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Ton of Bricks

by Jenn Hendricks

 

Chapter 1 – The Silver Lining

 

It hit me like a ton of bricks. She was leaving me for…as she said a "real" man.

It was July 7th a Friday morning just three weeks before our 5th wedding anniversary and we were supposed to be heading off for a three-month vacation to Europe, the French Riviera, Spain, and Greece, her dream vacation. It was slow season for me; I had passed off most of my important clients to my partner in the firm and had not recently taken on any new projects.

I looked around our apartment, she was gone but everything else was there. She hadn't taken anything other than personal effects. Almost everything was mine anyway. She had met someone else, rich important and studly. She had been seeing him for almost a year now, which coincidentally is about the time I finally confessed my crossdressing. I assured her that I was 100% hetro and at first she seemed to be into the lipstick lesbian thing. It was some of the best sex we had ever had (or at least the best I had had).

At least she didn't want anything except for out; this was fortunate as an IT consultant I had already accumulated considerable wealth and at least she wasn't taking half. She already had a divorce attorney and said she'd be sending the papers over as soon as the six-month required separation period was over. As far as she was concerned she never had to see me again.

I had called the travel agent to see what she could do about canceling the trip. She said it was too late but she said she see if she could dump the package for me. I ended up getting about $15,000 of the almost $27,000 I had put down for the trip…well at least someone was getting a cheap dream vacation.

While it was initially a shock I was strangely at ease. We had not been close about the last six months. I blamed it on being busy at work and maybe us getting a little complacent with the whole marriage thing and for some reason it didn't surprise me. There was a lot of upside; she didn't really like me dressing except for the once monthly lesbian fling she enjoyed. I had tried dressing up one Saturday morning so that I could spend the whole weekend enfemm but she treated me like a freak. She only liked my dressing for the sex, she didn't understand that sometimes I wanted to dress just to express my female side. Now I could dress as much as and whenever I wanted.

I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. Four months off and $15,000 spend… what to do? It didn't take long for me to conclude that I was going to spend much of the foreseeable future in my own little TV heaven.

I went down to the storage room of our apartment, found my box of female clothes and hauled it up stairs. I carefully hung my femm clothes in the now almost empty, walk-in closet. Over the past year or so I had accumulated a modest wardrobe. Some lingerie, a few really slutty outfits, some heals but nothing really. I took the wig from the box and placed it on the styrofoam form. I gently teased it with my finger and realized I probably didn't need it anymore. I had let my own hair grow out and it now almost reached my shoulder blades, I'd have to see what I could do about a style.

It was only nine in the morning, I poured the last cup of coffee from the pot and sat down at the kitchen table to plan my next four months. There was a place in town that did transvestite transformations. I had been at their internet site a numbers of times and knew they offered a complete line of services but I had never thought of having anything done.

I never really thought I had to, I never went out en femme and when I did dress I thought I'd be very passable. At only 5'7, 140lbs I had the right size, I ran a couple times a week but still seemed to accumulate a little fat on my butt. This was a constant source of ribbing in school but as a TV it was an added bonus. I loved the way my panties rode my hips. My skin was soft and clear and I didn't even really need foundation when I did my make-up.

Hands shaking I dialed the number, and explained what I wanted done. I was told it would take a good part of the day and that I should show up at ten. I was told to only bring with me what I planned on wearing when I left. A big smile came to my face….wearing when I left, the phrase kept repeating in my mind. I had never been out as Jenn, crossdressing had always been a private thing for me, behind the safety of closed doors. I was sure I could pass though, even with my limited skills I could make myself look really good, and in the hands of a professional, who knows. I had been working on my voice during my commute to and from work with my little hand held tape recorder. With the help of the Melanie Philips video and a lot of practice my femme voice was impeccable, in fact after talking as Jenn for a while I often found it hard to go directly back into my male voice. I could laugh, I could cry, I could giggle like a schoolgirl all in the sultry voice of Jenn.

I walked to the bathroom and started running a bath, I had to start getting ready. I soaked in the scented water and touched up my body hair. I had been keeping my body shaved from the ears down since I confessed my crossdressing but it had been a week or so since I shaved and I needed a touch up. Fortunately my body hair was thin and sparse, despite having been a week since shaving I probably could have gotten away without the razor, but tomorrow was going to be a big day. Even my facial hair was thin, I only shaved once a week and then only to get rid of the thin white hairs that grew on my cheeks and made me look like a pubescent boy trying to grow a beard. I couldn't grow a beard if my life depended on it. I washed and conditioned my long hair twice and then gave myself a hot oil treatment. My entire life I had great hair. When I'd go for a cut I was always told how nice it was, so thick, so healthy. Other than a slight trim now and then I hadn't had my hair cut for almost a year and a half and it was well past my ears at that time; it was now down to my shoulder blades. In male mode I always just pulled it back into a mans ponytail.

When the water began to cool I finally dragged my self out of the tub. I dried myself off and wrapped my hair in a towel turban that rested atop my head. I loved what I saw in the mirror, the towel turban looked so utterly feminine, and with my towel wrapped around my bust like a woman I looked like a sweet young thing after the bath. I slipped into my wife's pink terry robe that hung on the back of the door (she must have missed it!). I dug in the drawer to find the volume attachment for my hair drier then went to work on my hair. My slender fingers tousled it, as I worked the hairdryer. As it eventually dried I started getting great volume and my cock began to rise. My hair looked great I couldn't wait for my appointment tomorrow. I pulled it back into a ponytail setting it a little higher than I would in male mode. I pulled the tail tight from the back pulling on sections of hair as it tighten on my scalp. I stopped and turned my head to see the femme tail gently swoop down to my neck. My knees got weak. I was almost ready for today's shopping trip.

I slid on my most cleavage-creating bra, and coaxed some of the flesh on my chest into the cups. I slipped on a matching panty and garter, grabbed a pair of stockings and sat at my wife's vanity to roll them on. As I set them down on the vanity one of my rough nails snagged on the shear material. I looked at my longish but untidy nails and decide to do something about them. I applied a cuticle conditioner and as it worked I filed and shaped the tips. I then pushed back the cuticles and used a three-sided polisher to buff them to a lustrous shine, I then applied a clear coat of polish. Looked down at my feet and thought what the heck, and gave my feet the same treatment except instead of the clear cote I applied a sexy red…it felt so naughty.

I slid the black stockings up my legs. I followed with a camisole, a v-neck sweater from my male clothes and a pair of my boy mode Khakis. I grabbed a pair of loafers and sat down to put them on. Should I wear socks? 'No, the pant cuff will cover the fact I'm wearing stockings, no one will notice', I thought to myself. I slid my stocking feet into the loafers, they felt so loose without men's socks, and my feet seemed to swim in them. I stepped in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the door. With my small but noticeable mounds and my fem ponytail I could barely pass for a guy. My nails really seemed to shine and on closer inspection it appeared as though there was a slight glitter to the clear polish, oh well. I really looked like a sissy but I didn't have the courage to actually shop en femm yet. I thought for a second about butching the look up a bit but…fuck it…I grabbed my wallet and keys and headed out the door.

I looked up at the numbers on the elevator and counted down the 28 floors from the penthouse. The car stopped on the main floor and I started walking the length of the lobby toward the elevator to the parkade.

As I passed the security station in the middle of the lobby an unfamiliar voice said, "Wellll Goood Moorrnning".

I looked over and saw a security guard that I'd never seen before. I looked toward him smiled, nodded and continued walking. Well that was strange; was he mocking me? I thought to myself for a sec then it hit me….I was walking like a girl. Not just a little feminine bounce but the full toe pointed, one foot in front of the other hips swaying runway stride. Even the way I looked over at him and smiled was feminine….fuck…I had tossed my hair when I looked over and smiled. I distinctly remember flicking my head so my ponytail made an extra little bounce. What the hell was I doing! Maybe it was the sexy feeling of my tightly nylon encased legs rubbing against the loose Khakis, maybe the fact I was finally about to live an extended time as a girl; who knows? I took a quick glance back and the security guard was watching me and seemed to smile as I looked back. I took most of the swish out of my walk and continued to the parkade elevator.

 

Chapter 2 – Would you like a feather boa with that…you can super-size for 69 cents.

 

I drove out of the city to one of the bedroom communities about an hour or so away. There was supposed to be a really nice mall and my ex and I didn't know anyone around there so the odds of being seen shopping for lingerie were slim. When I shopped in the past I had always made up stories about shopping for a gift for my wife, I always made sure to ask for gift box and ask where a good place to buy cards was, but today was going to be different. I could really care less, if anyone pushed the subject I would tell them the truth, the way I looked no one would doubt it. Otherwise I would just turn down the offers for help. I knew what sizes I need and didn't really plan on trying much on anyway.

My first stop was the Victoria Secret where I dropped a fortune. You know how they say you shouldn't go grocery shopping when you're hungry? Well TV's shouldn't go lingerie shopping when they're horny. I had decided that with my stature a d-cup would look natural (but large tee hee) and I bought countless bra and panty sets, garters, stockings, slips, chemise, peignoirs, nightgowns you name it. The sweet little sales girl who at first assumed I was a freak was soon bending over backwards to help me, I assume she works on commission. Just as I thought I was done she ran up to me with this stunning baby doll nightie. It was opaque white charmeuse, marabou trim around the hem, a fitted lace bodice with padded push up cups, and a tiny matching g-string. I was an easy sale she then produced a robe, it wasn't part of the same set but it definitely worked, it was sheer white chiffon, a few inches longer than the baby doll with marabou around the collar, sleeves and hem. She then grabbed a pair of white marabou trimmed slippers with a three-inch heel and to complete the outfit a white ostrich feather boa. I was blushing brightly as she held each item up to me and wrapped the boa around my neck. It was a good thing the store was empty.

As I walked out of the store I was so weighed down that I could hardly move. I had five large VS bags stuffed full of unmentionables, there was no way I could lug this around the mall so I made my first of fives trips to the car to unload. The rest of the day was a blur. I created a sizable summer wardrobe, suits, shoes, tops, skirts, shoes, jeans, capris, hip-huggers, shoes, pants, sweater sets, sportswear, shoes, shoes, even a one piece swim suit. I got my other ear pieced, and both twice, I bought a ton of costume jewelry and a few purses at the "Accessory Place".

I spent at least an hour while the obviously gay guy at the Mac's counter in Fjordstrom's tested colours on me. I bought everything he suggested and more. As I made the mistake of telling him my story and plans while he worked on me he wouldn't let me leave the store until he had the girl from the perfume station cover me in samples. I bought two complete lines from her. As I exited the store Paul from the Mac's counter ran up to me and thrust a piece of paper in my right hand and said, "if you actually go through with this call me and I'll give you the make over to die for"

I thanked him and put the paper in my pocket…I might just call that marker.

The entire drive home I wondered at how uninhibited I had been, I told everyone who asked what I was doing and everyone was supportive…again commissions…I wonder? As I pulled into the underground parking in my building I suddenly realized that I'd have to make at least five trips through the lobby to and from the penthouse, carrying stuffed shopping bags from some of the best ladies shops in the state, while passing "Mr. Wellgoodmorning" every time.

'No relax', I thought, that was at least eight hours ago...he must be off by now. Why couldn't it be one the regular Barney Fifes who's never at the station anyway? Maybe he won't be there.

I grabbed my first armload of bags and stepped into the parking elevator. As the doors opened at the lobby I saw Mr. Wellgoodmorning look toward me as the bell announced my arrival. I didn't make eye contact with him and made a manly beeline to the elevator, I could feel his eyes burning through me. Well that wasn't so bad I thought as I stood back in the elevator and counted up the 28 floors.

On the fourth and final trip I had finally worked my way down to the Victoria Secret stuff in the bottom of the trunk. I piled on one massive load and trudged toward the parkade elevator. I should really have made another trip but I just wanted to get this over with. Again as the doors opened Mr. Wellgoodmorning stared at me as I walked across the highly polished marble floor. Again I made a beeline to the elevator. This time as I approached the Guard station he asked, "can I give you hand?

"No thanks, last load", I replied not shifting my stare.

Just as I finished responding…wham…I was on the floor. I'd tripped on the carpet runner to the security station. My left shoe flew off and skipped across the hard floor. I tried to extend my arms to stop my fall but I was too weighed down and I crashed hard.

I awoke a few seconds later, the guard was kneeling beside me; the loafer that had flown off was resting at my side. He was gently slapping my facing repeating, "wake up, wake up".

"I'm up", I responded with very little authority. I sat up looked toward the apartment elevator. Along the path a good part of my Victoria's Secret purchases were no longer a secret. Mr. Wellgoodmorning got up and started gathering up my undies. I tried to scramble up and help him but my stockinged foot slid against the polished floor and I fell once again, although much less dramatically.

He ran to my side and helped me up. He grabbed my hand like he was helping a lady up and gently took the fingers of my left hand into his. Under the light of the lobby the sparkle in that clear nail polish was radiant and he had to have noticed. He got me on my feet and said, "don't try to move just stay right here".

He took a few steps, grabbed my shoe and handed it to me. I threw it to the floor and watched my pedicured, stocking foot slip into the shoe. Without taking my eyes off the floor I said, "thanks".

He had to have seen to my toenails, I'd be the talk of the building.

"You sure you're okay", he asked.

"Yeah I'm fine", I responded, "just a little red in the face".

"No need to be….anyone could trip on that carpet…it's a nuisance", he replied. "Hey, my name's Abe, I'll be here for a few weeks, Reg had a minor heart attack yesterday."

"That's too bad", I said, as I started to collect the rest of my things from the floor.

"Here let me give you a hand", he offered.

"No, that's alright, you've seen enough already", I replied.

"Okay" he said dejectedly, turning back towards his station, "but at least you have good taste".

My face burned red…what kind of comment was that. I finished repacking my bags and raced toward the elevator.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" I repeated to myself as I waited for the car, why couldn't I have made another trip. Oh well, I tried to rationalize, he's new, only gonna be here a while, doesn't know me, maybe this won't get out after all.

I opened the door to my apartment and looked at the clock, 9:37 already, where did the day go. I put on a little of my new make-up (just some lipstick and eyeshadow). I gave my hair a good shot of hair spray, let it dry and then I let out my tight ponytail. My hair look great as I shook it out. Then I started the fashion show trying on my purchases. Before I knew it it was almost midnight and my once empty walk in closet began to burst at the seams. Almost every thing fit, there were of course a few things that weren't quite right but I'd return these later. I slipped on a sexy chemise and settled into my bed for the night with a huge smile on my face, all things considered this was a pretty good day.

  

  

  

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