The school was nice, a multitude of two story brick buildings situated in a pristine landscape. Situated among ninety acres of gardens, it was truly a beautiful setting for a college. This was my first year here, having just transferred to the college. My mother had to take another job with the company she worked for, so we ended up here, just outside a lazy southern town in Georgia. We lived comfortably but most of the time had no extra money for things. I transferred here since the company offered to pay my tuition this year, my senior year. It was part of the deal for Mom, to ease the impact of the move and uprooting of our lives.
I didn’t have a lot of friends back home, so that part, I did not miss. I did miss some of the courses I wanted to take, those same courses, not offered here. Mom found a house to rent, a stately southern mansion for an unbelievable low price. Way bigger than we needed, it was such a bargain that she couldn’t pass it up. It was fairly close to the university, and only five blocks from her work.
I had contacted the school earlier from our old home, asking about courses, but had yet to register here. That was going to be my task today, register, get my class assignments and buy my books. I wore some comfortable clothes, a nice warm sweater and a pair of Dockers. In truth, I almost lived in Dockers, owning seven pair in assorted colors, mostly tan and brown. Oh yes, one green pair, a forest green to be exact. During the winter, a sweater was my choice, short sleeve, long sleeve, even a couple of sweater vests that I wear over a dress shirt. In the summer, polo shirts were my downfall, way too many of them in almost every color imaginable.
I made my way to the school offices, entered and asked to register. I received a stack of papers to fill out, and shown to a quiet place to sit and fill them out. Most of it dealt with my previous schooling, I made the proper responses and attached my transcript from my former school. In several places, there was mention of the Tiffany program. No explanation given, but it hinted at paying part of my school’s expenses if I joined the program. When I returned the filled out paperwork, I asked about it.
I was given another stack of papers to read explaining the program and its purpose. It was started by a benefactor of the school four years ago. Only males were eligible, as long as you are in the program, all school expenses are covered. By now I was hooked, this would save Mom a lot of money, and I could maybe take some extra courses, above the amount the regular tuition covered. I went back and sat down, anxious to read about the program.
Several paragraphs into the explanation of the program, I laid the paperwork down. The Tiffany program was set up to teach about gender differences, aimed at young males to make them more aware of how females feel and act. Total immersion is the correct buzzwords to describe the program. The purpose was to educate the male about the female gender, especially with regard to rape and pregnancy. I could see the need for it, a lot of my high school male friends thought the only use for a female was sex. In my earlier college studies, that group toned down some, but there were still plenty of jerks out there that thought the same way.
I also felt that it is not for me. I could sure use the benefits, that is a given, but to embrace total femininity was maybe too much. Although I admired the principle of the program, it made me feel a little uncomfortable. In high school, I had experienced some bullying, soon learning anything that drew attention to me, was something to avoid. I imagined living as a female would draw that attention to me in spades, especially if it became obvious I was a male underneath.
I took the paperwork about the program with me, deciding that I need to think it through very carefully before I made any decisions. Living my life as a female had never entered my mind before, but all the expenses of my schooling paid for did make it attractive. I hadn’t bought books yet, but in my old college, they usually ran in excess of five hundred dollars. Then, you have lab fees, meals on the campus, it all adds up quickly. The extra courses I wanted to take would run me an additional five thousand dollars, not a bad deal if the program picked up all of this expense. It was expensive to take the extra courses, even though I was getting fifteen more credit hours towards graduation. At the end of my senior year, if I kept taking the extra courses, I would have most of the basic requirements for my master’s degree already handled.
That would be a saving of over fifteen thousand dollars. Mom’s company was only picking up my senior year’s tuition, not any more. I decided I needed to talk to Mom about this, maybe she would not want a daughter for a year, or at least someone looking like her daughter. That was another question, would I look ridiculous living as a female, I was not the he man type, but still looked like a regular male when out and about.
I made my way home, laid everything on the kitchen table for later, and then went to lay down for a bit. Heavy use of my mind often makes me sleepy; I guess overworking it. No sooner than my head hit the pillow, I was lost to the world.
I smelled food, Mom must be home. At her new job, she gets off at four, but has to start at seven in the morning. As I entered the kitchen, I automatically went to the cupboards to get out dishes and silverware for dinner. I noticed Mom keeping an eye on me, then noticed, the papers I left on the table had been moved. I decided to not bring it up, maybe she will make a comment later, saving me from broaching the subject.
How would I do that anyway, Mom, I want to live as a female this semester, is that alright with you? I doubt that would fly, although there might be a few chuckles involved. Dinner was great, I volunteered to do the dishes, once she checked to see if I was running a fever, she left me to my task.
She hadn’t said anything, I presume she is going to make me bring it up in conversation. I found the papers in a corner stacked neatly, I am sure she at least scanned them to see what they were about. I took the info and made my way to the den where Mom was watching the TV. Maybe it would be better if I read through them carefully, to see exactly what the program involved.
According to the info, I would need to live as a female both in school and at home for the entire time. If I did that, the program would pick up any and all school expenses. I would receive beauty treatments to make me look like any other coed, and a wardrobe sufficient for one. If I dropped out of the program, dressing again as a male, any school expenses would become my responsibility. It would, however, cover my master’s degree if I wanted to pursue it after graduating.
No other requirements, except for taking some female courses, two classes each semester. Home economics, female studies, and dancing examples of the courses for me to choose from. It sounded good in a way, but living as a female 24/7 does scare me quite a bit. I kept thinking of getting my Masters’ degree with no additional expense, a feat that would be quite welcome.
Mom turned to me a little later, asking me if I have decided yet. I looked up at her, expecting her to say more, but that was her only words. I asked her what she would do. “No fair, I am not the one having to live as a female, so it is not my question to answer.” I was starting to get a headache, way too much brain activity. Finally, Mom made a suggestion, “There is a place in the instructions where you can go to get a temporary transformation, to see if you can handle the changes. Why don’t you try it out for a few days, then make your decision?” Apparently she did read the material before she neatly stacked it in the corner. I don’t think I had read that part yet, maybe I had, not remembering it more a case of selective memory.
I agreed with her, in that it sounded like a good way to see what it was like. I told her the program would save a lot of money for her and her company.
“Well, to make your decision even harder, if you join the program, the amount of money they would spend on your tuition would be given to us in a check as soon as you join the program. If that happens, I will use that money for a car for you after you complete six months of the program. Now you have something more to think about, so get to bed and maybe your Mom will be able to see her new daughter tomorrow when I get home from work.”
“I love you either way, this has to be your decision and yours alone. It should be well thought out, not something you do impulsively. So get as much info as you can, then sit down, and carefully think it through. Living as a female is miles apart from that of a male, everything is different, with lots of consequences if the wrong things are selected.”
I still had a week before classes started, so early the next morning, I called the salon offering temporary transformations, to see about an appointment. They suggested I come in, so they could do a scan of me, then, with their software, I could be shown what I would look like as a female. I am sure I would look like a guy in a dress, but maybe seeing what I would look like, would make the decision easier. The appointment for the scan was for noon, since it was now after ten, I decided to head off in that direction.
I parked in front of the salon, I had persuaded Mom to let me borrow her car. I still had thirty minutes, so I went into their clothing store next door and looked through the items they offered. I tried to picture me in some of the outfits, giggling at the image that appeared in my mind. But what worried me the most, was the giggle that found its way out of my body just now. Me giggling, maybe it is already too late for any of this. Just thinking about all of this, has caused me to do things in a most feminine way. I have not known any of my male friends that giggle at any time in their life.
Believe it or not, I found a couple of dresses that I might want to try on. That worried me even more. As the time approached, I went next door, Jenny my consultant, took me back to one of their private rooms and had me undress. She stood there waiting for me to give up the clothes, then, decided to help when I didn’t start quick enough. Way too quickly, I was standing there in my birthday suit, while she was still fully dressed.
She moved me in front of the machine and the laser guide moved over my body, from my toes to the top of my head. On the monitor in the room, my image appeared on the screen. She pushed some keys and each treatment change appeared on the screen. There were thirty different treatments possible, one by one the effects of the treatment appeared on my image, the end result was a gorgeous young female coed.
I had mentioned earlier that this was something I wanted to see about, since I was thinking of joining the Tiffany program. I got a big smile, the owner of the salon was the one to start the program, it had been quite a success, many lives changed because of it. She reminded me that all expenses of the transformation would be picked up, even the dresses that I had drooled over next door, along with a complete wardrobe to go with it. I blushed at the mention of the dresses, I thought I was being discreet, but apparently not discreet enough.
“If you are still having doubts, let us transform you temporarily to the female gender, you can try it out, then come back tomorrow, and we can make the changes more lasting. Nothing is permanent, but a few of the treatments take a couple of months for all things to return to the way they were.”
I agreed, my curiosity was getting the best of me. Will I look as good as the image on the monitor, or is it enhanced, to just make me look that good, the real thing not quite as spectacular. She started right away, my body hair the first causality. It took her about an hour to do away with it, the smooth super sensitive skin, left in its place, causing me all kinds of grief. Then breast forms were glued on my chest, they seemed too large, but I was assured they were appropriate for my body size.
Next in a dentist like chair, my feet were spread wide and she glued a covering over my male equipment. The slit framed by two puffy lips was way too realistic, making me want to run my finger over the soft flesh. I briefly wondered about the covering over my male organ, surely it would not be necessary for a one day transformation to see if I could handle the female gender. I think she was a mind reader since she commented that for me to get in the right frame of mind I had to look the part, not just add a dress and I was done.
Then she worked on my hair, the length not quite adequate for a female, but with a curling iron, she gave me a respectable feminine style. If I came back, they would use extensions to give me a more feminine hairstyle. I think she knew I would be back, I was already glued to the mirror watching my transformation with bated breath.
Makeup followed, as did getting my ears pierced. I didn’t object, just letting it happen like it was an everyday occurrence. The studs and hoops were quite pretty, bringing attention to my ears. That with the hairstyle made me look very coedish, if that is even a word.
A bra and panty set, followed by a garter belt holding some sheer hose were stepped into, then one of my dresses that I had drooled over, was brought into the room. Was somebody watching my actions in the clothing boutique, the dress I liked the most was what was offered to me to slip into? First, I had to step into a pair of heels, then into the dress. It was raised up to my shoulders and the back zipper was done up. It conformed to my new figure, the full skirt seemed to want to be shown off. I resisted twirling around, letting the skirt flare away from me. Believe me, it was so hard, the temptation to see the skirt flare out quite strong.
I was looking in the mirror and at the monitor with my projected image on it. They were similar, both very feminine. I was allowed a chance to walk around some, getting comfortable in the heels. I stumbled a couple of times, but found taking shorter steps made it a lot easier. A crash course in basic feminine deportment was next, keeping modest was a new experience to master, mustn’t let anyone get a look at my panties.
I had no idea that clothes for the female could so easily brainwash me to the extent that I am eager to experience even more. At the moment, I doubt you could pry me loose from the Tiffany program; I know it was set up for different reasons to make males more aware of what it is like for a female, especially when it comes to sex. A female sees sex as so much more, the love that she expects comes first, but then she has to be aware of getting pregnant and is the partner one she truly loves?
In the past, many of male friends just see it as just a way to achieve orgasm, nothing more. The next day they move on to someone else. I got a hug from Jenny and an appointment for tomorrow. If I survived the night, they could start me on the more permanent changes. If the program was not for me they could return me to the male mode. I noticed Jenny gave me a four hour time slot for tomorrow, she was sure I would be an enthusiastic entrant in the program after tonight.
I made my way home, now I would have to figure how to tell my mother she has a daughter now, her no good for nothing son missing and presumed lost to the world. I still had some time before I had to go pick up Mom, she had got a ride with one of her fellow workers this morning, but since they didn’t work the same schedule I would have to pick her up at quitting time. I stayed busy at the house, doing some laundry for Mom, then vacuumed the downstairs rooms for something to do.
It was time to go and pickup Mom, a check of my makeup and freshening my lipstick was accomplished, then I made my way to the car. I removed the keys from my purse, then headed off to pick her up. I made good time so I arrived earlier than necessary. I decided to go in and say hello to her, maybe she will not recognize her new daughter. I had been to her office once when she first started here, so I was familiar where it was. I knocked on her partially open door, then peeked around the door.
Well, Mom was out of her chair and had me in a death grip within seconds. She was obviously pleased at my new look, then started dragging me to some of the other offices introducing her daughter to her work colleagues. I realized I had been assimilated into the female gender already, my own Mother performing the deed. I imagine after being in the program for a while, the male me would be gone forever.
I was still getting used to some of the changes, the breasts in particular were always in my way, an arm brushing against them whenever I tried to do anything. The makeup was okay, however every mirror I passed I had to pause and look at my image. The dress was comfortable, a little drafty but otherwise easy to get used to. I won’t mention the underwear, I was very aware I was wearing such feminine garments but tried to not let it bother me. I was amazed at how easy I had taken to the changes, a normal male transforming into a female would be yelling and screaming by now. Instead I just looked at my new image and went about my business. Well I tried to, but too many distractions and feelings were playing havoc with my efforts.
Story Incomplete At Present
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker