Worse was yet to come, though. Vince pulled out another shoe box and proudly opened it as if I would be delighted by his gift. He pulled the tissue paper aside to display what can only be called 'fuck me pumps'. They were pink suede platform shoes, with a bow on the side and heels that were at least 5 inches high.
"Aren't they sexy, Brianna?" Kent said. "Vince is really trying to make this easy for you. I'm sure that once you get the hang of walking in these, just putting them on will make you feel like an incredibly sexy woman. Right?"
It wasn't right, but he went on. "And, when you feel like a sexy woman, there's nothing you'll want more than to fall to your knees and suck a hard cock."
The shoes weren't all that Vince had bought. Obviously, he'd found a store that caters to transvestites. He pulled out item after item designed to feminize and humiliate me. There were breastforms, a couple of wigs—one blonde, one curly brown—and lots of lingerie. Ann's didn't really fit me very well and, besides, it looked like Vince had a taste for things that were more risque than what Ann had at the cabin.
"You did great, Vince," Kent said. "I'm sure Brianna is delighted—so delighted that she doesn't know what to say. But I know she'll love trying on all of these things. ... And, I'm sure they'll make her look and feel much more feminine. I can hardly wait to see her in them."
Vince and Kent decided that they shouldn't have to wait long. They also decided that I couldn't be trusted to handle my more advanced feminization on my own. The afternoon was spent in Kent's room with both Vince and Kent serving as my dressers and make-up artists.
About half the time when they were working on me, they ignored me as if I wasn't even there. I was just an object for them to work on—a project. The other half, they went into their banter that was based on the pretense that I was loving what was happening.
"Don't you just love this, Brianna?" they'd say as the pulled out the various items of clothing.
When they'd glued the breasforms on my chest and fastened the lacey lavender bra over them, Vince said, "Wow, Brianna! Look at your rack. You're going to have men cumming at the sight of you."
When they had the blonde wig on my makeup done, and my lips my glossed with deep red lipstick, Kent added, "Look at yourself; you look so pretty. You're going to make all the guys want to blow their load in your sweet little mouth."
I liked it better when they just treated me like an inanimate object.
They had me put on a very tight, low-cut cashmere pullover sweater and a very tight, short skirt. It barely covered the tops of my stockings. When I sat down, the straps from my garter showed. They didn't mind. They were aiming for crass, not class, and they were hitting their target.
And, finally it was time for the shoes. Fortunately, they asked me to try on the black ones, not the pink "fuck me pumps". I didn't think I'd ever be able to walk in those.
The black pumps were bad enough. I almost fell over when I stood up. When, at their insistence, I took a few steps, my ankles wobbled like crazy. How the hell did women do this? And, they made it look easy. They made it look sexy. I just looked like a newborn colt trying to stand on its own legs for the first time.
"Go look at yourself in the mirror, Brianna. You'll like what you see."
