arrived. Since they had given him the feminine

tag of 'Chrissy' he had been gradually pushed into the soft sleek fragrant world of femininity. Deep down he knew, when he saw that bra in the fitting room, that his friends were going to make him as female as they could, at least outwardly, and that there was very little, if anything he could or would do to stop them. He grimly recalled what he had thought so many days ago in the beauty parlor, that only a bra and dress were left to make his wardrobe completely female. Now, his willing, docile, submission to Caroline's 'guidance' made him realize just how successful they had been, and showed him also just how far he had gone into that world. Caroline's makeup case was just another inevitable step in that direction. So, like a lamb to the slaughter, with a self-amused grin that curled his lips at that thought, mistakenly interpreted by Caroline as a smile of anticipation, Chris sat and waited. He experienced a certain sorrow for the old male Chris, but consoled himself with the thought that, well, this girl stuff wasn't all that bad, and he now had great friends who were willing to do anything to help him. Somehow, that idea did not hit the mark perfectly, but it was close enough to calm his nerves and encourage him to take a wait-and-see attitude about this whole process. Soon, the person who arrived as Chris would be more appropriately called Chrissy than ever before, and he felt a twinge of nervous anticipation about how he would look as a result of this morning's activities. He even worried about the reactions of his friends, 'the group', as well as everyone else who knew him, to his radically new appearance. But soon he was absorbed in the details of this most mysterious and confusing of female activities, makeup.

Caroline placed a short cape around Chris's

neck and tied the string in front. "Did you know

I am the salon's cosmetologist?" she asked as she opened the case to reveal an astonishing collection of cosmetic paraphenalia.

"I'm going to do it all for you this first time," she said, "since we do want it to be perfect today, right? But you have to pay very close attention so that you can practice later." Chris nodded curtly.

She took a rose scented moisturizer from a large bottle and rubbed it thoroughly over his face, waited a minute or two, then wiped away the excess with tissues. In rapid succession, she applied lavender eye shadow, mascara and eye liner, penciled his brows after a bit of judicious and painful plucking, brushed his cheeks with rouge, and dusted it all with powder. Lastly, she lined his lips with a dark reddish pencil then applied a thick coat of dark crimson lipstick.

Stepping back, Caroline reviewed her work, and finally showing her approval with a satisfied smile. She removed the cape from Chris's shoulders.

"Now, the dress," she announced, indicating the tight knit uniform dress draped over a chair. "But..uh, you'll have to remove your slip and bra. You can wear them another time."

Reluctantly but, again, wordlessly, Chris stepped out of the slip, then turned away to remove the bra. Feeling very exposed, he quickly took up the garment, stepped into the skirt and pulled the material up over his hips. He stuck his arms through the sleeves and negotiated all those wrong-way buttons up the front. When he reached the last button, at the center-point. between his breasts, and was looking down, he was struck forcibly by the unmistakable size of those mounds. Even without the bra, his breasts were obviously larger than just a few days before when