It Started With Tattooed Eyeliner
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It Started With Tattooed Eyeliner (4) free porn video
It was late Sunday morning, a time when I had hoped Keri would let me
recover a bit from Saturday's intensely humiliating venture to the waxing
studio, along with my exposure via social media. In keeping with her
threat to keep me dressed in the skimpy outfits I'd bought for my secret
crossdressing, she had me in a crop top and a school girl pleated skirt
that was so short my heavily bandaged penis showed below the hem. No
underwear. That wasn't being allowed these days. Five-inch pink stiletto
pumps with a pointed toe finished out the outfit.
"I want some croissants for lunch, with some of that wonderful rotisserie
chicken salad they sell at Costco. Run over there and get what we'll
need."
"Yes ma'am. May I change first?"
"You can wear the red panties. Tuck in your package. They'll keep you
legal, not that I care much. Now go. And get enough for four. We're
having company for lunch."
That frightened me. I put on the panties, tucked in my gauzed dick and
tripped out to the car dressed as I was. Costco was about a five-minute
drive, and I was in there pretty much every day, so I dreaded seeing all
the employees and neighbors dressed in an outfit meant to wear only in
private.
The parking lot was packed, and I had a long walk from the car. The woman
checking ID cards at the door greeted me with a smirk.
"Hello Ms. Andrews. You look lovely today."
I walked past her as quickly as I could, which wasn't very fast, and
without a word. The bakery and deli were located in the very back of the
store, so I had to walk through the huge electronics department, and past
the aisles for clothes, batteries, vacuum cleaners and other items.
When I got to the bakery, I couldn't find the croissants, so I called
Erin.
"Well, you'll just have to go to the counter and ask," she said.
I did so, and the fifty-something man behind the counter shook his head.
"Sorry, uh, bub, but you'll need to talk to the bakery manager. She's
back in the produce storage area right now."
The produce area was a refrigerator, and would be cold even for someone
wearing a jacket. In my skimpy outfit, I began shivering immediately. I
asked an employee who was stocking, and he said, "Yeah, she's back there.
She'll be out in a minute."
Five minutes later, she still wasn't out, and I was shivering so much my
teeth were chattering. Then she stuck her head out.
"Well hello, Ms. Andrews! Sorry for the wait. Just sit on that metal
crate over there and I'll be right out."
The crate was in the coldest part of the refrigerator, and my skirt was
so short that my bare skin was on it. After another 10 minutes, the
manager emerged.
"I'm really sorry for the wait! Oh goodness, I didn't realize you weren't
really dressed for the weather in here. Come on and I'll find you some
croissants."
She walked out in front of me without waiting for me to come along in my
insane heels. The bakery area was full of people, but at least it was
warmer. She pointed to a rack.
"I'm afraid the croissants are on that top rack. I can get somebody to
come get them down if you don't mind waiting. Otherwise, you can use this
small stepladder."
I smoothed my micro miniskirt down and stepped up as discreetly as I
could. The first step wasn't enough, so I had to go up another, then
reach up with my arms. I was aware that this was causing my skirt to ride
up, exposing everything beneath. I became vaguely aware of a flash and
looked down. Several people were taking pictures.
"Give us a big smile, Miss Jeri," said a familiar voice. It was Phoebie,
our neighbor from two doors down. "I saw you working this outfit in the
kitchen, but I didn't realize you'd venture out to Costco that way," she
said.
"Well, maybe I shouldn't have," I said.
"You look terrible," she said. "You need to get into some makeup and do
something with your hair. Tell Erin to call me if she needs a
recommendation Or she can contact me on Facebook. Actually, I just
reached out to her," she said. She turned her phone around to show me a
photo she had just taken. "I have one of you on the ladder I don't think
Facebook will allow, but I posted this one," she said. It showed me
facing her, easily recognizable. I was tagged in the photo, meaning all
my growing list of Facebook "friends" would see it.
"Thanks for the advice," I said. I found the chicken salad without any
trouble and headed back out to the car.
I got home to see a car in the driveway I didn't recognize. I parked on
the street and went to the front door, ringing the bell. Erin had
confiscated my house keys and required that I park on the street,
apparently to show me off to the neighbors.
"I can't figure out this fancy door. Jeri'll be back in just a minute,
I'm sure," said a voice I recognized as my office associate Shelly. It
took another six or seven minutes until the door opened, and I was
allowed inside.
Shelly seemed amused and looked me over with an overstated feigned
thoughtfulness. "She's not dressing for work like this tomorrow, is she?"
"No, of course not," said Erin. "So how do you think the reception has
been at the office?"
"Jeri was always popular and still is. It's a very broad minded place.
But honestly, while it's been a fun diversion for a lot of folks, but I
don't think it should be a permanent spectacle. It's bad for
productivity," said Shelly.
"What would help?" asked Erin.
"I think Jeri has to present as a full male or a full female, then people
can get used to it and adapt."
"Male is out of the question," said Erin. "With those eyes."
"Then Jeri needs to become convincing as a female," said Shelly. She
turned to me and asked, "How about it? What do you think?"
Erin interrupted: "What Jeri thinks doesn't matter. Her poor judgement
got her into this mess. From here on, decisions need to be left to those
who can be more responsible." She turned to me. "And who might that be,
Jeri?"
"You," I answered softly. Turning to Shelly, I said, "I have asked Erin
to make all decisions regarding my personal life, since I've made such a
mess of things."
The doorbell rang. "Get it," said Erin. Our fourth for lunch was Helen,
the marketing director for the company.
"Excellent timing!" said Erin. "We were just talking about the next steps
in managing Jeri's career, among other things. Shelly said the reaction
hasn't been entirely positive to the changes."
"It's nothing we can't manage. Should I call Jeri a he or she?" asked
Helen.
"Whichever is most comfortable to you," said Erin.
"That's just it. Having this muddy status gets complicated from a
management perspective, because we have all those personnel matters to
deal with. However, there's one way around all that, if you're truly in a
position to make all the decisions. You can form an LLC and we can
outsource Jeri's job to you. He ... she would be your employee, and we'd
pay you for ... her services. Since you're also married, you wouldn't
have the complications of personnel and nondiscrimination issues, and
we'd be free of the bureaucracy and regulatory concerns."
"What would the pay be?"
"Her current salary plus medical benefits, without taxes taken out, of
course. We'd write you a check every month. What you pay ... her ...
would be entirely between the two of you," said Helen.
"Great," said Helen. "I'll have Legal draw up the papers, and they'll
handle your incorporation as a courtesy. We can probably have everything
ready to sign by Tuesday. I assume she'll present as female?"
I spoke up: "That wasn't really what I had in ..."
Erin slapped him across the face so suddenly and so hard that he fell
down, and his lip began to bleed. "I'll decide that by the end of the
day. I'm sorry you both had to witness that."
"It's absolutely none of our business what you do in your own home," said
Helen. "I'll note that you will also be allowed to participate in her job
description, requirements, supervisory practices and disciplinary policy.
I would, however, be grateful for some clear signal on the gender
question."
"Jeri has made it clear that she is transsexual. I think it's only humane
that we do all we can to help her achieve her best self," said Erin.
"Would her health insurance cover any of the cost?"
"I anticipated that question and asked our benefits group. The answer is
yes for the big part." She pulled a booklet out of her briefcase. "It
covers Intersex surgery; male to female [a series of staged procedures
that includes male genitalia removal, penile dissection, urethral
transposition, creation of vagina and labia with stent placement]."
"So as I interpret that, insurance will cover cutting off the dick and
balls, moving the peehole, and giving her a pussy?"
"Exactly. Under this arrangement, you'll have to pay for the boobs, but
they're not that expensive."
"But that's not what I want," said Jeri, earning him another slap. Erin
turned to Helen and asked, "Can we write the supervisory and disciplinary
restrictions to allow you and other employees to handle matters like
this? We need to discourage this kind of behavior."
"You can allow anything you see fit, as long as it's legal. For example,
hitting her could be considered assault, so it's probably best to leave
that out of the agreement, though you could have ... private
understandings with a select few who have more discretion in private,"
said Helen.
"So if this had occurred in the office, can you demonstrate how such, uh,
private action might look?"
"Certainly," said Helen. She got in Jeri's face and said, "Listen,
girlie. We're not putting up with this shit any more." She pulled down
Jeri's miniskirt, then roughly jerked away the white gauze, exposing his
cock and balls. "This office, and the world, will be a better place when
these abominations are thrown out in the daily garbage. I mean, look --
you're sticking straight out! When we get that thing cut off, I'm going
to ask Erin to have a cast made and mounted so we can put it in the
company trophy case," she said.
Helen turned to Erin: "So how was that?"
"Perfect. What about other employees??"
"Her duties can include anything we demand, as long as you don't
expressly forbid it. We can also delegate full supervisory authority to
any other employee. If you like, she can be subject to disciplinary
action by anybody in the company. A newly hired temp would have full
authority to send her to scrub toilets, or to castigate her in public for
any reason. Or to send her to me or Shelly for more personal,
discretionary action."
"What do you recommend for the public no-no list?" Erin asked.
"Obviously, hitting is out. And we can't have people exposing her ...
parts ... in public areas. Anything like time out, sitting in the
corner, assigning extra work or even humiliation is fair game," Helen
said.
"OK, let's write it up that way and get started asap. I know the SRS will
take time because of the various psych hoops, but she's going to have
boobs as soon as I can afford it."
"There is one more option we can pursue -- one that would speed things
up, provide us a major marketing asset and relieve you of any of the ...
transition costs. How would you feel about making Jeri the face of our
company? Her photo would be on all of our marketing materials, and the
gimmick is that she wouldn't be a model nobody ever sees. She'll be there
in the office every day, or going out to interact with prospects or
customers. And of course, she'll be all over the Internet," said Helen.
"She already IS kind of a big deal on the Internet," said Shelly.
"So what's the catch?" said Erin.
"We'll handle all the details of the transition. Not just the gender
reassignment surgery, but the boobs, body reshaping, voice, lips and
other facial plastic surgery, and all the hormone treatments she needs.
If she's going to be the face of the company, she has to look just
right."
"I don't want her to be turned into a freak," said Erin.
"She won't be, but she'll be a bombshell, with a perfect body, and the
company will pay for every penny. So what do you say?"
"Sounds perfect to me. Do I get to make the, uh, appearance decisions?"
"You can have a role, but I really think it's best to leave that to the
doctors and their consulting estheticians, based on the physical
potential and our marketing needs."
"So where does it start?" Erin asked.
"As soon as the papers are signed Tuesday, Jeri will be sent to the
clinic to begin hormone treatments and some of the secondary surgical
procedures. Here's where they start. It usually includes a facelift,
work on the eyelids, feminization of the browbone, cheekbones and chin,
and shaving of the larynx. And they can go ahead with the orchiectomy if
you approve."
"What's that?" asked Jeri, speaking out of turn.
"Cutting your balls off, not that it's any of your business," said
Shelly.
"Very good," said Erin, clapping. Helen continued:
"She'll be in the hospital for a week or so, and when she returns home,
she'll need a few weeks of paid time off. You'll need to be sensitive to
the fact that she'll be loaded up with estrogen, as well as anti-
androgens. You can expect her to be very emotional. Having the balls gone
will make the hormones work even faster," Helen said.
"Why can they cut the balls off so soon?"
"Because that doesn't make her a female, so it's not a sex change. It
just makes her a male without balls, which in this case will be an
improvement," said Helen. "During her time off, she'll be on a very
strict diet to lose about 25 pounds, which will be followed by
liposuction to really sculpt her body. In the next few months, there will
also be such things as a tummy tuck, implants to calves and buttocks. By
this time, we'll have a clearer picture of the final shape of her face
and body, and it will be possible to make decisions on breast and lip
augmentation. At this point, we're about nine months into the process,
and Jeri will be starting to have all kinds of feminine feelings,
including a female sex drive. It's impossible to know in advance what
form this will take, whether she'll want sex with women, men or both, but
the psych people encourage that any such feelings be indulged consistent
with her safety," said Helen.
"When the surgery has healed, will her girl parts be, uh ..."
"Fuckable? Oh my yes. And the way she's going to look, she'll have plenty
of opportunities, subject to your willingness to allow her to accommodate
them. The hormones will also probably have her craving tons of sex, so
you could have a little nymphomaniac on your hand."
Erin thought a moment. "What you're asking will potentially provide far
more value to the company than her existing job. I think we're going to
need to be paid accordingly."
"I'll send that up the line, and we'll deal with it Tuesday. So how about
it, do we have an appointment for, say, 9 a.m. Tuesday?"
"Indeed we do," said Helen, and they left.
Kaidence
- 13.04.2022
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