How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by C. Sprite

 

Chapter Eight

 

We sat there for almost twenty more minutes before a man came and said, "Everybody follow me." Taking us to a studio just down the hall, he said, "This is our backup studio for the news program. It's also used occasionally for other presentations, but then it's restored to this format so that it's ready at a moment's notice. We also use this studio for training and practice broadcasts." He went on to point out all the features of the room, and give us a basic understanding of how things worked. He naturally spent the most time at the weather person's station, explaining how the blue screen feature worked and showing us how to watch either the off-screen monitor on the left side or the right side as he motioned in front of a blank wall. The monitors would show us super imposed over the weather map. You had to think abstractly to look credible while talking. Further, the man giving the presentation told us that we'd be wearing an earphone so that the control room could talk to us while we were on camera. That meant that you had to say your lines, which were prominently displayed on a teleprompter, while you gestured at a blank wall according to what you saw in a different monitor, and responded to directions from the control room. It would not do to lose your train of thought or miss a beat in your presentation. Additionally, you might have to make on-air changes without appearing to concentrate on what was being said into your ear. This isn't as easy as it sounds and most people have seen interviewees lose their patience while appearing on camera and remove their earpiece so they can concentrate on what they're saying.

The presentation ended just in time for us to move to the live studio so that we could watch tonight's broadcast. We were warned to be absolutely quiet and stay out of the way. We watched as things were readied and the news people came out and took their seats. The two anchors and weatherman talked and joked among themselves until a couple of minutes before the broadcast started and then they became quiet and prepared to go to work.

This might be just a small mid-western TV station, but to my inexperienced eye, the news-people were first-rate. I looked for all the mistakes that we had just been warned against and I didn't see a one. If they were getting messages in their ears, it was impossible to tell. They always seemed to know which camera to look at, and even adlibbed a few times when they read a lighter piece of news. I knew that they were adlibbing because I could see a teleprompter from where I was standing. The only low point in the broadcast was the weather report. Even I could see that the man was only giving a half-hearted presentation.

After the broadcast was over and the cameras were off, the lighting in the room changed and people started talking as the cameramen left their cameras and the news people stood up and disconnected themselves from their equipment. One of the news anchors came over and introduced himself to each of us and wished us luck on getting the job, while his co-anchor hurried from the room as if she needed an emergency bathroom break. We were next herded out of the studio and back to the original room. The presenter told us that we would be taken to either the main studio or the back-up studio, one at a time, and given ten minutes of rehearsal time. Then we would be taped through two presentations. The teleprompter would show a script specially prepared as an exercise. We would receive real instructions from the program director and had to react properly. He also told us to take all of our personal possessions with us because we wouldn't be allowed to return to this room. I assumed that this was so no one could pass on secrets to someone else, although from the cut-throat looks in the room, it didn't seem that anyone here would try to help someone else.

The first two names were called, and two very nervous women left the room. Over the next two hours, somebody would come in and take two more out to be tested. Some were nervous, and on the verge of being basket cases, and others were supremely calm, as if they did this every day of their life. I had been the last one to arrive and I was the last one called, so I assumed that people had been taken in the order they'd arrived. I guess that I could be categorized as one of the supremely calm, because I knew that I didn't have a chance and was only going through this to satisfy Lizbeth. After having spent a lot of time in the waiting room, I'd identified four people who would be perfect for the job. They were beautiful, articulate, and from the questions that they'd asked during our tour, appeared to have above average intelligence. My only chance would be if they were looking or a blonde bimbo because I knew nothing about meteorology.

When the man who came to get me saw two of us rise, I just pointed off-handedly to Lizbeth and said, "This is my agent." He smiled and nodded, then led the way to the main studio.

Lizbeth stayed in the background where we had stood earlier while I was led to the weather person's station and outfitted with a microphone and earphone by a male technician. He seemed to get some small pleasure out of lightly touching me and I didn't object. Most of the sexual part of me was fake anyway. Once I was set up with the audio equipment, I started getting instructions in my ear. I was told to face this way or the other, and then a woman came out to powder my nose and face because it was too shiny. When my appearance was satisfactory, I was told to say ready when I wanted the teleprompter to start rolling. The program director quickly added that I had to continue until the light on the camera in front of me turned off, no matter what happened, because the news report was always live. If I goofed, I was to just ignore it and continue. I immediately said ready.

As the teleprompter began rolling, I started reading. It wasn't complicated and I gestured at the blank wall while I watched the off-screen monitors with one eye and the teleprompter with the other. Things were rolling along fine until I started getting instructions in my ear to face the camera more, gesture a little more enthusiastically, or some other such instruction. At the end of five minutes, the light winked off and I took as deep a breath as the corset allowed, then let it out slowly. I heard in my ear, "How was that?"

I giggled and then said, "You tell me."

"Not too bad for your first time ever. You have a nice smile and we need to see it more. And look at the camera when not gesturing at the board. Think of the camera as a girlfriend that you're talking to. You're trying to get through it a little too fast. You actually completed it thirty seconds early. We sped up the teleprompter to keep up with you and avoid awkward silences. It should be the other way around. Watch the time superimposed on the teleprompter and go with the speed of the script display. Slow down, relax, and have a good time. This isn't rocket science. It's simple hand/eye coordination, like playing a video game."

"Okay." Video games were something that I understood, but timing the report added another dimension to the effort.

The makeup woman came out and powdered my face again. "You're doing fine, honey," she said. "Just stay relaxed and concentrate on what you're doing. Put everything else out of your mind."

I smiled at her. "Thank you."

She returned my smile and then walked back off camera.

In my ear I heard, "Okay, this time I'll cue you to start, just like with a normal broadcast. Count one second after hearing the word 'Go', and start your presentation."

"Okay."

I heard, "Ready on weather. Three, Two, One, Go."

I waited one second and then started reading from the teleprompter. The second rehearsal went much better. For one thing I had a feel for the script and so was better prepared.

When the light on the camera winked out, I breathed another sigh of relief. I heard, "Good job, want a break?"

"No, I'd prefer to keep going and wrap it up."

"Okay, this one is for the money. Break a leg."

The makeup lady came out, checked my appearance, and said, "Good luck." Then I heard the countdown and "go". I started reading the script and gesturing at the blank wall. By now I knew most of the short script and only had to face the teleprompter to refresh the numbers such as temperatures in my mind. I tried to smile more and face the camera. As the camera light winked out, I breathed a sigh of relief. Only one more time and I could go home.

I heard in my ear, "How do you feel? Ready for the second taping?"

"Whenever you are."

"Okay. Ready on weather. Three, Two, One, Go."

The camera light winked on and I started reading the script. A minute into the report I started getting very loud static in my ear. I heard, "Keep going, we're having a feedback problem in the intercom system. We'll get it cleared up in a minute." I kept going while he talked and I didn't miss a beat. The static continued but I tuned it out. Then the noise suddenly stopped, just as I was explaining about a high-pressure ridge moving up from the south. I was gesturing with my hands and reading from the teleprompter when the teleprompter suddenly went blank. I was supposed to treat this like a live presentation so I knew I couldn't stop. I spoke from memory, hoping that I remembered enough that it made sense to anyone listening. There was less then a minute left on the countdown timer, and I was gesturing, while looking at the monitor on my right side, when the weather map behind me suddenly changed to a happy face with his tongue sticking out. It only lasted a second and changed back to the weather map, but it lasted long enough to make me giggle out loud. I looked at the camera, smiled, and, pointing to the wall behind me with my thumb, I said, "Did you see that? Do you think that he was rating the weather or my reporting?" Then I continued the report without the teleprompter, using the numbers printed on the weather map. As the light winked out, the static started in my ear again. I heard through the static, "Good job" and then it died out.

The technician came over and unhooked me and collected his equipment. The lights came up in the background and Lizbeth approached me.

"Well, I guess that's that. Your first one was great but the second one went downhill. What where you talking about when you pointed to the blank green wall?"

"I guess that you didn't see it; you would have had to be looking at a monitor. A funny smiley face, with his tongue sticking out, suddenly replaced the weather map for a second." I shrugged. "I did my best. The teleprompter stopped working and I had to go from memory. Then there was the loud static in my ear for about two minutes, and somebody messed up the weather map image."

"Really? Maybe we could get them to give you another chance."

The man who had brought us from the waiting room came over. "Thank you for coming in. We'll be in touch. Do you know your way out?"

"Wait," Lizbeth said. "The equipment got messed up on her second taping. The teleprompter cut out, and there was a problem with her earphone."

"I'm sorry, only two tapings per applicant. I'm sure that they'll take equipment problems into consideration."

Lizbeth started to argue but I dragged her away, saying to the man, "You know how agents are."

He smiled and nodded.

Lizbeth handed me my purse and we left the studio, walking down the hall towards the front area. I heard, "Ashley, wait a minute." I stopped and turned. Mr. Souter was hurrying down the hall towards us.

When he reached us he said, "That was excellent, Ashley. We were watching from the office. You floored them."

"What? They liked the first taping that much?"

"No, the second. You handled it like a pro. You were relaxed, confident, did a good job of reporting the weather after the teleprompter quit, and even adlibbed when the smiley face appeared. Anybody can handle it when there aren't any problems, but we want people who can remain calm and focused when we have equipment glitches."

"I'd say you have a few serious problems. I had loud static in my ear for about two minutes."

"Yes, and you never even paused your report. The static was part of the test."

"And the teleprompter quitting?"

"And the teleprompter quitting."

"And the smiley face appearing?"

"And the smiley face appearing. We have to know how people will react to things like that. All of those things have really happened while we were on the air, although not all during the same broadcast. Equipment breaks down, people push the wrong button on control consoles, and all kinds of other things occur. We once had a large studio light come crashing down from the ceiling one night during a broadcast. You have to stay calm, maybe adlib a line or two, and then get back to work."

"So Ashley didn't do bad?" Lizbeth asked.

"Bad? She did wonderful. One of the girls being tested today ran out crying after the teleprompter cut out during her second taping. Another started cursing like a longshoreman. Ashley is one of the top three finalists, and for my money, she was the best. I knew that she would be."

"When will we know?" Lizbeth asked.

"By tomorrow at the latest because we want to have someone ready for next week. If the decision is made tonight, I'll call you at home."

"Thank you, Mr. Souter."

"Thank you for coming in. I'm really glad that I ran into you at the Mall today. Goodnight."

We both said goodnight and walked to the front of the building where the woman at the front desk allowed Lizbeth to call the house. After hanging up Lizbeth said, "Suzanne will be here in ten minutes. Hey, why so glum. You might still get this job."

I couldn't tell her that I was glum because I might get the job so I said, "How am I going to get to work every day, and then get home again. I don't want to impose on Suzanne and Nicole constantly."

"We'll find a way. Hey, you might be the first celebrity in the family."

I had gone into the studio not wanting the job and feeling that I didn't have a chance, and, because I was so relaxed, I had wound up in the top three finalists. If I had been anxious for the job, I probably would have failed miserably. Go figure. I had to find a way to get out of this. I didn't want to be the weather girl. I didn't even want to be a girl. I just wanted to be a boy again.

We had missed dinner so we nuked some of the broiled salmon and potatoes, that Nicole had made, when we got home. I let Lizbeth tell Nicole and Suzanne about the entire interview process while we ate. They both congratulated me on doing so well and placing in the top three.

"How can we get Ashley to work if she gets the job?" Lizbeth asked.

"I'll take her in if Suzanne can pick her up," Nicole offered.

"I can't impose on you every day," I said. "I didn't know that the station was so far away. If I get offered the job, I'd better turn it down."

"Don't you dare," Suzanne said. "I want to be able to tell all my patients that my cousin is the TV weather girl on KBXF. I don't mind picking you up."

"Ditto," Nicole said. "I'll be happy to drop you off each afternoon. Then we can watch you on television every night."

The phone rang just then and Lizbeth raced for the portable that she had brought downstairs. I wondered why there weren't any phones down here.

"Hello," Lizbeth said. - - "Yes, she is. Is this Mr. Souter? Hold on, Mr. Souter."

She handed me the phone, sort of. Actually she held onto it and faced it towards the front so that she could listen also.

"Hello, this is Ashley."

"Hello Ashley. This is Mr. Souter. The station manager has eliminated eighteen of the twenty-one applicants that were tested today but can't decide between the final three, of which you're one. Can you come in again tomorrow night for an interview?"

If I wasn't being watched by my three cousins, I could have declined the job at this point, but I couldn't appear negative in front of them. Especially not after the way they had just acted and volunteered to support me in the job. "I guess so, Mr. Souter. What time should I come?"

"He'd like everyone to come by the station at seven. The first broadcast will be over and he'll have time before the final broadcast at ten."

"Okay, Mr. Souter. I'll be there at seven. Good night."

"Good night, Ashley. I'm still pulling for you."

"Thank you. Bye."

I put the phone down and stood there.

"Well?" Suzanne said anxiously. "Tell us what he said."

"The station manager has eliminated eighteen of the twenty-one job applicants, but hasn't made a decision from the finalists, of which I'm one. Mr. Souter thinks that I still might have a small chance to get the job."

"But you're one of the final three, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you have a good chance or they would have dropped you already. What was that about seven?"

"They want the three finalists to come in tomorrow at seven. The early broadcast will be over and the station manager can concentrate on the interviews."

"I can drop you off," Nicole offered.

"And I'll pick you up when you're done," Suzanne said.

"Thanks. I don't want to get everyone's hopes up though. The best of the other applicants were all beautiful, articulate women. I'm more surprised that I made it this far than I can tell you. I felt that I was really, really, out of my class as I sat waiting tonight."

My statement was met with a chorus of protests from my cousins. They stood up to crowd around me to hug me and tell me that I was a beautiful young woman; surely as beautiful as anyone that could have been there. Lizbeth was the most vocal, stating that she had been there and the others definitely weren't as beautiful as I was. In the back of mind I knew that I was still a male, but the constant reinforcement that I was a female was having a dramatic effect on me. The chorus of voices telling me that I was a girl, coupled with the images of me as a girl that my sub-conscious mind was forming, was forcing me further and further away from that image of myself as a male.

We paid extra careful attention to the weatherman during the late broadcast. I don't know if he was just putting in his time, knowing that he was losing the position, or if he really didn't want to do it, but his unhappiness or lack of enthusiasm for the job seemed obvious.

After the news Suzanne turned off the set and everyone stood to go up to bed. Lizbeth followed me, saying that she would help me with the corset. When I had removed my outer clothes, she untied the laces and helped me separate the two back pieces so that I could unhook the front busk hooks. As the corset came free, I took a full breath for the first time since early afternoon. I had removed my makeup earlier and I was anxious to jump into bed.

I removed my bra and then sat to remove my stockings while Lizbeth took the corset and put it on a hanger so it could air out overnight. I had removed the control brief and garter belt by the time that she was done, and was about to put on my nightgown when she stopped me. Going to my dresser she pulled out a chemise and handed it to me.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"Put it on," she said calmly.

I lifted my arms and let the chemise fall lightly over my torso like a short slip. Lizbeth picked up the shopping bag from our trip to the Mall today and removed a box. Opening it, she stretched out a second corset. This one had a plum colored outer fabric, decorated with black lace around the top and bottom. She moved around me and locked the two busk pieces together in the front, then walked around behind me as I held it up, and she started tugging on the laces, shifting the corset as she worked. This corset was much longer than the new one that I had worn during the day. It had half cups to support my breasts, although I almost overflowed them, and it extended down below my hips.

Lizbeth pulled on the laces until I was having trouble breathing. It was even tighter than the earlier one that we had just bought and seemed to be surpassing the one that I had worn the first one for the gown.

"Lizbeth, I can't breathe. It's too tight."

"If you can talk, you can breathe."

"Can't this fitting wait until tomorrow? I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"Hold on, I just have to get this closed down a little bit more."

I felt her give one more sharp yank and then she tied off the laces. When she was done, I could barely bend and move, and wouldn't even be able to use the bathroom without removing the corset.

"Perfect," she said. "Your shape will be as good as any of those other girls at the interview."

"Great. Can you release me now? "

"What release? This is your sleeping corset. Hold up your arms."

I automatically raised my arms as her words sunk in. She dropped my nightgown over my shoulders and guided it to the floor as it encased my body.

"What do you mean 'sleeping corset'. You don't expect me to wear this to bed, do you?"

"Of course. We don't have much time to train your waist, so we have to get started and use every minute. The woman at the store advised that you wear this each night and your waist training will move along much quicker."

I turned to defiantly face her. "No, I won't do it, Lizbeth. I won't wear a corset to bed every night."

"Yes, you will. Remember, you have to wear whatever I say and I want you to wear this corset."

"I'll just take it off after you leave then."

Lizbeth looked at me. I'm sure that she saw the look of determination in my eyes. She turned and walked to my closet, opened the left door, and removed the handcuffs that still hung there. She walked back to me and said, "Turn around and put your hands behind you."

I looked at the handcuffs in horror.

"No, I won't wear those either."

"Do I have to call Nicole and tell her that you're being uncooperative? You agreed with this so that we wouldn't call your mother. We can still do that, you know? Or perhaps you'd prefer that we extended your sentence until September? And you'll still have to wear what I say."

She had me. Until my sentence was over, any resistance on my part could nullify the agreement. And I doubted if I could have physically resisted even Lizbeth while I was wearing this corset, much less Nicole. You have to be able to breathe in order to engage in physical activity. I turned around slowly and put my arms behind me. I felt the sting of the cold steel as Lizbeth locked the handcuffs on my wrists.

"You won't be removing the corset now. Get into bed."

I moved to the bed and tried to sit down, but the corset resisted my attempts to bend so Lizbeth pushed me over and I flopped onto the bed. She lifted up my legs and straightened me on the bed, then attached the second pair to my ankles before pulling the light summer cover over me.

"I won't bother attaching the bed chain," she said. "I don't think that you'll try to go anywhere tonight."

"Lizbeth," I pleaded. "I can't breathe. Please let me out of this corset?"

"Sorry, Ashley. It's for your own good. You'll thank me after you get the job at the television station."

"Then at least loosen it a little?"

"No, you need it just as it is. Once you get used to this size, we'll close it down a little more each evening until the sides meet. Being easy on you won't get the job done."

"Okay. I promise that I won't take it off or loosen it. But please don't leave me handcuffed all night?"

Lizbeth looked at me intently. "Okay, but if you touch the laces I'll chain you up every night until September."

"I won't. I promise."

Lizbeth took a set of keys from her pocket and removed the handcuffs, putting them back in the closet before saying goodnight and turning off the light as she left. I had two full months to go on my sentence and didn't doubt for a minute that Lizbeth would handcuff me every night if I resisted her. She must have been prepared for my resistance or she wouldn't have had the handcuff keys in her pocket. I still had the original set that Nicole had left on the dresser, concealed in my jewelry box, but I would never have been able to get it while chained up and wearing the corset. I promised myself that I wouldn't challenge Lizbeth again. She was the boss and I had to do what she said. I started to cry as I thought about my situation. A week ago I would have fought back tears with all my being, but it was okay for girls to cry, so I let them flow. I don't think that I could have stopped them no matter how much I wanted to. Lizbeth had brought me too far into womanhood already. I was still sobbing as I slipped off to into a deep sleep.

Another night of dreams about my life as a girl filled the hours until morning. I dreamed about dating George, and being seduced by him and other boys that I knew. Even if I wasn't a slut in real life, I was becoming one in my dreams. I wondered if other girls had such dreams. Again, I didn't have even one dream about myself as a male. It was only my fake breasts and severely compressed and punished genitals that allowed my conscious mind to keep a fragile and increasingly infrequent hold on that reality.

 

I awoke to Lizbeth's gentle shaking. "Ashley, wake up."

I opened my eyes and blinked. Lizbeth was leaning over me and I could feel my sodden pillow beneath my face. I must have continued crying for longer than I thought. "I'm awake. I promise to be a good girl from now on, Lizbeth. I'm sorry that I resisted last night. I hope that you'll forgive me, and it won't happen again."

Lizbeth held out her hands to me and pulled me up when I took them. I couldn't have gotten up by myself since the corset was so tight that I couldn't bend. Once I was up, she hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her also. She was wearing an almost transparent baby doll top with matching panties and nothing else, but it didn't turn me on. I knew that I had turned George on simply by licking and biting his ear while fully dressed, and in light of everything else that had happened to me, I didn't know what this new development was saying about me? I was able to turn men on, and was not being turned on myself when hugged by an almost naked girl. Even if she was my cousin, a guy should have felt something. The next step would probably have me getting turned on by guys. I know that I had started looking at men's butts since coming to stay with my cousins. At first it was only to see what the other girls were looking at and talking about, but now I found myself doing it whenever we went to the Mall or wherever there were men and boys around. The girls back home had talked about guy's butts, but I hadn't ever felt compelled to look. I was definitely changing, or being changed.

"I know that you'll be a good girl," she said. "And I know that you'll thank me later. If you can get this job, it will help define the rest of your life. Imagine returning to school as a famous newswoman. It'll give you a whole new focus on life."

"I won't be a famous newswoman if I get the job. It's only a weather person position. A trained seal could do it."

"Not at all! It takes intelligence and alacrity, of which you have both. Now we're going to help you with the third thing that you need, man-killer looks. I was serious when I said that you're as beautiful as those other girls. They just have the confidence from knowing that they’re beautiful. We're going to spend the day pampering you and preparing you for your interview. The first thing to do is take a nice long soak. Shave your legs and pits. Shampoo your hair, condition it, and then put it up. Turn around."

Lizbeth lifted my nightgown off and then attacked the laces on my corset. I hadn't looked in the mirror last night, but I was standing in front of one now and I was amazed at my figure. My waist appeared incredibly tiny in this corset, which made my tush look larger, even without the padded panty. I had to admit that I looked pretty sexy. As the corset was loosened and removed, my waist expanded slightly, but only slightly. I still had a definite female shape, at least as good as that of the average young girl.

"Stop admiring your bod and run your bath," Lizbeth said. "We have to get your corset back on as soon as possible. Every minute out of it at this point reverses the effect as your body tries to reestablish your old shape. Chop Chop."

I smiled and walked to the bathroom. I hadn't taken a bath in a long time. Usually I just took a real quick shower before school, and again on Saturday night. And since coming here I had only taken showers. I was standing over the bath testing the temperature of the water when Lizbeth came in and dumped in some bubble bath and bath crystals. The tub took on the wonderfully fragrant aroma of wildflowers.

"You're not in yet. Come on. We only have about nine hours left before we have to leave, and we're going to need every minute."

I pulled down my panties and stepped into the froth-covered water without even thinking about Lizbeth's presence. The water felt wonderful and the warmth started to relax me. I leaned back and closed my eyes, but it didn't last for long. Lizbeth went out and returned with a new disposable razor for me to use. I hadn't had to worry about hair since my legs had been waxed, and I couldn't feel any stubble, but Lizbeth wanted to make sure. I washed myself all over and then lathered my legs, using the razor to make sure that I didn't have a single hair stub. When my legs were done, I turned my attention to my pits, and it didn't take long before my pits were as hairless as my legs. I already knew that I didn't have any hair anywhere else. My last step was to shampoo my hair. I lathered it up, enjoying the sensation of the soap as I massaged my scalp. The tub was equipped with one of those shower massage heads on a long extension and I used that to rinse off after each shampoo. Then I applied the hair conditioner and leaned back to relax for the time interval stated on the bottle.

The warm water relaxed me so much that I dozed off. I was awaked violently by cold water being sprayed in my face by Lizbeth.

"LIZBETH," I screamed and sputtered through the spray.

"Oh, sorry, is that too cold?"

I grabbed the nozzle from her hands and turned it on her. She ran screaming from the bathroom. "What's the matter, too cold?" I shouted after her.

I added hot water until I got a good mix and then stood up to rinse off as the tub drained. The warm water had revitalized my shrunken genitals somewhat but my penis looked smaller than I remembered. I wondered if I would still be able to see it when my sentence was over. What's the difference, I thought? By then I probably won't even remember ever having been a boy and I'll be wondering why I have this strange appendage.

I dried myself off and powdered my body before returning to my bedroom. I didn't need the garter belt because the new padded panty had tabs. I put on my panties, stockings, bra, and a chemise, and then sat down at the makeup table to examine my face. There were a few eyebrow hair stubs sticking up so I went to work tweezing them.

Lizbeth stuck her head in the door, and then walked in. Retrieving the corset from where it was hanging, she held it out as I stood up without speaking, and raised my arms. In ten minutes I was once again struggling for breath as Lizbeth put all her strength behind pulling on the laces. When she was satisfied, she tied them off. Staying in character, I complained about the extreme tightness.

"Don't give me that," she said. I saw the look on your face when you saw your figure this morning. You're as impressed with the change as I am. Besides, I only tighten you down once each day. You're supposed to tighten twice because the laces and corset stretches when it's first put on. So you're supposed to wait ten minutes or so and tighten again. Would you prefer that?"

"No, Lizbeth." I walked over to the mirror. I again had the shape that you see in all fantasy art about women's figures, but which so few women have actually had since the Fifties. Even models no longer had such small waists. It seemed that in a few generations, women were going to have waists as thick as men's. The padded panty, the corset, and my fake chest gave me an incredible, fantasy, hourglass shape.

Lizbeth started going through my closet, selecting clothes and laying them on my bed. She selected a pair of black heels and put them on my feet, then had me put on a full slip.

"Let's go downstairs. Take those clothes down and I'll meet you there," she said before hurrying out.

I carried the clothes downstairs in my underwear and laid them over a chair before going over to the refrigerator and taking out the eggs and bacon. As a skillet warmed, Lizbeth came down.

"One egg and two pieces of bacon only. You can also have a glass of orange juice, and one piece of toast."

"Why, are we low on food?"

"Not at all. I just don't want you to fill up too much before you go to the station."

"But that's not until seven o'clock."

"If you eat too much now, you don't get lunch."

I sighed. "O-- kay."

"And take one of the tablets from each of those two medicine bottles."

"Medicine?"

"Yeah, Suzanne brought them home for you. She forgot to give them to you last night."

"What are they?"

"Vitamins, I guess. They're what the doctor prescribed after your blood test results came back."

Lizbeth set up her sewing machine and stuff while I cooked and ate. She had eaten earlier. When I was done, and had cleaned up, she told me to put on one of the dresses, then made alteration marks when I had.

We spent the rest of the morning altering clothes. When Lizbeth was done, all my better clothes were tailored for my new shape. I had previously only worn off the rack clothes, and none had ever been what you could call form-fitting. Truth be told, they were kind of baggy, as Mom always wanted room for me to grow into. Wearing clothes that hugged my body, and displayed real or manipulated assets, was a totally new experience. I think that she would have done all my clothes if there had been time.

After a light lunch, light for me that is, Lizbeth started working on my face. She completed what I had started in plucking hair stubs from my eyebrows and closely examined every millimeter of my face for imperfections. Then she gave me a pedicure, repainting my toenails because the original coat had begun to chip off. She removed the fake nails from my fingers using the super glue remover, and then put on new nails, almost twice as long as the old ones.

"Lizbeth, these aren't nails, they're claws," I complained. "I won't be able to use my hands."

"Don't worry, you'll be used to them by the time we go to the station tonight. Just don't slice the wrist of the interviewer tonight when you shake hands. Your other nails barely showed up on the television yesterday. I guarantee that everyone will notice these. And very long nails scream 'Feminine'."

"Is that good?"

"It is if you're trying to sell yourself as a beautiful, sexy woman. They're almost as useful as displaying cleavage. You know what they say, 'Sex sells.'"

"I'm not trying to sell myself. You're only making me look like a hooker."

"Of course you're trying to sell yourself. Every person who goes for a job interview is selling himself or herself. They're marketing their skills, looks, talent, and whatever, all wrapped up in one neat package. The ultra-tight clothes just make the package look that much more appetizing to a business where image is so important."

"You make it sound so crude."

"Maybe it is. It depends on what level you're willing to sink to get the job. I'm sure that some of the women in that room yesterday would have slept with the producer in a heartbeat, if it meant they'd get the job."

"What?"

"Sure, this is the real world, hon. It's not as bad as it was years ago, when women were virtually barred from a lot of positions, but many women, and even a few men, still sleep their way to the top. Especially in the entertainment and corporate environments."

"You don't think that's the purpose of today's interview do you? If it is, I might as well not even go. I'm not going to have sex just to get a summer job. Not this girl. No way."

"Relax. I didn't say anything of the sort. I just said that some of the girls would have done it. You made it to the finals on your own and I'm sure that the station manager just wants to meet you to find out if you're cooperative, and if you can follow directions. He already knows that you can do the job."

I relaxed. "I hope so."

When Lizbeth was finished with my hands, she had me lay down on a recliner and she started applying a 'beauty mask' to my face. Adding two slices of a cucumber to cover my eyes, she told me to relax as she put some classical music on. I dozed off after a while.

When Lizbeth woke me and peeled the mask off my face, I saw that she had dressed and was ready to go the station.

"Wonderful," she said. "Your face looks clear, clean, and as soft as a baby's bottom. We're not going to put very much makeup on you tonight. We want the natural beauty of your face to come though. We'll just use a little powder, eyeliner and shadow, mascara, eyebrow pencil, lip-liner and light pink lipstick."

She helped me up and told me to stand still while she adjusted my corset again.

"But it's already adjusted for the clothes."

"We don't want them to appear to be too tight. The striation marks from the corset laces will show."

After she had tightened me down slightly, she helped me dress in a plain black dress with a scooped neckline that intimated my apparent cleavage, without actually showing very much, and a black, leather belt trimmed in gold. Lizbeth had altered the dress so that it hugged my body, showing off my imposed curves. My shoes were black, single strap heels, and like most of my shoes, the heels were four-inch stiletto types.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Ashley. Your face is perfect, and with that long golden blonde hair cascading down over your shoulders and the black dress, you're going to make all the guys at the station have wet dreams."

By six-thirty we were ready to go and Lizbeth was getting nervous because Nicole wasn't home yet. She called Nicole's cell phone and Nicole answered, responding that she had just entered the driveway.

We grabbed our purses and hurried out to the car. I walked as fast as I could, swinging and rotating my hips to help me move faster in the extremely tight dress and heels.

 

  

  

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