Posted by: Admin on Saturday, August 17, 2002 - 04:51 AM 
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The Landlady
Part Three
What the mirror reflected was a much younger person whose face reflected an unmistakably feminine caste. Upon checking more closely, I figured that face could have been my own as a teenager, but only if I had been born female! Here was more proof that the powers being applied for my 'benefit' were very real, and seemingly omnipotent.
The face was recognizable as mine beneath the jumble curlers, but there were both major and subtler differences. Of course, it was much thinner, no more double chin, but my whole head seemed smaller. The coarse hide form years of shaving and black whisker stubble was gone, replaced by a flawless peaches-and-cream complexion. The squarish chin was now rounded and smooth. Lips were full, nose pert, lashes long, formerly thick bushy brows now arched high and plucked pencil-thin. The cheekbones were high and well defined. The long slender neck now lacked the prominent Adam's apple bulge.
"Good God, Lea..." A naturally high soft tone came easily from my throat. "...and my voice too!" I had a perfectly pitched, natural feminine voice now as well. "It hasn't stopped, has it? How far into this are you taking me?" I breathed anxiously.
"How far do you want to go, Lora?" She put away the dryer and began removing pins and curlers.
Dreamily staring at my new teenage girl's face, my feminine voice said, "If this was just a dream I...I'd want it to go on forever." But it felt all too real, and ..well.., at the time it seemed so easy to just toss away all the pain and aggravation. Now I'm not so sure."
Lea was expertly sweeping a brush through the waves that tumbled thickly over my shoulders. "It's only natural that you feel uncertain at first, but you'll gain confidence quickly. And I'm quite certain that when you've had time to adjust, you'll be amazed at how quickly your confidence with your Lora side will grow. Besides, there is a certain amount of self-determination built into your becoming Lora. In fact, after one more small adjustment, you'll decide for yourself how much farther you'll go."
"I will? How?"
"Do you recall Mardak mentioning something called 'triggers'?"
"Uh..yea, vaguely. I was too surprised by their arrival to pay much attention to what was said, but I do recall him asking about 'using the same triggers as before'."
"You have an excellent memory, my sweet. I must warn you that the only way to counter the invocation is to recall Mardak and Susar, since such action requires their combined powers. But I doubt even I could recall them anytime soon, especially since I know from personal experience that Susar would not readily consent to any such notion.
"Anyway, each 'trigger' controls a particular aspect. Some are automatic, like your hair filling in and its growth. I control most of the others, including the minor ones that altered your arms, legs, voice, and face. Your penmanship was remade when you set the pen to the paper. Of course, there are still a few left, and when appropriate I'll invoke them, however, You will determine their extent. Do you understand?"
Lush thick waves flowed luxuriously over my shoulders. Thinking about what Lea said, I rose from the small stool and stepped in front of the full- length mirror. Loosening the robe, I let it fall to the floor. But some sense of modesty allowed the shorts to stay.
With Lea beside me, I stood staring intently at the androqynous reflection. "You're saying that I can be as female as I wish?"
"Not quite."
"But..."
"I insist that you be Lora, and that means you must live as a woman fulltime. However, to do so, you may be as much of a woman as you wish. I'll demonstrate."
Before I could protest, her eyes closed and she grimaced with concentrated effort, then her eyes popped open suddenly and looked all my reflection, fingers fluttering in the direction of my stomach.
Suddenly, my lower ribs and gut felt like a giant hands were squeezing me like a tube of toothpaste! There was pressure but no pain as my waist visibly contracted by several inches. Within seconds, my midriff had narrowed dramatically, my torso sloping inward from the armpits to a newly diminutive waist. My hips seemed oddly narrow there between those feminine legs, and that slim waist. The shorts now hung much lower and very loosely.
"I hear and obey," Lea snickered and repeated the squinting finger motion again.
My hipbones extended sideways as though that same giant was stretching them apart, while my ass plumped out. In seconds I had a perfect hourglass figure!!
Now the shorts were stretched to their limits but the band was loose.
Trying hard to breath normally, my soprano voice croaked, "J..Jeez, Lea, I only thought about it! That's one damned sensitive hair-trigger'"
"Didn't I say you'd have some amount of control yourself? It's rather minor, but gets you personally involved in the process so you're more likely to appreciate and be satisfied with the results. Now, it appears that our lovely Lora needs some plumbing work, don't you think?" She arched an eyebrow and aimed her gaze at my crotch.
Granted, my fantasy woman was certainly ALL female, but Lea was aiming her efforts at the very essence of my threatened masculine existence. If she did what was obviously her intent , there would be no going back, EVER!
In panic I grasped at my groin. "Urgh-uh!"
"Now, my sweet, precious Lora, let's not be that way. Just remember that magic done can be undone. Though, as I've said, it's a bit more difficult in the other direction. Why not try it for a while? Then, if you're not truly happy, I'll make the unprecedented effort to have everything undone."
My hands relaxed only siightly and resolve wavered. "Promise..(gulp!)..?"
"Of course I promise. But don't forget, back when we first discussed my 'treatment', I guaranteed that you would be satisfied with the results, didn't I?"
"Yeah.." Dainty fingers cautiously withdrew their protection.
"Just remember how wonderful you felt in your wedding dream, my dear. Wouldn't you love to experience such loveliness for real?"
With incredible clarity my memory felt the dreamy touch of satin and lace against soft smooth flesh, the whispering sigh of the floor-length gown against MY legs, flared hips contained in cool lace panties that pressed firmly into the flatness between ... "
"Oh God!" I gasped, realizing that an appropriate 'trigger' had kicked in, and I was all too conscious of its target.
With considerable effort, I refrained from shoving my dainty fingers indelicately into the ill-fitting shorts. Beneath, I distinctly felt my testicles shrink as they were seemlingly absorbed into my groin. Their container flattened against my crotch then puffed slightly while my cock shrank and disappeared into the same general area. Very low in my groin there were ill- defined movements that pushed upwards into my lower abdomen then stopped. Was I female inside now too? Probabl!y, including vagina, cervix, uterus, ovaries, clit (x-penis glans), and all the other plumbing required to emulate a functional female,
Meanwhile, the cotton shorts transmuted into a pair of white satin panties. They crawled up to snugly clutch the new curvature of my high-set waist, and expanded to firmly encase my vastly distended hips and buttocks.
Mouth agape, my wide-eyed gaze shifted between my reflection and Lea's. I felt numb, torn between anger at what had just been done and joy that it had.
"Well, Lora," my 'benefactor' said, "your almost there. And for this last part I'm giving you the most control. All you have to do is think again about your lovely bridal fantasy."
Unable to avoid her encouraging instruction, my thoughts flashed back to that fanciful ceremony. I imagined looking down and seeing those full corpulent mounds exposed above the white satin and lace. The memory was so vivid I could almost actually feel their substantial masses straining against the bodice's sizable but still inadequate containment. Although hidden beneath the material, the twin nubs that tipped those prodigious spheres felt tingly sensitive to the pressure of being pushed firmly against the smooth, tightly compressing material.
When I looked up at the mirror, my eyes were drawn nervously to the two itchy nipples that were already the size of my thumbnail and stuck out a full half an inch. Suddenly, the tiny tan circles surrounding them flared outward into two-inch-wide areolas, like brown syrup flowing covering a mountain peak. Beneath those expanded twin circles the pale flesh slowly began to swell, pushing outward into small hillocks, growing to become conical mounds, expanding into mountainous masses that tugged heavily at my chest. Those new breasts looked huge and they were definitely heavy, yet they were firm enough not to require support. Looking down, they appeared enormous, sticking out a mile from my chest.
I momentarily regretted my penchant for the 'full-breasted look'. Still, on the woman in the mirror they were luxuriant and provocatively sensual, large, yes, but high and firm. And their abundance was not overly out of proportion to the rest of her.
LORA's reflection stared back!
Time stopped as I gazed for endless moments upon the beautiful naked young woman that Lea and her wizards had made of me. Considering how quickly my new exquisitely female form had been created, it was extremely difficult for my male-oriented mind to grasp the reality that besieged my senses. Whatever battle may have been waged as my maleness struggled for its identity was over before it ever really began. Those old well-used 'Lora' fantasies of being a lovely woman, enjoying beauty and sensual femininity, were now REAL. They attacked without mercy, defeating my rapidly deflating male psyche in record time.
More quickly than I would have ever thought possible, the feminine personality of 'Lora' blossomed forth with such vitality that the individual who had once been Larry Rossman, disgruntled, frustrated, more than a bit kinky, was abruptly tossed into the mental cloas which had formerly housed his distaff persona. With a flourish, Lora secured 'him' in a small mental closet with a psychic padlock, consigning 'Larry' to memory, never again to show his balding obese presence to the world.
LORA LIVED!
Tearing my attention from the ravishing creature I'd become, I faced Lea and returned her brilliant smile.
"My God, I'm gorgeous!" I sighed in a melodious feminine tone.
It was growing harder to stay calm as I was assailed by sensations of incredible clarity and fantastic wonder. There was a rising glow of excitement as long copious locks of hair brushed across the engorged sensitive tips of soft breast flesh, causing those twin nubs to emit a low-grade charge like tiny shock waves radiating from each nipple into the swollen masses beneath.
My delicate fingers traced down along my slim waist, over my protruding hips' feminine flare, to thickened thighs, then moved to discover the moist warmth of my new 'tunnel' and the incredibly sensitive nub that marked its entrance.
Lea broke my trance like inspection. "Uh, maybe you better try on some clothes, my dear." She glanced only briefly at where my hand was nestled between my plumped thighs. "I'm no prude, you understand. I know you'll want to get familiar with your new self. But maybe you could be persuaded to save that for later, huh?"
"Oh... yeah.., (puff)...Aunty!" Reluctantly my fingers withdrew from their unladylike position as Lea draped the long-forgotten robe over my shoulders, and led me toward one of the bureaus.
"You've been provided with an extensive wardrobe, my sweet." She began displaying the contents of several drawers. "Here's a rather large variety of panties, ...and here are your bras. Slips and corselets are here, hose and garters..here.."
We continued through drawers full of feminine finery.
Then we crossed to the spacious walk-in closet. It was almost as big as the bathroom! On the floor along one wall, shoe racks held an incredible array of female footwear, and not one pair had heels less than two inches high! The hangers above were crammed with blouses and skirts, all matched and arranged by color. On the opposite rack hung an equally profuse variety of dresses and gowns, ranging from a simple housedress to a strapless backless evening gown of silver lame that probably glowed in the dark. The shorter back wall was occupied by one of those closet organizers that you see ad's for in magazines and catalogs. It was a sturdy structure of slats and shelves that held purses and/or handbags, and a few pair of high-heeled boots.
Lea interrupted my gawking by pulling me into the bathroom where she showed me a small closet stocked with linen, towels, wash clothes, and other feminine toiletries that included a Lady Shick razor, first aid supplies, soap, shampoos, deodorant, and powders, just like the hodgepodge Janice had cluttered our bathroom with. On the small closet's floor sat a scale and a full- size portable hair dryer in its plastic case. And in a drawer beside the sink, Lea pointed out the tampons, pads, shields.
"You'll be needing these, young lady." Her smile seemed somewhat condescending, and I could tell she had a rather old-fashioned reservation about discussing 'nature's curse'. "Uh, you'll have to decide for yourself which protection you'll prefer.., and here..," she pulled open the mirror to expose three narrow glass shelves, "..are the aspirin, Mydol, Correctol, ...and these." With an twinkle in her eye and a smirk on her lips Lea handed me a flat oblong plastic container with bulges in its surface. I stared wide- eyed at the tiny white pills arranged in that distinctive pattern of numbered rows, and numbly shook my head. Damn, birth control pills!
"Take one," Lea suggested, filling a class with water, "..and every morning from now on. Make it a habit, I insist. And be sure to read the directions."
Somehow, a small white pill was in my hand, then in my mouth and being washed down my throat. *Lea, I won't..."
She stopped my objection by waggling a finger in my face. "Don't you dare tell me you won't need them. You do, and you will! It takes a full cycle before you're protected, and as soon as you've done all the exploring you can manage on your own, those raging hormones in your beautiful young body will have you wanting a man who's willing to help you explore further."
I grimaced as she again seemed to read my deeply buried private thoughts.
"Yes, Lora, you'll want to. It's only natural that you should, just like any other young woman. I'm not so prudish that I don't appreciate today's more liberal ideas about sex, you know." Her fingers tapped the plastic container in my palm. "All I ask is that you take these until you're better able to decide for yourself what you want. The alternatives could be terribly complicated, and would likely have lasting arid damaging effects on you. Take your time, my dear, there's lots of that, you know."
Confirming that I had indeed taken the first piII, she returned the case to the cabinet. "Now, don't forget to take one every single day. If you miss, you'll have start again. like you just did, and remain celibate for a full month, or longer, if you want a better safety margin."
What was really amazing, above and beyond the albeit incredibly extravagant physical transformation, was the fact that I was now, at least on paper, nineteen years old! And psychologically, if not physically (which was open for debate too), I was a virgin! But I pushed that thought away REAL FAST!
With Lea's urging, we returned to the dressers where I pulled on a pair of pink high-cut panties that Lea selected. The waistband hooked snugly over my prominent hipbones, where their positioning felt really strange, well above my old 'normal' waistline where they even covered my navel. I was even more conscious of the glossy translucent fabric pressing into the 'flatness' between my legs.
I stared in the vanity mirror at the beautiful reflection. "What now?" I seemed to always be asking that question, but couldn't think of a better one when I wanted to know what was about to happen next.
"For now, I'll fix your hair again, then you probably should get into some clothes, before we have lunch and discuss your future. Later, maybe I'll give you a makeup lesson."
I nodded inanely and again sat at the vanity while Lea pulled a brush through the mass of brown hair that covered my shoulders. Working at my scalp first, she caused some sharp tugging pains before the brush once again pulled smoothly through the thick waves. Then she parted it down the middle and draped one half forward over my shoulder where it fell across my exposed breast and almost brushed my lap.
"Long hair can be a nuisance," she warned, handing me a brush of my own. "You'd better start learning to care for it. Work out all the knots then keep brushing until it shines. The traditional rule is one hundred strokes, and that's after the tangles are cleared. Yours is so long and thick it might take more."
"A hundred? That'll take all day!" I groaned, dragging the brush through draping strands. The sharp bristles rasped over sensitive breast flesh, raking across the fat tender nipple. "Ouch!"
Lea laughed. "Here, silly, hold it away from you... like this. That rather substantial bosom of yours will definitely take getting used to."
Rubbing at my injured teat helped, but was also a decidedly provocative movement by the girl in the mirror. Stopping reluctantly, I held a fist full of hair and brushed at it while a twinge knotted my nipple into a plump hard knob.
My arms felt like rubber from the brushing by the time Lea threaded a wide white ribbon behind my neck and tied it in a bow atop my head to hold the hair out of my face. I was constantly aware of the gathered weight lying against my bare back, or brushing across a shoulder whenever I turned my head. Then I was tossing my head to get it back in place, or pulling loose strands away from my face. When I chanced to glimpse these gestures in a mirror, they appeared distinctly feminine.
"Whew, that's hard work," Lea complained good-naturedly. "Now, while I put together some lunch, you can get presentably attired." When my only response was a blank look, she added, "Lora, my dear, please get yourself dressed for lunch.'
When she'd gone, I pulled my eyes away from the Lady Godiva image and turned my attention to the challenge of deciding what and how much to wear. Always in the past I'd had such a meager collection available for 'dressing' that the question of what to wear never arose. Now, it was a major problem. I'm not (and never was) color bIind so that wasn't a factor, but the dazzling variety of underwear alone was mind-boggling. I wondered if maybe lunch could be avoided, or at least delayed, while I worked through my huge new wardrobe. But, no, Lea had been very specific. I could already hear her distant preparations, and the clock on the nightstand told me that the noon hour had already passed.
Underwear was an obvious place to start. But the choices were so confusing in bras alone, with the diversity of colors and designs rivaling those in a large department store's lingerie section. It was a major struggle just selecting a double-barreled 'container' for my prodigious bosom. I even toyed momentarily with the idea of going without, just for kicks, if for no other reason than to continue experiencing those delicious sensations produced by even the smallest movements. My unfettered breasts were never still, constantly bouncing and jiggling like thick Jell-O. But such a voluminous superstructure demanded support over the long term, or gravity and the ravages of time would pull them down to my knees.
I grabbed the first pink bra I could find, hoping it would match the panties, then frowned at its flimsiness. The cups were only half-sized, and all lace at that. Oh, what the hell!
I stuck my arms through the thin straps and shrugged them up over my shoulders. It took a bit of fumbling to get it fastened properly, but as I worked at it I marveled at my improved dexterity which allowed me to touch my fingers with one arm over my shoulder and the other reaching up from behind. But I couldn't quite get the hooks lined up right, while my melon- sized teats were askew in the cups. Then I remembered that Janice would lean over to settle her jugs into position, while reaching back for the fasteners. It worked. I was extremely pleased with myself as I took a quick look in the mirror, then stopped short! My impressive frontage was supported well enough with some of the weight transferred to the straps, relieving the strain on my chest muscles. But the small cups barely concealed my nipples completely, and the resulting cleavage was cavernous.
I dug through the stockings. Garters and hose were sexier and more appealing to my old transvestite inclinations and I knew garters went under panties, but managing them would take some doing. Pantyhose were more practical and easier, so I grabbed a packet. Hmm, do panties go over or under hose? Well, I could try them under the panties next time, ...or maybe ask Lea. Then I promptly 'laddered' them with my nails while trying to pull them on. It took some practice, and three mangled pairs before figuring out how to avoid getting my long nails hung up in the sheer threads. When finally in place, hooked securely about my hips and expanded buttocks, the sheer flexible net looked painted on, and gave my legs a glossy shine.
Damn, I had really nice gams!
Leaving the slips and other intimates for another time, I was ready to choose a dress, but which one. The closet was stuffed with such a range of styles and lengths! Here again, conservative seemed safest, at least for now. Sticking with the underwear's 'girlish pink' theme made it a lot easier to select a sleeveless floral cotton print with a scooped neck and snap front. I dropped it over my head, secured the front, then pulled my long mane from beneath the collar where it had been trapped. The dress fit perfectly against my svelte figure, snug at waist and bodice, where about an acre of lovely white breast flesh was exposed by the low-cut neckline. The full skirt was hemmed to about an inch above my above the knees.
The assortment of shoes was intimidating too, and I couldn't find a single pair with functionally low heels. Everything was 2- inches or higher. There was even a pair of six-inch black stilettos that could have come straight out of a bad bondage movie. Discarding the possibility of altogether avoiding shoes, and accepting the inevitable, I retrieved a pair of pink (naturally) three-inch leather pumps and stuffed my stockinged feet into them (they fit perfectly, of course). Then I tried circumnavigating the room to get the feel of walking in them.
After moving into the upstairs apartment, I had acquired a pair of sexy four- inch slings, but they turned out to be almost two sizes too small, and made my feet and calves hurt so much I rarely wore them.
Now, though, with the right physiology, and a proper fit, those same muscles hardly objected as I pranced about the room. Before long I barely noticed their height, as I was too busy noticing that my new anatomy was adapting deliciously, my curvaceous legs balanced and generous hips oscillating deliciously!
Finally, Lora was ready to face the world, starting with the kitchen and Lea.
In nervous anticipation, I opened the door. Just a few paces down the hallway, I had an anxiety attack that twisted my stomach into a knot. The staccato click of my heels on the hardwood floor, the unfamiliar sway of hips, jiggling breasts (despite the bra's minimal support), and the flutter of long hair against my neck, all combined to agitate a growing sense of dualism, much like what I always felt when 'dressed'. My old male self was pounding on the door of his cell, screaming to be noticed, and making me to feel like I was back in drag again, still male beneath that incredibly realistic exterior.
But those same sensations also testified irrefutably that this particular disguise went to the bone, probably even down to the most basic genetic level. 'Mr. Macho' fell silent as I forced a smile on my lovely young face to mask the trepidation beneath.
Moments later I had joined Lea in the kitchen.
"Ah, there you are, My Dear," she said with a huge smile. Then, she pulled me into an firm hug, and an affectionate kiss on the cheek. (I was profoundly aware of our breasts pressing together.) "Hmmm., your taste in clothes is hardly flashy, but quite functional all the same. Let's have lunch and we'll discuss your duties."
"My duties?" I squeaked, plopping my full buns into a chair. My bust jostled noticeable with a heavy tug at each bra strap. Before me was a salad, a glass of milk, and half a sandwich.
"Yes, Lora, my pet," she said between bites. "As my niece, and as a member of this household, it's only natural that you should share in the chores. First, though, we'll try to get you caught up on some of the things you've missed by not having grown up female. You've a lot to learn about being a young lady in today's world, and it's best that you do so as quickly as possible."
My stomach growled so I played with the salad while she lectured me on what was expected of her new niece.
Since Lea's volunteer work and social schedule took her away from the house most days and some evenings, I was now responsible for the general housework, including our combined laundry. I would be expected to be share her charitable interests, whenever possible. Specifically, I would be volunteering at the hospital as a "candy striper" every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon starting in two weeks.
Added to all that, and more importantly, Lea would provide me with much needed 'basic training' on makeup and hair care, to catch me up with what a typical nineteen-year-old would know.
Then she dropped a real bombshell by declaring that I would soon be enrolled at a local beauty college to "further my education". If I wished, I could also attend business school, where I could acquire secretarial skills. Lea was certainly a 'traditionalist'. No Women's Lib for her! And apparently not for me either, which was no small loss since I'd always thought that particular 'movement' generally created more problems and caused more harm than it did good.
Dumbfounded at her plans for me, I did no more than nod politely and fiddle with my food, surprised that I was satisfied with only a few small bites. Lea had finished and was putting her dishes in the dishwasher while I was still pushing my salad around the plate.
After clearing the table, we returned to my room.
"Lora, do you think you'll be happy here?" my 'Aunt' asked
I looked at my teenage reflection and turned to answer. "Yes, I do. After what you've done I can hardly disappoint you, now can I?" My grin showed even pearly white teeth. "You've given me youth, security, and fulfilled my deepest wish. You bet I'll be happy! I'm not all that thrilled with the drudgery of housework, but I'd have had that living alone anyway. Besides, if I have to learn to be female, that certainly comes with the territory."
"It does, indeed. And there's one other thing I'll ask of you," she added. Taking down a large box from the closet's shelf, she placed it on the bed and lifted the lid. Within lay a profusion of black satin and white lace. What she laid out on the bed for me to see was a French maid's costume: shiny black satin dress with ultra-short skirt and white lace trim; heavily starched, snow- white stiffly starched crinolines; and a black cap also trimmed in white lace. There was also a black lace garter belt, fishnet stockings, and black patent- leather pumps with a mirror finish and five-inch skyscraper heels.
"My God, Lea," I gasped, "that's the sexiest, outfit I've ever seen! And you want me to wear it? Ha... I'd be arrested for indecent exposure!"
Lea smiled with her entire face. "Yes, my dear, it is daring and sexy, and it's for you. But I'll only ask you to wear it on very special occasions, which aren't often, like the rare formal dinner parties I have here for my most intimate acquaintances. You won't be arrested either, since you'll be simply scrumptious in it. Besides, you'll probably love wearing it just as much as others will enjoy seeing you in it, myself including. Andrea got a real kick out of what it did for her figure, and my male quests were ogling her and constantly sneaking in a healthy pinch at every opportunity too, I'm afraid. The other ladies were simply green with envy," she laughed heartily.
Noticing my gawking stare, she added, "Oh, don't worry, it'll be some time before I'll ask you to be seen in it. You'll need to learn much about feminine ways before you'll be able to do this costume the justice that both it and you deserve. When you can wear it and take pleasure in how delectable it feels on your body, and the effect it has on those around you, then you and I will both know that your transition into womanhood is complete. In fact, given your past...uh... proclivities, I wouldn't be a surprised if you asked me sometime soon to try it on. Your personality very likely contains a penchant toward exhibitionism which this uniform will fulfil quite impressively."
A lot of hard work lay ahead, so I pushed her comments to the back of my beleaguered mind. With an expansive wave at my new residence, I asked, "So, where do I start."
"You've started already, but this...." From one of the vanity's drawers she pulled a large catalog-sized book titled, "Cosmetology; The Art of Beauty, ".. should occupy you for a while. You've proven to be a good student in your studies, so this shouldn't be too difficult. Have you ever tried makeup?"
"Uh..no.., never more than a bit of eye shadow and lipstick."
"Hmm.., well, no time like the present." She gently took my chin in her hand and turned my head from side to side, inspecting my face from every angle. "My, but you're a lovely young lady, Lora! When you've mastered some basic makeup skills, you'll become quite beautiful, I'm sure. Now," she tapped the book which now sat on the vanity, "..see what you can learn from this. You should have everything you need right here. I'll be back later to check on your progress." With that, she again left me to fend for myself.
I wanted desperately to ask her to help as she had with my hair. But, just as when she'd left me to dress myself, it was apparent, she wanted me to do most of this 'indoctrination' on my own, at my own pace.
The thick book was full of illustrated step-by-step instructions on the fine art of feminine face painting. There were innumerable variations of 'presentation' depending on the time of day, the occasion, color and style of hair and clothes, and a host of other factors that determined what, how many, where, how much to use!
Whenever taking up a new project or challenge, I always took great pride in doing it right, and to the best of my ability. So, I spent the next several hours following the detailed steps of each section, and struggling to 'put on' my face in various ways. My 'makeup session' was interrupted only briefly by a few trips to the toilet, and discovering that such a basic human function can be an entirely unique experience. The sensation of 'need' was deeper, kind of a pressure in the vaginal area. And it was harder to delay than before. Then there was the actual 'event'. First, I had to clear away all that feminine finery: skirt hiked up around my waist, panties and hose pulled down to my knees. Then, of cours, actually being forced to sit just to pee, and wiping afterwards, all which had been optional before. Everything was different about it, the stream's exit point, angle, and the sudden forceful volume, and it was faster too. Overall, I found it profoundly less convenient than standing.
By the time Lea announced dinner, I was rather pleased with my progress. I wasn't poking my eye with the mascara brush anymore, and had become reasonably adept at duplicating several of the book's illustrations.
But after hours of putting on the various cosmetics, then cleaning them off to start again, my face felt like it had been thoroughly scrubbed by a Brillo pad. When Lea called, more foundation was needed to cover my abused face than when I started. And it had taken me almost all that time to learn how to lean forward or reach over my monumental bust so my arms weren't constantly rubbing against my breasts.
My efforts had taken a great deal of attention, of course, but I still found it impossible to avoid the dramatic sensations coming from my new body. Whenever I brushed against my encased mammaries, or glimpsed a reflected image of exposed mounds and deep cleavage, I'd stop and stare down in admiration and wonder at my ballooning frontage, narrow waist, and dramatically flared hips. Several times, I paused just to run my dainty fingers over my curvaceous, spreading hips and thighs. I sensed how firmly my new uncluttered crotch pressed against the stool's padded seat, and how decorously my legs could be crossed without male plumbing in the way. This was all very disconcerting, but positively delightful, and made it very hard to concentrate on the chore at hand. And it was a chore, no doubt about that!
Eventually Lea checked on my progress. "You're doing quite nicely, Lora dear. Now wipe off that hooker face you've painted on yourself and do it up lightly for dinner. It'll be ready by the time you are. Afterward you'll be free to bury yourself in your new wardrobe, and tomorrow we'll continue your education."
I dutifully scrubbed away my efforts (to the further dismay of my abused skin) and did the basics -light foundation, blue shadow, mascara, pencil on brows, quick swipe of blush, and pink lipstick (at least I'd learned that much since I still wore the pink dress). Thus 'prepared', I hurried into the kitchen.
I should have been famished, but another small salad and a single cup of pekoe tea were enough to quell my appetite. Habit and my mind argued for more than that scanty meal, but I bit back the mild complaint when Lea anticipated my comment and explained that I must watch my figure much more closely, so that others would too (heehee). I thought I'd been doing just that for the past several hours, but took her words to heart and was content to chew lettuce and sip tea. After all, I didn't want my luscious new body going to fat! (If it were yours, neither would you!)
Like a girl on a shopping spree, which is exactly how it felt, I spent the rest of the evening modeling my new feminine wardrobe before the mirror - lingerie, shoes, the works, often with Lea's admiring presence. The underwear included skimpy 'tap' panties, briefers, half and full slips of various lengths and styles, and even a few incredibly sexy bustiers and corselets. There was even an incredibly sexy Victorian-style corset with such a tiny waist it looked like it would cut me in half.
The bras, as I'd previously noted, ranged from a lace confection with thin spaghetti straps that was virtually transparent, to a heavy cotton "full support reducer". All were in the 36-C or D range, and most of the cups were only sculpted for half or three-quarter 'coverages' that promised to expose extensive acreages of breast flesh.
Like everything else, pantyhose and stockings were available in a rainbow of colors from sheer-to-waist to French-cut 'off black', and garters, naturally (somewhat old-fashioned, but terribly exotic and sexy). There were a few swimsuits as well, though all but one were miniscule bikini's in white, red, leopard (!!), and pink (of course). The lone one-piece suit was a pink and blue marbled number with a deep-cut neckline that was so thin that you could count the dimples on my expanded areolas.
The shoes could have stocked any moderate sized store, and there wasn't a flat sole in the lot. There was a whole spectrum of styles and colors, even a pair of red sling pumps with five-inch heels that resembled an exotic version of Dorothy's famous ruby slippers in Oz. It was astonishing how easily my long shapely legs adapted to even the highest heels. While working my way through them, the mirror testified that the higher the heel the longer and more curvaceous my legs appeared, and the sexier was my carriage. The more elevated shoes also caused considerably greater gyrations of my pelvis, and I was constantly aware that navigating in them made my breastworks bounce and jiggle even more heavily. Once, when I tried on a white sheath mini- dress with matching pumps, the wiggle of my ass and quaking chest reminded me of something. Then I knew -- Marilyn Monroe prancing along the train platform in the classic "Some Like it Hot"! The similarity was so shocking, despite my brown and much longer hair. I had to sit down to stop shaking. But my eyes stayed riveted to my provocative reflection.
Much later, with eyes drooping and body thoroughly wearied, I selected a green and white teddy. The matching panties pulled smoothly over my hips, and diaphanous top dropped down over my soft pliant new body like a dreamy cloud. I reluctantly hauled my voluptuous curves toward the bed.
Almost immediately, I got inquisitive. I tweaked a fat nipple and got a tingling spasm of electric warmth. Soon one set of delicate fingers overflowed with the silken alabaster ramparts that bulged from my chest, while the other hand finding its way to the warmth between my legs.
I explored, finding the new clitoral nub, and discovering it's incredible sensitivity, like having the glans of my uncircumcised dong stuck flat (or almost so) against my crotch. Long slim digits, then a long-handled hairbrush explored the depths of my new womanhood, and very quickly introduced me to the wonders of the female orgasm. It was so sudden and unexpected that at first I didn't realize what it was, yet somehow the experience of such a fantastic explosion of fiery glory, something seemed to be missing.
With a rush of renewed heat that flared through my breasts and belly, I realized what wasn't there - a man! At that instant, what I wanted more than anything in the world was to be made love to as thoroughly and completely as only a man could. I'd never had a gay experience in my life, nor given serious consideration to that 'alternative', despite a few blatant offers by a couple of the raving 'fruits' who attended the Group meetings occasionally. What I felt at that moment was different, totally "hetero" in nature. Hell, I was a woman now, right? So was it wrong for me to want a man's lips on mine? ..his hungry mouth ravishing my corpulent breasts? ...a long thick baton plunging deep into my moist tunnel, knocking heatedly at the door of my newly installed womb? Wasn't I being the horny woman that I should be by wanting his wiggly-saturated onslaught exploding into the new-sprung uterine grotto within my belly to meet their destiny and fulfill mine?
(Whew! I do get carried away sometimes, don't I? Maybe it'd be nice to go wake up ... No, he's had a long hard day. Better let him rest, for now anyway, and finish this narrative.)
So, to continue, that was the first day of the rest of my life as an attractive young woman named Lora Marie Covington. A rather startling and magnificent beginning, I must say. And I can never in five lifetimes thank Aunt Lea enough for giving me such a wonderful gift, a new lease on life. Although I am trying in my own small way to repay her.
Every waking moment brought a new experience, or something else that was needed to further my indoctrination into the wonderfully exciting and sometimes difficult world of womanhood. After all, to the world, Miss Lora M. Covington had recently graduated from high school (Lea even had the papers to prove it, including; a birth certificate, Social Security card, high school transcripts-and even a driver's license!!), and such a young lady would have already become thoroughly adept at and would mostly take for granted such things as clothes, hair, and all the other female things that constituted her existence. So, my education was concentrated, thorough, well rounded (like m, teehee) hard work, and I had to absorb it quickly out of self- defense!
My second day as Lora Covington was exhausting.
Lea kept me so busy, I hardly had time to consider the lovely sensations of my sumptuous body. With considerable attention to detail, she proceeded to explain the fundamentals of modern housekeeping. I was introduced to the complicated (to me) drudgery of laundering femme dainties, mostly by hand since the aging washer and dryer were a bit hard on nylon and silk). I was also given a short but thorough tour of the kitchen before Lea abruptly put me to work practicing the fine art of manicures and pedicures.
That same afternoon, she escorted me on my first public outing when we made a quick trip to the grocer. It had to happen sometime, of course. But the-prospect was almost as hard to deal with as if Janice had thrown me out in the that fateful night while still in her old clothes.
Endeavoring to fight the anxiety that engulfed me, I spent a good deal of time deciding what to wear after shrugging off the peasant blouse, A line skirt, add black pumps that I'd been wearing since morning. Opting to stick with my current underwear (lacy strapless bra, sheer white nylon panties, and sheer-to-waist pantyhose), I sorted through the clutter for a long time before simply grabbing something from the rack, with my eyes shut. The skirt of the white-on-white cotton-poly blend dress had triple-tier flounces, piping around the plunging neckline, and extended sleeves. It wasn't exactly your average everyday attire, but I didn't want to go through the hassle of looking for something else, especially when Lea impatiently stuck her head in the door and found me standing in my panties, staring into the wild nowheres. I had some trouble managing the keyhole buttons up the back, but at least my newfound dexterity made them easy to reach. The push-up bra I'd worn all day offered considerable terrain for visual inspection and the short hem exposed at least three inches of thigh above my knees. Two-inch white sling pumps rounded out the set.
I even decided to try some jewelry, selecting a small teardrop amethyst pendant on a silver chain. The stone sat exactly at the upper tip of my awesome cleavage. Then I started sorting through the earrings and discovered that they all had posts or hooks for pierced ears! Out of curiosity, I checked my ears in the mirror and found that Lea's fancy 'make over' of my anatomy had even include that too! Both lobes were pierced - twice each!! Jeez, how could I have missed that? Especially when I'd spent so much time at such close quarters with that mirror during makeup sessions. (Lea was surprised too, when I mentioned it to her later.) At least the holes were well healed, so I avoided going through the aggravation that new punctures would have entailed.
A quick dab of rose lip-gloss, a brush of the hair, and my new, Junoesque femaleness stepped out into the world.
After the second week, Lea kept her promise and enrolled me at one of the local beauty colleges. I jumped into the 'Hair Stylist' and Cosmetology courses with gusto, and graduated with honors at the end of the abbreviated three-month schedule.
By then, of course, I had the dubious 'honor' of needing to learn the inelegant art of feminine hygiene!
When I found that first dark red stain in my panties, it scared the hell out of me. Lea said I reacted just like any young girl's usually does at her first menses. Its onset also was the final irrefutable proof (which was hardly needed by then) that I was absolutely, totally and completely a FEMALE! And Lea proceeded to instruct my on the options available: pads, tampons, and panty shields.
Fortunately, it seemed I would not need the Midol since there was little discomfort. I noticed some mild cramps and swelling ankles, but hadn't recognized them as indicators of THAT. But in hindsight, they was quite distinctive for about two days before, though my periods turned out to be low in volume, of short duration (about three days), and thus quite manageable, for which I was extremely grateful, given the fact that it could have been a lot worse.
Having completed beauty school, Lea again had her way and I entered business college and took up studies to become a legal secretary. It was much harder and far more demanding since I had to learn skills I'd never been exposed to before, especially shorthand. It was like learning a foreign language, at which I had been singularly unsuccessful in the past. Lea adamantly refused to assist my studies with her magic. But, again, I excelled, mostly to spite 'Aunty'. Then, since my duties at home took so little of my time after I'd mastered the routine stuff, Lea got me a part-time clerical position at her lawyer's offices, which included some light secretarial duties.
All this activity would have drastically curtailed the social life of any average young lady of my assumed age, and that 'average' gal would probably have been thoroughly upset that her social calendar was in such a sorry state. Mine was nonexistent! And I didn't mind a bit.
Now, don't get the notion that my life was dull. It wasn't! Lea made sure of that by organizing frequent teas, luncheons, or dinners for small groups of friends, which included practically everyone of any consequence in the community. My primary function was, of course, to help with whatever preparations were required, and be a good co-hostess, since Lea wanted me visible and took exceptional pride in introducing her 'niece' to anyone and everyone. For a few very special occasions, I even wore that saucy little maid's uniform to spice up the festivities. Naturally, Lea was right, I-dearly loved the sensuous feelings that stirred my bosom while mincing about serving drinks or refreshing a drink, and reveled in the reaction of those who enjoyed the delectable picture I presented in that ultra-brief confection!
But my social situation, exclusive of Lea, and my re-education, was a vast wasteland, devoid of any independent life of my own. Oh, if I'd been so inclined, there were plenty of offers, especially once I started moving about less self-consciously and mixing with people at the beauty school or business college. In fact, there were more than a few outright propositions, which necessitated my rapid education in the unique art of repelling such ardent advances. Despite the revealing nature of my entire wardrobe, I spurned all comers (yuck!), which quickly earned me the dubious label of "cock teasing prude" among the young male crowd.
Conversely, I would often lie in bed late at night with my favorite brush- handle shoved between my legs and fantasizing about the real thing! No matter how hard or for how long I tried, never again did I quite duplicate that glowing orgasmic height achieved that first time, and what small orgasmic hillocks I could achieve were becoming progressively weaker. Was I burning myself out? It wasn't hard to figure out what was really happening. The obvious fact was that I'd have to mend my ways soon and rid myself of the 'frigid' reputation I had acquired, or I'd end up a horny, frustrated old maid. I didn't want that, but the alternative was almost as frightening! The mere thought of sex with a man chilled my spine and produced goose flesh, sending conflicting tremors of fear/desire through my heaving jugs and twitching twat. But dealing with a man on a intimate level as a woman was unknown territory. Compared to that, the social intercourse was easy!
Lea once more came to the rescue, and the way she "played Cupid" was almost as flabbergasting as her 'bewitchment' of me.
The upstairs apartment had remained empty after I'd 'vacated' to new downstairs rooms, and while we devoted our full attention to my 're- education', since Lea didn't want any of the complications that a renter might cause. So I was quite surprised to arrive home one day to find that same old "APARTMENT FOR RENT" sign posted in the front window.
Lea was in the parlor (her favorite room), with her knitting (my first lessons on THAT was to start that evening), and gave her a girlish peck on the cheek that left a scarlet smear. "Hi, Aunty, you finally renting the apartment?"
"It's about time, don't you think?" She peeked slyly over her glasses. "And if the new resident is a reasonably attractive young man, maybe we can convince him to take our little weight program, eh?" Her wink made me grin widely as my imagination ran wild, then she cooled my jets quickly by adding, "Better yet, you might decide he's the one who'll satisfy your curiosity."
"What do you mean, Auntie?" I quipped innocently, but the blush under the blush on my cheeks probably rivaled the reddest rose in her precious garden as I fidgeted nervously. All I needed was a hunk of a man living upstairs while I lay in bed staring at the ceiling that separated us. Whew!
"Don't you put on airs with ne!" Lea scolded. "You know perfectly well what I mean, my sweet lovely little sex-starved wench." Then she sighed heavily and turned back to her knitting. "The whole idea's probably moot anyway since someone's already contacted me about the rooms, and I'm sure she'll take it."
"She?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, Lora, and she's coming by after dinner tonight, so be on your best behavior, Dear," she warned. "Sometimes you forget to show the proper ladylike respect for older folks that a young Iady should."
"I'll do my best, Ma'am," I executed a deep curtsey, "but it's so hard when my mental age is almost forty years. However, I'll make an extra special effort to be a sweet little girl. So, who's this perspective tenant? Some ancient old widow who will bore me to death with stories about her grandkids? Or is she a pretty college coed who'll be my extra-special girlfriend?" I chortled. "What?"
"None of the above, you imp. She's a childless divorcee of about thirty-six, and I've known her for most of her life. Now stop your prattle and go start dinner while I finish this row."
Usually I'm curious about our guests, but didn't pursue the subject. Later, when I answered the doorbell's ring, I deeply regretted the oversight. My heart felt like a third hard lump on my chest and my spine iced over.
Janice stood there in front of my!
"Good evening, Miss," she greeted me warmly.
Seeing my ex-wife brought back all the old pain and misery in one maddening flash. I fought desperately to maintain a casual facade as my emotions reeled. Worst of all was the terrible memory of almost the last time we been face-to-face - when she found me in her old discarded clothes. Now I stood before her wearing a white silk blouse and black pleated skirt that didn't reach my knees, long hair flowing over my shoulders, half-exposed breasts pointing saucily at her like two howitzers. (I couldn't help but notice hers pointing back, though they were completely covered by her sweater.) All those old feelings of rejection and guilt came crashing back, and it took physical effort to keep them from boiling to the surface.
Janice interrupted my gawking silence. "Uh, Miss, is Lea at home? I'm Janice Rossman, an old friend. She's expecting me."
"Oh, yes, hello, uh..., please come in," I stammered, grinding my teeth a bit too much while making the supreme effort to appear calm and friendly. To Janice I was just the pretty girl who answered the door! Then I realized that, in a very strange way, we'd never met, and calmness swept over me that obliterated the writhing emotions. "We've been expecting you. If you'll follow me, Aunt Lea's in the parlor."
" I know where it is," she responded rather haughtily and brushed past me.
Lea rose when we entered and they shared an affectionate hug. "Well, Janice, it's been quite some time since you checked in on your old Auntie. How have you been, my dear?"
It was strange to realize that I was somewhat jealous of the attention Janice was getting, and even resenting Lea using those same affectionate terms that I'd thought were for me alone. But that was the way she talked to everyone, young and old, stranger or friend, though not quite with that same tone of affection. I quickly brushed away the annoyance, focusing instead on the undeniably peculiar situation in which Lea had placed us all, though Janice was blissfully unaware of it.
"I've bee pretty good, Aunt Lea," Janice replied, "alI things considered."
Lea turned her towards me and introduced us formally. "Janice, this is my niece, Lora Marie. Lora, this is Janice Hay...Rossman, an old and dear of mine."
We shook hands lightly, and I hoped she didn't notice me trembling. Even as nervous as I was, it was impossible to suppress the sudden desire to prod her a bit. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Rossman."
"It's 'MRS'!" she corrected firmly. "But I'm divorced, so just call me Janice?" She turned before I could respond. "How many nieces do you have, Lea? Seems like every few year there's a new one."
Lea beamed. "Oh, I've never really bothered counting. Besides, their seem to be more added to the list all the time, so why keep track." She gave me a knowing glance that I answered with a wan smile.
Janice, of course, became our new tenant.
Note: TG magic married wedding dress crossdress deals ftm long nails
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