House-sitting

Another lost story by "N"

It was hard to believe that Frank even remembered me; sure, we had been friends at school but I hadn’t heard from him in nearly 5 years. The telephone call was therefore a surprise, the offer of staying in his house even more so but, shocked as I was, I was curious enough about how he was getting on to agree to the visit.

We communicated by e-mail for the next couple of weeks, sorting out directions, what I was to bring and so on. It turned out that Frank had done well after leaving our small town and he was now a successful businessman working in the clothing industry as a fashion designer. The house was a testament to his success and I couldn’t help but feel slightly envious as I printed off the picture of Frank’s huge mansion from my computer. Frank explained that the house was secluded and while he was away I should be able to get on with any work I wanted to do or just relax and look around. The nearest town was several miles away and, worried about security while he was on vacation, he had decided to look up some old friends who might be able to housesit for him. I was the first one who had been available at such short notice he told me.

Eventually, I found myself sitting on a train, clutching a small case and a packed lunch. My old friend had insisted that I travel light; apparently everything would be laid on at my well appointed new home for the next couple of weeks. I arrived just after noon and, stepping out of the taxi, I couldn’t help but gasp in awe at the fantastic place where I was to stay. Checking my instructions, I quickly found the key and let myself in and then, after a welcome cup of coffee, I set off to explore. There were several bedrooms on the upper floor but I was surprised to find that Frank didn’t seem to have a room of his own. In fact, all the bedrooms seemed to be decorated in a decidedly feminine style and, from the clothes in the wardrobes, I guessed that either Frank did a lot of entertaining or was living with at least 5 women. I laughed. I was between girlfriends at the moment and, even though I viewed myself as a reasonably attractive, none of the local girls seemed that interested. I peered at myself in one of Frank’s numerous mirrors; I had a build best described as ‘slight’ though my features were handsome enough. I ran a hand through my dark hair, which I wore unfashionably long and sighed, wondering if any of my friend’s female admirers might pay a surprise visit.

Finding nothing specific in the instructions, I selected the most spacious bedroom and unpacked my case, taking care not to disturb the cosmetics, brushes and combs that had been left on the dresser as I laid out my stuff. Frank had explained that the maid would pay me a visit the following day (she came once a week apparently) so I threw my spare jeans and underwear on a chair and went downstairs to relax in front of the television with a light snack.

My old friend had, rather strangely, left me some vitamins and a note with some more instructions in the kitchen; 2 tablets twice a day and a suggestion that I try his vegetable drinks in place of a meal every now and again. I had out on a little weight recently and my light physique did not carry it well so I took his advice and, after swallowing the tablets, I poured myself some of the cold drink from the refrigerator.

I threw myself on the comfortable leather sofa and turned on the TV. I guess I must have dozed as, when I woke, it was already dark outside and the channel was now just noise. I blearily pressed ‘play’ on the video remote control...

"Hi Tom." A rather seductive voice purred from the set. "I’m Francesca. I hope you’ve settled in okay."

I turned to the TV in surprise and gasped as one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen peered back at from the picture. She laughed.

"I’m one of Frank’s models." She explained, laughing gently. "Frank asked me to do this video for you to get you acquainted with life in the house here and explain a little about what you might find to keep yourself entertained."

She had the most soothing voice and I soon fell back into the sofa while I listened intently.

"You’ve probably found the vitamin supplements already." She continued softly. "And you should help yourself to anything in the kitchen of course. There’s plenty of clothes upstairs and please feel free to use any of the stuff on your dresser."

I laughed at this suggestion, remembering that everything I had found so far consisted almost entirely of makeup and women’s hair accessories..

"As you’ve probably guessed already, quite a few of the models stay here so not all the clothes and cosmetics will be to your liking but, as you’ll be staying for a couple of weeks, please use what you like. There’s no one else around most of the time so I wouldn’t worry too much about whatever you end up wearing."

I suppose I should have been surprised by this vague suggestion but I was already far too tired to care much about it. I just continued watching the beautiful woman, entranced by her soothing voice and the gentle command of her soft words. While I gazed at the screen, the woman turned to her dresser and I finally recognised the room where she had been filmed; it was my room. I studied her movements with a strange intensity as she applied creams to her pretty face and brushed out her hair before retiring.

"Goodnight Tom." She whispered, reaching towards the camera. "I’m sure you’ll find your stay most enjoyable."

The picture then blurred for a moment before the original content of the video appeared on the screen. I assumed that it was a corporate training video for the company models but I remained glued to the set as I absorbed instructions on facial cleansing, hair styling and the application of cosmetics. I found it all strangely enticing for some reason. When I finally went to bed, I couldn’t resist trying some of the cleansing lotion on my dresser and, surprisingly, I did feel better afterwards with softer and cleaner skin and the lingering perfume of the fragrant white cream. I resisted the peculiar compulsion to do something with my hair and then undressed. Slipping between the overly feminine pink satin sheets, I had the best night’s sleep I could remember.


_____________________________

I woke the following morning to the delightful smell of fresh coffee and rolls. The maid, an attractive 19-year old called Samantha, appeared at the doorway with a tray and a large bag. While I sipped the coffee, I took the vitamins she had placed on the tray and asked her what the bag was for.

"Frank said that you might like a facial this morning Mr Gray." She explained as she tidied up around me. "I’m a trained beautician and most of my male clients seem to enjoy being pampered almost as much as their wives. Frank insists on looking after his skin and you’ll feel great afterwards."

I laughed and sank back into the bedclothes.

"Where do you want me?"

"Right where you are will be fine." She said. "I’ll just put some music on to help you relax..."

The music turned out to be some New Age noise, whale-song and waves lapping on a beach but, despite my cynicism, it certainly relaxed me and, before long, I was slipping in and out of unconsciousness while Samantha applied her powders and lotions to my skin. I remember wondering if I should have shaved first but my beautician explained that the depilatory creams were far more effective than any razor and she continued working on me while I dozed. I woke again to feel a gentle tugging on my eyebrows.

"What are you doing now?" I asked dreamily.

"I’m almost finished actually." The girl replied. "I just wanted to shape your brows slightly; they were a little too bushy for your new look and, despite your naturally androgynous features, I can only achieve so much with cosmetics at this stage."

"Cosmetics?" I blurted out, now understanding why my face felt so tight and smooth.

"Of course." Samantha replied looking genuinely surprised. "I thought Frank had discussed this with you. All his male transformation models have this done and you look great in makeup, better than most of his full time models. Here, take a look."

She handed me a small mirror and I gasped loudly as my new face swam into view. Somehow, in my dreamy half sleep, I had been totally transformed and now the undeniably pretty features of a beautiful young woman stared back at me from the glass. Deep red lips, long false lashes and elaborate eye makeup all combined to complete the illusion of exaggerated femininity that I now possessed. I was horrified.

"I think there’s been some kind of mistake." I breathed, barely able to believe that the words came from my lips. "I assume that this all comes off."

Samantha nodded as she packed her bag.

"There’s cleanser on the dresser." She explained hurriedly, "But I’m afraid I’ve got to go now. I’m sorry if you don’t like what I’ve done but I wouldn’t worry about it too much; you’ll be alone for the rest of the day so nobody will see you."

I waited until I heard Samantha’s car heading up the drive before I rose. My face felt strangely tight and, all in all, I felt pretty peculiar too, especially when I caught fleeting glimpses of myself in Frank’s numerous mirrors. With the beautician’s words still ringing in my ears, I resolved not to worry about how I looked as, if she was correct, I would be alone for the rest of the day anyway. I decided to get dressed...

Unfortunately, there was another surprise in store for me; the maid had taken all my clothes to the laundry. I stood naked in front of the mirror, my feminine face now taunting me above my still masculine body, and wondered what to do. There were no dressing gowns in the room and the only other available clothes were the dresses and skirts I had found the previous evening in the closet. I was getting cold too so, steeling myself, I tried to find something suitable to wear. With goosebumps all over my body, I decided to put on some women’s tights to keep my legs warm and I then pulled a loose woollen dress from the darkness. Despite my obvious concerns about actually dressing as a woman for the first time in my life, I quickly pulled the short black gown over my shoulders and immediately felt a little better as the material insulated me from the cold.

I started to set off to try to find Frank’s heating system but caught myself in the mirror as I turned. I gasped loudly, hardly able to believe what I could see. A pretty young woman stared back at me from the glass, copying my every move, her face showing something of my surprise despite the lush cosmetics she wore so confidently. I shuddered slightly as I realised that, to all intents and purposes, I now looked completely feminine, a female version of my old self. Just as I tore my shocked gaze from the glass, the phone rang loudly and I ran across to the bedside cabinet to answer it.

"Hi Tom. It’s Frank. How are you getting on with everything?"

"Great." I lied convincingly, deciding not to spill the beans to my generous host. "A few surprises this morning but the house is great even if it is a little chilly."

Frank explained that the heating system was controlled from a shed outside and that I should do my best to make myself at home. We exchanged pleasantries, discussed Frank’s latest job and then I cradled the receiver, relieved that Frank didn’t seem to know anything about my strange experience. Before I could go out however, I realised that I would need some shoes. Just like my clothes, my comfortable sneakers had also disappeared. Taking a set of high-heeled sandals from the cupboard, I slipped them over my tights and tottered downstairs to find the heating system. Amazingly, in the space of just one hour, I had somehow been transformed from an ordinary heterosexual male into a pampered young woman, complete with cosmetics, a short black dress, tights and now, almost unbelievably, a pair of cute stiletto heels.

The rest of the morning passed in a daze. Frank’s home was simply too comfortable and too well appointed for me not to have a good time despite the horrors of my recent makeover. In fact, after a little more exploration, a light lunch and a short nap, I found myself back in the TV room flicking idly through Frank’s extensive video collection. I found one with a picture of a cute girl on the front mysteriously titled ‘Bringing out the Woman in You’ which I decided on a whim to watch.

Incredibly, I realised as I put the cassette into the video that I had almost forgotten what I was wearing! It was only then that I remembered the makeup and the dress and that I had actually been walking around in 3 or 4-inch heels all morning. I laughed loudly in the empty house and kicked the shoes off my feet as I lay down, surprised by how comfortable the stiletto heels had become after only a few hours practice.

The video was rather dull, just a few of Frank’s models strutting around a catwalk somewhere. The commentary explained that some of the beautiful women had once been men but I felt really tired and couldn’t be bothered turning off the set. Frank’s perverse taste in entertainment bothered me slightly but, after my own unwitting introduction to the world of cross-dressing, I could hardly complain. It was late afternoon when I finally managed to wake up enough to leave the strangely compelling video. I still felt incredibly tired and so, having little else to occupy myself, I decided to take a short nap. I was so fatigued, I took a couple of Frank’s vitamin tablets to perk myself up but they did nothing to increase my alertness so I wandered slowly up to my bedroom and set about preparing myself for bed. There was still nothing suitable to wear in the room so, reminding myself that no one would see me, I quickly pulled on a simple silk chemise and slipped between the welcoming pink sheets.

I drifted in and out of sleep for half an hour or so when I was rudely interrupted by the doorbell. Still half asleep, I unconsciously slipped my stocking-feet back into my feminine shoes and hurried to the door. It was only when I turned the handle that I remembered how I was dressed and, kicking myself, I shouted an apology to my surprised guest and retreated back down the hall.

"Tom. Don’t hide." A woman’s voice said softly. "I’m Doctor Farrell, Frank’s counsellor and hypnotherapist. He’s told me all about you so you’ve nothing to be ashamed of."

I began to explain that there had been a terrible mistake but Dr Farrell was having none of it. She ushered me back into the living room and ordered me to sit down and make myself comfortable. For some reason, I obeyed immediately and soon found myself sitting quietly on the sofa while she arranged some items from her bag on the coffee table.

"Here; take these." She said. "You’ll feel better in a few minutes and then we can begin."

I swallowed the tablets immediately despite my misgivings and began a hurried explanation of why she had found me in such an embarrassing predicament.

"Don’t worry Tom. In an hour or so, you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about. We’ll have everything sorted out in a jiffy."

"I’m sorry about being so flustered." I said hurriedly. "It’s just that I’m not used to being seen like this...I mean...well, it isn’t something I do every day. I was just sort of tricked into wearing makeup and then the maid took all my clothes..."

She interrupted me with a wave of her hand.

"It really doesn’t matter." Dr Farrell said matter-of-factly. "I deal with these kind of problems every day and we’ll soon having you feeling better about yourself. You are quite clearly very stressed by all this and my job will be to help you relax and forget your troubles for a while."

"You can? I’ve never been to a counsellor before..."

"Make yourself comfortable Tom. Lie back a little and listen to the music and my voice as you relax."

Within minutes, I felt the heavy mascara of my lashes pulling my eyelids gently closed as I fell into a deep hypnotic sleep. In this strange twilight world, I quickly found that I had no control over my thoughts, emotions and imagination at all. Dr Farrell took me skilfully from one hazy fantasy to the next without any trouble at all. Even the questions she asked seemed highly charged with some peculiar sexuality I barely understood but I could not resist her sonorous voice and, disappointingly quickly, I readily accepted these implanted desires as my own.

Did I prefer blondes or brunettes, she asked quietly, small breasts or large breasts, women in light makeup or heavy makeup and so on until I could only reply in a hoarse excited whisper. By the time she had finished, I could almost see the woman I had created in my imagination and then, it was over, time to return to the world of the living once again.

"How do you feel?" she asked. "You were a natural subject Tom, a deeply suggestible patient so you may feel a little disorientated for a while."

I nodded as I sat up and smoothed an errant crease from my dress, barely noticing how much better I now felt about my feminine appearance.

"I feel OK I guess." I murmured, still trying to come to terms with how submissive I had become. I do feel much more relaxed though. Thanks."

Dr Farrell smiled.

"I’ve made arrangements for some people to visit. Do you want to get out of those ridiculous clothes before they arrive?"

I looked down at my stockings and the delightfully tapered points of my heels before replying.

"I’m sure that this will be fine." I whispered, surprised by my confidence. "There’s still no sign of my old clothes so, if they don’t mind meeting me like this, I’m sure that it won’t matter too much."

"That’s the spirit." Dr Farrell said as she wandered over to the door. "Why don’t you make your way back to your dressing table while I let them in. The hairdresser will want to start right away."

I stood up to say goodbye and walked as gracefully as I could manage up the stairs. I heard voices as Dr Farrell showed some people in to the house and then, a few minutes later, Samantha the beautician joined me in my room.

"Hi Tom. I bet you weren’t expecting to see me again so soon."

I laughed.

"No, I suppose I wasn’t but there’s been so much going on here since you left. I can barely keep up."

She gently lifted my long dark hair and studied the strands for a moment before asking me to undress. Still confused and still feeling incredibly compliant, I reluctantly stepped out of my shoes and slowly took off my tights and the flattering black dress.

"Brunette wasn’t it?" Samantha asked as she unpacked a number of bottles and lotions. "The Doctor gave us your instructions before she left even though I must say, given your reaction this morning, I was surprised how radically different you wanted to look."

I smiled but didn’t really know what to say. I was still very confused and apparently completely unable to protest. Samantha took my bewilderment for agreement and began to wash my hair. An hour or so later, with my makeup completely redone, my eyebrows plucked to even finer lines and my body still stinging from yet more of the powerful depilatory creams, I found myself seated impatiently beneath a hairdryer waiting to be shown what had become of me during this latest makeover. I did not have long to wait. As soon as I was taken from beneath the drier, Samantha led me slowly over to the mirror and, yet again, I gasped in amazement at the transformation I had undergone.

A ravishing brunette gazed back at me from the glass, her lips covered in heavy crimson gloss and her eyes outlined in thick black kohl. For the first time, long false lashes had been added to my elaborately made-up eyes and, beneath the delicately arches of my brows, the effect was stunning. My long hair had been dyed a deep chestnut brown and, with fresh highlights and the loose curls of a recent perm, it lent me the seductive glamour of a sophisticated woman. I could barely believe that I now looked more like one of Frank’s attractive models than the man who had stepped off the train so innocently only a day before. More worrying still, the makeover had been so skilfully done, I didn’t even possess the slightly stronger lines and irregular skin of the transsexual ‘ladies’ I had watched in the video. Samantha’s cosmetics and the radical restyling of my hair had completely changed the sex of my reflection and, to all intents and purposes, I was now, above the neck at least, completely female.

Samantha grinned broadly as I struggled to comprehend what she had achieved. She must have noticed my confusion at the apparent ambiguity between my radically feminised face and the rest of my male body.

"How do you feel Tom?" she asked, tearing strips of a waxy substance from a packet she had just opened.

"I don’t really know." I replied honestly. "I’m still all mixed up I guess. There’s no denying that the makeup and hair is fantastic but I still feel...well...male I guess."

I ran my hands over my recently shaved chest as I spoke.

"I don’t really understand the emotions I’m feeling. I’m sure that I was quite violently opposed to all this earlier on but now I’m not sure how I feel about it anymore. Perhaps it was the videos I watched or Dr Farrell’s hypnosis and counselling but I’m just confused now. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to liking what you’ve done to my face and hair.
Who wouldn’t want to look this attractive? But the rest of my body is still mine, the old me and I guess the ambiguity is a little unsettling."

Samantha smiled, obviously impressed by my honesty and suggested that I slip out of my night-gown and lie down on the bed. I complied immediately and soon felt her warm hands working close to my groin. The young beautician was undeniably attractive but, strangely, I failed to get aroused and merely relaxed at the unfamiliar intimacy. My pleasure was short lived however as a jolt of pain made me yelp loudly. Samantha’s hands swam back into view as tears threatened to spoil my mascara. She proudly flourished a long strip of wax and giggled as she noticed me staring at the myriad of tiny hairs stuck to its surface.

"I know it hurts a little." She chided. "But, once I’ve waxed your bikini line and smoothed off the last of your chest hair, you’ll be able to try on the dress I’ve found for you. It’s an exquisite design made of soft black silk, fashionably short and cut very low at the front. You’ll find it very comfortable and, though you’ll probably balk at the idea of wearing something so revealing to start with, it will look incredibly glamorous."

She paused momentarily.

"I’ve got another surprise for you too." She added, continuing with the painful depilation of my groin and thighs. "Something you’ll need to help you fill the dress properly, just like a real woman would."

After this enigmatic statement, Samantha then repeated the waxing procedure on my chest before smearing a clear adhesive gel onto my reddening skin. I was just about to ask what she meant, when two flesh-coloured orbs swam into view. I panicked momentarily as the incredibly realistic breasts descended but then it was too late and I felt them being firmly attached to my welcoming skin.

"Oh god." I breathed. "What have you done? What are they?"

Samantha grinned happily.

"You’ll get used to them surprisingly quickly." She said softly. "Breasts of this quality cost a fortune and I’ve taken a great deal of care to match your skin tone. I used a semi-permanent surgical adhesive too so, once the silicone has warmed up a little to match your body temperature, you’d never know they weren’t real."

I sighed in defeat as the unfamiliar weight of my new bust swayed precariously beneath my transfixed gaze. They were warming up already and now felt much more secure. In a few minutes, I knew that the large breasts would feel like just another part of my evolving body, indistinguishable from the malleable flesh they had so easily transformed. I had little time to take in these changes however.

"You will need to wear a bra for the foreseeable future." Samantha offered helpfully. "But there’s plenty of underwear in your room here. You could even try some matching panties if you’re feeling daring and, now that you’ve had your bikini-line waxed, you’d look wonderful in a little lacy thong or something."

TO BE CONTINUED

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