"Go out?"

"Yes! What fun is it to be a girl if you're stuck in some hotel room? Live a little! We're going out dancing at the clubs. We'll pick up some guys and..."

"Wait! I thought you didn't like humiliation!" he protested.

"I'm not going to force you to have sex with them or anything" I said. "That is, unless you want to. Is that it Polly? Do you want to be with a man? I can help arrange that."

"No!" he said.

"Your lips say no, but that swelling between your legs says otherwise."

"That's just because I'm looking at you!" he said.

"We'll see. If you're a good girl, and you obey without protesting, then I won't make you dance with a guy. It will just be a girl's night out. How's that?"

He just looked at me, helpless. He was real pathetic, this one. He protested, but I had known enough of his type to know what he really wanted. The more the protested, the closer to the truth I had come.

I called down to the front desk, and had the bell hop bring up a suitcase I had left down there. It had everything I needed to turn Peter into Polly. First, I made him shower and shave his legs, along with his chest and armpits.

"Do I really have to shave my chest and armpits?" he said.

"Yes" I replied. "Otherwise, the glue we're going to use for your fake boobs will stick to your hair, and they will be very painful to remove. And you can't go around with a hairy chest and arms when you're wearing an outfit like I'm going to put you into."

He showered, and returned to me naked, just as I asked. While he was gone, I changed into something more appropriate for clubbing it. I made him put on a bra and panties. It was obvious from the way he closed the clasps in the back, that this was not the first time he had tried it. So much for his fake protests.

I put in his fake boobs next, with a couple of drops of glue on each one to help hold them in place. They were heavy, and I could tell that he was surprised by the feeling of weight in his bra. He must have used something lighter to stuff it normally.

I had him put on control top pantyhose, then a slip. Next I gave him a black knee length skirt. I zipped it closed in back, then handed him his top. It left a little of a bare skin below his belly button, which I assured him was all the rage in the fashion world.

"This top doesn't cover up very much of me. You can see my breasts." he said.

"That's the idea. Men dress up and cover themselves all up. But when you're a woman, dressing up means showing off as much as possible. You've got big tits, then you had better show them off.

Next was the wig, makeup, long press-on nails, nail polish, jewelry, and perfume. And the last touch was a pair of pumps. He was passable as a woman. Peter looked at himself in the mirror, and was obviously reeling from the sight. Either he was realizing a lifelong dream that he was afraid to admit, even to himself, or he was scared out of his mind, being forced into his worse nightmare.

I took it easy on him, going out to dinner first (I made him put all the contents of his wallet into a little purse with a long strap, which I made him carry). Then we went into a few clothing stores.

"What do you think of this Polly?" I would ask, showing him an outfit. After going through quite a few, I found the perfect one for him, and made him buy it. Then on to several shoe stores, were we each got a couple of pairs.

Back at his hotel room, I took lots of photos of him, all dolled up. And I made him tell me over and over that he was a girl. I think that he was starting to loosen up a bit, and become a little less uncomfortable about wearing a dress.

I made him do all sorts of 'girly' things, making him walk, talk, sit, stand, and act like a girl. When I was satisfied that he was pretty much broken, I told him that I was going to my room for the night.

"I'll be by at 9am tomorrow morning. Make sure you're wearing that new outfit you bought today, and have your makeup on. I suspect that you know how to apply it already. And apply this tonight to your breast area."

I handed him a tube of breast cream. I didn't think the stuff worked, but it was more to freak him out than anything.

I left him, and I checked into a hotel nearby, and spent the night reading a novel, then watching HBO before going to bed. I wondered what he would be doing.

The last thing I did was to upload the pictures from my digital camera to my laptop, and send them to my server at home. I would keep them safe, just in case.

* * *

The next day, 'Polly' was ready and waiting when I arrived. We ate breakfast together, then spent hours and hours shopping. We went to the art institute next, and Polly started to complain that 'her' feet were really hurting.

"You had better get used to it. That's how it is when you wear women's shoes. But in time, your feet will adjust."

"What do you mean 'in time'?"

"Well, you've only been wearing them for one day. But after months and months of wearing them every day, your feet will adjust."

"Why would I wear them every day?" he said.

"Because after this weekend, I don't think that you'll ever go back to being a man. You're going to like being a woman so much, that you'll wish that you really were one of us."

"No!" he said.

"I think you do all ready. In fact, I bet that you're really hoping that I arrange that date with a man tonight. Don't you Polly. Don't you want to date a man."

"No! Please!"

"All right. We'll see. When you see a cute guy tonight, don't blame me if you are interested in him."

"Never" he said.

I just smiled. I knew better.

We went shopping again, and I thought how scary it was that 'Polly' could use a credit card with the name 'Peter' on it, and not get asked by anyone about it! So much for security. I hope I never loose my purse!

I made him buy bras, lingerie, skirts, makeup, accessories, and lots of other fun stuff. A girl can never get too much shopping in. At least now when the bill is going on someone else's credit card!

After we hauled it all back to Polly's room, we went out to lunch. Then we went to dinner, followed by a Broadway style show. Finally, I took Polly to a bar I found in 'The Reader', which was focused on an 'alternative' clientele.

You see, in my experience in my particular field, I found that many men who are like Peter had something inside of, that they were afraid to let out. They were afraid to admit even to themselves how they truly felt. I was going to give him an opportunity to discover for himself what he really felt.

Some men liked to dress up as women, but still felt attracted only to women. I loved this type, because they tend to worship women, place us on a pedestal, and do anything they can to please us. But from what I had seen, I doubted that Peter was one of these.

Some men like to dress up as a woman, as an excuse to be attracted to other men. That is what I thought he was. I liked this type too, because once they let themselves be who they were, they were more like women than men. With this type, you could be naked in front of them, and they would look at you the way one woman sees another woman. No sexual threat included.

There were of course others who didn't fit into any category, or those who felt like women trapped in men's bodies, and needed surgeries to free them. But I really doubted that he was that type. But this was our chance to find out.

We walked in the bar, and Polly seemed shocked to see women holding hands with other women, men with men, men in dresses (not looking nearly as pretty and feminine as I had Polly made up), and more.

"I brought you here," I said, "because this is a place where you can just be who you are. Nobody will be judgmental of you. You can relax, and just do whatever you want."

All the tables were full, so I walked us over to one where two 'girls' who were obviously men were sitting.

"Do you ladies mind if we join you?" I asked sweetly.

"Of course not sugar. Come on, take a load off!" she said.

We sat down and ordered drinks. Polly seemed very nervous and edgy.

"Your first time here sweetheart?" asked the 'girl' named Lizzie.

"Yes" said Polly.

"Well don't worry honey. You are welcome here. Nobody is going hassle you in here, or give you a hard time. Relax! Enjoy yourself!"

Polly still looked stiff to me, even after she guzzled her drink.

"I know, why don't we go have a dance?" I suggested.

Lizzie and her friend seemed eager, so I dragged Polly out onto the dance floor with us. We danced to the song, and as often happens in any bar, once a few people hit the dance floor, more and more start to join in. Soon, there were dozens of people out dancing.

And that's when they started hitting on Polly.

Now I had done a very good job of making her look as much like a girl as possible, but there was no way to hide certain things like the shape of the face, the lack of real curves, the size of the shoulders, and other male characteristics. So naturally, those who are attracted to a man in a dress picked Polly out as a guy right away. And they started to offer to buy 'her' drinks, asked to dance, and more.

"You're very popular honey" said Lizzie. "I wish they'd all hit on me like that!"

Her friend elbowed her.

"If you were a sweet little thing like her, maybe they would!"

We danced, drank, talked, laughed, and had a good time. 'Polly' loosened up after a while, and really got into it. The real test was at the end, to see what 'she' would do when it was time to go.

I smiled as she exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses with Lizzie. I had her pegged right. And I had done my job: I had created the environment where should could express her feminine side, and find out what she really was.

* * *

So in the end, everybody was happy. I turned someone who hated people who were into cross dressing (another other things) into one of them himself, and had opened a new door for him.

And he would now pay for my services, so I had another customer to boot! Now if I could only find the time to learn how to type better...

小说相关章节：【AI翻译】Jennifer White的性转小说