A Secret Shared

I could feel the room spinning. That admonishing voice in my head was telling me what a useless idiot I was, for being the way I was. For being stupid enough to let someone else in on my deepest secret.

"... but I have missed you so much this week. I've missed my friend: My companion: My lover: I can't deny that what you said has shocked me but, I guess that this has always been a part of you. It was a part of you when we met, when we became friends and when we became much more together. It was always part of you. I may not have known it at the time, but this was part of you that I fell in love with. I am not sure what we are going to do in the future, but I am willing to give it a go and see what happens."

"You are not leaving me?" I gasped, tears beginning to form in my eyes. I hugged her close, so she could not see my face. Who wants to see their boyfriend acting in such a soft way?

"Oh Jeff, you idiot. I was never going to leave you. I love you too much to throw away what we have. I just didn't know what to do about the other you. However, as I have heard so much about her, I think it is about time we met. So I suggest you go and have a shower. We have a lot to do tonight. Oh! And make sure you have a close shave! That stubble is rubbing me raw!"

She turned on the lamp beside the bed, and for the first time, I could see the interior of the room. A mirror, with lights around the outside, had been placed on the study desk. Also on the desk was Clare's make-up bag, hair drier, brushes and different coloured hair ribbons. On the bed was a large fluffy towel, and numerous perfumed oils sat on the bedside table. I also glimpsed a clothes bag from Chelsea Girl, at the end of the bed, although I could not see what was inside.

"Hey! No peaking." Clare warned, catching me looking at the bag, and slapping me on the butt to shoo me along. "Get in that shower and then shave your face. While you are at it, I want what little leg and underarm hair you have removed as well. If you are going to be a girl, you are going it properly."

Preparations for a meeting

In a trance, I walked into the bathroom, removed my clothes and stepped into the shower. This was not what I was expecting. Although I had been dressing up in secret for several years, I had never shaved anywhere other than my face. The whole point about doing it in secret was not to give the game away by appearing as manly as possible at all other times in my life. Not that I had much of a manly body. I had not chest hair. My legs and arms had very fine, blonde hairs, only visible by close inspection, not that anyone before Clare had gotten close enough to do an inspection. I had some underarm hair, but I had never considered removing it. It would have triggered too many questions from the other boys in the showers after football.

I stood in the shower, letting the water wash away both the sweat from the train journey from London, but also all the thoughts from over the past week. I stood, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, letting the water massage my skin.

My meditation came to an end when Clare walked into the bathroom and tapped on the shower door.

"Hey come on girlfriend! Get a move on. Men might be able to get ready in five minutes, but us girls take a lot longer! Use the razor on your face, then I want those legs and armpits smooth. Be careful. I don't want to see any knicks. When you have finished, put on your robe on the back of the door."

I looked in the small face mirror, attached to the wall and removed the small patches of stubble that my body had finally began to produce. I still appeared to have the male hormones of the 15-year-old. Enough to make me constantly horny, without the drawback of annoying hair growth, spots or BO.

Next, I used the lavender smelling cream to lather up my legs and removed the soft, thin down that covered them. Years of swimming and cycling meant that it was fairly easy to shave my toned legs. The armpits were more difficult, especially shaving the right arm with my left hand. I was amazed when I had finished, to find that once again, there was no blood.

Once the unwanted hair had been removed, I set to washing what was left. Through my teens, my parents had always made sure I had very short hair, as per the rules of the local school I attended. However, once I arrived at university and found that I had to pay for my own haircuts, I had been avoiding heading to the barbers. My hair was not particularly long, but it was getting close to my shoulders, in a kind of scruffy bob style.

Unlike my usual shampoo and conditioner in one bottle regime, Clare's separate shampoo and conditioner had amazing effects on my hair, giving it extra body, a silky smoothness and a suspiciously shiny finish. I re-read the bottle to find out that this particular brand of conditioner also contained small particles of glitter. In addition to the glitter, my hair had also taken on a delicate smell of strawberries. I desperately hoped that further washing, later that weekend, would reverse these changes before I headed off to lectures on Monday morning.

Suitably smooth, shiny and fragrant, I stepped out of the shower, dried myself with the large fluffy, mint-green towel and looked on the back of the door for my robe. What I found was a white, semi-transparent, satin wrap-around robe that only came down to the tops of my knees. I immediately felt the effects of satin on smoothly shaved legs. The feel of the cool material sliding over my skin was something I had not experienced since I started secretly dressing in my early teens, back when there were no hairs to separate the nerves in the skin from the sensuous material. Unfortunately, a very unladylike reaction starting at the top of my legs.

Somewhat embarrassed by the turn of events, I walked back into the bedroom to find Clare had been busy preparing the bed and filling the room with scented candles. I walked over her, placed my hands on her hips and pulled her into my body.

"Hey! We do not have time for that," she sighed, "and we certainly do not have time of that!", pointing at the bulge in my robe. "Lie down, on your back, on the towel on the bed. Then open your robe. You need an inspection."

I lay on the towel and as I pulled the chord on my robe. It slowly opened, sensuously gliding across my chest. My nipples hardened as the cool white material practically floated over them. This did not go unnoticed by Care who smiled and repeated the process with the tip of her rose-blush-coloured nails. With a complete lack of control over how my body responded, I closed my eyes, quietly gasped and arched my back.

"Well, if this is your reaction to this, I can only imagine what you will be like over the next couple of hours!" she laughed. Now place your arms above your head. I want to see what sort of job you have done with those armpits."

I raised my arms, one hand either side of my head, as if surrendering while lay on my back.

"I said above your head! Arms straight! I hope I do not have to tie your hands in place. It may be an idea for later on, if that nipple reaction is anything to go by. I may have to do something to keep from touching yourself! she lovingly mocked.

I submissively placed my hands on the pillow, above my head, wrists crossed. A smile on my face. Clare slowly stroked her index finger along one armpit and them the other. My toes curled as I strained to remain passive to the tickling.

"Not bad. Four out of five for that effort. Now let's see the rest of your body. No more fidgeting. Keep those hands above your head!" She confirmed, with a smile, before placing her hand over the robe on my stomach and sensuously sliding the rest of the robe across off the lower half of my torso. Once again, I tensed at the sudden tingling over my body. My nipple responded once again, but more obviously, so did my penis.

"Jeff! Honestly! I really don't think we will be getting this done tonight unless you can control yourself! And what on earth do you thinks this is," pointing at my groin.

"I am sorry. I can't help it. It is all so exciting." I apologised, worried that she was going to change her mind and give up on the evening.

"Not your cock! Although, we will be doing something about that later. I mean this!" Clare pinched several pubic hairs between her thumb and finger and yanked.

I jerked up into a sitting position and yelled out in pain. "What the hell was that for!" I screamed.

"I told you not to move!" She admonished me, and while I lay back down, Clare turned and rustled through one the drawers. After removing something, that I could not see from my prone position, she turned back and grabbed my arms at the wrists. I felt something being wrapped around them and before I knew it, my hands had been tied to the headboard of the bed. Ordinarily, I might have put up a fight, but this was something new and unexpected.

"Well that should help with the fidgeting. Now let's address the more serious issue. I thought you wanted to have a girly experience. Well, you really need to learn a high level of hygiene. No self-respecting girl would have such a messy bikini-line. OK, I admit you do have surprisingly little of it, but what you do have is messy, all different lengths and all over the place. We can't have this poking around the sides of your panties! You really need a trim." She scolded me.

Clare walked back into the bathroom leaving me tied to the bed, wondering what I had got myself into. This was not what I imagined the evening would be like. I thought it was going to be hugs and tears, followed by "it's not you, it's me". Or more likely "it really is you -- you're a pervert and I never want to see you again." However, this was exciting, but certainly not what I thought Clare was into. She had certainly not given any hints in the past.

She soon returned with a bowl of warm water, soap, a flannel, scissors and a razor.

"You really must learn to keep this under control," she advised, clipping away between my legs. I just lay like a statue, fearing that any move could severely affect my future sex life. After a few minutes, she informed me that she had finished. I asked if she could untie me so I could have a look.

"Don't be silly! You may have thought for an hour or two that you were being a real girl when you were trying your sister's clothes on, but you really have no idea of the amount of effort you need to put in, even before you get anywhere near to putting on your clothes. All I have done, so far, is made sure all those straggly hairs are the same length, and more importantly, short enough to shave. Now, I suggest you keep perfectly still and stop distracting me with all this chatting, or you may take a big step towards being a girl fulltime."

With that, she used the warm water and soap to lather up my groin and proceeded to slowly shave around my cock and ball. "Now then, we aren't going to remove all the hair. I don't think you are that kind of girl. However, we need to remove all the bits outside of the panty line. It will look amazing tonight. However, in the morning, it will probably itch like mad. I feel that if you want to feel how amazing it is to be a girl, you also need to experience some of the discomfort that comes with it as well, and believe me, itchy shaving rash is the least of the things we have to go through." I began to wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much, especially as I had not even started the dressing up part.

After a few minutes of shaving, from different angles and with my legs in various different positions and angles, I felt the warm flannel wiping away the soap and remaining stray hairs, followed by a warm towel drying me off and a sweet, floral smelling cream being applied. Clare slowly massaged the soles of my feet, pressing firmly along the arches. She next moved onto my toes, stretching them and then sliding her finger between each.

Clare remarked, "We really should trim, file and paint these nails, but we don't really have the time. Plus, it would take just as long to remove it all again afterwards. Perhaps next time?"

"Hmm! So there is going to be a next time?" I thought, happily.

Next, the soothing balm was massaged into my calves, Clare's thumbs pressing along the fibres of the muscles, working their way up my leg to my knees. My legs were pressed apart, and Clare knelt between them as she massaged my thighs, slowly working their way up the inside until she reached my balls. These too were gently massaged, working soothing balm into my soft hairless skin. Ordinarily, such attention would have resulted in a raging erection, but for some reason, all I felt was an overwhelming feeling of calm and wellbeing.

Clare's thumbs then explored along the inside of my hip bones, and my tight abdominal muscles, and up to my ribcage. Further massaging and kneading of my muscles continued over my now hairless armpits and along my arms up to my wrists, still tied to the headboard. She then straddled my groin and slowly massaged the cream into my shoulders. I closed my eyes and felt all the tension from the previous week drain away. I was beginning to drift off into a sweet-smelling peaceful sleep when I felt soft delicate lips kissing my own lips.

"OK, I think we are ready for the clothes now," Clare whispered. "However, I cannot do this with your arms tied up. I will need to untie you, but you've got to promise not to touch yourself, to see what I have done down there," she instructed, pointing at my groin.

Next, Clare began to explain the next step of the evening's experience.

"When you told me about your dressing up, I went to the library to see if there was any information. You mentioned how much of your pleasure stemmed from the feel of the clothes against your skin. This agrees with some of the reports I read in the library."

(It appeared that Clare had been busy while I was away, unlike me, who mostly wallowed in my misery and fearing I was to be lonely and ridiculed for the rest of my life).

"So, to make the experience all the more sensual, I need you to wear this blindfold," handing me the silk scarf that she had used to tie my hands to the bed just a few minutes earlier.

She took my hands and pulled me onto my feet, before tying the blindfold over my eyes. "Now let's get you dressed," she whispered in my ear.

I heard a rustling of bags and then felt Clare standing next to me. "I bought you some clothes of your own. It's not very nice 'borrowing' someone else's, without permission. Plus, I don't want mine stretched or stained. I do hope you like what I got you. Of course, you are just going to have to imagine what it looks like, until we have finished."

With that, she instructed me to keep my balance by placing my hands on her shoulders, while she knelt down in front of me and telling me to raise my foot and step into my first, very own, pair of panties. First the left foot, then the right. She slowly slipped the panties past my ankles, up my calves, over my thighs and around my buttocks. I could feel a silky sensation partially covering my buttocks. The lacy edging of the panties, running from between my legs, diagonally up to my hips felt electrifying. When Clare slid the front of the panties over my cock and balls, I quickly began to get excited and the panties got tighter, cutting into the crack between my cheeks and between my thighs.

"I think we will need to do something about that, before we can go any further." Clare explained. I immediately envisioned Clare kneeling in front of me and masturbating or sucking me off until I came and the erection subsided. Confusingly, from the kitchen, I heard various doors being opened and closed. However, my hopes were raised, once again, when I felt her kneel in front of me, between my legs. I placed my hands on her shoulders, ready to keep my balance for the inevitable treat. The actual experience came as a big shock, both physically and mentally, when an intense cold engulfed my groin. My testicles immediately shrank up inside and my penis shrivelled up to just an inch or so, which Clare then pushed down and backwards between my legs.

"That is much better. No nasty male bulge now. I had better put these back. I suspect we may need to do this again soon. Mind you, I am not sure we will be cooking frozen peas, in the near future!"

She pulled me to my feet again and told me to hold my arms out in front of me. I felt straps dragging up my arm to my shoulders and then my chest was encased by a cool satin cage. I was wearing my very first bra of my own. From behind me, Clare pulled the straps to the top of my shoulders and then whispered in my ear, telling me to stand up straight, pull my shoulders back and push my chest out. She then pulled the back of the bra and connected the three hooks, before slowly adjusting the straps and sliding a finger under each to make sure that they were the correct tightness. Next, she placed her hands in both bra cups, scooped up what little flesh I had on my chest and pushed it together, before pushing the bra up slightly and trapping my little cleavage in place.

"Oh! You have cute, tiny breasts. Possibly just an A cup. You probably really need a training bra, but the one I got you is way more sexy. We need to pad it out though."

With that she placed something (stockings or socks?) in each bra cup. "There you go. A C-cup, just like me." She later admitted that she actually bought the clothes in her size, so she could use them if things did not work out between us.

So there I stood, in front of my girlfriend, in my very own bra and panties set. However, due to the blindfold, I had no idea what they looked like. I could only feel the exhilarating sensation of the bra strap gently biting into my shoulders and my upper back, along with the pressure of the bra cups hugging my chest and pushing my small pecs into a cleavage, enhanced by the addition of some other soft material. The panties were still playing havoc with my buttocks, both cutting across them and gently cupping them at the same time. The silky material shifted slightly, every time I moved my legs, caressing both my buttocks but also my cock, tucked between my thighs, trapped inside the panties.

Suddenly, I felt Clare behind me, placing her hands on my hips and, pushing me slightly forwards. Next something stretchy and lacy was passed around my waist and pulled tight. I felt my waist being pulled inwards and a strong confining lace material pressed tightly against my skin from just under my ribs to the tips of my hip bone, just above my silky panty-line. Starting at the bottom, Clare fastened numerous catches along the base of my back, up along my spine, pulling my waist in even further. I could feel my insides moving to accommodate the tightness. "There you go. Your cincher is in place," Clare explained.

"That should give you a bit more of a curvy figure," Clare explained, while pushing her hands into my panties and passing something thin and lacy, with a cold metal end, through the edges of my silky panties. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and noticed something swaying gently from side of side, over my smooth thighs.

"You need to sit down you the next part," my Clare informed me, taking my hand and gently lowering me to the edge of the bed. "Now I want you to raise one leg, straight, toes pointed down, towards me. I raised my right leg, pointing my toes down, like a ballerina and slowly raised it higher, caressing the inside of Clare's thigh and until it reached Clare's panties.

"Behave yourself! Or I will stop this, and you can go back to wearing your boy clothes." Clare admonished me.

I reluctantly pulled my foot back, but left it stretched out in front of me. Clare took hold of my foot and placed it on what felt like her thigh. Next, I felt a stretchy, silky material enveloping my toes. Clare's hands cupped my foot as the material was slid further along my foot, to the heel. At this point Clare made some adjustments, twisting the material and making it fit squarely on my foot. "Stockings or tights?" I wondered absently.