Thirty Curlers and Picks part 2
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Thirty Curlers And Picks, Part 6 free porn video
Interesting, the memories that come back to you, in an instant.
When I was a young girl, eight or nine, I would purposely wander into my
mother's bedroom while she was dressing for a night out with Daddy. I
would be fascinated at the sight of Mother bending, naked, from the
waist and letting her boobies fall gracefully into the cups of her bra.
As she would straighten back up, invariably, she would smile at me and
wink. I swear she would mouth the words: "Sometime soon, my dearest."
Not long thereafter, I found a pink wrapped package laying on my bed
when I woke up one Saturday morning.
Presents are nice, and I wasn't bashful about opening the package.
"Your First Training Bra," said the printing on the sealed clear bag
inside.
Wow! Was the first thought in my head. I ripped the seal open and took
out the cotton item it held.
I knew what to do. I had seen Mom do it many many times. Over the
shoulders the straps slid and I bent from the waist but nothing fell
into the little cups. No matter. I fumbled with the closure hooks in the
back and straighten up. I was wearing my own bra!
I stepped into my panties, admired myself in the mirror, pulled on some
capris and a flimsy rayon top. I walked, head held high, down to
breakfast. Mother looked my way and smiled. Father had his head in the
morning newspaper. My brothers ignored me as usual. My show of walking
with my chest puffed out did not faze the turkeys in the least. My time
would come sometime soon. I grew a little each year and so did the
cotton bras that matched my body.
Just prior to my 14th birthday, Mother suggested a mother and daughter
shopping trip. Yippee! She has money, I don't. I thought we were going
to the mall as usual. Not this day. We pulled into a small shopping area
I had never been to before. The shops seemed to be very expensive.
Hmmmmm? I might like this.
Mother had one particular store in her sights. She took me by the hand
and guided me through the door into Claudia's Boutique. A fine scent of
quality perfume enveloped me as I walked through that door. Everywhere
were hung and displayed the most beautiful bras and panties and corsets
I had ever seen. I covered my chest, not wanting to be embarrassed by my
meager cotton number. My eyes were wide and my mouth hung open. Not a
good first impression, I am sure, as Mother introduced me to Claudia
herself.
"Claudia, this is my daughter, Wendy. She is ready. Do what we discussed
and I will be back in about two hours."
Claudia kissed my mother on both cheeks and watched her go out the door.
She turned to me and looked me over very carefully.
"Hmmmmmm," was her total comment.
Now many years later, Claudia looked over my husband, Shirley, and the
only thing she had to say was: "Hmmmmmm"
After I had gotten my Fairy Princess to stop looking at himself in the
mirror, we grabbed a figure happy salad, and got Jim dressed as I had
thought would be good for this shopping trip. He was really quite cute.
Would be no problem for him to travel by car a few miles. His "Do" was
very feminine and his make up adequate. The clothing I had selected was
androgynous enough to limit the most basic scrutiny. I had a little
problem getting the dear to actually step out of the house, dressed as
he was. But eventually his curiosity and basic sexual desires won out
over being chicken. He would do just fine in his first steps as a girl.
As we drove the few miles, I told Jim what was going to happen to him
today. I had discussed the situation with Claudia on the phone and she
was happy to make time for my little darling right away. Jim swallowed
very hard when the words corset and bustier were mentioned to him. To
say nothing of the concept of him being fitted by a woman for the
correct sizing in his bras and panties and girdles. Jim did make a few
whimpering sounds, which I ignored. I had made it quite clear that, here
in the initial stage of his training, I would be in total charge of what
he did, what he wore, what he ate, where he went. Jim had always loved
the results when I had spent some time and money at Claudia's. Let's see
how much he will love what Claudia will do to him.
Claudia's Boutique had not changed much in all those years. The
merchandise may have gotten somewhat more expensive and more
fashionable, but Claudia herself, though older, knew her business. And
today was a part of her business that she especially loved - molding men
into whatever shape she wanted them to become. Probably about 20 percent
of Claudia's business came from that area of her clientele which would
usually wear ugly pants and shirts and ties. But when they came to
Claudia, either willingly or forced, things changed for them swiftly.
Shirley garnered a second: Hmmmmmmm! from Claudia.
"This is something that maybe I can work with. He has good bones and is
not too overweight. I can see him is several ways. Nipped and tucked and
contained, he may make a nice enough women. Has to be better than what
we are starting with, eh? What is his name again?"
"Shirley, Claudia, I know it is nothing fancy, but he likes it."
"Damn right it is nothing fancy. But if he wants to be a 'Shirley' so it
shall be. Just don't call me Shirley!"
"Shirley, go into the fitting room over there. Take off all your
clothes. I will toss you a pair of panties to start you off. Put them on
and then hop up onto the little platform in front of the mirrors. The
first step will be a very thorough measurement of every part of your
body. Wendy, why don't you look around and pick out a few things you
would like to see your "Shirley" fitted into. I think we should get this
fine specimen of sissy started out with bras and girdles. After that we
can go into the really sexy controlling goodies. If he hasn't fainted by
then."
As Shirley went to do Claudia's bidding, I noticed several other women,
clerks and customers, had stopped their business to follow his progress.
They knew. They had come on a good day. Watching this sissy being
brassiered and girdled was going to give them a great deal of
entertainment today. I wonder how much of Jim's feminine desires hinged
on being humiliated. Those sites he had been frequenting had also
contained a great deal of wanting to be humiliated. I wasn't sure about
Jim. I got the feeling that he really wanted to be a girl and the
humiliation factor was not, probably, even known to him. But today would
give a good answer to that question. Being wrapped and packed, in front
of a store full of women, into bras and girdles and corsets just might
humiliate most men.
Claudia winked at me and quickly opened the door to the fitting room
Shirley has vanished into. She left the door open a foot or so. Being
nosey and quite curious, I wanted to see the initial steps involved.
Through he open door I saw my husband, made up and coiffed, at last in
pink panties and nothing else. He stood on a small platform about a foot
high off the ground, surrounded by edge lighted mirrors on three sides
and a ceiling of mirrors above. Nothing was unseen. He was there,
exposed, almost naked, awaiting the advancing Claudia. Armed with a
measuring tape and a note pad, Claudia was smiling and talking softly to
Jim.
"We are not going to bite! I bet you will even think back later on how
much you enjoyed your first lingerie fitting. I tell you, Shirley, the
number of specimens like you who have stood in just that position, but
unlike you, entirely against their will, would amaze you. As a matter of
fact it is so nice not to have a whining, crying, sniveling manchild
groveling before me. I really enjoy having a voluntary, but still
afraid, sissy to work with. Now, let your arms fall naturally at your
side. I am going to take a series of measurements which will show us the
basic requirements of your, shall we say, repackaging."
Jim faced Claudia with his face down, but with an air of expectancy and
curiosity, which I found very endearing in a man in his position.
Claudia took her measurements professionally, with Jim abiding by her
every instruction. When not told to do otherwise, Jim held his arms
crossed over his naked breasts in genuine female modesty.
Without turning around, Claudia called over her shoulder, "Wendy, find a
Longline in a 36B, please! I know you are lurking there. Make yourself
useful. We will start with a nice Longline Bra. The poor boy has nothing
to cover his tits with! His nipples have goose bumps!"
I hustled to find an appropriate longline bra for my husband. Really was
a great way to introduce the poor guy into the wonderful world of "over
the shoulder boulder holders" as some of my more IQ challenged male
classmates has termed them in the 8th grade. You could not get anything
more intrinsically womanly to stuff a quivering male into than a fully
intimidating, torso confining and boob defining, stringently
controlling, longline bra. They scared me! I am not kidding!
Even I, a qualified female, would have a very difficult time getting
into one of those contraptions without some assistance. And getting out
of one would create the same logistical nightmare. Mother had insisted
that I wear one for our wedding. After the ceremony, I figured out what
exactly the Groom's role was in the whole thing. He had to get me out of
the longline bra!
I found the proper garment in a section of the boutique which seemed to
be given over to instruments of medieval torture. Getting this item onto
my husband was, actually, going to be a lot of fun.
A 36B-cup, with semi-flexible metal stays, 16 hook and eyelet back
closures, padded satin push-up cups and strong lacy mesh shoulder straps
may just bring tears to the eyes of my unsuspecting husband. And I
wanted to see every minute of his introduction to longline bras. Sure, I
loved the guy, but I deserved some fun.
Shirley's goose bumped nipples and Claudia's inpatient tow tapping
awaited me as I came through the door to the fitting room, bearing this
gift of womanly discomfort held before me like an axe being offered to
the executioner.
Claudia stood in front of Shirley on the floor of the fitting room. She
took the garment and motioned for Shirley to raise her arms and placed
the bra over his arms and allowed the straps to frame his shoulders.
Shirley stared directly in front of herself. Her eyes did not take in
Claudia or myself. Claudia motioned for me to take my place on the
platform behind Shirley. I understood now that I was to be given the
honor of fastening my husband into his first Longline Bra. Immediately
my thoughts raced back to my own bra fitting so many years ago. My
mother was given the same honor and I can still feel the wispy kiss of
her lips on my naked back as she hooked my first fitted bra securely in
place.
I grasped the offered sides of the daunting garment and pulled the sides
with a hearty tug of both hands. Shirley sighed as the satin found a
nestling home over his virgin skin. The cups grasped at his minuscule
breasts and found a perch. They were not called "Push-up" cups for
nothing. I continued the steady pull on the sides so that the hooks and
eyes came close together. The trick with a longline bra is to get the
first two hooks and eyes fastened in the center of the back and then
work your way up and down, creating the seal and the shape on the
subject enclosed. Once fastened, Shirley was in there till she was
released. The fit of the bra would tell that simple fact to Shirley as
soon as the final closure was made.
With each fastening, Shirley gave a small moan. So did I. This was hard
work! Shirley was not moaning from the work. She was moaning from the
feelings running through her/his body for the first time in his life.
I think they were moans of happiness. Almost positive.
At last the sixteen closures were established and Shirley was encased in
her bra. What an experience for any young woman. Imagine the experience
for a young or middle aged man. I took my fingers away from the job I
had done and brought them to each side of the bra I had just hooked on
my husband. Firmly I pressed from each side and felt his flesh give very
little. He was one with his bra. My hands and fingers slowly ventured
upward and to the front of his molded body. Soon my hands had found his
cups and I caressed the satin of his bra. By now his moan had changed
into a lingering sigh and a soft call of "Wendy".
Claudia approached from the front and positioned breast forms into the
semi-filled cups on his bra. His eyes fell to see the shape of his
breasts, held into place by the bra he had wanted to wear for years.
Tears came to his eyes. He turned to me and held his chest as high as he
could, offering his covered nipples for me to kiss, and maybe at some
point in the future, to suck.
I could only hope that my lipstick prints would wash cleanly off the
satin of his bra.
"Ah, guys, get a room! We have a lot more fittings to get through. I
have other customers to take care of. Enough fun for the time being. We
have work to do!"
Nadine
- 20.09.2022
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Thirty Curlers and Picks Part 4
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Thirty Curlers and Picks Part 3
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