Hair Restorer Extraordinaire free porn video

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or to any story in this genre is purely coincidental. No animals were harmed in the formulation of this story. If you love it, tell me. If you hate it, tell me. Authors need feedback. Hair Restorer Extraordinaire By Rachel Ann Cooper (c) 2001 20 years old with thinning hair. Not that I should be surprised. My dad was almost slick bald by his mid twenties and mom had what she called baby fine hair. My crown was beginning to revert to peach fuzz and I was about to panic. I suppose there were some positive aspects to the situation. Still living at home and going to a local college that just happened to be one of the big 10 was good and having a girl friend who was becoming a chemical engineer may have been another break. Only time would tell. "Owen, it's not the end of the world honey", said my girl Ellen. "Well, it's nice that you won't hold it against me, but I've always enjoyed a nice, full head of hair. It will be the end of the world, as I know it. I like to wear it full even when it's only to my collar and not with a bald spot in the back. I mean, I really DO enjoy having a lot of hair and never even considered another possible future. I'm probably only growing it longer to compensate, you know?" "We may be able to do something about this," she replied. "Like what? Got some great hair genes in your purse," I quipped sarcastically? "Not exactly. But Dr. Joyce Montero has been working on this problem for about six years so they tell me. I heard she's developed some sort of mutant proteins and amino acids with some kind of scalp treatment machine too, although she's not ready to publish. I've no idea what it does exactly. Why not go talk to her and see if there is anything she can do, any advancements that may have been made in getting those follicles back on track. What about Rogaine?" "I've already tried that Ellen. It's not going to work for me. It doesn't work for everybody. I'd about rather be anything except bald. Even a Bald Eagle has feathers. Guess I'll go talk with her. What building is she in?" "Edison Hall. Room 220." "Okay. Thanks. So, are we on for a movie tonight?" "Sure. You can pick me up at seven at the sorority house. Whoops! Have to get to calculus. See you later Owen." So, I looked up Dr. Montero in the directory and called. Her teaching assistant told me I could meet with her tomorrow at 11:00 AM, which suited me fine as I had the morning off. So, the following morning, after a leisurely shower and breakfast, I trundled off. The upside of the meeting was that Joyce Montero PhD, a woman in her mid 30's, was very attractive and fun to talk with. The downside was her explanation of what she was doing and why. "Mr. Davis, I can see you have a problem and why Ellen sent you to me. She is concerned for you. However, what she perhaps does not know and I've made no effort to make public is that my efforts in this area have been on behalf of the large number of WOMEN who begin losing their hair in mid-life, some earlier. That is not to say that my treatment would not work for you nor that I am refusing to administer it." "Well then doctor, just what ARE you saying? According to the pictures of previous successes you've shown me, you certainly can help me. I am rather desperate to keep my hair. What else can I do?" "Unfortunately, nothing that I know of at the moment. You seem to have a predisposition toward baldness. There have been minor successes in other approaches but this system works and I am working on the paper which should be out early next year." "So, will you treat me as one of your test subjects?" "Owen, you should know in whom you are placing your trust. My undergrad work was in chemistry. My doctoral studies were in psychology and endocrinology. Mostly, I work with plants; make them more productive to feed more people. Some I just make sick so I can cure them. This is just a little passion of mine, this hair thing, but it follows many of the same principles I use on plants. The most notable exception is that you have a brain." "I don't understand Doctor." "We will be altering the cellular structure of your hair follicles and perhaps the cells in close proximity to them. There has never been any actual damage per se, but I cannot guarantee what will happen except for the hair itself. There may be some risk, especially to a male." "Stepping off my front curb is a risk I take everyday Doctor. Surely the rewards will outweigh them, whatever they are. Like I said to Ellie, I'd rather be anything than bald." "For your sake I hope you mean that. How old are you Owen?" "Twenty." "All right Owen but only with your parent's consent and signature. I've never tried this on a male before and will not be held responsible, although this will make an interesting addendum to my paper. Understood?" "Yes ma'am. I'll take these home after school today and get their signatures." "Alright Owen. We'll proceed in two days, same time, same place. I have compounds to make as well as some machine adjustments if it's possible. See you then." Later in the tuck shop: "So, what did she say Owen?" "She gave me these papers for my parents to sign and she's going to help me. Great huh?" "Definitely 'O.D.' I can't wait to see that mop of yours in full bloom again and you smiling." "Me neither. We're starting day after tomorrow, the first of October. Maybe my hair will be so thick that I won't have to wear a ski cap this winter after all." *** I bounded up the stairs to Dr. Montero's lab in the Edison building that fateful morning with a song in my heart. My 3.4 GPA was in good shape and soon my hair would be too although she had not mentioned how long it would take as yet. Opening the door, I saw her seated behind her desk going over some papers. She looked up and greeted me. "Good morning Mr. Davis." "Good morning Doctor. You can call me O.D. if you like. It usually ends up sounding like ODIE like the comic strip but that's okay. Owen sounds so formal." "Whatever you say. May I have those papers? Good. I'll file them later. Meanwhile, here are three bottles of capsules for you to take internally. There's a hundred in each bottle. I want you to take two of each capsule to start and then follow the dosing directions on the labels. They are very powerful and fast acting. Here's a glass of water." "Good. Now please have a seat in this 'barber's chair' as I call it. It's both for treatments and for microscopic inspection of the follicles. First, I need to take a picture of you and the bald spot." *I wonder why she needs a picture of ME?* "Fine. Now we lower the helmet. This will cover your head from the temple to the nape excluding the ears. The next thing you will feel will be a slight dampness and a tingle. And, before you say it, yes, I know it looks a lot like a football helmet but that is only the OUTside. It's significantly more complicated and is really quite sophisticated. I'd like to take the tingle to the point where it becomes a bit uncomfortable if you don't mind. Please tell me when we're there. Then we will back off and let it work for about a minute for the first treatment. We'll work up to longer treatments in a week or so. Here we go." "That's a little intense doctor." "Fine, we'll back off. Better?" "Yes." "Then here we go again." "Alright O.D. that's all for today. Take the capsules every day as noted on the bottles and see me Monday, Wednesday and Friday here at 11. In just a few weeks, perhaps less, we should see some significant changes." "I can't wait doctor. I sure don't want to look like an old man before my time." "I seriously doubt that you will O.D." I met Ellen on the quad afterwards and she asked, "Well, how did it go?" "Fine, I think. She made up some capsules for me and has this weird machine she uses on your scalp but if it works, who cares? It feels pretty strange though. Come to think of it, my whole body feels strange. She said we'd see some results in a few weeks, maybe less." Well, it didn't take that long. The first result was that about an hour later, I had to hurl breakfast AND lunch but then I felt fine. The next day when I took a dose of the capsules I felt queasy and got a slight headache but kept my lunch and it went away. Other than that, the only thing I noticed after the first treatment was that colors seemed different, a bit more vivid. After my second stint in the chair, I felt just fine and appeared to be in exceptional spirits, lighter in mood and body when I went to my next class even though the professor didn't seem to appreciate my good humor. My Mom did later though. I had been a bit morose lately over my hair but was happy that I was in a hopeful mode now. It felt as though my scalp was still tingling from the second treatment. Ellen and I had a date Saturday night, just dinner and a movie. She liked to dress nicely and showed up in a sheath and heels, which meant I was only an inch taller than she. High heels sure make the most of her legs though. I don't believe I'd ever noticed how pretty her feet were in pumps. *Why am I looking at her shoes?* We had fun as usual and I delivered her to the house about midnight. We sat outside and talked for a bit and for some reason, I felt a bit giggly. We kissed good night and she went in. The next couple treatments went very smoothly, or so I thought. Some side effects did begin to appear though. I had no idea how much of a roll the capsules had in these. With each successive treatment, not only did my scalp tingle, but my whole body did, and for some time afterwards and for increasing durations. Also, my skin seemed to be softer, smoother, more refined, but that may have just been my imagination or the Dove soap I felt compelled to use. What was certain though was that I felt 'different'. And this will probably sound silly but it felt like 'walls' were being demolished in my brain and it was becoming difficult to formulate some thoughts while others were popping up unannounced. Some of them were quite foreign to a male but somehow; my comfort level with them was growing. My 'old' hair was growing like dandelions and so were my nails. The hair seemed to be growing a year for every time I was in the chair. Every couple days I had to file my nails too but oddly, I no longer wanted them so short and stubby. I was more interested than ever in my hair and now, oddly, my nails. I was having some really strange compulsions and, I'm afraid I succumbed much too easily. Nails should be long and pretty. As I said, these thoughts were now within the parameters of my comfort level, long, strong, pretty nails. My file kept finding the edges until the nails took on a more oval appearance and were now a 1/4 inch beyond my finger tips. Another 1/8 of an inch would be perfect. Idly watching 'Charmed' on Thursday night, I reached for my Mom's nail hardener and applied two coats. *Not bad.* I thought as I spread my fingers to admire my work. My hands now looked terribly feminine and yet, I liked their daintier appearance. I didn't understand why I did this but certainly admired the result. I expected my parents to say something but it didn't happen. Before retiring, I rubbed hand lotion into them. Ellen remarked on them Friday though. "Nice nails O.D." Taking my hands in hers she said, "Wow, so soft and pretty. Have you been using your moms' lotion?" "I- - -yes, I suppose I have. Thank you, Ellen. I like the shine on my nails too. Glad you like the results." I caught myself in a hair flip. *For heaven's sake. Why did I do that?* That was only the first one of the day. There were more. It was becoming a habit. *Well*, I reasoned, *it IS falling in my eyes.* By my fifth visit to the doctor, we could see that not only had the pattern of recession ceased but new peach fuzz was coming in and, oddly enough, in some places where visible hair had never grown before. It was hard for me to tell how much and frankly, I was feeling even more peculiar though elated. It appeared that I was spending considerably more time in the chair now and always dozing off to awake very refreshed and feeling wonderful. My nails now looked just like Ellens', long and pretty and my hands- - -were moving more gracefully like the polish was still wet ALL the time. That was one of the compulsions, to use my hands more expressively. I just knew it made me look sort of girlish, but I couldn't dredge up a reason to care about it. The doctor took another picture of me with her camera. Her other camera, the microscope, could flash the pictures of my scalp to the television screen up on the wall and she could capture the images which she showed me. My hair pattern was changing, becoming more like my mother's as opposed to my father's, which I saw as a GOOD thing for the long run. Funny, when I looked in the mirror on the way out of her office it seemed- - - *No, that couldn't be. It must the hair length that's making my face look softer.* I was almost giddy with excitement and I'm afraid I did giggle like a schoolgirl when I saw my new hair coming in so well. Of course, all of it was becoming fuller and longer at the same time, a plus. *Was that MY voice in such a high-pitched giggle? Why did I want my hair so much longer? I believe it might look cute down to my shoulder blades. Oh well! Nothing to worry about. It can always be cut and styled. Styled?* Since I had gotten used to the medication and the electrical stimulation or whatever it was, she had raised it a few millivolts and for a longer duration. Apparently it was long enough for me to nod off every time. I was dozing off now practically as soon as the helmet was lowered. For some reason, I was feeling very upbeat lately and apparently, more observant as well. My grades began to improve slightly and I had begun to take more of an interest in what Ellen was wearing, her hairstyles and so forth. She enjoyed the compliments. Something about me was 'off' however. As proof, I was now applying a new coat of hardener on my nails every day and they got buffed between coats while I was curled up on the couch. *When did I begin curling up like a girl?* They gleamed like jewels and I was very pleased but they were becoming so LONG and my hair so THICK. Surely I shouldn't be enjoying this. But I was! Was not a thick mane of curls a girls' domain? Well, so what? I was enjoying it immensely! My hands looked so girlish and moved like- - -well, swishy is the only word I can think of. I noticed Mom look at me a little strangely but when I caught her, she just smiled sweetly and looked away. It wasn't just my hands that were moving differently either. I seemed to be holding my upper body quieter and walking from my hips. And my arms- - -they swung differently, if at all. I do believe they were swinging just from the elbows! Were my wrists loosening up? For that matter, I had taken more of an interest in what ALL girls were wearing, doing, buying, saying. Could it be the magazines that I was idly reading in the outer office while waiting to see Dr. Montero? How else would I come by knowing the difference between a D'Orsay or a 'T' strap or an opera pump or a tank dress and a sheath? Strange. But why was I also devouring my Mom's magazines at home and what on earth possessed me to comment on the new ruffled hemlines, which I thought were terribly feminine and sexy? These tidbits were being cataloged and stored on my 'hard drive' for instant access in the real world but WHY? I just loved what those new water bras did for a bust line. And what possessed me to even discuss this with my MOTHER while filing my nails and adding two more coats of my new tinted hardener to my claws on Saturday night? It gave them a lovely pink glow. "I didn't know you were interested in ladies fashion Owen bit I must say your hands look lovely!" "I didn't know I was either Mom but some of it is really pretty. Guess I've spent too much time in waiting rooms. Girls are really lucky to be able to wear such pretty and comfortable fashions." "It's okay honey. It's not against the law to appreciate pretty clothes. Lucky are we? Never thought I'd hear a boy admit that ." Again, that same sweet smile but the eyes- - -her eyes had that twinkle I knew so well. What was she up to this time? I was on a roll. "Well, the new spring styles are so soft and super femme mom. It's nice to see girls looking like girls for a change and I'm glad to see heels looking less chunky. That chunky look is so 70's!" "Oh, I agree with you honey. I've always just loved my Manolo Blahnick stiletto spikes. They do so much for a girls' legs even if they do require more feminine skill." "Oh, they really DO Mom," I replied a bit too enthusiastically. *Oh my! Whatever possessed me to let her know how I really feel about women's clothing and heels? She's right though. Her Manolos look fabulous.* By the time of my next treatment, number six; I was becoming downright effervescent as well as observant. It had been only two weeks and I was obviously in some gender oriented difficulty. And Mom, who was known as a prankster anyway, was apparently feeling a little playful because I found a few pairs of lacy high leg panties and some matching camis in my underwear drawer. Imagine! *"Oh, really," I thought! "She wants to play, does she? Okay. So this is my reward for being observant and complimentary? Well, it looks like just TOO much fun* I giggled." Just picking up that satiny cami was a turn on as I turned it back and forth with my taloned hands. And from that day forward, I wore this pretty lingerie and loved the way it felt against my skin. My skin. Was it becoming softer still or did the sensual undies just bring out it's sensitivity? Could it be that my body was changing, becoming more curvaceous? And my face. It seemed more-oval, my eyes larger, brighter, cheekbones more pronounced. Was I losing weight? And was that genuine female jealousy bouncing off the crumbling walls of my enlightened brain when I observed a perfectly coifed, dressed and shod girl? Yes, it was. The thought that I was jealous of a beautiful girl was not as disturbing to me as I thought is should have been. It felt somewhat normal. Surely not! Still, I WAS enjoying my new silken undies. "Judging by the laundry, I see you're wearing the new undies I bought you O.D. They're nice, aren't they?" "Very, Mom. When I said you were lucky, I had no idea HOW lucky or how you would take that remark. It never crossed my mind that you would take it so literally, but I just love them. Thanks." "You're very welcome honey," she replied. "Lingerie is so much nicer. Maybe we should do a little shopping for you since you seem to have so much fashion sense these days." "Oh mom, that sounds like fun. Please. Let's." *Did I almost go orbital over the prospect of going shopping? Wow!* Usually shopping was a drag for me but now I embraced the idea with eerie anticipation. A night out with Mom shopping and I looked forward to it. Well, why not? Girls do it all the time. Shopping for clothes ought to be fun. I hoped she was talking about pretty clothes shopping. That thought, while strangely enticing, was still a bit scary especially when I heard myself say, "Please, let's." That very evening, we did go shopping and she bought me some more lingerie. We got a couple teddies and a chemise. At the Vanity Fair store we got two pairs of snug ladies jeans and a couple control panties and I kept one pair on. Yes, I know we could have gotten boys jeans but they didn't fit me well. Mom thought the lady Lees fit me much better and I must admit they did make my tush look cute. We even stopped in a shoe store and she got me a pair of the cutest sandals, a pair of comfy clogs, a pair of dress flats and a pair of loafers with a little bit of a heel. I was beside myself with girlish glee all of a sudden even if I WAS chicken to wear my dress flats to school. This was, apparently, another compulsion surfacing- - -shoes and not just shoes- - -WOMEN'S fashion shoes. The thought of actually wearing pretty womens' shoes was making my head to flip-flops. Was I becoming one of those transvestite people? Well, even so, it felt wonderful, too wonderful to stop. I was now wearing a pair of black, form fitting Lee jeans, a knit top over my latest lingerie, a pair of knee-highs and my new flats. It felt divine to be dressed like this and so- - -right. I felt utterly compelled to go to the drug store and get a jar of Shea butter for my complexion. Mom seemed to dote over me as we chose some eye makeup for me and the sales girl volunteered to put some on for me. Wow! What a difference! It felt exquisite as I gently massaged the butter into my face and lips that night after mom showed me how to apply the eye makeup myself. It really made my eyes look sexy. I vowed to take better care of my skin. "Have I mentioned how cute you look like that honey," asked Mom. "No, but I can't help wondering why I feel this way. I'm completely dressed like a girl mom, and I love it. Thank you. Don't my feet look pretty in these flats?" "Yes dear. You look very cute. I think we should go shopping again really soon. I'm getting all sorts of wonderful ideas for you since your taste in clothing seems to have changed. Why don't we see if we can find you a blazer and some slacks or something?" It didn't take us long to find something we both liked and I thought maybe I'd wear the outfit to the dance. *** The next day I wore some of my new things: my red cami and panties, a red blouse with my tan jeans and new loafers with the 2 1/2 inch heels. I'm afraid I couldn't resist the temptation to make my eyes a little more dramatic too with some light brown shadow and eyeliner in addition to the mascara. My brows were a little too bushy though so I plucked them some. A few of the guys I knew at school really looked at me strangely and I wondered if it was because I looked cute or that they were turned off by my improvements. I'm afraid I wanted to think I was cute. Oh, NO! Was I turning gay? I didn't feel that way but I certainly had very little sexual attraction to girls lately. Checking them out wasn't about sex now. And, if I wanted the guys to think I was cute, what did that say about how I was feeling about THEM? What business did I have using my Mona Lisa smile on BOYS? Later in the morning, at my next treatment- - -"Doctor Montero, do I seem like I've-like I've changed at all? I'm feeling so unusual lately. I keep having these odd dreams and I've no idea why, but I seem to look different in the mirror after each of the last couple treatments. My skin seems to be changing all over and my body hair is becoming lighter and sparser. I hardly shave at all. And yes, I realize how I'm dressed but look how pretty my nails are now! Mom took me shopping and I'm afraid we went a little overboard. Don't get me wrong though. I LOVE the hair and I DO appreciate your recommending Linda at the salon. She does wonders. It feels wonderful. Does it look too---well, too feminine with a perm?" "What is TOO feminine O.D.? Female is sex. Femininity is a state of mind so, if that is feminine, how can you not want to improve on it? And just look at how you're dressed. High-heeled moccasins and a cute top with Lady Lees. You DO recall our conversation, don't you? I told you I'd never done this with a male before. I'm afraid most of the transducers in the cap could not be reconfigured and re-engineering the software would defeat my purposes with all my other trial subjects as I have two others I'm treating besides you. I had to leave them as is and hope for the best." "The other subjects are older than you but you are the exception that proves the rule. The chemicals of course had to remain almost as originally compounded too in order to stimulate the follicles with the correct nutrients when the current was applied. Of course this meant that I would have to recreate female puberty when hair is lush and full. That is why your hair pattern is changing; moving down your forehead, and your hair is longer, stronger and fuller. That hair cut looks very nice with your bone structure. This is going to be a wonderful victory for both of us. You were suffering from male pattern baldness so I stopped the source of the problem. You'll thank me later. It's quite becoming actually and so it your outfit." "The source of the problem Doctor?" "Yes, the source. Your sex! It is I'm afraid, quite possible that your male thinking patterns are also being affected by the transducers or the chemicals or both. Perhaps that's why you seem to be so fond of lingerie and girls' outerwear these days. I've noticed, as I can't help see down your blouse when I am behind you. The hair and style look lovely on you though. Soon it will be long enough to style several different ways. And yes dear, you DO look different after each treatment. How could you not? That's the reason I take a picture of you every time you come now. Casual observation tells me that you HAVE changed your thinking patterns. You are using your hands differently now also, more in keeping with the picture I'm seeing. How do you feel?" "Basically fine I think. Different at the very least but is it only a BIT different doctor? I think I'm feeling QUITE a bit different both mentally and physically. I'm having some very odd thoughts and ideas. At least they felt odd at first but Mom took me shopping again last night and I'm feeling a bit more at ease. Just look what I've done with my nails! I have CLAWS! Aren't they pretty? But I'm generally fine Doctor and my grades have actually improved except I can't help thinking about fashions as well as hair and mom has gotten me some more new undies and other things." "It seems I've fallen in love with satin and nylon, with pretty clothes in general. I think I may be a little jealous of Ellie. Maybe that's why I let Linda do this fabulous French manicure. I'm afraid I did mention to my Mom that I thought girls were lucky and she dragged out of me how adorable I thought high heels are. That's probably how I ended up in lingerie and these girlish clothes. I wouldn't think of wearing dumb mens' clothing now. Isn't that wild? I kind of wish I wasn't so tall, not that I am, really. Mom has been playing little games with me too." "She's bought me some very pretty clothing but what I don't understand is why my nipples are so sensitive. I'm afraid they poke out a bit and are getting larger and darker by the day. They feel wonderful against my camis though. I think it makes me feel sexy the way they poke out a little. I almost wish they'd grow some more, but then they'd be breasts wouldn't they? Could I be wanting my breasts to grow Doctor..." "Wait a MINUTE! MY SEX? YOU'RE CHANGING MY SEX?" "I suppose that is possible. It's also likely that you are growing breasts. What are you doing about classes?" "Oh, mine are so large they don't take attendance. If you don't hand in a test, you don't get a grade. Lecturers don't seem to care whether you show up or not. I've been sitting in a different seat too which helps except that the guy next to me seems to want to take me out." "Is he cute?" "Very, but certainly I can't go out with him. You never answered my question Doctor." "I was hoping you hadn't noticed that. Yes O.D., it IS possible that is what is taking place. I just don't know for sure yet if you can remain male." "Oh, my," I uttered as my hand flew up to my mouth and my eyes grew wide with the import of what was said. "This is all very interesting O.D. Fascinating! Do keep me informed if you have any more unusual feelings or impulses, will you?" "How much more unusual can they GET but certainly Doctor. I'm so happy with my hair now," as I reached up and ran my fingers through it while performing a hair flip. As I left the office and headed down the stairs, I realized for the first time how I was walking and emoting with a gentle sway in my hips and my hands, they were swinging limply like a GIRL. My feet were being placed almost one foot in front of the other as I made gentile and purposeful progress down the hall. I noticed my nipples harden under my new nylon top when I thought about my sexy manicure and how I was moving. *My SEX? Well,* I thought, *not terribly unusual for someone wearing panties and a cami with a cute hairdo I suppose, someone who's wanting her breasts to grow.* And I swiveled out of the building to my next class. When I hit the cooling air, I wondered what wearing sheer nylon hose was like and would it help keep me warm since my body hair seemed to be changing character if not disappearing. What little there was had already disappeared from my chest, bosom, whatever. The thought plagued me the rest of the day. Would they make my legs look pretty like Ellen's? I hoped so. But, even if they did, who would see them anyway? And why bother with hose if I couldn't wear pretty heels and a skirt? After that treatment, I was aware that those protrusions appeared larger, pressing against my blouse with renewed vigor and they jiggled more noticeably as I walked. And my head just sat there taking delight in what I saw bouncing under my chin. Ellen could not help remark, "O.D., you have just been so bubbly lately, not to mention sweet. It's good to see you so happy but you seem to be losing weight and you're getting a little flabby at the same time. That's a terrific manicure. Is that a new blouse?" "Yeah. I'm sure it is. Another of Mom's little gifts. I'm just glad it's opaque. It's bad enough that it's nylon and drapes across my bosom like this. I think that accounts for the flabby. Mom's gone off the deep end since we starting talking about fashion. She says if I'm going to have such strong opinions about it, I should experience it. I simply can't think of a reason to argue with her. I never realized clothes shopping could be so much fun. She says the darker hues compliment my complexion. Do you think so?" "Yes. As long as you're happy O.D." "Oh, I AM happy Ellen. Mom took me shopping last night and I got some neat stuff. She seems really inspired when it comes to my wardrobe. I wish daddy would say something nice about how I look though. He hardly looks at me. Why don't we do something special this weekend? Let's go dancing, shall we?" "I'd love that hon. Give me a chance to trot out something nice. See you at 8 on Saturday night then?" "Fine." And we parted. That evening, as if Mom knew exactly what was going through my little mind, she took me shopping again. Things became even wilder. I did my eyes more dramatically and wore my lilac blouse with my black jeans and new flats with suntan knee-highs. If I was going shopping for girl clothes, it figured that I should probably look like a girl. To question whether I could even pass as a girl never even entered my mind. As we were leaving, daddy stayed glued to the news on TV. It was so strange how flat my crotch looked with my power panties on under these feminine jeans. It would be really hard to guess I was a boy there and especially with my cute little lumpy chest, small waist and chubbier butt. After I finished with Moms' hot rollers and brushed out my hair, I thought I looked rather foxy. Apparently Mom did too because the first place we went was Victoria's where she had me fitted for a couple darling satin bras. They were only an 'A' cup but did make the most of my bosom and I filled the cups with just me, no padding. There was no doubt now. I had breasts, a bosom and it was growing- - -fast, as fast as my hair and I'm afraid I was really excited about it like a young pubescent girl. Then she took me back to the cosmetics counter where we chose some lipsticks that matched my complexion and the girl applied some for me. I reasoned that if I could wear a bra, why NOT lipstick? I looked in the mirror and was thrilled. She applied it so artfully and made my lips so sexy. I didn't realize my lips were so pouty. Oh, how I hated being a boy at that moment when I realized my potential. The lipstick brought it all together for me. Dressed and made up like this, I resembled nothing like a boy and who would want to when they could look this cute! Then it was off to several dress shops where I must have tried on at least a dozen dresses and we bought three, one of which I wore out of the store. It was navy blue with a straight skirt. "We need some dressier shoes honey. You need some that go with dresses and skirts." "Oh YES mom. I saw some really cute ones at Bakers." So it was off to Bakers. Six pairs! I couldn't believe my good luck at having such a sweet mom. I was a little wobbly in my first heels but the black patent 4" spikes looked so darling on my size 8 feet. The salesgirl was a little surprised that I seemed so inexperienced in heels as most girls these days were wearing them by the time they were 13. So, she joined in with some pointers while I was practicing. We got some more conservative heels too in taupe, two more pairs of flats and a pair of sexy high-heeled wedge sandals. They were so cute with the dress I just had to wear them home. As we were leaving the shoe store, it hit me. What was daddy going to say? At this rate, his son was a goner, and soon! I was returning home in a dress and high heels and with lipstick and eyes to die for. "Relax your hips honey and put more sway into them. That's it. When you wear high heels you need more hip action. Oh, you DO make a cute girl." She hugged me. "Thank you momma," I replied as my voice cracked- - -again. I started keeping count the second time that happened. This was number seven in two days. Mom went off somewhere while I was at the food court having a Diet Coke. As I sat there contemplating my future, I wondered why all of this was not freaking me out. I had no answer. It all felt just wonderful, like it was meant to be, like it SHOULD have been all along. I noticed several boys looking at me. I knew why this time. I WAS cute. It made me VERY self conscious but I loved it. Imagine, ME being cute enough to attract that hunk in the blue shirt. Wow! Later, several pairs of pantyhose and thigh highs appeared in my now 'lingerie' drawer which was devoid of cotton, along with a chemise and a very pretty nightie which I just HAD to wear that night. It was SO comfortable I raved about it the next morning at breakfast while when it was under my new nylon robe, my pert new breasts poking out so demurely. Daddy only came out from behind his paper long enough for a quick glance. Apparently he didn't fully appreciate our little lingerie game. I don't think he appreciated how my new mules clacked on the wood floor either. Well, pooh on him! I noticed while dressing that mom had apparently gone through all the drawers of my chest and removed ALL the clothing and underwear that wasn't girlish or unisex. Well, I acknowledged that this was probably for the best and finished dressing. I wore a pair of pantyhose and my new clogs to school not even thinking that I was clad totally in lingerie under my now equally female outerwear. It felt wonderful but I allowed as how this bra might feel a bit confining and wondered how girls got used to them. There was no denying how my chest felt though. It would not be proper to go without a bra the way my nipples were jutting out. When I looked down and saw 'them' it was both thrilling and scary. I bounced and I was loving how 'they' looked in my nightie. Maybe I was going to have to ask for more advice on bra styles soon. The top was a powder blue turtleneck Mom had gotten me and it was way too soft to be menswear but I didn't care. I loved it and the necklace with the caged pearl. It was the pert bumps in front that were so disconcerting. I was only wearing a smattering of color, mostly my eyes with a little blusher and some lightly tinted gloss and pale pink nail enamel. The night of our dance date arrived. Ellen was a vision in her red, figure hugging cocktail dress with the deep oval neckline and spaghetti straps. It showed just the right amount of demure but sexy cleavage. The skirt was a little swingy and ended at mid thigh, which provided a great view of her long legs perched on strappy red patent spike sandals. She wore her pearl drop earrings, necklace and bracelet. I was effusive in my praise. I had a hard time taking my eyes off her. And I was jealous of my girlfriend's figure. *This is terrible,* I thought. *I wish my breasts would grow faster.* I wore my new white high cut panties and cami along with tan lace top thigh highs, a light pink blouse and black bra with black silk shantung slacks with matching blazer and black ghillie tie slip-ons with the raised heels. I was pretty sure my bra showed through my blouse. I thought I looked a little too feminine but Mom said I looked fine so I added a little mascara before I left. My nails were long enough to get in the way more than a little now. I don't understand why I did my eyes. I just wanted to look 'nicer'. After all, it was going to be dark where we went and I didn't want my eyes to disappear. It was while I was doing my eyes that I noticed how totally female my hands looked now. I had the urge to add a little blush too and went with it. When we got to the club, we got a table and then a drink. I tried not to flinch when the greeter seated is and said, "The waitress will be right over with your menus ladies." Ellen did not respond to this either. She looked at me inquiringly though and grinned. Then we started out with a slow dance. It was mutual as we both noticed. "O.D., these are only 3" heels. Aren't you 5'10" tall?" "I thought so Ellie but we certainly are sort of eye to eye, aren't we? I feel like I'm actually a little shorter than that. I seem to be looking up at you. Maybe I'm only 5'7" or maybe eight." "Could it be you're shrinking sweetie? I'm only 5'6" and I think I AM a tad taller in these heels. Your eyes look great. Maybe you should try a little brown shadow next time and some liner with your mascara." "You weren't supposed to notice that Ellie. Sorry." "Don't be. It looks good. Your eyes are one of your best features. You should do what you can to make them more dramatic." "All right, if you say so but I don't see how I could be shrinking at my age but certainly, anything is possible. Now that you mention it, some of my clothes seem a little loose too as well as this pair of loafers I'm wearing. I seem to be stepping out of them. I wonder if you can lose weight in your feet. And most of my pants except this outfit mom and I bought are too tight in the butt. We just bought some new jeans a few days ago and they're a little tight already." Of course, I didn't tell her about the dresses and heels. I had no idea how much of this she could handle. One thing I hadn't counted on was that when we danced close, our breasts nestled between the other's, my right between both of hers. My left next to her right. She MUST have felt my bra. As we danced, it came to me why I was staring at Ellie so. It was TRUE. I WAS jealous of her; her body, her clothes, her freedom, her ability to just be her feminine self ALL the time. But, if I was jealous of that, who was I to be jealous of a GIRL? Was I not a fox when I got all dolled up too? That thought had no sooner formed than two cute guys came up to us and asked US to dance. I was so embarrassed. Or WAS I? Anyway, Ellen said no and they left. When we were seated again, I caught Ellie staring at ME. "What's the matter El?" "Aside from the fact that we both just got hit on by two hunks? I can't put my finger on it unless---yes, your widow's peak has disappeared O.D. Your hairline is moving forward and---and your eyebrows don't seem as bushy. I'll bet Linda plucked them. It's not just the mascara." "Yes," I replied. "She couldn't keep her hands off me." "Not only is your balding spot looking normal now but your hair pattern seems to be changing. It looks nice. I think the cut and perm was a good idea. I'm not complaining. If anything, you look cuter and what girl would complain about her date looking cuter?" "A girl who thought she was dating a BOY? I confess the doctor did mention the possibility of these things happening Ellie. It seems her chemicals and the machine are making some changes in me that we can't avoid. I find myself feeling very drawn to everything feminine and I know that I must look different and the way I'm emoting has certainly changed. It's like every time I leave that machine I leave some of Owen behind. The way these hands look and move for instance. I'm having a hard time controlling it. I don't think I even WANT to. It's like my mind is changing and my body is coming along for the ride." "It's pretty obvious I'm acting more like a girl. I think I would like to stop that but then, what else would stop? We could quit the treatments of course but it would just kill me now not to have beautiful hair. I've gotten used to it and I don't mind a trip to the salon every couple weeks except I really didn't want her to do my eyebrows so thin. I hope you don't mind me having so much more hair. I swear it's grown at least an inch in the last week and I just had to have a perm and a manicure. I've been flipping hair out of my eyes so much, Mom has me wearing barrettes at home and showing me how to use a 'hairdini'. I suppose I don't mind being considered 'cuter' except the thought dredges up unusual memories. At least, I think they are memories." "How so O.D? Memories of what?" "I think I've been falling asleep in Dr. Montero's chair ever since the 2nd time and I've been having some odd dreams. Those ankle strap sandals look darling on you by the way. You should see my new- - -never mind. Anyhow, I seem to be having dreams and they usually begin and end with my hair, which just keeps growing longer and fuller and I seem to remember it falling in waves down my back. I'm not sure what's in the middle except that I seem to be feeling awfully feminine lately. Sorry I'm so giggly and my voice is cracking. It's just that I'm beginning to feel so much better about myself. Probably the first thing I noticed was how colors had become brighter and now I seem to be noticing everything, especially fashions, like the bodice of your dress and how nice your legs look in those black patterned hose with those darling heels. You really look very striking in red. You should wear more." "That's an interesting development Odie. I never knew you cared so much for women's fashions before. I think your Mom is on to something. What seems to turn you on most about them?" "Well, first the colors but then it's the fabrics too. Everything I suppose. I love how they flow and feel. There are so many more choices. I know you've caught me looking at other girls Ellie but it's not for the reason you might think, at least, not lately. Must be fun to wear a dress like that on a really sexy body and high heels are just the sexiest. Oh Ellie, Mom bought me some of the cutest clothes and shoes a few nights ago. I can't wait to show you. I wish I'd had the guts to dress up for you tonight but I didn't know how you'd take it." "Linda says she's going to give me 'the WORKS' next time. Ellie, she wants to wax my legs and arms and give me a facial. My beard has stopped growing and she says I have lovely skin. Then she said she'd apply moisturizer and foundation and eyeliner and shadow and blusher and finally lipstick to match my cinnamon colored claws. She says I'll be beautiful and that she'd show me how to do it. This is terrible Ellie! And I feel like I'm going to let her DO it to me. I can't seem to stop myself! I seem out of control and Owen is disappearing, VANISHING! He's become so transparent all I can see in the mirror is a girl!" I'm afraid I began to tear up a bit which elicited an immediate warning that I'd ruin my mascara so I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue that I took from my little shoulder bag. I think it was to Ellie's credit that she took that outburst all in without critical comment. She simply sat there and smiled sweetly at me and placed a reassuring hand upon mine and squeezed. "Waitress. Check please," she said. As we left, Ellie stood off to the side while I paid the cashier so she must have heard her say, Tthank you Miss. You ladies please come back." I smiled sweetly and replied, "We will." in the somewhat breathy feminine voice that was overtaking my speech. "That was so strange Ellie. Did you hear?" "Of course." She smiled. "Were you insulted O.D.?" "No. No I wasn't. It felt more like- - -a compliment, not a put down!" I felt unusual and self conscious talking with Ellie about women's fashions and wondered where in the world I had even picked up the vocabulary then realized that I indeed knew the difference between a cami and a teddy as well as a page boy and a chignon. I also knew that Ellie was wearing two shades of eye shadow and brown eyeliner. How absolutely strange that she liked my mascara, blush and eyebrows. Then I realized with some chagrin I had expressed my admiration for her sandals as 'darling' and expressed curiosity about what it must be like to wear a dress and heels like that. I already knew of course. That helmet was doing strange things to me or perhaps they were already DONE! Judging by my reaction to Linda's suggestions about what she wanted to do to me, it WAS already done! Afraid as I was of the implications, I knew I wanted a complete makeover, to discard what was left of Owen forever. Heaven, help me. I wanted to be a beautiful, sexy chick and it was pretty obvious now that it was going to happen! My life was going to be full of lingerie, dresses and heels and I just LOVED the idea. Without any conscious thought on my part, mother was going to get her daughter after all. "O.D. Do you have a bra on under that blouse?" "All right Ellen. Yes, and I need it. Well, not like YOU do but it's an honest 'A' cup. It's a Maidenform. I guess I slipped up earlier when I referred to my 'bosom' didn't I?" "Afraid so hon. It's small wonder she referred to you as 'miss'. You're a little butch like that but I'm not complaining. Still cute." Later when we were petting a little in my Neon, I wondered if that was a Hanes seamless bra she had on or one from Victorias. It certainly felt good. It was becoming so warm in the car. Our nipples were rock hard and I was having waves of shattering feelings wash over me. It was so strange having someone play with my breasts. Slippery! I wondered- - -and then had a flashback to a dream that was crystal clear in the doctor's chair. Oh NO! Part of the middle filled in and there WAS a significantly larger bra under MY cami and my nipples looked engorged as though I'd been playing with them- - -like now. They were soft, brown, distended on top of luscious 'C-' sized mounds and sensuously cute in my low cut black and braless cocktail dress. I couldn't have weighed over 120 pounds. My dance partner was that hunk in the blue shirt from the mall. My, he looked nice in a suit. Such nice, strong muscles . I didn't see Ellie for a few days. Between classes and shopping, I had been busy. The next time I saw her she was wearing a long sleeved green shirtwaist dress, taupe hose and a pair of cute wedge heeled raffia sandals. "Hi honey, how have you been," I asked? "Wonderful O.D. And you?" "You look nice. New jeans? That's a pretty necklace and earring set. Hoops look good on you. Present from your Mom no doubt. I didn't realize both your ears were pierced. You're looking so cute. Let's sit." "Yes, it is. I love it and you're right. I just got the other one pierced. Do you mind if we stand a moment Ellie?" "No, of course not but why?" "I could say I just want to drink you all in but I'm worried." "Why, hon?" "Because of your heel height and my face. Look at me. You're looking WAY down on me. I must not be any taller than you now in these flats." "Alright. Your clothes look a little loose except for those slacks that really show off your tush. Hope you don't have your wallet in there." "No. No I wouldn't dare. That's why I picked up this little leather shoulder bag to carry it and my cosmetics. Anything else?" "Oh, my! If I look straight ahead, I'm looking above your EYEBROWS!" "Exactly! How can that BE Ellie? That means I'm only 5'6" at most now too. Maybe a size 8. Actually, these jeans ARE an 8." "O.D., that's not all." "Oh, fine! NOW what?" "Your facial features-more like your Mom than ever, so refined. You've gotten--- you've gotten---prettier than my sister Jill even without foundation and lipstick. I'm so used to looking at you it didn't even dawn on me what a beautiful palette you have. Those cheek bones and those full, petulant lips. You're not just handsome anymore. You're HOT honey. No wonder Linda wants to do a make over on you. It will be FABULOUS! You could MODEL!" "OH, I just KNEW it wasn't my imagination. No wonder Mom has been buying me all the pretty things, even shoes, the most darling shoes and SKIRTS and dresses! I've been practicing in my new heels at home for a week. I just LOVE them. You'd be proud of my wiggle. I don't have a stitch of boy clothes ON and I don't care if I ever wear any again. You wouldn't believe all the neat stuff she's gotten me and it's not just my bottom Ellie. My body hair is just about history and I'm surely growing lovely, bouncy breasts and a cushy bottom too and the worst of it is, I WANT them, nice little melons to flaunt and play with. I WANT THEM! I just don't' know WHAT to do! But isn't my hair wonderful? It's this therapy for my hair. I know it. I'm having such a hard time thinking like a guy. Each and every time I leave that chair I feel more like a girl. Owen is almost GONE!" "You say, 'every time I leave the chair.' I wonder how much that helmet has to do with this turnabout? Well, we'll see about that." "Aside from studying, I seem to be spending all my spare time window shopping." "For what sweetie?" "Oh, Ellie. Certainly NOT camping gear! CLOTHES! What ELSE? Lingerie, dresses, heels, jewelry. I'm doomed! I've become a fashion freak, a clotheshorse with a shoe fetish! That's all I see when I look at a girl now or I look and get jealous of her figure. Everybody I meet calls me 'miss' now. EVERYBODY! How can I say differently with what they are seeing, how I'm acting? I'd look stupid putting on boys' things now. I'm going to have hair like a goddess and a body to match aren't I?" "It's already down to those cute little shoulders and yes, I'd say you're about a perfect size 8 now. What am I going to do with you? You're not going to be husband material after all, ARE you with at least a C cup bra in your future? When is your next appointment?" "Tomorrow at 11. There's hardly anything to mention left in my panties. My power front thong hides them easily. And I'm wearing a shaped sports bra. I think husbandry is out of the question now." "I'll see you there. Wear some of that more appropriate clothing your mom and you have bought and we'll have a little chat with Dr. Montero. I'm sure there's a pretty dress or two in your closet by now with heels and purse to match. My friend Owen would seem to be collateral damage from this hair therapy. You're not really a boy anymore honey. Barely male I suspect. Certainly I didn't want this to happen." "I think there are some things she needs to explain." Not the end