Tables Turned

by

Jean M. Chambers

 

Mary greeted me at the front door when I arrived home, as expected. Her permed hair was colored a beautiful, pale blonde and framed her face perfectly. Dark black eyeliner, pencil thin brows, lashes and blue eye shadow made her blue eyes look piercing. Mary's short, black, cocktail dress fit her like a glove.. The high gloss shine of her two inch long, red fingernails caught the light as she handed me my customary drink.

"Dinner will be ready in a moment dear" she said meekly.

Over the past year I had turned her into a sensuous creature. I had trained her well, molded her into a living, breathing, Barbie doll. Mary had been the definition of plain when I met her. She only wore blue jeans and cotton tee shirts. Her idea of shoes were hiking boots or sneakers. She was, to say the least, very unsightly. Now she was perfect. Initially, she complained constantly about the changes I wanted her to make. She would tell me things like the heels on the shoes I picked for her were too high to walk in, or the dress I bought her was too snug or short, or putting on perfect makeup everyday was a hassle. She even said that having her nails and hair done every few days was a hassle and a waste. Most of all, Mary wasn't a prissy girl. She didn't like being a 'Barbie', as she put it. Personally, I couldn't understand why not. Why wouldn't she to be a beautiful 'Barbie' and lounge around like a model, always dressed in beautiful clothes? Why not? Because she was Tomboy.

 

I met a man at the park who was training his dog to be obedient. He was using and electronic training collar. That is when the idea to use one on Mary started forming. I shopped around and bought a fancy one that looked like a necklace. It even had a bark training feature, so I didn't have to hear her complain or worry about her telling someone what I was doing. If she tried to speak, she would get shocked. If she didn't do what I told her to she would get shocked. I had an invisible fence installed close around the house when she was out shopping one day. That would insure she couldn't leave the house when I wasn't home. Total control. One night soon after, while we were making love, I buckled the collar around her neck. She didn't know what it was, she thought I was just being kinky. Until the next morning when she tried to take it off and found she couldn't. Then I turned it on and explained the rules. She was angry and started screaming, so I turned the bark training feature on. It only took a moment for her to catch on. She stormed out of the house, heading for the car but never made it that far. Several feet down the sidewalk Mary dropped to her knees in pain. She started to scream but stopped abruptly when she received a second intense jolt. I helped her back inside the house, where I repeated the rules. This time she paid attention. Occasionally I used the manual remote to correct her disobedience, but after that initial experience she was more than agreeable to do my bidding.

 

Mary's five inch, black, patent pumps clicked on the wood floor. I loved the way her high heels made her walk on her toes, and her hips sway back and forth. So did every male that saw her when we were out. All of the men lusted after her. She paused on the way back to the kitchen to tell me she had a surprise for me later in the evening. I grunted an acknowledgement and swigged my drink. The Scotch burned when it went down. The seams in her stockings caught my eye as she walked back towards the kitchen door to check on dinner.

"Wait!" I commanded

She turned meekly towards me. Fear filled her eyes.

"The seams of your stockings are crooked!" I chastised.

Mary quickly twisted around to check them. As she did, I thumbed the small remote attached to my key chain. She immediately grabbed at the wide, gold choker around her neck, then dropped to her knees squealing like a wounded animal. I let go of the button and she relaxed, sobbing.

"Fix them, now!" I spat.

She stood up slowly. The shock from choker around her neck had stunned her. It was really a fancy shock collar for training animals. The receiver at the back of her neck was kept hidden from view by her long hair. It worked extremely well for controlling her. I adapted it for my use when she resisted my early attempts to change her. Now, a slight press of the little button corrected any disobedience. I had the perfect wife. She couldn't take it off because it was locked on. Leaving the house was not possible either The invisible perimeter fence I had installed saw to that. Passing too close to it would be rewarded by a very, very painful shock. She did what I wanted, when I wanted, and that was all.

 

I sat down at the table and waited for her to serve me. First she poured me some wine, then placed a white cloth napkin across my lap. A few minutes later she returned from the kitchen carrying the entrée and served me. She stood by my side and waited until I tasted it. After I had given my approval, she was allowed to server her self and sit down to eat. We ate in silence. When my wine glass was close to empty she refilled it, without waiting for me to ask. She smiled at me across the table. Somehow, the flickering candle light made her look evil. My fork slipped in my grasp and I slumped back against my seat. I stared at her past the candles. Her smile grew. I started to ask her what she had done, but no sound passed my lips. Mary patted her lips with her napkin being careful not to mess up her lipstick, smiled at me, and stood up.

"Now, you bastard, it's time for your surprise." She said, walking sultrily around the table, dragging a finger along it's surface like she was having foreplay with it. I couldn't move. Hard as I tried, I couldn't move a muscle, only follow her with my eyes.

"You're paralyzed, dear. Surprised? It is only temporary. You'll be able to move again in a few hours, but not before I give you my present."

An amused smile froze on her lips as she watched my eyes and reached for the locking clasp on the necklace at the back of her neck. I was shocked when the necklace came away easily in her hands.

"This," She said, walking behind me and out of my view, "will definitely look better on you."

 

I saw the necklace pass in front of my face as she lowered it around my neck and snapped the lock closed. She saw the horrified look in my eyes and snickered. Her hand snaked into my pocket and fished the control out Peggy, an old girlfriend of hers came out of the bedroom, where she had obviously been hiding.

"He doesn't look so threatening now, does he, Mary,?" she said snidely, taking a seat beside Mary.

I tried to move, but couldn't. Mary and Peggy slid the dinner dished out of the way. Taking hold of my arms, they lifted me out of my seat and laid me across the dinner table on my back. My mind raced with fear. What the hell were they up to?

 

"Are you ready for your first lesson, dear?" asked Mary, holding my chin in her hand and smiling down at me, "Peggy here is going to give you a lesson in makeup, while I go slip into something more comfortable."

She saw the fear rise in my eyes again, smiled, and left the room. Mary was setting up some kind of equipment. It was a tattoo needle. Struggle as I did, I still couldn't move a muscle. I was helpless. All I could do was lay there and glare up at Peggy while she worked happily on my face. She was applying her final touches when Mary came out of the bedroom. She had taken a shower and changed. I noticed she was wearing faded blue jeans and a pink T-shirt. She must have bought them recently, because I had thrown all of her old clothes away. The only clothes that hung in her closet now were dresses, gowns, and suits. All were sexy, like a high class call girl might wear. But, what was wrong with that? I liked her dressed sexy. I liked to watch men drool over her in public. She was going to be punished for wearing such drab clothes.

 

"Wow!," gasped Mary, looking at my face, "You are good. It's perfect. Jet black brows and eyeliner, powder blue shadow, and crimson red lips. He's cute! Really cute. The sad part is, he won't have to constantly reapply his makeup throughout the day like I did. On the other hand, since it is permanent, he won't be removing it either."

They both laughed. I was so angry I almost burst. They could see it in my eyes. Peggy was an ex-biker girl, turned Temp Services tycoon, who used to work in a tattoo shop. She had just applied permanent makeup on me and I had been helpless to stop her. Permanent makeup would never come off. It was on for life. Mary got a mirror from the bathroom so I could see myself. My stomach filled with butterflies when I did. The makeup Peggy had applied was exactly how I made Mary wear hers. Slightly heavy, but not sluttish. With the makeup applied the same, I resembled her slightly. Then Peggy went one step farther with the feminine touch and tattooed a stemmed rose on my leg just above my ankle. Only wore tattoos there. She was going to pay dearly when I got free. They would both pay!

 

They left me laying on the table like a piece of meat and went into the living room to talk in private. Some time later I could feel my muscle control returning. Soon after I had enough back to stand on my own. I was boiling mad because of what they had done to me and was going to teach them both a lesson they would never forget. They looked at me, amused, when I stumbled through the living room doorway.

"I'll kill you for this!" I growled, steadying myself against the wall.

I lunged for them on the couch, but only made it half way there when my whole body coursed with pain from an intense electric shock. I let out a whimper as I fell to my knees on the floor and pulled uselessly on Mary's old choker which she had fastened around my neck. I had seen Mary in the very same position many times. Now I knew what she had gone through.

"Another outburst like that, Peggy said, smiling evilly at me, "and we'll have to punish you severely. Understood? Good. From now on, as long as you live, you will live by our rules. They are simple. They are exactly the same ones you set for Mary. And, I do mean, exactly, in every detail. Going to the police is not an option for you either. I've been filming how you treat Mary for the past week using several small hidden cameras I placed around the house. There is plenty of evidence to have you convicted on counts of false imprisonment, torture, rape, and countless other inhumanities. Oh! And before I forget, your name is now Janice. Fitting for the disgusting, little bitch you are. We will change it legally of course, but that is another matter."

As I lay on the floor recovering, her words slowly sank in. So that was it, then. They thought I would be their slave, like Mary had been mine for the past year. Well I had news for them. Sooner or later, I would get loose. Then they would pay.

 

"Now, Janice! Be a good girl and get into the bathroom and shave. We want to see a smooth body in fifteen minutes. You can have it lasered off permanently later this week, but for now, since your beard is so sparse, a close shaving will do."

I rolled to my knees and sneered at them. Who the hell did they think they were?

"Kiss my a…" I started to yell.

Mary moved from the sofa like a lioness with fire in her eyes. My vision exploded with stars from the open handed blow she laid across my face. The impact knocked me back to the floor. Her strength was fueled by anger and hate, stored up after long months of being my captive slave. She stood over me, sneaker by my face.

"You will never speak that way to either of us again." She said in an abnormally calm tone, "Now, do as you were told."

I rubbed the side of my face where she had hit me. It was sore. Slowly, I stood up and walked to the bathroom. Okay. I'd shave the hair off my body. There were worse things than that. Meanwhile I would think of a plan to get away.

 

I stepped out of the shower with my body smooth as silk. Peggy called through the door.

"Don't bother getting dressed, Janice. It is time for your next lesson."

I heard them giggling in the bedroom. What nonsense were they up to now, I wondered.

"I'm not coming out without any clothes on." I called out to them.

A short, intense, electric shock jolted me. It was a warning. The same way I used to warn Mary when she didn't conform. I resigned to my helplessness, opened the bathroom door and stood in front of them, naked. Peggy saw I was humiliated and laughed.

"This is just the beginning, dear. Soon, you'll be just like Mary used to be."

I didn't know what that was supposed to mean. She was talking in riddles like all stupid women. I snorted at her. She smiled. So did Mary. Mary went to the closet her closet, and opened the door wide.

"You liked these outfits so much," she said, reaching in and pulling out a short Leopard print, lycra dress, "we thought it only appropriate that you should have them."

She tossed it on the bed. I recognized it as one she hated to wear because, it was skin tight, and very short. It left nothing to the imagination. She had always said it made her look like a cheap Italian slut. I thought it looked great. She always turned heads when she wore it. Mary walked to the dresser and pulled a pair of black seamed stockings, lace corset, and panties. Those, she tossed in a pile on top of the dress.

"You," she continued, "liked these a lot too, if you recall. I'm sure you do. They're all I was allowed to wear. Now they are all you're allowed to wear."

I glared at them. Defiantly refusing to move a muscle.
"Janice, dear, don't make this difficult." smirked Peggy, "Get dressed!"

 

"You must be joke…" I started, but stopped immediately when Mary pointed the remote at me and pressed it's second button. I knew that was for bark training. If I uttered another sound I would get a jolt from the necklace.

She raised her eyebrows and smiled smugly. I looked at the clothes laying on the bed. Women's clothes. Her clothes. The thought of wearing was revolting. Especially the corset and stockings. My mind reeled at the thought. I wasn't gay, but, under the circumstances, it was clear I had no choice. There was nothing I could do except dress myself in Mary's things. They watched in amusement as I slipped the corset around my waist. Peggy pulled it's laces tight and tied them, when she saw I couldn't do it myself. I felt like a fool standing in front of them in it, squished like an hour glass.

"Looks great!" Mary snickered, "but not very comfortable. Is it? Especially after you've had it on for a few hours. Now lets continue with the panties and stockings. Shall we?"

They delighted in watching as I stepped into the lace panties and pulled them up. It thrilled them even more when I rolled the seamed stockings up my legs and hooked them to the corset's garters, finishing my boudoir look. They reveled in every moment of my humiliation. I mustered my courage and picked up the little dress. I made Mary wear it many times. The thought of me wearing it made me quiver. I pulled it over my head and shimmied it down over my hips. It clung to me like a second skin.

 

Mary and Peggy were satisfied. They smiled devilishly at each other. I glanced at myself in the dresser mirror. I had expected to see a man in a dress and was surprised when I didn't. I wasn't muscular and had a small frame. The corset did the rest. From the neck down, I looked fairly feminine. Flat chested, but feminine. Peggy left the room momentarily and returned with a pale blonde, curly wig which she told me to put on. I did. It completed the picture. With the makeup, wig, and clothes I look like a fairly pretty woman. I looked like Mary's sister.

"Well now," commented Mary, "don't you look nice, all fixed up like a pretty little lady. Get used to it, Janice. This is how you're going to look from now on. Everyday. From sun up to sun down. You know the rules. Hell, you wrote them. But I see you are already in violation. You know what that mean, don't you?"

A jolt coursed through my body, and again, I found myself bent over in agony. I started to cry out from the pain, but was rewarded by a second muscle straining jolt. The bark training function worked well. Peggy laughed as I looked up pleadingly. I would do anything they asked at that point. Mary walked to the closet and pulled out a pair of six inch patent pumps that I didn't recognize. They had ankle straps. She tossed them next to me on the floor. I understood. One of my rules was to never be seen without heels on. I quickly slipped them on. They were very tall. Especially for a man who had never worn anything but flat shoes all of his life. I had to stand with my knees slightly bent to relieve the strain on my calves.

"Don't worry Janice." Mary comforted sarcastically, "In a few weeks your leg muscles will stretch. It won't be so bad then."

Peggy and Mary both laughed at that. Those had been almost my exact words to her.

 

"Now," smiled Mary, "we will leave you alone for the rest of the evening to practice walking. You are to come out. Unless called for. Understood? Also, a word of caution. Under no circumstances are you to remove your wig or cloths. I want you presentable for tomorrow. We have another surprise for you. Two actually. Don't worry about going to work either. We've taken care of that. You've been… how should I say… reassigned. We'll talk about that more tomorrow."

I heard them giggle like school girls as the door closed behind them. Already my feet were starting to ache and sat down to remove them, but reconsidered when I thought what the consequences might bring. I was uncomfortable and tugged the hem of the short, tight dress down. A little movement was all it took to make it ride up. What a pain in the ass, I thought. The corset made it hard to breath. I had to stoop to pick something up off the floor. Bending over was out of the question because of the corset's steel stays. I couldn't even slouch when I was sitting. The damned thing held me upright. But then, that was what it was designed to do. As I quickly found out, a person had to sit, stand, stoop, and walk like a proper lady when wearing one. It worked well. Too well. I laid down on the bed, fully dressed, shoes and all. The smell from the perfumed wig filled my nostrils. It was morning before I knew it.

 

I was a little relieved when Mary told me to replace the corset with a bra. The corset's boning left marks on me. The bra felt much better. Immediately chastised myself for thinking a bra was comfortable. Men didn't wear bras. Peggy had gone home. She ran her own business and had to attend to it. After fixing Peggy a wonderful breakfast, like I used to have her fix for me, we left the house. Mary drove. Walking out to the car, which was parked on the street, I was paranoid that a neighbor might see me. Not that anyone would recognize me anyway. The change in my looks was dramatic. There was quite a difference between the sexy, well dressed woman I now appeared as and the well dressed businessman I used to be. My mother wouldn't have recognized me. If I drew any looks at all it would because some guy wanted to stare at my legs, which looked extremely long with the short skirt and very high heels. I was instructed not to speak and pretend like I was unable. Mary would speak for me. She left the bark training mode of my necklace turned on to insure my silence. Our first stop was at a hair salon. Mary had my hair dyed to match hers. Then the hairdresser wove matching blonde extensions into my hair and curled it. When she was done, long, curly, pale blonde, tresses framed my face and flowed down over my shoulders, just like Mary's.

 

I was confused when we arrived at our second destination. It was the plastic surgeon's office where I had Mary's implants done. I had always wanted her to have larger breasts. She delighted in telling me she had made an appointment for me to have breast enhancements done, just like hers. My mind raced with fear and dread. I made her enlarge hers from thirty four As to thirty eight Bs. I couldn't let her do that to me. I was a man. Makeup was one thing, but breasts! Only women had breasts. I'd be damned if I'd let her physically change me into a female. No way! I couldn't hide thirty eight inch breasts if I wanted to and she knew it. A feeling of desperation filled me. I opened the door to jump out when the car stopped, but didn't make it past the door step before convulsing in pain.

"Just a reminder." sneered Mary from the driver's seat, "I'm in control now and you will act like the little lady you will soon be. How far do you think you could run in that outfit anyway? Obviously you have never tried to run in a short skirt and heels. I don't blame you for trying, though. I felt the same way when you brought me here. I'm sure you remember. You like large breasts, so I'm going to give them to you. Thirty eight inch breasts are not comfortable. But why am I wasting time telling you this. In an hour or so you'll know exactly what I mean? Now get out of the car and behave like a lady!"

 

Mary instructed me before we went in. Under no circumstances was I to speak. I was to act like I was dumb. She would do all of the talking for me. The procedure took less time than the paperwork. The physician's assistant was very nice. She smiled a lot and kept eluding to how much more attention I would get from the men after I was done. It was like torture. I wanted to tell her I was, a man and was being forced to have breast implants, but considering my situation, I couldn't. It was obvious she actually thought I was a woman. At least she didn't let on otherwise. The procedure was done while I was awake. The doctor rambled on about what he was doing. As if I really cared about the technicalities. All I cared about was, after the procedure was done, I would be one step closer to no return. To being an actual girl. A female. A woman. I stared at the ceiling the whole time. Maybe, if I could find a way out of my situation down the road, I could have them removed. That was definitely possible. I'd heard of that being done. A glimmer of hope existed.

 

The following two weeks were uneventful. That is, if you can call being trained in the duties of a proper woman and being forced to live entirely as a woman everyday, uneventful. We mostly stayed home while I recovered from my operation. The soreness went away slowly. Mary had me wear snug lacy tops and delighted watching bounce when I walked. It wasn't pleasant for me. Don't ever think things can't get worse. They did. If I had been a real woman, I would have been ecstatic, but I wasn't. Mary's friend, Peggy showed up early one morning. She had visited a few days earlier and had me pose for some photos. Neither of them would tell me what for. At the time I didn't really care. I would have if I had known what they were up to. Not that I could do anything about it anyway. Mary called me into the living room, where I stood in front of them like a good house keeper should. Then they dropped the bomb on me. Peggy had gotten me a job.

 

"A job?" I asked outwardly calm, but inside, a state of panic.

"Yes, Janice, a job!" Peggy smiled like the cat that ate the mouse, "I've found the perfect job for you. A man's dream job. One where you will be surrounded by beautiful women all day. A job where you can totally immerse yourself in a woman's world. Knowing your past education and experience, I've gotten you a job as a… Are you ready for this? …a dancer! As you know, I do employment services for a number of companies. One is a casino."

Mary and Peggy looked at each other, then started laughing. I felt numb. Yeah. I had taken dance lessons for a few years in college, but this had to be a sick joke.

"A dancer?" I asked, my stomach feeling sick, "What kind of dancer?"

"You, know. A show girl. The kind that wears the skimpy, sexy, little outfits with feathered plumes, tails, and high heels. The kind you've always swooned over at the casinos! After all. This is Vegas. Beautiful show girls are a dime a dozen. You're going to be one of the lusted after, pretty ladies who prance around mostly naked all night long on a stage. Mary and I want you to actually live as a woman, not stay hidden away, where no one can appreciate you. You start training tonight! In about three hours, to be exact. That is when your first rehearsal is. Aren't you excited, girl!"

 

I was stunned into silence. A show girl. Me. A guy. Right! My mind filled with images of women I had seen on the casino stages, scantily clad in fishnets, corsets, and heavy makeup. Then I imagined me, on a stage, dressed like one of them, doing a kick line. 'No way in hell' was my last thought before I lunged over the coffee table in a foolish attempt to strangle Peggy. The both of them laughed hysterically as I rolled on the floor in pain. The damned collar turned me into a withering heap.

"Get ready, Janice. You don't want to be late on your first day" Peggy grinned down at me from the sofa.

Two hours later Peggy and I arrived at the stage door entrance to the casino. She was chaperoning me. A few words and a smile from Peggy to the bouncer at the door and he let us in. They obviously knew each other. I had butterflies in my stomach. Casinos never sleep. People rushed past us as if they were late for something. Most were wearing casino outfits of some sort. Many were women in either dancing costumes or skimpy outfits of one kind or another. I was entranced by them as they passed. To think that I was relegated to dressing and working as one of them made me quiver. I tried to envision myself dressed as one of them, but couldn't. It was degrading to think I was going to dress like that but, I had no choice. The feeling of despair hung over me like a cloud.

 

"You'll fill out some paperwork first," Peggy said over her shoulder, "then go to wardrobe for fitting. Don't worry about getting your eyes filled with the girls. You'll have plenty of time to do that, up close and personal, after you've become one of them."

The paper work consisted of signing a work contract and a few health insurance papers. Then they took my picture for a casino, photo ID. When they asked for personal identification to prove who I was, Peggy intervened and handed the clerk a driver's license and photo copied birth certificate. The clerk handed them back to Peggy, who handed them to me and smiled. I looked them over. The drivers license had my photo on it. Beneath the photo appeared the name, Janice. Sex was marked as female. It looked authentic, but was obviously a fake. The birth certificate also had the same name and showed me as a female. The bastards had changed my legal documents somehow. I was officially listed as a female. I felt like I was being slowly entombed, with no way out.

 

A middle aged seamstress in the wardrobe department measured me quickly with expertise. Even she was pretty.

"We'll have to pull you in a bit. I'd recommend losing some waist line. We'll pull you in more, a little at a time so you can get used to it. We wouldn't want you passing out on stage, now would we, honey? The bosses are quite strict about the girl's measurements. You'll be much more comfortable if you do." She said absently.

I felt her hand squeeze my butt cheek for a moment as she finished. She smiled up at me. I brushed her hand away, gently, not wanting to be outwardly rude to anyone until I figured out the score. She pulled a red and gold outfit off the rack that was covered with sequins and handed it to me. It was surprisingly heavy. The sequins were strategically placed to cover a woman's privates, but not much more. The wearer would be mostly naked. Peggy grinned devilishly. I understood the look's meaning. I was getting more of my just deserts.

"Wear this at rehearsal" the seamstress said absently, "It'll give you the feel of your working outfits, minus your head dresses and other accessories, of course. The dressing room is down the hall. Third door on the left. Rehearsal is on stage two, today. Don't be late."

 

I had my orders. Two minutes later we found the dressing room. It was a sea of girls, rushing around in various stages of undress, putting on costumes, or applying makeup at dressing tables. Many were helping each other. I could smell the estrogen in the room. I was scared and excited at the same time. My mind kept reminding me I was a guy and this was a girl's locker room. I shouldn't be there.

"You one of the new girls?" an older lady asked, "Yeah, I can tell by the glazed eyes look. Grab a vacant locker honey, and get a move on. They aren't happy when you're late."

I smiled at her and wound my way through the crowded room to an empty locker in the back. Getting naked in front of all of the women made me nervous. The Gaff I was wearing gave me a flat crotch like the other women in the room and I was thankful that I actually had real breasts, like all of the ladies crowding close to me. Mary and Peggy had really fixed me.

 

I stripped off my street clothes, which Peggy promptly picked up, put in a locker. Then she released me from my choker, placing them in the locker also. She closed and locked it.

"You won't be going anywhere without any street clothes." She said, smiling as she walked away.

Great! No shock necklace, but no clothes either. There went my chance to escape. I looked at the skimpy outfit and dance shoes dangling in my hand. With no other option, I unzipped it down the back and stepped into it. It was tight. Very tight. I couldn't get it zipped. Another girl saw me struggling and spun me around to pull the zipper up for me. I felt the air go out of me when she did. The steel boning and dramatic contour of the outfit squeezed me like a vise. It took a moment to catch my breath and thank her. I attempted to bend over to put the four inch heeled, sequined sandals on, but found I couldn't. The costume wouldn't let me bend at the waist. Finally I dropped the sandals to the floor, as I watched other girls do, then slid my feet into them. I buckled them while standing by propping my foot up on a bench. It was difficult, but it worked.

 

The dressing room manager came up behind me again.

"Hurry up honey!" she coaxed, then called to a redhead across the room at a table, "Sue! Be a dear and help the new girl… Janice, here, with her makeup. Beth called in sick and Janice will have to replace her."

Replace her? Replace who, I wondered. She pushed me in Sue's direction

"Don't worry, honey. Sue will help you. Just follow her on stage and do what she does." She said quickly and disappeared again. Now I was scared. They expected me to dance tonight! The hustle and bustle of the dressing room was winding to a frenzy. I hurried across the room and slid into the seat next to Sue.

"Take that off" she snapped, sliding a jar of makeup remover over to me.

"I can't."

"Sure you can, honey. Just do it."

"No, I can't." I repeated, then leaned closer and added, "It's permanent."

She stopped for a moment to consider, then went back to her own makeup.

"Then paint over it. Sparkling, silver eye shadow and red lips today. Don't forget to put these on first." She said, pushing a pair of extra long, blue metallic, theatrical eyelashes towards me. Sue saw I didn't know what to do.

"Okay! Okay! For God's sake. I'll show you how. Hair! Over here!"

She quickly attached the lashes to my upper lids with surgical glue, brushed on sparkling silver eye shadow, thickly, lined my eye lashes and brows with dark black pencil, and painted my lips red. A woman came up behind me with a big silver haired wig with a Tierra and blue Plume attached, and started pinning it to my head. She pinned it so tightly it hurt. I yelped, but she insisted it had to be tight or it would fall off.

 

"You do know how to apply blush, don't you?" Sue asked impatiently.

I nodded and started brushing blusher on my cheek bones and neck.

"Remember, put it on heavy. You're going on stage, not on a date. The bright lights will wash you out if you don't. Stand up!"

I did. The woman who did my hair attached a long tress of feathers around my waist and cinched it up tight. I caught sight of myself in a mirror across the room I looked like a colorful Peacock. Then I realized, I looked exactly like a dozen other girls getting ready for the show. We looked exactly alike. Exactly. If I hadn't known which one I was, I never could have guessed.

"Okay, girls! Let's go! Two minutes! Two minutes! Don't forget your gloves!" yelled the dressing room manager.

All of the girls dressed like me started filing out of the room. I was handed a pair of blue, elbow length gloves and told to put them on. I did, like the other girls.

"Follow me." She said, quickly leaving the dressing room with me close behind, "I'll give you your cues. Just do as I do. This is a simple parade type number. No special dance steps are required."

All the girls took positions on the stage behind a huge curtain. I stood and posed like the rest. We surrounded a woman wearing a similar, but all white, outfit and a man in a black tux. They were the spotlighted performers. We were just background to make the stage look pretty.

 

The curtain went up and my heart jumped into my throat. There were hundreds of people in the audience and there I stood, naked. Well, maybe not naked, but I may as well have been. Music started and the girls moved quickly around the stage. I had to run to keep up. A few times my heels slipped on the polished floor, but I didn't fall. I followed Sue the best I could. It seemed like an eternity. Sweat poured down my temples and back. By the time the number was over I was soaked, my legs ached, and I was out of breath.

"Come on, Janice." Sue said impatiently, dragging me back to the dressing room, "We've got two more numbers."

Changing outfits, redoing makeup, and running back out onto the stage and trying to follow the routine became a blur. By the time we were finished with the third number I was exhausted and limping back to the dressing room in the four inch heels. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. Everyone else went ahead. I was alone. The outfit I was wearing belonged to Beth, the girl that called in sick. Wardrobe didn't have an extra outfit that fit me for the last number so they gave me Beth's. Her shoes were a size too small. Fortunately they were sandals, otherwise I would have never fit into them. She was slightly smaller than I but the outfit was nothing more than a black sequined bra and panty set with strings of black beads dangling from the panty that formed the skirt. All of the outfits incorporated some form of wig and head piece. This outfit incorporated a long, black, pageboy wig and rhinestone hair net.

 

I sat at my table in the dressing room, removing my makeup. The permanent makeup remained. Perfectly. I guess that is why it is called permanent. It is. My legs and feet ached. The high heel shoes had raised blisters on my feet. Tears swelled in my eyes as I sat there mostly naked in the costume from the last number. Other girls crowded around behind me hurrying to get ready for their shows. They were heavily made up and mostly naked also. We all looked the same in that respect. I started to sob. No one noticed. Mary's revenge was crueler than anything I had ever done to her. Not only was I forced to live as the opposite sex, but I was a lowly show girl. To a girl it would be considered glamorous. To me, a man, it was the worst humiliation. I appeared to be a woman and had to act like one. Everyone believed I was one. Now I had to work as one to boot, wearing outfits only a woman would have the nerve to wear. I couldn't go back to being a man. The breasts and permanent makeup made that obvious. I was trapped, with no way out. Why wouldn't I want to be a beautiful Vegas show girl? Why not? Because I was a man.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Jean M. Chambers. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.