Part 3: Epiphany time, the enjoyment of wonderful femininity

Vaingirls, Beginnings: Joyce's Story, Part 3
By Jezzi Belle Stewart
 ©2000

This story is dedicated to Rori and Soto who run Transformations by Rori, the real Vaingirls. Thank you both for helping to make my feminine dreams come true.

*****

Joyce girded herself mentally. 'Here goes!' she thought.

She really believed, no, she knew, that her plan would both save her brother and, in the long run, make a better person out of him. "There is no way out for George", she said firmly, "but there may be for Georgie." And as she outlined the rest of her plan, she watched her brother's body language first indicate shock, then defiance, followed by despair, and finally settle into acceptance.

On the morning of the dance, with Charlene's last words of "...and you'd better follow our rules or else we distribute copies of the tapes and pics to everyone, including the district attorney!" ringing in his ears, George set out for Charlene's sister Jacqui's salon. He was George - his oldest boy's jeans and a ragged Chicago Bulls sweatshirt (He wouldn't need those clothes after this morning.) no makeup or nails, hair in a male tail and carrying the undergarments given him by the girls in a paper bag. They also would be discarded, but in this case, for even prettier ones. A U-haul with all his personal belongings in it was waiting behind the school. Joyce had found an apartment and lined up a job in Cincinnati that started Monday.

He remembered what Joyce had found out about Jacqui. Jacqui, being five years older than George, had had no real contact with him and so had no personal score to settle with him, although she had gone to school with his brothers and thought they were assholes. When Joyce had approached Jacqui and told her the severity of what the girls planned and to what degree George had already rehabilitated himself, she was ready to listen. She confided to Joyce that when she had told Charlene that she couldn't wait to get her hands on George's hair and face, it wasn't out of a desire for revenge, but because Jacqui loved a challenge. She wanted to see how feminine she could make George, an average male, look. Charlene had led her to believe that George was a crossdresser, and would be a willing participant.

Joyce had outlined her plan, Jacqui had agreed, and the two girls, who became fast friends, had spent the ensuing weeks before George's visit, planning and shopping for it. Jacqui told Joyce that while Charlene could be a real bitch, she thought that her sister and her friends were basically nice girls, and that she believed the plan would work. For her reformed brother's sake, Joyce hoped she was right.

It was felt that it would be too dangerous for George and Jacqui to really meet ahead of time as Charlene might find out and smell a rat, but the two had communicated by e-mail and exchanged pictures. (Jacqui wanted a pic of the pre- Charlene George so she could plan ahead, and George had demanded one of her, so he could see in whose hands his future lay.) From their electronic communications, and with Joyce's wholehearted recommendation, George believed he could trust Jacqui. While was in the dark as to the specifics of what the two girls had prepared, heknew the general plan, and knew, as he walked through Jacqui's salon door, that it would not be George who walked out.

"Hi Jacqui; I'm Georg... ie. Do your worst!"

Jacqui looked at the nervous young man before her, but saw the beautiful young woman he -no, she - could become. 'I have to think of him as her if this is to work' she thought, 'and so does he.'

That she had deliberately switched from George to Georgie when introducing herself was a positive sign, Jacqui thought, but the attitude that this makeover to young lady was the lesser of two evils would have to go. Georgie had to want this, to delight in it, or she'd never be able to pull off the rest of the plan.

"Georgie, honey", she exclaimed cheerily, "we've got six hours to turn you into the belle of the ball, and I am going to give you the pampering of your life. When you leave here you are going to feel so good that the first thing you'll do when you hit Cincinnati is make an appointment with a local salon for another makeover day!"

Georgie looked Jacqui right in the eyes. "Jacqui, I need the truth. Can you really make me look like a beautiful young lady and not just a femmy sissy boy? I have to know if this will be all worth it."

Jacqui tried to put all the sincerity she could muster into her voice and body language. "Truthfully, honey, you're a little tall, and a little heavy for the norm, your never going to be able to shop in the junior stores and no one will ever refer to you as petite. But your feet aren't too big, you have androgynous features, and most women would kill for beautiful hair and eyelashes like yours.

"Yes, I can make you look like a beautiful young lady. Really, though, to do what needs to be done, to convince the crowd that this is what you want for yourself, that you're grateful to Charlene and her crew for helping you toward that goal, you have to be a beautiful young lady. If you can do that, if you can be that lovely lady inside you, then Charlene and her friends really have done you a favor; what they've made you do has given you the feminine voice and mannerisms to be physically convincing.

"Use that lovely lady, that feminine spirit, to bring the body to life! Start now. This is going to be fun. Revel in it, enjoy it! Are you ready?" And she turned toward the back of the salon, the inner sanctum of femininity, with her arm cocked at her side so "she" could link with it, and waited.

George felt it. Georgie was there inside him/her. All beautiful pastel colors, welling up, enveloping him. 'Oh, hell'' she thought, 'let's get gorgeous!'

With a big smile on her face, Georgie linked arms with Jacqui: "Let's go make me beautiful, Sweets" She said gaily, leading the way toward her new life. And George settled himself into his mental armchair and prepared to just go along for the ride!

With a big sigh of relief, Joyce stepped out of the supply closet from which, through the slightly open door, she had been watching with baited breath. This was going to work. She fished her car keys out of her purse and left the salon. She would wait at the school for her first glimpse of her new sister.

Georgie gazed at all the equipment and supplies filling every nook and cranny of Jacqui's back room, all designed to pamper and beautify a girl, whether she was biologically one or not. Then Jacqui opened the next door, the door to the clothing boutique. All Georgie could think of was that this must be like what Howard Carter felt as he gazed for the first time into the tomb of Tutankhamen, and when asked what he saw, said "Things. Wonderful things!"

'Whe-e-e-e-e!' she thought, as Jacqui descended upon her and the process began!

Bare minimum: Not too embarrassing, she'd had to strip before Charlene and crew. But tuck? Tuck was new; the girls had wanted his "bulge" to be visible. Jacqui knew what to do, and made it as painless as possible. 'Now where did she learn to do that' she wondered. 'Now where did it go?' he wondered.

Shave and a wax job, two bits: ("Let's get all the pain out of the way first, dear.") "Ouch!" But being smooth and hairless from the nose down felt kind of good, albeit a little chilly. Plucked, the eyebrows looked really nice, and, pierced, ear potential increased dramatically. She added earring shopping to her "to do" list.

Hair today... gone tomorrow: Washed, highlighted, rolled, permed, combed out, pinned up, sprayed, and highlighted by rhinestone combs. Wow, did having someone mess with your head ever feel good! Curls piled, ringlets softly framing: 'just like out of a Jane Austin novel!' she thought, 'Cool!'

Nailed: Toe and finger. She loved them. Deep shiny pink acrylic, with silver glitter. But she heard the tiny voice from the virtual armchair: 'How ya gonna change the oil in the Buick with those?'

The eyes have it: The makeup felt good, smelt good, looked good... Lipstick last, she deliberately did that herself. ('Just like she's been doing it all her life.' thought Jacqui) The lipstick tasted good, too! She looked in the mirror for the first time. 'Gorgeous!' From the neck up. Still male downward, albeit hairless. 'Time for Phase Two.'

Butt and Boobs and Hips, oh, my: ("No, dear, you can't be a double D-cup; that's George thinking for you.") 'A corset????' "Jacqui, you bitch!" 'Hmmmmmm, but I do look good!'

Dress for success: Length, cleavage 'Cleavage!' color, style, material, and accessories. What's a girl to do?? George, in his virtual armchair, picked up the virtual sports section and bowed out early; Georgie and Jacqui were having fun!

Jacqui, having exhausted two whole rolls of film in a marathon photo opportunity and extractedpromises of letters from Cincinnati, finally pronounced Georgie as ready as she ever would be. She watched from the door as she opened the door of her car, sat down sideways, tucking the skirt of her dress under her, and gracefully swiveled her legs into the interior, every inch a lady. Jacqui waved and turned back into the salon; Georgie would do just fine.

On the way to the school, as Georgie drove, George still in his mental armchair reviewed the plans for after the dance. Georgie would leave as soon as possible... ('Think again, drabbie; I'm going to have fun!' interjected Georgie.) ...leave when she wanted to, amended George, bowing to the inevitable. The transition back to him would take place in the back of the U-haul while Joyce drove. 'Cincinnati here I come!' (Georgie was on the point of interjecting another mental comment, when she thought better of it; she needed George calm and relaxed in his armchair for the rest of the evening.)

When his father returned home later in the day, he would find the letter explaining that he, George, had gotten a great job offer to work on an oil rig off the Texas coast - a suitably masculine job - and he had to leave immediately, so as not to miss the opportunity. He would write. - He wouldn't, but he doubted that it would bother his father much. None of his brothers ever wrote, and he knew his dad just made up stories about them to tell his beer buddies. If his dad felt bad because of the lack of contact, he never let on.

George put his thoughts on hold, because Georgie was pulling into the school parking lot, looking for Joyce and their dad's car. Georgie needed to be 100% Georgie for the next several hours. Sliding lower into the virtual armchair, he decided to take a nap; she would wake him when it was time to leave and it was his turn.

Joyce was standing by her Dad's car anxiously waiting. She was dying to see the finished product! There was George's car now, pulling up alongside. Through the open right side window came a soft feminine voice, "Close your eyes, sis." She did so, and listened as the car door opened and the owner of the voice got out. She could hear the sound of high heels clicking. By the enchanting smell of "Lady" perfume, she could tell that the person was very close to her. "Open em up, sis."

"Ohmygawd!" Joyce stared wide-eyed at the vision before her. "George?"

"No. It's Georgie, honey. You like?" as she did a twirl.

Georgie's hair was newly honey blonde with highlights and pulled up into a mass of curls at the back, secured by pearl accented combs; wisps of bangs caressed her forehead, while curled tendrils brushed her cheeks and neck. Her makeup was flawless. The high arched brows gave her a wide-eyed innocent look enhanced by long fluttery lashes and the subtle shading of her eye shadow. Her cheeks had just a hint of blush. Her lips were pink to match her nails. Pearl drops hung from her pierced ears. Her white dress had filmy chiffon cap sleeves and a deep V-neck to show a hint of cleavage that was accented by a pearl necklace with a pearl drop poised right above it.

It fit tightly from her bodice (After negotiation, George and Georgie had compromised on C-cup.) over nicely flaring hips to just above the knees, where a spray of white chiffon fell to a three-foot diameter circle that just brushed the floor. Pink above-the-elbow length fingerless lace gloves with wrists circled by pearl bracelets and three-inch narrow heels of the same color completed the outfit. She was a vision of loveliness; innocence on the brink of womanhood, just the look Joyce and Jacqui had been going for. Joyce threw her arms around Georgie. "Oh, yes, sis. Oh, yes, I like very, very much!"

Arm in arm, both girls walked from the parking lot, up the stairs, and through the front doors of the school. George, in his virtual armchair, slumbered on. Georgie threw a virtual comforter over him and forgot about him. 'This is it, girl, the Big Show, and the curtain's going up.'