The Facial

Published on Oct 26, 1996

Transgender

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The Facial

by S. Miller

This was a typical argument, and it was probably my fault. Sometimes I can be a bit of an idiot. Wendy, my girlfriend, said she was going to get a facial instead of joining me in the pool this afternoon. I made a snide comment about women wasting so much money on things like caking their face with mud. I should have known better. These sorts of comments always set her off. But I really did consider treatments like that a waste.

"What makes you think it's a waste?" she asked. "You've never had it done to you."

"And never will. If it's so great, why don't you just go get some mud out of the yard and stick your face in it?" was my less than brilliant answer.

"A facial is very relaxing." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Yes, relaxing. I want you to go with me. See what it does for you."

After a few more minutes of argument, I capitulated. This wasn't worth ruining our relationship over. So with a triumphant grin, she went upstairs and called the salon to get me an appointment at the same time. We had just finished lunch in her kitchen. Her house overlooked the valley. Great views and a large pool. It really beat my cramped apartment, so I spent a lot of time there. The appointment was for 2 P.M. We sat on the porch sipping lemonade until it was time to go.

I had no idea where this place was, so we went in Wendy's car. I was very surprised to find that it was a rather seedy looking place, not in the tonier part of town. It wasn't Wendy's usual style. I was a bit nervous. Getting a facial wasn't exactly a thing for a man to do. We walked in.

"Wendy!" shouted a large man in a swishy voice. "How good to see you."

I winced. I wasn't big on stereotypes, but this guy filled the bill for all of them.

"And this must be Harold. Pleased to meet you. I'm Freddie. I own this place."

We shook hands, and he dispelled one stereotype. He had a bone crusher grip. It annoyed me. Almost as much as being called Harold. People call me Harry. I hate my name.

"Wendy says to give you the works," he continued. "She says you don't appreciate why a woman likes to pamper herself. I am to give you a treatment that will give you that appreciation."

I was beginning to suspect she'd said more than that, based on the almost invisible smirk. I felt a little uneasy, but chalked it up to this guy knowing too much about what I considered private matters. I sat in a chair and said "OK, lets get started. Pamper me."

Wendy gave me a dirty look. Freddie just handed me a robe and told me to strip and put that on. It was a pale pink terrycloth robe, I noted with some apprehension. Freddie was smiling, Wendy was just looking at me expectantly. I went to a changing room, and came back wearing nothing but the robe. I was surprised that it fit. I wondered why I had to strip to get a facial, but didn't want to make any more of a scene. I sat back in the chair, and Freddie lowered the back so I was almost lying down. Wendy was already relaxing in the next chair over, and an assistant was spreading some green goop over her face. I closed my eyes, as instructed, and tried to relax. I felt something soft and wet being spread on my face. I felt hands on my shoulders, kneading my tense muscles. I begin to feel a warm glow. This was great. I was already regretting my comments this morning. I relaxed even more and was soon asleep.


I feel dizzy, a bit disoriented. No, hell, a lot disoriented. What happened? Something doesn't feel right. I can't see. I drift back to sleep.


Back again. I still can't see. Something is definitely wrong. I still feel groggy, feverish. My arms are strapped down. So are my legs. I try to collect my thoughts. This is no way to run a beauty salon. Shortly I hear footsteps. There is greyness instead of black. A voice, Freddie's I think, tells me to relax. He wipes my face off with a washcloth. I can see now. I'm still dizzy. I feel the straps come off. I'm waking up enough now to suspect what didn't feel right. Freddie helps me up. I'm in a bed, not the chair. Why? As I sit up I feel weight on my chest. That's not right. I'm still covered in mud, but it is reddish brown, not green. Wait a minute. I came in for a facial, why am I covered head to toe in brown mud?

Wendy and Freddie lead me to a shower. The water comes on and the mud begins to flow off my body. I feel hair clinging to my back. My hair? I have short, thinning hair. It is my hair. Worse. I have breasts. I'm really jolted awake now. Farther down, I have no penis, no balls. I pass out again.


I wake up again, in the bed. I feel much better now, and take stock of myself. I actually seem to be a woman. My hair is light brown. It's hard to tell lying down, but I think my breasts are large, but not extremely so. My hand went to my crotch, where I felt the moist lips of a vagina. This was not good. What the hell was going on?

Finally Wendy came into the room. They'd been keeping watch, waiting for me to wake up. She began to explain.

"I was really getting tired of some of your attitudes, Harry. You treat me nice, but you sometimes act like I'm a child or something. And you have no understanding whatsoever of women. That's about to change. Friday was the last straw. Yes, Friday. You've been under for two days.

"You've gone through an experimental treatment using a retrovirus to carry new DNA to every cell in your body. The virus also reshapes the body to match. But don't panic yet. It can be reversed. We took some cell samples from you before we started. And don't worry about work. I called your boss and extended your vacation another two weeks. I know that uses it up, but I think you'll find the experience worth it. Two weeks from now we'll crank up another viral batch and get you back to normal. You'll spend two weeks as a woman. I hope you'll enjoy it. Rest now. I'll be back in a while and we'll go out."

After she left, I did rest. My watch was gone, so I had no idea how much longer I slept, but I awoke feeling somewhat better. Then I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. Looking back was a very pretty young woman with long brown hair and hazel eyes. She had nice firm breasts, probably a C cup, firm waist, and a nice butt. I was attracted to her, which was confusing, because I was her. I fondled my new breasts. A wave of electric excitement shot through my stomach. Maybe this wasn't so bad. A finger found my vagina, and went in. More waves, then an explosion. When my vision cleared, I saw Wendy in the mirror, standing behind me with a smirk on her face. I whirled to face her, momentarily forgetting in a flash of anger my pleasure.

"What the fuck did you do to me? Why am I like this? I'm not some macho stud you needed to take revenge on."

"No, you're certainly not a stud. Not now," she snickered. "But seriously, I wanted you to experience this. You do have a problem understanding me. It is not revenge. I'm going to spend the next two weeks with you. We'll have a lot of fun. Get over the I'm still a man' attitude. You are not a man anymore, but if you behave you'll be back to normal soon enough."

I glared at her, then realized I was standing there completely naked. I let out a small gasp and jumped back in the bed, pulling the sheet over me.

Wendy just smiled and said, "Oh good. You're already where I want you. I told you, don't be angry, or try to be macho. Enjoy it. I'm even going to give you a lesbian experience as your first. I know it would be too much of a shock otherwise."

At first I wasn't sure what she meant. But then she began stripping. I stared, fascinated. I should have had a raging hard-on, but all I felt was a bit of moistening between my legs. She crawled into bed and began sucking on my breasts. I felt waves of pleasure through my whole body. She was soon using her tongue on my clit. I was writhing in pleasure, and had orgasm after orgasm. This was incredible. I got into the spirit, and gave her a few of her own.

After a while, she got up. I was disappointed, but she told me, "Relax, I'll be back in a sec." She disappeared into the bathroom. It was very dark, and I'd drifted back toward sleep, when I felt her get back in the bed. She crawled between my legs again, and began kissing my thighs and belly. I felt her move up my stomached, and she began playing with my breasts again. I was enjoying this so much that I almost didn't notice when she lifted herself up somewhat. I was astonished when I felt something poking around my crotch, and then it slid inside me. She had a dildo strapped on.

"Enjoy, love. I want you to be fucked, but I was pretty sure you wouldn't stand for a real man to do it." She then began a rhythmic pumping. Something in me noted that she was really good at this. I would have to ask her how she got the practice. But all I could do now was meet her every thrust. My hips bucked until I finally came. She left the dildo inside me and lay down. It was a bizarre feeling.

We drifted off to sleep. I must have really been tired, as it seemed only seconds later Wendy was gently shaking me awake. It was 6 P.M., and she was dressed in a light blue sun dress. She got me out of bed, and I showered. My skin felt so smooth, even my legs. The water pounding on my breasts was erotic, but I snapped out of it before too long. I dried off, and Wendy had some clothes laid out on the bed.

The panties went on first. They felt nice, silky wisps of fabric sliding up my legs. The bra was comical. I had a hard time getting it fastened. Then I sat in my new underwear while Wendy applied nail polish and makeup. When my nails were dry, I put on a pair of hose, a half slip, then a light blue silk shirt and dark blue skirt. My shoes were a pair of blue pumps. Wendy was making sure that I was feminine looking for my first time outside. I am still amazed at how little resistance I put up.

"By the way, we need a new name for you. How about Helen?"

It started with an H, same as Harry, why not? I nodded.

We walked to her car. The neighborhood was still seedy, and we walked quickly. At least she wasn't making me wear some spike heeled shoes suitable only for decoration. The heels were under two inches, and I quickly adapted to them. It was getting dark, and we took off in a hurry.

Wendy drove us to a well known restaurant downtown. I got some looks from men, which made me a bit uncomfortable. I guess women had to get used to it. The food was superb, and we were slightly tipsy as we left. We probably should not have driven, but we made it safely back to Wendy's house. She told me I'd be staying in the guest bedroom, and she had some clothes put up for me in the closet and dresser. I got out of the nice clothes I had on. Although the feeling of wearing hose was thrilling at first, now I found it was hot and restrictive. And it was a royal pain when I had made my first venture into the forbidden realm of the ladies room at the restaurant. My toes felt a little pinched as well. It felt good to get the shoes off. I found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt in the dresser, and put them on.

I found Wendy making a pot of coffee in the kitchen. We spent the evening just talking. She was very anxious for me to enjoy my experience. Two weeks was not enough time to really find out what it was like to be a woman, but she was determined to give me as many snippets of experience as she could fit in. It got pretty late before we knew it, and we went to bed, separately.

I slept like a log. I am still feeling the effects of having a virus running rampant through my body. I woke up confused for a second about where I was, and why I felt so strange. It came back in a flood. But I did feel refreshed. I put on a robe and went to get breakfast. Wendy was already up, and I joined her on the patio. It was a crisp cool morning, and the view was spectacular. That and the sensations from my new body made breakfast very pleasant. Today's destination was the mall. I was going to experience shopping for clothes as a woman.

I was wearing slacks, another silk blouse, knee-highs and some low heel sandals. We went from store to store, trying things on, rejecting most. We had lunch in a place across the street - neither of us felt like the greasy excuse for food that was all you could find in the food court. We left the mall and went to a number of places downtown and around. Wendy certainly knew how to shop. But since the plan was for me to return to my previous maleness in about 10 days, we didn't actually buy much. I did get my ears pierced (she said the holes would disappear when I returned to normal), and sported a pair of aquamarine studs. I brought home only a couple of dresses, a pair of shorts, a pair of slacks, and several tops. I was also the reluctant owner of a green and yellow bikini. Wendy had a heated pool, glassed in against the cool weather. She made me put the bikini on when we got home, and we went for a dip. We sat by the pool sipping margaritas and watching the sun descend under the mountains far to the west. As darkness encroached, we got a bit chilly even inside the glass enclosure, so we went in and changed. We fixed some pasta and smoked trout for dinner, then relaxed until bedtime. My first full day as a woman (at least one that I could remember) came to a pleasant close. This wasn't so bad. I was becoming accustomed to the weight of my breasts and the lack of a penis. I missed standing up to pee, but the light, limber body I now had made up for it. I put on a short gown and went to sleep.

The agenda for today was similar. After breakfast on the patio, we did some shopping, and watched a movie. To me it seemed like the object was for me to be seen by as many people as possible. I got more than a few glances from men. My male self was revolted, but at the same time I enjoyed it. We dressed for dinner, and ate at a popular Italian place. We walked around the historic district, enjoying the evening. Two girlfriends enjoying each other's company. No sexual overtones. This was a lot of fun, and I felt we were growing closer as a result. I guess that was the whole point of her doing this to me.

Friday was different. We spent part of the day out and about, as we had done all week. But Wendy drove us home early. Then she dropped the bombshell. We had dates. I protested, to no avail, that we were engaged, how could she go out with another man? Her unassailable logic was that I wasn't a man any more, and besides, I was dating too. I was extremely nervous about this. I have never had a gay thought in my mind. Now I was supposed to go out with a guy. But as the afternoon wore on, I found myself dressed and made up.

At 6:30, the doorbell rang. I was a nervous wreck, but Wendy just smiled as she opened the door. Her date was a guy named Bob. He seemed polite enough. My date was Dennis, who was one of Wendy's coworkers. She wouldn't date someone she worked with, but thought it was OK for me to do so. Dennis was fairly good looking, at least from my new perspective, but was painfully shy. They both had brought flowers. We put them in water, then left for dinner. The evening got off to a very slow start. I couldn't say too much about myself, since my real life was as a man. Dennis didn't say much at all. I had to really work at getting him to talk, until we hit on the subject of archeology (don't ask). This was one of his hobbies, almost a passion. I had a passing interest in it, so we finally got something resembling a conversation going. Once he started, though, he opened up about other things. We really hit it off. We probably could even have been friends with me in my male body, but that is something we'll never know. I found myself fascinated with him from a woman's perspective. I had too much to drink, and didn't even realize how I'd been behaving until the next day. Both of these guys were perfect gentlemen. When they dropped us off they got kisses, and didn't insist on more. I found out later that Dennis was coerced into this by Wendy, and Bob was a friend of his. I think Dennis was a bit afraid of Wendy. Perhaps that explained it, or maybe he was just a nice person.

It was when I woke up Saturday morning, and relived the date, that I spooked myself. I had actually enjoyed the kiss. How could I explain this?

Wendy found me in the kitchen cooking breakfast. As I was whistling and smiling, obviously in a good mood, there was no need to ask if I regreted the date. We talked about it. I had to come to terms with enjoying a date with a man. My masculine self was still strong, or so I thought, so I was surprised at having enjoyed myself. But Dennis was a nice person, I enjoyed his company, and probably would have even as a man. But he seemed to be very shy around women. Maybe that was it. He hadn't been intent on getting into my pants, so I didn't feel threatened. The shocking thing that I then realized, was that I wouldn't have minded. Less than a week, and I was already beginning to react and behave as a female.

We spent the rest of the day swimming, hiking, and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. I was already getting used to this body, no longer constantly thinking about my breasts and pussy. But once in a while, I did feel a thrill as my hair brushed my arm or my breasts bounced as I ran or jumped.

Sunday was much the same, except that Dennis called shortly after lunch. He asked me out for dinner tonight. An odd night for a date, but I accepted.

I put a great deal of effort into getting ready, and got help with my makeup form Wendy. I was just putting on the finishing touches when the doorbell rang. I was gaining a new respect for what women did to go anywhere. I didn't want him to think me rude, so I quickly finished and grabbed my purse.

The dinner was wonderful. The food was good too. When I found out that he lived alone, a plan began to form. With some gentle nudging, he suggested going back to his place, and I didn't put up too much of a fight. I couldn't believe I was doing this. We sat on his sofa and talked, gradually moving together, until he finally put his lips to mine. The rest was history, as they say. We eventually moved to the bed, leaving clothes strewn about. I let him climb on top, and got lost in the waves of pleasure as he entered me. Several hours and a a lot of orgasms later, we drifted off to sleep.

I was startled by the alarm. I was supposed to be on vacation. Then I realized it wasn't mine, and where I was. "Wow!" I thought. I really did it. And I really, really enjoyed it. I had to think about this. I could learn to enjoy this lifestyle. Dennis got up and spent some time in the bathroom. When he was done, I took a quick shower, put on my slightly wrinkled clothes, and joined him for breakfast. We didn't say much, but it was obvious he was wondering if I was feeling any regret, and whether he could call me again. Having been there, I knew what he felt. So I made sure he knew I'd enjoyed myself, and hoped to see him again. He drove me back to Wendy's before going to work.

Wendy wasn't up yet, but I guess my entrance woke her. She appeared just as I was about to head to my room for a change of clothes. She followed me in, and watched as I changed into jeans and a t-shirt. She had a quirky little smile. Her plan had worked. There could only be one reason I was walking in at 8 in the morning. This is what she had wanted all along.

Nothing about it was said that day or the next. Wednesday evening I went out with Dennis again, with the same basic results. I enjoyed his company, enjoyed the sex, and was beginning to feel a romantic attraction. It was unfortunate that I had an appointment with Freddie tomorrow. The change back would take the weekend, and I'd still end up with a weight loss. Not that I couldn't use it, I was quite a bit overweight. But what a way to diet. How would I explain it?

Then Wendy told me I didn't have to change back. I wondered if this was some elaborate plot of hers to dump me. But no, we'd enjoyed each other's friendship over the past week or so, once I'd gotten past my initial anger. She just wanted me to experience this, and if I wanted to stay a woman, we'd be best friends. We discussed it, and I was about ready to stay, but then I wondered what I'd do for a living. I had no female identity, and no job.

Surprise! Wendy pulled a large envelope out of a drawer, and dumped it on the kitchen table. Driver's license, birth certificate, a couple of credit cards, and a degree that looked suspiciously like mine, but for a Helen Simons. That accomplished, she told me I had an interview with the engineering department at her company on Monday. Getting the job was not a given, but I was a good programmer, and had the references (also in the envelope) to prove it. I was astounded. She must have been setting this up for months. And she knew I'd go for it.


It has now been six months. I've never regretted my decision. My life as a man hadn't been horrible, but this was incredibly fun. There are some drawbacks. My salary is lower than it had been, and I don't seem to get taken quite as seriously. This job is not bad, but I really did like my old one. I don't think I could go back there like this, though. It would just be too weird.

Things are progressing nicely with Dennis. I've had to go on the pill. Periods are no fun. But I like my new life, and still thank Freddie every time I see him.

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