Jean Marie; A Favor For Sis

Being one-half of a set of fraternal twins can be at times exasperating. Just yesterday my nefarious twin accosted me in my bedroom, wanting a big favor from me. When she set down on my bed, I knew it was going to be bad. Anytime she gets comfortable; I know that the favor is going to be absurd. She feels that she has to explain everything to me so that I will see the reasoning for her asking the favor.

If she was just a little more careful in her endeavors, she would not get herself into these predicaments. In the past, her request for favors has somewhat put a strain on our relationship. We have always been very close, getting along with each other, not like most brother-sister relationships. I really would do almost anything she asked of me, knowing she would do the same for me.

I guess some of the closeness between us came as a result of how we were brought up. Because of our names I had a rather hard time at school. At birth, Mom was trying to appease our grandmothers, so we were bestowed with the names of Jean Michelle and Jean Marie. Now that would not be so bad for two girls, but a boy and a girl is another matter. I received the very feminine name Jean Marie, and my sister was named Jean Michelle.

We found out later that Mom was expecting two girls, not a boy, and a girl. The ultrasound image proved to be incorrect in this case. We have no idea if it was the technician or the equipment, but in any case, the prediction was wrong, and my parents were surprised. Unfortunately, the grandmothers had already been told of the names, so to avoid disappointment, Mom kept to the original names selected.

Keep in mind that the grandmothers were getting up in age and not in the best of health. Now for a boy to go through life with the name of Jean Marie, he has to be unusually tough. My parents started calling me Jean to keep down my embarrassment. The schools, however, went by my name on my records, hence during the first few days of school each year, some teacher would call out my real name. When I answered, that sealed my fate for the rest of the year.

My family did move several times during our schooling, but each time I was committed to purgatory during the first few days of school. Most of my female classmates treated me with respect and did not embarrass me; after the first few days, life with them was tolerable. However, I was usually called Jean Marie, not Jean. I tried to get them to call me Jean, but they said that Jean Marie just was easier to remember.

I wasn’t sure that it was easier to remember, but I am sure some of the females were getting a little laugh at my expense. With regards to the boys, it was a totally different matter. It was like a compulsion to them. Because my name was Jean Marie, they had to ridicule me at every opportunity. Most of the time, it ended up as name calling. Sissy was a word that I quickly became familiar with, although it was a couple of years later before I really understood exactly what the name entails. They were relentless with the teasing, quite often in the halls before everyone.

This only encouraged the other students to participate in the fun. There was a group of boys that always wanted to push the envelope beyond teasing. Bullies are what we call them now, taking the name-calling and teasing to the next level. I was never big for my age, so getting pushed, tripped and knocked down was to be expected. I even was placed in my locker once, yes, inside of it along with my books. It took the school janitor several hours to remove me since they had put a different lock on my makeshift cell.

If it only happened once, I would probably be able to handle the humiliation, but over my grade and early high school years it happened three times. Sis was outraged that they would do this to me; it required a lot of talking to get her calmed down. My sister tried to help me whenever she could, trying to step in to give me much-needed support. This only resulted in her getting picked on for helping me.

I finally told her to help me when she could do so anonymously, but otherwise refrain. There was no use in both of us getting beat up. She wasn’t happy with the idea but did agree in the end. I know this was one of the reasons for our closeness, she was sharing in my grief. I was able to return her helpfulness some since I was above average in academics; so we studied together often as I helped her with her homework. I don’t think she would have graduated high school without my help. She was smart, but it took until her sophomore year in college before she was able to take advantage of her IQ. She was a beautiful young lady in school. Unfortunately, she knew it, and her studies suffered in high school.

Too much to do, too many parties to go to, definitely too much shopping, and other distractions to divert her attention from academics. Once she wised up, her grades improved dramatically. When her senior year ended her GPA was 3.6, an improvement from her 2.9 in her sophomore year. During her senior year, she was helping me with my courses, instead of the other way around.

Past favors that she had implicated me in were many and numerous, but the one that I remember the most was when she asked me to impersonate her on a blind date. I was shocked when she had made the original request. During our teenage years, we had never dressed up as each other as so often twins do. There was one Halloween when she managed to get me into a dress, but it was as Elvira, and she went as the hulk.

Nobody recognized me that year, but I attempted to keep the accomplishment very low profile. The dressing for the blind date was so over the top that it took her a week to persuade me to do it. The excuse was that her girlfriend had arranged the date, but she could not stand the young man. To keep from hurting her friend’s feelings she couldn’t get out of the date. She felt that I could fill in for her with no difficulty, and I conceded that I might be able to pull it off. The realization that she thought that I could pass for her with ease shook up my staid opinion of myself.

We were almost identical in our appearance except for the difference in gender. Our facial features were similar, with my lips a little larger than hers, but she definitely had the cuter nose. We kept our ash blonde hair shoulder length, although I usually didn’t have mine styled. It turned out for the date that it would be necessary so that I could impersonate her.

The guy had never met sis, but the girlfriend was part of the other couple on that double date. Hence, I needed to come as close as possible to her likeness. I also had to get my other ear pierced since up to that time I had only one of my ears pierced. Sis did have quite an attractive shape, blossoming into womanhood as is common with that age. I was straight as a board up and down, although I was very skinny, necessitating only to be padded out.

Even if I got found out, it was my sister’s intention never to have another date with this man. At least she was thoughtful enough to allow me a week to get into the masquerade. She had known about the date for several weeks, one week trying to figure out how she could get me to do the favor for her. One week to convince me that I wanted to do this for her, and a week to perfect my disguise.

The extent that my sister went to make my impersonation realistic was phenomenal. Realistic breast forms glued to my chest, a padded brief helping my lower torso to round out a little. My longish hair was styled in a feminine cut, a professional makeover, and a custom made dress that fit my figure to perfection was my reality. Of course, all of that produced the required result with the blind date not realizing that he was dating another male. If her girlfriend figured out my disguise she never mentioned it. I kind of figured out why, since she was in constant lip lock with her date all evening, too busy to pay much attention to me.

Thankfully it was not a hands on type of date, and my purgatory was limited to talking a lot, a few grabs of the ass, and a goodnight kiss on the lips. My voice not had broken yet, still in the neutral area between a male and a female. I won’t comment on the kiss since males are not supposed to like those type of affections shown them. It wasn’t that bad an ordeal; I was treated nicely and except for feeling so weird, I did have a little fun, however, I did not want to make a habit of this.

With regards to our parents, they were among the wealthy people, not extremely rich, but not hurting for anything. They had set up trust funds for our college, early in life, and they were now fairly substantial with the interest and profit from the stocks they had invested in. They were ours to do what we wanted to with them, but with the condition that we would get no more from them until they died.

They had been teaching us how to handle money, trying to get us to be responsible in our financial dealings. When we graduated high school, we were allowed to control our funds as long as our parents got to oversee the transactions. The size of the trusts were considerable, with both Sis and I investing quite a bit of these funds in stocks since we would not need the entire amount for our college.

We stayed local, at the state university majoring in business management and marketing, so our expenses were quite reasonable. Our investments paid off with the dot-com explosion, and we doubled the funds in only a few months. We were just shy of having enough to retire with, but retirement at this time was not in our plans, for either of us.

Back to the here and now, as my sister positioned her posterior on my bed. I was fearful of any requests for favors from her, but I was receptive enough to hear her out. She needed a really big favor from me, lasting for a week. She reminded me that her current job was in turmoil, with her company not knowing what they were going to do in the upcoming few months.

There had been rumors of layoffs since several of their clients were declining to renew their contracts, although, at the time, they were still being negotiated. At this time, it was not known if they were just trying to get a better deal or if they were shopping at the competition. Sis was trying to preserve her career by getting an interview with another company. The job was similar to what she was doing now, with a small increase in pay. The benefits were much better, with the new company offering a wide range of advantages in work hours and scheduling.

Unfortunately, her present job had a critical negotiation with their biggest client the same week of the interview. Compounding that problem was the fact that the negotiation was being held on the west coast. Since we were located on the east coast, something had to give. She asked me to attend the interview for her, and if the job was offered, take the training seminar for the rest of the week.

What made it all the more plausible is the fact that I am working as a consultant for small businesses. This is done from home, with only a few face to face meetings necessary. I gave small companies advice on incorporating, helped them with their business plans for financing, and other business related services. I had numerous referrals over the last few months and had managed to develop it into a profitable business.

Now a one-day impersonation might be something I could handle, but a week’s worth is out of the question. Sis and I argued about this for several hours, but I would not budge, and she didn’t want to lose out on a good potential job if her company started cutting the workforce. She had been with then for only a year and a half, not having much seniority. We decided to leave the discussion until tomorrow, with both of us thinking about it. I think she finally realized that I might not come around to her wishes.

I laid awake most of the night thinking about what my sister wanted, an unreasonable request in a way, but I could see why she was trying to cover all her bases. The more I thought about it, the more I could see her point. It would be probably embarrassing for me, especially if I was discovered. The actual dressing like a woman is quite an ordeal, especially after all I had gone through last time for the blind date, I can imagine what she has in mind for me this time.

I had a couple of conditions, but if she agreed I would do it for her, the pushover in me coming to the fore. The next morning we resumed the discussion, “I will do this for you, but at a cost. What you have asked of me is no trivial task.” After being knocked over with her enthusiastic hug, I tried to maintain control of the conversation. “You need to agree to my conditions; that first, nothing permanent to be done to me, and second my insistence that, however, this turns out, the week time limit applies.” She was accepting immediately on those two points.

Next for the deal breaker. I was hoping that if I made my cost to her significant enough that she would forget the whole matter. “I want to be paid for my time, while I do as you request.” I did fairly well in my business, getting most of my business from referrals of previous customers. It was a niche type of business, but one that I managed to make quite profitable.”

“My price for doing her this favor was to replace my income for two weeks. I made about thirty-five thousand dollars in the last two weeks.” Of course, Jean Michelle did not have to know that it was the best two weeks that I have ever had.

There was deafening silence for quite a while as she tried to come to grips with my request. I could see the light come on in her mind, finally realizing what she had asked of me. She started conversations several times, but the words she would like to use did not come to her lips. Hence, the subject withered away. Finally, after thirty minutes she managed to gather her wits. “I will accept your terms, all of them, without reservations.” Now I am the one shocked and lacking verbiage.

Then she added another benefit to the equation. “If I successfully pulled this off, she would buy me a new wardrobe of my choice to the tune of fifty thousand dollars. She added a little side bet, between her and me, if I was confident enough of my feelings and emotions. After the week, she bet me that I would choose to stay a woman, instead of going back to a male persona. The new wardrobe would help in dressing the new me.” I am speechless, the idea of me staying as a woman after the impersonation is ridiculous.

I am not transgendered, nor a crossdresser, why would I stay as a woman. There was no careful consideration of the bet, it is outrageous, and I would win the bet hands down. I agreed to the bet, but in my haste to discard the idea, I didn’t even ask what she would be required to do if I became a man again.

With the decision and conditions set, we agreed my transformation would begin tomorrow. She told that she had made appointments for me for the next few days, to transform the old me to the new Jean Michelle. The first day of my impersonation was the interview and assessment by the new company, a week from now. She had been told I would be most likely hired after I am assessed on my skills and interests.

Then the salary and job description would be finalized based on what they found out. We decided that I would use the name of Jean M. on all the pertinent forms. This would keep her or me from being confronted later with deception in obtaining a job. I would drop by the Driver’s License Bureau to have my ID changed to Jean M. She had already obtained copies of all her transcripts for the interview. The transcripts were identical for the two of us, since we took the same courses, although not at the exact same time.

I could, therefore, concentrate on the transformation for the whole week. My voice is rather high for a male, so only a change in some vocabulary would be needed in that regard. We got to bed about two A.M. for a few hours’ sleep. She would head off to work in the morning, and I would head to the beauty salon that would do my transformation.

The appointment is for eight A.M., requiring me to get up at seven to be able to make it. I was told that it would take two full days at the salon for all the changes to be made and for me to be taught to do my own hair and makeup. Then one more day later in the week for a crash course in appropriate clothing choices. After work, she was going to meet me at the salon, and we would go out to eat. Neither of us likes to cook for ourselves, so eating out is a fairly standard practice.

We still lived at home, since our parents were often gone for months. It was a combination of look after the house, and us being too lazy to find ourselves apartments. Our parents were in France now, enjoying the Mediterranean, the first of several stops before they returned in December.

I was nervous the next morning as I got dressed. The salon is the same one she used last time, although they were using some different procedures on me since the period of disguise is longer. In the past the stylists and technicians were very friendly, treating me just like a regular customer. No snide remarks, no whispering behind my back, just a professional attitude throughout the entire transformation. This time, I am wondering what they might think of my excursion into extreme femininity.

I managed to get myself dressed and to the salon on time. I was greeted at the door and escorted to one of the private rooms. The Turnabout Gurl Salon is widely known in the area now, opening to the public just before my blind date transformation. Their reputation had spread in the interim, now even at eight in the morning, they were busy. They had obviously decorated some more since I was here last. The whole place dripped femininity, the soft colors, the lacy curtains, the uniforms of their technicians, and the large mural sized pictures of beautiful females.

I was aware of their catering to the M2F population since there were several male clientele getting their hair done this morning, but the number of women they had as customers astounded me. At least, at first glance they looked like females. In all of their advertising, they stressed that if they could make a male look like a female, just imagine what they could do for the true female client. It was obvious that their advertising is working.

As I entered the private room, Gina greeted me at the door. Her uniform is a sight to behold. A variation of a French maid’s outfit, done all in pink, with lace and petticoats everywhere. I told her that I loved her outfit, she telling me that she could arrange for me to wear one before I left. That quieted me down since I didn’t want to experience that pleasure.

She had done my hair removal last time, and she remembered my name. She told me to undress and lay down on the table. My lack of confidence and self-awareness always seem to show up when I am embarrassed and naked. My male body is alright, nothing exceptional, but shyness and self-doubt abound, turning me into something less than masculine. I am blushing several shades of red, but Gina just helps me over to the table, laying a pillow behind my neck. She tells me to get comfortable, and soon it will be over.

As she inspects my body for hair, she is amazed at how little my body hair has regrown. She informed me that one more treatment should leave me hairless permanently, the wax they used containing an ingredient that kills the follicle of the hair. I was thinking of other things and failed to notice the significance of what she was saying. She did go over my entire body, not missing any source of body hair. She applied the hot wax, placed a cloth on it and ripped it from my body. I shouldn’t have made the comment about her uniform; she definitely was getting even for that remark and enjoying it way too much as she ripped away.

After the cloths were ripped from my body, she applied cream to the still warm skin and rubbed it in. From my neck to my toes, there was not a single strand of hair attached to my body. The pain is still there, a bit dull but several stressful throbs mixed in here and there. Maybe it was just that I was getting used to it since it did not seem to be as bad as last time.

She got me a diet coke to drink, and we chatted for a few moments. Gina is curious as to my decision to go the full route this time; I must have been on some type of drug because I missed what she is eluding to. I am thinking of doing it for a week versus the one-day impersonation last time. She was talking about me getting the semi-permanent treatments that lasted for up to a year. So we both missed what the other is saying, and she resumed the treatments. My eyebrows were next; the end result, a very thin, arched line of hair over each eye, identical to my sister.

Then she asked me how often I had to shave my face. I usually only had to shave once a week but to hide my lack of facial hair I told her that I shaved every other day. She went to a cabinet and pulled out some jars of liquid, looking through them for a certain bottle. When she found it, she shook it up and then found a sponge to apply it with. I was told that I had to lay still and try not to move my facial muscles. It was something important because she repeated it twice.

I nodded my head, and she started applying the liquid to my beard area. The cool liquid made my facial skin tighten up, and then the skin relaxed as the liquid became warmer. She left it on my skin for thirty minutes, with my nose twitching. Why is it that you need to scratch your nose when someone is doing something to your face or eyebrows? After thirty minutes, she removed the creamy liquid, then used an astringent on my face. The tingling felt good, as my face felt cleaner than it ever has before.

She assured me that I would not have to shave for at least six months that was why the solution strength was important. If I shaved less often, she would have used a weaker solution, thus neutralizing the weaker hair follicles a little better. I realized that I should have told her the truth on how often I shaved. I asked what if she has used a stronger solution for me, what would be the results. She smiled telling me that I would never have to shave again.

Typically when they do the semi-permanent treatments they try to time the treatments so that after a year the customer can return to his original gender if they wanted. I wanted to say something, but I was at a loss for words. If I do dress like a male again, I guess that I will not have to worry about shaving my face. Anyway, it is apparent that worrying about that now is futile.

Tracy, a new technician, entered the room, asking me if I was ready for the next step. I nodded my head, still worrying about what I had inadvertently caused with my little white lie, a while ago. She looked my body over, taking a few measurements as she went. She pulled the stirrups out of the table and asked me to put my feet in them. She used a strap to attach them to the stirrups, and then spread the stirrups further apart so she could work on my groin.

This was the part that I was not looking forward to. Since my pillow had been removed, my head was lying flat on the table. To see what she was doing, I had to lift my head, a position that was hard to maintain. Tracy asked if I had any questions about what she was going to do, but I stupidly told her no.

She sprayed some cool liquid on my genitals, with me losing any feelings there a few minutes later. She pulled and tugged on them for a while, positioning them where she wanted them. I felt a little movement in my scrotum but, for the most part, was unable to feel anything as she positioned my testicles. I did feel when she pushed my testicles back into my body, a position that I learned was possible last time I was in for the transformation.

At that time, they just taped my organs between my legs with surgical tape to give me the flat front of a woman. I was sure Tracy was aiming for something a little more stable than tape. She leaned over to tell me that she was inserting my penis into a sheath, attached to a false vulva that would give me the outward appearance of a natural female.

That false female sex would be glued to my body, keeping me secure and looking natural. It would take a while for her to get it set right, so she suggested that I just relax and think pleasant thoughts. It took her over an hour to complete the procedure, but when she showed me how it looked in the mirror, I was flabbergasted. I had managed to see several vulvas in my time as a male, but this was the most beautiful one to date. I know obviously I am prejudiced.

The fact that it is mine and not a girlfriends was the kicker. She had even added pubic hair in the shape of a triangle, to make my new female sex seem more realistic. She moved her fingers over the lips, then slid one into the slit. I jerked when I felt the touch of her finger inside me.

Tracy smiled, informing me that it works, that I can feel movements just like a real female. If sex is on the menu, you can have regular sex just like a female, feeling penetration and movement within the vulva. You will have to pee like a woman now since your plumbing is identical to any female. The best part is that the appliance is secure for at least nine months or more.

That statement did get my attention; I thought that this would all be removed in a couple of weeks, but no, apparently I am committed for a much longer time. I knew that she had not set this up; it was arranged by my sister, the little cheat. I wasn’t upset at Tracy, but couldn’t wait to get my hands on my sister. I asked a couple of more questions, trying not to let it be known that I was clueless as to what was to be done to me.

I did find out that the semi-permanent treatments were designed for a long term of nine months to a year. That’s why sis was convinced that I would stay as a girl since nothing was coming off, guaranteeing me a feminine future. I was given a robe and told that a break had been scheduled about now since it would be another five hours before Tracy was finished with me. I found out that hips, breasts, and waist, plus a few corrections on my face are still on the agenda.

She led me to a lounge in the back of the salon where I was offered tea, and then a wide assortment of delicious pastries. I was informed that they were, of course, low calorie, not adding to my figure. This is said as she giggled, taking a bite of her own low-calorie treat.

I had taken the time to try and figure out what I am going to do. I knew that my sister had gone way overboard on this, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, that her reason is the potential job. Why the semi-permanent treatments for a one-week impersonation. I decided a little detective work was called for, and asked Tracy to find out who my sister approached for the appointments.

She left for a minute, then returned bringing another lady with her. It was indeed a lady, the way she carried herself, full of confidence and ready to take on the world. I introduced myself, being the brother of Jean Michelle, and asked her if I could talk to her for a moment. She was willing and escorted me to her office, for a little more privacy. I told Tracy I would be right back, just needed to find out a few things. I was shown to a seat in her office.

She had an idea what I wanted to know but made me promise never to divulge the source of my information. It turned out her name is Francine, the owner of the Turnabout Gurl Salon chain. Gina had already brought me to her attention. Gina had told her that I was clueless about the kind of treatments arranged for me.

Francine had already talked with my sister, telling her that the salon wasn’t a willing participant to transformations where the client is not aware of the degree and permanence of the treatments. Francine did not tell me what my good for nothing sister said when confronted on the phone. Francine had already arranged for me to have lunch with her so that I could be made aware of what exactly is happening. I explained my part in the transformation, what I had agreed to, what I did not agree to, and the reason that Jean Michelle had told me that I was doing this for.

She told me that nothing done today or tomorrow is permanent, but would definitely last much longer than the two-week scenario. Most of the appliances would be ten months to a year before they could be safely removed. She asked if I wanted to stop the treatments, if, so she would handle my sister. They frown on males being tricked or coerced into becoming women. I told Francine that I would like a little time to think about what I should do.

She suggested that I take an early lunch, and think about it. I agreed, and she ordered lunch for us, a nearby diner furnished her customer’s meals when needed. She showed me to the lounge that I had a break in a little while ago. There was a small secluded room to the rear and Francine led me there. She asked to eat with me, so she could answer some more questions for me. I agreed, and within ten minutes our food was being delivered.

We chit chatted for a while; then I asked her if my sister had mentioned who her interview was with. She smiled, telling me it was a company that she did business with. In fact, she was the one that told my sister about the job opening. One of her old college friends runs their personnel department. Francine figured where I was headed, mentioning that she would make a few phone calls.

Francine knew that my schooling was the same as my sister since I had told her that was why my sister wanted me to impersonate her. She left the room, returning thirty minutes later with the biggest smile. Her friend would be over in a couple of hours to interview me.

I thought I had come up with an original plan to take the job away from my sister, thus leaving her with only her present job. Francine was way ahead of me, though. I figured that if I was going to be stuck as a woman for a year, I might as well have the job that she was interviewing for. I could always still do a little freelance work on the side. I told Francine to tell Tracy that I wanted the rest of the treatments, as had been arranged for.

She told me that I could switch to a less permanent modification if I desired. I told her, no if I was going to do this I was doing it right, first class all the way. Besides, Jean Michelle was paying for it. Among all the talk, we did manage to devour our lunches since I had never known soup and salad could be so good. Francine suggested dinner with her, and staying at her house for the evening, so that we could make more plans. She would call her friend, and have her meet us at her house instead.

After lunch, Tracy resumed my modifications, with appendages for the chest the next item on the agenda. My chest area was thoroughly cleaned, and then a thick liquid spread on my chest. An apparatus that fit on either side of my chest was lowered, then two gelatin-like blobs inserted into a cone shape breast cup. The bottom of the cups were attached to my skin with a medical adhesive. After those were attached to the forms the suction pulled any extraneous tissue into the cups with the gelatin substances. There was a little more suction added and the cups started to pulsate. Then all of it started to heat up, with it getting quite warm as the process continued.

Tracy leaned over to my face and told me to take a nap since this was going to continue for a little over four hours. I didn’t fall asleep, but I spent the time trying to figure out why my sister had tried to get me trapped as a woman. As far as I knew, I had not done anything to her, for her to want revenge. Why she had lied to me to get me in a female persona for upwards to a year was beyond me.

I figured me taking this job for myself if the company liked what they saw, would maybe teach her a lesson. Then she would be stuck with her present job, a fate that maybe she deserved. For some reason, the chance to work as a woman somehow appealed to me. Other than the favor to Jean Michelle for the blind date, I really had never dressed outside of the one Halloween. I didn’t think that I wanted to become a woman, I liked women, I often dated, enjoying their company immensely.

The few times that I had sex with one of them, it was enjoyable, but I never developed a relationship with any of them. Too many of my clients in my business were female; I just seemed to click with them, while my few male clients were always more of a chore to please with regards to my work.

I came out of my daze when Tracy released the suction from my chest. Then she raised the apparatus and low and behold I now had breasts. After she had moved the device away from my body, she returned to check her work. She felt them, and then she pinched my nipple lightly. I jerked away from her, I actually felt her touch my nipple. The forms were still there, now somewhat flexible and squishy. They would remain, then dissolve away after a few days. I looked up at her, wondering how that was accomplished. The biggest smile came over her face, her only comment being that I had a lot of catching up to do, to realize the potential for this new body of mine.

I was amazed at this latest development since my breasts were protruding from my chest just as if they were real. I guess in a way they were real, not something glued to my skin, but a part of me. I reached up to support my new titties, the weight being significantly more than I thought. My fingers moving to my nipples as if they was a magnet pulling them to that point.

Next, she had me roll over and proceeded to cleanse my lower half, and then added a different form and swung the unit back around, so it was directly above my hips. Two more gel balls were sucked up into the forms and the unit was lowered until the suction made contact with my skin. Quickly the slack skin was sucked up into the forms, and the pulsating started. My skin warmed up, as before, and then the regular pulsations deepened as more of my body is forced into the forms.

Since these forms were much larger, it felt that my whole rear end was in that contraption. The vacuum seemed to increase again, and more of my lower body had retreated into the forms. I sighed, knowing that I would soon have a very feminine butt, albeit a little larger than I had imagined due to the pulsating suction of the device. When the machine shut down, releasing the suction on my posterior, my new enlarged hips actually quivered a little. The forms would dissolve in a few days, until then I had a perfectly shaped female butt. As Tracy moved the device away, I looked over my shoulder at my new posterior.

They seemed to be huge, the flesh bouncing and wiggling slightly, as any movement I made caused a ripple to sway through them. Imagine what they will be like when the forms dissolve. I asked Tracy about the process that they used, as my hands glided over my new breasts and hips. She told me that it was a new process that used a special fat, sometimes used after liposuction to augment an area that needed enhancing. It had been injected in the area; then the body would absorb some of it in the cells in that area, causing the enhancement.

Their process used heat to dissolve the fat, allowing it to be absorbed by the body quicker. As the suction pulsated stretching the skin some, the fat was absorbed into the area. After the swelling had gone down, caused by the suction, the fat remained, thus the breasts and hips that I now possessed. It was a relatively new process, but with no breaking of the skin and using natural body fat, it was quite safe. I started to ask about how it could be removed, but decided at this point, the answer to that question could wait. I doubted that I would have liked the answer anyway.

We took another short break, then returned so she could work on my face. She wanted to emphasize my cheekbones a little more and plump up my lips. For this, she used some of the fat spreading it on the desired areas, then used a device that applied a moist heat to the area. After several applications, she used a form to shape the desired area so that the fat would be deposited where she wanted it. All in all, she put a layer of the fat on my lips and cheeks, twenty-five times, followed by the heat treatment.

I could feel my lips getting plumper as she worked the area. More than once, I asked her if my lips weren’t large enough, but she told me that the difference between a good looking female and a gorgeous female was the lips and eyes. You have the eyes, and now the lips will match. Finally at six-thirty Tracy finished with me.

She brought me some clothes, including a bra and girdle, to dress in so that I could go home with Francine. I was told the bra and girdle would be needed 24/7 until the forms had dissolved completely, at least two to three days. Her choice of clothing was a LBD, stockings, and a slip with a garter belt to hold up the stockings. I gave her a one eyebrow raised look, she giggled but told me that it was necessary for dinner. Besides you now have the figure for it.

Before I could say anything more, Susan, another technician came in carrying a wig and some makeup. In short order, the makeup was applied, and my wig was attached. Looking in the mirror, there is no sign of my former male self. With a little different makeup, I would look exactly like my sister.

Francine showed up carrying a black pair of stiletto heels, with an ankle strap. Tracy helped with the heels, and then Francine asked if I was ready to conquer the world. I giggled but thought that dinner might be better. I was ravished, soup, salad, and snacks do not make for a full stomach. I am handed a purse, told my ID is in it, and then given the mascara and lipstick that Susan had used on me.

Francine grabbed my arm, I think for support since walking in heels was not my strong point, and we were off. As we got to her car, a white Mercedes, she clicked the locks, and I got in the passenger seat. I was quickly complimented on my ladylike entrance, remembering to smooth my skirt before I sat. Where I picked that up from, I don’t remember. Francine drove us to a restaurant on the other side of town, a very exclusive eatery that was usually packed and required reservations. As we approached the Maitre’D, she was apparently recognized, he grabbed some menus and led us to a secluded table in the far corner of the dining room. He asked her if the white wine was okay, her nodding assent that it was.

Soon thereafter a waitress arrived bringing the bottle and two glasses. She popped the cork, poured the glasses and left. Francine asked if the white wine was okay, I told her it was fine, what I usually drank. I asked what was good here since I have never been able to afford to eat here. Her response that everything here was excellent, but her favorite was the broiled salmon.

That sounded good, so when the waitress returned to take our order, the salmon was what we both ordered. Francine had the asparagus, and I had the broccoli. I asked her if she came here often, she just smiled, then mentioned that this was her regular table reserved for her at all times. So, the answer is yes, I frequent this establishment often. Our food was brought out soon thereafter, and it was as she had stated, delicious and mouthwatering. We chit chatted for a while, and then when the plates were removed, the waitress brought us tea. It was the best tea I had ever tasted and brewed just like I made it.

She asked me a few more questions about my past, especially about my relationship with my sister. I tried to respond appropriately, telling her how we have a close relationship, but at times Jean Michelle tends to step over the boundaries and act without consulting me. I love her but would prefer to do without the fallout that results from some of her escapades.

We talked some more about my plan to even the score with her a little, but she was unsure of how me agreeing to live as a woman for a year was going to help her see the error of her ways. Put that way, I tended to agree, telling her that I also tended to do things on the spur of the moment without proper consideration of the consequences.

Francine thought that my biggest problem would be dressing and living the female lifestyle. It varies tremendously from the male life. Makeup, hair styling, and clothing choices would be a daunting task even for the most prepared individual. I asked her if she had any better idea for this problem that I find myself in. She suggested that we wait until her friend interviewed me and see what might be offered to me.

She seemed to be thinking all the time, and her advice is sound and accurate. She asked for the check, telling the waitress to add the normal gratitude and she signed it. We left to head to her house, Francine telling me that her friend should be there already. As we pulled into the drive, I was surprised at the simple elegance of her home. Nothing lavish and garish, just a cute colonial style house on well-manicured grounds. We pulled into the double garage, next to a late model corvette. As I exited, I asked her how long she has had the house. It looked well cared for, for a house that was nearing one hundred years old. She told me that it was one of the first things she had bought when the salons started to take off.

She showed me in, giving me a tour of the house, eventually, we ended upstairs, and she showed me where my bedroom was. A beautiful slightly feminine looking bedroom, with a canopy bed, adorned with light pink lace curtains. It had a very large walk-in closet and a private bath. Most of the furniture in the house looked like antiques, if not, they were very good reproductions. She suggested that I might like to relax for a while, then come downstairs for the interview.

I asked her when her friend would be here; she just replied she was here now. I looked surprised, and then Francine took pity on me, telling me that her friend was her partner, living here with her. I now saw how all of the loose ends were being tied together. I smiled asking if I could meet her now. Francine moved over to the side of the door while a beautiful brunette stepped inside of the door.

She reached out her hand and introduced herself. Her name was Heather, and she was glad to meet me. She suggested that we move over to the couch and get to know each other. I told her all about me and my sister’s request for me to impersonate her. She asked a lot of questions about my experience, and about my business.

I even went online, to pull a couple of my presentations from my website to show her; She seemed to be suitably impressed with my knowledge but wanted to know more about the real me. I asked her what she meant; I am the real me. She giggled, then looked at Francine, both of them exchanging looks between them. Heather asked me to think back to this afternoon at the salon at how I looked when the treatments were done. She wanted to know what I thought of myself.

I told her that I saw a very pretty female, kind of fascinated at how she looks. She told me the keywords were you saw a female standing there, not a male dressed as a female. Francine brought up my plan to get back at my sister; obviously, there is something more there than revenge for her tricking me to dress as a female for at least a year.

Then she mentioned that when I did find out, instead of changing to a more temporary treatment, I went ahead with the semi-permanent results. I was quiet as I thought about what they said. I knew deep down they were right, but would I admit that my actions were more than revenge. After a quiet, eerie silence, Heather reached over and touched my arm to get my attention. My company will be glad to have you in our employ on one condition. I think you know what the condition is, and if you acknowledge and agree to it, I see a long and mutually beneficial relationship between us.

I think you should continue your business on the side, as long as you have the time and desire to do so. The company would have no problem with it. Sleep on it tonight, if you have any more questions you can ask them in the morning. You will find negligees in the top drawer, the bathroom fully stocked, and assorted feminine toys in the nightstand drawer. Her and Francine gave me a hug and a kiss and told me to have sweet dreams.

I found a gorgeous negligee, a peach diaphanous floor-length dream that felt wonderful on my body. I even hung up my clothes after removing them, a task that I seldom did as a male. I remembered to remove my makeup, using a moisturizer on my face before crawling into bed. No sooner than I had settled into the luxurious bed, I was fast asleep. My mind was active all night, but I don’t remember much.

A knock on the door the next morning caused me to wake up. It was Francine telling me that breakfast is ready whenever I was dressed. I made my way to the bathroom and for the first time used a toilet sitting down. It was unusual in a way, but somehow it felt right. I put on a sweat suit that I presumed Francine had laid out for me and went downstairs. I tried to fix my wig a little before heading down, but my skills were seriously lacking in that area.

I was warmly greeted by both women and offered fruit, toast, and tea to drink. Heather asked if I slept well, then smiled when I sighed and told her that I didn’t remember a thing until this morning. As we were eating, she asked if I had discovered any revelations since last night. I tried to play it down, but I think my smile and actions gave the game away.

I told her that I would love to work for her company if they would have me. I thought I would be an asset to them, helping them to grow. She smiled, and gave me a little side glance, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just sat there finishing my toast and fruit. I asked Francine what time she wanted me at the salon, purposely avoiding what they wanted to hear.

She told me my first appointment was at nine, an hour from now. She would take me in, then with hair extensions, nails and makeup lessons I would be occupied the rest of the day. Heather still remained seated at the table, occasionally looking my way. I knew she was dying to hear my decision on the gender I was going to embrace, but she was not going to be the first one to bring it up.

I asked Francine if the clothes from yesterday were alright for today. She said they were fine unless I wanted to go in naked, with only a robe to cover my feminine assets. The clothes I had on would be fine since it was a little chilly outside. Francine giggled, looked at Heather, then me, telling us both that we should grow up. Little girl games do not fit your adult personalities.

I giggled, but turned to Heather, telling her that I intended to present as a female for the foreseeable future. They both wanted to be sure that I had thought it out, not just a rash decision. Heather pushed a contract over to me, stating what her company is willing to offer for my services. I read it over and was pleasantly surprised at the terms of employment.

It was offered to Jean Marie, female version, eighty-five thousand dollars a year, two weeks paid vacation, all travel expenses covered, ten thousand clothing allowance, and an apartment in the company’s corporate complex. The three bedroom, two bath apartment would have to be shared with another marketing employee, however. Heather added it was the corporations thinking that if you were close to work, it would help with last-minute negotiations that involved extra work hours.

By the same token, if work was caught up, you could adjourn to the apartment, for a little R & R. I asked who the other tenant would be, I had been stuck in several disasters as some roommates had been less than desired companions. Francine thought that I would get along with this roommate quite well, almost like sisters. The warning bells were ringing, but since I was stone deaf, I heard nothing.

I told her that there was something still bothering me and that I would give her an answer this evening after my time at the salon. I wanted to think it through a little more, that something was gnawing at me real bad, but evasive to any kind of questions I might have had. After dressing in the clothes from yesterday, I picked up my purse, and Francine and I headed to the salon. The drive was a little longer since traffic is much heavier than usual.

Francine tried to find out what was bothering me, but since I did not know what it was, I couldn’t tell her anything. We arrived at the salon, and Stephanie greeted me at the door. I wonder how her technicians knew when I would be coming in, a mystery for sure. Stephanie grabbed my hand and led me to her station.

Hair extensions were first on the agenda. My wig is taken off, and then my hair is washed and conditioned. She brought up the chair from the reclining position and started combing my hair. After removing all the tangles, she laid out these bundles. The hair in the bundles is quite long, but an almost identical match to my own hair color. Stephanie used a glue gun like instrument to add the extensions to my own hair. According to her, the glue is the secret to the extensions. It bonded to my own hair and the extension, being both waterproof and chemical resistant.

I could get my hair dyed later or even have a permanent, and the extensions would remain securely attached to my head. The process did take forever; it was almost one o’clock when she managed to finish with the additions. She then cut my hair blending the extensions in with my own hair to perfection. I was told it was a layered cut, framing my face and flowing out from the back of my head.

Curlers were next; there seemed to be no end to the amount that Stephanie was able to wrap my hair around. Under a dryer for an hour, Stephanie then checked to see that my hair was dry, then she moved me over to a manicure station. My cuticles were worked on leaving me with ten clean nails. Next, she picked out ten extensions that fitted my own nails perfectly. An application of adhesive was added to both the extension and my own nail, then under a UV light to set the glue. The extensions were very hard, Stephanie telling me that I would not have to worry about them breaking or coming off.

She applied a base coat followed up with three coats of Sunset at the Canyon, a deep red polish. UV light treatment between each coat of polish, then a glossy clear top coat to finish the nails. She informed me that the polish should be good for at least a month without chipping and that a special remover was needed to get it off. I held my hand out with my fingers splayed, admiring the very feminine nails that now adorned my fingers. No chance to be seen as a male with these beauties attached, in fact, I would most likely be seen as an ultra-feminine female, instead of just a female.

At least now I can rule out a career as a maid or domestic servant, with nails extending at least three-quarters of an inch past my fingertips I was not able to do much with my hands now except to wave them around while looking pretty. Stephanie moved me again this time to a vanity with a lighted mirror, the vanity top covered in makeup. I might make an assumption that makeup would be next on the schedule.

A moisturizing cream is applied and heat applied to the treated skin, the cream vanishing into the skin. I brought my hand up to my face rubbing the treated areas; it is now smooth and soft, not anything like it was before.

When we started on the makeup, I wrongly figured that she would be applying the makeup, but instead she handed me some facial cleaner and a towel, telling me the steps that I needed to perform. With my face clean, I applied some concealer to any area that was off color, mainly around the eyes, nose and mouth. Then a foundation is sponged on, leaving my complexion all one color. Doing my eyes was the hardest, any brush or pencil close to my eye caused me to blink, so I ended up jabbing myself several times when applying eye makeup.

Eventually, I managed to get it right, although I ended up doing it over several times. A little rouge on my cheeks and lip liner and lipstick completed the process. I had been watching in the mirror, mesmerized by my appearance. The last few traces of anything masculine slipping away as I applied the makeup. Stephanie showed me a lot that afternoon, about bringing out some of my best features and hiding others with a touch or two of makeup at the right spot.

In the end, a very feminine Jean Marie was all that was reflected in the mirror, no sign of a masculine individual present. I also noted that as my looks became more feminine, my actions seemed to follow; my hand movements were slower and more refined, my arms stayed closer to my body, and my posture is more upright. Gone were the slouched shoulders, replaced by two definitely feminine objects, displayed proudly on my chest for all to see.

Dressed again then told to wait up front for a few minutes, Heather is on her way to take me to the company headquarters to show me around, Then to the apartment so I could see where I will be living. Heather showed me where I will be working, and what will be my primary responsibilities. My roommate will also have the same job, as we will be sharing in the customer’s projects, the company believing that two heads are always better then one when sharing jobs. I had doubts again, hoping that this roommate and I could get along with each other. If not there will countless problems and probably a loss of jobs for both of us.

Then to the apartment, only a few blocks away, easily able to be walked to and from each day. The apartment was gorgeous, the furniture very upscale. The kitchen had all of the latest gadgets, and came fully stocked, We could add later any foods we personally preferred to the food on hand. Back to the living room we chit chatted for awhile. It seems Heather was waiting for someone to show up. There was a key in the door and in walks my sister. She saunters over to the couch and sits right next to me. As she leans over closer she gives me a hug asking if I like the apartment. I give her the eagle eye, but it doesn’t work, it never has but I still try it every chance I get.

It takes me several minutes to put all of this together, realizing I have been played by all concerned. The long lasting treatments, the supposed job interview that couldn’t be missed and well everything. I told my sister I still want the money and definitely want the new wardrobe.

“You will let me borrow a dress from time to time won’t you?” A response I should have expected.

Then I jumped up and ran to the bedrooms picking the one I wanted before she could get off the couch. It was the larger of the three and had the nicer bathroom attached to it. She came over, hugged me tightly and told me she loves me. Now that you are who you should be we can have so much fun.

It started as a favor for Sis, but I think we both benefited from it. Sisters forever.

Story Complete For Now

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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