Raifu Suitchi 12

Chapter 12: For a Good Cause

Allen's groan as his 6 a.m. alarm jarred him awake was all too familiar. Reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes, he let out a small yelp of pain, forgetting about the lengthy nails that now adorned his fingers. "Great," he muttered under his breath, a reminder that it was Monday and another week of living as a woman awaited him.

His morning routine, though exhausting, had become somewhat habitual. Dressing in the outfit Sofia had helped him pick out the night before during their video call, Allen found some comfort in their evening chats. Despite his general disinterest in makeup products and beauty blog topics, he was becoming increasingly well-versed in them, thanks to Sofia's daily updates - a necessity should anyone from the studio inquire.

Work was its usual blend of odd and ordinary, as much as it could be for a man in a skin-tight pleather skirt and towering, suede ankle boots, surrounded by women in a fashion magazine office. That morning's task involved scouring social media for local trends, an endeavour that ended up consuming most of his day.

Evelyn's mid-morning visit was the bright spot. She brought him a coffee, minus the sugar, mindful of his ongoing effort to drop to 125 pounds. Their flirtatious banter and talk of going out again left Allen pondering whether her interest lay with his current, feminized persona or if it would continue once he reverted to his male self.

Post-lunch, the day took an unforeseen turn. As Allen returned from the bathroom, he noticed Yamato with his camera, pointing it towards a scantily clad woman holding a microphone. The woman, a well-known presenter from the studio, was unfamiliar to Allen; had it not been for the camera, he might have walked right past her without a second glance. Without any formal introduction, she began questioning Allen about his day and his adjustment to the recent changes. Allen, somewhat taken aback, did his best to provide satisfactory answers. Suddenly, she blindsided him with the announcement of a Halloween calendar photo shoot scheduled for the following day, revealing that he was expected to model – a detail that particularly caught him off guard.

“We have a studio and a professional photographer lined up, and all proceeds will go to charity. Isn't that wonderful?” the presenter, clad in a sleek black dress and high heels, beamed at him.

Allen's response came automatically, a reflex born from confusion. "Yes, wonderful," he echoed, the words sounding strained as they passed his over-filled lips. His gaze fixed blankly on the camera lens, his mind already swirling with anxious thoughts about the potentially absurd costumes he'd be forced to model.

(See image 35)

"Don't worry about preparing anything; the studio will provide everything. We'll pick you up at 9 am," the slim woman informed him. After a brief pause where they exchanged looks, Allen finally broke an awkward silence. "Okay, thanks for the information. Is that it?"

"Of course, that's not it. You can't expect to take time off work without asking your boss, right?" the pretty presenter replied, her tone implying an obvious next step.

"Oh, yes, of course. I'll do that. Thanks," Allen said, eager to have the camera out of his meticulously made-up face. Another silence fell before the woman prodded him again, seemingly disappointed at his lack of reaction. "So, go on then," she urged.

"What now?" Allen asked, taken aback.

"Miss Hitori is waiting for you," the presenter informed Allen, who suspected a setup. With little choice but to comply, he sighed, turned, and sauntered towards Miss Hitori's office. Yamato, the cameraman, followed closely, eager to document the encounter while also enjoying the sight of Allen's pantyhosed legs as he tottered away. After knocking and being told to enter, Allen shuffled into Miss Hitori's office.

"Sofia, how lovely to see you," Miss Hitori greeted, looking up from her desk. "I love your hair today. It looks beautiful styled that way."

“Hello, Miss Hitori. Thank you, I just tied it up to keep it out of my face," Allen replied, touching his hair self-consciously.

“Well, it looks very pretty on you. And that skirt looks very stylish. You’re learning quickly," she praised.

Blushing, Allen thanked her before Miss Hitori inquired about the purpose of his visit, although she likely already knew.

"I need the day off tomorrow," he said, fiddling with his nails nervously.

"A day off on such short notice? Why do you need a day off?" Miss Hitori asked sternly.

"It's for the TV show. We're shooting a charity calendar," Allen explained, still nervous.

Miss Hitori's expression softened from stern to a smile. "Charity! Oh, you are such a sweet girl. Of course, you can have the day off. But keep in mind, you’ll need to work overtime for the rest of the week to make up for the lost hours."

Allen groaned inwardly, dreading the extra time he would now have to spend in the office. The thought of enduring more time perched atop towering heels made his legs quiver in anticipation. "Thank you, Miss Hitori, you are very kind," he managed to say, mustering a forced smile.

"You’re welcome, Sofia. Now, run along, I've got things to do. Oh, and do send me a copy of the calendar when you’re done, won't you? I'd like to support this charity too," Miss Hitori said, her smile warm as Allen turned to leave, his week having suddenly become more challenging.

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The following day, Allen was teetering in a Tokyo studio, bathed in painfully bright pink hues that assaulted his heavily made-up eyes. A stylish Japanese photographer snapped pictures, issuing brisk commands. Now sporting even longer, bright white, oval-shaped acrylic nails after an impromptu manicure, Allen craved nothing more than to vanish into thin air. He had endured many feminizing experiences over the past month, but this outfit eclipsed them all in sheer humiliation. He felt like a complete sissy, especially when glimpsing his reflection amidst the studio's numerous mirrors. It prompted him to question how his life had reached this bizarre juncture as he struck each exaggeratedly feminine pose he had spent the last hour learning.

"Smile for me, Sofia," the photographer called out. Allen forced a smile onto his plump lips, a stark contrast to his internal despair, particularly as he cringed, catching sight of himself in the mirror again. His costume, reminiscent of Harajuku's Lolita fashion, embodied every stereotypically girly element imaginable.

The outfit, surely the brainchild of a roomful of producers aiming for maximum embarrassment, was succeeding spectacularly. Allen couldn't imagine anything more effeminate. The soft white top adorned with flowers was low-cut, showcasing a modest cleavage created by a tight push-up bra, visible beneath a white furry shrug draped across his shoulders. His tights, decorated with white butterflies, added another layer of femininity he found unnerving. The mid-length skirt, although appearing light due to its flared style, was surprisingly heavy with its numerous petticoats. His feet, strapped into sky-high cream-coloured Mary Janes with prominent bows, struggled to balance perched atop the towering heels.

Every aspect of the outfit was alien and uncomfortable, particularly the platinum blonde wig. It weighed heavily on his neck, an almost unbearable burden considering how his long hair was tied up beneath. The thick studio makeup plastered on his face gave him an unnaturally doll-like appearance, enhancing the surreal nature of the situation. As the photographer snapped picture after picture, Allen maintained a forced smile, his attempt to mask the deep humiliation he felt within.

(See image 36)

The photoshoot dragged on for what felt like an eternity to Allen, as the photographer meticulously adjusted the lighting and props to capture the perfect shot. Once his session was over, Allen's ordeal was far from finished. He found himself still waiting around, uncomfortably clad in his excessively girly outfit, while the other contestants completed their sessions.

Surveying the room, Allen felt a pang of envy. It was clear to him that he had drawn the short straw in the costume department. The variety of costumes worn by the other contestants was striking, ranging from Halloween staples like witches and vampires to popular Japanese characters like Anpanman and Sailor Moon. Each one seemed more desirable than the frilly, flower-laden attire he was forced into.

Feeling humiliated and eager for the day to end, Allen secluded himself in a corner of the room. He daydreamed about the relief of kicking off his painful heels and stretching his cramped feet. Yet, bound by the situation, he remained seated, trying his best to avoid engaging in conversations. Even when Sofia, who was dressed as a pirate, attempted to strike up a chat, Allen mostly kept his head down, reluctant to draw more attention to his embarrassing costume.

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Allen's already exhausting week of overtime at the magazine office only intensified on Thursday. He was deeply engrossed in helping Namiko with research on a local jewellery company when Aiko unexpectedly approached his desk. The entire office seemed to pause, their attention turning to the interaction. "Good afternoon, Sofia. How are you today?" Aiko inquired with a tone of feigned interest.

Expecting some nasty surprise, Allen replied cautiously, "Err... I’m fine, thanks, Aiko." He eyed the brown paper bag in her hands with suspicion.

"What’s this?" Allen asked as Aiko extended the bag towards him.

"Open it and see," Aiko encouraged, barely containing her excitement.

Using one of his overly long acrylic nails, Allen carefully opened the bag and slid out a glossy object. His expression shifted from curiosity to shock as he gazed at the calendar's cover featuring himself in a girly Lolita outfit. He let out a sound that was half groan, half shudder at the sight of his feminized self, striking a playful, flirtatious pose.

Aiko gleefully exclaimed, "Isn’t it great? Your picture was their favourite, so you're the cover girl!"

Allen's internal reaction was far from 'great' as he flipped through the calendar. The pages revealed his fellow contestants in various outlandish costumes. When he stumbled upon another photo of himself in the September section, his cheeks flushed with discomfort. By this time, other colleagues had gathered around, curious to see the commotion. Reluctantly, Allen handed over the calendar, and a group of office girls congregated around it, their giggles filling the air, much to Allen's chagrin.

Hearing the murmurs of "so sweet" and "kawaii" around him, Allen braced himself as Aiko prepared to deliver more news. “Okay, let's get down to business,” she announced. Allen, already overwhelmed, felt a wave of anxiety at the prospect of what she might say next. “You’re probably thinking this week’s challenge is about who took the cutest picture, right? But no,” Aiko clarified, as Allen realized he hadn’t considered that possibility until now.

“Well, this week’s challenge is actually a sales challenge. Tomorrow, all contestants will be out on the streets of Tokyo trying to sell as many calendars as possible. Remember, the proceeds go to charity, so do your best. But more crucially, the couple that sells the fewest copies will be eliminated. Any questions?” Aiko explained.

Allen looked at her, his face a mixture of Botox and shock, absorbing the news. “Tomorrow?” he echoed back.

“Yes, tomorrow. You'll have another day off work, so be sure to inform your boss. And it’s an early start; we need time to make you look pretty and fit you into your costume,” Aiko continued. The mention of a costume made Allen's heart race. “What costume?” he inquired apprehensively.

“Oh, right! You know, when you joined the show, we asked about the last Halloween costume you wore. So, for tomorrow, you'll experience your partner's last Halloween outfit. It’s a costume SU-IT-CHI,” Aiko said loudly, startling some of the nearby office ladies.

As soon as Aiko left, Allen quickly texted Sofia, inquiring about her last Halloween costume. He anxiously awaited her reply, his mind swirling with thoughts of potentially embarrassing outfits. After enduring the frilly Lolita costume for the photoshoot, he dreaded what might be in store for him next. Images of himself dressed as a fairy or Catwoman striding through the streets of Tokyo horrified his mind.

Ten agonizing minutes later, his phone vibrated with a response. Struggling to unlock it with his impractical long nails, he finally saw Sofia's message: “Schoolgirl. Sorry.” Allen sighed deeply. It was shaping up to be yet another long and humiliating day.

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Early the next morning, Allen stepped onto the scales after his shower. He had diligently stuck to his diet over the past week, and although he had been monitoring the numbers, he was still taken aback by his new weight of 123 pounds. He hated seeing his body look so skinny, but there was also a sense of relief. Having reached his goal, he could finally start eating proper food again, albeit with portion control and calorie counting.

Dressing casually, with large sunglasses to cover his tired eyes, Allen got ready quickly, knowing there would be a full makeover upon his arrival at the studio. The drive there felt endless as he gazed out at the tired-looking commuters heading to their mundane office jobs. For the first time, Allen found himself envying them, wishing for their normalcy.

Upon arrival, Allen tried his best to zone out during the transformation process. When the team of makeup artists finally finished, he was left somewhat bemused as he faced his reflection. It was clear to him that the show had taken considerable liberties with his outfit, particularly evident in the six-inch platform pumps, a style he had never seen on a Japanese schoolgirl.

The rest of the outfit included a bright white blouse, adorned with a string bow at the collar, and a red checked pleated mini skirt that revealed most of his legs encased in black tights. Completing the ensemble was a little red blazer that refused to fully close over his chest. The stylists had spent a considerable amount of time backcombing and curling his hair into voluminous twin pigtails that cascaded over his shoulders in an explosion of hair. The makeup applied was bold and atypical for a schoolgirl; his thick eyelashes, heavily blushed cheeks, and glossy red lips gave him a rather tarty appearance.

When they finally deemed him ready, he was led to meet Sofia. Her reaction was a mix of astonishment and amusement.

“Oh, please! Don’t laugh,” Allen pleaded, embarrassed as he cringed from his elevated position atop his tall platform pumps. “This is supposed to be your costume, remember?”

“Okay, sorry,” Sofia apologized, a hint of amusement in her tone. “But about the costume... Yes and no.”

“What do you mean by 'yes and no'?” Allen asked, visibly confused.

“Well, I was a schoolgirl last Halloween, but it was a scarier version, more like a zombie schoolgirl with lots of fake blood. Your costume, however, seems more like a fantasy schoolgirl,” explained Sofia, barely containing her snicker.

“Great,” Allen replied, his voice laced with sarcasm, aware that the studio had set him up yet again. Wanting to shift the conversation, he inquired about Sofia's outfit. “Why are you in a school uniform? I’ve never worn anything like that.”

“They told me you’d never worn a costume before. That’s a bit sad if you ask me. So they chose something to match your outfit,” Sofia explained, dressed convincingly as a schoolboy.

“Well, dressing up never really appealed to me, and after these last few weeks, I definitely haven’t changed my mind,” Allen commented. Just then, Aiko and Haruto entered, signalling it was time to leave. Sofia exited the studio with confidence, while Allen lagged behind, awkwardly adjusting to his latest pair of killer heels. They stepped outside into the November sunshine, bright but accompanied by a brisk wind. Allen immediately felt a chill on his barely covered legs. A sudden gust of wind made him hastily grab the hem of his skirt to prevent it from flying up and exposing his black panties beneath.

Unlike usual, no car awaited them outside. Instead, they were informed they would have to walk to their destination, which compounded Allen's discomfort. Sofia, in her role as the man, was handed a heavy cardboard box full of calendars to carry. Despite her initial complaints, she managed, albeit with a look of annoyance.

Their fifteen-minute walk through Tokyo, marked by chilly air and curious glances, was anything but ordinary. Two adults dressed in school uniforms and followed by a camera crew made quite the spectacle. But upon reaching Harajuku, bustling with locals and tourists alike, they found themselves in an environment known for its eclectic fashion sense. Here, amidst a plethora of unique styles, Allen and Sofia, despite their discomfort, blended in more seamlessly than expected. In Harajuku, their costumes seemed almost commonplace.

Finding a busy spot on the street to maximize passing trade, Sofia set down a box of calendars. The pair then began to enthusiastically call out to passersby, hoping to secure sales. Allen felt particularly self-conscious, battling both the wind that threatened to lift his short skirt and the cobbled streets that challenged his balance in heels far from suitable for such terrain.

(See image 37)

One downside to blending in at Harajuku was their struggle to sell more than a handful of calendars in the first few hours. People simply passed by, uninterested in stopping. Concerned about losing their spot in the competition, Sofia suggested a new strategy that Allen initially hesitated to embrace, but reluctantly agreed to try. They picked up their box of calendars and moved toward Shinjuku, finding a spot just outside the bustling train station.

In contrast to Harajuku, they stood out starkly in Shinjuku, especially with the rush hour imminent. Here, outside Japan's busiest station, their fortunes changed. As the crowd flowed from Shinjuku Station, sales surged. Allen, in his eye-catching outfit, drew a lot of attention, particularly from the evening commuters, many of whom were older businessmen on their way home.

Their first box of calendars sold out in under five minutes, and a crew member quickly supplied them with another. Over the next thirty minutes, they sold through three more boxes before the crowd began to thin. Around this time, Aiko arrived to inform them they had only thirty minutes left to sell for the day.

Sofia, eyeing up Allen in a way that made him feel uncomfortable, started shouting, “Free hugs with every calendar sale.” Allen was stunned, but before he could protest, an eager, overweight businessman approached, asking if buying ten calendars entitled him to a kiss on the cheek. Sofia instantly agreed and accepted his money.

Overwhelmed with horror, Allen found himself tightly embraced by the enthusiastic businessman. As the man eagerly took out his phone for a selfie, he awaited Allen's reluctant kiss. Complying, Allen pressed his lips against the chubby man's cheek, leaving behind a vivid red mark from his lipstick. The man departed with a beaming smile, thanking Allen profusely. Meanwhile, Allen, still disgruntled with the predicament Sofia had put him in, noticed another man paying Sofia and casting a lustful glance in his direction.

As the final moments ticked away, Allen and Sofia managed to sell two further boxes of calendars. Throughout the process, Allen endured a relentless stream of hugs, squeezes, and the occasional pinch to his bottom from various men. By the end, he was both infuriated and exhausted, refusing to engage in conversation with Sofia as he tottered back to the studio with his head hung low. His mood was probably not helped by the unbearable ache in his feet and ankles after a day spent wobbling around Tokyo in his punishing heels.

By Saturday night, dressed to impress on stage, Allen had come to forgive Sofia. He understood that she was simply trying to win, admitting to himself that, had their roles been reversed, he might not have seen anything wrong with her giving out a bit of affection for charity – and for the competition. Watching their weekly highlight reel, he couldn't help but be astonished at the drastic transformations they had both undergone in such a short time.

Their victory came as a delightful surprise. However, their elation quickly turned to disbelief when they were briefed on next week's challenge. "Well done to our five remaining contestants. You've all survived another week," Enzo announced, his smile beaming into the camera. "Now, as we're down to half the contestants, confidence may be growing. Maybe some are even dreaming of victory. But this week will truly test your commitment – to the cause and to each other!" The audience murmured in anticipation before Enzo dropped the bombshell: "This week's challenge is marriage!" The audience gasped, then erupted in applause, but Enzo wasn't finished. "However, our contestants won't be getting married as themselves. Before they become husband and wife, they'll be visiting the courthouse for a name SU-IT-CHI!"

The room erupted into cheers once more. Allen, feeling lightheaded, struggled to grasp the reality of what he had just heard. As the crowd applauded, his practised smile faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. Could he really commit to such an extreme challenge? The thought was almost too much to bear.