Crossing Texas – Chapter Eighteen
And things did get better, to some extent. I awoke the next morning and realized I was, once again, a young woman. Not a baby or a young girl. After I showered I carefully selected a white, lacy underwire bra from my collection and skillfully put it on. I noticed my hands tremble slightly as I removed my silicone breast forms from their box and slipped them into the cups of my bra . I felt a rush of relief to have tits once again. My weekend ordeal past, I studied my reflection in the mirror, particularly my side profile, admiring the very breasts I had despised before the past weekend. I put my legs together and tucked my penis down and under, making it appear I had a real vagina. I truly reveled in my reflection. I was proud of my feminine appearance. Yes, I realized Amanda’s punishment had affected me deeply; now I was joyful at being allowed to wear women’s clothing.
I slipped back into my routine: being the motel’s only maid kept me busy all day, sometimes into the evening. Other tasks were gradually assigned to me, such as washing linen and cleaning the restaurant. Then one other task was added to my daily schedule: each day I was required to walk to Amanda’s house and clean it thoroughly, and also wash Amanda’s and Sara’s clothes. I was ordered to very gently hand wash their lingerie and pantyhose. It was degrading, to be sure, but I found myself oddly excited as I handled Sara’s underclothes.
I also noticed that the other workers tended to accept me now, no longer gawking at me or whispering amongst themselves as I passed. No, now they more or less treated me like, well., a maid. Occasionally I was even invited to join them at breaks, during which the discussion would generally focus on typical female concerns: guys, relationships, kids, and clothes. It was almost as if they were nearly oblivious to the fact that a penis lurked within my panties. And I became more comfortable with the lowly status of my new life, even as I became ever more enamored with beautiful Sara.
Each morning I was required to report to the office and take several pills, as the manager (usually Amanda) watched. I didn’t ask what they were. Amanda said they were vitamins, but I suspect they were female hormones. I didn’t really want to know, so I didn’t press the question. I was also required to take voice lessons twice each day, during which I studied and mimicked the way women talked. Since I only interacted with females now, I had many role models to mimic.
Several uneventful weeks passed. Then, one Friday afternoon at break, with the entire staff gathered, as was tradition, to receive their paychecks and to gossip, Amanda ordered me to join them. Maybe, I hoped, Amanda had a paycheck for me, too. Were I able to get some money saved up, it might be possible to change my situation.
The all female staff and I were enjoying coffee and cookies as we listened to Kimberly describe the cheerleading she would perform at tonight’s high school football game, when Amanda entered the restaurant with the paychecks and what appeared to be a photo album. Each worker received a paycheck, and then Amanda addressed me.
“Pamela, while I don’t have a paycheck for you, since you’re still paying off the money I spent on your pretty clothes, I do have something special, something you will cherish. C’mon girls, gather round! Pamela will surely like to show you her photos.”
“
“I don’t understand, mistress, what photos,” I asked.
“Your photos, Pamela, and may I say they are very lovely!” She set the album on the table in front of where I sat. The photo album had a cover title: “Patient file: Pamela Garcia”. All my coworkers watched as, instructed by Amanda, I opened to the first page.
I was horrified! My face turned beet red. There before me in plain view for all to see was a large, full-color, glossy photograph of me, standing with arms at my side, wearing nothing save for maroon high heels. It was a photo taken in the doctor’s office.
There was a long, awkward silence as I and the entire staff stared at the photo of a hairless male standing modestly, his penis and balls hanging, but looking oh so odd against the smooth body with painted nails. My makeup was clearly visible in the photo.
The next page had another glossy photo of me, this time in a Marilyn Monroe pose, with hands clasped behind my head and back arched, which made my flat chest and penis even more noticeable then in the previous photo.
“My, our little maid does look cute, doesn’t she,” Amanda said, “although unfortunately she’s a bit flat for a girl.”
“Too flat for a girl; too small for a man,” Emily added maliciously. The women laughed as Amanda turned the page.
There I was again. At least it looked like me. These were the same photos as were on the previous page, except that in these photos I had female breasts. Perky, young breasts fitting for a young lady. Also my hips were wider, fuller. Yet my revealed penis remained as before, visible, but now looking even more out of place.
“Cup Size B” was noted beneath the photos.
Wow, Pamela, you really look feminine now,” Ashley said with awe, “is it really you?”
“Let’s just say it’s Pamela as she desires to be,” Amanda said.
“Or maybe this is Pamela’s great desire,” she added as she turned the page again.
This photo was even more amazing. Again I stood naked, arms at my side, but now I possessed large breasts which hung heavily. These were not perky breasts at all; no, I had the breasts of a full-figured woman. My hips, too, were larger. I resembled those Aztec fertility figurines of ages past. These photos were noted “Cup Size D”.
“Wow, Pamela, you’re a real woman in these photos,” Sara exclaimed.
“Except for that tiny thing between your legs,” added Emily.
“If you choose those tits, Pamela, you’ll never be able to go bra-less,” Amanda said in a mocking voice.
And so it went. There must have been 40 photos in all. Some were side shots, titties and penis both showing clearly. One was a rear shot, showing me with an enlarged female ass but with my nuts and cock still visibly dangling. In some I posed demurely; in others I posed seductively. I was utterly humiliated as Amanda slowly turned the pages. After their initial shock the women started to add comments like “nice buns, girl” and “the guys will really like feeling those tits” and “what’s on the next page, a pregnant Pamela?”.
As the photos were shown and comments made, I sat silently, unable to proclaim my masculinity and far too ashamed to tout my obvious femininity.
“Pamela,” Amanda said after the final photo was shown, “I’m so happy to see that you are seriously considering enhancing your female attributes. Just think, one day you’ll be able to feel your breasts jiggle as you mince through the mall, searching for the perfect bra. But for now, let’s leave your photo album here in the restaurant so us girls can browse through it when we wish.
“Yes,” added Amy, “I’d like to show my boyfriend your photos.”
“Why,” Emily asked, “you think he would like to buy some titties, too?”
“Shut up, Emily! My boyfriend is a real man. He’s not a sissy. He’s not at all like Pamela.”
“Enough, girls, no fighting,” Amanda interrupted.
“Let’s all get back to work now.”
Everyone left the restaurant except for me. Alone, I opened the album and stared at a photograph. I couldn’t deny it., these photos were erotic. As a man, I would definitely be turned on by them. Yes, I realized with sadness, no more was I a sexually attractive male, but rather, at least in these photos, I had become sexually attractive to males. I slowly rose from my chair, straightened my skirt, and resumed my work as a female motel maid.
Later, as I was cleaning the restaurant, Sara informed me that Amanda had asked her to take me out tonight to have a little fun.
“But mistress,” I protested to her, “I can’t go out. Not dressed like this!”
“Silly,” Sara giggled, ” of course you can’t go out dressed like that.
You’ve got to get something pretty on. How about that short red dress we bought at Mervyns? Clean up, dress and meet me at the house at eight. Remember, Amanda has ordered it. Besides, Pamela, maybe you’ll enjoy it!”
The End of Crossing Texas – Chapter Eighteen.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index