Chapter 15

The events described above became my life for the next ten days. I’d get up early, dress as feminine as I could to please my aunt, and then make my way to her kitchen and prepare our coffee and breakfast. Next, I’d sit beside her, sometimes with the heavy book on my head, mostly not because I hardly ever dropped it anymore, and daintily eat my fruit bowl or drink my smoothie and coffee. Aunty Liz would spend breakfast time quizzing me on topics of interest as we companionably sat together.

After four days, Aunt Liz announced she’d have to return to work. It turned out she, not the person whose name was on the sign above the door, owned The Fontaine Clinic. It was one of several small businesses, almost all in the health or allied health fields, she owned. When Aunty Liz returned to work, I spent the days feeling strangely bereft, as if my sole support person had abandoned me. It made me even more determined to please her and ensure she wanted to keep me around.

To this end, I began researching ways to make myself less masculine. I practised tucking until I could do it in only a few minutes. I kept my entire body below my eyebrow entirely free from hair and practised gliding across the floor until it became an ingrained habit. Then, I used the laptop Aunty Liz had given me to research how to feminise my voice.

My aunt had supplied headphones, so I’d study the videos and record myself speaking the various phrases. Then I’d play them back, wince at how flat and masculine my voice was, and try again. Eventually, by Saturday afternoon, when my aunt had finished work for the week, I felt my voice, although not entirely feminine, was at least androgynous enough to pass.

I spent Saturday morning ensuring Aunt Liz’s house was immaculately clean from top to bottom. I did all the laundry, hung it out, brought it in and folded it when it was dry. Then, I used my developing cooking skills to sliver some lean steak and season it. Next, I covered it with butcher’s paper and left it on the bench so it would be ready to go into a frypan when she arrived home. Then, I tossed a garden salad and placed it in the fridge. Finally, I set the table and added several condiments to a tray, ready for my aunt to choose.

Aunty Liz had stated she’d be home by 2:00 p.m. At 1:00, I inspected the house again, ensuring I hadn’t missed anything before hurrying to my room. I showered and washed my hair. Then, after drying off, I liberally doused myself with some cashmere bouquet smelling talcum powder. Next, I carefully taped my genitals away and dressed. I’d found a delicious-looking, mocha-coloured, stretch-knit mini-dress in the cupboard, and I suspected my aunt would love it. The dress clung to and barely covered my ass and had a scooped-out left hip hem that exposed my left thigh to my hip bone.

After tucking, I put on a lace-string white thong. I needed to use the airbrush lotion to disguise the stretch sticky tape holding my genitals tucked, but unless my aunt pulled my dress up, it wouldn’t have mattered. I put the dress on and was dissatisfied with my look. Without tits, I looked like a skinny boy wearing a dress. I tried putting on a bra, but the item obviously wasn’t designed to be worn with one because the bra showed clearly.

I momentarily despaired and almost gave up on wearing the dress. However, inspiration hit, and I searched through the vanity, finally finding some adhesive ‘chicken fillet’ bra inserts in the bottom drawer right at the back. With them was a role of double-sided tape. I excitedly placed the tape on the inserts and fiddled with their placement until I felt they looked natural. Then, filled with nervous anticipation, I put the dress on and looked in the mirror. Perfect!

I checked the time and realised I didn’t have much left. Swiftly taking out some beige stay-up stockings, I awkwardly pulled them up my legs and smoothed them around my upper legs. Next, I pulled out a pair of black strappy high heels. They were a little big but close enough for short-term wear.

Finally, I didn’t know what to do with my hair, so I settled for wetting it down and slicking it back. I figured that wet look, pulled back from the face hairstyle, was one I’d seen models wear and would work for now.