Working for a Boutique - Part 9

Forward by Julia. Here is another part of Urban’s original story. I just edited a few things and added a few, so it will fit within the present story.

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Halloween fell on the weekend that year, a Saturday, to be exact.  On Saturday, a week before Halloween, there was a note on my time card to contact Lisa Newman. I looked at the name and numbers and thought they sounded familiar. I finished work and drove home, trying to remember how I knew that name.

I returned home, dressed in my maid’s uniform, and completed my daily tasks. I changed and went upstairs to make dinner for Ms. LaRue and me.  Ms. LaRue came home, and I gave her a glass of wine, and we had dinner together.

When I finished cleaning the kitchen, I watched the late news and took a shower. A shipment of stock had come in; I would be very busy tomorrow. Just before getting into bed, I remembered the note. I opened my wallet and took it out.

When I removed it, a white business card fell to the floor. I picked it up and saw that it was the photographer’s card I had been given a month earlier. I compared the card to the note and found the name and phone numbers were the same. “Lisa Newman: Professional Photographer. Custom shoots for any occasion. Fashion is my specialty.” It was late, and I was in no mood to give her a call at this late hour.

By noon Sunday, I had separated the shipment into their various departments. After lunch, I would begin opening the boxes, taking out the stock, and applying the security and price tags. I just sat down in the lunchroom when I was paged to the phone. I took a sip of my diet soda and walked to the stockroom phone. I picked up the phone and pushed the button for the line that was blinking.

“Danielle,” I said.

“Hi Danielle, this is Lisa Newman. Did you get my message?”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been really busy and haven’t had time to get back to you,” I replied.

“I understand. I have a specialty fashion shoot coming up for a specialty costume company. These photos of their costumes are for print ads. If they like my work, I may get hired to do regular shoots for the company’s catalog. It would mean a great deal to me if you could come to my studio this Saturday and work for me.

“I spoke with Ms. LaRue, and she said you will have most of your work done by then, and she won’t need you. I will pay you to triple your eight dollars an hour for your modeling time. In addition, there is a Halloween party here afterward, but I need you to help serve my friends; you wouldn’t be there as a guest. Will you do it?”

I thought about how much I loved being made up and all girly, wearing fancy dresses and costumes now that I was becoming a woman.

“Sure, I would love to.”

“Oh, thank you so much! Be at my studio at 8am sharp this Saturday. My assistant Ms. Perez will help you get ready. See you then.”

The week went by quickly; I hadn’t thought much about the job that was ahead of me. Saturday morning, I got up early and took the usual hot soaking bath, and shaved again. I arrived at the address on the card about fifteen minutes early.

The studio was located in a two-story office building on a side street not far from the downtown area. I parked my car and walked into the building. I checked the directory and found her studio was in the basement. I walked down the stairs and found the correct suite number. No one was at the front desk, but I could hear someone in the back moving things around.

“Hello, anybody here?” I said in a loud voice.

A few moments later, a short Hispanic woman with ugly black glasses and an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips walked up to me.

“You must be Danielle?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Lisa isn’t here yet. She comes in later. C’mon into the back.”

I followed her in the back room, where things had been set up. She directed me to an area that had been sectioned off with six-foot panels in a “V” shape. Behind the “V” was a folding chair in front of a lighted vanity. There was an ample supply of makeup and false fingernails.  As well as several wigs on their foam heads.

“Strip, put on the stuff in the box and hang your dress on the rack, fix your face and wear the blonde wig first.” She turned and went back to her work.

I opened the box and removed a white bra, breast forms, a short panty girdle, and a pair of pantyhose. I undressed, put the items on, and hung my dress on a rack. Sitting at the vanity, I applied a red blusher and lipstick. I didn’t need the false nails; I just removed my nail polish and changed it to the color provided. I pinned my hair back, put on the wig cap, and was adjusting the wig when Ms. Perez came to check on me.

“You done?” she smiled. “Yes, I am. What’s next?”

“Lisa will be here any minute. I will help you get dressed. Step out here.”

I followed her out to the area where we would be shooting the pictures. The camera, lights, and stage had been set up, and Ms. Perez was looking over two racks of dresses next to the wall. She removed the petticoats and handed them to me.

“Put these on, then your heels,” she instructed.

I took the petticoats from her, slipped one inside the other, then stepped in and pulled them up to my waist. I put on a pair of four-inch black patent leather pumps as Lisa walked in. Ms. Perez handed me a black satin puff sleeve maid’s dress. It was similar to the ones I wear when I am working as a maid for Ms. LaRue.

“Good morning, Danielle; you look as lovely as I thought you would,” she said with a big smile on her face.

“Thanks, I’m just glad to get the work.”

I put my arms thru the sleeves of the dress and adjusted it around the petticoats as Ms. Perez zipped me up. Next, she pinned the maid’s cap in place, and I put on the white apron, and she tied it in the back. Lisa got behind the camera as I stepped on the stage and went through several poses before she began taking pictures. This dress also came in blue and pink, so I did two more quick changes with matching shoes.

“OK, next style.”

I changed into shorter petticoats and put on a French Maid’s minidress. This style also came in blue and pink, so I did two more costume changes. The third style was a satin sheath dress in the same three colors.

“That’s it for the maid costumes. Take a break for a few minutes, freshen your makeup and come back here.”

Ms. Perez removed the cap, apron and unzipped me. I took off the dress and walked back to my little alcove, and sat down. I checked myself in the mirror. Everything looked OK, so I spent the time paging through a fashion magazine in the drawer.

Ms. Perez came back, and when I stood up, she scrutinized my face. She glared at me. “Didn’t she tell you to fix your face?”

“I didn’t think it needed it. I thought I looked OK,” I said defensively. “THINK? Look girly, do you know what a mannequin is?”

“Yes,” I replied. “A mannequin is a plastic dummy used to display things in stores.” “Right! That’s what you do, dummy! You display the goods. Now keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told. Freshen your makeup and get back out there, pronto!”

I turned and sat down at the vanity and applied some additional blusher and lipstick. Listening to Ms. Perez barking orders like a boot camp drill instructor with that staccato manner of hers was like standing in front of a Mexican machine gun. I walked out to where she was standing and presented myself.

“That’s much better.”

The next series of dresses were long-sleeved shirtdresses in several colors with a very unique feature. At the top where the zipper closed the dress, a small padlock could be attached. This kept the wearer in the dress until somebody unlocked the padlock and unzipped the dress. In addition, the patent leather five-inch heels that went with the dress had an ankle strap with a similar closure for a padlock. I couldn’t imagine why any woman would want such a thing, but both Ms. Perez and Lisa found the style quite amusing as the pictures were taken.

The next style was called “sissy dresses.” They were a combination of frills, bows, and ruffles. I modeled them in eight different colors with matching four-inch heel shoes and pinned a large satin color-coordinated sissy bow at the top of my wig.

When the last dress was back on the hangar, we stopped for lunch. I slipped on a pink bathrobe, and we had sandwiches and diet soft drinks.

After lunch, I touched up my makeup and slipped off the robe.  “Take off what you’re wearing and put these on,” ordered Ms. Perez.

I removed my lingerie and stepped into a pair of pink brief-style nylon tricot panties with four rows of ruffles in the front and back. I placed the breast forms in the pink bra and put it on, and then a garter belt and a pair of light pink hose. I stepped in a pair of four-inch heel fuzzy slippers and walked back to the stage.

Both women were all smiles as I posed in the very feminine outfit. When the last shot was taken, Ms. Perez handed me a pink corset.

“Take the bra off and put this on.”

After I had done so, she began lacing up the back.

“Exhale, blow all the air out of your lungs.”

I did so, and she pulled the lacing so tight I could hardly take a breath. When Lisa had her pictures, I repeated the procedure seven more times for each color the lingerie set came in.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Lisa as she took the last picture.

“Danielle, you have done just a super job! “We’re all done now, so go back and change into that pink sissy dress and heels, but use pink blusher and lipstick this time and exchange your red nail color for pink and we’ll go to the party next door!”

When I had changed into the sissy costume, I walked out to the office to find Ms. Perez dressed as a matador and Lisa in a Spanish dancer costume.

“The party is in an unoccupied suite next door. It’s an after-work party for some of my clients. I need you to be the punch girl, so come with me. It’s three-thirty, and they won’t be coming until four. It’ll be over by eight, so you can come back here and change. I’ll pay you, and you’ll be done for the day.”

Lisa locked the door to her suite, and we walked down the hall and entered the party suite. Tables and chairs had been set up. There were four place settings with the names of the guest at each of the four tables. Two tables had been set up end to end. The smaller table had plates, silverware, and napkins. The larger table had platters of small sandwiches, chips, and cake for dessert. I would stand at the very end of the table and offer people a choice between two types of fruit punch, then ladle their choice into a cup and hand it to them.

Lisa walked around checking everything and came over to me. She placed a rectangular nametag on the left shoulder of my dress and said, “Sit down, Danielle, put this on, and relax for a few minutes.”

She handed me a pink eye mask. I stretched out the elastic band over my wig and set the mask over my eyes. I sat down on the folding chair, remembering to brush my hand behind me to smooth out my dress, then crossed my legs in my best girlish fashion.

Just before 4 PM, the guests began to arrive. I stood up and prepared to serve her guests as Lisa greeted them at the door. After filling their plates, I filled a cup with a spoon from their beverage bowl of choice and handed it to them with a smile. When all the guests had arrived and were finally seated, I got a plate myself and then filled a cup with the pink lemonade.

The conversation was low-key as Lisa made the rounds of all the tables and chatted briefly with each guest. She sat down next to me and winked.

“The guests are all asking about you, Danielle, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.  I won’t tell them you are not yet a woman.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

I remembered to hold the punch cup daintily with my pinkie extended as I sipped small amounts from the cup. After finishing, I ate with small bites and set the plate down, and patted my mouth with a napkin. I thought some of her guests were watching me more closely than they should, or was it my imagination? Several guests got in line for seconds, and I stood up to refill their cups. After I sat back down, I kept my hands folded primly in my lap and awaited the next guest.

Lisa was all smiles. “You are doing just famously. I am certainly glad that I hired you! Ms. LaRue was right. You’re not only a perfect mannequin, maid, and hostess, but you’re a great-looking sissy too!”

I took a sip of lemonade to keep from saying what I wanted to and just nodded appreciatively. The guests began leaving about 7:30, and Lisa and I bade them a good evening.

“Leave the mess for the cleanup crew tomorrow,” said Lisa as we walked back to her suite.

She unlocked the door, and I went into the back room and removed my costume, wig, and makeup, and dressed back in my own clothes. I stopped at the front desk, where Lisa had me sign a release for the shoot and then handed me my check.

“Thanks, Danielle; maybe we can do this again.” “We’ll see,” I replied as I walked out the door.

I drove back to Ms. LaRue’s, and after showering, I checked myself in the mirror just to be safe. This was getting to be a real drag, pun intended.  Even though the clothes were fun to wear, the fact that now I needed the money didn’t help matters any.  The sissy costumes were really over the top, though. I really didn’t understand why anyone would want to wear one outside of a Halloween party.  I thought about my “Vast Conspiracy” theory which wasn’t so funny anymore since not only did a lot more people suddenly know who I, Danielle, was, they also knew my lingerie, dress, wig, and shoe size.  Wherever I worked, everything I put on was exactly the right size.  It wasn’t a coincidence, that was for sure.  I watched some TV, then went to bed. I was hoping my secret would stay safe and I wasn’t outed as a boy in a dress.

Sunday and Monday, I was busy putting stock out. I had put the weekend out of my mind. I was busy in the evenings as well with schoolwork. November was a better month than the previous two months, and, not surprisingly, the fall line of clothing was all but sold out.

I put up our holiday decorations and set up a table between the cashier’s counter and the front door where a gift-wrapping service would be offered. Things were looking very festive as we turned into December, and we became really busy. I hadn’t given my modeling job, if you could call it that, a second thought.

The school was out about a week before Christmas and would not be open again until a week after New Year’s Day. I checked with Ms. LaRue, but no extra hours were available. I wasn’t hurting for money just yet, but I could always use some extra cash.

The store gave out Christmas bonus checks. I was surprised to get one since I was part-time, but Ms. LaRue said I had earned it, but I shouldn’t say anything to the other employees. Each employee received a gift certificate at the Christmas party to a local supermarket to be applied to a ham or turkey of their choice. In addition, Ms. Verdot had sent a small package to me, addressed to “Danielle” in care of Madge, our beauty shop manager.

Inside the box was a pair of earrings.  Madge was nearby, and I showed her Ms. Verdot’s gift.

“When Ms. Verdot comes here and needs your help, it would be nice to show your appreciation by wearing them.  It’s a good thing we already pierced your ears, or I would be dragging you into the salon and be doing it now,” she said with a grin.

Christmas day came around, and I spent the day with Ms. LaRue.  We exchanged gifts in the morning.  I gave her a nice wallet, and of course, she went overboard and gave me all kinds of new winter clothes and accessories, as well as a new pair of winter boots  and a warm winter jacket for me.  I thanked her for her generosity profusely, and she smiled at me.

I made up a wonderful Christmas feast for us, with a roast turkey and the works. I think we will have leftovers for a month.

There was a rush of returns after Christmas, and I got an extra day to pack them up and ship them to the central warehouse in California.

We stayed at home during New Year’s Eve, and we toasted the new year with some champagne.

After New Year’s Day, things began to slow down. Despite significant discounts, overall sales were not up to the company’s expectations, though our store did very well. High school would start again soon, and the workdays would not be quite so long.

Once school was back in session, I became busier; I was back in school again, and everything was going along great in my life. I was making more friends than ever at school.  I was talking to the coaches and asked if I could join the women’s swim team, as I heard they had an opening on the team. I picked up a beautiful blue one-piece swimsuit with a matching swim cap and went for a tryout at the school’s pool.  They were impressed with my times and my form and put me on the swim team.

I forgot to mention that our football team didn’t make the finals this year. After a great start, we had a few injuries, and it kept us out of the playoffs.  I saw every game as a Cheerleader and thoroughly enjoyed myself since the crowd was coming to see us perform, right?

I went on a few dates with Shawn, and we were having a great time with each other. He was always the perfect gentleman to me and never once imposed himself on me.   We were always kissing each other when he dropped me off at Ms. LaRue’s

Several weeks later, I saw Ms. LaRue walking towards me in the store one day after I punched in at six.

“Danielle, there’s going to be a managers meeting here Sunday night after closing. I’ll need your help, of course. You will have this Sunday off, but be at the beauty shop at four in order to be ready when the managers start arriving about four-thirty. Madge will not be here, but Jean has agreed to help you again.”

“Ok, I’ll be there,” I replied.

“Good. Please set up the tables and chairs in the loading area on Saturday afternoon, once all the deliveries are completed, according to this diagram. The meeting will last about two hours. Afterward, clean things up a little. On Monday night, when you come in, fold up the tables and chairs and put them back in storage.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied as she turned and walked out.

Saturday, I came in and worked my shift.  After the store closed, I set the tables and chairs up and drove home. We had no deliveries on Sunday, so everything was fine in the loading area.

I reported to Jean on Sunday afternoon. She helped me put on my white foundation garments and hose. She had a pair of four-inch heel brown leather pumps. She fastened the last three bra hooks and helped me adjust the straps so the breast forms in the cups looked all right. A lacy camisole and half-slip came next. She helped me make up my face, and I put on the pink nail polish and then a wig cap and wig.

“You look great, Danielle,” said Jean as she handed me an orange sleeveless satin blouse.

She quickly fastened the buttons in the back, and I stepped into the brown skirt and tucked the blouse inside. I slipped the jacket on and stepped into my pumps. Jean gave me the once-over. I looked like a proper businesswoman.

“I see you remembered to wear the earrings that Ms. Verdot gave you.”

I smiled and once again blushed. Why do I keep blushing?

“I’ll be here doing inventory. When you are through, come back, and I’ll help you again.”

As I walked from the beauty shop to the back room, several girls smiled at me as I walked by. One even winked and held up ten fingers. Living as a girl full-time was really helping.  I had learned to modify my walk; by now, I was confident in my overall appearance and my ability to walk in heels, no matter their height.

Once in the backroom, I set out notepads and pens at each place on the table, as well as pitchers of water and glasses. The managers began arriving, and I introduced myself to them and showed them where they were to be seated. I pushed the podium on wheels to the front as Ms. Verdot approached.

“I see you like those earrings,” she said as she smiled at me. “Yes, I do. Thank you again.”

She stood behind the podium, and I walked to the back and sat down. Without being conscious of it, I had walked and talked in my girly voice, smoothed my skirt when I sat down, and, of course, crossed my legs in a ladylike fashion as now these were my natural mannerisms as I had become Danielle. I was no longer the boy Danny masquerading in a dress.

Once the meeting started, I kept my attention on Ms. Verdot and what she had to say. I glanced at the managers once in a while to catch their reaction to some of the things being discussed, but for the most part, I watched the proceedings, sitting quietly with my hands folded in my lap. Twice I was called to come up front with folders that Ms. Verdot needed to verify some information. Other than that, I had no part in the proceedings. The meeting broke up around 6:45, and everyone left.

I got two trays from the lunchroom. After dumping the water out of the glasses, I put them on the trays, took them back to the lunchroom, and set them on the sink. I carried the pitchers in and dumped the remaining water in the sink. I put the pads and pens back in the box and took them to the front office doorway.

The staff had left at five-thirty, and the store was deserted. The only noise was the sound of my high heels clicking on the hard floor as I walked back to the beauty shop. Jean was reading a magazine as I walked in.

“Is everything ok?” she grinned. “Yes, the meeting was a success.”

I sat down and removed my wig and wig cap.  I also removed the business attire and changed it back into my own dress.  I told Jean that I think if there is a next time with Ms. Verdot, my hair should be long enough that I won’t need to wear the wig anymore.  Jean agreed with me and told me my hair is really getting lovely now.

Jean handed me a white envelope. “Another nice tip, I hope!” she grinned.

“Yes, me too,” I said.

When I got home, I opened the envelope to find a dozen crisp ten-dollar bills. At least the ladies were grateful for my efforts.

The next night after school, I folded up the tables and chairs and put them in storage. I did some stock work, then I cleaned up the store and restrooms after we closed.

As I was leaving, the two sales girls from the formal wear department waved at me and then pointed at the rear balcony as they left. I looked up to see a sign over the balcony reading “Formal Apparel Show-Convention Center Mar. 20-21.”

I gave the girls a thumbs up. I knew Ms. LaRue would ask me to model fashions again, even though there were other prettier girls that could do it. I sort of had mixed emotions about this, but I felt I would be able to pull it off again.  After all, I am a girl full-time at school, and no one there has ever suspected a thing.