Submissive Cum Laude Chapter 1 Mistress Bethany
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Becoming Bethany--Chapter Five free porn video
The ear piercing wasn't too painful...of course, the sting of my eyebrow
waxing was still relatively fresh in my mind and overrode much of the
additional discomfort. Bethany, the Claire's employee who performed the
piercing, had a wonderfully gentle bedside manner, and Lisa and I bought
each other matching bracelets before thanking her and promising to
return for more as soon as my holes had healed.
My toes began to ache as we walked through the mall back to Sak's. Just
when maneuvering about in heels had become almost second nature, it then
became painful! I didn't want to whine to Lisa about it, but when she
stopped momentarily in front of a store window containing a display of
handbags, I leaned against her the way she sometimes leaned against me
after a long evening out together. She gave me an understanding look
now, and said, "Did you need to powder your nose?"
I thought about it. I had used the toilet back at Hot Nails, but at the
same time... "Are we going home now?" I asked her.
She shook her head. "Come on," she said. "Here's your big chance to
see the Sak's Fifth Avenue Ladies Lounge."
Sore feet or not, I managed to keep up with Lisa as she breezed through
Sak's, past the glittering evening gowns and the frilly intimates over
to a door discreetly labeled "Ladies Lounge". She pushed through the
door and I followed, although I was far too nervous to linger in what
appeared to be an elegant arrangement of comfortable chairs and vanity
mirrors, instead pushing my way into the first stall that appeared
unoccupied, hurriedly fumbling with my lengthy nails to lock the bolt
behind me.
Hanging up my purse, I considered the gap between the bottom of the
stall door and the tile floor. My shoes and ankles were undoubtedly
still visible; fortunately I welcomed the opportunity to get off my
feet. I pulled up my skirt, carefully pulled down my pantyhose and
panties, and sat down.
I don't think that I ever felt so vulnerable as I did at that moment in
the Sak's Fifth Avenue Ladies Lounge, wearing a blouse and wig, my skirt
hiked up, sitting on the toilet with my freshly shaven thighs exposed as
I pushed the most unfeminine thing about me down between my legs to pee.
I tried to wiggle my toes in my pumps, and wondered where Lisa would
take me next.
When I was through I stood up, wiped myself, quickly pulled my
pantyhose back up and pushed my skirt back down to my knees--after
tugging at the tails of my blouse to make sure they were snug in my
waistband. Then I flicked the bolt open with an elegantly long nail and
pulled the door back open.
As I stepped back out into the ladies room, enjoying the feeling of my
satin skirt lining around my legs once again, I caught a glimpse of
myself in a mirror across the room. For a moment, seeing the way my
white blouse curved around my breastforms and tapered at the waist, I
thought I was looking at another female. My lips were thick with
lipstick, my eyebrows arched femininely over my thick eyelashes, and now
each of my earlobes sparkled.
"Come on, sweetie," Lisa said, watching this. "You look fabulous."
I was blushing as we were leaving the ladies room. A mother and her
young daughter were entering, and I found myself holding the door for
them. The woman smiled, looked straight at me, and said, "Thank you."
"You see?" Lisa asked.
We walked back to the escalator, where we were quickly lifted high above
the rest of the store. I stared down my smooth dark blue skirt and at
my strappy pumps as I stood on the grooved steps, and at the top, our
shoes clicked daintily as we stepped off and continued out the side door
and back to Lisa's car. "I'll open my own door," I told her crossly,
but as I said it, I realized that for some reason I was talking like a
girl without even thinking about it. I'd spent the day immersed in
femininity, and it was having an effect!
Lisa winked at me as she watched me carefully open the door myself,
trying to not scuff my acrylic tips.
"How do you feel?" she asked as she steered her car towards the mall
exit.
"Fabulous," I told her. I was once again looking at myself in the
little mirror in the sun visor; I loved my new earrings--small,
tasteful, yet sparkly and fun. "Where are we going now?"
"Downtown," Lisa said. "I need to stop by work and pick something up."
"O.K.," I said. "What do you need?"
"You can come in with me, sweetie," she said, not answering my question.
"I know how you've always wanted to see the club."
'But dressed like this?' I thought. As she somehow knew how to do,
however, Lisa read my mind. "You look fine," she said. "In fact, they
might even ask you to fill out an application."
"Yeah, right," I said.
"Why not?" she asked.
"They're hiring transvestites?" I asked.
Lisa scowled. "Hello!" she announced. "Welcome to the 21st century! I
think that if you sincerely wanted to work for the club presenting
yourself as a female, there's no reason why you shouldn't!"
"You don't think it would cause problems?"
"It doesn't have to," she said.
We rode for a while. "I've always loved that suit you wear to work," I
told her.
Lisa smiled. "I know, sweetie."
"I don't care," I said. "If I thought I could do better than I was
doing working for that pizza joint, I'd quit that job tomorrow."
"That shouldn't be too hard," Lisa said.
"Of course I don't know if I can ever expect to get more hours over
there if I do stuff like get my nails done and my eyebrows waxed." I
groaned. "And I'm supposed to keep these starter earrings in for six
weeks, and I can't wear them at all at that job, either."
Lisa shrugged. "Are you sorry you got all that done? Because I think
you look wonderful!"
I reached over and put my hand on her skirt. Using my new nails I
pulled the hem back and touched her thigh, tickling it with my tips.
She giggled, and took my hand in hers, interlocking our nails together
tightly.
As we made our way up Main Street towards downtown, I flashed back to
that day not long ago when I was walking on this same street with
thirty-five Southern Belle sisters, including Lisa, covered from head-
to-toe in exquisite lavender antebellum fashions--so much splendor, it
was almost overwhelming. I touched the soft white sleeve of my blouse
with my long acrylic-tipped fingers and shuddered. Who could resist
so much beauty? Who? And why?
The building where Lisa worked had an underground parking area. Walking
from her car to the elevator was another moment where I felt somewhat
exposed. The cool garage air seemed to rise up between my legs. While
Lisa assured me that there had never been any incidents down in the
basement, that security patrolled the lot 24 hours a day, I nonetheless
felt an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability as we stood among the concrete
surroundings in our skirts and heels, waiting for the elevator to arrive
at the bottom floor. When it finally did arrive, there was also a
moment just before the door opened where I held my breath, not knowing
if there would be anybody in the elevator. Perhaps I'd seen too many
movies where bad things happened to defenseless young women in remote
areas of the city; still I breathed a sigh of relief when we were
finally in the elevator with the door closed, and I felt my feet being
pressed further into the toes of my pumps as the elevator began to rise.
"Look," Lisa said. On the inside of the elevator doors we could see
full-length reflections of ourselves. I liked the way our exposed
calves seemed to echo one other, smooth, silky, and perched on heels.
Feeling silly (among other things) I reached for Lisa, but withdrew my
hand as I felt the elevator abruptly slowing. My heart rate increased
again as it stopped at the first floor and the doors opened.
"Lisa!" a woman exclaimed from the first floor lobby. "Good afternoon!"
I unconsciously stepped backwards, praying it wouldn't be somebody I
knew.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Herndon!" Lisa replied in her usual warm manner.
"How are you? I believe you've met Bethany?"
I tried to look relaxed as Maude Herndon entered the elevator. She
looked momentarily confused as Lisa extended a hand towards me, but her
face quickly lit up with recognition. "Of course!" she exclaimed as the
doors closed. "Bethany," she repeated slowly, as if digesting each
syllable. "What a lovely name!"
"Hello, Mrs. Herndon," I said, feeling my breast forms jiggle slightly
as the elevator accelerated upwards again.
"Mrs. Herndon," Lisa said, "I was suggesting to Bethany that she should
see about filling out an application with the club. We need help back
in the office."
"Oh!" Mrs. Herndon exclaimed. "You're here to see about the opening for
a hostess?"
"Well, not exactly," I said.
"Why not?" Mrs. Herndon asked. "My dear, we would simply love to have
you!"
"Well," I said, stammering, "I'm not...you know..."
"Not what?" she asked. "I can tell you that you are certainly pretty
enough."
"I said the same thing," Lisa chimed in.
"I'm not a girl," I whispered.
Mrs. Herndon smiled sadly. "Even if we weren't desperate, which we are,
we could still do far, far worse than hiring you, I'm sure. Are you
worried about hearing remarks around the office?"
"Well, there's that," I said.
Mrs. Herndon shook her head. "Any catty comments would be made out of
sheer jealousy, and if they become a problem, I'll see to it that they
cease."
"It won't be a problem, sweetie," Lisa said.
"But what about my job now?"
"What it is?" Mrs. Herndon.
"Delivering pizza," I whispered. The elevator door opened, and I
realized that we were on the top floor. This was where Lisa worked.
We stepped out onto a marble floor, the clicking of our heels gently
echoing up an exquisitely appointed hallway. At one end of the hallway,
windows overlooked the city to the east; at the other end was an
unmarked antique-white door with a brass handle.
"Lisa," Mrs. Herndon said, "Do we have a uniform for Bethany? I'm sure
we can at least use an extra hand tonight."
"That's why I'm here," she said. "I'm not scheduled, but I thought we
might need some help in the office--we still have those membership files
to update. And we do have a uniform," she smiled, looking at me and
winking.
Mrs. Herndon opened the antique-white door and held it open for Lisa and
I. Behind it we saw Carrie sitting at a magnificent oak receptionist's
desk in her uniform, a nametag pinned to her suit jacket. She smiled
and said, "Good afternoon Mrs. Herndon. Hello Lisa. Hello..." Her
voice trailed off.
"Good afternoon, Carrie," Mrs. Herndon said. "This is Bethany, and she
is going to need a nametag as soon as possible."
Carrie immediately picked up a pen and jotted this down. "Is Bethany
going to be working for us?" she asked.
"Can you show her how to print up those billing packets?" Lisa asked.
Carrie nodded. "Tonight?" she asked.
"But don't I need to fill out an application?" I asked.
"We'll get you an application," Lisa said. "Thank you, Mrs. Herndon.
Come on, Bethany, I'll help you change."
"You want me to work tonight?" I whispered as I followed Lisa up a
hallway carpeted with rich shag carpeting that was soft under my heels.
"Just for a half-shift," Lisa explained. "Carrie will show you what to
do, and we can grab a bite to eat on the way home."
I followed Lisa into a small coatroom which contained a rack of
clothing. "Are sure I still look O.K.? I'm going to need to shave
eventually."
She touched my cheek. "Not yet though," she said. She poked down the
rack and pulled out, in quick succession, a skirt, a jacket, and a
blouse, all exactly matching the outfit I'd admired on her so often.
"What about shoes?" I asked. Lisa, I knew, wore enclosed, cream-colored
pumps with her uniform, and not strappy navy blue stilettos like mine.
She winked. "Don't worry," she said. "I've got this all planned." She
handed me the hangers of clothing and led me out of the cloakroom. I
followed her through a door marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY" and up another,
plainer corridor to an unmarked door marked "PRIVATE". "This is like
our little changing room," she said. I followed her inside.
The room was small. Lisa locked the door. "Do you need help with your
buttons?" she asked.
I turned away from her. "Probably with my skirt button," I said, as I
more or less managed to get the first of my blouse buttons unbuttoned.
I felt her behind me waistband of my skirt loosen, and I stepped out of
it as I pulled open my blouse, carefully slipping my hands through the
narrow double-buttoned cuffs.
I studied myself in the mirror in my bra, cincher, pantyhose and panties
as Lisa pulled a shopping bag from a little compartment with her name on
it. She set aside a shoebox and tore the tag off a nude-colored satin
camisole trimmed in lace. "Put this on over your head," she said, "but
watch out for your makeup!"
I figured out which side was the front side and carefully pulled it down
over my head. It was soft, silky, and snug against my body. I could
feel something happening in my pantyhose, but before I could look down
Lisa had finished unbuttoning my new blouse and was handing it to me.
I shuddered as I touched the sheer material. Still balanced on my
heels, I turned the blouse around and found the sleeves. Plunging my
long-nailed hands into the soft sleeves, I drew the front of the blouse
up against my chest, pulling the collar around my neck and feeling the
little buttons in the back. Lisa immediately began to start buttoning
me from the bottom up and I fumbled to button the small buttons on the
narrow dainty cuffs with my long nails. I managed to get one of them
buttoned as I felt Lisa moving up my back, pulling the blouse tighter
and tighter around my new camisole. "Hold your hair, sweetie," Lisa
said, and then I could feel her at the back of my neck, buttoning the
last of the buttons. "Now turn around so I can unbuckle your shoes,"
she said.
I did. As she knelt at my feet, I looked at myself in the mirror as I
fumbled to button my other cuff. When I saw myself in the regal, sheer,
high-necked blouse for the first time, I gasped. The faux ascot that
delicately circled my neck looked quite regal and elegant; I also noted
with satisfaction how feminine the small shoulder pads looked as well as
felt.
"Lisa?" I asked, as I felt my left shoe loosen.
"Yes, sweetie?" she asked.
"Did I ever tell you what happened when I went to the men's room in my
hoopskirt right before the Heritage Day parade?"
"No sweetie, what?" she asked, looking up. Then she gasped and lunged
for a nearby box of Kleenex as I rushed to pull down my pantyhose and
panties.
A moment later we were both giggling. "How did you do that?" Lisa
asked, "with any...um--"
"Friction?" I asked. I looked in the mirror again at the results of my
makeover. "I guess I'm really enjoying this," I told her.
She nodded. "Well, I'm glad you warned me," she said. "That was..."
"I know," I said. "It was pretty impressive on this end too."
Lisa giggled again as she wadded up one last piece of tissue and tossed
it into a nearby wastebasket. "Well, you're O.K. to pull up your
drawers again," she said. "Let me get you your skirt."
"And shoes!" I said.
"And shoes," she said, handing me a cream-colored skirt. She pointed at
the box she had set aside earlier and I eagerly pulled the skirt up
around my waist.
This skirt was more utilitarian than the one I'd been wearing all day,
heavier and slightly looser around my waist, clasping rather than
buttoning in the back. I reached up under the satin lining to pull down
the tails of my blouse and felt a satisfying tugging around my neck.
Then I pulled the top off the shoebox. Inside was a very elegant pair
of cream colored pumps. I put them on the floor and then lifted first
one leg, then the other, to step into them. My lined skirt slid
smoothly up my thigh to accommodate my unladylike stance; slipping into
the shoes, I rose an additional three inches. They fit perfectly and
were so much more comfortable than the strappy shoes I'd been wearing
all day.
"How do I look?" I asked Lisa. She was hanging up my other blouse and
skirt.
"How do you feel?" she replied.
"I feel...elegant," I said.
She nodded. "And you look elegant! Surprise, surprise!"
I traced my nails down the front of my blouse, looking in the mirror all
the while. "Do I leave my purse in here?" I asked.
"We'll label one of these compartments for you," Lisa said. "Now that
you have a name!"
"Bethany," I said.
"Bethany," she repeated.
I could see the lace trim on my camisole through the sheer blouse
material. "I guess I need my jacket," I said, fluffing my hair back and
touching the little buttons on the back of my neck.
"Just one other thing first," Lisa said, reaching behind me for
something.
"What?" I asked. I turned around.
Lisa stood there smiling, holding out to me what I immediately
recognized as her grandmother's pearls.
I gasped.
"I know how much you love these," she said.
"But they're yours!"
"I want to see you in them," she whispered. "Hold up your hair again,"
she said.
I did. Lisa came up to me with the open necklace in both hands and put
them both around my neck. As she fiddled with the clasp, I reached down
and touched her waist with both of my hands. She giggled. Then she let
go of the necklace, and it draped elegantly with my blouse.
Lisa tried to pull back, but I wouldn't let her go. She squirmed, but I
persisted, and after a minute or so, we parted to survey each other's
lipstick damage. "You're going to go away and leave me alone up here?"
I asked.
"I'll be back," she said. "As soon as possible."
As though on cue there was a knock on the door. "It's Carrie!" we
heard her calling.
We both sighed and let go of each other. I turned to look at myself in
the mirror in pearls, while Lisa unlocked the door. "I've got a
nametag," Carrie said.
"Thank you, Carrie," Lisa said. "We're almost ready."
"Turn around, Bethany!" Carrie called. "I want to see you!"
I turned.
"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "Bethany, you rock!"
"Is that good?" I asked.
"Thank you, Carrie," Lisa said. "We'll be right out." She was pinning
the name tag to the breast of the jacket.
"I'll be up front," Carrie told us.
Lisa sighed. "Are you ready, sweetie?"
I was. I thought she was going to hand me the jacket, but she shook her
head and motioned for me to turn so she could help me with it. I stuck
out both hands and felt my long nails and my arms within the wonderfully
silky blouse enter a pair of satin lined sleeves; when I pulled the
jacket over the shoulders of my blouse and fluffed my hair back, the
effect was instantaneous. The delicate little cuff buttons at my wrists
where they protruded from the sleeves, the way the jacket matched the
skirt... I buttoned the jacket, forming a 'V' that perfectly framed the
faux ascot and pearls...my shaven ankles were perched on an elegant pair
of cr?me colored pumps...and on my chest, the name: Bethany.
"I'm going to get paid to do this?" I asked.
"It's up to you," she said. "Come on. I did need to get to the
cleaners before they closed."
I followed her up the hallway of the employee area out to the vestibule
outside the elevator on the top floor. I paused to look out the window
at the east end of the lobby as Lisa pressed the down button.
"Carrie's right through that door," she said, pointing. "You'll do
fine."
"Thank you," I told Lisa. "You always know how to make me feel..."
The elevator bell rang. Lisa smiled as the elevator door opened. "Hold
that thought," she said as she stepped inside. "You'll do fine," she
said again.
I nearly stepped inside the car to kiss her again, but the door suddenly
slid shut, and I was left to only stare at my full-length reflection in
the shiny panels as I heard Lisa's car depart with a whir.
I took a deep breath and adjusted my jacket, admiring my newly trimmed
and arched eyebrows, my sparkly little starting earrings. This was who
I was, and what I looked like. I was on the top floor of the tallest
downtown building, and there was no men's clothing anywhere in here for
me to wear now. I absently fingered the soft high collar of my blouse,
admiring Lisa's grandmother's pearls, and realized that I didn't even
have a ride home if Lisa never came back to pick me up, and yet I felt
oddly secure about myself as I never had before.
Suddenly I was Bethany...and Bethany was me.
I took another deep breath and primped my hair one last time. Then I
turned and began to walk to the entrance of the club, my heels clicking
across the marble.
I knew I would never deliver another pizza again.
***
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I cannot thank everybody enough for the many kind
reviews, comments and e-mails that I have received for both "March of
the Southern Belles" and now "Becoming Bethany". Although I must once
again take a break from TG fiction for a bit, rest assured that I will
almost certainly have something new to share before too long. Again,
the warm response that I have gotten from such wonderful readers has
been the prime motivating factor in prompting me to continue writing.
In the meantime, please feel free to drop me a line at
[email protected]. I would love to hear from you!
Barbie
- 13.12.2022
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