A Sudden Change

Notice

This story contains sexual acts and all involved people were over 18 years of age. Furthermore, actions are described in the context of BDSM & urinating & analsex & oralsex. Please do not read if you are repulsed or not interested. The same applies to homosexual acts and the use of degrading words.

Most important note, I am not a native English. I'm of natural descent from Central Europe. The linguistic affection for English only arose through traveling. Please have patience and understanding for my bad grammar, spelling and sentence structure. I tried very hard and also used translation services, but each of these electronic helpers has different suggestions, for the same one sentence.

Unfortunately, I don't know any Proof Reader.

Last but not least. This is a real story, it happened to me. I compressed the timeline and changed a few minor details.

The names of the people have been changed for security reasons. Except Franziska is franziska and I'm still wearing back buttoned Victorian blouses

And thank you

WaxPhilosophic - https://literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=3646486 -

for exposing your Art of writing to me and explaining some important stuff about writing. Namaste

....................................................................................

A sudden change of priorities

Springtime 1987, thats where i start. Crossdressing in the closet and starting to collect useful clothes. It was a step by step experience, as i was terribly shy and not even having an idea, how to move on. But that uncomfortable inner pulling tore me nearly apart, so i had to give in and started crossdressing.

I bought some print magazines, in an adult bookstore, related to abnormal sexual behavior and already this "simple" task, was thrilling. The magazines offered knowledge related to my being.. The description varied between pansy, faggot, transvestite. This was a start, placing myself in a category.

Since years I always admired cute dressed girls, like wearing ruffle lace taffeta outfits and I envied those girls. Have you ever heard a girl, in a taffeta outfit? Yes, exactly, heard, because taffeta rustles when walking. There's something about that swish-swish your ear tunes into, long before the object of your affection catches your eye. Its like a magnetic pull, swish-swish, holds your attention. Had you ever had the contact, as taffeta feels just different. Its kind of cool to your skin, exotic.

Total difference to the original 80's lace blouses, the scratching lace is highly erotic, especially to nipples. Harden them immediately.

And listen, now, swish-swish, oh there, she is back, don't stare just catch a glimpse.

My preferences, which concerned the feminine dressing, had have a solid foundation — Victorian blouses with big puff sleeves, over boarding lace and ruffles, very high stand-up collar and absolutely important, back buttoned. Those buttons down the back have been extremely stimulating for me, still are. This stimulation was bound to one idea, being helpless buttoned in a victorian blouse and quickly changing the style, in case of being exposed, wouldn't be possible.

In addition to extraordinary fashion in the 80's, hair styling was popular, with crazy styles. For example a bob or wedge cut with the smallest perm curls and shaved neck. Perms in every kind of shape and cut, for women and men. Long or short hair, extreme colors, the crazier the better. Fortunately, woman as man wore such hairstyle's, but mostly the soft androgynous boys wore permed colored hairstylings.

So this was a perfect timing, the 80's fitting in my preferences, to start the transformation into a fag, could not had fit better. Finally, renting a small apartment in my early 20s, I was able creating the real other ME. The faggot.

That was the general idea, but it also took the courage to go to stores and buy the things i desired and finally going to a hairdresser, en femme. The final process, a permed bob.

I lacked pretty much everything, power, courage, coolness, relaxation, eloquence — just shopping for my perverted fantasy was thrilling.

So it took a real long time until I finally bought the needed equipment like shoes, tights, skirts, blouses, make-up and other items. Just for the record - 1986 the commodore C64 was the only personal computer, pricey and the www wasn't existing. Without the Internet, every shopping trip was an ordeal.

Personal contact while buying girls lace ruffle blouses, being shy, constructed a terrible combination and pressure, until the greed won over. The reward afterwards, was extraordinary, every time.

Reward, modeling the new clothes in front of the mirror and vigorous rubbing my clitty. The clitty tightly compressed under the pantyhose or even better under those body forming panties. Rubbing it, until it squirted off a bit cream, seconds later. This was definitely one of the problems with my sexuality and girls, my little clitty squirted easily quickly and tiniest amounts of sperm. Humiliating equipment.

The first months crossdressing was of course always "in the closet", behind closed curtains. Gather empirical values which type of material caused me arousal, took months. So i started buying only very specific styles and materials. Reward winner, franziska.

Rubbing the clitty wasn't satisfying anymore or in other terms, normal. At some point, the courage overcame the fear and in the middle of the night, the first excursion took place. Heartbeat over 200, blood pressure close bursting the arterial system. Fear, panic at every little noise, but i made it happen, wow fabulous . These trips became more regular and me, getting bolder. Unfolded events of outings have been close, near happen.

Practice, being in public and not really noticed, turned into a new developed greed, adding the fantasy haircutting. Then finally the first hairdresser visit was planned, about a year later, after i bought my first blouse. The coming out was a desired, devilish process and this special selected hairdresser, would be my destination, for this process. Scheduled at a late winter evening day, so darkness would cover this faggot.

This first trip was just a bit out of the ordinary.

I observed different salons, to find the best fitting salon. The one with a minimum humiliating and outing to others. A secluded shop and parking lots close to. And the hairdresser, she was so beautiful and always smiling. She was wearing only skirts and even sometimes back button tops. Just spying through the window was enough, to let my heart beat wildly.

Yes my fear penetrated me awfully, with wild scenarios. Exposing was a monster. My first perming, that make over, would take place some months later.

Today, just haircutting and this included the first active contact, with another person. And omg i was so scared, embarrassed. Stepping over the threshold panic gripped me. I was still holding the door-handle, the cute hairdresser appeared and ushered me in. She greeted me, introducing herself named Martina. Taking my hand, smiling, she guided me in the mens waiting area.

Three other men sat there and now me too. I started shaking and couldn't stop. One man took my hand, squeezed my hand in a kind manner and smiled. We sat for about ten minutes, holding hands, until it was his call as next customer. Unbelievable, this had calmed my nerves. A man!

I had my head bowed, staring at the ground, trying hard to stay calm. Out of thin air, Martina touched my chin and lifted my head. This bright SMILE, those bright green eyes.. Oh god the sweet aroma hitting my nose, sweet scent. I was lost.

Martina, Taking my hand, walking me over and now sitting in this comfy salon chair, covered with the cape, my throat was dry. Speaking about the haircut, trying to explain it Martina, i sounded squeaky. Humiliation.

My clitty wasn't even getting hard but horrible excited, that it shot a tiny sperm load. Now all my courage was drained because horniness was the courages fuel. The inner humiliating took over. But already caped, i could not run. The wetness slowly spreading between my legs and making me damn uncomfortable, squirming.

Now the haircut was just beginning, Martina chatting happily away and i couldn't even look into the mirror, getting nauseous, watching this pervert sitting in this chair. You know about feeling uncomfortable in awkward situations. Starting sweating, a water Film covering the hands, heart beats like a pro sport activist, oh hand shaking is nice unknown body action and this bloody wetness between my legs - dont ask about anything, i have not a single second knowledge. Just bright green eyes and smile.

Driving home, was horrible, still shaking, now smelling my sperm stench. Hell on earth, the devil kicked my ass.

Back in my apartment, this bloody clitty was again, so excited and was squirting again, just as i locked the apartment door behind me.

Months later, the hairdresser confessed, that she acknowledged the situation, that i got a orgasm and found it cute.

We established a tight bound. Martina accompanied me about 20 years, in which I went as a fag to this salon, getting permed and dolled up.

Trimmings, precisely just cutting a quarter inch of the ends, it was the usual for my salon visits.

Getting more comfortable with the perverted Transvestite, me, i called the salon and asked for an appointment. A appointment for the very first time. Startled Martina asked why and my dry throat just left one word - perm. Silence, then "are you sure" and she added "wow, yes that would be a milestone in your transformation. If a transvestite got the balls ". She laughed out loud and apologized.

A Transvestite and balls! Yeah i got it. So the appointment was set for late Friday. Nervousness was not the right term to describe my being, for the next days. Never ending story thoughts, in permanent replay, about a humiliated transvestite. Maybe some ball's would be helpful. 😂

A dramatic problem appeared as a real predicament and occurred Friday morning. I had to leave the apartment in bright fully 'headlight' (sun) on me, around 2 pm, spring time. This Friday half days workday, was hell.

Back home getting dressed and ready with shaking hands, was chaotic. Ever tried to button a blouse at the back, with shaking hands. It would made it to the funniest home videos. Nerves calmed a bit, getting my shit together,

Ok lets go. I open the door just a crack and spying for moves or noises. Standing already outside on my landing, big step. Congrats, oh what a sissy this 'man' is. Still standing on the third floor platform, key still in the keyhole, for speedy vanishing, waiting. No damn, thats not funny, Yeah im not naked BUT. Now Walking down the stairs listen to every noise, i made it down to the entrance hall. Peeking again out the front door, watching an waiting. Bingo, perfect moment and then kind of hurrying to my car, with heels, a neck breaking task. I made it. Oh, i forgot ..... Breathing

Arriving at the salon, nearly one hour before my appointed time, hands still shaking. Exposing myself or risking it , was still draining my energy.

Daylight and my feminized me was exhilarating. Taking some minutes regaining some strength, i entered the salon. The salon was filled with customers, one woman in a separate secluded area, eyeing me with a disgusted stare and two men in the other waiting area.

I had to place myself between the two men. This disgusted stare broke my confidence, taking a seat and bowing my head, was best decision. Yes i had a similar experience before, but i wasn't used to this humiliation yet. But then, why i had to do it? All in all, it was horrible waiting and knowing, that the others judging me. The man to my left was next in the chair. I considered moving, before i made up my mind, the man next to me started a conversation.

Starting with simple stuff, moving to compliments and getting quite nosy. Short into the conversation he asked me, why i dressed like a woman, if i loved it and if being a woman meant, that i was submissive sexually, to man too. I was shocked, and he smiled. Knowing about the impact, his statement delivered. Then he placed his hand on my thigh, his thumb moving up and down. My brain froze as well my body too. Now his breath was hot next to my ear and he hoarsely confessed that i looked sexy, good to fuck. The lady boss watched us in this intimidated moment. Smiling she asked him to come over, for his haircut. But he was not just leaving, instead he again whispered in my ear, asking to meet him later.

NO would have been a good and only answer, but nothing left my lips.

I was still frightened, paralyzed. This man crawled underneath my skin, but in a terrible, repulsing manner. God what had i gotten myself into? Now it was my call.

Martina had witnessed my encounter as well. Before starting the make over at all, she needed details, what had happen between the man and me. Bowing my head humiliated, i told her all about this monolog. Her hand touched my chin, lifting my head. Bright green eyes and a heart filling smile, i melted. She just told me,

Martina

"you turning already men's heads and not had your make over done."

Smiling Martina asked me, to trust her for a real make over, she had in mind. The sentence frightened me, but her smile shattered that fright into pieces and so i agreed, just nodding. She now explained the whole process and the approximated time.

A perming demands a lot of work and time. Washing hair, inserting the perm rods , chemical treatment takes one hour, hair care and moisturizing, cutting hair. So about 3 hours time to talk with Martina. Time to forget thinking about this old man who may wait outside. Here i was sitting for my first perm procedure.

Martina was all smiling, talking and squeezed all my secrets out of me. Out of the blue she asked me, for my girly name. I had never thought about before and so i was clueless. Since she knew my given name, it didn't took her long and then her decision was made, "Franziska". I call you from now on franziska. Martina, had named me and honestly I liked the name. Close to my given name and very femme.

The real make over started with a shock. Martina had until today, only trimmed the ends. My hair was still long, ending in the middle of my back. Martina used the clear plastic cape, as this was water and chemical resistant. Stating, now she could closely watch, the cute doll underneath and the wandering hands. I blushed humiliated, getting aware her connections about my wandering hands and my first time in her chair, squeezing my clitty.

The cape placed, she washed my hair and now brushed it straight out. My vision was blocked now and the cutting started. It was kind of strange, the cutting noise was close to my ears. This metallic sound, shnick shnick, from the scissor. Then my vision blocking curtain fell, substituted with a straight cut at eyebrow level. The rest had been cut straight at chin level. Mouth agape i sat staring at my mirrored image. Martina giggled and now her bubbly nature took the lead.

The lady boss strode close and stated smugness, that this haircut was long due. Martina smiled and explained her make over idea, which was accompanied by a smile from the boss. The boss was leaving and so it was just us in the salon. I was shocked , so much hair lying on the floor.

Martina turned the chair, took my head in her hands and 'bright eyes" no fear. She kissed me tenderly on my lips, smiling, turned the chair and started winding the perm rods tightly. Confusion, loosing that much hair length and this kiss. This Kiss!

This pulling and winding, tighten the perm rods, was taking time, Martina all the while talking and smiling. Best decision ever, choosing this salon. She was so adorable, so cute, so lovely.

Rotten eggs, the perm solution added, a plastic head hood added, the stench was unbearable. The perming process took 50 minutes. Fair statement, i got used to my rotten eggs, quick. Washing my hair, now a neutralizer processed the curls new form. I got a first look and the hair was now even shorter then before. Martina pointed at my fringe and called it "little girls bangs or dolls bangs". It looked cute, but so adorable cute, girly cute, but I'm a m..... , oh.

To my horror Martina started now cutting my hair, shorter, the curls tightened even more and so the hairstyle got pretty short, fluffy. Done with the cutting, she announced, me looking down at a covered cape, full of tiny curls. Air drying is best for a perfect doll like, hairdo.

As special, she cleaned my face and applying a new beautiful looking make-up. Nothing fancy. I was mesmerized by my looks. Watching me closely or better this beautiful face in the mirror, out of the subconscious I asked, if we want to go out, two cute looking girls. It meant to be a joke, never an intended question. She laughed out loud. I acknowledged my Faux-pas blushing deep red and starting apologizing. But she just hugged me, smiling.

Still smiling she ask, if i wouldn't prefer being accompanied by the Gentleman, the older, outside waiting, man. Shaking my head like crazy, omg NO. Martina checked the salon parking space for me and after her clearance, that nobody waited outside, she invited me to the coffee shop. A little later Martina and i were sitting in cute little coffee shop. I was a girl, i could not believe it. Hiding my hands shaking, i was nervous and yes we got looked up, but not in a weird style. Everyone, customers or the waitress addressed or saw me as girl, this was thrilling, Enchanting.

After all the conversations which we had in the salon and then in the coffee house, she suddenly said:

Martina

"It was fun talking about your date with the older Gentleman, mr. Steiner and his honorable ideas, with you, franziska. So wouldn't you had loved sitting here with him, honestly, instead of me? Oh, look how cute, you blushing again. You love the idea don't you and may next time you will sitting here with him and he may kiss you.

Like a girl's dream come true.

Relax sweetie. You are so cute Franziska. Men coming strongly onto you, isn't nothing to worry about. You are pretty. Those pretty blouse so extremely feminine, all the way buttoned down at the back with lots of ruffles and lace, the pleated skirt in addition, fine pantyhose, so ultra feminine altogether.

And now finally these sweet little curls, matching the short-cut bob with these extreme short baby bangs, all together just a very well-behaved chaste submissively feminine girl.

Men getting aware of pretty dolls, because those are mostly docile und submissive. So get used to it!

Change of topic.

You told me that you don't really enjoy your job. You said, you're fascinated about creative work, like being a hairdresser, because of the more laid back atmosphere. So why not do an apprenticeship. You can certainly do that as the girl, as the pansy, as the faggot you are and I have the idea where you could do the training. The place i was a apprentice too. Sounds interesting? I was thinking about this, since we talked about this topic, in the salon and a apprenticeship with Master Heinz sprung into mind. Think about it. Just have to visit the pipi box. Back in a moment."

I was fascinated by her statement and just thinking about. Whereupon she was standing beside me, took my hand and said:

Martina

"Come, no better time then the present, let me drive us over. It's not so far, to not giving it a try. Im sure Master Heinz is still in the salon."

She then drove us to the next village. After a short walk we stood in front of a salon, a men's salon. I must have been shocked, for sure, she just smiled and pulled me inside to the front door. There he stood, the master, a good head taller than me, bald, thick and oozing dominance. So intimidating. Martina curtsied dutifully before him and lowered her head, then she spoke to him: