Related Free Sites - PopUp Free!
Fetish Sex Toys | BDSM World | The Fetish Exchange

Back




Archive-name: Changes/nitynite.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Nity Nite





    "Reeeyullly, Jack," she said, drawing out the "really" like the Valley 

Girl that still lived inside her slender but reeyullythirtysomething  

body, "You can't stay for the lingerie party. Go bowling with the boys or 

something...Naughty Nightie parties are for girls only."

    "C'mon," I protested, "I've been working every night this week, and I 

really wanted to just spend an evening relaxing at home...reeyully."

    "Really, Jack,"she said, easing off on the Valley intonation now.."How 

could you relax with a bunch of giggling, tittering women in the next 

room, even if you could stay here?"

    "Tittering? Now that does sound interesting" I teased.  "Isn't that at 

least half, or more precisely, two-thirds of what naughty nighties are all 

about?  And what makes you think I'd want to stay in the next room 

watching the tube, when I could join the tittering, watching the boobs?"

    "Bad puns will get you nowhere," she said, and countered with what she 

was sure was a one-hundred percent airtight put-off: "The only way you're 

going to stay for this party is if you're decked out like the Queen Mary."

    I paused as if I reeyully had to think this one over, looked stage 

left and stage right as if seeking counsel from two invisible advisors, 

and then let it go: "Okay..You're on," I said, waiting for the reaction.

    Whenever I think I've tricked Carol into conceding an argument by 

agreeing to something I'm sure she never thought I'd agree to, it always 

turns out that SHE's set ME up.  I could tell by the look in her eye that 

she'd done it again.

    "Gotcha!" she popped, revealing that she'd planned it this way from 

the start.

    "HumnaHumnaHumna," I muttered, slapping my forehead and rolling my 

eyes skyward like Ralph Cramden and "the Meathead" combined.

    "Cut the bad impressions," said Carol. "The real sitcom is about to 

begin. Haul your buns out of that chair, go and shave really close, and 

get into the shower.  You've got to get ready to get 'into character' for 

the show...and don't forget to shave those hairy legs."

    "B-b-b-b-but!" I pretended to protest, as she pushed me toward the 

bathroom.

    "And I'll be there in a while to help you shave whatever else needs 

shaving, unless you're smart enough to figure out what that might be."

    Feigning reluctance, I shuffled off to the shower. Not being a total 

dummy, after shaving my face and neck, AND my legs,  I shaved down my 

chest a bit, so that no chest hairs would show in an ordinary neckline. 

"Not nearly enough," said Carol, stepping into the shower with me. 

"Armpits, guy...we girls don't walk around with those grotty clumps of 

hair under our arms...here, I'll do it," she said, taking the razor from 

me.  I thought it would be tricky shaving my armpits, but in no time at 

all those "grotty clumps" were gone...and all the rest of my chest hair, 

too.  "Let's see how you did with those legs," she said, letting her soapy 

breasts brush against my now-erect cock as she crouched down in front of 

me and wrapped her arms around me.

    "Wait a minute, you're shaving my buns," I complained. "Who's going to 

see THEM?"

    "Don't complain," she said. "How can you get 'in character' if you 

don't feel entirely feminine?  And we can't have this thing sticking out 

once you're 'in character'," she observed, looking my erect cock in the 

eye. "We'll have to take measures to keep this down for a while...at least 

until you're in costume," she said, wrapping her lips around its head, 

making it MUCH bigger, before it got much smaller. How could I complain?

    I don't know how she did it, but while I was in the paroxysms of 

ecstacy, she'd managed to trim my bush so that it looked just like 

hers...well, almost.  Talk about sneaky feminine wiles.  Me and my 

now-hairless balls would have to show her a thing or two...or had she 

ALREADY seen a thing or two?  Oh well, I'll get her later, I thought.



    A quick blast of cold water suddenly hit me, making my depleted cock 

and balls shrink still further.  "Here, dry off," she said, handing me a 

towel. "You've got to be dry before we can moisturize."

    "Huh?" I responded to that bit of feminine illogic, as she rubbed me 

down with whatever fragrant stuff it was that made her even tastier.  Not 

so oddly, I was looking forward to being just as tasty as she was. And 

getting into the mood of things, I took the bottle of moisturizer and 

started rubbing the fragrant liquid on her breasts, saying "Yes deah, we 

rahlly must moisturize, mustn't we?"

    "Later for that," she said, leading me into the bedroom by my handle, 

which was now barely large enough to get a grip on.

    "Easy on that," I complained, "I may need this thing again."

    "You will," she agreed, "but much later in the evening.  Until then 

we've got to keep it as invisible as possible." "Let me see now..." she 

said as she went rummaging through one of those dresser drawers filled 

with indescribables. "This should do it!" she said as she retrieved a pair 

of those little skin-colored adhesive half-bra cups that are made for the 

ultimate plunging neckline. Seeing that I was obviously puzzled, Carol 

explained, "Not for your boobs, dummy! Spread your legs a bit." She 

applied extra spirit gum to the bra cups, and then stuck the two of them 

together along their top edges. Glued together like that, they bore an 

amazing resemblance to a shaved pussy.

    "Looks like a pussy," I observed brightly.

    "Up yours," she countered, pushing my balls up out of sight with my 

cock pulled back over them. In the middle of my amazement over how easily 

it could all be tucked away, she capped my diminished essentials with the 

glued-together pair of bra cups. It was, in a manner of speaking, a master 

stroke. It stuck fast and held neatly. Looking down at myself, it looked 

to ME like I'd suddenly become female. Carol held a hand-mirror so that I 

could have a better look, like a hairdresser showing me my new "do".  

"With a little makeup, it'll be perfect!" she said. I couldn't believe it: 

I was about to get my crotch made up. What a make-over!

    I was really getting into this, as she glued a pair of reeyully 

convincing breasts to my chest. "Where did you get these?" I asked, "They 

can't be yours...you've never needed them."

    "They were. I was late to develop, and really self-conscious about it. 

But I don't need them anymore, and they're yours now."

    Except for the very edges, they looked like the genuine article(s). 

They bounced nicely (I couldn't resist jiggling "my" tits), they matched 

my skin color, and they had such nice rosy nipples. I couldn't resist 

pinching them...I almost felt the squeeze!

    "Don't worry about the edges," she said, "A little Dermablend will 

cover that nicely." And it did. They really looked real, reeyully! My very 

own boobs!

    "On the bed, on your back, knees up" Carol directed.

    "What is this, a gynecological exam?" I clowned.

    "When I'm done, you may be able to pass one," she said, applying more 

Dermablend and makeup color to my "pussy".  "How's this?" she asked, 

holding the hand mirror so I could see the finished work.

    "Incredible!" I said, "It looks good enough to eat!"

    "I was thinking the same thing," she said, "but layyyyyter." " Now 

it's time to pick out your wardrobe," she said, turning to the dresser 

filled with all those delectable little underthings.

    "Since you're a new woman, I think we'll go with with virginal white, 

although you may not qualify by the time the evening's up," she said, 

handing me a pair of lacey white nylon bikini panties. "Here, step into 

these. Don't worry about the makeup smearing...it's waterproof, 

hypoallergenic, AND it has a great fragrance, too."

    "But how does it taste?" I wisecracked as I pulled the panties up my 

smooth legs. I loved the feel of the cool white nylon sliding over my 

equally smooth buns. I could see why women liked wearing these things, and 

I began to consider the possibility of wearing them all the time, not just 

tonight. I even liked the lace trim around the leg openings and the 

ruffled stretch lace waistband...and the little pink bows at the hips, 

too. Being feminine is really nice, I decided...reeyully.

    "We have a bra to match," she said, as she threaded my arms through 

the straps of an absolutely stunning little front-hook push-up number 

whose half-cups were topped by wispy lace that barely concealed "my" 

nipples. I had been so enthralled putting on my panties that I hadn't 

noticed that Carol had already put on panties and bra that matched the 

ones I was wearing.

    I couldn't resist comparing notes: "My boobs are just as nice as 

yours," I said, "but don't you think you should show a little less nipple? 

We're beginning to look like sisters, and I'm beginning to feel a bit  

protective."

    "Your the one that's going to need to be protected," she said, "and 

remember, there are only going to be girls at the naughty nightie party, 

so be a good girl. You haven't met Laura, the woman who sells the 

lingerie, but some of the girls you've met from my office will be here, so 

you've reeyully got to make sure they don't recognize you.  'Jack' is out 

bowling tonight, and you're his twin sister Jackie, who's visiting us from 

down South...got that?"

    "Got it," I said, as she fastened a white lace garter belt around my 

waist - it was a great match for the panties and bra I was wearing.

    "Let's stick with a neutral beige for the nylons," she said, "Here, 

watch how I put them on so that you won't snag them...and keep those seams 

straight."

    I watched carefully, especially since this was something I always 

enjoyed watching.  Even though I'd never done it before, I knew EXACTLY 

how to put them on...I just hadn't imagined how great it would feel to 

have my legs hugged by those long silky stockings. It was a delight that 

they were long enough to completely cover my thighs. Carol adjusted the 

straps on my garter belt so that they'd stay up snugly. What a wonderful 

feeling it was, especially to be able to slide one smooth leg against the 

other! How do women get through a day without getting excited about how 

feminine they are?

    Carol could tell what I was thinking from the dreamy look in my eyes: 

"I know how wonderful it feels," she said, "and I always wanted you to be 

able to share it with me. I just KNEW you'd love it!"

    "What can I say," I sang, "I enjoyyy...be-ing a girl!"

    "Good," said Carol, "but we'll have to work on your voice. Remember 

that little Southern twang that Dustin Hoffman used for 'Tootsie'? That 

will probably be easy for you to do, and more convincing than anything 

else we can manage in just a couple of hours.  Try to practice speaking 

that way while we finish dressing."

    "Sho 'nuff, honey," I mimicked.

    "Careful now," Carol said, "you may wind up sounding more like Flip 

Wilson's 'Geraldine', and we don't want to offend any of the black girls 

who are going to be at the party."

    "You wouldn't have a Tina Turner wig for me, would you?" I asked, only 

half kidding.  I've always thought that Tina Turner is one great lady, and 

I was beginning to feel jealous of her legs.

    "Not exactly, but it will be bouffant though...after all, Jackie, 

y'all are from the South where big hair is still big.  Actually, it's one 

of my wigs from the Seventies...and I think that a nice bright stretch 

Lycra minidress would be just the thing to go with it...also one of my 

relics from the Seventies!"

    I remembered her in that dress from when we were first dating, and 

dropping into my best "Tootsie", I drawled, "Would thayut be the shahny 

rayud dress, honey?...Ayyund was thayut a weeyug y'all was wearin'?...Ah 

thawt Ah took awf evathin' y'all was wearin' thayut naht."

    "Evathin' but thayut," Carol replied, picking up the drawl, "Thayut 

weeyugg held on REAL good!"

    "A-mazin'," I said, "Ah nevah woulda thawt it!"

    Sure enough, she produced that dress out of a garment bag in the 

walk-in closet. I thought it had long ago made the trip to the Goodwill 

box, but it still looked like new.  I was really glad to see it again.

    "I became a woman with that dress, Jackie," said Carol, "and so will 

you.  Put on this little half-slip, and then slip into the dress so that 

we can do your makeup."

    I hate to admit that although my fanny's cute and nicely rounded from 

going to Jazzercize classes with Carol, my hips aren't nearly as well- 

rounded as hers, despite all those leg lifts.  To think that I used to 

worry that those exercises were making me shaped like a woman! But the 

stretchy red dress did show off my buns nicely, and I just loved that lacy 

little half-slip tickling my legs.

    Carol picked out a pair of red patent leather shoes with 2-1/2" heels 

to go with the dress. "Try these," she said, "I'd love to give you higher 

heels, but you shouldn't be too much taller than me, and 4" heels are the 

tallest I've got for myself. If your shoes are too tight we'll use a 

little shoe stretch on them."

    Although the nylons made it easy to slide into the shoes, they were a 

bit tight, so Carol wet them with a bit of the shoe stretch solution, and 

I could feel the shoes become more comfortable in just a few seconds. 

    "Walk around in them while I select makeup for you," said Carol, "it 

will help them stretch enough. We don't want your feet to spoil the 

evening for you." If they'd been higher heels, I might have had 

difficulty, but this was EASY. I pranced around, wiggling my little ass 

for all it was worth. This was really FUN. Carol broke into a broad grin: 

"You're going to LOVE this night, I can see that.  But as good as you 

look, you still need makeup, the wig, and some jewelry."

    I'd never sat at Carol's makeup mirror before, but it all seemed 

completely natural now. The last traces of masculinity vanished under a 

subtle cover of Dermablend with just the right accents of blush and 

shadow. I blushed...my true femininity was being revealed.

    "Remember those green-tinted contact lenses you bought as a joke?" 

said Carol, "I'll bet they'd look perfect now."  I had to agree, and 

tottered off to get them. I'd only kept them as a spare pair, but when I 

put them on and looked in the mirror, I was amazed...I was one sultry 

broad!  "Ready for the eyeshadow!" I called out.

    "Eyelashes first," said Carol, "You Southern girls like lots of 

eyelash."

    "Just don't overdo it," I said, sitting back down in front of the 

mirror. "I don't want to look like a hooker. Jack would be embarrassed if 

his sister looked tacky."



    "Don't worry, Jackie dear," said Carol, "I'll get it just right." And  

sure enough she did - just the right emphasis on the eyelashes, just the 

right amount of mascara, just the right tint of green and silver eyeshadow 

- the woman was truly an artist. I was jealous!...but I would learn.

    False fingernails were next, and I was equally amazed by how easily 

they went on, and how with the right silvery red polish, they became MINE, 

like I'd been taking care of them for months.  Carol then returned to my 

face, finishing her work with a luminous pale red lip gloss, and lowered 

the bouffant auburn wig over my head. God, I was lovely!  "Is it possible 

that I have the hots for myself?" I asked Carol.

    "Could be," she said. "I know I do!...but later for that - we still 

still have your debut ahead of us," she said as she spiked my earlobes and 

put in a pair of glittery pendant earrings.

    "Ouch....and ouch!" I complained.

    "Don't worry", Carol said, they're all sterilized, and you'll forget 

the sting in about a minute. And if you don't want to keep them, the holes 

will heal up overnite if we don't put studs in to keep them open.

    "Don't want to keep them?" I said. "I think they're great."

    "Okay, finishing touch," said Carol. "How's this necklace?" she asked, 

looping a long dangly creation around my neck and clasping it behind.

    "I love it! It's perfect!" I said.

    "Okay," she said, "Just remember to keep it from falling into your 

cleavage...that never looks good."

    Cleavage! I'd been so involved with the way my face was evolving, I 

hadn't even realized that I had a nicely exposed decolletage. Wow! They 

were lovely - they looked so REAL. I couldn't resist cupping them in my 

hands.

    "You're getting preocupied with yourself," Carol cautioned. It wasn't 

until then that I realized that while tending to me, she'd also managed to 

get herself completely dressed, in an electric-blue dress similar to the 

one I was wearing. It was easy for her, of course, but she was stunning! 

Were we ever an eye-popping pair of dolls!





    "Woman's work is never done," Carol admonished. "You've got to help me 

get the place ready...Laura will be here any moment, and the girls will 

start arriving soon. Moving some furniture in heels should be good 

practice."

    I'd always ducked these party preparations before, but this time I 

really pitched in. I was eagerly anticipating the evening to come, and I 

wanted everything to be just right. We knew that there would be a model to 

show how the lingerie looked on (I was certainly looking forward to THAT), 

so we removed the coffee table from the living room and replaced it with a 

low carpeted platform that we usually used for sit-ups and other exercises 

- it would be perfect as a runway for the model!  Carol, who thinks of 

everything, replaced all the white light bulbs in the living room with 

rose-tinted ones, and dimmed the lights down. "Not just for the 

atmosphere," she explained, "You're going to be in close contact with 

about a dozen women, and if they look too closely, they'll think you're 

wearing too much makeup. You wouldn't want them to think you were 

overdoing it, would you?" I had to agree with her, and I was greatful that 

she'd expressed it that way...with no offense to my femininity.

    We'd barely finished setting out the wine and cheese when the doorbell 

rang. "Don't forget that sweet Southern accent," said Carol, "and don't 

overdo it either." I cleared my throat, and breathed "Hi, y'all" a few 

times until it sounded right...or do I mean "raht?"

    Ah was bayerly satisfahd wiyeth mah voice when Carol opened the door 

to let in Laura, a tall, raven-haired beauty with a gay smile - and two 

enormous traveling cases. Carol introduced me as her sister-in-law, 

"Jackie", and I breathed a too-sexy "Puleezed to meetcha all", as I took 

one of the cases - expressing the proper degree of exertion - and led 

Laura into the living room. We set down the cases, and I poured a glass of 

Chablis for each of us. Looking straight into Laura's eyes as I handed her 

the glass, I could see that I'd easily passed the first test: Laura was 

still smiling at me, but the smile had hardened, and I could tell that she 

viewed me as competition.  "Interesting..." I thought - at a gathering 

with no men. Could she be jealous of my being there with Carol?

   

TO BE CONTINUED...



--



Back

See All Our Feature Hardcore Sites!
Fetish Club, 1 Asian Porn, Fetish Cinema , XRated TV , V Girl, Massive Hardcore