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Cousin Amy 05
🕑 Added 2024-02-13 10:03:01 +0000 UTCChapter 05: Goldilocks and the Two Domes
Scott awoke feeling as though he hadn't slept at all, his mind having churned relentlessly throughout the night. When sleep had finally claimed him, it was more of a collapse from sheer mental exhaustion than any restful slumber. As Jessica gently shook him awake and placed a cup of coffee on the bedside table, his initial reaction was a groggy smile at the sight of her. However, the comfort of her presence quickly gave way to a stark reminder of his current reality when he noticed the pink covers of Amy's bed and the pink walls of her bedroom surrounding him.
"Drink your coffee," Jessica urged gently, planting a kiss on his cheek, her eyes soft with empathy for the tiredness etched deeply on his face. "We have time."
Scott nodded, feeling the weight of the day ahead pressing down on him as he took a deep breath, shifting under the covers. The sensation of a bra, tight around his chest, and panties wedged uncomfortably between his cheeks, made him flinch. The sensation of a silky nightdress draping over him, caressing his smooth, hairless skin, elicited a grunt. Looking at Jessica, he remained silent, recognizing the futility of words in altering what was required of him that day. Resignation mixed with a burgeoning resolve as he accepted that he needed to face what was coming, to "man up" and see it through.
After ten minutes of sipping his coffee and staring at the wall, almost in a state of shock from being surrounded by the overtly feminine room, Scott finally got up. The morning was filled with an unusual silence as Jessica led him to the bathroom, the significance of the day pressing down on them both.
Jessica seated Scott on the edge of the tub, her hand running up the side of his thigh, checking the smoothness of his skin. A satisfactory look crossed her face when she found his skin still hairless from the previous day's shave. But the relief of not having to shave his legs again was short-lived for Scott as Jessica retrieved from the cabinet the very pair of tweezers that had already altered his manly brows into something more cultivated. "Again?" Scott couldn’t hide his dismay, seeing the intent in Jessica's eyes.
"Today has to be perfect, baby," she declared, her voice a mix of determination and apology. "They’ll grow back. Trust me, it will make a big difference."
Resignation washed over Scott as he silently submitted to the inevitable. He lacked the energy to protest, knowing all too well that Jessica's vision for the day left little room for compromise.
What followed was fifteen minutes of meticulous work by Jessica. She alternated between each of Scott’s brows, carefully plucking away while he sat in nervous anticipation. Each small pinch signalled the loss of another part of his masculinity.
Finally, with a last snip from a pair of small scissors, Jessica ceased her attack, biting her lip as she looked down at Scott. His heart sank at her expression; he knew that look all too well. “You went too far, didn’t you?” he asked, his anxiety spiking.
"A little," she admitted, downplaying her actions. "I was trying to get them to match. But it’s not that bad. They’ll look perfect once we do your makeup."
Scott couldn’t hold back; he rushed to the mirror above the sink. The sight that greeted him - a pair of thin, feminine arches where his brows used to be - sent a shockwave of disbelief and irritation through him. “What the… Jess! You’ve made them look like proper girly. They look just like yours!”
"Similar, I guess," Jessica conceded, appearing behind him with a remorseful expression. "I can thicken them with a pencil later. But let's not dwell on that now. We have more important things to focus on – like becoming rich."
Scott felt an initial impulse to express his frustration, to argue about the unnecessary changes, yet he understood it would solve nothing. Anger wouldn’t bring back his brows or alter the fact that he would be stepping out in a skirt that day. It would only serve to create tension between him and Jessica on a day when he desperately needed her support.
“Take a shower while I get things ready,” Jessica suggested gently, steering him away from the mirror. She kissed him softly, her words a soothing balm. “I love you so much for doing this, baby. And don’t worry about silly things like hair. I still find you super sexy.”
Her smile and affirming words helped Scott find a semblance of calm, slightly soothing his frayed nerves. “Okay,” he agreed, taking a deep breath. “But you’re going to owe me big time after this.”
“Whatever you want, Babe,” Jessica responded, her wink playful and flirtatious. “Now, get that sexy backside of yours in the shower,” she teased, giving his pantied backside a playful smack.
Fifteen minutes later, Scott, clad in a white bathrobe and pink, fluffy slippers, re-entered the bedroom, feeling slightly more refreshed by the warm embrace of Amy's power shower. The stark contrast to the spluttering, temperamental shower in his own crummy apartment wasn't lost on him. With the mirror still fogged from the steam, he was spared the sight of his femininely sculpted eyebrows upon exiting the bathroom - a small mercy he was thankful for.
Jessica ushered him to sit in front of the makeup station, a routine Scott was becoming all too familiar with. Yet, today felt different. The usual playful banter that Jessica infused into their makeup sessions was absent, replaced by a silent, focused determination as she began to work on his face. Starting with foundation, she meticulously matched it to his skin tone, then spent what felt like an eternity contouring and shaping his face to a more feminine structure.
Then came the eye makeup, a part of the process Scott found particularly uncomfortable. Jessica applied a liquid base to his lids, followed by an array of neutral eyeshadows, blending them carefully. The precision with which she applied eyeliner, aiming for a thin, sharp line, made Scott tense. He managed to stay calm and still, even as the mascara wand came dangerously close to his eye.
Just when he thought the ordeal was nearing its end, Jessica reached for a set of false eyelashes. “I thought you said we were going for a casual daytime look?” Scott questioned, eyeing the faux lashes that Jessica herself was seldom seen without.
“We are,” she assured him, spreading a thin layer of glue along the lash strip and gently blowing on it. “But this is still an important meeting. You need to look like you made an effort.”
Scott remained silent, resigning himself to Jessica's expertise as she affixed the fluttering lashes. The sensation of the weighty, artificial lashes obstructing his vision was odd, to say the least.
It was then time for his lips. Jessica lined them with a darker pink pencil before picking up a tube of lighter lipstick. “Pucker up,” she instructed, demonstrating the pose. Scott mimicked her, a wave of nausea washing over him as the creamy, vivid pink solution glided over his lips. But despite the numerous unsettling feelings surrounding his feminized form, Scott stayed quiet, letting Jessica carefully apply the colour to his juicy-looking lips, ensuring a flawless finish.
(See image 09)
Jessica finished her boyfriend's makeup with a spritz of setting spray, sealing the elaborate work she had just completed. Scott, blinking heavily under the weight of the false lashes and the mist of the spray, slowly opened his eyes and asked, "Are you done?"
"Yes," Jessica confirmed, a smile in her voice. "Want to see?"
Hesitantly, Scott turned his head, bracing himself for the reflection that awaited him. The sight that met his gaze was jarring – his face, feminized and adorned with makeup, stared back at him. “Woah,” he uttered in a low, hollow voice, the impact of his altered appearance sinking in. Although he had grown somewhat accustomed to the sight of his face under layers of cosmetics over the past few days, the drastic thinning of his brows lent him an unsettlingly more feminine appearance than before.
"Pretty good, right?" Jessica beamed, clearly proud of her handiwork. "I should be a makeup artist."
“It’s something alright,” Scott replied, meeting her eyes in the mirror. A wave of doubt washing over him. “Jess. Is this really a good idea? What if we get caught?”
"We won’t get caught," Jessica shot back confidently. "You’re just getting cold feet. You look amazing. Act like I taught you, and no one will ever guess that you’re a man."
Scott bit his bottom lip, tasting the lipstick, his mind reeling from her words. The last thing he wanted was to be so convincingly feminine that no one would suspect his true gender.
"Come on," Jessica urged gently, reaching for his shaky hands to draw his attention away from the mirror. "Let’s get your nails on, then we’ll get you dressed."
Resigned, Scott allowed her to guide his hands to the countertop, laying them flat as Jessica opened a packet of the pink, stick-on nails. In that moment, as he observed her actions, a reflective thought crossed his mind. He pondered whether the unfolding scenario could have been different had he asserted himself more in their relationship, rather than always letting her get her own way.
The process of getting his nails done was quite surreal for Scott. Through the heavy fringe of his false lashes, he observed Jessica's hands move with precision and care. She worked on each nail with focused attention, buffing them, applying the pink plastic extensions, and then shaping each to perfection. This systematic process had a strangely hypnotic effect on Scott, leaving him in a daze by the time she finished. Experimentally flexing his fingers, now capped with glossy pink nails that extended just beyond his fingertips, he felt a wave of emotions too complex to untangle.
Under Jessica’s direction, Scott stood up, letting the robe slip from his body to pool at his feet. The vulnerability of standing naked in the centre of Amy's bedroom hit him hard. A quick, involuntary glance at his reflection in the mirror forced him to look away - the sight of his sissified head sitting atop a hairless male body was too jarring to confront.
Jessica, meanwhile, was setting out several packages on the bed. Scott's desire for distraction led him to inquire about them. Turning, Jessica's face lit up with a reassuring smile. “I ordered these online to help with your shape,” she said, holding up a box the size of a shoebox.
Approaching Scott, she opened the lid, revealing its contents and eliciting a startled reaction. “Boobs!” Scott exclaimed.
“Breast forms. They are going to bring the whole look together.” Jessica corrected gently, her smile unwavering. “Now, slip these on, then go lie on the bed,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for debate. Without protest, Scott accepted the tight pink and black underwear from her outstretched arm. Then, with a sense of resignation, he plodded over to the bed.
After uncomfortably tucking his equipment into the panties - just as he had been taught - he lay down, awaiting the next step.
As Jessica began attaching the breast forms, Scott felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. Her approach was meticulous, almost clinical, yet there was a tenderness in her touch that didn’t go unnoticed. She started by gently cleansing Scott’s chest, ensuring the skin was prepped for a secure adhesive bond. Scott watched, his heart rate picking up, the reality of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders.
Next, Jessica applied a special adhesive to the back of each silicone form. Her hands were steady, betraying no sign of hesitation, but Scott couldn’t help the flutter of discomfort that danced in his stomach. As she positioned each form on his chest and pressed down firmly, Scott felt a strange mix of vulnerability and surrealness envelop him. He held his breath, feeling the weight and coldness of the forms against his skin.
Jessica held each form in place for several moments, ensuring they adhered properly. Once she was satisfied, she used special makeup to blend the edges of the forms. The artistry with which she concealed any seams left Scott in silent awe, the line between his body and the silicone blurring before his eyes.
After securing a matching pink and black bra around Scott's new breasts, Jessica gently helped her boyfriend up while guiding his feet into the soft embrace of the fluffy slippers. The unfamiliar weight on his chest made itself known with a slight jiggle as he rose, eliciting an uneasy groan from his glossy pink lips. It was a strange and unsettling sensation. He felt utterly adrift, caught in the surrealness of his altered body proportions, his mind struggling to adapt to these new physical sensations. And just as he was trying to come to terms with them, Jessica produced another surprise from one of her packages - a long blonde wig.
"Really!" Scott exclaimed, his voice laced with dread. But Jessica was quick to soothe his fears. "Amy's a blonde, right? So, I thought it would be best for you to be too," she explained, her tone both encouraging and firm.
Jessica momentarily set the wig on the bed, capturing Scott's attention as he watched, frozen, his anxiety mounting. She then skilfully fitted a wig cap over his head before picking up the blonde wig again. With careful movements, she placed it atop Scott's head, meticulously adjusting the strands to frame his face perfectly.
"Try to relax, will you?" Jessica implored, her hands lightly squeezing his as she sought to steady his nerves. "Everything is going to be okay. It’s just like yesterday. Here, come and see."
Guiding him to the mirror, Scott was met with a reflection that left him reeling. The man he once knew had vanished, replaced by a feminine figure eerily reminiscent of a younger version of his cousin Amy. Horror etched his features as he absorbed his appearance: the carefully styled blonde hair, the meticulously applied makeup, and the new curvature of his chest staring back at him - all disturbingly feminine.
(See image 10)
Shaking, Scott could feel Jessica's eyes on him, his unease intensifying. He was at a loss for words, unsure how to react. The frightening realization that he could convincingly pass as a woman sent a wave of disbelief crashing over him. The tangible reality of their plan struck him with full force, and for the first time, it dawned on him that it might actually work.
Overwhelmed by fear, disbelief, and a profound sense of doubt, the feminized man stood immobilized. Jessica's reassuring presence beside him offered a semblance of comfort, a reminder of their united front in the face of this daunting challenge. Yet, despite her support, Scott couldn't escape the feeling that he had ventured far beyond the familiar, his very identity now hidden beneath an intricate disguise of silicone, makeup, and synthetic hair.
