Chapter Eight Youth group cookout
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Pushed Out Part 4 free porn video
Pushed Out 4
By the end of my embarrassing trip to the mall, I was well equipped for
more than a week's worth of work without having to wear anything twice.
All of my shoes were at least a 4" heel, because my wife Edith felt that
anything lower would allow me to walk like a male and revert to male
behavior. I had a mix of "career" outfits, a couple of skimpy
minidresses that I was frankly afraid to wear in public, and a few
"soccer mom" outfits that were on the dressy side of casual.
On Monday morning, my outfit way already laid out on the bed -- a long,
ruffly skirt, peasant blouse and black heels.
"Today will be a comfortable day," Edith said. "We'll let you start
getting used to being a full time girl and won't push the envelope. Of
course, when you go in for your waxing, I can't guarantee that'll be
comfortable!"
Edith had decided on Sunday to have me go in for a full waxing of all
body hair from the neck down. "Getting all that hair off you will make
it possible for you to show more skin, and you want to do that don't
you?"
"I guess so," I replied.
"Well go on! You don't want to be late! Tell you what ... why don't you
take Ivy some donuts to thank you for helping you! Just stop by Dunkin'
Donuts on the way in."
As always, Dunkin' Donuts was a madhouse, and I had to stand in line for
several things, attracting some strange looks and one grunt of
disapproval from an older woman. But I got out without incident and
walked into the office, where Ivy was already on the phone.
"Oh, here she is now," said Ivy. "Let me tell her." She put her hand
over the mouthpiece and said, "This is the salon. They can't do a waxing
today, so I'm just adding that to your appointment Wednesday. You can
get your manicure and just stay until you're done."
"Can't we change my nail appointment?"
"Why?"
"That's when Liz is there, and you know how she can be," I said.
"Cara," she said, using my female name, "you can't avoid overbearing
people. Being around them and learning how to deal with them is an
important part of your transition. I know it isn't easy, but other parts
will be even more difficult. If it weren't Liz, it'd just be somebody
else."
I nodded.
"So here's the deal. Wednesday, you're taking the afternoon off. You'll
get your nails done, and right after that you'll go back for the waxing.
It'll pretty much kill the day. But I'll tell you what. If you're really
nice, we'll have a nice surprise waiting for you after that," she
continued.
"Like what?"
"I'm not telling. Just don't make any evening plans, ok?"
I agreed, and we got to work. I called one of our clients and he
answered, "Kerry or Cara?"
"Cara," I guess. "How did you know?"
"Ivy sent out an email. I assumed you knew about it. Anyway, I admire
your guts."
I thanked him and called out to Ivy: "You sent an email? To whom?"
"Pretty much everybody, boss. It'll be much easier this way. Less
confusion all around."
Feeling that I was losing control of my business, I objected. "Listen,
what's between you and Edith and me is one thing, but it's still my name
on the door. That's not going to change. So before you do anything else
that might affect my business, you'll have to clear it with me."
"OK, I promise I'll keep you in the loop. You're right. But you have to
admit that on some level, you're relieved," she said.
"Oh some level, maybe. But right now, we have work to do," I said.
We got through the rest of the day without much more discussion, with
more of the same on Tuesday. On Wednesday, Edith laid out a corporate-
looking outfit consisting of a straight skirt and blouse. "You need to
learn to wear different kinds of looks," she explained. "This aren't as
comfortable as the loose-fitting outfits you've been wearing, but
they're a reality for the career girl. And at least that straight skirt
will keep your knees together," she said.
I got my makeup on -- I was getting slightly faster and better at it --
and got dressed. Edith was right; the outfit was very constricting, but
wearable. As time approached for my appointment at the spa, Ivy stuck
her head in the door to remind me.
"Now listen, don't worry about Liz. She's loud and boorish, and
everybody knows it. Just ignore her as best you can," she said. "I hate
that you can't have real earrings until your piercings heal, but soon
we'll get you some nice hoops and danglies, ok?"
"OK," I said, and headed out to the car.
Ivy poked her head out of the door and said, "Oh Cara! When you're
getting your manicure done today, ask for a French manicure, and tell
them to use the new Axxium polish." A lady from the office across the
hall, on her way to the restroom, overheard and giggled.
"Wish I could get my nails done today," she said. "You look lovely, by
the way."
I grumbled a "thank you" and headed back out to the car. The Green Door
Spa was crowded, as usual, and Diane greeted me as I walked in.
"Hi, Cara," she said. Apparently the ever-efficient Ivy had told them
about the name change. "Marcia's ready, but wait just a second. I'll
take you back."
We walked back into the main area, where the manicure tables were lined
up opposite the hair stations. "Hey everybody, I need to make an
announcement!" said Diane. "Some of you met Kerry last week, and this
week, she has a new name -- Cara. And yes, we're to treat her as one of
the girls in every way," she said.
"Well helllooooo Miss Cara!" said my nemesis, Liz.
"Hi Liz."
Marcia intervened. "Well, let's get started. We need to get done so you
can go back for your waxing," she said.
"What are you having waxed?" another lady asked.
"Everything. Full Brazilian, or Hollywood, whatever you want to call
it," said Diane, who had already started toward the front. She
disappeared into the reception area.
"Well goodness," said Liz. "This IS a commitment. You're serious about
this, aren't you."
"So it would seem," I said as I sat down at Marcia's station. Marcia
removed the coral polish from the week before and said "wow, you got
into some stuff that was hard on your nails. Are you wearing gloves when
you work with them, like dishes and gardening? You need to. At least you
didn't break anything. So what are we doing today?"
"How about a French manicure? And Ivy said to ask for the new Ax ...
what is it?"
"Oh great! The new OPI Axxium polish. Do you know anything about it?"
she said.
"No, what is it?"
"Well, you know how a lot of ... people have false nails? A lot of those
are gel nails. The Axxium is a gel polish that won't come off with nail
polish remover. If we put it on you, you won't be able to remove it. Is
that what you want?" she said.
"Yes, that's fine," I said, remembering the rule about doing whatever
Ivy said.
"Cool! Well hold on and let me change my setup. I have to get the gel
products out." She moved several bottles and jars around. "Now here's
how it works. We'll cure the gel polish under this special ultraviolet
light, and you won't even have to worry about it drying. When you pull
your hand out of the light box, your polish will be indestructible, and
it'll protect your nails while they grow out," she said.
Liz chimed in from two tables away. "I've been meaning to ask about
that. So he ... I mean she won't be able to take it off? Suppose she
decides to go as a boy one day. She's stuck with the French manicure?"
"Until she gets in here to see me she is," said Marcia.
"Well, looks like you're going girl all the way. Well, uh, are you
REALLY going all the way?" Liz asked.
Marcia giggled. "Isn't that a little personal?"
"She's sitting here getting her nails done.She's getting a Brazilian wax
in a few minutes. I think it's a reasonable question," Ivy said.
"You're asking if she's getting the plumbing changed?" Marcia asked.
"Um, we're just taking it one step at a time," I said.
Characteristically, Liz wouldn't be deterred. "OK, one step at a time.
Boobs. You getting boobs?"
"I don't know," I said. "Eventually, I guess."
Liz pulled at her scooped neckline and pushed her breasts together to
emphasize the cleavage. "You gotta love these, right?" she said.
"Yes, of course," I said.
"So why wouldn't you want some of your own? Just think ... you could
play with them anytime you like!"
"She already has a toy she can play with any time she likes," said the
manicurist next to Marcia. That got a big laugh from every lady in the
room.
"So how about a tradeoff?" said Liz. "You get a cool new pair of toys,
and you give up one when they cut the hose off."
"Liz!" said Marcia, but she couldn't help laughing herself.
"Let's change the subject. See Cara? You're all done. Go ahead and touch
them. They're hard as can be!"
"Yes, men love touching things that are hard," said Liz, drawing another
uncomfortable laugh. "OK, I'll stop. Just sit still for a few minutes
while I finish drying," she said.
"Why does that matter?" I asked.
"Because she doesn't want to ruin her nails while she's waxing you,
silly," said Diane, who had overheard the conversation while ushering in
another client. "Here, do you mind waiting out front for a couple of
minutes? Marcia's one o'clock is here."
"You work here?" I asked Liz.
"Yep. You thought I was just a customer? I went to esthetician school,
and I do all the waxing here," she said. "You just relax a minute while
I dry and set up the waxing room."
I strolled out to the front and was about to sit down when Diane said,
"Oh, Cara, your color is all gone off your lips. You might want to
freshen them. We have some long-wear liquids. Would you like me to show
you some colors?"
"Not now, thanks. Maybe later," I said.
Liz appeared at the door. "Cara sweetie, I've got the room all set up
for your Brazilian. You know where the room is? Last on the right side.
Just go on back there, strip completely and lie on your back until I get
there," she said.
"She doesn't get a drape?" asked Diane.
"If she wants it. But for a full Brazilian, there's not much point,"
said Liz. Turning to me, she said, "Would you be more comfortable with a
drape, sweetie?" A customer waiting to be ushered in snickered.
"Yes, I think I might," I said in a much lower voice.
"Ok. There are some towels in there. Use one of those. A sheet's going
to be too much in the way. Now go!"
I went, and in couple of minutes I was lying on the table, with a towel
covering my crotch diaper style. Liz didn't keep me waiting.
"Well," she said, closing the door. "I guess you didn't see this coming.
The wax, yes, but you didn't know I worked here, did you?"
"No, I didn't," I said. I wanted to ask her why she suddenly dropped the
obnoxious loudmouth routine, but she beat me to it.
"I imagine you're a little confused. Well, gender, of course, but that's
not what I'm referring to. You're wondering why I called so much
attention to you out in the open salon," she said.
"It seemed a little insensitive," I admitted.
"So why don't you wear a wig?" Liz asked.
"I will eventually, but Edith feels that going without one for a while
will help me learn to handle the awkwardness," I said.
"Throwing you into the deep end of the pool," said Liz as she began
spreading wax across my shoulders.
"So to speak."
"How do you feel about it?" she asked.
"It's very uncomfortable, but I'll confess that I think I'll be more
secure in the change in the long run."
"And what change is that? Apart from my bugging you about it in the nail
area, how far are you going to take this? Are you going to have the big
surgery?" she asked. She had worked her way down to the bottom of my rib
cage and began doing my abdomen.
"I just don't know," I said. "It's expensive, and anyway, I'm not sure I
care to part with my boy parts."
"Speaking of which it's time." She pulled the towel away. "Yikes! That's
a hairy one. Wait just a sec." She opened the door and called out to one
of the shampoo girls: "Can you get me the pussy clippers, please?"
She turned back to me, leaving the door cracked but keeping herself
positioned between it and my privates. "It's really just a hair trimmer
with a little comb that we use just for this. For obvious reasons, we
don't use that on anybody's head, and we practice sanitation, so you
don't have to worry."
The girl knocked at the cracked door. "Come on in," Liz said. She took
the clippers from the girl, who gave me a brief smile before leaving and
closing the door behind her.
"I guess we should call it a genital hair trimmer, but up until now it's
been all pussies. I guess I've seen every pussy in town, including
Ivy's. I'm trying to talk Edith into letting me do hers. But anyway, to
get the cloth on the wax properly, I have to trim you back to about a
half inch. I'm going to have to move you around. Are you ok with that?"
I nodded.
"Good," she said, moving my dick and balls to one side. She kept one
hand on my organ and moved it around as the other ran the clippers
around my crotch. "And just like that, we're ready to resume waxing,"
she said. She began spreading wax on one side. "You realize, of course,
that this is going to hurt, right?" she said.
"I figured as much."
"Sorry, but there's no gentle way to do it," she said, jerking the cloth
away. I suppressed a scream.
"We're just getting started," Liz said. She stretched out my dick and
held up a mirror so I could see. "Everything has to come off. Well, all
the hair at least. See, underneath, everything on your testicles. We're
about to pull out hairs you didn't even know you had, so get ready. She
spread the hot wax over the front of my balls and up onto the base of my
dick, as she held it out of the way. I was embarrassed that it began to
get hard.
"So back to the question of everything coming off. You don't want to
part with this? It's not like there's much to it. With all this hair
gone, it's going to look like a five-year-old boy's ... equipment. Oh
my, you're starting to enjoy this!"
"Sorry," I said.
Liz laughed. "You're probably the first man ever to apologize for
getting hard! But let me ask you something," she said, keeping her hand
on my dick even though it was no longer necessary, as she was ready to
start on my legs. "You're doing this because you've always felt like a
girl at heart, right?"
"Pretty much," I said.
"You like wearing makeup?"
"Yes."
"And getting your nails done?"
"Yes."
"And wearing heels and perfume?"
I nodded.
"I'm going to break a rule to make a point. Do you mind if I put some
oil on it? I'll take that little jump as an OK, as if there was any
doubt." She filled one hand with the scented oil and rubbed her hands
together, then brought them down on my cock, moving them side to side. I
now had a raging hard-on. "Now, you want all the benefits of being
female, but you and I both know that if I finish what I'm doing, you'll
immediately lose all interest in dressing up. That's how males work."
"I don't care," I said.
She laughed. "I just bet you don't. Look down. I bet it's especially
nice seeing my hands with their newly done nails sliding around on it.
Let's see one of your hands. Yes, very pretty!" She took it and placed
it on top of her other hand, which held my dick. Then she slid her had
out from under my hand. "Go ahead," she said. "I bet it's nice,
masturbating with those lovely nails while a woman stands here watching.
After a few strokes, she stopped me.
"Now here's the deal. You can finish, but if you do, there are some
rules. First, we don't quit the waxing. But the second cum starts to
spurt out of that little thing, you're going to hate me and hate this
process. For a few hours, until it builds back up, you'll want to dress
and act like a male. The waxing will hurt twice as much, and there's no
way you're getting out of it. And you'll be mortified when you have to
dress up and go home. Isn't that true?"
I nodded.
"So what are you going to do?"
I took my hand away, and my dick stood straight up.
"See? That thing is totally incompatible with everything else you want
in your life. Why do you want to keep something that's in your way?"
For several minutes, neither of us said anything as she finished the
fronts of my legs. "Time to flip over," she said. I was relieved to at
least remove my "problem" from the center of attention.
"Big decision," I said finally.
"Very. Tell me, do you wish now that you had cum?"
"No, you were right."
"Is it all right with you if I discuss this little lesson with Edith and
Ivy?" she asked.
"I guess so."
"You realize they may think some changes are in order when they realize
just how a fully functional set of male parts can hold you back from
everything you're trying to accomplish."
"What are you suggesting?" I asked.
"Nothing. I'm just presenting the situation. There are several options.
Unfortunately, cutting it off anytime soon isn't one of them. Doctors
won't do sexual reassignment surgery until they're convinced you can't
be happy any other way, and that takes time. But there are drugs that'll
chemically castrate you. Oh, that's not a nice word. I mean you can take
a medicine that will reduce the temptation. Or they can lock it up."
"Lock it up?"
"They make devices that fit over your dick and make it impossible to
masturbate. How would you feel about that?"
"How do you think I'd feel?" I asked.
"Honestly? I think I just saw you on the verge of a huge orgasm, with
the mother of all hard-ons, and when I pointed out the effect it would
have on your transformation, you denied yourself. That tells me that you
want to be free of it."
"Well, that's something to think about, I guess."
"Yep. Well guess what ... we're done! And there's a surprise for you.
I'll be right back. Don't get dressed yet," Liz said. She went out and
returned with a hanger with a little black dress. In her other hand were
a pair of heels that had to be at least 5".
"This is a gift from Edith. She wants to you to wear this to meet her at
Club 40. You know where that is?"
I knew. Club 40 was the city's largest gay bar. Edith helped me into the
dress, which had spaghetti strips and a hem that was so short that I
worried about exposing myself and getting arrested.
"I'm supposed to wear this to Club 40? I'll get raped!" I said.
Liz laughed. "You'll have Edith there to protect you. But if you're
going to dress like a woman, you can't avoid mingling with the gay
community. Anyway, part of being a woman is knowing how to flirt and
pick up men. Now put this on and come on out to the front. Put your
other clothes on this hanger and just bring them out with you."
With that, she picked up the clothes I'd worn in, leaving me with
nothing but the indecent little black minidress and heels. Once I had it
on, I realized the dress was even shorter than it appeared, and the
spaghetti straps were not adjustable, so I couldn't make it any longer.
I put the other dress on the hanger and walked carefully to the front. I
got a big "Woo woo!!!" from Marcia as I walked by the nail stations.
"Wow, look at you!" said Diane.
"Really something, isn't she? Beautiful nails, great legs, incredible
heels. Oh honey, there is one thing I forgot," said Liz.
"What's that?" I asked.
"I'll need your panties."
"Huh?"
"You can just pull them down right here. Just reach under and pull them
over your heels. Sorry, but that's the rules, according to Ivy. Isn't
she the rule girl?"
"Apparently," I said, pulling the panties off and handing them to her.
"Now of course you realize that you'll have to do things a bit
differently. If you bend over forward in that dress, everyone will get a
very clear look at your ass and balls. If you need to pick up something,
bend your knees and keep your head straight up and knees together," said
Liz.
"Why can't I just wear the panties?"
"I don't know, but I suspect the idea is to teach you to walk and sit
like a lady. You have some sloppy habits from years of running around in
pants. You have to admit, being bare under that hemline will keep you
focused," said Liz. "Now run, you're due at Club 40 in 15 minutes. I
think they have something special planned for you, so have fun!"
End of Part IV
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