New Mother, New Life Pt. 03

If I had woken up alone that morning I would surely have thought that the whole night, the whole weekend so far, had been a dream. As it turned out, when I woke my brain took some very difficult steps of cognition before I could remember where I was and who I was with. When I realized where I was, I felt a jolt of sheer bliss and a giddy shiver causing me to smile uncontrollably. I turned and held this beautiful beast of a man that was beside me, my generous lover, if only for one night.

I laid in bed awake for some time after Matt had given his kisses and said his goodbyes to leave for work that morning. I knew that what had just happened had changed me for good but, for now, I was alone.

I switched the bedside lamp on, but the opaque lampshade did little to brighten the room. Lying on my back looking upwards at the image of myself reflected from the large mirror fitted to the ceiling. I stared at the reflection of the brunette lying on the messed-up bed in her pink nightie, her hair still brushed back into a tight ponytail, now looking slightly greasy, with her makeup a little smeared.

I stared and stared at the image above me. I did not recognise the beautiful woman and I did not recognise my 'normal' self. It had seemed as though the image of a stranger was floating several metres above the bed and, with it, my soul had left my body and was disconnected, floating up there somewhere too. The only way I can describe it is as an 'out of body' experience. Maybe it was the comedown from the ecstasy, yes...surely it had to be that!?

I reeled this surreal experience back by staring into the eyes of the reflection and breathing slowly until I realised that my mind, body and soul were unified. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I felt my body automatically breathe a very deep breath like I was gasping for fear of drowning and my heartbeat raced as my heart thumped against my chest. I looked around the room and tried to sit myself up in the bed. For the first time that morning I became aware of the strong smell of sex that was lingering in the room and bed sheets. I got out of bed and went to the wardrobe where I found a silk dressing gown which I wrapped around me and tied it at the waist.

As I walked to the bedroom door, I became conscious of how the cheeks of my bum rubbed off each other at each stride making me very aware of what seemed like my new, now primary, genital. My asshole felt like it had been stretched wide and my ass muscles tried in vain to close it fully tight. I had been fucked hard that night, filled with unadulterated, raw, male desire and lust, and now I felt strange...physically empty, but spiritually insatiable!

My face that Sunday morning must have been some picture when I walked into the airy glass atrium that was Helen's kitchen. The bright open space flooded by rays of early sunlight made me squint and frown having left the cocoon of the seedy, dark bedroom. Helen and Paola looked ethereal with the sunlight bouncing off their hair as they sat chatting over coffee and toast with the radio in the background.

"SOOO, 'ow was the big Kiwi cock?!", Paola enquired unashamedly, with one eyebrow raised.

I looked at them both and tried to contain a smile which broke from the corner of my mouth. My eyes widened and the smile lit up my whole face, in turn lighting up the faces of my two newest friends and confidants. Helen reacted instinctively and jumped out of her seat with a big hug for her long-lost child...

"Aw, my little girl is becoming a young woman", she said, as Paola clapped and laughed. I didn't know if they were mocking or joking or what, but I didn't care...I felt love, and true acceptance like I'd never felt before in my life.

"I knew that last night would be a great place for you to experience the wild and the wonderful, but I had no idea that you would have stolen the show and pulled the hottest guy in the club," Helen beamed, embracing and staring at me. She planted a proud motherly kiss on my cheek.

"What shall we do with this one Paola?" she proudly asked.

"I think with this girl, she KNOWS what she wants to do, 'eh?" Paola mused, "But... WILL she do it?". Paola gave a lingering and meaningful glance at Helen and then avoided my gaze and looked at the ashtray as she tipped the ash of her cigarette. Helen looked me in the eyes and said:

"Charlie will do whatever Charlie wishes to do."

My eyes welled up with tears and I hugged Helen with all the strength I had left after such a demanding night. We both cried with happiness and I'm sure I saw Paola wipe a tear from the corner of her eye too.

We went out for lunch that beautiful sunny Sunday. It felt a bit boring to be dressed in my own male clothes but didn't care too much because I still felt lucky to be enjoying the company of these two amazing women...and I kept thinking about THAT amazing night! I said my farewells in the evening and I'll never forget that ride home on the underground...I smiled to myself, cried to myself, dreamed to myself...I had felt love and now I was feeling loss. The emotional extremes of the whole weekend became far too much for me and I wept on the train and in my bed but, eventually, I slept soundly that night.

The next morning, I rang the call centre and quit my job. I felt a huge relief and rolled over in bed for another well-deserved snooze. 'Beauty sleep', I chuckled to myself.

Later that day, I found myself walking the north riverbank along the Thames, going over the past few days in my head. Inevitably, I ended up alone again at a riverside bar drinking beer and feeling sorry for myself as the happy people passed me by. At around 8pm, I am told, I rang Helen's mobile and got no answer so left a long, rambling message. She rang back but I didn't answer, obviously because I was too drunk to even notice my phone ring.

Helen, found me at one of the bars we had been at on the first day we met. She'd come to get me because she was concerned about me. She humoured me at the bar for a while and then suggested that we go back to her place.

We got back to Helen's apartment and she gave me a glass of water and sat me down on the couch. I told her about quitting my job and how I'd wanted to call her to arrange another day to meet up but had just gotten drunk instead. I felt like a piece of shit, intruding in her life, an inconvenience, just like I had been to by adoptive family. I made my feelings known and she cradled me and reassured me. She told me I had to stay with her that night. I must have cried myself to sleep in her bosom that night.

The next morning, I don't know what was worse... the hangover or the shame. Whichever it was, the sensual scent of Helen's bedclothes made it all go away. I emerged from the room wearing one of Helen's silk dressing gowns, desperate to shower the sweat and maleness from my beer and whiskey-sodden body. She was working at her bench in the far corner of the workshop area and cast me the stern eye of an unimpressed Irish seamstress. Nonetheless, she never dropped her well-spoken English accent:

"We do need to talk Charlie".

I eased myself down beside her at the bench and she continued...

"How do you feel about...well...everything? Are you happy with your life?"

"Yeah, I suppose it's not too bad...", I replied, "sometimes though...", my voice and train of thought tailed off as my eyes sank down to the floor.

"You're drinking because you are trying to cope, aren't you? Do you sometimes feel like you don't belong?" she probed.

"Yes... Exactly!", I lifted my head and stared into her blue eyes, perplexed yet relieved that she appeared to be able to read my mind.

"I know the feeling, I've had it most of my life. Don't you worry anymore if you feel like you don't belong, you need to know that more than anywhere you belong here with me," she took my hand and tried to smile but her quivering lips couldn't hide that she was overcome with emotion. We both cried and hugged tightly. I burst out:

"I just want to be a good person... I want to make you happy."

"Be the person you are, life the life that makes you happy. That will make me happy," she smiled through the tears, "now come on, there's lots work to be done before Thursday."

"What's happening Thursday?", I asked, realizing that the moment had passed and that life moves on...

"These costumes are needed on set and you've just volunteered to help me! I'll cook brunch, you get yourself together and we'll get stuck in," she ordered.

I promptly showered and I marvelled at how smooth my body still was after my recent waxing. Coupled with my arched eyebrows, I realised that I had never before looked, and felt, so feminine in the flesh and without clothes. I sprayed some of Helen's perfume and that feeling really intensified. I felt alive!

Helen had left out some comfy clothes for me to wear for our day's work ahead, a sheer blouse, some black leggings and ballet flats. Also on the bed with these, was a black silk bra with lace detail and matching knickers which I had seen Helen wear. The sensation I felt when slipping these on made my cock harden and press against the soft material. It was only a matter of time before I would leak pre-cum in these but I felt reassured that she would have known this already and would not be bothered. I felt so lucky to have found someone so open and accepting.

I placed the hairband on my head to keep my hair from my face and liberally applied some foundation followed by a light touch of eyeliner and mascara. A neutral shade of lipstick completed my look and I proudly revelled in how quickly I'd done my makeup. We ate and then got down to work putting the finishing touches on the costumes for the movie. One of the dresses, in particular, drew my admiration so Helen enticed me to try it on. It was Elizabethan-style but with the cleavage exposed, as was the fashion of the commoners at the time. Unfortunately, I did not have the ample assets to fill it. Helen smiled and told me not to worry because "big breasts run in the family, as you'll for yourself one day."

I looked at her perplexed then I burst out laughing when I realised what she meant. I pleaded that I was "fine for now and will be fine as long as such a hideous dress never comes back into fashion!" Our pleasure in each other's company made time fly and dusk soon eased upon us.

That evening Helen suggested that I come with her as her assistant on set on Thursday morning. She had to be in attendance for the first day of shooting to ensure that the costumes fitted properly and any 'wardrobe malfunctions' would be expertly dealt with. I was not keen on the idea and declined. A fetish club was one thing but going out in the real world in daytime just seemed a step too far.

"I think I'll give it a miss, thanks", I said, regretfully, because I was curious to see a real movie set, "or maybe I could just go as a guy?"

"Well you know what kind of guys work in wardrobe. Way over the top effeminate gay guys! That's not the type of personality I've seen you portray when you are dressed as a guy and the actresses and extras will get really creeped out if they think that some random guy is watching them get changed," Helen said. "I meet 'girls' like you in wardrobe and make up all the time. You'll be fine."

I hesitated.

"Let's wait and see how you feel about it tomorrow evening," she said and left it at that.

Wednesday afternoon came and after a busy morning we had the dozen or so costumes ready for collection by production staff who took them away in a van. Helen suggested that I choose an outfit for work the next morning; something simple, comfortable and girlie. We went through her professional wardrobe and pulled out a few garments most of which were too glamourous or eye-catching for an assistant on set.

"To be honest I really like what you're wearing," I said, "do you have something like that for me?"

Helen had been wearing her black Lycra yoga pants all day and they had persistently caught my eye as she moved around the room. They silhouetted her flawless ass perfectly, with the rear seam disappearing up the endless gap separating her cheeks. From the front, her subtle yet prominent pussy lips seemed sheathed by mere gossamer. The front centre seam highlighting the line of her labia and irresistibly drawing the eye to it every time. She was in such great shape that an unmistakable thigh-gap was more than apparent through these very flattering leggings. I loved what I saw and I wanted it so badly... in every way.

We went to her bedroom and from the drawers she produced all manner of leggings and tops. I tried on some colourful Lycra leggings and a black gym bra top which were both very comfortable but highlighted my boyish figure. Helen dug out a funky oversized knitted sweater and I pulled it on. It covered my ass and my front area nicely so I wouldn't have to worry about getting too much of the 'wrong' sort of attention. The collar was cut so wide that it sat asymmetrically on my shoulders allowing a peek at the shoulder strap of my black bra top. I was happy with this because it drew attention away from my face, which I was not confident about. Helen produced a long blonde real hair wig which I was just crazy about. The quality, style and fit of this wig was all a cut above anything I had seen before.

Helen had just returned with a pair of trainers for me to try on when she caught me looking at myself in the mirror, rather glumly.

"What's the matter darling?" she asked.

"I'm just not sure," I replied, "I'm not sure about all this. I mean, I think I look like a girl but that's just my point of view. What if I get 'read' tomorrow?"

"So? Somebody might recognise you as genetic male tomorrow. What does it matter to you about that? You just carry on and go about your business like any other girl on her internship. Guess what? These days nobody cares! If you set out to try to convince others, then you will lose your self-identity by worrying whether you have convinced yourself. You need to be yourself, be natural, shake off the shackles and let femininity flow through you. The best thing you can do is just be your brilliant self," she said reassuringly. "Believe me, everybody will be too busy tomorrow to even care if you'd two heads! Be as helpful as you can to everyone, don't get in the way and I promise that you will have a good time. I'll introduce you as my sister Charlotte McKee and after that the rest is up to you."

The mention of the name seemed to chime in my head. It sounded like the name of someone whom I didn't know but whom I'd been told that I was going to meet. A stranger who seemed familiar. I thought about it and spoke it back to Helen: "Charlotte McKee... I like it! Lottie McKee though? I sound like a character from Austin Powers!" I joked with some nervous modesty.

I was beginning to come around to the idea of the whole thing but I worried about my makeup. Helen sat me in front of her vanity mirror and did a simple step by step daytime makeup look which veered away from the basic natural look but without looking too over the top. As she fluttered around me explaining what she was doing, the shape of her body beneath the yoga leggings became even more apparent to me close-up. I mustered enough willpower to ignore it and I focused on the mirror and the amazing job she was doing on me. Her use of bronzer really impressed me and it gave me a huge confidence boost because this look was fashionable and I felt like I was far less likely to stand out. I looked like any other twenty-something girl!

"Come on then, let's have a look at you girl, give us a twirl," Helen praised, "Beautiful! Now, one more thing, I need to take some measurements of your vital statistics. Lift up your sweater."

I raised the hem of my sweater to reveal my mid-riff expecting her to wrap her tailors tape measure around my waist. Instead she was investigating the unsightly bulge formed by my flaccid cock and bits which was noticeably incongruent with my beautiful Lycra leggings. The feeling of someone else's hand brushing on my crotch tickled me. She touched and moved my bits as she measured my crotch which began to excite me as my silk panties rubbed against the Lycra. The teasing became too much and I protested:

"Why are you measuring me down there? I can tell you there's not much point," I hinted, as she muttered numbers to herself.

"I'd already started making a gaff for you but then I thought I should take some measurements to make sure it fits you properly," she said.

"What's a 'gaff'?" I asked.

"It's something that will keep these little bits tucked away out of sight. It's like an extra pair of knickers that will save you any embarrassment...down there," she explained. "The tricky bit will be trying to make your front area look natural. Look at mine for instance."

Grateful for the invitation, my eyes instantly shot down to her crotch. The detail of her voluptuous pussy was prominent though her pants. She turned her body towards the mirror, beckoning me to do the same and pointed to her groin area gesturing at her feminine features. I was in awe of her beautiful body. There we stood, two blonde women in our gym gear, comparing our bodies. We could have been sisters alright but for my inferior, boyish physique. She half-turned away from the mirror looking back at her side profile:

"It's all about posture, Charlotte. Stand up straight, shoulders back. That's right. Now suck in your tummy."

I instinctively mimicked her actions and I was amazed at how arching my lower back seemed to make my ass grow by a noticeable couple of inches.

"Wow...pretty good! Now, isn't that an improvement?" she said encouragingly, "A little more corset training and you'll get used to this!"

I followed her movements as she turned back to face the mirror. She enticed me to hold my posture and breath "long slow breaths, but don't fill up your rib cage" as she positioned herself behind me. She placed one hand on the small of my back and the other applied gentle pressure on my chest, helping me maintain the proper posture. She eased my inner thighs outward and I moved my feet further apart.

"Breathe...Breathe," she whispered, as she slid the waist of my pants down, followed by my panties. I saw the red nail polish of her fingers emerge from my crotch as she pulled my slightly swollen penis back between my legs. It stared to swell even more and my testes were pushed out of position. She then gently squeezed my sack which pushed each of my balls up into my body and repeated the manipulation of my cock back between my thighs.

"Hmmm, it's still a little bit bulky but definitely improvement. That's given me a few ideas. We can work with this. Good," she said, with a slap on my bottom.

I pulled my panties and leggings back up and by now my cock was swelling up to much more than a 'semi'. I didn't try to disguise its silhouette through the gym pants as it throbbed against my lower belly. I checked out our reflection in the mirror. Helen glanced at my physical anomaly.

"Oh, what's gotten you all hot and bothered now, dear?" she said in a faux-sympathetic tone. "Are you aroused by how gorgeous you look?"

"I'm aroused by how gorgeous we both look," I replied, "especially you. You look.... Incredible!"

As that word barely ghosted out of my mouth, my voice crackled with emotion and disbelief. I was overwhelmed by how radically my life had suddenly changed in the short time since I'd met her. From depressing boring grey to vivacious exhilarating colour beginning the instant she walked through the door of the restaurant a few days before. My young and beautiful mother was more like big sister and mentor to me and she was everything that I aspired to be. I was her muse. She was moulding me into her image and I was grateful for the privilege. I was so overcome with happiness at that moment that I the only thing I could think to so was to show my love and appreciation with a kiss.