Marcia; Just Hanging Around

It was approaching that time of the year again, the time I needed to make myself scarce for the four weeks of the bridal faire. Mom and Sis started a wedding dress business ten years ago, it struggled for three years then the word of mouth kicked in and they have been doing fantastic ever since. Every year they concentrated their efforts on this regional bridal faire, if the past is any indication they will sell every dress they can make in the next year at this one event.

The dresses they offer are not cheap, most selling for around ten thousand dollars apiece. They do make cheaper dresses, but most of the demand is for the more elegant dresses, the ones loaded with lace and bead work. Of course, they are custom made for each customer, even the fabric offered is custom made and unique. All of the bead work is done by hand, a most time consuming task.

The tension during these shows is usually off the chart, both Mom and Sis running around trying to make sure everything comes together in time for the show. Then there is the show itself, they change their display dresses two or three times a day. Waiting on the customers and taking the orders fills the rest of the day. Since there name is now well known the prospective brides realize that they have to order the dress at the wedding faire or take a chance on missing out entirely on purchasing one.

I witnessed this frustration on both the brides and my relatives the first year when I made a mistake and went to the first day of the show. At one point there was quite a line of future brides all waiting to make their selections and pay for the dress of their choice. Of course, to a future bride her dream dress is a big deal, to be denied for some reason heart breaking. It was so intense, I think a wrong choice of words would lead to the whole place blowing up in frustration. Believe me that was the last time I attended the show.

I managed to graduate from college, barely making the required grades to receive my diploma. The only job I could secure was in fast food, although over a six month period I did manage to achieve an assistant manager’s position at my place of employment. I had resigned myself to this job or something similar in my life, probably the best I could achieve. Although I had a diploma, I doubted I could fill a single page with what I learned from college. My lack of retaining any of what I was taught plus my laziness assuring me of nothing more in this lifetime.

Mom was getting up in years and was leaving more of the decisions up to Sis regarding the business. They had hired three more seamstresses to do the actual sewing, so running the business and coming up with new dress designs was what Sis was left to do. Sis did handle the taking of the orders, a most important part of the process. Mom concentrated on new dress designs solely, more than content to leave most of the business decisions to Sis.

It was about seven weeks out from the big show when Sis approached me. For Julie even to talk to me meant things would be serious. I was set down in our study, a quiet place where we would not be disturbed. In a few words she wanted me to join her in the business. She needed the help desperately and since I had really nothing substantial going on in life she thought it would serve both of our purposes. I proceeded to get up right away, how she could even think I could help her was beyond my ability to figure out. I was persuaded to sit back down and we talked about what possible way I could contribute to the business. Believe me there was not much mentioned that I might be able to do to assist her in the business.

After an hour, I gave up and told her if she could figure out a way that I could help her, without me being in the middle of everything going on, I would help her. Definitely no high stress moments, or me entering into the actual taking of orders. I would help her setup the booths, and tote the dresses to the venue, but that would be it. That in my opinion was the limit of my ability to help her. She was deep in thought for a few moments, then a smile came over her face.

The next statement surprised me more than just a little. “If I had a job for you that you could just stand there, not able to say a word and help me would you do it for me?” I quickly nodded my head, if I could get by with that little interaction I would be counting my blessings. In the meantime, she wanted me to wear the display dresses as she made the final adjustments to them, since I was very petite and slim. After I had her promise that it would be done in a private room, away from others I finally consented. If it got out that I was modeling the dresses, my reputation, pathetic as it is, would be done for. She agreed to pay me what I was making at the fast food joint, and I only had to work four to six hours a day up to the bridal faire.

My job in fast food was alright, but it is the same thing every day, nothing ever changing from day to day. To make the same amount of money working for Sis and less hours seemed to be a dream come true. I turned in my two weeks’ notice, the owner of the franchise, promoted someone else to my position and three days later I was given my final paycheck. Julie was ecstatic, putting me to work the next day. Where she ended up doing her work was indeed private, a large office with a workshop attached. I was a little apprehensive when I first entered, but she soon had me naked and dressed in a corset and panties. The corset she told me was to give me the female figure essential for modeling the wedding dresses. I had other thoughts as she tightened the corset to an almost intolerable level. I won’t even mention the panties, I am sure she could have found a pair that was less feminine than the ones she handed me. The corset and panties were in an ivory color and absolutely dripping in lace. The panties did effect me as Sis helped me get them up my legs. Encased in the corset kept me from bending over to pull them up myself. The delicious feeling as they were pulled up my leg causing all kinds of distress from certain parts of my body.

Before I could protest much I was encased in the first dress, the feeling of all those fabrics and slips totally engulfing me tended to make me docile and overwhelmed. I was helped up on a dais after she slipped a pair of heels on my feet, and stood there as she made the final adjustments to the first dress. These are the display dresses for the faire, new designs and older designs that were popular with maybe some enhancement to make them look different. I should have put two and two together knowing that since all the dresses were fitted to my figure there might be more involved to this than what I thought. It was beyond my ability to comprehend what might be in store for me, so I continued in my ignorant bliss right up to the setup time for the faire.

It seemed I modeled thousands of dresses in the weeks leading up to the faire, each one unique in its own way. Some of the skirts were huge, requiring fifteen or more slips to hold them out as intended. The bodices of the dresses all fit tight to my body, with many of the dresses having plunging necklines. In my ignorant bliss, I never thought of the breasts one would have to have to fill the dress out appropriately. Most days I had a breast form stuck in the cups of the corset to fill out the dress properly.

At the beginning of the faire I did help setup the booths, the business had progressed to the point that it now occupied fifteen booths, one for the current dress on display, and one for taking orders, The others all had racks of dresses on them, the various new creations made for this wedding faire. In all over a hundred dresses, ranging from the basic to the totally over the top styles they were famous for. Once I had everything in the booth, Julie grabbed my hand and led me out of the venue. A short drive to a salon a few miles away and I was led inside. We were taken to a booth in the back of the salon, and the door closed behind us. From the time we entered the salon I had my mouth open in awe, what I was seeing and what I was here for consuming all of my meager brain functions. Julie grabbed my hands, looked me directly in the eyes and told me I needed to be made pretty, so that I could model the dresses for the faire. I was re-assured that I would not be able to speak, only wearing the dress and standing still as the prospective customers viewed the dress. I started to protest, this was way more than I planned on, being seen in all of her lovely creations was just too much.

Julie insisted that I give it a try, the salon procedures would assure that no one would recognize me, without the ability to talk, I was assured of a perfect disguise, not anyone knowing I was truly a male modeling her wedding dresses. I had bad feelings about all of this, her request way more than I felt confident I could handle. If the truth was to be known I guess I had fallen in love with the feelings when wearing one of the dresses and now was very reluctant to just throw all of that away. To be captured in one of her dresses, made to endure it for hours, seemed to be a dream come true for me.

In a weak moment I agreed to the changes, not realizing how intrusive they would be. Julie left me there by myself, I was never secure enough in myself to confront anyone on anything, so I meekly sat there as they transformed my male body into something more appropriate for modeling the wedding dresses.

I lost all my body hair, a cream left on for thirty minutes handled my hairiness quite easily. Then my eyebrows were also dealt with, this time tweezers were used to eliminate the bushy areas above my eyes. It made quite a difference, Mark, my male persona, already fading away. My hair was shampooed and conditioned, cut into a feminine style and placed in curlers. My hands were worked on next, long elegant nails were glued on to my fingernails and then polished to radiant ridiculousness. I was scared to death as all of these things were performed on me. I knew I should have stopped things early on, but I couldn’t find the words to make it happen. Next some breast forms were glued to my chest, and then a thick garment was glued to my hips providing some padding and a female slit that made the transformation now complete, both additions perfectly matched to my skin color. I now looked exactly like a female, the few glances that I caught of myself when we were walking by a mirror confirmed my observations.

Makeup came next, then my hairstyle was brushed out, the resulting change in my appearance made the image strictly female in looks. Julie came back to pick me up, to take me home. I hadn’t said a word to anyone, too embarrassed to look this way and greatly disappointed in myself for not stopping it before it got to this point. I was given panties and a dress to wear home, my extensive wardrobe awaiting me at the faire tomorrow.

Once we arrived home I quickly went to my room, stood in front of the mirror and took in all the changes. There was no Mark left, not one thing pointing to any underlying masculine individual that might be hiding under this exterior. It was like he had been obliterated completely, by some force much more skilled in their actions. I didn’t dare take off my dress, I am sure what was underneath would only make my concerns and fears worst.

Mom came to look at my new self, smiled and hugged me for quite a while. I fell into the hug, so comforting and reassuring. It was late so Julie came to help me undress, slipping a nightie over my shoulders and helping me into bed. I got a kiss on the forehead, her thanking me in advance for helping her. It was later as I stared at the ceiling that I had remembered missing dinner, my stomach still a little volatile, maybe a good thing for tonight. I was asleep soon thereafter, my new chest protrusions making finding a comfortable way to lay quite difficult. Julie had helped me remove my lipstick, all the rest of the makeup was semi-permanent lasting for quite a while. I didn’t bother to consider what that might mean to me in the future, the damn breasts keeping my overworked mind more than sufficiently occupied. The padding that they had glued to my lower body stayed on, I was able to use the bathroom but as a female having to sit down to pee. I felt different, nothing between my legs anymore to get in the way, just smooth and sleek.

The next morning I was dressed in a robe and led from the house. No food again, maybe I will waste away and get out of doing this for the next four weeks. I stayed silent as she drove me to the venue. She had an extra bag along with her purse, I had only the robe to deal with. When we arrived she went right to work setting up a lightweight frame where I would be standing wearing the featured dress for the day. I watched not figuring out what it implied for me. Finally she seemed finished and grabbed my hand and placed me with my back to the frame. The frame was mounted to a plate on the floor, one main upright rod with a second rod behind it that had many arms attached at different heights. She opened up my robe and slipped the corset around my body. This corset seemed stiffer somehow, I know as she started tightening the laces it would be much more restrictive.

Of course the corset was attached to the frame, leaving me secured to the pole unable to get away. I did try to get my hands behind me to loosen the laces and escape, but the long nails assured that I was stuck there. Heels were strapped to my feet after stockings were put on me attached to the garters from my corset. The pole was adjusted up so that my toes were barely touching the floor. Two arms were slid under the dress and attached to my ankles preventing any movement there, as if I was going anywhere anyway. Then she slid the first dress over my head, I almost swooned as it slid down into place. She zipped up the back, now the pole disappearing as it was covered by the dress. Since my weight was fully on the plate of the pole I was not able to remove myself from it.

One of the gals from the salon appeared and my hair was fluffed back into the cut style and fresh lipstick was added to my lips. I actually ran my tongue over the fresh lipstick, it felt so natural somehow.

Then each of my arms was attached to one of the arms on the second pole, actually each finger was attached to a clear plastic shaped hand disabling any finger movement whatsoever. The final arm was raised behind my head and positioned behind me, two smaller extensions attached to each of my earrings. The slightest movement of my head tugged on my earrings sending sharp pains through my ears.

Gawd, Julia was taking this a little far, I was indeed unable to move, just my voice is the only thing I had left that could function. That apparently was her next project. She had me open my mouth and placed something in it that kept it open. Than another object was slid in, this one very large and squishy. She used a tool to twist something on the large squishy object and it expanded and wedged behind my teeth. The first device was removed and I could close my mouth but no sounds were possible. Julia informed me that my water and nutrients were inside the gag, slowly leaking out through the day, so I could stay modeling for her all day. My other needs were to be handled by a pad sewn into the bottom of the corset keeping any pee absorbed till the end of the day.

I now saw one of the reasons for no dinner last night and nothing this morning, other than peeing I would be set for the day. I tried to be upset with Sis for doing this to me, but the feelings of all this silky material caressing my body was too much to ignore. I was in heaven, as every part of the dress seemed to be sending its own messages to my overworked mind. I felt so secure, embraced by the corset, its unrelenting grasp of me soothing. I closed my eyes often, just taking in all of the sensations and enjoying the feelings they were causing.

Soon the venue was crowded, lots of future brides wanting to see the new designs and pick out their dress for the big day. I found myself along with the dress I was modeling being touched often, not an unpleasant feeling. I tried to stay motionless, not wanting to call any more attention to myself than necessary. Actually staying motionless was not difficult since there was nothing I could move. Several females did realize that I was indeed live, a small smile or smirk delivered while facing me. One even whispered in my ear how lucky I was to be able to wear such a gorgeous dress all day.

For most of the females I was just a mannequin, wearing one of this year’s designs so that they could pick and choose their favorite. Then shortly after lunch, Mom came in with one of her friends and my dress was removed and replaced with another of their designs. My hands were released to be able to get the dress on me, but everything else stayed as before. Of course, my hands were secured again, to make sure I was safe and less vulnerable. I did wonder about the less vulnerable, but the current dress I was wearing was doing its job on me, the low cut of the bodice seeming to leave my boobs ready to jump out at a moment’s notice. This particular design had even more petticoats, the skirt forming a circle of almost five feet wide. I did get a smile from Mom as she took her time arranging each petticoat before adding another. Five more dress changes that day, each dress seemingly more luxurious than the previous.

I closed my eyes several times during the day, not really sleeping but actively daydreaming about the dresses and me being a real bride in a wedding. I did get a nice meal when the faire closed for the day, later to find out it would be my only meal each day for the length of the faire. I am sure I would loose more than several pounds during my stint as a wedding dress model.

Once home each evening, the day’s activities quickly caught up with me, not physically tired but mentally drained. Sleep came easily, with Sis dragging me out of bed the next morning for another day in dresses. Another salon visit at the end of each week, to keep my appearance feminine and fresh. I no longer saw myself as a male, each image in a mirror showing no resemblance to anything masculine.

The wedding faire finally wound down, an unqualified success, with every dress they could make in the coming year now sold. I was allowed a few days off, spending the entire time conked out on my bed. Then on a Friday Sis dragged me from my comfortable bed, slipped a robe on me and drove me to work. Once in her office, I was attached to my frame, given a tender hug and a couple of kisses on the cheek and dressed in a gorgeous silk wedding dress. I opened my mouth to protest, the wedding faire is over till next year, the only time I agreed to help her out. She told me to keep quiet or she will resort to the gag again. I sighed, I guess I volunteered again to help her out, no longer having a job and obviously available.

As the silky fabric of the dress rubbed against my skin, I closed my eyes, maybe hanging around here with Sis will not be that bad, plus I am making a little money. You can never tell, one day I might get to wear one of these dresses in my own wedding. Stranger things than that have happened, in the mean time if I have to hang around, all the better decked out in a gorgeous wedding dress.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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