Tuesday was Jacinta’s Naked Day. Clad
only in her favourite leather slippers and clutching her purse, she
took the bus into town. There was the occasional lingering admiring
glance cast her way, as well as the way of several other instances of
bare female flesh on board; she met those frankly, with an answering
smile. But even in this day and age, there were also one or two more
furtive, almost guilty looks; these baffled her, but she had given up
worrying about them.
The sign outside the door said BODY SCULPTING, REMODELLING AND
COLOURING. She went up the stairs to the waiting room, and smiled an
acknowledgement at the receptionist’s look of recognition. Without
waiting to be told, she took a seat and waited.
There was just one other customer there.
“Your first time?” Jacinta asked her.
The other woman looked faintly surprised. “How did you guess?” she
asked.
“You’ve still got your clothes on.”
The woman blushed.
“Don’t worry, they’ll give you a bag or something to put them in,”
said Jacinta. “That’s why it’s easier not to bother to bring them in
the first place.” She gestured at her own unclad form. “Less to carry.”
“How long have you been undergoing these treatments?”
“Since I was forty.”
The other woman gasped. “You don’t look—”
“—Any older than you?” Jacinta finished her sentence. She nodded.
“I’m sixty now.” She looked over the other woman. “You don’t need to
look any younger. Not yet.” It was a question.
The other woman looked down, slightly embarrassed. “I’d still like
to have a nicer figure, look slimmer, that kind of thing...”
Jacinta nodded agreement. “Of course.”
“Jacinta?” She looked up at the sound of her name. The therapist
was at the door of the inner office, and beckoned her in. “And how are
you today?”
“Just great,” replied Jacinta. The therapist called up her file on
the large wall-screen visible to both of them. There was an image of
how her body looked now, and superimposed on it, a very slightly
different image.
“Continue with the same tweaks?” the therapist asked. “Keep
narrowing the hips? Lengthening the neck and legs? Plus the usual
wrinkle prevention.”
Jacinta looked away from admiring herself in the mirror filling the
other wall. “Yes, please.”
“Right, come this way.”
Jacinta lay down on the flat table under the machine which had a
rather fearsome number of pointy bits on jointed arms attached to
it. At the press of a button, the nozzles—for that’s what they
were—leapt forward and begin to lay thin coatings of custom-secreted
transparent gel on accurately-positioned strategic points of Jacinta’s
body.
“OK, just lie still for a couple of minutes and wait for the gel to
be absorbed,” directed the therapist.
Jacinta lay quietly for a while. Then, with nothing else to do, she
spoke. “You know,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with
clothes on.”
The therapist laughed. “That’s very true. It’s because I’m always
sculpting myself. As a professional, you have to keep your skills
current with the latest techniques,” she replied. “And who better to
try things out on, than myself?”
“And keep yourself looking oh-so-good while you’re at it,” added Jacinta.
They both had a chuckle at that.
The treatment wasn’t over yet. Once the
carefully-tailored gels had been absorbed into the right parts of the
skin, it needed around twelve hours of at least partial exposure to
light in order for the right reactions to take place. You could go
about normal daily activities, whether in sunlight or artificial
light; any visible light would do.
Hence the need to go naked for a whole day. Most people got a
regular treatment once a week. With such great popularity, it became
impractical to secrete oneself away in private for so long, and so
often, just because one had no clothes on; work and life had to go
on. And so, gradually, concepts of “embarrassment” and “modesty” gave
way to practicality, and it became accepted and commonplace to go nude
in public. Particularly when those nude bodies looked so good. And
their owners discovered what a mutual pleasure it could be to admire
and be admired. After a while, nobody even bothered to ask, or
explain, whether it was actually one’s official, treatment-mandated
Naked Day.
After the visit to the therapist, it was time for Jacinta to go to
work. The office was within walking distance, and she met her friend
Flo as they entered the building.
“What have you got for today?” asked Flo.
“Presentation to the project team,” replied Jacinta, with a slight
grimace. “Then some market-survey brainstorming ... mind-melting type
stuff.” She rolled her eyes.
“Meet for lunch as usual?”
Jacinta nodded vigorously. “I’ll be needing a break by then.”
There was a girl at reception she hadn’t seen before. Smooth, bare
olive skin, deep dark green eyes ... that caught her gaze, and held it
as she crossed the foyer.
“You’re new here,” remarked Jacinta.
The girl smiled. “Retirement loses its shine after a while. Got to
keep the old brain in shape.”
“And the body to match.” She didn’t even try to hide her glance
down over the counter.
The girl smiled again. “I’m Roz.”
“Jacinta.” She held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I like your tits.”
Jacinta leaned over the counter, bringing her swinging nipples
perilously close to the top surface. “How do you like them now?”
“I like them even more.”
“Yours are nice, too. Has anyone told you how ... voluptuous you
are?” She licked her lips.
The girl laughed with delight—a low, throaty, contralto laugh.
“Like to have a feel?”
“Jacinta!” A peremptory voice from the elevator.
“Damn. Coming, boss! Sorry. Got a meeting.”
“I’m here Tuesday and Thursday mornings.”
“See you again, then.” Jacinta blew the girl a kiss, and sprinted
for the elevator.
It was lunchtime, and Jacinta was
grateful for the break. She and Flo were seated at an outdoor café
table within sight of the company building. “Where did you get your
outfit?” she asked Flo.
“At a nice little boutique over Seahaven way ... I must take you
some time. When you next feel like dressing up.”
“Clothes are nice to wear,” agreed Jacinta. “Just not all the time.”
They gave their orders to a handsome young male waiter who turned
up. “Catch the arse on that one,” commented Flo in a low voice, as the
waiter walked away.
Jacinta turned, observed the aforesaid anatomical item filling
a tight pair of pants, and grinned. “You know I like them more curvy
... rounder ... female,” she emphasized.
“You ought to try it with a guy sometime,” commented Flo demurely.
“Maybe,” replied Jacinta. “Imagine shagging someone with no tits.”
She giggled slightly. “Might make a change. After I’ve had my fill of
women.” She leaned back in her chair. “Which might happen in another
thirty or forty years, give or take.”
Flo raised a delicately-shaped eyebrow at her. “Just don’t leave it
too long.”
Back at the office. Devon, a colleague,
wanted a private word with her. He was in his fifties, just starting
to go grey, but he always maintained a trim, fit figure in his stylish
business suits.
In his office, he cleared his throat with just a hint of
embarrassment. “It’s kind of personal,” he began.
When nothing further seemed to be forthcoming, Jacinta looked a
question at him.
“I’m thinking of starting ... the treatment.”
Jacinta’s face lit up. “Is that all?” She waved her arms
enthusiastically. “Go ahead. It’s great. Best thing I ever did. No
regrets. Makes you look and feel young again, not to mention
prolonging your life no end.” She calmed down a bit. “Honestly, what
can I tell you about it that you don’t already know?”
“As you may know, I rather enjoy the ladies.”
“Sexually, you mean? So do I,” replied Jacinta immediately.
“Was it difficult for you to adjust to ... the bodily changes?”
“Well, the changes were my choice. Except for...” Jacinta’s voice
trailed off. “Oh, you mean to adjust to becoming female?” She
nodded. “Sure, I was sad for a long while over losing my cock. It took
some time, and practice, to adapt. Getting used to having tits, and
sensitive nipples. Walking from the hips. Just figuring out how to
pee. Ah, the joys of women’s clothes. And for quite a while there I
thought I would never have an orgasm again.” Then she grinned
widely. “But it was worth it in the end.” She stood up, and struck a
pose for her colleague, spine curved to jut out her tits, hands on
buttocks thrust back. “Look at this body.”
“You’re gorgeous,” agreed Devon.
“I think so too. Do you think I’m vain? I’m not vain. It’s just a
fact. This is a great bod I’m wearing, just like that’s a great suit
you’re wearing. And just like your suit, it takes a lot of effort to
get it to look right. This lovely skin”—she patted her own bare
buttocks—“is my clothing right now.” She paused, and a look of
uncertainty came over her face. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Oh no,” responded Devon vigorously. “I got over that years
ago. Now I just enjoy the view.”
Jacinta smiled. “I enjoy the view of the same things from here. My
view of other ladies ... and my own personal view.”
“I just keep wondering if there’s a way...” He let his sentence
trail off.
“To undergo rejuvenation without being feminized?” Jacinta
frowned. “I’m no expert, but as I remember it’s the fundamental nature
of the process. Interaction with the body’s own hormones, or
something. Tied up with why women tend to live longer than men
anyway.” She shrugged. “At least the transformation is pretty
flawless, with all the right body parts. You can’t tell just by
looking that I’m an ... ex-man.”
They looked out the window, at the busy late-afternoon crowds
below. It was hard to miss the proportion of bare flesh visible
everywhere. All of it bare female flesh. And if you looked closely,
you noticed that there was a distinct preponderance of femininity
among the clothed individuals, too. “It’s becoming a woman’s world.”
Jacinta thought of Flo. “I don’t mind that personally, but yeah, it
gets a bit harder for those who prefer guys.”
“That’s not quite what I meant.”
Jacinta laughed. “Sorry. Put it down to my one-track mind. But you
can still be all the man you want”—she pointed to her temple—“up
here. The best place of all. Take it from me, there are women who
appreciate that. And whether they were actually born female or male
won’t matter; they’ll be looking just as good, and enjoying it all
just as much, as you.”
“Just like you?”
“Just like me.”
“Feel your tits?”
“Only if I can feel yours.”
“It’s a date.”