Clint tied the laces and then paused to look in the mirror. He was unrecognizable. His makeup was impeccable and blended along the seams at his neck and shoulders, to hide any sign that his chest plate was artificial. The corset gave his waist the hourglass curve, his tuck left no sign of a bulge. Combined with matching bra and panties plus his hairless arms legs and pits, and there was no sign of Clint’s manhood at all.
The totality of the illusion was impressive, born out of months of practice. Maybe today, Mistress Heather would approve.
After blowing his first semester partying and earning an academic probation, Clint’s parents gave him a choice. Go off on his own, or go live with Mistress Heather. Mistress Heather specialized in “Taming wild young men by teaching them to be proper ladies.”
This was now Clint’s second semester attending community college while living with Mistress Heather as “Claira” full time. Every day started with an inspection by Mistress Heather before being dropped off on campus. Claira was on a 2+2 bachelor’s program. 2 years community college, 2 years at the State school. Clint hasn’t realized yet that his transcripts all say “Claira” and she would be the one making the transfer. He also hasn’t realized what the “Vitamins” he swallows every day are for.