I was beginning to be concerned about being employed much longer. The signs were there just no words to confirm or deny the trouble the restaurant was in. Before opening each day we had several strangers touring the place, probably someone interested in maybe buying the place. One of the other employees confirmed that an ad had been run in the local paper seeking buyers for the place. Over the years we had steadily lost business, nothing new was tried, the same menu from five years ago was the one we offered now. The place had never been painted, even the chairs and booths were showing signs of aging.
I had worked here for three years, a waiter and part time bartender. I was hired for the waiter position, but after six months I was trained as a bartender. I filled in when someone didn’t make it to work or when we were especially busy. The busy part never occurred anymore, the last few weeks we were less than half full. It was a Friday night and we had closed and finished cleaning up. As we were getting ready to leave the owner came in, getting everybody’s attention. He announced the place was sold, tonight would be the last day of work. He handed us all a letter of reference for future employment, and thanked us for our service. The new owners would be in Monday to interview us for possible employment with them, an application was handed out with an appointment time written on the top.
He gave us each a week’s severance pay, handing out the checks now so that we would not have to come back to get them. He thanked us again and then left. We all stood there shocked and not knowing what to do. As each of us became aware of the fact that we were now unemployed we said our good byes and headed home. I usually took a cab home, the distance not much, about a mile and a half. I instead just walked, I need the time to take all of this in and maybe figure out what I was going to do. We had talked about this happening, the other waitresses especially aware of the failing business, but the reality of it still shocked us. All of our tips had dropped off drastically, a sure sign of trouble ahead.
My mind wandered as I made my way home, whether I could keep the apartment now a prime issue. I had signed a lease on it, back when things were much better. Recently I was having trouble making the rent and keeping something to eat in the refrigerator. The only way I was making ends meet was to eat at the restaurant, our meals free there. After serving the food, and cleaning up it was not the most desirable thing to eat. The smells of it almost sickening.
I had lost a lot of weight recently, a combination of a lot of things. I now regularly skipped breakfast, saving four or five dollars a day. Lunch was just a nutrition bar, and dinner was eaten at the restaurant before I started my evening shift. I had only picked appetizers to eat, the full meals were hard to get enthused about, the smell and looks of them almost more than I could take. That tends to happen when you are exposed to the same items day after day, week after week.
I made it home, unlocked the door and parked my butt on the sofa. I let out a big sigh, a tear or two coming to my eyes. Future prospects were not good, a couple of the serving staff had already been looking for jobs, reporting back that were none to be found at any wage. I eventually fell asleep right there on the couch, not from exhaustion but from worry. The mind overloaded and shut down. My cat licking my face the next morning was my alarm clock. As I followed it to the kitchen, I saw the problem. All of his bowls were empty no food and his water bowl almost empty too. I refilled them all, his chomping down and purring his sign of gratitude. As soon as I showered and dressed I knew his potty box would need attention, better to get to it before he cornered me and demanded the matter be handled.
I slipped off my clothes deciding that a shower was in order. I did feel a little better after the shower, dried myself off and slipped on some sweat pants. I made my way to the kitchen, received my thanks for feeding the cat and looked to see what might be available for me. The pickings were slim, an apple and a piece of toast would have to do. A grocery run would be necessary to make it through the weekend. I decided to buy only staples, not any snack food, the upcoming dry spell of money would seriously affect how I lived.
I looked through the paper for job listings, even the internet for anything in the area. I did find an employment agency that specialized in restaurant help, a possibility for Monday. I remembered the application I had received and looked for when my appointment was scheduled for. It was early Monday, 9 AM in the morning. While my mind was on the subject I filled out the application and attached the reference that the owner had provided.
I cleaned up around the apartment some, wondering if I would be able to still afford to live here. Another tear, uncertainty sure can affect your life, not always for the better. Everything was up in the air, nothing anymore I could count on. A knock on the door, I slipped on a t-shirt and answered it. Marci was a fellow employee that lived up on the next floor of the same apartment building. She hugged me, her tears not being withheld. I held her for some time then we moved to my couch. She managed to compose herself some, wanting to know what I was planning to do.
We talked for several hours, about the job market and our sudden lack of employment. She had already tried the employment agency, their main thing was getting you to sign for professional resumes, if they found a job for you, the fees were outrageous. I asked her if she had heard anything about the new owners, the only thing she had heard was they had visited the restaurant, to evaluate the staff during the last week.
One of her friends that lived closer said they were tearing out the insides of the restaurant right now, everything right down to the bare walls. Apparently they were not going to waste any time getting the place back in use.
So until Monday we would still be in the dark. We did talk about sharing an apartment if things got worse, both of our apartments were two bedroom, so it would be practical. We got along with each other, both kind of quiet and conservative somewhat in what we did. The most important thing was that my cat Bootsie approved of her, soon after she entered he was on her lap enjoying some well-deserved attention.
She suggested we go grocery shopping together, a test run to see if we were roommate compatible. We both got dressed, with me meeting her in her apartment about thirty minutes later. Neither one of us had a car, the bus service was good enough for work, cabs or walking if all else fails. Where I worked the evening shift most of the time she worked the afternoon shift and weekend nights.
We took the bus to the grocery store, a taxi now probably a thing of the past, a luxury we could no longer afford. We each grabbed a cart and started going up and down the aisles, After an aisle or two we soon combined our carts, each picking a few items to replenish our supply. We have the same tastes our items identical except for flavors. I bought lots of fruit, something to munch on to keep from wanting to eat all the time, foods that are not good for me or my budget. I carried our bags for the ride back home offering to put together something for dinner. We had decided on a lot of salads, with small portions of some meat to liven up the salad some.
She took her share upstairs and then came back down and set the table for us. It doesn’t take long to make a salad, just chop up a lot of things and combine. With several dressings and some croutons we settled down at the kitchen bar. I had made some green tea early this morning so that was our drink. We continued to discuss out situation, finally agreeing that until Monday we could not make any other plans. She invited me up to watch a movie on her TV, offering some popcorn and hot chocolate afterward. It was a pleasant evening, at least it passed fairly quickly.
As we parted for the evening, I suggested we go to the open air market tomorrow, shop some and wile away the hours. She liked that, promising to make some sandwiches to eat at the nearby park. Sunday turned out to be another nice day, ending up at her apartment in the evening to watch another movie. We had found some fresh fruit at the market, stocking up with a week’s worth at a much better price than the grocery store.
Since her appointment was at the same time as mine, we rode the bus together to the restaurant. As we walked up to the door we couldn’t believe our eyes, both of us looking to see if we were at the right place. I held the door for her and we entered. The outside had changed some but the inside was like walking into another world. Lots of mirrors, bright colors, all in varying shades of pastel colors. Although it was pink and green, the shades of those colors were bright and cheery.
I expected us to be spilt up, the several people there apparently interviewing new employees. A Ms. Sanders called us both over showing us to seats in front of one of the tables, the new glass and wrought iron tables that were in the dining room now. My head was still swiveling from one side to the other taking in all the new sights. Ms. Sanders went right into interview mode. She briefly looked at our applications, then the letter of reference the previous owner had given us. She crossed referenced it with a report done on us the previous week by their employees.
“I can offer both of you employment with us, however I suggest you listen closely to the terms of employment as they are much different than you have experienced before. Please save your questions until I am done and I will answer each and every one thoroughly. The name of the café is going to be the Turnabout Café. We are targeting a specific customer, typically young and above average in their careers. The place is not cheap, our appetizers are the main stay, although we do offer several entrees also. For the female customer we offer many different salads, specializing in exotic blends of fruit and vegetables. Our drink menu is huge offering a hundred different coffees, teas, imported beers, and mixed drinks.”
“Now for what sets us apart, all of our waiters are going to be female dressed as males, the waitresses males dressed as females. The waitress costumes are brief, sexy and provocative, the waiters conservative but no skin showing except face, hands and feet. Before you object the salaries are more than adequate for such a position. Your uniforms and beauty services are furnished free of charge.”
I looked over at Marci, her eyes already fixated on my face. We both raised our eyebrows, not sure what we thought about this revelation. It was a job, but when she slid over a piece of paper with the salary listed, we both suddenly paid attention to her every word. Ms. Sanders was quiet for a few minutes letting all of this sink in, before she went on. My conscious was saying hell no, the practical part of my mind was saying where do I sign at.
“I see I have your attention. The concept started in Japan with the maid’s cafes. Of course, with every new idea there are variations that pop up. Our CEO had visited one of the cafes in Japan, liked the uniqueness of it, and brought the idea back here. Instead of maids we have people who do the turnabout, the male becoming a female and female becoming a male. In each locale the concept took about a week to catch on, people talking about it between themselves and the word spreading. Recently we have had national write ups, an internet site now operating, and are running TV commercials in each location we have a café or are planning one.
We have five restaurants currently in operation, within five weeks of opening they are booked solid, reservations being taken for weeks down the road. We have made a few changes to the basic idea, now each waitress is paired with a waiter as a husband. As they work the floor, they interact like a couple of lovers stealing a kiss here and there or a sensuous rub, usually to the glee of the customers. Both the waiter and waitress work the same tables alternating taking the orders, delivering the food and making sure the customer is satisfied.”
“Then we have little shows on our stage, brief skits, a song or dance, a couple’s dance, even a comedy routine is allowed. Mainly these feature the waitress, but some allowances are allowed if it is necessary. Since we have started offering these additions to the dining experience our bookings have doubled. I see that Ron here is quite talented, a perfect addition to our staff.”
I blushed red, but could not think of any talent I had that might be featured. Ms. Sanders smiled. “Your impersonations are quite good, we have people to help you prepare an act and offer assistance if needed. For waitresses that perform an act there is an additional bonus and if you are a headliner at one of the restaurants even more bonus. Whether here or at another club, the two of you are a team and always kept together, just like in a marriage. We even go as far as issuing name tags as a married person, the female’s last name is always used, that is the real female’s last name. Now before I go any further do you want to hear more or are you not interested?”
Marci and I looked at each other, puzzlement on both of our faces. I shrugged, Marci nodded and we told her to tell us more. I know for sure my mind had not figured what might be involved in this, still back at the salary we would receive and the bonuses. She took the time to go back through and explain it all again. We were shown pictures of us that were photo shopped in our new looks. Marci took in a deep breath, her hair in the photo very short and masculine. The waiter’s uniform was very sexy, still showing off her female curves, but no bare skin. A white dress shirt, with a bow tie, no makeup other than something that gave the impression of beard shadow. The main difference was the definite male haircut.
My photo as a waitress was a different matter. Long hair, curled and highlighted was just the tip of the changes. My lips in the photo looked plumper, my lashes seemed a mile long then the long pierced earrings hanging almost to my chest made any resemblance to a male an impossibility. Marci was looking at my body in the picture, the amount of bare skin showing was quite comical to her.
At this point Ms. Sanders rejoined the conversation. “All of the female additions in the pictures will be real, not something glued on. That is a reason for the better than average salary. Pretty much your life at your job will have to be 24/7 especially the waitress part. With breasts, big hips, long curly hair, any chance at returning to a male presentation would be slim at best. The 24/7 presentation is required because changing back and forth is expensive and time consuming. The sexy costumes require something other than a glued on prosthetic appliance to appear natural and realistic.”
“Our spies earlier in the week listened to some of your impersonations while you were joking around with some of your fellow employees, with a little help it will make a cute act, probably a headliner once word spreads about you. I know this is a bit much to take in, therefore I am offering you a temporary sneak peek at your new lifestyle. We will change you to your new look, all temporary procedures for 24 hours, then if you agree we can proceed to the more permanent version. Even the permanent version is reversible, but it takes several months for it to happen. Marci, I am afraid that once you get your male buzz cut the only way to reverse it is to let it grow out. Wigs would work, if it wasn’t for the discomfort in working in one, especially in a hot and uncomfortable restaurant.”
“I will give you a few minutes to think it over, then will be back to either sign you up or go to my next interview. Incidentally out of all the employees of your old restaurant only six of you are being offered jobs here. Consider your self privileged.” She got up and walked to another table where several people were filling out applications, she briefly looked them over then sent them on their way. I guess we were lucky to be selected to interview, they seem to be pretty picky.
Marci and I stared at each other for quite some time, finally she broke the silence. Since this is obviously going to affect you more than me, have you any idea whether you want to participate or not. It seems that if only one of us is going to sign on the deal is off. So it is either the both of us or nothing. The only words I could get out of my mouth, is let’s try the 24 hour trial. My voice was straining at the last word escaped my mouth. Talking about being out of my comfort zone, this was that and a whole lot more.
Ms. Sanders returned, asked about our decision. Marci spoke for both of us. “We want to experience the 24 hour trial.”
Dani; A Turnabout Waitress Pt. Two
She handed us a piece of paper, we would be picked up by limo tomorrow morning at seven AM, taken to be transformed, then on to one of their restaurants. Spend the day there and then returned tomorrow night to our apartments. We would be able to experience the whole thing, interact with a few of their existing employees and spend the day in our new personas.
We staggered out of the restaurant, both of us lost in our thoughts. As we got off the bus outside of our apartment Marci made the first comment. “I know what they have suggested scares us, since it so far from what we consider normal, but it might be fun. The money certainly is a draw, if we rent an apartment together and save a lot of what we make we could be in a much better position a year from now. Some of the things that they have told us bother me, the male haircut for one. A female usually takes a lot of pride in her hair, to have that shortened that much would be quite a shock.”
Of the two of us you will be asked to do the most, living as a male and living as a female are so different. The altered picture they have of you is so cute, I would be definitely interested in your other side. Let’s try the trial with an open mind, a day from now we ought to be able to see if it is something we can handle. We talked some more mainly to help relieve the nervousness we both felt about tomorrow. After some sandwiches later we decided to call it a night. We had spent the whole day together, no problems, both of us trying to support the other some emotionally.
We were ready when the limo came to pick us up, a forty minute ride to a salon, appropriately named the Turnabout Gurl Salon we stepped inside and were quickly led to separate rooms. They had a release for me to sign, nothing done today would last past tomorrow morning, easy to be completely removed leaving us as we were when we came in. I signed and was quickly helped in removing my clothes. A cream was spread over my body, both front and back and I was told to stand still. I imagine my body hair was the target, I never had much so the procedure took very little time.
Next laid on a table two huge breast forms were glued to my chest before my groin received a female covering, my male member no longer visible. That quick I was now female. A huge bundle of hair was brought in and carefully placed on my head. The strands of the wig reached to my waist, the volume of it seemed to almost swallow me up.
A corset was next, supporting my breasts and ending right above my new female sex. It was tightened to the extreme, my attempts at taking a breath severally limited. Two silk stockings were attached to the corset, and a pair of heels was slid on to my feet and buckled. I was walked over to a vanity and another tech worked on my makeup, while my new big hair was situated properly on my head. Then several spots of adhesive were added and dried with a hair dryer.
I was dressed in the briefest little outfit I had ever seen, my nipples were covered and my lower female anatomy but barely. See through lace was present when a covering was not needed, all done in a pale pink with black highlights around the erogenous areas of my new anatomy. The tech finished my makeup and I was hurried back out to the limo. I was struggling in the heels, if it wasn’t for my helpers I am sure I would be flat on my face.
I was helped in the limo, then Marci came strolling out. Her outfit hugged all her curves, but other than her face and hands not an inch of her skin showed. The wig she wore made such a big difference in her appearance, not totally male, but no longer a female. There was some male stubble, apparently achieved by some makeup on her face, and her super short hair had been brushed to the side. On further inspection her eyebrows had been added to, changing her look completely. That and no makeup made her look more masculine. Her breasts and hips the only thing saying female.
As she entered the limo I received a toe curling kiss, of which I returned eagerly. The ride to the restaurant we would be at today took an hour, both of us checking out the other to see what was done. I noticed a definite bulge at her groin, pointed to it and she gave me the biggest smile. “Maybe we can practice husband and wife tonight when we get back from our workday.”
I blushed red from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. I guess we were already acting like a married couple. The driver got our door as we arrived, Marci supporting me as we made our way inside. They were already open for business, we were shown to the back and told about the menu, what tables were ours to service and where the orders are turned in and picked up at. A few minutes later we were on the floor, one of their regular waitresses helping us when we looked lost. Otherwise we were left alone, to do our job. The waitress helping us looked like a normal female, although she was very tall like me. I am sure I was five ten with the heels, at least. Since we were busy right away, there was no time to worry about anything, I was prancing along in the heels shortly, like I had been doing it for years.
I was still worried about my presentation and keeping the customers happy, but Marci was being the loving husband, groping me often, kissing me on the lips and being a typical male. I got pinched several times each time I looked over at him he would smile and make kissee faces at me. The customers loved it, asking how long we had been married and if we had any children. I had talked in a more breathy voice, my closest to a normal female voice that I could come up with without some practice.
Then to my horror I was led up to their little stage by a couple of the other waitresses and introduced to the audience. I just stood there, what do I do now. Marci to the rescue asking me to do my impersonation of a parrot. I started off with Polly wants a cracker, then did a little skit where the parrot is talking to its owner. “You buy me the cheap food, then want me to perform for your guests on command. You try sitting on this hard perch all day and then be talkative and the hit of your party. Polly wants something decent like some sunflower seed and now.”
Then I went into an impersonation of Julie Andrews singing Do, Re, Me. When I finished that song Marci whisked me back to our tables and soon we were busy again waiting on our customers. They gave us an hour break for supper sometime in that first day, we were so busy we never got to look at a clock the whole time we were waiting tables. We helped clean up as the last of our customers made their way home, then settled into an empty table to relax and get our breath. A few minutes later Ms. Sanders shows up and asks if we have made up our mind. She has this huge smile on her face, Marci looks at me and nods, I swallow the something that is trying to block my throat and tell her yes we want to work for them.
“Well we are very happy to have you in our employ, you will be a headliner as soon as you are finished with your transformations, your performance tonight quite spectacular with no help or prior preparation. If I can have your bank account numbers tomorrow morning I will have your first checks deposited by noon, plus a little extra for your new clothing. The salon will furnish most of your clothing, but there are some things they do not offer.
We rode the limo back to our apartments, saying very little, both of us lost in what happened today. I guess for Marci it would not be much for her to make the transition. The haircut the main thing, although it was apparent she was wearing something to simulate a male’s organ. Her breasts showed some, the uniform covering every part of her body except for her face and hands. I remembered at the old place of work she had long beautiful nails, now her nails were short and stubby. No makeup at all, a sudden change for Marci. In all our time together at the old restaurant, I had never seen her without makeup.
I was the exact opposite, what she lost I gained and in spades. By the end of the day I had grown used to the additions, my breasts the hardest to assimilate. They had just tucked junior back between my legs and added the fake vagina. As the day wore on the emptiness down there became more apparent. Even just walking emphasized the lack of anything between my legs.
We hugged, planning to go to our individual apartments. I was the first one to speak up. “Marci would you like to spend the night here with me? No funny business, I just need someone to talk to and be with.”
“I hoped you would ask, I was not sure how to bring it up. It is a great opportunity, but it also scares me some. I know you will have it worse, but know that both of us will face a lot of changes in the next few days.”
I took her hand and led her into my apartment. We were beat, probably more mentally than physically, but none the less we were ready for some sleep. I helped her undress and she helped me. We both stood and looked at the uniforms we had on today, both quite normal if we had exchanged the outfits. I found us two large t-shirts and we took turns showering then slipped on the t-shirt and into the bed. I got a tender kiss from Marci and I eased up behind her and took her in my arms. I held her tightly like that and soon we were both asleep.
Marci was up first, did the bathroom thing then headed to the kitchen to start coffee. I found a set of old sweats to wear, both of us told to dress comfortably for today, the day of our permanent additions. I tried not to think about it, but it was hard to keep the thoughts away. I made us some oatmeal so that we would have something in our stomach when we arrived at the salon. We had just finished when the limo appeared to whisk us off to our new lives.
Marci and I chatted on the ride to the salon, neither of us knowing quite what to say. It was just nervous chatter, both of us trying hard to not focus on what is going to happen to us. We were both surprised when we were met at the salon by Ms. Sanders. She escorted us to an office in the back where we were introduced to Dallas, the CEO of Turnabout Gurl Salons. Taking seats in front of her desk we were shown a list of what will be done to us today. Next to the item was a description of what that entailed. Marci’s list had four items a male haircut, semi-permanent false beard shadow, additions to the eyebrows and a working penis glued in place.
When Marci got to that last item she was laughing hard. Dallas explained to me since I had the deer in the headlights look that she would be able to pee standing up and also penetrate a women’s sex. I pushed my chair back from where Marci was sitting, her giggling away. She reached over to touch my hand, don’t worry honey I will be gentle. Right there I almost lost it, Ms. Sander’s explanation the only thing keeping me in the office.
They opted for the more realistic male organ, the waiters using the male rest rooms were quite a draw, also they found that the spouse in the couple reactions were more realistic knowing that they could have sex as a couple and not just play act. In everything they did they tried for the maximum realism, so far it has meant many extra dollars in their pockets. I was stunned as she told me not to worry, none of their male waitresses have become pregnant yet. I hope she was kidding, but that statement was delivered straight and with no humor intended.
We then focused on my list, two whole pages of additions to my body. I read every one of them with Marci looking over my shoulder as I did so. They all seemed necessary for the impersonation from what we were told. I looked at Marci, she was holding the pen to sign but waiting for me to join in or call a halt to all of this. I took a big breath then took my pen and signed on the bottom line. Marci did the same and we were committed. Ms. Sanders made copies for us, and Dallas before she gave us each a hug and went back to the restaurant.
Before they separated us Marci was told her transformation would only take two hours, as soon as they were done with her some of the company’s employees would go with her to update our living quarters, we had already told Ms. Sanders that we were going to live together in my apartment, since it had the most time remaining on the lease. This had been mentioned to us, I just didn’t think it would be today. Again the realism, was the reason for helping set up a shared residence for us. It was not required, but neither Marci nor I could see any reason not to participate. No cost on our part kind of sealed the deal.
Marci would be back today late in the limo to pick me up since I would not be finished until 10 P.M. I got a wave as she was led away and I was stripped of my clothes and laid on a treatment table. Gawd, they could at least give me a few minutes to get my mind straight, but no full speed ahead. I closed my eyes, if I can’t see it, it must not be happening. Then a hot substance on my eyebrows, followed by a cloth over my eyes and pushed into the hot substance. Then my eyes shot open as the cloth was removed and my eyebrows with it. I started to move my hands up to soothe the area where my eyebrows had been just a few minutes ago. The technician held my hand for a minute, then laid it back by my side. I gathered that I was not to touch them just yet. The searing pain again two minutes later was why. Now both of my eyebrows were missing, from the level of pain maybe some skin with them.
My hands were pulled forward so they were in front of me on the table, the fingernails on the top. Two people started filing my nails, then adding something around the edges. After that set, a stick was used to clean around the edges. I felt a cool liquid being applied to my nails, then something hard laid on top and pushed down. I had a sneaky suspicion I now possessed long fingernails. More liquid followed and warm heat in between, drying the liquid. After they had finished, I got a glimpse of my hands. Long extensions extended past my fingertips by three quarters of an inch, but the bright red color on each nail was the biggest difference. They shined brightly, the glossy finish making them sparkle.
Next to be taken care of was my female anatomy. Mainly realistic breasts and an almost authentic vagina, a vulva if you are trying to be politically correct. Cups were glued to my chest, then hoses attached and a pump turned on. Some of my tissue was immediately sucked into the cup, the start of breasts for me. I realized where the word permanent applied, breasts formed this way would not just go away overnight.
A quick spray of my groin and I lost all sense of feeling. I caught glimpses as the tech glued my organ back between my legs, then a very authentic looking vulva was glued above it. To make sure everything worked properly the tech eased a finger into my new slit, my sudden intake of breath announcing to the world that it was indeed functioning. Like a modern day female my slit was hair free. I felt different, I had a male appendage that I inserted into a female’s sex, now that was reversed, not a comfortable thought for my new persona. A slit designed to hold a male’s sex organ, now I am the one desired and sought after. I was indeed a former male, since there was nothing left that resembled the male body whatsoever. I do hope Marci can control her actions, this does put a different spin on our relationship.
During the time my breasts were being pulled from my body my ears got pierced, my nails got long extensions and several coats of a pale pink polish, and then they turned their attention to my hair, or lack of more appropriately. I had worn my hair in a ponytail and it was about shoulder length. It was deemed necessary to have it longer, to make me sexier. That was to be accomplished by adding extensions to my hair. The ones brought out for them to work with were over three feet long. It took them several hours to weave them into my hair, as I was advised they will stay there until the hair they were attached to fall outs on its own. The biggest difference was the weight, that much hair and that long added considerable weight to my hair. I knew it would take me some time to get used to the longer hair, and then I have to learn how to take care of it.
It became obvious my life would change drastically, not only dressing as a female now but living as one. So much more to do just to be ready to go out in public. I think Marci is getting the better deal in this scenario. I would still have a job doing this, but at a considerable cost to me. I hope it works out like we had envisioned, otherwise life will become rather difficult.
They strapped me into a corset and tightened it to the max. I was told the corset stays on until my body adjusts, approximately three weeks. It can be removed to shower but that is the only time I would be without it. My ears are pierced next the three holes added to each ear and their earrings fitted into the holes made such a difference. For the trial transformation I had clip-ons to wear, several hours of wearing them and my lobes were numb and very sore. The holes for my new earrings were lasered in, no need to clean my ears or twist the earrings as the holes were permanent. I received a stud, a small hoop and a long dangly earring that brushed against my neck, quite attractive and hard to ignore.
I was given some makeup lessons mainly for daytime use, they usually had a tech from the salon do the waitresses makeup each day at the start of their shift. After numerous applications I was finally approved, my skills okay to get me through most situations.
Next was lessons in taking care of my hair. I was given long lasting curls, my hair to be worn loose most of the time, a couple of barrettes to keep the longer tendrils out of my face. The key to the hair care was for me to brush my hair daily at least a hundred strokes, sounds easy but my first attempts in the salon had my arms aching hardly able to get them over my head. I did get a cute set of bangs, longish to be brushed over my eyebrows and to the side. It was later in the day when I finally got used to the weight of my hair. I set down once catching a few strands between me and the chair, promptly having to get up and move my hair out of the way. Then I was taught how to braid it at night, a necessity to keep the amount of tangles the next morning manageable. Like I said Marci came out way ahead in the deal.
When the pump sucking my breasts out of my body cut off, a glance at the forms revealed two cups that were full to the brim. I received a shot right through the hose connection into my nipple, according to the tech to make the newly formed breasts more realistic. From my vantage point they were already realistic enough, the surprising weight of them pulling down on my chest.
A corset was then eased over my body, hooked in front, then the laces were snugged up from behind. I needed to lose about three inched in the waist, the corset would easily handle that plus an inch or two more. After thirty minutes the laces were tightened again, the corset feeling like it was cutting me in two. I pleaded for a little relief, the tech just smiled and tied off the laces behind my back where I couldn’t reach them to loosen the corset. I was told beauty has its price and I was already signed up for the whole package.
We had been told earlier that we would work five ten hour days from noon to ten, the last hour used to clean up and set-up for the next day’s business. Monday thru Friday was the busiest times, Saturday mainly for the dinner crowd, Sundays we were closed. Marci and I would have off a day during the week rotating each week so we can do our errands and anything personal that needed handling.
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© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker