I met Gabrielle at a music festival where I played with my band. After our gig, she complimented me on our show and we started to chat. She was over from the UK and was staying with friends in Amsterdam. I was impressed by this pretty redhead, dressed in a bit of a Lolita style with ultra black makeup, a cute red tartan skirt and huge boots over fishnet boots. We directly clicked and she started telling about her life in London. It appeared she was a professional corset maker. She showed me some pictures of her work on her IPhone.

“Wow, that’s really cool,” I said as I looked at some glamorous pictures of gorgeous girls, dressed in lingerie and Victorian corsets, “it must be amazing to wear one of those.” She showed some more pictures until there was a picture of a blonde girl in a purple latex dress. Hypnotized I murmured, “Mmmm, that feels so good.”

She looked me straight into my eyes. “How do you know?”

I blushed and stammered that maybe I had some experience in that field.

“Interesting, tell me more,” she teased.

For some reason I couldn’t stop myself and told Gabrielle all about my secret life as Irene, blushing all the time. I told her that my girlfriend didn’t know, that I dressed up quite often, taking pictures of me and posting them on Flickr.

She looked me up and down. With a bit of amused disbelieve she said, “I’d really like to see that.”

I shrugged and thought, ok, what the heck, and showed her my Flickr page on my phone.

Now it was her turn to be stunned. “Oh wow, is that really you? You are so cute! And do you do your makeup yourself? And those outfits, where do you get them?”

I nodded shyly. “Thank you, I learned doing makeup from YouTube. I have some stuff and wigs in a secret stash and I borrow most of the clothes and shoes from my girlfriend, we are about the same size.” I blurted out.

“And you say you’ve never been out as Irene! That is such a shame. You should go to parties all dolled up. It would be so much fun!”

I told her that I just didn’t dare to go outside because I was afraid that somebody would recognize me. I had dreamed of going to Tgirl parties and makeovers in other cities in Holland but the truth was that I just couldn’t find the courage to do so…

”Well, maybe Irene should come over to London and spend some days at my place. I’m sure she’ll love it,” Gabrielle said.

“You mean, stay at your place as a girl?” My knees suddenly became very wobbly.

“Yes sure, why not. It will be fun. I’ll dress you up and we’ll go out with my friends.”

My heart was racing, my mouth felt dry and I didn’t know what to say.

“Let’s set a date now otherwise you’ll chicken out. Shall we say Thursday the 25th of August? There’s nice Goth party that Saturday. I’ll take you to it.”

I nodded, still a bit stupefied. Her friends called that their taxi was leaving. Quickly she wrote her mail address on a flyer, kissed me on the lips and ran off. “See you in London, Irene!”

In a state of shock, I went to my band mates to bring our gear to the van.

The bass player said, “Are you ok? I saw you talking to that chick; did she make a move on you or something?” The drummer just chuckled.

“Sort of,” I said meekly, and I was very quiet on our way home.

A month later I sat in the Eurostar, on my way to London, with butterflies in my tummy. It had taken me some days and restless nights to work up the courage to mail Gabrielle. She replied sweetly that she had certainly not forgotten our meeting, that her flatmates also loved my photos on Flickr and that Irene was still welcome to come over to London. She would pick me up on Thursday the 25th, at St. Pancras station at 7pm, after work.

Flatmates? What the … ?

I travelled lightly as Gabrielle has written, “Don’t bring too many clothes, I’ll take care of everything.”

I arrived on schedule in London. Gabrielle was waiting on the platform, wearing a cute girly summer dress with biker boots, her red hair in a ponytail. She looked very pretty and bubbly and she was happy to see me. We kissed and she looked me in the eyes.

“Nervous?”

“No, not at all,” I bluffed with a coy smile which betrayed that this was actually the scariest adventure of my life.

“Don’t worry, Irene,” she said, “you’ll love being a girl.” She took me by the hand and we walked to the tube. In the tube we chatted about her work, music, movies and gradually I started to feel at ease.

After half an hour of travelling, we entered the place where she lived, an old house with two storeys which she shared with her two flatmates, Debbie and Becca. They would be home later that evening so Gabriella said that we would have plenty of time for Irene to appear. Immediately, I felt that sinking feeling in my stomach again.

We drank tea on the couch, although I felt I could use something stronger. Gabrielle had prepared a bath for me, and I relaxed in the warm, rose-scented water. I took my razor out of my backpack and shaved twice until my face was completely smooth. After half an hour Gabrielle came in with a tube of Veet.

“Ok, honey, now dry yourself and put this cream all over your body, except for your pubic hair.”

I rubbed the foul smelling stuff all over my body, careful not to miss a spot. After ten minutes I scraped my skin and all hair came off, leaving my skin all smooth and rosy. Suddenly, Gabrielle came in. I felt embarrassed but she didn’t seem to mind at all, seeing me as nude as I had ever been.

“Mmmm, smooth as a baby. Me likes,” she said, “ now, stand still for the final touch.”

She took a razor and started grooming my pubic hair, just leaving a cute heart shaped patch above my cock. I just stood there, waiting what would come next.

“Ok, Irene, time for your boobies,” she said and went out of the bathroom. She came back with a plastic bag and a spray can. She took out two fake breasts and sprayed them. She told me to stand still, cleaned my chest with a tissue and some alcohol and sprayed on some glue.

After a minute she took a breast form and pressed it against my chest. She admired the result and applied the second one.

“Wow, that’s a nice rack, Irene!” she said. “C Cup, I think. I guess the glue will hold for some days. And sorry about the nipples, but don’t worry, it will only give you more attention from the guys.” She laughed, but I wasn’t sure if I should laugh too.

I looked down and saw two completely natural boobies, firm and with enthusiastically erect nipples. Oh my god, what is happening to me….

Gabrielle handed me a dressing gown and said, “Ok, Irene, now go to your room on the first floor and put on what I’ve laid out ready for you on your bed.”

I went upstairs, feeling the cold air against my naked skin and with the strange sensation of the two boobs pulling on my skin and disturbing my balance.

In my room, there were some clothes lying on the bed. A set of matching bra and panties in black lace and some hold-up stockings. The lingerie had a cute butterfly pattern and the panties had a little bow on the back. I put on the bra and was amazed how it fitted with my new set of boobies. I couldn’t help touching myself and admiring the feel and the weight of it. The panties came next. With some force, I pushed my semi-erect cock between my legs and I pulled up the thong. The lace covered my pussy and the string went nicely between my ass cheeks.

The hold-up stockings came next. I rolled them up and put them on, slowly enjoying the magical feeling of nylon against my smooth skin. I pulled them up as far as I could, playfully letting the elastic snap against my thighs. Oh, my god, this feels so good, I thought.

I went downstairs again. Gabrielle heard me come down and admired me, “Wow, you’re looking hot, dear; now follow me to my room for your makeup.”

I followed her into a room which had the atmosphere of a boudoir and was pointed to a low chair in front of a vanity table with a mirror.

“Relax, Irene,” Gabrielle said, “I’ll give you the makeover of your dreams.” She put a large towel over the mirror.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

She went to work. After putting a nylon cap over my hair, carefully hiding every strand, she started plucking my eyebrows with tweezers in a thin, arched, feminine shape.

“Ouch, that hurts!” I yelled.

“Come on, Irene, don’t be a pussy,” she laughed, and, after she was satisfied, applied a foundation which felt cold against my shaven skin. After rubbing it in, she dusted my face with a powder puff.

“Every famous painting starts with a canvas,” she said and went to work on my eyes. Eyeliner came first, heavy and black, ending in a small wing next to my eyes. Kohl was applied on my eyelids, on the inside and on the outside. Then she chose a smokey eye shadow, working from light on the area near my nose to very dark on the outside. Long false eyelashes came next. She applied a bit of white glue to them and she positioned them carefully on my upper eyelids with the tweezers. Heavy mascara was applied on my lashes, boosting the volume until she was satisfied.

“Wow, you really have a feminine face Irene, it’s amazing.” She took a box with powder in different colors and a small brush and started contouring my face.

I felt amazing. This was what I had dreamed about and I couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me.

Gabrielle clearly enjoyed her work. Humming a tune, (did I recognize, 'You are beautiful?') she took a red pencil and started contouring my lips.

“You have nice soft lips, Irene; I’ll just make them a bit plumper to make them even more kissable.”

I smiled faintly and she took a red lipstick to fill in the contours. For the final touch, she added some lip gloss to my lower lip.

“Do you want your ears pierced?” she asked, teasingly.

“No, that would raise questions back home, I guess.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, they’ll never notice,” she laughed and took some large hooped earrings which she clipped on my earlobes. I shook my head and I liked the weight and the tingling sound.

“And now the moment of truth.” Gabrielle opened a box and took out a long blonde wig. She combed it, almost caressing it. She made me bow my head and put the wig on. She tucked, pulled and shifted a bit and stepped back to admire the result.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, with real amazement in her voice, “you’re not going to believe this!”

I felt butterflies in my tummy again. She adjusted some details and finally asked, “Are you ready, girl?”

My heart was trying to escape as she removed the towel from the mirror.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

From the mirror a pretty petite blonde stared back, her piercing blue eyes full of disbelief. Her red kissable lips formed a barely audible, “Wow….”

Her perky breasts looked sweet in a sexy lace bra and the strange thing was: they moved when I moved! Then I realized that this sexy blonde was actually me…..

“Oh wow, Gabriella, what have you done,” I exclaimed, standing up from the vanity table.

Her eyes were big with surprise. “I have to admit, I’m a bit stunned myself.”

I examined the cute girl in lingerie and almost automatically tried out the poses I normally do for my Flickr photo shoots. I turned around, looked over my shoulder and enjoyed the view of long flowing blond hair almost touching the round and firm derriere. When I moved the stockings followed the shapely legs and the little bow on my bum playfully danced with every move I made.

Oh, my god, the girl in the mirror was so hot! I felt an avalanche of emotions, soaking up the image of the girl in the mirror but suddenly I noticed that something was happening down there. I looked down and noticed a quite unfeminine asset trying to burst through the lace.

Gabrielle noticed it too.

“That’s not going to work, Irene.” she chuckled, “real girls don’t have bulges like that. Now let me help you take care of that.”

She dropped on her knees, gently took out my cock from the lace panties and put it in her moist mouth. She slowly pulled and sucked with her red lips, meanwhile caressing my bum.

Here I was, dressed up like a hot girl, in a strange house in London, with a pretty redhead sucking my cock. I felt drunk and ecstatic, my head spinning. I thought I would explode and suddenly I did, in her mouth. She sucked the last bit of manhood from me and stood up. She kissed me fully on my lips, her mouth full of my own cum. Her tongue probed mine and I was surprised about the salty taste, something between oysters and French cheese… We kissed and kissed and kissed, tongues wrestling and swapping my juices. After what felt like ages, she pulled back.

“Now, how was that sweetie? You’d better learn to enjoy that taste if you want to be a girl,’” she said with a huge smile.

I swallowed. “That was amazing,” I said softly, panting and my head a turmoil.

She looked me deeply in my eyes and put a little kiss on my nose.

“Now, let’s get you finished before the girls get home. I want to show you off!”

Suddenly businesslike she said, “What do you normally do to tuck in?”

“Tape,” I said, a bit embarrassed about spilling my trade secrets.

“That won’t be practical if you want to be a girl 24/7, so I borrowed something from a friend who is a professional dancer.”

She rummaged through the plastic bag and produced an odd garment.

“It’s called a gaff,” Gabrielle said and instructed me to take off my panties and let me don the gaff.

I put my now deflated manhood in a little pouch and pulled it between my legs. I admired my amazing smooth mons pubis, with only the small patch of pubic hair on display. I put on the panties again, enjoying the snug feel of lace between my ass cheeks.

“I just read on my Whatsapp that I have to work tomorrow,” Gabrielle said, “We’ll have to get up early so I can dress you up for the day and do your makeup, so I guess we better stay in for tonight. Anyway, the girls will be in any minute. Now let’s see, what would be comfortable for you to relax on the couch?”

She went to a chest and took out some black satin pyjamas. I put them on, feeling the soft smooth fabric against my skin and my stockinged legs. Gabrielle tossed me a pair of black pumps.

“Better get used to heels, honey,” she said with a grin.

I put them on and expertly paraded a few steps in front of her.

“Wow, you've practised, you naughty girl, you,” she laughed.

The front door banged and there was the sound of excited voices. Suddenly I felt nervous again.

Gabrielle saw it. “Don’t worry, they won’t bite, just nibble,” and we went over to the living room.

Debbie and Becca were coming in, stared at me and started to scream.

“Oh my god, you must be Irene! Cool to see you! Gab, what have you done with her, she’s so effing cute! And those blue eyes!”

I felt very shy but the girls quickly put me at ease. We sat on the couch chatting, with them making jokes about my alto voice and my Dutch accent. We drank some wine and I felt so good and so complete.

I drifted away a bit and absentminded enjoyed how Becca softly stroked my inner thigh.

Slowly her hand crept up but Debbie said, “No you don’t Becca, the poor lass has had quite a day! Patience, love, we’ll have plenty of fun this weekend.”

The girls laughed. I was drowsy from the emotions and the wine. Gabrielle said, “I’ll bring you to bed, sweetie.”

She brought me to my bed, took off my heels and tucked me in. From a shelf, she took an old teddy bear and put it in my arms. With a kiss on my lips, she said, “Nighty night, Irene, beautiful girl.”

“Kussen en knuffels,” I murmured, smiling happily and sailed off to dreamland, Debbie's words blissfully going through my mind.