Suzanne's cousin Clare: 2

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Clare

Suzanne completes the task she began
and I am surprised and quite pleased with the results

Suzanne’s cousin Clare:
and how she changed my life

by Louise Anne Smithson


Chapter 2

Finishing the job

After we’d finished eating our lunch and I’d cleared the dishes, Suzanne invited me to touch up my lipstick and to check whether my nose required further face powder, using her dressing table mirror. Once I’d made the necessary repairs I was instructed to come to her spare bedroom where she’d laid out a matching set of dark blue lingerie and a brand new pack of stockings for me. There was also a pair of pink furry slippers on the floor by the bed.

‘Here, you can be putting on these underclothes whilst I go and find you a suitable dress and some jewelry to wear. You can fill the bra cups with these,’ she said, pointing to a pair of old stockings which she’d part-filled with rice, and knotted, which were on top of the dressing table.

‘They’re the right weight and consistency for real breasts, and the knots will create the outline of a nipple inside the bra. We’ll have to make sure that the dress you wear doesn’t have a very low neckline. It’s lucky that we seem to take the same size in clothes.

‘Alright,’ I said, beginning to warm to the prospect of wearing something really nice for once.

‘Don’t put on the stockings for the time being as we’ll need to de-fuzz your legs first,’ she continued.

‘Aren’t you bothered about me wearing your clothes?’

‘No, not at all, I’ve lots of clothes which I’ll never have opportunity to wear again now that my condition has worsened. I’m just pleased to see them being used once again.’

‘Alright then, if you’re sure that you don’t mind,’


I followed her instructions regarding the lingerie and suddenly found that I’d acquired the shape of a young woman. A few minutes later Suzanne struggled into the room on her crutches carrying a long grey silk dress over her arm, which she lay down on to the bed. I was wearing the filled bra and the knickers, but was still working out how to put on the suspender belt.

‘You’ll have to give me a hand with this Suzanne, I’m afraid I’m not very knowledgeable about women’s underclothing’ I admitted, blushing.

She laughed.

‘I didn’t think women wore suspenders and stockings nowadays,’ I continued. ‘My mother never wore anything remotely like this.’

‘Oh dear, what a sheltered life you’ve lived Tom!’ she said laughing. ‘But you are right, tights have replaced suspenders for everyday wear, although we want you to look really glamorous on this first occasion.’

I wasn’t sure about the significance of the word ‘first’ but I didn’t argue the point with her. She showed me how to put on the belt and then tuck the four suspenders inside my knickers before helping me to put on and straighten a short petticoat.

‘Your legs have a nice shape and aren’t particularly hairy for a young man’, she commented, running her hands up them, ‘but we’ll have to de-fuzz them together with your armpits, just to be on the safe side.’

‘Is that really necessary?’ I asked.

‘Oh yes, you’ve come this far in your quest and we’re not going to spoil the effect with hairy legs. In any event, having smooth arms and legs will make you feel more confident.’

Quest? What quest?

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, realising that nobody would know other than Suzanne and myself. If I were absolutely honest, I might even admit to enjoying myself, at least it was preferable to sitting in my bedsit, surfing the internet. I therefore let her show me how to use a hair removal cream.

‘It feels wrong to be calling you Tom now that you look the way you do, if you don’t object I’m going to start calling you Clare and referring to you as she whilst you’re dressed as you are.’

‘Alright, as long as you call me Tom again as soon as I’ve changed back. But why Clare?’ I asked.

‘You remind me of someone with that name, that I used to know.’


By now the hair removal cream was covering my legs, arms and armpits.

‘I want you to stand and wait for ten minutes whilst it does its job, and in the meanwhile I’ll find you some more clothes to wear.’

Whilst I was waiting, Suzanne sorted out a pair of high heeled shoes which she also brought through to the spare bedroom. At last she decided that my legs and arms were ready and showed me how to remove the bulk of the cream with a spatula and then wash off any remaining traces.


‘See Clare, your arms and legs now look and feel lovely and smooth and there’s no trace of any soreness.’

‘I just hope that nobody notices,’ I replied.

‘But Clare we want people to notice, that is the whole idea of your wearing stockings,’ she joked.

I blushed.

‘I meant at work, next week.’

‘I doubt if anyone will notice your legs if you’re wearing trousers, and, in any event, what difference would it make if they did?’

‘One of my colleagues, Debbie, is quite nosey and she’d be bound to ask me why I’d shaved my legs.’

‘In that case you should tell her that it helps you to improve your swimming.’

That sounded pretty lame reason to me; I’d just have to hope that she didn’t notice.


We then sat down together and Suzanne explained to me how to put on a new pair of stockings without laddering them. There seemed to be so much to learn.

‘Gather together the leg potion in both hands, slip your foot into the toe, then gently draw the stocking over your leg. When taking them off, do the same thing but in reverse. It cuts down the snagging hazard to a considerable extent. Once they are on straight you should attach them to the suspenders.’

I followed her instructions, and then put on the slippers.

‘So how do the stockings feel on your legs?’

‘I must admit they do feel very nice and silky,’ I said as I ran my hands along my legs.

‘Yes, of course they do’, said Suzanne. ‘Now come back to my bedroom and we’ll see if we can do something with your finger nails.’


I held out both my hands for Suzanne to inspect.

‘Your fingers aren’t bad, given that you used to be a guy, but you’re going to need some acrylic extensions before we put on the polish.’

‘Are you sure that they’ll come off?’

‘Yes, don’t worry, there’s a special acetone solution which is used to soak them off. It takes about twenty minutes’

‘Alright as long as you know what you are doing.’


The next quarter of an hour was spent by Suzanne in cleaning, shaping and buffing my nails, pushing back the cuticles and removing dead skin.

‘This all seems to be rather a rigmarole, given that it’s only for one day,’ I commented.

‘Maybe so Clare, but for once I’m really enjoying myself so please humour me, and I promise that you they’ll look absolutely beautiful when I’m finished,’ she replied with feeling.

I didn’t have the heart to object further, and, in any event, I was now quite looking forward to seeing the finished job.


Suzanne found a set of nail forms in her drawer which she shaped, trimmed and filed to fit over about a third of each of my existing nails. As each one was finished she painted on a primer to the nail surface. Whilst we were waiting for my left hand to dry, she started on the right. As soon as each nail was dry she put some adhesive on the underside of a new tip and gently attached it to about one third of my natural nail, rocking it into place and then holding it for a few seconds, also pressing gently at sides to ensure maximum bonding. Once each extension was secure, she shortened and shaped the tips and sides and blended the overlap as far as possible in to the natural nail surface with an emery board.

‘These extensions should now be as strong as your natural nails’ she said, brushing away the dust. ‘We now apply a coat of resin to your nails and the tips, followed by a puff on to them with a coat of polymer powder, and another coat of resin. Finally I’ll use a spray activator which causes a chemical reaction to harden the surface and disguise any sign of the join.’

‘As long as it all comes off without leaving any trace behind.’

‘Don’t worry, Clare, you’ll be fine.’


She carried out each of these actions on each nail in turn. I said nothing but just watched in amazement as I gradually acquired a set of long, smooth and shapely finger nails.

‘Now for some nail varnish,’ continued Suzanne in a matter of fact way. ‘I always use a base coat first. It evens out the nail and prepares it for the coloured lacquer. We’ll have to wait until this is completely dry (not tacky) and then paint your nails with one straight line going from the base to the tip on either side and then another down the middle. Re-dip the brush if you find it dragging along the nail.’

She used a nail varnish that matched my lipstick.

‘I’m afraid you’ll now have to sit and do nothing for a while, waiting for them to dry fully. In the meanwhile would you mind if I pierce your ears as I don’t have any suitable clip-on earrings.’

‘Is that really necessary?’ I felt duty bound to ask, although I knew what her answer would be, before doing so.

‘Yes, I’m afraid so, Clare,’ answered Suzanne. ‘It’s one more visible detail that’ll make you look a little more convincing.’

‘But won’t that leave a mark?’ I said.

‘Yes, but only for a little while, until the holes close up again. In any event lots of young men wear studs in their ears these days.’

I sighed, not wishing to spoil her fun.

‘Alright then, I’ve let you come this far, and so I suppose you had better finish the job,’ I said.

‘Exactly, you’re beginning to get the right idea,’ she said, giving me a nice smile.


Ten minutes later Suzanne had wiped my ears with antiseptic, then frozen them with ice cubes before piercing them with a sterilised needle and inserted two dangling earrings.

‘Now that wasn’t too painful was it? I’ve sprayed the holes with brine which acts as an antiseptic. If you want to keep them, I can give you some studs to wear after you’ve taken them out.

‘I just hope you know what you’re doing,’ I said.

‘Of course I do, I’ve pierced hundreds of ears in my time. As I told you, I used to be a beauty consultant,’ she answered, as she attached a matching pendant to my neck.

‘Can I see what I look like now?’

'Wait a minute, I’ll just spray on a little perfume for you and then we'll need to check how are your nails are doing.’

I spread out both my hands to display immaculately lacquered nails.

‘I think they’re probably dry by now.’

‘Alright then, I’ll help you to put on the dress but be careful not to touch anything as the varnish probably still needs a little more time to harden and it will be a pain if we have to do them again!

Leaning against the dressing table, Suzanne helped me to step into her long grey dress and zipped it up at the back for me. She then put on a simple gold bracelet on to each of my wrists.

‘Now slip on your shoes and we can go and look in the full length mirror in my room.’

Suzanne gestured to a pair of high-heeled sling backs, and helped me to put them on so that I wouldn’t spoil my nails.


I was a little unsteady wearing high heels at first but after a few steps I managed to retain my balance.

‘Well Missy, so how do you feel now that you’re really beginning to look like a girl?’ asked Suzanne as we stood looking at my reflection.

I took a minute or two before answering.

‘I’m not sure what to say. It feels a little strange to be wearing these clothes and makeup. The high heels are also a little bit tiring for my feet, but I quite like the feeling of the long hair and having these lovely long finger nails. However, the main thing is that I can’t get used to how I look.’

‘Yes, you do look lovely, even for a girl. I’m very pleased with my efforts today,’ said Suzanne. ‘How about your arms and legs, are they at all sore?’

‘No, in fact it’s quite a pleasant sensation to have them smooth, and to be wearing stockings.’

‘What about your earlobes?’

‘They’re a little sore, but it’s also a nice sensation to feel the earrings move when I move my head,’ I said, smiling.

Suzanne smiled as well.

‘It sounds as if you’re beginning to think like a woman, as well as look like one,’ she commented

I blushed a little then smiled.

‘Thank you Suzanne, I must admit I’ve had a novel but quite enjoyable experience today.’

‘Good, I hoped that you would think that way. Now it’s time for us to take some photos with my digital camera?’

‘Alright, you may do so but you must promise not to show them to anyone without my permission.’

‘I promise, but I suspect you may be quite proud of the results.’


Suzanne took several shots of me alone in various poses and then using the self-timer she also took a number of the two of us together. I also took a couple of Suzanne.

‘I think we are both naturally photogenic,’ commented Suzanne as we later inspected the results on her computer, but you’re the true beauty.’

I blushed and said nothing.


It was now nearly five o’clock in the afternoon. My transformation had taken nearly five hours.

‘You know, there’s no reason why you have to change back straight away Clare. How would you like to stay here for dinner tonight? I have plenty of ready meals in the freezer and I would love to have your company.’

‘Alright then as long as you promise to help me get changed back before I do leave tonight.’

‘The only thing is that we’re going to need a bottle of wine and something for a dessert, I don’t suppose you would mind going across the road to the convenience store for me?’ she asked.

‘I can’t go out to the shops dressed like this,’ I said.

‘Well, with all that makeup and those finger nails, you can hardly go out in your own clothes without anyone noticing’, she replied. ‘But I suppose you do look a little too glamorous to go to the local store. What if you were to change into a more conservative dress and some sensible shoes, and put on my winter coat you’ll look like any other smartly dressed young woman.’

‘But I’ll give myself away as soon as I open my mouth,’ I replied.

‘Clare, or perhaps on this occasion I’ll say Tom, have you ever heard a recording of your voice recently? It’s quite high pitched for a young man and could easily pass for a woman’s voice.’

‘No one has ever commented on that before.’

‘That’s because people hear what they expect to hear. They see a young man standing in front of them and accept that the voice is a man’s, but if an attractive young woman were to be standing there then they would accept the same voice as being a woman’s. There have been a couple of occasions when you’ve spoken to me on the phone, that I started by mistaking you for a woman.’

I blushed, realising that my friend was probably speaking the truth and there had been one or two embarrassing incidents in the past where other people had assumed I was a woman over the phone.

‘In any event you probably won’t even have to say anything, just take the purchases to the counter and pay in cash.’

I hesitated for a moment before answering.

‘Alright then, if you’ll find me something more suitable to change into.’


Ten minutes later I’d changed into a shorter dark red dress and some more comfortable medium-heeled shoes.

‘You can wear these clothes this evening, if you want.’

‘Alright then, I should hate to drop food on your lovely long dress, but wouldn’t it be safer for me to wear flat heels to go out?’ I asked.

‘No, we don’t want you walking like a man do we?’ answered Suzanne. ‘You’ll need to be conscious of how you walk as this could give you away just as much as your mannerisms or your voice. Remember to take small steps rather than strides, and that you’re no longer a guy.’

‘I can’t easily forget that with all this makeup on, but I’ll do my best,’ I replied.

‘Here, take my purse, and you’ll find my winter coat is hanging by the front door’, said Suzanne.

‘No that’s alright I can pay,’ I said.

‘No Clare, you’ve been such a good sport today that I want it to be my treat. In any event, I also want you to buy me a new toothbrush whilst you’re there.’

‘Alright then, any particular make or colour?’

‘I’ll have a pink one, if they have one, but otherwise it doesn’t really matter.’


Half an hour later I’d returned with the purchases, feeling quite pleased with myself.

‘Did you’ve any difficulties?’ asked Suzanne, as I came in again.

‘No, none at all; I don’t think anyone recognised me as a man.’

‘Of course not; I told you so.’

‘People seem to be friendlier to young women than they are to young men. The shopkeeper called me ‘love’, and one guy held open the door for me.’

‘So what did you do?’ she asked.

‘I just smiled sweetly at him, and he blushed,’ I answered laughing.

‘So you appear to have enjoyed your first trip out as Clare?’

‘Yes, I suppose I did,’ I admitted, blushing a little as I did so.


After taking off Suzanne’s coat and stowing the shopping I offered to help finish preparing our meal as the exertions of the day appeared to have tired her out. By 6.30pm I’d laid the table and we were about to share a class of wine.

‘So, have you enjoyed yourself today young Clare?’

‘Yes, I suppose I have, once I got used to the idea,’ I replied.

‘I thought so. In that case let us have a toast - to Clare,’ said Suzanne, raising her glass.

‘To Clare and Suzanne,’ I corrected.

‘Alright then - to Clare, Suzanne and their continued friendship.’

Next time: Suzanne asks me for a favour, but I'm not sure that I’ll be capable of granting it.

I'll try and post a new chapter weekly from now on. Louise

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Comments

Hey

I got here first again!

I find I enjoy your stories.

Your synopsis included her multiple sclorosis, but didn't see it in the story, so i was confused a lot in the first chapter.

I asked it before, but how did she know about Tom? If you declared his sexual preference I missed it.

What does his sexual

What does his sexual preference have to do with this? Tom/clare could still like girls and be a girl herself...

Hi, OddPOV Thanks for the

Hi, OddPOV
Thanks for the comments.
I don't think I have said she had multiple sclorosis, unless I'm going a little soft in the head. She suffers from muscular dystrophy. As to how and what she knew about Tom, I would just ask you to be patient until the story unfolds.
Louise

Muscular Dystrophy

Louise,

The severe symptoms you describe exhibited by Suzanne appear to be Duchenne muscular dystrophy. That malady only affects genetic males, as it is sex linked, like hemophilia. Symptoms appear early in life and death by age 25 is, unfortunately, the norm.

Becker muscular dystrophy very, very, rarely occurs in genetic females and is uncommon among males. It too is genetic, with symptoms appearing at about age 12 and progressing much more slowly than the more prevelant Duchenne form.

Very nasty business.

G/R

Muscular dystrophy

Hi G/R
I have no medical training, but I did read up on muscular dystrophy in Wikipedia before writing the story. Suzanne is a genetic female so I had in mind one of the other forms rather than the Duchenne variety, which I understood could affect females in their early twenties, although I wasn't aware that this was quite as rare as your message implies. In any event I was intending to spell-out Suzanne's rather grim prognosis in a later chapter.
Regards, Louise

Diagnosis of Duchenne MD (DMD)

Not to argue since your charming story is ostensibly a work of fiction, your heroine could have a rare genetic disorder and be afflicted with DMD. Google 'Muscular Dystrophy in females' There is a journal reference for 1980 discussing such genetic oddities. I think the story is credible, but would also expect rapidly declining vigor and serious bouts of illness.

jmacaulay

Thank you,Louise,

ALISON

Another good story and thank you Sarah,gender and sexuality are two very different things
as any true transsexual girl will attest to,OK!

ALISON

Suzanne's cousin Clare: 2

Who is Suzanne and who is Clare in the pic?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

What a wonderful series

What a lovely series - I'm enjoying it so much.

The gradual build up throughout the day is wonderful - it's all too easy to rush these things - and Tom's understated apprehension is just right.

Thank you.

Charlotte

Quite a good lesson - Louise

In make up and nails, I think I'll copy it for my make up tips.

Great story, thank you louise.

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

I'm in!

I find that the stories I enjoy the most are the ones where I can put myself into one of the characters. I am sooo Clare!
.
.
Capture_0.jpg
The girl in me. She's always there... but right now she's
busy paging through the phone book looking up Suzanne.

Wonderful story L A

We must understand this is a story, and the progression of the MD follows the story plot, not real life.
I'm glad I don't have to wait for each chapter.
Clare has had her first sojourn in public, what's next ?

Cefin