Magic Dress - Felicity Pt. 04

CHAPTER 6

Heather was away early to catch the light. I breakfasted with Carol and we all met up at ten. I had a lovely day and a not so lovely evening. One of the nicest features of the day was just being a woman and not thinking about it (if that makes sense). We did the obligatory tourist things, and Carol told us dates and historical facts which we said were interesting and immediately forgot. At the Roman amphitheatre we met the photographers packing up to leave, so I got a quick kiss from Heather. The military museum made me feel a bit uncomfortable with all those weapons, and I wasn't the only one, so we cut short our visit and went to a teashop. We didn't have lunch, but took an afternoon cream tea when it was less crowded. And we poked in shops and chatted and had a lovely leisure time.

Tired feet and architecture overload drove us back to the hotel for (in my case, and I suspect the others) a nap and a shower before dinner, where we were joined by Horace and Heather who were politely interested, but really wanted to discuss photography. I knew Heather would be buried in her laptop for the rest of the evening, so said I would hang around with the girls, and she was grateful.

After dinner we had drinks and chatted. The subject of men and their faults was amusing (and very true), but then moved to sex. It seemed that I was the only one not being regularly fucked by a man (or men) which was described with gusto. Carol of course was married to Horace, so that was given, and she was very discreet apart from saying that she was a wife in every way. The oldest couple went dancing every week and had male partners who joined them for "horizontal activities" afterwards. They swapped between them constantly as one was a much better dancer and the other was "much better endowed" (cue wink and smirk). The middle aged couple had had many sexual adventures and the youngest couple went out "on the pull" together.

I got hot and bothered and excused myself to the toilet for a bit of a snivel. Carol came in and said "It's all right, it's early days yet. I'm sure you'll find a nice man soon enough."

This brought me to full floods. "I don't want a nice man!" I sobbed. "I don't want anyone. I've got someone: I've got Heather! And I love her more than anything in the world!"

"Uh-oh. Foot in mouth time," said Carol, hugging me. "I'm so, sorry. I should have realised. They're probably just boasting. They're weekend women like you, men most of the time. Getting away like this to be a woman all day is a holiday, and why not spice it up with a bit of fantasy? I'm not convinced they would have the confidence to do all they say, though I don't judge them."

"Just understand we're all people, which means all sorts and most of it foolish. The truth is most tgirls just want to be a woman and accepted as such. For some sex is important, of course. There are many more who are happy without it. Just do what is right for you."

I had calmed down to snivelling, so asked her to give my apologies to the others and say I was having an early night with a headache. I adjusted my makeup just enough so that I could sneak back to our room, where Heather quickly closed her laptop and came and hugged me as I tried to explain.

That went wrong as well. I told her how the others had upset me by talking about having sex with men, and she said "Poor baby! Let's get Mr Cock to put everything right."

I stamped my foot. I actually stamped my foot! And said in a voice which could probably be heard outside (and made me feel embarrassed afterwards) "I don't want Mr Cock! I don't want to be fucked! I just want you to come to bed and hold me!"

Clothes abandoned on the floor, we were naked in bed and she kissed my tears till I calmed down. Nothing sexual happened, which was actually perfect lovemaking in a way, and I fell asleep. I awoke later to see Heather putting the clothes away, so got up, cleaned off my makeup and had a shower. As we were awake, she showed me a few of the pictures she had taken, which were of course very good. It was a good distraction before we got our night clothes on and went back to bed as normal.

CHAPTER 7

In the morning, Heather was away early but we had made arrangements. Apparently the photography tour would finish about 2 p.m., and the other participants would depart, but Horace had invited her home to see his studio setup, and had booked a professional model for a glamour shoot. They would have dinner and she would come back to the hotel later. However, there was a dance at the university Students Union, and Carol offered to take any of us who wanted there. The place was bound to be LGBT+ friendly.

Heather said that she had first seen Felicity when she was dancing, so it was time I did it properly. She had been collecting interesting garments from charity shops for possible photos, including a green dress which she thought might suit and was on the right of the wardrobe, but I should dress however I wanted. There was also a jacket, not meant for it but which would go, and I realised would disguise my masculine shoulders.

After another day around the city, with rather more chat and teashops and less architecture, we went back to our rooms for a nap and refresh. I showered, did my makeup (party and special occasion) and nails, put on my gaff, tights and big boobs and admired myself in the mirror. I was thinking of the skirt and blouse, but supposed I might as well try the dress.

I had it half on when I suddenly realised it was not right and took it off quickly. I immediately told myself why: my bust was too large for the top; I wouldn't need a gaff because of the way the skirt was flared; and it would be better for dancing. However, even later I thought that these were rationalizations: it was almost as if the dress had told me No! (which was silly, of course).

I put on my smaller (artistic) breast forms and bra, and some nice lacy knickers and tried again. This time it was as if the dress said Yes! (which was even sillier). But I put on my wig and tights and looked in the mirror. There was a beautiful woman, who would look even better if her mouth wasn't open so much. I closed it. High heels made perfection. The jacket was more than acceptable.

Somehow I had a feeling inside of absolute femininity. I don't mean sexy, just womanliness. And this was my inner Felicity - real happiness. Somehow I pulled myself away from the mirror and went down to the lobby. Walking in heels was easier and more natural than ever before.

I strolled around casually, enjoying the feel of the dress as I did, and just feeling content. Eventually Carol came down, also dressed up. Her eyebrows went up as she saw me walking towards her cheerfully.

"Felicity, you look gorgeous!" she said.

"Thank you," I said, making a small curtsey (when did I learn to do that?). "You look lovely too, Carol." We touch kissed, being careful of our makeup.

We were joined by the young and the middle-aged couple and took a taxi. I guess the oldsters were more into ballroom dancing.

The Students Union was as welcoming as promised, with a band, not just a DJ. What I took to be some gays and lesbians were being very proud about the fact, and I think there were a few more tgirls, but who's counting and who cares? My jacket was soon too hot, so I took it off and danced. Danced! It was of course that general melee sort of dancing where you don't have to be doing it with anyone in particular, but we were pleased when some boys came and danced with us. The young couple may not have been boasting, as they went off with two, and came back quite some time later. I was even more impressed when they went off with another two and didn't return at all.

I say boys, of course, because many of them were undergraduates. A rather older one (a postgraduate, I guess) stayed around me towards the end of the evening. The announcer then asked for a round of applause for the band, before the last waltz. I turned to go away, when this good looking young man took my hand, and said in my ear "I'm Peter. May I have the pleasure?"

"I'm Felicity," I answered. "Thanks, but I don't know how to waltz."

"Of course you do," he said as the music started, putting his hand on my waist and starting to lead me. Somehow I managed to follow him, and then I was enjoying this quintessential female experience of being taken around the dance floor by a gentleman.

As the music finished he took me in his arms and kissed me politely on the lips. I will never forget that moment. "Thank you so much," he said.

"Thanks," I whispered, then Carol grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I never saw him again, but I often wonder who he was and how he got on later.

Back in the hotel both Heather and I were eager to tell of our day. But as I stood there, all sweaty and with my mascara running a little and my tights a bit wrinkled but beaming fit to bust, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. (My beam, I suppose.)

"My god! You look amazing! What on earth have you been up to?" So I told her.

She hurried to get Mr Cock and her harness. For some reason I did not object, and obediently pulled off my tights and panties and went on my hands and knees on the bed. Mr Cock went in easily, and being filled up seemed so right.

"This is me, Heather, in you now. It is me fucking you and loving you." Which made it all right. I did not want a man, but I wanted to be fucked and I wanted her. It was beautiful, and I came, shooting and shooting: a tremendous orgasm and I loved Heather.

Afterward I started to apologise, though we both knew it wasn't necessary. "You can come every day, providing you do it with me," she said.

Of more concern was the fact that I had come on what we began to call the magic dress. We washed it with cold water, but a mark was still visible. When we got back home we took it to dry cleaners opposite the university. The woman behind the counter asked what had caused the stain, and I hmm'd and ha'd, but Heather said "Seminal fluid".

"We get a lot of that," said the woman. "No problem." And indeed it came back good as new.

Back to that wonderful evening. Heather showed me a few (of about a thousand, it seemed!) of the pictures she had taken at Horace's. All were in colour, which could be removed later, and showed an exceptionally beautiful young woman nude, draped and in clothes in various poses. Heather said she had learned so much.

But there was something else. When the model had finished and gone, Heather had posed nude and Horace had taken pictures with her cameras. She said she was glad that I had helped her to lose weight, and was quite proud. I said she should be, and it was not only Horace's skills that were the reason.

In the morning we were due to leave, but we slept quite late, and Heather asked if the hotel if we could stay another night.

As promised, I traipsed around and stood where she told me, and looked where she said, but it was mainly done quite quickly, just for reference. Some people stared at us, but I didn't care. I was wearing the magic dress which Heather said was just what she wanted for her model pictures. The semen stain was not very obvious and Heather said it could easily be removed in the computer.

We covered a lot of ground (fortified by a cream tea in the middle and use of the teashop's toilet) until Heather had enough to make a plan for the next day. This included, of course, the direction of sunlight at different times.

That evening I suggested that it was about time Graham made love to her, but she refused.

"No. I shall really appreciate shagging Graham when I get back, but for now I am very happy on my holiday with Felicity. I hope my husband will let me have some more time with her."

So she fucked (or shagged) me. I did not come, but it was lovely all the same. Heather had to work on plans which took up all her evening. I put on another dress and braved the bus, walked around a bit and came back. Out on my own!

We packed and had an early night so that we could get up and out before the crowds. We signed out, but left our bags, and took a taxi to the Roman amphitheatre. I was wearing my stick-on boobs but no bra (we had one with us in case), no knickers (again we had some), push-up stockings and the magic dress, with a cardigan and coat. I was wearing flats, but carrying high heels. It was Horace's tip that the model should not wear knickers, and I was sort of excited by the risk. Essentially, Heather wanted me in nothing but the dress. The stockings were for warmth but I would take them off to have bare legs. I could do this without being as revealing as if I wore tights. I was cold, but this had the advantage that my genitals shrivelled up and hid.

I put on heels, but Heather immediately decided that bare feet would be best. I posed as instructed all over the site. When we thought we were really clear of viewers, I pulled down my dress to expose a nipple, and even exposed both. I also put my foot on a stone and pulled the skirt up dangerously high, so that my lack of underwear was visible in one direction, which the viewer of the photograph might realise. I dropped it down as soon as someone approached the vantage point.

Heather had worked out a route so that we would not have to walk too far to the next position, which also considered the direction of the sun at the time, and we worked our way along this. Tea and toilet stops were included. I was very conscious of my lack of knickers when we sat down, so was careful in choosing a seat. Heather asked permission and took some pictures of me in one tea shop, with shoes and stockings, quite demure and avoiding showing the faces of other customers of course, which she demonstrated on the camera to the shop staff.

However, we mostly did what we had done at the amphitheatre. We went on the walls of course, and I posed against towers, or with the camera looking down towards the city. Often I had my back to the camera, or was largely turned away. In very few was I looking towards it. At one point on the wall I lifted my skirt to expose myself to the forest while Heather took a picture from the side. I posed against various historic buildings, sometimes standing very still for a long exposure to blur the moving people behind me. In a couple of places I was able to show a nipple, unknown to the people behind me. Horace was actually right about me not wearing knickers. It gave that little frisson of fear to know that I could be severely embarrassed at any moment, and probably affected my face and stance. Heather said it also excited her and made her more daring as a photographer.

Back to the hotel where I went immediately to the toilet to put on bra and knickers. We had a cup of tea and Heather drove us home. Considering how little I had previously been out as a woman, just travelling as one was a major step, though now I took it in my stride.

CHAPTER 8

Back home the dress was put on a hangar and promised a trip to the dry cleaner's. We showered and Graham made love at last.

It was back to work as Graham but usually Felicity in the evening. However Graham stays as Graham on alternate nights until he has fucked Heather. I did most of the cooking and chores for a couple of weeks to give Heather free time to work on her pictures. I was confident enough to go out on my own a little, even without the magic dress, now I had discovered the trick.

She eventually made a set which was entitled "The Dress" which was of course me in different scenes. One was monochrome for everything but The Dress which was green similar to its natural colour. One had me facing a wall, so you only saw me from the back, the green dress contrasting with the sunlit wall of old red bricks. Part of my face was sometimes visible, but with shadows and turning away I could not be recognised, and certainly could be mistaken for a woman. Heather said that the angles and poses did most of the work, but she had made some minor adjustments, particularly in the one against the wall where my shoulders had been slightly narrowed and sloped, and my hips made a little bit wider. Nothing that was not regularly done with pictures of women, and not cheating. Although I did not have the expertise, I could see that it was a clever set. All the pictures were different in style but linked by the dress and went together. She submitted them to the Royal Photographic Society, and was awarded the higher grade of membership with letters she could put after her name.

These sets are put online (as small images) by the society, and were noticed by the editor of one of the art photographic magazine, who asked permission to publish some. The one against the wall became the cover photo! Inside was an article including a picture from the amphitheatre and the one from the teashop. Heather was praised as a promising photographer, and they said they hoped to see more of this striking new model. It also gave a mention to Chester and the local photographic society.

Horace sent us some copies of the local newspaper, which had picked up on the story, and the tourist board decided to use it for some publicity. They paid (not very much) to be allowed to make the wall picture into a poster and postcard, and now apparently tourists go and have themselves photographed facing the same wall! The story developed in little ways. A man said he had been walking his dog near the amphitheatre and had been moved by my strange beauty. Others remembered me in places where I had never been. The teashop said I was a regular customer and a great favourite, but they would not reveal my name. The military museum said how moved I was by the displays and stayed there for several hours, walking in bare feet and discussing them. Horace as the president of the local society confirmed I was a Cheshire girl, but very private, though he expected there would be more pictures. He also said the society welcomed new members and mentioned glamour photography.

Heather also had some success with her architectural pictures in regional competitions, and Horace's nude model got her second prize in one. She also continued to work with me, and produced a picture of Graham and Felicity as if dancing together on stage. Felicity is in the magic dress of course and Graham is several inches taller and obviously stronger. Horace is the only person we have shown it to, and he said it was funny, touching and beautiful.

So now Graham fucks Heather three times a week and Heather shags Felicity three times a week. Sunday is optional and is sometimes both. I am happy at work and home, and Heather is working on a portfolio called 'Felicity'.