Author's Note: This story is based on the vacation I wish I could take. Once Shelly gets home, things really change, but that's for follow-up chapters!


Chapter One

It finally happened; my wife left me -- on vacation -- but not before she took everything I owned and put it all in storage. Well, not everything perhaps, but everything anyone would normally associate with being a man. Of course I agreed to it. I even helped pack all my male clothing and left nothing for an emergency because this was something I had wanted for a long time.

When I was done packing, the only thing I had left were square dance dresses and several footed pajamas and the nightgown I was wearing. It was all part of our agreement. Shelly wanted to visit her mother back east and I wanted to stay home and live as my female self, Samantha, for two weeks, with no way to dress as a guy or to use the toilet at home.

We have been married twenty years, our kids are both grown, are out of the house and have families of their own several hundred miles away. Now it is just me and my wife living in our medium sized three bedroom house in one of the many Chicago neighborhoods. The house backs up to a fairly busy street where the bus route will take me to the elevated trains, and then to anywhere in the city I may want to go. However, Shelly made sure things would not be that easy.

The telephone rang at half past seven in the morning and woke me from my sleep. I was wearing the nightgown Shelly had given me for Christmas. She was on a layover in Atlanta. "I took the dress you wore last night. Its in the car at O'Hare Airport. I decided you needed to learn for yourself what a pain petticoats are when that's all you have. I also took the liberty last week and had all the petticoats and square dance dresses sewn together so you'll have no choice but to wear the petticoats too. Oh, and just so you know, I also bought three new 120 yard petticoats and added them to your collection. You can thank me when I get home darling. Enjoy!" She laughed and hung up before I could say anything. I was shocked, but then realized it just made my predicament that much more real. Again, that was what I wanted, I kept telling myself.

It turned out to be true of course. While I packed my male things, Shelly packed my normal female things. The only things Shelly left out were my most feminine girly outfits. Now, if I wanted to go out, it would be in a square dance dress with attached petticoats and high heels. I had no other choice. To make matters worse, I soon discovered there was no food in the house. Shelly told me she had gone grocery shopping the day before, but she lied. If I was going to survive for two weeks, I had to go out at some point and buy some groceries. Additionally, when I checked my purse, there was no cash left. Shelly had made sure there was also no cash in our secret storage container in the basement. With no cash in the house, I could not even order take-out.

The telephone rang again. "Hello darling. I forgot to tell you, I made you a hair appointment this morning for ten at your usual place. Don't be late. Goodbye and have fun!" Again, she hung up before I could ask any questions.

My hair is long for a man, but medium shoulder length for a woman, and styled for a woman. Over the past year, I signed a contract with a wonderful young beautician named "Gabby" to gradually make me more feminine every month. At first, it was fun, but then my wife found out about it and decided that while I should have my fun, it should be serious too. She came in one day while my hair was in rollers and talked to Gabby. Once under the dryer, I could see the two of them looking through books together. If I wanted to look like a woman, than by golly Gabby would make sure it happened. At this point, I could not change my mind. Also at that point, Gabby could only do to me what Shelly told her to do. Naturally that meant my eyebrows, arms, legs, back, and chest, were then kept waxed, my hair has been getting colored for months now. Lastly, my nails always have a clear coat of "no chip" shellac. Like artificial nails, my nails are now very long for a man, but so far lacked any color. I was sure today that would change soon enough.

After Shelly began giving orders to Gabby, my life changed for good. My wife became my girl friend and I became her lesbian lover. Whenever I was not at work, I was Samantha and expected to transition every night as soon as possible after walking through the door. She also had a wonderful feminine cat like pink collar for me with a tiny matching lock. Shelly had the only key for it. I put it on first thing after walking in the door and then continued into the back bedroom.

Eventually, every male article of clothing, except for my work clothing, was donated to the Salvation Army. We even sold my car and got a storage shed a few miles away. Shelly, my wife, kept the keys to the shed. Anything she thought was too masculine for our house was relocated there, sold, or given away. Eventually, our house was transformed into a traditionally feminine house, complete with rose colored wall paper and a pink bedroom with a full canopy bed.

Everything was idyllic until about a month ago when Shelly's mother called and asked when we were coming out for a visit. It had been two years and I really did not want to go. Every time I went I was bored silly. Shelly on the other-hand really wanted to visit her mother and the New Jersey beaches. "Well, what do you want to do instead?" Shelly asked.

It took the plunge and said, "I want to stay home and be Samantha for two weeks."

Shelly stopped cutting the carrots. Her face paled. After about twenty-seconds she asked, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, somewhat ashamed that I spoke it out loud.

"Because that would be fine with me as long as I knew you had to be Samantha the whole time. No chance to back out. Nothing to wear except for what Samantha would wear. No turning back, and no car."

"No car?"

"As Samantha, you do not need a car. The bus goes right by the end of the street. You can take the train anywhere else you might want to go."

I thought about it for a minute and then said, "Yes, I'm sure." I said, before any second thoughts.

"Okay. If that's what you really want. I plan to be gone two weeks. Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. How many times do I have to tell you to convince you?" I sat down out of breath.

Shelly sat down next to me and said sweetly, "Samantha, you're smearing your make-up. Why don't you go upstairs and powder your nose while I figure out how to make your vacation a reality. Go on Samantha, get up there and fix your face. I want to see a smile when you come back down. Oh yeah, and put on that pink and purple square dance dress that I like."

That was two weeks ago. This morning I wore my nightgown. I looked through my closet containing my wardrobe for the next two weeks. I had less than two hours to get out of the house to catch the bus for the salon. As I shaved, put on my foundation, and then my make-up, I wondered what Gabby's instructions were. I knew I had two weeks as Samantha. Nothing I could say to Gabby would stop her from doing whatever Shelly told her to do to me. This was going to be a wonderful vacation, or so I thought.


Chapter Two

I won't bore you about the bus ride to the salon. I got a great deal of attention and most people thought I was going to a square dance or costume party. A guy asked me if I lost a bet. An older woman asked how long I had been dancing. I replied all my life and left it at that. However, when I got to the salon, I noticed one major difference. Gabby's station, in the back of the salon had brown paper over all the mirrors. I was not going to be able to see what she was doing to my hair.

"Come along Samantha, don't be a nuisance. Get yourself over to my station! Hurry up, we've got a lot to do this morning." Gabby said as she picked up the broom. Playfully, she used the broom to corral me over to her chair. "That sure a pretty dress. I love the petticoats. What do you think, Martha?" Martha was the owner of the place.

"Yes ma'am, I like it too! You are going to look lovely when we are done with you!" Every Saturday for thirty-five years Martha came down to the salon and helped out. At least that's what she called it. The girls in the salon pretended to enjoy her company, but in truth they felt like she was the Mother hen always picking on their choices of products and men. To me Martha said, "Ah, here for the full treatment today are we?"

"Now you know we're not supposed to give Samantha any choices in the matter. It's in the contract he signed." Gabby said and then with a smile, "Besides, you'll ruin the surprise!" Then they both laughed gleefully.

With that, I was poked, prodded, waxed and shellacked. My hair was put up, taken down, and washed, and then washed again. It smelled bad, but looked great in the curlers. Liquid was added and then I was put under the dryer. All the while, I was in heaven. Gabby took me to the back room and told me to lay down on the sun tan table wearing just my underwear. She told me to wear my bra and fell asleep. Luckily, the timer when off before I burned. Even so, I had the tell tale white marks of my bra on my bare skin. I instinctively knew there was no way I could go topless without everyone knowing I wear a bra.

The next step was back to the chair. My hands, now manicured with a bright pink shellacking was in direct contrast to the deep dark green of the apron on me. My hair had a ton of rollers and bobby pins holding it all together. Gabby promised me my hair was going to be beautiful, but I could not look until she was done. Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes, the last roller was out of my hair and we marched back to the rinsing chair one more time before going back to her chair. It felt good to have all the weight of rollers, off my head. It was then the real fun began. Gabby was going at me with a hair blower, hair brush, spray, and more curling irons before finally putting everything away and pulling out her digital camera. "Smile for the birdie, Samantha!" With the flash we both giggled. However, I stopped laughing when she showed me what was on the two inch camera screen. My hair was a mound of curls, now hot pink and blond.

"How long will this last?" I nervously asked.

"It's permanent, or at least as permanent as your hair." Gabby fumbled with the mirror. "As your hair grows out, so will curls and pink frosting of your blond hair. Three months and you can actually trim the hair and be back to..."

"Three months? I'm supposed to be back at work in two weeks!" I gasped.

Shelly laughed, "Well, you can still be back to work in two weeks, but you are going to do it with pink and blond hair set up in a curly bee hive retro fifties look. So you might just get used to it!" Gabby said storming out of the room in a fit of laughter.

The rest of the women in the salon just looked at me bewildered. In the corner, one woman customer giggled and laughed. Under her breath I'm sure she said the word, "Freak," but I could not be sure.

Instead, I got up, put the apron in the chair, straightened out my petticoat and skirt and walked over to the cash register to pay for my treatments. Gabby didn't come out from the back room. Instead, Julia stepped over to the register and grabbed me by the shoulders and then hugged me tight and whispered into my ear, "Shelly's already paid for all your treatments. Make sure you are here every two days at ten a.m. We've got plenty of things planned for you. If you think you look feminine now, just you wait. I'm going to enjoy helping Gabby make you over. By the time we're done with you, you're going to look so female you'll never be able to go back to work as a guy again." I was shocked and tightened up. Julia pushed me away and looking straight into my eyes said, "After all, thats what you wanted, isn't it?"

I did not know how to respond. Yes, that was what I wanted, but was that what I really wanted? If so, what would I do for work? All this was going through my mind when Julia said, "Well don't you worry about nothin'. Gabby and Julia are here for you. You just tell us what you'd like us to do and we'll be more than happy to consider it before doing what we were paid for by Shelly." With that she laughed her way back to her client in the corner, who had been watching us that whole time. "Now get going. You've got some shoppin' to do. Now get!"

As I left the salon, I really stood out. To make matters worse, as the door began to shut, I could have sworn I heard Julia's client say the word "extensions" as the bell over the door rang. At the time, I wondered if that was for my benefit, or if it was just my imagination. Did the woman in the chair want extensions, or did Julia tell her that I was getting extensions. The truth was that it really did not matter. However, what did matter was that if I wanted food I needed and wanted to get in and out of the grocery store fast. Worse yet, I just was not comfortable yet with my new persona, and my new hair did not help a bit. Every word, every glance, and every chuckle I knew was directed right at me. I felt ashamed, humiliated, and excited all at the same time. So what could make my situation even worse? Oh Shelly had thought of that too.

Chapter Three

As I made my way through the store picking up some of this and some of that, the store manager, an older man with a combover, came up to me and asked, "Are you Samantha?"

"Ah, yes. My name is Samantha," I managed to stammer out.

"Oh good, I thought so. We have your pharmacy order ready. You can pick it up after your done shopping for your groceries."

"Ah, thank you?" I said, not sure what the order would be. When I finally got to the checkout, the store clerk, a pimple faced young red-headed boy of sixteen tried not to grin ear to ear as he checked out my groceries. A moment later, the store manage showed up with two big bags of Depends, overnight diapers.

"I trust these are the one's you'll need. If you have any problems, the rubber pants and bed cover should help keep your bed from getting to wet. I'm sorry we don't have any plastic bags big enough to fit over the Depend's bags, but they do have their own carrying straps. If there is anything else we can do, please don't hesitate to call." With that, the manager made a quick turn and marched back to the pharmacy to help with other customers. The redheaded clerk just smiled and asked, "Will that be cash or charge?"

Five plastic bags of groceries and two bags of Depend's Diapers are quite a handful on a bus, but I managed. Even so, I felt completely exposed, and the afternoon winds blowing up my petticoats did not help much, especially since my hands were busy carrying everything. When I got home I must have put on quite a show for the neighbors as I hunted for my keys. After putting the groceries away, I checked the answering machine. There were two messages. The first was an advertisement for a local man running for city council, the second was from Shelly.

"Samantha honey, make sure you put your diapers on and use them every day. Oh yeah and one more thing, I left that toilet lock you designed in the hallway closet. I'll expect you to install it and send me an email showing it on the toilet by five p.m. tonight. If I don't get that email, you know I will not be happy, and we both know what I'm like when I get angry. Don't worry about the key for the toilet lock, I've got it. Take care sweetie. Oh yeah, send me a picture of your hair too. I bet it looks lovely! Click."

I sat there, the diapers before me with a choice, either I could wear them for the next twelve days or I could try to figure out how to get the toilet open again. Of course, that would not be easy. I designed the locking toilet lid with the knowledge that I might want to open it without a key, and my fetish got the better of me. Nothing short of using a drill tool to cut through the casing or breaking the seat itself would allow me to use the toilet. Of course there was another choice, I could go squat in the back yard after dark and pretend I was on a camping trip. However that meant my neighbors might see me when they looked out of their upstairs windows. No, Shelly was right, once the toilet was locked up tight, I was going to be using the diapers unless I went somewhere else. Then I remembered my dates at the salon. Surely they would let me use their toilet when I was there.


Chapter Four

"No, Samantha. You may not use our toilet," Gabby said as she took my coat. "Shelly told us you might ask and she also told us you love wearing and using your diapers. All I can say is you had better not poop your diapers while you are here! Now get over to that chair like the good little girl you are and sit down. We've got something wonderful planned for you today."

As I sat down I felt one of the other girls come up behind me. Before I could see what was happening, I felt my arms being taped to the chair with duct tape. Next came a pair of chains for my feet on the foot rest. Finally, an oversized belt went around my waist and I felt it being pulled tight. Gabby then turned me to see a new face in the room. "This is Becky. She specializes in permanent make-up! Shelly left orders for full make-up. Since the salon is getting our Continuing Education done with you as our guinea pig, there will be no charge. Isn't that wonderful?"

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. Instead, I tried to pull at the restraints to see if I could get up and leave, but I knew it would be no use. "What if I don't sign the paperwork for the tattoos?" I asked feebly.

"You signed it last Saturday sweetie. Shall we start?" Becky asked cheerfully. "We'll start with your lids, then do your brows and finish with your lips. After that, we'll decide if to do anything else. So just sit back and enjoy the free treatments."

"Is this going to hurt?" I asked as I tried to pull an arm out of the straps holding my hands to the chair.

"Not if you don't struggle. Let me make this perfectly clear. If you try to struggle, I will make sure this hurts. I really don't want to hurt you, but I will if necessary. Now sit there like a good little girl and don't piss your diapers while I get everything ready."

An hour and a half later, the permanent make-up was done. Next came the permanent hair removal. That took much longer. It hurt a lot more. All the while, the girls kept my coffee cup full and kept holding it up for me to drink from. Every so often or so someone asked if I wet my diapers yet. Eventually, Clara suggested I be given a baby bottle to drink from the next time I came in. Everyone else agreed.

At this point, I had no idea what I looked like but I suspected it would be difficult not to look like a girl after today. When they finally finished with the first hair treatment, Gabby restyled my hair and put it into high pig tails using big marble like balls to hold them in place. Next my nails were given another coat of shellack and painted an even brighter pink. Then, Gabby took out some ribbon and tied big bows around each pig tail and warned me not to mess it up. "Shelly said she going to call on the computer later tonight and expects to see your hair properly maintained." Then Gabby unlocked my hands, feet, and belt from around my waist and told me it was time to go home. "Make sure you stop off at the pharmacy for a bottle of castor oil. You're going to need it later tonight."

When I finally got home from the pharmacy and salon, the first thing I did was change my diaper to a night time one. The diaper I wore was soaked from all the coffee I drank at the salon and it landed with a thud in the diaper pail. Next, because I was tired, I put my footed panda pajama's on. The zipper was on the front of the pajamas. With my new nails, I knew it would be easier to put on than other pajamas that had the zipper in the back. Next, I fixed myself some chicken noodle soup. As it simmered on the stove, I went into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for the first time. My eyes were perfectly made up with black mascara and eyeliner. However, I knew the eyeliner would not come off. Neither would the red lipstick on my lips. Even my eyebrows now looked perfect. I wondered if my own eyebrows would obscure the tattooed ones, but then remembered that was one of the areas the electrolysis was done. As I looked closer, I could see the red spots were my eyebrows used to be, and then noticed my new eyebrows were higher than my natural eyebrows, and shaped in the classic, "Who" look. I decided any eyebrows growing in would not cover the new ones. I heard the computer beep a soft tone and I knew it was Shelly wanting to see my new hairdo and make-up.


Chapter Six

After getting the castor oil at the pharmacy, I called Shelly back on the computer. Shelly watched me swallow three big tablespoons of castor oil, laughed, and abruptly signed off knowing that within about three hours, that castor oil would have me filling my diapers with poop. We both knew there was now no way to stop it from happening. I felt sick to my stomach.

Had I really asked for all this to happen? Shelly and Gabby both said I did. Now what do I do? How can I make it stop? At first it was a game, a fantasy, but now what was it? I could not decide. Then the telephone rang. It was my boss. He asked if it would be possible to cut my vacation short and come in next week. I said it all depended on my wife because she had plans for me all next week, but I'd see and call him back the next morning.

"You tell your boss you are not coming on Monday morning. Tell your boss your not coming in because you'll be out of town visiting my Mother in New Jersey." Shelly could see I was upset on the monitor and added, "Of course if you want to go into work as Samantha, that's okay with me, but you might have to pay the consequences if you do."

I knew Shelly was right, but said, "What if I just change back for that one day?"

"Ha, that's a laugh. You've got no male clothing, you have permanent make-up on, your hair is blond and pink, your nails are long and getting longer. You have three more appointments with Gabby. Do you think she is going to let up on you because you want to cross-dress in male clothes for a day? You know that's not going to happen. Face it my little Samantha, you are screwed. You wanted to be Samantha for two weeks and I'm not going to let you out of our agreement. Besides, you deserve two weeks off and that's what you're going get. You have no male persona left at this point, and I'm not going to let you get it back until after your vacation is over." Shelly said with a huff. "Do you want me to call your boss and explain it for you?"

"No, that won't be necessary, Shelly. I'll do it." I sat there over my coffee looking at Shelly on the monitor. She was beautiful and smiled back at me. I knew she was right and said so.

"Now call your boss right now, but leave me on the monitor so I can hear you."

"Yes, dear," I grumbled. With that, I took my cell out and pushed the number on speed dial. when he answered, I could hear the machinery going in the background, cutting in and out on the mobile phone, but I could tell it sounded like it was going full speed for a change. With the economy in a nose dive, we had been getting fewer and fewer orders from the car companies. But now industry orders had picked up, and with Chrysler starting up its new run in Belvedere, the work around our subsidiary plant increased too. Several weeks ago, Mr. Johnson, my boss and the vice-president of the company said publicly they were considering adding a third shift to handle the load. I wondered if that had anything to do with him calling me in for Monday. "Mr. Johnson? Smith here returning your call about Monday. I'm sorry but my wife reminded me I'll be in New Jersey on Monday, so I can't be there."

"Well Smith, that's going to be a problem. What would it take to get you back here on Monday?"

"Sir, I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm not sure thats possible at this point. I mean, we've already got our tickets for Thursday and the hotel booked and a car rental and everything."

"How about if I fly you back Sunday night, first class? Then fly you back Tuesday evening? Also first class? I'll even get you a hotel room out at the Marriott hotel for the night. Would that work?"

"Eh, sir, I, eh..." I stammered.

"Look, I won't take no for an answer. Now, I'll see you Monday at ten. This is really important and I need you here. See you then." Click.

I stood there in silence until I heard my wife on the computer laughing. "Your going to look so cute going into work on Monday morning in your petticoats."

"You know I can't do that. I'll lose my job!" I started shaking, unsure what to do.

"No you won't. They've already had one transsexual transition on the job. They also have an agreement with the Greater Gay and Lesbian Group of Chicago not to hold their sexuality against any employee."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they wont."

"Well, then, I guess that's a chance you're going to have to take. You've got five days to figure out what you plan on doing. However one thing is certain sweetie, you're not going in there as a man because you aren't one anymore. Now get used to it. Either you transition now and get terminated and we sew the pants off your boss, or you transition now and they learn to live with it. Either way, you are going there as your female self on Monday, whether you our you boss wants it or not."

"Even if that you say is true, I cannot go into work wearing petticoats and a square dance dress. I'd need business wear. Even business casual would be better than what I've got now."

"Fine, go to the store and get yourself a woman's suit. Just make sure it comes with a skirt. You are not allowed to wear pants for these two weeks. You got that? Now go do some shopping. You don't want to lose that job do you? It's either this or get fired."

"I could blow off my boss, and not show up," I said nervously.

"Yeah, that could work too, but I'd suspect he'd use it as a sexual harassment case." Shelly laughed at her own pun. "No, that's out of the question right now, but I might train you to suck a cock in the future. Does that sound like fun Samantha? Every woman needs to know how to satisfy her man."

"No it does not sound like fun. I am not gay and you know it too. Why would you even ask such a thing?" Now I was getting pissed.

"Oh don't be such a grouch. If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was that time of the month for you." When I didn't respond, she added, "Go to that store you like and see what they have for business casual and call me when you get home. Bye for now Samantha. Love you." She beamed at me.

"Love you too. Bye." As the computer connection ended, I could not help but wonder if I was really going to have to transition on the job or if that was just Shelly's way of teasing me.