You get permission.

You quickly shower, keeping the water cool so not to overarouse yourself when it comes to sponging off your juice streaked pussylips and thighs. Gemma is waiting for you when you get back, tutting as she looks at the girls clothes you brought with you.

"These won't do at all." She says, holding up the baggy tracksuit which you used to throw on if you absolutely needed to go out while in your female body. "We've got to show the administrators that you're comfortable as a girl if we expect them to let you move in."

"I see Mistress Gemma." You reply. "It's just that I got more attention than I could handle looking like this anyway, so I sort of tried to dress down."

"I guess my hockey kit will do for now." Gemma says with a sigh. "The skirt will show those great legs off and after stretching over those huge tits of yours yesterday the top looks several sizes too big for me now."

"Sorry Mistress." You mumble.

"Never mind, at least you had better taste in underwear." Gemma says, having found the bra and panties you packed.

"Ummm, the girl at Victoria Secrets choose those Mistress." You admit. "I was too embaressed to go through all the things they had and just asked her to get something that would fit me."

"Well thank you shop assistant." Gemma laughs. "Get dressed and I'll help you with your hair and makeup."

You get dressed. The underwear is white and lacy, but the bra is underwired and strong enough to hold your big tits from bouncing around too much under the shirt. Once you're clothed you sit in front of the closet mirror as Gemma directs while she does your face.

"A fresh faced look for today." Gemma says, inspecting you. "Girly, but not slutty. That should present the right impression."

Gemma brushes back your golden blonde hair and uses a scrunchy to fix it into a simple ponytail. You turn your head, watching the way your long hair swishes in the mirror. She makes up your face sparingly, keeping you looking naturally fresh and innocent. Finally she applies some lip gloss.

"This shade so suits you." She tells you. "Touch of pink, wet look. Take a look and be honest, as a guy what you think looking at a girl with lips like that?"

You look. Your lips are full and pouting and the gloss makes them look moist and shining.

"I'd be imagining lips like that around my cock, Mistress Gemma." You admit, pursing your lips and licking them to see the effect.

"Exactly." Gemma agrees. "You look like the classic girl next door, sweet and beautiful."

After all the preperations and nervousness the meeting with the administrators goes without a hitch. Though they seem sceptical at first, Gemma and yourself sitting side by side assure them that you've developed a firm friendship and wish to room together. It probably helps that the administrator interviewing you is a middleaged man who has difficulty taking his eyes off you long enough to ask any searching questions about your curse and how it will effect the living arrangement.

"And you say that you're able to control your..err...condition much better now John...umm..Doe?" He stutters, his eyes glued to your swelling chest.

You artfully give a huge sigh that makes your constricted breasts heave and almost steams up the man's spectacles. When he looks up you run your tongue over your lips and purse them as though deep in thought. You notice that he shifts his chair closer to the table hurriedly, attempting to hide the fact that his thoughts toward you have wandered and he's sporting a unmistakeable erection.

"Oh yes sir." You gush, smiling sweetly at him. "Gemma has been ever so helpful in that respect sir. I've had such a difficult time with things as they are and to find such an understanding friend has been a blessing."

In the end your move is rubberstamped with some relief that a place has been found for you. The man remains seated at the end of the interview, pressed close to his desk. You see little beads of perspiration on his brow as you lean over his desk to shake his hand. You would lay money on his making an emergancy trip to the toilets to wank himself off as soon as you've gone.

"That was simply wicked Doe." Gemma whispers as soon as you're out of the room. "That poor man was like a fish on a hook. I can see that I'm going to need a firm hand with you."