Chapter III: The Budding BabettePriscilla Gay Bouffant
I could barely wait for the long school year to be over. I was only taking three classes in the morning. That was all I needed to graduate. I was working after school in a secretarial capacity at the family décor business with mother and aunt Delia.
I had used my afternoon job, at the family business, as an excuse to not try out for the baseball team. My weekends and holidays from school were spent as Babette. Plus, any long afternoons or evenings where I didn’t work for mother and auntie, I would doll up casually and help prepare dinner.
Every stich of my “borrowed” wardrobe, along with a considerable amount of my male clothing had been boxed and taken to charity or consignment. The plan was an extended shopping trip and a full beauty makeover as soon as the school year was over.
In the meantime, the ladies of our increasingly feminine household picked up different clothing items for me, along with makeup, whenever they went shopping. My cousin Laura was in her senior year of college. My sister Anna was now a junior. When they came home for the holiday season I knew what to expect.
There wasn’t a single present under the Christmas tree for “Bobby”. Every gift I received from my cousin and sister was for Babette. I got dolled up Christmas morning. In fact, I spent the entire holiday season, including dinner a couple of evenings out, dreamily dressed as Babette.
Christmas, I came downstairs from my room wearing a plaid jumper, with a heavily ruffled white blouse. My hair had just been trimmed to just off my shoulders. I’d spent the evening sleeping in large plastic rollers. I’d teased my hair up into a cute bubble flip. I spent a lot of time on my makeup.
I’d especially wanted to try out a tube of hot pink Guerlain lipstick my sister had given me as an early holiday gift. Along with everything else I wore that was truly girly, I’d put on a pair of three-inch, block-heeled peep toe Mary Janes.
By the time I’d opened everything Anna and Laura gave me I knew my closets would be dripping with filmy lingerie, dresses, skirts and blouses. My dressers would be full of panties and sexy sleepwear. My shoe rack was just loaded with all fashionable and delightful heels. It appeared though, that mother and Aunt Delia had other, very interesting plans for me.
When I opened the gifts which mother and Delia had purchased for me, as Babette, I noticed they were very fashionable blazer and slack sets, with blousy tops and matching shorts as well as skirts. Certainly, chic, flirty and trendy, but not in keeping with the frilly, girly-girl theme of Anna and Laura’s gifts. I held them up against me smiling and looked at mother questioningly.
“Delia and I want you to begin coming to work, in some transitionary, androgyne attire honey. Currently you’re in the office in your jeans, slacks and shirts you wear to school. Nice long hair, but regular guy stuff. You have the time to come here to the house, have lunch and change,” mother smiled.
“What we’d like to see you do, is come into the office with more of a unisex, androgynous look. We’ll work with you to show you the look we are after. None of the girls that work for us will say a thing. They think the world of you and believe you’re such a sweet boy. We’ll talk about it before the end of the holiday season, Babette,” mother added.
A couple of days after Christmas we all got dressed to the nines in our new Christmas gift attire and drove across town to a quiet restaurant for dinner. A group of five females, all good looking, and none over forty-five years of age, will attract a lot of attention.
Put these same ladies in sophisticated, high-fashion updo hairstyles, evening makeup and spiked heels and then the attention from men is trebled. This was the first time I wore four-inch heels and an upswept hairstyle. My lips were highlighted in a delicious, wine red.
Mother and Delia wouldn’t allow Anna and I to drink alcohol outside the home. Laura was the only person besides mother and Delia who was twenty-one, or over. That sort of worked to our advantage, that evening. I was trimming my rainbow trout, when Anna giggled.
“Mother look. There’s a table of four males looking over at us. They’re not bad looking. The youngest one can’t keep his eyes off of Babette. I told you Babette. You are going to become a real guy magnet. Oops, a guy maybe your age, or Aunt Delia’s is coming our way, mother,” Anna laughed.
The man was nice looking. Slightly graying at the temples. The cute young guy who couldn’t stop staring at me was with him. He was very likely closer to Laura’s age. The handsome dude with the silver temples did the talking.
He introduced himself and said they were all in town for some college football bowl game. They planned on going “clubbing” later on and wondered if we wanted to join them. Mom smiled and handled it well.
“Well we’re all together and night-clubbing for these two would be out of the question. They are under the legal drinking age and wouldn’t even be able to get in the club. And if they did, and something untoward did happen, I would be in a lot of trouble as they are both my daughters,” mom smiled.
“Thank you for inviting us, however this isn’t the best time, is it girls?” Mother asked. The cute young guy just couldn’t take his eyes off of me, and finally came over to my side of the table.
“I can’t believe you are not twenty-one cutie? I would have taken you to be out of college already,” he winked.
I’ll admit he was cute. At this stage of my life, though, I was still interested in females. Of course, there weren’t too many girls my age that were looking for a boyfriend that wore more makeup than they did. I winked back and smiled. Before I could say anything, Anna spoke for me.
“Well she’s only eighteen and dating a guy who is at San Diego State. Right now, she isn’t interested in seeing anyone else,” Anna said, as he nodded, smiled and walked away. Wow! The first guy who had actually flirted with me.
It was just a day or two later, when mother and Delia had a discussion with me about the new role they wanted me to play at their offices.
“Sit down Babette while we explain to you about a sensible transitionary period as well as wardrobe, between Bobby and Babette. It would be prudent for you to go thru an androgyne or ‘sissy’ stage before you really come out fully as Babette. You would be more like Bobbie, spelled with an I and an E at the end of your name instead of a Y,” mother explained.
“Those suit sets we purchased for you are the perfect type of attire for that sort of look. There are other items we might also purchase, such as Capri slacks, rompers and kilts or kilties. Something that will make you look cute and very fey, without you looking overtly girlish just yet. A very female friendly workplace such as our design business office, is the perfect atmosphere for this sort of transition,” mother continued.
“After a couple of weeks in some flared ladies’ slacks, with a camisole top and a matching blazer, you can increase the effeminacy of your appearance with a little mascara around the eyes, light blush on your cheeks and some waxy white gloss on your lips. Don’t worry princess we’ll work with you daily on your new look,” Delia added.
As always, I could depend on mother and her sister Delia, to be correct. The very first time I showed up at work wearing a camisole top, with a matching slacks and blazer combo, I got nothing but compliments from the designers and sales ladies.
I even wore a pair of ladies’ shoes with a one-inch wedge heel and a decorative buckle, along with panties and pantyhose underneath. When I did start wearing a little bit of eye makeup with glossy white lipstick, I got nothing but smiles and hugs.
At that point my name tag on my blazer and the nameplate on my desk, went from “Bobby” to “Bobbie”. I skipped the senior prom that year and didn’t stay for any post-graduation parties. I’d gotten out of circulation with my half day schedule at school.
I was on pins and needles and rapt with anticipation, for my upcoming shopping trip to Elaine’s Boutique along with my very first, full-fledged, girly, salon makeover. Mother and Delia had these events planed for consecutive Saturdays in mid-June.
Elaine’s would be the first exciting, “shop ‘til you drop”, outing of boutique apparel shopping I’d ever took part in. Anna and Laura slept in that morning, so it was Mother, Delia and me. They insisted I wear Capri slacks, a crop top, padded brassiere, opaque turned down anklet socks and two-inch kitten heels to Elaine’s.
Aunt Delia put my hair in a French braid that morning and I put on full, but not really heavy cosmetics. As I sashayed into Elaine’s holding mother’s hand, I could have swooned. Everywhere I looked were just the most lovely, feminine clothing I could have imagined. Interspersed among the really feminine stuff were the unisex and androgynous apparel.
I had then and still own, enough androgyne apparel to last for a lifetime. Today it serves as casual, “mannishly cut,” ladies wear. Elaine was another contact mother had made thru her GYN, Eva San Moritz. Eva had also recommended my therapist, Gayle Broderick, as well as the hairdresser I’d be seeing in a week, Gladys Millstone.
Apparently, Eva had numerous transgender clients and wanted all of them to be in a very supportive environment, with numerous strong, very caring females surrounding them. The full name of Elaine’s shop was “Elaine’s Unisex, Androgyne and Ladies’ Apparel Boutique”. But everyone simply called it “Elaine’s”.
Elaine’s staff was perfectly comfortable with a girl like me. I was taken to a dressing room, where I was fitted for my first, very own, waist-cinching, corselet. As Katherine, the shop assistant snugged in my waist, I felt my penis growing in my panty brief. Katherine noted it and responded with saying, “Hmm?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think this would happen. And if it did, I thought the brief would contain it?” I blushed.
“First of all, don’t fret over this, Babette. In this dress shop, this is something I’ve gotten used to. Seriously, if you’re going to be a girl full-time you need a gaff or chastity cage to control frequent erections. Especially if you’re not on hormones or T-blockers,” Katherine explained.
“Panty briefs can be ineffective, as you can see. Wait here just a moment. I need to speak to both your mother and Elaine about this. They will likely prefer I put you in a gaff, though putting a sissy boy in a chastity cage is much more favorable to me,” said Katherine as she strode haughtily from the dressing room.
Katherine returned with an item that resembled a thong but was a bit more substantial in size and volume. She also held a bottle of massage oil in her other hand. Just briefly, there was another young lady with her. That young lady sat a bowl of warm water with a washcloth in it, on a dressing room shelf and left the room.
Katherine closed the dressing room door, locked it, latched it, and drew a curtain across the doorway. She instructed me to remove my panty brief and stand on the dressing room bench.
When I hesitated, she said, “This is not the time or the place to suddenly be modest Babette. Now do as just instructed you to do. That’s a good sissy. Now let’s see that erection,” she said as she took hold of my penis with her right hand.
She’d just poured massage oil onto her hand and when she gripped the shaft of my cock, I whooshed, letting out a rush of breath.
“Easy, my girly. I’m just going to jerk you off here. I do this a few times a month. We all do. Mostly, when we assist brand new sissies like you, that haven’t been put in a gaff or chastity cage yet. My gosh I adore chastity cages. They should put all boys into chastity cages until they learn to respect the members of the superior female sex,” Katherine opined.
“In reality, a demure sissy boy like you, is scarcely any sort of realistic threat, to an assertive, confident female like me. Now when you finally begin to spew, I’m going to grab that warm washcloth and encircle your cock. I don’t want your messy sperm all over the floor or me,” Katherine frowned.
She was really very workmanlike in her efficiency. To her, masturbating a boy, who was dressed as a girl, was just another part of her workday duties. She looked up at me with a wink and a smile.
“Are we getting close honey? We are, aren’t we? Don’t worry. Katherine can tell. Okay, let me take hold of this warm washrag. And, for goodness sakes, Babette. When you lose all control, grip one or both of those grab bars attached to the wall. Yes, right there. Behind you. Good girl. I don’t want you falling off the bench onto the floor,” she ordered.
“Oops. Here we go. Somebody is bubbling up here. Whoo-wee! Someone isn’t on any T-blockers, are we, honey? Whoa, girl! Lots and lots of sperm!” Katherine said, almost enthusiastically.
She was correct. I almost passed out and could have fallen, from the amazing rush my orgasm gave me. When it was all over, she kept me standing while she put my penis inside what she called a “petticoat”. It was a cloth, tube-like appendage, that dangled from the gaff panty. Once my penis was snugly inside it, she pulled the tube back underneath me and attached the end to the belt of the gaff panty.
Then she slipped my panty-brief back on me and said, smiling, “Now, if you get any sort of hardon, no one but you will know. It won’t be a comfortable feeling either. It will teach you to try and keep from getting spontaneous erections in boutiques and beauty salons.”
Later I was fitted for quite an assortment of skirts, blouses, dresses and even a few gowns. When Elaine came in to take my faux-bosom measurement, she explained to mother and Delia, of a recently successful method, for naturally enhancing my breasts and hips.
“It’s actually a revived, ancient remedy using herbal packs and teas. Ask Eva about Doctor Amanda Liu. She’d would probably have given you her name soon enough if I hadn’t mentioned her. It’s much safer than hormones or implants. There are a few girls that are customers here that have gotten fantastic results from Amanda’s treatments,” Elaine smiled.
On the way back to the house mother asked how I liked the gaff.
“It’s slightly uncomfortable but I think I’ll get used to it,” I replied.
“That’s good, Babette dear. Now wear it frequently. Especially outside our home. I expect you to wear it to the salon next Saturday, also,” she smiled.
Indeed, I did wear my gaff to “Delightfully Ambrosia,” Gladys Millstone’s deluxe beauty salon and spa. Only mother went along with me to the beauty parlor. It was the sort of mother/daughter thing we needed to experience together, by ourselves.
I wore a suspender mini-skirt, with an elbow sleeve ruffled blouse, sheer hose and sling back, pointed toe, kitten heel pumps. For “extra-protection” I wore a panty brief over my gaff.
Anna and Delia were at a client’s home overseeing a remodel. Laura was out with a friend from college who was visiting in the area. Mother hadn’t planned on any beauty services but wanted to be there to support me.
Walking into Glady’s salon gave me an exciting sense of belonging that I’d never, ever experienced before. They had this very serene music playing that infused me with an amazingly relaxed sensitivity. I loved the sights of attractive females in all phases of beautification.
Some ladies were chatting, enjoying a light lunch or refreshments as their wet sets dried or their hair coloring was taking. The mixture of the various scents of lotions, perfumes, hair dyes and powders were simply just so very girlishly intoxicating.
Mother and I were seated in the waiting room when we heard a lilting, dulcet, feminine voice asking, “Deidre and Babette Chambers? This way ladies. My name is Constance. I’m one of the assistant managers. I’ll be taking you to Ms. Gladys Millstone’s private office. She insists on giving very personalized attention to all her private clients,” explained Constance.
“Especially her first-time visitors. So, ladies, if you will just follow me? Here we are,” said Constance as she knocked. A voice from behind the door told us to enter. We followed behind Constance. She stopped and dipped into a curtsey before speaking.
“Ms. Gladys. Here are Babette Chambers and her mother Deidre. I’ll leave them with you,” said Constance as she again curtseyed, turned and promptly left the room.
“I’m so pleased to meet both of you, Deidre. And you Babette. You are both so lovely,” smiled Gladys as she daintily shook our hands in a ladylike fashion.
“Someone has done a fantastic job transforming this lovely young lady. Congratulations are in order for both of you,” Gladys said.
“Now, Eva has told me so much about both of you. Babette, I intend to ensure that, your first salon pampering is something you’ll never want to forget. Deidre, I know you didn’t make an appointment for yourself. But, I did set aside some time for you to have a shampoo, trim, styling and French Manicure on the house,” Gladys said generously.
“Of course, Babette, you are getting a wash, cut, coloring, stylization and French manicure with red polish and white tips. I might put some small hot rollers in also,” Gladys explained.
We were both very impressed with Gladys’ hospitality. And mother certainly expressed her thanks. “Gladys I cannot thank you enough for your graciousness. I am just so impressed by it,” mother smiled.
“You’re so very welcome, Deidre. I’m quite fortunate. The salon does quite well, by itself. But I’ve just come upon not one but two infusions of cash. My first husband’s attorneys finally settled on our divorce. I was awarded a large sum from him,” she laughed.
“Then, I remarried such a very obedient, lovely, sweet man. He owned a salon, which he sold. He reinvested with me and is a junior partner in this salon. He even brought into the marriage an adorable step-son, Nikki, who works here. In fact, Nikki be doing your shampoos,” Gladys stated.
“Deidre has Eva or anyone else ever filled you in on our businesswomen’s association? The Cassandra Sisterhood? I hope you and your sister, Delia will consider joining? I can guarantee you’ll benefit greatly from your membership,” Gladys nodded.
“Yes, both my sister and I intend to be at the next monthly meeting Gladys. It sounds very promising,” mother replied.
“Excellent. Then, in that case, why don’t I give you this very nice, well-done, packet of information on a wonderful academy, sponsored by the Sisterhood. It’s a delightful establishment for special young ladies such as your daughter Babette,” Gladys intoned.
“It’s in a very private location. The atmosphere is such, that a special girl such as Babette, is allowed the real privacy and freedom she needs to find herself and her niche in our growing, female run society. It’s called the Winthrop institute. Very near to Mendocino,” Gladys said informatively.
“Yes, I’ll need to look at this. If there is a school where Babette’s newfound femininity might flourish, I’m very interested,” mother smiled.
“Now then, let me contact Constance. She’ll be doing your hair and nails, Deidre. I’ll also have her get my sweet, now stepson, Nikki in here to escort you both to his shampoo station,” Gladys added, picking up the phone.
Yes, as Gladys had said, Nikki was indeed “sweet”. He was a living doll. He went so far as to curtsey to his stepmother, Gladys and call her “Mummy.” He was dressed in a romper, anklets and Mary Janes. His strawberry blonde hair was done in the most adorable, chin-length spiral perm.
His carriage was beyond delightfully dainty. He was so soft spoken, I could barely hear him talk as he shampooed my hair. Nikki practically lisped. He left the hot oil conditioner in and escorted me to his step-mother, so she could begin my cut, coloring and stylization.
Mother and I had chosen a medium auburn shade for my hair color, along with a long, inverted bob for my hairstyle. Gladys was a fastidious hairstylist. Her manicurist Bethany was just as meticulous. Gladys would rinse the hot oil condition from my hair as soon as she completed my sexy bob cut.
This salon trip, for me was as girly as it got so far. I watched my “lob” taking shape in the mirror, as Gladys chatted with both me and Bethany who was working on my French Manicure. I loved the “Burgundy Rouge” shade of Guerlain lipstick my cousin Laura had presented to me at Christmas.
Bethany was going to match the identical color to my nails, before painting the tips a “Frost White.” She was attaching the extenders, and my fingers and hands were already looking so fabulous. With the extenders on, and my “lob” complete, Gladys took me to a sink where she rinsed out the hot oil.
Then she took the color she had mixed and used an applicator bottle of high lift dye to color my hair. While the color was taking Bethany completed my French manicure. I was feeling really, really sexy right about now and I could feel it between my legs.
Katherine from the dress shop was correct. When my penis was snugged into my new gaff, if was discomforting when it became erect. After another rinse, Gladys combed out my still very wet “lob” just to show me how it was shaped.
Then she put some small plastic curlers in the very ends of my tresses before she began my blow dry. Using hair spray, removing the curlers and finally with a hot comb, she finished off my stylization. She let me do my own makeup from the salon’s products. Though I used my Guerlain Burgundy to shade my lips.
While I was fussily painting my lips, Gladys was watching me closely. She winked at me. “Babette is such a very sexy name for a very sexy girl. Have you chosen a middle name yet? If not, I think you should consider something just as sexy and French. Something along the lines of Cheree. Cheree with a C and a double E at the end,” Gladys proposed.
I carefully checked my lips and playfully touched the lightly curled ends of my long bob. “Do you think so, Ms. Gladys? Because I love it. Yes, Cheree is so flirty. I adore the sound. Babette Cheree. Yes, I’m going to use that. Thank you, Ms. Gladys. It makes such a lovely name,” I said, pursing my lips.
Mother was at the cashier paying when I minced toward her with Gladys holding my hand. My mother smiled brightly.
“Isn’t your daughter looking just sensational Deidre?” Gladys asked.
“Yes, Gladys. She is no less than stunning,” mother replied.
“I want both of you to have a lovely, rest of the day, together. I hope mother and daughter will look thru the Winthrop Institute catalog together. I believe you’ll soon consider it as a place where Babette can bond with girls like herself, and her femininity will flourish and grow,” Gladys encouraged.
When we arrived home and were inside the house, mother insisted on posing me in front of the large, full-length mirror in my boudoir. She stood behind me, her hands resting on my hips. Her chin rested gently on my left shoulder. Her cheek was gently nuzzled against mine.
“Just look at you, my pretty girl. Goodness, you look so sensational Babette. When I see you today I can’t help but think you should have never been a boy, honey,” mother sighed.
“Yes, I know, and I never, ever want to be a boy again, mummy. I like this too much. Today, I just adored being in that wonderful beauty parlor. I simply knew that I just really did belong there. I loved and embraced every moment. Being surrounded by those ladies so lovingly pampering me. I never wanted to leave,” I sighed.
“That’s because you love being a princess, Babette. You know what we have to do darling? And we are definitely going to pursue it. Don’t you, baby? We are contacting that herbal doctor and getting you started on treatments to grow your bosom and to enlarge your hips,” my mother added, affirmatively.
“Yes mummy. I want that also. Yes, I want to have pretty breasts just like you mummy.” I said, turning and throwing my arms around her, squeezing her tightly.
“Yes, my princess. You can have breasts just like mummy. Mummy will always take care of her pretty girl. You’ve had a big day today, baby. Why not put on a nice hairnet and take a nap. Mummy will come up later and wake her girl for dinner. You shouldn’t eat lunch after all this excitement. It could upset your tummy,” mother cooed.
“Tonight, why don’t we sit up in my bed and look over that catalog and think about you attending that school near Mendocino? That will be fun. Just mummy and her little girl?” Mother said.
“Yes, mummy. That will be a lot of fun,” I giggled as my mother exited my boudoir.
I turned back to the full-length mirror. I felt like Alice, peering into the looking glass, readying herself to step into Wonderland. I ran my delicately French manicured fingers down the delightfully curled ends of my long, auburn shaded bob. I puckered my wet, burgundy glossed lips.
My penis tried to stiffen within its constraints. I didn’t particularly enjoy the feeling of confinement, it gave me. I kicked off my kitten heels and sat on my bed. I removed both my brief and gaff.
My cock could now breathe, and it sprang to life, as I tiptoed towards the mirror and this apparition of my beautiful, feminized self. I stared longingly at my newfound feminine beauty. I cherished what I was seeing. I removed the tube of Guerlain Burgundy from my purse, and carefully touched up my lips, simply to be doing it.
How I loved putting on lipstick! How I craved the feeling of that creamy, perfumed, liquid paste, moving across my soft lips and making my mouth so wet and shimmery. Setting down my Guerlain tube, I poured some moisturizer into my right hand.
I then reached for my penis. My moisturized fingers encircled my hardened cock. With my left hand, I fluffed my new auburn “do” as I pranced and preened, blowing air kisses at my gorgeous reflection. I simply adored what I saw in the mirror and I was giddy with my girlishness.
With my left wrist hanging delightfully limp, I stroked my cock with my freshly moisturized fingers. I closed my eyes and inhaled the wonderous scent of my perfumed body. So enchanting! My senses heightened, and I only needed to picture myself being primped and pampered at the beauty salon.
I exploded! My sperm gushed forth in a frothy geyser from my penis. It splattered on the mirror as I tittered in girlish delight. I couldn’t constrain my sensations any longer, I was just so jubilant. I dropped to my knees in a dizzying collapse.
I panted, finally regaining my breath. I stared into the looking glass with a wan smile on my lips. I thought momentarily of finding a hanky to wipe my sticky semen from the mirror. Then the devilish idea of licking my very own spunk off the glass surface overtook me!
I inched forward on my knees with my lips puckered. I pressed my mouth against the mirror and extended my tongue. I began licking the salty mess. I lapped it up as if it were spilled cream and I were a kitten. The very last vestiges I wiped with a clean hanky.
I put on a fresh pair of panties. I tucked my new “do” underneath a hairnet. One more time I performed the arousing task of painting my luscious lips. Then I laid down to enjoy a sweet, afternoon nap.
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