Bosom Bondage Buddies

by Brandy Dewinter

  

Chapter 11 - A True Identity

  

The next day was Saturday and Kelly and I were home when yet another package arrived. In it were the items for my remaining incentive outfit, women's business attire. Kelly had chosen a deep blue color with a delicate pinstripe in a lightweight wool material for the suit. The blouse was a paler blue, loaded with ruffles at breast, collar and wrists. The only feature of the suit that was out of the ordinary was the abbreviated skirt, not much if any longer than the other outfits Kelly had selected. A pair of black leather pumps in the package maintained the towering standard in heel that Kelly had established as well. Even though it was early in the day, barely after noon, Kelly suggested we get dressed immediately and go shopping. Nodding happily, I went to the bedroom to start the process when I noticed that Kelly had disappeared. I began to take off the comfortable sweats I had started the day with, wondering where she had gone. Just about the time I got down to the tightly-stretched thong bikini, Kelly came walking in with Billie Jo! Billie Jo let out a good-natured wolf whistle, proving that though I had overcome my perpetual embarrassment at Brandy's effect on men, I could still blush when notified of Ran's effect on women.

"I invited Billie Jo to come shopping with us since she needs a more feminine wardrobe," Kelly explained. "I also thought it would be interesting for her to see Brandy's full transformation."

"Goodness, you have lost weight," Billie Jo added.

"Congratulations."

I nodded, still a bit embarrassed at the situation. I knew that once I was fully dressed as Brandy I was credibly female, but in transition I wondered if Billie Jo would think I looked ridiculous, or worse, pathetic. Kelly's normal exuberance precluded all negative reflections. In a moment, she had brought out the white corset and was wrapping it around my waist. She had me show Billie Jo the silicone breast forms as she began to work on the laces. When they started getting tight, she had me hold the bedpost, then called Billie Jo to her side.

"Here, you pull them tight," she offered with a twinkle in her eye. "He always does me tighter, because he's stronger than I am. See if you can get me a bit of revenge."

Rising to the challenge, Billie Jo showed the effects of a lifetime commitment to exercise. I had always thought that Kelly had pulled me as tight as it was possible for my body to go, but in no time Billie Jo was forcing my waist in an unbelievable amount. Kelly cheered her on until finally Billie Jo tied off the ends and brushed back from her face a lock of hair that had fallen in her exertions. She was breathing almost as hard as I was, though she recovered much more quickly without a corset's constrictions. Kelly had me solo on my makeup, though she stood ready to catch any mistakes. Cosmetics went okay, but I needed a little help with the wig in order to get a few ends out from under the cap where they had stuck. It was clear that I would soon be able to handle all aspects of the transformation except for the corset, which still required external help. I pulled on dark, seamed stockings, then the blouse and the skirt. As I stepped into the heels I reached for the jacket to the suit, noting that it was double-breasted.

Kelly laughed as I buttoned it on, "Let's see, double-breasted jacket, breast forms, and Ran under it all. Does that make four-breasted or six?"

Kelly handed me a pair of tight kidskin gloves and went to the closet to search for a business suit of her own. In a moment, she came back, carrying suit, heels and pantyhose.

"Wait a minute," I protested. "What about your corset? And those aren't very high heels."

"Tough luck," Kelly returned unsympathetically. "My corset is in the laundry and for this outfit you have to take what I already had. I guess today you'll just have to be the prettiest."

I realized that she was a bit disappointed as well and decided Billie Jo might not be the only one buying new clothes today. She quickly dressed in her neat business suit and then refreshed her makeup. Billie Jo's outfit was also a suit, though of plainer style and longer skirt, so Kelly just had her remove the jacket and blouse for a moment to apply the appropriate cosmetics and then we were all ready to go.

We went in Billie Jo's Taurus again as the only logical choice and were soon window shopping in an upscale mall. This time, I was clearly the most glamorously dressed and attracted a lion's (or lioness's) share of the attention. Not all the attention was favorable, as the clothing shops of the mall were populated with a higher proportion of women than men and many of the women were obviously jealous. My internal transformation from embarrassment to pride at men's attention was more than enough armor to keep the jealous glares from reaching me and I felt pride at that success as well.

We spent the afternoon gathering a variety of wardrobe items for Billie Jo who needed as fresh a start as Brandy had recently required. Tightly restrictive corsets were not of much use with her lean, hard body, but sheer wisps of bras, panties, and garter belts in a variety of colors soon promised to make her cotton underwear most useful for cleaning rags. Tight, short skirts, lacy feminine blouses, and tall, tall heels completed her immediate clothing needs. Then she found a leather dress with a short enough skirt to match my abbreviated suit. She quickly purchased it, promising to change from her plain suit so that she wouldn't draw down the image we three presented. After we found appropriate accessories to complete a few outfits we went back to one of the better clothing stores so that Billie Jo could use a dressing room to change. In a short while, Billie Jo had climbed back onto the pedestal of elegance she had achieved the previous night and Kelly was clearly feeling third best among us. She had ordered a new suit with a shorter skirt at one of the stores we had visited, but the alterations would take a few days, so she had no new clothes herself.

"I should have worn my own leather dress," she grumbled. "I don't need a corset with it."

"Oh you're beautiful," we consoled her, though she was right. Before Billie Jo changed clothes, Kelly and I had not seemed badly matched. Now Kelly's outfit, while sharp and professional, was not going to draw her share of the stud patrol she had proudly attracted before.

"Maybe we should have put a suit on the list for your second incentive prize. You'll have a new one as soon as it's ready, though.

At that remark, Kelly glanced at Billie Jo and I remembered I had not told her about my conversation with Billie Jo about Kelly's third incentive prize. Realizing she had not figured out how to address the issue of Brandy's ID cards for my third incentive, Kelly began to sulk even more. The contrast with her usual cheerful glow drew all of us into gloom. I shook myself out of it and stood still for a moment.

"Cheer up, you little twerp," I commanded. "Here you are surrounded by sisters who are a living testament to your genius with clothes and makeup. When we go out, you're the one that attracts the only guy that looks like he's interested in more than just a one-night stand. Right now, Billie Jo and I are getting icy glares from all the women who are jealous and you're getting the best service. Save your sexpot image for when there are men around. You don't have anything to worry about."

The smile and hug I gave her took all the heat from my words, and she grinned up in recognition of my correct perspective on the situation. She hugged me back. Then I could see worry about her part of my third prize resurrect, though this time with determination to overcome. She began to pull us toward the lingerie store where she had purchased my extra corsets. As I had called to her attention, she had been getting the best service and soon she had the sales girl following her around, helping her pick out additional designs for her to wear when her ice-blue one was in the wash. Then she asked the girl if the store had any similar designs, but with laces in front.

"Why do you want one like that?" Billie Jo whispered. "Half the fun of dressing Brandy is pulling her waist in."

"It's for her third incentive prize," Kelly blurted. Then she realized that she was talking to her own third incentive prize, if I could make good on my promise. She blushed furiously and looked away. Billie Jo realized that Kelly was unsure of her reception, which implied that I had not passed along the conclusion of our agreement.

"Didn't you tell her what I told you?" Billie Jo asked me.

"Didn't she tell who about what?" Kelly demanded.

I held up my gloved hands in a gesture for silence, then replied, "Wait a minute, this conversation is getting too convoluted, let me start at the beginning."

"Kelly, I haven't told you, yet, but I asked Billie Jo to participate in your third incentive."

"Did she agree?" Kelly asked breathlessly, afraid to look at Billie Jo.

"Yes," Billie Jo answered with a smile, the flush on her own cheeks a mere shadow of the one Kelly displayed, but still evident. Through the thin material of Billie Jo's new dress, her nipples proclaimed her enthusiasm for the idea. Kelly, looking at Billie Jo as she answered the question, noticed the evidence. Her smile regained its normal high-watt intensity.

"Did Brandy tell you her own third incentive?" Kelly asked Billie Jo.

"No, what is it?"

Kelly explained her total immersion plan for me, including solo adventures.

"That's why we have to get some corsets she can get dressed in herself. But I have a problem, Brandy will need a driver's license when she's alone. We really ought to get her some credit cards and maybe other ID as well. We can get the clothes easily enough, though she will never lace herself as tightly as you did," Kelly continued with a smile, "but I don't know how to get her some ID."

Billie Jo's answering smile showed a deeper pleasure than the gentle amusement she habitually wore.

"Do you know what I do for a living?" Billie Jo asked.

"No," we replied in chorus, curiosity building.

"I'm in charge of the local driver's license bureau," she grinned. "I may be able to help you with your problem. Get your things and we'll go see."

Kelly quickly picked out three new corsets, closely matching my current style except that they laced in front, and had the sales girl total up the purchases. I reflected on the clothes we had acquired in the last couple of months and was glad Kelly's salary approached my own commission income. We gathered up our packages and left for the car. Billie Jo drove us to the license bureau, closed at this time on a Saturday afternoon, and let us in the door with her key. In a few minutes I had a fresh new license made out to Brandy R. Dewinter, my height, the weight I would be when I reached my third incentive, and the crucially important sex block marked with an F instead of an M. I carefully placed it in my purse, wanting to caress it for the excitement it signified.

"I can't imagine how to thank you," I beamed. "Will you get in trouble for this?"

"Not if you don't kill somebody. Carry your other license with you and if you get in an accident use it. You'll have a lot of explaining to do, but that's the risk you take. For ordinary identification, use this one. Besides, yesterday at this time I was moping in my house wondering where my life was going. In just one day you have opened a whole new world to me. I owe you more than a simple piece of laminated plastic."

"You only owe us your friendship," I asserted.

"Same thing," Billie Jo replied with a grin that transformed her angularly elegant face.

We quickly left the bureau and carrying all our packages home, we completed our shopping adventure.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2003 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.