The second time waking up as Theresa was in some ways even stranger than the first, because not only was there an alarm jolting me awake, but I was in someone else's home and bed, completely disoriented. I didn't even know how to silence the alarm on Theresa's iPhone right away, making me nervous that it would wake Austin up and he'd offer to help.
There would be no avoiding that, but, still, I wanted an hour or so before he was awake to myself. He'd been either in the room or just out of sight for the past 24 hours, and I was already starting to feel a bit smothered, and though I wasn't really thinking in terms of it being a guy-and-girl thing, the fact that we were in his life and he had experience with both the Inn and being a woman had him tending to take charge. I don't necessarily feel like I have to be the guy in charge, but between not seeing anyone for a while and the pandemic, I hadn't been spending more time with anyone than a thirty-minute rideshare, so it had felt like a lot.
I stood quietly in the bedroom after I'd silenced the phone, listening to hear if I'd woken Austin. Apparently not. I got some of the new underwear out of the drawer and a robe from the closet, and made my way as quietly as I could to the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind me before looking in the mirror.
Either Theresa gets bedhead too, or there was still some part of me there. I'd never seen her like that, but seeing half my hair kind of puffy and one side pressed flat made me feel a little more myself. It inspired me to make a few faces in the mirror, which was kind of reassuring, because I thought maybe Theresa's face wouldn't make the right expressions or something and I'd just look blank instead of looking like I was thinking.
Then it was time; I pulled the t-shirt I'd worn to bed off and saw what I had in the way of breasts.
Given how many people on this site talk about being really big, I guess I am lucky or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. I'm not quite flat, but I don't look like I've got something attached to my chest. I had a pretty clear tanline, although my skin wasn't that dark. I gave them a little poke and even pinched at a nipple a bit and was glad when I didn't just immediately melt into a puddle or anything.
I still avoided looking between my legs more than I had to before taking a shower, which wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Yeah, there's a weird moment or two at my chest being soft and I kind of forgot just how much water and shampoo hair can hold when it's this length, but mostly it felt nice to get a couple day's worth of sweat off, even if it meant I was touching things I had no business touching that way and a little unnerved as I felt my breasts squish and move as I scrubbed.
Drying took a little while, and my first time putting on a bra was a challenge, but I didn't want to ask Austin for help. I'm don't know why the clasps aren't in the front in most cases - is it an engineering thing, or just a women's clothing traditionally having fasteners in the back? Seems like that would make things a lot easier.
I brushed my hair into a shape that looked more or less okay, put the robe back on, and took a breath as I left the bathroom.
Austin was awake by then, and looked me over critically, said "Well, you look nice, but not work-nice," and then led me to the dining area, where all of Theresa's makeup products were laid out, and apparently the first lesson was mascara. And it was weird.
Not just the makeup - although using semi-solid gunk to extend your eyelashes is really weird - but the way Austin seemed to change while putting it on me made me wonder what months of being Theresa would do to me. He had said the day before that he'd enjoyed being a woman and had wanted to be the one to become Theresa, but it had just been a thing he said - he'd seemed to fall back into being more or less the guy I remembered from high school quickly enough, in terms of voice and mannerisms and stuff, but as he went on about doing this to me, his voice was a bit higher, and he seemed to light up a bit. And it didn't really feel like envy - he really seemed to enjoy just doing this thing and seeing the results that made me look prettier.
I guess it could be worse. He didn't really seem to be trying to recreate me as someone he'd be more interested in having sex with, and I guess a lot of people who go to the Inn find themselves on the receiving end of lessons in femininity from people who don't look like they should know anything about it, after all. Just weird.
The whole morning was like that, and much of the week. He's been pretty good about starting me slow with the clothing, in that I've managed to stay in pants and flat shoes for almost two weeks, although I think he's dropped by to take me out to lunch a couple of times less to ask me about how things were going than to see how the women in the office were dressing so he could suggest that maybe it's time for skirts, heels, and maybe a different color of lipstick, although he's also pointed out that some of them go with a lighter hair color, like the one in the box on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. He also seems to take his time figuring out which earrings and stuff go with which outfits.
I'm starting to get the hang of it, but I also get the impression that he's not terribly worried about that beyond my being able to touch it up in the afternoon - that aside from brushing my hair, he's pretty content to be in charge of getting me dressed and made-up in the morning.
That's handy. But weird.