WunderGirl -6- by Shauna Rousseau (Patreon)

~ Day 18 ~

*****

Sam

*****

I climb into the car with Mom. It’s her lunch hour and she’s picking me up early from the lumberyard and taking me back to work with her.

This whole week has been horrific!

When I went into work at the lumberyard on Tuesday—after my week two check-in debacle—I was of course the target of complete ridicule by the guys. That was bad enough, but the homophobic section was downright nasty.

I was in fear for my life all week!

Well maybe it wasn’t quite that bad, but I was certainly afraid of some “accident” happening while out in the yard or mill.

“It’s just too bad that the freak broke its neck while accidentally falling off that pile of logs….” I can just hear what they would be saying while they look down on my bloodied body.

Old man Rollings was at a loss as to what to do with me, all week. Or, for that matter, how to really protect me from the verbal or potential physical abuse, so he kept me mostly inside and out of sight. I basically just made coffee all week and did some sweeping inside the store.

I haven’t even worried about putting on “work” clothes the last couple of days, since I haven’t been getting dirty, at all. That’s been a two-edged sword, because Mom has been making me dress “nicely,” instead. That has put me squarely in the “girly” column, which has not helped my case, in the least.

I wonder, though, if she’s been doing that on purpose.

If that was her strategy, it worked perfectly. As embarrassing as it’s been, Mr. Rollings finally called Dad today. After three full days of torture, and the beginnings of another, he let him know that this just wouldn’t work.

Period.

So, this morning was my last day at the lumberyard—which is just fine by me!

Of course, Dad has been pissed with my new “look” ever since the check-in. Again, I didn’t ask for any of this—I’m not any happier than he is on that front.

I thought I was just testing some body wash! I never really intended to sign on to any of this girly stuff!

I mean, I know I sort of agreed to it—but I didn’t really know that’s what I was doing! Isn’t why they won’t let minors sign contracts, in the first place? The parents are supposed to know better—and look out for them?

I didn’t overhear any of the conversation between Mr. Rollings and Dad, but I do know it will be another unpleasant evening at home. And I’m not looking forward to the upcoming family meeting that’s sure to come when we get there.

I look at Mom and lament, “I don’t get it, Mom. Everyone’s mad at me! I didn’t sign up for any of this! I just thought it was using some body wash, and shampoo and stuff!”

She looks back over at me and sighs.

“Well, you did sign up for it, Hon. It’s all in your contract. Yes, some of it’s my fault since I pushed you into the reserve modeling for my benefit, but you can’t abstain from any fault. You wanted to enter the trial and even went off on your own to do it! We were trying to treat you like an adult and trusted this is what you want. And the modeling part sweetened the pot as much for you, as it did for me.”

I groan. “But it was only supposed to be testing somebody wash! Now, look at me! I’m dressed in girls’ pants and a…a…a blouse—and I have to carry a purse because there aren’t any real pockets for my wallet! Worse, I have a closet full of skirts and dresses!”

I fight tears as I continue to moan. “I have make-up on that won’t come off and red hair. My eyes are turning green, and my finger and toenails are growing red! My ears are pierced, and I have to practice walking in heels!”

I throw my hands in the air. “How is that anything that I would have signed up for? I’m not a girl, Mom!”

She shakes her head and sighs. “I know you’re not a girl, Hon. Unfortunately, WG contracts were designed for women, though. I didn’t really think that through when I agreed to that modification of your contract. To be honest, I didn’t think it would ever even apply to you! Who in their right mind would have ever thought that they would actually hold you to it?”

She pauses, then lamely adds, “Think of it this way, though. At least you got out of working at the lumberyard. If you hadn’t been dressed that way, you would still be there.”

I gurgle. I mean, yes—but at what cost? If this keeps on, I’ll have to go back to school this way!

That can’t happen!

She puts another nail in my coffin as she pulls into the WG employee parking lot and adds, “Oh, your heels are in the back seat, Hon—put them on. At least you have semi-nice clothes on, and you didn’t get dirty this morning! We will have to work with what we have.”

I sigh and reach into the back to get the three-inch stilettos, then slip off the ballet flats I have on. The “flats” aren’t my favorites either, but they’re still better than the heels!

I barely notice the lilac scent of my deodorant waft out from my underarms as I raise my arms anymore—but the extended tingling of the product is certainly worth putting up with the floral scent when I am reminded of it.

I shake my head and reach into my purse….

I sigh. That’s something else I’m still getting used to, but begrudgingly have to admit that it is sort of practical—as long as you don’t forget it somewhere like I’ve done.

I find my lip gloss and take it out to refresh the coating on my lips.

I feel the warm tingling spread through my lips and onto my face, which causes me to smile—it’s just so refreshing! Like with the deodorant, the price of my swollen lips—something that scared me to death the first time I saw it—is worth the exhilarating feeling.

I don’t like the cosmetics, and I don’t like the clothing that I have to wear—it is…embarrassing to have to wear either. But I do like the feelings that come from the body care products and the feeling of being “alive” that they give me.

Even though the original products barely make me tingle anymore—the deodorant and gloss really work. If the price of getting those is being embarrassed, I guess I will have to live with it—for now.

I would really hate to lose the benefits!

*****

Melissa

*****

I look at the message that just came in from Greta concerning Sam Brinkley and smile. It seems that Julia just brought him in for the afternoon. His demeaning torture at the sawmill is over.

It’s about time! Not that I care that they tortured him.

He’s stupid for even working there in the first place. The first thing he needs to learn as a WunderGirl is how to pitch a hissy fit!

His father is an idiot, and Sam will have to learn. I think there may also be hope for Julia—with a little molding.

No matter, we’ll get Sam whipped into shape! I will make sure that he gets it—the success of this part of the trial depends on it. I won’t let him mess that up!

I smile. Things have just fallen into place on this—and now I think it’s time to go to the next level.

He’s clearly fully sensitized—and he would have started noticing the fading effects of the Phase 1 products soon enough. If he hasn’t already….

Ginny going out on her own, and giving him the deodorant and plumper should be pissing me off—she broke protocol. Normally, we would wait until the start of desensitization has been confirmed before beginning any kind of Phase 2 product.

But in this case, it genuinely will work out in my favor. And we already have all of the Phase 1 data we really need, at this point, anyway.

So, I’ll be magnanimous and give her a pass—this time.

Getting Sam to use cosmetics full-time even goes a step further to prove my theory than my original plan—especially with that potential issue with the psych exam. So, I can afford to be generous. Even though that certainly goes against my nature.

I shrug off this cloak of…decency…and check back through all of his records. I need to send an update to my board contact, anyway. They will then update the powers-that-be at the Firm.

I pull out the picture portfolio from his file. I haven’t followed up on Sam this week and the pictures from the beginning of this week are amazing. I would never have guessed that this much progress could be made with a boy.

I hadn’t honestly considered a full public feminization of him—not in the beginning. Of course, I would have ultimately done some provocative testing with cosmetics. There has always been the need to see if he would even bite at the mere consideration of them.

That, however, would not have been until after using targeted test body care products to set the Phase 2 addiction. Adding a few targeted cosmetics, at that point, simply to test the waters and see if he would bite on contemplating using them to feed the low-level addiction would have provided some interesting data points.

This is where the brilliance of adding the “reserve modeling” clause came in—again something that just fell into my lap. But it was my genius that jumped on it and made the potential turn into reality. The fact that our modeling contracts are outdated and written for “old-fashioned” women, isn’t something I was initially adequately considering as to what it would mean for a boy.

When Ginny jumped the gun on, I was afraid it would bring the whole idea crashing down. Normally, I would have her head for it! The fact that Joyce went off and required full implementation of the contract—something I’m still not clear on why she did--it all worked out. Ginny’s ad-libbing just played into the whole thing.

Julia has no idea what avalanche she started with her desire to be a model—I will just talk it up to fate!

Sure, what Ginny just did what I likely would have ultimately done, anyway. She just should have checked with me first.

We will talk…later.

I will still have to deal with the unintended negative consequences of this whole fortuitous event, though. Using the contract to push Sam into full-time cosmetic use puts a bias on the whole question of whether a boy would simply submit to using them—without any other pressures.

We will have to do another trial on that, now—and I have just the idea.

So, all will be well, in the long run.

I turn my attention back to the file. I encrypt everything and send the update to my contact, then prepare a message to send back to Greta.

“Hi Greta, thanks for the update. This is timely! I have some second phase products for Sam Brinkley to start on—and that can be today. I’ll have Ginny bag them up for him. But he won’t be able to use the extended wear cosmetics, anymore. He’ll have to use special ‘normal’ cosmetics for this phase.”

“Can Brea give him lessons? I would prefer it be the whole package, at this point, though—so I can assess any issues with the entire pallet.

“Maybe it’s time to think about fully activating him? Do you have any work he could do?”

I reread it and send it off with a mischievous smile. Then I send a message to Ginny to take the products over to M&M.

It’s time to see if the Phase 2 addiction will initiate, as designed, using the additional products—and how he will ultimately react to the effects.

*****

Greta

*****

I’m surprised to see Julia bring Sam in after lunch.

Of course, I have to find out why and can’t say that I’m surprised that he didn’t make it at the lumberyard, when I do. The thing is, even if he didn’t look totally like a girl right now—he just doesn’t have the stature for working there.

That’s just no place for a sweet boy like him! And I’m sure his more feminine presence caused quite a stir with some of the ogres over there!

I just don’t get Gary’s thinking in making him go. I know Julia was against it, and I’m pretty sure she intentionally encouraged and amped up his girlyness when he was going to the lumberyard—just to get him out of it.

Thankfully, the ogres over there didn’t hurt him—and he didn’t hurt himself! I’m not sure Julia really thought that one through…. But then, we all know she can be impulsive in her decisions.

I shake my head and send a message to Lissa, so she can update his file—technically, he works for her. At least for now.

That could easily change. If and when we invoke his modeling clause, he will then also work for M&M. Then we will share his time—other than that, not much will change. She will still have ultimate control over what products he uses—but we will maintain control over his look.

I’m sorely tempted to activate him. He has potential according to Becky—she says he’s easy to work with. And the pictures of him in full makeup are so cute! He could be a real asset.

I’m just not sure how the others will react to that thought.

As I’m thinking about how to convince the others to go along with my idea, I get a message back from Lissa. I help but smile, as I nod to myself. It seems that she and I are completely on the same page in terms of getting our money’s worth from Sam!

I think about that and decide that I need to talk to Julia about him wearing more of the wardrobe that we donated to him. Those dresses are so lovely—and quite expensive. There is simply no sense in him just leaving them hanging unused in the closet.

He looks OK in the slacks and blouse he’s wearing right now, but it’s not up to the level of a true WunderGirl. And with him now being fully activated he will certainly need to step it up!

So, now I just have to inform him of his revised status. It should be interesting to see how he reacts to the news. Somehow, I’m not sure he will take it as an “upgrade.”

I’m still not sure how Lissa got him—well Gary—to sign the contract with that modification. I know why Julia did. To be honest, I would never have thought of it if Lissa hadn’t brought it up….

It will be interesting to see how he does. I can only hope he takes it seriously—breaching the terms of our contract is never a good option. The penalties are very severe.

I think through what has to be immediately be done.

He won’t be presenting as a boy for a while after this—and we’ll have to ramp up his feminine persona. Especially since he doesn’t even have one.

Dresses are to be his norm, moving forward. While not a specific contractual requirement, I can require it. It will help him get him in the proper mindset of a WunderGirl!

Yes, this should be interesting, indeed. It’s not that I’m for feminizing the boy, but I have no need for a boy wearing makeup.

At least not at the moment. Any option like that will come much too late for Sam—if we ever even do go down that road. I know Lissa has been thinking about it, and has been working on the board to approve another trial. So we could have a potential new line for boys, so that need may come later.

I shake my head, and put that out of my mind, while I finish up some other urgent business.

I am quickly brought back to all things “Sam,” though, about ten minutes later, when Ginny drops off his new products.

I quickly thank her and take them with me to go to talk to Brea.

There’s a lot to get moving on. We have to get Sam ready to fully represent WunderGirl as a full-fledged model. He has a lot to learn in a short amount of time. All of our new WunderGirls go through intensive and extensive training, but we typically don’t have to focus on the “Girl” part of “WunderGirl.” Our initiates are usually well-steeped in that part.

Sam is going to have to learn all of that—starting with makeup. We are a cosmetics company first and foremost, after all!

But he’s basically going to have to learn to present as a girl from the ground up. I’m sure Dharma and Joyce will be more than happy to work with him on that, given their past involvement with him. And Becky can amp up his modeling lessons.

Brea may resist a little, but I know that she will ultimately do what is expected of her.

That leaves Sam. He probably won’t like any of it.

Not that it matters—a contract is a contract!

*****

Brea

*****

I shake my head as Greta tells me the news about Sam.

I was just talking to him and Julia a few minutes ago. While he seems to be elated about being out from under the lumberyard job, he’s certainly conflicted about the reasons for that happening.

And I’m about to make that worse. Much, much worse!

I knew that Joyce and Dharma were pushing the envelope—for whatever reason. But now Lissa and Greta are involved—and that means I have no choice but to go all-out from here on out.

I sigh and look through the cosmetics that Ginny dropped off. For all intents and purposes, there doesn’t seem to be any difference from normal WG products. But I’m sure there’s something different about them.

At least they got the color pallet right—he won’t look like a clown.

It’s maybe a little sophisticated for a normal fifteen-year-old—girl, that is. But it’s completely in line with what a full WunderGirl is expected to wear.

A timid knocking on the door alerts me to Sam coming back to my little corner of the world.

He says, “Excuse me, Brea. Greta said to come see you?”

I sigh and say, “Come on in, Hon. I have some good news—and some that you may find…less good.”

He gets a look on his face that is a strange combination of hope, confusion, and concern.

I plow ahead with a deep sigh. I guess Greta is putting it on me to give him the “news.”

“The good news is that I’m going to remove the semi-permanent makeup. You won’t be wearing it anymore. The flip side of that is—it’s a bear to get off.”

I pause and just throw it out. “And…I have to teach you to do your own daily makeup—the whole package. Like I did for your first session with me.”

His face falls as he collapses into the chair at the vanity.

It’s like he’s lost all hope.

I give him a hug and say, “I’m sorry, Hon. It seems you’ve entered the next phase of your trial, which is a good thing! But that means that you’re moving to next-level products—and the extended wear ones I was using on you are incompatible with the trial. Lissa wants you to use the full spectrum since you’re going to be using daily wear now anyway.”

He blows out his air and says, “I know it’s not your fault, Brea. This is just so overwhelming! So, you’re telling me I have to wear full makeup, now—like Mom?”

I nod and shrug. “Yes—just adjusted for your look. We’ll finish tweaking that as I teach you how to apply it and create that final look. I don’t suppose you have any wishes—besides not wearing it or a completely natural look? Neither of those are an option—WunderGirls are supposed to show off the product.”

He gives me a look and retorts, “But I’m not a girl, so how can I be a WunderGirl?”

I shake my head and purse my lips. I have to stay strong.

“But you—well your parents for you…. But you wanted it…. Anyway, you signed a WunderGirl contract. Like it or not, from a contractual standpoint, you are a WunderGirl—just a reserve one.”

I don’t mention that they are preparing to activate him, based on what Greta just told me. That will set a whole new plethora of things into motion.

I blow out my air and continue, “In any case, there’s no sense belaboring the point. I’m going to start removing the extended wear makeup. This will sting a bit, and I’m afraid I’ll have to scrub pretty hard.”

Ten minutes of scrubbing with a special harsh cleanser later, I’m putting on a special moisturizer to replenish the oils that I just completely stripped out of his skin.

I take another look at his freshly cleaned and shining face and notice that his eyes are now completely a very beautiful shade of emerald green. There are no more flecks—they have all melded together, and his old brown color is now fully consumed by the new green.

I take a deep breath and start explaining the proper use of makeup.

“OK, this is foundation. You will use this after you put on your day cream in the mornings….”

I explain the process of correctly applying the foundation with a damp makeup sponge, then how to do the rest of his face, including full eye makeup, brows, contouring, and blush. When I’m done, he once again looks like a gorgeous porcelain doll that has flawless skin.

I wonder about the strange look he has on his face the entire time, though. It’s not like the first time that I put makeup on him—where you could tell it was a foreign feel and smell to him. This time, it’s like he is enjoying the feel of the makeup.

It’s really strange how he is reacting, though. It’s not that he seems to be enjoying the prospect of wearing makeup itself—just the feel of the makeup on his skin. I don’t know how to explain it—something is just “off” with his reaction.

He groans as I show him how to remove my work, and then start having him apply it all himself.

As I hand him the makeup sponge, I say, “Just remember, Hon, if you don’t measure up, you’ll be in breach of contract. I think Lissa already explained to you what that means.”

After three run-throughs, he’s doing a surprisingly good job—and I relent.

He actually seems to have an aptitude for makeup!

Julia comes in right at that moment, and I notice it’s time for them to go home anyway.

I look at Julia and smile. Regardless of the circumstances, I’m proud of what he has achieved.

“Sam’s doing great for someone who’s never done this! I want him to continue practicing over the weekend, though. I videoed my first application and have posted it to the normal YouTube channel for him—just in case there are any questions. I’m sure you can help answer any questions, too. You’re certainly very adept at it all, yourself! There are plenty of supplies to get him through the weekend. I’ll restock anything on Monday that’s running low.”

I look back at Sam and give him his final instructions for the day.

“Also, Ginny wants you to just discard any of the old body care supplies—except for the deodorant and lip gloss. I know you probably still have nearly full containers, so don’t worry. Just pour it all down the drain, rinse out the bottles, and bring them with you on Monday. Throw anything that won’t go down the drain in the trash. It’s important to make a clean break from the old, and start the new products tonight.”

Julia promises to ensure it’s taken care of, and I hug Sam. He’s in some sort of trance and timidly hugs me back—then follows his Mom out.

I sigh and finish cleaning up things. I make every attempt to put him out of my mind for now. It won’t help either of us if I continue to dwell on it.

Anyway, it’s time to start my own weekend!

*****

Gary

*****

I hang up with James and am boiling mad!

I mean, I’m not mad at him—he’s been doing his level best trying to keep my son safe at the lumberyard.

That is, if that even is my son anymore!

I understand why James had problems with him at the yard. I just wanted him to learn the value of a hard day’s work and be a man!

Instead, he’s more of a girl now than ever before.

At least he never acted like a girl before all this nonsense! I mean, I never got the impression that he was a sissy, or anything—just short on man-juice. I simply don’t understand what’s suddenly going on with him.

And Julia seems to be happy to go along with it—whatever “it” is. More than that—she seems to be encouraging it!

They’re turning my son into a freak!

I need to put a stop to this—right now! This can’t go on!

I call Roger Brown, my attorney, and explain what’s going on. I send him an electronic copy of the contract from my files. I let him know I want him to fully review the damned thing—there has to be a way to break it!

He promises to take a look and get back to me.

Two hours later, he calls back and gets straight to the point. “Well, Gary. I don’t know how to break this to you….”

He takes a deep breath and continues, “If anything, they’ve been going light on Sam. They can still ramp this up considerably—I have no doubt they probably will, given what I know about their experimental trials. My daughter, Rhonda, has told me all about them.”

He pauses a moment and adds, “For full disclosure, she does work at WunderGirl, but it’s not a conflict in this case since they don’t have me on retainer. Yet.”

He pauses again, and I hear paper shuffling before he adds to my misery.

“Bottom line, if Sam doesn’t explicitly follow all instructions and finish the trial, he is in breach of contract. Since you signed for him as his guardian—that falls on you. The penalties are severe, and you would likely get jail time.”

He lets that sink in, then continues, “I don’t think you could afford it financially. It’s all compounded by the fact that you let them modify it with this ‘reserve’ model clause—and then took the money upfront. After that, they gave him thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes—as a bonus. On top of that…Julia’s contract is intricately intertwined with his.”

He takes another deep breath and sighs. “I really wish you would have consulted with me before you signed this. Bottom line—you’re stuck with it now! More to the point—Sam is stuck with it.”

I feel faint as he finishes nailing my coffin shut. “Unless you can show that they got you to sign it in bad faith—or they are somehow else in breach themselves—I see no way to break this. You’ve given me nothing to support anything nefarious. It’s completely iron-clad, which is what I would fully expect from a global, near-trillion-dollar company.”

I suck in my breath and…well…whine. “You’re sure? Really?”

He says, “Suck it up, man! At least your wife got a great gig out of it, right? And when the trial is over, your son should have a nice college egg! I can’t really blame him for not wanting to work at the sawmill! That place is barbaric! So what, if he has to wear a little makeup over the summer? It’s not like that makes him a girl, or anything!”

I groan and close out the call before I say something inappropriate. I may still need him before this is all over with.

I go and open my first beer of the day.

So what, if it’s only noon…?