💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~nifty › tv › kathi.gmi captured on 2024-05-10 at 13:20:20. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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In 1981 I came to Utah by way of the U.S. Air Force. I was just a kid then
and not very experienced in the ways of the world. I knew I was a
transvestite and had some clothes and shoes and stuff and basically played
around in my dorm room when alone. I joined a local Church and met Brenda
(not her real name, of course). Brenda was going through cosmetology school
at a local junior college. After we had been friends a while, halloween came
around. I asked her what she was going as to go to a costume party we both
had been invited to, and she said she was going as a pimp. She asked if I
knew what I was going as and I jokingly replied "how about going as your
hooker?" She (surprisingly) said that was a great idea. Well, that was a FUN
halloween. I won't describe what I looked like because that wasn't the best
part. The best part came about a year later. She came to my apartment one
night to talk. She said that she was finishing cosmetology school and needed
a subject for her "final exam." She said she remembered how good I looked
when she dressed me up for halloween and wondered if I would consent to doing
something like that again. I thought it over (for about two seconds) and said
why not? She told me the idea behind it was to show a before picture and the
result after she worked her magic.The final exam was to test all of her
knowledge of the techniques to make people beautiful. She felt that if she
made a GUY to look beautiful, she would be sure to impress her teachers and
pass with flying colors.
The exam was about two months away. She started me off on a diet and
exercises to slim my waist and build up my buttocks and hips. She was indeed
a harsh taskmaster but knew I would comply because she could tell that I
liked women's clothing, etc. Her goal was to get me from a size 8 to a size
6. Now I know what women go through to attain and keep a figure. Other things
I had to do were keeping out of the sun as much as possible, using lots of
lotion, etc. She also gave me walking lessons, sitting lessons, and coaching
in other feminine mannerisms. She said she wanted the difference to be as
total as possible between the "before" picture and the "after" me. Therefore
she wanted me to be as feminine as possible.
The day of the final was drawing near when she took me clothes shopping. She
knew a friend that managed a clothing section in the local ZCMI (a local
department store) and we went in after the store had closed to try stuff on.
Much to her delight (and mine!) I WAS indeed a size 6 by that time! It felt
so good to try on such beautiful clothes! We (she actually) settled on a
gorgeous deep green dress (she said it brought out the color in my eyes) and
black pumps. I was in heaven, especially when I saw myself in the mirror (I
sound pretty self-absorbed, don't I?). I couldn't believe that it was ME that
looked like that! The dress hugged the curves of my body, now quite feminine
due to the dieting, exercise, and my normally skinny body.
The weekend before the final drew near and I spent the time at her apartment
(nothing happened). The starting of the REAL work of the transformation had
begun! We had already discussed that, short of plastic surgery, she could do
anything to me she wanted to. Saturday she basically just had me in some of
her clothes to get the "feel" of being a women and trying to let those
reactions take over. Sunday came and the "fun" began. Ever since that Sunday
I have had a deep respect for women and the things they have to do to their
bodies to stay beautiful. First, although my body hair was sparse due to a
late puberty, we Naired up my whole body. I didn't realize all of the fine
downy hairs I had on my body (she did) until I looked in the water about
half-an-hour later. It was kind of cold with no hair on my arms, legs, etc.
She then plucked my eyebrows (God, that hurts!), and, since while shopping we
couldn't find any cute clip-on earrings to go with the dress, pierced my
ears. More pain! What was I getting myself into?!
She then gave me a full set of the acrylic nails and I then experienced the
most excrutiating boredom of my life waiting for my polish to dry. We spent
the rest of the day with her practicing her cosmetic skills on me. She would
look in her books, find out how to correct the flaws in my face (small
cheekbones, large jaws, etc.), and try something until she got it right. She
was finally satisfied with her work and took a picture to remember what went
where. She then went to work on the hair. She was able to borrow a wig from
the school. It's length was about a foot past my shoulders. When she took it
out of the box, it looked like a dead pekingese. Not when she finished
though! She fussed with it, and sprayed it, and finally pronounced the
results complete. She let me go into the bathroom to see the results. I
almost (pardon me) shit myself! There was no WAY that this stunning,
desirable woman looking back from the mirror was me! She said "isn't it
amazing what a little makeup can do? why do you think we girls will never be
caught dead without it?" I then scrubbed it off (reluctantly) and we headed
for bed (seperately of course, I'm a bit of a prude).
Monday morning came too damn early for me. "Welcome to the wonderful world
of being a woman" she said. She did a last check of my eyebrows and nails and
pronounced me ready for work. Using her deoderant (you don't want to smell
like a man, do you?) and other bath pariphenalia(sp?) I made myself ready for
the day. I felt a sense of comradeship with her as a woman, like I WAS one of
them (I know, it sounds strange). She gave me a pair of her panties, black
hose, bra, and a black slip to wear.
Now she and I had jokingly discussed what to use for breasts; apples,
wadded-up socks, etc., but she tells me that she has a "surprise." She opened
up her top drawer and pulled out these strange, yet familiar shapes. She said
that she had to beg a friend of hers who had had a double-mastectomy to
borrow her silicone breast forms. They felt heavy and pliable next to my skin
and had the right "weight" and "bounce." They looked rather nice, too. I then
pulled the dress over my head and after a little tugging here, a little
smoothing there, she pronounced me ready. We went to the living room where
she had the assortment of makeup ready to go.
After constant references to the picture, she had the makeup to her
satisfaction. She put the wig on my head, fastened it, and began fussing,
trimming, and spraying it. When she had finished, she got a necklace out of
her jewelery box and put it on me. Next were the earrings. She let me put
them in myself. It was a great feeling to sweep back my hair like a woman
does and insert the earrings! I slipped into the shoes and she put some
perfume on me (Oscar de la Renta, which is now my favorite). She then
pronounced me ready for my own inspection. We went into her room where she
had a full-length mirror ready with a blanket over it. She told me to strike
a seductive pose. She shook her head and said that I should have been born a
woman. She pulled the blanket away from the mirror and I couldn't believe my
eyes. There in front of me was the woman that I had always desired! I saw the
shy femininity, and yet the seductiveness of this person in front of me,
except it WAS me! She had me practice walking in front of the mirror to
refine my wiggle, etc. She kept shaking her head and saying that I might have
to prove to her teacher that I was actually a man. We were almost out the
door when she said "I almost forgot, you'll need a name. You can't go around
with a guy's name." She said that she had always liked the name Kathi. I said
it sounded fine by me, and so we went. We got into her car and drove to the
college. I couldn't believe how many guys stared at stoplights. I was
embarrased and told her that people kept looking at me. She said that was
because I was beautiful, not because they thought I was a guy in a dress.
We reached the college and walked to her class, my heels clicking on the
concrete. Do you know what a beautiful sound that is!? At the door to the
building, I had my first door held open for me. On the guy's face, I saw the
same wolfish grin that I probably give to women I open doors for (if they're
cute).
She had me wait in an adjoining clasroom with the other girls (and they
really WERE girls. She was the only one who had thought of this plan). The
other girls were called out one-by-one until I was the last one (she had
arranged it that way for maximum shock value). I heard her say that she was
going to change the format a little. Normally the girl would be called out
and then her "before" picture was shown to the instructors and the class. She
said instead that she was going to show the "after" first. She called me out
and there was a little more than the normal amount of applause. Other girls
got more and I was jealous. I thought I was prettier than most of the others.
Then Brenda said she was going to show the "before" picture. She took my
Basic Training picture, with the shaven head and all, and handed it to her
instructor who kind of paled and looked back from the picture to me
repeatedly, then handed it to the woman beside her. The room was almost
deadly quiet for a while and then the instructor started clapping. Others
took it up until everyone was clapping for Brenda and for me. I had to talk
to the instructor in a male voice for a while until she believed me. She said
that I had "damn fine bone structure," whatever the hell that meant. She also
said that I made a better-looking woman than I did a man.
Needless to say, Brenda got very high marks and passed cosmetology school
with flying colors. Her instructor said that if she could make a man look
this good, her female clientele would be beating down her door.
Brenda has her own salon now and always gives me haircuts for free. Anytime
I want to dress up she will do my wig and makeup. She has taught me over the
years to do a pretty good job myself, but no one can do it like she can. She
says that I am good enough at it that I should become a cosmetologist. I
think I'd rather have it as a hobby. Do you know how bad perm solution
smells?
Every halloween that comes around finds me in her salon for a "full
treatment." My wife still does not exactly understand, but she is tolerant
(wouldn't you be if YOU got free perms and haircuts too?)
Anyways, there is a story from my past. Hope you enjoyed it! It was
definately one of the best experiences of my life. Sorry it was so long, the
memories just came crashing back! What a rush!
I'll write later.
Kathi