©2020 - Foxxe Wilder

A typical day for a street musician takes a sharp turn into the atypical.

 

 

(Author's note, Damien now takes on Tracey as his persona with all related pronouns.)


Tracey followed Shadow down the hallway stopping at a door. Shadow opened the door and motioned Tracey inside, “So when was the last time you showered?”

“Oh heck I can't remember,” Tracey replied honestly, “Why, do I...?”

She paused indicating her right armpit.

“Oh no, it's nothing like that, I just thought if you wanted to, you could feel free to grab a shower. I live alone so no one will bother us,” Shadow explained.

Tracey looked down at herself once again. No matter how many times she looked down at herself did it ever get any easier. It was always a shock to her eyes.

But the offer of a shower was far too enticing. The late afternoon turned into a never ending nightmare complete with foot races and Tracey needed to remove the emotional weight of the day.

“Or you could have a bath instead,” Shadow offered, “just relax and unwind a bit. I'll be in the kitchen cleaning up and maybe we can burn one after you get out.”

Tracey looked around the apartment. This was definitely not something she'd expect from anyone that was on the street, but then again it had been a few years since she'd met Shadow. Many things could have changed since then.

“This place is fantastic! You must be doing really well down on the strip,” Tracey commented.

“Oh yeah, I do pretty good with the gramming down there. I have about a half dozen middlers going everyday for me but I have other pursuits as well. I mean we all have our sugar daddies right?”

Tracey smiled and agreed, “Oh yes but some are not so affluent.”

“Oh well mine come from a higher ranking in the social order,” Shadow smiled slightly, “and I always keep a few on the line for emergencies.”

“Anyway, you go take your bath and help yourself to the oils and bath bombs. Pamper yourself! I'm sure it's been a while since you've had such opportunities,” Shadow replied as she turned toward the kitchen.

Tracey stepped into the bathroom. It was huge. There was enough room within it to put an entirety of a local hotel room within it and still have room for more.

The bathtub was a reissue of the classic clawfoot tubs of the early twentieth century.

As she was checking out the room she heard Shadow approach the door. Shadow tapped on the door then entered with a white terry cloth robe over her arm, “You can change into this after your bath. You can toss out your underwear too. I have a few things you can have.”

She looked at Tracey and smiled apologetically, “but I'm afraid I have no bras in your size though.”

Tracey blushed slightly, “Well admittedly I am not wearing one at all. I guess I really don't need one consider my size and all.”

“Well I didn't want to be the one to say it like that, but you're right. Back when I was B cup I didn't bother with a bra at all. You are so lucky that way,” Shadow said.

“Okay thanks,” Tracey replied as she turned on the bath water.

“I'll leave you to it then,” Shadow said then slipped out of the bathroom, softly closing the door behind her.

Tracey was still appalled. In all the years she had spent on the streets, she had never seen anyone with such a home. Even her own family didn't have such things.

She looked down at herself and sighed. It was just a matter of time before she was going to have to become acquainted with Tracey's body and the time was nigh.

She pulled off the pink teeshirt, now slightly soiled from squeezing out of the abandoned building, freeing up the girls.

Seeing them like this was a totally new experience.

As Damien, she had only ever seen boobs from the third person point of view. This was a very new and very different situation.

They stood out firm in their conviction to be the harbingers of female identity.

She ran shaky hands over them, avoiding touching the nipples entirely. She wasn't sure what to expect from them and didn't really want to find out too soon.

Then there was all that sort of stuff below. Was she really ready to go there?

As Damien, she would have loved to see Trace this way but this was more intensive than she ever expected.

She could feel what was down there. She was aware of everything, from the tips of her toes and on upwards.

“Shit, what's the difference?” she said aloud to herself testing the water in the tub and shutting off the flow, “I can feel it anyways, and I do need a bath. Hmm. What about those bath bombs?”

She looked around and found a series of clear glass containers on a shelf. One had oil beads of varying colours, another had bath bombs and still others contained various powders and articles she couldn't readily identify.

She grabbed one red oil bead and one red bath bomb and dropped them in the water, watching with interest as the bath bomb bubbled and fizzled in the water.

It only took a few minutes before it stopped and by then the water had also gained from the effects of the red bath bead, which was cherry scented by the smell of it.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Trace announced to herself as she slipped out of the black tights, discovering a pair of matching black underwear beneath. She stepped out of them without looking at her nether regions.

She was putting it off. Surely she would have to give in and look.

“Come on, you are just being silly,” she told herself aloud, “it's just a matter of time before you have to deal with it and that is eventually going to be far more intimate than just disrobing!”

She took a deep breath and took a tentative look down.

“Holy crap, I can barely even see it at all!” she commented.

Tracey was a girl who was into personal landscaping though. She had maintained a specific look to her parts. Damien had always referred to such things as 'a relocated Hitler moustache'.

She smiled at the irony, as she gingerly stepped into the soothing hot waters.

Shadoe's voice sounded from behind the bathroom door, shattering Tracey's quiet solitude. She realized that she had fallen asleep, such was the relaxing effect of the bath.

“Hey! Are you still alive in there?” she called, “It's been almost an hour and I was getting worried out here!”

Tracey stirred, suddenly aware that the bath waters had grown colder, “Oh I'm sorry, I got so relaxed that I must have drifted off, I'll be right out. Sorry about that!”

Tracey stepped out of the bath, no longer worried about any of her new body parts, unplugged the stopper and reached for the white robe Shadoe left behind.

She had barely had time to put it on her shoulders when Shadoe opened the door. In reflex Tracey rushed to get her arms in and her front covered up.

Shadoe chuckled, “Seriously girl, you don't really think you have anything I haven't seen before?”

Tracey felt herself blush and responded, “Oh yeah, sorry. It's just my reflexes.”

She tied up the robe by the sash and followed Shadoe out the door.

As she entered the livingroom she heard music from a local rock radio station and could smell cinnamon and apple in the air.

“I heated up some apple pie added some whip cream and poured a couple glasses of wine for us”, Shadoe smiled proudly, “I thought maybe I could entice you out.”

Tracey smiled in response, “you sure know the way to my heart!”

“Oh I've known that for a while now girl!” Shadoe laughed, “Apples and cinnamon, Trace's kryptonite.”

“I appreciate it, but do me a favour,” Tracey replied, “After today's events I'm not so sure that I can ever use my street name Trace anymore. So much has happened that I think that I should leave that behind as well. Just call me by my real name, Tracey.”

“Okay, Tracey it is then,” Shadoe smiled, “So obviously you didn't get the nickname from any artistic endeavours?”

Tracey chuckled, “oh no, I can barely draw a conclusion never mind being able to draw anything on paper!”

“Cute saying, I've got to remember that one,” Shadoe answered picking up a freshly rolled joint, “Now lets sit down for some pie and wine! I have dessert all ready!”

“Hey wait a minute,” Tracey asked, “Isn't the pie the dessert?”

“Not in this case, babe!” Shadoe laughed.

“You seem to be pretty shaken up over all that shit downtown today, what for?”

Shadoe asked after she cleared off the two dessert plates from the table.

“Oh well I've never been one for chases. I'm definitely not the person everyone seems to think I am.”

“Oh trust me, girl, no one is,” Shadoe said, “I mean you didn't expect this kind of place from a street chick like me, did you?”

“Was it that obvious?” Tracey asked feeling a bit nervous.

“Oh hell, I'd have thought the same way too if I were you,” she replied.

If I were you. Those words stuck out in Tracey's mind.

“If you only knew,” she thought.

“Well, after we smoke this joint we can go into my closet and you can pick whatever you want!” Shadoe smiled, “but first, the inspiration!”

She pulled out a bic lighter and lit up.

Ten minutes later they stood at the door to Shadoe's 'closet'.

Shadoe grinned as she paused to open the door, “Well, hold on to your panties girl, for here they be dragons!”

Trace smiled, “I can't, I don't have any on!”

Shadoe giggled, “Yeah well we can fix that in here too!”

Shadoe opened the door to reveal a rather large bedroom that was stocked with numerous portable clothing racks as well as three dressers and two portable wardrobes.

Despite Shadoe's reputation for wearing all black all the time, there was a virtual rainbow of colour all around.

“Oh my god!” Tracey whistled, “I haven't seen stores with this amount of stock!”

“And all our size!” Shadoe beamed proudly, “well minus the boob size and even that isn't a major issue really. So anyway, we need to give you a whole new look and I do believe we have most of the gear to do it here too!”

“I don't know, this pixie haircut might be an issue,” Tracey sighed, “unless you have a wig or two somewhere in all this.”

“Well no, I don't have any wigs, but I have a lot of hair stuff, including extensions!” Shadoe told her.

“Well I don't suppose you have them in my hair colour?” Tracey flicked her hair for emphasis.

“Of course not!” Shadoe replied, “but you could use a hair colour change anyways, and I happen to have some black hair dye in the bathroom!”

Tracey pondered the idea for a moment.

She needed to hide. The dark suits would be looking for a punk girl with short brown hair in pink and black so she couldn't look like that and a hair colour change could only help her out.

Besides which she wasn't a big fan of short hair. As Damien, she always thought Trace was cute with her look but now that she literally wore her shoes, she really didn't want it short.

“Well, it's definitely a good idea,” Tracey admitted as both girls casually started looking through the multiple racks of clothes.

“Hell, everyone has been doing the hair colour thing anyways, I'm kind of surprised you haven't, being a punker and all.”

“Well not all punks go for the coloured hair look,” Tracey replied then added, “besides which, I'm not really a punk, not really; I'm much more of a rocker. The punk look just got thrust upon me.”

“There's nothing quite like telling the absolute truth without directly saying anything,” Tracey thought.

“Okay so we start with the hair, then we can come back here and create your new look, okay?”

Tracey had to admit she did feel a little excited at the idea of a complete makeover, although didn't she just get something like that when she was forced into Tracey's body in the first place?

“Hell yeah, let's do this!” Tracey exclaimed, “you've always had the best fashion sense ever since I met you!”

“Oh well honey,” Shadoe replied with a cautious tone, “That really hasn't been that long now. I mean I first met you with Damien just about 6 months ago. I admit that at first glance I thought you might have been his girlfriend.”

“Damien's girlfriend?” Tracey half-gasped, “Oh no, trust me, that could never happen. Damien was just a friend. Someone I met when I came downtown.”

“Well, don't worry about it,” Shadoe smiled, “I'll admit I thought about him a few times that way but never thought we could work out around what I do and his music. He always seems to have his head buried in music.”

“Oh well, I suppose that is really all he has,” Tracey responded, “I mean he always seems so lonely out there. Sometimes he's there for hours and hours barely making a thing but he keeps plodding onward. He was part of a band project although after today, I don't think that will ever come of anything.”

“Yeah, he really didn't seem at all interested in music or even English that last time I saw him, handcuffed and shoved into a van,” Shadoe recalled.

Tracey felt a chill go up her spine. She suspected that she may well never see the face of Damien ever again. She knew that she should have been feeling bad about that, even angry but she just felt a little sadness.

Shadoe led her into the kitchen where she already had a chair set up and all the hair colour materials ready at hand.

Tracey looked at the layout and raised an eyebrow, “I see you are all ready for this?”

Shadoe smiled, “Yeah, I knew all along you'd go for it. This is going to be so much fun. It's like having a full sized fashion doll at my disposal.”

Tracey looked down at herself and sighed, “It's too bad about the boobs though.”

“Oh hell girl, you are still young!” Shadoe replied, “they'll get bigger in time, I know a lot of girls from high school that were still B cups in grade nine, a few short years later they graduated with D cups! Your time will come, don't worry about it.”

Tracey had a small battle of feelings with those thoughts. The part of her that was still Damien wanted to return to what he had always known, but the new, emerging part desperately wanted those bigger boobs.

She shook her head.

“What?” Shadoe asked as she motioned Tracey to the chair.

“Oh,” Tracey smiled weakly, “just trying to picture me with a rack like yours. Kind of hard to picture at this point.”

“Oh trust me, I've only had these puppies since I was twelve and I'm twenty-two now. I've only been a D cup since I was about your age, so I'm still not entirely used to them,” Shadoe smiled, “so anyways let's get this started.”

Shadoe mixed the dye together and Tracey put the protective cape on her shoulders.

“So exactly why is it you have black hair dye anyways?” Tracey asked, “Your hair doesn't look like it's ever been dyed.”

Shadoe laughed, “Oh no, it's not for me. Hell no, my hair is all natural! I got this for a friend that was going to go underground about a month ago but she ended up leaving town instead. That left me with black hair dye on my shelf. It's just lucky you came along and needed it. Otherwise I'd eventually have to toss it out.”

An hour and a half later Tracey's hair had been rinsed and dried and Shadoe went to work on attaching the extensions.

“You are totally not going to recognize yourself when we are done,” Shadoe said proudly, “and trust me, longer hair really does suit you and this colour is a knock out!”

“How much do you want for the extensions?” Tracey asked, “I'm not sure when or how but I promise I'll pay you back for all this help. You've been like a big sister to me.”

“Ah, don't worry about it kid,” Shadoe laughed, “You broke up an otherwise boring evening. I needed a break besides, helping you out in your time of need is a good way to seed my karma.”

“Seed your karma?” Tracey asked.

“Yeah, you know, whatever comes around, goes around?” she explained, “By doing people favours like this, I seed my karma for good to come back to me.”

“Wow, I've never thought of it like that!” Tracey replied, “I can't wait to see the end results.”

“Well I'm almost done your hair, but,” Shadoe paused, “We need to do your makeup to complete the look, Then we can grab you some clothes and I have a few ideas about that too. In fact I pulled a few outfits out for you while you were rinsing off the dye. They're on my bed.”

“Wow, hair, makeup and clothes,” Tracey said aloud, “are you sure you can afford all this?”

Shadoe responded by waving a hand, “Pfft! Don't worry your pretty little head about it girl. I can always get more. Clothes, I have no shortage of. The hair extensions, I actually get from a friend of mine who hand makes them for dirt cheap. And makeup? Please. I get that free all that time! Remember, sugar daddies?”

Tracey nodded, in which Shadoe slapped her head lightly, “hold still bitch, you don't want me to fuck this up!”

Then came the makeup.

Shadoe had an astounding amount of makeup. The case she brought out reminded Tracey of an old mechanics' toolbox that Damien used to have years ago.

There were numerous shades of everything from foundations, eye shadows, blushes and lipsticks galore.

Shadoe held up numerous shades of foundation to Tracey's face, finally finding one she could use.

“Do me a favour and tell me what you are doing and why as you do it?” Tracey asked.

“Are you serious?” Shadoe asked.

Tracey thought quickly, “Hey, I only ever learned one way and never used foundation or eyeshadow. In fact all I've ever used as mascara and eyeliner.”

“Oh well okay then, that makes sense,” Shadoe replied, “that would explain the one look you've had since I met you.”

Shadoe took her time, all the time explaining what she was doing to Tracey.

Forty minutes later Shadoe brought out a small pile of clothes. The top was a classy dark crimson coloured off the shoulder model. The panties were black and high hip cut.

For covering the lower half a pencil skirt that hugged Tracey's curves quite well was the answer. Between the panties and the skirt were a pair of textured black tights. The boots were not unlike Tracey's own boots but were in better condition and had a few metallic rings to highlight the design.

Shadoe led Tracey into her bedroom and faced her towards the closet door.

“Okay now, are you ready for this?” Shadoe enticed Tracey.

She then opened the closet doors that displayed a double wide full length mirror.

(To be continued)