Candice

Lisa spoke to Harold:

"We want you to stay to help but we also want Candice to strip herself naked. Will that be a problem?"

I could feel Harold tensing. He blushed.

Lisa continued "I can see that it will be. Would you object if we blindfolded you?"

Harold shook his head. "No. I could live with that, I think."

"OK. Candice?"

I took my silk blouse off and blindfolded Harold with it. Then I stood up and took the rest of my clothes off. I know I shouldn't have but I draped them carefully over Harold. I stood naked in the middle of the room and twirled slowly. My friends joined me there. Frances handled my hair, parting it gently and lifting it at the nape of my neck. Sandra ran her fingers lightly over my face and down to my shoulders. Lisa felt my rump. At first I was nervous but their touch began to arouse me. My nipples tightened. Lisa noticed. Her hands cupped my breasts and squeezed them gently.

Frances took a hand and after examining it front and back, kissed each finger and then repeated with the other hand. Sandra was stroking my back and legs. I shivered with pleasure. Three gentle pairs of hands caressing me was too much.

Lisa whispered in my ear.

"Candice, we've completed our examination. Go and sit on Harold again."

"Do I have to?" I whispered.

"I think you have to." whispered Sandra "If we continue we might forget why you are here."

"OK." I whispered reluctantly. All three kissed me gently, then I walked back to Harold.

"Harold," I said, "I'm sitting down again. OK?"

He held his arms out blindly. I took them and wrapped them round my waist as I sat on him. His trust in me was almost frightening.

Lisa spoke first.

"I think we've seen enough to assess Candice. Do you agree?"

Sandra and Frances nodded.

"Then Candice can get dressed."

Shame. I was teasing Harold. I dressed, finally taking my blouse from his head. I waved my bra-covered breasts at him as I put it on.

"Candice!" protested Sandra "You're not being fair to Harold."

"I suppose not," I admitted "but..."

Frances cut in. "You are exploiting him. He's a friend who has problems, just as you have problems. We should be helping him, not embarrassing him."

"Sorry, Harold," I said. I hugged him and settled down on his lap again.

Lisa added, "We know that you can embarrass Harold."

Harold nodded.

"You can also excite George. That's two men whose opinions are worth noting. Whatever is wrong with your appearance it doesn't really affect your appeal for them. They know and love you for WHO you are, not what you look like. Remember that whenever you look in the mirror because it doesn't tell you the whole truth. Now I'll let Frances and Sandra give their advice. Frances?"

"OK, Lisa. I can do quite a lot with your hair in three months, Candice. It needs restyling, actually it needs to be styled. Who has been cutting it?"

"A friend at the hospital." I replied.

"It shows. It has just been cut, without any attempt to give it any form or shape. Apart from styling it needs to lose the dandruff..."

"Dandruff! I haven't got dandruff!"

"You have." Frances emphasised. "Not much but you have some above each ear. That isn't helping. You aren't using the right shampoo. Whatever you use is too fierce and you have been washing your hair too often with it. It has dried your hair to a lifeless mess. You don't use any conditioner. All that is easily corrected. I think I can make your hair look very much better after two or three sessions. It will not actually BE better until your changed diet takes effect which will take about six months but I WILL make it look better until then. I can disguise the improvement whenever George is around. You do not need to worry about your hair. It will be sorted."

That was too much to accept. I burst into tears again, burying my face in Harold's shoulder. He stroked my 'lifeless' hair.

When I stopped crying I turned back to Frances.

"Thank you. I didn't think you could do anything with it."

"I am an expert in my own field, Candice, just as you are in yours. Are you ready for Sandra's expert opinion?"

I nodded.

"Right, Candice." Sandra started "You wash your face with soap?"

I nodded. All three of them were horrified.

"That is most of the problem. You are using ordinary soap, not moisturising soap?"

I nodded again.

"Then stop. Now! I will give you a cleansing lotion to use. While that will help stop more damage you will have to come to Frances' salon once a week for a couple of hours for me to repair what is wrong now. You WILL come."

I nodded.

"When you come to the salon we will give you a full assessment and treatment."

"Won't that be expensive?" I asked plaintively.

All four laughed at me.

Harold answered for them.

"No, Candice, it will not be expensive. It will be free."

"FREE?"

"Yes, Candice," said Lisa "Free. We are your friends. We are going to sort you out. You will walk down the aisle in a free wedding dress made for you. Your hair will be styled for free, your bridal make up will be free, your photographer will be free, your limousine will be free." She paused then laughed "Even the choir is performing for free."

I couldn't understand. I could accept that Lisa, Frances and Sandra wanted to help, but the other things.

"How?" I spluttered.

Sandra explained "You are loved by the community. You underestimate your impact on Silverbridge. You may be only a staff nurse but you are involved with the youth groups, fundraising for the hospital and the church, and you always care for your patients above and beyond the call of duty."

Frances added "George plays his part as well. He helps train most of the school football teams, boys and girls, and runs summer courses in the park. Neither you nor he accept any pay for your voluntary work so the community has decided to support your wedding. Harold has had so many offers of help..."

"If you wanted, Candice," Harold said "you could have had a sponsored honeymoon, but that offer I did turn down."

"I thought I was having a quiet family wedding. You are making me nervous."

"It was never going to be a QUIET family wedding." Lisa said

"Have you forgotten what your family and George's family are like?"

I put my hand to my mouth. How could I have forgotten? Both families were very active in Silverbridge and I didn't know any quiet self-effacing ones except George and me. We were the quietest. Left to themselves, even just bringing all the members of both families together was likely to cause a riot.

"Why do you think George asked Harold to be his best man?" asked Lisa. "Only Harold out of all your friends could cope with the complexity of all the arrangements."

"There is no need for you to worry, Candice," said Harold "all you have to do is look your best on the day and enjoy yourself."

"But..." I said.

"But nothing." said Lisa. "Harold and all your friends will make sure that your wedding is perfect."

I started to cry again, with happiness this time. How could I deserve such friends?

They ignored my tears and made arrangements for sorting out my hair and skin. Frances and Sandra were comparing diaries.

I sniffed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't worry, Candice," said Sandra. "We've sorted out a programme for you. You will come to Frances' salon on Tuesday and Thursday evenings; every week." I will do my part on Tuesdays. Sandra will do hers on Thursdays, or we might work on you together.

I did. Not only was Lisa ordering me around but Harold, Frances and Sandra made sure that I followed my diet. At first I found it very difficult and I was almost forcing the food down. After a couple of weeks my stomach and body had adjusted after a couple of days embarrassing constipation soon cured by Lisa with syrup of figs. I had no secrets from her. Lisa's monitoring of my diet was relentless. Every evening I ate dinner with Lisa and Thomas, and George until after the first week when he left for his course. I made the dinner every second evening. That was good practise for when George and I are married.

George was to leave on a Sunday. The Saturday night we ate dinner as normal with Lisa and Thomas, then left early. We walked around the town holding hands for a couple of hours before returning to our flat and bed.

For once I let George take the initiative. He stripped me and threw me on to our bed before jumping me. After a few minutes kissing my lips and breasts he straddled me and penetrated. It was rough at first because I wasn't as well lubricated as I am normally when I delay matters for a long session of foreplay. After the initial pain I enjoyed being George's apparent victim for once. I wasn't going to let him make a habit of it.

He came quickly, too quickly. I teased him about it, gently of course, but he knew I expected a better performance. The poor man was almost apologetic. When he had recovered he made a real production of arousing me with his lips, hands and tongue. When finally I rode him my orgasms were already shaking my body. I used him unmercifully all night. He was still sleeping when I brought him breakfast in bed.

Soon afterwards, too soon, he had to leave for the station. I drove George there and kissed him at the platform barrier. I waited until his train had gone. As I turned sadly to walk away I came face to face with Harold. I threw my arms around him and sobbed on his shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around me and one hand stroked my hair until I had cried myself out.

I looked up at him.

"Why are you here, Harold?" I asked.

"Because I thought you might need a friend, Candice," he said. "Come on. I'll drive you over to Lisa's for lunch."

I found out later that Harold had walked three miles to be there for me. He drove me to Lisa's in my car. I had another sobbing fit in Lisa's arms.

I was so worried about George's impending departure that I hadn't recorded what happened when Frances and Sandra and their staffs assessed what could be done about my appearance.

They made me feel like a patient, a helpless patient that was important to them but they were in charge. They were going to use their professional skills on me. All I had to do was co-operate, or else!

In retrospect they didn't do much that week. I was washed all over and examined in detail. They even took numerous digital pictures of me. Their language about the state of my body, skin and hair was depressing. Frances noticed my increasing concern.

"Don't worry about what we say, Candice," she said. "We are unhappy about your present condition: so are you. We are sure that we can do a lot for you in the next few months and your improved diet will help us. For the first couple of months we won't be doing much except to help your body and skin repair itself. By your wedding those will be eminently satisfactory. Your hair is a more difficult problem. Three months isn't really long enough to produce the results you and we want."

"But..." I started to say. Frances cut me short.

"You will look great on your wedding day. Most of it will be a real and sustained improvement. What isn't fixed by then we can disguise or enhance. The hair will take longer than three months. To be at its best will take a year..."

I squirmed in the chair.

"...I know," Frances continued, "you want it great for then, not in a year's time. We can do wonders but not miracles. We will make it look like it will really be in a year's time but keeping that appearance would be high maintenance and ultimately self-defeating. The products we will use on the day would impair your hair's healing if we kept on with them."

She turned to Sandra: "Is everyone ready?"

Sandra nodded.

"OK, Candice, come on."

I followed them through to the back of Frances' hair and beauty salon. I felt virtually naked with just a short robe wrapped around me. In the back room was a large bath with what seemed to me like a crowd of women. Sandra whipped off my robe and pushed me towards the bath. Willing hands helped me in and started bathing me.

"Just relax and enjoy it," Sandra said as she and Frances left me to their staff.

I did. These girls, for they didn't seem old enough to be women, yet I knew all were at least 18 years old, gently applied foaming lotions and soothed my skin with soft cloths. I lay in that bath drifting in a haze of warm mist as their hands treated my body to a sensuous gentle massage. I was aware that I was rinsed off several times for different treatments. My hair was shampooed, massaged, rinsed, shampooed again, rinsed... I was in a dream like state when I was wrapped in warm towelling and softly carried to a padded table.

My feet and hands received special care. My face was anointed, that is the only way I can describe it, as if it was delicate china. This sort of treatment I could enjoy.

When Sandra and Frances returned I was being stroked with fur mittens. My whole skin felt new, alive, responsive to the slightest touch. I was sexually aroused in a non-sexual way. That sounds odd. What I mean is that I felt all female and totally aware of my body. The hands that were caressing me were doing it professionally with an expertise that I envied. If George could handle me like this I would be shuddering into a whole series of orgasms. Now I just felt soft, warm and blissfully content.

Sandra examined my skin before wrapping me again. Frances felt my hair. They thanked their staff. So did I.

"Candice?" Frances asked, "How do you feel?"

"Wonderful," I replied drowsily.

"So you should," Frances said, "that treatment is usually reserved for our richest clients because of the number of people required to give it. Today you had our trainees and a trainer. Do you think the trainees are good?"

"Good? I don't think I'd survive if they were expert and could do better than that. I'd be orgasming uncontrollably."

"Some of our clients do," Frances giggled. "It can be embarrassing. You are going to have that treatment every week. In between you must shower with water only and use a special soap we'll give you for washing. OK?"

"If you say so... Every week!" I exclaimed as that sunk in. "That is a lot of effort from you, isn't it? Can I afford it?"

"There is no question of affording it, Candice," Frances retorted. "It is part of our wedding present to you and George. We're sure he'll appreciate the results."

"Thank you. I'm sure he will. I know I will."

So it was. Every week I was pampered. Gradually I began to notice the improvement in my body tone and skin. My face looked smoother. My breasts were almost silky. I could feel the difference at the roots of my hair yet most of it was still rough to the touch. After a session at the salon all of my hair felt smooth for about a day. By the following week the roughness was apparent again.

Harold and Lisa were very busy with the arrangements for the wedding. I felt very guilty that they were doing so much work. My parents were very grateful to them as well. My father and mother had moved away from Silverbridge so having such a competent couple working out all the details was a great relief.

Harold's main contribution to the improvement of my appearance was a suggestion. He told me to go to an optician and see whether I could wear contact lenses. He recommended the optician. I was wary because I had never worn contact lenses. After a few weeks I became used to them and one Saturday evening I wore cat's eyes lenses for a joke. I couldn't see any difference looking through from inside but they certainly had an effect on others. Now I only wore my glasses at work and when George was home.

Poor George. On his first free weekend he noticed that I was already filling out and becoming less bony but Sandra and Frances did things to me the evening before he came home so that I appeared to be as I had been. As soon as he left the camouflage came off. I didn't like deceiving him but it had been my idea. I made up for that deceit by giving him everything he wanted in bed. We had a wild time experimenting with mild bondage and role play. He had always liked me to play at being a nurse. I kept an old uniform just for our games. It was perfumed with my smell, not the pervading stink of disinfectant that my normal uniforms never lost. Apart from the nurse I played policewoman and stern teacher that weekend. I can't remember exactly what roles he took but we spent most of that weekend in each other's arms. I think George went back to the course to rest, poor thing!

I had a reaction at the beginning of the week. Having George back was great but he had gone again. On Monday evening I went to Lisa's for a first fitting for THE dress. Harold would be there but Thomas would be out on a training run with a schoolboy team that George normally helped. The Glossies and the Vixens had spread out George's coaching between them.

It had worked well even if one schoolboy team had objected to having Jane to train them. If they had been older I think they would have appreciated Jane but they were at the age when they thought girls were sissy and couldn't play football. Jane showed them. She took on the whole team by herself and dribbled past all eleven of them to score. Then she did it twice more to prove that it wasn't a fluke. After that they listened to her. If Jane had been male she would probably have been selected as a striker for the Glossies.

In Ladies football she is unequalled by any striker in our league. If the rest of us Vixens were as good in our roles as she is in hers we would never concede a goal or lose a match.

My comments about Jane avoided the depth of despair that I was feeling as I entered Lisa's flat. Having George for a weekend and then saying goodbye for another month had brought all my fears to the surface. Would he still want me in two months' time? Would I be transformed into a desirable woman? Could I deceive George until the wedding day? Why did I want to deceive George anyway?

Was I right for George? Or he for me? Everything was whirring round in my head as I pressed the bellpush. Harold opened the door, looked at me and opened his arms. I fell into them and blubbed all over him. This was becoming a habit. What must Harold think of me? Each time I greeted him I covered him in tears.

Harold accepted my tears as if they were a perfectly normal way to greet a friend. Almost before I realised that I had arrived I was up in Lisa's flat with my hands wrapped round a cup of coffee. Harold was whispering encouraging words in my ear. As I finished the coffee Harold got the whole sad story of my doubts and fears poured all over him.

Harold talked sense. He usually does. By the time Lisa came in I was calmed down and rational again even if Harold's shoulder was damp.

"Why, Candice?" asked Lisa.

"Why what, Lisa?" I tried to play innocent.

"Why have you been crying all over Harold?"

Harold replied for me.

"Pre-wedding nerves and she's missing George."

"But she had him all weekend."

"And now he has gone for a month. Be reasonable, Lisa, it isn't pleasant to say goodbye to someone you love."

"OK, Harold, but I think Candice has nothing to worry about. George loves her."

"I know." I replied for myself "I want him here with me, not in London."

"It won't be long, Candice. Then you will be married and you'll have him for ever."

"It may not seem long to you, Lisa, but two months seems like an eternity to me."

"Well, you have got Harold if you need more than sympathy."

Harold flinched in my arms.

"Don't worry, Harold." I said, "You are my friend. I won't ask for more than you can give. Someday..."

Lisa interrupted me "...we'll sort Harold out and show him what he has been missing. Almost any of the Vixens would love to educate Harold, to say thank you if for no other reason."

Harold blushed. I pecked him on the cheek.