by D. L. Savage
“Okay, follow me,” she said, pushing herself up off the couch and striding towards the staircase.
I gulped nervously then followed her, unable to tear my eyes away from the perfect globes of her ass, teasing me as she walked up the stairs, her butt jiggling in her tight black yoga pants, the faint outline of a thong just visible through the skintight spandex.
She led me into her room and the moment I set eyes on the outfit laid out on her bed, complete with wig, I knew that it was for me.
All the air felt like it was knocked from my lungs as I stared at my costume, heart booming, head spinning, taking it in piece by piece.
A long blonde wig, glossy and wavy, with a slinky pink mini skirt and white silk blouse, a matching white bra and thong, white hold up stockings and even a pair of heels – the same hot pink as the skirt, and seemingly in my size.
“I did a little shopping for you this week, Davina,” Lisa said in a teasing voice. “I hope you like your new outfit. Because that’s what you’re going to be wearing tonight, when you come with us to Ladies Night.”
If I felt shocked before, it was nothing compared to the feeling I experienced in that moment.
“Oh, Lisa, no,” I croaked, shaking my head at the thought.
“Oh yes,” she spat back. “You want me to tell your wife what you did, sissy? I’ve got the evidence right here in this fucking room. You stretched out my stockings and panties, and even got some of your pathetic cum on my clothes during your little play session.”
“But she’ll know the moment she sees me,” I groaned. “What’s the point? She’ll find out either way.”
“Oh no she won’t,” Lisa teased, a strange glint in her eye now. “I promise that when I’m through with you today, Davina, nobody is going to recognize you ...”
7
Lisa seemed to have a whole plan set out for me, and I followed her instructions to the letter – not daring to answer back, just hoping to God that she meant what she said and that when she was finished with me, Joanie really wouldn’t recognize me.
First she got me to strip off. As in, everything. As I pushed down my boxer shorts, I felt a little ashamed, partly because I’d grown hard despite myself and also for her to see first hand just how small and pathetic my dick was – five inches at most.
“Oh, poor Joanie!” Lisa giggled when she saw it. “No wonder she’s so wound up and frustrated all the time.”
And even though I knew that nothing sexual would ever happen between Lisa and I, I still found myself getting turned on by her cruelty and insults, as fucked up as that sounds.
Next she told me to go take a shower, and once I was done, she handed me a razor and a can of foam.
“Go on, sissy,” she instructed. “Shave yourself ... everywhere.”
Again, I did just as I was told, actually making a pretty good job of my latest task. I’d never been particularly hairy to begin with – just a fuzz of browny-blonde hair on my legs and my balls, and a little under my arms.
Lisa actually found it funny when she realized my chest was hairless. “Of course it is,” she teased.
Then she made me turn around and bend over, so that she could shave the last bit of fuzz from my ass cheeks.
“Oh yes, that pretty little asshole is going to get some action tonight,” she murmured to herself as she shaved me, and I felt a pang of shock at her words.
“Wait, what kind of place is it?” I asked.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she laughed. “Now shut up and let me finish.”
So again I fell silent as Lisa shaved me. Once we were done, she led me back into the bedroom and sprayed me with a ton of perfume – a strong, sweet, candy-like scent that clung to my bare, tingling skin.
“Now the makeup,” she announced, rubbing her hands together with glee. “You sit here in front of me like this and don’t move.”
I did as I was told, sitting in front of Lisa and closing my eyes as she got to work. It took her almost an hour, and during that whole time I sat completely still and silent. She seemed to be enjoying what she was doing – getting totally engrossed in it – and I just hoped to hell she was doing a good job.
It felt strange but not unpleasant to have my face slowly coated in makeup – powder, foundation, blusher, lipstick, lip-liner, mascara, eye shadow, the works. And despite everything, I even found myself kind of enjoying the attention Lisa was paying me. It felt like a long time since anyone had actually looked at me so closely, and I began to imagine my new feminine face emerging, coaxed on by Lisa’s occasional murmurs to herself, all of which sounded positive.
“Okay, all done,” she said. “But before you look, let me put your hair on, too.”
I stayed where I was as she first fitted a cap over my own shaggy hair, tucking it all tightly away against my skull, and then she returned with the wig. It felt heavy and warm as it fitted over my skull and I felt the glossy ends dancing against the bare skin of my shoulders.
“Oh my god,” she gasped, stepping back, her face flashing in a wide genuine smile. “That looks even better than I was hoping. Take a look, Davina!”
I turned to the mirror, gasping at what I saw.
The transformation was incredible. Lisa was right – no one would recognize me. Not even I did! I looked like a totally hot, slutty chick – exactly like the very same kinds of girls I’d fantasized about back in high school. And crazy as it sounds, I actually felt my cock growing hard, just looking at myself.
“Right, now put on your outfit ...”
I actually shivered with anticipation as I began to dress myself in the clothes Lisa had selected. The silky stockings felt so amazing gliding smoothly against my bare skin, and the thong felt awesome too, cupping my balls so snugly and keeping my hard little cock pressed tight against my belly.
For a moment I worried that the bulge would show, but Lisa must have selected the outfit with that in mind because the way the miniskirt pressed it tight and the way the hem of the silk blouse hung down over it kept it completely hidden from view.
Next came the bra. Lisa had filled the cups with some kind of fake silicone breast implants that quickly molded to my chest as I put it on, really giving the illusion that I had a pair of small yet perky tits beneath my blouse. They even jiggled a little when I moved, just like the real thing.
“Good, very good,” Lisa said. “Now, we only have a few hours until Joanie comes home from work. And you know how we’re gonna spend that time?”
“No,” I replied weakly, feeling utterly powerless to stop this train of events now, knowing I was fully at her mercy.
“We’re going to spend it teaching you how to walk, talk, act and even think like the slutty little bitch you are. Understand?”
8
The afternoon zoomed by in a blur. Lisa taught me how to sway my hips when I walked, how to sit demurely, and even how to rest my hands in my lap. Talking was harder – I had a naturally deep voice and no matter what we tried, neither of us could figure out a way for me to speak and make it sound realistic. So instead, Lisa devised a Plan B. I was to be her Russian friend Davina – a girl she’d only met a couple of times. The story was, I understood English but still had trouble speaking it.
And once we’d got that figured out, the last part was the strangest. Because it seemed Lisa was enjoying this whole kinky situation just as much as me, coming up with a whole set of ‘sissy rules’ that she’d devised, telling me sternly that if I broke any of them at any point throughout the night, she’d tell Joanie the truth. But if I stuck to the rules and got to midnight, then she promised not to tell a soul.
“Rule number one,” she instructed, hands on hips, obviously enjoying playing the part of the strict and cruel mistress, “you are not to touch your cock at any point throughout the night, no matter how horny you get. Not even a little rub through your skirt or panties. You understand me, slut?”
I nodded.
“Rule number two, from now until midnight you
are Davina. You think like Davina. And all Davina likes is big hard cocks. Got it?”
Again I nodded, feeling my horniness building as Lisa said big hard cocks.
“And rule number three? Until the end of the night, you’re to think of me as your mistress and if I tell you to do something, you do it.”
Before we knew it, five o’clock was approaching – which was when Joanie would be returning from work.
Lisa said not to worry about Joanie – she’d cover for me, saying I’d already gone out to meet my work buddies. She gave me the address of the club and advised that I drive to the neighborhood now, pick something up to eat if I was hungry, but just to get out of the house and she’d meet me at the club at nine pm sharp.
“Well then? What are you waiting for, slut?” she hissed, dangling my car keys at me. “And here’s a purse with a little spending money.”
I took the keys and the purse, my whole body pulsing with nervous anticipation. It was one thing to practice walking and acting like a girl in the privacy of the bedroom, but to actually step out of my own front door like that? In broad daylight no less?
“Davina,” Lisa hissed, when she noticed I was still deliberating. “What did I say? Rule number three – if I tell you to do something, you do it.”
I nodded quickly, not wanting to anger my cruel new mistress. And so, with my head held high and my shoulders pushed back just as she’d taught me, I began to descend the staircase, trying most of all to stay upright in my heels.
I could feel the miniskirt stretching tight around my thighs and ass as I walked, not to mention the thong cupping my balls and resting between my cheeks. I could feel my breasts softly bouncing, and I could smell the sweetness of my perfume.
As I reached the front door, I called to mind the image in the mirror again – that slutty sexy girl, who looked nothing at all like me. If any neighbors were watching, it would be her they saw stepping out of the front door of my house, perhaps some friend of Lisa’s or Joanie’s.
With a deep breath, I stepped out. Out into the daylight ...
9
It was only a few feet between the front door and the car, but it felt like a mile. I’d never felt more exposed, more aware of my body, of the tingling of my skin, or the beating of my heart, as if every nerve inside me was set alight with sensation as I made my way towards the car.
I kept my movements fluid and graceful, just like Lisa had taught me, swinging my hips, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, just like a catwalk model, until I’d reached the driver’s door.
I opened it and quickly slipped inside, making sure to stay demure, keeping my legs together as much as possible.
And then, after a quick sigh of relief, I began to drive to the neighborhood Lisa had instructed, which was down by the waterfront, an area I never normally went to.
As I drove, I felt my nervousness and excitement increase in equal measure. Could I really get away with this? Would my transformation really be enough to fool Joanie? After all, we’d been together for over twelve years – she knew everything about me. But then again, I reminded myself just what a good job Lisa had done. I’d been in this body for thirty-one years and even I didn’t recognize myself when I looked in that mirror.
Once I was about a block away from where the club was located, I pulled up and sat in the car for a while wondering what to do next. I looked at the clock on the dash – still nearly four hours until I was supposed to meet Lisa at the club. My stomach was growling; after all, I’d only eaten breakfast. I remembered what she’d said, that I should grab something to eat somewhere, and I knew that I should. There’d no doubt be alcohol at this place tonight, and I didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach and get wasted and give the game away.
But could I really go out into the daylight like this? And how the hell was I supposed to order something when I couldn’t even speak in a feminine voice? I deliberated for a while, until hunger got the better of me, and so – with a sigh – I stepped out of the car, locked it, and began to walk, hearing the click of my heels on the sidewalk, hoping to hell I was convincing enough not to attract any attention.
Yet I’d only walked a block or so when I heard something – a male voice, calling, “Hey, baby! Over here!”
I stopped and turned, and there were three guys on the other side of the street, all waving at me, grinning.
Inside, I was a total wreck, just hoping to hell they didn’t laugh or jeer or call me out. But outwardly, I played it cool, as if someone else was taking over – a sexy confident girl, who flashed them a quick smile then turned, her hair flicking around her shoulders as she strutted on down the sidewalk, her heart flashing with glee as she heard them whistle behind her.
Holy shit. They really thought I was a girl!
It gave my confidence a boost, and by the time I came to a coffee shop a block or so further along, I found myself striding in, not caring about the attention I drew. I could feel every eye in the place on me as I headed toward the counter, but I knew it was all positive attention, that the girls were looking at me enviously, while the guys were lusting over me.
“Can I help you?” the girl at the counter smiled sweetly.
And without a sound, I pointed at the first thing I saw, a ham and cheese sandwich in the counter.
“Great,” the girl said. “You want to eat that in?”
I nodded, smiling, and as she began to ring it through the register I took out the correct money from my purse.
This was easier than I thought! I took the sandwich and strutted over to a table in the corner, pleased with myself for having passed this first test. Because if I could walk into a coffee shop in broad daylight without anyone wrinkling their nose in disgust at me, then I was sure to pass as a girl by the time night fell and I had to enter the club.
I sat down and began to eat, taking small dainty bites so as not to ruin my makeup. I figured I’d just hang out here for as long as I could; it seemed pretty quiet and the girl at the counter had been friendly, so I didn’t think she’d make me leave in a hurry.
Now I just had to wait.
Wait for tonight ...
10
I hung out in the coffee shop until it got dark, watching the clock on the wall. Just as I’d hoped, the girl behind the counter didn’t ask me to leave, and eventually it was almost nine o’ clock.
I felt my heart begin to boom as I pushed myself back to my feet and walked out into the darkness, then down the street toward the club. As I approached the large, dark building, at first it looked nothing more than some kind of warehouse, not quite what I’d been imagining. But as I got closer, I started to see telltale signs that something else was going on.
For a start, the windows were all blacked out. And I could hear the soft yet insistent pulsing of music coming from inside – maybe not quite as loud as a nightclub, but easily as loud as a bar. And I could hear the occasional burst of laughter, too – feminine laughter – emanating from inside.
I turned the corner, seeing a small roped off doorway, with two imposing looking men in black suits standing either side of a plain black door. No sign. Nothing. A second later, the security guard’s eyes locked onto mine and a jolt of panic flashed through me.
This was it.
Would he let me inside?
But his stern face broke into a smile as I got nearer, and after looking me up and down, all he said was, “Have a good night.”
He pushed open the door, revealing a burst of bright purple lights and swarming figures within.
I smiled back sweetly, then headed inside, the door closing behind me as I took in the scene, my heart pounding and my eyes widening as I looked around in total amazement.
Because everywhere I looked were cute, sexy women – all dressed in the kinds of slutty, tight-fitting clothing that I was wearing, all with bright, over the top makeup, all with amazing glossy hair, laughing and dancing and drinking. And weaving in amongst them were guys – nude guys – carrying trays of dr
inks.
And these weren’t just any guys either; to a man they were built, tall and muscular, their bodies oiled and hairless, their faces rugged and handsome, their cocks fully hard.
It was insane. The girls were obviously getting hot, stealing glances, giggling and whispering amongst themselves, but no actual action was taking place that I could see. It was like some busy bar, only with added hard-ons.
And the more I looked, the more I could feel my own cock straining in my panties, still strapped tight, throbbing and aching against my stomach as I watched the scene unfold.
“Davina!” a voice behind me called, breaking me out of my horny thoughts.
I turned around and there they were, Lisa and Joanie.
My stomach flipped over on itself, a sharp pang of panic shooting right through me as my own wife set eyes on me dressed like this. Surely she’d know. But her face just remained fixed in a bright friendly smile, as Lisa made the introductions.
“Davina, this is my sister Joanie,” she said warmly, “and Joanie, this is Davina. She’s the girl I was telling you about. The Russian one who’s still working on her English. She’s a little shy but don’t worry, she’s a lot of fun, too!”
“Pleased to meet you,” Joanie said, holding out her hand toward me, the hand I’d held so many times, her wedding ring glittering on her finger.
I just smiled sweetly and shook her hand, hoping she didn’t pick up on the clamminess of my palm.
“Well, ladies,” Lisa announced, “let’s get a drink!”
She looked around her then waved over one of the guys with the trays. He was tall and handsome, with an olive complexion and dark hair, Spanish maybe. And as he walked towards us, I couldn’t help but let my eyes stray down to his rock hard cock, jutting up from between his muscular thighs.