Elizabeth; Turnabout Gurl Contestant

Courtney was bouncing around as she came through the front door. We were a couple, six years committed to each other, three of those years living together. I was still in college, in my last semester to get my Master’s degree. She had finished her Bachelor’s degree a year ago, and was working as a receptionist in a beauty salon.

The old adage that once you get a degree, you have your choice of jobs, is a bunch of bull! The reality is that you have an education, one that doesn’t do you any good. Her degree in business management, did not open any doors, in fact, in a few instances, they just laughed at her. She spent six months looking for a job in her chosen field, then after that, she decided that any job would be alright.

Her job at the beauty salon was a chance encounter, she had to get her hair cut so she used the salon, while there, she saw the sign for the job, and asked about it. The salon manager interviewed her on the spot, and she was offered the job. It actually is a fairly decent job, the receptionist title a little misleading. She handles all of the appointments, runs the register, orders supplies, does the daily books for the salon, and generally makes sure the customers are happy with their services. If a dispute arises, she handles it, making any concessions necessary to make sure that the customer is satisfied.

It is not unusual for her to come bouncing into the apartment, just her nature, but tonight, she seems extra wound up. I had been in the living room working on my Master’s thesis, when she plopped herself down on my lap and twisted her bum on my groin, in an effort to get me attuned to her presence. Believe me I was attuned. I looked into her eyes, “Okay you have my attention, what is this all about?”

“The salon is taking part in a nationwide contest to pick a ‘Turnabout Gurl’, the winner of this contest to receive a prize worth over fifty thousand dollars.” I told her that it sounded good, is she going to enter the contest?

Well I received a well-placed punch in the arm, the sting of that still reverberating through my arm. I am going to have to reduce the time she spends at the gym, if I expect to survive her frustration at me. “The contest is for Gurls, males, who portray a female in dress and actions, they can be either a crossdresser, female impersonator or an M to F person at the start of her transition.” I immediately backed away from her, I am not sure I liked where she is headed with this. This is hard to do with her butt situated on my lap, but believe me, still somewhat possible. A lot of times she scares me, her ideas and my participation in those really left field.

I ask her to slow down, and start over from the beginning, and explain everything again.

“The chain of salons she works for is one of the primary sponsors of the contest, but the other sponsors include cosmetic companies, a chain of ladies lingerie stores, several jewelry companies, and a chain of shoe stores. There is significant prizes for second and third place also, plus, numerous gift certificates from the different sponsors. Of course, my employers wants the winner to come from within their ranks, the publicity would be worth a fortune to them.” I look at her skeptically, she can’t possibly mean for me to participate in this contest, can she?

I am five foot nine inches tall, weighing about one hundred and thirty pounds. My parents named me Elizabeth after one of the grandfathers, although how he managed to put up with a name like that, I will always wonder. Back in his time, the name might have been given to a male, but recently in my lifetime, it is usually a female’s, all with that name quite beautiful and sexy. I think there is some British influence there, but since none of my family is from England, I haven’t the slightest idea how the name came to be used. Grandpa was nicknamed Eli, a name he hated, but unfortunately was stuck with. I managed to squeak by with being called EB, a cousin started using it and soon everybody was using it. I often saw the faces of relatives using my birth name; using Elizabeth really bothered them, so my initials nickname quickly became the name to use.

I do have long hair, almost to my shoulder blades. Courtney brushes it for me all of the time, her below the ears coiffure, not requiring as much attention. I should do the brushing myself, but I am lazy, and if I can get her to do it for me, it is a win-win situation. I am not out the effort and she is occupied and not pestering me about any and everything. My features are not overly masculine, at least that is what has been told to me over the years. However, I never get mistaken for the opposite sex, so, I presume I would be classified as a somewhat normal male.

Why Courtney gets these crazy ideas is a mystery, sure we could use the money; with just her income and my part-time income, we need to watch what we spend very carefully. I still have some of the money given me for schooling, but I would like to keep that for some unexpected expense. If nothing comes up, it could be a down payment for a house for us, once I find a job, and we know where we will be settling down at.

I tried to reason with her, me as a ‘gurl’, just isn’t very plausible. The manager of her salon has told her that any volunteers from relatives or friends of employees, will receive all of their transformation services for free. They just have to agree to be in future ads for the salon if they win. She had shown my picture, from her phone, around at the salon and most of the stylists think I would do well in the contest. I did manage to get her to let it rest a while; I told her I would consider it, but don’t get your hopes up. This line of thought usually worked for me, eventually she will forget it and I would be spared the bullet, although this time I had doubts of it working.

At my part-time job, I doubt that my boss would appreciate me coming to work as a female. I am a waiter at a local restaurant, three nights a week and Saturdays. The tips are usually pretty good, that, and Courtney’s job, handling most of our expenses. Unfortunately, I didn’t anticipate Courtney’s enthusiasm on the matter, so that Sunday the subject came up again.

I had just served our supper, it being my turn to cook the meal tonight, when she blindsided me. First she told me that she had talked to my boss, her girlfriend, being my bosses’ daughter. They often talked at her girlfriend’s house when he was home, so they had a relationship of sorts. She explained everything and he had no problem with it as long as I didn’t look like a male in female clothes. Then before I could raise an objection, she showed me a picture of a cute looking girl, her features reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place where I had seen her. She sported a different hair color and hair style, of course, the makeup made quite a difference too.

Then, she laid out a set of pictures, each showing a stage in the transformation from male to female. Her salon has software to enable a picture to be morphed using specific add-ons to show the customer what they will look like after the services are rendered. The first picture was mine, and the last picture was the cute girl. I set down promptly, and buried my head in my hands. I had this bad feeling when Courtney first brought the subject up, but hoped the gods would steer me away from this path. I got hugged, and soft kisses were placed around my face, an action she knew would make me agree eventually. I brought up about my classes and school, the smile on her face told me she had handled that also.

Over the six years we had been together, she was either getting smarter or I was losing intelligence at an alarming rate. She had taken all of my excuses away from me, and now was using her feminine charms on me to convince me to participate in the contest. She ate the dinner I had served, sitting on my lap, wiggling her butt every once in a while to make sure I knew she was sitting there. Every so often, she would place a morsel of the roast beef in my mouth, then hold the glass of wine while I took a sip. I told her I was full, not really the case, but her revelations had severally affected any appetite I might have had.

When she finished, she helped me clear the table and did the dishes. I put the food away, plenty enough for another meal, if I ever recover my appetite. We made sure everything was locked up, and she dragged me upstairs. By the side of our bed she undressed me, laying my clothes over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. I was getting cold, so she retrieved a nightie from her drawer, and let it slide over my body. The matching panties soon followed. I took in a deep breath, the feeling of it sliding down my body making me shiver. It was all slippery and lacey, the combination of the two causing major stirrings in my body.

She undressed herself, put on a similar nightie and then, laid me in the bed. She spooned me for much of the night, about the time I would relax and start to drift off, she would pinch my nipples or kiss my ear, causing me to wake up. About midnight, I told her I would enter the contest, if she would allow me to go to sleep. She had worn me down, I did love her with all my heart, but she can be so exasperating at times. She pulled up against me, her warm nipples trying to bore holes in my back, and I finally drifted off to sleep about an hour later.

Several times, when I briefly woke up, she had a hold of my body as if she would lose it if she didn’t hold on tight. Around six, I had to go to the bathroom, it took me several minutes to get my body loose from her death grip on me. Then, when I returned, she latched on to me again, even tighter than before.

Her excitement was once again prevalent the next morning, now, that I had agreed to enter the contest. She knew my schedule pretty well, telling me that I needed to come to the salon at four o’clock this afternoon to register for the contest and get certified. I didn’t ask what ‘certified’ meant, my mind already going places that I didn’t want it to. I told her I would be there, then, gave her a kiss and left for my first lecture of the day.

At three thirty, I made it to the salon, and walked up to reception. She squealed, then attacked me, covering the distance between her office and where I was standing in a second or two. I got kisses and a big hug causing most of the patrons of the salon to giggle at her actions. She talked to her manager, then drug me to her car. We went to a professional building about four miles from the salon. I asked her why here, her only reply to get ‘certified’. We entered one of the doctor’s offices, a female MD in general practice.

Courtney told their nurse that we had an appointment to be certified for the contest. She checked her appointment book, found my name, then crossed it off the list and told me to follow her. I was led to an examination room and told to get undressed. She offered me a gown, white with rear air conditioning already installed. I did as I was told, I guess Courtney has done a good job in my training, always doing exactly what I am told without hesitation.

A few minutes later, a doctor came into the room, laid down a clipboard, and asked how I am doing? I smiled at her, “I will be doing much better if I can be certified; I am not sure what that means, but know that is seems to be fairly important.”

She giggles, then explains what the deal is. “For this much money as a prize, there are some people that would try and get a real female into the contest, thus not making the contest very fair. It is her job to certify that all entrants in this area are real males, possess male genitals and do not have any stage of breast development.” I doubted that any person would go to those lengths to win money, but then, thinking of some of my college friends, yeah it is a definite possibility.

I was checked out and she smiled, now you are certified. “One question, I have to mark you with a tag, one that is not removable to insure that you don’t change with someone later. There are three options available. A necklace tight enough, that you can’t remove it, a chip that is inserted under the skin of your ball sac, or a band that goes behind your penis and balls that is tight enough to not be removable. Your choice, the tag that goes on the necklace and the band state that you are a participant in the Turnabout Gurl contest, most of those I have seen so far, elect to have the band placed around their penis, since it is not visible most of the time. These have to be worn until the judging of the contest, and will be checked at that time.”

I sighed, none of the choices is what I wanted, but a tag that is visible letting everyone know that I am going to be in the contest probably the worst of the three. I definitely didn’t want anything under the skin, so the other tag is my only choice. The doctor asked if I was married, a puzzled look appeared on my face. I told her ‘no’ but we had been living together for six years, so essentially we acted as if we are married. They had an addition for the band that went around my penis, making it stand out a little more, usually causing some extra attention to the organ from the spouse. Although Courtney and I had been living together for six years, we had both decided marriage was to be left until I graduated from school, a more reasonable idea, since I was knee deep in my Master’s paper.

I smiled, yeah go ahead. “I am already doomed, and a little more humiliation is to be expected.” She had me lean back on the table and she lifted my gown. She grabbed something from a box at the end of the table and placed it around my penis and sack; she tightened it quite a bit until it was snug, then used a tool to lock it in place. “It is waterproof, will not shrink any more than it is now, and is not able to be cut with any scissors or snips. At the end of the contest, they would use the same tool to remove it, a simple procedure,” she told me. Then, she held a mirror up for me so that I could look, the pink ribbons hanging from the small bow around my penis caused me to erupt in laughter. I am sure Courtney would love it, now, if I can just get her to leave me alone enough for me to get some sleep at night.

I felt a little ridiculous with my new piece of adornment, but this whole contest is bordering on being ludicrous, and the actual contest is not even started yet. I got dressed again, knowing that the pink ribbons are around my male member, causing a slight erection. Then, the tightness of the band came into play, stopping any further expansion of my member. That possibility had never entered my mind, I am not sure I liked it, but the contest was only a few weeks off, so I figured the forced celibacy would help me to finish my thesis and pass my finals.

The salon had picked up the tab for the certification exam, so other than the embarrassment, I was okay with the procedure. Courtney drove home, still just as enthusiastic as ever. We did stop to pick up some takeout, her treat. Safely inside our apartment, she attacked the zipper on my jeans, soon I am completely naked, and she has my penis in her hands playing with the ribbons. Like a cat with a new play toy, all else is forgotten, as she inspected, squeezed, and otherwise manhandled my package.

Several times I tried to get her to stop, reminding her that the food is getting cold. I managed to slip out of the situation by telling her I had to go to the rest room. You would be surprised at how fast I can move when necessary. Now, picture going to the bathroom with a bow around my privates and pink ribbons hanging down from the bow. By the time of the judging, I imagine I will be very glad to get rid of the adornment. We won’t go into the maneuvers necessary to be able to pee and keep the ribbons dry.

As I returned to the table, she had laid out the food, paper plates and silverware. Iced tea from the refrigerator completed the make shift meal. I sat down to eat and Courtney was right behind me. Again, she sat on my lap and fed me bite by bite, that wouldn’t have been bad by itself, but the wiggling of her butt on my manhood, made it seek to expand, the band killing that off shortly after it started.

She has always liked to sit in people’s laps, why I have never been able to put a reason with it, but in my case, it is one of her favorite positions. It tends to be with male relatives, I think she enjoys frustrating them, her innocence and angelic looks assures her of getting by with it.

After her extended play period, I washed the dishes, a few moments away from her probing fingers a pleasant relief. I took some time to clean the kitchen some, the counters, and the front of the refrigerator. When I finished, I turned to see her standing in the doorway. She walked over to me, grabbed my hand and led me away, muttering to herself all the way. I was seated on the couch in the living room, with her on my lap. In the past, this happened rarely on the couch, I presume now she doesn’t want me to escape, so if she is sitting on my lap the chances of that happening are much smaller. Either that, or there is something scheduled, that she needs to insure my cooperation in.

The kisses start again, her smothering my face with pecks and smooches. “I surrender, let’s save ourselves both a lot of time and effort; what is coming up and when do I have to be there?” She pouts like a kid who has been caught with both hands in the cookie jar, but still trying to proclaim its innocence.

“Tomorrow at eight A.M. at the salon, your transformation to the female sex. Plan on all day, you can go in with me, and I will drive you home after your sex change.” That said with a little smile, and a giggle. She looked at me, expecting some grief on the plans, but I knew if I did voice an opinion, it wouldn’t make any difference, so I remained quiet. I am dragged to our bedroom, she left me temporarily, to get changed for bed.

“What do you want me to wear for my transformation?” A smile lit up her face, and she walked to her closet and pulled out a pair of pink sweats, then a pair of sandals, in a matching color. I took them from her placing them on a chair on my side of the room. The chair where I normally laid my clothes for the next day. I received help in undressing again, I know she just loves my pink ribbons and bow, can’t wait to get her hands on them.

The evening turned out to be pretty blasé, she played for a while, then cuddled me from behind, soon falling asleep with her hands on my breasts. I wondered what that would feel like when I actually had something there instead of the vast expanse of skin that was now present. I am sure any sex change will include some type of breast enlargement or breast forms at the least.

Waking up the next morning, I remembered what is to happen today, I made my way to the bathroom, somewhat feeling like I am a convict on death row. Courtney had told me to brush my teeth and run a brush through my hair, all other functions would be handled by the salon. I slipped on the sweats, after being told to not put on underwear. It felt funny, my thingy with the ribbons dangling between my legs.

I inhaled once, taking in as much air as I could, hoping that would make all of this go away. But it didn’t, Courtney taking my hand and leading me out the door. Lost in thought, the drive to the salon is in silence. I have questions, but maybe the best way to handle things is just to keep silent, what is destined to happen, will, no matter what I do. My volunteering for this, with lots of coercion on Courtney’s part, is a fact. The ribbons around my male organs, a constant reminder of my commitment to this contest.

At this point, I should point out that the salon was named Turnabout Gurl, an entrant from the salon a big boost for their business. If I should place, or win, it would be an advertising bonanza. They had tried to get more entrants from some of their other salons, but most of their male customers preferred some anonymity in their life. The use of their picture after the contest a deal breaker. So I was one of the few chosen, all or nothing, riding on the few that entered from the salons to be the national Turnabout Gurl.

Once at the salon, I am whisked away to a private treatment room, Gloria and Sally my technicians for the transformation. My sweats are removed, exposing the cute bow and ribbons, both of the girls giggling a little. I am laid on a table and examined to see what needs to be done. They stand to either side of me and explain what needs to be done to make me a female in all regards. The procedures are explained in detail, although I had told them it was not necessary. For all customers of the salon, this is standard operating procedure.

I had viewed the picture that Courtney had brought home, a picture of how I would look after the sex change, so I already had an idea of how I would look. The girls told me that I would easily best that look, the raw materials so much better than they had guessed. I guess that doesn’t say much for my masculinity. I signed an agreement, that if I placed in the competition, I would allow the salon to use my pictures and agree to participate in personal appearances to promote the salon. I am surprised that I would receive a salary for doing this, in addition to the prize money.

A thick cream is rubbed into my skin from my eyebrows to my toes. There is no spot missed, the girls doing an excellent job of coating my skin. It is left on for about a half hour, then a wet rag is used to remove it along with all my hair. Turned over for the other side, even my groin and rosebud were treated. When they finally removed the last of the cream with wet rags, I am checked to make sure they didn’t miss any spots. Then, another cream is applied and allowed to soak in, this one feeling much nicer, with a scent of flowers. I usually get excited when creams are used on me, but junior is not feeling up to his old self, I am sure the bow and ribbons exposed for all to see, has influenced his reticence.

A machine is wheeled into the room and two cups are placed on my chest. The breast like cup is glued to my chest, my nipple being the center of the cup. Hoses from the machine are attached to the cups after they had injected a fatty like substance into each cup. The pump is started and any loose tissue is pulled into the cups. It pulls the tissue steadily into the forms for about thirty minutes, then the pump becomes cyclic, running for a couple of minutes, then off then starting again. Gradually, the fatty substance disappears, and the cups slowly fill. I should mention that the breast like cups are sizable, more than I would feel comfortable with as a female. When asked about the cup size, their only comment was that they were proportionate to my body, whatever that meant.

Sally is meanwhile working on my toenails, filing and shaping them, then polishing them a bright pink. The other half of the team, Gloria is working on my fingernails, getting then into nice ovals, then adding extensions to each nail. The glue is set with UV light, causing the nail extension to turn color, the finished look almost like the natural nail. I remembered their explanation earlier, permanent until my original nail grows out.

Meanwhile, the vacuum on the machine has encouraged my erstwhile breasts to fill the cups half way. Although the machine is cycling on and off, the tissue in the cups remains steady. The nipples on my breasts are hard and pointy, like Courtney gets when I play with hers. Sally has finished with my toenails, a bright pink nail color now on each nail. It is amazing that little changes in my feet and the hairless legs transform my lower half to that of a female.

Then the scary part as my legs are slipped into stirrups at the end of the table I am laying on. Sally adds a strap to secure them there, then spreads the stirrups wide so that she can walk up right next to my groin. A cool spray is felt and then nothing. She is working down there and then I see the ribbons laying over one of my upper legs. Before I can say anything she tells me that my official certification is still there, she just has removed the ribbons from it.

Another twenty minutes with her between my legs, and she walks around to check the suction on my breasts. I raise my head to look at what she has done and take in a deep breath. My male organ is gone, replaced by a slit with two puffy lips surrounding it. I stammer, asking her what she has done with it. With a smirk on her lips, she told me that Courtney wanted to try lesbian sex, so she has used a chemical on it and dissolved it away.

Since I had no feeling down there, it is a definite possibility! Surely Courtney wouldn’t do this to me, but then, the ridiculous contest I was in, a sure easy way to make the change before I could stop it. I just stared at the ceiling, a tear or two coming to the corners of my eyes. Sally asked if I wanted the ribbons put back, I just nodded, not really focusing on what she said or was doing. I felt something sliding inside my slit, the feeling removing any breath that I might be able to take in. I wanted to look to see what she had done, but mentally, I was not ready, hell I was scared to death, she had just put something in my new female vagina.

I quietly started sobbing, I am a woman now and I have been penetrated in my most female organ. The vulnerability was there, also a little curiosity about what had been inserted in me. I finally gave into the curiosity and looked down at my vagina. There in all of its glory was my ribbons sticking out from between my new lips. I used my hand to move them to the side and felt movement in my new orifice.

It felt good, a pleasure spreading throughout my body, as if every nerve in my body was connected to those ribbons. Two different colored ribbons, much longer than the rest had been added, and Sally took them and tied a bow behind my back with the loose ends. She assured me that they would keep the dildo from falling out, which was the piece that my ribbons had been attached to. I suddenly felt very woozy, did she just say that I had a dildo in my vagina? No, that is not right, since I am a male I can’t have a vagina, much less have a dildo inserted in it.

I must have fainted, passed out, or otherwise become unaware of what was happening. The next thing I remembered was waking up, strange feelings roaming my body. I looked around, then, saw Courtney out of the corner of my eye. She had the biggest smile on her face, then reached down and pulled on her toy, just like a cat, causing my body to arch in pleasure and shiver until I passed out again.

It was quite a few minutes before Sally could resume my transformation. I just laid there breathing hard and trying to take in sufficient breath to maintain consciousness. The tingles were still being felt, and when I finally lifted my head to look, my ribbons were still embedded in my vagina. Courtney was holding my hands, both of them together while rubbing the palm of my hand with her thumbs. That alone was keeping me aroused.

Sally then starts on my hair, washing and conditioning it several times. Picking up scissors and a comb, she trims off the split ends, then starts shaping my feminine hairstyle. With my hair almost to my shoulder blades she has plenty to work with, so I am sure I would end up with a decidedly feminine hairstyle. As I watched in the mirror, the image I am watching went past the feminine, right to absolutely gorgeous. The new style framed my face, helping my round face look more like the ideal oval of a beautiful female.

As Gloria finished, she started adding highlights to my hair, painting some coloring on locks of my hair and then wrapping them in foil. The end result looked comical, like an alien trying to communicate with her spaceship. I say her, for the image could never be connected to a male individual. Those had to process for thirty minutes, so Sally eliminated the rest of my eyebrows while waiting for the hair dye to process. Two small lines highly arched over my eyes did remain, but unless they were penciled in, they were far from being obvious or masculine.

Four hours into my transformation, there is very little if any male left. The highlights had finished processing, so the foil is removed and my hair rinsed. Another conditioner is applied to my strands and then all of my hair is wound on curlers. From small ones at my neck to larger ones on top of my head, no hair is left out. Moved to a dryer, the timer set for fifty minutes, I am allowed to cook for a while. My mind is desperately trying to handle the changes in me. The rhythmic pulse of the machine creating breasts for me, my hair in curlers, my body now totally hair free, and my nails painted a pinkish red all new sensations to this body. Then, I remembered the pink bow around the dildo buried deep in my vagina, how appropriate for the new female. The image in the mirror across the room, definitely female, the cups on my chest now almost full.

The timer shut down the dryer, Gloria came to check my hair, then moved me and the machine back to a styling station. The machine’s hoses are unhooked but the cups stay on, the vacuum still keeping the new breast tissue firmly against the sides of the forms. Sally checks the forms, telling me they have to stay on until the tissue stabilizes, then returns a few minutes later with two syringes. Before I realize what she is doing I get a shot in the nipple of each breast, right through the hole where the hoses attach. I thought about asking what the shot is for, but I feared I would not like the answer, so that question is placed with the multitude of others to be asked at some later time if ever.

Gloria removes the curlers, the tight curl remaining even though the curler is no longer there. The curls and the highlights make my hair look so different. Each curl is gently teased, the curls now spiraling down my neck and back. The ones on top of my head are gathered together some, and pinned into place. The look is quite feminine, the color and gentle curls helping to make my face so gurly. As Courtney wanted, I do seem to fit the definition of a ‘Turnabout Gurl’.

I received a few clothes, and am helped to dress. A nightgown type of dress and a pair of panties, but at least I am no longer naked. What I am actually wearing, not perceived by my mind yet; it still was fixated on the gorgeous female in the mirror. As I am helped into some heels, things begin to register, for one thing, I am much taller and hardly able to stand by myself. They show me how to properly walk, then, let me walk around the salon to get used to the footwear. The shorter steps and placing one foot in front of the other, did help my stability though.

I found out that the forms stay on, over a day or two they dissolve leaving nothing but soft jiggling breasts. So, I now needed a bra, a cream colored lacey number that held the breast cup gently in its embrace. For some reason, that felt good for my breasts to be gently held in the bra’s cups. I received a little more modest dress, but still silky and very distracting.

When Courtney finishes for the day, I am actually able to walk to her car. The ride home is quiet, both of us with a lot to think about. I do notice that she is looking at me, every chance she gets, taking in all aspects of my appearance. When we arrive home, I wander off to the kitchen to find something to make for supper, and she heads to the bedroom to change clothes. When she returns she helps warm the offerings I have found, complimenting me on my selections.

The subject we are both dreading comes up while we eat, I admit to her that the changes done so far have changed my appearance drastically. I can’t even see any male persona left, the extreme femininity had totally erased any male characteristics that I might have had. I ask her with an unsteady voice, if my loss of male looks will affect our relationship? I know she was attracted to me for my male looks and body, now, having me as a female was sure to affect our friendship, but most importantly our relationship.

Courtney smiles, “Yes, the male you has disappeared. I still want your little fella, but what has replaced your male looks, has turned me on to such a degree that I want to pull you aside and ravage you whenever I get a glimpse of you. You have no idea what your new look does to me, my nipples have been rock hard all day, and I have changed my panties three times today to avoid the wetness that seeps out every time I catch a glimpse of you.”

With that statement, I am led to our bedroom and she proceeds to do as she has wanted all day. The first thing she does is to remove the dildo and ribbons from my snatch. Over the next twenty minutes, I am made love to, the end result is that I am a puddle of goo. I know the only thing saving me was the somewhat stiff cups protecting my new chest additions. If they had been available to be played with, no telling the outcome of that evening. I presume I came, I felt several releases as she shoved her fingers into my new vulva. The reason for my assumption is, the cum flowing from my new vagina. Something only Courtney has experienced in the past after sex with me. She tried to get me up to take a shower, but I doubted I could even sit up, my body totally exhausted from the sex that we had experienced. It was more than just a release that I felt as a male, this was a total overall body release, every part of my body seemed to be affected.

With a smirk, she went to the bathroom, returned with something in her hand. She leaned over me blocking my sight of what she is doing and then I felt something being slid into my vagina, when she sat up, I had a string hanging out of my slit. OMG, she inserted a tampon in me! Now what do I do, I swear I can feel it expanding in my vagina, soaking up my cum. I am sure that is not one of the intended purposes of a tampon. I was assured that I would appreciate it by morning, the wet gooey cum dripping out of me all night, an unpleasant side effect of our love making.

The ribbons and dildo were laid to the side, ready to be reinserted in the morning after my shower. A smile appearing on Courtney’s face, again, her favorite plaything ready and waiting for her favorite gurl.

The shower the next morning was invigorating, I washed everywhere, my new female sex getting a lot of attention. As my hand wiped over the orifice with the sponge loaded with soap, I get tingles all through my body. It seemed most of my body now was just a large erogenous zone. My new slit, my upper thighs, anywhere around my breasts, even my ears, once stimulated, I was quickly turned to goo. I managed to dress in my new clothes, another day at the salon again for me, for some lessons in keeping the look fresh and inviting.

At the salon, I was put through my paces, having to style my hair and do my makeup myself until I got the jest of things. Some lessons in deportment, sitting, stooping in a feminine manner, and more practice walking in heels. The ones I have on now with a five inch heel height. I had a class late today, so I was excused so I could attend. Definitely not looking forward to it.

It turned out to be no big deal, no comments made, one female recognizing me, wanting to have an explanation later on why I was prettier than her now. One guy asked for my phone number, I declined telling him my girlfriend was very jealous.

Tonight was one of my nights to work, so after the class, I headed to the restaurant. My boss was waiting for me, wanting to make sure I looked appropriate. I got a hug from him, but insisted that I dress as a female from now on, a definite plus for the business. Getting on the new uniform for me was touch and go, one of the other waitresses helped me, I thanked her profusely for her help. Believe me it was different and took some time getting used to it. My new cleavage was now visible, and way more of my legs was visible than I preferred.

There was another small problem, the ribbons hanging from the dildo came to just above the hem of my uniform, Julie the waitress that helped me said I was okay, the ribbons might even help with my tips. Other than the long nails, I didn’t have much trouble, although I did receive a couple of hands on my butt during the evening. The one good thing was the tips I received. I made three times what I made as a male, even though I had less customers that evening. Maybe being a gurl more often is worth looking into.

When I got home, I undressed, the bra the first thing that got removed after the dress was slid off. I appreciated the support, but the band being removed felt so good. Of course, Courtney was there to help, but her cupping my new breasts was not necessarily much help. I know, after her touches, my nipples were rock hard. It was late and I had a class at 10 the next morning, so she did allow me to slip into bed. The nightgown was a baby doll barely reaching the bottom of my panties. The ribbons were visible peaking from around the edges of the panties, I know the dildo had made a lasting impression on me all day, as it rubbed my captured male organ. So utterly frustrating.

Although Courtney was playing with her toy, I lost consciousness, the day’s activities taking its toll on me. The next morning, I was awoken with Courtney’s lips on my nipples. Somehow they had become even more sensitive to touch, her tongue sliding over my nipple causing me to awake instantly. That was it for sleep, I finally headed to the shower to get away from her ministrations.

Dressed and off to my classes, I was early for my first class, so I sat and made some notes for my Master’s paper that I was working on. I received a lot more attention than normal, from the gals that wasn’t all bad. From the guys I was very leery. At times there were three or four guys standing around me trying to engage me in conversation. Looking around I noticed that other attractive females were in the same boat as I. From a Master’s candidate to a gorgeous female takes a lot of getting used to. Being gorgeous was not my opinion, but several of my admirers were using that phrase with regards to me.

Luckily for me the contest judging is only a few days away. Maybe I can survive until then. Once judged I can return to my former self, letting all of this just fade away. Somehow I doubted that would happen, my hair with highlights and long lasting curls, my breasts that were sucked from my body might go away with time, but we are talking months not days.

I did get some work done on my master’s thesis, the last parts needed to finish the paper, now I just need to edit it, check for continuity and then prepare my arguments to justify my reasoning in the paper. Since most of the professors listening to my thesis would be males one look at my image, and I might be able to strike a sexy pose and get the needed approval with my new looks. Gawd, there is no hope for me. I have already went over to the dark side, thinking about using my looks to get what I want, a feminine approach as if there was any doubt I had been assimilated.

Two more days of classes occurred, both quite tame except for some unwanted male attention. Now the judging day, I will be finally through with this stupid contest. I awoke early, I had an appointment at the salon for the final touches, then the judging at three this afternoon. The salons had set up a closed circuit TV network so that each contestant could be evaluated before a panel of judges. Since the contestants were spread all across the country, about the only way to handle the judging. At one time the finals were going to be held in Arizona, but too many of the contestants had prior commitments, making that approach unfeasible.

Each contestant was given a short interview, then we walked up and down the salon for the cameras. A close up shot of our faces, then a slow scan of our body from our hair to our toes. After an hour I was one of fifteen finalists, how that happened had me worried and concerned. I agreed to the contest to keep Courtney off my case, I really did not want to win, hell I didn’t even want to be one of the finalists. Things were not looking good for me, I thought of withdrawing from the contest now, before any further decisions had been made. I scraped that idea when I saw the look of anticipation on Courtney’s face. If I withdrew I would never hear the end of it from my girlfriend. Another hour and we were down to five contestants, unfortunately I was one of the final five.

By now I had been up and down the salon way too many times, I even tried to fake tripping and losing my balance hoping that would let me out of the running for the top spot. My fellow contestants were not prepared as well, for every attempt for me to throw the contest, they made worse mistakes. I was now sweating bullets, as they named the final five places in the contest.

I held my breath, hoping as every place was announced that my name would be spoken. I guess I have extremely bad karma, because as each name was announced, it was not mine. Finally the Turnabout Gurl is Elizabeth, representing the salon in Phoenix. I didn’t hear any further words because I fainted. I came to, still lying on the floor with a towel laid over my forehead and a larger towel covering my body. Once they saw I was lucid, I was helped up and taken to a chair in the waiting area of the salon. I looked around everybody had smiles on their faces, Courtney bouncing around the salon hugging and kissing ever body she could catch. Once she saw I was coherent she headed my way, landing on my lap and planted a sizzling kiss on my lips as she held each side of my head preventing me from evading the kiss or backing away. Once our lips were parted I tried to get air into my lungs, her kiss left me breathless and shaking like a leaf.

Then I remembered winning the damn contest, the reason for my fainting. Then I saw Francine, Courtney’s boss coming my way. She had a huge smile on her face, when she saw me withdraw a little she picked up her pace catching me before I could make a getaway. With my hand firmly in hers I was dragged back to her office. She closed the door behind me, pointing to a couch on one side of the room. I sat down, trying to remember my lessons that I received a few days ago as to how a lady sits properly.

“Well, Elizabeth you came through for us, winning the contest so easily. From the time you entered there was no doubt as to the eventual winner. Now we need to discuss the next year as the reigning Turnabout Gurl. I have checked with your school, knowing that your master’s presentation is coming up soon. Do you need help with it or have you finished the paper?”

I told her it is finished, I just need to check for mistakes and then schedule a time for its presentation. She handed me a piece of paper, as I looked at it the dean of the school is listed and his home phone number. I looked back at Francine my eyebrows raised a little. She smiled. “He is a customer of the salon, but prefers to stay low key. Call him when you decide you are ready and he will schedule you a time whenever you request. As for your professors they have already been briefed by your faculty advisor, there should be no difficulty with your presentation then acceptance of the paper.”

“Now as soon as you get the paper submitted, you have lots of duties as the Turnabout Gurl. Of course, you will be paid for your time, your schedule is quite full, visiting all the salons in my chain and the stores of the sponsors will take at least a year. You will be properly prepared and touch-ups as needed to keep your appearance top notch. I am sure Courtney will accompany you to make sure you represent the position properly. All expenses will be paid by the contest, your wardrobe is already put together including lingerie, blouses, skirts and dresses. Of course shoes and jewelry to make sure you look your feminine best. At each stop along the way you will visit our salon to make sure your makeup, hair and nails are at their best. Full page advertisements will be run in every town visited to make sure that any party interested will be able to visit and talk to you.”

“Since you are a representative of my chain of salons I will pay you a salary for the entire year, the publicity you generate for the salons will more than offset that expense. That about wraps it up, let me know when you have submitted the paper and I make arrangements for your transportation to the first stop. You will experience another full day at the salon so they we can make you as feminine as possible. I am sure you will enjoy the treatments.”

I was pulled to my feet, hugged and kissed on the cheek, then she scooted me out the door. I was still in shock, a year of being a feminine female for the contest, I don’t remember anything about this in the info about the contest. I stood there outside her office, trying to get my thoughts together. I looked down at my body, nothing male left, about as feminine as a female can be. I stepped forward, then another step, each step I advanced I was accepting my future, that of a Turnabout Gurl. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Then I saw Courtney bouncing her way towards me, nope I don’t think it will be bad at all.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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