A Year Ago Ch. 07

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Sara meets Mrs. Norton.
2.7k words
4.61
19.6k
11

Part 7 of the 19 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/10/2014
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MadQuill
MadQuill
357 Followers

This is an evolving story of Sara's sensual investigation. Please review the first phase of the story . . .

*****

I didn't sleep well, arising several times to clear the beer from the evening with Matt. His look was on my mind. Lying awake for nearly an hour I wondered about attracting men. Of course I'd considered this after my first walk in the Green. The man offering to buy me a drink that evening wasn't guilty nor was I but I needed some reflection. Matt's comments showed me how my life change might upset some men I actually knew and liked. I fell off to sleep trying to not think of Matt. He was two years older and rode four days a week. He was unlike many riders due to his size, nearly two hundred but over an inch taller than me and in great shape.

I got up to pee and I checked my weight; I was 130 pounds for the first time since I'd turned eighteen. The night was long, but I did fall back asleep, waking an hour late.

The workout yesterday had helped calm me so I checked my E-mail as I made the coffee. Dressing in my sports bra reminded me I would need time to remove the forms and attach the new set. I studied the new set instructions and noted that the adhesive was different. The package included a two-part removal. I used the towelette and the smaller forms were easily removed. Getting this done would allow my skin to breathe while I did my routine.

I only did a short workout, since without the forms I felt a little lost. I tried using an underwire bra holding the forms beneath the sports bra but still felt strange. I stayed dressed in my sweats and did some work on my invoices. I'd gotten a great new account this week and their payment strengthened my receipts for the month. Without having started this business venture I might not have had the freedom to pursue the new world that being Sara was allowing. The expansion of the business had occurred each month, but this new client had nearly doubled the income.

My work plan for today was a bit unsettled. I intended to dress and get to the salon before 11am. I was running at least thirty minutes late and I still needed to attach the new breasts. I changed out of the sweat pants and sneakers. Thankfully these came with a layout template that took the anxiety of positioning them away. Once the larger forms were set I put on my new white bra without disturbing the forms and rolled my hips off of the bed and stood. Moving to the mirror to see how well the template had helped I was happily surprised by the subtle bounce that my heels provided. I stared that my reflection wearing the white bra and thong. Clearly this was the new me. Due to my thinning waist and the new size breasts I had a figure. I reached to the dresser for the tape; my waist measured 28". I would still use the cincher for another few weeks but a new slightly smaller one.

The new sheath dress was hanging near and I was so excited I grabbed a full slip and stepped into it. The zip wasn't difficult because it had a long pull temporarily attached. Returning to the mirror I wished my hair was growing faster. Without makeup I looked too much like a tomboy in the dress. I also noted that black heels were so wrong with this dress. I removed the beautiful dress carefully and re-hung it. Pulling on a pair of my old boy jeans, I needed to snug the belt two holes tighter, and slipped on my heels. I got my keys and headed to the Audi.

The car started roughly, the battery was still original. I paused and called for a service appointment for Monday to have a new battery installed and to have the oil changed. The salon appointment was with the same woman who done my hair ten days before. I'd assumed that she would recall me, due to her running gender conversation. I was still unsure whether she knew I was a boy. When I arrived and asked for Deirdra she came to the front to meet me.

"Thanks for asking for me. You're Sara right?"

Forty minutes later my hair looked wonderful. Deirdra had worked some magic; short hair styling seemed to be her specialty.

Deirdra said as she washed my hair, "I get all of the girls like you that made a quick decision and chopped off their mane. Surprising how many do it at home, I wished they come in before cutting. Maybe they feel someone will talk them out of doing it. Anyway, I see quite a few dykes too." Her conversation went on and on. She didn't seem to recognize me.

"Don't you recall helping me a week or so ago? You mentioned Cara Delevingne, the model as a style cue."

"But she's got long straight hair Sara. I'll grant you the, well your brows and full lips are similar, yeah sorta, but you're short about sixteen inches of hair girl. I do remember cutting your hair, but I think this style works better."

I wanted her to focus on making me beautiful and asked that the nail girl attend to my nails. I selected the color Rose Bowl that she said would cure to a 'soft fleshy red'. When I was finished I arranged for a separate appointment for a waxing. I had waited to determine how many days passed before there was any sign of my beard. Nearly four days and I was still smooth. We set the date for next Thursday afternoon.

The Audi started up without an issue and I headed home to get ready for the office. I was quite excited to have a dress so beautiful. I was looking forward to my new lingerie as well. The platinum set came with a lacy bra with a C cup. I hoped the new forms worked with it. Purchasing underwear on-line, especially bras, was guessing. The white full coverage bra would be a backup if there was an issue.

Driving along I considered how I enjoyed the larger breasts. Madison's were substantially larger. I knew I would never want to have a chest that large. These thoughts stimulated a search within me for the initial event that started my transition. Was that video the only signal?

I had gone out with simple makeup, mascara and lipstick, and I needed to do my face properly. Meeting this new landlord, Mrs. Norton, should have been unimportant, but something about the telephone conversation lead me to take additional care. The dress was nearly $400 so I clearly was trying to impress.

I read on-line that many transfemmes had issues settling their sexual interests, which seemed correct. I recalled the salesman who'd helped me a week ago avoid the boys. I didn't understand how I might act in a relationship like that. His semi-hardness had clearly excited me but was that because I was thinking of his cock or caused by the awareness that I could make him want to bed me? I hadn't ever considered anal sex so there was quite a bit of road to travel to allowing a man to actually sleep with me.

Getting the right office look for my makeup required a second try, but I made notes this time. Removing and re-starting took twenty or so minutes. Time I wouldn't always have available. Slipping the new lace bra on I settled the new breasts into the cups and went to the bath to check the edge detail. A little more work was required to conceal the edge of these new falsies.

Mrs. Norton's coyness regarding 'Michael' aside, I was trying to develop my female personality based on what I'd been as a male: an independent, self-actualized, businessperson. My financial security was increasing but I needed to re-establish the important relationships in my life. Michael's friends could become Sara's but each friend would be on their unique schedule. I couldn't force them to accept me as a woman. My only hoped was that they might be willing to see this new person.

There was something new to me in relating with lesbians. Defining my sexual interest seemed simple; I loved women. Their bodies smooth, scented and delicate were my goal. The softness of touch required to bring on their release was amazing. Such care I thought I possessed but Lynn had left me without saying my lovemaking was at fault. Yet the fantasy stirred by Mrs. Todd was alive. As a lesbian would I be more submissive than I'd been as a male? I considered the way Lynn, and almost every woman I'd slept with, were in bed. I would assure their climax before even considering my own. I just saw their needs as a challenge to meet and could be comfortable only once they were sated. Was my sexual pleasure equal to theirs or subordinate?

I clipped the suspender belt into place wondering if pantyhose would be a smarter choice. The dress hem might ride up and I'd feel odd if the girls found out I was dressed in sexy hose. I selected a sheer pair of fine pantyhose instead. Pulling the garment up to just below my hips I realized that my boy parts were more secure in the pantyhose.

On-line I'd seen an interesting stat: in some European countries young men prioritize their woman's orgasms ahead of their own. This was a cultural change from the previous generation, when women's sexual satisfaction was muted. As a male was I trying to orgasm or was simple ejaculation the goal? What I tried to achieve with my partners was more comprehensive and deep. The world's languages, our art and experience, even the details of the female body, enable a woman to let the other inside; let a man penetrate her body.

I wasn't really attracted to neither Avery nor Madison. Well maybe Madison's breasts were still on my mind, but Mrs. Norton's look across the office two days ago hung with me. She was quite beautiful and something transpired between us in that moment. She clearly knew her husband's rental was with Michael, not a woman named Sara. On the telephone my manner was assertive, trying to maintain a balance. Yet her look that afternoon had caused me to stumble my words and moved me to run. I'd roamed about on lesbian and submissive websites over the passed few evenings and saw certain behaviors that reminded me of myself. I of course wasn't a true female let alone a sub but I needed time to understand the role my gender may have in terms of my sexuality. I wouldn't rush anything.

I found my new cincher, this one a bit smaller, and clipped it into place. The neckline of the dress exposed more cleavage and I had to find the correct chemise. The ivory one looked best and after pulling the dress over my hips and zipping in I walked to the mirror. Wrong shoes again!

It was now clear to me. My goal seemed to be to adapt to this condition of femininity and the need to allow one within. Could I surrender to the process consciously? Here was the core of my submissiveness. Previously I considered my dressing as an emulative activity; to try and be female. There was a great deal of lesbian activities shown on-line and aniligus seemed to be pretty widely enjoyed. But anal penetration required special preparation. It seemed that many women did enjoy this form of intercourse, but care and patience were required. The external appearances were something ten days ago I sought to achieve. Now I realized I would need to modify my body, more specifically I'd need to create a means of allowing someone to enter my body.

I shook with this thought. Seeking to understand why I dressed had turned to a major new sexual activity. I was really late now. I went to the closet and slipped on the strapped beige 4 1/2" heels carefully and stepped back to the long mirror in the hall. Yesterday I considered my outfit a bit too much for poor Lynn. She didn't say anything negative but I felt she was thinking I was dressed like a Barbie. Today I wasn't interested in her feelings. I had a new dress and would strut into the meeting with a smile on my face.

The dress hung perfectly and my legs and heels look correct together, the sheen of the hose soft rather than shiny, Deirdra's work was subtle and looked great, but I'd forgotten my earrings and bangles. Using the bath mirror I still had trouble getting the studs of the hoops in the tiny holes. With my hands close to my face I realized my new nail color and the lipstick I'd used wasn't the best. I needed something different. The last trip to DrugFair I'd picked up three tones of ShuUemura. The rouge worked much better. It was after 1pm when I swung my long legs into the driver's seat.

Riding to the office I considered my small group of friends. Only two knew of my changes. Matt and Lynn were supportive but what of the others? I needed friends and making new ones as a woman may prove more difficult. Most guys would be impossible now. Getting into my panties would be their drive, not enlightened conversation on Maslow's Hierarchy nor the sports scores. Never again would any of the riding club see me as able to pull my load. I remember watching Sheila's difficulty. She is a butchy lesbian and insists the guys treat her equally. She is capable but they only allow her to cut the wind on the shorter rides. I'd watched her butt many times, and now wondered if there was any future for me in the club. Matt had stated it clearly; 'never had I looked at you butt like I did tonight.'

Pulling to a stop I grabbed my new bag and rolled my legs out of the Audi. This simple action caused me to pause. So many actions made me feel feminine yet the need to allow someone inside wouldn't leave me. How does one prepare for this alternative sexual act?

Looking up I noticed Avery on the phone; she waved and turned back to her business. I entered the office and heard an alert. There was a server failure. These weren't uncommon but require immediate attention. The site was down due to a network server issue. After doing the analysis I was able to reset the application server and the site reloaded. Carrying on with this focused work allowed me to lose track of the time. The phone rang.

It was Avery, "Sara, Mrs. Norton has just arrived. She's in the parking lot. See you in three minutes?"

"Thanks for the call. Yes, I'll be there shortly."

I went to the window and discretely saw her stepping from the BMW. She was dressed in an ivory A-line dress with capped sleeves, a lace bodice and soft gray heels. Her hair was partially up and she had a simple rose colored square city bag in her right hand. She couldn't have seen me but she looked up to the window as she moved toward the door.

I realized I should check myself having been hard at the server reset. I stepped into the ladies to confirm I looked presentable. Wondering softly why I cared what this woman thought I almost collided with Angelica.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Norton, I didn't hear you," I was blushing as she extended her right hand after shifting her bag.

"Don't apologize, you must be Sara. I'm happy to meet you. I just need the restroom a moment." She pressed my hand and smiled.

I went to the doorway of InteriorBent, "Mrs. Norton is in the ladies. I nearly bumped her to the floor. I'm clumsy in these heels sometimes."

The girls turned and smiled, Avery saying, "Come and sit on the sofa Sara. Wow, what a beautiful dress. You're quite a clothes horse, and you've got an eye for color too."

Mrs. Norton was at the door, smiling.

Phase Two

To be continued,

MadQuill
MadQuill
357 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
I Love the subtleness of this tale

The simple things Sara has started could become quite complicated. Great story!

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