Bobbie's Wedding – Getting Ready by Jamie B

'Time to get you ready Bobbie!’ she exclaimed, and look who I have
found to help us.

I turned, my stomach opening into a bottomless pit, when I saw my
beautiful Kaitlin standing in the doorway. She burst through with her
usual enthusiasm, arms flung wide open to envelop me. Her skirts
swishing against her sheer stockings.

'Darling, I'm so happy for you', she gushed, pulling me to me feet, her
perfume stirring memories I would have rather left buried on this
humiliating day.

'Who would have thought you would be a blushing bride before me. I'm
jealous', she pronounced kissing me on the lips.

'Let me look at you, she demanded', holding me at arms length,

'Bobbie, you are absolutely gorgeous, Reagan is going to cream himself
when he sees his beautiful bride'.

'Oh Kaitlin', I sobbed, tears running down my cheeks, 'I didn't want
you to see me like this, I love you'.

'And I love you darling', she replied cradling me in her arms, 'but we
both know you were never much of a man, you'll be so much better off in
panties darling, and this way we can still be friends, share girls
secrets, and when our babies come along, we'll be even closer. My only
regret is that you didn't ask me to be your maid of honor'.

My mother interrupted, handing me a lace handkerchief. 'Now dry your
eyes, dear, we can't have a puffy eyed bride. How about Kaitlin stays
to help you get dressed'?

'Oh please, Bobbie, pretty please. I'm just dying to see you in your
gown'.

What could I say. I could never refuse this gorgeous girl anything.
Dabbing my eyes, I nodded. I had never been so humiliated in my life.
But there was worse to come, as my mother commanded me to hold up my
arms. She took the lacy hem of the satin slip she had loaned me during
my makeup session and slipped it up my body, carefully over my bee-hive
hair, revealing me in my intimate lingerie to my former girlfriend. It
took all of my remaining self control to stand there, perched shakily
on my satin pumps with four inch heels as I watched her take in my
budding breasts contained and molded by my strapless bustier, my
nipples hardly covered by the lace flower edging that made the garment
so humiliatingly feminine

Her hands flew to her mouth. 'Oh my god, Bobbie, your wearing Aubade
lingerie right'?

I nodded. My mother adding, 'tell Kaitlin we selected the Volga
collection dear'.

Then to Kaitlin, 'its just so feminine and lacy, we thought that when
Reagan sees his bride stripped out of her gown in such lovely lingerie
it would make up for Bobbie not being quite complete'.

'Turn around darling, See Kaitlin what's so nice is the gorgeously lacy
front high cut panty, but cut away at the back to accentuate Bobbie's
little tushie. Imagine Bobbie bent over the bed presenting her husband
with that sight. I don't think it will take long to get this marriage
consummated eh Kaitlin'?
'Mum!' I protested over the giggles.

'Your mum's right Bobbie', Kaitlin insisted between giggles, 'you look
so sexy in your garterbelt and stockings plus that killer panty and bra
set. Knowing Reagan his cock will be to the hilt in your bottom before
you can get your panties off'.

I blushed to the roots of my lacquered, flower encrusted hair, wishing
the floor would open up and swallow me. My humiliation was complete. I
was standing before the girl of my dreams in my bridal lingerie with
vivid images of her on my bed, totally naked, legs wide open, as I gave
my everything to satisfy her with what I now knew was a totally
inadequate penis.

'But you know what is so freaky Mrs. Smith? Bobbie's lingerie is the
exact style I have chosen for my wedding trousseau!'
'Well I never', my mother exclaimed, 'I always knew you two were
kindred spirits, just not meant to be man and wife.'

'I know what you mean Mrs. Smith', the love of my life replied, as if I
was not there. 'I tried so hard to love Bobbie, in spite of himself,
but I always knew there was something missing. Now I'm engaged to Neil
I know what it was'.

'I know what you mean dear', my mother replied conspiratorially, 'My
Fred was hung like a horse. Some days I could hardly walk, but I never
complained'.

They giggled, completely oblivious of the tears running down my cheeks.

'Oh Bobbie'! Kaitlin chided, turning her attention back to me. 'Stop
blubbering. I still love you, but as a sister. Now dry your eyes you
silly goose and lets go tinkle'.

Taking my hand she led the way to the ensuite bathroom. 'I'm just have
to go' she said flicking the back of her dress up and wriggling her
panties down before she sat.

'You’re embarrassed'? More a statement than a question, as I tried to
ignore the sound of her urine stream hitting the water.

'I nodded', not meeting her gaze.

'Bobbie, you're a girl now, and girls are much more open about their
bodies than men. Of course just with other girls'.

'Kaitlin, I'm sorry, I'm just not used to the idea of being a girl. I
didn't even want to be one, especially with you'.

'Now Bobbie, I'm going to get angry with you. This is your wedding day,
and you are the bride. What could be more feminine than that? My god',
she exclaimed, reaching at the same time for a piece of toilet paper,
'in just a few hours you are going to be filled up with your husbands
sperm, cleaning his sticky cock with your mouth, parading around in
your sexy nightie trying to tease him hard again so that you can get
some more cock, and you have doubts about being a girl'?

'But, Kaitlin', I protested, 'we were lovers. How can you forget that'?
My words delivered with all the pain, hurt and humiliation I felt.
Standing up, she rearranged her underwear. Turning me around, she
deftly slipped my panties down around my knees, then gently but firmly
pushed me down until I was sitting on the toilet, the seat still warm
from her shapely bottom as she continued to lecture me.

'Bobbie, think back, the only time I ever expressed any satisfaction
with our love making was when you went down on me, right'?

I nodded, ashamed to admit the truth.

'That's right', she reaffirmed breaking my heart, 'your cock was
pathetic, as pathetic as your lovemaking. Tonight when Tom drives his
cock into you and your writhing like a fish on a line, part agony, part
ecstasy, all passion, wanting more, holding your breath waiting for his
next thrust, totally submissive to his desire, think back to when you
were on top of me, with that pathetic excuse for a cock just inside me,
and you'll realize that the committee's decision that you should spent
the rest of your life in panties, on your back, servicing a virile man
was right'.

'You silly fish', she chided, suddenly changing tempo. 'You're so lucky
to have a second chance'.

Then lowering her voice conspiratorially, 'once we’re both back from our
honeymoons there is nothing to say we cant spend the odd afternoon in a
nice fluffy bed pleasuring each other with our tongues. Who knows we
might even put on a performance for our men to spice things up a
little. But make no mistake about it; you're a cunt just like me. You
are nothing more than tits and ass to the world Bobbie. So like it or
not, the only cock in your life from now on will be pumping cum into
your hole'.

I broke down completely, my body racked by sobs. It was like I had
died, the images she was painting were so vivid. I was doomed to be a
female, a sperm receptacle and sex toy of virile men. This was my life,
I thought wiping away a tear with a manicured finger, my vision filled
with my lacy panties stretched between my nyloned legs. Every sobbing
breath I took constricting my breasts in the prickly lace cups of my
bra, reminding me of my fate.

My pee started, and it seemed as if the last of my manhood flowed into
the toilet with the urine. Urine that I noticed smelled different since
I was on the estrogen treatment, and for the first time I accepted the
finality of my femininity.

Tearing a piece of toilet paper off the roll Kaitlin folded it up
before handing it to me. 'Always pat yourself dry', she advised. 'You
might as well practice for when you have your final anatomy'.

I flushed and pulled my panties carefully back into place over my
garterbelt.

'Ok lets get your makeup repaired', she said, taking charge.

It took ten minutes, but when we emerged from the bathroom, I felt and
looked like a new women. Sad, maybe, regretful of what might have been,
but resigned to my fate.

'Well', my mother said, 'we were about to send out a search party.
Girls we have a wedding to go to. Come on, we can't have a naked
bride'. Adding with a giggle, 'Well not just yet anyway'.

'Ok, sweetie', she directed, 'over here, bend over and hold on to the
chair'.

I made my wobbly way over to the high backed chair, wondering if I
would ever feel secure walking in high heels, especially on thick
carpet, and grasped the chair back.

'That's right honey', mother encouraged, 'now step back a little and
stick your bottom out'.

'Mum', I protested, as I felt my panties being slipped down.

'Darling, this is for your comfort', she assured me as what I took to
be a finger probed my sphincter. Then something popped in, propelled
deeper by her insistent finger.

'What are you doing'? I cried, a mixture of embarrassment and
discomfort, as she repeated the operation.

'I just inserted two suppositories', she informed me, completing the
task by wiping my crack with a cold wet wipe, then pulling my panties
back into place.

Turning, I asked why. It just seemed that my 'special' day was one to
be indignity after another.

'After the ceremony', she explained, holding a frothy crinoline open
for me to step into, 'there will be opportunities for you and your
husband to be alone for a few minutes'. Kaitlin offered a steadying
hand, for which I was grateful. Then as my former girlfriend drew the
crinoline over my hips and fiddled with the waist tie, my mother
continued.

'Unless I miss my guess, Reagan will be like most grooms, anxious to try
out his new wife, you may find yourself with your skirts up, bent over
a table in a corridor, or service room. When a man is in a hurry he
doesn't realize it takes a girl time to lubricate properly to be able
to receive his cock comfortably. The suppositories help with the
lubrication problem and they have a little anesthetic as well'.

'Mum'! I protested, 'Reagan will be a gentlemen and wait until we're in
the bridal suite'.

'Don't be so sure', she cautioned, a smile on her face. 'On my wedding
day, I was sitting in the loo taking a pee, when your father burst in,
a raging hard-on, and demanded I suck him off'.

'MUM'! that's disgusting.

'Not really darling, I thought it was quite sexy actually. There I was
my skirts piled up around me, still peeing, as I swallowed your
father's huge cock, my bridesmaids giggling and sneaking a peak. A wife
for less than an hour, and the vicar on the other side of the wall.
Ooow, look at you', she said stepping back. For the first time I had to
agree with her that I looked very nice. No. Virginally sexy. My legs
and underwear teasingly visible through the semi-transparent upper
section of the crinoline, hinting at pleasures yet to be revealed. This
was complimented, as the crinoline ballooned out with 200 meters of
tulle flouncing in three layers, to give my gown its fullness and the
hint of feminine frills under my outer skirt.
I stood looking at myself in the full length mirror, knees shaking,
hardly able to believe that the image I was looking at. The confection
of silk, lace and satin, that was me. My stomach, churning as I
alternated between my image and watching my Mother and Kaitlin take my
wedding gown off the door hanger, out of its bag, and prepare it for
fitting to the very blushing bride.

Thank goodness all that was required of me was to stand still as the
gown was passed over my head. That was trial enough, the frothy skirt
first bunched up then when it reached my hips, then sitting snuggly as
my mother fell to her knees fluffing it out so that it fell to the
carpet enveloping my crinoline.

Meanwhile Kaitlin held the brocade bodice up indicating I should pass
my arms through the spaghetti straps, while she stepped around behind
me, bringing the gown together and slipping the zipper up into place. I
was a bride in my gown! Demure and virginal, no hint of the delights
that awaited the exclusive use of my husband. No hint that nestled in
the crotch of my very lacy, very feminine panties lay a nearly useless,
laughable male appendage, the last visible sign of my former life. I
felt tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to ruin my mascara. I
brushed them away, very conscious of the false eyelashes that gave me
the doe eye look the make up artist said complemented my facial
structure.

I suspect Kaitlin and my mother knew my fragile state. The final stages
of my dressing progressed quickly. A pearl necklace, a present from my
husband to be was draped around my neck. Matching earrings were quickly
slipped into my freshly pieced ears. My mother sprayed the air with a
heavenly perfume (Chanel 5 I would learn later, my husband's favorite),
and then directed me to walk into the mist.
While I held out my hands for my mother to fit the dainty wrist length
lace gloves and tie the ribbon bows Kaitlin fitted my headdress into my
hair.

I pursed my lips for a fresh application of my lipstick, the waxy taste
still foreign as I heard the opening strains of music through the door.

Kaitlin pecked me on the cheek, whispering, 'Goodbye and good riddance
Bob. Good luck and love to my beautiful Bobbie'.

My mother pecked the other cheek, 'Now you be sure to make your father
and I proud of our new daughter, and enjoy your life as a dutiful
wife'.

I went to move towards the door, when my mother called a halt. Dropping
to her knees in front of me she had me hold up my skirts as she snapped
a wide blue and white ruffled garter around my right thigh, just below
my stocking top. Fluffing it out she pronounced me ready, smoothing out
my skirts as I let them fall back in place.

With that Kaitlin dropped the blusher veil over my suddenly chalk white
face handed me my bouquet and I took my first steps into my feminine
future.