clerk while sealing the application “REJECTED”. Layla felt the last vestige of academic education fly away from her mind. On her way out she stumbled into Wilma. “Hi Candi, did you get an approval?” Layla blushed bright red, both at being called Candi and about being rejected again. “No, ma’am,” she said meekly. “Don’t worry today was the last time you had to go there. I am going to America, and I can’t help you with your applications anymore” Layla sighed relieved, at least she would spare that humiliation. “But I will give you a last gift before I am gone,” said Wilma, “what could you wish?” she added, mostly to herself while rummaging and trying to think. Layla fidgeted nervously. “Maybe you want to get back, to be just as you were before we met” Layla nodded enthusiastically. “Or maybe you want more humiliation”, she said. Layla blushed bright red. “I can’t give you both. You have to tell what do you rather like, to return to your former self, or for me to find a way to further humiliate you” Layla was about to talk, but Wilma interrupted her. “Wait. Don’t talk. Before you answer, picture this: You will be compelled to give all your possessions along with any new money that you make, or gifts that you may receive to your fellow strippers; so you will be perennially naked, except for the clothes you wear at stage before stripping, otherwise you will refuse any clothes you are offered, and if that is not enough humiliation for you; you will also be unable to make yourself come by masturbating unless you make someone come first, so if you want release for you constant horniness, you will have to find a willing partner. Imagine: you will be completely dispossessed, you will own absolutely nothing ever, not even a stitch of clothes, and you will be desperate, and eager to do anything just to be allowed to sexually satisfy men and women indistinctly, so you can tame your horniness just for a little while” Layla was bright red, and was almost hyperventilating. Wilma had portrayed a horribly humiliating future for her. She felt very nervous. She wanted to talk and reject it, but she was still waiting for Wilma’s permission. “Layla, take your time to ponder both options. What do you prefer, your old life, or for me to add these new humiliations to your already degraded life as an ignorant horny stripper. You may talk now, but you have to answer with complete honesty.” Layla wished very badly to get back to her old self, she pictured herself as successful computer expert in the USA, and felt very good, but… but when she pondered the other option, she felt the strongest craving of her life. She rationalized that it was an awfully bad decision, but Wilma had asked her to answer honestly what she rather like, not to pick the best option for her. Layla barely whispered her answer, overwhelmed by her emotions. A minute later she found herself naked on the street. Wilma was nowhere to be seen. She felt extremely humiliated by being nude there. She felt the sights of everybody around her, she felt the contempt of the women, and the objectification of men. She felt horny as hell. She bit her lower lip shyly, and ran to the stripper club. She had a faint smile on her face. She decided to get the best of it, after all it was her choice. The End
  7. Mall Daze By Theo Winters (Bimbo, BE, MC)I was in a silly mood tonight, so I thought I would write a quick Bimbo TF story for your enjoyment. Nothing major, just some silly fun. Enjoy! Oh yeah, it's not a furry story this time ——- Mall Daze By Theo Winters Alison walked quickly through the mall, cursing the fact that Ben wanted to meet here of all places. She hated going to the mall, to many preppy girls and fancy clothing hanging off of the local jocks. It made her shyness even worse. Still, she didn't have a choice, after flunking her gym class the only way she could get the passing grade she needed was to tutor someone, and of course it had to be one of the basketball jocks. As she walked she found herself puling her bag to her chest, holding it against her slight belly and under her small chest. The position of her head allowed the bangs of her brown hair to hang down and cover her face, keeping her hidden from the world around her. She heard a few whispers as she walked past some of the other girls from school, making her hunch her shoulders. "Hey Alley cat, do you shop in the dumpsters too?" one of the girls called out. She hunched down more, walking quickly away from them. She hated that nickname, but everyone called her that and they had since second grade. It made her mad, but there wasn't anything she could do about it other than ignoring it. When she looked up again Alison found herself in front of one of the trendy clothing shops that all the hot girls shopped at. Clothing that she could never wear, it would just look terrible on her thin body. Just looking at her own reflection in the glass made her blush. Here she was, thin as a reed with no curves at all and the smallest breast and school. She had a light blue blouse and a jacket with jeans. Clothing that was picked because it fit her, not because it looked good. It was even worse compared to the mannequin behind the glass. She had long legs, wide hips and a large chest, all of it highlighted by a slinky for fitting dress that hugged every curse. Even her hair, big and full, was better than Alison's. She shook her head and was about to walk away from the shop when something beyond the window caught her eye. For a second she thought she saw Mandy, her only friend in middle school, but that couldn't be the case, she had left town years ago. Pulling her book bag tightly to her chest she found herself walking into the store, trying to see if Mandy was really there but she was the only one in the story. She sighed and shook her head, why would she even be in store like this? She was too big for anything in the shop, it wasn't the sort of place that did 'round'. Alison turned around ho leave the store, coming face to face with a sales clerk. She was a top heavy woman with black hair, huge breasts and cute glasses. Her blue eyes flicked over the thin girl before a smile pulled over her full lips. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice sultry. "I'm just… I should be going," she stuttered out, trying to move past the sales lady. She took a few steps towards the door before coming to a stop, not quite ready to step out of the shop. Looking around her eyes fell onto a small top. It was bright pink with 'princess' written across the front it glitter. She reached out and plucked it off the rack, turning back to the clerk. "I would like to try this on." The clerk raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow at the choice. "Follow me," she said, starting towards the back of the store. Alison followed after the clerk, not surprised to see how curvy her hips and ass were. She seemed to be exactly the sort of woman the shop catered to. Without really thinking about it she tried to copy the swaying of the woman's hips, at first it was jerky and uncoordinated, but soon it starting to smooth out, her hips starting to fill out as she walked. The back of the store, near the changing room, was filled with panties and bras. There were so many different styles and colors, it made her head spin. Without thinking about it, she grabbed a few pairs as she walked past, not even looking at them until they were held tightly in her hand. The sales clerk walked up to the dressing room door, opening it with a small key. She paused and looked at the underwear in Alison's hand. "That would look better with a skirt," she said. That made her blush as she looked down again, her pants starting to feel oddly tight as her hips and ass continued to swell out, taking on a lovely rounded shape that was properly filling out her pant for the very first time. "I don't have a skirt," she said. "I'll find you one," the busty woman said, then motioned for Alison to step into the changing room. With a blush she walked in, looking down at the clothing, wondering what ever posed her to pick them out. It wasn't like her, not at all, but she still had them in her hands. She carefully set them down then started to removing her clothing a piece at a time, folding them up and setting them on the bench. She grabbed the first underwear set, a lacey blue thong with tiny bra. Gulping she pulled the thong up her legs, pulling them on and gasping in surprise as he slipped between the firm cheeks of her ass. It looked so weird on her, the small little fabric hardly covered anything and made her glad she always kept her pubic hair trimmed short, forgetting that she had never cared enough to do that before. The bra was going to be a problem. Holding it up to her chest she knew it wasn't going to fit. Her small stings of breasts looked positively silly next to the full cups of the bra. The fact that it was only a C-Cup made her feel even worse about it. Still, it wouldn't look right to only wear the bottoms, and her plain white cotton bra would simply not do. Open up the bra she pulled it on, surprised that the band and shoulder straps seemed to fit perfectly, though the cups sagged empty in front of her. She pressed the cups up against her chest, letting what little breast flesh she had spill over the top of the cups. She wished she could really be that big. Letting go of the bra she didn't notice that it was sagging far less than before, her small breasts starting to swell out under the material. She found herself biting her lip as her nipples grew larger, pressing out against the bra and sending a rush of pleasure though her body. Alison turned and looked at herself in the mirror, finding herself stinking a pose. She was surprised at how good she looked in just the underwear, the shape highlighter every curve of her hips and ass, and even her small belly looked even smaller. Still, it really wasn't quite her. Turning way to take of the underwear, she didn't notice the remains of her belly vanishing, leaving her with a tight stomach as her waist pulled in over her full hips, giving her lower body an perfect set of curves. On the other hand she felt the new weight on her chest as she pulled off her bra, making her gasp. She looked down at her breasts, seeing them jutting out from her chest, but not just outwards but down as well, they had a wonderful natural shape to them that sat high on her chest. Her large nipples were hard, rise up from her areolas like small hills. "Why do I hide these?" she asked, for the life of her not remembering why she had picked such an ugly top that morning. With a flick of her hand she through the bra to the floor, then pushed the thong to the floor. Kicking it away she picked the next set, this one red and covered with little fringes of lace. She pulled the panties on, feeling them cling to the curve of her ass, hugging at it firmly. The bra slipped on next, this one also to large for her. "I need to watch what sort of bras I grab," she said, pulling at the bra, adjusting the cups around her full breasts, rubbing at them through the lacy material. It felt very good, her nipples firm and hard against the fabric, swelling larger as she started to sway her hips from side to side. Her breasts were hot under her hands, the flesh soft and full, feeling like it was swelling out under her touch. The soft pressed back as she teased herself, her nipples growing bigger as the bra grew tighter across her chest. She squeezed and pressed her breasts together, rubbing them a bit as she ground her hips against the empty air. The bra was so tight now, too small to hold her EE-Cup tits, but then very few bras could. It felt so good though, holding tight across her chest, pressing close and making her gasp out. She ran her hands down her sides, feeling her soft skin and curvy body. Allie turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, smiling at the figure in the reflection. She was a fool to try to hide her body, with her wonderful hips, full ass and larger breasts. She was the total package and anyone who saw her would know it. Though it was a pity about her dirty brown hair. It simply had no life to it. She placed a hand on her hips and smiled. As sexy as the panties and bra set looked on her, they were simply too small for her curves. She quickly shrugged them off and threw them into the pile, picking up the last set. This one was black and made of something that felt like silk against her fingers. Taking the panties of the hanger she bent down at her waist, letting her breast dangle free, pulling her slightly forward. She stepped into the panties and slowly pulled them off her legs, feeling like they were growing longer, long and sexy, exactly the sort of legs that guys loved. She tugged the panties on, feeling them settle firmly against her crotch. Allie giggled and ran a hand over the front of her panties, feeling how soft they were against the fold of her cunt. "These are nice," she said softly. She pulled the bra up her arms, letting the cups hug against her tits, cupping them as she reached behind her back to close the clasp. The bra felt just as nice as it teased her nipples, stroking at them as she felt her breasts rise up, swelling against her chest as they quickly filled the cups. Turning around she smiled at her reflection, this set fit her perfectly, the bra held her lovely G-Cup breasts, the round shape of her implants making them all the more attractive. She bounced on her toes, watching them sway heavily with the extra mass. She looked fucking sexy, and she knew it. She bent down and picked up the pink top, pulling it down over her head, her black hair turning bright bottle blond as it slide down, hints of brown hair showing in her roots. She shook her head out, the thin hair filling out and taking on a heavy perm. She pulled the shirt down over her large breasts, giggling at how it hugged her tits, the size of them stretching the word 'princess' so far that it was almost unreadable. There was a knock on the dressing room door, making her jump and laugh softly at her own silliness. Opening the door wide she looked out at the sales clerk, smiling at the sexy black haired woman. "Yes?" The clerk smiled. "This skirt should be perfect for you," she said, offering out a thin black skirt. "Thank you," she said, taking the skirt from her and shaking it out. It was small and stretchy, hardly big enough to cover her ass. With a smile she bent down, not even bothering to close the door, and pulled the skirt up her long legs. It settled down onto her hips, leaving most of her lower belly uncovered, a bright blue piercing appearing in her navel. Spinning around, she felt the skirt flutter over the curve of her ass. Looking at herself in the mirror she couldn't help but smile, she was sex on legs and everyone knew it. "I'll take it!" she said with a giggle. "Good, let's get you rung up," the clerk said with a smile, turning back to head towards the counter. Allie pent down to pick up her shoes, which were no longer the comfortable flat shoes she had before but instead were four inch heals. She slipped them on and grabbed her tiny purse, leaving the rest of her old clothing folded and forgotten on the bench. After paying for her new clothing the former nerd stepped out of the store, getting the attention of every man in the mall. She smiled at them, licking her full lips, tasting the heavy lipstick on them. She strutted her way through the mall, swaying her hips with each step she took, laughing at herself as she heard so many woman cursing her sexy body. Then again, how many people could get their daddy to pay for such wonderful implants for her eighteenth birthday. She walked into the food court, smiling when she saw Ben sitting at a table, waiting for her. With a laugh she moved over to him, her heals clicking on the tile floor. Reaching the table she bent forward to look at him. "Hello hon," she purred. "Hello Allie Kay," he replied, using his pet name for her. "Ready for our tutoring?" "Oh, I'm excited for it. What are we going to study tonight?" she asked her wonderful boyfriend. Ben leaned back and smirked at the bimbo, happy to see that boring and bland nerd was finally a woman worth being seen with him. "Dictation," he said, leaning back and parting his legs. With a smile, Kat leaned in, her hand slipping down to squeeze at his crotch. "Oh, I love dictation," she said with a giggle. She teased him a bit with her long fingers, eager to get at the prize held inside. She was so glad he had decided to tutor her, she couldn't do anything at all in school if it didn't involve fucking, but she was very good at fucking! "Then let's go," he said, standing up and hugging her to his side as they walked back out of the mall, enjoying the prefect girl to have hanging on his arm. -=-=-=-=-=- This story was written and copyright 2012 by Theo Winters, reposting and archiving are allowed as long as this copyright notice and the author's name are not removed. This story cannot be published without permission of the author. Violators will be made into bimbos.
  8. Clownitization by Nosey T. Clown (Clown, BE, MC)And another Clown TF story I had laying around! Clownitization by Nosey T. Clown I think I'm going crazy. Or I'm in a coma - maybe I'll wake up soon. This must be a dream - it certainly is the weirdest dream I ever had. How can I wake myself up? I heard once if I concentrate really had on reality, maybe I'll wake up. How to concentrate? Maybe I can try to write some of this down! Maybe that will cause this dream - I hope it’s a dream - to end! Okay - where's the paper! Boy - it's become hard to write! Maybe if I sit sidesaddle or something…….. How should I begin…..? My name's Candace Reems. I know - most girls with a name like "Candace" get called "Candi", but not me. Oh, sure, I was Candi in high school, but in college it was more professional to be called "Candace." And when I went to work and Water Pricehouse, it seemed an accountant should be called "Candace" instead of "Candi." Or "Miss Reems" - that was way better! <I should concentrate on what I looked like - I mean LOOK like> I am 26 years old, and I had - HAVE - blond hair. I have blue eyes. I'm five foot-six inches tall. I'm single, and broke up with my last boyfriend a few years ago - he was such a dork! I tried to be serious - 'cause I am a blond and you know what reputation I could have - but he was so SILLY! <Okay - talk about the dream. Get back to reality> Okay - this is so weird! <Oops - didn't mean to write that - it's hard to reach the eraser. I'll fix it up later> Okay (giggle) <I DON'T GIGGLE! > (Giggle) So - concentrate - it's Tuesday. I just flew in to our corporate offices in San Francisco for meetings with our most important client. I didn't really want to go, 'cause it's a few days before Hallowe'en and I wanted to go to a party and maybe meet someone but I had to go and that's that. So I worked like a dog all day Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and went to my hotel and had room service and crashed every night and - slow down. S-l-o-w d-o-w-n. (Giggle) Okay. <Whew!> I'm getting agitated - it's only a dream. A D-R-E-A-M. I hope… So I get up Friday and go to the office - this should be the last day of this nonsense. Maybe I can still get home for Hallowe'en tonight. So I'm working on the depreciation schedules. But my boss, Mr. Ackerly comes in at noon and said that the finance guys at the client will finish them up, and I'm free to go. In fact, the office has scheduled a costume party and he thinks I should go - it'll be a 'good break,' or so he says. So I'm thinking - why not. I can fly home Saturday (giggle) <stop that!> and relax at the party and over the weekend. So Mr. Ackerly tells me to take the rest of the day off and try to find a costume. He bids me goodnight and leaves me with a slip of paper with the address scribbled on it. As it turns out, I shoulda gone to bed. So - Friday afternoon, All Hallow's Eve, where to find a costume. First question: What to go as? Belly dancer? No - I'm too slender. Witch? Too common. I call a few costume places from the Yellow Pages, but they are out of cats, and leopards and pirates. What to go as? Maybe this is too difficult. I know - I'll be a clown! I always wanted to be a clown, and no one will know its me under the makeup! I'll be a clown! I can let my hair (all 2" of it) down! This might actually be fun! Now - where to get a clown costume?? Here's a listing I didn't see before - "Clara's Clown Closet". "Only Clown Costumes - when only the BEST will do." I wonder why I didn't see that earlier. So I call them up and - SURPRISE - they have lots of costumes left! (giggle) They said come right over. A $20 cab ride later, I'm standing in front of "Clara's" in one of the nicer parts of town. The mannequins in the window are all dressed as clowns, and look so colorful! This might actually work out! The little sign on the door says "By Appointment Only" and "ring for Entry" - they invited me over, so I guess this is as good as an appointment. I ring and the door buzzed. I pushed the door open, and walked into the biggest clown emporium I have ever seen. Wigs, noses, costumes, makeup - everything. As I walked over to the counter, a woman came from behind the curtain and introduced herself as "Clara." "Hi - I'm Candace." I responded. "Oh - weren't you the person I just spoke to on the telephone? About a last minute costume?" she inquired. "Yes - I got invited to a Hallowe'en party at the last minute and don't have a costume. I always wanted to be a clown, but I don't know the first thing about makeup or costumes or anything. Can you help me?" "My dear - of course. Is your party tonight?" She asked, ever so helpful. "Yes it is." "Well, Candace, we could select your costume and complete your hair and makeup all right here, right now, and you could leave directly for the party if you wanted?" She told me - her voice was sweetly intoxicating. "That sounds wonderful!" I said, "Where do we start?" I was becoming more eager to 'be a clown.' Only now do I realize that it was unusual for me to be so eager. (Giggle) "Well, Candace, have you thought of what kind of clown you want to be? Clara asked. "No - I didn't know there were kinds of clowns.” I replied. "What are they?" Clara told me that there were Auguste clowns, Whiteface clowns, Tramp clowns and Character clowns. I became more puzzled - I don't know why I wasn't thinking clearly. "Make me the clown you think would be best for me,” I stated. It was unusual for me to give up control so easily. "I think you'd be a good Auguste clown,” Clara recommended, "and we can fix you right up. Now follow me,” she said as she swept behind the dividing curtain into the back room. I followed along. Now the part that must be a dream - Clara just led me right along and look where I am now! (Giggle) <STOP THAT!> "You know, dear, clowns get their humor from exaggeration, you know that, don't you?" Her voice was like honey - I was drawn to it like a hungry bee. "Oh yes - I know that" I said, but I didn't really know that - or did I? "And the funniest clowns are the most exaggerated - you know that, right?" She said. "Right" I said, somewhat drunkenly. What's happened to me? "And wouldn't you like to be a most funny clown?” Clara asked. "Oh yes" I said - and look where it got me. (Giggle) "So - we'll need to exaggerate you, won't we?" "I guess so." I said, as Clara took my measurements and wrote them on a clipboard. "Hmmmm," she said quizzically. "You need a little more substance to be exaggerated, wouldn't you agree?" "I guess so." "Let me go to the rack and select a few things, now that I have your measurements" she said, appearing lost in thought. In a few minutes she returned, carrying what seemed like several large pillows. As she dropped them on the floor, they appeared to be cotton-lined Jello. "I'm so sorry, dear, but we will need to exaggerate your, er, 'slender' figure. I want you to put this on - here, use this dressing room." She handed me what she was carrying and pointed to a curtained room a few feet away. "Now hurry up!" she commanded. I scurried into the room and drew the curtain. I began to inspect what she had given me - although not particularly heavy, it appeared to be a ridiculously proportioned women's body suit! If you looked up exaggerated in the dictionary, this suit might actually be there! And - I was replete with bra (attached to the cotton) and panties (also attached), in a clownish polka-dot pattern. I was momentarily stunned at the thought of the figure that would result if I wore this. "Now, Candace, you must take off all your clothes before putting on your new undergarment - otherwise it won't, er, fit properly." "Yes, ma'am.” I responded. I began to take off my clothes in the privacy of the dressing room. Now disrobed, I found a zipper in the back of the bodysuit and unzipped it. It fell open at my feet and I stepped in and pulled it up over my shoulders. It was like putting on a cool, comfortable glove! It fit perfectly! It felt wonderful and caressing! I couldn't wait to zip it up! I hope I could find the strength to take it off at the end of the night (this wasn't a problem, as it turned out). I turned toward the mirror to admire myself. Boy! Talk about an exaggerated figure! I couldn't believe the comical character that reflected back at me in the mirror. First, my neck, arms and legs were uncovered by the suit and unchanged. But that's all that stayed the same. My boobs were bigger than I have ever seen on a woman - even that dancer Chelsea Charms! Turning this way and that, I could see my boobs from behind me! I couldn't believe it. In fact, the suit was so realistic that I had nipples, too! And what nipples! They were as round as saltshakers and protruded almost an inch! I marveled at the detail in this suit! But as big as my boobs were, my butt was awesome. It protruded as much to the rear as my boobs did in front! I was enormously wide, and wondered to myself how I'd sit in a chair! I had the biggest hourglass figure in the world. I would be a great clown! (Giggle) A tape measure hung on the wall, and I struggled to measure myself. After some effort, I found I had a 95" bust and 85" butt. I measured my waist at 20", but somehow I never noticed that my waist had shrunk from its normal 29" size. I was so fuzzy. 'Are you ready? Come out here.” Clara commanded. I reached over my boobs and drew back the curtain and walked out, brushing the doorframe on each side. "What do you think?” I asked Clara. "Well, you are a little small, but I think it's a great start!" she beamed. "Now - let's pick a costume!" She headed off to the rack and I waddled behind her. (Giggle) I was having a harder and harder time walking and keeping my balance, but tried to keep up. In a few short minutes she had me outfitted in a set of ruffled bloomers with more then twenty petticoats, and a set of red and white striped socks that rose up and actually covered my enormous butt! A blue polka dot baby-doll dress went over the top of it all, making my enormous boobs seem even larger. As Clara directed me to a chair (without arms!), I sat and contemplated how much my butt projected over the edges as she placed a pair of 26" long Mary-Janes on my feet, in yellow. She asked me to stand. "What do you think?” Clara asked, as she turned a wall-sized mirror to face me. I looked at the vision in the mirror and was speechless. Except for the face on the person in the mirror that was clearly mine, I had become a ridiculous, exaggerated, corpulent clown. I turned this way and that, admiring myself and thinking how good I looked (which was odd - I usually liked how I looked as a girl, not a clown?!) (Giggle) Even as I turned, by boobies brushed the mirror and I felt a tingle in my chest. Although I realize now this was unusual, I didn't seem to notice it at the time. "Oh Clara, I am a beautiful clown!” I exclaimed, my voice almost squealing. Had I been paying attention, I would have noticed it had risen in pitch a bit. "It's better than I could have hoped!" I would be the perfect clown for the party! "But, Clara, what about my face?” I pouted. After all, a clown has to have a ridiculous face and hair. "I've got just the thing,” Clara pointed out. "Come over here and recline in this chair," she invited. I did as I was directed. As I settled myself into this larger-than-normal chair, I watched myself in the mirror. Strangely, as I walked the thirty feet from the dressing room to the makeup chair, I had found it easier to walk with my clown shoes, although I had begun to waddle even more exaggeratedly. Still, as I settled in this oh-so-plush chair, I giggled at watching how my body stuck out from the sides of the chair, and how my little boobies took up almost all my chest. I wanted to scratch an itch on one elbow, but was having a hard time reaching it with my other hand. Too bad my boobies are so small, I thought. Clara positioned what looked to be a 1950-s style hair dryer over my head, and activated it to a low thrumming. "This will fix your hair right up,” she advised, " while I work on your face." With that, she opened a chest full of various makeup items, and began selecting among the clown noses for me. "Let's see - I think this is about right,” she said, and turned toward me with the biggest, reddest, roundest clown nose I think I had ever seen! I have seen a lot of clowns, but I had never seen a nose this big. "Wow! What a nose" I giggled. I settled back even further in the chair, in total comfort in this new body. It felt too GOOD! I reveled in feeling my huge butt and boobies, and wondered how to be a funny clown. "Now, hold still and let me get some adhesive,” Clara intoned. "This will feel quite natural, just like your new clown body, and should make you a very funny clown indeed. Now close your eyes…" she said. I closed my eyes, and seeming drifted off to sleep for what seemed like only a few seconds. The last thing I remember it Clara's fingers placing this enormous nose on my own…….. Gradually I awoke, and was briefly disoriented by a red ball in my field of vision. As I reached to scratch it (and hit it far earlier than I planned) I remembered Clara's placing it on my face. She was right! It felt quite natural! In fact, as I felt for a seam, I couldn't tell where it joined my own face. I was beginning to wonder what I looked like, as Clara was still working on my face and blocking my view of the mirror. "Now - I think that does it! You are indeed a funny clown! You should be the hit of the party!" Clara was positively beaming! "I think this is my best work! Ready for a look?" she asked. I nodded my head, unaccustomed to the shaking and quivering of this new nose on my face, and the resultant jiggles in my boobies and butt. "Yes - I want to be a clown! Please show me!" I pleaded. (Was my voice still higher?) With that, Clara backed away from my field of vision and I saw myself in the mirror. To say I was a clown is an understatement. To say I looked ridiculous doesn't cover it. To say I would be the funniest clown that night was close, but still can't capture it. I had been completely transformed. My face was still my face, but it was as if I was born to be a clown. Once I got over the shock of seeing that enormous nose on my face (and the huge nostrils on either side of it), I started to examine the detail of my new 'look.' I don't know how Clara did it, but my eyebrows (which I kept so carefully trimmed) had been arched into a high sweeping arch over my eyes. As I turned my head from one side to the other, I kept imagining my eyebrows had become red McDonalds Golden Arches on my face. But that wasn't all. White clown makeup highlighted my eyes, which had grown the longest lashes I had ever seen - they must have measured more than an inch! They were full and lush, and fluttered when I blinked my eyes. When I reached to touch them, I felt no trace of adhesive. Clara was certainly good! Below my nose (which dominated my face (goody) <did I think that? > my lips seemed to have become plumper, yet were outlined as a traditional clown's mouth. Still feminine and shaped like an exaggerated version of my own lips, there was a definite clown smile as part of my new face. (Giggle) My skin positively glowed, although with a radiant peach color. But that wasn't all! As Clara pulled the dryer off my head, my new red curly locks spilled out of the dryer - a perfect clown 'do! Covered in wide and gentle curls, by head was a mass of red - wild and silly. I was amazed. "Clara - how did you do this?” I asked, wondering why my voice was reaching for higher octaves. "It's magic, my dear. I love bringing people their dearest wish to be a clown. It's my gift to you." Clara smiled gently and patted me on the shoulder - but as she brushed my boobies, a jolt went through me. That's odd, I thought. "But - I have one more surprise for you" Clara said. "The piece de resistance - and something to make you a truly unique clown." She pulled back my hair from my ears for me to see. I couldn't believe it - my ears had grown! Now twice the size that my ears had been, they stuck straight out from my head! I had huge clown ears! "Oh Clara, you've made me so happy! I will be such a funny clown tonight!" I was giddy with delight! (Giggle) I squirmed around in the chair and felt the smooth fabric of the chair against my butt, and the taught fabric of my baby doll dress against my little boobies. I was in heaven. I never stopped to notice that this was a bit odd until later. I was in giggly delight as I gazed at the clown in the mirror, butt sticking out from the chair, boobs sticking out from my chest, and the biggest nose I could imagine. Clara helped me out of the chair. "Now, dear, why don't I send your clothes back to your hotel and you can have fun and go straight to your party tonight? She asked. "Sure" I giggled. I didn't want to wait being a clown for a minute. "What do I owe you for all this trouble?" She quoted a modest sum, and I struggled to get my purse up over my boobies where I could see it, and then to get my wallet out of my purse and hand over a credit card. It took several tries, because I couldn't see around my new nose and got the wrong card several times. As Clara handed me my receipt and card, I bent forward and my boobies and I fell on the counter as I reached forward to sign the bill. "Now you are getting into the spirit,” Clara said. "Clowns as exaggerated as you have to be clumsy, too!" she directed. No problem there, I thought. There's a lot of me here to be clumsy with! Clara helped me right myself and placed my purse on my clothes. "Would you like anything before you go?" she inquired. "Yes - I would like en teensy glass of water' I said <why did I say that? I don't talk like that?><why is my voice so high pitched? I must have a frog in my throat> Clara handed me a big glass of water, with a huge opening in the top. "I see you are becoming accustomed to your new voice" she smiled. "That lozenge I gave you earlier will keep your voice in keeping with your looks." I hadn't remembered a lozenge, but squeaked "Thank you" in a voice that sounded like I swallowed helium. I took a sip of water. "That's a complete package!” I whined. I would have to get used to this voice. I took another sip of water, and as I tried to put the glass down the contents cascade all over my boobies. Boy, was it cold! <How come I can feel that - a small voice within me asked>. My nose had gotten stuck in the glass! "That's the spirit - you'll be a great clown" Clara was almost rolling on the floor with laughter. "You will be wonderfully funny!" With some difficulty I pulled my nose out of the glass and returned it to Clara. "Now - off to your party - I'll send your things along." I straightened my baby-doll dress (It seemed too small for many parts of me), thanked Clara, and waddled out the door. It seemed that I was waddling more than before as I struggled to get myself through the doorframe. In fact, it seemed as if clown shoes were not only part of a clown costume, but also essential in walking with my figure. I reached behind me without looking to close the door, hitting my butt several times in the doorway before I became sensible enough to move out of the doorway and reach in sideways to close the door. Clara's laughter was uproarious and faded slowly as the door closer. I waddled off down the street to mingle with costumed revelers. As I reached the end of the street, I had been greeted by many people, teased by a few, photographed three times and been knocked on my fat butt ten times! Mostly I was still getting used to my new girth, but each time I went down (and my bloomers were exposed) the crowd roared with glee. I was beginning to grow into my new role. As I reached the end of the street it hit me - I had forgotten my purse and wallet and would need it that night. I turned somewhat clumsily, fell twice, rolled to my feet and waddled back to the store's location. At least I thought it was the store's location. I must have gotten turned around. I waddled up to the end of the block and down another side street, but no store. I was getting puzzled. As turned again, fell again, bumped into someone (who laughed), and then giggling <giggling? > returned to the original street. Still no store. I sneezed, and then pulled a huge handkerchief out of my pocket reflexively and blew my nose with a HONK! Blew my nose with a honk? I never do that. As I wiped my nose, I felt each pass of the handkerchief across my skin. My nose felt real! As I giggled almost uncontrollably, I felt my nose and tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge. My hands fell to my sides, and I felt the slap as my boobies and fat butt started quivering. They felt real, too! I reached for my ears, but they stuck fast as well (and HURT when I pulled them!). I leaned against the wall for support. As I felt around my body, it seemed all I was wearing was real! But it couldn't be. I struggled to contain myself. I was in sheer pleasure about being a clown (a long-held dream of mine) and stunned that I had actually become one. I waddled to my hotel. As I walked in, I went straight to the front desk, bumping into the desk with my boobies long before I expected to. I asked for the front desk manager. Shortly, a very serious looking man appeared, without a nametag. "May I help you, Candie?" he asked. Candie? My name was Candace! "Why did you call me Candie?” I asked in that impossible voice. "It's right there!" he gestured, pointing to my right boobie <why do I call them boobies? They are boobies! I mean boobies! NO, I mean BOOBIES!> I couldn't remember the right words. I looked down. There, pinned to my baby-doll dress over my right boobie was a nametag. It read "Candie T. Clown". "I suppose the 'T' stands for ‘The ,’" the man said somewhat drolly. I couldn't help myself - I giggled and curtseyed. "But you don't understand - I'm Candace Reems! I'm a guest in your hotel! I lost my key" I wailed. Of course, in that high-pitched voice, even I was starting to doubt myself. "Of course you are. Now have a nice Hallowe'en" the man said as he turned away. "But wait…" I said as I turned after him. But it was not to be. As I turned, my big feet got tangled in each other, my fat butt hit the counter and I was flat on the floor to a roar of laughter and applause. The guests in the lobby thought I was part of an act! I made a grand bow (sort of - I found it hard to bend over) and decided to go somewhere to think. I headed for the convention level, likely deserted this time of night. I selected a little used elevator, and squeezed my fat self into it as I descended first one, then two levels. As I left the elevator, I struck the alarm button with my boobies and struggled to silence it before I was noticed. The elevator departed leaving me in deserted (thankfully!) and semi darkness. I groped and waddled forward in the corridor, feeling my way with my huge feet, still amazed that I couldn't see them over my boobies. I found a deserted conference room and, after opening both doors wide, was able to get in. I barricaded all the doors with some chairs for privacy, and took a look at myself in the nearby wall mirror. I couldn't believe it - I was a clown - it all felt so real. I had to find out for sure. I fought my way out of my clothes (falling several times in the process and giggling hysterically). After nearly an hour, I was able to examine myself clad only in polka-dot underwear <where did that come from>. Standing almost nude, I gazed at the biggest boobies I had ever seen. My waist had shrunk, magnifying their size. And yet my butt seemed hugely fat and protruding. And I was wearing the biggest polka dot bra and polka dot panties I could imagine existing. I could see my hands feeling my new body and see them reflected in the mirror, but I was still stunned and disbelieving. I had become the body suit I had donned only hours earlier! I felt my face and ears, but they had become permanent parts of me - 'Candi T. Clown.' I was indeed the best clown of all. I pinched myself several times to awaken, but only succeeded in falling and giggling, shaking all over like Jello. I rose and began the struggle to dress. Oddly, it seemed easier with familiarity, although buckling my shoes was a challenge made worse by the fact I couldn't see them. I straightened my bloomers and my baby-doll dress, and fluffed out my hair. As I examined my face in the mirror, I misjudged the distance and hit my nose several times before I realized how big it actually was. <I have to awaken> I kept telling myself. <This must be a dream> I giggled to myself. I looked around the room and found paper laid out for the next day's meetings. <If I write this down, maybe I will return to reality> I thought. I pulled out a chair to sit down and promptly fell off it, giggling. <I guess I had better change a few things> I thought, as I pulled out two chairs and positioned them side-by-side. After several false starts, trying to squeeze in between the table and chairs and knocking the chairs over only to have to pick them up again, I placed my fat butt on both chairs and tried to reach the table. I wasn't able to reach over my huge boobies! Now what?! I stood up (knocking the chairs over yet again) and positioned them so I could sit on both of them and write sidesaddle, as I could only reach the table with one arm. What am I going to do if I don't wake up? Anonymous poster hash: 19921...620
  9. DeDe the Clown By Mikey Vincent (Clown, BE, MC) Here's an old clown TF story I found laying around my hard drive. It's weird but also fun! DeDe the Clown By Mikey Vincent Deanna was in need of a change. As she pulled into a parking space in the strip mall, she studied her reflection in her rearview mirror. Tan skin, blue eyes, shoulder length blonde hair, her slender neck led to modest, B-cup breasts, a slim waist, a pert bottom, and long sexy legs. By anyone else’s standards she was a total babe. That was the problem. Sure she loved the sun and the beach and staying in shape, but in terms of looks, she looked like every other beach girl. She wanted to stand out, to be the center of attention. For all eyes to be on her when she entered a room. That’s when she came across an ad in the paper: “Want to be noticed? Want to STAND OUT? Want to be someone new? One Week Only! Free Makeovers by Stacey You’ll be guaranteed to leave with a smile!” That was exactly what she was looking for. She got out of her car and walked to the salon entrance. She was wearing her best designer jeans and a low-cut tank top. (‘Even if It was just a salon visit, why shouldn’t she look nice?’ She thought earlier) “This better be worth it,” sighed Deanna, in her husky voice. Some people said she sounded like Scarlett Johannson. A bell chimed as she walked through the door. As her eyes adjusted to the light she saw a receptionist’s desk and a few chairs. She didn’t see anyone, so she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?” “I’ll be out in just a minute!” a voice shouted from the back. “Just make yourself comfortable!” As she looked around the salon, she was surprised how empty the room was. The walls were lined with doors, which looked like changing stalls and storage closets. At the center of the room sat a single salon station. There sat an oversized salon chair, a full length mirror on either side, and a standard lighted mirror in the center, the table in front of it scattered with different items: hairspray bottles, brushes, blow dryers, etc. She also noticed a large cart, it almost looked like a toolbox you would find in someone’s garage. She went to take a closer look when she felt a tap on her shoulder; she jumped a bit as she turned around. Standing there was a tall, slender woman, in her late twenties. She was pretty, dressed in a smart white pantsuit with sensible flats, her black hair kept chin length in a sensible style. She had an average body, nothing too outstanding, maybe even a bit on the skinny side. “Oh! Did I scare you? Sorry about that, I was just taking a little break. I’m Stacey.” “Hi, I’m Deanna, I saw your ad and I was wondering if you had any openings today. I’m sorry about snooping around your stuff I—“ “Oh nonsense! I don’t mind people who take an interest in my craft! I just so happen to have some free time before my next appointment! There’s a changing room in the back, go ahead and get out of those clothes and put on one of the robes, I’ll just get everything ready here.” Deanna stripped down to her bra and panties, and almost as if Stacey was watching, shouted out, “Bra and panties too! Don’t want anything getting ruined!” For some reason, Deanna didn’t think twice and stripped all the way down. She put on the robe and went back to the main room, leaving her clothes behind. As she took a seat in the salon chair and she was surprised at how large it was. ’It must be for oversized customers too, everything is so PC these days.’ She thought to herself. She also noticed the mirrors were covered. Stacey just finished locking the door and closing the blinds in the front windows. “Don’t want anyone interrupting our session!” She said with a smile. “Now, you mentioned you saw my ad, what exactly did you want to do today?” “Well, I’m sick of looking like every other blonde beach girl in town, I want to turn heads, I want to be noticed, I want to STAND OUT!” she paused for a second, surprised at how excited her answer was. “Well! I definitely like your attitude, I think what you need is a complete makeover! Top to bottom, I’m talking the works!” “Oh that sound’s great! Please, Stacey, I’m in your hands, do whatever you like!” “That’s just the response I was looking for. When I’m done, I think you’re going to make a very BIG impression on everyone! Let’s get started!” She turned Deanna away from the mirrors, “Don’t want to ruin the surprise!” She wheeled over the giant cart from earlier and opened it up. Inside was the largest makeup supply ever! Not even Hollywood makeup artists had this much at their disposal. “Now this is some makeup I have developed on my own. It’s not for sale yet because I can’t find a distributor for it, but the effects are amazing. This is why I’m giving free makeovers so I can have some customers when it does hit the market. It’s mainly for film use, because it is kinda thick… but would you like to try it?” “Sure, why not? I mean it should come off pretty easily if I don’t like it right?” “I suppose, if you don’t like it…” Stacey replied suspiciously, but Deanna thought nothing of it. “Now, this is a base coat. I’m going to cover most of your face so everything else will… stick.” With each stroke of the brush, Deanna’s once bronze skin became whiter and whiter, till her entire face, even her eyelids, lips, and eyebrows were pale white. Next, Stacey reached for a tube of mascara. With each stroke, Deanna’s lashes grew thicker and longer, until her lashes were almost comically long, and fluttered every time she blinked. The added weight of her new lashes made it hard for Deanna to open her eyes fully, giving her ‘bedroom eyes.’ “Oh yes! That looks great! Let’s keep going!” She grabbed an eyebrow pencil and began to draw in Deanna’s eyebrows. With each stroke, Deanna’s old brows faded away, and were now replaced by swooping arches, with one cocked higher than the other, when coupled with her new lashes, gave Deanna a sexy ‘come hither’ look. She then put the pencil to right above Deanna’s lips, giving her a beauty mark. No reason, just an extra touch that ended up looking great on her. Stacey grabbed a couple shades of eyeshadow in a wide variety of colors, filling in the space between her lashes and her eyebrows, till her eyes were an explosion of blues, greens, and purples. On anyone else it would have looked silly, but it somehow worked for Deanna’s rapidly changing look. Next, she pulled out a tube of lipstick, fire engine red. Deanna gave a quizzical look, the first sign of resistance throughout this whole process. But Stacey was quick to resolve that. “Now Deanna, you said you wanted to stand out. You’re gonna have to trust me on this, but I promise you’ll love the new look.” Deanna’s worries faded away as she relaxed back into her chair. ‘Stacey has been so nice to me so far, how rude of me to question her.’ She thought to herself, and from then on resolved to just trust Stacey. Stacey smiled, as she saw the resistance slip away from Deanna’s eyes. As she slathered on the lipstick, Deanna felt her lips tingle. What she didn’t notice was that with each swipe, her lips swelled more and more, puffing up past Angelina Jolie dimensions and showing no signs of stopping. At this point, with her sultry eyes, and pouty lips, Deanna was quickly transforming from blonde beauty to a caricature of femininity. Stacey could not stop smiling as she turned to the cart for some blush. Deanna couldn’t help but notice Stacey’s butt straining the bottoms of the pantsuit. ‘Funny, I didn’t notice Stacey having a little ‘junk in her trunk.’ She thought with a shrug. Turning back around, Stacey brushed away a strand of her shoulder length wavy brown hair. “Are you enjoying this so far? I know I am. We can stop if you’d like.” Stacey asked. “Oh no! Please keep going! Whatever you’re doing feels great! I’m excited to see how I turn out!” Deanna replied excitedly, anxiously squirming in her seat. “Okay, then! I’m almost done with your makeup, then we can move on to your hair and body!” “My body?” Deanna asked, pursing her plump lips, almost causing Stacey to giggle. “Of course Deanna! Remember, I said we’re doing a COMPLETE makeover! Now actually, hold that pout for me while I add some blush!” With each stroke of the brush, Deanna’s cheekbones became more and more prominent. When Stacey put the brush down and stepped back to take a look, she couldn’t help but smile as Deanna ended up being unable to stop pouting, as the makeup reshaped her face and bone structure. Deanna now looked like she was always ready for a kiss. “Okay! I think we’ve covered the face, let’s move on to the hair!” Stacey said as she walked to back to her workstation. Deanna definitely noticed Stacey’s larger hips adding an exaggerated sway to her walk, and her large, heart shaped behind threatening to burst through her red polka dotted pantsuit as her two inch heels clacked on the tile floor. She returned with a strange bottle of liquid, bright pink, almost glowing. She sat down on a nearby stool and showed the bottle to Deanna. “Now this is a special concoction I whipped up, it’s basically waterless shampoo and conditioner! It will add some extra body to your hair while introducing a deep conditioner directly to your scalp. Care to give it a go?” “Sure!” “Now this next step does take a while so can I get you anything while I’m working?” Asked Stacey “Actually, I’m a little thirsty, do you have any water?” Stacey frowned, in mock disappointment. “I’m sorry Dee, actually I’m all out. But I do have a smoothie I picked up on my break. Would you like it? I’m probably not going to drink it; I always buy the largest ones for some reason. It’s strawberry, my favorite!” Deanna perked up, “I LOVE strawberry! Are you sure you don’t want it?” “Oh! By all means, let me go get it from the front desk. You sit tight!” She said as she swayed to the counter, her ample bottom jiggling with each click of her four-inch pumps and her mid-back length auburn hair swaying in rhythm. What Deanna didn’t know was that this drink was meant for her. Another one of Stacey’s creations, it had a special blend of ingredients that would change Deanna entirely, one could say she would be a different person. As Stacey clicked back to the workstation, Deanna noticed Stacey’s top few buttons of her polka dotted jacket were undone, exposing Stacey’s C-cup cleavage in a tasteful manner. As Stacey handed her the cup, she also noticed Stacey’s ¾ inch long nails, as red as the polka dots of her outfit. She thanked Stacey for the drink and wrapped her overinflated lips on the strangely out of place crazy straw. As the pink drink coursed its way through the loops, she could swear the drink was almost glowing. As the smoothie finally made it into her mouth, she was greeted with an explosion of flavor! “Wow Stacey! This is delicious!” exclaimed Deanna, her voice an octave higher. “Glad you like it Dee! Now sit back and enjoy while I get to work.” Stacey said as she applied a liberal amount of her special chemical to Deanna’s hair. As Stacey worked the chemical into Deanna’s scalp, she could see Deanna’s body begin to relax more and more. The chemicals in the shampoo, combined with the smoothie, began to alter Deanna’s mind. Before long, Deanna would cease to be. Stacey paused for a second from her scalp massage and clicked away, out of Deanna’s sight. She wheeled over and positioned what looked to be a 1950’s style hair dryer over Deanna’s head, and activated it to a low thrumming. "This will activate the chemical in the shampoo and fix your hair right up, Dee.” she advised. A very relaxed Deanna could only nod her head as she drifted further and further away. What she didn’t know was that the dryer was rigged to emit subliminal messages that would help further Deanna’s transformation. As she absentmindedly sipped her delicious beverage, she began to feel tingly. All her thoughts and concerns were drifting away, as carefree as the drink made its way through each loop of the crazy straw. Slowly, her ideals of looks and body image were being replaced with those of Stacey’s specifications. One key word that kept on repeating in the messages was ‘BIG.’ Soon her hair began to grow. Slowly at first, but then more and more rapid with each minute. Her once straight, naturally golden blonde hair was exploding into thick, platinum blonde ringlets, gaining more and more volume. Soon her thick, golden locks were spilling out of the bottom of the dryer and creeping further and further down the back of her chair. The growth only slowed as the hair began to pool on the floor, an alluring cascade of platinum blonde curly perfection. The added weight of this expanse of hair made it difficult for Deanna to keep her head up. The rhythmic thumping and warmth of the dryer combined with her and her relaxed state, and soon Deanna was dozing off, still absentmindedly sipping her giant pink beverage. — *DING!* Deanna woke with a yawn and a stretch. “Oh my goodness! I must have fallen asweep!” Deanna said. Gone was her smoky, sultry voice, now replaced by a sex-kitten whisper, high-pitched and breathy, even a bit childish. She didn’t even notice. In her hand, she still held the now empty cup. She had consumed all the contents in her dreamy daze. “Oh good, DeDe you’re awake! You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you!” Stacey said, swaying back over to her half-awake project. If Deanna still had her senses about her, she would notice the woman before her was nothing like she was when she first arrived. Gone was the slender, sharply dressed business woman. Before her was a bombshell. Starting from the bottom, she was perched on seven-inch white heels, leading up to perfect calves and thick, womanly thighs. These were the definition of ‘gams,’ which led to her wide hips and generous derriere looking like they were poured into her white satin pants, decorated with bright red hearts in a polka-dot pattern. This led up to a thin waist making way to her ridiculous bust. EE-cup breasts were pressed and pushed up, threatening to spill out of her too-tight jacket, which matched the pants, and her white lace bra peeking out . Her fingers sported 1 ½” red talons, and her hands and wrists were adorned with multiple gold rings and bracelets, the jingling adding to her attention-getting walk. This led up to slender shoulders and a graceful neck, adorned with gold necklaces. Her face was anything but subdued. Red pouty lips (although not as pouty as Deanna’s!) a pert, little nose, sultry, smoky eyes, and elegant eyelashes and eyebrows completed her look. Her ears sported two large gold hoops in each ear, that clinked when she walked. All of this was capped off by her hair! Big, curly red hair flew out in all directions, flowing all the way down to her outrageous backside. She was made up to gain attention. As she stepped, something on her, whether it be her hair or body, or jewelry, was constantly moving. Her hair was bouncing, her huge tits swaying and jiggling in a sexy way, even her big ass bounced as she teetered up to the anxiously waiting Deanna. “Oh my gosh!” said Deanna in her new breathy voice. “Miss Stacey! You are beeeeeauuutifulll!” Stacey couldn’t help but laugh at how childish Deanna sounded. She was almost done. “Oh, so you like the way I look?” “Oh yes! I would LOVE to look like you! You’re so beautiful and bouncy and pretty and your hair and your clothes and and—“ “Haha, okay, calm down DeDe! What if I told you I COULD make you look like this? What if I told you I could make you look any way you want? Would you like that?” “OH YES! Yes Miss Stacey! I would love that so much!” “What would you change about yourself?” “I want to be BIG! Big everything! I want everyone to notice me! I want everyone to stare at me, I want to be the center of attention!” “I think I can take care of that.” She said as she lifted the dryer off of Deanna’s hair. As the hood lifted, a waterfall of curly, platinum hair spilled out, tugging Deanna’s head back a little bit. “Well, we have your hair and makeup done, now all that’s left is your body! Follow me to the changing rooms!” “Oh, goody goody goody!!!” Deanna said as she jumped up, she stumbled a bit as she was getting used to her now long hair. Stacey looked back and smiled at her work. From the neck down, she was still a pretty, tanned, average girl, but from the neck up, she was a vision! Clown makeup, exaggerated facial features, ridiculously long hair, she was a Ringling Brothers Lady Godiva! Deanna gathered her hair in her hands, not even realizing how drastic this change was, and scampered up to Stacey, who was standing by a room marked “De-Tanning Room” “But Miss Stacey, I’m already tan!” “Silly DeDe, this is the DE-Tanning room! Everyone is tan these days, how are you going to stand out if you look like everyone else. When you’re finished here, you’ll be as far away from tan as possible!” “Well, okay Miss Stacey!” Dede dropped her robe without a second thought, piled her hair in a big mass on top of her head, with a little help from Stacey, and entered the room. Inside was what looked like a stand-up tanning bed. As the door closed behind her, the room was lit up with black lights, emitting a cool blue glow. A nozzle came up from the ground and began to rotate around her body and legs. A white mist began to spray Deanna, and before long, her entire body was glowing in the black light, covered in the warm white spray. As soon as it had started, the process had ended. Deanna emerged to a waiting Stacey. From top to bottom she was pale white, matching her already made up face. Stacey clasped her hands in glee, her bracelets and rings jingling wildly, “Oh goodness! You turned out better than I hoped! Let’s keep going!” As she swayed to the next room. Deanna saw Stacey now walk in an exaggerated fashion. Gone was the confident, business-like stride, now Stacey walked exaggeratedly femininely. Palms turned out and down, her feet one in front of the other, exaggerating her already outrageous sway even more. ‘Golly, I sure do wish that I look half as good as she does when I’m done. She must get attention everywhere she goes!” Thought Deanna, obviously in a new frame of mind. They came to a changing room, much like the first room Deanna entered when she started this strange journey. “Now then,” Said Stacey, her hands on her hips in a mock-authority stance. “We’re almost done. I picked out some clothes for you to wear. Now, you’re gonna have to trust me, but these will DEFINITELY get you noticed, and I think you’ll find that BIG look you’ve been wanting! Now scoot!” She said playfully as she patted the girl’s perky, bare bottom. ‘That’s the last time her butt will ever be that small!’ Stacey thought to herself with a knowing smirk. Deanna was a fit of giggles and squeals as she headed into the room, shutting the door behind her. As she entered the changing room, she cooed at her clothing choices. ‘Oh Miss Stacey has such good taste! I’m going to be the center of attention for sure!’ She picked up the panties first. They were a frilly number, full of lace and ruffles. They were also monstrously huge. Deanna didn’t even think twice and slid them on. As they snaked up her slender legs, they began to tingle. Her legs began to grow, thickening her thighs and calves into womanly proportions, but they didn’t stop there. They passed the point of healthy and settled on just plain thick. Her once slender legs, from days of swimming and surfing, were now like tree trunks, but had the right amount of softness to them. As the panties settled on her bottom, her butt met the same fate as her legs. Gone was her small, perky butt, now each cheek was more and more rotund. Her once pert, round bottom was swollen and soft, and as it got larger it got progressively lower, and yet still not a blemish was on her. Her ass grew and grew, until they met the panties, the ruffles stretched across her new expanse, drawing attention to the sheer size. She loved it! She ran her hand over her pale white thigh and playfully slapped her new bottom, sending ripples throughout it without showing any signs of stopping. Next was her bra. It matched the panties with both the lace and frills, but also the size. She squealed with joy as she snapped it on. As she completed the final clasp, she fell to the bench as a sensation of feelings overcame her. Her large behind made a fun ‘slap’ as it hit the leather, but Deanna didn’t even notice. She was to overcome with the sensations on her chest. She squirmed as her breasts exploded to meet the size of the bra, filling each and every inch of the bra, even overflowing it a bit as her breasts pushed together in a pillowy cleavage. As she struggled to get up, her arm brushed her nipple through the fabric and she almost fell back over! ‘Goodness! My boobies sure are sensitive! *Tee-hee!*’ She turned and pouted in concentration at the other items. She picked up a pair of stockings, they were pink and white, with vertical stripes running down them. She struggled to look past her new MM- cup breasts to put her feet in the stockings. They slid perfectly up her thick legs and stopped at the top of her thighs. She turned this way and that, trying to look at her new gams past her breasts and large bottom. She slid on some bright pink bloomers, which accented her stockings perfectly, and were tight enough that you could see her ruffles from her panties through them. Next up were the shoes. She found a pair of nine inch platform heels, size 22EE. Without a second thought she slid her dainty feet into them, and like clockwork, her feet ballooned to fit the shoes perfectly. The added angle of the heels caused her to push her breasts and butt out even further, but she found that somehow it improved her balance. Finally there was the dress. It was bright pink and white, like everything else, and had big lips printed in a pattern all over it. As she shimmied into the dress, she giggled at how short it was. It stopped right at her hips, and the built in petticoats were so stiff it stuck out on all sides, giving anyone who wanted a very generous view of her generous backside. The top was cut very low, giving onlookers a full view of her expansive cleavage. She found a pair of white gloves in the front of the dress, but they only had four fingers. She slid them on, not thinking twice, her middle and ring finger fusing together, but not providing any discomfort. She was absolutely giddy as she clomped out of the dressing room. Even with her giant feet and outrageous figure she glided through the salon like she was on a catwalk. Stacey was waiting at the salon chair for her. “Oh DeDe! You look incredible! Come, have a seat and we’ll do some finishing touches!” Dede sashayed over to the chair and had a seat. The once oversized chair now fit her figure like a glove, like it was made for her. She looked over at Stacey, who had changed again. Her hair was bigger, if possible, a wild mane of bright red curls, matching the red hearts on her silk pantsuit. Her breasts had grown some more, but no where as close as Deanna’s and her hips had widened some more. If Stacey had an hourglass figure, Deanna had to have had two hours! “Now DeDe, I’m going to let you in on a secret.” Stacey said as she let down Deanna’s mass of curls and began to style it. “The changes I’ve made today are very special. You came in wanting a change. You wanted to be noticed. You wanted to be the center of attention. You wanted to be BIG.” She reached for some bright pink ribbons from her cart and began to put Deanna’s hair in bunches. “I provided those changes for you. Hopefully you like them, I think you will. Would you like to see the new you?” “Oh yes! Yes Miss Stacey! PLEASE! I can’t wait to see what you’ve done!” “Very well, stand up and take a look.” Deanna squirmed out of the chair and stood at the mirror as Stacey dropped the sheets. She could not believe what she was seeing. Extra large, pink platform heels, thick, pink and white striped stocking-clad, gams led to thick thighs, her ruffled and pantied enormous bottom and wide hips curved into a narrow waist, leading up to cartoonishly huge boobs. Her face was a vision of sensuality and caricature. Her massive blonde curls were parted into two large pigtails, cascading down both sides of her head, forming a platinum blonde aura. Her ridiculous dress, gloves, and overall look provided one conclusion. She was a CLOWN! “Oh my god! I’m a, a—“ “Yes, you can say it, a clown!” Said Stacey as she walked up behind Deanna, who noticed Stacey’s final change. Stacey had completed her changes. Her skin was pale white, her lips, by now inflated into a parody of sexuality, were pulled tight, revealing large and shiny white teeth. The makeup on her face gained small touches, little hearts at the corners of her eyes and lips and her nose was replaced with a big red clown nose. Her hair was now a bright red afro, her pantsuit had become baggy while still accentuating her proportions. Big red hearts were plastered all over the suit, including two large ones over her breasts and a VERY large one over her bottom. Her heels had grown to match Deanna’s and she ran a hand, along Deanna’s neck and kissed her cheek. “Think of it, a clown is the ULTIMATE attention getter! And the way I made you, you’ll be the best clown ever! “ She ran a hand down to Deanna’s bottom, her 2” long red nail tracing the ruffles. Deanna was torn. Gone was the slender, tanned blonde athlete, replaced with this exaggerated tribute to femininity. She was so attracted and turned on by what she saw. “Join me, be a clown with me, think of how good it feels. I’ll leave it up to you,” Stacey said as she handed Deanna a bright pink sphere. A clown nose. “All you have to do is put the nose and the changes are complete. If not, we’ll clean you up, and you can go back to being same old Deanna.” Deanna held the nose in her four-fingered gloved hand. She looked at what she had become. The pouty lips, the big hair, the big curves. Was this what she wanted? Should it feel this good? She spent what felt like a lifetime looking at her new reflection. “Very well,” Stacey said, as she turned and clicked away on her heels. She began to pack up her cart when she was spun around by Deanna wearing the clown nose. “Oh Miss Stacey! Of course I’ll be a clown with you! Thank you so much! This is just what I wanted!” She squealed as she kissed Stacey on the lips, their noses squeaking as they touched. — Two weeks later… Kayla was sitting at Starbucks flipping through the paper. “Stood up again, what a surprise. When are things going to change for me?” She sighed. She got up and picked up the paper to throw it away when an insert fell out. She picked it up and read the ad: “Want to be noticed? Want to STAND OUT? Want to be someone new?” Anonymous poster hash: 3855e...796