KK's Quickies: Pesky Peeping Tom to Dolled-Up Date (2/3)

“Oh my God, we hardly even needed that waxing kit,” Trish crowed. “And look how tiny his waist

is! I told you this could work.”

“Maybe,” Sally said, still frowning. “I mean, it’ll be hard to tell until we see the final result.”

Dennis was far too distracted to wonder what they were talking about. He was down to his

tighty-whities in front of his biggest crush, and was trying desperately to not get turned on. The

painful experience of leg waxing had helped in that regard, as did the vicious eyebrow plucking

that followed. They told him to be a man and suck it up, but it was hard to feel like much of a

man when they next ordered him into a pair of panties and a matching bra!

The slippery nylon felt utterly bizarre against his waxed-smooth legs as he pulled the panties

into place, blushing furiously. As if that wasn’t bad enough, both girls insisted he “tuck,” and use

a roll of adhesive tape to keep his willy crammed up between his butt-cheeks, rendering it totally

invisible. Sally then helped him do up the strapless bra, which managed to both feel

uncomfortably tight and strangely baggy, thanks to the empty cups.

“Come on, isn’t this enough?” Dennis asked weakly. “Just take your photos, post them all over

the school, and ruin my life already. You don’t have to waste your whole afternoon, right?”

“Oh, this is time well-spent, you little perv,” Trish said meanly. “Nails next!”

Each girl took a hand each, applying long, bright pink gel nails to his fingers. Dennis could only

stare glumly down at his transformed hands, perturbed by how instantly feminine they

appeared. But he didn’t have long to contemplate his fate: Sally had settled on an outfit, a

sea-green skirt with matching shoes and top, and it was time for him to finally get dressed!

.....................

“Come on, I can barely walk in these things!” Dennis wailed, teetering precariously on the

stilt-like six-inch heels the girls had forced onto his feet.

“Good thing you won’t be walking anywhere, then,” Sally said primly. “Now hold still and let me

stuff your bra…”

Flushing beet red, Dennis did as instructed, staring embarrassedly at the floor while she filled

out his empty bra cups with balled-up pantyhose. She helped him into his top next, and he was

dejected to discover it was much skimpier than he’d realized, clinging tightly to his faux-boobs

and leaving his midriff totally exposed. The short skirt certainly didn’t help matters, swirling

playfully around his waxed-smooth thighs with every motion.

He was sure he looked utterly ridiculous, but the girls weren’t laughing or snapping photos to

share with the school. On the contrary, they seemed dead serious, and very focused, as they

ushered him over to the vanity where Trish had laid out his makeup.

“He has a great complexion, and honestly, great bone structure, so we don’t need much

concealer or contouring,” she announced, speaking to Sally over his head. “But we want him to

look as sexy as possible, so we’ll go really dramatic with the eyes, and really poppy for the lips.”

“I’m going to look like a freaking clown,” Dennis muttered, and Sally frowned.

“You need to talk higher,” she said. “Use your head, not your chest, and try to raise your pitch.”

Dennis blanched. “Why?” he demanded. “Are you going to be recording me, too?”

“Not if you do what we say,” Sally said sternly. “Repeat after me: Hi, I’m Jennifer! What movie

are we seeing?”

Dennis was utterly perplexed, but he did as instructed. “Hi, I’m Jennifer,” he squeaked, doing his

best to raise his already unimpressive pitch to an even more girlish register. “What movie are we

seeing?”

“Oh my God, that’s perfect,” Trish said smugly. “Now sit down, Jennifer. It’s time to get you all

prettied up…”