The Gathering -The Meetup

Stepping off of Yasgur’s Farm for a few minutes. Had an idea stewing in my brain, and this is the place where I get this out of my head.

*Why didn’t I bring something to drink?* he thought to myself while he waved to the ranger at the gate. *I don’t know if I can do this*

He pulled up to the beautiful lakeshore beach. Beautiful hills surrounded the lake, and the view inspired him to take a picture of the scene. Trees reflected off of the glasslike water, and the whole view brought peace to his agitated state. He went to the back of his trunk and pulled out two bags. Eight AM on a Wednesday morning, in October took this place that is wall-to-wall all summer long to a ghost town. Patrick Flannery huffed as he walked the two hundred years from the empty parking area to the other side of the park building. There was a Family Restroom at the far end of the building. Like the other restrooms at Lake Charlotte, this had a shower, a changing counter and obviously a toilet. On the other hand this was all in one room and had a lock.

Patrick began by locking the door and taking a nice warm shower. After that, he began to shave every inch of his body, not that he had much body hair, but after 20 minutes, he was smooth from head to toe. A chill went across him, and he didn’t know if it was from all the work and what he was about to do, or from the October chill coming under the door. After getting dried off, Patrick went into a small bag and removed the chastity device within. It took a few minutes of fiddling, as always, it was in place, with both the lock and the safety tag with the number on it. He took a picture and sent it off to his loving wife Allyson, knowing that at this point, he was committed for the entire day, as the keys were in Allyson’s purse, forty miles south of here.

Patrick took his suit bag and hung it from the shower rod. He took a folding stool from the side bag, and set it up in front of the large mirror. Opening his boring looking shaving kit, he took his makeup out and with a practiced nature had it complete in fifteen minutes. As he swiftly slipped on his light brown wig, brushed it into place and pulled her hair into an easy ponytail, for Trish, the transformation was complete.

She slipped on a set of white panties, with a matching garter belt, and some thick, black wool stockings. A lacy matching bra went on afterwards, with a white, lacy, knee length slip slipped over her head. Next a yellow plaid dress slipped on to just below the knee. A thick black belt cinched the waist. Trish then unbuttoned the top three buttons, until she saw the white of the edge of the slip. She next pulled out a black cardigan and slipped that over her istanbul travesti shoulders. Next, she stepped into a pair of shiny red shoes, with a two inch heel.

Trish packed up her things, and walked to the door. A shudder went over her body as she slipped out the door and started carefully walking towards her car.

*Ooof* *Part one done* She thought as she got in the car and drove away. After pulling into one of the picnic areas she set up a tripod and camera and took some shots for Ally, setting down the valley shortly after.

Next an hour car ride ensued. She had about ninety minutes to make it on time. She decided to take a detour to do some shopping in a Lane Bryant store just outside of Capitol City. She ended up buying some stockings and a bodyshaping undergarment. Ten minutes later, she pulled into the Capital City Museum. She walked in the front door, gave a gentle nod to the guard and walked to the New Amsterdam subway car in the rear of the first floor. She saw her friend was already there. Trish knew at scraping six feet in height she was going to get some stares in a dress. Madison, well everyone was going to be stared at anyway. Six feet, four inches, she would have cut an image dressed as she did for work, in her firefighter’s uniform. In the Fire Engine Red skirt suit, she was such a shapely woman, she would turn heads in a package half as tall. Long shapely legs, ended in patent leather oxfords. Nude tights, a black blouse, and a string of pearls adorned her neck, bringing attention to her cleavage.

“Madison?” Trish asked.

“PATRICIA, you look absolutely LOVELY!” Madison leaned in and kissed both cheeks, like they’ve been friends for eons. She led Trish out of the subway car, and they walked around the museum together, holding on to each other like they had been together for all these years. In honesty, they’ve never met face to face before.

“It was strange taking pictures of my cage,” Madison said upon getting into a quiet part of the museum. “I never did that before. I hope she appreciates it, I’m feeling half crazy right now.”

They walked around the museum for a while, and wandered through the exhibits, pausing at the bird collection, most of which was donated by Theodore Roosevelt. Pausing at some spectacular birds of prey, Madison looked around and gave Trish a gentle kiss on the lips. It was reciprocated, making both ladies slightly weak in the knees.

They walked to the lot, and got into separate cars, meeting at a busy restaurant where they could talk and discuss the second part of their plans

“So are you ready for the party tonight?” Madison asked, as the food was delivered.

“I think so. So many big travesti istanbul steps today. Allyson has our accommodation ready. Apparently she found a ‘special’ place”

“That’s nice. Is that where we are getting ready?”

“She wants us there at 6.”

“Excellent”

They spent the rest of the late lunch talking about growing up and what brought them to the point they got to. Madison, real name Mike O’Reilly, had started dressing after a girlfriend left on a month long trip to Europe, and left a nightgown and panties at his apartment. After about a week he got horny, and started rubbing the nylon up and down his body. After two weeks he was wearing it, and after three, he started his own clothing collection. When she got back, she didn’t like seeing her tall, strong firefighter in a garter belt and stockings so she left. Madison was born, and came out about three times a month and has had dates with men, women, and in between in the intervening ten years. Madison also enjoyed being a submissive and locked herself up whenever she wasn’t working. She admitted that she would definitely lock herself up more, but it was unsafe to do while working as a firefighter.

Trish talked about how she went clothes shopping with her mom and aunts while he was small and wondered why he couldn’t get any pretty clothes. He also talked about sneaking girl clothes. Though Patrick was fairly dominant, and Allyson usually called him Master, Trish was a switch, being dominant to women, and definitely submissive to men, though he hadn’t played that way, except for online. Today was the first time they were playing in public. Trish also worked as an engineer, and got dressed about 3-5 times a month. Trish typically locked herself up when she got dolled up mainly to keep her on task as a girl. Allyson liked submitting to both Trish and Pat, but for today, asked Trish to make sure she locked up and prove it, because she only wanted to limit Trish’s play to being in front of her.

They paid the bill and arrived at a nondescript house in a rural area. They both brought out suitcases, and went inside. Allyson Flannery heard the heels on the steps and quickly knelt inside the front door after opening it.

Allyson was tall, skinny, almost to the point of waif. Wavy red hair framed a freckled face and tapered to the end between her shoulder blades, which were covered in black cotton trimmed with white lace, as she dressed in a more “utilitarian” version of a french maid’s costume. The only adornment she wore aside from the dress and apron was a single gold chain, with a small silver key attached. In a pillow in her hands, which were resting on her knees, was a round key. Like one istanbul travestileri would find on a vending machine, lockbox, or female chastity belt. This was attached to a more decorative thick rope chain. Trish bent down, and picked it up and put it around her neck, kissing her wife on the forehead while she was bent. Leaving her there Trish and Madison went to the other end of the house, looking at the furniture at the place, wordlessly looking for the bedrooms. Some of the furniture definitely was dual purpose, they both noted.

*Another time* Trish wistfully thought as she found the Master Bedroom. She opened suitcase

and withdrew “THE” dress as she thought of it. Hanging it on the hook provided on the closet door, she stripped out of her day dress. One of her favorites, and definitely pretty, it would look totally out of place at The Gathering. Taking off her bra, she was grateful the breast forms from the morning were still working.

*Its such a shame I have to take all this makeup off to just put more on* Trish thought as she sat down in just her panties and stockings at the makeup table. “Maid” she bellowed.

Not twenty seconds later, Allyson walked into the room to see her husband nearly nude at the vanity. She removed her wig and wasted no time in doing her husband’s makeup. Trish then stood up, and Allyson went to the bag and helped put on a white linen corset, and assisted in fitting it into place.

Trish, who never removed her red pumps from earlier, stepped into the red sequined mermaid dress. Allyson then assisted by zipping it up and after assisting Trish with a wig of her own bright red color, she started to swoon.

“Mistress, it looks perfect on you!”

After about 40 minute’s work, Trish went from semi fashionable *young* professional looking woman to being an absolute knockout as a thick Jessica Rabbit. Trish pulled a black leather corset out of her bag, and before Allyson could say anything, it was wrapped around her and getting tighter and tighter.

“Allyson, it doesn’t do for me to have better curves than my beautiful wife” Allyson blushed, both with the humiliation that turned her on, and the thoughtfulness of her husband. After Trish finished, Allyson got a rag, and knelt down to clean whatever grime had accumulated on Trish’s shoes. As she rose, Allyson also fixed her apron above the corset, and stuffed her hair up into a wig cap. Trish, assisting, slipped a light brown wig on her head, already in an updo with the cap attached. Allyson was now a, albeit flatter, copy of Yvette, the maid from *Clue*. They heard footsteps. Madison was now a “giant sized” copy of Dorothy Gale, complete with a little yorkie stuffie in her wicker basket purse.

“Allyson, you drive, you know where we are going” was the last thing anyone said before they left the house and got out to the car.

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