Ready? Okay!

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Ready? Okay!
by Jennifer Brock

Craig was a humble accountant who mainly kept to himself, until the office Halloween party gave him something to cheer about. Will this journey of self-discovery lead Cathi down the road to love?

Prologue

Estelle Bailey loved being the boss. As manager of the regional office of Caldwell Pharmaceuticals, she had staff of twenty-three minions at her beck and call. She also loved her new figure — when her prick of her husband ran off with the secretary he’d gotten pregnant, she channeled her rage into self-improvement. Granted, some of her changes had been surgical, but whenever she looked in the mirror and saw the knockout blonde with the tight body that would have been hot for thirty-two, let alone the forty-two she’d never admit, she felt a great sense of accomplishment. If Dwayne could see what he was missing, he’d be begging her to let him come back, and she’d be laughing in his face.

She enjoyed dressing a little more provocatively than the women who worked under her, and flirted casually with most of the men, confident in the knowledge that most of them were turned on by imagining her naked. But Corporate had recently issued some very strong memos about sexual harassment, so she had to cut back on overtly showing herself off. However, holiday parties were still allowed, and that gave Estelle a plan on how she could strut her stuff without fear of being fired.

She called everybody into the conference room for a meeting after lunch on Friday, September 28: She was the last to arrive, and entered carrying a stack of papers and a plastic pumpkin, the sort that children use for trick-or-treating. She took the top two pages off the pile, and handed the rest off to her administrative assistant Sue to be passed around. Estelle told Sue to take one and pass the rest around. She wished she’d been able to hire some cute young male secretary, but she knew that when a customer calls in and gets a male voice on the line, they don’t like to be transferred to a female voice; it makes them feel like they’ve been passed down. But Sue was competent, and looked older than she really was, so it just made her look that much better in comparison.

Estelle explained her reason for gathering everyone. “Our office had a very good third quarter, better than the other divisions, so corporate has approved letting me give everyone a bonus.” At this news, the room cheered! “And I thought that it would be fun if we threw a party to celebrate.” There were more cheers! “Since it’s the next big holiday coming up, a Halloween party makes the most sense.” The cheering faded a little. “Because great teamwork got us those profits, I decided that everyone should wear a costume based on the theme ‘Uniforms.’ I’ve got a list of possible uniforms here, and I’ll be passing them out.” The cheering stopped. “So if you wear your assigned costume, and go to the Sweeping Pines Tavern on Saturday, October 27 from 7:30 pm through til question mark, I’ll be handing out the bonus checks. The directions are on the sheets you’ve just been handed. Please let Sue know your meal selections before Friday the 12th. And there will be extra cash prizes for the best interpretation of the ‘uniform’ concept, most authentic costume, best presentation, most original costume, and a random door prize. If you want to poop the party, you’ll still get your bonus check on the following Monday, but you’ll be out of the running for the extra prizes.” The attitude of the crowd was blank. “Did I mention the party would have an open bar?” The cheers came back. “And now without further ado, here are your costume assignments. You can bring a date to the party, but they will need to match your theme.”

So that it wouldn’t look like she was cheating, she showed her sheet of heavier orange cardstock paper with costume names on it to the room, then creased it in quarters vertically and in sixths horizontally, then tore it along the creases into twenty-four pieces, and folded each piece in half before dropping it in her plastic pumpkin. Then she went around the room and for each person, she reached her hand into the pumpkin, swished it around a little, and handed the lucky person their appointed costume. Now there were some costumes in the bucket that she knew could become very sexy on her, but she didn’t want to give them out to any of the other women. So she used a little trick. The special sexy costumes were the eight in the middle of the paper, so they had torn edges all the way around. The boring plain ones were all on the outside, so there was at least one perfectly straight edge. All Estelle had to do was feel the edges and know whether a costume was safe to hand to a given employee.

Her plan worked brilliantly. The younger, attractive women all got stuck with hideous uniforms. Teresa the cute Latina customer service rep had to be an astronaut, so she’d be in a shapeless jumpsuit. Lynne the statuesque redhead who served as admin for the sales department, would be in the ugly uniform of a marching band member, looking like a high school geek. Beth the petite brunette admin would have to be a police officer. And best of all, Dina the perky blonde receptionist got stuck as a “Football player.” Her figure would be obscured with bulky pads, and her sweet face would be hidden under a helmet.

Estelle’s secret extra sexy costume ideas were concealed among the men. Joe the head of sales got assigned the flight attendant uniform. She would have been a foxy stewardess from the sixties if she’d gotten that one, but he’d be stuck in a suit not too much unlike his usual work clothes. Jim the hot young stud working as a sales intern would have to play “housekeeper.” Her plan for that one was going to be a French maid, but Jim would probably end up hidden under a janitor’s coverall. Instead of Estelle dressing up as a naughty nurse, the fortyish African-American salesman Steve would probably just show up in scrubs. The supersized customer service rep Fred was handed “waiter/waitress,” which was really too bad. She was going to spin that one as a Playboy bunny. The boring but efficient Craig from accounting got to be a cheerleader and bald, wrinkled Al from the shipping department would be dressed up as a superhero, so no miniskirt and go-go boots for Estelle. And no sexy Catholic schoolgirl uniform for her either, as Ken the nerdy intern ended up with “private school student.” But the one Estelle did pull wasn’t too bad. She’d be dressing as a “lifeguard,” which means she’d get to show off her body in front of them wearing nothing but swimwear.

Chapter 1: Craig’s Plan

So that’s how it ended up that Craig Brooks, the office’s accountant, ended up getting a card that said “Cheerleader.” Now Craig had three main flaws in his personality, which were part of what made him such a good accountant. He was a perfectionist; he’d never do something unless he did it completely and correctly. And he was also persistent; once he started on a path it was hard to knock him off of it. And finally, he was socially awkward; although a part of him wanted to be friendly with the people around him he just didn’t know how to talk to them and usually kept to himself working quietly. So in the big meeting when his card was read and Steve from sales said “Oooh Baby! I can’t wait to see you shake your pompoms,” it put an image in his head of what a cheerleader was, and that image was a cute girl in a short skirt.

If he had been a little more sociable, he could have talked to some friends who would have noticed that Estelle only handed out costumes that could have worked for either a man or a woman, or reminded him that Will Ferrell used to play a male cheerleader on SNL, or even that George W. Bush was a cheerleader in college. But Craig really didn’t think of any of that, he thought he was going to have to find a way to become a girl cheerleader in time for the party.

So when he got home, he hopped onto the internet and started searching. First he went looking for “cheerleader uniforms” and found a place where he could order all of the pieces, once he figured out his sizes. He went and got the tape measure from his sewing kit and started getting his measurements, but then realized he’d need something to serve as breasts. He had to back up the plan a little. First he needed to make himself look like a girl, and then he needed to make that girl into a cheerleader. So he went looking for “crossdressing tips” and got down to a message board where he could get ideas on how a first-timer could dress as a woman for Halloween. When he said expense didn’t matter, (he figured that he could call it all a work-related expense and write it off) he was told he ought to get a decent set of breast forms, a “gaff” to hide his male genitals, a panty with bun and hip pads, and a cincher to reduce his waist, and sent a link for a site where to get them. One of the nice people even told him how to measure his chest for a bra, so he could pick the right size of breast forms. He decided he wanted to be a 38C, and placed an order. They also gave him links to where he could get videos that could teach him how to talk, walk, and to generally act like a woman.

Now that he knew the right size, he then went back and ordered a cheerleader uniform. He went with a shell top and pleated skirt in black and gold, the colors of the company logo, mostly black with yellow stripes. Also he got a gold cheer brief that was designed to be shown if he did any high kicks or jumps, and got a pair of shiny black and gold pompoms so he could shake them at Steve. For good measure, he also got a team jacket that he could wear over his uniform, embroidered with a big Caldwell where the school name would be on the back and a “CJB” monogram in cursive letters on the front. He also ordered white cheering shoes, after finding a conversion chart for male to female sizes, and white cheering socks with yellow stripes. They also sold sports bras, so he threw one onto his order. Then he went searching for a DVD that could teach him beginning cheering techniques, so he could try for the award for “best presentation.”

The experts also told him that if his hair wasn’t long enough, he should get the best wig he could afford. But when he said he might be moving around vigorously as a cheerleader and a wig could fall off, they said he might want to consider hair extensions instead, which can be a little more secure. They advised him in either case to find a beauty salon that could give him a full treatment. So the next day he pulled out the yellow pages and scanned for a place that advertised waxing and hair extensions, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by going to a place that looked too big, so he called a few places that had fairly small ad boxes in the phone book. The first one he called laughed at the idea. The second one called him a pervert. But then he called “Scissors of Mercy.” The girl on the other end of the line said that they’d done that sort of thing before, and if he came around at noon she could check him out and see if there was any potential. So he got the nerve up to go there and try, and expected to be mortified. But it turned out not to be like what he expected a beauty parlor to look like. It had mirrors and chairs like he’d expected, but the rest was a bit unusual. It was painted mostly black, but lit with neon tubes in interesting patterns on the ceiling. Some music he was unfamiliar with was pouring out of a speaker somewhere, and the receptionist by the door was a blonde in her twenties with a couple dozen piercings on her face and a tribal tattoo circling her right forearm. She wore a pink dress with a little white apron that looked like diner waitress uniform (with a nametag that said “Madge”) and a pair of canvas high-top sneakers over black fishnet stockings. He said his name was Craig and he’d called earlier, and she told him to have a seat. The chairs in the waiting area looked as though they had once been attached to high school desks.

He wasn’t waiting long. Shortly Madge returned with a taller girl. She had very short pink hair, with a pattern of purple leopard spots in it. Her ears had at least six sets of holes in them, with connected little rings. She wore a lacy, silky, strappy black top that looked as far as Craig could tell like a bra, and an ultra-short pink mini-skirt that slung low across her hips. There was a stylized art deco black cat sitting in a martini glass tattooed on her left shoulder, and a set of tiny paw prints led a trail from just below her jeweled navel along a winding course that disappeared below her waistband. She held out a hand with long purple fingernails. “Hi, I’m Kitty. We spoke on the phone. Now, I can tell you’re looking around and thinking you’ve come to the wrong place. But as I get a good look at you here, I can see you’ve got decent bones. We could give your inner girl the chance to come out and play, and I could make her look really pretty.”

Craig tried to protest. “I was challenged to look like a cheerleader, and my idea isn’t to go for some punk/goth wild look, but rather more traditional. I think I’d better try somewhere else.”

“Hang on! Just because I don’t choose the Wendy Whitebread look for myself, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to create it. If you want to look like the Homecoming Queen, we can do it. I’ll make a deal with you. Give me 20 minutes of your time in my chair for a free makeover right now, and if I don’t give you what you’re looking for, you can find someone else. But if I totally nail what you’re after, you agree to let me give you the full treatment. I promise that what I do now will come off and leave you exactly the way you are now — no permanent or lasting changes. I’ve heard of guys who wanted to do this before, but I’ve never had the chance to do it to one myself. So please give me a chance.”

Since it was free, Craig figured he didn’t have anything to lose but his dignity, and that was pretty much gone anyway, since Kitty had been talking loud enough for the whole room to hear. She led him to an ancient adjustable chair that may have come from an evil dentist’s office, and threw a cape around his shoulders, and put a tight little cap on his head that was like the toe of a giant stocking and poked his hair up under it all around. Then she placed him completely at her mercy by taking his glasses off and setting them on a counter. She rolled over a cart of something and told him not to worry; it wouldn’t hurt a bit. He couldn’t really see what was happening, but he felt some wet sponges on his face, and some powdering, and she made him pucker his lips while she brushed on lipstick with a little paintbrush-like thing, and then she told him to close his eyes, and something touched his lids and brushed his lashes and there was some poking and when she told him to open his eyes they felt heavier, and then there was some more powdering, and she did something to his eyebrows saying, “When we do this for real, I’ll tweeze your brows down to beauty, but for now, I’ll be masking them out and drawing in new ones.” Then he was told to close his eyes and lean forward, and she put something on his head. He felt something brushing his neck and figured it was a wig. “Ok. Open your eyes.” He looked up and saw a hand mirror in front of his face with a blurry girl looking at him. “Ahh, I get it. You can’t see without your glasses. I have a solution. Look at me and smile, like your team just won the big game.” He laughed and turned toward her and there was a flash, and he heard a motor. “Ok, now bat your eyes and open your mouth halfway in a little pout, like I’m the quarterback and you’re going to give it up in the backseat of my dad’s car.” He laughed again and tried to make a sexy face, and there was another flash. “And finally, roll your eyes and purse your lips into a lemon-sucking bitch face, like you just found out the co-captain of your squad already did the quarterback.” That was the silliest expression yet, and she took another photo. Then she perched his glasses on his face down near the end of his nose, and he got a better look in the mirror. He saw a cute bookish girl with huge eyes and a tiny nose, and a slight pink flush to her cheeks. She had light brown hair in wispy bangs on her forehead and waves down to her shoulders. He smiled at her and she smiled back, fluttering her eyelashes. Kitty showed him the Polaroids, and the girl in the pictures looked even cuter without his glasses messing up her look. “So, what do you think? Is that the look you wanted? I think for the real deal we’ll want to go blonde — when I think cheerleader, I think blonde — but that was the only wig I had handy. It’s actually mine; I wear it when I go visit the grandmother I still respect. We may be able to use your real hair and some extensions when the time comes,” and she stopped either for a breath or to let him answer.

He said “Wow,” and felt himself becoming slightly aroused by the kissable lips in the mirror. “I think you nailed it. You’re hired. Let me make an appointment, and you can tell me how much it’s going to cost.” Kitty took his glasses off, pointing out that he really ought to get contacts before the party if he wanted to make it work, ideally if he could get ones that made his eyes blue it would fit the all-American blonde cheerleader image better. Then she took another picture that she said was for her own use, and wouldn’t be shown to anyone, and she took his wig off and started cleansing his face with a variety of lotions, sponges, and wipes.

She then got out a memo pad and started writing something down. “I figure there’s no better time to start this project than tonight. Go out and get everything on this list, then go home and take a shower so you’re clean and dry everywhere then come back here with everything at 9, after we’ve closed to the public, and you can get your first waxing. That will cost $400, but we can take a credit card.” He agreed and left the store.

Kitty’s “shopping list” was a bit odd, but Craig figured that was par for the course. He needed to get a scrubbing pouf (he didn’t know what that was, until he got to the store and asked a clerk, then realized that the little scribble next to it on the list was a picture of one) and a bottle of exfoliating body wash, with coordinating after-bath lotion, a three-pack of size 7 women’s bikini panties, a quart of chilled cranberry juice, a quart of chilled vodka, two one-liter bottles of water, and a bag of ice. Also, it said he needed to bring four of his favorite CDs. It almost felt like a scavenger hunt. But he did as he was told and showed up at the shop at 8:45, with a plastic grocery bag in each hand.

Madge looked up from the counter and said “We’re closing. Come back tomorrow or make an appointment.” He said that Kitty told him to be there, so she shouted to the back of the room.

A door opened and Kitty’s head poked through. She said, “Ring him up for 400 bucks and then you can go home.” Turning toward Craig, she added “When she’s done with you, come back here. I’m just finishing setting up.”

Madge took his credit card and ran it through the register. She handed it back and said, “All set. Go on back there.” He politely replied “Thanks, Madge,” but she sneered at him “My name’s not Madge” on her way out. What kind of weirdoes had he gotten himself mixed up with? It was his last chance to back out and run away, but since he’d already paid he felt he needed to see this thing through to completion. He picked up his bags and walked across to the door.

Chapter 2: Ouch!

Unlike the gloomy black of the main salon, the back room was done in a calming blue. There was a counter with a couple of sinks and some kind of tools, and in the center of the little room was a large black adjustable chair with a stool next to it. Kitty directed Craig to sit in the chair, and she pulled some levers to recline his back slightly, and raise his feet. She then started looking through the bags he’d brought. She dumped the bag of ice into a sink, and made a little nest in it for the bottles after pouring some into two coffee cups and handing one to Craig. “Here you go. I figured it would be easier for you if you were a little drunk, and vodka-cranberry is the kind of semi-sophisticated cocktail a cheerleader would have at a cheap party.” She nodded approval of his choice in brands for bath products, and put them back in their bag. She then held up the panties. The three-pack was a pink pair, a white pair, and a pair with pink and white stripes. “You made an interesting color choice. And the cut of these was a bold decision. They’re almost a string bikini. I’ll bet they’ll look really cute on you.” Craig blushed deeply and took a big swallow from his cup. She then turned a portable stereo on and loaded his CDs into the changer, commenting “I never would have figured you for a ‘classic rock’ guy,” as Led Zeppelin started coming out of the speakers.

She told him to take his shoes off. To get him more relaxed, they’d be starting with a pedicure. She pumiced his calluses then trimmed, filed, and buffed his toenails. His hygiene was pretty good for a guy; there wasn’t too much gross stuff under his nails.
“Is anyone going to be seeing your feet in the next few weeks who doesn’t know about your plan? Have you told your wife what’s going on?”

“Um, I’m not married,” he stammered. “I don’t think anyone will be seeing my feet. Why?”

“I thought all you uptight square guys were married. Have you got a girlfriend, then?” she asked, while massaging his foot. Switching to a tickle, she teased, “Or is it a boyfriend?”

“I’m not gay! I know I’m paying you to make me look like a girl, but it’s not because I want a guy.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her to think he was gay. “And no, I don’t have a girlfriend, at the moment.” Was he trying to flirt with her? That would not be a good idea. “But why does it matter who sees my feet?” Noticing his cup had somehow become empty he added, “Can I get a refill?”

She got up and poured him another drink. “Because this is the part in your pedicure where I’m about to put nail polish on your toes. So if anyone was going to see them it would let the cat out of the bag. Now I have a more important question for you: what kind of cheerleader are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“There are basically two kinds of girls who become cheerleaders: bitchy and perky. The bitchy cheerleader is the kind of girl who joined the squad because it’s expected of her in her role as alpha female. She’s usually regarded as one of the prettiest girls in her class, and she uses her sexuality to rule; cheering is just an extension of that. She’s got a boyfriend on the team she cheers for, but will only keep him as long as he provides her with status. She may put out on special occasions in exchange for jewelry, but she’s generally more of a tease than a slut. She likes being able to keep the boys frustrated; it proves she has power over them. The head cheerleader is almost always the bitchy type, but she will also have minions that model themselves after her. But in many cases the rank and file will be the perky kind. The perky cheerleader joined the squad because she’s all about ‘school spirit.’ She truly believes that her cheering helps the team she’s cheering for play better. While Bitchy is doing cheers to make all the boys in the stadium want to fuck her, Perky is actually trying to get the crowd excited about the game, so she sometimes is actually better at it than Bitchy. She probably has a boyfriend on the team she cheers for, and she dreams of following him to college, marrying him and having his babies. She may be saving herself, or she may have let him take her virginity. He’s most likely planning to get her drunk enough that she’ll blow the whole team at the party at the end of the season. So which are you?”

“You’ve really thought a lot about it. Were you a cheerleader in school?”

Kitty laughed uncontrollably for too long. “Hell, no. While it’s true I didn’t do all of this,” gesturing to display herself, “until after I graduated, I never exactly fit in with the popular crowd. High school is all about cliques and social strata. Although I will admit that for a year I was vaguely associated with the squad and got to watch them at close range. Don’t laugh, but I was in the band.” Craig tried not to giggle, but he let out a little noise. “Hey! I told you not to, but yes, I was briefly a band geek. I played alto sax.” She topped off his drink and asked, “So have you decided which kind of cheerleader you are?”

“Does it matter? Do I have to decide now?”

“It matters a great deal. I need to know what kind of look to prepare for, and you’ve only got a month to practice your persona. You have to decide now because it impacts which color I use on your toes.” She held up two bottles of nail polish. “If you’re the bitchy cheerleader, you get evil burgundy. If you’re the perky cheerleader, you get bubblegum pink.”

“I don’t think I could handle being bitchy and evil. Let’s go with the pink.”

“Good call. I think sweet and innocent fits you better.” She shook up the bottle of pink polish, wedged some contoured pieces of foam between his toes, and started painting his nails. “Now that that’s settled, have you thought of a name? When I’m finished with you, you won’t look much like a ‘Craig.’ A Perky girl usually has a name that ends in a Y, or EY or IE or the worst just an I or even worst worst an EE.”

“Your name ends in a Y. Are you sure you’re not a cheerleader?”

“Ha ha. Don’t make me mess up or I’ll have to clean it off and start over. Not every girl with a Y is a Perky, but most Perkies are girls with Ys.”

“Oh, ok. I won’t push it. But since I already got my real monogram put on my cheering stuff, I’ll have to use a name beginning with a C. Could I borrow your real name? Isn’t ‘Kitty’ usually short for ‘Katherine?’ I could be ‘Cathy’ with a C.”

“Kitty isn’t short for anything. It’s a nickname that was given to me that I chose to make my own.”

“What’s your real name?”

“My real self is named Kitty. Now I’m done with the first coat, but try not to move your feet while it dries.”

“What did your name used to be? Is it embarrassing or something? Wait — are you really a guy? Is that why you agreed to do this?” Craig tried to sit up, but the chair was tilted too far back.

“No, no. Settle back there. You don’t want to smudge your polish. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. I’m not a guy, although I guess I’m flattered that you think I could make one look like me. You’re probably going to laugh at me again, but I expect you’ll be even more embarrassed later, so try not to. My name was Laura.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”

“Let me finish. My name was Laura Katz, and there were these obnoxious bullies that used to tease me and call me Kitty Katz all through school, but when I turned 18 and got my first tattoo I decided I wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore, I decided to own my own identity and claimed ‘Kitty’ for myself with some cat-themed ink, and I kept going with the theme over the years. Hey! You didn’t laugh.” She went and got him another refill.

“I forgot I was supposed to. So when did you get the spots in your hair?”

“They’re new this year. I had streaks before, but I wanted a new look, and my partner Zell said she’d seen a technique for doing leopard style dying, and I let her try it out on me.”

“Your partner, eh? If you’re a lesbian, why were you asking if I had a girlfriend earlier?”

“She’s my business partner, Stupid! When I got my esthetician’s license, I didn’t want to work for someone else anymore, so I got some like-minded friends together and we drew up a partnership plan. I’m one of the owners of this place — do you think a common employee would be allowed to handle a special customer like you after hours? And while I have tried the whole lesbian thing as part of my counterculture rebellion, I found it wasn’t for me, and I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I was so not hitting on you before; I was just asking about a girlfriend to make small talk. Really. So, where were we? Oh yeah, if you need a C name, I don’t have one to give you, sorry. Although ‘Cathi’ could work just fine as a Perky name, although I’d go with an I rather than a Y, if only to make it less like that loser from the funny pages. Now hold still while I do a second coat.”

“I guess I could be a Cathi. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“I have. If I was a guy, I’d want to be a Felix, like the cat. But not a gay Felix like the Odd Couple guy, more like a Puerto Rican boxer.”

“You’d want to be a macho guy? You don’t seem all that butch now, even when I did think you were a lesbian.”

“Thanks, I think. But really, what would be the point in becoming a man if I was going to be a girly one? I can be as girly as I want to be now as an actual girl. No, if I became a man, I’d want to be manly as well, with ripped muscles and a great big piece of man-meat that I’d use to drive the ladies wild; I’d leave you begging for more, Cathi, I’m sure. Ok, now we want this coat to dry, but we don’t want to wait forever, so I’ll put your feet under the dryer and it will be done in no time.” Kitty adjusted the chair so he was sitting upright and lowered his feet and brought out a device that would blow warm air onto his toes. She worried that Craig might be getting too drunk to drive home on his own, so she asked him for his address and wrote it down, just in case she had to tell a cab where to take him. Then she had him take out his keys and show which one opened his townhouse door, and she took it from him and painted a pink spot on it with the nail polish to make it easier to pick out. She put the bottle in the bag with his bath products, so he could repair any chips. In only a few minutes his toes were dry to the touch.

She then led him back into the main room of the salon and showed him the door to the bathroom. Handing him his pink panties, she said “Next we’re going to start your wax, so I want you to strip when you’re in there, and come back wearing only these. You know, you might want to try sitting down to go, for practice. Make sure you wipe everything dry when you’re done. We don’t want any drips. And be gentle on your toes when you take your pants off; the polish might not be finished drying.” Craig did sit down, but mainly because he was feeling a little tipsy and it was easier. It also gave him a good look at the color on his toes. He’d thought it was rather pale in the jar and wouldn’t be so noticeable, but it was actually a fairly bold pink. Did he really want to do this? Maybe it was the liquor, but he was actually getting more curious about this whole project, so what the hell! He carefully pulled his feet out of his pants while he was sitting there and stepped into his panties. The color almost matched his toes. He remembered to wipe before pulling them up. He wasn’t sure whether Kitty was expecting him to tuck his stuff under, so he just left it bulging in front. He took his shirt off and folded it on top of his pants. The linoleum on the salon floor was cold on his bare feet, so he quickly scampered back to the other room.

Kitty had reconfigured the chair so that it was flat like a bed or a table. The headrest had been taken off and in its place was a round hole. She took his clothes from him and turned to place them on the counter, while peeking in the pile to see if he wore boxers or briefs — both, as it turns out: boxer briefs. She grabbed her Polaroid and took a picture of him standing there. He complained, but she showed that him that his head was completely out of the shot — she just wanted to have a set of before and after images to show him the difference. He relented and even turned around for her to shoot another of his back. This done, she pointed him at the chair/table/bed. “Hop up here and lie down, with your face looking through here. I’ll be starting on your back because it’s easier, and a little less embarrassing for you.”

When he was in position, she pulled out a strap from under the table and ran it around his waist. “Hey! I wasn’t looking for some kinky bondage stuff.”

“Just relax. It’s merely a restraint to keep you from moving.” She secured another strap around the back of his neck. “We use them mostly when we’re doing piercings or tattoos, but since this is your first wax, you may be tempted to flinch. If you move too much, you could mess up what I’m doing, or worse get injured. And they’ll keep you from taking a swing at me, as a reflex.” She repositioned what had been the arms of the chair so they were sticking straight out like a crucifix, and strapped his arms down at the shoulder and wrist. Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. She went back to his waist, and grabbed his panties and quickly pulled them down to his feet and off. He gasped. “Now how would you have expected me to wax your fuzzy little ass if you were still wearing these?” He could feel his face reddening. She then strapped his ankles down, and he realized that the foot end of the table was split, so each leg could be adjusted separately. She swung his legs slightly apart, and strapped him in at the knees.
“I don’t want you to kick me in the head, either. Now you’re all strapped in.” She went around to the front and poked her head under so he could see her. “Let me know if you have to use the restroom so I can undo all these, or fetch a bucket if it’s too urgent. Do you want another drink? I’ve got a straw.”

“No thanks. I don’t want to have to worry about that bucket. Maybe later.”

“Ok, now what I’m going to do is spread warm wax on you, press a strip of cloth into it, give it a few seconds to cool, then rip off the cloth, which will have stuck to the wax, along with most of your hairs on that area, as well as a thin layer of dead skin cells. Now it’s probably going to hurt a little at first, kind of like ripping off a band-aid, but you’ll get used to it after a while.” She loosened the strap on his left shoulder, and started there. There was only a little hair there, but it was dark enough to matter. The heat of the wax was a new feeling for him; it almost felt nice. But the sudden ripping was something he was not prepared for. He let out a little noise. “Don’t be afraid to shout or cry if it hurts. Remember that you’re not Craig the big boy who doesn’t cry, but Cathi the little girl who isn’t concerned with trying to pretend to be tough.” She worked her way down the back of his arm, adjusting the straps out of the way when necessary. She went across his back at the base of his neck, did the other shoulder and then down the other arm. By the time she was getting the hairs from his knuckles, he was weeping noticeably. He said he was ready for that straw, and she brought his drink over to beneath him and put a straw in his mouth. She wiped his face with a cloth, then went back and rubbed some soothing lotion into the pink skin on his arms. “It will be ok, Sweetie. Just hang in there. The stinging will fade.” Next she did his legs, working from ankle to hip, stopping at the outside of his. He was able to bear it a little better, maybe because he knew what to expect, or maybe it was just the booze killing the pain; his latest vodka-cranberry was far more vodka than cranberry.

Then it started to get trickier. She adjusted his legs so that they were spread wider, and got in there to wax between his buttocks. “Now this next part is going to hurt a little more, but it is definitely worth it. I’ve gotten it done myself several times. There’s just nothing as sexy as a completely naked ass. I’m going to use a topical anesthetic that will help a little, but it won’t numb you completely.” Then Craig felt a cold spray on and around his anus, followed by the warm wax. He braced himself for it, but the intensity of the pain still came as a shock.

He screamed, “Yowch! Are you sure this is really necessary? I don’t really need a sexy asshole. I’m sure I’ll be keeping my underwear on through the whole party — nobody’s going to even see it.”

“You’ll know. It really helps a girl’s attitude when she knows she’s feeling sexy, even if she hasn’t got a guy to show herself to. Sometimes you wear your prettiest lingerie just for you. Trust me on this.” She ripped out some more hairs and he shrieked again. “Besides, if you think this is bad, wait until we do the front. Consider this training for that. Now I’m going to do part of your perineum now, and catch the rest after we flip you over.” He felt some more cold spray lower down, which must be where a perineum is, but the waxing there didn’t quite feel as harsh. When Kitty finished and followed up with lotion all over his behind, she took extra care around his hole, and he thought he felt her rubbing a little of the lotion inside him. He let out a sigh of relief that was almost a moan of pleasure, and felt himself starting to become aroused. That could be a problem. He tried to remember the pain and put the soothing sensation out of his mind, so she wouldn’t notice anything while she worked on unstrapping him.

When the last of the straps was off, Kitty gave him a playful pat on his silky smooth bottom. “Ok, Cathi. Time to get up.” She took his hand and helped him roll over and sit up. He moved a hand to his lap to cover things. “Your modesty is cute, but I’m going to be working down there soon. Do you want to take another bathroom break before we start again?” He nodded shyly. “I can give you your panties again if it will make you more comfortable.” He nodded again, and she handed them to him and turned around to give him some privacy.

Craig slipped them on and felt odd that wearing little pink panties was making him less uncomfortable. He looked at his arms and they didn’t really seem different, although he could imagine that they were more feminine. He didn’t really have a strong mental picture of himself as a particularly hairy guy. He was a little wobbly after Kitty helped him to his feet, but he was able to make his way to the powder room on his own. He sat down, even though there was some tenderness, and noticed the smoothness of his behind as he pulled down his panties. He ran his hands along the back of his hairless thighs, and down his silky calves — this did feel sexy! Oh no, there was a problem. He was turning himself on. He considered trying to masturbate himself to release, but he figured Kitty would somehow be able to tell that he had, so he just had to wait until he calmed down. He looked down at his pink toenails and tried to focus on how much the rest of this was going to hurt. Eventually he relaxed to the point where he could do his business, wipe himself, wash his hands, and return to where Kitty was waiting.

The only thing that had changed in the room this time was that the headrest was plugging the hole in the table/chair again. It was still in a flat configuration. She had him lie down, face up this time, and put his arms out in a T again. The straps went around his waist, his neck and his arms, and then she pulled down his panties again. He flushed beet red and squirmed a little, trying to cross his legs, but she pushed his thighs down and strapped them in, and did the same to his ankles. He was helpless, vulnerable, and very embarrassed. Kitty tried to put him at ease by not staring, but she still started by spreading his legs apart. “Your legs look funny with smooth backs but hairy fronts, so we’ll finish them first. Since he wasn’t stuck looking at the floor this time, Craig got to see more of the waxing process. It was interesting in its way. She had a pot over on the counter on something like a hot plate that must have been the wax. She stirred this big flat stick that was kind of like a giant Popsicle stick or tongue depressor around in the pot, and then spread the wax out onto him like butter on toast. Then she took a strip of cloth like a bandage and stuck it into the wax. Since she was starting with his toes, the strips were very small, but they got bigger as she worked her way up his leg. The downside to being able to see what was happening is that now he was able to anticipate the pains and was tensing up in advance, which was causing the wax to pull unevenly. She had to distract him somehow. “You know, it really doesn’t seem fair that you’re lying there nude while I’m completely clothed. I should at least meet you halfway, don’t you think?” She took off her top, and the bounce of her 32B’s and the glittering of her nipple rings got his attention. He wasn’t watching the wax anymore. Guys are so predictable! He was getting a bit of an erection, but that could be an advantage when she got to waxing the bikini area, so she pretended not to notice.

Craig couldn’t help but look. Despite all the things Kitty had done to make herself look weird and unusual, she was still incredibly sexy. And it had been so long since he had been this close to a bare breast. Was she flirting with him, or was going topless just more of her nonconformity? He just couldn’t understand women. Maybe what he was doing now with sort of becoming one, well pretending at least, would give him some insight into the female mind. The rings in each of her nipples were strange and unusual, but he didn’t find them a turn-off. He could imagine touching one and seeing if it was held tightly in there, or if it could swing around in the hole. He was now picturing her leaning forward and seeing them swinging down into a vertical position. Would they swing back and forth during sex? His fantasy visions of swinging rings made him think of door knockers, and then the idea of “knockers on knockers” just set him giggling like crazy.

“I didn’t realize this was tickling you, but you’ll have to cut that out. Your shaking like that is about to make me mess up, and your legs are almost finished.”

“Sorry. I guess I’ve gotten used to the pain, because I didn’t notice how far you’d gotten.”

Pleased that her distraction plan was working, Kitty smiled to herself. The last few strips on his thigh went quickly. “Ok, the legs are done. I could continue working down here and do your bikini area, or would you rather I save that for last?” As she massaged lotion into his legs, she noticed that he was still very aroused.

“What are my other choices?”

“I could do your underarms next, which is tricky, but shouldn’t take too long, and usually doesn’t hurt too much. Or I could do your stomach and chest, which is easy and the skin is not particularly sensitive so it will only feel really painful when I get to the hair around your nipples. Or I could do your genital region which will probably hurt like hell. The other side was really rough on you, so we might want to save that for last. But if we do your bikini area first, I’ll let you put your panties back on when I’m done. I guess it all boils down to how long do you want to be completely naked?”

“Now that you mention it, I am feeling a little too exposed. So let’s go with that.” Kitty thought that he ought to get another drink in that case, so she loosened his neck strap and helped hold his head up with one hand and brought his cup over in the other so he could reach the straw. He took a few strong sips and felt heat in his throat and his head swam. “I don’t think I’ll be driving tonight. I’m starting to get a tit bipsy,” he slurred, while stealing a sidelong glance at her chest.

Kitty winked at him and gently set his head back down on the headrest. Then she went around and adjusted his legs so that were spread apart as wide as he’d let her. Some of the hairs were fairly long, so she started out by trimming things with a pair of scissors, teasing Craig, “If you want I can make you even more girlish with a couple of snips in the right place while I’m down here.” He laughed uncomfortably, so she didn’t push the joke any further. She used more of the anesthetic this time, but it still hurt. He shrieked. “It won’t be too much longer, Honey. I promise. You know, you might want to consider keeping things trimmed down here even after Cathi goes away. ‘Manscaping,’ as it’s called, is gaining popularity among the metrosexual crowd. Maybe you’ve seen the commercial of the guy with an electric shaver and a pair of kiwis. But really, a lot of guys are going for it. For one, it just looks cleaner and neater. Second, it’s a courtesy to any potential partner you want giving you oral satisfaction — hairs are just not appetizing. And finally, there’s the thing that real estate brokers tell you: trim the hedges smaller and it makes the house look bigger. Not to imply there’s anything wrong with your house; I’ve known guys who’ve made do with a lot less, but would you really turn down the illusion of a couple extra inches? Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you earlier. Are you Jewish?”

Craig was feeling a little overwhelmed, so it took him a while to appreciate that he’d been asked a question. “Um, no. I’m not Jewish. I was raised Presbyterian. Why?”

“I could have introduced you to my grandmother, who’s always worrying that I won’t meet any decent guys. She’d have liked you. All the gentile guys I’ve known were uncut, sorry to assume.”

He finally realized what she was talking about and turned beet red. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Ok. You need to make another decision anyway. What shape do you want me to make Cathi’s bush?” His blank stare caused her to elaborate. She stood up and faced him. “It’s going to be smooth and clear-cut all in here,” and gestured with her hands along the tops of her inner thighs. “And smooth along the sides of where your vulva would be. But we can leave a little patch of hair up here,” indicating the base of her pubic mound. “And that can be formed in a variety of shapes,” and she drew the shapes with her fingers, “There’s your basic triangle, or the long rectangle that you’ve probably seen in porn, or a little square if you favor extremely low-slung bottoms, or a trapezoid that’s sort of a cross between the triangle and the rectangle, or the ever-popular romantic heart. Which do you prefer, or we could just go baby-smooth all over?”

Trying to see if he could embarrass her for a change he asked, “What shape is yours?”

It didn’t work. She called his bluff. “I’ve got a rectangle, your standard ‘landing-strip.’ Want to see? I even dyed the carpet to match the curtains.”

He caved. “Maybe later. I guess I’ll go with a triangle, or Cathi will, or whatever. Unless a Perky is supposed to go with the heart?”

“Actually, that’s an astute observation, but Perky would probably only get a heart on the day she’s planning on letting her boyfriend take her virginity. If Cathi isn’t anticipating having sex after the big game, I think a triangle is fine. Hearts are a bitch to maintain, and usually get turned into triangles anyway.” The conversation had been an effective distraction, and she was almost done with the really painful part. It didn’t even seem like he’d noticed that she’d been touching his genitals. She framed out a perfect little triangle, and cleared all around it. When she was done with the genital area, she swung his legs back together. Then she massaged the after-waxing lotion all over the area, and he became very excited. She tried to be thorough without lingering in any place for too long.

“Can I get my underwear back now?”

“Not yet. I want to make sure I’ve gotten everything off of your hips and your little tummy, where the waistband to your panties will cover. And don’t just call them ‘underwear.’ A girlie girl wears ‘lingerie’ or ‘delicates’ or ‘unmentionables’ or ‘underthings’ if you really have to go in that direction. But I’ll be satisfied if you just call them panties.” She did a couple of passes at waist level, that didn’t hurt too much. He was either used to it by this point, or that area just wasn’t as sensitive, or he was drunker than he thought, or maybe some combination of the three. “Ok. Now ask me again, only do it right.”

“Can Cathi please put her panties back on, Miss Kitty?” Craig pursed his lips into a little pout and made puppy-dog-eyes at her, fluttering his eyelashes. She giggled and undid the straps on his legs, then pulled his panties up into place, where they were horribly tented, and she could see a small spot beginning to form.

“I think we’re going to need another break, so you can take care of that.” She nodded in the general direction, and he got flustered. She undid the rest of the straps, and helped him sit up. “Can you stand ok, or are you still tipsy?” He was a little dizzy, so she helped him walk to the bathroom. “Now do what you’ve got to do in there, then see if you can tuck things away when you’re done so they don’t give us anymore trouble.”

He sat down and lowered his dainty girly underthings and looked down at definitely feminine pink toenails on bare legs. He ran his hands down his smooth thighs and it felt incredibly sexy! He examined himself closely, and there was no hair anywhere from his anus to his testicles to his penis, and all around there. There was only this cute little three-inch triangle pointing to the base of his member. He thought that maybe it did look a little bigger without all the hair. He took himself in his left hand, just to feel a little more like someone else, and started gently rubbing. He closed his eyes and pictured Kitty’s chest, imagining he was looking down upon it while thrusting into her. His fantasy self reached down and gave her firm yet supple breast a playful squeeze, and ran his thumb across her nipple ring. He felt release coming, and opened his eyes to discover that his other hand had been playing with his own nipple. He aimed into the bowl and let sex just flow out of him in three or four spurts. He took a tissue and wiped himself off, but then decided that why he was there, he might as well try to pee, since he’d been drinking all night. He took a deep breath, relaxed, and had no trouble. Then he wiped himself again, flushed, and pulled up his precious frilly delicates. Remembering what she’d asked, he tried folding his stuff back, and pulling his panties up so they’d be really tight in the crotch area. He hoped it would pass muster. He nearly tripped on his way to the door, so he was grateful when he saw Kitty waiting there to escort him back to the torture chamber.

She raised the back of the table and lowered the legs, turning it back into a chair, and had him sit down, then strapped him in tight and raised his arms up over his head. “We’ll do your underarms next. There’s a lot of hair here, so I’ll start with the scissors again. Hair that’s longer than a half inch or so doesn’t wax as easily — there’s too much opportunity for the hairs to break instead of pulling out.” While she was at it, she also trimmed down some of the longer chest hairs around his nipples. Waxing his armpits hurt more than he was expecting it to but he managed to hold it in and didn’t make any noise, although a couple of tears did form in the corners of his eyes. Kitty lowered his arms, but held back on the finishing lotion until she had completed the job everywhere. She then picked up where she’d left off at his waist, and waxed the rest of his stomach. The hair there didn’t grow all in the same direction, and each change in the orientation of the grain made her need to change to a new strip. Craig just thought she was making an odd pattern, but didn’t question it — it was clear by now that she knew what she was doing. She worked her way up to his chest, then went around and made sure his shoulders were clear of hair.

She went down the middle, along his sternum and out over his collarbone on each side. All that was left was the area where Cathi’s breasts would be. She brought out the anesthetic spray again, and made sure his nipples were very numb, after tweaking them into standing up. “Now this could hurt a lot, but I’ll try to be as careful and gentle as I can.” She ripped the hair out from his pectorals, spiraling in. When she got to the areola, he could tell. It was a burning, shooting pain that he thought would never fade. He screamed. Fortunately she was expecting it, so she didn’t flinch in shock and hurt him worse. Three more strips that were just as bad and she announced. “There. Your left breast is nice and smooth.” Before switching sides, she worked a generous amount of the lotion into his sore areas, rubbing back into the armpit while she was there. The right side was essentially the same process, only this time the spiral seemed to be delaying the inevitable. The second nipple was just as painful as the first but when that was finished, there was nothing left to do so Craig felt a tremendous sense of relief as Kitty massaged healing lotion into his chest. “All right, that’s the last section. We’re finished! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The look on Craig’s face answered her question. “Ok, it was so bad. But trust me on this; it was so totally worth it. I’ll bet you’ll start feeling girlish and pretty already, or at least you will when you wake up tomorrow. Cathi is going to be so cute!”

She helped him stand up, then took another set of headless Polaroids, one from the front and one from the back, then showed him his Before and After images next to each other. It was amazing! The Before picture was a hairy guy wearing panties, but the After picture was a girl without much of a figure — she even seemed to have little breasts; Craig was a bit flabbier in the chest than he’d realized, and there was a shadow in the picture that made you think you were seeing more flesh, particularly since all the irritation had made his nipples bigger and pinker than usual. With his penis tucked away, there was nothing in the picture that read as male. The photo from the back was even worse: Craig’s first impression was that the girl in the picture had a really sexy ass; it was something in the way the cut of the panties were letting her bare cheeks peek out at the edges! This confused him greatly.

Kitty snapped out of it by handing him his clothes and telling him he could get dressed now. He didn’t care that he was doing it in front of her; he just immediately pulled his pants on, without even bothering to change into his real underwear. He put on his undershirt, but his nipples were still hurting, so he didn’t button his outer shirt. He sat down and put on his shoes and socks. She took him into the waiting area, and handed him a bottle of water. “I don’t think you should drive home, and it’s a little too late to get a cab to come out here without waiting forever, so I’ll take you. Wait here while I clean up in there. Drink all of this, so you don’t get a hangover tomorrow. I shouldn’t be too long, but if you get bored you can read a magazine.” Too late for a cab? What time was it anyway? Craig found his watch and fastened it around his hairless wrist. It was 1:17 a.m. He’d been there for over four hours! He looked through the stack of magazines and settled on one about liberal politics, after dismissing one full of pictures of horrible things people had done to themselves, and another about which celebrities were dating. Every so often, Kitty would poke her head out the door and remind him to drink his water. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long; I have to disinfect everything. There’s another bottle when you’re done with that one.” He was almost finished reading an article on global warming when she came out into the room, pushing a rolling trash barrel. “I’ve just got to take this out to the dumpster then we can get out of here.” He tried offering to help, but when he stood up he wobbled a bit too much, so she made him stay. She quickly came back and got Craig’s shopping bags and escorted him out, locking the door on her way out.

Chapter 3: The Morning After

Kitty’s car was a lime green station wagon that looked at least twenty years old. She opened the passenger door and got him situated before going around to the driver’s side. The complex where he lived was right off a main street so it was easy to find, but it was building after building of townhouses, so he had to show her which one was his. It was way too cookie-cutter for her taste. She helped him to the door, reminded him that he wanted the key with the pink spot, and carried his bags inside. He was so drunk and sleepy that she then needed to walk him upstairs to his room and undress him and put him to bed. At this point, Kitty was getting fairly tired herself, so she decided she’d crash at Craig’s place and take him to get his car in the morning. She poked around the townhouse. His living room had a recliner, a rocking chair and a loveseat, none of which looked practical for spending the night. His only pieces of furniture in what should have been the second bedroom upstairs were a computer desk and a stationary bicycle. So she went back into Craig’s room and saw that there was plenty of room in his king-size bed. Figuring that there were very few secrets left between them, she decided to join him.

So it happened that when Craig woke up at 6:24 am with an extremely full bladder, he noticed an arm lying across his chest. He was surprised and confused, but other problems were more urgent so he carefully slipped out from under her arm and off the far side of his bed, walked around and went into the master bathroom, carefully shutting the door so it wouldn’t make too much noise. He caught a look at his hairless body in the mirror and was reminded how feminine he looked. He saw that he was still wearing his pink panties and nothing else. Sitting down to relieve himself felt like the natural thing to do, and it gave him a few moments to think. How did he get here? Why was Kitty in his bed - had they had sex? He figured he’d be more damp and messy if that were the case, so probably not. It was too early, and he hadn’t had a full night’s rest so he really wanted to go back to sleep. But how could he do that with a sexy girl in his bed? He snuck back in and clung to the edge of his side of the bed, trying not to disturb his guest.

About an hour later, they were both awakened by a loud yowl. Kitty opened her eyes to see an angry calico cat sitting on the end of the bed. Craig rubbed his eyes and said, “Sorry.”

“That’s ok. I didn’t know you were a cat person.” She smiled at him.

“I was apologizing to the cat, actually. But I’m sorry she woke you, too. She’s complaining because her breakfast is overdue.” He slid out of bed and the cat followed him downstairs.

Kitty took advantage of the opportunity and grabbed a couple things out of her purse. When he came back into the room she asked, “How come I didn’t see your cat before?”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Nitro usually hides from strangers. She’s generally only friendly to me.”

“Nitro? That’s a weird name for a cat.”

“She’s unstable and requires careful handling. They nicknamed her that at the vet, and it was just too appropriate. I found her about seventeen months ago in the parking lot at the all-night grocery store. She was limping on one of her back legs, and so skinny I didn’t think she’d been eating. I didn’t know what to do, so I took her home and fed her some tuna. I brought her to a vet the next day and they treated her for a bunch of stuff and I was going to take her to an animal shelter, since I wasn’t looking to own a pet, but they said she had an attitude problem and wouldn’t be likely to be adopted if I did that. So I kept her, and eventually we got a routine. She still won’t sit in my lap, but she will sit on the arm of my chair and let me scratch her behind the ears.”

“That’s really sweet of you.” She got an odd glint in her eye. “Say, do you need to go anywhere this morning, like church or something?”

He looked confused. “No, I barely even go at Christmas anymore. I’m not doing anything today. Why do you ask?”

“Then you should come back to bed.” She pulled the covers back, and he saw that she was naked. She gave the space beside her a couple pats with her hand to show him where to go.

He cautiously climbed over her and lay down. “Did we do anything last night I should remember?”

She leaned over and kissed him fully and completely, passing him a curiously strong breath mint with her tongue. “No. Cathi was a good girl and kept her panties on all night. Now before we correct that oversight, I want to make something clear. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I have already rendered every service for which you paid, and now I’m off the clock. This is me in my own time. I’m a certified, licensed esthetician, and we run a legitimate beauty establishment. We’re not one of those brothels that pretend to be spas. I don’t make it a habit of going to bed with my customers, but something about you makes me want to. Besides, I can show you some of the benefits of your waxing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Without all that hair in the way, your skin is much more sensitive. Feel this.” She gently scratched her nails across his chest, lightly making slight circles at his nipples. “Yesterday, that would have been a tangle of hair, but today your breasts can enjoy it. And see how sensual the feel of bare skin against bare skin can be.” She turned on her side toward him and rubbed her leg against his — the feel of a smooth thigh against his was indeed pleasurable beyond words, and he even thought he felt her little pubic bush tickle his hip. He was making a tent in his panties again, so Kitty needed two hands to pull them off of him. She then took a condom out from under the pillow and unrolled it onto him. “You’re still so uptight. Just relax.” She kissed him again, and this time he responded more actively. She turned and lay on top of him and took his hands in hers, then released the kiss and sat up on his stomach, straddling him with her knees. She pulled his left hand to her lap. “See? This is what a vertical Brazilian bikini wax looks like. It’s smooth over here,” she moved his hand, “and smooth over here, but in the middle there’s a line of fur for my kitty.” It was indeed dyed the same bright pink as the hair on her head. She placed his hand right on her sex, and he wiggled his fingers. His thumb teased her labia, while his longer fingers sought her clitoris. “Ooh! Keep petting her like that, and she’ll start to purr.” She arched her back and gave a little moan. He took his other hand and reached up to touch her breast. He stroked her in small circles.
She moved her hands down to brush his smooth chest, using her long nails to tease his nipples, which were still a little tender. He flipped his hand over and slipped a finger inside her. “You’re better at this than I expected. But I guess since you’re like forty you have more experience.”

He laughed, and since she was sitting on his diaphragm the vibration sent and incredible wave of pleasure through her. “I’m only thirty-two. You thought I was forty? I’m not all that bald or grey and wrinkled. I guess I do come across as square and uptight! So when you were giving me all those lessons on girl stuff you thought you were talking to someone twice your age? You have no respect for your elders, Missy!” He gave her nipple a playful tweak, and sure enough the ring in it did move. Meanwhile, he was up to three fingers squirming inside her.

“You guess forty is twice my age? How young do you think I am, Gramps? Or is your math just that bad?” She leaned down and pulled his face up to hers for another kiss.

He put his free arm around her and held the kiss longer, before releasing her and sliding his hand down to knead her buttock. “You’re so vibrant and playful, I’d have said around nineteen, but I’m guessing I was wrong. My math is impeccable. Call me if you ever need help with your books — I’m in accounting.”

She eased his hand out, raised herself up, and shimmied backward. “I’m twenty-six. We’re actually closer than either of us thought. Go figure.” She took hold of his erection in her left hand and held her lips open with her right, then slowly lowered herself onto him. He raised his hips to help. Since Kitty was on top, she did most of the work, rocking herself up and down, and grinding her hips. Craig eventually figured out when to thrust back up at her. He tried to reach around behind and help hold her up, but she nixed that and placed his hands on her breasts instead, so he played with her nipple rings some more. He thought about asking her what they felt like, but her eyes were closed and she was biting her lower lip in a way that looked like she was concentrating intensely. She started rocking much faster and a few little noises came out of her mouth, building in intensity until she moaned, “Oh, Cathi!” Then she held perfectly still for a few moments. It was disconcerting for Craig to be called a female name while in the throes of passion that he began to lose rigidity, despite failing to have his own climax. He decided that his best move would be to fake it, so he let out a gasp and a shudder, and lay still himself for a bit. Then he pulled Kitty down and gave her a kiss and threw his arms around her as she dismounted him and swung over to snuggle up beside him. He took the condom off and threw it in his bedside trashcan, noticing how easily it came off without any hair to get caught.

They lay there for a while, and almost fell asleep. But Kitty snapped out of it first. “Come on. I’ll show you how to use your new shower stuff.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of bed and brought him to the bathroom. “Get in and turn on the shower as hot as you can stand.” She gave him a little while to get adjusted, then joined him. As soon as she got in, she turned the water hotter.

“Hey! I already had it as hot as I could bear, like you told me to.”

“Well, get used to it a little hotter than you can bear. We want your pores to open up as much as possible. All those little hairs we pulled out are now empty holes, and the goal is to keep them empty until the hairs grow back. If dirt or oil or sweat or dead skin clogs one of those follicles, you’ll end up getting an ingrown hair, which is an extremely painful little red bump like a pimple, but you can’t pop it; you just have to wait for the hair to come to the surface. So you want the hottest water you can, and then you get your new pouf wet and put a couple squirts of your body wash into it,” demonstrating what to do as she said this. “Then work it into a lather, then scrub everywhere as hard as you can. You want to make sure you get every place that was waxed.” She vigorously rubbed his back with the scrubber, then handed it off to him. “There you go. Now scrub really hard. If it doesn’t hurt, you’re not doing it hard enough.” When he was all scrubbed, she said, “Good girl, Cathi. I’ll wash your hair for you as a reward.” Kitty found Craig’s shampoo bottle, found it to be of acceptable quality, and had him lean down while she worked the suds into his scalp. “Now, ideally, you should also be using a decent conditioner. But I understand that you don’t want a lot of body in the boring hairstyle you wear when you’re dressed like a guy. Maybe next weekend you can try a volumizing conditioner and blow dry your hair into something fuller, it might help you feel more girlish. Ok, now rinse.” When the soap was out of his hair, she commented “By the way, that whole ‘lather, rinse, repeat’ stuff they put on shampoo bottles is marketing bullshit to make you use it up faster. You go to any professional and we’ll only lather you once and rinse you once and it will be enough to keep your hair clean. Oh no!” She gasped in mock horror, “I missed a spot. Stand there. I said I’d wash your hair, but I completely forgot about this hair down here.” She squatted down in front of him and rubbed a bit of shampoo into his pubic triangle, but it was quickly rinsed off due to how she had him standing in the shower stream. But she didn’t stand up; instead, she started fondling him while she was there. “Before I go any further, have you been tested for everything? Since we do tattooing and piercing, a condition of our insurance is that we all have to be regularly screened for all kinds of diseases. Now I want to show you another of the upsides of your waxing, but I’m not going to risk losing my business over it. So, is your blood clean?”

“I can’t say absolutely. I haven’t been to the doctor in a while. But I haven’t been sick, and I haven’t done anything that could have gotten me one of those diseases in a very long time. I’ve never been pierced or tattooed or shot up with heroin. Until today, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in eight months, and that wasn’t unprotected anyway.”

“Good enough. Now, the benefit to being smooth here is twofold. First, you get better sensations with just bare skin here. Like this, for example.” She ran her tongue along the underside of his penis, from the base of the shaft all the way to the tip. And she was right; he thought he could feel each little taste bud. “Second, it’s a lot more appealing for me, (or whoever’s in my position) to know that I won’t have to deal with any unpleasant hairs in my food. For example, a big hairy pair of man-balls is just completely unappetizing, but this smooth pink sack here looks downright tasty!” By way of illustration, she gently caressed his testicles with her lips, and took them into her mouth and ran her tongue all over before letting them go. “This reminds me that there’s another decision you’ll have to make about the kind of girl you are.” She kissed him on the tip, both to hold his interest and tasting to see if anything was flowing yet. “When Cathi goes down on her boyfriend the football player, like I am now, is she the kind of girl who spits, or the kind who swallows?” She kissed him again, pulling more of him into her mouth this time. He involuntarily rocked his hips forward, but she put her hands on them to push him back.

“What would Cathi think? Spitting is kind of gross, but so is swallowing icky stuff! Well, if I remember the story correctly, she thinks her boyfriend loves her and wants to marry her after graduation, so swallowing something that came out of him might be less icky. And swallowing would make less of a mess, so I’m pretty sure she’s the kind of girl who swallows.” Kitty had by this point taken him completely into her mouth and was sucking softly, so she could only grunt in response to him. But she was glad he had a reasonable description of Cathi’s thought process, so he had clearly earned his reward. She brought her fingers into play and moved her tongue faster. He was close to the edge; she could feel it, so she got ready and held her breath. Craig’s fluids came gushing out and she caught almost every drop. Now it was her turn to decide what kind of girl she was. Since they’d already killed most of the morning, she didn’t want to take the time to find out how orally skilled Craig was, so she stood up and kissed him deeply, snowballing his load of semen into his own mouth. He was shocked and surprised, but she wouldn’t let him close his mouth and push it back. Once he swallowed, she let him go. “You tricked me!”

“I was trying to help you get in character.” She kissed him again. “And kissing is fun. Don’t you think so?” It was an argument he couldn’t counter, so he just laughed. Craig turned off the water and got out of the shower to fetch a towel for each of them. “Because of all that harsh cleaning, you now need to get the moisture back into your skin. So don’t rub too hard with the towel; just blot. Then you want to take your after-bath lotion like this, and rub it in all over.”

“So what’s going to keep this stuff from clogging all those pores we just opened?”

“It’s thinner and slipperier in consistency. It should get out of the way of any hairs sprouting up. But that’s a good question. It shows you’re paying attention.” She helped him massage the lotion into the places he couldn’t easily reach. When he went to put on his antiperspirant, she stopped him. “Stop. If you put that on, it will sting terribly. I should have told you before to pick up some women’s deodorant when you got your other stuff. You’ll want to go out and get something that will be gentler on your bare skin: a roll-on or a soft gel or even an aerosol if you just want to fuck up the planet.” She then followed him back into the bedroom. As he started to get dressed, she showed him where she’d put his other two pairs of panties on the dresser. “You probably ought to wear these. They’re softer than men’s underwear, and that same improved sensitivity that makes sex better might make your boxer briefs uncomfortable.” Craig didn’t like it, but she had a point. In fact, when he put his t-shirt on, his nipples were still very irritated and he winced noticeably. “Ooh, it looks like you’ve got some discomfort on top, too. What you ought to do today is go out and shop for a camisole that you can wear beneath your undershirt to protect your tender parts. I’d say get a bra, but that might show under your clothes. A camisole goes all the way to your waist, so it’s less likely to show a seam. The word you want to look for in the store is ‘microfiber.’ It’s a really soft tightly-knit fabric that should fit your purpose, and they should have some styles that aren’t too lacy in the cups, which would defeat your purpose. You could try a boybeater tank, but sometimes they have really thick edging that might show through your shirt. You’d probably take a size large. If you don’t want to try it on in the store, so get one and take home and if it’s not the right size take it back, but if it is the right size get a couple more so you don’t have to wash your delicates every day.” She sat on the bed wrapped in her towel, and watched him finish dressing. When he was done, she reached into her purse and got her keys. “Can you do a favor for me? I have an emergency overnight bag in the back of my car, but I was too tired last night to bring it in. It’s a big blue shoulder bag.”

“Sure, if you can tell me where my glasses are. I can’t see very clearly without them.”

“That’s what’s different about you. I had completely forgotten that you wear them. It makes you look younger without them.” She retrieved them from where she’d left them when she put him to bed and handed them to him.

He put them on. “Wow. I’d forgotten exactly how sexy you look.” He gave her another kiss. “Hey! How’d you get your makeup on so fast? It’s too neat for you to have slept in it.”

“You big silly! My eye makeup is tattooed on. It’s called ‘permanent makeup,’ although it really fades eventually. It’s one of our services. Interested?”

“No thanks. I’m not ready for anything even called permanent. Cathi’s really more of a temporary girl.” He took her keys and happily skipped down the stairs. Kitty’s car key was easy to pick out; it was the one with a spot of green paint on it the color of her car. He got her bag and brought it to her. “Here you go. If you brought an overnight bag with you, does that mean that you’d planned on staying over from the start?”

“No, I didn’t plan this; I was just tired. I guess it’s time for another lesson. Every woman who wants to avoid the walk of shame keeps an emergency overnight bag somewhere with a complete change of clothes, a few toiletries, and sometimes an extra pair of shoes. Not only is it useful for when a date goes better than you planned and you end up spending the night, but also for if you get a call from a girlfriend who’s having a personal tragedy and needs you to be there, and it never hurts to be prepared for if a disaster happens to your outfit, like a mud puddle or a clumsy waiter who spills soup on you or an unexpected heavy flow day. But it’s important to note that if it is a date that went well, you can’t let the guy think you might have been expecting it, or he’ll think you’re a slut. So you pretend that it’s your gym bag, or a laundry bag, or luggage from a trip you’d recently taken, or sometimes you just pass it off as an unusually large purse and only change your underwear. Anything to preserve the illusion that you don’t have a healthy sexual appetite. Men are stupid.” While she was talking, she’d dressed in a tiny blue thong panty, a faded pair of black jeans, and a purple cropped t-shirt that said “Buck Fush” on it in red letters. Craig tried not to watch her dress, but her casualness about it was captivating.

“If this bag thing is supposed to be a secret, why are you telling me about it?”

She sat down on the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of black strappy sandals with 2” heels. “I’m not telling you. I’m telling Cathi. It’s my duty as her sensei in the ways of the feminine arts to impart such knowledge.”

Craig bowed toward her. “Thank you, Master. Would you like some breakfast? My coffee maker is on a timer, so it should be ready. Or are you in a hurry to get out of here?”

“No, my first client today isn’t until noon. Breakfast sounds good. Give me a few minutes to freshen up and I’ll join you down in the kitchen.” He left and she went into the bathroom and took care of things, then put on a little mascara, some lipstick, and face powder, got her bag and purse together then went downstairs. She’d expected breakfast would be toast or cereal or maybe eggs at best, but something smelled heavenly! “What’s cooking?”

“I’m baking apple muffins. They should be about seven more minutes. In the meantime, take a seat. There’s coffee in the carafe, milk in the cream pitcher and sugar in the bowl on the table. If you need fake cream or fake sugar, I think I’ve got some somewhere.”

“Wow. You’re such a sweet hostess. And you bake, too? You’re going to make some lucky guy an excellent wife, Cathi. All that’s missing is a frilly little apron.”

He ignored her jibes and explained, “I’m having some packages delivered this week and the UPS guy usually leaves them with Mrs. Walker next door, so I figured I’d bring her a basket of muffins. She’s a sweet old lady. She’s 78 and still really active, but I like to help her out when I can. She sings in her church choir, and it’s one of those gospel choirs that claps and dances and shouts ‘Hallelujah,’ and she can still keep up with it all. I’ve seen their Easter concert the last few years. Will a muffin be enough for your breakfast, or do you want something more? I could offer you a bowl of cereal or some fruit, or even scramble an egg if you’re really hungry.”

Kitty couldn’t tell if he was serious, or just trying to get her back for calling him a hostess by going full on June Cleaver. She opted not to call his bluff. “No, a muffin’s fine, and this coffee is really good. I usually don’t eat much for breakfast anyway.”

“So, if I can change the subject, where do we go from here?”

“Your party is in the evening on a Saturday in four weeks, right? I want you to make an appointment for another wax in a couple of weeks, where we’ll just be going after any hairs that broke instead of being pulled out this time; it shouldn’t take anywhere near as long. I’ll give you a final wax the day before your party to catch any stubble that’s grown back, and then expect to spend most of that Saturday in the salon. I’ll want to take a sample of your hair so I can find extensions that match the color, and when you get your cheer uniform, bring it to me so I can make sure accessories like hair ribbons and things will coordinate. This project is going to be fun!”

“Oh, ok. But that’s not really what I wanted to ask. I mean where do we go as in us, you and me.”

“Oh… Look, it was good and all, but sex doesn’t always have to mean anything.” He was definitely being the girl here. “I hope what we did up there isn’t going to get in the way of our professional relationship.”

“So it was just a one-time thing, is that what you’re saying?” She could tell he was trying to keep the hurt from showing in his voice.

She got up and went over to him and gave him a kiss. “That’s not what I’m saying. Give me your cell phone.” She took his phone and pushed a bunch of buttons. “Ok, now I’m in your address book. I put both my cell number and my work number, so you can make your next appointments. Now call my cell so I can get your number.” Craig did so, and sure enough her little pink phone rang. She answered and hung up, then entered his number into her phone and showed him that she’d called it “Cathi” in her contact list. “Ok, so I’m not looking for any kind of relationship right now, but you can call me sometime if you want to get together again casually. Don’t expect to be automatically getting sex, but it might happen. Where I am at this point I don’t want a commitment tying me down.” Kitty figured this attitude to sexuality would keep her from another broken heart.

“So it’s a maybe. I guess I can live with that.” Just then, the oven timer went off, and he had to take his muffins out to cool. He gave Kitty one but warned her not to burn her mouth. She cut it open and the butter she spread on it melted instantly. It was delicious!

After she’d eaten three muffins, she was ready to go. Craig was glad he’d baked two dozen. They got in Kitty’s car and she drove to the salon. She told him to wait and dashed in, then came back shortly. “I needed to get my good scissors. Hold still.” She cut a small lock of hair off the back of his head and put it in a plastic sandwich bag. “Now I can do that color match. For the next month, try to let your hair and nails grow. The vitamin store in the mall sells a supplement for helping them grow, and some of my clients have gotten good results from it. Feel free to call me if you have any questions about girl stuff.” She went back inside and he got in his car and drove off.

His shirt was really bothering his nipples, so he went shopping on the way home. He found microfiber camisoles and they were indeed a very soft material, but he was torn between two different styles. One was simple, plain white with thin straps and without any embellishments, but according to the tag it came with a built-in “shelf bra,” and whatever that was he was fairly sure he didn’t want any kind of a bra. The other style he found didn’t have any kind of bra, but it only came in pastel colors and had a bit of lace on the edges, a little ribbon bow in the middle, and its straps had buckles for adjusting them, so he was worried they might show. He didn’t want to stand around for too long making up his mind, out of fear that a salesgirl might come over and ask if he needed help. He ended up getting the white one and three of the colored ones, in pale yellow, pink and lavender. The rack they were on also had matching panties, so he figured he might as well get them and then he’d have a week’s worth. On his way out of the intimates department, a large sign advertising “Microfiber” drew his attention, and he saw that they were selling nightgowns. He got a nice long one, with adjustable straps like the camisoles but a bit more lace trim. He chose blue, rationalizing that it was a more masculine color. He also picked up the matching robe, after picturing getting out of bed with bare arms and shoulders. But now he had a shopping basket full of lingerie, and he was worried that people would think he was some kind of pervert. He debated internally whether it would be better to add something from menswear that was definitely for him or something even more feminine that couldn’t possibly be for him, to make it clear that he was buying gifts for his wife, or maybe for his girlfriend would be better since he didn’t have a ring. He went to the jewelry department and picked out a pair of earrings that weren’t too expensive. He didn’t have pierced ears, so they couldn’t possibly be for him — that would work. Unfortunately, he accidentally picked clip-on earrings and didn’t notice until he was checking out but then it was too late, so he had to put up with the humiliation of the cashier giving him a look. She knew. He could tell.

When he got home, he took off his shirt and undershirt and put on the white camisole. He didn’t pick a colored one because he didn’t want to have to change his panties, and it would seem wrong not to wear the matching set. He learned what a shelf bra was: an extra-tight band of elastic under where his breasts would be if he had them, and in the mirror it almost seemed to be hinting that they were there. He put his other layers back on, and if he knew what he was looking for there might be a trace of something, but at worst it seemed like he was developing man-boobs. And except for the shelf bra, it was very comfortable. His nipples had stopped complaining. He got his muffin basket together and went next door. Mrs. Walker didn’t seem to notice that anything was off, but she did ask about the strange car that was in his spot the previous night. He tried to pass it off as just being driven home by a friend, but she could tell by the way he talked about this “friend” that it was someone special to him. He tried to change the subject by telling her he’d be getting some packages that week, but then he had to stammer a bit when she wanted to know what kind of packages. He said they were personal things that he might tell her about later. He said it was for a project he was working on with that friend who drove him home, and she gave him a conspiratorial wink. That would probably hold her for a while.

Then he decided to go out and get the rest of the things he needed. He went to the mall and got the special vitamins for hair and nails. They were in the “women’s health” section of the nutrition store. He hoped they weren’t any extra ingredients designed to work with female hormones or something. (There weren’t.) He went to the drugstore and got some women’s roll-on deodorant that promised not to leave marks on his pretty dresses and a bottle each of high-end shampoo and conditioner. He was a little insecure about buying those things so he threw in a box of maxi-pads, to make it clear that he was shopping for “his girlfriend.”

As he got ready for bed that night, he undressed and looked in the mirror in just his panties and camisole. He definitely looked girlish, even before he tucked his genitals under. He posed and pouted at the mirror for a while, then took off his camisole and put it on his growing pile of delicates in the laundry. He made a mental note that he’d have to get some kind of special detergent for his lingerie now. He put on his new nightgown, and the feel of all that soft fabric on his smooth skin was incredible! If he hadn’t been tucked into his panties he was sure that he’d be tenting his nightie in a most unladylike manner. It was a little too uncomfortable for him, so he gathered his hem up to his waist and dropped his panties, letting his penis spring to immediate erection. He then masturbated himself until he went soft, and cleaned up. He was tempted to lick off his fingers, but he shook that idea out of his head. Following the directions on the box, he attached a pad to his panties before tucking things back and pulling them up. He didn’t want any accidents to stain his pretty gown.

Chapter 4: Shopping for Cathi

The next day he’d set his alarm an hour earlier than usual, since his new showering routine took longer, even though it wasn’t as enjoyable as when Kitty was helping him. He went with his purple camisole, which was definitely more feminine than the white one, but more comfortable without the tight band of the shelf bra. Under his t-shirt, the buckles on the straps weren’t as obvious as he’d feared but the color was dark enough that he could make out the shape, so he wore a dark gray shirt and it seemed to cover everything, and once he got his jacket on it would disappear completely. The purple panties that matched the camisole were cut a little lower than his other ones. His penis threatened to stiffen and peek out the waistband. It seemed safer to just tuck it under. He managed to get through his work day without incident. The only rough spot was when he had to use the restroom. He didn’t want anyone to see his lavender panties, so he went into a stall instead of standing, and made sure that he dropped his pants and underpants at the same time, but then he had a moment of panic when he was sitting there and imagined that someone peeking under the door would be able to see that his legs were bare. He told himself it was a ridiculous idea, but pulled his socks all the way up anyway, an act which made him briefly wonder how his legs would look in stockings. This whole business was really messing him up! He also was worried that someone would catch a scent of his deodorant that smelled girlishly like flowers mixed with baby powder, so he consciously kept his arms low all day. He also called his eye doctor and made an appointment to get measured for contacts. They fit him in that evening, before they closed but after he left work. When the technician went to order his lenses, he told her he was interested in colored ones. She kind of looked at him funny, but he told her (truthfully) that he’d met a girl who said he’d look better with blue eyes, so why not give it a shot? It would be a few days for them to come in. When he got home he said hello to Mrs. Walker, and was disappointed that there were no packages. He thought about calling Kitty that night, but restrained himself, since he was supposed to be keeping it casual. He took his new vitamins with his supper, since they were supposed to be taken with a meal, and he looked at his fingers, imagining longer nails. His hands already seemed feminine without any hair, but nails would make it more so. He remembered the bottle of nail polish sitting on his bathroom counter and decided to get some nail polish remover so that he could try painting his nails the following weekend to match his toes. He put a pad into his panty again before getting into his nightgown, as his silky thighs rubbing together were really turning him on.

His day Tuesday was much the same as Monday, except that his intimates were yellow instead of lavender. They didn’t show as much under his clothes so he had more confidence. Nothing noteworthy happened during his workday, but when he got home there was a little pink note stuck to his door that said the UPS guy had left 2 packages next door. He went over and got them and thanked his neighbor. He’d have to bake her something special again. Both packages were from generically-named companies, so he couldn’t tell which of the things he’d ordered they were. He took the boxes up to his bedroom to open them. The smaller of the two packages were the two DVDs designed to help crossdressers and other transsexuals: “How To Talk Like a Woman” and “How To Act Like a Woman.” He put “How To Talk” into the player in his bedroom and watched the first lesson. The hostess had a passably female voice, and if you didn’t know better you’d probably assume she was a natural woman but you could find them if you really looked for signs that she’d been a man (or still was; there was nothing on the box to indicate whether she was a part-time or full-time girl). The first set of exercises dealt with controlling the pitch and timbre of your voice by trying to use only half your vocal cords. Craig tried some of the things the instructor had told him to do, but she warned not to strain your voice my doing too much too fast, so he stopped before it hurt. Meanwhile, he’d opened the second box and it was his crossdressing supplies. The “gaff” was a sturdy white thong panty that came with a photocopied sheet of paper that had a diagram showing how to tuck his testicles up into his abdominal cavity and pull his penis back and then the gaff would hold everything in place. He wanted to try it immediately, so he took off his panties and lay down on the bed. It took him a while to find the spot, but when he got everything tucked away and pulled up the gaff he looked in the mirror and it was much flatter than he’d been able to get on his own. Next in the box was a beige pair of panties with padding to make his hips and buttocks look more feminine. He pulled them on and they were a little snug, but when he had everything situated properly, he thought it looked right. It was hard to tell since he could only look at his rear in profile. Then he got out his waist cincher. It was a thick strip of satiny material that was kind of like a little corset, with a row of eye hooks to close it, and a set of laces to tighten it. He couldn’t figure out whether the laces went in the front and the hooks in the back or the other way around. He needed to go over to his computer room and check the website where he’d bought it for a picture. The laces went in back, and he had to loosen them to get it around his waist, but then fastened all the hooks and then pulled the laces as hard as he could and tied them off behind him in what he hoped was a bow and not a square knot. All that was left in the package was two aerosol cans and two white boxes. The cans were medical adhesive and medical adhesive remover. The boxes each held a silicone breast form, which were bigger than he’d expected 38C to look. They were a sort of lopsided teardrop shape, with a pert little nipple sticking up in the middle. He held one in each hand and they were seriously weighty. If it weren’t for the slightly shiny plastic surface texture, they looked just like the real thing, and it was a little spooky seeing a pair of breasts without a body. He really wanted to know what they looked like on him, but wasn’t sure he wanted to try the adhesive right away, in case the remover didn’t work or something. He tried slipping his breasts into the cups of the yellow camisole he was still wearing, but they kept sliding out if he stood up. But then he remembered the dreaded shelf bra and pulled his white camisole out of the laundry pile and swapped the yellow one for it. He arranged the breast forms in approximately the right place and went to the mirror. He saw a woman with his head standing there in her underwear. The nipples on her full breasts poked at the thin white fabric of her camisole, and he could almost make out the darker areolas. The way her waist flared in and her hips flared out was all woman and very sexy. Craig’s penis (which the woman in the mirror clearly did not have) strained to become erect but was denied by its tight restraint. Cathi struck a few poses at the mirror, then scampered off to change the DVD.

The hostess of “How To Act Like a Woman” was a little better looking than the voice coach, but was probably still also a pretender. She looked to be around forty, a slim brunette wearing a conservative floral print dress and simple open-toed shoes. She was sitting in an antique wing chair. She spoke with a charming Southern accent. “Hello girls, when you’ve finished this program, you’ll know how to carry yourself like a proper lady. We’ll be focusing on movement primarily: starting with how to walk, then we’ll move on to simple gestures and mannerisms. Now before you go any further, you should be looking as feminine as the rest of your life allows you to. Now I know that those who are lucky enough to have been born girls can wear jeans and sneakers and t-shirts and still move like girls, but they don’t need lessons. I want you dressed as feminine as you can, from the inside out. Start with your prettiest lingerie, including a full or half slip. We’re trying to present as modern women, so no petticoats for now. Stockings or pantyhose are a must, even if you’re not at a place where you can keep your legs clean-shaven — we’ll just pretend we can’t see any hair. For the first part of these lessons you should be in a dress or skirt with some fullness and length to it. You’ll need a short, tight skirt later on. Shoes are a necessity. Wear the highest heels you feel comfortable in, but don’t feel the need to go more than three inches — this is a lesson in walking like a lady, not a prostitute. I also want you made up to look your best. If you need assistance learning how to apply makeup, there’s another video in this series that can show you. It’s okay if you don’t look perfect; what’s more important for us now is that you feel its presence on your face as a reminder that you are a woman. For the same reason, wear your favorite perfume to be surrounded by a constant aura of femininity. If you have a wig, wear it. If you don’t, style your hair as best you can. Sometimes a couple of barrettes can do wonders. We will be going over some gestures dealing with long hair later, so if you’ve got a short bob or pixie cut you’ll just have to skip those. And remember to accessorize your outfit, girls! I’ll be showing you how to look natural carrying a purse. We’ll also get into some ways to fidget with jewelry, so have at least one bracelet, ring, necklace, and pair of earrings. If your lifestyle doesn’t let you get away with pierced ears, clip-on earrings are acceptable, but not if the only thing keeping you from doing it is the pain. Expect a little suffering to be beautiful. So if you’re not fully dressed right now, stop this tape. I’ll wait for you.” Craig did as he was told and paused the DVD.

It looked like he was going to have to go shopping for more women’s clothes, but that would mean taking off what he was wearing and turning back into a man. To delay that as long as possible, Cathi put her robe on over her underwear and went down to the kitchen to make a simple dinner of a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup. The feel of the cold tile on her bare feet made her make a note to add a pair of slippers to her shopping list. Cooking with breasts was a new experience; it required a different arm position to stir the soup. It felt very motherly. Kitty had joked about needing an apron but maybe she was right. It couldn’t hurt to add that to the list, too. When dinner was done, Cathi went upstairs and got out the measuring tape, to take her new measurements and checking the web learned that at 41-31-39, she was a women’s size 14 or Large, juniors’ size 15 or extra-large. It was much more complicated than men’s sizes. From ordering the cheerleader stuff, she knew her shoe size was 11. She did some more surfing to learn about makeup, and took some notes. Then it was time to turn back into Craig. Cathi’s breasts went back in their boxes. The padded bun panty came off. The waist cincher was unlaced and removed, and Craig breathed a big sigh of relief. He left the camisole and gaff on and put his male clothes on over them.

It was half past eight by this point so he had to get shopping before the stores closed so he needed to go somewhere that would likely have everything on his list. Even though he didn’t really need high quality things just for practicing womanly ways since no one else would see him in them, he felt that Cathi deserved better than Wal*Mart, so he went to Target. He passed cleaning supplies first, and found some soap that could be used for hand washing delicates. His next destination was the cosmetics department, but he passed the fragrance selection on the way. It took him a while scratching and sniffing and spraying testers in the air, but he eventually settled on a perfume that was a little floral but with a spicy kick to it that he thought would express who he wanted Cathi to be. The most awkward part of buying makeup was trying to pick a color of foundation that matched his skin tone, but there weren’t any other shoppers around, so he went quickly. Once he had a foundation, he got the coordinating powder and concealer, then stayed with the same brand and got a blush that was somewhere in the middle of the color range. He went with black for mascara and eyeliner but brown eyebrow pencil. He got lipstick, liner and gloss in both red and pink because he couldn’t make up his mind, then found the matching shades of nail polish. With eye shadow, he wasn’t sure what color Cathi’s outfit would be, so he got three different little color palettes: one that seemed to work with blues, one with purples, and one in a more natural bronze and tan that should complement anything. With all that makeup, he now needed the right stuff for removing it, so he stayed in the beauty section and got cold cream, foaming facial cleanser, special pre-moistened wipes for removing eye makeup, nail polish remover, an astringent for clearing oils from his skin before applying anything, and a moisturizer for putting oils back into his skin after taking the makeup off. Then he went looking for tools for applying all this stuff. He got several different brushes, a package of triangular foam sponges, some disposable little wands that kind of looked like cotton swabs, a tiny comb for eyebrows, an eyelash curler, and a manicure set. He saw a bottle of clear nail polish that claimed it helped strengthen nails while they were growing, so he got that too. Then he went to the aisle with hair care products and found a couple of different sized barrettes, a headband, a brush that claimed to help add volume, and some styling mousse. On his way out of the beauty department he saw a tabletop mirror that could light up and flip between a normal reflection and a magnified one, and thought that would be a real help. Also, they had some cases and organizers for managing all your beauty supplies, and he saw how much was already in his cart and realized that keeping all these things orderly was a good idea so he got a compartmentalized box with a rack for all the tools, and spaces for all the makeup. At this point, he realized that he wasn’t sure where he was going to put these things when he got home. He didn’t want Cathi putting her makeup on at his desk, because then all these powders might mess up his computer. He supposed that he could set things up on the kitchen table when needed, but that would mean taking it all out and putting it away so he could use his table for eating. What Cathi really needed was her own vanity table that he could set up in the bedroom and leave there. He rolled his cart over to the furniture department to see what they had. They didn’t sell anything that was designed to be a vanity, but he found a simple student desk that would work that wasn’t too expensive. Its medium tone wood-grain finish would go with his bedroom furniture. He got a plain stool for her to sit on, but if that didn’t work he could borrow a kitchen chair. Now he was ready to get her some clothes. The shoe department was closest, so he went there first. He knew he wanted slippers, so he got those first; they were pink and fuzzy and extra-large. Then he wasn’t sure what to get. The instructor said to get the highest heels he could bear but he didn’t know how high that was. He solved the dilemma by getting both a pair of black leather pumps with 2” heels and a pair of black satin sandals with 3.5” wedge heels. But then he saw a gorgeous pair of stretchy brown boots with 4” heels that were almost knee-high and he had to get them. There’s nothing sexier than a woman in boots, except maybe a woman in only boots. Craig wondered why he wanted Cathi to look sexy. He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is she needed those boots. They went in the cart. The lingerie department was next to the shoes. He was uncomfortable shopping there, but he figured his full cart would show that he was an actual shopper, not just some pervert getting off on touching ladies’ frillies. The first section of the intimates department was sleepwear, and even though he didn’t have any on his list, he browsed. Since he’d been sleeping in panties under his nightgown, he was attracted to a red satin babydoll nightie that came with its own panty. He also got the short satin robe that went with it, so Cathi could still show off her legs. Next on his agenda was finding a bra and he quickly got the hang of reading the little tags on the hangers that give the size and in almost no time had picked out six different 38C bras in different colors and styles and fabrics: a lightly lined full-coverage microfiber in a pale orange, a white satin balconette with lace, an unlined pink microfiber in a front-closing racerback, a blue padded plunge bra with pale yellow lace, a dusty plum unlined lace underwire that was nearly see-through, and a heather gray cotton seamless t-shirt bra. For each one, he also found matching panties, even though he wouldn’t need them if he’d be wearing the gaff and bun pant. For two of the bras, he even got daring and went with a thong. He started looking at slips but found that they came in different lengths and he didn’t know how long a skirt he’d be getting, so he skipped them for the time being and crossed to hosiery. Pantyhose came in too many styles and colors, and figuring out the size was like solving a complex math problem; he wasn’t sure if he should use his actual height and weight, or the height and weight of the girl he was pretending to be. He opted to go for an assortment, with several different brands, sizes, and colors. For the sake of variety, he added a pair of black sheer thigh-highs and some white textured tights.

Then he went over to the juniors department to start getting some actual clothes. As he understood it, juniors were younger women, and since Cathi was a cheerleader in college or high school, that would be the right department for her. If she was closer to Craig’s age, she’d shop in the women’s department. One of the things he needed was something with a long, full skirt and saw a dress that might fit the bill. It was a mid-calf length bold turquoise blue cotton v-neck shirtdress with short cap sleeves and a belted waist, with buttons all the way down the front. They had it in the right size, so he put it on the cart. He also found a knit little black dress with spaghetti straps that might meet his other need for a short, tight skirt. But that felt like he found everything he needed too quickly, so he browsed some more. That was a mistake. Looking around he saw some separates that might work better, so he added a tiny red miniskirt that was almost too short, a broomstick-pleated purple skirt that was even longer than the blue dress, and a cute pleated denim skirt because Cathi might want to wear something more casual sometimes. Those skirts would need tops, so he got a raspberry three-quarter sleeve scoop neck t-shirt for the casual look, a nice pink cardigan sweater and tank twinset for the intermediate, and a silky black camisole top to wear with the mini. The cami had the familiar shelf bra, which made him realize that bra straps would show under the spaghetti strap minidress, so Cathi would either have to glue her breasts down and go braless, or he would have to go back over to intimates and find a strapless bra. It didn’t occur to him that he could just put the dress back. He had to go back to intimates to get a slip anyway, so it was an easy decision. He found a black lace padded bra with removable transparent straps without too much difficulty, and once again got the matching panty as well. To pick out a slip, he just held each candidate up against the dress to wear it with and found the best match. He got a white full slip that would work with the blue dress, a long white half slip that would work with the purple skirt, and a shorter black half slip that could go with the black dress or the denim skirt. He checked his list to see what else was needed, and it sent him to housewares in search of an apron. He looked around near table linens and was almost ready to give up when he spotted a complete hostess set that had a tablecloth, placemats, napkins, dish towel, a pot holder, an oven mitt and an apron all with a tan and orange theme with acorns and autumn leaves. He wasn’t sure if it was a Halloween thing or an early Thanksgiving thing, but it would work as a general season thing. Cathi needed a purse, so he went to the accessories section. Unfortunately, he had to pass activewear on the way, and he stopped and had a thought that if Cathi was going to try some actual cheering at the party, maybe she’d need some exercise clothes to practice in, rather than wearing her actual uniform all the time. He got a bra top, a tank, a pair of shorts, and some soft long yoga pants, all in a dark pink. He started wondering if he ought to get her some socks, but decided he could let her borrow his. A tube sock is a tube sock, isn’t it? He proceeded on to accessories, and got a medium-size black leather bag with a shoulder strap. There was a big buckle on the outer pocket that really drew his eye. The black would match the black pumps and sandals, but it didn’t quite work with his favorite brown boots, so he added a large soft brown slouch bag that seemed more fun and simple. The jewelry department was next to accessories. He couldn’t find any clip-on earrings, but he already had a pair at home, so he wasn’t too concerned. He remembered that they were gold, so the rest of Cathi’s jewelry would also be gold. He got a set of bangle bracelets that looked like they might fit over his hand, but also a thin chain bracelet in case they didn’t. He got one necklace that was simply three rows of gold chains, and one that had crystal beads every so often and a larger crystal pendant. He was supposed to get a ring, but he wasn’t sure any of the ones would fit. He got the largest he could find, a size 10 gold band with a sparkly pink stone, and hoped it would fit over his little finger. He was too nervous to try. Cathi might want to be able to know what time it was, so he got her an inexpensive watch with a thin gold mesh band. He was ready to check out, so he rolled his cart over to a cashier and started emptying his cart. It looked like a lot more when he saw it all together. He grabbed some fashion magazines from the rack by the checkout and added them to the pile, in the hope that there would be useful hair or makeup tips inside. He handed the cashier his credit card and tried not to notice the total. What was he going to do with all this stuff next month after the party, when he didn’t need to be Cathi anymore? He’d worry about that later. Maybe he’d just donate all the clothes to Goodwill and help some poor girl have a happy Christmas.

It took three trips to get all the shopping bags into his townhouse. Part of him really wanted to try everything on right away, but practically he knew that it was too late and he’d be better off doing it the following day. What he did do was get all of Cathi’s things put away in her closet. His bedroom was equipped with “his and hers” walk-in closets, and until this point he’d only been using the larger of the two, which technically was “hers.” So ironically, he put his female wardrobe away in “his” closet. He hung up the tops, skirts and dresses, and eventually found the ribbons that made hanging his little black dress easier. The shoes just went lined up on the floor. He started hanging up bras, but it just looked wrong; lingerie belongs in a drawer. He went over to his bureau and cleared out a drawer for Cathi’s things. He’d just have to live with keeping his white socks and black socks in the same drawer for a while. He assembled the vanity desk and set it against the far wall of his bedroom, and set the makeup organizer and mirror on top, making sure there was a place to plug the mirror in. He removed all the makeup from their various packaging and arranged them in the organizer, along with all the tools. The larger hair accessories went in the drawer of the vanity. When he took the packaging off the pieces of jewelry, he realized that he hadn’t bought some kind of jewelry box to put it all in. He stuck them in the drawer until he could find a better solution. While he was putting them away, he did try on his pinky ring and a bangle bracelet to make sure that they’d fit, which they did.

Sitting there wearing a couple pieces of jewelry really made him want to try more. He quickly stripped down to just his gaff and dashed to the lingerie drawer. Since he was in a hurry, he opted to go with the front-closing bra. The straps needed to be adjusted a little to get the cups where he thought they belonged, and then put the breast forms into them. The bra held the breasts in a much more natural looking position than the shelf bra had. Cathi pulled on the panties that matched her bra, and opened a package of sheer nude pantyhose. However, since she was rushing and inexperienced at wearing nylons, she put her feet in the bottom as though they were socks, then tried to pull them up as though they were pants and they tore badly. She threw them away, and opened a package of suntan control top hose. Rather than ruin another pair right away, she put on her new slippers and her old robe and went down the hall to the computer room and started searching for instructions on how to put on pantyhose. Most girls probably get shown how by their mothers when they’re growing up, but Craig’s mother probably wouldn’t have appreciated a phone call in the middle of the night asking for hosiery techniques. It turns out it wasn’t that complicated; she just had to go slower and stretch the material as she went. She also took her ring off since they warned that it could snag. Going back to the bedroom, she checked the mirror. Even without the cincher and bun pant, she had a somewhat feminine figure as the control top did pull her waist in and lift her rear a little. She stepped into her long half slip and pulled it up, using her pantyhose to show her where her female waistline would be. She pulled on her raspberry scoopneck top and the act of adjusting her bra straps so they wouldn’t peek out felt very natural. The neckline gave just a hint of a shadow implying cleavage that was extremely exciting. She stepped into her purple broomstick skirt and pulled it up into place. Taking her new boots from the closet, she went and sat on the bed to put them on. At first, she was mortified. She pointed her left toe and slipped it into a boot but it seemed like they wouldn’t fit. But before bursting into tears, she carefully examined the boot and found some tissue paper wadded into the toe. With that out of the way it fit perfectly! It tightly hugged her calf and made her foot look very sexy. She stood up and looked in the mirror. The high heels made her rear end stick out and gave her even more of a girlish figure. But it was the figure of a girl with a man’s head.

After a couple of stumbles, she figured out how to step from her toes instead of her heels and went over to the vanity. She squeezed her hand through the rest of her bangles and put on her long necklace, settling the pendant between her breasts. As she used her brush to fluff up her hair, the bangles chimed and she felt very feminine. She pulled a headband over her forehead and tucked it behind her ears. She clipped on her earrings and they pinched her earlobes, but it was supposed to be worth it. She sprayed perfume on her throat, as she wasn’t exactly sure where it’s supposed to go. She knew she’d do a lousy job the first time, so didn’t put on all her makeup. Instead she decided to just go with some red lipstick. She’d seen it done in movies and things, and figured that it wasn’t much different to apply than lip balm. She remembered to blot with a tissue and went to the mirror again. This time the person in the mirror was definitely female. She wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests, but she was a woman. Her glasses were kind of butch, but the contacts should be on the way.

There was time before she’d have to go to bed, so she fired up the DVD and continued with the first movement lesson. It was all about sitting and standing, so she got the chair from her office and learned about keeping her knees together, and how to cross her legs, and how to hold her skirt when sitting down, and how to hold her arms when standing to look more feminine. It was repetitive and exhausting, but she kept at it until it felt like second nature. When exhaustion set it, she undressed and put on her new babydoll nightgown, used her facial cleanser to get the lipstick off, and moisturized her face. Having the gaff off for the first time and being surrounded by the smell of her perfume and the silky feel of her nightie gave her an urgent erection. She kicked off her bottoms and masturbated into one of Craig’s socks, holding her penis in one hand while fondling her nipple with the other. She closed her eyes and imagined having her own large natural breasts and had an explosive orgasm. She wiped herself off and put a pad in her panties before putting them back on, just in case.

Chapter 5: Girl Talk

After his shower the next day, Craig noticed that his nipples weren’t sore any more, so he didn’t need to wear a camisole. He even wore his regular underwear instead of another pair of panties. It was strange - even though he’d only worn women’s clothes for three days, he felt uncomfortable back in his boxer briefs. It wasn’t that his male underwear was itchy or causing an irritation; it just didn’t seem right anymore. It made it a little difficult for him to concentrate on his work; he even was making some simple math errors and had to run his calculations three times. He might have to switch to lingerie again just to get his head in gear. This whole project was really messing him up, and he’d barely gotten started. He had three and half more weeks to go. When he got home in the evening, he saw that his beginning cheerleader video had arrived, but since he didn’t have his uniform yet he set it aside. He put “How to Talk Like a Woman” into the DVD player and turned it on to play while he dressed. He changed out of his boy clothes into gaff, bun panty, cincher, plunge bra with the breast forms arranged so his chest flesh was pushed up to simulate cleavage, sheer toe taupe pantyhose, the full slip, blue dress, and sandals. Cathi then sat at her vanity and did her makeup according to directions printed from a website, pausing every so often to repeat back what the speech instructor was saying. When her face was done, she cleaned everything off and did it all over again, then repeated the process a third time, which fixed both the mistakes from the first time and the bits of overcorrection from the second time. A fourth try got everything about as good as it was going to get, so she stopped and put on her jewelry, noticing that it was going to be very boring having such little variety that she’d have to wear the same pair of earrings for a month. She still couldn’t get her hair very feminine, but she faked it with a barrette on each side. She spritzed some perfume and was done. The voice lessons seemed to be going well, so she stuck with them instead of switching to learning how to walk. She paused the video and went down to make something to eat. She started putting her new tablecloth out and saw that it would need ironing, so she folded it back up and went with placemats instead. She tied on the matching apron and it increased the feminine feeling tenfold. The waist cincher would keep her from eating too much, so she just made a light meal, mixing up some herbed rice and steaming frozen pea pods while George Foreman grilled half a salmon filet. The aroma attracted Craig’s roommate’s attention. Nitro came running into the kitchen and stopped, confused for a moment by Cathi’s perfume but eventually she recognized her human slave and slinked in to rub up against a leg and give a few commanding meows.

“I know what you want.” Cathi bent at the knees and reached down to scratch her between the ears. “Mama will give you a treat, but it’s got to cook first, Baby. We don’t want your widdle tummy getting sick. Sometimes there’s icky little wormies in fish, and they’re not good for kitties to eat, even if you are a cute little schnookums!” There was something about baby-talking at the cat after listening to the training video that made Cathi realize that she’d finally gotten the pitch of her voice in the right place! She tried a few sentences without the excessive modulation of baby talk. “This is a test. My name is Cathi. I want to be a cheerleader. I am a girl.” It still sounded female. “You are getting an extra good treat, Sweetypie. You just helped Mommy with her project, oh yes you did! Who’s a smart kitty? Actually, I think I’ll call the other smart Kitty and get an outside opinion after dinner.” When the salmon was grilled, Cathi flaked off two fork loads onto a saucer and set it down on the floor by Nitro’s regular cat food. After making a plate for herself, she untied her apron and sat at the table to eat her dinner, remembering her lessons in sitting, smoothing her skirt, keeping her knees together, and maintaining proper posture. She finished, cleaned up, and went upstairs. Climbing stairs in heels was easier than coming down them. She retrieved Craig’s cell phone and called Kitty.

“Hey, Cathi. I was wondering when you were going to call.”

“Um, yeah. It’s me. I was hoping I could get an opinion. I’m working on this speech course and was wondering if you could listen and tell me how I sound.”

“You sound ok so far, but you’ll have to talk some more for me to judge. Let me think. What would Cathi the cheerleader want to call her girlfriend to talk about? I’ve got it. Is there a cute guy you’ve got a crush on? Tell me about him.”

“Well, there is a person I’m interested in, but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be. I was told to keep it light and casual, but I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever dated one person at a time before; I don’t know how to be only slightly committed to something, which also sort of explains why right now I’m sitting here at my bedroom vanity table touching up my lipstick after dinner.”

“You’re wearing lipstick - it’s not just Cathi’s voice that you’re working on?”

“Oh, that’s right! I didn’t tell you. This video that’s supposed to teach me how to act more ladylike says I’ll get more out of it if I’m completely immersed in femininity. So I had to go out and buy a bunch of stuff to help me experience being a girl. And now I’m sitting here in front of my makeup mirror in my pretty blue dress with my nylon-covered legs daintily crossed. I’m not quite satisfied with my hair, but I’m making do for now by messing it up and putting a couple barrettes in it to move the part. It’s a shame I have to wait to get my extensions, but that would spoil the surprise at the party, and it might violate the office dress code. I could get a wig, but it might fall off during cheering practice, and that’s the time I need to feel the girliest.”

“I could show you some ideas for styling your hair if you want. I’ve got shorter hair than you do, and I’m still a girl. Besides, I’m curious to see what you’d look like all dressed up.”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to be seen by anyone yet. But when I am, I’ll let you know.”

“How did you figure out your sizes?”

“I used a measuring tape and some guidelines from a website, but it’s complicated. Sometimes it’s 14, sometimes it’s 15, sometimes it’s large, and sometimes it’s extra large. Men’s sizes seem to be much more consistent. How do you ever know out what size to get?”

“You’ll find that most women won’t buy a piece of clothing without trying it on first. That’s why the fitting rooms are always crowded. Anyway, that was a great way to change the subject there. You were supposed to be telling me about this guy you like.”

“Yeah, I like somebody. We only had one date, if you can even call it that, but I just can’t seem to stop imagining some kind of future as boyfriend and girlfriend or even more, but I’m not supposed to be thinking about stuff like that. I have to just let go and allow today to be today without dreaming or planning for any kind of a tomorrow, and that’s not something I’m very good at. But I’m trying, really.” Cathi sniffled into the phone.

“Are you ok? It almost sounds like you’re crying.”

“I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. This project is ballooning into so much more than I expected.”

“On the plus side, even getting emotional you haven’t slipped. You still sound like the cute girl you are. Since your love life was giving you trouble, we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“Thanks.”

“We’ll talk about my love life instead. I need some advice. I met this great guy, but I think I might have scared him a little.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t want things to get too serious too fast — I’ve done that before and gotten badly burned. So after I spent the night with him I acted like it was just physical and didn’t mean anything emotionally, and made sure he knew it. But now I’m not sure that was the right approach. I think I might have blown my chance at something real.”

“Something real can be nice, when it’s the right person.”

“Exactly! I think that’s what’s holding me back. I’ve picked so many wrong people before. This guy might be another one of those.”

“Was there something in particular about him that makes you think he’s not worth pursuing as other than a playmate? Or are you just making excuses?”

“For one, I think he might be a Republican.”

“There’s no rule that says couples have to agree politically. My Republican father’s been married longer to my Democrat stepmother than he was to my Republican mother. Even if your guy were on the other side, what would be so bad about that?”

“Are you serious? They’re anti-choice, anti-gay, puppets of the rich that got us into a war on a bunch of fake reasons. They’re Evil!”

“That sounds more like a reason to dislike the politicians than the guy who voted for them. It could be that he’s not that kind of Republican. Maybe he’s the kind that remembers when the party stood for small government, fiscal responsibility, and strong national defense, and feels that government should not be in the business of legislating morality. If you think about it, possibly he’s even given you every reason to believe he isn’t at all anti-gay.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe he’s done something to show a willingness to get in touch with his feminine side, in a way that an uptight homophobe stuck on traditional ideas of gender roles would never do. But what do I know? I’m just a girl, and I haven’t even met the guy.”

When Kitty finally understood, she giggled uncontrollably for a while. “Ok. You may have a point there. So, if I think I’ve got some kind of chemistry with this guy, what would I do to let him know I’m interested?”

“Well, you said that you tried to leave him with the impression that you weren’t interested in anything other than an occasional good time, but if that’s not what you want it seems like you’ll have to tell him somehow. Maybe you could ask him out on a real date.”

“A real date? I’m not sure what that means anymore. Let’s see… What do squares do for fun these days?”

“Squares?”

“Well, I’ve sort of taken him into my world to a degree, so it would only be fair if a second date were to take place in his. Think he’d like dinner at Fitzmichael’s Pub? They’re whitebread without being a Soulless Corporate Chain, so I wouldn’t feel morally compromised.”

“I’m just guessing from what you’ve said about him, but I’d say that sounds like the kind of thing he’d agree to. When were you thinking of having this date?”

“I know they say you’re not supposed to ask for a date only two days in advance, but Friday would work the best for me. I don’t have to close the shop, so I could be free for dinner at 7:30. Think that would be acceptable?”

“I’m sure he’d like that!”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later, then. Bye!”

As she closed the phone, Cathi couldn’t decide if she was smiling because her speaking had been consistently feminine, or if Craig was smiling because he had a date, and things weren’t as confusing with Kitty as they had been when he was trying to play aloof. Cathi cleaned off her makeup and moisturized her face, put on her nightie and went to bed early. Craig needed to touch himself for a few minutes thinking about Kitty, and noticed that it got more intense if he played with Cathi’s nipples while he did so.

Chapter 6: Learning Pains

The next day, Craig’s mind kept wandering as he was working; this was a new experience for him — usually he’d get caught up in the elegance of the numbers and could stay narrowly focused. Instead, Cathi kept nagging at the back of his brain, imagining different looks, figuring out what she wanted to wear that evening, replaying her latest lessons in femininity, and planning out the next steps of the project. He thought to appease Cathi’s urges by going shopping during his lunch break, to look for some more earrings so she could have a little variety in her jewelry box. It was somewhat disappointing. Most of the fashionable earrings were made for pierced ears, and he needed to find clip-ons. The first store he looked in seemed to only carry the sort of clip earrings a little old lady would wear. He took a risk and asked a salesgirl if they had anything less dowdy, as he wanted to get his girlfriend a gift, but she didn’t have pierced ears. (He imagined that this hypothetical girlfriend probably was a hemophiliac, but the girl never asked him why.) She showed him that one of the spinning racks of fashion jewelry contained hypoallergenic earrings, some of which had clips. To Craig’s dismay, the rack also had coordinating pieces, so he ended up purchasing not only three new pairs of earrings, but two of them had matching necklaces available and the third had two different necklaces and a bracelet. To make matters worse on his way out of the jewelry department his eye was drawn to this cute pin that Cathi would absolutely love so he bought that, too. This was getting seriously out of hand. When Craig went back to work, he was a little more focused, but he was somewhat angry at himself for his failure to control Cathi’s spending habits. He channeled that energy into working through the year-end projection numbers, and sent them off to Estelle early.

At home that evening, he decided that the only way to justify all that spending would be if Cathi became the best cheerleader possible and won one of the cash prizes at the party. So after a light dinner, he changed into Cathi’s exercise gear with the gaff under her shorts and breast forms in her bra top and, since her cheer shoes hadn’t arrived yet, wore a pair of Craig’s sneakers and white athletic socks. Cathi cleared some floor space in the living room and popped in the “Cheerleading for Beginners” DVD. It started out with a lot of stretching, some of which were rather uncomfortable for the parts Cathi wasn’t supposed to have. Then came some general aerobic calisthenics, and at one point she had to pause the video because her left breast went flying out and she was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. She had three options at this point: put it back in and hope it didn’t fall out again, or go upstairs and get the special adhesive and glue it back in place while praying that the adhesive remover worked like it was supposed to and Craig didn’t have to go into work the next day with boobs, or she could just take the other one out and finish the workout flat-chested, which was the option she chose to do. It was strange, trying to feel like Cathi without breasts and not merely Craig in a bra, but she finished the workout portion of the warmup, and started into the actual cheering moves. It started with some kicks and jumps, and Cathi could tell that she needed a lot of practice to get flexible enough. The next part got into some more complicated acrobatics, and she made it through a very sloppy cartwheel before she had to stop for the day. She was going to have to repeat this routine daily to get good enough by the date of the party.

The workout also left her sweatier that she felt a girl ought to be, so she took a nice hot shower, and changed into her blue nightgown and robe and slipped on her slippers. If she really was going to do the cheering exercises again every day, she’d need to clean her sweaty clothes. She looked over at the hamper and decided that maybe it was time to do a load of delicates anyway, and threw a load in the wash. Perhaps it might be a good idea to invest in some more workout clothes so she wouldn’t have to do laundry daily. She wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep, so she went to her computer room and ran through some more speech lessons. She thought she had pitch and timbre down, and had moved on to learning the differences in modulations between how a female voice speaks a sentence and how a male does. It was fascinating, and not something Craig had ever really thought about.

Friday morning, Craig woke up aching all over. Every muscle was sore. He took an extra hot shower just so he’d be able to move, as well as to do all the scrubbing he had been taught. The hot water felt so good that he stayed under it a little too long, and all the scrubbing left his skin feeling overly sensitive. It took him extra long to apply the moisturizing lotion because it hurt to bend over. He wore his pink camisole and its matching panties under his clothes, to avoid any extra irritation. He’d be meeting Kitty for dinner that evening, but he’d have time to come home and change if he was too nervous to meet her in lingerie. A call from his optometrist in the afternoon took away that option when they said his contact lenses had come in and told him they could see him at 5:45 for a fitting. He was nervous for the rest of the day, but managed to do some decent work, double-checking a spreadsheet for the monthly profitability report. He got so caught up in it, he only realized it was 5:00 when he heard people nearby getting ready to go home.

He was early at the eye doctor, but didn’t have to wait long. One of the assistants took him into a booth with a mirror and a sink and showed him how to use the cleaning solution, and how to store his lenses, making sure to never have both cases open so that he didn’t switch the left and right lens. Then it was time to put them in. It was a weird pose holding his eyelid open with one hand while poking himself in the eye with the other. When the lens touched his eye it felt weird, but not as irritating as he’d imagined it would be. Once he had the right lens in, the tech made him go through the routine again with the left lens. With both in, he took a look in the mirror, and it was very strange seeing himself with blue eyes. Then the tech taught him how to take his lenses out, which was an even weirder feeling of almost pinching his eyeball, first the right lens, cleaning it and putting it in the case and closing it, then removing the left lens, cleaning it and putting it in the case. After a couple of blinks, he had Craig put them in again, leaving them in this time. Then the doctor came by and examined his eyes with a magnifying scope thing to check the fit, and then had him read an eye chart to make sure his vision was corrected properly. The doctor told him to wear the lenses for only a couple hours the first day, but keep them in longer each day, adding one to three hours a day, whatever was comfortable for him. He shouldn’t try to go longer than fourteen hours. If everything worked out ok with the trial pair, they’d order a full set. They recommended that he get a pair of regular sunglasses to wear during the daytime to reduce eye strain. The amount of light coming into his eyes would be different than with his glasses. He didn’t quite have enough time to go home, but he did have enough to hit up a drugstore. It wasn’t until he was in line to pay for them that he realized that he’d selected a pair of women’s sunglasses, with large round lenses in a tortoiseshell frame.

He showed up at Fitzmichael’s Pub at 7:15. He told the hostess he was meeting his date there but he was early, and she suggested he wait in the bar. When he walked into the bar room, he saw that someone seated at the far end had shocking pink hair, although he could only see the back of her head. Feeling bold, he snuck up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. She spun around on her chair and grabbed him around the waist. “What would you have done if it wasn’t me?”

“I don’t know, probably gotten a drink thrown in my face, or slapped, or who knows, maybe I would have hit it off with her and we’d have ended up with a funny story to tell our grandchildren about how we met. But you’re fairly original, so the odds were in my favor.”

“You’re in a good mood tonight — I like it! Something looks different about you… What is it?”

“Is it my Oh-So-Stylish ‘business casual’ outfit?”

“No that’s not it — did you shave your moustache or something?”

“I never had a moustache, which is good news for Cathi. I had to come here from work, so I might have a little bit of five-o’-clock shadow, but I can usually go a couple days between shaves without looking scruffy. That’s not it.” He blinked slowly, to give her a clue.

“Oh! You’ve got Cathi’s blue eyes! I’m sure they’ll help her look sweet and innocent.” Kitty gave him a kiss. “Just let me finish my cocktail — an alley cat, naturally — and we can go get a table.” She threw back the inch or so left in her glass and swallowed it in one gulp, and then stood up.

Craig got his first good look at her outfit. She was wearing a pink camisole top very similar to the one that was lurking under his shirt only hers was out in the open, a simple black pencil skirt, and fairly-normal looking black pumps over suntan hose. It was as though she’d put in an effort to fit into his world. Her hair was still wild, but her makeup was more toned down than the last time he saw her. “You look very pretty tonight, but you didn’t have to water down your look for me. I appreciate the gesture, though.” They got the hostess to show them to a table. “I am glad you didn’t go too far and cover your spots with a wig. I’m not your grandmother; you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not. I’m drawn to the actual you, not some fake surface.”

By showing that he paid attention, he remembered, and he actually understood her, Craig was scoring a lot of points. But Kitty wasn’t going to let him know that, even though she couldn’t help but smile. “Drawn to me? Where are you from — the 1940’s?” Although she’d never use such a corny phrase she couldn’t help but be drawn to him herself. But then the waitress came to take their order and fortunately interrupted that train of thought. She ordered a bacon cheeseburger (She liked to piss off her mother by ordering trayf, even when she wasn’t present, just in case the special sense she always claimed to have really did exist), curly fries, and an iced tea, and he got a barbecued chicken sandwich with steak fries and a light beer.

Their dinner conversation was pleasant. Craig asked all about how Kitty got into cosmetology in the first place, and she told him all about her aunt Sophie, who used to pay her five dollars when she was little to go along with her to the beauty parlor and keep an eye on the hairdresser. She was paranoid that something was going to happen to her while she was being shampooed. All that time spent watching the women working started her thinking “I could do that,” which eventually shifted to “I want to do that.” She eventually got an after-school job sweeping up at the salon. As a teenager she was always the first one of her friends to try out a new look, and the one the others went to when they wanted a change. But it was still just a hobby of sorts for her. When she went to college, she ended up making so much money on the side giving makeovers to rebellious retro-punks and goth kids that she dropped out and enrolled in a trade school to study cosmetology and art. She worked for someone else for a while, but after a couple of years got together with her partners and they opened their own place.

She asked how he got into accounting, and his story wasn’t nearly as interesting. He was going to study business, but in college he took an accounting class and discovered that he had a real aptitude for it, so he took a few more classes and liked and switched majors, then landed a decent job out of college and stayed with them. Sometimes he’d thought about getting licensed and going out on his own as a CPA, but job security was just too comfortable. He really didn’t mind having someone else telling him what to do. That comment earned him a mischievous grin from Kitty. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Now how well have you been following your lessons? Have you got Cathi’s emergency overnight bag in your car?”

Craig did his best to look ashamed. “No, actually. Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, I would have asked you to follow me home, but since you’re not prepared…” She shook her head disapprovingly.

He touched her hand and his face took a suddenly serious tone. “Please don’t think I’m rejecting you. I do like you very much, and I am interested in trying to take this further, but I’m in serious pain right now so I’d have to turn down that offer anyway. I just started a new exercise regimen yesterday and overdid it, and now I’m sore everywhere.”

“Trying to get in better shape for our date? I’m flattered, but I don’t need some buff stud. I like your shape the way it is.” She rolled her hand over and held his, and sensed a warm feeling moving through her that brought out a smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her, as a similar feeling moved him. Returning to his side of the table, he said, “Thanks. That’s a sweet thought, but Cathi needs to be able to perform a cheer routine at the party, and I foolishly decided she should start her lessons the day before my big date. I’m really sorry.”

She licked her lips and shifted her position so as to give him a better look down her cleavage. “You should be. I’ll just have to go home alone. I think I’ll slip into a nice, warm, wet bubble bath, and let the soothing waters gently caress every inch of my soft, naked body and probe deeply into every crevice. You’d just better make it up to me big time, Mister!”

Craig had to shift around in his seat as his little friend was trying to stand up, despite his having tucked himself back in his panties out of habit. “I will be kicking myself over this once I can move without wincing, and if these flexibility exercises do what they’re supposed to, kicking myself should be easy, as well as other advantages of improved flexibility. Since you brought it up, a hot bath seems like a good idea. I think that’s what I’ll do when I get home, besides miss you.”

“Aww. That sentiment almost makes up for your blunder. I’ll give Cathi another homework assignment, then. On your way home tonight, make a couple of stops. First, go to a liquor store and get a bottle of White Zinfandel. Then, go to a drugstore. Find the trashiest romance novel they have in their book section. Then go to their bath section, and either get a gift set or individual products in the same line with a foaming bath oil, a body bar or bath gel, and an after-bath lotion, all in the most feminine fragrance you can find. And finally, look around the store and see if you can get a scented candle, one that won’t compete with the bath oil, like if the bath is lavender get a vanilla candle. When you get home, Cathi should set all that up in the bathroom. Start by taking a quick shower using the new bath gel, making sure to clean out all the little nooks and crannies. A girl doesn’t like to think about soaking in dirty water. Fill the bath with hot, bubbly water, pour a glass of wine, and put the candle on the counter in front of the mirror and light it. Cathi should lie in her bath, sipping wine and reading her book, until the water gets too cold. Make sure she’s had enough wine so that if her book inspires her, she shouldn’t feel inhibited about running her hands over herself when her heroine is touched, perhaps even allowing a curious finger to explore those nooks and crannies.”

Craig was surprised that the idea was making him a little turned on. “Okay, I can do that.” Craig paid the check and walked Kitty to her car, holding her hand like a schoolboy in love. They kissed goodbye, and her tongue quickly found its way into his mouth.

As he was walking away she called out, “Tell Cathi to call me this weekend when she finishes her book. I want all the juicy details.”

Chapter 7: Pampering

Craig did as he was told and did some shopping before he went home. The bottle of wine was easy to get, but it took him much longer making his selections at the drugstore. He ended up finding a bath set that smelled of jasmine, and he sniffed a few candles until he found one with a sandalwood scent that he thought would complement it. The toughest part of his mission was browsing the rack of books to pick a romance novel. Everything he’d ever heard about them made him think they were all vapid and pointless, but since they were very popular among actual women it would probably be a good way to help Cathi find her character. He chose one that had a picture on the cover of a woman in a torn dress being carried off by a bare-chested pirate, in the hope that there might be some compelling action.

Craig didn’t want to take any more painful trips up the stairs than necessary, so when he got home he gave Nitro her dinner early, and fetched a wine glass and corkscrew from the kitchen, then went up and brought everything into the bathroom, and opened the wine. In the bedroom, he stripped and put on Cathi’s bathrobe and tried to get into the right mindset for the evening of feminine indulgence. Craig had been through so many strange and unusual experiences lately that taking a shower before getting in the bathtub didn’t seem odd at all, but Cathi had a half a glass of wine before getting in, just in case. It was a good thing she took that moment, because she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror standing there with her wine glass and saw her blue eyes — she’d left her lenses in and forgotten about them. She found the bag from the optometrist with the solution and and case for the contacts, and made sure her hands were clean. It took a couple of tries to pluck the first lens, but after that it was easy. She held it in the palm of her hand and rinsed it with the solution, and then dropped it in the case and poured some more on top of it, then repeated the process with the other eye. She took another sip of wine and slipped out of her robe and into the shower. The new jasmine bath gel did smell very pretty, and it helped her feel feminine, even as she was washing her boy parts. The hot water felt very good on her sore muscles. She thought about Kitty’s instructions to get into every crevice so as not to end up soaking in dirty water, and debated with herself for a moment before soaping up a finger and inserting it into her dirtiest crevice. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant sensation. She repeated it a couple more times, just to make sure everything down there was clean, and then took some time to figure out how to stand in order to rinse out the soap.

Cathi came out of the shower and toweled off then put her bathrobe back on and took another sip of her wine. She pulled out the curtain, magically transforming her shower into a bathtub, pulled the stopper and started filling the tub with hot water. She’d never used foaming bath oil before and so had no idea how much to use and needed to put Craig’s glasses on in order to read the tiny instructions on the back of the bottle. She poured a few drops in and felt the heat coming off the water. She turned the knob to colder water and had some more wine. The foamy tub was starting to make the room smell pretty, so she decided it was time to light the candle. It was in a jar, so she took the lid off and realized she’d forgotten to get a box of matches from the kitchen, so she had to tippy-toe down there and get some. When she’d finished lighting the candle, the tub was full and it was ready for her. She refilled her glass at set it on the floor beside the tub with her cheap paperback, and put the bottle with them in case her glass ran empty. Craig usually preferred dry wines, but Cathi was having fun sipping this fruity sweet stuff.

She took off her robe and hung it on a hook, then stepped over to the tub and gingerly stuck a toe in the water. It was a little too hot, but not scalding, so she gradually lowered herself in as she acclimated to the temperature. Once she was lying out submerged and covered in bubbles, it was just warm, soothing Heaven. The realtor had tried to convince Craig that a large bathtub was one of the place’s best features, but he’d never used it. Cathi just stretched out luxuriating and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the aromas and feeling the oil in the water softening her skin. Sitting up a little, she took another drink and then spent a few seconds trying to figure out the logistics of reading in the bath without getting your book wet. She figured out that the first thing she needed to do was dry her hand off on the bathmat, but only realized when it came time to turn a page that she needed two dry hands. She settled on holding her book in her right hand and her glass in her left, and would set the glass down at the end of a page.

The story started slowly. A young girl of nineteen named Emma Proudhurst was living in London in 1602, her father was a doctor working for the crown in a colony in the Caribbean which was no life for a girl, so she had to stay with her aunt and uncle. His letters stopped coming for her, and she feared something had happened. So she tried to get her uncle to buy her a ticket on a ship headed to the colonies, but he refused. She gathered her meager belongings (which seemed to consist mostly of lacy articles of clothing) and snuck aboard a ship, prying open a large crate and hiding in it (because ships carry empty crates around all the time), surviving on the bread, cheese and jug of water she’d brought with her. But then somewhere in the South Seas, the ship was attacked by pirates (surely after their valuable cargo of empty crates) and poor Emma feared her life was in jeopardy. When the pirates were ransacking the ship, they opened her crate and she came spilling out (and somehow her blouse became unlaced). The notorious scalawag Capt. Caleb Muldoon claimed her as his share of the treasure, and threw her over his shoulder, locking her up in the (surprisingly large) closet in his (also surprisingly large) cabin. He’d let her out every so often to bring her food, or if he wanted her to sew a button for him or something, or to try to paw at her and steal kisses. For a nasty pirate, he was a fairly incompetent rapist.

The book was also interesting in its complete disregard for historical accuracy. It didn’t seem like the author, whose name was given on the cover as Annabelle Wainwright but that seemed just as made-up as her characters, hadn’t done any research before writing this, short of maybe seeing a movie or two about pirates. She’d put a British colony on an island that in reality belonged to the Dutch, the trip from England took far too little time and the trip to Bermuda took far too long, she had a great big sailing ship stop on a dime and turn around in the middle of a fight, and another sailing ship that outran a cannonball. Emma not only had silky-smooth hairless legs despite being locked up without a chance to shave, but the description of the lingerie she was frequently stripped down to was of more modern undergarments than she should have been wearing. Needless to say, absolutely no mention was made of how she was dealing with her feminine hygiene needs.

But what it lacked in setting, it made up for in characterization. Despite herself, Cathi found Emma very easy to relate to, and the emotional cycle she went through felt very real. And Capt. Caleb was a bad boy with a heart of gold, and Cathi could easily see what would attract Emma to him. And after she was able to not only diagnose the mysterious sickness that threatened the crew but also steer them toward the rare fruits which would cure it and the captain expressed his gratitude to her and they finally consummated their relationship, it was an extremely well-written and sexy scene. It got her so hot that Cathi had to set her book down and close her eyes, imagining that it was her heaving bosom that was aching for his touch, as her left hand strayed to make little circles around her nipple. She pretended that it was the gates of her maidenhood that were quivering in anticipation in the presence of his manliness, and bit her lower lip but couldn’t stop her right hand from reaching around behind her to find the portal that was still slick with soap. She bounced on her middle finger until the erection that she hadn’t even noticed she had spent its load. Then she was reminded about Kitty’s warning about dirty water, and didn’t want to stay in a tub with that stuff floating on the surface. She splashed it away so she wouldn’t get any on her, and stood up and pulled the plug. She managed to get out of the tub without dripping on her book too much, and blotted herself dry with the towel before applying her after-bath lotion. While putting the lotion on her legs, she realized how chipped the polish on her toes was getting. She put her robe back on then set her book, bottle and glass on the counter, blew out the candle and put the lid on its jar.

Cathi couldn’t make up her mind what to wear. She was so relaxed from her bath and she didn’t want to spoil it by getting all dressed up, but she wasn’t quite ready for bed. She opted to put on her seamless t-shirt bra and its matching panties, with a pad for good measure, and then wore her soft yoga pants and the tank top that went with them. She left her shoes off for the time being, since she’d be working on her feet. She sat at her vanity and found the little foam pedicure things to stick between her toes, and then used cotton balls and nail polish remover to clean all the pink off. She wanted to let them air out a little before getting a new color, so she went and got her wine glass.

She chose her red polish just to see what a darker color would look like, and realized she didn’t really know how to apply nail polish. After some web surfing over in the computer room, she felt more confident. She’d even watched a video. It also got her thinking that Craig didn’t have to be anywhere until Monday, so she decided to paint her fingernails too, just for the weekend. The fingernail techniques were more complicated, but she got the gist. It did say there was a lot of waiting involved, to take the time between coats to let it all dry, so she turned on the DVD and did more voice lessons. After messing up several toes and a couple of fingers severely enough to need to strip it all off and start over, it took about an hour and a half for her to end up with twenty shiny red nails. She changed into her red babydoll nightie and did a little reading in bed until she was too sleepy to continue.

Chapter 8: All-day Cathi

Saturday morning, Cathi woke up with a monster headache. She went into the bathroom and as she sat there relieving herself, she saw the third of a bottle of wine on the counter and realized where her pain had come from. She swallowed a handful of aspirin on her way out. Her hands looked really sexy with candy apple red nails, but it wasn’t much comfort. She put on her robe and slippers and went down to get some breakfast for both her and Nitro. After some coffee, shredded wheat, and grapefruit juice, she was feeling a little better. She went into the living room and sat on the loveseat, tucking her legs under her, and watched some news. Nitro came over and sat next to her for some attention, and a few scratches behind her ears got her to make the odd noise she used as a purr. “Mama’s sorry she’s been neglecting you, Sweetie. I’ve just been too mixed up in other projects, but today will be just you and me, spending some quality time. Okay, Baby?” Nitro made a little sound and then rolled over to get some skritches on her tummy. Cathi loitered in the living room for longer than usual, but her kitty was being so much friendlier than usual that she just couldn’t walk away from such a cute little cuddlemuffin. Fortunately, cats aren’t reknowned for their attention span, so after about a half hour Nitro had a pressing need to run to the other side of the room and take a bath.

Cathi stretched and realized her hangover was mostly gone. It must have been good cat karma or something. She sashayed up the stairs and tried to figure out what she wanted to wear. Looking at her shiny nails reminded her that she was planning to spend the entire weekend as a girl, and an idea hit her — she could try attaching her breast forms with the adhesive, and leave them on until Monday. She found some instructions on the web and read them through twice. She started by cleaning her forms and her chest free of any dirt and oil with an astringent, and then she put on a bra, choosing her see-through lace underwire, and arranged her breast forms in the cups. Then she needed to mark their locations on her skin with an eyebrow pencil, and then take her bra off. She sprayed the backs of the breast forms and then stuck them on in the marked locations and held them in place for a minute. She enjoyed the bounce of being topless, so kept her bra off and put on her lavender camisole.

Before she put the matching panties on, there was something she wanted to try. The website that told her how to glue on her boobs also had instructions for how a crossdresser could conceal his genitals by doing what they referred to as a “tuck and tape.” Cathi gave it a shot and tucked her testicles up into the abdominal cavity, and then wrapped her empty scrotum around her penis and used surgical adhesive tape to hold it in, and then pulled her penis back and under and used more tape to keep it there. It was an uncomfortable feeling that took some getting used to, but it made her panties fit so much better. She pulled on a pair of nude day sheer pantyhose and her long white half slip, and dressed in her purple skirt and her pink tank and cardigan twinset, then slid her feet into her boots. She went with her bronze earrings and necklace, and then did her makeup: smoky brown eyes and bright red lipstick to match her nails.

What to do with her day? She felt like having stew for dinner, so she tied on her apron and did some chopping and measuring and threw all the ingredients into the slow cooker and set it to go. She’d have a good stew ready in 7 hours. To go with it, she also set up her bread machine and set the timer so that bread would be fresh and cool enough to eat when the stew was. That killed most of the morning and so she had to think about what to have for lunch. She grilled a chicken breast and then cut it into strips (Nitro was being a good girl, so she gave her one), tossed them with some romaine lettuce, a few slices of cucumber and Bermuda onion, in a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Although the temptation for a little “hair of the dog” was strong, she stuck to her guns and drank a glass of water with her salad.

After lunch, she changed into her workout clothes and ran through the cheering exercises.
Some things were a little different to do with breasts, so she was glad she had them attached. This time she got a little further along in the lesson, and even paused the video and spent some extra time working on her cartwheels. She needed to take a shower after her exercise routine, and she had to be careful to keep her breasts from falling off, but the stayed on, and the tape held on Craig’s little friend, too. She put her original outfit back on after drying off and moisturizing, keeping the lotion away from either of her adhesives.

There was still time before her stew was ready, so she took her book down into the living room for some more reading. She thought a half a glass of wine would be okay, so she went up and brought it with her. While she was in the bathroom she saw the case for her contact lenses, and remembered that she was supposed to wear them for a few hours every day. She didn’t make too many mistakes getting them in, and really liked her look in them. Her glasses really kept her eye makeup from showing off much. With her eyes squared away, she went back down to her book, figuring reading in them would be good exercise for her eyes.

She was quickly caught up in the world of Emma and the captain, and completely lost track of time. There were a few more steamy scenes, but all of Cathi’s erogenous zones were locked away so she couldn’t get as into it as she had in the bath. At the end when they pledged their eternal love for one another, Cathi found herself weeping in joy. She looked up and realized that it had gone dark outside, and her dinner had been ready for two hours. She had not expected to get that absorbed into a trashy book.

The extra cooking didn’t hurt her stew any, although her bread had gone completely cold, and it’s better when it’s still a little warm. After dinner, she cleaned up and put away her leftovers, and then as she was told to she called Kitty’s cell phone to let her know she finished the book, but it went to voicemail. She left a long message about how much she enjoyed the whole feminine bubble bath ritual, and asked her if she knew any more typical female activities for Cathi to try.

She took out her lenses and then since there was plenty of time before she had to go to bed so she played her “How To Act Like a Woman” DVD in the living room player, and learned some new ways to walk. It was very educational. Unlike men, who just walk to get somewhere, as a woman you had to decide what kind of message you wanted to send before choosing your style. She hoped that all the walking on top of doing her stretching and tumbling again wouldn’t leave her too sore in the morning, but at least Craig wouldn’t have to go to work.

When she’d finally tired of walking, she took off her makeup, brushed her teeth and went to bed. Her nightie looked a lot cuter with boobies in the cups and she posed in front of the mirror for a while before settling in. She woke up in the middle of the night in horrible pain, like she’d been repeatedly kicked in the crotch. It was only then that she remembered the warning on the web page not to stay tucked for too long. She made her way to the bathroom and gently and cautiously removed the tape. She kept her bottoms off and sat at her computer web surfing for a while, sitting with her legs spread wide to let everyone down there get some air. It took a while, but the pain faded to the point where she could go back to bed. She pulled her bottoms back up, but didn’t tuck anything anywhere.

On Sunday morning, she slept in. She was a little sore from the previous day’s workout, but it wasn’t as harsh as before. To cut down on the number of times she’d need to shower and dress in one day, she went straight from her nightie to her sportswear and did her exercises in the morning, then showered. She dressed up in her black silk camisole and red miniskirt to practice an evening look, with sheer black hose and her black pumps, and went overboard on her makeup. She looked extremely cheap and slutty, and there was a part of her that liked it. She spent her day doing more walking exercises, learning how tricky it was doing simple things like sitting in a chair or getting into a car in a really short skirt, and finished her voice lessons in the evening. She needed practice, so she tried to call Kitty again, but it was still voicemail. She hoped nothing had happened to her. She did some more poking around on her computer until it was time for bed.

Chapter 9: The Jig is Up

The following Monday, Craig got a call on his cell while he was at work. It turned out that Kitty had simply forgotten to change her phone. She told him she’d think about another homework assignment for Cathi and get back to him. When he got home that night there was a note on his door from the UPS guy and he went over to Mrs. Walker’s for his package.

She was curious why he was ordering something that came in a box with megaphones printed all over it. He tried to come up with a believable story, but in the end he just couldn’t lie to a sweet old lady, and over coffee he told her almost everything, about the Halloween party, and his assignment, and his plan, and how he met an incredible woman who’d been helping him. Mrs. Walker let him know that she wasn’t blind, and she’d noticed the car that had been visiting him a few times. She told him that it was plain for anyone who knew him to see that he was in love, and she hoped this girl was the right one for him at last. He told her he wasn’t ready to call what he was feeling love, but she told him that she had been around God’s earth twice as long as he had, so he should take her word that she knew love when she saw it. She made him show her his cheer uniform before she let him leave, and said that it was simply precious, and that she was glad he wasn’t one of those hoochie cheerleaders with the tiny tops and the tight shorts that you see all the time on TV. He gave her a big hug and thanked her. He knew she’d keep his secret without needing to ask for it.

He called Kitty and arranged to meet her for lunch the next day to give her the uniform so she could check the colors. That night when Cathi did her cheer practice, she wore her real uniform. She wanted to try with the pompoms, but they came flat and needed a lot of fluffing before they’d be useable.

Craig met Kitty at her salon at lunchtime and handed her a shopping bag with the uniform in it, and then they went off to Fitzmichael’s, which was starting to feel like “their place.” They talked about family, and Kitty learned that Craig was an only child, and his parents had divorced when he was twelve. Craig learned that Kitty was a middle child. Her older brother Joe was an investment banker, and her little sister Becky was in med school. Craig said that must be tremendous pressure to be under, and hoped that her parents could see that she had found her own success in a field of her own choosing. She thought that was a really sweet thing to say, and he was almost late clocking in after lunch.

The rest of the week brought more lessons for Cathi. She was getting pretty good at some of the cheer moves, but still needed to work on some jumps. She’d finished all the lessons on the deportment video, but kept repeating them until everything was second nature. She felt pretty good about her voice, but when she started working on shouting her cheers (now that she didn’t need to live in fear of being overheard by the neighbor), she realized that she needed more work. She was losing pitch when she increased volume. She practically had to start the whole voice over again from the beginning, but louder.

Chapter 10: Makeover

Kitty called on Thursday to remind him that it was time to give Cathi another waxing, so they made a plan to meet at the end of the workday on Friday again, and she could return her uniform at the same time. He showed up and said hello to Madge and she glared at him as usual. He asked Kitty to tell him Madge’s real name so he could see if she was friendlier the next time he saw her.

Craig stripped down to his panties and Kitty strapped him onto the bench and got him drunk on vodka and cranberry again. She was only after the stragglers that hadn’t been completely pulled out in the last session, so it didn’t take quite as long, but she did point out a couple of red dots in Cathi’s bikini area where ingrown hairs were forming. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, but she told Craig to make sure to be thorough when exfoliating. There was plenty of time left after the wax this time, so when she followed Craig home she decided to give Cathi another particularly feminine experience: a makeover.

Craig was nervous letting Kitty see him dressed completely for the first time, but she’d seen him in lingerie so much, and he really did trust her and value her opinion, so he took extra care dressing, in Cathi’s blue dress and her sandals, with her see-through lacy bra and panties and her silky full slip, with daytime sheer mocha hose and her wedge sandals. She did her makeup in what she thought was an appropriate daytime look, put barrettes in her hair and walked out to show Kitty.

Kitty was impressed with Cathi’s poise and voice, and if she didn’t know better would have believed her to be genuine. But she sat her at her mirror and showed that a little more product in her hair to give it more body, and moving the barrettes to the side of her head would help to change the style into something less flat and more feminine.

Then she cleaned Cathi’s face and showed her how she wasn’t taking advantage of the ability of eye shadow to change the shape of her eyes. Cathi’s technique was still making it look like she had heavy male brows, but Kitty showed how by shading higher into the browline it lifted her forehead. Cathi had also been putting her blusher on in the wrong place. She showed that Cathi didn’t need to try to result her face with blush; she had nice cheekbones even if they weren’t as prominent as a supermodel’s. When Kitty was done with her, Cathi looked worlds better and she gave her a big hug and a kiss that transferred most of her lipstick to Kitty’s lips.

Kitty returned the embrace and said that she was sorry she couldn’t stay; she was taking a road trip in the morning and needed to get up early. Cathi told her to go get her emergency overnight bag, and she’d set the alarm for as early as Kitty wanted. She relented, and they spent the night spooned together. Cathi slept in the nude, following Kitty’s lead, but neither of them tried anything sexual. They were satisfying more of an emotional need than a physical one.

While Kitty spent the weekend visiting her grandmother two counties away (she wanted to get advice about this guy she thought she was falling for), Cathi spent another couple of days as a girl 24-7, working on her kicks until she was able to do them perfectly, and getting her voice making those sweet dulcet tones even when cheering. She was kind of glad to have the time to herself, although she’d made a plan to spend the entire next weekend as Cathi over at Kitty’s place. She wanted to be perfectly passable by then, and went over all the gestures and turns of phrase that gave her trouble and would tip someone off that she wasn’t as she appeared.

Chapter 11: Girls’ Weekend

About the only eventful thing that happened the following week was that Cathi finished the trial period for her contact lenses on Monday, and Craig’s optometrist was able to order the real ones. Craig had fallen into a routine where he’d get home for work, change into Cathi’s cheer practice outfit and run through her video, then take a shower and change into one of Cathi’s outfits with full makeup and either practice walking or talking, or do some more research on the web into hair or makeup or other ways to improve her feminine persona before changing into a nightgown and going to bed. Craig also had picked up another bodice-ripping romance novel for her to read at bedtime, a story about a Southern belle and a Yankee carpetbagger.

Kitty came over to Craig’s place on Friday night. The plan was for Cathi to spend the weekend together with her. She pored through Cathi’s wardrobe and packed up a few things for her to wear. She asked Craig a few questions about the special-purpose elements, but otherwise she wouldn’t tell him anything about where they were going or what they’d be doing. She told him to dress in Cathi’s little black dress, so she glued on her breasts, tightened down her waist cincher, and pulled up her gaff and bun pants. Kitty wanted her to hear her thigh-highs, which meant that every so often the lace tops of her stockings could be seen peeking sexily out from under her hemline. Kitty did Cathi’s hair and nails and makeup for her, and helped her pick her jewelry. Kitty then pulled out a bag and changed into a LBD of her own. Cathi was nervous that she was been planning to take them out somewhere in public. “We’re not going out somewhere, are we?”

Kitty put her hand on Cathi’s shoulder. “There’s no need to be scared, Sweetie. While it’s true that we’re going out to a few places this weekend, I’ve researched them in the Alternative Weekly, and everywhere we’re going has been rated LGBT-friendly. No one’s going to stare at you or think you don’t belong. I promise.”

Cathi stepped closer for a reassuring hug. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. If people are staring at you it will be because you’re extremely cute. I’d kiss you right now if it wouldn’t mean you’d smear your lipstick. Do you trust me?”

“Completely.”

“Well, I’m telling you this as a girl with pink hair. Believe me when I say I know where two women can go for a nice meal together without people pointing at you.”

“I been so worried about not looking like a crossdresser, I hadn’t even considered that we’d be looking like lesbians.”

“I’m the one with the short haircut in pink and purple, both colors that are used by gay groups to self-identify. So I get mistaken for a lesbian a lot. It’s no big deal, and it’s an easy way to keep obnoxious guys from hitting on you.”

Cathi got her purse, and Kitty loaded her bag into the car and drove them into the city. They went to a ritzy Italian restaurant over near the artsy part of town. The valet didn’t even laugh at Kitty’s car, but did hold the door for them. The maitre d’ who showed them to their table pulled out their chairs for them. Cathi was having fun being treated like a lady. She smiled and thanked Kitty for making her do it. The waiter who came to take their order even flirted a little. When they didn’t order an appetizer and Cathi said she was watching her figure, he offered to watch it for her. A corny line, but it sounded cuter with an Italian accent. She had a delicious fettuccine Alfredo, and Kitty had little medallions of veal in luscious wine sauce over pesto. They each had a taste of the other’s entrée, but preferred their own choice. The wine was good, but Kitty was driving, and Cathi didn’t want to overdo again, so they only had one glass. They didn’t finish their meals, but split a tiramisu with their espressos anyway. The guy brought back their tinfoil swans and Kitty gave him her credit card. Cathi thanked her for paying, but she said she could make it up to her by putting out, and Cathi couldn’t stop laughing.

They drove back to Kitty’s place. She lived in a huge studio apartment in a converted mill. Large windows ran along one side of it. Coming in the door, her kitchenette was off to the left in a nook. She had a little round Formica table circa 1960 with a couple of chrome chairs to the right in front of the windows. Past that were an easy chair, an old couch and a small TV table. The door to the bathroom was next to the kitchen. The far end of the apartment had her king-size platform bed, behind a standing screen. She had a large industrial-sized vanity table that made Cathi drool with envy. It looked like it had an earlier life backstage at a theatre. A couple of mismatched chests of drawers flanked a closet door at the end.

Kitty gave Cathi the grand tour by standing in the doorway and gesturing, finishing off with, “...And that thing on the couch there is my buddy Mr. Lump.” Cathi took a second look at what had seemed at initial glance to be a fuzzy throw pillow, and saw that it was a longhaired black cat, curled up and sleeping.

“Why do you call him Mr. Lump?”

“When I got him he was just a little ball of fur, and he didn’t move much. And that was before he got neutered. He’s nine now, and spends most of his days right there on his spot. Yet somehow his food in the kitchen keeps disappearing, and his litter box in the bathroom keeps getting used. But he’s my little buddy anyway.” She walked over and pet him, and he didn’t seem to react at all.

“Is that really some kind of toy and you’re trying to trick me?”

“No, he’s not. Now you owe him an apology.” Kitty picked him up and somehow he turned from a circle into a cat shape. She carried him over to Cathi. “Now tell Mr. Lump you’re sorry you called him a toy.”

Cathi put on a pouty face. “I’m sorry I called you a toy, Mr. Lump, sir. I promise it will never happen again. I cross my heart.” She made an x with her finger between her breasts.

“You look so sexy in that dress. The way you jiggle drives me wild!” Kitty pulled Cathi close and jammed her tongue down her throat.

“I just didn’t want bra straps showing. But if you liked it that much, I’ll stay braless all weekend for you.” Kitty had started nibbling on Cathi’s throat, and was softly stroking the small of her back. “Mmmm.. That feels wonderful. Do you think we can sit down? These heels are killing me!” Kitty led her over to the bed and they sat down. She pulled off Cathi’s shoes and stockings and started rubbing her feet. “Oooh! Keep doing that and I’ll do anything for you — anything.”

Kitty moved on to the other foot and got Cathi seriously purring. She very deftly unzipped Cathi’s dress and pulled it over her head, then stood up and slithered out of her own. She pushed Cathi down on the bed and kissed her again, tenderly but passionately.
“You’re the hottest lesbian I’ve ever taken to bed.”

“I know what I’ve got to do, then.” Cathi reached out and lowered Kitty’s panties, and ran one of her pretty fingers down the little strip of hair. She started making little circles and then slipped inside her. She leaned back and moved her hands to reposition Kitty so she was kneeling astride Cathi’s face. She went to work with her tongue, bringing her fingers into play occasionally. Kitty arched her back and squirmed, moaning loudly. Cathi could tell Kitty was on the edge, and she worked to keep her there without going over as long as she could, but then the dam burst. Kitty dismounted to let her lover breathe, and moved so she was lying beside her. Cathi unhooked Kitty’s bra, then reached over to play with a nipple while they kissed. She liked swinging the little rings.

Kitty put her hand on Cathi’s hip. “One of us still has her panties on. Whatever can we do about that?” Cathi shifted her weight off her hip and then lowered her gaff and bun pant together then returned to the embrace. Kitty’s hand wandered to Cathi’s crotch. “Oh, you naughty lesbian! You wore your strap-on. Ok, you can wear one this weekend, but next time I get to.” Cathi was too distracted to worry about that. Kitty very quickly had little Craig at attention, and had pushed Cathi down and was mounting her again. Kitty pushed Cathi’s hips down so they couldn’t move and took complete control. Cathi just played with her breasts while she ground herself against Cathi’s imaginary dildo. Kitty hit her climax three times before Cathi’s willpower gave out. She laid back down beside Cathi and they snuggled into sleep.

Saturday, Kitty had Cathi dress in her casual denim skirt and white camisole. She said they needed to go shopping, which was one of those feminine experiences Cathi needed to have. Kitty brought her to a factory outlet mall and had her try on several different pairs of jeans, a wardrobe essential that Cathi was missing, and would need to wear the next day. She finally found a pair of stonewashed blue jeans that came just below the waist. Cathi thought they felt a little tight, but had to agree with Kitty when she said they made her padded ass look incredible, especially in her 4” boots. The other thing Cathi needed was a jacket. They found one that looked awesome, but it was leather and kind of pricey, but Cathi saw it in the mirror and had to have it. She wanted it enough to pay with Craig’s credit card and tell the cashier her true identity. They had to call over a manager, but after she called his bluff and offered to drop trou for him in his office, he signed off on it. Kitty and Cathi were tremendously giggly after that and did some more shopping but didn’t buy anything. They had a lunch at a little sandwich shop in the industrial part of town. Kitty said their next errand was in that direction. She drove them over to a scary looking place with some mannequins being tortured in the window. They went in and Cathi saw it was a place that sold leather and vinyl bondage wear, and she felt totally out of place. Kitty led her over to a counter at the back, where a buff bald guy covered in tattoos and piercings was working. He seemed to know her. “Hey, Kittycat! Who’s the norm?”

“Back off, Porridge. This here’s Cathi, my new bitch. My order come in?” Cathi cowered behind Kitty. “I should have two packages: one for Katz, one for Brooks.” Cathi was getting a package here? She was scared, but if this was something Kitty wanted, she’d be willing to try it. She just hoped whatever it was didn’t hurt too much. The weird guy went through a doorway in the back and came back with four boxes, indicated which two were for which order. Kitty told Cathi to give her credit card to the guy, and he laughed when he realized she was a guy. He rang up both orders and sent them on their way. Cathi wanted to know what this was about, and Kitty said she could open the box when they got home. They returned to Kitty’s place, and she explained that she wanted to expose Kitty to her world completely, so they’d be going clubbing that night. “You know I don’t want to get you hurt, or humiliated, or unduly embarrassed, right?” Cathi nodded. “So just accept that what I’m making you wear is considered fashionable in my neck of the woods, ok?” She nodded again. Kitty pulled out some more shopping bags from her closet, explaining that she’d already bought the rest of Cathi’s outfit.

What Cathi ended up in was a sort of punk/fetish version of a Catholic Schoolgirl. She had a white PVC top that fully covered her breasts and had wide straps over her shoulders that crisscrossed over her bare shoulders. Below the bustline it was corset-like only with buckles instead of laces. Kitty pulled the straps extremely tight, giving Cathi the smallest waistline she’d ever had. Garter straps hung down, and clipped to black fishnet stockings. Cathi tucked and taped herself in place, and Kitty put her in a pair of tiny white thong panties that covered enough but nothing more, and over that she wore a tragically short plaid pleated miniskirt that was fastened with three giant safety pins. Her shoes were a pair of knee-high black patent leather boots with 6” spike heels. They laced all the way up to the knee, but had hidden zippers to make removal easier. Kitty finished her outfit with a red and green striped necktie, and a silver cross on a long chain. She spiked up her hair and sprayed it with temporary maroon coloring. She did her makeup in a similar extreme note — huge sweeps of blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, very heavy black eyeliner and mascara.

Kitty’s outfit was all black. She wore thigh-high black patent platform boots, and a very very tight rubber minidress that only came about three inches below obscene. Kitty wasn’t wearing any underwear, and she had somehow taken her nipple rings off and clipped them onto the outside of her dress. In seeming conflict with this harsh image, she had a headband in her hair with little pink kitty ears attached to it. Kitty’s makeup was just as intense as Cathi’s, but she used pink eyeshadow instead of blue, and black lipstick instead of red.

She pinned some emergency money to the inside of Cathi’s skirt in case her purse got lost, and then called a cab to take them to the club, explaining that her dress was too tight to drive in. Cathi was nervous, but needn’t have been. Kitty was in her element. When they got to the club, which was an old converted warehouse, they skipped past the crowd waiting in line, and headed straight to the bouncer. He waved them in, but Kitty had stopped. She picked a rather average-looking guy from the middle of the line and called him over. “If you agree to buy drinks for my girlfriend and me, I’ll get you in.” The guy looked at them lustily and came along. True to her word, Kitty told the bouncer he was with them. She led him straight to the bar to buy each of them a drink, which turned out to be a draft beer in a plastic cup. Kitty explained that a couple of hot chicks like them probably wouldn’t have to pay for anything all night until the cab ride home. It was all still very new to Cathi. They weren’t even remotely the strangest couple in the room — all manner of kinks and perversions were on display; a crossdressed lesbian schoolgirl wouldn’t even have made the top ten. The place hadn’t changed much since it was a warehouse. All they’d done is wire the place for light and sound and ran a bar down the middle of most of it. The music was kind of loud, but you got used to it after a while. Kitty led Cathi around the room and introduced her to some people, but she really couldn’t hear much. But they were a real hit on the dance floor. Kitty was quite impressed with Cathi’s gracefulness even with six-inch heels. A few loosening drinks into her and Cathi was really having fun out there, using her cheerleader flexibility training to good effect. At one point, she did one of her high kicks and flashed her thong to the onlookers, and earned three free drinks. When she dropped down and did a split then bounced back up, she earned six. Kitty was glad she was fitting into her world so well. In the beginning, she’d been so worried that she’d have nothing in common with Craig, but the more he let his Cathi-side out, the more they seemed to mesh. Before she got too drunk and did something crazy, Kitty called the cab and they went home. By the time they were both extricated from their outfits, they were too tired for any fooling around, so they just went to bed after drinking as much water as they could.

Kitty’s plan for Sunday brought them out into the country. They went apple picking (it was the end of the season, so there weren’t many good prospects, and they ended up just buying a bag of apples at the orchard, but they had fun anyway.) and then had a picnic lunch.

In the afternoon, Kitty wanted Cathi to show her how to bake an apple pie, so first they went to the grocery store. Cathi found Kitty’s kitchen hard to work in, but they got it done. While the pie was baking they cuddled on the couch (after asking Lump to move to the chair) and watched an old movie on cable. Cathi liked the low-key contrast to their wild evening, and thought that it was the kind of thing a person could get used to. And the pie was very tasty. Kitty made a joke that it was very appropriate for their lesbian weekend to end with eating pie, and Cathi turned her metaphor into reality one more time before she had to go home in order to be able to turn into a pumpkin in the morning.

Chapter 12: Once More into the Breech

The next week was a fairly hectic one for Craig. On Monday, Cathi’s contacts had come in, so Craig went to the optometrist after work and paid for six boxes of lenses, each of which was a one-month supply for one eye, which meant Cathi would be set for three months even though she only needed them for one night. But Craig had just placed what the guy told him was a standard order, so as not to be too embarrassed. On Wednesday, he had to go shopping for a few extra things for Cathi, and on Thursday he met Kitty for dinner at their usual table at Fitzmichael’s.

As he got home from work on Friday, Craig was more nervous that he’d been so far into this thing. But Cathi was confident that she had her voice, her moves and all her little feminine mannerisms down perfectly. So she quickly showered and dried off without moisturizing, as ordered. After putting in her eyes, she dressed in her favorite pink underthings and her new silky red dress, and slipped her feet into her wedges (she was planning on drinking, and the wedges were easier to walk in than her spike heels.) and then did her face up for somewhere between a night on the town and a day at the office and moussed her hair up into the style Kitty had shown her, and then all the various potions and paints and powders into her purse for touch-ups. She kept her jewelry fairly simple with plain gold hoops clipped on her ears, a double-knotted chain around her neck, and a bracelet watch on her left wrist. She felt uncomfortably naked without any scent, but Kitty had told her not to. She wasn’t going to be home again until Sunday, so Nitro’s bowl got overfilled with the dry cat food she tolerated. Kitty was planning another Girls’ Day on Sunday, and hadn’t told her any details about what to wear, so she packed up everything she owned into Craig’s largest suitcase. She grabbed her coat, a full-length double-breasted charcoal grey wool number that had been on sale at Kohl’s, said good-bye to her kittycat, and wheeled the suitcase out to the car.

It was a far cry from that first day in the salon. Out of nostalgia, she’d brought a bottle of vodka that had been chilling in her freezer and a bottle of cranberry juice, but nothing else was the same as before. She hung her coat on the rack and then smiled at the receptionist, who was wearing her Madge nametag as always. “Hi, Kenzie. Could you tell Kitty her dinner’s here?” She held up the paper bag in her left hand. “You’re welcome to join us if you like Thai. There’s plenty.”

“Just go on back there, and let her know I had to go, okay? I’ve got a big date tonight” With her deadpan delivery it was hard to know if she just making an excuse. She was still an enigma.

Kitty had a hard time rationalizing the pretty girl delicately using chopsticks to eat noodles out of a box with the uptight conservative guy she’d met less than a month before. Cathi just seemed so natural. It was a credit to Craig’s dedication to the project and his willingness to do whatever it took, one of the things she loved about him. Did she really just think that?

After dinner, Cathi fixed her lipstick and then it was time to get to work. The theme of the evening was pain. Kitty started by attacking Cathi’s eyebrows with a pair of tweezers. She’d been keeping them groomed, but hadn’t wanted Craig to stand out too much. Kitty liberally thinned them down to an unmistakably feminine arched elongated teardrop shape. Cathi looked in the mirror and liked what she saw — it improved her look immensely. For the next painful step in her makeover, Cathi removed her earrings and Kitty punched each lobe with a piercing gun, giving her a pair of sparkly CZ studs that would twinkle nicely during her cheer routine.

Then it was on to the main event. Cathi stripped down to her panties, feeling regret at her lessened femininity when her breasts came off with the bra, and lay on the bench. The waxing wasn’t quite as painful this time around, but it seemed to take longer, as Kitty was extra diligent in the waxing this time, attempting to remove every last little bit of stubble. This time when Kitty applied the finishing lotion after waxing the bikini area and an erection popped up, she decided to check that there was no stubble left by running along its length with her tongue, and then rewarded her boyfriend by taking him into her mouth completely, working the shaft with her lips while teasing the head with the back of her tongue. It was strange to hear that Craig was still using his Cathi voice to make the little moans of ecstasy, and Kitty would have giggled at the idea of sucking a woman’s penis if her mouth hadn’t been full at the time, and she didn’t want to shoot milk out her nose. When the eruption came, she was ready for it, and swallowed every drop without hesitation, and then cleaned up and got back to the wax. She continued her new more sensual aftercare method when she got to the chest area, softly suckling on each nipple as they became hairless. After the front side was done, she helped Cathi sit up and they shared a long and passionate kiss, before Cathi pulled up her panties and went off for a bathroom break, insisting on bringing her purse with her to fix her face. Kitty was a bit surprised at the realization that she was getting a bit turned on by how perfectly girlish her man was, as she refreshed his drink and waited for him to come mincing back.

Cathi lay down with her face in the hole on the table and was pleased to see the straw sticking out of her drink, ready for her. Kitty was just as meticulous with her wax as on the front side, perhaps even more so. When she got to the part where she’d finished the Brazilian aspect, and saw a little pink rosebud surrounded by baby-smooth skin, she decided that since it was the only erogenous zone on this side; why not pay it some attention as she had all the others? She leaned down and planted a kiss, then nudged the tip of her tongue ever so slightly inside. Cathi was surprised by the sensation, but even more so at her own desire for it to continue. Almost involuntarily, she pushed her hips back toward Kitty’s face, as though to allow for deeper penetration. That and Cathi’s little squeals were all the encouragement Kitty needed, so she worked her tongue in there deeper and faster. It really didn’t taste as bad as she’d imagined it would; it was fairly clean. Before long, Cathi’s hips were quivering in delight, to crescendo in an orgasm unlike any she’d ever experienced before, making a sticky mess on the bench. Kitty only realized she’d been fingering herself when she reached her climax almost simultaneously. She went around to Cathi’s top half for an embrace and another kiss before cleaning up the mess and then going on to wax Cathi’s back and shoulders. It was nearly two when she finished, and Cathi felt better when she could get dressed and put her boobs back in place. As before while Kitty was cleaning up the workspace and being extra careful since sex acts (a major taboo) had occurred, she made Cathi drink two liters of water in order to avoid a hangover.

Then they loaded Cathi’s suitcase into Kitty’s car and went back to her place. Lump opened his eyes momentarily when they came in, but he went back to his nap immediately. They had an early start the next day, so Kitty set the alarm for 7:00. Cathi took out her lenses, cleansed her face and rinsed the product out of her hair. They were both so exhausted that they climbed into bed in a naked heap of intertwined limbs and quickly fell asleep.

The buzzing of a strange alarm woke him, and then a stinging in his ears and the incredible feeling of much smooth skin touching much other smooth skin reminded him where he was. It was the day of Cathi’s big debut, and he was snuggling in Kitty’s bed. They had a lot of work to do that day. He hit buttons on the alarm clock until in shut up, and then gently disentangled himself to go off toward where he remembered the kitchen to be. Kitty opened her eyes to see Craig’s tasty little behind wiggling across the room — had she really done that last night? She stretched and thought about throwing on a t-shirt or something, but didn’t want her companion to feel underdressed and self-conscious, so instead she went over into the bathroom nude and took care of things. When she got to the kitchen, she saw that Craig had been busy. Coffee was brewing, bread was toasting, and he was in the process of making a cheese omelet. She slumped up against him and gave him a hug. “I could really get used to this having someone take care of all the morning stuff for me.” She wasn’t awake enough yet to be guarded.

“Thanks. Take a seat and I’ll get you a coffee.”

She had barely taken her first sip when he dropped a plate in front of her with half the omelet and two buttered toast triangles. It was delicious and just enough fuel to start her day. “Okay, so here’s the plan for the day: we have about an hour to shower, and get dressed, and then we’ll head back over to Scissors for six to eight hours of beauty treatments. Cathi will bring her cheer stuff in a bag and change and you can go right from there for the party, since your car is already there. How’s that sound?” Craig still wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into, but he trusted her so he nodded consent and finished his breakfast quickly.

Kitty thought it would be more efficient if they shared the shower, and it would have been if they’d stuck to cleaning themselves. But then as she was helpfully washing his back she started running her hands all over him, checking for stray hairs, but then he turned around to face her and her hands found something they’d rather play with, and his hands went to her nipples, and she pulled him close and they kissed, and his right hand moved lower, and he stroked her lips with his fingers while his thumb tapped out a message in Morse code on her clitoris. She was losing her balance and had to move her hands to his shoulders to support herself as she bucked her hips against his touch, feeling his fingers slipping inside her. He worked her up and brought her over the edge but it wasn’t enough for her. She looked him in the eyes and he knew what she wanted; he moved his hands down to beneath her thighs and lifted her up. She let go of his left shoulder only long enough to reach down and guide him into her, and then grabbed him again. He pushed her up against the wall for better leverage, and she wrapped her legs around his. They thrust against each other, easily matching rhythms and moving as one. He held himself back until he felt her starting to go, and she reached her climax right when she could feel his hot juices shooting inside her. Kitty was glad she was on the pill; it allowed for moments of spontaneity like this where you didn’t need to hunt down a condom. And one of the upsides of being with a square like Craig is that she didn’t have to worry if he’d been tested. Security and breathtaking sex — what more could you want?

But unfortunately it threw off their schedule a little. They had to rush getting dressed. The plan was for Cathi to be exclusively female through until Monday morning. Kitty warned her that she’d be sitting in a chair for several hours so she should dress in something casual and comfortable. They decided that she was better off letting her skin sweat and breathe, so she held off taping things up down below, and gluing things on up above until it was time to change for the party. She wore her gaff and bun panty, and slipped her forms into her bra, then dressed in her denim skirt and raspberry top. Kitty pointed out that they didn’t get a chance to give her a pedicure the night before, so she didn’t wear hose and just slipped on her sandals. Her watch was the only jewelry she wore other than her fun new earrings. She kept her makeup minimal — some mauve lipstick and a bit of mascara. A peek in the mirror reminded her of her pretty new eyebrows, and she felt more believable. She packed her cheer stuff in a sports bag Craig had from when he used to belong to a gym. She grabbed her purse and coat and was ready only twenty minutes later than Kitty wanted her to be.

Chapter 13: Cathi’s New Look

Cathi’s salon day began with a color session. Kitty showed her a pair of golden blonde swatches of hair. One was a sample of her hair that had been dyed, and the other was one of the extensions they’d be putting in. The color seemed to match perfectly. It was comforting to know that Kitty knew exactly what it would take to make her hair turn that color. Cathi just had to relax and let it happen. While Kitty was putting something resembling foul-smelling shampoo in her hair, a tall, thin black woman with cheekbones to die for and her face framed in ebony ringlets came over and introduced herself as Gisele, one of the partners in the business. Cathi complimented her on her earrings, and she thanked her, but then turned to Kitty. “I thought we were supposed to be working on your boyfriend today? Who’s this girl? What happened?”

Kitty giggled, and almost spilled the noxious chemicals she was working with. “Um, this girl is my boyfriend. I told you we’d be making him up to look female. Cathi, Zell will be doing your nails while I work on your hair. Did you have a color preference?”

Craig was almost too overjoyed at having been called Kitty’s boyfriend to respond, but Cathi had to shake it off. In her perkiest voice she looked in Zell’s incredulous face and said, “I know sometimes cheerleaders paint their nails in the team colors, but our colors are black and yellow, which are both kind of icky looking on fingernails, like they’re sick or something, so I don’t think I want to go that way. I’ve kinda grown attached to bubblegum pink, like it’s my signature color, so something like that would be nice. But you’re the expert so if you think there’s a better shade than that for my coloring, I’ll take your advice.”

Zell was getting angry. “Are you trying to trick me, Kitty? No way is this person here a man!”

Kitty was seriously giggling now, and Cathi said, “Please believe me. I can prove it.” She reached into her top and pulled out her left breast and handed it to Zell. “See?” Kitty couldn’t take it any more and had to stop working.

Zell looked down at this blobby thing in her hand and saw the realistically colored nipple and cracked a smile so wide she had to cover her mouth. “Damn, Girl! You’re really good. I’d never have believed it. So, bubblegum pink it is.” She gave Cathi back her breast form and went to get some supplies. She slipped it into place and adjusted it until it sat properly in the bra cup.

While the dye was setting, Zell worked on Cathi’s left hand, first working on the cuticles, then filing down the nails and then applying acrylic extensions so that all her nails stuck a uniform quarter inch out from the fingertip. The first coat of pink was starting to dry when Kitty said it was time for the next step. The colorants had to be rinsed out. Cathi barely got a chance to look at her wet blonde hair in the mirror before Kitty started applying more stuff to it. This was a setting solution, to give her hair a little more wave. Zell moved on to the right hand, so Cathi took the time to get a good look at her left hand. With no hair, a girlie little bracelet watch, and now the new nails, the hand looked so feminine it was hard to see any part of Craig in it. Cathi made a few hand poses and just couldn’t get over how pretty a hand could be. Kitty finished putting the little curlers in and stuck her under one of those big dome dryers that Cathi had thought only existed in the fifties. In a few minutes, she had two lovely hands, and it was time to come out from under the dryer. They were pretty good at synchronizing things. Zell told her her nails weren’t fully hardened yet, so she still needed to be careful with them. Cathi thanked her for her work, and told her not to leave before she got a chance to give her a hug.

It was such a perfectly feminine reaction that she turned to Kitty and asked,“You sure there’s a guy under there?”

Kitty said “Yes, I’m sure.”

“You said he was your boyfriend, so it’s an actual straight heterosexual guy under there, not some swishy girly fairy boy?”

“Well, occasionally swishyish and girlyish as you can see, but most definitely straight. Want to know how many times he rocked my world this morning?” Kitty punctuated that sentence by pulling Cathi up for a deeply sensual kiss. Many eyes in the salon turned to watch and someone shouted out “Welcome to the team!” Craig was just in too much bliss to say anything. Kitty was admitting to being in a serious relationship with him — nothing else really mattered at this point. Cathi had to be told twice to look up into the mirror to see her hair with all the curlers out. It was severely short, but looked like a vaguely feminine style. The way the blonde caught the light was very cute, and really went well with her blue eyes.

Then she was marched off to the old familiar torture chamber. The chair was configured so that she could lean forward and rest her face on the cushion. Kitty brought in another one of the employees, a pale girl with straight black hair in a grey antique dress that had long sleeves with pretty lace cuffs, a high collar with more lace on it, and a hem that dragged on the floor. “Elspeth here is learning how to do extensions, so I’m going to use this opportunity of a client that I know won’t sue me to help her get some experience, but I’ll be right beside her the whole time. With more hands, we might even get the job done faster. We’re using what’s called a ‘single strand’ method, which while it doesn’t actually attach one extension to every individual hair on your head, it only does a few hairs at a time, so it is a very time consuming task. Any time you need a break, just let us know. And we will be stopping for lunch at some point.”

Cathi understood all of that and settled into the chair, letting her mind wander. She mentally ran through her cheer routine several times, and didn’t think she’d forget any part of it. She wondered what Kitty had planned for their Girls’ Day on Sunday, and hoped that an opportunity might present itself to say “I love you” to her, or maybe it would be better if she waited until turning back into Craig for the first time. Cathi was just bubbling over with emotion, and figured she could probably just channel that into her perky cheerleader persona. Zell came in and sat on a low stool beside her to give her a pedicure. She slipped off Cathi’s shoe and started doing some kind of foot massage thing that was just hitting all the right pressure points that she fell asleep.

The next thing she was aware of was being gently shaken. Kitty was whispering in her ear, “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Lunch is here.” As Kitty helped her to her feet, Cathi looked down and saw her pretty pink toes peeking out of her sandals, and felt a slight tugging of weight on the back of her scalp. She reached a hand up to the back of her neck and felt a lot of hair that wasn’t there before. Kitty cautioned her that it wasn’t done yet, but led her to a mirror to see how it looked so far. Holding a hand mirror so she could see the back of her head in the wall mirror, Cathi saw blonde hair reaching down between her shoulder blades. The hair from around halfway down the back of her head was long, but above that was still short. She told Kitty it looked nice, but asked that she please keep going; Cathi didn’t want a mullet.

Lunch was pretty good. They’d gotten a couple large pizzas and a couple large salads and some breadsticks delivered. Cathi was still a little too nervous to be hungry, so she just stuck to salad and breadsticks, and accepted a can of Diet Coke when it was offered. Lunch also gave her the opportunity to meet more of the Scissors of Mercy family. She already knew Kitty, Zell, Elspeth, and Kenzie. Nadia, a muscular, bald woman with two interlocking female symbols tattooed on her right bicep worked primarily with piercings and ink and asked Cathi if she was interested in anything. Cathi told the very scary woman she’d have to think about it and get back to her. Maralyn was a younger girl with a tall Mohawk the color of cherry Kool-Aid. She didn’t say much, but Cathi caught her staring a few times.

After lunch it was back for more extensions, but after a couple hours and a bathroom break they readjusted the chair so that Cathi was a little more vertical. She thought that it was interesting that she could tell which of the hands touching her scalp were Kitty’s, even when she couldn’t see them, just by the tingling that went through her After another couple hours, they were done. Cathi looked in the mirror and saw the mass of long blonde hair coming out of her head and gave everyone of the team a warm hug. She told Kitty to make sure she stuck a big tip for everyone onto the credit card bill for the day.

The next step had her sitting back at a styling station in the main room, where Kitty then slipped an elastic headband around her neck and pulled it up over her new hair to get it all off of her face. She put a steaming hot towel from out of the microwave onto Cathi’s face and left it there. When it was removed, she saw Kitty standing there running a straight razor over a leather strop. Nadia called out, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do that? I have more experience at it, and besides I could help you out and cut off a few extra things from your girlfriend while I had the knife.” The panicked look on Cathi’s face made Kitty turn down the offer, even though she was sure the second part was a joke. She whipped soap into a lather with a brush, Old School style, and proceeded to give Cathi the closest shave Craig had ever had. She’d been thinking girl thoughts so much that she’d completely forgotten that she’d need a shave. Kitty cleaned her up with another hot towel and pulled off the headband. She took a pair of scissors and trimmed a little bit off some of the ends of the new hair to even it out, and then moved some things around with a comb so that Cathi now had a cute fringe of bangs on her forehead. Kitty turned her chair so she could see a mirror and even without makeup, Cathi looked really cute. She thanked Kitty with a throrough kiss that curled her toes and would have made Craig Junior stand up and take notice if he hadn’t been strapped down.

Kitty handed Cathi her bag and sent her into the bathroom to change. She started by stripping completely naked, then sat on the throne and let one of her pretty feminine hands stroke her boy parts while her other hand ran through her gorgeous blonde locks. The sexual tension had been building up all day and really needed a release. Next, she cleaned herself off with first toilet paper and then a moistened wipe from her bag, and then finally dried and cleaned the entire crotch region with alcohol swabs, and then tucked and taped everything up and back into their proper places. She then cleaned off her chest and her breast forms with the alcohol wipes, and then sprayed both with medical adhesive. When it dried, she used the marks from the underwire bra she’d been wearing all day to locate where to stick on her breasts and positioned each one in place, holding for a count of fifty before letting go. At this point she liked the feeling of being naked and female, and applied some scented body spray, and then rolled on some deodorant under her arms. She pulled up her padded panties next, and made sure the pads were in the right place, enjoying the sensation of feeling her breasts hanging down when she bent over. Her gold cheer briefs went on over her panties, and she made sure everything was covered. Next came her sport bra, pulling it over her head and getting settled into the cups. Her cheer top came over her head next, and it felt very sexy to have to pull her long hair through the neck opening before zipping it up. She stepped into her cute pleated skirt next, buttoning and zipping it closed. She then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and put on her little white cheering ankle socks, and her bright white cheering sneakers. She put her old clothes in her bag and came out of the bathroom, where an audience who had been watching the door all applauded and whistled catcalls. She reached into her bag and grabbed her pompoms, then dropped the bag. She put her hands on her hips and stood upright, then in cadence shouted “Thank you for my hair,” and she gave a quick turn so her hair spun, “I really love my look,” and she did a split jump with a toe touch, to much applause, “and special thanks to Kitty,” she rolled her pompoms and pointed, “who I sure love to fook,” but as she said the last word she did a high kick and muffled her mouth with her leg, making the dirty joke less obvious.

“That was very sweet, Cutie.” Kitty showed her appreciation with a kiss. “Now that’s your last one. No more kisses until after your party. We don’t want to mess your lipstick.” Kitty put Cathi in a chair and covered her cute outfit with a smock. She started with her hair, gathering it into a ponytail on each side, being careful not to show too many of the joints on her extensions. She secured each ponytail with an elastic, but then covered each one with a mass of black and gold spiral ribbons she’d bought from a cheerleader supply company. When she finished, she spun Cathi’s chair to give her a good look in the mirror. Cathi thought she was really really cute, exactly the look she was going for,

For the last step, Cathi’s makeup, Kitty brought her rolling cart of cosmetics over. She started by evening out her complexion with a crá¨me foundation, and followed with a translucent powder. She dropped the powder compact in Cathi’s purse, so that she could fix any accidents, but let her know that all the products she was using on her were long-wearing and waterproof, so nothing should be rubbing off. But she could take them with her just to feel safe. Just a little blusher was all it took to give her cheeks definition, but not too much. She filled in Cathi’s graceful new eyebrows with a brown pencil next, then asked for her opinion. “Do you want black or brown eyeliner? Ordinarily an evening party like this would call for a black liner, but you’re trying to look more innocent than slutty, so my instincts say to go with the brown.”

“I trust your instincts. Go with the brown. Besides, the only one I want to look slutty for isn’t going to be there. Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

“Even with you like this, the corporate world and I just do not get around. But come to my place after your party, and we just might put your sluttiness to the test.”

“Mmm… I like the sound of that. Can I just blow off the party and go be slutty with you?”

“You’ve put too much into it to back out now, I know there’s a part of you that’s scared, but you’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight. I’m sure of it. You have made Cathi into a sexy, captivating character. Everyone’s going to love you.”

“Thanks.”

“Now stop blinking while I do your other eye.” The eyeliner was followed by mascara the same color. Kitty didn’t feel like false eyelashes were necessary. Craig already had pretty lashes, and with a just a little thickening and lengthening, Cathi’s eyes were captivating. “Now I’m going to do your shadow, so keep your eyes closed until I tell you.” Kitty chose to use the fake team color gold as the main eyelid color, fading out to just a dusting of glitter at the brow line, and with a hint of blue in the crease. “Okay, now open them.”

“Wow. Is that really me? You made my eyes so big! And are they twinkling?”

The last jewel in the crown was Cathi’s lips. Kitty wasn’t a big fan of lipliners, so she brushed on an even coat over the fullness of her lips, in a shade of pink to match her lips. She had her purse her lips once and blotted them with a tissue. When the color had dried, she went over it with a glittery gloss as a topcoat, to make her lips appear to sparkle and shine wetly, begging to be kissed. Both the lipstick and the gloss went into Cathi’s purse.
She whipped the smock off and had her stand up to look in the mirror. “So, how did I do? A month ago I promised that I could make you look like a cheerleader. Have I lived up to my end of the deal?”

For a brief moment, Cathi broke character. “Holy shit!” It took a moment for her to recover. “I think you may have made me too hot. No way is that gorgeous creature me!”

“I just made the outside match the inside. If you don’t win a prize, I can’t imagine what the other guy looks like.” Cathi gave Kitty a hug, but somehow instinctually knew how to do it with her face leaned away, like all women who don’t want to muss their makeup know how to do.

Cathi applied a few strategic drops of cologne, then put on her cheer jacket and got her purse, doublechecking that she had her wallet, her phone, and her keys. Kitty wished her luck and told her she’d see her later but if anything went wrong she could call.

Chapter 14: Party Hearty

Cathi drove slowly and carefully to the Sweeping Pines Tavern, not wanting to get pulled over by a cop and have to explain why she looked nothing like her driver’s license picture. She was a little late at 7:35, and the hostess showed her to the room for the Caldwell party. There were several round tables in the room set up with six chairs each, and she looked around for one that didn’t seem full yet. She approached one where some sales people were sitting Janice was a forest ranger and her husband had come dressed as a bear. They were sitting with Hannah who was a fire fighter, and her husband who was a Dalmatian. Cathi went over and stood behind an empty chair. “Excuse me, Janice. Is anyone sitting here yet?”

“Yeah, we’re waiting for Mike and his date. You’re not his date, are you?”

“Um, no. Thanks anyway.”

She looked some more and saw a table in the corner with only the IT guys sitting at it. Neither of them seemed to be wearing a costume, though. She went over to one of their empty chairs. “Excuse me, Phil. Is anyone sitting here yet?”

Phil was ready to put on his grumpy “Go away!” face, but he looked up and saw a hottie who must have been gotten lost from some other party, and swallowed his bile. “No, nobody’s sitting here. You’re welcome to join us.” But then the reality of his life hit him. “Or did you just want to take the chair away?”

“No, I wanted a seat. Thanks.” She unzipped her jacket and placed it and her purse on a chair, so that if she were sitting in it they’d be in every other chair. “I’m going to go up to the bar. You guys want anything?”

Phil said, “No thanks, I’m good.”

But Ralph looked at the nearly full beer in his hand and said “Sure, get me a draft. I’m almost due for a new one.”

“Ok.”

Ralph looked at Phil. “Who was that?”

“I don’t know. Some insanely hot chick that must have showed up at the wrong party.”

“Dude, she knew your name.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She called you ‘Phil.’ Where do you know her from?”

“Dunno.”

“With her coat off, you can see she’s dressed as a cheerleader. Maybe she’s some guy who had to dress as an athlete’s date.”

“Well, which guys were supposed to be athletes?”

Ralph pulled a folded paper out of his pocket. “Mike’s a hockey player, but I don’t think he’s here yet, and I don’t want to live in a world where a guy like him could score a chick like that. Dina’s a football player, but she’s over there and she brought a guy.”

“That’s too bad. She’d make a cool lesbian. Any other options on the list, or is she Mike’s date and you’ve got to get the razor blades?”

“Craig’s supposed to be a cheerleader. Maybe she’s his date? No — wait a minute!”

“What?”

“She knew your name. What if ‘she’ is Craig all dressed up?”

“No fucken way, man. That sweet piece of ass over there is a chick. Oh shit, she’s coming back. I wasn’t talking too loud just then, was I? If she throws your beer in my face, you’re on helpdesk all next month.”

Cathi came back to the table, oblivious to their conversation. “Here’s your beer, Ralph. I got a Cape Cod for myself. I just found out what it’s called. I’ve been drinking vodka and cranberry for a while and I asked the bartender for one, and he told me I wanted a ‘Cape Cod.’ I guess you learn something every day. Why are you guys looking at me like that? Did something happen to my hair?” She reached up and touched her ponytails to make sure they were still there.

Ralph spoke first. “Phil was trying to figure out who you were, like if you were some guy’s date, but I looked at the list and told him I’d figured it out, but he didn’t believe me.”

Phil interrupted, “You’ll have to excuse my buddy here. He’s about to insult you by saying you’re really a guy, but I know no one could possibly mistake you for a dude. Now look over there at Big Gay Steve in his naughty nurse outfit. Now that is what a guy dressing up as a chick for Halloween looks like.” Cathi looked where he was pointing and indeed saw Steve the large African-American sales agent dressed in a short nurse’s dress, with balloons for breasts and a plastic looking blonde wig; his hairy legs were shoved into teetering white heels a size too small. His date was a man in a doctor’s lab coat, with a stethoscope hanging out of it at waist level. Craig would never have guessed that Steve was gay, but suddenly felt like Steve had done the whole crossdressed Halloween thing correctly.

Cathi looked deeply into Phil’s eyes and batted her lashes. “Thank you for your confidence, but Ralph’s right.”

Ralph got a huge grin on his face. “Ha! You’re Craig from accounting, right? In your face, Phil! You’re the one on helpdesk for a month.”

“You called it, but for tonight it’s not Craig. Call me Cathi. That’s ‘Cathi’ with a C and an I.”

Phil chimed in, “Like the dog?”

“What?”

“Cathi with a Seein’ eye, like the dog?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. A moment ago I was too pretty to be a guy, and now I’m a dog?”

“No, I was making a joke. You said ‘C and I,’ which sounds a lot like ‘Seein’ eye,’ like some blind guy’s Seeing Eye dog.”

“Oh….That’s actually pretty funny! Can I use it some time?”

She laughed and flashed him a sweet smile, and he melted, even though he knew she was fake. So what if she wasn’t real? She was a hot chick and he had made her laugh. “Sure. But if you’re only Cathi for tonight, when are you going to get to use it again?”

“I don’t really know, actually.” Cathi realized that she hadn’t really thought about the plan that had her disappearing after that night, and it got her thinking odd thoughts. “So, Ralph, what gave me away?”

“You knew Phil’s name, so you had to be someone from the company, and I checked the list, and the cheerleader was supposed to be Craig. That was it. Phil’s a dumbass, but he is right. You do make a smoking hot chick!”

“Thanks. Speaking of the assigned costumes, how come you two losers came in what you wore to work today?” She waved a sexy finger accusingly.

Phil went first. He took the list from Ralph and showed it to her. “See? I’m supposed to be a prisoner. I’m under house arrest.” He stuck out his leg and lifted his pant cuff, revealing a realistic looking red ankle bracelet, with a little blinking light on it and everything.

Cathi raised her glass in a mock salute. “That’s actually pretty clever. I don’t want to ask where you got that, do I?” She looked at the list and turned to Ralph. “So where’s your costume? It says here you should be dressed as a sailor. You probably would have looked cute in a little sailor suit.”

“Well, as you can tell, we’re not on a boat. In fact, we’re in a bar. I’m even drinking. So if I’m a sailor, I must be on shore leave. Sailors on shore leave often wear their civvies.”

“You’d probably look cute in your skivvies, too.” Cathi winked at him and he choked on his beer.

He blushed beet red. “That’s not.. That’s not what I said.”

When the meal came around, Cathi had the rubber chicken, while her dining companions got the leathery steak. They still were fairly awestruck at the quality of her illusion, but they were having dinner with a pretty girl who gave as good as she got, so it was an illusion they wanted to believe.

When the waiter brought the desert around, Cathi’s eyes grew wide at the sight of little cups of chocolate mousse, and Ralph tried to get the waiter to bring the desserts for the three other people at their table so she could get more. The waiter didn’t fall for it, but the smile she gave him showed that he clearly scored some points with her. But he wasn’t sure why he was trying to score points with a girl that was really a guy. But he was attracted to her for sure; if for instance she were to agree to go out with him, he would definitely try to make a move. If she were to offer, would he pass up the opportunity to go to bed with her? Hell, no! What did that mean? Is it gay to be hot for a chick that you know is really a guy? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he was suddenly very uncomfortable. He excused himself from the table, bowing like a Japanese guy as he went in order to conceal his problem. But Phil noticed and muttered “Tell Rosie I said Hi,” as Ralph left.

Cathi enjoyed her chocolate as only a woman or an amazing facsimile of one can. Phil just enjoyed watching the enraptured expression on her face. And he scored even more points than Ralph by giving her his dessert, claiming that his doctor told him to cut down, which was a true statement, but one he’d never heeded before. He merely sipped his coffee and watched the show. When Ralph came back to eat his, he couldn’t make eye contact with either one of them.

After dessert, Estelle stood up in the front of the room, where space had been as if for a dance floor. She was wearing her best Baywatch-inspired red one-piece bathing suit, cut high on the legs and low in the front. It was cold in the room, and she was sure that all the men there knew it. She was carrying a torpedo float just like the lifeguards on TV. She kicked off her high-heeled sandals and stepped up to the microphone stand which stood there. “Ok, now we’ll have everyone who thinks they’re in the running for best presentation of their uniform’s concept will come up and do a little performance. Even though I’m not in the running, I’ll go first to show you how it works.” She took a few steps away and then came back to the microphone. “Hi, I’m Estelle and I’m a lifeguard, and this is what I do.” She put her hand over her eyes and searched the crowd. “Oh no! Someone’s drowning.” She then started running in place in slow motion, making sure to flex her pectorals and make her breasts bounce appropriately. Then she mimed swimming motions and stepped out into the sea of tables. She grabbed Jim the cute sales intern, who was wearing a boring jumpsuit, and pulled him back to the front of the room, continuing to mime swimming with her free arm. When she got him up there, she dropped her float and then laid him on the ground. She knelt over him, leaning over so her boobs were in his face and cocked her ear to his mouth. “Oh no! He’s not breathing. What should I do?” She looked confused like a bimbo, but sure enough there was a drunk in the crowd who yelled out the answer she wanted to hear: “Give him mouth to mouth!” She didn’t waste the opportunity and planted a big wet one on Jim the tasty intern, then whispered in his ear for him to cough. He made a coughing noise and she exclaimed that he was saved. She went back to the microphone. “Thank you.” There was a smattering of applause. “And thank you Jim for being a good sport. You can go back to your seat. Do I have a volunteer to go next?”

Lynne stood up. The tall redhead was even taller in her go-go boots. She went to the microphone and Estelle sat down. She’d cheated Estelle’s plan by dressing as a majorette, an outfit which let her show off her amazing legs. “Hi, I’m Lynne and I’m a marching band member, and this is what I do.” She started twirling her baton while lightly humming a marching tune. She gave it a good spin and tossed it up, catching it behind her back. A cute trick and the crown applauded nicely. “Thanks. Who’s next?”
Estelle should have made it clear that asking for the next volunteer was her job, but it was too late now.

Ken, the scrawny little intern stepped up. He wore a striped scarf and a choir robe, and had big glasses and a crayon line on his forehead. He carried a stick in his hand. “Hi, I’m Harry Potter, and I’m a private school student.” Some of the crowd laughed. “And this is what I do — Luminos!” He pressed a concealed button in his wand and the penlight inside lit up. “Thank you very much. Does anyone dare think they can beat my amazing feat of magic?”

Dina left her table and brought her boyfriend with her. The bubbly blonde was dressed in tiny shorts and a tank top with a British flag on it. She had sneakers on her feet. Her boyfriend was dressed all in green, with his bald head painted to resemble a soccer ball. Dina stepped up to the microphone and used a hideous fake accent. “Cheerio, chaps! Moy nyme is Dinah and Oy’m a football player, or as you Yanks on this side of the pond call it, soccer. And ‘ere’s what I do, by Crikey!” Her boyfriend crouched down and faced her, with his head close to the floor. She mimed kicking him in the head, and he slowly stood up, letting his head describe an arc which curved out and then hooked back toward her, She did a little marching step, as his head bounced off of her thighs, and then he bounced off of her chest and turned to the audience and waggled his eyebrows. He stood up to his full height and turned away from her, leaning back slightly. She put her finger to her lips as if to tell the audience not to tell on her and crouched down, only to stand up and smack her head into his.from beneath. He went running across the stage, pulling a large sheet of white netting from up his sleeve. He held it between his arms and stuck his face into it, shouting, “GOALLL!” Dina took her cue and ripped off her tank top, standing there in just her sports bra making a victory gesture. The male half of the audience went wild. She held the pose while her ball stood up and went to the microphone. He said, “Thanks. Anybody want to try to follow that?”

Cathi took a swig of her third Cape Cod and a deep breath. She took her pompoms out of her coat pockets and got up and went to the microphone. “Hi, I’m Cathi. (That’s Cathi with a C and an I, like the dog.)” Phil and Ralph were the only ones who got the joke. “I’m a cheerleader, and this is what I do.” She stood in front of the audience with her hands on her hips. “Ready? Okay!” She started her cadence, “Or Sales team sure has done their duty,” She swung her arms wide over the crowd, as though pointing out the sales department. “They went out there, and kicked some booty!” On “kicked,” she did a high kick and brought her pompoms around in front of her leg, to assorted oohs from the audience, and on “booty,” she turned on her hip and gave her behind a shake, gaining her a couple whistles. “Our division’s numbers are the best,” and she did a roundoff, and the women in the audience who knew how tricky it was applauded. “More than those in east and those in west.” She did a split jump with a toe touch and everyone cheered. “Now just keep our profits in the black.” Another high kick, to flash her gold panties only to cover them with her black skirt was greeted with some applause, but they probably didn’t get it. “And we’ll keep corporate off our backs.” She ended with a backflip, and went into a split on her landing, (Phil and Ralph groaned) and then raised her arms in a V and shook her pompoms vigorously. “Go Caldwell!” Most of the crowd gave her a standing ovation. She went to the microphone and said, between heaving breaths, “Thank you.”

Estelle jumped up and took the mike. “That was very nice, but I’m sorry. Only company employees are eligible for the prizes, not their guests.”

Cathi was still breathing heavy, so it took a moment, but she said “But I am an employee.” She leaned into the microphone and, in Craig’s real voice, which seemed weird for her, said “I’m your accountant, Craig Brooks.” The audience went nuts!

Cathi carefully went back to her table, but was delayed by having to high-five various ‘fans’ along the way.

Estelle had Sue circulate the ballots, but at this point it was fairly moot. Cathi swept the categories, winning for most authentic costume, best presentation, most original costume, and even the best interpretation of the ‘uniform’ concept, which netted Craig a $5000 bonus and four Lucite plaques to hang on the wall of his workspace. The only prize Cathi didn’t win was the random door prize, which went to the late arrival Mike, whose idea of a “hockey player” was a Redwings jersey and a pair of jeans.

Estelle’s feelings were mixed. On the one hand, she was shown up by not being the center of attention as the sexiest woman there, but on the other hand, neither was the floozy who took her top off.

Everyone had all kinds of questions for Cathi, and she answered them as best she could, but she really just wanted to get out of there and share her victory with the one who mattered the most. Just about everyone wanted her to stop and chat, but she went back to the table with the exiles from IT. She asked them if they had any ideas on how she could sneak out without being mobbed, and Ralph came up with a plan that was brilliant in its simplicity. All she had to do was need a restroom. Since, as a woman it would be illegal for her to use the men’s room, and as a man it would be illegal for her to use the women’s room, she would be best off going home to get a bathroom, in order to avoid any legal trouble. She was so grateful she kissed him on the cheek, and it was only until much later that he felt weird about it.

Chapter 15: Homecoming

She wasn’t sure if the exercise and the caffeine in her two desserts and a coffee were enough to counter all the drinks she’d had, so she made sure to drive extra extra slowly and carefully back to Kitty’s apartment. But she was still floating on a cloud of happiness as she glided up the stairs and knocked on her door. A strange man answered it. He was a little shorter than average, with jet black hair and dark sunglasses, and the hint of a moustache on his lower lip. He wore an old-fashioned varsity jacket and a baggy pair of jeans. His voice was gruff. “Hey Baby, where you been? I’ve been waiting for you.” He shut the door behind her and she got confused.

Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was because it was late, or maybe it was because she’d just turned blonde. It wasn’t until he grabbed her and kissed her that she realized who this mystery guy was. “Felix?”

“That’s me Sweetheart! How’s my girl? Did you have fun at your little thing?”

“It was incredible! No one knew who I was until I told them, and then I won all the prizes. All of them! I still don’t quite believe it.”

“I always knew my girl was something special. Speaking of something special, there’s a certain promise you made to me…”

“Um, Can you remind me? I’m having a blonde moment.”

“Well, remember when you promised me you’d go all the way if we won the big game?” Cathi nodded, playing along. “Well, there’s the game ball right over there.” Felix pointed at a battered football sitting on the coffee table. “You know what that mean, don’t you?”

“You won?”

“We sure did!”

“I’m so proud of you, Baby!” Cathi tried covering the face of her “boyfriend” with kisses, but he caught her face in his hands and stopped her.

“Yeah, but it just wasn’t the same without my best girl cheering me on.”

“I’m sorry.” Cathi tried to look sad, not exactly sure what was going on in this imaginary story.

“Well, I know how you can make it up to me. Come here.” He pulled her close and he kissed her again, more tenderly. He steered her so that they ended up sitting on the edge of the bed.

She put her hands up and pulled off his glasses, so she could see his eyes. “You’re not lying to me, are you? You really did win the game?”

“Sure did, Baby! You can call Smitty and he’ll tell you.” Somehow Felix’s right hand had found its way under her skirt and was lightly stroking her hip. His left was slowly working its way to her right breast.

“Smitty’s a creep. He’s always staring at my boobs.” Cathi heard a slight snort as her ad-lib almost made Felix break character.

“What can I say? The boy’s got good taste. You’ve got a magnificent set, and it makes me proud to know that I’m the only guy allowed to touch them.” She realized too late that his goal was the zipper on her top, as he got his hand in around to touch her bare back. “Hey! Where are the freaking hooks on this bra? There ain’t nothing back here.”

“You silly boy. Do I have to do everything?” She pushed him down so he was now lying completely on the bed, and kneeled straddling his lap. She reached over and pulled off her shell top and posed for him in just her bra. “Say please.”

“Oh, please, Baby. Please, please, please!”

“Good boy. And good boys get to be rewarded. She slowly pulled her bra over her head, being careful not to get it stuck in her ponytails. Felix reached up and grabbed her breasts, and she let out a fake moan of pleasure when his thumbs found her fake nipples. She sat down on his lap and felt a surprising hardness there. How far was this game going to go? “Now it’s your turn. Take off your jacket.”

“Well then you’ll have to get off me so I can stand up.”

Cathi held her naked breasts in her hands and stood up. Felix got up and unzipped his jacket. “While you’re up, can you go turn the light off? I’m too shy to do this with you watching me.” While Felix was across the room at the switch, Cathi slipped under the covers. “Stay over there a second.” He looked confused, but did as he was told. With the lights out, there was only dim twilight coming through the window. Cathi reached down and did something and then her hand came out from under the covers and dropped her shoes and socks on the floor. Felix took a step closer. “Stay a little longer.” She reached down again and came out with her skirt. He crept a little closer. “Not yet.” Once more and her cheer briefs came out. “Okay. Now before I go any further I need to know you’re not just playing me.”

“No, Baby. You’re my girl. Not just some conquest.” He dropped his pants to the floor and somehow stepped out of them and his shoes at the same time. He adjusted himself and his boxers were seriously tented. He stepped closer, wearing only t-shirt, socks and underwear. “I love you, Baby. You know that.”

Cathi pulled her boyfriend into the bed beside her. “I love you, too,“ pausing a moment as her eyes made it clear these were the words of the actor, not the role, before adding, “Felix.” She threw her arms around him and kissed deeply and passionately.

Felix’s grabby paws were on Cathi’s panties. “I’ll be gentle for you. I know this is your first time.”

“Is it true that you can’t make a baby the first time? I really don’t want to have to marry you right away. We can wait.”

“Um, yeah baby, wait, whatever. He finally found the right grip, and was sliding her panties down to her knees. She used her feet to kick them the rest of the way off. She tried to move her hand over to his shorts to find out more about what was in them but he shooed her hands away. His hands moved to start kneading her buttocks, and he rolled her on her side so she was facing away from him. He pulled a concealed tube of lubricant from his waistband and squirted some on his index finger, which began making tight circles around the target. At the center, he plunged in, and Cathi let out a surprised gasp. He started driving his finger in and out, adding a few more drops when it started feeling rough, After a while he went up to two fingers and soon she was squirming and making little happy noises. In almost no time it was very loose and slippery, and she was ready. He pulled his erection (in actuality a J-shaped strapless strap-on whose small end was held firmly inside Kitty’s kitty) out of the fly in his boxers, and lined it up. He gave a small push and he had penetrated her. He kept pushing until he was in a few inches, then backed up a little and then plunged further, repeating the process. He was worried that he was hurting her, but then she started rocking her hips along with the strokes, and her little noises got louder. By the time it got so he was sinking into her to the hilt on very thrust, neither of them had very far to go. He came first, and remained inside her at his greatest depth, holding stock still for a few moments, but then he gave a slight tremor, and that was all it took to send her to oblivion. He slipped out and then rolled her over so she was facing him.

They held one another for a while, but then Felix had to go. The ace bandage binding Kitty’s breasts down was starting to hurt. She got out of bed and unbound herself, gaining a new appreciation for the amount of time Craig spent tucked. She offered Cathi the first shot at the bathroom, since she had a little more mess to clean up. Cathi went into the bathroom and saw that Kitty had thoughtfully set things up for her. There was a disposable enema conveniently sitting on the counter, which she used to flush herself out, and a package of baby wipes next to it, so she could clean off all her sticky parts. She took off her tape, but left her breasts on. Kitty had even gone through her suitcase, since she saw her little red babydoll nightgown and robe hanging on a hook on the back of the door, so she put them on and came out. Kitty had just finished changing the sheets on the bed, and pointed Cathi at her vanity station, where she had a warm wet washcloth and a jar of cold cream, so she could take her face off. Kitty said she’d help her with her hair, so she shouldn’t do anything to it until she got out of the shower. After washing off the Old Spice and the penciled moustache and getting the temporary black coating off of her hair, she was feeling more like herself. There was only a little mess where dirty lubricant had slid down the base of Felix’s penis, so it didn’t take her very long to get clean.

While she was washing, Cathi found Kitty’s laciest nightgown and waited to hand it to her her when she came out. She put it on and they shared a few more kisses before she had Cathi sit by the mirror, and she removed first her ribbons and then the elastics, letting down her long and lovely hair. Kitty showed her a special brush made for taking care of extensions, and had her brush it all out straight. Since tangling in her sleep is a serious possibility with long hair, Kitty took the time to put Cathi’s hair in a braid to keep it from being twisted overnight.

Then it was time for bed. Cathi felt Kitty’s arms wrap around her and warm breasts press against her back as they snuggled. In that moment, Craig knew that both of these women would continue to be an important part of his life, and that feeling comforted him as he drifted off to sleep.

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Comments

Good story

I like this story. In my opinion, it was well written and goes into the steps that a first timer goes thru, when there is no boundaries, but just going with the flow.

Thank you,

Steve

awesome

Love the story, refreshing, passionate, and very very fun to read :)
R

Thank you very much

Those two comments made my day. Thanks a lot. I'm glad you appreciated what I was trying to say. Even if nobody else says anything about this story, it was still worth it. I got two comments and three votes, and I am sincerely happy.

In return, here's a little background on this story:
I originally started writing this over a year ago, aiming to use it as an entry in Sapphire's Halloween contest. That didn't happen, but I kept working on it from time to time. Then I pushed to get it into the What's So Novel consideration. I have another story I could have finished instead, but it's kind of brutal and I wanted my contest entry to be more positive.

In my original outline, it wasn't a love story. Craig was just going to be an obsessive compulsive guy who goes all-out to dress up as a cheerleader for Halloween. But then Kitty decided to sleep over that first night and my muse led me in a different direction. In its current form, I've conceived it as the first volume in a trilogy called "Three Cheers For Cathi," although I do feel it tells a complete story on its own. I'm not sure when I'll start work on the second volume. I've got a couple other incomplete large works, as well as some ideas for smaller pieces. I may try releasing my next big one piecemeal, rather than all at once, since that seems to be the way things are usually done around here.

Interesting

I found the concept interesting. The implementation had some really outstanding points, as well as some times where things seemed to drag a bit, almost as if you were just "filling it in" cause you knew it was needed.

I liked the detail you put in on what all had to be done to prepare for the "event".

Thanks for sharing.

Phrances

I'll try to do better next time.

That's a fairly astute observation. My process was a little off this time.

I started by outlining all my plot points on a calendar, marking the events that I thought were significant, and then roughed out my chapters. I had about two thirds of the final work completed on fleshing out the skeleton, but then I skipped ahead and wrote the last couple of chapters. When I did my story for the scifi contest at Stardust, I was running out of time and so the the original version I submitted had a really rushed ending and I didn't want to do that again here. But this meant that I had to go in and backfill some of the middle section, and I ran down to the wire again, so there are indeed a couple passages where I didn't get around to putting in the same level of detail as the rest of the story.

I also kept second-guessing myself about which conversations to write out as dialogue and which to summarize. I wanted enough to track the development of C&K's relationship, but not so much that the thing turned into a play. I'm not sure how well I accomplished that.

I love the story!

jengrl's picture

I love the story! It was so interesting to see how two people people from different worlds could come together and fall in love. It really brought out an interesting point about how appearances are sometimes deceiving. Craig/Cathi was so willing to become a part of Kitty's world without letting it bother him. He was adaptable to change and accepted her so completely. I think it would be interesting to see what happens the next Monday when Craig has to return to work. Hair extensions and waxed eyebrows are rather hard to hide LOL!. I think it would be interesting to see Kitty adapt to being a part of Craig's/ Cathi's world as their love grows. She could decide that she loves him enough to tone herself down and appear at social functions with him, even if he respects her enough not to ask her too. Love is about compromise and respect and this story shows that we can all learn to love and respect someone for their differences. It is a beautiful story! I look forward to reading more of your wonderful work!

PICT0013_1_0.jpg

Not the typical

... type of story I read, but I've got a soft spot for cheerleading! :P Nice flow for the most part, a little more description in some places than seemed quite natural, but not a bad way to spend 90 minutes at all. Kudos, applause, brava, and all that

Edeyn Hannah Blackeney
Wasn't it Jim Henson who said, "Without faith, I am nothing," after all? NO, wait, that was God. Sorry, common mistake to make...

Superb

Such attention to detail. No tension, no hassle, just a gentle romantic tale to make me feel warm and fuzzy all over. Thank you so much.

Susie

My favorite kind of story

This is a great story that hits all my buttons: A competent protagonist,
detailed and believable transformation, passability, workplace situations,
and even (I'd say) believable romance.

-- Moni

It's a girl's world; we just let boys live in it.

I really liked this story

I really liked this story and I'm looking forward to seeing where Cathi and Kitty go from here.

Janice

Brill

Loved this story Jennifer. Would like to see it continue, possibly with Cathi experimenting with the lifestyle image of Kitty, ie piercings and tattoos. Just a thought, but who am i? Couldnt write a story if i tried.

Nice Job

Well paced and fun. Craig/Cathi politically sounds like many of us "conservatives" who trend toward libertarian; we want people to be safe and keep things between consenting adults. I hope we can get another Cathi and Kitty adventure soon. Thanks for sharing your efforts and talents.

ready!

I'm a bit slow getting to this one, and it took several sessions to get through it due to outside interference. But I did enjoy it. Thanks.

Most enjoyable

Some nice touches in here and I feel there is cause for a sequel, owing to the fact that Craig's alter ego is right up front now and he has to go back to work.

The eyebrows will grow back and the extensions will come out - over time.

The rest of course is out of sight and hopefully out of mind, but it would be interesting to see how his colleagues dealt with such a hotty hot hotty (sorry, Emperor's New School, can't get away from it), not being quite as they thought and being a lot more forward than Craig...

NB

Well done!

A great story that takes perfectionism and single-bloody-mindedness to OCD levels! Craig spending waaaay too much time and money for what he thinks will be a single night performance (although we as readers, aware of what usually happens to protagonists in such stories, know from the moment of the first purchase that Cathi will hang around a lot longer than the Halloween party!)

Then as if Craig wasn't interesting enough, you introduce us to Kitty - the pink-haired cat-loving beautician (easier to spell and say than aesthetician) whose teenage rebellious streak hasn't diminished even slightly, and whose latest project spawns a rather unconventional romance.

The deconstruction of the trashy romance novel (Mills & Boon?) was a masterstroke.

Then the party itself, even upstaging the snooty boss :)

If your muse sufficiently motivates you to write the sequels (presumably you have/had a rough idea of a story arc), I'd certainly read them! :)

 


There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

I Always Like Coming Back to This Story

I always enjoy this story. I did the first time and every time I reread it. I like the characters and the comfort that Craig has in being Cathi. I hope to one day to read the sequels!

Please keep writing!

Great story

I really enjoyed this story when I read it, though I wasn't registered at that time.

Needs a sequel

Love the trust and love in this story, it is so powerful and palpable. But you have left our heroine in the breach. What happens next! You got me worried about Cathi and now I have no answer. Really really loved your unconventional story.

Hugs, Kristi

Kristi Lynne Fitzpatrick

Oh wow!

So,a lovely happy, non-agresive,clever,and all round delightful story is possible.I loved every minute of the time if took to read,Thank-you.XXXXXXXXXX F.

Commenting

... on this one because it's midnight already and my eyelids have grown heavy. So I comment on this so I can find it again easily in the morning. I trust some of the other commenters too. So, I'll let you know what I think tomorrow when I finish it.

I have enjoyed the first bit ....

J

Zoiks!!!

Great story! I don't know how I missed this one way back when, but I'm glad I found it now!!


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Thanks

Thank you for the nice comment!

Truly great

Lynda shermer's picture

This is a truly great story. I've read it over several times, and now that I've posted some efforts of my own, I'm going to re-read it. If I had tried writing something like this, it would not have been as long, and suffered thereby. My efforts end up shorter, and I'm going to study this to try to remedy that.

Latest_me.jpgLynda Shermer

Great second time around

After a bit of reading this I realized I had read it before, but I was inconsiderate and didn't comment. I love this kind of story, can picture myself in it (and want to). Thanks for sharing your storytelling skills with us.

>>> Kay

Thank you

It's always nice to see an old story get some love.

Also thanks to Lynda above. I didn't want to spam the system with replies.