For Friends and Family Part 5 – Life as Nichola

Andy is looking for a new challenge, his current girlfriends sister has suffered a nervous break down, Andy is very similar in both size and looks, agrees to be changed into a Nichola look alike.
This is a dream for Andy who has a secret desire to live and work as a woman.
In this part surgery which transformation him into Nichola is completed and he leaves the clinic. Now he begins to learn his new life as a woman called Nichola.

I am back in sequence now after my horrific blunder

As we walked from the hospital, our heel clacking in unison, a sound that I was going to have to get very used to, Amy asked “Does it hurt Nicky – Oh sorry sis I forgot you still cannot talk until after your next appointment with Jonathan”.

This was very annoying as in my last examination I had spoken and I loved the sound of my voice.
BUT with the caution that doctors seem to be taught at university he had told me not to speak but to rest my vocal chords until my next visit to him! So it was back to my trusty i-pad for a while.

Smiling I shook my head and considered the fact that nothing really hurt, my nose, yes that was uncomfortable, and so was my chin.
It was in these two places where I had the most bruising and swelling, though the swelling was reducing and soon there would be none.
My breasts they felt… Oh it’s hard to explain, but while these felt swollen, which they were as I had gone from a flat chest to a B cup, and next week I was going to be a C cup. But they felt swollen, they were not uncomfortable; they were, well just there as they didn’t jiggle but I was aware of them as I walked it was such a strange and pleasant feeling.

Before I left hospital I had had a consultation with Jonathan or Dr. Jackson (we know him socially as a family) and he explained why the scarring was minimal, my cheek implants had been done by a relatively new method which only needs the smallest of incisions for the implant to be slipped in in a semi plastic state it’s then manipulated onto my own cheek bones and held in place for a day with a former while it sets and bonds to my own bone.

My boobs were similarly done with an incision at the side following the natural line of my breasts, as I mentioned before these were ‘pumped up’ – it’s the only way to describe it under a local anaesthetic as my skin stretches.

My hips and bum was also enhanced by a similar method to my cheeks, a ‘former’ the shape of the desired hip and bum shape is attached to me and a solution which bonds with my own fat gives me the feminine shape, this was also used on my lips, so my new, very feminine lips do not need re-doing every so often as collagen enhancements do.
These ‘formers’ were another reason I was sedated after the operations, as they are uncomfortable.

Using my trusty i-pad I mentioned that these seem very permanent, Jonathon told me that they could well be permanent if I desired them to be, but to remove them the procedure has to be reversed and with for ‘formers’ in place a solution is injected into the area of the implant which after 24 hours or so makes it revert to a plastic state which then unbonds it from the fat or bone so it can be removed.
This set my mind at rest so really I was happy, that during the year I was to be Nichola, nothing would ‘fall off’ or go floppy!

When we got outside it was quite cool, the breeze wafted up my skirt, which was a strange and wonderful experience.
We walked to Amy’s go faster Mini Cooper S and drove home, chatting away, or rather Amy was talking I was listening.

We got home and Mum greeted us, ushering us inside saying she had just made some soup for lunch, which sounded good to me, to get more solids I soaked pieces of bread in the soup until they were nearly mush.
Lunch was a pleasant affair, Mum and Amy talking and me typing, now we had to plan my ‘training’ in the arts of being a woman, and I had five weeks now to go before I started my new job in my new sex.

Very roughly we devised a ‘plan’, which we would follow on a daily basis.
Mornings consisted of a girls morning routine to get ready for the day, also fashion guidance from Mum and Amy, deportment, how to walk sit and act as a girl, and a session on Make up.
Afternoon would consist of more deportment, learning how to do different hair styles by myself, writing and signature practice and voice training, to try and get Nichola’s inflections right. (this was when I could actually speak)
Evenings would be ‘free’ time, but there were my diaries to read and the make up DVD to watch, as this has the essential pictures of people I am supposed to know at work.

So after a lazy Friday, spent reading my diaries and watching the DVD on make up we had a really pleasant day.
Dad arrived home and hugged me like a daughter, and we had a nice family meal, finally I went to bed after Dad had checked the area the operations were carried out and he pronounced that he was pleased the way they were healing and in his opinion the swelling was decreasing nicely, this was on my nose, chin and breasts, the other wound marks for my hips, bum, cheek and lips had healed thanks to the cutting edge surgery.

When I got to my bedroom, it felt strange to undress and see my top half every bit a woman, my groin said man, and my legs, smooth and hairless said woman, a very confusing picture, I looked at my hips and bum, no one could mistake these as male, they screamed female.
I shook my head and selected a peach satin and lace nightdress with lace around the bust and hem, it also had spaghetti straps it felt really sensual sliding down my body.
Amy stuck her head in the door and told me that Chloe was coming round tomorrow morning to give me my new false vagina, this time it would be in my skin tone, she was also going to do some more hair removal.
Now Amy took me through my night-time routine before bed; as a man I was used to toilet, teeth then bed!
Now I went to the toilet, douched myself (or at least I would once my new vagina was fitted) skin cleanser to remove all traces of make up, intensive night serum face cream, clean my teeth then finally bed, and I would do this every night during my life as Nichola, we kissed good night and we parted.

I slept really well that night, woke up about eight, with Amy shaking me by the shoulder, then she taught me my morning routine, which was. First toilet, then shower, moisturise face every day and body every third day, but until my skin was as smooth and silky as Nichola’s skin I had to use body lotion every day, clean my teeth then get dressed.

Today I decided on a simple denim skirt some 2” above the knee, barely black hold ups, midnight blue silky panties, my sports bra and a jersey cowl necked top in cream, I combed my hair (read wig) and was ready.

I went down stairs to find that the rest of the family were there, as usual Mum and Amy were going to see Nichola in the sanatorium, I realised that it was a big strain on Mum while I had been in hospital as she had to split her time between her natural daughter and me her surrogate daughter.

Asking how Nichola was, (via the typing method of conversation) I found out that she had regressed to what the psychiatrists explained as a safer time for her, she was also somewhat withdrawn but that it was early days and the prognosis was good.
I asked if Nichola knew what was happening; Dad answered this saying “Not at present, the specialists think that if she knew she didn’t have to rush back to return to the work she loves it would in all probability slow her recovery”.
Mum then continued “but as soon as she is capable of understanding the sacrifices you have made to help us, we will tell her everything”.
We continued to discuss Nichola, in herself she was fit and healthy, the after effects of her attempted suicide were thankfully receding.

I typed to Mum that she must devote all her time to her real daughter! I would manage with her occasional help, but it would mean that Amy would spend a lot of time with my training.
Amy readily agreed to this because I knew that while she loved her sister deeply, visiting her made her feel deeply uncomfortable.
Mum looked relieved that we felt that she must devote her time helping Nichola recover and admitted that it has been hard.

The doorbell rung and Amy went to answer and returned with Chloe, she sat down and had some coffee, Today I was informed more hair was going to be removed, my prosthetic vagina would be fitted.
Chloe informed me that this was a newer model that had some enhancements to the one I wore previously.
Also now I had a more feminine shape I was to be measured to see exactly where I needed to loose weight, or inches!

Mum and Dad left for the sanatorium, I was amazed how I saw things differently, they were my family and Amy was my sister, also I saw myself as a woman.
We went up to my bedroom and I stripped, Chloe showed me my new prosthetic vagina, as I slipped my dick (which looked a lot smaller, (but surely the hormones do not work that fast) into the tight tube which allows me to pee sitting down, she pointed out that the vagina was much improved as it had a slick lining which didn’t need as much lubrication before sex and the rubbing of my partners dick against my clittie (read dick) would give me ultimate sensations of pleasure and I would find it a lot easier to douche.

When I started this, the thought of having a man felt alien, yes I had dabbled in homosexuality at university, always being the passive partner, but now secretly I was thrilled at having a man as a woman, if you see what I mean.

When I looked in the mirror now, all I saw was a woman, even through the bruising it was Nichola I saw. Now for the measuring, Nichola was 40 – 28 – 42, with a D bra cup.
My vital statistics were 38 – 32 – 40 with a B cup, soon to be a C cup and then a D cup. I typed if I could remain a C cup as with my slightly smaller frame a C cup would look about right on me. Chloe and Amy discussed this and agreed that this was a good idea.

So I needed to loose 4” on my waist, and gain 2” on my hips.
The girls discussed this and they decided that as well as serious dieting and hope that the hormones would shift fat distribution from my belly to my hips; a waist cinch was the short-term answer.

But there was no answer to my bra size Nichola was 40 under bust, while I was a 38, the only way out of this was to buy new bras in 38C! An expensive business as all Nichola’s underwear was really good quality with a Bra costing £30 and upwards, and they were all very feminine.

Now I had my vagina fitted I decided to wear a pair of jeans, as I wiggled my way into the skinny stretch jeans I realised that Amy was right on the first day, these jeans screamed GIRL and showed all of my attributes including my luscious derrière. However it was a good job they were hipster style as they would be tight around my waist.

Hair removal was next, Chloe set up her equipment and started on the sparse hairs on my belly, between my boobs and on my face, as I was not sedated she could only do so much work.
After an hour she stopped and packed up, I rubbed salve onto the areas to soothe any irritation.

We had some coffee and Chloe left saying she would see me on Tuesday. Amy then told me it was time for deportment!
I thought that deportment was a thing you read about in Bronte novels or Miss Jean Brody, but not on your life.
Amy had me walking with heels on with a book balanced on my head – no kidding.
As she told me, men tend to walk hunched up slightly, unless they had been in the armed forces.
Us girls walk head up, chest thrust proudly out, back straight, we are proud to be a woman.

We also walk differently, we position one foot in front of another, giving a sway to the hips, the higher the heels the more pronounced the sway is becoming a sexy wiggle.
For two hours Amy had me walking with the book on my head, low heels high heels and towering 6” heels. (As a spur to perfection she reduced my daily food intake by 5 calories every time the book dropped, as I was on 1000 calories a day this was serious)
She had me walking on the flat, up stairs, down stairs, on carpets, on wood floor also sitting down and standing up, all with that damn book on my head – or not as the case may be!

Sitting down and getting up, men just flop into a chair we women keep our knees together and sit in a ladylike manner not slump like a sack of potatoes.
So the basics are sit down gracefully and stand up gracefully all with that damn book on my head.
Finally we stopped and prepared lunch, I was 100 calories down today as the book dropped 10 times – what a slave driver that Amy is!

For me a tuna salad sandwich on pitta bread, for Amy the same salad on a wholemeal brown roll.

After lunch Mum and Dad arrived, the news on Nichola was good as far as things had not gotten worse, she was still withdrawn and regressed but no worse.

Amy announce that we were going shopping, I needed another sports bra to last me until my boobs were enlarged to a C cup, and two pairs of C cup sports bras.
I didn’t worry about going out, as I knew I would have to get used to going out as Nichola, so the sooner the better.

Amy had me change into a tight skirt and blouse, I chose a burgundy pencil skirt in a linen mix, satin lined with a thin black belt, for my blouse it was a pink chiffon blouse with a pink satin camisole underneath to maintain my modesty.
I chose black knee length boots with a 4” block heel and a matching shoulder bag.
Finally a cream wool ¾ length single-breasted coat and a cute knitted hat.
Amy showed me how to use makeup to conceal my bruises, and with some blushed and lipstick I really looked the part, of course I wore the oversized shaded glasses to hide what was left of the swelling.

I thought things were going too easy, however the tight skirt was a ploy to teach me how to get in and out of Amy’s Mini without showing the world my knickers or tearing my skirt!
The slave driver had me going in and out of the car for half and hour, until she was happy with my performance, giggling, she informed me that it’s great I couldn’t talk or else I would argue with her.

I thought as we drove, that she was Oh So wrong about that I was eager to learn how to survive as a woman I would do anything to achieve this goal, I was now really enjoying my challenge.

We arrived in Oxford and immediately went underwear shopping; I bought sports bras in 38B, four in 38C as I would be wearing these when exercising.

We then went shopping for waist cinches we ended up buying six at £60 each! I also bought some bras, everyday ones to start with Hedona Chantelle in ivory, black, ice blue and skin tone, these would do for a start, nice fitting bras with satin cups, underwired and unpadded.

We arrived home for supper I just wished that I were allowed to talk,
After supper to see how the subliminal pictures were doing I was shown pictures of people in the diary and I had to type their names and my relationship with them.
I only got 4 out of the thirty or so but the strange thing was all four were guys that Nichola had been in a relationship with! (Now that was scary and thought provoking)

The weekend went well, Sunday followed and my training never let up. Make up, fashion, deportment (I was growing to hate that book) but I only lost 90 calories off my diet – getting better.
Mum and Dad went to take Nichola out for the day, so it was Amy and I, that sister of mine is a slave driver, without even thinking I was regarding Amy as my sister.

Monday came and I went for my appointment at the hospital, Amy drove me there and waited for me, first I went to Dr. Jackson for a full examination.

The bruising was fading and the swelling was going down. He was pleased at the other areas of my body and pronounced that I needn’t use dressings on them, he examined my throat and asked me to say my full name.
“Nichola Elizabeth McKinnon” I clapped my hand to my mouth and stammered, “Is that my voice?” Jonathon smiled and answered, “It certainly is young lady, do you like it?” “Like it” I squealed, “I love it, it sounds absolutely right”.
“Well as far as I can tell it’s as near as we can make it, to me it sounds a bit throaty, or husky, (Fiona Bruce again) but it’s not that noticeable”

I was elated things were coming together. Next I was taken to an examination room where I was told to take my top off and Bra, a local anaesthetic was given to each side of my breasts and the saline added to my tear shaped breasts, expanding them to a C cup, I noticed then that some work had been done on my nipples, they were the size of a large eraser on the end of a pencil, very perky and when I touched them VERY sensitive needless to say I loved them.
I got dressed putting my new pink sports bra on 38C cup and my blue jersey roll neck jumper.
The I was taken to the orthodontist where a cast was to be taken of my teeth and caps were to be fitted to make my teeth more feminine, also they were to be whitened to give me that perfect smile.
Finally after three hours I re-joined Amy and before we drove home I spoke letting her hear my new voice!
Her face when she heard me speak was a study, her mouth simply hung open!
She flung her arms around my neck saying “Oh Nicky, your voice is just perfect, a bit of coaching and you’ll be absolutely perfect but that throaty sound is going to drive men wild, you lucky cow!”

Now as we drove home we could have a proper conversation just like two sisters.
Mum was home when we arrived, she had already been to see Nichola, so my training commenced again now I could speak I asked Amy where she knew all about deportment.
“Oh” she casually said, “When I was a senior at St Anthony I used to tutor the young girls so they grew up like ladies, but they only did half and hour a week as we had loads of time, you sis we have to cram everything in”
I was watching the make up DVD daily and getting to recognise faces, also reading the diaries I was really getting into Nichola’s head set.

I explored my wardrobe and found the most fabulous collection of clothes, everything was of good quality, everything was cut in the most feminine manner, from business suits (10 of those) complete with blouses to mix and match all made from silk, chiffon or fine cotton with matching camisoles where appropriate all cut in very feminine styles, I had cocktail dresses (8 of these) evening gowns (only 2 – only!!) but I found that once she has worn them she sells them to clothes hire companies.
Lots and lots of skirts different styles and colours plus too many tops to count blouses, tunics, sweaters, T-shirts.
My walk in wardrobe was full, then of course there were coats and jackets, full length, ¾ length, blousons, bolero, fur and linen, a jacket for every purpose, in fact looking through the collection, several jackets for every purpose.
And I have not even mentioned my underwear drawer!
I wondered if with my smaller bust size any of these clothes would fit me or would they have to be altered!

I was in heaven, but as you can guess I was beginning to question the reasons I had agreed to this, yes it was to help the family and yes it was to live out a dream of mine to live and work as a woman.
But every day I was being immersed in the world of a young woman, I was taking to it like the proverbial duck to water, what of the future… What indeed.