Boston T- Party

by Tanya Mazurek

  

Terry squinted at the bright light as the doctor slowly removed the bandages from his head. He watched the face of the medical staff for the telltale signs of horror as his new face was shown to the world for the very first time. Instead, he saw nothing but smiles and nods of approval (Okay, Terry is from Boston. He is used to being conned, but he certainly preferred pasted on smiles of sweetness to a pained look of sympathy).

No one said a word. No one. Finally, one of the nurses, staring and smiling said, "Turn around and look in the mirror." Terry turned slowly and as he came face to face with himself, he was fascinated, exhilarated and horrified all in one huge rush. Even through the puffiness of the surgery, he could tell that his face had been changed forever. He instinctively took his right hand to his face and touched the contours of his cheeks and mouth slowly, almost in a counter clockwise motion. The nurse added, "Careful. It will be sore and numb in places for awhile, however, that will go away."

Terry assessed what he saw. It wasn't his face. He wrinkled his nose (kind of in pain) and it was a stranger's nose that wrinkled back. He frowned and a perfect stranger frowned back. His eyes were drawn to two diamond studs in each ear and the almost haughty femininity that his face now had. Based on the computer model, Terry expected a feminized version of Terry. Instead he looked like a Rodeo Drive female realtor who had just been in a boxing match.

Despite the reassuring smiles and "oohs" and "aahs" from the staff, Terry was not emotionally ready to see the startling results. His knees buckled and the staff placed him back in bed and gave his a painkiller. He drifted off and his mind wandered back a few short weeks ago when he came back to compete in the new Ultra-Def Reality Series, "The Boston T-Party."

Terry finalized his contract before the Holidays and told everyone that he was on a new job (true) and a special assignment (very true) and unavailable for the next several months (very, very true). He locked up the condo and made arrangements to move to California for "several" months with the mortgage company, the post office, etc. He was allowed to pack one car pack and one suitcase and all his money to live on was handled by direct deposit.

Security was very tight at "The Ranch". When Terry arrived, he was hustled over to the Admin building, signed a stack of admission papers and went to a brief one on one orientation. The no nonsense head of the household was Jennifer Smalley (nicknamed Sergeant Smalley by the contestants in the months to come). She sat him down and matter of factly went over the rules.

She spouted, "Until we say so, no talking with the other contestants. No marijuana although it has been legal in California since 2015. No drinking in your room. No smoking cigarettes. No sexual intercourse on premises. No leaving the premises unless chaperoned and with special permission (chaperoned seemed like an odd choice of words to Terry). Wear what we tell you to wear, curfew is when we say it is, don't miss any lectures or workshops, no Internet except on a censored machine, no sneaking snacks, ANY QUESTION?" Terry paused and shook his head as he stared up at her. She bent down and smiled, "Think of yourself as Cinderella and me as the Wicked Stepmother." And she must have thought that amusing as she guffawed as loud as can be as she left the room.

Terry had little contact with the outside world for a few weeks. He was put on a strict regimen of low carbs, low fat, low calories and low taste. And assigned a personal trainer whom he was told was rotating with other contestants. He was treated well as he attended one on one workshops on grooming, walking, talking mannerisms, etc. Despite much encouragement, Terry did not feel that he was meant for this role, however, the lure of a guaranteed 1,000,000 @ 8% interest for life at the very least can be a powerful thing. He hung in there despite numerous second thoughts as the time past.

Finally, in mid January, he was brought in for final consultations prior to laser-gen surgery to remove all his body hair except the hair on his head, under his arms and groin. All other hair; arms, legs, face, chest, all of it gone. He wasn't all that hairy but it was hard for him to imagine. He was given a computer model as to "facial sculpting." The doctors had various options as to what can and should be done to Terry to feminize his face. This was the only mandatory part of the surgery. All other surgeries were optional and for the most part, reversible. This part was not.

Terry and the Plastic Surgeon's Staff spent a great deal of time discussing the various scenarios. One of the things that he was assured would add symmetry to his face was small cheek implants (an option), They suggested that his nose be "sculpted" to fit the shape created by the implants which would be small (please see the computer model, Terry). They suggested a "slight" reshaping of the eyes to give a hint of a lift and lowering the forehead so the hairline would be lower and more feminine. They had already targeted the slight male baldness pattern gene in Terry's DNA and neutralized it and inject a hair growth gene as well as a gene targeting his epidermis giving the aura of smooth, feminine skin.

Terry, after at least two hours of discussion, allowed fatigue and stress to be a factor and uttered the fateful words, "I trust the Surgeon. I am sure that he will strike the right balance." Yeah, sure. Terry is from Boston. Never trust a guy with a knife.

The laser gen surgery went smoother and faster than Terry could have guessed. The only slight holdup was the extra day or two to do his beard. The whole process took less than a week (not at all like the old days and the painful electrolysis). The healing process was very quick and within seven days, Terry was hairless except for his head and pubic areas…for life. He stared in the mirror at his reflection and thought how scrawny he looked all-hairless; almost 10 to 20 pounds skinnier. He felt oddly naked and even taking a shower seemed strange. He was using special creams on his body to assist the genetic implant as well as nurture the glow that women want in their skin. Not shaving and using facial lotion three times a day seemed especially weird.

He had hardly gotten used to the hairless Terry O'Brian, when he was summoned to the surgeons for another consultation. It was decided that the surgery on the face would be done in early February to keep the show on schedule. Contestants were on the premises and every effort was made to avoid social contact. Any contact without permission, was grounds for termination. Terry wanted to revisit the agreed upon surgery and discuss other options, No time he was told and no other options. The show was behind schedule and it occurred to Terry that until he had the facial surgery, he would not collect the 1,000,000. Okay. Let's do it. As a Boston kid, he should know to read the fine print……

Terry woke up in his room and shook off the effects of a bad dream. Hey! Wait! That was real, as the fading soreness on his face attested. He slowly got up and walked to the bathroom. The rules required that he wear girl's clothing at all times, however, he wore jeans, shirts, white panties etc. It was one thing to dress up at home and another to walk around The Ranch and have Sergeant Smalley harass him. Anyway, this time, he woke up with a huge hard-on. He had an erection of epic proportions as he looked at himself in the mirror. Great, he thought. I turn myself on. Joy.

The trauma of the high tech surgery was fading as rapidly as his resemblance to a man. The doctor had shaped his eyes almost almond like and he had never noticed how piercingly green and wide they were. The check implants, which seemed much larger than he envisioned, only accented the shape and size of the eyes. The doctors had taken his straight Celtic nose and gave him the nose of a Nordic female figure skater and injected his lips with some sort of filler that instead of his tight thin lips, he appeared to be wearing a pink turtle neck sweater on his face. And this was without makeup……

Terry lay in bed and wondered what he would do with 80,000 a year. Hide? He could never go to the old Pub again. His ex-wives would re-marry him just to divorce him again. The Curse? I inherited the Curse! What was I thinking? Still, in the inner recesses of his brain, he knew that dressing up would never be the same. Until he opened up his mouth, he looked hot and no matter how much he wanted to, he could not let that thought go. And the almost constant erection when he thought about the hot babe in the mirror.

The personal trainer, Mary Su Chi (or Mary Sunshine as Terry like to call her) knocked at his door. No rest for the wicked, she cheerfully chirped. Then she saw him as he got up and stopped in her tracks. "Wow! You look mahvelous!!" she almost yelled. Terry intended to take all comments with a grain of salt, however this one seemed sincere. "Thank you, dear." He replied. Dear? When the hell did I talk like that, he thought. She wouldn't let up. "You look as pretty as I could ever imagine. I mean, wow. Double wow." Okay, fine, enough, thought Terry.

Terry was hard at work at the gym with the trainer when a man came over and whispered to Mary. She came over to Terry and told him to stop exercising and go over with this escort to the Admin Center. Terry complied and as they walk over, the man kept looking over at Terry. Almost a quizzical look as in the game "What's my sex?" It occurred to Terry that this was going to be his fate……..

The Admin Center was very quiet, as usual. Terry was told that great care was taken to separate the contestants so that the early stages of the preparation were private. All that was about to end. The mandatory plastic surgeries were complete and the contestants will all meet each other without makeup and all bundled up in terry cloth robes and sweats. A general meeting will take place in two days and all contestants will be present. The Admin Staffer added slyly, "Everyone gets to size up the competition." Terry smiled as the soreness of his face was starting to subside. Maybe it was Terry's imagination, but he felt that people seemed more relaxed around him now. Probably just his imagination;

Underneath that pussy face, he was a tough guy from Boston…

Within the next two days, all the soreness seemed to go away and the boxer style bruises on his face were fading very rapidly. Terry started to noticed that his lips and cheeks were still huge and with limited feeling in both. His eyes were getting wider (if that was even possible) and the green even more piercing. He looked about 7 to 10 years younger and very feminine, having lost about 20 pounds (down to 140) since arriving and looking even thinner due to exercising every day. And this was without anything done to his hair or any makeup. However, he did notice that his skin was much softer and his hair was becoming more and more luxurious. He seemed to get an erection every time that he thought about it, but he couldn't even muster a smile.

Two nights before the "big meeting", Terry went to the gym to work out as was the regimen. After the carefully orchestrated workout, he was told to shower and go directly to dinner. As usual the dining room was nearly empty except for a few staffers who sat far away. After dinner, he went back to his room. To his amazement, while he was out, the room had been transformed in less than four hours. The feminine but subdued junior one bedroom suite now had mirrors on all walls, a lavish makeup table, satin sheets, down comforters, and lots of glitz and pizzaz. Terry's eyes were as big as saucers as he entered. Drained, he flopped down on the bed, stared at the ceiling and stared straight into a mirror directly overhead.

Terry stared in silence. Staring back at his was a thin, fit, feminine looking stranger whom he didn't even recognize. He gulped and started to sob. He could only imagine what his parents would have thought, what his ex-wives and buddies from the Pub in Beantown would think and he just lost it. Finally, still sobbing, he picked up the phone and called Admin and asked, "Can I make an immediate appointment with Doctor Weiss?"

The next day, Terry, not knowing his fate, entered the study to meet the "associate" therapist in lieu of Dr. Weiss assigned to his case. To his surprise, the therapist was a very attractive women about thirty-five. Terry thought that even though she was a bit older, she was "a keeper." The therapist smiled and asked him to sit down offering fruit or a drink. Terry declined both. The therapist sized Terry up for a few seconds, went over a file ("my life story," Terry thought) and finally looked at him. She smiled an almost awkward, "Hi". Terry smiled back and waited…….

 

Q. What brings you here?

A. I am afraid that I am, well, depressed.

Q. Tell me about it.

A. I am starting have doubts about my self-image. I was always able to hide my cross dressing because I just look or looked like a regular guy. Now, I haven't used or put on any makeup since I got here and I look ten times more like a women than I ever did before. In fact, I wonder how I am going to pass as a man…..

Q. Do you like the way you look?

A. I don't know…..

Q. Are you sorry that you came here?

A. I am bored. I miss hanging out, a few brewskis, being with people, you know.

Q. What do you want to do now?

A. I need to talk to someone. The married contestants must have lots of sex, fun, someone to hold there hand, emotional support. I don't have anything or anyone. I am horny (ouch, how could I say that to this hot chick?) and wonder if anyone will ever be intimate with me again.

Q. Do you mean men or women or both?

A. Women. I love women. I love there touch, their smell, their bodies, I…..

Q. Don't you think that women can sense that?

A. I seriously doubt that any woman would find me attractive. She would have to like women…….she would have to like gentleness….softness….kindness…loving….uh, maybe I see a point to all this.

Q. What is that?

A. That I can do this. Become financially secure and find love, but I will have to redefine how I approach women and life in general. I wish I had a woman to talk to……(laughter); okay, I know that you are a woman, however, you are a therapist.

They took a break and Terry chatted with the therapist for an hour.

The next day, Terry walked into his very first makeup session with a new attitude. The world is there for the taking. He decided that his self-image was a short-term price that had to be paid for long-term security and maybe a new beginning.

The facial healing process was almost complete and Terry needed continuing help with makeup and clothing and just about everything relating to femininity. Being a Boston Bobby-Soxer was not the same as dressing as a real woman and, let's face it, Terry thought, I have been surgically and genetically altered for life no matter how you sugar coat it in five syllable words.

Terry's hair had indeed thickened and becoming luxurious, but too short for the time schedule of the show. After studying Terry's computer model, a decision was made to weave in additional hair to match and apply a uniform color. A wheat blonde was chosen for him based on the model simulator. Carefully, the makeup was slowly applied. Terry was slowly instructed how to apply the makeup with the clear implication that he would get this instruction as many times as necessary.

As was all the rage in 2027, eye shadow with dazzling color was applied (in relatively minimal amounts as Terry had smashingly beautiful green, large eyes). Eyeliner was a darker green and the eyelashes were a medium brown. His now thickened lips was given an autumn color (light bronze)…no need for lip liner…. and just a dash of color on his huge cheeks. His hair was weaved to a medium length, slightly touching the shoulders, but "teased" in a retro look that was popular in the mid twentieth century and had made a comeback.

Terry was just wearing jeans and a blouse. His psyche only just now getting used to his hairless body and the slow acceptance that the hair would never comeback. He just stared at himself. He looked in his mid twenties instead of in his thirties. He used to weigh at least 160 lbs and now weighed in the 130s. He could not believe how complete the makeover had been. The old feeling started to stir and in spite of his surroundings, he had a hard, firm erection. He knew that if he was asked to stand, he would be embarrassed. He felt himself blush……

Terry wore the makeup for hours as he went to a class with Mary Su Chi, his one on one personal trainer who led him through walking, sitting, movement, and exercises for two hours. He practiced just about everything that he could in jeans and a blouse except speaking. He even learned how to properly freshen his makeup with only the few tools of the trade that would fit into the popular data purses that included a mini computer, world wave phone and ultra def camera. That night, in the privacy of his own room, he finally found his mo-jo again (and again) just thinking about the day's experience.

Tarry was called in for yet another counseling session.. This time, he met the head plastic surgeon, Dr. Perlmutter (yes, the one who helps the rich and richer). Dr. Perlmutter had a calm, almost fatherly approach. He was somewhat matter of fact, right to the point, clear as a bell, but had an air of complete honesty.

"Most of the remaining surgery options are reversible. None have a high risk factor, however, there is no such thing as no risk even with such mundane things as breast augmentation", he calmly recited as if he has said that at least a thousand times. "I have gone over your charts, studied the computer model and your profile and have recommendations for you," he added. "Do I have choices?" asked a somewhat intimidated Terry who had actually seen Dr. Perlmutter on regular digital HiDef TV.

"Certainly, my boy" bellowed the amiable doctor. "However, I am recommending that we whiten and straighten your teeth, tear drop style breast genetic augmentation (B cup), a combination derriere and hip implant that will contour your lower body, a tummy tuck sculpture, and a bit on contour work around the armpits and high thighs to add a slight roundness effect. The impact should be stunning." Terry just gulped, what's left? he thought. The doctor smiled and as if reading his mind, added, " Most of the surgery is reversible, however, the tummy tuck sculpture process, relatively new, would tend to leave your tummy skin less elastic, essentially distributing the fat to more feminine places."

Terry had seriously thought of having no additional surgery and taking his chances. Was earning more money all that important? Then, as the doctor was concluding his initial analysis, Terry looked at the computer model. It was a VERY lifelike model of him complete with his movements including his tendency to scratch his nose when nervous. The model was a computer simulation of him as he really looked as well as with several surgery options. It was like staring at a TG looking glass. Finally, the doctor concluded with, "Take your time. Please do not make any decisions until after the general meeting tonight." Tonight!!! Thought Terry. He had almost forgotten. It was time to meet the competition.

That night Terry was literally dressed by Mary, his personal trainer who brought in a special terry cloth robe, pants and slippers. All the contestants would be present, all wearing the same thing, all without makeup and there were explicit instructions not to speak. This was the one and only meeting before surgery and the start of competition. This was the time to find out what is really going on (Terry hoped) and size up the field of contestants. He could only hope that his questions would be answered since he could not ask any out loud.

That night, they all filed in to the main dining room from all over the compound, literally arm in arm with their personal trainers (all female, Terry noticed). The dining room was set up like a kind of news conference with a podium. Rather formal, thought Terry as he looked around. All the guys were in the same terry cloth outfits that covered just about everything except their faces. Several faces were obviously beautiful thought Terry as he tried not to stare. All were without makeup and tried to pretend not to notice each other.

Without any delay, a pleasant man whom Terry recognized from an early interview stepped to the podium. "I suppose that you have some questions" he understated as if to joke and relive the tension. No one laughed. He went on, "well, you guys are all millionaires with a chance for fame and even more fortune. This contest is actually two contests in one. First of all, there are thirteen contestants. Before The Countdown, our committee, leaving 10 finalists, will eliminate three contestants. Those 10 remaining will compete for the hand of a beautiful female who will choose her ideal soul mate. You don't have to marry her, however, each week, she will eliminate one of you. Starting with the first week, you will get $25,000 in stocks for each week that you survive the cut. The final two get an extra $100,000 in stocks and the finalist gets $1,000,000 MORE in cash. But that is not all, you can still stay in the game as the voting public who watches this in Ultra Def will vote off contestants. Each time you survive the cut, you get another $25,000in stocks. The final two get an additional $100,000 in stocks and the winner gets $1,000,000 in cash. That is really two contests…on one hand, you are competing for the hand of a beautiful woman and on the other you are competing for the support of the viewing Ultra Def public…simple?"

The room was very quiet except for a nervous few coughs here and there. The man went on, " we know that you may have been led to believe that married men were chosen. Not for this contest. At least none of you are currently married. And there have been several substantive changes based on our work in progress analysis and focus group input as well as some practical and logistical problems that have arisen. However, if any of you think that by revealing our project, you can benefit, guess again. Any attempt to compromise the project will be met by forfeiture of all money, a breach of contract lawsuit, an injunction and a world of shit. The formal recording will begin the first week in July and end in Mid September. Our research has shown that this special programming will be the talk of the summer and will be very compatible with the Ultra Def experience. The first show will be two hours; the next eight will be one hour each and a two-hour finale. You have your work cut out for you over the next ten weeks to prepare. You have decisions to make and things to learn and we are not going to tell you much more except that in two weeks, you will be able to hangout together and interact for the final eight weeks….good luck."

The meeting ended and Terry realized that every man there had to make decisions as to what to do about any surgery. The social implications, the fabulous money and the future were all on the table and may go to the boldest and most daring. Back in his room, Terry showered and popped diet soda and plopped on the bed and looked up at the mirror directly ahead, "mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" he murmured and drifted off to sleep. Maybe women will like me even more; maybe I like not having to get up at 5 AM in Boston in the cold and dark. Maybe I'd freeze my titties off he giggled to himself as he finally realized what he had to do.

Terry walked in the surgeon's office the next day and told Dr. Permutter, "No, I will not have any additional surgery. I think that I have done enough. My face and body are feminine enough without anymore help." Dr. Perlmutter just stared at him and smiled and simply said, "Very well." Terry felt the awkward silence and left.

That night, after dinner, there was a knock on his door. To his surprise, Kelly, his frat buddy and the asswipe who got him into this deal was at the door with two brewskis. Before he could protest, Kelly entered and said," Don't worry. I have permission to be here with the lagers. Ice-cold, old-fashioned bottles that hissed as Kelly popped the tops. Gratefully, Terry grabbed one and took a cold swig.

Kelly and Terry just sat on in the room and drank for a minute. Finally, Kelly commented, " Hey, you look outstanding. We think that you are going to be a popular contestant." Terry, almost sullenly said, "Thanks." Kelly, still pressing forward added, "Look guy, you look great but you seem quiet, not very vivacious. You need to take it up a notch." By this time, Terry realized that Kelly was not here on a mere social call and that he was sent for a purpose…what purpose?

Kelly stammered, "your image has intrigued several focus groups and we are prepared to offer you $250,000 in cash or deferred to have some additional surgery." Terry got wide eyed. "Isn't that illegal? Asked a confused Terry. Kelly replied, "No, the contests are legit and we do not tamper with the results. However, we have every right per the contract to, at our sole discretion, to award bonuses or incentives for individual contestants."

 

"Do you mean that I have to listen to Dr. Perlmutter's recommendations?" Asked Terry as he finished his beer. Kelly now on a rold continued "Actually, we need you to do the surgery in accordance with what the focus groups have recommended. You don't have to do it and there won't be any penalties…….hey Terry, when is the last time that you worried about your bill payments? When is the last time that you worried about your paycheck? Another quarter million safely tucked away and the contest hasn't even begun."

"Make it an even $500,000 and I might not even read what the damn focus groups recommended before signing." Said Terry with a stone cold stare. Kelly couldn't help laughing to himself how money can buy a man's soul.

A week later, Terry was wheeled out of the final genetic surgery; still drugged, he wondered if he had done the right thing or if he was insane for agreeing to this.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2004 by Tanya Mazurek. 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.