Stephanie's Scheme part 3
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The wedding was in threee days time. Other people's preparations were underway as well as my transformation into an office temp. Dad was booking the honeymoon, I'd been bought a suit, there was a rehersal which I had to go to tomorrow, It was all pretty hectic at our house these days. I hurried inside before Dad got back and found me in the drive with all this stuff. I unpacked and hid everything in my room. Oh God, the clothes were so delicous. I had never really admitted this to myself before but I really did want to wear women's clothes. It was going to be fantastic. In the other bags I discovered some other things that Steph had got for me. As well as the hair remover there was extensive amounts of pretty heavy-duty makeup, some simple but elegant jewellry, including some clip-on earrings. I also discovered my new bras. I was to be a B-cup, it seemed, and there were, as expected, gel breastforms. I tried them on, inside one of my new bras. I put on the rollneck cotton top. I admired my profile in the mirror. I liked it. The last surprise was a waist cincher, and what appeared to be a pair of padded panties. These had come from a shop called MissTer. I groaned a little when I saw this. These were not exciting undergarments, these were hardcore transvestite paraphenalia, designed to give a man the shape of woman's body. They brought home to me that Steph. was deadly serious about this. I packed it all away, and went downstaires to get some dinner ready.

Dad came home from his golf outing just as I was just finished preparing the dinner.

"Steph gone to the shower already?" He asked.

"Yeah, she left an hour ago." I said.

"So, just us two men dining this evening Ken." Said Dad.

I wasn't feeling particularly manly at that moment, but I agreed, yes it would be just the two of us together. We chatted about the holidays, and school and sports over dinner. Finally, Dad said. "So, Ken. What do you think of Chérie? It'll take a bit of getting used to - having a woman around the house again, won't it."

Dad was sounding me out, I realised. He was probably still a little worried about how we'd all adjust to these new arrangements once Chérie had moved in.

"Well, there's always been Steph." I said, just trying to avoid the converstion. In truth I wanted to get back upstairs to have my shower and try on some clothes.

Dad's expression grew more serious. "Yes, Stephanie. There's always Stephanie." He said, deep in thought. He turned to me. "Has she spoken to you about Chérie? Do you guys, like, talk?"

Dad could be an asshole when he tried to get down with the kids.

"Sure, yeah. I think she's cool with it. With the whole 'Stepmom' thing." I said.

"That's good, that's good. That whole mother-daughter-stepmother thing can be really difficult you know, really Freudian." He paused. "I hope things will be okay between them." He paused again. I didn't know what to say.

"You see, Ken. After your Mom moved out, Steph, naturally, stepped into her shoes in a lot of ways. She runs this house, as you know. She does all the shopping, all the bills, all that stuff. I've relied on her, quite frankly, and there's no way I could have coped without her." He paused,gathering his thoughts. There was something he was trying to articulate but didn't know how.

"But Chérie, you see she's pretty strong willed too. In fact they're kind of alike in many ways. She'll want to do things her way. She'll want to make this house her own. Women are like that. They like to make their own nests. She's already been picking out colours."

I looked blank.

"Paint." He said. "She wants to start redecorating as soon as we get back from the honeymoon. I told her - we've only just redecorated here last year - but she won't listen. It's not that she doesn't like the way the house is now, she just wants to do it her way. Nestmaking." He shruggd.

"I see. I think. But what's that got to do with Steph?" I asked.

Dad just stared at me.

"You've a lot to learn about women Ken." Was all he said. He started to clear up the dishes.

Dad was going to be going to his own Stag party later on that evening, and he was going to stay over with one of his friends who had a flat in the city rather than drive home drunk. I returned upstairs and, grabbing the bottle of hair remover, went into the bathroom. It said to apply, and then leave for twenty minutes before showering off. I did as instructed. While I waited, I flicked through some of Steph's magazines that she kept in the bathroom. I looked at make-up tips. I lingered over the lingerie adverts. I wondered about the prices of some of the dresses. Soon, I was ready to get into the shower. The stuff smelt revolting. I wondered about the wig. Should I take it off? I decided I would, I'd wash my own hair and see if I could get it back to the way Carol had it before. Just as I removed the wig I heard Dad shout out goodbye from downstairs. I waited to make sure he drove off - I didn't want to bump into him as I returned to my room.

When I was sure he was gone I stepped into the shower. Ten minutes later I stepped out again, another step nearer to being a girl. I towelled myself off quickly, marvelling at the difference the absence of hair made to my legs. I ran back to my room. I really wanted to jerk off, but I wanted to get my hair right first, and in any case, I really ought to do it while it was damp. I got Steph's hairdryer and sat down in front of the mirror. I put in the lotion that Carol had used, combed and then carefully blow dried. It wasn't as easy as Carol had made it seem, but I wasn't displeased with the reusult. I put in the wax, and teased it into the the lovely shape that Carol had shown me. Now it looked good, but there was still something wrong. With a laugh I peeled off the eyebrows. The shower had melted the glue so they came away easily. I realised that I would have to be careful about wearing them. It would be easy to forget I was wearing them, or not. I placed them into their protective case and looked bak at my face. I squirmed a little. Was it just wishful thinking? Was I actually attractive? I wondered about the make-up. I longed to try some, but decided I'd better wait for Steph. In the meantime, panties.

Soon, I was dressed in the padded panties and bra, with the breastforms in. I pulled on one of the larger of Steph's pairs of panties in order to cover the not-quite flesh-coloured padding in my rear. I got the cincher on. It was designed to be laced up from the front. I tightened it as far as it could go, and had a look at my shape in the mirror. It was ridiculous, and anyway, it was painfully tight. I had to be practical. I loosened it enough to give myself just a hint of a waist and then pulled on some dark pantyhose. Up to now this hadn't been as erotic as I'd expected. The breasts were nice, but the padded panties just looked and felt silly. The pantyhose, however, was a revelation. I'd put some on before this of course, but the sensation and the look now over my smooth legs was unbelievable. It felt wonderful. I ran my hands over my smooth legs several times. Shoes!

I got out the sexiest of the shoes Steph had bought. They had just an inch of heel, and were fairly plain. Steph had said there was no point in tottering around an office on high heels, no woman wore them unless she had to, these were the shoes of a office girl. Still, they were unmistakably feminine, and I slipped them on. I loved the shape they made where they met the upper part of my foot, the vee of dark stocking. I put on one of the dark skirts, zipping it up at the side and then a white satin blouse. As I buttoned up the cuffs I glanced at myslef in the mirror. Only this morning I had been admiring the girls at the hairdressers, and now, here I was, almost as lovely. I tied on a blue scarf around my throat as Steph had shown me that afternoon and looked back in the mirror. The effect was marvellous. While it had looked silly before, the padded panty made a big difference to my shape. The cincher gave me a narrow waist at the waistband of my hip-hugging skirt and my modest chest moved relistically as I twirled in front of the mirror. I started. A car had driven up. I peeked through the curtain. It was Stephanie.

Suddenly I felt a bit nervous about being seen. It was ridiculous, but I was embarrased. I wondered if I had enough time to change before she got in. Of course not. I checked my hair. I was in a bit of a panic. I sat down on the edge of my bed and tried to calm myself. What the hell was I doing anyway? In a minute Steph was at the door. She knocked.

"Are you in there Ken?" She asked.

"Yes, Steph. Come in." I said, as calmly as I could manage.

She stepped in and I stood up to meet her. As soon as she saw me, her hands flew up to her face. She was shocked.

"Oh my God, Ken you're gorgeous. I can't believe it. The hair just makes you."

She seemed sincere. Her reaction was so swift I couldn't doubt her.

"Do you really think so?" I said.

Steph came all the way into the room and walked around me.

"Oh yes. Your legs are great. I was worried about your knees, but they're fine. You really have quite a girlish body. You got the fanny panties on okay, and the cincher too I see. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist getting into your clothes at the first opportunity. Did you hare up here as soon as Dad was gone."

I hung my head. Steph caught my expression.

"You didn't even wait did you." She said, almost triumphantly. I shook my head.

Steph laughed. "I knew I wouldn't have any trouble persuading you. Now, let me get changed and we'll have a little make-up party. Take the scarf off for the moment and drape something around your shoulders."

She went out. She was back in five minutes. I'd put a chair in front of my sideboard mirror and fetched a towel to put over my shoulders, like a bib. When Steph came in I was surprised to see she was wearing her pyjamas, a dark blue satiny pair, quite out of keeping with her usual wardrobe.

"I just couldn't be bothered changing properly." She said. "And anyway, this is more appropriate for a girly make up party. Don't bother with that chair. This first time, I'm going to make you up, when I've got an effect I like, I'll show you how to do it in the mirror. Take your shoes off and sit on the bed."

She had some of her own makeup with her, and while I put away the chair and shucked off my shoes, she opened my closet and fetched out the bag of 'My' makeup. I knelt on my bed and Steph got on, facing me, but our knees stuck out and it didn't seem to work.

"This won't do." Said Steph. "You lie on your back with your head on my lap."

I complied and lowered my head onto her warm,silky lap. She arrayed the bottles, jars, pencils and compacts to one side.

"How do you feel Ken?" She asked as she selected the first jar and opened it.

"Like I'm dreaming."I said. "This is so far beyond weird that it almost feels normal."

"But you're enjoying yourself, right?" She said, as she scooped a large amount of some very cold cream onto my face and rubbed it in vigorously. "You looked like you enjoyed youreself at Image, and I know you liked shopping with me." She added, with emphasis.

I was utterly calm, staring up at my sister's chest in her soft satin pyjama top, and beyond, her lovely face, frowning in concentration as she applied the cream.

"Yes, I have to admit I am enjoying this. I don't know why. It's just, it's just...."

"What?" She was removing the cream again.

"I wish this wasn't you." I said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

"I mean, I wish you weren't my sister. Wait, that didn't come out right either. I mean....

"Shut up dummy." Said Steph., not unkindly. "I know what you mean, and you can just put all those thoughts out of your head. I'm not doing this to give you some sort of kinkly thrill. If you get a hard on from putting on skirts, that's just great for you, but don't even think of waving it anywhere near me. And you can stop staring at my tits through my PJs too you little perv."

She said all this, in a friendly enough tone, not cruelly as she might once have done, and when she finished, I just kept quiet and let her get on with the makeup. There was nothing to say. I kept looking at her breasts though. They were lovely.

What was frustrating about this, was that I couldn't see the effect of what she was doing. Also, she seemed to be trying different things, she kept opening and closing things, dabbing some tiny amount of something onto my eylid, cheek or lips, only to scrutinise it and the then wipe off again fairly roughly, with a tissue. Still, it was lovely, even better than the time with Carol in the hairdressers. It was impossible for me not to catch her eyes occasionally as she stared down at me in her lap. It was wonderfully intimate, and I felt closer to her than ever before, maybe closer to her than I'd ever felt to anyone. She smiled at me occasionally. She could be very tender and sweet when she wanted to. It occoured to me that her toughness and bitchiness was probably just an act, a defensive stance. Steph seemed to have it tough. She'd been upset at our Mum leaving. She and Dad rowed a lot, or at least they used to. At school she seemed to get a hard time from a lot of the girls of her own age. I'd never known why. They used to call her 'Scrappy' as a nickname because she got into fights a lot. Now some kds called her 'Leslie'. I didn't know where that had come from, and now didn't seem like the right time to ask.

Finally I could tell she was nearly done. She had saved the lipstick till the end. She opened a stick and twisted it out. It was a soft pinkish colour, almost flesh toned. She looked like she was about to put it on me, when she changed her mind. She held it in front of me.

"You do it." She said. "It's easier to put it on yourself. Don't go overboard."

I didn't want to get up from my position on her lap, but I did. I went over to the mirror.

"Wait!" Said Steph. "Just a second."

She came over to me. I thought she was going to make some last-minute adjustment, but instead she put her arms around me and put her head on my chest.

"I love you Ken." She said, her voice suddenly choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I can be such a bitch sometimes, but it's usually for your own good." She looked into my eyes for a moment. "You love me too right?" She asked.

I was too surprised to be surprised at this. "Yes Steph." I said simply. "I love you. I told you before, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." She replied. I noticed there was glistening in her eyes. Suddenly she kissed me on the lips. It was too sudden and too intensely emotional to be exciting sexually. I realised that I didn't really understand her at all.

"That's all." She said as she released me. "Not put your lipstick on, and we'll see how you look."

She turned away, and seemed to collect herself again. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I'd expected a very different effect. After all this time, I expected a totally made-up face like the first woman who'd spoken to me in Image, but in fact I looked hardly made-up at all. The effect was striking in the diffference it made to my features. My cheekbones seemed higher, my eyes were accented, my lashes were longer. Only my lips needed attention. I drew on the lipstick, trying not to overdo it.

"Now rub your lips together." Said Steph. from over my shoulder. I did so. The face was complete.

I turned to my sister. She scrutised me.

"Shoes, scarf, earrings." She said. I fetched them all and put them on.

When I'd finished, Steph. was nodding.

"I knew it. I knew it. You are more girl than boy. Actually, more woman than boy. You will pass."

I looked back in the mirror. The effect was better than I could have hoped. Not only could I pass, I was pretty. Not beautiful, but nice looking in a tomboyish, butch kind of way. I was the sort of girl that Steph. hung out with. Could I really pass? I tried to picture myself like this in public. Instantly I felt fear. I looked at Steph.

"There's more to this than just clothes, isn't there?" I said - an element of panic in my voice.

Steph was firm. "Clothes are nothing. Being a woman is about being a woman inside. You need to learn how to walk, talk and act like a woman. You will have one week of training. The only really hard part will be the walking. Talking is easy, you have a girlish voice already. You just need to remember not to raise your voice. Don't worry, you'll be getting help with all that. Other things will make a big difference too. Hold on there, I've something in my room." She dashed out again.

I would be getting help? What did that mean. I admired myself in the mirror again. I was more than just turned on by my reflection, I felt like a different person - an attractive, lovely person quite different to the real me, But which one was the real me? If was in disguise now, then who was I when I wore the wig?

Steph returned with a pair of women's glasses.

"These are fake glasses - the lens is clear so they won't hurt your eyes."

I took them from her and put them on. They made a huge difference to the appearance of my face, narrowing it and concealing the brow line around my eyes. I had to agree that it was very difficult to tell I was a boy. Impossible maybe.

"See? And with some fake nails your hands will be whole lot more feminine. Remember, people will be expecting a woman, they won't look that closely. You just have to make sure nobody gets inside your panties in that office."

I looked at her in mock horror. Steph laughed.

"Don't try to pretend that you wouldn't love to be felt up while you're dressed. You wouldn't have picked the clothes you did if you weren't a little slutty."

"Steph, seriously, you're right about a lot of things, but not that. I don't fancy men."

I was deadly serious, trying to convince Steph of this, but she was shaking her head.

"Doesn't matter. You may not 'fancy' men as you say, but you certainly want to feel attractive, and what's better proof of that than a sexual advance?" She directed me to to look back in the mirror at the evidence of my desires. I was confused. To try to change the subject, I asked what had happened at the bridal shower.

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh it was one of those lingerie parties where they try to get you to buy teddies and uncomfortable body tops. All of Chérie's friends were there, running in and out of her living room with skimpy undies on, giggling and squealing. Chérie was trying on some lacy bridal lingerie, when her firend Misty started to fondle her tits, and then they got out the sex toys. Before you knew it, we were all in one big lesbian orgy, writhing and moaning on the floor in our satiny underwear, thrusting dildos in and out of every available orifice."

She said all this as if it had been the most boring and tiresome thing in the world. She stopped. She looked at me with an expression of mingled surprise and contempt. Suddenly she slapped the back of my head and almost shouted into my ear."We sat around, opened stupid presents, drank soda and cooed about how lovely Chérie is going to be in her dress, and how lucky Stephanie is to have such a lovely Stepmom and how lovely absolutely every bloody lovely thing is going to be."

I tried to pretend that I hadn't been taken in by her first story by laughing, but it didn't seem to convince her, or me.

Steph didn't give me a chace to think about how stupid I was. She sat back, cross-legged on my bed.

"Okay. Task one finished. You'll pass a visual inspection, and very satisfactorily too." She caught my eye and sighed. "Okay, Ken you're gorgeous. Tomorrow, is the damned wedding rehersal, after that I want you to go to my friend Ellen's house. I'll give you the address tomorrow. You'll be spending a lot of time with her."

"What for Steph?"

She made an irritated 'Tch' at my interruption.

"She's going to teach you to walk, and get your manners and voice right. Now..."

"Why Steph?"

"Shut up you moron. Because you act like a man."

"No, I mean why is she..."

"You'll find out when you get there. Because she's my friend that's why, okay?"

I just nodded. I couldn't meet her gaze when she was angry with me.

"Ken, I'm sorry." She said. "Come over to me."

I shucked off my shoes, and hitched up my skirt a little to get onto the bed beside her. Steph made me lie down beside her so I was looking up at her again.

"Remember, I said I'd get you your heart's desire?" She asked.

I started. "Isn't this it?" I asked.

She looked like I'd said something weird.

"Dressing up? Don't be silly. That's not much of a desire. Look, don't worry about it. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Ellen knows what's going on, and she wants to help us. Okay? You just turn up and she'll do the rest. You've met her before."

I had. I remembered quite well. She was one of Steph's most beautiful friends. Once, when Steph had a sleepover she'd caught me peeking at her in her babydoll nightie. She was so fabulous looking that I couldn't help looking longer than I should have and she'd caught my eye. She'd teased me about it, and called me a sissy. I wasn't sure why but the incident had aroused me terribly. I was a bit afraid of her to tell the truth. She often featured in fantasies of mine, but she was just too remote and aloof to ever think of as anything more than a wonderful fantasy.

Steph was continuing.

"... wedding on Saturday, and then we have two whole weeks to ourselves. Williams are expecting you on Monday the 20th, just one week after the wedding so you've a lot to do to prepare for that. I'm not going to let you go if I don't think you're ready, but there's no reason why that should happen. You can pass and you will pass if you apply yourself. Will you do it Ken?"

"Yes Steph."

"More firmly Ken. More conviction. Be a strong willed girl."

"Yes Steph."

"That's it Ken." She gave me another of her little kisses on the mouth and sprang off the bed. "Don't crease your clothes, hang them up correctly now. Goodnight Ken, and well done." She blew me another kiss and was gone.

I lay back on the bed. I could hardly imagine how many changes had taken place that day, not just in my appearance, but how I felt about myself, and Stephanie. My emotions were all jumbled up. I had no idea who or what I was or what wanted. The only things I could hold onto was that Steph and I loved each other very much, and that I could, with effort, be a passably pretty girl.

I'd like to claim that I didn't think of Chérie as I masturbated that night, wearing my new lingerie in bed. I did though. Visions of her in various stages of undress and sexual poses presented themselves to me as I fondled myself through my silk panties. What would it be like to be with her while dressed as a woman? The image was unspeakably erotic. I imagined this odd kind of psuedo-lesbian scene as I slowly brought myself off. Images of Steph popped into my mind too, but I managed to replace her face with that of Ellen, and thoughts of being with her as a girl were also incredibly erotic. When I'd finished I felt ashamed again as usual, but somehow thoughts of how Steph had been so pleased with me assuaged my guilt a little. I went to sleep strangely pleased with myself for the first time in vey long time. If I dreamed, I don't remember what I dreamed about.