I had barely reached the curb when a black Towncar pulled up. The rear door opened and yet another stunning woman stepped out.
"Stacy? Hey girl! I'm Rebecca Kwan, head stylist for SBI." The stunning Asian woman gave me a hug and welcomed me into the car. Unlike the professionals at the headquarters, she seemed to be the bubbliest yet. I suppose it fit her line of work.
I sat in the back seat next to the busty, leggy woman as she detailed the plan: she'd take me to a spa to get done up while she'd actually walk me through how to do the makeup and other things in the future.
"Don't worry! Nobody gets it right the first time!" She giggled as she continued on.
"Once you're done we'll take you to the mall and get you set up with cosmetics, clothes, everything you need to slay."
Rebecca had an extremely reassuring, positive way about her that made me feel almost excited about what was to come. She definitely made it feel less like I was being held hostage and made a woman against my will.
Rebecca's phone rang, and I stared idly out the car window as she answered it. I overheard "the results are tremendous" "she's gorgeous" and "yes, the mental conditioning aspects of the formula seem to be taking hold". She must have been talking about another study, I knew damn sure I was in control of my mental faculties.
The car stopped and I saw the sign that read "Westside Salon & Spa". I noticed the hours said they close at 5pm, and it was getting close to sunset.
"Private appointment, just for you, gorgeous" Rebecca beamed as we got out of the car.
I stepped out awkwardly from the car, my arms cradling the robe close to my body as I felt the breeze hit me.
Rebecca led me into the spa and I was greeting by the smiling faces of three women who had obviously been expecting me.
After some introductions, they got to work. And by got to work, I mean I got to stand naked in front of them as they measured me.
"34B", said one of the women as Rebecca took notes. I was fairly impressed with myself, I had been wearing 32B bras. I was close.
They continued to poke, prod, and measure my body as one of them gently spread my legs, tucked back my soft, seemingly useless cock, and gestured for me to close my legs again. I felt...girly.
The women went to work on my hair, shampooing, coloring, and styling as they did a full manicure and pedicure. Strange, beautiful-smelling creams were rubbed into my body as a chemical mask was applied to my face. I felt so relaxed, almost sleepy as the women went about feminizing and beautifying my body.
Finally, they applied makeup and sat me up in the chair.
I hardly recognized the woman looking back at me in the mirror: my hair was wavy and full with blonde highlights, the bulk a delicate milk chocolate brown. My blue eyes looked full and delicate with liner and dramatic lashes. My cheeks were blushing red and my lips were a full, alluring pink.
My breasts were cradled firmly in a hot pink silk bra, and the matching panties were smooth in the front, no sign of my male genitalia. And they felt...I moved a little in the seat.
"Baby's first thong" Rebecca said with the adoring tone a mother might make at her child reaching a milestone.
Yes, I felt the unmistakeable feeling of a thong gently riding the line of my ass crack, my cheeks exposed.
The women asked me to stand up and check out myself in the mirror. I admit I did look really nice. They handed Rebecca my measurements and slid me into a little black dress before stepping me into some heeled shoes. They gave me a lesson on how to walk in heels and I gave it a try.
The hollow click of my shoes on the floor felt sexy, but not as sexy as how the posture of my backside changed. I knew my ass was on display, and my hormones were reacting accordingly. The reaction made me blush.
Rebecca thanked the women, who waved excitedly as we left.
I awkwardly clambered out of the salon, walking in a fashion that must've looked like a baby deer, as Rebecca walked ahead of me and turned around.
"Stacy's first makeover! Girl, you look phenomenal! We're going to do a little bit of shopping now that we know your sizes! The boutique is just a couple blocks, so we're going to walk!" The gorgeous stylist gave a knowing smile as we continued down the street.
I strode nervously down the street, self-conscious as can be walking in heels in a dress. The fact I was out in public presenting as a woman was very present on my mind.
After the first block, those feeling started to subside as I got my stride down. The feeling of the heels helping my ass perk up and sway just right made me feel turned on again. I looked up and noticed guys checking me out. Guys. Checking me out. I could feel the stares on my ass and body as we waited to cross the next block.
And I...I liked it? The emotions in me conflicted deeply as we reached the closed down boutique. The door opened for us and the staff greeted us expectingly, just as the spa before.
I have to admit, SBI knows how to make me feel like a princess.
The boutique was wall-to-wall dresses, with drawers filled with panties and bras. It was like if a Victoria's Secret also focused on outerwear.
Rebecca was like a kid in a candy store, picking out sexy, strappy panties and push up bras with "oooo!" and "cuuuuute!" her favorite phrases. She didn't bother to even hold items up to me, let alone try them on, as she piled them up in the arms of one of the staff.
I saw dresses in all colors, sundresses, and lots of bras and panties, as well as some shoes and sandals in the pile. Another basket held an array of cosmetics.
When she was done, she turned to the staff and said "that should do, we're only needing enough for roughly four weeks, and then we'll do the same at the other location."
I had no idea what she meant, but I was definitely swept up in the excitement of how I was being treated. Rebecca checked out, swiping a metal black credit card and instructing the staff to deliver everything to my apartment. I had no idea where they would put it all, nor did I care.
Rebecca grabbed my arm and said "now it's time for your big debut! We're going clubbing, girl, and SBI is picking up the bill for us girls."
Her exuberance was intoxicating as she steered me to the left and we walked down the street. The stares and head turning from the men once again affected me as it combined with the click of my heels on the sidewalk and the exposed swish of my thonged ass in the tight dress to deliver a new kind of arousal to my mind and body.
My lovely counterpart steered me into a small club with a neon sign that said "Flamingos" in bright pink. We got in line and waited our turn with the bouncer. The thrum of the electronic music inside gave a muted party environment even to the outside as I nervously stood next to my beautiful guide.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Rebecca exclaimed. She opened her purse and handed me something.
"Congrats, girlie!" she said with an electric smile as I realized it was a drivers license. One that said Stacy Ann Michaels.
It had my address and vitals but the photo was definitely me from today, and the gender was very much female.
"How-...I won't even ask" I said as I presented the new ID to the bouncer. He scanned it finally, blacklit it, and let me in. I gazed at it again and the age said 21.
