Shop Till You Drop 3

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The conclusion to the Shop Till You Drop trilogy. James is pulled deeper into Jamie, and finds she has a talent for forced feminization.

Shop Till You Drop 3
By Shawna Stimple

It was a beautiful morning as James Sanders made his way up to the school, but he couldn't be bothered to notice. He was too worried about his recently blonded hair becoming the talk in everyone’s mouth. How hard he hoped not to find himself in a situation that demanded the removal of his black ski cap, which the young man had seriously considered gluing to his head. Wearing clothes that were less than comfortable, as they had been “donated” by that bully Frank last weekend, the lad made sure his belt was tight enough to keep the rather huge pants around his waist, high enough so that no one got a look at the lacy pink panties he sported underneath.

As he sat at his desk awaiting the morning bell, dreading the moment when a comment was made about his not exactly masculine eyebrows, his attention was pulled towards the door, where a new beauty had entered the class. It seemed that Francine was making another appearance, dressed in a pink sweater set and black capris. The newcomer gingerly tiptoed to the desk, in a pair of simple black ballet flats. “She” looked gorgeous with her straight do, with bangs sweeping so gently to the side, accented by the pearl studs adorning her ears. The immaculate and tasteful makeup could do nothing to hide the natural blush gracing her cheeks. It looked like Frank the bully definitely wasn't going to be a problem anymore.

James did his best to hold back a chuckle, reveling in the only victory he felt he'd had in the past few weeks. As the feminized oppressor crossed the classroom clutching a little pink shoulder bag, James realized that he took great pleasure in his part, that resulted in the embarrassed maiden before him, not just because very little attention would be directed his way today, but he also really liked the idea of taking one of the biggest assholes in his life, and turning him into what appeared to be a helpless young woman.

That afternoon, as James unlocked the door, he dreaded having to get ready for work. Having entered the room, he couldn't help but notice Carl, his sister’s lazy-ass boyfriend, passed out on the couch. He'd obviously been drinking heavily and Melody couldn’t be bothered to wake him up before leaving to work. It was common occurrence. James' mom wasn't usually home, instead working overtime to provide for her children. Melody’s new job had lightened some of the strain, but the restless breadwinner was starting to think about retirement. Speaking of Melody, she had been a good sport since James' shopping misadventure, including the aftermath that left him dressing as a pretty blonde girl in the afternoons, and working in the women and junior’s department at MacArthur's. Despite still believing he deserved his fate, his sister did her best to help him with his hair, and teach James everything he’d need to know until he received his first paycheck and could afford his new wardrobe.

Carl was a different story. Already one of his worst tormentors, the day James arrived in his new outfit saw Carl become relentless. He’d call James “Fag!” or “Princess!” nonstop. Commenting on how his fellow man would make a wonderful housewife one day. It was funny how sexist his views were, considering he hadn't worked in the three years Melody had been dating him. He always had excuses. “I can't get a job because I don't have any nice clothes to wear in an interview, and I'd need a job to afford nice clothes.” Melody knew he was a bad egg, but for some reason loved him anyway. She just wished for a way to control him.

James finished getting ready; Jamie was ready to walk out the door. He tried not to get into his bubbly salesgirl character right away, but it was hard not to, teetering around in three inch pink pumps, underneath a form fitting black sheath, alongside a pink beaded necklace with matching stud earrings. Gone was the messy hat hair, replaced by perfectly straightened blonde locks with side swept bangs, crowning a meticulously made up face emphasized by long lashes, and a subdued coral lip gloss. Whether he liked it or not, Jamie was here, and she would be for a while.

Reaching inside her purse, Jamie retrieved a pink polka dotted phone, and realized there was an hour and a half left before work began. “I'm getting too good at this.” she thought, absent mindedly admiring her nails. She was surprised no one at school noticed them, but just assumed it was all thanks to Francine’s appearance. “I feel kind of bad for Frank, but I guess he does deserve it…I guess I do too.”, she thought, before looking across at the passed out drunkard on the couch.

“…If Frank and I deserve it, this asshole definitely does!”

Work began swiftly, as Jamie cut off all of Carl's clothes, stripping him down to nothing. Gently, she placed a pillow over his privates before sliding towels under his legs and torso, ready to run at the first sign of Carl stirring. After the application of Nair (and its removal with a damp wash cloth), it was clear Carl wouldn't have woken up if the house suddenly flipped upside down. Once the eyebrow tweezing started, Carl occasionally swat at the invisible mosquitoes biting at his forehead, but Jamie became very adept at dodging his smelly hands and quickly resuming her labor.

After dressing him in a simple black bra and panty set (with stuffing in the right places), she worked a pair of tan panty hose over his legs. Coming next was quite the professional knee length black dress, with white piping on the sweetheart neckline, the cap sleeves, and the scalloped hem. A white ladies’ dress jacket was placed on the top. Jamie was quite grateful that Melody and her boyfriend were so close in size. He even fit into her two inch black peep toed pumps no problem.

The makeup kept with the professional theme. It remained very subdued, with Carl’s bright red lipstick being the flashy bit, which drew attention to his rather large lips. With a little bit of teasing (and lots of pinning), the drunkard now wore a French twist with a little height. “Timeless and easy.” Jamie said aloud, stepping back to admire her work. The final two additions were a pair of silver drop earrings and a simple onyx medallion. Jamie set Carl’s head back down carefully, as not to ruin his new creation, and turned his attention to the newly dragged boy’s wallet.

“Oh my god, there's $1000 in here! This asshole borrowed $20 off of Melody last night!” Jamie really wasn't sure where he'd gotten the money, but it definitely wasn't from a legitimate source. She threw the wallet inside Melody's safe (used for that which she absolutely wouldn’t let Carl get his hands on), as well as his keys. Jamie then sat down and wrote a very detailed note to Melody about the discovery, as well as letting her know that Carl's unemployment problem had been solved. He couldn't afford nice clothes of his own, but he could definitely borrow his girlfriend’s! Jamie taped it to Carl's enhanced breast, and left the new lady for Melody to find once she arrived home. She then grabbed her purse, and ran out of the door for work, a little surprised by the extreme nature of her actions… but thrilled nonetheless.

That night, a fair amount of Jamie's sales were to guys buying stuff for their girlfriends. She'd flirt with them a bit, touching their chests, laughing when they cracked a lame joke, and they became putty in her hands. “I don't know what's happening to me.” James thought, from somewhere deep inside. “It's like I'm getting some kind of weird pleasure out of having that much power over men. Not only that, I can't stop imagining them in the outfits I'm helping them pick.” Regardless, Jamie kept using her feminine wiles, racking up the commissions. That first paycheck was going to be nice and fat.

“Scored another one girl.” Pamela said, beaming with pride as she approached Jamie. Jamie had just closed another sale, sliding her purse into the crook of her elbow, as she got ready for their break. “I'm going to hate losing you once you get your check. You're quickly becoming the department’s top seller. Nice hair, by the way.”

Jamie flicked her hair instinctively, not realizing how much pride she was showing. “Thanks...I guess. That almost sounded genuine.”

“Oh, I'm totally serious. You're a hot little thing. On top of that, I'd said you've adapted pretty well. Changes your perspective when you see how the other half lives, doesn't it?”

“I guess so. I really am sorry for peeping around. I guess I never realized how 'on display' women are to some men…Me included.”

“Well I must say, you're doing a great job, and you're definitely taking your punishment in stride. Once Friday gets here, you can go back to being your old, significantly less fashionable self. Are you hungry?”

“A little, why?”

“C'mon. Dinner’s on me.”

“Do we have time to hit a restaurant? My break’s only twenty minutes.”

“One perk of eating with the floor manager: Your break is as long as I say it is.”

Pamela looped her arm through Jamie’s, pulling her toward a nearby bar and grille. The two chatted and giggled as they made their way out into the mall. Unknowingly to the duet, a certain young troublemaker stealthily snapped a picture from the other side of the counter. The text message quickly went out without a single word being uttered.

As they returned from dinner, Jamie checked her phone and found a forwarded text message from Emma. It read, “James Sanders, fashionista”, and featured a picture of Jamie, strutting across the mall in the most feminine of manners. Underneath was a line of text from Emma. “I just thought you'd want to know.” Emma was one of James' few friends at school. She was a t-shirt and tight jeans sort of girl, but was cute enough to not be completely ostracized by the clicky girls at their school. Her makeup was always tasteful and well executed, but still she preferred video games to a day shopping at the mall.

Jamie began to feel nervous as she texted back. “Where did you get that?”

Another text came through. “Kelly forwarded it to me, but I think Britain Jacobs sent out the original. I'm not going to pry, but if you need to talk, call me whenever.”

Jamie put her phone back in her purse, determined not to make a scene. She wouldn't give them the joy, in case Britain was still nearby, watching. The fashionista returned to her workstation, and zoned out for a while, dreading the impending doom once she returned to school. As she stood there, biting an acrylic extension on her thumb absent mindedly, a young guy in his early twenties approached her. “Hey there, beautiful. You okay? You look upset.”

Ms. Sanders looked up to see an obvious metal fan, as indicated by his Slayer t-shirt, his scraggly chin beard, and his long black straight hair, which fell to his side in a low ponytail. “I'm fine. I guess you could say I already know I'm going to have a bad day tomorrow.”

“Work, huh?”

“Nope. I'm actually off tomorrow. School.”

“School's overrated. Don't worry too much about it. High School doesn't last forever. Since you're off tomorrow, why don't you come and see my band? We're playing at The Peel. It'll be fun. Take your mind of the terrible day you've just had.”

“Thanks a lot, but I'm not sure that's my scene. I'm not much into...” Before Jamie could finish her sentence, a loud voice interrupted from side.

“Marty! What the hell do you think you're doing!? This isn't getting the car! I told you if I caught you flirting with some other girl again, that was it! We're finished!” The irate voice came from a cute blond, in a chic gray dress, and a double breasted sweater jacket. She held onto a bag from the makeup counter, as she stormed towards Marty, who looked absolutely terrified.

“What a bitch!” thought Jamie, turning to face the angry woman. “He was just being nice. I was about to start crying when he came over to cheer me up. He even invited me to his show tomorrow.”

“You have a show tomorrow!? Why didn't you tell me!? Cheat on me once, shame on you. Cheat on me twice...Ahh!!! I'm done!” She turned to face Jamie. “You seem very nice, honey. I thoroughly would not recommend going to his show tomorrow. I'm sorry you had the displeasure of meeting this asshole.”

“Baby, wait!” yelled Marty, dropping to his knees. “I'll do anything. Please don't go. I'll start to dress nicer like you want. Anything you say, I'll do it. Please don't leave me.”

Jamie was stunned by the turn of events. Here she thought that she'd finally encountered a nice guy, but sure enough, he was a total jerk. She then realized that she knew exactly how to deal with total jerks. “I’m so sorry your boyfriend is lacking in the fidelity department. He does sound like he'll do anything to make it up to you though. I believe I heard something about dressing nicer. I happen to be a sales associate here, and I also offer my services as a personal stylist. We're having a “buy one, get two” special on pumps and ankle boots today, and we're offering a $25 gift card with the purchase of any cocktail dress, $200 dollars or more. Is there anything I can help you…” she turned and glanced at Marty with a wicked smile, “…or him, with today?”

Three hours later, as the store was closing Jamie walked her two last clients to the door. “Have a good night you two, and thank you so much for your business.”

“No, thank you, Jamie. You've been wonderful. I'll be in later this week. I could use some of your magic. You're obviously very good at what you do.” The once irate woman said, gesturing to poor Marty. Gone were his old clothes, replaced by a very cute gold sweater, with a white collar, wide enough to hold rest on his biceps and leaving his shoulders bare. It also had white cuffs down the three quarter length sleeves, and a pink belt work at the waist. Under the sweater was a pink circle skirt with a little flair, and at the bottom, a pair of gold strappy sandals with a four inch heel, and a platform once inch tall. The ruby red on his nails and lips complimented his smoky gray eye makeup, not to mention those false dark lashes. Above the pencil thin eyebrows, his long dark hair had been transformed into a beautiful chestnut mane, teased high behind a gold headband, and falling down his back in loose barrel curls, with lightly feathered bangs resting gently on his forehead. The little gold balls that dangled slightly below his ears, the pink and gold metallic bangles on his right wrist, and the purple scarf looped twice around his throat with the ends tied off (leaving two short tails jauntily pointing to the left), finished the image of a fashion hound with a purpose for shopping, finishing off what appeared to be a very successful day, as her arms were now laden with shopping bags of every shape and size.

Jamie couldn't help but chuckle a little when Marty's eyes nearly fell out of his head, once he realized exactly how much he was swiping his card for. She laughed again as the couple made their way out the door, at which point Pamela came up and locked it behind them. “You're getting really, really, really good at this, almost better than me. You must have made a hundred dollars off that commission, too.”

“It was an easy sale. I don't think I've ever seen a guy so terrified of losing his girlfriend.”

“He might anyway. Do you hear that?”

The two got real quiet, enough to listen a familiar voice through the window. “I've changed my mind. I don't think I want to take you home now. Call that little groupie you said you'd stopped seeing. I found her number in your wallet when I was getting rid of your old clothes, while you were in the salon. Sorry. I think I might have accidentally thrown away your phone as well. Oops. Here's her number though. I'll even give you a quarter so you can use that pay phone down the road. I guess I was right when I said you'd look hot without the beard. Have a nice life, fucker!” She then got into her car, and left her feminized, now ex boyfriend standing in the parking lot, his mouth agape.

From deep inside, James thought one thing only. “I don't know what's happening to me, but I kind of like it.”

After a night of fitful sleep, James awoke to an empty house. He threw on the same clothes he'd worn the day before, and begrudgingly made his way to school. There were whispers and stares coming from all directions…Except from Frank, who sat quietly in a cute purple sheath, relieved at having lost some of the attention. James wished the floor would swallow him whole. Just before the bell, someone snuck up behind him, and yanked off his ski cap, exposing the beautiful blond perked locks beneath. The room filled with gaggles of laughter, and James knew the rest of the day was going to be more of the same.

At lunch, James snuck off to the side of the building. He tried to get away from the increasingly creative ways people were calling him a sissy. Going to light a cigarette, he saw Frank standing there, already smoking, and looking in his direction. "I should kill you for this, you know?" Frank said, as he pulled the cig away from his perfectly painted lips.

"Kill me? Are you serious? You were going to expose me to the whole school. Why are you still dressing like that anyway?"

"When I showed up at my sister's rehearsal dinner, wearing that God forsaken dress, and had no reasonable explanation, Dad thought I was trying to cause some kind of a scene to ruin my sister's big day. He said if I wanted to dress like a girl, I could do it for the rest of the semester. My mom's just been relishing the opportunity to doll me up every morning, and dress me in Megan's old things. Worst of all, Megan was always such a priss. I hate this stupid dress. I hate all of her stupid clothes!"

"How do you think I feel? I was caught snooping in a ladies’ dressing room, and I was blackmailed into spending all of the money I was supposed to spend on a new wardrobe for myself…on girly things! My mom threw away my entire closet before she knew what happened, and now I'm stuck working at MacArthur's, saving up for some fucking boys’ clothes. At least my mom's a little sympathetic, but she still thinks I made my bed."

"So that's what happened." said a voice from around the corner. It was Emma. "Sorry for listening in, but I've been looking for you all day, James. Sorry it's been so rough, but it sounds like you've created the situation. If I might make a suggestion, have you thought about making the best of it?"

"What do you mean?" Both of the feminized boys looked utterly perplexed.

"You're both pretty cute. Why don't you just act as if it's nothing to be embarrassed about?"

"Easy for you to say. You don't have to dress like you're having afternoon brunch at the club every day." said Frank stunning out his cigarette beneath his platform pumps.

"From what I understand neither do you. Your dad said you'd have to dress like a girl. He didn't say anything about having to dress like your sister. I tell you what. Let’s all meet at James' house tomorrow morning, and get ready for school together. I'll bring some things you might be more comfortable in, Frank, and then the three of us can walk into the school, heads held high. What do you say?"

"I'm in." said James. "How much worse can it get. I may as well wear something different. We don't have a washer and dryer, and your clothes are starting to stink, Frank."

"I guess I'm in too” said Frank. “I'll take anything over being Ms. Prim and Proper. How long will it take?"

"You guys might want to come over at 5:30. I have something in mind for your hair, but it's going to take a while."

"Great!” Emma giggled. “It’s settled then. I'll see you two bright and early."

The trio dispersed, and James endured the onslaught of taunts for the rest of the day. "Emma's plan was good," he thought, "but I think it needs a little something extra. I'm going to get that asshole Britain." it seemed that even without a cute outfit, Jamie was coming out to play, and her wheels were spinning.

James walked back into home, and as he stretched his arms over his head, he caught a whiff of the shirt he'd been wearing. “Ewww!” he said aloud, ripping it off, and making his way to his room. He tried to find something casual to lounge around the house in, and decided on a pair of jean short shorts, and a black pullover sweater with white polka dots. “Well this just looks ridiculous.” he said, as he pulled off the sweater, and slipped into a simple white padded bra. It looked like Jamie was here. She took a seat at her mom's vanity table, and started on her makeup; simple and understated, with a light gloss on the lips. She ran a brush through her hair, and grabbing two hair ties, she tied twin pigtails low enough for her blond tresses to fall softly in front of her shoulders.

“You've been busy, little sister.”

Melody had her arms folded, and was leaning against the doorway, smirking at Jamie’s startling. “I saw the results of your latest makeover project.”

. “I guess I got a little carried away. Are you mad?”

“Not at all. I was thoroughly amused when I realized who was the girl who laid passed out on the couch. After I went to check my things, I saw your note, and found that money. Then I was extremely pissed, but not at you.”

“What happened?”

“Follow me, and I'll tell you.” The siblings found themselves in the living room, with a bottle of polish, and they began to do each other’s toenails. Melody said, “Your note made me realize it was time to shed some dead weight.”

“So you guys broke up? I'm so sorry.”

“On the contrary. I shook that bastard awake, and tore into his hungover ass. I asked him where he'd gotten the money, and he told me he stole it from his dad. Apparently the drunkard had kicked him out again, and Carl grabbed it on the way out. Then I asked him why he borrowed money from me, and he said he didn't remember doing it. Apparently he was so blackout drunk, that he had forgotten he had money in the first place. I was going to leave him, but he looked up at me with those big pathetic eyes, and begged me not to break up with him. He kept going on about how he'd do anything to make it work, and how I was the only good thing in his life. He did say anything, so I told him I'd consider staying with him, if he quit drinking, and let me take him job hunting.”

Jamie listened with great attention. Melody continued. “He agreed, so I helped him up, and led him to the bathroom to clean him up. You should have heard him. He was all like 'Why am I walking so funny?' It was then that I realized he didn't have a clue how he was dressed. He got to the sink, took one look in the mirror, and I'd swear his jaw hit the tile! He turned his face up to look at me with pleading eyes, and my response was, “You said anything. You always go on about how much you love me. Well, it's time to prove it!”

“I helped him brush his teeth, spritzed him with some perfume, loaded him up with some coffee, and helped him get his bearings in the heels. Afterwards we typed up a resume, printed a dozen copies, and spent the remaining time before five o clock dropping them off at every office we came across. Then it was happy hour with the girls. He tried to stay in the car, but I pulled him out, telling him the ladies should meet their designated driver. He mostly sat there quietly, and shyly accepted the compliments on his outfit. Shawna even said she could get him an interview for the mailroom at her office. Said they were very accepting of alternative lifestyles. After two drinks I was ready to go, so we grabbed our purses and headed for the door. I have to say, I'm impressed that he didn't take a single drink, and hasn't since.” Just then, there was a rattling at the door, before the lock turned slowly. “That must be Carla now.”

When Carl walked in the door, Jamie's eyes nearly fell out of her face. Carl was wearing a patterned vintage, sleeveless pink dress, with a tight bodice and a voluminously flared skirt with box pleats. It was topped off with a matching double breasted bolero jacket, with three quarters length sleeves, a scoop necked collar, and a pair of tight pink gloves that went halfway up the forearm. All of this above a pair of tan stockings with visible seams, and a pair of two inch pink pumps. With the same French twist as before, the clutch purse in one hand, and the grocery bags in the other, he looked like a housewife from the fifties returning from the market.

“Hi hun.”. Carla said, wiggling over and planting a kiss on Melody's cheek. “Hi Jamie. That's a cute sweater. Hope you guys are hungry. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

Jamie continued to stare in amazement. Carla took off her gloves and jacket, slipping into a frilly white pinafore apron before going into the kitchen. “Where did you get that dress?” Jamie asked. “This has got to be a dream. I can't believe what I'm seeing.”

“I found it upstairs when we were cleaning out the attic. I think it's one of grandma's old things. I just begged her to put it on. I knew she'd look so cute in it.”

“I'm missing something.”

“Let me finish the story. We drove up to the park, and sat in the car for a while, just talking about life, and us. I told him I was worried about him turning out like his dad, and he confessed to me that he was worried too. I had an idea of how we could nip that one in the bud. Carl swore he'd do anything, and I was going to hold him to it. He agreed to be Carla for a little while, and to go to the interview once Shawna's boss called him. He also agreed that since he'd be staying here without contributing for a while, he'd contribute in other ways. So Carla will be doing the housework until she starts her job, so you've got at least a week off from chores. Anyway, we got home after you were in bed. I took him to my room, and dressed him in one of my nightgowns. The sex has never been so good.”

“I don't want to hear that.” Jamie said, nearly dropping the polish onto the ottoman.

“That's what sisters do! They share the details of each other’s love lives! ...Okay, I'll break you into that one later. This morning I woke up, and he was already cleaning. I decided to help since this place was nearly in shambles, and after an hour or so, we had it nice and presentable. We decided to clean up the attic, like mom's been trying to do for a while. I found that dress, and I had to see him in it. He has been wearing it since; I think he really likes it. I can't believe he went to the grocery store wearing it. Oh, by the way! We decided to keep that money he took from his dad as asshole tax. Also as payment from when his dad hit my car, and refused to do anything about the damage. Carla and I will be coming to MacArthur's sometime this week, and we’ll take full advantage of your employee discount.”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing. I'm glad things are working out between you two. He, or rather she, really meant it when she said anything. She's a lucky one too to have you. The last jerk I heard say 'anything' got dumped anyway.”

The family enjoyed a nice dinner once their mom got home, who turned into bed immediately afterwards. For their part, Jamie and Melody decided to tag team a manicure for Carla. Jamie was stunned, unable to believe how much her home's dynamic had changed in the last week. She went to bed early. There was a big day ahead of her.

The next morning, Francine arrived looking the part of a débutante, wearing a simple yellow dress with a blue sweater. Jamie answered the door looking stunning, donning a blue and white horizontal stripped dress alongside a denim jacket. She teetered along in her cork wedges and led Francine to the top of the stairs, where Emma was waiting. The Team Makeover, as they'd jokingly started calling themselves, sat Francine down and threw a towel around her shoulders, while Jamie spread a thick paste into her hair. Emma started in on her makeup, carefully explaining each step in the process. After she was done, she removed it all, and made Francine do it over and over again until she got it right. A few minutes after her last attempt, Jamie took her to the bathroom, and rinsed her head. After a lot of blow drying and little bit of styling, she was left to dress in the outfit Emma had selected for her.

Back in the bedroom, Team Makeover had thrown a blanket over the full length mirror. Jamie said, “I'd like the present to you, the new and improved, Francine.” Emma pulled off the blanket for the big reveal. Gone was the image of the demure little maiden, and in its place was one badass babe. She was wearing a skin tight Bad Religion t-shirt showing off her amply padded bosom. Underneath it was a short red pleated tartan skirt, fishnet stockings, and a pair of shitkicker boots. Her makeup was dark, with black mascara and eyeliner, purple eyeshadow and dark red lips. Francine’s bright purple hair had been styled into Rosie the Riveter style, tied off with a blue polka dotted bandana. Gone were the pearls, replaced by a pair of captive beads, and a spiked choker. She placed her black nails up to her new do, but stopped short, not wanting to damage it. “Not Francine. Frankie. My name is Frankie.” A smile crept into the corners of her mouth. “Shall we go?”

“In a minute.” Jamie said. “First, I need to fill you on the details of a little plan of mine.”

Needless to say, the trio turned quite a few heads as they strolled into the school early. The three girls walked through the commons like they had nothing to be ashamed of, and Jamie was quickly becoming convinced she didn't. Frankie and Emma scurried off, while Jamie waited patiently by the gym. After a short while, Britain walked out, just finishing his morning run. He wasn't really a jock, and was actually quite small, but he did his best to keep in shape, to keep his pretty boy image going.

“What do you want, faggot?!” he spat at Jamie. “I see you're wearing that shit here now.”

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Jamie said, with a flirty cutesy little girl voice. “I just wanted to thank you for outing me. Now I can be my pretty little self at school. I must do something to repay you.”

Britain looked dumbfounded, as Jamie stood there, absentmindedly twirling her hair. “What do you mean?”

Confidently, she approached him and whispered into his ear, “Maybe an oral will suffice?” before kissing him firmly on the mouth. Britain was dumbfounded. She took his hand and led him back into the girl’s locker room. While there was no sexual thrill from the kiss, Jamie definitely enjoyed the power she had over this stupid sap. He knew she wasn't a real girl, and yet he was almost completely powerless to fight the urge to receive a blowjob from a blond bimbo. He dutifully followed along in the back where Jamie pulled his shirt over his head, and then undid his pants…

…Just as Frankie came from around the corner, punching Britain square in the stomach with all her strength! Albeit dressed more effeminately, she was still the same hard ass who had terrorized the school not that long ago. By the time Britain caught his breath, he had already been tied to the bench, he had a pair of silky pink panties on, and the duo of girlfriends was coating him in depilatory cream.

Frankie held his head still, while Jamie started tweezing his eyebrows into near nonexistence. She then worked her makeup magic, starting on his hair. She left much of the hair’s front combed forward, and then trimmed it into straight cut bangs resting at just above his eyes. After a fair amount of work with a curling iron, and a teasing brush, his blond locks were two of the biggest curliest pigtails one could imagine. After Jamie secured a large pink bow in front of the left pigtail, Frankie finally released her captive’s head, allowing Jamie to step back, and survey her work. Once Britain was able to look around he realized that Emma was standing off to the side, filming the whole thing.

“What the hell did you sissy faggots do to me?” he screamed, struggling to escape in all its futility.

“Hey!” Emma yelled. “Jamie might be kind of a sissy, but she's not faggot…and I’ll prove it” She suddenly grabbed Jamie by her shoulders, dipped her over, and kissed her square on the lips, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. Jamie included.

“Now you've got two choices. You can either stay here, and wait to be found before gym class, by which point we will have circulated the tape of you following this “sissy faggot” for a romantic encounter, only for two girlie boys to make you their bitch… Or you can put on the outfit we brought for you, walk to class and tell anyone who asks that you realized the courage these two have, and feeling bad for making fun of them, you'll be dressing this way for the next week as a show of solidarity. If you deviate from that at all, this tape gets out. What's it going to be…Brittany?”

Jamie was impressed by Emma's ruthlessness, but kept a stern face as she glared at the helpless young’un before her. After a few moments, Britain asked, “You'll never spread the tape?” The three nodded.

“And you'll never tell anyone that I was going to let Jamie suck my dick?”

“If you can call it that.” Emma said, still brimming with rage.

“…Alright, fine. Give me the damn clothes.”

Out of the bathroom walked four girls. The three who'd garnished so much attention in the morning, and a new one. She was definitely a girly girl, wearing a pair of pink pumps, a white pleated miniskirt, and a pink crop top angora sweater, which as Frankie put it, showed off that flat tummy that she'd been working so hard to keep. With the pigtails, the bow, the white plastic hoop earrings dangling from her ears, the heavily padded bra, and the large perfectly painted glossy dsl's that looked irresistibly kissable, she was going to turn more than her fair share of heads. She slung her pink patterned purse over her shoulder, and begrudgingly broke away from the group and headed towards her homeroom class.

“Have a nice day Brittany!” Emma yelled loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the halls.

“She's going to break a lot of hearts in that outfit.” Frankie said, laughing to the point of near tears.

“You should see what I have for her tomorrow.” Jamie said. “She's going to wear a lot more pink that I do, and I can't wait to see just how big I can get that hair.”

The week went on as good as can be expected, with Brittany, and her overly feminine outfits garnishing most of the attention. Eventually the new girls became a part of the scenery, and were less and less interesting as time went by. Before Jamie knew it, Friday was here, and it was payday.

“Should I take this as your notice?” Pamela asked, as she handed Jamie the check. “There's enough there to get you anything you could ever need from the men’s department.”

“Actually, I think I'm going to take my new girlfriend out to a nice dinner, and buy her a new games system. She's been way too good to me, and it's time I returned the favor. There's always the next one.”

“Can't say I'm not happy you're staying. Oh, could you go see what that woman needs?”

Jamie walked over to her department, and saw a middle school age boy snapping and cussing at his mother. She approached her and asked, “Can I help you?”

“I don't know, maybe.” the exasperated woman responded. “We came to get him some new things, and he didn't see anything he liked. He's just been showing his rear ever since, and I've been searching this store top to bottom trying to find anything that will quiet him down. Do you think you can help me?”

Jamie took a long look at the young boy, who was way too old to be throwing such a temper tantrum. His chin length hair was going to look so cute in an auburn shade, with a little wave to it, and Jamie knew just the perfect floral print cap sleeved dress that was going to hang from his slender body in just the right way. “Yes ma'am. I think I am absolutely sure I can help you.”

“There's always the next check…Then I can definitely get those Jimmy Choo's I've had my eyes on.”

The End.

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I was never one for forced

I was never one for forced feminization so it always surprises me when I find a story as well written as this one. 2 thumbs up and I will be checking a few of your other stories.

great stories

I read all three an absolutely loved them

Hi Shawna!

It's been so long since the last chapter, I went back and re-read the first two. Jimmy Choo's? I'm so jealous now! (LOL). Shawna dear, lovely chapter to wrap this one up hon! Loving Hugs Talia

Desiree's picture

very enjoyable

i always had so much fun shopping with my Daughters, so the thrill of shopping is so understandable.

Goddess Bless you

Love Desiree

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