Teresa; Female With Some Help

I have been a member of the community theater for six months now. This last year, it has grown considerably, starting off with no place to perform besides the local high school gym, now to the newly renovated movie theater with seating for seven hundred people. Most of this is due to our leader in this pursuit of building a place where all can contribute to something worthwhile and entertaining.

The simple truth is that most people in community theater want acknowledgment for their time and effort. If you have ever done anything on a stage, you know the feeling that you get when an audience claps their approval for your effort, a most rewarding feeling.

Janice Carmichael founded the theater group three years ago, scraping some business support together to allow their first production. It was a start, not widely received bit still it was there, it got a little press coverage, and they went from there. The few shows they managed were good, but obviously not very professional. Janice persevered doing the best she could with what talent she had to work with. The second year was a little better, but they managed only three shows. Not enough people or help to do much more.

This year she advertised for volunteers to make the theater group more complete, trying to get some more experience in some of the positions. She had put together a little more funding, several businesses wanting to help since the theater was now talked about among the community. She had a group of amateur actors to draw from; they seemed to volunteer first, it is the backstage people that seldom raised their hand.

My name is Terry Sutherland, recently divorced and feeling very isolated and depressed. My profession is engineering, but about as far from what most people think an engineer does as possible. Now consider the clothing industry and try to put the two fields together. I am an engineer that learned the clothing industry from my mother when just a young child. I take the basic design, make patterns and then adapt that to the manufacturing process.

Most of my fellow engineers would laugh at me referring to myself as an engineer. But in a sense, I do engineer the garment. We use ladies to do the sewing for us, their skill at using the industrial machines truly remarkable. The proper utilization of their skills is where the engineer in me comes to the fore.

Who sewed what piece and in what order is it put together to minimize any expense in the production of the garment. Now add in my love of computers and what they can do for us, and you get a glimpse of what I do. Most of my work I have adapted to a computer so that the guess work and problems of manufacturing ladies clothes are minimal. To keep cost on these garments reasonable, the cutting of the pattern from the fabric and minimizing any waste is quite essential to stay competitive. My computer and programming do this with very little wasted material.

I had seen the ad and showed up at the auditions, needing something to help keep my mind off my recent divorce. I am twenty-eight years old, a father of two little girls, and head engineer in the local manufacturing facility. I should point out that the head engineer is also the only engineer since the company is small. The plant has been here for years manufacturing ladies garments for several national chains. The competition in China had almost put us out of business, but we had managed to fine tune our clothing choices to items that were more difficult to make, giving us a slight edge.

In the process, we had to cut our margin of profit quite a bit to be able to compete, but in the end, we managed to keep most of our customers. We heavily relied on the advantage we had in not having to pay shipping from China to get our product to our customers. Incidentally, the mastermind of our business plan is the same Janice Carmichael that is the head of the theater group. Janice is the CEO of Silks, Satins, N Lace, a middle-sized manufacturer of a wide array of women’s underwear and dresses. The company specialized in the unusual, a full line of retro lingerie and custom made corsets just part of the line we produced.

With this product line, the volume of our orders was down, but we shipped a wider variety of items than before the streamlining. It was a struggle for a while with most of the company employees not knowing whether we would have jobs next week or not. That is when my wife decided that the grass was greener elsewhere and decided to leave me. She found a used car salesman that made three times what I made and went with him. She ended up with the custody of the girls, since my job situation was unstable, although I am sure she wished she hadn’t.

Anyway, I showed up for the auditions, wanting to do some kind of support work for the theater. The ones auditioning as actors were handled first, and several were selected. Then Janice worked through the off stage volunteers. She winked at me twice as she doled out the jobs of set designers, lighting, and sound people. I just sat there watching the goings on, getting a smile every so often at what people said and did to get their feet in the door.

She finally got done to wardrobe and costume design. There were three of us left that had not had anything assigned to do, so she asked us to take the responsibility on. One of the gals was an employee at the plant, an experienced seamstress for many years. The other female was an older woman also having some experience in sewing clothes but not as a job. She was a little headstrong thinking she should be the boss of the group. Bev was the employee at the plant and knew what my skills were and told the lady that I should be put in charge. Well, that didn’t set well with the lady, the remark that what did a male know about sewing anything.

Janice had been listening to all of this and told the lady that I was indeed the best qualified to supervise the department. Well, the lady went ballistic, screaming at the top of her lungs. “How can any male do what a female is born to do, especially him.” Well, that got my ire up, and I asked her if she would like to demonstrate her skill to us. Of course, her next remark was why should I have to prove my skills, you are the one that obviously needs to show us what you can do.

There was a sewing machine over in the corner with some material nearby so I asked what she would like me to do for her. She looked at the material and tried to come up with something to embarrass me. Her simple reply was to finish the garment. The material was apparently for a skirt; the zipper was not put in yet, and the hem was pinned but not sewn. I sat down at the machine and started sewing. The zipper took about three minutes to put in, and then I moved to the hem using a blind hem stitch to sew it. The lady quickly became quiet, evened backed up a few steps from the group. I finished the stitching then handed the garment to her. She looked it over closely but was quiet as a mouse.

I walked over to her, introduced myself to her, I am Julian La Cross, I am the engineer in charge of production at the plant, supervising three hundred seamstresses and do all the take offs from the garment designs. I pointed to the sewing machine and asked her if she would like to show us her skills. She turned red in the face but declined. I got a little closer to her and whispered in her ear that I would like her help if she could stand to work for a member of the opposite sex. Nobody else could hear what I had said to her, so there would be no further embarrassment for her. She accepted, apologizing to me for her outburst and hoped that I could forgive her for her attitude.

I accepted, telling her that I am not like most males, my mother teaching me how to sew and design clothes while I was in high school. Yes, those lessons caused me a bunch of troubles and provided hours of humiliation as I was teased relentlessly during my high school education. I was even nominated for Prom Queen by the members of the football team. Their slogan for me was he can sew his own formal. Luckily a couple of the teachers stepped in, and I was spared the humiliation of being elected Prom Queen. Later I was told that I had gotten the votes to win, but the teachers picked the second best vote getter for the honor.

Since everybody now had a job in the theater group, they decided on a couple of plays to start the season and then broke up the meeting. Janice asked me to stay for a minute, wanting to talk about the costumes for the first play. It was a takeoff about the life of Marilyn Monroe; it involved some of her romances, also some of the behind the scenes of her movie career. Janice wanted the costumes to be special since the play is weak; the scenes are not that memorable, and the only redeeming quality is the fact that it was about Marilyn. The play was picked because everybody knows the character and remembers fondly some of the scenes in her movies. Janice suggested that maybe a lot of our underwear could be incorporated into some of the scenes adding a little sexiness to the play.

I agreed and started working on some of the designs for the dresses the next week. I usually just stayed at work after closing, using my office to do the designing in. In the production of several of our garments, we acquired a lot of scraps of material in fabrics that would be perfect for the dresses. I tried to figure out how to piece these together into a garment without it looking like it was put together from scrap. I found that if I pieced the pattern so that it fit the model precisely, the scraps of material looked like they were meant to be that way.

It would require extra sewing time but with volunteers to do the sewing that wouldn’t be a concern. I used a dress dummy and set up the measurements accordingly. I used my measurements, figuring on a corset and padded breasts. Most of the young ladies that had volunteered to be actresses’ were less than endowed. It took me quite a bit of time to carefully cut out the pattern, then use the pattern to cut the material needed for the dress. A dress like this would normally require four to five pattern pieces, but there were thirty-five in mine.

I sewed them up, making a couple of changes as I went along. The material that I was able to use for the dress was normally thirty dollars a yard and up, so the theater group saved quite a bit, and we utilized something we would have eventually thrown away. It turned out better than I thought it would, so I checked to see if Janice was still in her office. Like me she often worked late, the peace and quiet allowed us to get a lot of things done that would not normally be accomplished during normal working hours.

I walked into her office and laid the dress on her desk. She finished the sentence she was working on, then picked up the dress. She obviously liked it, taking her time to look over every detail. She asked how long it took to sew; I told her a little over an hour from start to finish. She asked if the material was our scrap, I nodded yes, then she surprised me by asking when I could get the dress into production. I quickly set down in the chair in front of her desk.

Then I told her this is for the play; she nodded that was what she figured, but this is so cute, it would make a great addition to our line. I told her it would not work; the measurements have to be precise to make it fit perfectly. Otherwise, we could not take advantage of the scrap pieces, so we could only do it for a custom order. She smiled, okay you have convinced me for custom orders only. What would we sell it for? I did a little figuring in my head and told her the cost would be about forty-two dollars each. That was discounting the fabric some from its thirty dollar regular price, it was scrap so not worth as much.

The only problem I saw with it would be a female’s fluctuating waistline. Through the month, a female’s waist goes through a cycle usually two to three inches variation depending on her period, her level of exercise, and what she eats. This dress is very unforgiving; it fits perfectly to a quarter of an inch. Janice smiled that is perfect; we just sell them a corset with every dress.

She walked back with me to my office, and I slipped the dress on the mannequin. I had put a zipper in the back, but after what I saw a row of fancy buttons would be more appropriate and help make the dress look fancier. She asked if I could have the computer cut the pattern pieces if a set of precise measurements were furnished. I told her it would be no problem. She snapped a couple of pictures of the dress to send to a customer or two. Then asked me to switch the zipper to the buttons tomorrow.

She asked me to use Bev for most of the work for the theater group, she will make allowances in my budget for her time. I asked her about Doris, our other volunteer, Janice giggled then said that decision is strictly up to you. If you can find something for her to help with, fine, if not use her for care and maintenance of the costumes.

The next morning I had Bev replace the zipper with a string of buttons when she returned the dress I asked her how she liked it. She loved it but wondered why we were working on something so labor intensive. I told her it was originally for the theater group, but Janice wanted it for production, custom orders only. I informed her that I would have her doing most of the sewing for the theater group, some of it here at work, and she was being taken off my budget so that the company would be picking up the expense. She was thrilled but told me not to worry she would still be available off the clock for any work I might want to be done.

I thanked her for the offer, then asked her what she thought of Doris. It turns out that she had talked to her quite a bit after the meeting, finding out that she loves to embroidery. That solved my problem for what to do with her. A custom embroidery on any costume will make it look fancy, another idea to make Janice happy with the costumes. I still had quite a bit of work to do for the first production. I figured about ten different dresses for the first production for Marilyn, and then several others for other cast members. Then there was the underwear for several of the scenes. I decided to use some scrap again, making the underwear fit perfectly. In the case of a corset, it would fit very tightly, then when the laces are cinched up the figure would be almost perfect.

During this time women mainly wore dresses, pants had not made their intrusion into a female’s wardrobe yet. The dresses ran the gamut from plain shirtwaist to skin tight with pencil skirts. I thought the best way to keep the audience involved would be to vary the styles, that way any female theatergoer might recognize what she wore during that time from the many different styles we were using.

It took me a week to make the custom patterns for the ten different styles of dresses I chose to use. One problem would be that there would be no way to change an actress once we measured her and made the dress fit her and her alone. Later in the week I got with Janice to talk about that problem, she told me that from what she saw the cast was set, and there should be no changes in the females playing the different roles. She did, however, suggest that one extra outfit is made in each costume for a fill in replacement if necessary. I asked her who that female would be; she responded that she didn’t have any idea now, but she would figure it out and give the measurements to Bev.

For the men’s costumes, we decided to use the thrift stores, where we could get a retro-looking suit for a minimal amount of money. Bev took that task on one weekend and found what we needed for less than a hundred dollars. After all the initial hard work, our part was pretty much done, so I attended the rehearsals, watched as the actresses learned their lines and marveled at Janice’s stage direction. Although there were fifteen different people involved on the stage, she easily handled the direction of getting them in the right spots and speaking their lines like they had been that character for their entire life.

I ended up helping the actors with their lines; I easily had memorized the script, and as I followed along, I was able to cue them when a temporary absence of memory struck. We were only a few days from the first production, the show opened on Friday night, then two shows on Saturday and one matinee on Sunday. Then the next weekend a repeat if sales of tickets warranted it.

The dress that Janice wanted for special orders was doing well, we had special orders of two to three per day, but those orders were only from four retailers that she had allowed to see the dress. Although the dress took much more time to produce, the price tag that Janice had assigned the dress is making us two hundred dollars profit per item. I had assigned two seamstresses to do only the custom orders, their proficiency improving each day, our profit also increasing with their skill. Janice also was able to sell a corset with each dress ordered, making it even more lucrative.

On Wednesday, before the show is to open, I got called into Janice’s office. She had a worried look on her face, and I had a feeling that one of the actresses was not going to be able to make the show. Janice confirmed that fact as I sat down in one of her chairs. I asked her who the stand-in was so that I could make sure the dress would fit them correctly. She told me to let Bev handle that, for the problem is twofold. Our lead female and another supporting female were involved in a car accident, both are in the hospital, both are going to be okay after at least two weeks in said establishment. I asked if she was going to cancel the show or move it forward a couple of weeks.

Since the local paper has run several articles about the show, ticket sales have been brisk, they are now selling tickets for the third weekend. I have a stand-in for the minor part, she is not that skilled but should be able to handle the smaller part. The problem is the part of Marilyn.

She looked me straight in the eye and told me she needs me to step into the lead female role for the play. I was quiet for a minute; she has got to be kidding about this. I can’t fill in for a female even if I know the lines. For one thing, my body shape is all wrong. The dresses are designed for another figure, can’t be worn by just anybody, besides the fact that I am not an actor, never claimed to be and have never even attempted to be one.

She managed to get me down on her couch, and then set next to me. The dresses will fit you; I had Bev make another set of costumes up that fit only you. Of all the actors you are the only one that knows all the lines, even if we found someone else to dress in the costumes there is no way that they could learn all the lines in two days. I have watched you for quite some time, your ability to handle stress, difficult situations, and excel in your accomplishment of those tasks is your best and strongest trait.

She told me to say Marilyn’s opening lines in the play, right now. I swallowed but repeated the lines perfectly, although my voice was deeper than a normal female. She asked me to get up and set in the chair behind the desk as if I was playing the character, Marilyn. I got up, straightened my clothes, then sashayed around the desk, backing up to the chair I smoothed my skirt and set down on the front part of the chair, keeping my knees together. Janice smiled saying that she rested her case. I put my head in my hands and shed a tear or two.

I pick up people mannerisms so easy, in fact, my favorite past time is just to watch people. How they move, their hand movements, their facial expressions, what they say to their friends. It is fun, giving me a glimpse into their lives and their personalities. Now that is be using against me to get me to do the play. Of all the favors to ask, to portray a female, an obviously sexy and attractive woman, me a male to take on the character of Marilyn Monroe.

I tried to convince her that it wouldn’t work; I have no years of experience as a female to fall back on in my portrayal. Janice’s solution was, then I will have to show you what femininity is all about. We have over fifty hours before the curtain goes up on Friday night, plenty of time to give you a crash course in femininity. Besides with the proper female appliances attached to your body, half of the battle is won before we even get started. She picked up her phone dialing her secretary, when she answered she told her to make an appointment for the works for Terry at the salon first thing tomorrow morning, The earlier, the better, then get Bev up here with the costumes for Teresa and the lingerie I had set aside in the warehouse. I sighed when I heard Teresa, a female name already assigned to me, I have a feeling this has been planned for quite some time.

I guess the planetary alignment for me that day was lousy, no make that horrible. Bev came walking into the office five minutes later, pulling a clothes rack behind her. On the top shelf of the rack was several boxes with the underwear we manufacture in them. I should, at least, give credit to Janice for having a backup plan in place, but why me. I was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, and going to suffer the worst long drawn out punishment ever devised by mankind. I was going to impersonate a female, not just any female, but a sex bombshell for the next few weeks, me a male who has never done anything bad to anybody.

Bev helped me get undressed, giggling her heart out. Her boss is going to be a female in a lot of ways very shortly; things couldn’t get much better than this. I gave her a stern look, but she just giggled that much more. The underwear was handed to me, and then they both asked if I needed assistance in putting it on. I declined, finally managing the panties and bra. For the show, I would be wearing an under bust corset, but since I presently had no breasts, a bra with forms would do the trick.

Then Bev attacked me with a waist training corset and soon was tugging on the laces with a vengeance. Maybe I should have been nicer to Bev; she is having a lot of fun at my expense. Thirty minutes later she had managed to get the corset closed, only having to put her knee on my back three times to get that little extra tightness. Of course, the panties deemed necessary for this type of dress had been slid up my legs earlier after my male underwear had been disposed of.

The dress is next, the one used for a boudoir scene. The best way to describe it was sex personified. If I had any kind of a bust, it would have been spilling out of the low cut neckline. The skirt flared out but swung freely around my legs as I tried to walk to the mirror to see my image. The sensations of the hem of the dress on my legs is most disturbing, but there was not much I could do about it. It is like everything was suddenly not in my control any longer, I had lost direction in my life.

Making the dress this way it fit me to a tee, not a quarter inch slack at it molded itself to my bodice. Janice opened her closet door, with a mirror on the back and asked me to describe the image that I saw. I was shocked, my male head withstanding I looked like a female, although my lack of breasts did spoil the illusion some. I dropped my head in defeat, telling Janice that I would give it a try, but if I fall flat, it is her responsibility.

Bev retrieved a box of shoes from the top of the rack and after pulling some knee highs up my legs slipped my feet into the heels. They were a basic pump with four-inch heels, with a decorative bow on the front. Then as Janice was admiring my shoes, she slipped a strap around the shoe, and my ankle and I heard a click. I tried to see what she had done, but the dress was hindering my sight. I felt the strap around my other ankle and another click.

I looked at Janice, but she just smiled, that will ensure that you get the needed practice in the heels before the curtain goes up. By the way, your corset also has a lock on it, in fact, we are adding them to custom orders for only a ten dollar surcharge. God, what a mess that I had gotten myself into, okay I wasn’t the only one that helped me get here, but obviously I was the one to have to suffer through it.

I had agreed to try to get through this, but the more I thought about it, the more I doubted the ability to pull it off. Janice kind of sensed me wavering on the decision and told me that I would be staying with her until the play ran its course. My mouth was open; my boss wanted me to move in with her until the play is wrapped up. I knew the end of the world would shortly follow. Janice is business orientated most of the time, only relaxing or letting her guard down after things are completed. For her to make that kind of offer is very unusual.

Janice is also divorced, her male lover caught cheating on her shortly after they married, and it was a messy divorce, her unfaithful lover trying to get his hands on some of her family’s wealth. He was at fault but tried to get some hush money to keep the divorce out of the papers and media. He seriously underestimated Janice; she announced it to all of their friends and families, making him look like the ass he was. Last she heard he was living in Australia, after giving her an uncontested divorce. He had bluffed, lost, and he paid the price tenfold.

I looked around the office looking for my clothes, but somehow they seemed to be missing. I looked at Bev, but the cat that ate the canary look answered my question. Bev handed me a suitcase, with clothes to wear for the next few weeks and told me she would see Teresa at work tomorrow. I had presumed that I would be in female mode until the play is completed but thought that I could still wear some of my male clothes from time to time. Apparently that was not to happen, anytime soon.

Then the mind processed Bev’s statement; they were planning to have me work as a female until the play was over. Now all of my employee’s would see the new me, I almost broke down in tears, the only thing saving that from happening was that I didn’t really know how to. Even after my divorce, when I lost custody of my two girls, I just couldn’t release all of my frustration and fears. Instead, I sucked it up, trying to overcompensate at work to fill the void.

Janice led me to her car with me carrying my small suitcase with me. I was numb, not knowing what to think or do, so I surrendered to her and just followed along, my heels making a clicking noise on the sidewalk. Her house is not far from work, with us arriving after a ten-minute drive. She pulled into her garage and got me out of the car. I am led upstairs to one of her guest rooms, with her taking my suitcase and laying it on the bed. She opened it and found a nightie, a toothbrush, and told me to head to the bathroom after she had unzipped the dress I was wearing.

I foolishly asked about the corset but am told that it stayed on until my waist achieved the right proportions. Once you have boobs the proper longer corset will be added to your figure. I managed the bathroom without much difficulty, but the image in the mirror is constantly mocking me. A very short time ago, I was a normal male, at least, I thought I was, but the image I saw in any mirror is that of a young female. The head spoiled the look, but I presumed they had something in mind to correct that fault too.

While I was in the bathroom, Janice had retrieved two cups of tea, offering me one as we set on the love seat next to the bedroom window. We sat in silence for several minutes, sipping the tea, and then I yawned. That was Janice’s clue to leave, so she set her cup down, took me in her arms, gave me a passionate kiss on the lips with tongue, and then told me to have sweet dreams. I climbed into bed, with the effects of the kiss still holding in my mind.

Where had that come from, Janice has never showed any interest in me other than a business relationship, at least if she had, I had totally missed the boat. I guess it would have been possible to miss some of the clues along the way, but I doubted it. With my keen interest in people and their actions, I surely would have noticed something romantic lurking in the wings.

All of the day’s activities soon caught up with me, that yawn earlier a precursor to many more followed by sleep soon after that. If I had dreams, I didn’t remember any of them, but the sleep is not as restful as most nights. I laid in bed the next morning for quite a while trying to make some sense of the recent events in my life. No conclusions were forthcoming.

Janice woke me up at seven A.M. telling me that I had to get in the shower, then dressed. My appointment is at nine, and you can’t show up at the salon in sweats or t-shirt and pants. I couldn’t see why not, but she is pushing me toward the bathroom slipping my nightie off as we made our way there. Inside the bathroom, she released the corset, and I visibly shook. The straps on my shoes were released too, a few moments respite felt good. That was until I tried to walk without the heels, pain radiated up from my calves, nothing major but a dull ache. I stood on my toes and the pain subsided some. This after only a day in the heels. After the shower it was back in the heels, although she did leave off the straps. I guess I could be trusted some now. I could now walk without some of the pain, my feet getting used to the extreme heel height too easily. It was weird sleeping in heels last night. Janice had suggested a pillow case to keep them from damaging the sheets. So with two pillow cases encasing my feet in heels I had finally made it under the sheets.

It felt so good to have the corset off for a while, but the feelings as it is being released seemed to mean something else. I had got used to the corset in that short amount of time, and as she released it, goose pimples popped up all over my body. Somehow taking it off seemed to symbolize the loss of something important to my image.

The shower is wonderful, but all too short. Janice is at the door, handing me a shift dress with a pair of panties. As I am slipping the panties up my legs, I notice the extra seams in the garment. Bev is more talented than I gave her credit for, she altered one of my patterns to make me a pair of panties using scrap. I look at Janice; there have to be more clothes for me than this. She smiles, the salon will handle you today, the less you wear the faster they can get your sex changed. That doesn’t sound good for me; I didn’t agree to a sex change or did I.

I am led from the house to her car, mumbling about anything and everything. Janice looks at me, typical female bitching about everything. The drive seemed forever, but that was probably because I was dreading what would happen. When she pulled up in front of the salon I swallowed hard. This place is huge, already packed with customers and so feminine. From the color of the walls to the myriad different décor items spread throughout the salon it dripped femininity. Janice had got out and came to the passenger side of the car, then she opened the door and extracted me from my seat. I tried to pull back, but she was on a mission, a mission she was going to succeed at.

I was dragged inside and Janice informed the receptionist that Teresa is here for her nine o’clock appointment. The receptionist called someone and soon I was being led away to my demise, at least, that is what it felt like. Janice did peck my cheek as I was being led away, my only thought is she is leaving me here all alone to try and cope with this. Soon I was led into a room and my dress and panties were removed. I tried to keep my panties on, but Heather the tech hugged me whispering that it would be alright. As she released the hug my panties fell to the floor. I was helped up onto a table and soon my front side is covered in a white cream. That included my male appendage, who wisely stayed flaccid trying to become invisible.

Thirty minutes later the cream was wiped off leaving soft bare hair free skin. During the treatment Heather engaged me in conversation, she was particularly interested in my part in the play. By the time my front side was finished we were friends, giggling at most anything like two silly school girls. My back side was next, finished the same way with identical results. This time during the treatment Heather worked on my nails, now I sported ten longish nails, the extra length due to some extensions she had glued on to my existing fingernails.

Next was my hair, washed and conditioned then set with curlers. I had kept my hair long and in a ponytail most of the time, that just made her job so much easier. With curls I am sure most of my masculine looking head would disappear. I did not have a strong chin and my eyebrows were never thick and grown together like some males had. My other features were modest, in the masculine range but not overtly so. The one disparaging feature was my nose, the only description that fit was cute. During my life I was reminded about it often, sometimes as an insult if delivered from a male but often as a compliment, the female wishing she had one as cute.

Heather told me they would cut in a style once I had picked out one suitable for the play. The current hairstyle was so that I would get accustomed to a feminine look, helping me get into the role of a sexy female. After the curlers were slathered in hairspray I was moved to a funny looking chair, helped to sit in it properly and then it was leaned back. As the chair leaned back my legs were spread quite wide, I thought I knew what was coming next. To my surprise she left me splayed like that and concentrated on my chest.

Clear cups were glued to my chest right above my nipples. They were plastic and quite good sized. A hose was hooked up to each and a pump turned on pulling some of my extraneous flesh into the cups. Like most males I had become a little flabby especially in regards to my torso. Exercise was so not my thing.

Then Heather moved to my lower extremity. A cool spray and I could feel nothing. It took her about forty minutes to readjust things, then glued my male appendage back between my legs, covering it with a too realistic looking vulva. I know most people refer to it as a vagina, but you have to remember I was trained as an engineer, detail and accuracy means a lot. I did let out several audible sighs, not that it did me any good. Meanwhile the pump was continuing in its quest to give me a sizable rack for my chest. Again another male thing, even in high school most males referred to a female’s breasts as a rack or boobies.

I did get a chance a look at my new appliance down below, I raised my head and dropped it immediately, the image now definitely that of a female’s sex. The slit with two puffy lips surrounding it would be welcome on a female, but not necessarily on me. I quickly wondered why junior had to be hid away just for a part in the play, but thinking when my mind is being assaulted by all kinds of new feelings and sensations it is not recommended. I had the start of a headache coming on, probably not the only one I will get today. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my work, even though I was not there it could help keep my thoughts on friendlier topics, ones that I could deal with.

With me still splayed uncomfortably Heather started putting polish on my new lengthened nails, a bright red although I would have much preferred a subtler shade of pink. I guess part of getting used to being a female means learning to be seen and appreciated. At first I thought my appearance would be comical, far from what a normal female should look like. But as my breasts developed and one look at my groin I now had serious doubts that I would turn out anything but pretty. I could picture myself in a corset, a slender waist finishing the look that my body needed to appear as an attractive female.

Speaking of which Heather soon returned with a very strict looking one, way longer that the ones we made. It was a pale ivory, with way too much lace sewn on. I was laced into it, Heather turned out to be much stronger than Bev, not having any trouble getting it snug. It came right up to the cups that had been secured to my chest and covered my new vulva but barely. If I thought I had problems last night dealing with the waist nipper this corset made that one look like a toy for a child. I tried several times trying to get a full breath into my lungs, a feat I soon learned would be impossible. Only short breaths worked, if I ever had to exert myself any, I am sure I would keel over from a lack of oxygen. I wondered about the clothes back at the plant, they might not fit me properly if I have lost more inches in my waist. This corset seemed to make me a lot smaller in the waist, while forcing any extra tissue either to my breasts or hips.

My hair was washed and conditioned, in fact several times Heather making the remark that I obviously knew nothing about taking care of my hair. Hey I washed it once every ten days whether it needed it or not. The stuff from the dollar store worked pretty good in my opinion. Then she cut it into a feminine style even wet it looked very feminine. Then came the curlers, lots of them with a healthy dose of setting gel used before my hair was wrapped around them. Looking in the mirror I presented quite a sight. A somewhat masculine looking face on top of a very feminine figure with my hair in a multitude of brightly colored curlers. What a sight.

Once my eyebrows were eliminated, my face lost most of its masculinity. Then when she penciled in the higher arch, Teresa was here to stay. Heather set me under a dryer, so my hair can be dried, the warm almost hot air making me a little uncomfortable. I giggled a little, breasts being sucked from my chest and I am complaining about the hot air from the dryer.

Once dry she removed the curlers, and lightly brushed my hair. The image in front of me now definitely a female, the long curly strands laying on my shoulders while the ones on top of my head were amassed framing my face. I received some basic makeup, mascara, some rouge on my cheeks and a right pink lipstick. I was quite a sight, standing there dressed to go out in a corset and panties.

Oh there were still the cups on my chest, now almost full to capacity. Heather turned off the pump, detached the hoses letting my new breasts settle into the cups of the corset. I reached one hand to touch them, the warmness and the mobility of them surprising me. She had told me the cups stay on, eventually dissolving, but what I was touching felt just like a real breast. Yes, I have felt a real breast or two during my life, these babies felt just like the ones I had fondled before.

I heard a squeal and turned to see who had made the noise. There stood Bev with a garment bag over her shoulder and her one hand over her mouth. She laid the bag over a chair and launched herself in my direction. I was hugged, groped, pinched and generally woman handled. I did get a kiss, as she whispered in my ear that Janice is going to go ballistic when she sees you. I doubt you will be standing when she finishes with you. My mouth was open, Janice seemed to have a thing for me, and it was pretty well known by all around me. I, however, was totally clueless in the matter.

Once my new look was absorbed she went to get the garment bag and unzipped it. Then pulled out another dress, she had made for me, I could see the many different parts used to assemble the dress. She held the dress open for me as I stepped into it, then she buttoned up the buttons at the back of the dress. I felt trapped now, I doubted I could reach half of them, now dependent on someone to help me undress. I thought of Janice helping me out of the dress and blushed a crimson red. I looked at the image in the mirror, the dress hugged every curve of my body like it had been painted on me. I can see that Bev has been very busy, probably giggling the whole time, making dresses for her formerly male boss. I said former male, I really doubted that all of this could just be taken off and I would instantly return to my male body, the breasts lying in the cups of the corset a prime example. Incidentally, the dress had a plunging neckline leaving at least half of my breast showing above the bodice top. My nipples barely covered, and trying to poke themselves out of their confines.

It was hard to get used to my breast just lying in the cup of the corset. Nothing keeping them there but gravity. Any leaning over or exaggerated motion most likely causing them to escape their confines. I presume a female gets used to this somewhat, but a new female with no previous experience not so much. So I walked and moved with care, not sure how I would react when one of my tits plopped out of my dress. I was gathered up, Bev signing for my services and taken to her car. She had been instructed to gather me up and take me directly to Janice, no stops, no dilly dallying but straight to Janice.

On the ride back I tried to talk to Bev about Janice. Even talking took a lot of effort, the corset making all things including breathing lots more difficult. I finally got out the words, Bev just smiling. Everybody in the plant knows about Janice’s infatuation with you. You may be smart, but what is right in front of you seems to evade your senses. Ever since she hired you a couple of years ago, she has had the hots for you, but you just cruised along impervious to everything happening around you. When the accident happened she instantly became engrossed in this mission. Taking away your masculinity, and into her bed she is going to make you over into her perfect lover. I suggest you go along, no matter how you feel, Janice on a mission never fails.

We parked at her townhouse and Bev got me to the door, rang the doorbell and turned and left. I just stood there not knowing what to expect. The door opened, she gave me a thorough look, not missing much, her eyes covering every inch of my feminized figure. She ran her tongue over her lips, in anticipation, then reached out and grabbed my hand yanking me inside. I was soon being kissed, a kiss like I have never experienced before. Pure lust is maybe the best description. Gawd, how could I have missed her feelings for me, I must have had my head up my ass the entire time I worked alongside of her.

She had a fun time for the next five hours as my new body was thoroughly explored. I was just going along for the ride, and what a ride it was. She finally gave out, I was thankful as she had me squirming, moaning, and screaming for the entire time. My former male body could not handle all that was happening to me, I am not complaining, but doubt I will ever embrace the male disguise ever again.

I was accepted as my new persona at the plant, getting hugs from the gals and polite handshakes from the few guys we employed. By the time of the play I was immersed in my portrayal of Marilyn, even my voice seemed to fit the character now.

Even though I was scared to death on opening night the play was an unqualified success playing for six weekends. I stayed as Teresa after the play finished six weeks of dressing and acting as a female pretty much making returning to the life of a male not possible or desired. I never did go back to my apartment, Janice saw to my things being done away with, and since that first evening I had never been anywhere but in her bed.

About six months later my ex-wife contacted me asking if I could take the girls to raise. Her newest conquest did not want the girls under any conditions so she was hoping I would take them back. I reluctantly told her of my changes, she giggled into the phone, she had me checked out and was already aware of my new looks, the girls anxious to see their new mommy. Janice was ecstatic when I told her, even went with me to pick up the girls. Kay my ex was speechless when she saw me for the first time, hugging me hard and tight. I think she now realized what she had and let get away. A few minutes later two squealing girls came and tackled me, not letting go when I tried to get them to our car. I saw a tear or two in Kay’s eyes as we left, but turned away. It was her decision and she is the one that has to live with it.

Janice helped me herd the girls into the back seat and she drove. The chatter from the two was infectious, they seemed so happy now. At the house we got them settled into their room, hanging their clothes in their closet. Both were in school, so I will stay working then leave early so that I can pick them up at school.

Life turned out to be good after that, Janice and I marrying about three months later, our girls by our sides. Bev is now handling most of my previous job, I just check in on her if she needs help. Almost every time I do she has a bag of clothes for me and the girls, each custom made to our measurements.

Janice’s true love the theater is doing well, lots of volunteers now and three corporate sponsors to boot. I get called in from time to time to play a small part, but nothing like the Marilyn part. If Janice has her way she is going to do the Marilyn play again on the anniversary of its original playing five years ago. Once she let it slip that she was considering the idea it was all over the papers and we had hundreds of request for tickets. When I saw Bev sewing the dresses for the play, I knew it would happen, the smirk on her face so evil.

I had some help in the beginning, well to be truthful lots of help. But what resulted from the help is so wonderful. I have the love of my life and my two girls and friends all over the community. Now that I am a female I am certain it is the right gender for me. The fact that Janice is my soul mate, all the better.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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