Leave it to Beaver and his brother
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A Legal Beaver - Chapter 2 free porn video
A Legal Beaver
Chapter 2
By
Stefanie Flowers
Previously Brett, my persona was now that of a female, Britney. Dressed
in boys clothes, I am seated on a plane as it lands in Paris. I am going
to a work assignment that will earn me a scholarship for college. Only
weeks ago I had been a teenage boy on the cusp of becoming a man. Now I
am a female about to be trained as a model. It was a strange set of
circumstances that had led me here to train as a model when all I wanted
was to be a lawyer. My sponsors had chosen this work assignment to
prepare me for college; to take away my shyness and build confidence. It
would either do that or break me.
The way I am dressed tells everyone that I am a lesbian so luckily no
men tried to hit upon me as I made my way from England to France. A cab
from D'Orly airport took me to my new abode for the next year; a flat in
the Paris suburbs which I was to share with three other girls. When I
say girls, that was true but I had been informed earlier that one was
transgender. I could never tell which one of the three was her. I'm not
sure what I was, a temporary transgender or boy masquerading as girl.
All were part of the same program that I had signed up for. We were to
be trained as models for a famous Paris fashion house. All of the other
girls were French. I spoke not a word of their language. Well maybe a
qui or non, but that was as far as it went!
On entering the flat and seeing the other girls I had no time to be shy.
I heard them scream, "Oh, mon Dieu! Etes-vous Britney?"
"Oui," I replied trying to capture the same excitement that they were
exhibiting towards me. Screaming, they all came over and hugged me to
death. They introduced themselves as Michelle, Bridget and Francoise.
Apparently not at all bashful they asked me, "Etes-vous un irsbian?"
I didn't need to know French to get their meaning. "Non, non non!" I
quickly denied. "Je suppose que je suis un peu un Tom Boy."
"Quelle honte! Alors vous avez besoin d'aide," was Bridget's response.
I was soon taken under their wings and converted into every man's sexual
wet dream. They taught me how to do my make up, helped me shop for sexy
stylish lingerie and clothing and how to act unashamedly female. We went
out to beauty salons, clothing stores, restaurants and nightclubs. I
don't know how but they had taught me, without understanding a word of
French, how to behave and dress as a stylish, sophisticated, sexy woman
of Paris. All in the matter of a month. I was grateful for soon we had
to report to the fashion house for our training as models. I was new to
being a woman and they had helped me to quickly leave my old self
behind.
Several evenings a week I had to attend conversational French classes.
The lessons helped and I developed a genuine Parisian accent but the
girls proved to be my best teachers. In the local bars and clubs I
learnt how to fend off pushy males and how to flirt with the ones I
fancied. Fancied? Did I really say that? It was true. I was learning how
to be an attractive young woman and play the nightclub scene. The girls
didn't give me a chance to be my usual shy self. It was not long before
I just loved dancing in skimpy sexy clothes, unashamedly showing off my
curvaceous body to the ogling males.
Somehow it all felt so natural being a girl. Maybe it was the hormones
that my female body generated. Still I couldn't let the girls in on my
secret. My male will power and dignity was seriously weakening. Oh how I
wanted to find out what it felt to be like a real woman, to have a rigid
penis thrusting into my wet dripping vagina. Janet had warned me not to
get pregnant for I would be stuck as a woman forever, but she hadn't
told me how strong the sexual urges would become. But what harm would it
do? I just needed to be careful. I had already felt my breasts massaged
by male hands. I had exchanged French kisses with probing tongues and
felt female juices secreted in my loins in expectation of what my body
demanded. This was my chance to experience life from the other side. At
the back of my mind I still kept questioning why I was doing this. I
told myself that it was not for long. My college would be fully paid for
just by being female for a few months. A few months. That was a lie. It
was more like two years. Could I, Brett, ever recover from this
experience? My everyday wear was now frilly satin lingerie, short mini
skirts and tight blouses displaying my very ample cleavage. I had gotten
used to wearing tight fitting thongs, platforms bra's and the highest of
high heels. There were so many exciting changes to feel and experience.
Then it came time to report for fashion school. First came the catwalk.
Our manager and trainer, Madam Sylvie, taught us how to sway our hips in
a sexy walk with one foot placed directly in front of the other. Soon I
could sashay my way down the walkway with the best of them. A classic
model pose with one hand on my waist, the other hand held limply to
display flashing rings and bracelets. At the end, we learned to pause on
display, purse our lips into the hint of a smile, and then casually
pirouette to return back down the catwalk. It was a sophisticated tease
show without the stripping. The fashion house was well pleased with our
work. I had worn gorgeous long flowing evening gowns, short tight sexy
skirts and hot pants and then my favorite of all. My body actually
tremored a bit as I wore the billowing, petticoated wedding gown all in
white satin with a built in tight fitting corset. It had a long flowing
train that trailed behind me. I could hardly see anything with my face
obscured by the diaphanous veil covering my head. Perched on high
stiletto heels I had to walk very carefully so as not the trip over the
volumes of satin and lace. It was just like being in a real wedding as I
walked down the catwalk taking steps in time to the wedding march. Two
young girls dressed as bridesmaids helped to manage the long trailing
folds of satin and lace.
That was not all, for we spent many hours being coached in fashion,
applying make-up and projecting confidence and self esteem. I had never
felt so alive or so beautiful. Men stopped and turned just to devour the
sight of me. It made me feel so mature, so powerful. After some big
fashion shoots were published we gained some public exposure. Famous
enough to be in Vogue as part of an article on upcoming young fashion
models. My face was there for everyone to see. Not on the front page but
certainly some notoriety from being exposed to the fashion public. All
in the space of less than a year.
Derek came to visit for a long weekend. Of course, he couldn't keep away
now knowing what my flat mates looked like. I guess he too read Vogue,
or Mum had shown him the photos. My girl friends took good care of Derek
and saw that he experienced the whole Paris scene close up, lucky guy.
He even came and watched some of our shows. He took like a fish to water
enjoying every minute of female attention. When it was time to leave he
hugged and kissed me on the cheek and then whispered in my ear, "This is
what you are meant to be. Don't waste your life by being Brett again." I
was both shocked and touched at the same time. He didn't mind having me
as a sister and just wanted me to be happy. Was it that obvious how much
I was enjoying myself? Funny, up until then I had been totally immersed
in my new role as a female, but now he had reminded me Brett. Now I
wondered if I had gone too far. Was I losing who I truly am or had I
found the real me?
Well it didn't take long after he left before I put aside all thoughts
of Brett. I was soon back to being the vivacious Britney. Not yet having
had intercourse I felt that it was now time for me to experience the
whole deal. But I didn't want just any male. I wanted one I had feelings
for and one who truly cared about me. So I took my time until Mr. Right
came along. His name was Antoine, a student at the Ecole d'economie de
Paris. We met at a disco and he introduced himself by running his hands
up my leg into my dripping wet panties. We started going out regularly.
That meant a lot of nights together in bed making passionate love. Even
though he used a condom, I was ultra careful and made sure to always
take my pill. He was getting very serious about our relationship and
wanted me to meet his parents but I told him that marriage was out of
the question. I really cared for him but a long term relationship was
out of the question for I was going on to college to become a lawyer. He
was devastated and broke off our relationship. My first break up. I
could tell that I did not really love him for it didn't hurt that much
but I did miss the regular sex.
Work continued at the fashion house and we were to do a shoot on
lingerie. This took a bit of getting used to for I was half naked while
photographers got in real close to get the ideal shot. They coached me
into taking the right pose, how to hold just the perfect expression. I
was pouting and smiling with the best of them. The first shoot was all
vintage lingerie; long line bullet and cone shaped bra's, waist cinching
panties, tap pants, girdles and corsalettes. Despite my misgivings it
all turned out quite tasteful. Soon my scantily dressed body was on bill
boards everywhere and I couldn't go anywhere without someone recognized
me as that lingerie girl. What I loved most were the seamed nylon
stockings held up by sexy garters. Having worn nylons how could I ever
go back to pantyhose! I just love the silky feel of my legs as they
rubbed together.
As we came near to the end of our assignment we were asked to model
lingerie at special showings arranged for parties and private
gatherings. Being naive I thought these would be for women interested in
buying something hot to titillate their husbands. We girls were dressed
in the skimpy, silky and mostly transparent lingerie at the fashion
house. Then, covered in silk robes, we were piled into the back of a van
for transportation to the show. We arrived at the back door of a large
mansion; not quite Versailles but you get the picture. There our robes
were taken away and we told to go out, mingle and show off the lingerie.
Non of this would have been strange except for the assembly of guests.
They were all men!
Madame Sylvie said, "Ne prenez pas les filles effray?es! Ils sont
inoffensifs. Vous avez juste besoin de sourire et de faire une
conversation polie. Au pire, vous aurez un mamelon pinc? ou une main
caressant sur vos fesses." Bye now I understood French perfectly. Don't
take fright girls! They are harmless. You just need to smile and make
polite conversation. At worse you'll get a nipple pinched or a caressing
hand on your butt.
And so we did as we were told. Dressed as we were with no money and no
transportation home what else could we do. We mingled with the men,
drinking Champagne and trying not to feel conspicuous. We smiled and
flirted with them, pretending to let them take a close look and feel the
quality of our lingerie. The men took every opportunity to fondle us and
yes, I suffered many a pinch and the caress of wandering hands. It was
creepy and I couldn't wait for it to end.
On loading us back into the van, Madame Sylvie said, "Bien jou?
Mesdames. L?, ce n'?tait pas trop mal? La prochaine fois que vous les
filles pouvez gagner de l'argent suppl?mentaire si vous voulez. Certains
des hommes veulent mieux te conna?tre, si tu vois ce que je veux dire. I
won't translate what she said. Her meaning was obvious even to those who
don't speak French. Things were going way too far. Was she a real Madam
and were we expected to become her whores?
Thank god, it was nearing the end of my assignment and not a moment too
soon. I was losing myself as Britney. I loved the new me and most of her
life, all except for Madam Sylvie's none to discrete prodding to become
more than just models.
As scheduled, after exactly a year Janet came to assess my progress and
get review comments from Madam Sylvie.
"So how are you doing Britney?" she asked as an opener.
"Great," I replied. "I've gained so much confidence and love being a
model. I love my flat mates too. They've helped me out so much; they're
like sisters to me."
"How about external relationships," she then said cutting to the point.
"Well, I have a boyfriend. I'm not a virgin anymore but I've manage not
to get pregnant!" I replied.
"I knew that once you came out of your shell it would prove difficult
not to have sexual relations" she replied. Always blunt and to the point
she said, "So where exactly are you? Do you want to return to being
Brett? Do you want to go on and become a lawyer or do you want to stay
here as a model?"
That was the crux of my problem. I was so confused. I wanted all of
those options. All except for Madam Sylvie's unwelcome prodding to
entertain men.
I told Janet about the problem with her. Janet just laughed saying that
if I so desired, I could stay on and make lots of money, more than any
lawyer. Shocked, I didn't know how to respond. Obviously Madam Sylvie's
activities were not unknown to her.
"Britney, this assignment is now over. You passed with flying colors.
Now you have to chose where we go from here. So what's it to be?" she
persisted.
My thoughts were all confused by what my family wanted, my ambition to
be a lawyer, my sex life with Antoine, and yes, my new life as a woman.
How was I supposed to be able to decide just like that.
Janet, getting impatient, decided to help me along in the decision
making. "You've done very well Britney. I understand that all of these
new experiences might be overwhelming your senses, but it's time to
reach a decision. Do you want to be a lawyer or not?"
That was the crux of it and I realized that my ambitions had not
changed. So I replied, "I want to be a lawyer, but please, can you tell
me something?"
"Well, what is it Britney?"
"When you interviewed me I know that you had my erroneous application
and I was wrong not to correct things, but did you really think that I
was a girl? Did I really come across as a Tom Boy?"
"Of course not Britney. I did not know what to think. You were obviously
a boy but you had submitted an application as a girl. I thought that you
might be transgender but too shy to tell me."
"But what about when I called to correct the mistake?"
"Well, it was too late by then. We only had the girl assignments
available and I was still not sure if you wanted to be a girl or not. In
any event, it was the only option available to you so I offered you the
opportunity to see life from the other side. I must say, you haven't let
me down Britney."
Ok, well that explained what had been bugging me. I hadn't been
outwardly gay and it was only my brothers practical joke that had
initiated my change of life.
Soon I was back at home, only now un-mistakenly as a girl. Mom was over
the moon. She had her daughter Britney, not son Derek, living at home
with her. I enjoyed going out with her shopping for girly clothes,
getting a hair do and a facial at the salon. It made her so happy. Derek
still remembered his trip to Paris and wanted me to go back to being a
model. Dad! Well who knew what he thought but he treated me as his
daughter. Of all things he now called me 'Kitten'.
It all felt so strange. Living in my old bedroom not as Brett but
Britney. Mum and Dad took to making things more easy for me by re-
decorating the room into a girly retreat. Pink walls and lacy pastel
drapes. A large canopy bed and a make-up table to boot! It only made
things worse for here, in this house, I couldn't forget the past or
truly embrace my future.
Fortunately it was not long before my next assignment was to start as
Janet's para legal secretary.
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