Sally; Breasts Of My Own

I earned my living as a consultant, advising people in how to invest their money and hold on to what they had in today’s economy. I purposefully selected only female clients, most males think they know better and do not listen to the advice I give them. Then, when they lose a chunk, they blame me for steering them wrong. I avoid all of that drama by not taking them as clients in the first place. I have managed over the years, to amass quite a few clients, mostly in the upper echelon of business, across a large spectrum of business types.

I am a male, twenty-five years of age, who is reasonably handsome, at least my Mom thinks so, but you have to remember that Moms are prejudiced. I have dated often, but for some reason none of my dates have piqued my interest further, so the second date never materializes. I am fairly tall for a male at five foot ten inches in height, and due to my constant running and exercising, I weigh in at just over a hundred and forty pounds. I was named after my Father, but a name I actually abhorred. He was always called Sol, his actual name Solomon. Since his family had European roots, they liked the name, wanting their son to have a taste of the old country. But for this day in time, the name is a death sentence for a young male.

I was never interested in sports, my thin and lithe body not cut out for any type of contact sports. My height was right for basketball, but the first time I played I picked myself off the floor five times, a body block sending me sprawling. That ended my involvement in basketball.

I loved math in school, that love transferred to economics as I progressed through grade school. By my senior year in high school, I had a small portfolio that I played around with, ensuring that my interest never wandered far from finance. I had to work some during college because the school that I had chosen was more expensive than where my folks were planning for me to attend. I gathered a few more stocks as I made my way through college, every dime I could scrounge being used to get me ahead somehow. By graduation, I already had several customers and my portfolio was quite extensive. I was making a comfortable living, nothing extra for bigger purchases, but food and a place to stay was easily within my budget.

I am heterosexual, looking for someone to love and spend my life with, but those that I have encountered so far, lack any reasons for me to continue with them. Most of the conversations end up about what I do, and if I had financial advice for them. As soon as I tell them that they have to be a client of mine before I give any advice, the date pretty much dies a slow death.

I offered financial advice to all of my clients, whether they decided to take advantage of it is their private concern. Most everything I offered was doled out identically so there were never any favorites among my customers. A few required something designed just for them, due to some special circumstance within their lives, for that I offered them that special something but at a hefty price tag.

One of the most interesting clients is a self-made millionaire, a woman who has developed her business idea into a chain of salons that cater to a specific type of customer. She has since then, added other types of businesses to her portfolio, each one a success in a short amount of time. She listened to my financial advice, but picking and choosing what she invested in. We became friends over time and often had meals together, at a restaurant or sometimes at one of her many homes spread across the U.S.

Sometimes, the topics of conversation ventured from the normal. When I found out what her shops did for their customers, I was shocked. She has had great success at what she does, but I just couldn’t see a male wanting breasts and to be made to look like a female. The discussion came up often, usually while she has this big smile plastered on her face. I had a feeling she was teasing me a little, her huge grin showing whenever the subject came up.

One particular night, we had celebrated her recent investment that had made her a lot of money. I had given her the advice, but the amount of money she invested in the idea, made me shudder. It paid off for her, now almost a quarter million dollars richer than she was a few days ago. I am happy for her, not that she needed the money, but knowing that she would spend or invest the money wisely.

Her next words will always be embedded in my mind, they were seriously stated while holding one of my hands as we were out eating at a new restaurant. She told me she would pay me the quarter million if I succumbed to breast enlargement at one of her salons. I started to respond, but she squeezed my hand and told me to shut up and listen before I make a comment.

“My technicians will give you C cup size breasts, and if you keep them in for a year, I will give you another hundred thousand as a bonus. The procedure is reversible, taking about four months to return to your original flat chest. Now, if you choose to succumb to any of our other treatments that we offer, I will pay you a fee proportional to the type of treatment you select.”

“When we have talked, you always were shocked that any male would submit to these procedures, but also, not embracing what is going through their minds. To you, they are not mentally stable, not worthy to be called a member of society. I think you will change your opinion drastically when you get a chance to look at it through a different set of eyes. So, do we have a deal, a little over a third of a million dollars for a year of your time? Since you do most of your business over the phone, it should not affect your income much. Can your male ego embrace something different for a while? As an incentive for you to cooperate, I will keep my investments with you if you agree, if you decide to forego that, I will take my business elsewhere. I know this is sudden, so take the night to think about it, let’s meet for lunch tomorrow, for you to let me know your decision.”

Just like that she ended the conversation got up and gave me a hug, then walked out of the restaurant. I sat there for the longest time, trying to make some sense of what just happened. I paid the check and returned home, still dazed at what she had told me. The money is enticing, especially for not having to do any work to get it. After some of our earlier discussions, I had researched the topic of males dressing as females, curiosity having got the better of me. I understood a few of their desires, no longer thinking they were mentally unstable, but had never discussed my findings with Francine.

Several times that night, I had made up my mind to refuse the money, only to reconsider it. I tried to figure out how it might affect me other than I would now have a female appearance on my chest for the next year. I doubted it would cause me many problems business wise, I seldom interact with my clients in person, but there is still some doubt. If I lost some business, the money she is offering would easily replace any lost income. I then wondered if having breasts would be visible to others when I ran or went to the gym, a most disconcerting thought indeed. I had watched female runners before, their breasts bouncing some, but not wildly, so I googled it and found out a sports bra would be necessary if I chose to run with breasts, the bra able to partially minimize the bouncing and swaying.

Then there is the gym, I usually wore just a t-shirt and shorts, so they would not conceal any type of enhancement on my chest. I knew I would be out of my comfort zone if I did this, maybe I could find someone to help me with solutions to the problems I knew I would encounter. I never did come to a conclusion that evening, even the next morning, I am still indecisive about what to do. The money though is a powerful persuader, as I dressed to go to lunch I had almost decided to take the deal.

The closer I got to the restaurant, the more nervous I became. Then the name of the diner for today’s rendezvous came to mind, it is called the Sexy Lady, after the owner of the place. She had started the diner years ago, when she starred in a local production of a play called ‘The Sexy Lady’. Of course, the name stuck, her image fitting the name she was bestowed in the play. I entered the diner and made my way to where Francine is seated. We frequently ate there, their lunches quite a deal for the money. Since a lot of her customers are female, she offered twenty something different types of salads, with almost any type of dressing you can imagine.

Somehow I doubted today’s choice of restaurant was just a coincidence, there had to be more to it than that. When I arrived I walked over to her table and seated myself. She had that smile again, I think she had known all along what I would decide, money being more of a draw to me than most things. She informed me that she had already ordered for me, did I want to change or is the usual alright? I told her the usual is fine. I swallowed a couple of times, then told her I had a couple of questions to ask about her proposal. She nodded her head, but stared at me, making me very uncomfortable.

I asked, “When do I get the quarter million payment. Then, if I decide on doing this, how much would it cost me to get them removed after the year? The other options she mentioned, what monetary value is assigned to each and are they also reversible?”

She paused a few moments, then replied. “Always the realist, aren’t you. This is something we need to get out of that pretty little head of yours. You can’t live life in a vacuum and this is what you are doing. Other than your business, you have very few friends, you never go out, the few times you eat with me, the only excursions out of your home or office as far as I know. There is a big world out there, lots of fun things to do, you just need to loosen up and indulge in a few of them. The breasts will make you noticeable, and I will ensure you are out and about, then we will go from there.”

“This is a list of services that we offer that I will pay you for agreeing to have them done to you. As you can see some of them are more intrusive, but all of them can be reversed at a later date. If after the year you want to have all of this reversed, I will pay all your expenses in full to have it done. The payment of the quarter million is to be divided into twelve equal monthly parts paid the first of the following month. I will add one further stipulation, if after the year you decide to stay as a female, I want one year of publicity of your change to be used for advertising purposes. For that I will pay you another hundred thousand in salary.”

“I have the contracts here with me, look them over as we eat, and if you are still agreeable, sign on the bottom line as I have you scheduled for your procedure this afternoon at three PM.” The swiftness of her actions worried me a little, but then she had always acted quickly and decisively in the past. “Incidentally, I have set you up with one of my best technicians, who will handle all of your procedures that you choose to engage in, privately and professionally as always.”

I had lost most of my appetite, the dread of what I am considering doing is mounting, my muscles are tensed tightly, like I am walking a tight rope. I rub my neck a little trying to get some of the tension out, but to no avail. I did look over the contract in detail, everything she had stated there in plain English, no legal mumbo jumbo. Just like Francine, in everything she does, a formal contract so that any doubts or concerns are stated clearly before any procedures are performed. As I am getting ready to make my decision, my breathing became labored, and I almost fainted. I wiped my brow since I am sweating like I had run a four minute mile, my heart beating wildly.

I finally put my thoughts aside and signed the agreement, relaxing a little since I had made the decision, whether right or wrong, it had been made. She handed me a copy of the contract and gave me a piece of paper with the address of the salon and my technician’s name on it. I am to ask for Priscilla when I arrive at reception, and would soon be outfitted with my rack, as males seem to like to call the breasts of a female.

Francine gave me a hug when we left the diner, telling me to just accept the change, don’t fret about it, half of the population live with breasts every day, and they make it through life without much trouble, so I think you will also be able to do so. Priscilla is extremely knowledgeable in these things and can be of great assistance if you will let her help. It is a few minutes after two when we leave the diner, so I decide to head over to the salon. It is always best to handle something you are dreading early, so you can move on to other things. The fact that the dread is threatening to dislodge everything in my stomach is also a concern.

I enter the salon, and ask for Priscilla, a gorgeous redhead comes to the front, introduces herself and leads me back to one of the treatment rooms. I am told to get undressed, my body hair needs to be removed before she can give me a set of breasts. She is very straightforward, never treating me as anything but a respected customer. As she is covering the front of my body in a cream, she is asking a little about me. Surprisingly, I open up to her, telling her what I do for a living and how I came to know Francine. The talk between us is cordial, her asking me questions to keep my mind occupied and not thinking of what is to come.

When she asked me to turn over, I gave her a funny look, she noticed the look, then explained that I would stand out with my front side hair free and my backside covered in body hair. I relaxed and swiftly, I am hair free from the neck down, both front and back. Then, she wheeled in a large machine, with cups descending from hoses attached to some type of pump or motor. It looked intimidating, but when she attached the cups to my chest, centering then over my nipples, I swallowed hard. The breast cups were glued in place, then fatty tissue is added to the cups through two syringes. The hoses are attached and the pump is turned on, as some of my extraneous tissue is quickly sucked into the forms.

From the looks of the forms, the additions to my chest are going to be quite noticeable. I had signed and agreed to C cup breasts, never knowing exactly what a C sized cup looked like. From the size of the forms, I suddenly realized I will be considered well-endowed, at least by my fellow males. Ooops, that also will make me possibly sought after by them too. Too late now to take that into consideration.

The pump alternated sucking on and off, but when the pump is not actively sucking the tissue remains in the forms and filling the cups as the vacuum is still holding. As the pump is doing its thing, Priscilla stayed and talked with me, asking if I had questions that I might want answered. She knew it is too late to decide to not experience the feeling of breasts, but maybe she could answer other questions I might have. I asked her point blank, how can I get through this with the least trouble and disruption in my life? She smiled, but told me if I am interested, she would help me for the first week, in dealing with my thoughts and with my new breasts.

“A lot of males are not aware of how much feeling a female receives through her breasts, both pleasure and pain. They are an unavoidable fact of being a woman, attached to her chest permanently, making their presence known at the most inopportune times. They resist being hidden, don’t like to be squashed or binded. They respond to heat and cold, also to other people that your body is interested in. To make them livable with, they need the support of a bra, helping to minimize any undue nipple reactions that might cause some embarrassment. They usually require a different sleeping arrangement, laying on your stomach, not a very comfortable position for most females. Since you will have a set of your own, you will experience all of the above and more.”

She took a moment to bring me a diet drink, and a power bar, figuring that I might be hungry. I quickly devoured both of the items quickly, the little of my luncheon salad that I ate, not doing much for filling me up. Now that the decision had been made, my nervousness had calmed some and my appetite returned. I looked down at my progress, the cups were over half filled, my nipples are puffy and sticking out proudly. I began to realize all of the implications that having breasts would add to my existence, sadly too late to change any of this. The stupid things I agree to, when impulse and money seemed to be at stake.

Another two hours passed before the machine is turned off, the cups on my chest filled to capacity. Priscilla is still talking to me trying to keep my mind off of the obvious. She explains that the breast tissue still needs to stabilize some. The forms actually stay on, dissolving away after a couple of days. She asks my intentions, was I thinking of keeping them for the year, or did I just want to make some quick money and then have them removed? I told her that I will keep them for the whole year, maybe learning a thing or two about females in the process. She suggested two shots, one in each nipple, to make the breast tissue more realistic, not just some tissue sucked into breast like objects. It would not change the possibility of removal later, but I would experience more of the feelings that a female has with breasts. I agreed, she soon returned with two syringes.

I immediately covered the forms with my hands, trying to protect them from getting stabbed with the syringes. I never was a fan of receiving shots, and now the possibility of getting one right in the nipple of my new breasts is scaring me to death. She laid a towel over my eyes so I could not see her doing the dastardly deed, put my hands to my sides and all too soon, it is over. I never felt a thing, her smile at my consternation at how she had done it with such ease. I later learned she went through the connection for the suction hose and pierced the nipple, injecting the liquid directly into it.

It didn’t feel any different, I did notice the considerable weight now on my chest. Then, she touched the nipple of the form, gently grasping and squeezing it, that I felt in a big way! Minutes later, I am still feeling tingles all over my body. I lifted my own hand to my nipple and rubbed a finger over it, the forms were already getting pliable, holding the shape, but allowing some feeling of the breast underneath. My deep and sudden intake of breath, a sign of the reaction, I felt when I touched my nipple. Priscilla offered me a bra, plain cotton, but soft and very form fitting. When my breasts slid into the cup of the bra, I felt supported and the nipple somewhat protected. A very pleasant feeling, one that would take some time to get used to and probably quite necessary.

Looking in the mirror, I then realized that the changes would affect me more than I had imagined. Either I had to dress as a female, or I would be a laughing stock as a male. The protrusion from my chest is significant, probably too much to hide with baggy clothes or multiple layers. I stared at the image for quite a while, thinking that maybe a solution might just pop out and I would embrace it. It never did.

Priscilla helped me get dressed, of course, my shirt wouldn’t fit so she got me a blouse that was cut to allow for the new breasts. “Do you still want some help, or do you want to suffer alone by yourself?”

“Yes please, this is all so new, I am not even sure of my thoughts yet. How about I order some pizza and salads for tonight, you can come to my home and we can talk?”

“Nope, I have a better idea. I will bring a change of clothes with me for you, and we will go out to a quiet restaurant and then talk. You are not going to be allowed to hide, the sooner you face your fears, the sooner you can start enjoying your life. I will be there around seven, take a nice hot bath and play with your new assets, they are yours now, you need to get used to them.”

She pushed me out of the room, right into the midst of the salon. I was fearing being stared at and comments about my sexuality, but nothing happened. I walked out to my car, got in and backed out. Before I got out of the parking lot, I had to stop for a minute. As I turned the steering wheel, my arms touched my breasts. I ended up holding my arms differently so that any contact would be reduced. Every touch of my breasts seemed to cause the nipple to harden, the feeling then spreading to my whole breast. The bra did help, I can’t imagine being without it and able to do anything without considerable embarrassment.

As I arrived home, I parked in the garage and then made my way to the front door. I was not paying attention to my neighbors, when Julia from next door came up to me. She looked me over, complimented me on the blouse, and then followed me inside. She is also a client, been with me almost as long as Francine. I laid my keys on the kitchen table, then asked her what she wanted to drink.

She had been to my house enough she felt comfortable getting things herself, so she opened the refrigerator and took out two diet drinks. We set at the table sipping our drinks, the smirk on her face almost to explode into a fit of giggles. I was still in shock, less than an hour after acquiring my assets, I was already found out, probably to be utterly humiliated after her shock wears off.

Finally, she has had enough. “Either you tell me about your new figure, or I am going to strip you down to bare skin and check out things myself. No change that, I am going to do both, now strip before I help you. We are both apparently females now, so that excuse won’t work any longer.” I pushed my chair back some, this is a side of Julia I haven’t seen before. She got up from her chair and approached me, while I was swallowing hard, trying to find a way out of this.

She hugged me tightly, keeping me pulled to her as I fought back the tears. For a minute I tried to extricate myself from her grip, but then just relented and snuggled in closer to her. After a few minutes, the tears calmed down some, and she pulled back and lifted my blouse over my head. I didn’t fight it, even when she went behind me to undo my bra. The bra fell away and I stood there, my nipples already embarrassing me by their pointed protrusions.

Julia caressed them a couple of times, then lightly squeezed the nipples. My knees started to give way, the feeling of millions of tingles spreading throughout my body. She got me back in the chair and then scooted her chair right up next to mine and held my hands in hers. I started telling her about Francine, about the deal, and that it would be at least for a year. For some reason that thrilled her, she started talking about shopping, about all the lingerie I needed, and about how much fun I was going to have.

We moved ourselves to the living room, setting on the couch, where I was enveloped in several more hugs and some more touching. She did help me get my bra back on and the blouse. She asked if I had any more female clothes, when I told her no, she hurried out of the house back to her place. Twenty minutes later she returned with an arm full of dresses and skirts. I shrugged my shoulders surrendering to the inevitable.

Julia and I played dress up for the next hour, me trying outfits on and modeling them for her. I wanted no part of it to start, but then got caught up in the game, finally, enjoying myself some. It is amazing how different clothes change your look and, yes, even your actions. We decided on an outfit, but after I had told her about Priscilla coming over, she pushed me off to the bathroom. She started the water running in the tub, but then ran back home. A few minutes later, she was pouring something into the tub, the scent and the bubbles exploding through the bathroom. The scent was carnations, and it filled my lungs and seemed to coat my body. She made me stay in the tub for an hour, I am sure the scent now embedded in my skin forever. My breasts were floating near the surface, bobbing around as I moved my body some in the tub. I finally got out of the tub, grabbed a towel to keep me covered and went to my bedroom.

Julia had already laid out an outfit for me to wear, as soon as I saw it, I backed away from the bed. Trying on clothes earlier wasn’t so bad, put on, model them a little, and then take them off. Julia had in mind that this is what I would wear until Priscilla got here, maybe longer, if Priscilla liked the combination. Somehow my male clothes had been stashed out of my sight. Julia was circling me with a devious look about her. Then, in a quick maneuver she grabbed my towel, leaving me naked. I started over to my dresser, then stopped when she stood in front of it, pointing to the bed.

If I wanted clothes, it would be what is on the bed, period. I grabbed the bra first, my breasts swaying around as I moved most disconcerting. I got my arms through the straps, and she helped fasten the closure in the back. The forms used to create the breasts now quite soft, easily moved or rubbed, the touches transmitted immediately to the tissue underneath. She had me lift my breasts and settle them in the bra, a weird sensation for a male. Next, she adjusted the straps and made sure they were even. Panties were next, the silky material sliding over my leg, causing bunches of tingles that attacked my mind. I had to adjust myself before the panties fit properly, essentially tucking the little fella back between my legs. Ever since the breasts appeared on my body, he has been shy, and barely visible preferring to stay hidden. Now tucked away it was slightly uncomfortable, but after a while it was livable with.

The dress was next, also in a devious combination of material and designed to assault my body. When the dress was lowered to my shoulders and the hem dropped to my knees, I quickly sat on the bed. I doubted my knees would hold out in supporting my body in an upright position. If wearing female clothes is this sensuous, the male sex needs to convert and soon. Maybe it is just the novelty of it, whether that or something else, the feelings coursing through my body were real and affecting me greatly.

She handed me some stockings, showing me how to put them on, the first rolled up stocking that I put my leg into sent rumbles through my body, it was almost like the first stages of an orgasm, but the rumbles seemed centered deeper in my body affecting every cell in my being. The elastic at the top of the leg holding them up. When I slid my leg into the second stocking, it was too much. I blushed red, the blush seemed to quickly spread throughout. I was looking at my toes encased in the nylon, they also seemed to be turning red at my actions. I excused myself, having to go to the bathroom to clean up, Julia handed me a clean pair of panties before I reached the door, knowing exactly what had happened.

For some one that hardly had any kind of release when having sex, to be excited to the point of ejaculation just by putting on hosiery, probably qualified me for the hall of fame. I chuckled at that thought, a few hours into this and already I am someone famous and to be looked up to. After I cleaned up, and changed my panties, I returned to the bedroom to be slipped back into the dress for today. She slid up the zipper at the back of the dress, the bodice of the dress compressing around my chest. There was no need to change the stockings, what I was wearing was a pair of thigh high stockings that made my legs look feminine, dainty and so sexy.

More wonderful feelings to be dealt with, I can see that I will need lots of fresh underwear, at this rate. The doorbell rang and I headed to the door, I knew it was Priscilla, the look on her face when I opened the door priceless. I invited her in, introduced her to Julia, and the two of them talked about my current position like I wasn’t even in the room. Priscilla showed her the dress she brought for me to wear to the restaurant, a quick conference between the two, and I was soon encased in the new dress.

Never a reference to a male that existed a few days ago, only to the new persona named Sally that currently inhabited that body. I have no idea where the name Sally came from, it sounded okay so I was now officially Sally. A brush to my hair, a pair of clip-on earrings, a touch of lipstick and I was dragged to the door in my heels. I was still protesting as the door closed behind me, my keys in Priscilla’s purse. One on each arm, and I was steered to her waiting car, shown how to enter the car in a lady like manner, and then they waited while I hooked the seat belt.

Their discussion was about my feelings, both of them suggesting that I get used to the look and the corresponding clothing. Francine is not going to let you hide or hibernate. Out and about is the new buzz word, so a certain young woman better get used to it. The restaurant they went to was busy, even a line at the door. I tried to drag my feet, but the two of them wanted me right in the middle of things. When I didn’t talk to the other people in line, I was elbowed, making me speak up to avoid a broken rib. Priscilla in particular is especially handy with her elbow.

It was comical at first, I was trying to find a voice that was in the feminine range, my screeches and squeals receiving some giggles. I finally just talked normal, although I did keep my volume down from how I normally talked. It apparently worked as no one made any comment about my voice or gender. The girls made me place the order, both of them just sitting there with a huge smiles plastered on their faces. I did relax after a while, when it was obvious that no one would recognize that I was a male underneath this dress. I didn’t quite know what to do with my legs, eventually crossing them at the knees like most females. Even that took a little while before it felt comfortable and natural.

We talked some among us, both of them suggesting a few things that I needed to experience in the upcoming weeks. Both of them wanted me to experience a date, not for sex, but to feel how it is to be treated as a female. Priscilla had a brother that would most likely love to go out with me. I didn’t say ‘no’, but did ask for a few days to figure things out some before I was subjected to that experience.

We spent about an hour nibbling and talking, I did enjoy the conversation with them, something that I had never experienced as a male. I had so called friends, but we never talked or socialized other than at a game or a bar. The bar talks were only about females in the bar, or about possible dates with one of them. Like most males, it was just talk, I doubt that any of us would be able to talk to any of the girls in the bar without getting tongue tied. The few times I actually muttered some words to a female, I was rejected quickly and permanently.

Of course, I had to pay the bill also, after Priscilla retrieved my wallet from her purse. I did survive, although to me it was like walking away from a firing squad. I looked to see if I had been shot, and then hoped that I hadn’t peed in my panties from the scare. I did make it back home, both of them making plans for tomorrow concerning me. I would not be allowed to hide for more than a few minutes, both of them settling on a schedule that would keep me out and about all day. Julie had given me a nightie for the evening, it was slipped over my bra and panties. Priscilla had suggested that wearing a bra for a few days would help the breasts until the new tissue stabilized.

After every one left I laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. My breasts sure changing things. They were indeed my breasts now, attached to me and part of my body. I did dream that night, a male taking me to dinner, and then dancing, followed up with a goodnight kiss on my porch. I sure hoped that was not a precursor to the actual thing happening.

True to their word by nine o’clock Julia was knocking on my door. I was slow in getting up although I had made it to the bathroom before I soiled another pair of panties. Julia came waltzing in, apparently using her key to let herself in. She took one look at me, then pounced on me. I was quickly unclothed, then shoved into another sweet smelling bath. Before the breasts I was a shower person, though I can’t deny the baths were nicer, and much more relaxing. I was allowed about twenty minutes, then she turned the cold shower on, me scurrying to get out of the spray and out of the tub. On the bed again was my outfit for the day, pants and a blouse over more of my now necessary female underwear.

Last night the two had decided on more salon time for me, a few more things needed to be accomplished to make sure my appearance as a female was authentic. At the salon my hair was washed and conditioned then set in curlers. Priscilla did cut it some, but only a few snips here and there. My eyebrows were thinned, at least that was what I was told. Since I had a hard time seeing where my eyebrows were now, I would say thin would be quite an understatement. While my hair was drying under a dryer the two of them shopped in the salon’s boutique next door for suitable clothing for me. When they re-appeared they had oodles of dresses for me, not a single pair of pants in their selections.

Priscilla finished my hair, the last of my male image disappearing as she fluffed up the curls and added hairspray to hold it in place. I was dressed in one of the frillier dresses, a tight fitting bodice and a large swirling skirt its main features. Of course, it was pink with lots of lace trim and a couple of appliques added to the front of the skirt. I felt I was semi-naked, a lot of my legs showing from under the dress since the hem was above my knees. The stockings helped yesterday, but today I was told they are not necessary, since my legs are so smooth and sexy.

As I was checked out at reception Priscilla joined me, Julia hugged me and headed back home. I looked questionably at her, she just smiled. “We are going shopping then something to eat before we head back to your home.” I hung my head a little, out and about seemed to be my fate now.

We hit a lot of clothes stores, I didn’t realize that there were that many in our town. I tried to get by with just looking, but that didn’t work very well. I ended up having to try things on, then decide what I liked the best. I tried to tell Priscilla that I had enough clothes already, but that statement was shot down quickly.

So we finally made it to a restaurant on the other side of town, went in and right to a table in the front of the restaurant. There sitting waiting for us was Francine. I felt embarrassed, all feminine and dressed as a girly girl after only one day of having new breasts. She didn’t say anything, but was obviously failing in holding back a smirk. A large giggly smirk. I was already red in the face, but sat down at the table trying to look anywhere but at her. She leaned over the table some and put a hand alongside of my face and made me look directly at her.

I was expecting giggles or a comment, but instead she told me I looked very nice, quite feminine and a lot more relaxed than in the past. Well that just got more blood headed up to my head, I am sure the red in my face was approaching a deep burgundy. She said no more, but was glancing at me all through the meal. When we finished, Julia showed up to take over duties as my chaperon. Francine gave me a huge hug, telling me that she expected me for dinner at her house at seven, an evening gown will be adequate for tonight. I went into panic mode, an evening gown to have dinner with her, my thoughts quickly imagined me in a strapless dress, my new breasts barely contained in the bodice of the dress. She smiled and walked away, my mouth wide open but no words escaping.

I was soon being led to Julia’s car, the bags from earlier today placed in her trunk. I tried to escape the afternoon session, but I was told flat out you are going to be out in this world, every daylight hour and some of the night, so get used to it and enjoy. We spent the afternoon looking for accessories to feminize my house, what was there now so boring and not befitting a fashionable female. Then after the tenth store we headed back to the salon’s boutique for an evening gown for tonight.

I found several I liked, but apparently tonight I would be wearing a strapless gown or else. I have to remember that Julia has more daring taste than Priscilla, soon I was in a teal number that seemed to be just barely hanging on to my breasts. I feared if I let out a breath that the top would fall, leaving me naked. The bodice on the dress was so thin, a bra could not be worn with it. Then to top it off since it was getting late, Julia would drop me off at Francine’s so I would not have to go back to the house. Of course my hair needed to be re-styled, the earlier style not appropriate for a dinner at Francine’s in an evening gown.

As I was getting changed I found out that a corset was to be worn underneath the gown, pushing my breasts up and out to even more outrageous dimensions. No cup in the corset for supporting the breasts, they would just lay in the cup that that the dress provided. Once in the corset and trying to get enough breath to sustain life, my breasts in the dress seemed overwhelming. They filled the space in the dress with ample amounts threatening to spill out of the strapless dress with every breath. The corset had garters so sheer stockings were slid up my legs and attached to the garters, the tightness and the pull of the stockings almost made me suffer another very unladylike reaction. It was extreme will power that eventually prevailed. I was given a pair of shoes with five inch heels, requiring some twenty minutes to learn how to walk again. Well I could walk in them, if you call stumbling along walking, but the more I pleaded for a lower heel the more stubborn they became. Finally I was ready, then taken to the salon for last minute makeup repairs and an up do appropriate for tonight.

Out to Julia’s car, then a comedy of errors for ten minutes as I finally managed to get my butt on the front seat. The ride to Francine’s house was in silence, frankly I couldn’t get enough breath to carry on a conversation for very long. The circle driveway left me right at her front door, at least I figured I could make that short distance in the heels. I was met at the front door and hugged. Francine dragged me in, then a tender hug was delivered. As our breasts squashed together, I suffered such a flood of feelings. Not lust, but a deep sense of connection between us. Two females just sharing their lives for an evening. She led me to her living room, a beautiful room with a fireplace filling the entire wall at the far end. It was done in flagstone, a few pieces on the wall jutting out into the room, with some Native American memorabilia placed on them. It took me a few minutes to maneuver myself so that I could sit on the sofa. Large breasts and a tight skirt making life difficult at the moment. I was still worried that my mammaries would pop out of the dress at any minute. I did finally manage, then watched as Francine gracefully did it, making me look like a construction worker plopping myself down.

Francine told me it gets better with practice, just imagine how you will be able to handle things after a year. I raised my eyebrows, but remained quiet. She wanted my experiences up to now, especially the details. I recounted everything as she had requested, noticing that my thoughts had changed some since the actual occurrence. The scenes lost a lot of their dreadfulness, now the things that had transpired just seemed like a part of daily life, the daily life of an attractive female.

We had a delightful dinner, served in her dining room, her best china and silverware used, going perfectly with our evening gowns. I was expecting some other attendees tonight, but luck prevailed and it was just the two of us for dinner. After dinner back to the living room, a fire now in the fireplace making the room feel comfortable and homier.

After some more chit chat she handed me a list of females that would consider investing with me. She had talked to all of them explaining what I did and my degree of success at it. She told them all that I would love to get their business, but insisted in meeting them socially first before I took them on as customers. So a luncheon, or dinner, or a club meeting will do the job, since I just love to get out and about. I let out a low groan, more business, which I was happy about, just not with what Francine had attached to go along with it. I would be out and about, making contacts and meeting people just like what Francine had in mind. All of that interaction as a female, a well-endowed female.

Since it was late I ended up in her guest bedroom for the night, a very comfortable bed and a huge frilly nightgown that totally enveloped me in satin and lace. I finally came to terms with the nightgown, and was able to slip into dreamland. Luckily for me I had no recollection of my dreams the next morning.

Breakfast was some fresh fruit and orange juice, it really didn’t fill me up, but everyone had told me that watching my figure was a top priority now, otherwise I would soon outgrow my clothes. A different dress for today, Julia was my chaperon this morning, picking me up at Francine’s home. My first social gathering later with one of the prospective customers from the list that Francine had given me. I wonder who had made the call to set this up, a few questions of Francine proved to be a waste of time. There was a smile there the whole time, but no information no matter how I phrased the question. today, then she asked me about my career. Francine had highly recommended me, telling her a little about her investments and how she had profited from my advice. I explained what I offered my customers, then let them decide how much they wanted to participate. Our waitress showed up, and we stopped talking business until we had finished lunch. We each ordered an exotic tea to sip as we conversed, spending at least an hour talking about investments and different financial advice.

I needed to use the restroom, so excused myself, Heather agreeing it was a good idea and joined me. The two of us went to the ladies restroom, did our business then repaired our makeup. It was as I was staring at my image in the mirror that I realized how I had blended into this female world so easily and completely. Here I am talking business with another female, repairing my makeup just as countless others do and using the restroom like a female. No big effort on my part, just acting like the female that I look like. I straightened my clothes and we returned to our table.

The discussion lasted at least another hour, however neither of us was watching a clock. She did agree to become a customer, wanting to have lunch, at least, once a month to talk over any ideas I might have and her concerns if any. When I got back to the house, Julia was waiting for me. Just as soon as I pulled in she came out of her house wanting to know how things went. I filled her in, as we were sipping some diet drinks in my kitchen. Before she left she told me one of the ladies off my list had called, wanting to know if I could have dinner with her tomorrow night. I raised my eyebrow, thinking that Julia had prompted her. It turns out that Francine had talked to her, suggesting that she call me before I became too busy to work her into my schedule. So another dress and another meeting, out and about just liked Francine desired.

It did take me several meetings before I relaxed some, now enjoying the new acquaintances and possible customers. I also added to my wardrobe extensively. I did not convince every prospective customer to join on, a few were too insecure to start in the financial world, a couple I turned down, their ideas of what to do and how to do it were just asking for trouble. Once the list had been gone through I had fifteen new customers, most very pleased to have met me and had the chance to invest with me.

Francine stayed unavailable as I worked through the list, we talked on the phone a time or two, but no lunches or dinners. I was so busy I really hadn’t noticed the lack of contact between us. After that first night when the deal was discussed I did not think about it anymore. I had things to do, prospective customers to meet and shopping for clothes so I always looked my best.

It was a few weeks later when I finally got used to the breasts and female clothes. I had just returned from a luncheon meeting, re-entered my house and shed my dress. As I was looking through my closet for something to wear, I pulled out a pair of pants, one of only two pairs that I had bought. I held them up to me, walked over to look in the mirror, and then laid them on my bed. They just didn’t look right on me. Back to the closet, several more items pulled out then I found what would be prefect for an afternoon at home doing a little work. It was a sundress, two narrow straps over the shoulders, a fitted bodice and then flaring out to this huge ruffled skirt. It had a print design on a pink background, one look in the mirror and I knew I had been converted, I twisted back and forth looking at my image a huge smile painted on my face.

Shortly after I had got started on some of my work the doorbell rang. I answered it and lo and behold it is a certain someone that started me down this path. Francine’s megawatt smile lighted up the afternoon sky as she took in my appearance. The lightly overcast sky could not continue, the clouds parted and the sun was now shining, all because a certain someone was extremely happy at my appearance, and my obvious conversion to the female lifestyle. I got hugged hard our breasts squished together between our bodies. I was turning red, my nipples were very pleased to see her, now pointy and very hard. She waltzed past me asking if I was going to invite her in. Again a smirk.

She complimented me on the dress, as she reached over and straightened a strap that had slipped off my shoulder. I got us some drinks, as we got comfortable on the living room sofa. She wanted the tell all version of my last few weeks, every detail and nuance. I went through everything that had happened, the new customers I had obtained and the many dresses I had bought. I mentioned that it would take all of my new customers to offset the additional money I am now spending on clothes. Before she could say anything I told her a lot of my clothes came from her boutique, the discount she is giving me very much appreciated.

She reached into her purse, pulling out a check made out to me. “This is the balance of the quarter million even thought the year is not over with, plus payments for all of the extras you have succumbed to. There is a catch though, you have to find someone like you who was denying their female inner self and get them headed in the right direction to a female persona. The satisfaction that you have helped someone to become who they should have been is heartwarming, plus my salons need the business. Can you believe that sales have only increased by five percent? That is appalling, the lowest increase in quarterly sales since I started the salons. Now how about you put on something a little nicer and we go to dinner, there is still a lot we need to catch up on.”

I giggled but did as she said, then when I reappeared she frowned. Shit now we have to go by the salon to find me something equally as nice. A former male showing me up on a dinner date, never. I will call ahead and have Priscilla to give us both a touch up, no telling who we might meet tonight. There is always dancing after dinner too.

We did have a wonderful time, no dates or someone we found, just a nice evening in each other’s company. It was four AM when I got back home, surprisingly not tired but wide awake and energetic. I got comfortable in my negligee, a very lacy one I had got on sale a few weeks ago. I made myself some iced tea and retreated to my den to get a little work done. The same work I was planning to do when she showed up.

I tried to get started but my mind was going over all the wonderful things that have happened to me recently. I brought my hands up to my breasts, cupping each breast and sighed. Such a wonderful feeling, so soft, and so responsive to my touches, my nipples already starting to swell at the touch of my hands. They are mine, something to treasure and keep for all eternity. Breasts Of My Own.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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