Hawaiian Retreat: 1

 

Donnie is taken aback when his friend Mitch asks him to accompany him to Hawaii
and act as his girlfriend. Donnie, of course, says 'no,' but Mitch makes him an
offer he can't refuse.

I kind of rushed right into this new series. I truly hope that you like this!

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Author's Note: Please let me know what you think of this story? I really do try to be creative and come up with new ideas all the time. ~Clara.
 
This version of Hawaiian Retreat: 1 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 1
 

"You are out of your freaking mind, Mitch!" I couldn't believe that he was serious about this.

"Donnie, you've pulled it off before! You can do it. I really need your help!"

"Ask someone else, Mitch! Ask my sister, Marie. We look enough alike. That will work."

"Well, maybe she'd look like you, but since you were so sociable at the Halloween party, and became friends with almost every female partner, secretary or spouse, you've become the subject of conversation ever since. 'When are you and Dawn coming for drinks? When are you and Dawn going to move in together? When are you going to propose to Dawn?' Christ, Donnie, my office manager took a picture of the two of us together and put it in a frame for me. It sits on a shelf in my office and everyone who comes in sees it. As far as everyone at the firm is concerned, you and I are a couple."

"Well, that's not exactly my fault, is it? I did you a favor then, but that's it. Tell them we broke up. Tell her I died in a freak skiing accident. I don't care."

Mitch put down his beer and stood, all six foot two of him, and he paced around the small living room of my small house. "Look, Donnie... I'm sorry, but I really need your help. The firm really prefers that associates be settled and married before they are considered for partnerships. I... you know how I am, Don... I've never had the guts to ask a girl out. I really screwed up, here. You were so great at Halloween that I just kept up the masquerade and I told people stories about how we were dating and... shit, Donnie... please. Please. Please. I need your help."

Let me back up - I was once a successful person. I was living with my high school sweetheart in a little house we'd bought together. I was making a decent living as a graphic artist and Nancy, my high school sweetheart, was an events manager at the biggest hotel in town. We were happy, I thought. Mitch had gone to school with Nancy and me and he was always around, too. He saw the clouds on the horizon long before I did.

See, I'd gained a lot of weight since high school and Nancy was getting more into health and fitness as our thirtieth birthdays approached. It was becoming an issue, shall we say.

Then, last April, just as Nancy was staring to lose interest in sex, the company I worked for was bought by a huge advertising firm and I became,
as the Brits say, redundant. I got a reasonable separation package, but that was the last straw for Nancy. One day I went to an interview and when I got home, she was all moved out.

Anyway, by October, I was still unemployed, although, I'd managed to lose a lot of weight through a very strict diet - I kind of ignored the exercise part for a while, which left me with some odd flabbiness on my chest and hips.

So, as Halloween approached, my twin sister, Marie, had an idea for a fun costume. We went to a friend's party as 'The Mystery Crew' from Scooby Doo with Mitch dressed as Fred, Marie's wife, Hilda, who is very tall and lanky, as Shaggy, Marie as Daphne and a big, stuffed, plush Scooby Doo, which, of course left me as Velma.

Hey, it was just a fun for one night and besides, I'd gone out as a girl on Halloween before. See, Marie and I have two older sisters as well, so
there were always plenty of girls costumes around and my mother, God rest her soul, was a single mother who never had an extra nickel to spare. I’m no dwarf or anything, I mean I’m just shy of five foot seven, which makes me a little shorter than all three of my sisters, so the costumes always fit.

The disconcerting part of the costume was how well I filled it out. The push-up bra and a couple of gel inserts gave me some very convincing breasts and the high waisted girdle that Marie provided gave me a twenty-six inch waist. Once I was shaved and in my lingerie, the whole thing came together with just a wig and some very clever makeup provided by Hilda, who is a hair and makeup artist for the burgeoning film industry here in New England.

Just some harmless fun, right?

Yeah, well, it was until a couple of partners from Mitch’s law firm showed up and my sister, who, like me, had had a few drinks, introduced me as Mitch’s girlfriend. Yeah, big joke, right? Well, I thought so and I played the part to the hilt. So well, in fact, that the two partners insisted that I attend the firm’s Halloween party the next night. I was just tipsy enough to say I’d see them there. Of course, that was the furthest thing from my mind, but I said it anyway.

The next morning, in the cold, sober light of day, I flat out refused to do it, of course, but Mitch was really upset.

‘I didn’t tell you to accept the invitation, Donnie,’ he said, more worried than I’d ever seen him. ‘You promised them, Donnie. You promised to be there. If you don’t go, I’ll look like a schmuck and I can’t afford that. This is my career, Donnie! This could set my career track back by years. You created this problem, come on!’

Marie, of course, thought the whole thing was hilarious and sided with Mitch.

Long story short, I was Velma once again that night. Mitch introduced me as his girlfriend ‘Dawn’ and, once I got a few drinks into me and I loosened up a bit, I really got into it, again. I was all smiles and chat and I really enjoyed the fact that I was putting one over on all these high powered lawyers and their trophy wives. Truth be told, I had a blast, but to be honest, a lot of the details about that night are still pretty fuzzy. I can handle a beer or two, no problem, but they were putting champagne flute after champagne flute into my hand all evening long. Apparently, I remained charming and funny all evening though and, come the next Monday morning, Mitch’s girlfriend Dawn was the talk of the office – and remained such, I guess.

Ok, back to that Thursday night in February in my living room.

"Look, Donnie, it’s six days in Hawaii in the middle of winter for a company retreat. Sunshine, warm weather, beautiful beaches and it wouldn’t cost you a cent!"

"No."

"I’ll give you my credit card. You can buy all the clothes and anything else you’ll need."

"No."

"I’ll pay for you to take a helicopter tour."

"No."

"I’ll pay your mortgage."

That brought me to a dead stop. I could barely afford the house when Nancy was living with me. Now... I was in arrears a few months. "My mortgage?"

Mitch nodded. "How far behind are you?"

"Two months right now, but... it’ll be three on the first of March."

"What’s your monthly payment?"

He was serious!? "Eleven hundred and eight five dollars."

"So, four thousand would get you ahead of the bank for a while?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"I’ll give you eleven thousand, eight hundred and fifty to do this."

"What?"

Mitch shrugged, "That’s ten months of mortgage payments. That will get you ahead of the bank and give you some time to find a new job. Is it a deal?"

I sat forward on my sofa and thought about it. Geez, ten months. I could really use the money and the time. "Can I think about it?"

Mitch nodded and grabbed his jacket and said, "Ok. Let me know by noon tomorrow, though, ok? ‘Cause if you don’t do it, I need to figure out something else. We leave next Wednesday. I know that’s short notice. I was trying to come up with another idea, but everyone kept telling me how excited they were to get to know Dawn. I didn’t know what else to do." He stood awkwardly by the door before leaving and I couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally he said, "I really am sorry to put you in this position, Don, but... talk to you tomorrow."

I didn’t sleep a lot that night. I mean, who wouldn’t want to take a trip to Hawaii in the middle of a New England winter, but did I want to do it this way? I needed to sound out the pros and cons of this whole situation, so at seven thirty that morning I called my closest friend other than Mitch.

The phone rang a couple of times before Marie picked up. "Donnie!? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, Marie. I just need to talk to you."

"Geez um crow, Donnie, what time is it?"

"Seven thirty. Were you asleep?"

"Of course I was asleep, Donnie. I worked second shift at the hospital last night. I’ve only been asleep four hours. This had better be important."

I explained the situation to which Marie replied, "So, do you want to do it?" She just took it all in stride.

"I don’t know, Rie. I mean, yeah, I want the money, but I don’t think I could pull it off."

"Why not, you did great at Halloween. From what I understand, you were the hit of the party!"

I scoffed at that. "Because everyone was drunk, Rie. Including me, by the way."

"Donnie, these retreats are nonstop drinking. You’ll be with the wives and girlfriends. You’ll start the day with bloody Mary’s and mimosas. By lunch, it’ll be champagne cocktails and drinks in pineapple rinds. By dinner it’ll be wine and scorpion bowls."

"So... what are you saying?"

"I’m saying that Mitch’s little scheme may buy you eight or ten months to find a new job and as long as it’s not too demeaning to your male ego, you could have a really fun week."

"As a girl."

"As a trophy girlfriend, Donnie. All expenses paid, a week of shopping and salon visits before you go, massages and facials in the spa at the resort, dinner and dancing in beautiful clothes every night... What more could a girl ask for?"

I was quiet for a moment when Marie asked me a question that gave me pause.

"Is Mitch gay?"

I stuttered when I answered. "Mitch? No. He’s straight. Why would you ask that?"

"Well," Marie considered that for a moment, "he’s, what, six two or three, he works out all the time, that blonde hair of his is to die for and he’s thirty one years old and never gone on a date. He bought a house right across the street from his parents, too. Sounds a bit gay to me."

I laughed, "Yeah, well, you’re a lesbian and neither you nor Hilda has ever played softball worn, or your hair like a marine. Of all the people to be spouting off stereotypes, I never figured it would be you."

Then, without a moment of hesitation she said, "Are you?"

I was so surprised by the question that could barely respond. I sputtered for at least ten seconds before words came out.
"I...wh...me...how... why would you... What are you talking about!? I was with Nancy since eighth grade!"

"And now you’re considering going half way around the world as another man’s date. I’m just asking. Don’t be offended. I’m gay and I’m very happy about it."

"And I’m very happy for you," I said sincerely. I guess she didn’t really mean anything by the question, but no one’s ever asked me that before.

"Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m awake, now, so I’m coming over. Make me a nice omelet for breakfast, please. We’ll talk this through, you’ll let me take a look at what we have to work with – that means you’ll get naked so I can see how you look – then I want to hear from Mitch that he’s actually going to pay for everything he’s offering, especially your mortgage payments. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes."

When she arrived, we sat at the table and I nibbled my cheese omelet while Marie devoured her western omelet, and we looked at Mitch’s proposition from every angle. Marie made a list of what Mitch and I had to gain, collectively and individually, and what we each had to lose.

There was a lot we had to gain, but the ‘what we have to lose’ column was much scarier.

If I didn’t do it, Mitch could lose his job and I could lose my house.

If I did it, but didn’t do it well, then we’d end up with the same possibilities.

"So," Marie put down her pen, "you should do it and you should go all the way and be the prettiest, most personable little trophy girlfriend at the resort."

I held my head in my hands and considered what I might be taking on. "Rie, if I decide to do this, I’m going to need you and Hilda to support me. I can’t do it alone."

Marie laughed a huge burst of laughter. "Support you? Donnie, if you do this, you can’t do it halfway. You only have five days to get everything you need and learn how to pass as a woman. You don’t need my support, little sister, you need me to teach you how to walk, how to talk, how to do your makeup, how to eat, how to drink, how to go to the ladies room! Donnie, I’m going to be the puppet master and you’re going to be my Barbie doll. It’s all or nothing, stud. What do you say?"

I took a deep breath and thought about the whole thing. It was stupid, it was risky and it was potentially embarrassing, but – "Ok. I’ll do it."

"Really? Awesome!" Suddenly Marie was thrilled! "Let’s call Mitch and I’ll confirm everything with him, first. If he agrees to all of it, we’ll get started!"

We called and had a long chat on speaker phone. Mitch confirmed everything and said that he’d drop off a credit card that evening.

As the call was winding down, I said, "I think it would be best if you stayed away for a week or so, till I’m comfortable with this."

"Sure, sure," Mitch agreed, but Marie had different plans.

"No, no, no! Tomorrow night, you and Donnie are double dating with Hilda and me. Someplace nice."

"Tomorrow!?" I couldn’t believe she wanted to do something so quickly.

"Yes, tomorrow! If you don’t start now, you’ll never learn. Every second counts. You make your debut tomorrow night – end of story. And I think that the two of you should be going out together as much as possible between then and next Wednesday. That way you can work on being comfortable as a couple."

Alright, so that all made me pretty freaking nervous, but at least a decision had been made.

"Here," Marie said, pushing my phone towards me. "You make arrangements with your new boyfriend while I make a call on my phone. I’ll be right back."

I took the phone off of speaker and held it to my ear. "Hi, Mitch. Let me know what restaurant you get reservations for and what time you want to meet there, ok?"

"Yeah... ok. Why don’t we say we’ll go to Anthony’s for dinner and I think I should pick you up, ok? And... hey... Donnie... thanks, pal. I mean it. I know this is a big ask, but... you’re the best. Really."

Mitch wasn’t usually the most eloquent person at a dinner party, but that last sentence was pretty incoherent, even for him.

I didn’t know quite what to say at that moment, so I asked, "Are you sure you can afford this, Mitch. I mean, you’re offering me more than ten thousand dollars in mortgage payments as well as letting my sister loose with your credit card. That’s bound to run you more than another couple of grand. Maybe it would be better to just tell them the truth."

I heard Mitch sigh. "Don, I make around half a million dollars every year, give or take a few tens of thousands of dollars. My house is paid for, my car is a lease and I don’t travel unless I have to do it for work. I’ve been offering you help on your mortgage for months, but you wouldn’t take it. What do you owe on it? One fifty, two hundred thousand? If you want that much, it’s yours. But my job is everything to me. This is the only firm in the area that works on the kinds of cases I care about and I don’t want to lose it or be embarrassed by showing up alone after telling everyone that I was still dating that great girl named Dawn that everyone met at the Halloween party. I promise that after this retreat, I’ll tell them we broke up or something."

I smirked. "Ok, but make the break up your fault. I’m way too nice to be the villain in your fictional world."

He chuckled on the other end of the call. "Deal. Thanks, dude. I love you."

I laughed at the word ‘dude.’ He’d have to get used to something else to call me. "Love you too, pal."

Now, that ‘I love you’ stuff might seem a little sissy-ish out of context, but we’d been saying it to each other for like fifteen years. It started as a joke. Marie, Mitch and I used to always go to school together and Marie used to always kiss my cheek and say, ‘I love you,’ before we’d separate to go to our own classes. It was something that my mom always insisted on. Rie was always faithful about saying it, but it embarrassed me to have her say it to me, or to have to respond with the required ‘love you, too.’ It became such a big deal that Mitch picked up on Marie’s theme and started always saying, ‘I love you,’ whenever we’d go our separate ways. He though it was hilarious and Mitch is one of those guys who thinks that if something is funny the first time, then it’s going to be funny the ten billionth time, too. Then, it just sort of became a thing. More often than not, that’s how Mitch said goodbye. The previous night was actually kind of unusual when he left without saying it.

I was putting our breakfast dishes into the washer when Marie came back in and was grabbing her coat and purse in a big rush. "Come on. We have to get going right now."

I shook my head in confusion. "Where are we going?"

I called my hairdresser, Renee, and told her what you’re doing. She says that she doesn’t have any appointments until four thirty today, so if I can get you to the salon now, she can give you the works right now."

"The works?" I asked. That was an ominous phrase.

"Yeah," she wrapped a scarf around her neck. "The works. Waxing, eyebrows, mani/pedi, extensions... the works. Come on, let’s go."

I was confused, though. "I thought you were going to take my measurements."

"I will, Donnie. You’ll be naked there as well."

I nearly passed out at that statement.

"What?"

"Donnie, come on! We have to go!"

So, off I went, like a lamb to slaughter.

I didn’t know Renee, Marie’s hair dresser, which helped a bit, but the whole experience was something very alien to me. The smells, the colors, everything was entirely beyond my experience. From the moment we entered, I was completely confused and flustered by everything happening around me.

Renee said hello and pushed me right into the waxing area, a curtained off area in the back. The chairs in the salon were filled with women, mostly older women, probably due to the time of day, who didn’t really pay attention to me or Marie as Renee pushed us through the salon.

"So, are we waxing just the arms and legs or are we doing a bikini wax, too?" Renee was very businesslike, but the problem was that I didn’t understand the business. Before I could answer, Marie took charge.

"Let’s do everything just to be sure. He’s going to Hawaii as a trophy girlfriend, so being hairless will make it easier to wear high end clothes."

Renee nodded and said, "Sounds good. Why don’t you strip down and we’ll get started. His eyebrows are pretty bushy, too. Waxing will probably be best there, too."

Instinctively, I touched my brows as if you protect them, but Marie pushed my hands aside and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt I was wearing.

I started helping her and I pulled the shirt off revealing my rather unorthodox undershirt.

"What on earth is that?" Marie asked.

I just sighed. "It a compression shirt, ok. You know how flabby my chest is. This helps."

"Huh," Marie giggled. "I’m the lesbian, but my brother is the one binding his boobs down. Take it off for me."

As I pulled the tight fitting, spandex garment off, Marie undid my belt and dropped my jeans to the floor, leaving me in my plaid boxers.

"Holy shit," Marie muttered as I struggled to get the compression shirt past my head.

"What?" I asked.

"Donnie... have you seen a doctor about your boobs?"

I looked down and looked at my flabby chest. "Yeah. She told me to do some light barbell exercises to tighten up my back and shoulder muscles and that would, eventually, tighten up my pecs."

Renee stepped forward and touched my right breast. "These are pretty impressive for a guy, Don. I mean, just guessing, I think you might be a ‘B’ cup already."

I laughed because I was sure that they were teasing me. "Yeah, sure. The exercise have been helping, though. They were bigger and flabbier before."

"Yeah, they’re perky, now," Marie teased – well, I thought she was teasing. It turned out, she wasn’t. "Let me just take a few measurements so I can run out and grab you a few things. We’ll do some real shopping tomorrow once we have Mitch’s card, but you can’t get all girly here and then leave in jeans and a flannel shirt."

As Marie took the measurements, Renee asked Marie, certainly not me, "Are we doing extensions, then? A wig would be pretty hot and cumbersome in Hawaii."

"Yes," Katie asked as she entered my measurements into her phone. "How long can you make it with extensions?"

Renee ran her hands through my shaggy, but certainly not long, hair and sighed. "As long as you want up to about twenty six inches. That would bring his hair down to his waist, but if you want some volume, it’s going to take an awful lot of extension pieces."

"Do you you have enough to do it?" Marie was done with her measurements, but now seemed overly interested in my chest fat.

"Sure, but it’ll cost a lot and take a few hours to get it all woven in." Renee was looking at my hair without really looking at me in any way and she spoke as if I wasn’t even there.

Marie fiddled with her phone for a moment and brought up a picture of the actress Hailey Steinfeld who’s hair hung full and thickly down her back, all the way to her perfect rear end. "Something like this would look great on him."

Renee giggled at the picture. "I can do that, but your looking at a pretty big price tag for real human hair."

"Perfect!" Marie smiled. "Like I told you on the phone, though, I’ll have to come by and pay for all of this tomorrow when I have Donnie’s boyfriend’s credit card."

"No problem," Renee said, but I couldn’t just let that remark pass.

"Mitch is not my boyfriend..."

"Hush," my twin sister said without even looking at me. "Can you take care of him while I run out and do some shopping?"

"Of course," Renee smiled. "Take off your boxers and jump up on the table, Donnie. You’re not all that hairy. This shouldn’t hurt all that much."

Well, I dropped my boxers and laid down on the table. Renee covered my bottom half with a sheet and went to work, starting with my eyebrows. It was at that moment that I realized what a liar Renee actually was because it hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt like hell and it was all I could do to keep from shouting out in pain over the torture I was being put through!

After the eyebrows, the waxing of the sparse hair on my torso was a welcome relief. Even doing my arms wasn’t all that bad. My feet were a little sensitive, but by the time she’d gotten to the tearing out of hundreds of hairs and their follicles on my legs, I was pretty much numb to it all. That is until she got to... my bikini area.

"This is going to hurt a bit," Renee said, completely unreassured as I felt the warm wax and material being applied to my lower abdomen. "Try not to shout, though, please."

Well, that didn’t calm me much.

Then, before I could really think about it, she pulled the congealed wax covered material free of my skin taking a large strip of my pubic hair with it. My eyes shot wide open and my breath caught in my throat. Renee saw that. My eyes were watery and she smiled sympathetically. "It only hurts this badly the first time, Donnie. If you maintain it, waxing is actually a pretty pleasurable experience. You’ll see."

I shook my head. "Never again," I gasped.

"We’ll see," Renee smiled as she spread the warm wax on another part of my pubic hair. "Take a deep breath, now. We’re almost done."

A few dozen terrible pulls later and she said, "That’s almost all of it, I don’t think I’ll need to do a male Brazilian for you."

As she busied herself I asked, "What’s a male Brazilian?"

Renee looked at my frightened, limp penis and smiled. "Trust me, you’ll be happier if you never find out." She grabbed an electric trimmer and said, "Just let me trim this up a tiny bit." She turned it on and used the machine on my lower belly, just above my penis. It tickled a bit, but at least it didn’t hurt, so I relaxed for the few moments that it took.

When she put the trimmer down, she put on some rubber gloves and turned to face me, holding a large bottle of a pale pink, viscous substance.

"Oh, God," I whimpered, weakly, "now what?"

Renee smiled. "Relax. It’s skin cream. It’ll sooth your skin. You’ll like it."

And boy, did I ever like it! It felt like the fire on my skin was being put out. It was wonderful. It was also very fragrant, which is an odd thing for a guy. I mean, in the thirty one years I’d been on the earth, if I smelled my own scent, that was usually a really bad thing. Now, all of a sudden, I was being scented. I didn’t mention this to Renee because I knew that her response would be along the lines of ‘get used to it.’

"Feel better?" Renee asked as she finished.

"Much," I smiled as I was handed a dark blue nylon robe. As I put it on, though, I glanced down at denuded body and that’s when I noticed that there was still a patch of hair remaining, just above my penis.

I pointed this out to Renee, who handed me a hand mirror. "Take a look," she grinned.

I held the mirror down by my groin and saw a perfectly shaped little heart constructed from my shortened pubic hair. "Seriously?" I shook my head.

"It’s something cute and just a little naughty. Rich girls like that."

"I’m not a rich girl," I laughed.

"Not now, honey, but from what Marie was saying, you’re about to be. At least for a while."

I thought that was funny and I laughed a little, but Renee didn’t. "A lot of my clients are rich girls, Don. They’re the pretty sorority girls in colleges and they network their way into country clubs and social circles that help them snare handsome, rich husbands. They’re smart and they’re pretty and they are focused on nabbing the right man. All of them like to have a little, secret, slutty something to make their boyfriends crazy in the bedroom. Those little hearts are very popular. They stay hidden in their panties and their boyfriends know that they’re there. It drives them nuts."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Trust me, no one’s going to see this but you and me."

Renee stood tall and put her hand on my shoulder. "You say that now, Donnie, but you’re entering some pretty dangerous territory. I promise you, once I’m done with you, whoever this guy is, he’s going to be attracted to you, and these girls you’ll be spending time with... you’re thinking about them as flirty little airheads. They’re not. They’re sharks. They’re well educated, fearless, powerful beautiful sharks who will eat you alive and smile while they’re doing it. I can make you look perfect, but you need to be aware of what you’re getting into. That little heart is like a badge that you’re part of their club. Even if no one sees it, just knowing it’s there will help you fit in."

I took all that in and then nodded. "Ok, then. Thank you."

She winked at me, "You’re welcome, and when this is all over, I guarantee you that you’re going to come back in here and tell me how much your boyfriend loved that little heart."

"He’s my friend, Renee," I blushed and let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a giggle, "not my boyfriend and he’s never going to see that... badge."

"Ok," she placed a hand on my back and guided me toward the curtain that led to the salon, "let’s see if we can make you really pretty."

I felt very exposed as I walked through the salon in just the thin robe, but when I think about it, none of the other women paid much attention to me. I guess I was just feeling out of place. I did notice that the clock said it was twelve thirty already. That meant that I’d been in the waxing room for several hours. I was getting hungry and there was no sign of my sister. I mentioned that I hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, so Renee gave me a package of peanut butter crackers and a bottle of water as she prepared things. "I’ll give you a ten minute break."

I thanked her and began devouring the eight crackers in the pack. I was on the third cracker-sandwich when Marie suddenly appeared beside me. I was raising the cracker when Marie gently placed her hand on my moving arm. "You’re eating like an man, Donnie. Nibbles and sips. That’s how you need to eat. "

I nodded and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nope.

Marie glanced at my legs and smiled. "Sexy! How does it feel?"

"A little chilly, to be honest," I chuckled.

"You’ll get used to it. I bet that you’ll want to stay clean and hairless even after this is over. Everything just feels nicer."

"Well..." I glanced around and no one was near us. " I’m not exactly hairless." I looked at my lap.

"Oh, no. She didn’t leave your bush, did she?"

I shook my head.

A smile drew itself across my sister’s face. "A landing strip?"

I shook my head again.

"Oh, my God, did she give you a little valentine?"

I blushed and nodded.

"Oh, yes! You have to show me!"

"Not now!" I held the hand that was attempting to pull my robe open.

Marie could not contain her excitement. "That’s so cool!"

"Ok," Renee interrupted, "if you really want to go for the twenty six inch extensions, and you want to do it today, then I only have a couple of choices. I don’t have enough medium brown like his natural hair, but I have a darker brown that’s very pretty, and I have this pretty, honey blonde. What do you think?"

She held a strand of the brown on the left side of my face and the blonde on my right and Marie scrutinized both.

"Oh, I like the blonde, don’t you?" My sister announced.

Thinking that she was asking me, I was about to offer an opinion which would have been that I’d have preferred the brown, but The question was actually directed at Renee, and she agreed with Marie.

Renee glanced at the clock and decided that she needed to get someone to help her if she was going to complete my transformation before her appointment. So, another girl was called over and instructed to wash and dye my hair the color of the honey blonde extensions while Renee prepared the human-hair-prosthetics.

My scalp was massaged and scrubbed and conditioned and colored and wrapped in plastic to setup, then my feet were submerged in a warm fluid to soak while a third girl began working on my fingernails. My cuticles were pushed and buffed and polished and then a smoothed and then a decision was made, by my sister, of course, that I should have the best artificial nails available applied and filed to approximately a half an inch longer than my fingers, nothing too crippling, and that they should be a dark, mature, neutral color. Obviously – obvious to everyone except me, of course – I would need to have them recolored before going to Hawaii.

Truth be told, I loved the feel of having my nails done. I was lighted headed as the girl worked my fingernails, but when she did my toenails, I was in heaven. If you’ve never had a pedicure, I highly recommend it! It was glorious!

When my hair was colored and Renee was confident that it matched the extensions, both hairdressers set about the arduous task creating the weavings required for attaching the extensions.

"We’re working together to get you through this, Donnie. This many extensions could take four hours or more and we just don’t have that kind of time. If we work together, maybe we’ll get you out of here in a couple of hours."

The feeling of having them both work on my hair was remarkably relaxing. It was as if they were massaging my head.

"No worries," I said. "It feels great."

I heard Rene snicker. "Close your eyes. There’s nothing you can do until we’re done. A lot of people just fall asleep and let us work. You can, too if you want."

"No, I don’t think so," I laughed. "I don’t think I can trust you all enough to not keep an eye on you."

Everyone was laughing at my joke and then, I was out like a light and I slept through the entirety of the rest of the procedure.

"Hey, Donnie," I could hear Marie speaking quietly, encouragingly. "Time to wake up. We have to get you dressed and get going. Come on."

I blinked myself awake and looked around me, a little confused. I snickered at myself. "I really fell asleep?" I shook my head twice, but stopped immediately because the copious amount of hair that now hung from my head swung into my view.

"Whoa..." I mumbled, touching it and marveling at how real and simultaneously unreal it all felt.

I looked to my left and saw Marie, smiling. I panned to the right and saw the hairdresser who had been helping Renee, then a blonde woman I’d not seen before, then Renee and everyone was smiling at me, except the blonde woman, who seemed a bit confused.

Then it dawned on my. There was a mirror right in front of me. The blonde woman wasn’t a woman at all. She was me. Or, my reflection at least. "Holy cow." I didn’t know what else to say.

"And that’s with just a little makeup," Renee smiled at my reaction.

"Hilda’s going to come up with some makeup plans for you after she sees your new coloring," Marie touched my hair and smiled. "Jesus, Donnie, you’re already adorable. This is actually going to work, you know. If you do the homework, you’ll be able to pull this off."

"I think you might be right," I muttered. I touched the hair near my face, pulling it behind my ears to get it out of the way.

"No, no, no," Marie scolded. "Your hair is beautiful and it’s going to be your best asset. NEVER tuck it behind your ears."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" I pulled my hair back, again. "How did I sleep through having my ears pierced?" When I fell asleep, my ears had no piercings. Now, each one had a small stone and a larger pearl in the ear lobes and another small stone just at the top of the ears.

Renee laughed. "It’s pretty painless. You didn’t even flinch."

I looked at the little pearls in my ears. There’s something about pearls that I have always loved on a woman. Necklaces, earrings and rings, it doesn’t matter. I love the look of them. Seeing them on me would have been disconcerting, I suppose, if I were actually able to process the fact that the woman with the glistening, blonde hair in the mirror was actually me, but I had not yet reached that level of intellect.

"So?" Marie looked into the mirror to see the look on my face. "What do you think? You’re quite the babe, aren’t you?"

Have you ever been the position of having something completely inappropriate happen to you and you can’t control it? Like being at a funeral and having to suddenly laugh? Or accidentally dropping an ‘F bomb’ in a business meeting? Well, that’s how I felt, all of a sudden. I didn’t want to do it and I wasn’t thinking about anything that should make me do it, but... maybe it was the feminine environment, or the number of beautiful women around me, or maybe it was the silky nylon robe that I was wearing, or maybe the fact that one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen was staring back at me from the mirror and she was checking me out in exactly the same way that I was checking her out... I don’t know why, but suddenly, parts of me were starting to stiffen up in a very unladylike way.

"I... I guess it’s a good start..." I sputtered, not really sure what I should say.

The women around me thought that was funny. "A very good start," Marie laughed. "Come on. We need to get you out back and get you dressed. We have to get going, pretty soon. We’re meeting Hilda for dinner, then I have to get to work."

Marie grabbed a couple of bags and her coat, while Renee pushed a rolling table she’d been using to the side and her assistant walked away and all the while, I just sat there growing harder and feeling more uncomfortable by the second.

Marie was moving towards the waxing area with her arms filled. She stopped and looked at me. "Coming?" She asked, impatiently.

I glanced around. "Quite possibly and maybe very soon," I said, flippantly.

Marie screwed up her face. "What are you talking about? Come on."

"I can’t." I used my eyes to indicate the situation.

Marie looked from my face to my groin several times before a smile played on her lips. "You’ve got to be kidding."

I shook my head.

She leaned forward. "First off, knees together, Princess. Someone might see your friend if your not careful."

I did my best, but it wasn’t easy.

"Now, get yourself under control." She hissed, sounding stern, but finding it amusing, none the less.

I took deep breaths, but I was still over stimulated. "It’s not working."

"Ok, think about baseball or something. I hear that helps."

"It’s doesn’t," I shook my head. "Just need a few minutes without thinking OR TALKING about it and I’ll be able to stand up."

"Ok." Marie leaned against the counter and waited about ten seconds before saying, "I’m cramping a lot today. My flow has been very heavy this month and I’m going through tampons like water. I ruined three pairs of panties just yesterday and I feel so bloated and moody. Just last night..."

"Alright!" I held up both hands to stop her. "You’ve done it. In fact, I may never get hard again."

When we got to the waxing area, Marie opened the bags and dug through them. The first items that she pulled out were a very pretty bra and panty set. Both were silky and lace-covered. She held them out to me.

"They’re mine?" I asked with my eyes wide.

"Yes. Put them on. We’re running late."

"Rie, when I dressed for Halloween, I wore a really plain bra and my own tighty-whities. I kind of thought that..."

"Well, you thought wrong and you agreed to do what I told you to do. Now, put them on."

"Alright, alright!" I turned and undid the belt of the robe I wore and I pulled the panties up my newly smooth legs. Truth be told, it felt amazing! The soft, smooth material felt cool and elegant against my skin.

"And tuck that thing between your legs, too," she scolded. "I bought you the last pair of slacks you’ll be wearing for a while, so we need to be sure that it looks right."

When I got the panties up, I stood straight and was nearly blinded by the amount of hair that fell onto my face. I used both hands to push it back, but I was corrected by Marie. "I asked Renee to do your hair with no part, so it just flows back from your face. Just use one hand, put your thumb on one side of your forehead and your pinkie on the other, then run your hand towards the back of your head and it will fall into place. You may need to lean back a little and shake your head gently to let it all fall free."

I did as I was told and it worked fine. So, I took off the robe and moved on to the bra. Before I put it on, though, Marie stopped me and inspected my chest. Now, my sisters are all smart and successful, but Marie, who is an X-ray technician, tends to think of herself as a doctor. She fingered the protruding fatty areas of my chest and made some ‘hmm’ noises. "When you talked to your doctor, did she suggest having your breasts removed surgically?"

I sighed. "No, Rie, she didn’t, and do you know why? Because they are not breasts, they are just problem fatty areas that I need to work on, AND, DOCTOR MARIE, because she knows nearly as well as my twin sister should that I am allergic to most forms of anesthetic, so the risk of being put to sleep for surgery is much higher for me than for most other people. So, for now, I will wear a compression shirt and work on the problem."

Marie shook her head. "I was just asking. But, for now, you’ll wear a well fitting bra and that will help with this little rash you have under your boobs."

"Rash."

"Yes. Your ‘fatty areas’ have ‘sweaty boob rash’ under them. That’s from wearing the compression shirt. Wear a nice bra for a few days and it’ll be gone. Turn around."

I did and Marie guided the bra up my arms and guided the hooks into the eyes in the back. Then she turned me to face her and adjusted my flesh in the cups and, I must admit, although I admit it reluctantly, I nearly filled out the bra. There was still some space in it, but not an awful lot.

"Yeah – those are just fatty areas. Definitely NOT boobs," Marie teased.

I was very embarrassed. "What size is this bra?"

"It’s a 32B, champ." She put her hands on the bra’s cups and squeezed. "You’ve got a nice handful there. Mitch is going to enjoy that."

"Very funny," I huffed. "Pants, please?"

"Ok, but first," Marie very quickly pulled the front of my panties down about four inches to reveal the heart shaped patch of short trimmed hair that Renee had left behind. "Oh! It’s adorable!"

I pulled away immediately, more than a bit shocked by Marie’s brazenness. "Hey! Knock it off. Come on, give me the pants!"

"They’re slacks, not pants, and they are pretty dressy slacks, too. They’re lined, so be careful putting them on. The zipper goes on the left."

It’s weird, but buttoning the slacks and pulling up the zipper, a chore that is very easy when the zipper is in the front, where a zipper belongs, is a very challenging job when the zipper is on your left hip. Marie eventually had to do it for me.

The slacks were more comfortable than any pants that I’d ever worn before, but they were a little long. Marie assured me that that was due to the fact that I had not put on my heels, yet.

I was a bit nervous about wearing heals – when I dressed up as Velma from Scooby-Doo, I wore some pretty clunky flats – but the chunky two inch heels that Marie provided that day were no more challenging to wear than cowboy boots.

The top was a maroon, tunic length sweater with a broad cable pattern that clung to my top and flared near my hips, disguising my lack of width there.

"That’s comfortable, right?" Marie asked taking in how I looked.

I pushed my hair out of my face for perhaps the eightieth time in the last three minutes and said that it was quite comfortable. I add that, if this was the kind of clothing I’d be wearing the whole time, I was fine with that.

Marie’s laugh indicated that I would not be wearing things like this for long.

All the way to the restaurant, Marie lectured me on hair and skin care, telling me what I’d need to do before bed – brushing my hair at least two hundred times, cleaning my face with makeup remover, using skin cream everywhere... it sounded like a three hour regime, but Marie promised me that it would take less than an hour tonight and that I would get faster within a few days.

When we arrived at the Indian restaurant that my sister ALWAYS picked for dinner, we entered and I was suddenly frighteningly aware of the fact that I was dressed as I was. I know that sounds weird, but back at the salon, I was more overwhelmed with fatigue and hunger to really think about it. I’d been there for nearly six hours by the time I left and in that time, no one had so much as looked twice at me. Now, as I stepped into the darkened restaurant, I caught sight of myself in a mirror in the lobby and my knees nearly gave out on me. What was I doing in a public place like this dressed like a woman?

I guess my concerns were put to rest when the hostess arrived and not only greeted us as ‘ladies,’ but also complimented my sweater as she guided us to a table where my gorgeous, Austrian sister-in-law, Hilda, sat waiting, already nursing a martini, her drink of choice.

She stood as we approached, gave each of us kisses on our cheeks and allowed Marie to enter the booth before she sat again. I sat opposite them and Hilda, who is easily six feet tall, very lanky in a way that most women would be self conscious about, but she turns into a sexy demeanor, looked me over, taking my hand in hers and smiling.

Before I move on, if you think that I might have ‘a thing’ for my sister-in-law, then you’re right, but it is just an infatuation – nothing I’d ever act on. She’s not just beautiful, she carries herself with a sense of confidence that I’ve never seen in another woman. I don’t feel anything sexual towards her, she’s just kind of like a superhero to me. I’m in awe of her the way I’d be in awe of Superman.

So, anyway, Hilda said, "Well, well, well, look at this beautiful lady." Her faint but still distinguishable accent making everything she said sound exotic. "I love the hair. So luxurious. Do you like it?"

Once again, I pushed my hair off of my face. "It’s taking some getting used to," I smiled. I’d lost track of how many times I’d performed that motion since waking up in the salon.

"Well, it’s very pretty, and you’re very pretty, too, Donnie."

Just then, Marie’s phone rang. She grabbed it said, "It’s Mitch." She took the call. Mitch was at my house earlier than we expected and wanted to drop off the credit card. She told him to come by the restaurant and text her from the parking lot. "I don’t want you seeing your new girlfriend until tomorrow night."

"He’ll be here in five minutes or so," Marie smiled. "Ok, so I have to work tonight, so Hilda is going to take you home and help you get ready for bed. Is it ok if she stays in your guest room for tonight? Tomorrow morning she’s going to do step by step makeup lessons with you. She’ll give you makeup plans for day time make up, evening makeup and special occasion makeup. By the time I get there, around noon, you’ll be an expert." Both of them laughed at that.

"With your new blonde hair," Hilda reached over and touched the hair that was draped over my shoulder, "you can have some very different looks for each part of the day or each event. This should all come pretty easily to you, Donnie, after all, you are an artist. Just think of your face as a canvas and it’ll be easy."

I rolled my eyes at this. "Different looks for different time of day? Do you guys do that?"

"Sometimes," Marie smiled, "but we’re not moving in the same circles that you’re going to be moving in. For trophy wives, makeup is part of the job."

I snickered. "In all the time I lived with Nancy, I never once saw her wear her makeup differently. It was the same every day."

"Well, to be fair," Marie shrugged, "you didn’t give her a lot of reasons to get all gussied up, did you? Hanging out on the couch or at some sports bar with you and Mitch aren’t exactly ‘events,’ now are they?" The look of derision on my sister’s face indicated a lack of enthusiasm for my life style.

Before I could defend myself, Marie’s phone chirped. "Mitch is outside. I’ll be right back."

Hilda stood and let her out and Marie disappeared through the restaurant.

"Look, Donnie," Hilda suddenly sounded very sympathetic, "I know this whole Nancy thing must be kind of tough for you. I’m sorry about that."

I was perplexed by that remark. Nancy and I had been apart for quite a while now and I’d been with Hilda at least a dozen times since the breakup. "I’m fine, Hildie. It’s been a long time since she left. I’m ok."

Hilda looked confused. "No, I mean..." she stopped and thought for a moment. "...umm... never mind."

Now, she really and my attention! "Wait... is Nancy ok? Did something happen to her?" Look, Nancy and I had broken up, but I still had strong feelings for her. I certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. "Is she ok?"

Hilda deflated a bit. I could see that she’d opened up a door that she’d not meant to open. "No, she’s fine, Donnie, it’s just... well... last week, Rie and I were out shopping and we ran into Nancy and she... well, I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but... she’s engaged. She’s
marrying a guy named Craig in October."

"Oh..." You know how you feel like something is over but then, like completely out of the blue, you realize it’s not. I mean, I knew that Nancy and I were over, she’d made that very clear, and I understood that she wanted different things from her life than I wanted from mine. We’d parted mostly amicably and I knew that is was done, but there was some part of me that fantasized that I’d run into her one day and the we’d end up together again. So, even though it shouldn’t have, Hilda’s news slammed into me like a runaway truck.

I guess that the impact of the news was written on my face, because Hilda grabbed my hands and squeezed them affectionately. "Donnie... I’m sorry that I blurted it out like that. I thought you knew. Are you ok?"

I nodded. "Yeah... yeah... I’m fine. Sorry. I just didn’t think that... hey, you know what, that’s great! Good for her. I wish her the very best." I nodded, unconvincingly.

Marie came bounding back in, happy as a golden retriever, showing us Mitch’s credit card. "I told Mitch to be ready to call his bank and report that his credit card was about to be melted." She laughed as Hilda let her back into the bench. She looked at me and then at Hilda and asked, "What did I miss? Did someone kill a kitten or something?"

I shook my head and took a deep breath to keep myself from becoming emotional over something that I knew had been inevitable.

"I thought you’d told Donnie about Nancy and Craig." Hilda said, almost scolding her wife.

"Oh..." Marie looked at me with sadness. "I’m sorry, Donnie. I didn’t want to tell you on the phone and today was the first time I saw you since we ran into them. I guess I just got caught up in getting you ready. Sorry. Are you ok?"

I nodded and sniffled a little as I replied, "Yeah, yeah, I’m ok. His name is Craig? Does he seem like a nice guy?"

Marie shrugged. "I guess. He’s a good looking guy, I guess. Tall. Handsome in an athletic way. Seems pretty well off. He’s an accountant, he said. He seemed very pleasant."

I shook my head. "Good looking, tall, athletic, well off..." I muttered, feeling very sorry for myself. "Everything I couldn’t give her, I guess."

"Alright, stop it," Hilda said with uncharacteristic force. "You’re a great guy, Donnie, and you know it. Now, come on – no feeling sorry for yourself. Nancy was a big part of your life, but that part ended and now you’re moving on. You need to be a grownup about this. Be happy for Nancy and start a new path for Donnie."

I smiled at her lecture. She was right, but I still needed to process all of this,

"Look at it this way," Marie said, with a lot more optimism than I wanted to be exposed to at that moment, "for the next two weeks, Donnie is going to go away and Dawn is going to experience a whole new life. At the end of those two weeks, Dawn make way for Donnie to come back and start a brand new life. A life without the bank threatening to take away his house or excessive pressure to take a crappy job. It’s a chance to realign you chakra and start anew. You'll have months to find just the right job that will make you happy and you can get back out and meet new people. You’ll find someone, Donnie, I promise."

There was a lot of logic in this argument and you know what? Why the hell not take advantage of this trip? That was that. Right then and there I decided that I was going to make the most of every aspect of this experience. "You’re right," I said with a nod and a grin, "Donnie is gone for the next two weeks. Dawn is going to have a great time and she’s going to come back from Hawaii happy and refreshed. Then Donnie can start all over again!"

"That’s my girl!" My sister applauded. "Let’s get some dinner!"

As promised, Hilda drove me home and gave me strict lessons on the proper cleansing and moisturizing of the female body. She put my hair into several cloth hair ties, one at the back of the top of my head and several along the ponytail to keep it from being pulled as I slept. She also dug out a silk pillow slip that Nancy had left behind. She said that the silk slipcover was better for the extensions because there would be less friction.

I was allowed, mercifully, to sleep in my usual sweat pants and tee shirt, but I was required to wear my bra. When I asked why, I was told that it was important that my breasts get used to the shape of the bra. I thought that was a bit much, but Hilda insisted and I had agreed to do whatever they demanded in order to prepare for the masquerade.

Before I pulled my shirt on, Hilda took a look at my breasts in the bra. As I told you, she works as a makeup artist in the east coast movie industry and she’s very, very good at her job. I don’t just say that because she’s my sister-in-law, I say it because she can be gone for weeks at a time to do a movie in Atlanta, or Florida, or somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic states when she’s not working around here. Luckily, due to the popularity of Stephen King and other authors like him, there was plenty of shows and movies being filmed near our home in New England.

She poked at my flab a bit and thought for a few moments. "Have you ever heard of ‘InstaBreasts?’"

I blinked. "No. Should I have?"

Hilda was in work mode and thinking about what she could contribute. "I suppose not, but I have and I use it a lot. It’s a pretty simple procedure that involves injecting a saline solution into a woman’s breasts to make them look fuller temporarily."

"How temporarily?" This sounded dangerous to me.

"Well, the basic saline injection only lasts twenty four hours. Then the saline is ingested by the woman’s body and she pees it out, but..." I knew that she was about to make a suggestion that I’d have no option but to agree to, but it scared me none the less, "... a few years ago, they developed an upgrade that they call ‘Vacation Breasts’ and they last sixteen to twenty one days before they start to breakdown and get peed out. I think we should consider the ‘Vacation Breasts’ treatment for you, Donnie. It would be a lot safer than inserts in your bra that could shift or even fall out at inopportune moments."

I sighed. I wasn’t real proud of these flabby things hanging on my chest, but they definitely took on a different look once they were supported by a bra. "Would I have to go to a plastic surgeon or something to have this done?"

"No, I’m certified to administer the shots," Hilda said and it was obvious she was making mental notes as she scanned my anatomy. "Not only can I make it so that you fill out the bra more naturally, I can inject them in a pattern that will make them look more like a woman’s breasts and less like moobs."

I hated that term for a man’s boobs – moobs – but I’d heard it a lot.

"I use the procedure more frequently than you’d think," she plied my breasts and thought. "It takes less than a half hour and there’s no bruising or anything. Let’s do it in the morning."

Ok, so I had that to look forward to! I slept pretty well, once I got use to the hair, and I slept unusually late, waking up at eight thirty the next morning. I called out into the hallway and down the stairs to tell Hilda that I was awake, but I got no answer. She must have gone to get her tool kit.

After I performed my usual morning regime which, up till that day, consisted of relieving myself, shaving, brushing my hair just enough to have it lay correctly and brushing and flossing my teeth. Obviously, shaving wasn’t required that morning, and I thought I should wait until for Hilda to brush my hair. I did take it out of the cloth hair ties, though, and took a good long look at this hair and my un-made-up face. I looked... nice, I guess. I definitely looked like a woman, if a somewhat
plain woman, but I knew that Hilda would change that. I smiled and realized that I needed to relax and smile more broadly and more prettily, so I practiced that for a few minutes. Then I practiced laughing. I was getting better at this! Sure, I could do this! Why not?

Then, I practiced how I moved my hair from my face. Marie had been right, if I followed her instructions, I looked more feminine, so I practiced and practiced and practiced and I shook my hair and I smiled and I laughed and I giggled.

I was really getting into it!

Then I practiced my voice. When I was dressed as Velma, I noticed that if I just raised my voice’s pitch a teeny, tiny bit and spoke a bit more expressively than I did normally, I pulled off the deception just fine, so that’s what I tried – and it worked!

"Such a pleasure to meet you!" I said into the mirror. "My name is Dawn. Yes, I’m Mitch’s girlfriend. Oooohhh, that picture of your baby is so beautiful! She looks just like you! Mitch and I? Oh, we’re taking it slow. I don’t think we’re ready for marriage, just yet, but maybe someday..."

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" Came Hilda’s amused interruption from the door to my lavatory.

I sighed as I turned red. "I was just... practicing."

Hilda laughed and smiled. "I know. You were pretty cute, though. Come on. We’re starting with a makeup tutorial."

And we did. Hilda was right, my experience with fine art techniques did make the whole process more easy and I found that if I didn’t think about the face in the mirror as mine, I was able to draw lines and blend colors very easily. That did not apply to fake lashes, though. That was my biggest challenge of the morning, but eventually, I got the hang of it.

Hilda decided I needed three distinct looks – daytime, evening and special event. As I mastered each look, she took three pictures of my made up face – right, center and left – and sent the photos to my phone so I could use them as a guide when doing my makeup on my own.

As noon approached, Hilda suggested that I spend a little time brushing my hair with a much softer brush than I usually used. I went to work on my two hundred strokes and Hilda set about preparing the InstaBreast procedure.

When I’d finished and she was ready, Hilda had me sit in a reclining chair in my living room and spread a cream across my chest.

"This will numb your chest so you don’t feel the needles," she smiled down at me. "Your breasts aren’t as sensitive as a woman’s, of course, but the needles would still hurt without numbing the skin."

I admit, I was relieved.

When I was numb, she went to work and worked very quickly. She began on the out side of each breast and she sat back and compared them against each other to insure that they remained balanced. I had my Alexa smart speaker play some music so I’d have something to listen to. Hilda was so focused on what she was doing that she couldn’t hold a conversation.

As I laid back, I began to think about what the trip might be like. I loved flying, but this was a fourteen hour nonstop from Boston to Hawaii. That’s a long flight! If I was planning it, I probably would make it an overnight flight so I’d sleep through the bulk of it. I wonder if Mitch would plan things the same way, or if the whole company had to fly together.

Then it occurred to me - I’d never get through TSA security with my current license as my only ID. I was about to mention this to Hilda when my front door opened and Marie came bursting in with more shopping bags.

"Hi!" She called.

Hilda sat back with a smile and a sigh and she said, "You’re just in time. Come look."

Marie was still pulling off her heavy jacket as she entered the living room with a smile that turned into an amazed dropped jaw look. "Those are real?"

"As real as yours," Hilda smiled.

"Donnie! This is incredible! You’re a woman! Have you seen these?"

I shook my head as Hilda said, "I just finished. Pretty nice, though, huh?"

Marie shook her head. "Donnie, come see in the mirror." She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards my hall closet. Immediately, I noticed the extra weight and movement of what had been my slightly flabby chest, but now had become my very full breasts.

When she opened the closet door and I saw myself in the full length mirror, I gasped. "Oh, my..." there was a woman looking back at me. A woman with long, luxurious, blonde hair, an impeccably made up face and... boobs. Nicely formed, perky, fleshy, firm, yet yielding... boobs.

"This is awesome!" Marie was bouncing with excitement. "Wait till Mitch sees this! He’s going to flip out!"

"Stop!" I said a bit too loudly. "Mitch is NEVER going to see these things undressed, understood?"

"No," my sister smiled and swayed her shoulders as she spoke in a singsong voice, "but he’ll see them in your bras, and he’ll see them in your blouses, and he’ll see them in your swimsuits, and he’ll see them in your dresses, and most importantly, he’ll see them in your nightie. You are going to be Mitch’s wet dream for the next ten years, little sister. I guarantee it! Come on, we have an appointment with a stylist at Kaminsky’s."

She pulled me back into the living room and pulled items from her bags. She pulled out another pair of panties cover in elaborate lace.

"Oh, wait," Hilda said. "Let me show you how to tape yourself before you put on your panties."

"Tape!?" I was not familiar with this concept and didn’t love the idea of putting tape on my most sensitive part.

"Don’t worry," Hilda smirked. "Your penis will be wrapped in gauze. Here, stand on the second step so I can do this for you."

Well, let me tell you, until you’ve had the sensation of having your balls pushed back up inside of you, you can never understand the feeling. It wasn’t painful, but certainly not pleasant. As Hilda worked, she assured me that I would get used to this procedure and by the time I left for Hawaii it would be as easy as putting on my shoes, but I kind of doubted that she was telling the truth.

She showed me how to wrap the gauze around my shaft and then tape it down in the space where my legs meet using medial tape. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but once the panties were in place, it was fine. Of course, this whole process also involved a great deal of conversation about the heart that had been shaped from my pubic hair just above my penis. With no sign of a male organ there, it was pretty cute. I mean, if I was about to have sex with a woman and I saw a little heart of cropped hair sitting just above her vagina, it would have turned me on, but now that I was taped, getting turned on didn’t seem possible. It was tight enough to discourage those kinds of thoughts.

So, the matching bra was a little tight. Marie suggested that Hilda may have over done them a little, but since we were going to see a stylist, a bra fitting was part of the service.

Eventually, we said good by to Hilda who went home until she was to join us later for dinner with Mitch, and my twin sister and I headed to Kaminsky’s – a very high end women’s clothing store about fifteen miles from my home. For the consultation, Marie dressed me in a very pretty, but plain, denim dress with long sleeves and a knee length skirt. Nothing special as far as I could see, but Marie explained that this was the only dress that she owned that came from Kaminsky’s and that the dress cost a lot more than I suspected. "It’s important that we make a good impression," she said, emphatically.

Let me tell you a little something about my sister’s personality. She is seventeen minutes older than me and she has always acted as if those seventeen minutes gave her decades of wisdom beyond my own. I don’t mean that as an insult, just a tease, but it is true. She is a sweetheart, but she will take over any situation with our hesitation. Type A personality all the way – Maybe even a type A plus personality.

Our older sisters, Claudia and Angela are fourteen years older than us, so it was like there were two families. First my parents raised Claudia and Angela, who are also twins, then, just as they became a bit more independent, they had Marie and me to deal with. Both of them live within an hour of our homes, but we only see them every now and then. Usually at Christmas or a funeral. To give you an idea of how close we are, the last time I went to a family funeral, I saw Angie and asked how her husband was doing, only to be told that they’d been divorced for nearly year.

Other than Mitch, though, Marie has always been my closest friend, Hilda too, I guess, but Marie has always teased me that she wished I’d been a girl so that she had a little sister. I am slightly shorter than her, so she’s got that much to tease me about and, truth be told, we did share a lot of clothing growing up. Polo shirts, tees shirts, anything unisex was in a communal closet in the hallway – that meant that almost all of my shirts were, at some point, worn by Marie. That was fine until Marie started wearing perfume. I would sometimes grab a shirt and head out the door, jump into Mitch’s car and be halfway to school before we’d notice that I smelled like lavender or orchards or bubblegum.

Anyway, she was really into this whole little sister fantasy now that she had an opportunity to act on it in the real world.

We met my stylist, Randall – and he was a ‘Randall’ definitely not a ‘Randy’ – and, as Marie predicted, we began with measurements including a bra fitting. Randall measured me and hemmed and hawed and finally asked, "Are we looking for a new wardrobe or just a few new accent pieces?"

In brief, Marie explained that I had just started dating a new guy who was very successful and that I had a whole series of social events, both formal and casual, coming up, and that I was being taken to Hawaii to support my new beau at a work retreat. So, I would need at least a week’s worth of clothing for the cold of New England and then resort clothes for the trip – including clothes for tropical breakfasts and lunches, semi formal dinners and three formal events.

You could almost see Randall salivating over the commission. "That is a very pricey amount of clothing, ladies," he hissed, "are you sure that you can afford Kaminsky’s style for such a big order?"

Frankly, I was intimidated by this guy’s aloofness, but not Marie. She handed him Mitch’s card and suggested that he not only run the card to check the credit limit, but call Mitch at his office to be sure that he was authorizing the purchases. She jotted down Mitch’s cell number on a scrap of paper and handed it to him.

Randall excused himself for a moment while I stood in my denim dress and fretted and Marie pulled out dress after dress and made sounds of longing. "Promise me that after you get back I can borrow some of the clothes you buy here," she said, feeling the soft materials.

"You can have them all," I smirked.

"We’ll see," Marie smiled. "We’ll see."

When Randall returned, he was not only gracious, he was downright sycophantic. He treated Marie like an heiress, but he continued to speak ‘about’ me rather than ‘to’ me.

"I imagine that you’ve heard that she has a rather boyish body before, right? Well, the best way to deal with her broad shoulders is to show them off and celebrate them and the best way to deal with her lack of hips is to use a waist cincher – nothing too uncomfortable, but something to give her a little more shape. So, where do you want to start?"

Because the afternoon was already waning, Marie suggested that Randall find something in which I would look breathtaking for that night, and then, if we liked his choice, we’d come back the next day and he could lay out all kinds of selections for me.

With that in mind, Randall went to work. Within a few minutes, he had me in a very comfortable and beautiful new bra with a very tight waist cincher wrapped around my midsection showing Marie how well it created curves where none existed before. I might have had something to say about this item of clothing if I could have breathed. It was not at all comfortable, but both Randall and Marie assured me that this was not for daytime wear, so I would only have to use it with evening wear and only if that clung to my form. Just a few hours a night – but, of course, I was wearing it tonight, so I might as keep wearing it all day just to get used to it. Wonderful, right?

Randall called in some minions and began displaying dresses. Marie was in heaven, I was so overwhelmed and uncomfortable that I just stood, wide eyed and mum.

Since that evening’s dinner was not exactly a formal event, the restaurant that Mitch had chosen was the kind of place that people in his income bracket frequented on the weekends – I’m not sure that Mitch had actually been there before, if so, I had not gone with him – regardless, the unofficial dress code was ‘nice clothing,’ not formal.

Randall and company laid out a series of black dresses, stating that the classic black dress was always fashionable, but Marie was looking for something more striking than just a little black dress.

And she found it.

It was black, but it was also striking. It was made from a stretchy material that hugged my shape sexily. The scoop neckline revealed a lovely display of my new found cleavage, with straps just wide enough to cover my bra straps going over my shoulders. The shoulders were bared in a ‘cold shoulder’ design with lace sleeves that hung loosely down my arms to my wrists, with the lace revealing my pale skin beneath. The tight, stretchy skirt ended a few inches above my knees with the same lace that was featured on the sleeves used as a decoration on the bottom hem.

I stood in my bare feet and looked at myself in the mirror and I wished that I could date someone as beautiful as I was.

"She’ll need some very sheer, natural hose to wear under those," Randall said to Marie, as he fussed with every aspect of the dress I was wearing. "I’d recommend elastic tops rather than pantyhose, and, of course, she needs some very, very sexy heels."

Within a few minutes, I was wearing three inch, spiky heeled, closed toed, but mostly opened everywhere else, shoes and, as promised, they were very, very sexy.

When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe how absolutely luscious I actually looked, although my legs still looked pale without the sheer, elastic top stockings that Marie had chosen for me. I looked at how the dress fit me, how the shoes extended my legs, back and enhanced my buttocks, how my very long blonde hair stood out against the black dress and I was amazed. I turned to the side and looked at how my, now fully ‘B’ cup, beasts were enhanced by the clinging of the dress, how it hugged my bottom, which, yeah, could have been a bit bigger, but still looked tight and sexy, and then I turned and looked at myself from the other side, too. I was flawlessly female. No one would ever suspect I was not! Not only would this work, I had almost nothing to worry about, as long as I behaved correctly.

"Well, Princess," Marie whispered into my ear as Randall processed Mitch’s MasterCard payment, "you are something to behold. I just hope that Mitch is prepared for what’s coming his way tonight." When I just kept staring, she asked, "What do you think?"

"I... I can’t believe it, Rie. I look so... good. I’m not really sure what to think." It was true, too. I truly, did not know what to think of how I looked. ‘Babe’ was the only word that came to mind.

Marie kissed my cheek. "You’re as hot as any woman I’ve ever met, Donnie. I just hope that Mitch’s pants don’t split wide open when he sees you."

That remark actually made me very uncomfortable. Mitch and I were best buds. We’d done everything together growing up and as adults. "You’re kidding, right?"

Marie smiled, amused by my trepidation. "Of course I am, but you’d better be careful when you’re alone with him. He may forget that you’re his friend."

I considered that for a moment, but it was just too disconcerting to ponder, so I just laughed. "Yeah, I don’t think that Mitch is going to forget that."

Marie confirmed with Randall that we’d be back the next day to approve and assemble an entire wardrobe, then she chose a new matching bra and panty set in black and said that it was time to go. I changed back into my denim dress, which felt very plain and blah, now, and my lower, more practical shoes and we left.

"That was fun, wasn’t it?" Marie bubbled as she drove.

"I don’t know if ‘fun’ is the right word, but I did enjoy parts of it."

She checked the clock on the dashboard display. "It’s five thirty. Hilda is bringing my clothes to your place and I’ll get ready there with you, ok? Mitch is coming at seven. Are you excited?"

"Scared," I replied.

"Scared!? What do you have to be scared of? You look amazing!"

"I know, and I’m really getting into it, Rie, and that’s why I’m scared. I think I might like it too much."

Marie took my hand. "Don’t be silly, Donnie. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Relax and enjoy every soft, sexy feeling. It’s two weeks of beauty and luxury like most men never get to enjoy - but you do, Donnie, because you’re special. Just remember that. Whether you’re my little brother or my little sister, you’re special."

"Which do you prefer? I asked her.

"Huh?" She replied as she watched the road.

"Which do you prefer? Your little brother or your little sister?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "No matter which one you are, Donnie, I love you to the moon and back."

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

Then, after a moment of silence, Marie giggled and said, "But my little sister is a lot more fun to take shopping."

When we arrived back at my house, Hilda was already inside. She looked amazing in black, satin, high waisted pants, a white silk blouse with lace ruffles around the neck and down the front. Her sleeves bloused out and in long, relaxed waves until being wrangled back in by long, lace covered cuffs. Her height and her slender figure made the outfit look amazing, especially with the slender, four inch heels she wore.

"You girls look like you’ve had a productive day," Hilda said in her Austrian accent.

Marie kissed her wife’s cheek and smiled. "We have and we had fun, too. Tomorrow, we have to go back and get Donnie’s full wardrobe. He was a really good sport today, though. He tried on a bunch of dresses and looked beautiful in each one. Wait till you see what he’s wearing tonight! It’s beautiful."

Hilda looked at the clock on my wall and smiled. "Ok, but right now, the clock is ticking. Mitch will be here in forty five minutes. Upstairs! Go
on. Donnie - you’re wearing your ‘evening’ makeup plan tonight. Not your formal one."

I called back, "Am I wearing false eye lashes?" She’d given me that particular makeup plan with the option of natural or artificial lashes.

"I think that would be nice." Hilda called back as Marie and I entered my bedroom.

"Get into your black undies and do your makeup before you put on your dress," Marie instructed as she slipped off her jeans and pulled her blouse over her head.

"Are you getting changed right here, with me?" I asked, a bit astounded by she relaxed attitude.

"Donnie," she giggled, "currently, you have bigger boobs than me and your penis is hidden because my wife taped it away – while I watched, I might add. I’m just changing my bra and pulling on a dress. Neither of us has anything that the other hasn’t seen, so take a breath, relax and act like my sister, instead of my brother."

"Ok," I shrugged and began changing.

While I was in the process of putting on my new undies, I heard Marie giggle. I looked at her with a questioning look and she said, "I just think that your little, pubic hair heart is so adorable. What a shame Mitch won’t see it."

I rolled my eyes, finished dressing and went into my lavatory where all the makeup Hilda had provided me was still waiting. I looked at the photos on my phone and used them as a guide to paint on the appropriate colors and accent lines. Marie came in while I was carefully applying the false eyelashes.

"Wow," she smiled, "you’re really good at that! Could you help me with my makeup, too?"

I was strangely complimented by that. I used what rudimentary makeup information I had and the skills I had as an artist and I delicately layered color and lines on my sister. When I was finished, she looked in the mirror and smiled. "You really ARE good at this."

Suddenly, there were voices down stairs. One was a man. "Shit," I muttered, with my stomach suddenly filled with butterflies, "he’s early."

"Girls," Hilda called up, "Mitch is here and he’s waiting to take us to dinner."

"Just a moment!" Marie called down as she grabbed my dress and held it open for me to step into. "Moment of truth," she smiled.

The walk down the twelve stairs from my second floor to my first was the longest walk of my life. The butterflies had moved from my stomach to my chest and then on up to my head, and my knees were actually weak and shaking. When we reached the first floor, Mitch had his back to us, talking to Hilda. "I believe your date is here," she said to him as she indicated that Marie and I were behind him.

My stomach sank to my knees when he turned and the smile on his face dissolved into a slack jawed look of astonishment. The room was filled with uncomfortable silence and I was about to give up on the whole scheme and run back to my room when Mitch finally said, "Holy shit, Donnie..." I stood frozen, ready to run away. "...how did you... what happened... your breasts... Umm.... You look... I mean..." he took a deep breath and let it out, "... you’re... beautiful!"
 
Author's Addendum: InstaBreasts and ‘3 Week Vacation Breasts’ are real! https: //www.medicaldaily.com/boob-job-test-drive-vacation-breasts-of... -spend-3-weeks-larger-breasts-310274 ~Clara.
 
 
To Be Continued...