Sometimes our friend's judgement is for our own good
Have you ever had a week that just sucked?
Nah, that' a stupid question - of course you have. If you're reading this then you're not dead, so it's dead certain you've had a week that sucked long and hard and deep. Crappy boss, crappy customers, crappy bureaucratic rules, crappy car, crappy night staring at the ceiling, crappy crap. Take your pick or hit the jackpot and take all the above.
So this is where we find our little group of modern singles on a Friday after work, trying to explain how their crap is crappier than the crap the other person is living with. It makes for a lively discussion. We'll start with Maja, whose ancestors came from somewhere in Scandinavia. She's an office manager for a big financial firm. Those ancestors must have included a viking or two, who bequeathed her waves of blonde hair and a Rubenesque body. She's wearing a sharp looking skirted suit with more than a little cleavage showing but sensible flats as she knows she's going to be on her feet half the day chasing around putting out fires. She would look equally at home with a horned helmet and a shiny brass bra belting out some operatic lyrics.
Next to her is Josh, an engineer at a firm with a modern outlook and progressive policies. Tall and lean, he's wearing jeans and a polo shirt, has his long hair tied back in a warrior's tail and sports two rubies in his pierced ears. If he weren't wearing such a sour look - think what a really good sour dill from an old-fashioned NY deli could do - he'd be inspiring some hot and sweaty daydreams among the bar's female patrons.
If this were the opening scene of some insipid sitcom the camera would focus next on Yasuyo, a diminutive woman of Japanese extraction who toils by day in a tourism firm, providing interesting and exciting adventures for Japanese tourists, adventures she will never get to experience for herself. Fluent in her native Japanese, colloquial American English and, of all things, Farsi, she is far too intelligent to let herself be a character in an insipid sitcom. While she would certainly look wonderful in traditional Japanese dress, she contents herself with traditional American officewear, which leaves her male customers more than content and a few of her female customers wistful.
Lastly, we have Marcel the photographer. From the name you would think French, but it's a bit more complicated than that. His paternal grandfather left Senegal when the French granted it independence, his family not sure what would happen to them after the change. His dark skinned grandfather met his so-called white paternal grandmother in Pittsburgh. Life wasn't easy for either of them as a mixed couple, but when the Loving decision finally came around in 1967 they married and their children attained legal, if not cultural, legitimacy. Since both the grandparents loved the sound of French names, their children became Andre, Suzette, Chantal and Gérard. How four black kids with French names made it through the Pittsburgh schools in the sixties and early seventies is another story entirely.
Marcel's maternal grandparents were Jewish Freedom Riders who met and fell in love in Alabama during the turmoil of the sixties. His parents met at Princeton where they were both studying for advanced degrees.
Confused yet? I told you it was complicated. However, as is the American way of simplifying things to oblivion, if you looked at him you would think 'black man with a great body and an out-of-style Afro.' Never mind that three out of four of his grandparents were considered white; Marcel is categorized on sight as a black man, and a Jewish black man at that. By the way, that Afro makes it a pain to keep the Yarmulke on at temple.
So now you know who's sitting around that table littered with empty glasses on a warm summer's evening, we can listen in on their conversation. It's been going on for some time, so the more vociferous complaints have been aired and disposed of and Yasuyo is in the middle of a story.
"...and one of the tour buses in Yellowstone is having a problem. Of course every stinkin' one of the tourists on the bus has a smartphone and is Googling away when they lose signal halfway to the park. The damn place is in the middle of nowhere, how many cell towers are they going to put up for the bears and mountain lions, I ask you? So this tourist has just discovered that Yellowstone Park sits on top of the Yellowstone Supervolcano. Duh!
Well he gets excited, but when he tries to find out more he loses signal and immediately assumes the volcano has blown it's top and that's why he doesn't have instant data. Pretty soon he has the entire bus raving and the poor bus driver, who doesn't speak Japanese and hasn't a clue what's going on, has to pull over so the tour guide can explain that they are not going to drive into a pool of red-hot magma and all be instantly obliterated. See - pretty blue sky, no smoke, no lava, just bison and elk wandering around. It's been two freaking million years since the thing erupted, fer cryin' out loud!"
"Good thing nobody's thought to make a movie about that," commented Marcel, "though it would make some really cool video having magma boiling up in the middle of Yellowstone lake. The gas station would blow up nicely and think of all the roasted bison you could have for your picnic."
"Even better if you do it in winter," added the engineer Josh, "when you have all those tons of snow there to flash into live steam. Then you could have mega-boulders rolling off the mountains when they get unfrozen and squash the tourist bus flat just before the tourists get flash-fried. More humane that way."
"Will you guys cut that out! That's hardly the way to encourage tourism. I'll be out of a job and homeless!"
"You can move in with me," offered Marcel.
"Hey wait! I'm just getting started, guys. The rumbling of the earthquake scares a pack of wolves that goes after a herd of bison, thousands of 'em, and they stampede, which causes an avalanche that blocks a river that causes a flood that…"
"Enough with he disasters, already! This week has had enough disasters for the rest of the year."
"I'm telling, so shut up," replied Maja. "I've been hit with a plague of pregnancies. I have four women and two men taking pregnancy leave in the next couple of weeks."
"What the hell? Was there a bad batch of birth control pills on the market eight months ago?"
"Maybe something in the water at your place?"
"If there was, it didn't work on me," Maja snickered.
"No matter how much you drink you'd still need some help for that, Maja," laughed Yasuyo. "I bet you wouldn't have to go through the HR department to find a volunteer."
"Can you imagine the employment application for that job?"
"Name? Address? Years of experience? Length of…"
"Let's not be crude, people. I have enough pregnancy problems without being pregnant myself."
"Well, the offer's still open," replied Marcel.
"And you'd probably want to take pictures of the entire experience."
"Why not? Might be an art book in it."
"You try to make pictures of my privates public and you'll find yourself missing your own private parts."
"But if they get published they won't be private any more."
"Neither will yours when they're hanging off the antenna on the Freedom Tower."
"Whew! I'm safe! No way you would climb that pointy thing to hang my pointy thing."
"It wouldn't be pointy at that point, get my point?"
"I suppose she would have the balls to do it, even if she borrowed yours, Marcel."
"I'm going to have to cut you off if we don't change the subject, guys."
"I have not yet begun… to drink!"
"Then where did all those dead soldiers come from, Josh?"
"Maja, of course. She's a Maja drinker, you know."
"You aren't drunk enough to start slurring your words,yet, old buddy." snickered Maja.
"Then let's have another round."
"You order, then. Maja and I need to powder our noses." said Yasuyo.
"Yeah, right! That's an absurd circumlocution."
"He can't be that drunk if he got that one out. Let's go, Yasuyo."
With that the ladies departed.
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea to me, either Josh."
"What, powdering you nose?"
"Translated into men-speak that means I have to take a wicked piss."
I'd go with you, but I don't think men are allowed to go to piss in flocks."
"Hell, Josh, channel your inner woman and let it all hang out. I count far too many bottles to put it off much longer."
"If I were completely sober I would find some objection to that phrasing, but as I'm half pissed I shall accompany you and become unpissed."
"Good thing I'm half pissed, I actually understood what you just said."
"Hey Patel!" Josh called to the barman. "We'll be back in a minute for another round."
"...and then my idiot boss turns around and says 'Just stomp on the damn thing until it fits!' Is it any wonder I changed jobs?"
Believe me, you don't have to know the whole story, it was just barely funny enough that everybody laughed after a few beers. If you're sober there's no sense repeating the alleged joke.
When he got his breath back, Josh turned to Maja and said "Do you know that's about the thirty-seventh time you've pulled up you bra strap since you got here?"
Josh, being an engineer, didn't notice the looks that passed between Marcel and Yasuyo as he commented on Maja's bra strap. Yasuyo had an expression that could only be called triumphant on her face, and Maja was trying hard to keep her face straight..
"Perhaps that's because the stinking thing keeps falling down," she replied.
"Aren't they adjustable?"
"Trust an engineer to ask a question like that."
"Trust a management flunky to not answer the question."
"Of course they're adjustable, but some stupid and obviously male engineer designed my bra with the adjusters on the back. I'd have to remove it to do anything with it."
"That doesn't strike me as a totally objectionable thing to do," answered Marcel.
"See that bouncer over there?"
"He's kind of hard to miss."
"I think he might have objections to me doing a strip tease in his bar."
"I defy you to find a guy who would object to seeing you remove your bra."
"There are women present, too, horn-dog."
"Like me," tossed in Yasuyo. "Although I would be rather more apt to be jealous. If I took off my bra nobody would notice."
"Yasi, my sweet, I would certainly notice. And appreciate it immensely," replied Josh. "I just don't understand why people design things that are hard to adjust."
"Ah, Josh old man, it is all in the pursuit of beauty and fashion," replied Marcel. "Once upon a time bras used to have the sliders just above the cup so the woman could easily adjust them, but when thinner fabrics replaced those thick, iron-maiden cotton blouses the adjusters made these distracting little bumps that drew the male eye from the pleasant curve of the breast. Since women's fashions were long ago divorced common sense, the adjusters are on the back so horn-dogs like yourself could feast their eyes on the unobstructed arc of your favorite model's mammaries."
"That's easy for you to say. 'Model's mammaries. Model's mummaries. Model's mumm-ar-itz.' "
"Could you have the cooth to look somewhere besides my tits when you mumble stuff like that?" asked Maja.
"I've lost my cooth and don't know where to find it. Can I look at yours, Yasuyo?"
"I think we have already established that I have modest mammaries, so I suppose I could stand you staring at them. Most men do, anyway"
"Genetic programming. We wouldn't have babies if men didn't associate boobs with boinking."
"You're cut off, Josh. You may silently appreciate my attributes but don't say anything out loud."
"You're talking, Josh. That's a no-no. One more word and you can find out what it's like to have a double-D cup bouncing around in front of your body."
"I like having your double-D cup bouncing around in front of my body!"
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant was warned. He was given an explanation. Nevertheless, he persisted, knowing full well the penalty for disobedience. Have you anything to say before sentence is passed?"
"Have you been admitted to the bar, councilor?"
"Of course! Who do you think bought the last round? Patel took my money and gave me the drinks right there at the bar"
"You should try for an Australian accent, Maja. More suitable to a kangaroo court."
"Irrelevant, immaterial and annoying. The defendant shall be fitted with an electronic tracking brassiere with double-D cups and suitable lead filling until such time as he rediscovers his couth or his bra straps stretch to his knees. Case dismissed!"
"An electronic tracking brassiere? My, my! Homeland's research labs must have outdone themselves."
"Really. I was just reading about it. They really are making electronic bras."
"So Radio Shack has a lingerie department now?" queried Yasuyo.
"Nah," replied Josh. "Radio shack went belly up a while back."
"Don't tell me Victoria's Secret is hawking cell phones!"
"That would be Victoria's CIA-cret. Think of all the politicians you could compromise with an electronic bra that transmits everything to a clandestine receiver."
"Can it do video? I'm still waiting to see The Donald's pee tape."
"You'd have to ask Vladimir."
"How did we end up on politics when we were discussing Josh in a bra?"
"Diversionary tactics - essential to any political discussion."
"We were discussing the seeming need for men to stare at large breasts."
"And that ain't part of politics? You'd better give Stormy Daniels a call for clarification."
"Objection! The defendant is using diversionary tactics again," exclaimed Yasuyo.
"And you do you intend to implement this sentence? The Mall would be closed before we could get there."
"Academy is open until ten. We could get him a sports bra and then go over to the fishing supplies and stock up on lead sinkers. Maybe even a fishnet to wrap the little suckers in."
"Creative thinking, but not what I had in mind. I want him to know what it's like to have these babies bouncing around on his body, not squashed in place."
"Neither of us could loan him anything that would fit, although we could snap two of mine together and they might wrap around your manly chest," Yasuyo said.
"And then I could join the sideshow. 'See the man with four - count 'em! - four modest mammaries. Poke his nipples and see if…' Ouch!"
"You are doing a miserable job in discovering your couth. The court appends the sentence to include a garter belt and hose." ruled Maja.
"Now just a minute!"
"Some people just won't learn. Make that with three inch heels."
Josh was finally getting the message. He kept his mouth shut but, in true engineering fashion, replied with a primitive form of digital communication.
"Ladies - and proto-lady," Marcel offered, "I may have a solution to your conundrum. I've been shooting the new catalog for a line of full-figure fashions. We could adjourn to my studio and I might be able to supply your needs."
"I don't have no stinkin' needs, Marcel."
"How soon they forget. Four inch heels. Shut up and pay the tab."
Josh did remember to only reply digitally this time.
Our intrepid foursome is far too young to remember WWII directly, but there was a scene in a popular cartoon of the era where a group of inebriated men - naturally in top hat and tails - wobble down the street clutching each other for support while singing How Dry I Am in harmonies that would make a Welsh men's chorus proud. These were the spiritual ancestors of our quartet, never mind that the song they attempted to sing was Beyonce's Drunk on Love and the harmony was far from perfect.
Fortunately for the ears of those they passed, Marcel's studio was only a few blocks away. The restored warehouse offered what passed for reasonable rent in New York City, but would be considered scandalous in any other place. Marcel, who was quite successful at his trade, lived in a small attached apartment and had plenty of room for his business. At the moment that business included several racks of fashions for the previously mentioned women's clothing catalog, plus various lights, props and do-dads necessary to creating the proper feeling in a photograph.
As our heroes were milling about, Josh spotted a rack of swimwear.
"That is one ugly swimsuit, Marcel old buddy. What? No bikinis?"
"I told you this was a shoot for queen size customers. For them Bikini is an island in the middle of the ocean."
"You'd look cute in that red-and-white striped number, Josh," offered Maja.
"May a shark bite your tongue, woman."
"He's be more likely to go after your dangly-bits."
"Speaking of dangly-bits," piped up Yasuyo, "it would be pretty hard to hide them if Josh wore this little number."
"Where's that shark when you need him?"
"Shark-schmark. I like my dangly-bits."
"There are ways to hide them safely, Josh. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." snickered Marcel.
"And how would you know?"
"Professional expertise. My clients include quite a few men who wish they were women - at least part of the time."
"Sounds like we came to the right place, eh Josh?" snickered Maja.
"I don't think I'm drunk enough to do this, guys." muttered Josh.
"Are you too drunk to shave?" asked Marcel.
"Most of my trans clients like to start off with a good, close shave. There are disposable razors in the john."
"Want some help, Josh?" queried Yasuyo.
"Suddenly you've become a Geisha?"
"You have a kimono in all this stuff, Marcel?"
"Sadly, no. There is a sweet Chinese style red dress, but you aren't Chinese you and aren't queen-size."
"Yeah. Everyone tells me I'm cute. A girl can get sick of being cute."
"Maybe some of it will rub off on me," grumped Josh.
''I'll be the judge of that," grinned Maja.
"You're very judgemental tonight, your honor."
"It's one of my most endearing traits. Off you go and shave close. Be sure those pecs are clean of any fuzz. Oh, and you'll need these."
"Boxers and bras don't mix."
"I'll have you know I prefer briefs."
"The court recognizes your briefs. Now off with you!"
As they went off to shave, Marcel turned to Maja.
"My dear, I had no idea how we were going to pull this off, but your Judge routine was inspired!"
"I'm rather proud of how I did it, myself. The poor sucker doesn't suspect a thing, does he?" remarked Maja.
"He certainly doesn't know what Yasi is plotting."
"No way. Josh is a sweet guy, but clueless when it comes to women. That night we had those drag queens came in was revealing. One look at Josh and anyone but an engineer could see the desire on his face."
"Sure it wasn't desire for the drag queen and not the desire to be a drag queen?"
"It was wistful desire and not sexy desire. Besides, there have been times when I spotted the residue of nail polish on his cuticles. You, on the other hand, are all sexy desire."
"You need to quit your job and go into the psychic business. I'd deny the whole thing but it wouldn't do me any good, would it?"
"You know the penalties for lying to a judge."
"Care to go into detail? I might be fun…"
"Not now, tiger. We have a scam to pull on our friend, who hasn't got a clue we know what we know."
"It's hard to tell with Josh. As long as he thinks it's fun then we go with it."
"That's good. Let's keep it fun, OK?"
"You've done this before, haven't you." asked Maja.
"A time or two."
"And is it fun for you?"
"More fun than the proverbial barrel of monkeys."
"Is that politically correct?"
"About as politically correct as a black man in a dress."
"That is a picture of you in the waiting room?"
"You have sharp eyes."
"Sharp enough to see what the two of you were thinking when those drag queens came into the bar."
"I try hard to present as a normal woman, not a black Jewish drag queen. Some things are a bit much to take."
"One of these days we'll have to go on a date."
"One thing at a time. Let's get Josh comfortable sharing his feminine side before we hit him with my feminine side," Marcel replied.
"Who said anything about Josh coming along?"
"Oh… Let me think about that. Marcie doesn't go out in public much."
"They're coming back - we'll talk about this later."
"Your honor, it has come to my attention that I was not properly represented in this evening's proceedings. May I pray the court to suspend sentence until I can engage proper representation?"
"What? The whole thing started because you had to keep carping about how inefficiently my boobs were suspended. We are now about to suspend your boobs - or a reasonable facsimile - which was your sentence in the first place," grinned Maja.
"May it please the court? I don't have any boobs," whined Josh.
"Your honor, may I present an amicus brief?" Marcel queried.
"Some friend you are," muttered Josh.
"Order in the court! You are recognized, my friend."
"As a full service photographer to many trans clients, I can provide your reasonable facsimiles in a range of sizes."
"God! With friends like you…"
"... You'll experience firsthand the joys of adjusting bra straps."
"I want to watch!" cooed Yasuyo. "Sometimes a girl like me could wish for a little more zoom in the bosom."
"Only if I get to watch you."
"That may have to wait for later, Yasi. Right now I'm only equipped for queen size people." Marcel replied.
"Darn!" grumped Josh.
"Then I want a copy of the glamour shot when you get done with Josh."
"That could be arranged."
"Like hell!" moaned Josh.
"Enough yacking!" ruled Maja. "Carry out the sentence already!"
"Double-D if I remember the judge's wishes?"
"You got anything bigger?"
"Wait a minute!" Josh was laughing. "I thought men were the ones supposed to be hooked on big bazoobas."
"The bazoobas are going on a man, right. What's the problem?"
"My supply of bras in sizes bigger than double-D is rather thin. The catalog people want you to look at the dress, not the bazoobas. What size bra do you wear, Josh?"
"How the hell do I know?"
"I know I have a tape measure around here somewhere." Once again there was a unexplained look of triumph on Yasi's face. "Ah, here it is. Just breathe normally, my good man."
"Just wait until the falsies hit your pecs. They'll warm up in a minute but at first…"
"Oh joy! Why am I letting you do this?"
"Because you're half-drunk," Yasuyo snickered, "And I think it's cute."
"Well, as long as you think it's cute who am I to complain?"
"You're a 40DD, just like Dolly Parton. Remember that for the next time."
"Like there's going to be a next time!"
"While you're drying, I dug out a picture from my files. It could be worse, Josh, we could be doing this a hundred years ago before they invented modern materials. Look at what passed for a cup adjuster back then."
"Jesus! That's a big as a golf ball!" marveled Josh.
"More like a moth ball, but you had to wear a lot of layers to cover stuff like that up."
Good thing we have some modern blouses and dresses available, eh?"
"Oh, I am just so lucky," came his flat response.
"You want a bra with blue paisley or some sweet little violets?"
"You have got to be kidding!"
"Hey, women just love sexy underwear and merchants can sell a lot more of the stuff if it isn't plain, boring old white."
"If that's true, then I think Maja should show me her bra so I can test the hypothesis."
"Josh, I know damn well you can see my bra through this blouse. Why do you think I wore it?"
"Seductress! I can see pink somethings, but I don't quite know what they are."
"Roses, my boy. Watch out for the thorns."
"I think the hypothesis is proved, Josh." Yasuyo said. "See - little green diamonds." Yasuyo obligingly lifted her blouse to reveal her bra.
"See Maja, Josh gloated. "Some people are more cooperative than others."
"And some people are putting off putting on their bra. Make your choice."
"The violets. Paisley went out with my grandparents."
"So, Ms Engineer, I propose you take the adjusters all the way out as you likely have broader shoulders than most women would. If that's too far I'm sure Yasuyo would be glad to help."
"I have no doubt of it, but the whole idea is making you do this by yourself," replied Judge Maja in stern tones.
"That brings up another question," replied Josh. "Why do these things have to snap in the back? Front closures would be more convenient."
"So they are, but if your intent is to let some hornydog stare clear down to your navel while you are seducing him, a front closure is too frickin' big."
"Not tonight, you won't!"
"Any other takers? Yasuyo?"
"You show me yours and I'll show you mine."
"Now that's evenhanded justice for you!"
"You're still stalling."
"OK, I hear and obey, master."
With that Josh slid his hands into the bra and fumbled it closed.
"How do the straps feel? Marcel asked.
"Besides weird, are they binding?"
"I don't think so."
"Good, now take it off."
"What? I just got the damn thing on!"
"I knew you'd like wearing a bra," snickered Maja."
"What the hell? You think I'm going to get hooked on the first hit? Damn druglord!"
"You did pretty well with the hooks for a newbie, but you gotta have your boob job before it has anything to support."
"I damn well hope you don't have a surgical suite among your props, Marcel."
"Nah, I'll just use a kitchen knife and my emergency sewing kit. One must have an emergency sewing kit to cope with wardrobe malfunctions in this business."
"My insurance requires pre-approval for surgical procedures and I'm afraid I don't approve."
"Such a shame. I was hoping to open a new sideline for the business. In that case, lay back and we'll do something a little less radical."
"Less radical than turning me into a woman?"
"Considering where you started," Maja offered, "It looks like a distinct improvement."
"I question your judgement, Judge."
"Who cares? Marcel, apply the sentence."
"This is going to tickle a bit, Josh, but keep still or you'll get glue in places where glue shouldn't be applied."
"I'm not ticklish."
"Just my luck."
Marcel again used his tape measure and made a few discrete dots on Josh's body, then brushed on some surgical glue.
"Not bad so far, but a bit chilly." Josh said. Those things look positively obscene."
Marcel was applying glue to two large prosthetic breasts.
"Just wait until you're wearing them, Dolly. Maybe we can call you Jolene when you're finished." With that Marcel carefully placed the first quivering silicone mound.
"Aaarghh! That's cold!" cried Josh.
"Wimp! Here comes the other one."
"Now lay still for a few minutes while the glue sets. They'll warm up and feel almost like part of your body."
"That easy for you to say. You're not being quick frozen."
"Nothing quick about it, old buddy. That glue is good for a week or more."
"You wouldn't want to have your boob fall off at the wrong time, would you?"
"Is there a right time to have a boob fall off?" asked Yasuyo.
"An existential question if I ever heard one!"
"These things are stuck on me for a week?"
"After all," grinned Maja, "mine have been stuck on me for considerably more than a week."
"Could I point out a fundamental flaw in your reasoning, Maja?"
"Me? Flawed reasoning? Nonsense!"
"I couldn't think of a better way to describe this whole evening. Nonsense works perfectly." Josh had a very bemused look on his face. "I might remind you that males do not generally come equipped with breasts. Especially not double-D honkers. I do have to turn up for work on Monday."
"Now won't that be exciting. Can I come along and watch what happens?"
"Only if you're willing to adopt me when I get canned."
"I suppose we could share my wardrobe until you got a job at some tawdry sex shop where your boobs would be a real draw. Then you can start buying your own dresses."
"OK Marcel, how do I get these things off?"
"Off? I just put them on, I have no idea how to get them off. You've wasted enough time with your silly questions that the glue has set. Put on your bra and we'll see how you look."
As Josh sat up he exclaimed "Jesus! These things are heavy!"
"Bounce 'em around a bit and see how they feel."
"Maja, you are going to pay for this someday!"
"Need any help adjusting the straps, old man?"
"I am not old! Ummm. Do I have them right?"
"A little tighter, I think," Yasuyo offered. "Here, let me help."
"Thanks." Josh wiggled around a bit. "That feels much better."
"We need to do something with your hair."
"We don't have time to give you a permanent, but we do have a curling iron. Some nice loose curls, I think."
"Sounds good," opined Marcel. I'll plug in the torture stick while you do the makeup, Maja."
"Hey - I want to do her makeup," exclaimed Yasuyo."
"Be my guest. A nighttime party look, after all these are glamour shots."
"Right. Come over here, Jocelyn."
"When I get done with you there won't be anyone going to call you Josh. Consider this your naming ceremony."
"Be careful there, Yasuyo, Marcel said. "In my tradition a naming ceremony for a male is usually part of a bris."
"Then good thing Jocelyn is a girl tonight."
"Damn right. Boobs are one thing, sharp hardware near my whatsis is quite another."
"Don't worry, Jocelyn, your whatsis is safe with me. You never can tell when a girl might need to borrow a whatsis."
"Just like you never can tell when a guy might need to borrow a bra and breasts, I guess."
"Keep your mouth shut while I'm working on you or you'll look like a clown."
"As if I could not look like a clown wearing a dress and makeup."
"Not to demean your possession of a whatsis, but you have a rather androgynous face. You're going to look just fine."
"Even with a few beers in me I have a hard time believing that."
"I said stop talking!"
"OK Marcel, she's ready for the torture device."
"Were torture devices were part of this so-called sentence?" moaned Jocelyn
"Now Jocelyn, I want you to think back to your misspent youth," commanded Maja.
"I think I spent my youth very well, thank you."
"Perhaps, but I think I can rightly assume from you fascination with bras that you spent some of your youth perusing a catalog or two looking at ladies in their underwear."
"I suppose so, but in my case I was dreaming of wearing it while you were dreaming of taking it off somebody."
"Uh, maybe… So this whole silly thing is because you wanted to wear sexy underwear?"
"Don't change the subject. I'm sure you drooled over the women in corsets on those pages."
"Would it do me any good to deny it?"
"Not one little, teeny bit! Thus we come to the torture device. Is the corset ready, Marcel?"
"Padded and ready, Madame Judge."
"Now just a minute!" moaned Jocelyn as she jumped to her feet.
"Don't you love the way her tits bobble when she moves fast, Yasuyo?"
"It does have a certain fascination. Maybe a boob job would be worth it to find out what it feels like from the inside."
"Believe me, men get a lot more charge out of it than the owner of the tits," Maja said.
"Look guys, wearing a bra is one thing - it actually feels pretty comfortable - but that corset looks distinctly uncomfortable!"
"Which is why very few women wear the damn things unless they are seducing some misbegotten man. However, in your case you need a little help to get your body to curve in the right places and a padded corset is just the ticket."
"And you just happened to have one lying around that would fit me?"
"Several, old girl. Even queen size women want to look sexy for their men. However, I'd be willing to bet most of them don't wear them any longer than it takes to get naked for their prospective bed partner."
"Some poor sucker would get a hell of a surprise if he managed to get that corset off of me, wouldn't they?"
"So keep it on, we'll all feel a lot more comfortable."
After some few minutes of poking, prodding and adjusting Jocelyn had a reasonable set of feminine curves. Her complaints dropped off, but that may have more to do with being unable to breathe rather than enjoying the experience.
"I think this little number suits you," offered Maja. "Here, put it on."
"You've got to be kidding!"
"You have something against gold lamé?"
"I am not a sex symbol, fer cryin' out loud!"
"Josh honey," cooed Yasuyo, "you are one of the sexiest men alive."
"Yeah, sure! Give me a gold lamé jockstrap, but sexy men don't wear gold lamé dresses."
"At this point you're well on your way to being one very sexy woman."
"Oh joy and rapture," said Josh in a very flat voice.
"Yeah, I can see just how much you hate it."
"I feel pretty stupid getting dressed with all of you staring at me."
"Yeah, it's usually when a woman gets undressed that people stare at her."
"Want to give it a try, Maja?" queried Jocelyn.
It's your night to shine, honey, not mine."
"Darn!" grumped Marcel.
"Can we get this over with before I pass out from lack of oxygen?"
"I believe Yasuyo was going to do her makeup?"
"With what you've got in this place I could turn a rag doll into an angel," replied Yasuyo.
"Damn! I'm going to be a transgendered angel! The Lord works in mysterious ways."
"Where I come from the Lord Buddha doesn't do shit like this," scolded Yasuyo.
"And we wouldn't be doing shit like this if we weren't shitfaced. I'm starting to worry about how these pictures will come out if the photographer is half in the bag."
"As long as it's his equipment bag, it should work out fine. If you don't like them we can always do it over tomorrow night," grinned Maja.
"Threats! More threats she gives me."
"Get your pretty little ass in that chair and let the painting begin."
"I'll have you know my ass has never been pretty and with all this damn padding it can't be considered little."
"And if it wasn't so thoroughly padded I'd pinch the damn thing to get you moving."
Jocelyn moved with all the alacrity available to her in her somewhat inebriated state. Truth to tell, the whole thing had taken so long that the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off our intrepid quartet. This was the proverbial good thing as a shaking hand was not really suited to a respectable makeup job.
In fact, by the time Jocelyn was pronounced ready, the gang was almost sober.
"You ever done any modeling, Jocelyn?" queried Maurice.
"Does posing for my high school graduation shot count?"
"Only if you're a Transylvanian Count - uh - noblewoman."
"Bloody good I'm not then. Sorry, but the only posing I've done resulted in a strip of four blurry sepia prints at the state fair."
"I can work with that grin, Jocelyn. It's rather endearing, actually."
"Uh, Maja - I know I'm going to regret this, but my left bra strap is slipping."
"My, my! What a problem! The usual solution is to insert a finger under the strap and slide upwards until it goes back into place."
"I'll insert my finger into…"
"Jocelyn! Remember you're a lady now. Keep your thoughts pure and clean."
"Jocelyn," offered Yasuko, "I won't insist on being a lady, but I might be interested in that finger under the right circumstances."
"Do you always get horny when you get drunk?"
"If you're dressed for the occasion."
"You have got to be kidding me!"
"Excuse me," interrupted Marcel, "but we came her to take some pictures."
"I bet you'd find quite a market if you shot them doing what Yasuyo has in mind," offered Maja.
"Sorry, but the clothes are on loan; that kind of thing can get messy and I don't want to explain stains and such."
"Want to go shopping, Jocelyn?"
"It's twelve-thirty in the morning, fer cryin' out loud! I should be taking my clothes off about now, not shopping for new ones."
"They don't come off until we get pictures, my friend. Your bra strap is slipping again."
"Then somebody adjust the misbegotten dohicky on the strap for me so we can get this over!"
"My pleasure," answered Maja. "I have some experience in the field."
"As will I, if these boobs are really glued to my body."
"You will be wise in the ways of women by the end of the weekend, old girl."
"Old! That's a base canard if I… That tickles!"
"I thought you said you weren't ticklish. There, you should be hanging evenly now."
"Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro…" sang Jocelyn."
"Americans are a very strange breed, aren't they Marcel?" asked Yasuyo.
"Don't ask me - I'm one of them and that ditty was normal when I grew up."
"You grew up? Will wonders never cease?"
Enough! Jocelyn, sit over there and relax. Smile. Project your love of all things feminine."
With that, Marcel the slightly drunk conspirator became Marcel the professional photographer. I'm sure you've read many detailed descriptions of just how a photo session works, so I'll leave it to your imagination as Jocelyn became more relaxed and comfortable with her new appendages.
Two hours later everybody was yawning and it was obvious that the session was over.
"OK people, you've had your fun. I'll even admit I've had some fun, but this corset is killing me. I can see just why real women don't wear them for anything but getting a man drooling. I'll even bet the woman is even more eager to get the damn thing off her body than the man is. I'm ready for bed, friends."
With that Jocelyn performed an impromptu striptease and dropped the dress she was wearing. "Who's going to unlace this thing for me?"
"Who indeed?" snickered Maja."
"Poor little girl," laughed Yasuyo. "I suppose I could help - if you promise to be a good girl for me."
"I'm too new at this girl stuff to promise to be good at it."
"Then I'll settle for a promise to be downright naughty when we get home."
"I do believe your roommate would be a bit surprised if Jocelyn came home and used your bed. You can't remove the glue until we let you." With that she gave Jocelyn's falsie a little finger bump and watched it wiggle.
"And you expect me to walk on the public thoroughfares looking like this?"
"Just put on one of those dashikis or moo-moos or whatever you call those brightly colored circus tents on the rack over there. No one will see your figure - or lack of one. You'd better put on a bra first, though."
"Jeez - I feel so much like a woman having to decide which bra to wear."
"The one with the little green diamonds. I got it just for you so you'd match me." Yasuyo said with a straight face as she once again lifted her blouse a few inches."
"You… got… it.. just… for… me?
"How'd you know my size?"
"You're an engineer. The label on your shirt is sticking out of the neck half the time. All I had to do was read it. You damned engineers have to be hit over the head to realize when you're being seduced. I've been hinting for months and you just didn't get it!"
"What the hell kind of romance novels have you been reading? You seduce me by making me wear a bra and sticking great lumps of wiggly jelly on my pecs? Weird!"
"I have a few of my own kinks, sweetheart. When I saw how your tongue hung out when the drag queens came into the bar a while back I knew you wouldn't object too strenuously."
"I'm not sure I want to be in bed with a mind reader."
"I don't intend to read your mind - just your body. In braille!"
"Marcel? Can I borrow a couple of things to wear over the weekend? A girl needs to be prepared for whatever will happen."
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