Crystal's StorySite

Kristine Kynkaid              by: Karen Summerfield                     May 1998


"Sit down. I want to talk to your sister!" My girlfriend, Karen, had just gotten home from work and, for whatever reason, seemed in a bad mood. Her telling me that she wanted to talk to my 'sister', as she referred to Kristine, my femme persona, created real questions in my mind. Karen has known about Kristine since day one of our relationship and has been more than supportive, encouraging and a willing participant in my predilections. At the time I was dressed as David, not Kristine - dressed in jeans and long sleeved shirt.

I think I do an excellent female voice, soft, while being alto and broad page 2ranged. As I sat, I turned Kristine on, "I do something to make you angry?"

Sitting across from me, Karen smiled, "Not at all... Kristine.

"You've been out of work six weeks now and haven't found anything so far." I was about to defend myself. Holding up her hand, "I know, with Martin closing their plant, there's two thousand other people out and looking too." Her smile broadening, "I've got a deal for you, Kristine.

"Marci is going out on maternity leave in two weeks, leaving us with no one to fill in, since Julie got married and moved. I had a long lunch with Monica, today. Laid out everything, I do mean the whole truth about you, Kristine. She wouldn't promise... wouldn't promise anything more than to give Kristine an interview, Monday morning, 9 o'clock."

"You're serious?"

"Damn right, I'm serious. Look, right now, with your unemployment check, we're making it, what are we going to do when that runs out?"

"I'll find something."

"Sure, right along with thousands of ex-coworkers. Right now, I doubt there are many jobs even pumping gas at minimum wage around here and we both know how much money isn't in the checking account.

"I've long suspected that my boss had a kinky side and she confirmed it by agreeing to the interview, Kristine."


"No 'buts'. Tomorrow is a holiday and that gives us three whole days to get you prepared and to practice. Besides, you always have said how you've fantasized about this. Well... fantasy just met reality."

Karen had me pegged. Ever since I can remember, I've been a TV and this was one of my biggest fantasies. Karen got along fine with Kristine and had broadened my experience base by encouraging me to go out, dressed; something I'd never worked up the courage to do before meeting her.

We had the supper I'd prepared and spent a couple of more hours discussing everything and what we might do in the three days before my interview.

Monica owned a design company, specializing in some pretty classy advertising, employing 20, all females. I'd met her only once, last December, at the Christmas party. Hispanic, fairly tall, with an exquisite face and thick black hair reaching to below her waist. Though politely friendly towards me, I could tell she was all business and not the type to have you want to be on her 'enemies' list. Marci, the pregnant one, was her receptionist, a very cute, petite brunette, with a pixie hairdo and face to match. All Monica's employees were attractive, no bow-wows in her employ, and she insisted on a dress code, no pants, no flats, nor the clean-scrubbed look. Also, only herself and Sherri, the Office manager were permitted to wear anything resembling a suit.

Kristine is quite skilled doing her makeup and fixing her bra length, dark brown hair into nice feminine hairdos and has a fairly decent wardrobe. Karen, however, insisted that we go shopping in the morning to find just the 'right' outfit for my interview. Since overcoming my initial fears, we shopped often together and I was quite fond of it. I'd decided on going casual, with my hair in a ponytail and was pulling my black jeans on over my pantyhose when Karen stopped me. "Uh, unh, Kristine. Take them off, not today."

"Why not, I usually wear jeans when I go out?"

"Look, wear them if you really want, but look at yourself, sitting there on the bed struggling to get them up as tight as they are. Today we'll be shopping for office wear and you'll need to be trying things on to assure they look and fit right. Imagine getting into and out of them in a small changing booth." She had a very valid point. "Why not wear this?" she asked, extending my full denim skirt.

As I smoothed it to a few inches above my knees, Karen handed me my white angora, turtleneck sweater. "Wear your red heels and matching belt." I carefully maneuvered my sweater over my head avoiding getting any makeup on it, wrapped the 2" belt over fuzzy sweater over my skirt and went to the closet for the shoes.

While I looked in the mirror, "Don't you think four inch spikes are a bit much with this skirt, Kar'?"

"No, you look sexy. Besides, Monica likes to see us in heels. Sometimes I think she's les, but seeing the guys she's dated, I wonder. You can use my red purse if you'd like."

Karen had dressed herself all in black: snug turtleneck pullover, tight mini, tights and knee boots with three-inch heels. Being early October, it was still warm enough that we didn't need jackets or coats. She drove to the mall timing it to arrive just when they opened. Already, with the Columbus Day sales, it was crowded.

Very easily, I got into the swing of shopping and Karen was a great help, picking out things for me to try on. We had been very selective, not buying that much, trying not to overextend our credit cards. She did splurge a bit on one item; a sterling anklet engraved, simply, "Karen's". It gave me a real trill when she insisted on putting it on me in the jewelry store with the two guys and girl giggling when they figured we were a pair of lesbians. Playing up the act, Karen looked stern as she paid.

"You are to wear that all of the time, Kristine. Do not ever let me catch you without it or the punishment I gave you last time will seem like child's play.

"Come." I turned beet red and she could barely contain her fit of laughter until we were in the corridor.

"Did you see their faces? That was great!" That act would prove to be a prelude to things to come.

It took Karen all of Saturday morning to apply a set of super acrylic nails on me. They were over an inch beyond my fingertips when she finished shaping them and began to apply the first coat of polish. "Karen, I can't wear nails this long." I protested. I'd tested these and, while feeling great, made doing simple things difficult.

"Can't? That's strange, you already are," she grinned.

"But I'll never be able to do any work with them."

"You'll learn. Necessity is the mother of invention." Her own nails were long, but only half the length of the set she'd given me. They looked gorgeous and I'd seen her use her knuckles and sides of her fingers to do things that I was used to doing with my fingertips. "You have the rest of today and all day tomorrow to practice." I wondered about the changes in the way she was beginning to assume a much more dominate role in our relationship. Before the last, topcoat of clear polish, she carefully used a tweezers to position tiny rhinestones into an ornate "K's" on each of my pinkie nails.

"I want no mistake about who you belong to, Kristine."

She woke me earlier than usual on Monday, insisting I remove all body hair though I'd just done it Friday. The night before she had spent an hour trimming my hair then setting it. It was the first time I'd the dubious pleasure of trying to sleep while wearing curlers. Despite my pleas, she refused to tell me all that she'd done to my hair. "You'll see in the morning when it's finished."

I dressed in elastic, white bikinis, tight enough to hold all evidence tucked back and up between my legs, Sheer Energy, L'Eggs pantyhose in black, my white under wire bra and my carefully positioned set of silicone filled forms in its C cups. I put on a white satin full slip with delicate lace cups and hem then sat to do my makeup. "You'll make a better impression on Monica, do remember she prefers Monica over Miss Pennasso and never use the 'Ms' abomination when she can hear, Kristine. Monica likes us to use a bit more makeup that most offices permit."

"What do you suggest?"

"Up to you, Hun'. Other than doing your hair, you're not getting any more help from me."

I sat at her fully lighted vanity and studied my face a few minutes before getting started. After setting my hair the night before, Karen had 'thinned and evened my eyebrows'. What she'd actually done was to pluck out all but thin lines, starting above the inner corners and ending over my pupils, about three quarters of an inch long and angled upwards. I'd seen them when shaving extra smooth, but there was nothing I could do to replace what had been pulled out.

Makeup done, heavier than I would have chosen on my own, Karen added more mascara, liner and blush before starting on my new hairdo. She was an expert and finished brushing and spraying it fairly quickly. "Get dressed." I turned to see very full bangs to below what she'd left of my brows that I'd darkened with pencil and a full mane of soft waves, framing my face. Despite my makeup, I thought it all looked better than any look I'd previously achieved.

For my interview, I'd chosen my dark green, long sleeved, knit, sheath dress that ended several inches above my knees, a cheetah print suede belt, black calfskin, four inch heeled pumps and silver jewelry: two herringbone chains, thin watch, one ring and one inch clip-on, hoop earrings. Despite my efforts, I had to ask Karen to put on my anklet and finish closing the back zipper. My nails just would not let me do these myself any longer.

At the mall I'd bought a black envelope purse about nine by twelve inches that matched the leather of my shoes. I filled this with the makeup I'd just applied, a compact, my femme wallet, keying and a package of tissues. Karen had me put in another pair of pantyhose, 'just in case of a run', a steno pad, two pens and copies of my resume that we'd edited the afternoon before. Not quite finished, she used her Shalimar and liberally dabbed it under my ears, on my neck, both wrists, hollows of my knees and ankles.

I was told to model for her, "You'll do just fine. I'm sure."

My stomach was full of butterflies; all I had was OJ, while Karen had her normal breakfast and coffee. "I'll rinse up. I don't want anything to happen to those nails." Since she'd put them on me, I'd not been allowed to do anything that might ruin them.

"Just be yourself," she advised. "You do a very good job of being Kristine and there's nothing to be afraid of." Karen turned off her car in her parking spot.

Not asking, she took my purse from my lap. From it she took my keys and all but 5 singles from my wallet plus my driver's license. "Why'd you do that?" I had to ask when she put it back on my thighs.

She grinned like the Cheshire cat, "What 's engraved on your anklet, Kristine?"


"What's that mean?"

"You and I are together." I almost said boyfriend and girlfriend, but caught it and said, "Girlfriends."

"You got it part right. Out!" she was getting out her side. The electric door locks clicked. Coming around. "Take a walk. It's a nice morning. Don't be too early and do not be late! Good luck! Mean that." She turned and started walking away, towards the office building.

It took me a few moments to realize I was standing in the parking lot, doing nothing, but causing suspicion. Careful in my heels, I walked to the sidewalk and then followed it to the street. The office complex was across from a park and that is where I went. It was nice. Sitting beside a lake, I was able to relax and think about what I was doing and the changes that were taking place in my life. I also decided that I really liked the prospect that this might really be for real and not some joke Karen had conspired with Monica to play on me, which had seemed to be a real possibility. At eight forty, I took out my compact, checked my makeup and freshened my red lipstick.

It was eight fifty-three when I entered the office. Marci definitely looked very pregnant. With my heart going a mile a minute and my stomach in my throat, I walked up to her console. Hearing my heels click on the tiles, she raised her eyes and smiled. "May I help you, Miss?"

"Ahh... I'm Kristine Kynkaid. I have an appointment with Miss Pennasso," I extended my revised resume.

Not taking it, she passed me a clipboard, "Please have a seat, fill this out and bring it to me when done."

Growing more nervous by leaps and bounds, I looked for a seat and slowly walked to sit, smoothing my dress under my thighs as I did. It was the usual 'Application for Employment' from a stationary store. I knew these from memory, having filled out so many. Luckily, I caught myself before checking the box next to M.

Marci smiled nicely at me as I returned the clipboard. "Would you like coffee? Tea? Miss Kynkaid?"

"No. Thank you."

"Have a seat again, please? Miss Pennasso should be with you shortly. I'll take your resume now." I felt foolish, fumbling because of my stupid nails, to open my purse and get it out again. Why couldn't she have just taken it when I'd had offered it before?

Returning to where I'd filled out the application and resat the best that I could. It didn't take very long to realize that Marci was staring with an ear-to-ear grin at me. Seeing that I knew she'd been watching, she stood, "Get used to it, Miss Kynkaid. Goes with the job." Still grinning with my papers in her hand and her big belly forcing her to waddle, Marci left the lobby down the hall.

She was back in a few minutes and sat behind the glass slab that was her workstation. She still grinned at me, "Before getting pregnant, I was pretty cute. Monica likes us to make a good impression on the clients. The receptionist is the first they see and, often, they must wait. We give them something to occupy their thoughts so they don't get too bored. Know what I mean, Miss Kynkaid?"

I'd really nothing to say to that. The minutes seemed like hours. At nine forty-six, Marci spoke, "Miss Kynkaid, looks like Monica is still busy. Want to come over here and I'll start to show you the job. Even if you don't get hired, you might use this on your next interview."

Bored silly and the idleness just rubbing my nerves raw, I rose and walked over to her. She stood, "Sit here." I took her place on the backless chair. She pushed it under the slab then carefully placed her headset on my ear and adjusted the microphone. "OK. This is the switchboard. You answer incoming calls, 'Pennasso Graphic Designs. This is Kristine. How may I serve your desires, please?' " Giggling when my head snapped to face hers. "Just do it, Kris'."

She took out another headset and put it on after plugging it in, "You'll hear me, but callers won't." I heard in my ear.

"This is the fax machine. Directions are pretty simple." She ran through them. "Copier, Monica insists on copies, on real paper. Never give her a fax on that curly paper, copy it first, but save the original."

Returning to the switchboard, Marci explained the details of it.

Nothing happened and the phone hadn't rung. After fifteen minutes she joked, "Tough job, huh? Think you can handle this?"

I shrugged, "Sure."

Marci took off her headset, "Going to powder my nose." She left me alone.

No sooner than she'd closed the door across the lobby, then the phone beeped. I saw it was an internal call and pushed the button to connect. "Kristine. May I help you?"

"Who...? Never mind. Where's Marci?"

I'd searched the directory and it was Monica's phone. "She went to the girl's room, Miss Pennasso."

The phone went dead and heels, approaching, foretold that she was coming toward the lobby. Dressed in a plum wool suit, black hose and extremely high heels, Monica stopped a few feet from me, glaring. Before I could do anything else, an outside call came in. "Good morning. Pennasso Graphic Designs. This is Kristine. How may I serve your pleasure, please?" I heard Monica chuckle as the guy answered. It was a call for Monica. Debating just a moment, I responded, "Miss Pennasso is occupied with another matter at this time. May I take your name, phone number and have her return your call, please?" He gave them to me. When I'd written it all down on the pink message pad and repeated it back to confirm. "May I serve you more, Sir?" I answered, "I'm taken. Thank you for your offer, Sir." and disconnected.

Monica glared at me when I looked up. She shook 'no' with her arms, folded under her breasts. Not moving until Marci returned, her finger pointed toward me and flicked toward the corridor from which she'd arrived. I rose to see Marci give me a thumbs-up and silently mouth 'Good Luck'.

Still acting stern and annoyed, Monica stood, awaiting me, "Model for me." I turned and gave her a curtsey when facing again. "Again." I repeated my act. "Sit.", pointing to a chair and moving to sit behind her desk.

I tried my best to sit gracefully, knees and feet together, smooth my dress under and point my feet back as I rested my butt on the front of the chair with hand holding my purse in my lap. Settled, albeit uncomfortably, I met her black eyes. Monica's lips widened, slowly, into a big smile that exposed her perfect, white teeth. "I'm quite surprised, most pleasantly surprised, Kristine.

"It is a 'do nothing, go nowhere' job. Look pretty, answer the phone, handle the fax, make copies, do the mail. Any bimbo should be able to handle it, easily. Pay's four hundred a week, full benefits, twelve holidays, two weeks vacation. You want it?"

Just like that? That was my interview?

"Yes, please?" I answered nervously. "When would you like me to start, Miss Pennasso?"

"Monica. Do not forget again. You just have.

"Before we conclude, there are a few details that I want your owner to agree also. OK?"

"My owner?" I was being stupid, I quickly realized.

"What is engraved on your pretty ankle bracelet, Kristine?"


"As in you belong to Karen, right...? Karen owns you. You are her slave."

"I..., I'd never thought of our relationship quite like that."

"No, I suppose not." She picked up her phone and pushed a preset number, "Monica. Come to my office, please?"

She grinned until Karen arrived. Karen gave me just a brief look, before devoting her full attention to Monica."

"Sit down, please?" When Karen had, Monica, "I've offered your 'girlfriend' the job, Karen. I'm sure she'll do fine. "Four hundred dollars a week all benefits, acceptable?"

"That's up to Kristine, Monica."

Shaking her head, "I think it's up to you. You bought that ankle bracelet and I doubt she's yet acquired the skills to fasten it on herself, not with those killer nails, Karen. I also doubt she put your initial on her pinkies, by herself." I wanted to say that these were also my initials, but hadn't thought of it quickly enough.

Opening a low drawer beside her, Monica came up with a handful of twenty-dollar bills. "I want your girl tightly corseted, I do expect visible results and I want her in a real steel chastity belt. I'll be patient about how long one of those takes to acquire." I watched her count out eight hundred dollars and move them towards Karen.

"I understand the corset, please explain the chastity belt, Monica?"

"Pretty simple," she leaned her chair back, "I just hired a very attractive receptionist, named Kristine. " she lifted my application to read and set it down, "Kristine Cynthia Kynkaid. Nice girl.

"You and the rest of the girls here are quite attractive. I wish to assure that my new receptionist does not engage in any sort of ungirlish behavior here or off duty. I shall control the key. If her performance warrants, I shall loan you the key, occasionally. I promise that I will never permit any other to use it and I will not use it myself."

I saw Karen grin at me. "That is most generous and reasonable. Thank you, Monica."

Monica faced me, "Before you report tomorrow, I want to see some real commitment, Kristine." She slid sixty dollars toward me, "Get some pretty earrings and the holes to wear at least 3 pairs at the same time. Today!"

She leaned back again, "Karen, perhaps you might enjoy an early and a long lunch today." We were being dismissed.

Karen waited for me to stand motioned me out with her. Passing through the lobby she said, "Marci, I'll be out for awhile."

"Well congrats on the job, Kristine. Told you, you could do it!"

I waited until she stopped to exit the parking lot to answer, "A corset and chastity belt weren't part of this, Karen."

"Neither was more pay than you made on your last job and a lot more than you got from unemployment. Don't like it. I'll drive home and you can be gone, as in moved out, before I return from work, Kristine.

"We made an agreement to share all expenses when you moved in. Lately, you are quite a bit behind. Want to decline the job? Fine. Make it all on your own. What's it going to be?" She paused at the lot exit. "Left for the mall or home to pack?"

"I'll let you get my ears pierced."

"Let me?" Laughing, "You got that wrong. Monica passed the cash, for that, to you, Kristine."


"Karen, I don't want to be in a chastity belt."

"I didn't hear you tell Monica that.

"I'll state something I've never discussed with you, Kristine. It really pisses me off that you play with yourself. I give you good sex, at least it seems that I have. You are never satisfied though. I wish I'd thought up a chastity belt for you. One I'd control. I was quite pleased hearing that Monica was going to control the access. You'll be more than able to satisfy me with your lips, tongue and fingers. Now you'll need to be earning the privilege of Monica giving me your key and then I'll need to be in just the right mood to use it before I return it. I do hope the lock is one who's key can not be easily duplicated."

We walked, together, into the mall. "There's the piercing kiosk, Kristine. Pick three pairs of earrings, stay clear of gold and you'll have enough money. Piercings included if you buy earrings. I want four in your left and three in your right."

Protesting, "Monica said I had to get only three in each, Karen."

"And I told you what I want.

"Meet you in the food court." Karen just walked away from me.

I was a mess. All this was coming down much too fast! Here I was, totally en femme in my green sheath, standing in the middle of the mall in my heels and ordered to do something I really was not geared up for. Gathering my courage, I walked to the kiosk and started to look through their selection.

It wasn't anywhere what I imagined. Very proud of the seven silver toned studs in my ears I sat next to Karen with a big smile. "Good for you, Kristine. I told you that you could do this."

We decided to have lunch in one of the better restaurants, rather than the fast food offered in the food court. She filled me in on all my new coworkers and more about the company than I'd previously known. Too soon, it was time to return to the office.

Marci told me that Monica wanted to see me and I went to her office. "I think that it would be a nice touch if you curtseyed to me and all the others, Kristine." Her look indicated I should do one then. "Again. Go much deeper this time, not just a little dip like that one was." She had me do three more, until satisfied. "You curtsey entering or leaving any office, when spoken to and to visitors when they enter the lobby. Understood?"

"Yes, Monica." I curtseyed again.

"Very good. Why don't you ask Karen to take a few moments to show you around the office and introduce you to everyone, Kristine? After that, I think all the plants in the office could be watered and otherwise tended to, part of your job. By the way, no one, but Karen and I, are to know your big secret, OK?"

"That will be fine with me. Thank you, Monica."

On the way home Karen upped the ante. "Kristine, now that you have a full time job, I think that you will also begin living as a full time girl." Her look told me that there was more coming. She knew that I knew, by her grin. "I'll do supper tonight. I want you to pack up every vestige, I do mean everything, of David and we'll drop the clothes off in the Goodwill bin on the way in tomorrow, the rest goes in the trash. Is that clear?"

"Do you want me to begin addressing you as 'Mistress' too?"

"Don't be smart with me. No, Karen or Kar' is fine, at least for now.

"Since you'll soon be in a chastity belt, I see no reason for you not to begin taking hormones so you won't need to wear these any longer," she reached over and squeezed my silicone breast. I was not at all pleased with all changes in my life that wearing a chastity belt would bring. "I want you, all on your own, to make a doctor's appointment to get things going. Yes, I am serious."

"Karen... " my words stuck in my throat. "Karen, does this mean that you and I will no longer have sex together?"

"We'll still have lots of sex, silly, just no more boy-girl sex. It will be girl-girl sex, that's all.

"Don't fret about it.

"You, again all on your own, will apply for a name change and obtain all the necessary papers, Social Security, birth certificate, checking account, license, credit cards, whatever."

I was crying when we entered the house, "Kristine, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Isn't this your fantasy come true?"

"Please. Please Kar'? It's too much!" My tears flowed freely.

"Come on. Get a grip." She stated to be very soft and soothing. "This is what you want. I can understand that all, coming one atop the other, may seem a bit overwhelming, but it all is happening... and now. Go upstairs, dry your eyes and fix your makeup. I'll make us a nice supper."

Somehow, how I don't understand, I was able to do just as she'd told me to, stop crying and fix my makeup pretty.

She must have heard my heels on the stairs and met me with a glass of white wine, "Here, this might help you relax. Supper's started, come, sit with me."

I did as she suggested, sitting next to her on the couch. Karen had the candles lit and soft music on the stereo. "Kristine, it has been a busy day for you. I accept that. Since I started all of this on Friday, I've had lots of time to think and have decided that this is really the way I want you to be and to be with you." She rested her cheek on my false breast and snuggled close.

"Mmmmh. You smell soooo pretty," she cooed

"It's your perfume. Careful, I'm going to steal it from you."

"No, you aren't. It's yours. Shalimar fits your personality, Kristine. My gift."

She lifted off and sat straight. "Be honest, first with yourself then with me. All that happened today and the things that both Monica and I told you that you are going to do... it really is what you really wants, isn't it, Dear?"

"Yes." I was reluctant to say this, but had admit it."

She pushed me to get up. "You are to be dressed all of the time, including makeup, jewelry and heels, except to sleep then you'll wear a nightie.

"There are trash bags for David's stuff under the kitchen sink. Get started, I'll call you for supper."

As I started for the kitchen, Karen called, "Don't let me catch you without your heels on or you'll be in trouble." After having worn them the entire day that was the one thing I wanted to do more than others, kick them off.

It was past none o'clock when I completed my assignment and Karen inspected to assure that I had. "May I just keep some things for when we have guests, my relatives visit or we have to visit them, please?"

Her glare told me her answer before her sharp, "No!

"You are Kristine Cynthia Kynkaid and no one else. There will be no pretending you are someone else. I suppose the next silly thing you'd ask is to cut your nails and put tape on your ears so no one knows otherwise. Don't be absurd, Kristine.

"Go clean off your makeup and take care of your ears. I'll loan you a night gown until we go shopping again."

In the morning, I dressed in a yellow, long sleeved blouse and black, slender mini, with black pantyhose and the heels I'd worn the day before. I was getting a little better with my nails and didn't need any help except putting on my anklet, as I still couldn't work its tiny catch.

Just as she'd said, Karen stopped at the bin, so I could deposit the full bags into it.

Closing the lid was closing my past. I turned and began toward my future.




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