Thirty Days to Jenny Ch. 2
Keywords: Thirty, Days, to, 2, Jenny, Ch.,
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*day eleven*
Well, Alison, thought, Jeff had been listening to the 30 Days to Jenny tape for ten days already and the changes in his character were dramatic. He was sweeter, more helpful around the apartment, and even more satisfying in bed. He'd started a diet, been exercising, and had taken a renewed interest in his appearance. If the changes stopped there, Alison would have to consider her money well-spent. But she found that the more her boyfriend changed, the more she wanted him to change further. She hadn't even considered it as a possibility, but Alison truly found herself enjoying what was happening to Jeff. Maybe, she thought, it was the frustrated mothering instinct inside her. Whatever it was, Alison took a real pleasure--even pride--in being a part of her boyfriend's transformation into Jenny.
She watched from the kitchen as Jeff vacuumed the living room, his smooth legs and pert butt looking adorable in a pair of her red silk running shorts. The little kerchief he'd tied around his short spiky hair was totally unnecessary, but totally cute.
Alison had pushed things a little too far the day before, bringing up that bit about Rafe, asking Jeff if he didn't think his hunky friend from the video store was cute. For a while, Alison thought she'd blown the whole thing when she saw how upset Jeff had gotten. So she'd backed off today and decided to just see what developed.
She considered it a good sign that Jeff hadn't removed the purple-glitter polish she put on his toes while he slept. In fact, he had slipped on her pair of lavender platform flip-flops as if he were almost showing off his pretty toes. And that t-shirt, he was wearing….oh, it was still his alright, but it was one of those that had faded and shrunk in the wash. Alison was going to have Jeff use it as a rag to polish the furniture, but seeing it on him, she changed her mind. Had he chosen it on purpose? Was he even aware how when he moved it showed a glimpse of his belly-button?
He had the earphones on, the walkman clipped to his waistband, and he was listening to the tape. Supposedly, he was listening to drown out the drone of the vacuum. Alison wondered just what scrumptious new thoughts were being programmed into her boyfriend's rapidly sissfying brain.
Alison knew well enough not to ask. Not today anyway. Later, when Rafe called from the videostore to set up another running date for the next morning, (was it only Alison's imagination, or was Rafe calling a lot lately?), she made a big show of leaving the room to give Jeff his privacy. She listened from the next room, of course, and how cute her little sissy sounded, all flighty and giggly, like a schoolgirl, as he talked to his boyfriend.
Not long, Alison thought, just a little wistfully, perhaps. Not long before that happens, too.
*day twelve*
"What's in all the boxes anyway?" Jeff asked. He was following Alison down the stairs to the storage room, carrying a box of his flannel shirts.
"Just some winter stuff," Alison said. "I figured we'd make some room in the closets for new clothes."
Jeff made an innocent joke about Alison's ever-expanding wardrobe. Alison smiled wryly. What she didn't tell him was that all of the boxes were filled with his clothes and the only wardrobe that was going to be expanded was his.
"Watch your step in those shoes," she called back over her shoulder.
Alison's boyfriend seemed to have appropriated her lavender platform flip-flops. Ever since she had painted his toenails, Jeff seemed to love going barefoot. He claimed that his own shoes were just too uncomfortable and his sweatsocks too hot. But Allison concluded that he just liked showing off his pretty toes.
He was wearing another pair of Alison's shorts, this time not merely running shorts, but genuine girl shorts. They were culottes, almost, and what was perhaps even more obvious, they were an unmistakable femme shade of pastel pink. The shirt he wore once again showed off his belly, only this time it showed off more, because it wasn't merely a shirt that had shrunken, but one that Jeff had cut off himself.
If he was at all concerned about being spotted in the hall outfitted like this, he didn't show it. And, in fact, they did run across someone: the old lady who lived in the apartment upstairs. She took one look at Jeff and looked over at Alison. For a moment, Alison thought the old lady was going to say something that would spoil everything. But she just nodded at Jeff, wished him a good morning, and turned to Alison again with a wise, pleased smile as if to say she understood everything.
When they had carried all of the boxes down to storage, Alison asked Jeff if he would carry his weight set down as well.
"I'm constantly tripping over it," she said. "Besides, you haven't lifted those things in months."
"Don't I know it," Jeff rolled his eyes. "All they do is get in the way when I vacuum."
He walked over to the barbell and sort of casually tried to lift it from the floor. To his surprise, the barbell didn't budge.
"Whoa. I guess I put on more weight than I thought."
Alison watched fascinated as Jeff readjusted his grip and stance and tried to lift the barbell again, but with no more success than before.
"Hmm," he said, standing upright, a fingertip in his mouth. "Who was lifting these things anyway? Arnold Schwartzenegger?"
"You used to honey," Alison couldn't resist saying.
"Moi?" Jeff laughed, remembering the one word of French that Alison had him memorize, "Don't be silly!"
"Too bad Rafe isn't here," Alison ventured. "I bet he could lift it up easily. He looks pretty well-built."
She held her breath waiting for Jeff's response. But her boyfriend seemed to accept the comment at face-value.
"Yes. He's really strong. I get him to lift heavy boxes for me at work all the time. Uhh, where's a man when you need one?"
Jeff laughed, and Alison tried to pretend she didn't feel like fainting. Her boyfriend was continuing to remove weight plates from the barbell. Alison knew that Jeff hadn't really grown that much weaker; at least, he hadn't physically lost strength. But the tape had prepared him mentally for the time when his pretty feminized body would hardly be capable of lifting anything much heavier than cloth-covered lavender handweights. His femmy toes were scrunched inside the platform flip-flops as he strained to lift the barbell, barely getting it up to his thighs. Alison managed to collect herself enough to ask, "How much weight is on there now, honey?"
"Oh…" Jeff looked from side to side, furrowing his brow to make the mental calculation. "It looks like almost thirty pounds!"
Alison got up from the couch where she'd been watching this amazing episode in the ongoing process of her boyfriend's total emasculation. "Oh that's much to heavy," she said, easily taking up most of the weight herself. "Let me help you sweetie."
Jeff gave her a grateful look. "Unnnhhh…thanks!…its sooo heavy!"
And so it was that, with Jeff taking short, little stumbling steps behind her in his platform sandals, they carried the weight set down along with his other male stuff, never to be seen again.
*day thirteen*
Getting Jeff to the salon did not turn out to be nearly as difficult as Alison would have thought. She simply told him that it was right next to the bank where she had to go anyway and since she knew the owner it was the only place she could get an appointment. Besides, she argued, he couldn't very well get his arms and eyebrows waxed at the corner barber could he?
"But isn't that place just for girls?" Jeff asked.
"No, honey. It's not just a woman's salon." That wasn't strictly true, Alison thought, but soon it would be irrelevant in Jeff's case. "Men go there, too."
Her boyfriend was sitting in the chair now, wearing a pair of her purple sweatpants and a salon cape, little strips of foil in his hair. Janine, the manicurist, had finished working on his cuticles and was now applying clear polish to his nails. They had decided not to bleach his hair, but to give him frosted highlights instead. His toes, which Janine had already freshly polished in electric pink, were drying , separated by little rubber toe separaters. To Alison's surprise, Jeff hadn't balked at all about taking off his sneakers and showing his already feminized feet. The little cutie really did seem quite proud of his painted toes and enjoyed all the compliments he got from the girls in the salon, who seemed to get a great kick out of Alison's sissy-in-the-making.
Jeff yelped in surprise when the first of the wax was yanked from his arm and his eyes moistened. "That hurt," he said, with a tricked, disappointed-looking pout.
"I want you to get used to it," Allison explained. "From now on this is the way you're going to keep yourself smooth. It's much more efficient than shaving…and lasts far longer, too."
"Ow!"
"Maybe, eventually, it will be unnecessary when we start giving you…"
"Giving me, what…" Jeff started hopefully, and then "Ow!"
"Never mind," Alison said quickly. "Put your headphones on sweetie. Concentrate on the music." She paused, enjoying the wickedly delicious irony. "It's like self-hypnosis."
Jeff eagerly slipped the headphones on with the help of another one of the girls, careful not to disturb his hair. He still flinched a bit when Sandy pulled the strips off, but, all in all, he seemed to tolerate the waxing pretty well. Alison noted how thin and girlish Jeff's arms looked once they'd been completely depilated and how soft and open his face looked once his eyebrows were waxed and shaped.
"Can he hear us?" Julia, the salon owner asked, turning to Alison. "I can't tell."
"No," Alison said, smiling down at Jeff, who smiled up at her, somewhat absently. "He's pretty much in a world of his own when he listens to the tape."
"Amazing," Julia said, "simply amazing. I'd love to make him up. Give him the works. With some eyeliner those eyes would be breathtaking. He has nice lips, too." She touched his face.
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Keywords: Thirty, Days, to, 2, Jenny, Ch.,