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Manicure... pedicure... my nails are turned to a pink to match my panties. Fun... so I think until the notion of the Monday work day comes to mind. Then, unexplainably I begin to whimper.
Why? Such an unmanly reaction.
Unanswerable, just as is the intensity of the blushing... the goose bumps... the crinkling nipples.
“What’s the matter, Renee, you look very pretty?” Miss Lalique softly inquires.
“I don’t know. But everyone will be looking at me.”
“Pretty girls like to be looked at. You will enjoy it.”
Her counseling somewhat composes. Next, she opens my pocket book and extracts the many cosmetics assembled, the girl who pierced explaining each small bottle and tube. Lots to learn and we review the need for each dainty item.
Then the buzzer for the main entrance sounds and the delivery men announce themselves over the intercom. I instruct Miss Lalique how to offer access and arise intending to hide myself from what I assume to be the muscular earthiness about to invade my apartment... certainly not to be as understanding as the many women tending to my... my what? My condition I suppose.
Miss Lalique buzzes them in and turns.
“Where are you going, Renee?”
“I can’t be seen.”
“But you will. Come back here this instant.”
“Please no, Miss Lalique. They are men and I have no... no clothing.”
“You have your panties. That’s enough. Or should I take them away and have you show yourself to the men completely... fully displaying every inch of that plumping hairless body.”
I blush. The words... so strong... so driving home my fear... my concern. And yet there comes the twinge. There is strange excitement. I stammer. I cannot find words of protest... realizing that whatever utterance comes to mind will be futile.
It’s been such a long day. Ups... downs... prancing about naked... then in tight pink panties... being pierced... adorned with makeup and now the stunning pink nails. My mind becomes addled as there comes a knock on my apartment door and Miss Lalique slides open the bolt.
My change of life has arrived... and with it the most stultifying exhibition to date. To be nearly naked... in front of men!
“Come in, boys. And please do not mind my niece, Renee. She’s so eager to try on her new clothing she could not stay dressed and wait.”
My panties! The protruding buttocks are bad enough. But with the tightness at the front, my penis, however diminutive, presses forth. There appears to be the outline of a pinky finger, though soft, limp, and useless. Still, it evidences my gender... my former gender?
Will they notice?
How odd... to want to be observed as a girl... not a man. I want to act out the ruse... want them to think of me as feminine!
My nipples crinkle and I suppose, with the men believing me to be underage, they try to look away. Miss Lalique just smiles at my quandary. I freeze and dare not move, try not to draw attention, concerned about further tantalizing in showing more of me... or worse... offer a sultry view of soft, newly rounded buttocks.
Miss Lalique tips generously. The ten minutes spent checking the contents of the many boxes seem like an eternity.
Finally, they leave. I will forever wonder as to what conclusions they came.
***
My pounding heart slows. Miss Lalique has me remove my panties, desiring to see all of me. And of course I am compliant, for some reason placing my hands on my head as she becomes rather stern.
“You’ll have all of tomorrow to try on your new things – such wonderful soft and smooth garments. It will make you feel so alluring, but for now there’s just a little more work to b
e done. You were not impressive in heels. Put on the four inch set for me.”
Once again I am completely naked before a fully clothed woman. There comes the twinge as I slip into the impossible footwear... impossible in which to walk with any degree of aplomb.
As I encircle my calves with the straps, just as the girls at the shop showed me, Miss Lalique retrieves a wand from her purse. Some eight inches long, it telescopes to extend to some two feet. My perplexity is brief as when I arise and attempt to take an initial step, my slight stumble earns a crisp tap to my well presented buttocks. It hurts... not overwhelming... but I certainly know I have been corrected... and seek to avoid more.
