I wake up and look around the bright room in confusion. Then the fog in my brain slowly recedes as I remember where I am—The Loft!

The sun is shining in, unfettered, through the large studio windows—and straight into my eyes. I shade them with my hand and blink to clear out the little dots dancing in my vision—I guess I should have pulled the heavy drapes closed before going to bed.

Wide awake now, I snuggle back into the soft silky sheets and smile. After a minute of pure unabashed luxury, I stretch and then jump out of bed in excitement and do a little dance. Since it’s Wednesday, it is our day off and I was able to sleep in. I look at the clock and can’t believe I slept until eight, despite the sun streaming in and bathing the room in bright daylight!

I still can’t believe my luck! After all was said and done yesterday, I had gone back to the hotel last evening and checked out early. Of course, I had to pay for the night, but that’s OK. It’s like I paid a cheap hotel’s price to stay in a huge luxury suite! After dragging my suitcase behind me on the short walk back to the bakery, Mel gave me the key to the studio and quickly toured me around the space. Before she left, she showed me how to wash off my makeup from earlier using some wipes from her office downstairs and then she had me apply some moisturizer.

After that, she left me to finish getting acquainted with the studio and get some much-needed rest. As she was departing, she gave me a tight hug that reminded me so much of the ones Mom used to give me that it made me cry. I don’t know what has gotten into me—I never used to cry like this. I’m pretty sure that it can’t be the hormones—yet. It’s just suddenly all so emotional!

After spending about half an hour exploring the fully furnished and very feminine giant studio, I excitedly placed a call to Bob, and we talked about my good fortune and my upcoming meeting with my new psychiatrist on Friday. Subsequently, I quickly fell into a deep slumber in the large queen-sized bed that was already made up with the most luxurious pink satin sheets. It just sucked me into its opulent and feminine embrace—and I slept like a princess!

I sit back on the bed and reflect on how amazing it is how much better I feel after a good night’s sleep. I do feel a little nauseous. Frankie told me that would be normal for a while—at least until I get used to the hormones. I look around and wonder what I’m going to do with myself now that this glorious day has started. I quickly decide that the first thing I need to do is to find some coffee!

I start towards my suitcase to get some clothes and jump in surprise—letting out a little high-pitched scream—when I hear a noise downstairs in the bakery. I blush at my girly reaction and put my hand on my beating heart in hopes it will quiet it down.

Having slept in my T-shirt and undies, all I have to do is quickly throw on some jeans and my shoes. I grab my phone and quietly open the door to the bakery. I punch in 911 without connecting the call and sneak down the stairs. I hold my finger over the little green phone icon, ready to dial the number at a moment’s notice, and peek around the corner into the retail space.

I groan—then sigh and exclaim, “Mel! You scared the bejesus out of me!” I clear the number on my phone and put it in my back pocket as Mel giggles. She quips, “Well, I feel better that you checked! But what would you have done if I had been a burglar?

I laugh and retort, “I had my phone ready to call 911. Other than that, I have no idea! But what are you doing here? I mean I know it’s your store, but it’s your day off!” My heartrate is finally starting to come down to something less than ‘warp speed’.

She laughs in return and explains, “Kim will be here in a few minutes. We usually have breakfast on Wednesdays—the day-old stuff from Tuesdays won’t be any good for sale on Thursdays. Whatever is left after we have our fill and save for supper, I take over to a local food pantry for donation. Now, get the coffee going, girl! How did you sleep?”

I start preparing the coffee and grin ear-to-ear. I gush, “I slept like a princess! It’s heavenly up there!” I am just flipping the switch to start the coffee brewing when Kim comes rushing in, once again chock-full of energy—she seems to have enough to recharge the sun if it ever runs low, I’m sure!

Kim starts grabbing things and putting them on plates after giving both of us a hug and brightly wishing us a great morning. She sets the plate of goodies on a table and looks at me in concern as she inquires, “Ange, you look a little green. Are you OK?”

I shake my head and muse, “I’ll be OK—I think. My stomach is kind of queasy because of the hormones I got yesterday. I hope eating something will help. Frankie said I may be a little nauseous for a while.”

She giggles and says, “Sorry! I’ve never experienced morning sickness—and I’m in no hurry to, either! It sounds a lot like what you’re feeling from what I understand, though.”

I nod and take a small bite of dry bread and chew it well before swallowing it. After a few bites, I’m feeling better and even take a careful sip of the coffee that Mel pours us. We start talking about plans for the day and I quickly forget all about the nausea.

Kim looks at Mel impishly and asks, “So, are we still on for Ange’s girlification?” Mel nods and I look back and forth between them both in total confusion. I stammer, “Say what now?” Mel laughs and says, “So, first—you’re getting an advance on your check so that you can get some necessities. We’re going to find some things that you can use as a uniform for work—I will subsidize those, the same as I do for Kim. Then, you need an ‘Angie’ wardrobe—or, at least the start of one. And…you need a makeover—really bad!” She giggles.

My jaw drops lower with every point she raises. Kim giggles, too, and just agrees, “What she said! I was able to get you an appointment with Jaime, my hair stylist. We’ll have to wait until next Wednesday for the full spa treatment, but that hair and your nails need some serious help! Your appointment is at ten, so we better get cracking!”

Mel hands me a bag containing an unopened three-pack of women’s panties; new thin black leggings, a new pair of the socks like I had on yesterday, only in pink; and a pink girl’s T-shirt. She says, “Put these on while Kim and I clean up, here. Then we need to go!”

She makes shooing motions with her hands when I hesitate. I quickly go up the stairs to my apartment… Wait! Did I just call it my apartment? I’m still not used to that! Anyway, I go up and hesitantly change into the clothes that Mel had provided me. I do have to admit, it was a completely different feeling putting those panties on. They are actually thongs, so I get that wedgie that Frankie warned me about and have to wonder if they had somehow coordinated on that!

I squirm as I try to get used to the weird feeling of the strip of cloth crammed up my butt-crack. I do my best to ignore the urge to squeeze my butt and squirm some more as I pull on the tight leggings. They only come down about halfway down my calves and have a braided pattern of holes down the sides that is totally feminine. I put on the girly T-shirt and feel a little self-conscious at how tight it is. I know that’s how it’s supposed to be judging by what Mel and Kim have on, but it’s certainly not what I’m used to! I marvel at how everything is so much finer and thinner than my normal wardrobe—and way softer!

I slip on the socks and my shoes and walk timidly down the stairs back to the bakery. Kim sees me and smiles brightly. She gushes, “Look at you, girl! Now we’re talking! Just wait until we really get you girlied up!” They giggle as they notice the wiggle in my hip—courtesy of the thong.

I blush and say, “What is with this torture device?” Mel laughs and says with a wink, “You haven’t felt torture yet, girl! You still have bras to experience—and who knows if you decide to go with a corset. They’re coming back into vogue, you know!” I pale and Kim just giggles.

Mel laughs at my face and exclaims, “OK. Let’s go! It’s not that far to the salon, but this is Chicago!”

We walk into the salon after a short car ride—well, at least short in distance, if not in time—at ten minutes to ten and I am totally nervous, all of a sudden! It’s not the fact that we’re in a salon—back when I last got my hair cut, Mom took me to her salon. But I haven’t had it cut in over four years and it’s really long—and I never really worried about style. That’s all about to change.

Kim introduces me to Jaime and she asks me what I’m thinking in terms of cut and style. I look at Kim and Mel, then back at Jaime, and shrug. I muse, “I don’t really know, Jaime. I haven’t done anything to it in over four years. I don’t guess I really want to get it cut—but it’s getting somewhat wild and unmanageable.”

She nods and says, “OK. Let’s get you washed and then we’ll take a better look at what we have. What types of products do you use?” I blush and meekly say, “Whatever’s on sale at Walmart?” She nods as if that’s what she expected and asks, “Shampoo and conditioner?” I shake my head and mumble, “No, shampoo only—well, I mean sometimes it is combined…” She gives me a mock glare and says, “Well, young lady, you’re going to have to change that. You’ll leave here with proper products—and you will use them!”

She takes me to the sink and has me sit, then leans me back and settles my neck into the slot in the sink. Now, I may have gotten my hair cut in a salon before—but I never had my hair washed while doing it. Jaime spends a good amount of time getting the shampoo worked into my considerable volume of hair—then massages my scalp until I nearly ooze out of the chair. She rinses the shampoo out, then repeats the process. Finally, she puts in conditioner and spends several minutes working that in, too. After another rinsing, she wrings out my hair and wraps it all in a towel. She then has me move back to the main chair with the huge turban on my head weighing heavily on my neck.

After she removes the towel and combs through my hair to get all the tangles out, she inspects the ends and says, “OK, Angie. You have some split ends, but I won’t have to take off much—maybe a quarter inch. I can just shape it up and leave all of the length, if you want. How do you feel about bangs—do you want them?”

I look at myself in the mirror, then at Jaime and say, “Yes, please leave as much length as you can—and, no, I don’t want bangs. Just please give it some style and show me how to take care of it.” She nods and replies, “You got it!”

About twenty minutes later, after some snipping and cutting, I am back at the sink for another rinse and some leave-in conditioner. She walks me through how to use the products she is sending home with me and dries my freshly styled hair with a blow dryer and a large round brush.

When she is done, I have to admit it looks much better—and very feminine. At that point, Kim talks me into letting her shape my brows. Jaime explains she is basically just ‘cleaning them up’ and giving them a ‘little shape’. I sneeze when she yanks the first one, but otherwise handle the torture of having hairs yanked from my body by the roots fairly well—with just torrents of water pouring out of my eyes. You know—nothing major!

Finally, I’m moved to a reclining chair where another girl, Genie, gives me a mani-pedi. I’m utterly fascinated as she adds mile-long extensions to my fingernails and trims them back to a quarter inch beyond my fingertip, which she says is good compromise between glamour and utility. She files them square and buffs them smooth. She then adds two coats of bright pink polish over a base coat on my fingers and toes and cures them individually under a UV light. Finally, she adds a clear coat and cures that before declaring me done. If I was fascinated with her adding the extensions, I am even more so at the look and feel of my now glass-smooth and ultra-shiny pink nails.

When all is said and done, we have spent about two hours at the salon and it actually winds up costing less than I was fearing, but it’s still a chunk of change that I’m not used to spending. Mel pays and tells me that she’ll deduct it from my advance. I leave with my hair feeling luxuriously light and feathery, my eyebrows still stinging, and my fingernails feeling really long and sumptuously smooth. I love the overall feeling and look of everything, but still have a nagging feeling that things are moving really fast—even though I am certainly committed to being Angie, for now. Mel and Kim just gush about how good I look and I can’t help but blush!

From there, Mel drives us to a huge mall. We go to one of the anchor department stores and Kim drags me to the makeup department while Mel goes off on some mission. Kim pulls me to the makeup counter and grins at the preppy-looking girl behind it. She exclaims, “Chrissie! I want you to meet Angie. She needs a total makeover and the works. But she’s not rich, so go easy on her, OK?”

The girl says, “Hi, Kim,” then looks at me and adds, “Angie, is it? Hi! I’m Chrissie and as you may have inferred, I know Kimberly, here! So, can you tell me what kind of makeup you normally use?” I blanch and timidly stutter, “Umm, hi, Chrissie. I…ummm…don’t use any…?” Kim giggles and says, “Angie has been a wee bit of a tomboy. We’re bringing her into her girly-girl phase—make her shine, Hon!”

The next half-hour is all about Chrissie matching foundation colors and deciding on a ‘basic’ look. She then gives me a full makeover and explains the whole process. I retain none of it. I mean I know the words, ‘mascara’ and ‘eyeliner’ and some of the other terminology. But when she starts explaining how to contour my face and blend three shades of eyeshadow, I blank. Sure, it’s just basic art, but my face is a different kind of canvas than I’m used to. Kim tells me not to worry—that we will practice later and she promises she will coach me.

When Chrissie is done, she puts a mirror in front of me so that I can see myself. My jaw drops and I can’t believe my eyes! With my hair styled and my shaped eyebrows, the expert makeup job makes me look…hot! The makeup makes me look several years older and more like my actual age than I have looked since starting blockers. The fact that I look as hot as Kim sitting right next to me flusters me, though. I didn’t expect that!

Kim just grins ear-to-ear and says, “Bag it up, Chrissie! I take it you like the look, Ange?” I just nod and whisper, “Is that really me?” Chrissie enthuses, “It sure is! That’s a basic daytime look and this is middle-of-the-road makeup—not the cheap stuff you would get in bargain stores, but not top-of-the-line, either. It is a good compromise, though. Kim here can show you how to do other looks and you can always upgrade your makeup, later—once you make your first million!” She giggles and winks at me.

I stand there, still shocked, when Mel comes up and lets out a little scream, “Ange! You look awesome, girl!” I blush and smile timidly. The makeup feels funny on my face—and has a strange smell—but I can’t argue the look!

Mel hands me two bags and pays for the makeup. I hiccup at the cost, but Kim whispers in my ear that it will last a long time, since it’s not cheap bargain store makeup. I take the heavy bag of makeup and add it to the other two in my hand that Mel had handed me. I still have no idea what those are.

Mel enthuses, “OK, let’s go get some lunch. It’s on me!” Kim and I both argue with her—and quickly lose the battle. She takes us to one of the chain restaurants at the mall and we each order a lunch salad and iced tea. I peek into the bags that Mel had given me and find several black skirts and white blouses to use as uniforms. Mel says, “I told you that I would cover the uniform cost and I thought I would save us time by just going ahead and getting them. I went with skirts, so you can practice more in them. Based on what I loaned you yesterday, I am confident these will fit. Later, if you want, we can get you some pants, too.”

At that point, our waitress brings our drinks and I take a quick sip. I’m still shocked to see the little ‘lips’ that I leave on the glass from my lipstick. Kim notices me staring and winks, then reminds me to just gently pat my lips with the napkin so that I don’t smear it all over my face.

When we are done eating, we go to the ladies’ room to ‘freshen up’ our makeup. It’s my first experience in a ladies’ room and not at all what I expected. I mean, I don’t really know what I expected, but it’s basically just like the men’s variety, only it doesn’t have urinals (duh!) and it certainly smells better! There is more room at the sinks with better lighting and larger mirrors, which comes in handy as Mel tells me to freshen up my lipstick. After they both inspect my lipstick repair, we go back out into the mall.

Mel first guides us to a mainstream jewelry store that has a big sale going on. I give her an inquisitive look and she mischievously asks, “How about getting your ears pierced?” I gasp. I hadn’t even considered that. I mean, it makes perfect sense that, as Angie, I would want that, but it seems like another huge step!

I act like I’m scared of getting it done to buy myself some time to think, but the saleswoman, another Kim, is quick to assure me that it won’t hurt at all. With that ploy falling flat, I agree to go ahead and have some small diamond studs put into my earlobes. The piercing is free with the purchase of the studs—and they are real diamonds. With the ongoing sale, they are actually fairly inexpensive—barely more than the cubic zirconia variety.

She quickly marks my ears with little black dots, gets Kim and Mel’s approval on the placement since all I do is shrug, and delivers on her promise of it not hurting as she shoots them through my lobes with a little gun. I admit I am surprised! I mean, I wasn’t actually scared—but I did expect it to hurt. I look at myself in the mirror and marvel at the small yellow-gold and diamond studs glittering brightly in my ears. Mel pays and we once again go back out into the mall.

Mel looks at her watch and then at me before explaining, “We have about another hour-and-a-half. Not a lot of shopping time for us girls, but I need to get the old bakery items to the food pantry if we’re going to salvage any of them. As I see it, we still need to get you lingerie and some basic clothes, as well as shoes and a purse. Since you’re just going to start growing with the full effect of the hormones yet to come, there’s no need to go crazy on lingerie, like at VS or similar. I suggest you save that money for when you’re further along. Do you agree?” I shrug and laugh lightly as I reply, “I’ll certainly trust your judgement on that! What do I know about these things?”

She smiles and we go back to the main department store where she has a saleswoman measure me. I am terrified when she tells the woman that I need to know my bra size. I had no idea that she would just measure over my T-shirt—and doesn’t care at all that there really isn’t anything there.

After confirming my size, Mel and Kim help me pick out enough sets of matching bras and panties in different colors that I have enough to last a week. They tell me they are inexpensive—but not cheap—options that are still ‘pretty’. It seems my hidden lingerie is supposed to make me feel pretty, even though no one can see the lacy underlayer. Who knew? That’s not anything Mom had ever deemed me needing to know. I doubt Bob has any idea, either—although, who knows? Maybe Amy, his girlfriend, has enlightened him. If so, he never passed that knowledge on to me!

Kim insists that I put one of the bras on to try on clothes. She unabashedly follows me into the changing room in order to show me how to put it on. While we’re in there and I’m getting used to the constrictive feel of the bra—and how it pulls back on my shoulders—Mel hands some ‘tops’ and ‘bottoms’ over the door for me to try on. Without a thought, Kim stays in the changing room with me while I change into a pair of girl’s jeans and what she calls a ‘peasant top’.

After a quick look, and exhibiting no embarrassment, she makes me tuck my undeveloped ‘package’ back out of sight after explaining exactly how to do so. I don’t ask how she even knows how to do that, and, with a red face, zip up the jeans after following her instructions. She just clinically observes and helps. It’s not like she’s getting aroused by it or otherwise…looking—it’s more like she honestly wants to just help another girl look good. When I’m done, I’m as flat as she is and the jeans fit perfectly—if somewhat uncomfortably with things tucked away, in addition to the ‘butt floss’!

She pulls me out of the changing room by the hand for Mel to see and has me spin around and model for her. Aside from the above-mentioned slight discomfort, the clothes feel heavenly. Compared to my guy’s things, they are really soft and stretchy—they make my old things feel like thick sandpaper.

Both girls critique the outfit and send me back in to try a different combination. This dance goes on for about an hour and I wind up with a small pile of bottoms—jeans and leggings—and several tops, as well as two nightgowns.

Mel smiles and states, “OK, now we need to pick out some shoes and a general-purpose purse and wallet. I think you need some decent waitressing shoes, some heels to practice in, and something comfortable to replace your men’s running shoes. We go to a chain shoe store in the mall after Mel pays for the clothes and she shows me some rubber-soled, slip-resistant, semi-dressy black shoes, like she and Kim have, that I can wear in the bakery. On top of that, they help me pick out a pair of black three-inch stiletto pumps to practice in—not that I knew I needed to practice! Finally, Kim picks out a pair of wildly colored, and clearly girly, running shoes—which I wind up wearing out of the store.

We stop at a small leather goods store and they help me pick out ‘the most adorable’ little purse and a feminine wallet that will fit in it. Then we make our way back to the original department store to exit out to the parking lot. On the way out, Kim steers us through the perfume department and has me smell several fragrances. She and Mel guide me to one very nice floral scent, ‘Jasmine Meadows’, and Kim buys me a small bottle as a welcome gift, then giggles as she mists me with the tester before we leave.

After she pays, we finally exit the store into the parking lot and go back to the car. I sit in the back seat, exhausted but sweet smelling, as Mel drives us back to the bakery. When we arrive, I quickly grab my bags from the trunk and run them up to the Loft where I throw them on my bed before going back down to help load the old baked goods in the now empty trunk. Mel insists that Kim and I keep some things for supper, and we put those on a table in the store for putting away.

After Mel takes off with the baked goods, Kim comes up to the Loft with me and we put our food in the refrigerator. After that, she helps me put my dirty things in the washer and my new purchases in the closet and dresser. I repack the rest of my ‘guy’ things in my suitcase and leave it open on the bed to put the laundered items in after they are dried.

With the clothes taken care of, Kim has me remove my makeup and I get my first makeup lesson. There is a well-lit vanity in the fully furnished studio and she first has me organize the bottles and tubes where I can find them—explaining again what each one is as I put it away.

After three times of carefully removing it and putting it back on with Kim guiding me along the way, I do nearly as well as Chrissie had. Kim giggles and says, “Well, being an artist certainly does help even when painting your own face! Now, I just need to do one final test and check your lipstick…”

She gently takes my face between both hands and pulls it towards her—and gives me a tender kiss full on the lips as I melt into a surprised puddle of goo and ooze out of my chair!