Beginning of a long journey

After I had become a well-established high-end escort and successfully impregnated all four women in the household, Arjun and the family decided it was time to push my feminization further. “Rani must learn to live as a woman in the real world,” Arjun declared one night while sucking on one of my massive, leaking DD-cup breasts. “No more hiding only in this apartment. You will travel as our bride.”
From then on, public crossdressing became a mandatory part of my training and escort work.
The First Public Journey
My first real test came two weeks later. I was booked by Vikram Singh, the Dubai NRI tycoon, for a three-day trip to Goa. Arjun insisted I travel fully dressed as Rani from the moment I left the apartment.
Priya and Anika (both beautifully pregnant) dressed me that morning in a rich emerald-green silk saree with a low-back, deep-neck blouse that barely contained my enormous estrogen-swollen breasts. The heavy pallu draped over my massive cleavage, yet still revealed deep, soft flesh. Meena adjusted my exotic gold nath — the thick ring with its long dangling chain of pearls, rubies, and tiny bells — making sure it swayed prominently across my cheek. Full makeup, kohl-lined eyes, red lipstick, jhumkas, bangles, maang tikka, and a long wavy wig with fresh mogra flowers completed the look. I wore strappy heels and carried a designer handbag.
My heart pounded as we stepped out of the apartment building. The security guard did a double take. On the street, heads turned. Men stared openly at the busty, traditionally dressed woman with the prominent nose ring. I felt intensely vulnerable yet strangely aroused as the saree pallu fluttered in the breeze, my heavy tits jiggling with every step.
At Chennai airport, the humiliation and thrill intensified. Airport staff addressed me as “madam.” While waiting at the lounge, a group of businessmen openly leered at my overflowing cleavage. Arjun had forbidden panties under the saree; every movement reminded me of my smooth, exposed pussy and plugged ass (a medium vibrating plug locked in place for the journey). When the security check came, the female officer ran the wand over my body and paused at my massive breasts, then smirked at the obvious bulge of the plug under my petticoat. I blushed crimson as the tiny bells on my nath chain tinkled softly.
On the flight to Goa, I sat in business class again — this time fully as Rani. The male flight attendant flirted shamelessly, offering extra service while staring at my chest. I spent the flight crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling the plug shift inside me with every movement.