A Combination Of Events free porn video

A Combination of Events My name is Kelly and that in fact is the first in a series of coincidences that led to my current predicament. I live in a small city in the south of England. Technically it is a city but really it is more town sized if we are being honest. The town centre is genuinely very historic though. It is full of old Edwardian, Victorian, Jacobean and even Tudor and other old buildings. It still has the old stocks used for humiliating people who had committed some petty offence in the town square. It is your archetypal English town, surrounded by countryside and full of interesting history. It is a hit with the tourists and I think that starts with the Cathedral but the charm of the town is partly because of the extensive range of shops. The difference is that most of them are not chains and so the place has preserved more character than most towns these days. Unfortunately, like most retail areas the town was down on its luck because of the recession. Sales were significantly lower than in previous years and it was clear that something needed to be done. I worked at a large department store with my sister Emily and both our jobs were under threat if trade did not improve. I worked in the men's department and she worked in the ladies area. There were not many jobs in the area besides the ones we had. The Chamber of Commerce and the Local Town Councillors had pondered the fortunes of the town and had even obtained expert advice from a marketing guru on how to improve matters. The outcome was that the town needed a USP, that's marketing speak for a unique selling point. The Cathedral was apparently too old hat and left the place competing with other Cathedral Cities, many of which were larger and had their own unique offerings. The outcome of these deliberations was that every business in the retail area would ensure that all their staff wore historic costumes from the era 1850 to 1870, as this was the period from which the majority of buildings belonged. The Local Commissioners passed a byelaw enforcing this requirement and typical male and female clothing was specified in some detail. A breach of the dress code set out in the byelaw would result in a week in the stocks or a maximum ?5,000 fine. Everyone was united in making the idea work and so the fine was really thought to be more symbolic than necessary. The costumes were not cheap and had to be specially made to measure. Therefore each shop assistant had to sign an agreement with their employer that stated they would work for at least two years, or the cost of the costumes would be deducted from their salary if they left before the 2 years expired. The male costumes were ?1,500 and the women's were ?2,250 for a set of 3. The sale staff did not mind this because they realised that if the plan worked they would have a job and if not they would be made redundant, in which case nothing was repayable. Also the staff had to wear smart clothes that they themselves currently provided and so to have their work clothes provided free was regarded as a benefit even with the retention clause. The costumes were all going to be high quality and made to measure and the plan could not be rolled out immediately as there was a three month lead-in on manufacture and delivery of the costumes. So the first step was to be measured and a 30min appointment was made for every shop assistant. I dutifully reported for my measuring, signed the addendum to my employment contract and Stacy the costumier started to take my measurements. She was very thorough, arms, legs, chest, neck, waist, chest, torso, shoe size, calfs, thighs, everything. I said "I've never been so thoroughly measured". She commented that I was a slight build for a young man and I could see she thought I was a bit wimpy. I was 112lbs, very thin and only 5'7" tall so I had to admit I was not the most macho of male specimens. She measured my waist at 28" and my hips 34" and said I would look very elegant in my page boy style outfits. She commented that purple, mauve and lavender would best suit my colour and added that she might do something in pink as that was regarded as a boys colour in the day. I was not so sure about that. She had just finished writing up my form when there was an enormous crash. She turned around and we saw almost in slow motion that the cat had knocked over a mannequin, that in turn landed on a vase and that in turn had landed on the floor and broken. "Oh my, oh my" she said. "Naughty pussy!" and the cat looked suitable innocent. She placed my form on a pile of others and I heard a knock at the door and that was the next appointment. The 3 months passed slowly and we all waited with interest for the arrival of the costumes. The women were particularly excited as the clothes of that era were very feminine. Long skirts, cut quite tight, a bustle and then a tight bodice either low cut to reveal some bosom or running to a high collar. Most had long sleeves with ornate cuffs. They were equally excited that they would have to wear corsets. They complained at the prospect, but secretly they seemed to relish the thought. They had been advised to diet to make the corsets more comfortable and as a group they had collectively encouraged each other on in this regard. They had even organised some evening aerobics classes at the stores own gym. They were equally excited at the shoes. Well boots really. These all had 4" heels and were knee length. They said that the heel was too tall for daily shop work but I think the chap specifying the clothing must have liked women in high heels and took no notice. This requirement had actually been written into the byelaw and passed by the majority male Committee as well as being added to the employment contracts. "Typical men" they commented, but again I sensed they were really quite pleased. Another controversial requirement was that the corsets had to be at least 12" smaller than the hips. A point I had not really registered at the time. The eventful day arrived and we were all handed parcels at the end of our shift on Saturday and told to report as usual at 8.30am in our new costumes on Monday morning for in inspection. We each had 3 complete costumes to allow for dry cleaning and to add a bit of variety as well as to allow for simple wear and tear. I looked at mine and it was addressed to "Ms Kelly Jones". Strange, I thought, must be a typo. I also noticed that my parcel was larger than the other male assistants. I thought no more about this at the time. We arrived home and my mother was keen to greet my sister and I. We both retired to our bedrooms and undid our parcels. I could hear my mother and my sister delighted at Emily's costume and a good hour passed before they knocked on my door. Emily came in and was truly stunning. She was a similar height to me and a very shapely but slim figured girl. She was clad from head to toe in a stunning pale blue silken gown. It gripped her hips and hung beautifully to reveal a glimpse of white leather boot at the floor. Her waist was amazing and I could not stop staring. It was sculpted almost impossibly small and flared up to present an ample bosom, more ample that I recall she actually had. Her hair was always beautiful and cascaded in delicate curls. She had a black velvet choker and pendant earrings in blue with delicate bangles and a decorative broach with matching ornate watch. She wore her name badge with pride "Emily". "Wow" I said, "you look fantastic". "Thanks, it is the most beautiful and expensive dress I have ever worn" she sparkled. "What about your costume, do you need a hand to get dressed?" they chimed. "There has been some kind of terrible mistake" I replied. "They have given me women's costumes." My mom looked shocked and approached the open packages. I had three stunning gowns all in silk, one lavender, one purple and one in a delicate pink. I also had a selection of corsets and some high heel boots, also in a light pink. "Oh dear" she said. "What a pity because the dresses look so beautiful." "Now what?" I exclaimed. We decided that the best course of action was to write a note to the shop manager Mrs Clark and explain that I could not come in on Monday because unfortunately the wrong sex costumes had been delivered by mistake. I recalled the incident with the cat and added that I thought the seamstress had been distracted and put my form on the wrong pile, my name, I assumed had stopped the mistake being picked up so I had been provided with dresses instead of the page boy outfits. I realised that if I went in without a costume there was a risk I would fall foul of the byelaw regarding the stocks or an enormous fine. Mrs Clark was a reasonable women and I felt sure she would understand and I ended the letter by respectfully asking for her advice. Perhaps I had misjudged the severity of the recession and the trading conditions. Her letter read: "Dear Kelly, I am very sorry about the mix up with the costumes. I regret to inform you that the shop cannot afford to order replacements at present as this initiative represents our stores last hope of survival and all spare reserves have been committed. Even if we could we could afford to order replacement costumes for you we could not afford to lose a shop assistant for 3 months whilst they arrived. According to the contract you signed you are obliged to attend work in the costume provided or alternatively you can resign. However if you do resign, I need to remind you about the clause that requires repayment for the costume, in your case that would be ?2,250. Whilst this places us all in an unusual situation, the costume should fit you and we expect to see you tomorrow to assess its suitability. I also need to remind you that unauthorised absences from work can lead to your dismissal for misconduct however given that you were unsure how to take matters forward I am overlooking your absence on Monday. Yours Sincerely Mrs Clark. Store Manager? I was shocked. The following day I called in sick, which was true in a way. The trouble was I could not go to the doctor as I was not actually sick and equally I knew I could only self certificate my sickness for 5 days under company rules or I could be dismissed for misconduct and in that event the Contract was clear that the cost of the costume was still repayable. That meant I would have to go in on Monday or I would be dismissed. At least my pretend illness brought me some time to figure out what to do. I reasoned with my mother ?surely this is against employment law or my human rights?? she thought I could be right and so we visited a legal advisor. He studied the contract and said ?this is a very unusual case, normally if someone arrives at work unannounced dressed as the opposite sex that could be grounds for dismissal but in this case the opposite has happened.? He went on, ?Looking at the contract you signed it does not state you must wear a ?male? costume supplied by the company just ?the costume?, technically if you fail to comply they could both dismiss and re-charge you the cost of the costume they have supplied. That is very clear in the contract? ?It is true that the contract does say male costumes are chargeable at ?1,500 and female ones at ?2,250 however it does not place an obligation on them to supply the costume of a gender that matches the signatory.? He went on ?In fact it specifically says ?any costume they supply??. ?I am sorry but you only appear to have one choice ? ?Resign and pay them ?2,250. Be aware though that they could take you to court if you do not work your notice, so to be sure you should really work a month anyway. That said, it is unusual for employers to take action in those circumstances so you could take a risk on that point. I suppose you could spend the month in the stocks for breach of the byelaw or accept a fine but that might still not absolve you of the months work you would owe them as strictly speaking you are required to work out your notice not avoid it by falling foul of a local byeway. It is coming up to the winter and a month in the stocks would be most unpleasant so your best option is probably to resign and hope they don't sue. The other option is to,.....(he saw my expression and thought better about finishing that sentence)..... sorry I cannot be more helpful.? My mother and I looked dumbfounded, she thanked the lawyer for his advice and left. On the way home I pointed out that I had just been paid and as I did not earn that much and I had outstanding credit card commitments so effectively I had about ?50 once those were factored in. To cut a long story short, I simply did not have ?2,250 to give them as I was living on arrears using my credit card. ?I suppose there is another option? said mother, ?What?? I exclaimed? increasingly annoyed at my predicament. ?Well, you could call their bluff and wear the costume.? ?That?s ridiculous? I said angrily. ?Well yes? she said ? I agree it is faintly ridiculous, however if you look like a boy in a dress they might relent, and the worst case is they might make you redundant and then you would not have to pay them, in fact they would have to pay you your notice period and some redundancy money.? She had a point. ?But,.. but,... I can?t go out wearing women's clothes, I will be a laughing stock of the town and a freak.? ?Maybe, but if we tell everyone the circumstances they will be sympathetic and it would be in the interests of the town if this initiative succeeds, also people are a lot more broadminded these days you know. Some women actually like to see men willing to explore their feminine side.? ?But, but? ?I would help you and I am sure your sister would take care of you at work too....it might be fun.? ?Fun? what about my friends?, they would desert me??, I retorted. ?If they really are your friends they will understand and support you, if not, you won?t have lost anything.? she reasoned. I sulked the rest of the way home. The idea was too horrible to contemplate but the logic of the choices that faced me was undeniable. Mum was right as usual. I locked myself in my room to sulk and had a fitful sleep. Each time I woke I thought it must all have been a bad dream but then I looked across at the costume boxes and knew it was real. My brain went over the situation again working on a way out. The following day I was no better and stayed in my room watching day time TV feeling very depressed. Oprah Winfrey had three men on her show who liked to dress as women,....drag queens, they were called. I had to admit they looked good, almost better than real women in a way. I also observed that the women in the audience were not repulsed but actually found these men very interesting. After the show, I approached one of the horrible boxes containing the costumes. I picked up one of the gowns. My hands were shaking. I had to admit they were truly stunning creations. I held it up to myself in front of the mirror. I felt sick. I was also slightly turned on?.hadn?t expected that. The waist looked impossibly small and I put the gown on my bed and spanned my hand across it. I reckoned it was not much over 20?. How would I ever fit into that? I looked in the box and found 3 pastel pink corsets. They were sturdily made garments and there was a mass of hooks and eyes and what seemed like a mile of pink lace. I picked one up and noticed how it looked like some kind of medieval torture device. Then I noticed a note in the box. ?Dear Kelly, we noticed your waist would have been 22? based on the minimum hip to waist reduction permitted under the byelaw and your revised employment contract. However given that your waist is quite ample compared to your hips we have taken the liberty of reducing your corsets and gowns to 20? to give you more classic proportions. I hope you will look fabulous in your new gowns but recommend that you wear your corsets 24/7 for at least 48 hours, during which time you should not eat. We recommend you start by lacing yourself into 24" and gradually lace them tighter. We also noticed your breasts where quite slight and have put some silicon falsies in to enhance your figure. You can insert these into your bra. Hope you do not mind these extra touches but it should help you fill out the gown and look like a truly stunning Victorian lady. Have fun! Signed - Your caring seamstress, Extraordinary Historical Gowns Ltd.? I gulped. The challenge was even more hideous than I had thought. My mum came in with a cup of tea. I looked embarrassed. She ignored my embarrassment but had obviously noticed I had taken a gown out, she asked ?would you like some lunch or if you want to try the corset I suggest you might want to skip lunch?? I was silent. She said ?We could give it a try and if you look stupid we could forget the whole thing.? She left me to contemplate. I drank my tea, my mind was blank. She returned and said ?Do you need a hand??, the implication was clear enough. What she meant was shall I help you dress up as a women? I nodded......?Only a trial though.? I figured I would look so ridiculous that I would force their hand and then I would probably be made redundant but that was still a better option than resigning and ending up in serious debt with no job. She smiled brightly. "Well first things first we need to get you out of those clothes and might I suggest a bath?" She went to run the bath and I undressed and took a towel with me. Once in, it she said that I would need to shave my legs and arm pits and helped me lather up and shave. I was not that hairy but it still felt odd to be completely hairless and smooth. I asked her what the smell was and she said she had perfumed the water. ?Lavender, it is good for relaxation.? She helped me wash my hair which I wore quite long. I got out of the bath and I dried myself off. She blow dried my hair and I enjoyed the combing and the attention. It seemed softer than usual. I noticed in the mirror it was fuller and actually more feminine than I usually wore it. I normally aimed for the greasy pony tail look. She sprayed me with some perfume and handed me some talc. I had not felt this soft or smelt this good for a long time. She said she had been giving the challenge some thought and recommended I wear a panty girdle underneath my costume. ?This will give you some initial shape, hold your breasts and also provide a slippery surface for the corset to be pulled over which should make tightening it easier.? She explained. She held out a skin coloured elastic creation which I recognised was a women's panty girdle. I felt sick but stepped into it. She suggested I tuck my penis backwards. I have looked on the internet and that is what they do. ?They?? I asked, ?Female impersonators? she replied, diplomatically. I obliged and noticed that I now had a decidedly feminine looking crotch. ?That?s neater? she said, pleased with the initial success. She handed me the silicon falsies and I inserted them into the waiting cups. She helped me get them orientated correctly and then adjusted the straps of the girdle to give some modest tension. I caught a glimpse in the mirror and I observed that I already looked like I had a women's body with hairless legs extending from my crotch and a pleasing bosom thrusting forth. The girdle had pulled my waist in slightly and my hair did not detract from the illusion, although my face still looked slightly boyish. ?Now for the corset?this is going to take some getting used to.? She said sympathetically. ?I have only worn one myself once or twice and they were always more of a pleasure to take off than to wear.? She commented. She held it up to me and fastened it around my middle with a row of about 7 heavy hooks and eyes at the front. The laces were already threaded but left with a considerable gap at the back. The corset extended from a slight ?V? at my abdomen to cups that supported my new breasts. The pastel pink colour shouted femininity and I could hardly believe I was about to be laced into my first corset wearing a panty girdle and smelling rather fragrant too. She gently tugged on the laces and I felt my waist slowly reduce. To begin with it was a pleasant squeezing sensation, almost an embrace, and then it started to hamper my breathing. ?Enough? I gasped. ?Oh dear? she replied. ?You have about 4? to go? ?4? I exclaimed? ?Fraid so, yes.? She read the note and pondered what to do. ?Interesting, they actually did the same thing to your sister Emily. We are evidently not going to get this fully tightened on day one but we do have the advantage that you have four more days before you need to report for work and so we can aim to reduce it at about 1? per day. Provided you don't eat much we should get there.? She handed me some stockings and helped me roll them and smooth them up my legs to avoid snagging them. I found this very arousing but luckily my penis was well and truly secured under me and by the pull of the girdle. She attached the eight suspenders to the corset and showed me how to clip the stockings onto them. Stockings and suspenders looked so definitely feminine. My legs appeared better than I had ever seen them. They were beautiful legs that belonged to my dream women. They ended at a feminine crotch and my breasts moved in and out as I breathed. I was so confused. I was in some kind of trance. It got worse. She said ?you are going to have to have a crash course in wearing high heels and will have to start straight away if you are going to be fit to walk on Monday.? She offered up the beautiful high heeled boot to my right foot and carefully laced it up and then repeated the process on the other foot. They felt tight on my feet and held them in a position I was not accustomed to. I could stand, but my steps were stilted and a little awkward. ?You are doing well Kelly?. She said encouragingly. I was suddenly reminded that Kelly is a boys name but it is also a girls name. Right now it suddenly sounded so much more like a girls name. I blushed. ?I will never manage this? I protested. ?Patience? she said. "You have only been trying for 5 minutes and can already walk, some women never master them!" She disappeared and returned with a black stretchy skirt and a cream silk blouse. ?Well?, she reasoned we are not going to get you into one of the dresses today but we can hardly put you in trousers and a tea shirt when you look like a burlesque dancer! I was not sure I agreed with the logic or appreciated the observation but I stepped into the skirt and put the blouse on. The buttons buttoned the wrong way around, the girls way. She tucked the blouse into the skirt and fetched a wide patent leather belt and placed that around my waist, pulling it as tight as she could. I looked in the mirror and observed my new shapely form. Apart from my still boyish face the rest of the effect was very feminine and I was more women than man by far. I could not help sticking my bum out to one side and putting my hands on my waist. Mum smiled. I then ran my hands down my hips and she said ?Stop fondling yourself?. I blushed some more but was not unhappy. In actual fact I felt strangely content, almost complete. I had always wanted to be able to run my hands over a women's curves and now I could. It occurred to me that far from calling their bluff I might actually make a reasonably attractive sales girl. Emily arrived in from work and still looked stunning in her costume. Mum had already texted her the news of my trial and she eagerly asked ?Well where is she then? Lets see her!? I appeared somewhat sheepishly. She said ?Wow, you look sensational and gave me a re- assuring hug.? I felt our breasts touch. ?What about some make-up?? ?We should do her nails!? ?No? I said sternly, ?I am only trialling this to see how I feel about the idea and I do not want to take it too far. Besides my waist has a long way to go and stop referring to me as she and her.? Mum explained the waist issue. Emily looked concerned. ?That is a big reduction.??. ?You are not alone, some of the ladies at work are having major problems and apparently the best way forward is to exercise in the corset. This helps lose weight and also helps your body adjust to the new shape.? ?Actually they are having a ?Corset? party tonight to dance, do aerobics and generally help pull each other in. Some had to leave their gowns undone and wear a wide sash to cover the fact. Mrs Clark has threatened them with docked pay unless they come up to scratch. She has claimed that technically they are not actually wearing their costumes.? ?Lets go, it will be fun Kelly?, said Emily. ?No way? I protested. "It might be an idea to get the ladies on side first." observed mother. 2 hours later Mum dropped us off at the venue of the ?corset party?. It was at the stores own gym. Emily had pre-warned the ladies of my predicament and received nothing but offers of help, encouragement and support. I entered the gym in trepidation but the ladies seemed genuine pleased to see me and were very encouraging and supportive. ?You make a beautiful girl? ?You are so petite.? ?I think I prefer you like this.? ?Don't worry, you are one of the girls now, we will take care of you.? I got a lot of hugs too. Perhaps mum was right, women apparently do like men who are in touch with their feminine side. I really enjoyed the experience at a number of levels. The women were all stripped down to their corsets and suspenders and sported their new high heels. They were very relaxed and to be honest all of them looked good. I did not know where to look as seeing my work colleagues for first time in their underwear was rather overwhelming but I realised I was getting as many interested looks as I was giving and soon I felt less self conscious and just blended in. The plumper ones had the most trouble but all had good figures. We chatted about who had what waist reduction and they gossiped about who had the prettiest dress. They even wanted to know what colour and style mine were and said how much they were looking forward to seeing me. We did some dancing, drank gin and wine and got steadily merrier. In between dances we pulled at each others laces. There was a loud cheer if anyone managed to get their corset fully closed. After one dance, two of the larger women pulled at my laces together and with encouragement from those around I felt the corset slip mercilessly tighter over the sheer stretchy fabric of the panty girdle. ?About 2? left to go.? One of the ladies, Fiona, had a friend who owned a hairdressers and offered to get me an appointment for the weekend to help complete my new look. I said I would get back to her but at present I was still hoping Mr Clark might relent and I did not want to take the look too far. ?You already look too good? she said. She had a point, but I was not ready to concede yet. The corset felt very tight and my body ached. My feet also hurt and my calfs were like fire from the strain of continually wearing high heels and using different muscles. ?That?s all normal? said mom, ?you are bound to have some initial adjustment pains, us women have to suffer for our fashion you know.? I did not find that remark particularly re- assuring or helpful. I slept in my corset in a pink satin night gown my mum lent me. Mum gave me some aspirin and some sleeping pills to ensure I slept ok. I noticed that she had unpacked the gowns and other corsets and had moved some of my male clothes out of my wardrobe to make room for them. My wardrobe was not that big and was now about 40% female. The next day my waist still hurt and mum suggested I have another bath before re-corseting. This helped. My corset went back on even tighter and I had 1 ?? to go with 3 days left. ?Only ?? a day then, said mum? She handed me some fishnet stockings, a denim skirt and pink woolly top with a large polo neck that hung down. The demin skirt was a size 10 and fitted nicely around my waist. She said ?it was one of Emily?s but Emily has grown out of it.? It was knee length and quite tight. I loved the way it held my legs together and limited my gait. It accentuated my bottom and made me feel very sexy although I did not admit that to anyone but myself. The fish net stockings were very feminine too and somehow made my legs seem ultra sexy. Even the top was uniquely feminine because it was pink and the droopy polo neck was a style that only women wear. I noticed that I could not get my hands in the skirt pockets as it hugged my hips so firmly. I started to understand that women's fashions are more about look than practicality. I spent Friday happily helping mum clean the house. I vacuumed and dusted. To be honest I felt very sexy and I enjoyed wiggling my hips and practicing in my high heeled boots. I was getting reasonably confident in them and I was getting steadier on my feet although they remained sore. My penis would have leapt into life but of course was trapped in its nylon confines. My waist was also fairly numb and continued to ache. I had still not eaten, but was drinking tea and had some soup for lunch. After lunch, I managed to go to the toilet. I checked my weight which was down to 106lbs. I asked mum if she would have another go at the laces. I lay flat on the bed and she carefully untied and re-pulled all the laces working from the top and bottom to my waist. Another 3/4? waist reduction resulted. It was apparent that the corset was also shaping my torso as that too seemed smaller. She said, ?now only just over 1/4? per day in the remaining two days, you are nearly there.? I slept in my corset again and bathed as per my new routine on Saturday morning. After re-lacing and gaining another 1/4", mum produced a beige leather skirt and a leopard print leotard. She unhooked the suspenders from the corset and handed me some sheer tights to try in beige. I rolled these up my legs and loved the way they moulded to my hips, crotch and waist. The corset had caused a slight bump on my stomach which looked so typically female. I looked so girly. She helped me pull the leotard over my head and showed me how the crotch fastenings worked. The leotard pulled at my crotch and clung to my new curves. I felt so sexy. I stepped into the leather skirt which was silk lined. It was knee length and quite tight. "Size 8" mum informed me. I had to wiggle my hips to get it passed my bottom, which seemed somehow larger, but the sheer tights and spandex leotard helped. Once clear she zipped me up at the back and the skirt neatly held my much reduced waist. ?This was one of Emily?s favourite clubbing outfits. She has long grown out of it and I am just glad I have not thrown out all her old clothes.? Mum produced some leopard skin high heels with a small platform to match the top. "These actually have a 5" heel and if you can manage these, the boots will be a doddle." There was something about the leather skirt that was very thrilling. It encased my hips, restricted my gait and each time I stood up I had to learn to pull it down and smooth it out. ?You are doing very well? said mum, ?how do you feel?? ?I feel very strange but overall the experience is not that bad and I suppose it is good to know what women go through to look good.? I said trying to sound analytical, unconcerned and objective. Emily back from work and was impressed with my progress ?I think he looks very sexy, I wish I could still get into that skirt, it cost me ?50! Are you ready for the make up and nails yet?? she said, looking mischievous. ?Still only a trial? I insisted trying to look disinterested. "Pity" she said, "I so wanted to have a baby sister to practice on." I was meant to be going out on Saturday night, as I enjoyed playing snooker and it was club night. Dave had already called to see if I wanted a lift. I said I was not feeling too good and would call him back. What to do.... Mum suggested donning my jeans and a jumper and of course removing the falsies. I tried this but my crotch looked all wrong and my jeans no longer fitted properly. My breasts still seemed to show through the jumper, due to the cups of the corset, even though I had removed the falsies. "You could try these." she suggested whilst rummaging through bags of Emily?s discarded clothes, handing me a pair of Emily's old jeans. These fitted me much better and held my penis even tighter than before, although I kept that point to myself. Providing you wear a top that goes over your crotch people should not notice you are wearing women's jeans. I had a leather jacket that did the trick as it also covered my corset cup marks. I wore a polo shirt and light jumper over my corset. The jeans had boot style legs and were longer than my legs. "They are designed to be worn with high heels so that they cover the shoes and nearly touch the ground." Emily pointed out. "We will have to fold them up." Once adjusted and pinned in place I looked suitably male once again and put my hair in a pony tail, which somewhat ironically now was my previous normal male look. Dave collected me and the evening went well. He was surprised I only sipped whisky though. Normally I went for lager but would never have managed the volume or the gas being as tightly corseted as I was. I was also keen to avoid needing the toilet. Sunday was make or break time with one of the dresses. I bathed again and re-shaved the limited hair growth on my legs and under arms. Talced and perfumed, the girls were relishing the challenge of squeezing me into one of the outfits. They re-laced me and had me wonder about the house and stretch and then tightened the laces some more, "Nearly closed", they announced gleefully. My waist was still rather numb but the extra tightening did not seem to make much further difference other than my hips seemed to swing more, the more my waistline was nipped in. I wore stockings with a purple hue and Emily handed me a slip. This was elasticated and hugged my legs and waist. It even had a crotch which further suppressed my penis. Mum held out the purple dress and I stepped into its rustling skirt whilst she worked it up me. I wiggled and she commented that the corset had made my bum bigger. Thanks to the nylon and the silky material of the gown it slipped passed my bottom. I put my arms out instinctively and the she offered the sleeves up. The silk slipped easily onto my arms. The gown was stunning. It had detailed stitching and a wide band around the waist. It had a high collar that encircled my throat and this was hooked together at the back. I asked how on earth I would get to the toilet if I needed it. ?You can?t? said mum with a grin. ?Emily or one of the other ladies will have to go with you to the ladies and help you unhook your dress.? As mum eagerly continued doing the hooks up working from the top down the gown increasingly tightened around my breasts and my bodice. I was still thinking about that last point, mum was right I would have to use the ladies. Emily moved to do up the 5 buttons that held the cuffs at my wrists. "Ah" said mum. "Not quite there, I'm afraid, the corset obviously has to be completely tight and there is still a 1/2" gap. They checked my measurements and sure enough I was 20 1/2", not the required 20". They reversed the process and I was handed some sheer black tights and a proper black leotard. I stepped into the legs and pulled this up and onto my arms. It was black spandex and quite tight, clinging to every curve. "You are really very shapely" remarked Emily, reaching out to hold my waist and admiring my curves. "Thanks" I said, for reasons that escaped me. "But apparently not quite shapely enough". The black sheer tights that had replaced my stockings, together with the neat crotch of the leotard came together to a very girly mound, rounded tummy, impossibly small waist and neat pair of breasts. "We are going to have to do some exercise" they proclaimed. So, wearing some patent leather black strappy 1" platform shoes with a 6" heel we danced to Kylie for about an hour. After this I was re-bathed and re- corseted. I was not even allowed a drink. The two girls both pulled together and oppositely at my laces and eventually declared the corset closed. This time, I stepped into the gown and even though I had to wiggle slightly more for it to clear my bum, the hooks at the back were all successfully done up. It occurred to me that as I could not reach the hooks I was actually trapped in the gown until someone kindly released me. The helplessness only seemed to emphasise my new status as a member of the fairer sex. The gown clung to my womanly hourglass form. It was tightly cut so that my gait was limited, and there was a small train that extended slightly behind me at my feet. The bustle was added at the back that comprised some large flouncy bows and this emphasised my bottom and was another very feminine touch. I recognised the style from those period dramas you get on TV. Mum placed a purple ribbon in my hair and a pearl necklace, ornamental watch and broach were added. My name tag "Kelly" was also pinned on to complete the outfit. Mum and Emily were enthusiastic in their praise. The only problem was that I was known locally and whilst a stranger would see a beautiful 18 yr old women my friends might well still recognise me by my face. "You really need make-up and a few finishing touches" Emily helpfully advised. "This is still only a trial." I retorted trying to defend my only remaining unfeminised features. That said, these were also the only remaining hope of my plan to call their bluff. After a few hours practice in the dress I changed into another one of Emily's old skirts and tops. The skirt was denim, but faded black. I wore a purple blouse with this and the black strappy platforms. Mum, showed me my wardrobe and said she had been able to add some more of Emily's old hand me downs which were still fashionable but a little small for Emily. I noticed that most of my wardrobe was now female, even the jeans and tee shirts. "Oh" said mum. ?I remembered we have this old full length black leather coat. It is a ladies one but will be ideal for tomorrow as it will cover your dress whilst travelling.? The trip to the store was a nervous one. Not only was I wearing a spectacular and ultra feminine outfit in broad daylight in public, but I did not know how my male colleagues or Mrs Clark would react and I was also concerned about being recognised as a man or as Kelly by my friends. This was not helped by the fact that I was wearing a name badge with "Kelly" written on it! And was it really ok to use the ladies toilet? Arriving at the store, the other assistants were supportive. Some of the males grinned or rather smirked at me and at each other but conceded I looked good and offered the odd subtle wolf whistle of appreciation. Mrs Clark met me and said "Feeling better?" as she looked me up and down. "Yes, maam, I had a touch of flu" I lied, avoiding any reference to the fact that I was now presenting myself as a sales girl rather than a male sales assistant. "You have scrubbed up well, I think you make a smarter female shop assistant than ever you did as a male. The only problem I can see is where to put you today, you can't work in the men's department any longer looking like that." She was thoughtful for a moment?.."I know", she said, "you can be the greeter." I hoped the ground would swallow me up. I was already feeling very self conscious and my job, she explained was to stand at the main door with a dainty basket under my arm and hand a flower to each customer and greet them. "Good morning. My name is Kelly, the store has a new policy requiring all assistants to wear historic costumes and I am dressed as a Victorian lady for your pleasure. Please enjoy the store and don't hesitate to approach an assistant if you need any advice."...smile. I used the softest most feminine voice I could muster. This routine went down well. I greeted a few people who I vaguely knew but they did not recognise me. The men were obviously quite taken with my breasts and waist as they could not seem to take their eyes off them. Then my heart sank. Dave appeared. Half way through my routine he interrupted and said, "Kelly is that really you?, you look so beautiful." "No" I lied, you must be mistaken. ?There is a Kelly in the men's Department.? He smiled an unconvincing smile. Mrs Clark kindly relented and I spent the afternoon in the lingerie section, if that was an improvement. I took a new interest in all the items which whilst previously a mystery were now starting to make perfect sense. Worryingly I was imagining myself wearing some of them. I was not embarrassed by the customers, as I had tended to be when I was dressed as a male and had to walk through that area, but I was more embarrassed by the assistants who knew I was male. After an hour or so they got bored though and I just blended in. Jessica gave me a tour of the area and explained the pros and cons of the various items and how to advise the customers. Then Beverly and Jessica started talking about their weekend and the sex they had enjoyed and about the men they had slept with and what they had worn. They did not seem to mind I was overhearing a very female conversation and asked if I would be getting a boyfriend. Before I could answer that thankfully, Fiona came up to me and interrupted and said "you really ought to go for that appointment at my friend?s hairdressers, you look fabulous but she could really finish you off." I agreed. Why did I agree? She made a quick call and said 10am Wednesday. So it was set and I nodded dumbly whilst also trying to look appreciative. Wednesday morning, on my day off, I would go for a full makeover, what ever that is. I tried to work out why I had agreed. I suppose she was being friendly and helpful and it would seem rude to keep saying no. Plus the encounter with Dave had left me unsure whether to stay a little male or to take further steps to look more convincing. It seemed to me my plan to call their bluff had rather backfired as I was a better girl than a boy and I really had no way out so I figured I might as well embrace the change and make a good job of it. I told myself I might as well look the part until I had saved the ?2,250, then I could resign and revert to my male life. That?s what I told myself anyway. So it was on Wednesday, mum and I made our way to the hairdressers. Zoe was a punkette, and was a very attractive girl, but was also regarded as one of the best stylists in town, I learnt. I introduced myself as Kelly a friend of Fiona?s. Zoe stopped in her tracks and her mouth dropped open. "Wow, you look great" she said with more than a hint of surprise in her voice, as it clearly dawned on her she was actually looking at a man dressed as a women. I was wearing a red leather skirt and black silk blouse under my long leather coat. I had the strappy black shoes on as whilst these were tight, I could control them easily and I felt confident walking in them. I was wearing10 denier black sheer pantyhose and my legs did, I have to admit look long and hot. "So a full make over" she said. "Yes please" I said, wondering how in a week and I half I had gone from slob about town to the local hotty. She took my coat and invited me to put my arms in a pink smock that fastened at the back. "We don't want to get anything on your skirt or blouse.....we need to getting a move on as there is lots to do" she smiled. First a hair wash. She blow dried my hair, just like mum had. Then she started working on my scalp. ?I am sewing in hair extensions?, she explained. ?These are real human ones. They will bulk out and lengthen your hair so we can go for the big hair look, in??light mahogany I think? and she pointed to a colour chart. That colour was one I loved on women, but then I reasoned that is partly because you never see it on men. That is an ?all women? hair colour. My thoughts of playing snooker again were fading fast, was I going too far? 3 hours later I had long flowing curls in light mahogany. My hair shone like it had never done before. The cut and whole look was very feminine. Who was I kidding, my whole look was now female. However that thought was soon proven incorrect as there was more to come. "Hold still" she said. "Ouch" five ouches later, I had triple gold studs neatly arranged in each ear. "Had to go for three each" she remarked. ?Some men have one in each but only women ever have three and only the adventurous ones at that.? My penis twitched involuntarily. Apparently I was not only now unmistakeably a women but an adventurous one at that. Strangely I could not help thinking of how delighted Emily and mum would be. I was sure Emily only had one in each ear and it occurred to me I was now a more fashionable girl than my sister. Mum was going to pick me up a 3pm, that time could not come soon enough and I was concerned what else Zoe would have done to me by then. 2 hours left. The next stage was the foot pedicure followed by the three coats of bright red nail varnish and lacquer. Then she applied some acrylic nails to my fingers and explained that the new glue was so strong that she had never known one to come off. There is a special solvent we use and once a fortnight you will need to get them replaced. These 1/2" nails were left a natural colour with a white tip. This, I realised was the fashionable way for a girl about town to wear her nails these days. It occurred to me that my week of living as a female was now scheduled to last at least 2 more weeks due to the nails alone. What about the hair colour? Where was all this heading? "Now for the make up, but first we need to thin out those bushes" she said pointing at my fairly thin albeit admittedly boyish eyebrows. With her bangles jangling away as she moved, she applied some cream, she explained it would numb the pain and started plucking in a very considered way with some special tweezers. 30 minutes later I had two very thin highly sculpted eye brows that could only belong to a women. She said "I will just treat your top lip too,?.. this electrolysis plucking should be permanent but it depends whether we have caught the hairs just right and some say it is whether they are in growth mode at the time of treatment. Anyhow I have found the treatment to be at least 75% effective in stopping re-growth and we can mop up any strays on your next visit." The implication of what she had just said slowly dawned on me. She had nearly completed my upper lip and so, I reasoned there was no point in being rude about the fact that I had just been permanently given high arching and very feminine looking eyebrows. Part of me did not mind, part of me was terrified, part of me was annoyed. "This will hurt" she said picking up a syringe and jabbing it into my lip. "It makes them plump up" she explained. ?I am not sure you want this every time but it gives you an idea of what is possible.? She asked me to open my mouth and got me to bite down onto two plastic things that looked like gums. She curled my eyelashes, applied foundation, eyeliner, mascara, blusher and after removing the gum like inserts and getting me to swill my mouth she finished my look with some light red lipstick. Whilst she was staring intently into my eyes I did not miss the opportunity to do the same back. Zoe was a very attractive girl. It was not every day that I got this close to one and she did not seem to mind as she was focussed on her work and where else could I look anyway. She informed me that the girls in the store where I worked had had a whip around and she would be sending me home with a range of makeup all of my own. "Emily and your mum will help, but the look I am giving you is just to show you how feminine your face can be made to look in about 20 minutes." She handed me a mirror and I saw a very attractive women looking back at me. My eyes looked enormous. My lips looked plump and totally kissable. My face looked sculpted, very chic and very feminine. My teeth were white which only served to emphasise my red lips. She helped me out of my smock beaming with pride at the result. If anything my hair and head now looked more feminine than my stunningly curvaceous hourglass body. "I reckon you are a 10" she quipped. "Like you" I retorted, surprised at my own quickness. This remark took her by surprise but after a blank expression and a stare she managed a beaming smile as two equally beautiful women admired one another. I went to pay and she said, "that's ?220 please?. Your girlfriends have paid ?50 for you so that leaves ?170 left to pay. I couldn't believe how much women spent on such things. I handed her my credit card realising that so far my plan to save enough money so that I could afford to resign was probably further away than when I had started the trial. You will need to return for a touch up every 2 weeks for the nails and maybe the hair, and the extensions will need tightening, but don't worry its more like ?75 a visit from now on as the main work is done and you are all totally femmed up." "Thanks for your help" I said, thinking that she had just permanently disfigured me but that it would be impolite not to thank her anyway. Boy was I getting mixed up. She led me to the waiting area. Before she left me she handed me a card and said "call me", smiled, blushed slightly and left. I watched her wiggle away in her red rubber hobble skirt, black top and red hair. She looked very kinky to me and I wondered if men in drag turned her on? That said, I was not sure I was a man in drag. I suspect I had become a full time cross dresser or perhaps a man living as a women. I was not sure I qualified as a drag queen as they apparently only dress for fun every now and again. As I sat there fingering through the pages of "Elle" magazine I caught sight of my patent black high heels with red toe nails poking out of the toe hole under my sheer panty hose and decided that was yet another uniquely feminine sight. I smoothed my red leather skirt and flicked my hair away from my face noticing that my longer nails changed the way I held the magazine. I looked at Angelina Jolie on one of the glossy pages and wondered if she had had the same lip plumping treatment I had had. I even stopped to question whether she was hotter than I was but could not reach an objective answer. Mum arrived and looked blank and then smiled broadly as she recognised me. "You have had the works, Kelly! I can't believe its you! You are so pretty!" I felt more confident leaving the hairdressers, as I realised that I passed easily as a women and that not even my friends would possibly recognise me and no one would guess I was a man now. That was true but there seemed to be a side effect. Most men stopped and just stared or did an unsubtle double take and I realised that I was now quite a local attraction, I think I could be described as a 'head turner'. Later that evening Dave phoned. He said he knew it was me in the store as one of his friends had told him of my predicament. It was snooker night and if I wanted to join him as female Kelly he would still be happy to take me. It was proving an adventurous day. Mum was right again, friends are friends. I decided I would take him up on his offer. I wore the same jeans as the previous snooker evening but this time I wore the leopard print leotard top and high heels. The boot leg flare of the jeans over the heels was a lovely touch. Very understated but somehow also very feminine. Dave's mouth dropped open when he saw me and he even opened the car door for me to get in. We arrived at the snooker club and one or two of the men had their girlfriends' with them but every man looked at me and then at Dave as we walked in. I realised I was the best looking women there and Dave by definition was therefore the luckiest man. Dave lapped up the attention,...as did I. No one even began to recognise me despite the fact that I had been there 100 times before. I found the extra height of the heels was a definite advantage when reaching for difficult shots. My nails did not hinder my shots either but they did continually remind me how 'femmy' I had become. I thought of Zoe and was so happy. Somehow I felt at peace with myself. By the time I got home from snooker, mum had had another go at my wardrobe and said she had purchased some rings, bracelets a watch and other items to help me pull off my new look. My wardrobe was now 100% women's clothes. She had placed some open backed high heeled slippers by my bed and arranged my make-up on the dresser. I felt pleased. The next day mum helped both Emily and I get ready for work. This time I wore my lavender dress. It was so feminine it was untrue. I had not had a proper meal for nearly two weeks and the corset did not feel so tight. The heels of the costume boots actually felt low. At work I attracted lots of admiration and compliments. Fiona was especially pleased. I texted Zoe in a quiet moment. "Drink tonight? Kelly" A return bounced back, "Hi K, pic u up @ 8 4 d8, dress sexy! lv Zxx" I gulped. I spent the day wondering what to wear for my date with Zoe. I even asked Fiona what she thought Zoe would regard as sexy. ?A tricky one, she is so kinky.? She advised. She took me to the older teens section of the store and showed me a black leather mini dress..."That would probably cut it and every women needs her little black dress." Size 8, I tried it in my break and it looked perfect" ?200, thank goodness for the 20% staff discount. The black strappy heels and some fishnets would do. What with paying for the snooker, the makeover and the dress my goal of freedom was rapidly slipping further away. When I got home, mum and Emily were thrilled that I had started buying my own clothes and wanted to check out the outfit and model it for them. They were impressed. ?He looks so sexy? Emily helped me with some heavier than usual makeup. With the leather mini dress and make-up I had managed to pull off the sexy look in my opinion, but was still nervous as Zoe was such a sex bomb. I asked mum and Emily if they would mind referring to me as she and her when I am dressed. The door bell went, my stomach felt strange. Under her black denim mini jacket Zoe wore a short rubber skirt in shiny black with a red sequin Basque. She had some patent red leather lace up heels that looked high, maybe 6" even, which she handled with ease. I put on the long leather coat to avoid attracting too much attention in public. We got into her red mini car and I smoothed my dress and we glanced at each other. "Hi girlfriend," she said. "Good day?" "Well actually I spent most of it wondering what to wear for you?? ?I could eat you,? she said simply. I figured I had passed the ?sexy? test. ?Me too,?I mean you,? I said slightly unsmoothly. She grinned. "Maybe later," she said. She took me to a fetish club and we danced and held hands all evening. Everyone thought we were either lesbians or just two girls who wanted to be left alone. We both rebutted several male advances although Zoe did tie one guy to a pole and left him to consider his position. We left early, about 10pm and went back to her place. She wanted me to try on various outfits and model them for her. I think she really did like men who liked to be women. Rubber dresses, skirts, high heels. We had the same size 6 shoe size and were of similar build so everything seemed to fit. By 1am she had me squeezed into a rubber cat suit and wearing some ballet boots. I did not know such things even existed and could not stand in them at all. "I can't have you running off." She quipped. She surprised me by handcuffing my hands behind my back. We kissed and kissed so gently. We could not stop kissing and I liked the sensation of lipstick on lipstick. Eventually she straddled me and let me lick her off and she rubbed me to orgasm. We slept together. She added cuffs to my ankles and chained them to my wrist cuffs in a gentle but inescapable hogtie. She also gagged me with a ball gag but she slept close and I did not care. I was her willing prisoner. We met again and again. We both bought rubber cat suits and she purchased a strap on. She impaled me with this but had still not let me put my dick inside her. After she impaled me she inserted and inflated a butt plug before zipping my cat suit access closed and securing me again for the night. She asked me if I would ever get breast implants. "Maybe" I replied surprising myself. She squeezed me tight. She let me use the strap on on her but never my penis. She said I was her girlfriend and she did not want to spoil the illusion. One day when we were out shopping we stopped at a piercing shop out of town. I realised she had pre-booked an appointment. Zoe asked if she could pierce the tip of my penis and also between my legs such that I could be locked backwards. The lady assistant was very surprised to learn I had a penis but confirmed that was possible. These piercings hurt but after a month Zoe found they had healed and obtained a small but secure padlock and was able to lock my penis back between my legs. That's where it spent most of its time now but the added twist of knowing Zoe had secured it there was arousing. Zoe kept the key around her neck as a symbol of her power over me. I remained her willing prisoner. One day she asked me to marry her. "It would have to be a civil ceremony." "Why?" I asked. Well no vicar is going to marry two people that look like women even if one is technically male. She had bought two matching engagement rings, one each of course. She booked me in for surgery as she wanted us both to have matching low cut wedding dresses. A week later I had two sore size C breasts of my own. Zoe was delighted with these. We chose identical wedding dresses comprising a basque and long tight skirt with high heels of course. We both looked very stunning. Most of the store turned up and wore their costumes which made for a lovely scene. Her surname was Crystal and I decided I would take that name as Kelly Crystal had a nice ring to it. Zoe took me back to the piercing shop and had a further piercing done behind my rear passage. This enabled her to either pull my penis back quite tightly and/or insert a butt plug and lock it into place. ?I like to see you wiggle when you walk,? she explained. She also had me tattooed. First, I had eyeliner permanently added, then ruby red lips and then "Zoe's girlfriend forever" in an arch over my bottom. With my ears pierced, my eyebrows permanently feminised, the eyeliner and red lips, tattoo and the breast implants I was a long way down a path with little chance of return. Zoe wanted me to take oestrogen tablets and a testosterone blocker. I did and after another 12 months my bottom and breasts were larger, my skin softer and my hair longer and fuller. Zoe liked to secure me for the night and had numerous ways of doing so. The more I pleased her the easier the bonds and vic versa. One day she seemed annoyed with me and produced a discipline corset. This extended from my breasts to my knees. It was in heavy leather and was capable of reducing my waist to 16" she informed me. It was rear lacing only and took about an hour to get on and laced. She started at 19" and tightened it several times down to 18". She added the ballet boots and a neck corset which had a steel rod that braced off my upper chest. This was adjustable and she could force my head back. She inserted a ball gag and padlocked this into place. She finished the job by cuffing my wrists to each side of my tiny waist and then drew my elbows together cruelly behind me. I was utterly immobilised and spent the night slightly uncomfortable. In the morning she removed the gag and I was so relieved. She said "you will need a drink" and gave me a welcome glass of water. To my horror she then put the gag back in. She laced me down another inch, ratcheted up my chin and re-fixed my elbows even more tightly together. "I'm off to do some shopping. Be good." I spent Saturday like this and Saturday night too. The only consolation was that she gave me my own fashion show of the items she had purchased. I had had an adventurous few years. The town and the store had done well following the idea of introducing the costumes. They had been quite a tourist attraction and sales had increased. I was now very accustomed to my daily costume and had learnt to move in a very feminine way. I had gained a beautiful girl friend and wife and I had embraced my new feminine life. I suppose I was technically now a shemale. The new costumes were to be ordered to arrive after the initial two years elapsed. Mrs Clark asked if I wanted to return to my male self, but I was having far too much fun to do that. "I knew I was making the right choice for you." she replied. I had to wonder about that remark. I went for my fitting and eagerly signed the contract. This time it invited the signatory to cross out male or female as appropriate. I crossed out male. Stacy the seamstress did not recognise me at first and then looked at me wide eyed. She repeated the measurements and I asked if my waist could be drawn in a little further. "18"?" "Yes that should be achievable" "You have an amazing figure" she said. "Your hips are now 36" so you will need the new costume to fit that too!" No wonder my gowns had been getting steadily tighter! All rights reserved 26 12 11 Priya Mistery