Kelly: Now A Ms.
Dawn and I had
been dating for almost two years now after meeting in our senior year
of college. We shared a lot of interests, even having some of the
same hobbies. Both of us loved the outdoors, camping and hiking, our
favorites. A perfect weekend for us is a ten to fifteen mile hike,
camping under the stars, and then hiking back to our car the
following morning.
Since we live in
Prescott, Arizona, there are hundreds of destinations close by to
have that perfect weekend experience at. Just this last weekend, we
drove up to Oak Creek Canyon, then hiked in and around Steam Boat
Rock for several hours till dusk approached. We camped in the canyon
and were coaxed into slumber by the nearby stream babbling along the
rocky stream bed. It relaxed us, nature as its best, soothing and
refreshing our outlook on life.
Dawn is a
saleswoman for a beauty supply company, traveling the southwest to
sell her goods and services. She helps design beauty salons, then
sells the equipment and product necessary to operate them. She has
been doing this for a year now, starting in their company as a phone
salesperson, and then, when they decided to offer a salesman to call
on the salons, she raised her hand.
They gave her a
thirty-day trial, and by the second week, the job was offered to her
permanently. Her personality being her best trait, she can make
anyone relaxed in her presence just by talking with them. Her
knowledge of what a female wants in beauty services is phenomenal.
Her designs of several salons have made it apparent that she knows
the salon customer, what they are looking for, and what services they
will patronize.
Her degree in
business management, helping as she advises the new salon owner on
what services to offer and what prices the trade will tolerate. Her
salon designs tend to be more upscale, pushing the envelope for
opulence and exclusivity. One particular customer liked what she was
offered but had doubts about its profitability. Her friend, a
previous customer of Dawn’s, convinced her to try it. I am sure
there were some doubtful moments as Dawn’s designs were built into
the new salon but the first day of operation they booked appointments
for the next five weeks solid. That eliminated any doubt, causing
Dawn to acquire three more customers for salon designs.
My meager
existence is much more mundane. I had majored in accounting and
financial management in college but had to settle for opening my own
business; since they were few, if any, jobs available when I
graduated, at least in my field of study. It didn’t take long for
me to develop a small following of customers that were happy with the
services I provided and the rates I charged. Now after two years of
operation, I have a hundred customers and a secretary to help with
the business.
I earn a
reasonable living, but will not become wealthy with my business. As a
comparison, Dawn’s bonus checks are usually twice what my monthly
income turns out to be. That bothered me for a while until I realized
how talented and driven she is. I show up for work usually around
nine AM., but Dawn is at her first customer when they open, somewhere
around eight AM. That necessitates her getting up at six AM. so that
she can get dressed and drive to their salon.
I like my work;
it is a fun job, but Dawn is a fanatic about her job, eagerly
awaiting each day to push the envelope just a little bit more. Where
I drag my feet a little, she is airborne from the moment she is awake
until she sits down for dinner. We both are fairly attractive, with
Dawn two inches taller than me at five foot ten inches tall. Since we
exercise so much we are both trim, Dawn weighing in at 130 lbs.
versus my 140 lbs. Despite our height both of us have rather small
frames with narrow shoulders and less than average bums, although her
bums are quite a bit more photogenic.
Dawn’s
exceptional body part is her breasts, a full D cup they make her a
standout in any crowd. She is proud of them but does not wear clothes
to accentuate them. My noteworthiness is my face and hair. Ever since
rebelling in high school, I have worn my hair long, usually keeping
my dark ash blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. My face though
is another matter, a definite curse for a member of the male sex.
As the saying
goes, the genetic female gets the boyish looks and the coarse
straight hair, but the male gets the long curly hair, the gorgeous
lashes, and the cute button nose. Guilty on all three counts, plus a
couple of more, but who is counting. I have to watch how I dress,
anything androgynous makes me look like a female and the miss and
mams start. The fact that I was named Kelly after my mom hasn’t
helped matters in the gender area.
I know the name
Kelly can be used for either sex, but long hair, a cute button nose
and the name Kelly seems to translate as a female more often than
not. Since I am attached to my hair, with Dawn favoring the longer
locks, I have been forced to put up with matters as they are. I still
grimace when I am called miss, but usually do not correct them, since
it usually is more effort to explain than just to let it go.
That night when
Dawn made it home, she unpacked the bags of food she had obtained,
the smell of tacos and burritos made itself known to that cute little
button nose that was centered on my face. “What is the occasion
that deserves this treat,” I asked? We normally eat at home, a
habit that we started to save money so we could buy a house. We lived
together in a rented house that we shared, deciding to wait until we
could buy a house before we married.
With no close
relatives, we didn’t have to worry about everybody’s opinion of
us living together, a real problem usually where parents are
involved. We were both only child’s, spoiled rotten by our parents
but loved by them unequivocally. Unfortunately, both fathers were
taken from us by a drunk driver, way before they should have died.
Dawn’s father was involved in an automobile accident last New
Year’s Eve and mine after a visit to my college two months before
my graduation.
Of course, you
have figured out by now, that neither one of us drink any alcoholic
beverages of any kind. We do, however, love Root Beer, a fact that
can be blamed back to a hamburger joint at college that served the
best draft Root Beer around. After moving here, we had to spend an
unearthly amount of time and money to find a Root Beer that was
comparable. We ended up getting it from an internet company in
California and shipping it in. Now once a month, we receive a package
from UPS with two five gallon jugs of Root Beer.
Our nectar of the
Gods is also perfect with Mexican Food; I know that is weird, but we
do not necessarily conform to all the social do’s and dont’s. The
tacos were great; the burritos were fabulous with a sprinkling of hot
sauce to liven up the taste buds. The guacamole dip was fresh made,
with a taste of lime, fresh onions, and peppers. But the cool Root
Beer sliding down our throat afterward, made it heaven. This
particular brand of Root Beer has the foam top after filling a glass
with it, the telltale sign of a good quality drink.
The celebration
is because Dawn had made a new contact today. She explained. “An
owner of a chain of beauty salons wants me to work for her designing
and opening up new salons.” I could tell that Dawn is excited about
this as her speech and emotions were all over the place. “Francine
owns Turnabout Gurl Salons, a national chain of beauty salons,
catering to a specific customer. They have both male and female
customers, but the male customer was the one that the salon catered
to originally.”
Francine wanted
Dawn to start her own company doing what Dawn’s employer was doing,
but only for her salons. She would be responsible for the new salons,
also, going back and renovating the older salons as the time allowed.
I was thrilled for Dawn, but I wondered where the money to start the
business is going to come from and told her that. Then, Dawn pulled a
check from her purse, turning it around so that I could look at the
face of the check.
It was made out
to Dawn for 250,000.00 dollars. She also pulled out a business
agreement between her and Francine stating the conditions of the new
partnership. Dawn would have a fifty-one percent interest in the
company until all the original investment is paid back, and then she
would be the sole owner. The agreement is very straightforward, no
legal mumbo jumbo, just straight talk about all things that mattered.
As I was glancing
over the agreement, I noticed a business name that I was quite
familiar with on one of the contract lines. I pointed to the name and
asked what was going on. Dawn smiled. “Both she and Francine wanted
some expert financial and accounting help with the business. Since
you are an expert, your services will be required. You will bill for
time spent on the business, less a twenty percent discount for bigger
businesses.” That was my standard charge for my larger customers
anyway, so that was no problem.
I was shocked;
this was a quite lucrative opportunity for both of us, way too good
of a deal to pass up. I managed to get Dawn to tell me how she and
Francine had met, and what prompted the discussion of the
partnership.
“I had called
on her at one of her other locations when I heard of them opening
another salon in the immediate area. I got lucky to connect with
Francine as she was there to finalize some of the plans for the new
salon. I made my pitch and Francine was all ears. We ended up going
to lunch to discuss matters further, and three hours later the deal
was put to paper.”
Dawn was
reluctant to leave her employer but knew that this was a once in a
lifetime opportunity. She had no doubts about her ability to start
and run the new company, but with a little regret about competing
with her present employer. When Dawn gave them notice later that day,
they were shocked, but knew at some time she would leave, an employee
with that much talent would be sought after by any and all of their
competitors.
As they were
working out when would be her last day, her employer asked in passing
if she knew anybody that would be interested in buying the business.
“I might know someone, but a lot of it would depend on the asking
price and the present inventory.” They decided on a meeting later
that day around five. That way the owner could decide on a price and
ascertain an inventory figure.
Dawn made a call
to Francine, with the permission granted to buy the business if the
price and inventory were adequate. Before Dawn came home, her old
boss approached her with the price and inventory figure. Dawn studied
the figures, then counter offered at 25% less than that figure. The
owner agreed, and a declaration of intent was signed until the
lawyers could put it all down on paper.
The owner
confided to Dawn that he didn’t want to compete with her in
business since his downfall was a most likely outcome. So my future
bride, now owns a business in partnership with an owner of a chain of
beauty salons. I was also included in the package since I now had a
new account and a lot more business to handle.
As we got ready
for bed that night, I hinted that we maybe could look for a house and
schedule a wedding date. I received a very passionate kiss, and all
kinds of erotic occurrences were happening until the wee hours of the
morning. Maybe things were getting better; a wedding was now in the
scope of things, a wish that had been mine since the first time I had
met Dawn.
The next day
started two weeks of planned pandemonium. Meeting with lawyers to
sign the finalized agreements, changing ownership on a multitude of
permits and licenses, it was a whirlwind of activity. Dawn spent a
lot of time with Francine discussing ideas and plans for the new
salon. Apparently Dawn’s new partner loved her ideas and work was
started on the new salon. Four weeks to the day, a Grand Opening of
the salon occurred, and the crowd and attention from the media is so
fierce that you couldn’t get near the salon.
To say it was a
success was quite an understatement, the salon did more business in
their first week than all of the other salons in their first week of
business. Everybody is happy; even I am getting more involved with
the new company. From an accounting standpoint, Dawn’s new company
is selling more equipment and supplies with a lot less overhead.
I was doing the
books for Francine’s new salon, and on paper, they were more
profitable with the new prices they were now paying for their
supplies. In the newest salon, they had offered more upscale services
at a heftier price, the result is the services were booked solid. The
customer apparently desiring the new services that they offered, no
one else in the area was willing to offer these services, so
Turnabout Gurl made out like bandits.
Dawn and I did
talk about our upcoming marriage, and we settled on a date right
before Christmas. Since this was early April, we had quite a bit of
time to make plans and find a house. It was decided that I would take
the time to look for a house, or property to build, if all else
fails. Then the two of us would make the final decision. It didn’t
take me long to find that perfect house, and Dawn and I agreed on the
purchase price after walking through the home one weekend.
It was located
just south of Flagstaff along one of the side canyons near Sedona. It
had a beautiful view overlooking Coconino National Forest with a lot
of red rock pinnacles scattered in the background. The house was two
story with living room, kitchen, bathroom, and den downstairs while
upstairs, bedrooms and two more baths were housed. The outside was
all finished in cedar, with a copper colored metal roof.
Inside, the whole
house was done in knotty pine including the floors. Floor to ceiling
windows allowed the outside inside and brightened the interior making
it inviting and comfortable. In more ways than one, it was our dream
house. We set aside one day each week to furnish and move into the
new house. There was no rush since we had plenty of time, doing it
slowly and methodically a lot more fun anyway.
We kept the
rented house since we pretty much wanted to save the new house for
after we married. So we bought pieces of furniture and moved a little
of our belongings each week to the new house. Quite often we would
take sandwiches and fresh fruit for our work day, then sit in chairs
on the wrap around porch taking in the panoramic views of the red
rock country as we nibbled.
Every couple of
weeks, I would add one of the salons to my workload, and Dawn was on
her third remodel. Every salon that she redid increased their
profits, and also their business. Dawn and I did find time to talk
about the wedding, what we wanted, and who we intended to invite. It
was not going to be a large affair, but big enough to rule out a
small venue.
One evening as we
were snuggled on the couch in the rented house, listening to some
music, I noticed Dawn scribbling on a notepad. I watched for a while
to see what she was doing, her mind lost in some other dimension. She
was writing her name with my surname. I guess that is what most women
do, sometime before they marry since they take on the last name of
their spouse.
I was intrigued
as I watched the names she wrote. Her last name was Killian, and my
last name was La Mont. I was leaned up against her shoulder and was
watching as she tried all the different combinations. All were
prefaced with the salutation of Ms.; the names included Ms. Dawn La
Mont, Ms. D La Mont, Ms. D. Killian, Ms. Dawn Killian and to my
surprise, Ms. Kelly Killian. That name made me pause for a few
moments.
I guess it is
technically possible for a male to assume his wife’s surname, but I
doubt it is seldom done these days. I was going to ask about it but
decided it was just her playing around, no need to make a big deal
out of it.
Both of our workloads picked up and Dawn soon was hiring some help
for her company. Once I had the salons set up it was just data input,
so I got by with my part time secretary for two days a week. Things
were looking good, Dawn’s profits were steadily increasing, and she
had already managed to pay Francine some of the business startup
money back. Quite a feat for only four month’s of elapsed time.
Francine took
that money and opened three more salons, all unqualified successes.
Since Dawn is doing twice the business that her old employer did, she
was able to negotiate better deals on supplies and equipment.
Instead, of her having to contact her suppliers, the owners of these
companies were coming to her with the deals and promotions.
There was a few
things, specialty equipment that Francine used that Dawn did not
carry or use. She and Francine went to those companies looking for
better deals, or first rights for new equipment and procedures. They
were successful in their endeavors, even getting national
distribution rights on a couple of these procedures and equipment.
The upcoming
wedding occupied a lot of my thoughts; I guess mainly because I had a
little more free time than Dawn had. Dawn was on the go from early in
the morning until she arrived for dinner. We had set limits early on
with regards to the number of hours we would work on the businesses.
We loved the involvement but was cognizant of the need for time for
us. Thus, Dawn maintained no more than a ten hour day, and I usually
held mine at eight hours a day. Dawn did have to travel some since
there are so many salons, a two-day trip each week to the salons that
were farther than a one day drive from our house. The weekends are
ours, no business, no customers, just the two of us.
In the back of my
mind, I had pondered the surname thing over and over. It was getting
to be a problem with me. I wanted her to take my name after marriage,
but Dawn La Mont was far from an attractive combination. I searched
the internet for all information about the male taking the wife’s
surname. In the U.K., it was becoming more popular, but in the U.S.,
it was still hardly indulged in.
There were only
six states in the U.S. where a male could take his wife’s surname
without a legal name change being instituted. One of those states is
Arizona when applying for the license a couple could state what
surname would be used. I wondered what problems and situations would
occur if I chose Dawn’s last name.
Finally, one
evening the subject came up between us, Dawn was non-committal,
probably not wanting to hurt my feelings. We discussed it for over an
hour; I told her that I am leaning toward taking her last name, for
several reasons. The awfulness of Dawn La Mont the first reason, the
second being that her business was called Dawn Killian Beauty
Supplies.
She listened but
didn’t say too much. Finally, I tried to pin her down as to why she
was against me using her surname. I guess I had pushed a little too
hard that night, as she angrily shouted back. You haven’t the
slightest idea how this will affect you; a female has to adjust to
the new way of life. She is not viewed as an equal in the marriage.
She gives up a part of her person, her last name, to become a part of
something else. Very few couples have an equal relationship in their
marriage.
You will now have
to experience that for yourself, from Mr. Lamont to Ms. Killian.
People are cruel, conveniently forgetting that you are a male, you
gave that up when you decided to take your wife’s surname. Another
female might have a little sympathy and understanding for you, but
your fellow males will attack you with a vengeance. You gave up your
sacred right, so obviously you are really a female at heart.
I guess I had
opened a can of worms; I have never seen her so worked up. The
discussion died a slow death, as we were both too involved to have a
simple exchange of ideas, this resulted in it being an argument.
Neither of us was making any points or resolving any issues, so the
discussion was tabled until cooler heads could prevail.
Over the next few
weeks, the name subject did not come up, although it should have.
Business was still brisk for both of us, neither of us having the
time to do much else but tend to the problems with the company. I did
have the chance to talk frequently with Francine, and the subject did
come up once or twice.
Francine thought
the traditional method of taking the males surname would be the
better choice since the alternate choice was very unconventional. On
the second occasion of it coming up in conversation, she asked if I
was willing to put up with all the teasing and being made fun of that
would result if I chose to take her last name. I told her that I was
not looking forward to it, but if it came along with the choice, I
would endure it.
She told me there
might be a way to avoid the hassle of taking her name, but it had its
own consequences, and she was not sure that Dawn would approve of the
idea. Francine said she would talk to Dawn about it, without bringing
my name into the discussion, then depending on what she says, I will
be informed of the possibility.
It is a very
unusual solution to our problem that one of her friends used several
years ago. It worked for them, and they are very happy, but whether
it would be helpful in this circumstance would have to be determined.
I asked her to run it by Dawn, then get back to me, but I was still
favoring the option of taking her last name in marriage.
Francine did
approach Dawn about the subject, first telling her about her friends
and their approach to the problem of surnames. According to Francine,
Dawn thought it would be a hoot, but was sure that I would not go for
it. It was a subject brought up often between the two females as they
tried to look at all of the possibilities and variations that might
pop up.
Finally, it was
time to clue me in on the options and see what I wanted to do about
it. The two of them presented the deal to me after a sumptuous dinner
out. I was told that it was done in a public setting so that any
yelling and screaming would be minimal. Dawn started the discussion,
asking me if I still wanted to take her surname in our marriage. My
answer was an empathetic yes.
Next, was I still
totally committed to our marriage, since this option was most likely
to put the marriage under quite a bit of stress? I told her that I
wanted to marry her, whatever hoops or hurdles I had to jump to do
so. Dawn told me there was a way that we could join in matrimony and
me take her last name without much pressure on my male self. She held
my hand, squeezed it, telling me that the way to do that was for me
to be the bride in the relationship.
I sat there
stunned at her solution. She kept talking reminding me that same-sex
couples are allowed to marry now. If we married as two lesbians, I
could take her last name without much fanfare. I would need to
portray myself as a lesbian for a little while to make the union more
realistic, but could resort back to my male identity eventually.
The fact that I
could wear the wedding dress obviously a plus in the matter. I gave
her a scornful look, wanting to know why wearing the dress would be a
plus for me. She giggled that of the two of us; you would make the
prettiest bride, with your looks, especially that cute nose of yours,
being the clincher. I couldn’t believe her; she wanted me to be the
bride, just because I wanted to take her last name as my surname.
This was getting
way out of control, a simple wish of mine, to maybe make things a
little easier on her, and now they are planning on me getting a sex
change. Ms. Kelly Killian my ass. Needless to say, nothing was
resolved, in fact; it wasn’t even discussed further that night.
Several days later Dawn came home early, looking for me. It was a
Saturday, and she had to go in for a brief time to handle a delivery
but left as soon as that was resolved. She wanted to talk about the
wedding again, and what suggestions had been brought up.
She promised me
no arguing; she just wanted to talk things through. She especially
wanted to know what made me taking her surname such an important
issue. We decided to pack a picnic lunch and head to the new house.
The wrap around porch with its beautiful view of red rock country a
favorite spot for us to unwind and relax. The trip to the house
allowed us the time to put our thoughts together, especially me.
She made the
sandwiches, grabbed a little potato salad left from a couple of days
ago, and packed them into on our thermal bags. I grabbed a couple of
bottles of chilled white wine, and we were off. Also a gallon of Root
Beer. It is always better if you are prepared for any eventuality.
Arriving at the
new house, we made our way to the porch, set out the food and made
ourselves comfortable. The talk was easy here, our inhibitions not
visible, our emotions more under control. The food was consumed; then
we leaned back sipping the wine. Dawn started the conversation,
telling me how proud of me she is, wanting to ease some of the
burdens of marriage for her. She has no trouble with me taking her
last name after the marriage but is fearful of what I might have to
go through in the coming years.
Francine’s
friends ran into a lot of troubles when they attempted something
similar, resulting in them having to move to a different area to ease
the harassment. She doesn’t want to put me through this, so she
needs me to tell her why I want this change, and you’d better be
truthful about it since it affects both of us. Not just for a few
months but for the rest of our lives.
I pondered my
response to her; I really didn’t know exactly why I was so gung-ho
on this. It just seemed that taking her surname was the right thing
to do. I reminded her of her doodling that evening when she was
writing different names down seeing how they looked and sounded. I
mentioned that I saw her write Ms. Kelly Killian down as one of the
possible names, at that time she was thinking along the same lines as
I.
She blushed a
little, asking why I didn’t say something at the time. I told her
that I didn’t know what she was thinking or if she was just
doodling without any conscious thought behind it. All I know is that
I love her with all my heart and want to share the rest of my life
with her. It does not matter if I am Kelly La Mont or Kelly Killian
just as long as she is by my side.
Dawn smiled, then
suggested that we test the waters by letting Francine turn me into
Ms. Kelly Killian for a while, to see if it causes me more trouble
than it is worth. If I pass the test, I can wear the wedding dress,
have the kids, and be the Mom.
If not, we can
regroup and go back to Plan A. The only thing that stuck in my little
pea brain was to have the kids. Surely she can’t be serious. Dawn,
of course, ignored any of my thoughts and went on with her agenda.
She wanted me to make an appointment with Francine, to get the ball
rolling, on my conversion to Ms. Kelly Killian.
Dawn and Francine
had talked, and there were a lot of treatments that would help
convert me to a female at least in looks. Then after a couple of
week’s trial run, I could get a better idea of what problems I
might encounter as Ms. Kelly Killian. My job shouldn’t be a problem
since my business mostly deals with faxed or emailed data, hence no
need to actually meet people face to face. My problems would most
likely be with friends or relatives who would frown on a male taking
his wife’s last name. Our Mom’s the two who came to mind first.
I promised her I
would get with Francine, but wanted to know what she would think if I
came home decked out in a dress and heels. She giggled a little, but
just stated that she loved me for who I am, and it didn’t make any
difference to her how I dressed or acted. Besides with your cute nose
you probably will look better as a woman than as a male.
Luckily I didn’t
think about that at the time, but since that conversation, I often
have the same thoughts. Since I knew our Mom’s would be the biggest
problem, I decided to confront my Mom before I got hold of Francine.
My Mom lived outside of Las Vegas, just over the Nevada border from
Arizona, a two and a half hour drive from here. I had set a day aside
to visit her, to sound her out on this subject and to take her out to
lunch.
Needless to say,
there are lots of restaurants in Vegas to choose from, with us ending
up in one of the fancier buffets. The buffet was two hundred feet
long, offering every kind of food imaginable. After making our
selections we found a secluded table and nibbled at our meals. It
only took Mom a couple of minutes to figure out that I had something
to confess and wanted me to spill the beans. I decided to be blunt
telling her that I was going to take Dawn’s last name as my surname
in marriage.
She was not fazed
by that thought and continued eating her meal. A few minutes later
she asked if I was going to be the bride in the marriage. Whoa, how
did she reach that conclusion based on what I had told her? A smile
lit up her face, my reaction providing her answer. I was stammering
trying to recover from her assumptions. She held my hand and asked if
Dawn was alright with the decision. I told her I thought so, then
went on to explain our idea in a little more detail.
My mother told me
that she would have no problem with the arrangement as long as she
received some grandchildren from the deal. I told her that we would
work on it, but it was Dawn’s responsibility to handle the
pregnancy aspect of things. Mom asked if I was the bride and wife,
wouldn’t it be my job to have the kids. I looked at her in that you
have to be kidding way, asking her if she remembered that I was born
a male.
My Mom ignored
that last statement but told me when I was ready to pick out the
wedding dress, she would help me and, of course, pay for the dress. I
stared at her for the longest time but finally returned to the living
as she asked me how many kids did Dawn and I want in our marriage.
She and her grandchildren, that topic had come up quite often in our
phone conversations recently, I guess getting older does change your
priorities in life. I never did answer her question directly, also
quite sure the topic will be brought up again in the near future.
With nothing
settled or talked about anymore, I kissed her goodbye and headed
home. Dawn broke out laughing as I recounted the day’s activities,
asking me if I preferred breastfeeding or formula. In mock anger, I
told her breastfeeding, it is much better for the baby.
Her Mom responded
the same as my Mom, wanting to know who was wearing the dress, of
course, Dawn had to tell her immediately that I was to be the bride,
the wife and the mother of our children. Her Mom’s response only,
“Kelly will make a lovely bride.” Is it the whole world that has
gone crazy; now everybody wants me to be the bride, and the mother,
which last I learned was impossible for a male? Although on a couple
of occasions since then, I have removed my pants to make sure that my
member is still there. With the mother’s in the know, it was now
time to call Francine and get my sex change.
I made the call,
she asked only one question, did I want to be just a token lesbian or
did I want to be believable. Ever since this subject was brought up,
I had debated in my mind to what degree did I want to be transformed.
I told her that I wanted to keep my male equipment if that is what
she was asking, but for it to be hidden away was a given necessity to
achieve the lesbian image. Now that I had said that out loud to
another person, I was extremely nervous. It is one thing to think it,
but to admit it to another human being puts it in a totally different
perspective.
She made the
appointments for me, two full days of getting rid of the male in me,
although she confessed that a lot of the time it would be just
unlearning old habits. Since I looked so cute already, it would be no
problem to make me ultra girly. I sincerely hope she was kidding me
on that. The next day was my first appointment, at the ungodly hour
of seven A.M.
I notified Dawn
of my commitment that night, and I guess she wanted to be sure that
she got in her frequent flier miles before my little fella was hidden
away. It was four A.M. before she let me get to sleep, and then, to
add insult to injury, when she got up at six to get ready for the day
she pushed me out of the bed. “Time for Kelly to get pretty” was
her mantra as she showered and did her makeup. She was definitely
looking forward to this way more than I would have imagined. I did
manage to get to the salon, although, I almost dozed off a couple of
times at stoplights.
Walking into the salon, one of the ones that Dawn had designed, I was
shocked. It was like entering into another world. For one thing, the
amount of pink used in the decor would leave a lot of people
partially blind. The pink in the walls and everywhere was so pink
that I could close my eyes and see nothing but pink, a bright pink I
might add. I was greeted at reception by Jules, the manager of the
salon, rubbing her hands together like she couldn’t wait to get her
hands on me. Her first comment was you are going to be so cute, all
of the girls can’t wait to get their hands on you.
She left me in
one of the treatment rooms, but not before getting me naked and
taking my male clothes with her. Sally was the first technician, to
work on me, way too happy to use the hot wax on me, leaving me as
smooth as a baby’s butt. Just the way she jerked off the cloth
strips, I could tell that she was having fun. She did make up for all
the pain as she rubbed some soothing lotion into my denuded areas. I
was informed that with the next waxing I would no longer need to
worry about body hair. The combination of a special wax and the cream
used after, permanently stopped any hair re-growth. I guess I am
alright with that, I was never fond of my body hair, since the macho
male look was not something I ever alluded to.
As an
afterthought, Sally reached up to my eyebrows, can’t leave those
messy things; they will have to go. A little more wax and a cloth
strip to each brow and I no longer had any eyebrow left. I started to
protest, but she told me that it would be much easier this way, she
was saving me many hours of tweezing eyebrows in the future. Since it
was too late to reverse the process, I let the protest die a quiet
death.
The same cream
was used on my beard area, applied thicker and rubbed in more. It was
left for thirty minutes; then she used an astringent to remove the
cream and what little stubble I had at the present. Sally gave me a
big hug, thanking me for letting her work her magic on my body. I got
a cheek kiss as she whispered in my ear that you are going to be one
hot looking babe, so cute. Not exactly what a male wanted to hear,
but looking in the mirror in front of me, I could tell that today’s
treatment had encouraged quite a bit of my masculinity to fade away.
Janey was the
next technician to have her fun with me, her words not mine. I was
still lying on the table as she entered, introducing herself and
telling me what she was going to do for me. She was in charge of
adding curves to my straight up and down body. She helped me to slide
down the table a little more and put my feet in stirrups that were
sticking out from the end of the table. She had brought several boxes
with her, and as she placed them on the table next to me, I suddenly
became aware of how accurate this portrayal is going to be.
She started with
the boobs, placing two jiggly mounds on my denuded chest. She made
marks for the correct placement, then added glue to the form and also
my chest. I was told these were state of the art hi-tech breasts
capable of transmitting touches to the chest and nipple area
underneath. The weight of the breast form was surprisingly heavy; it
made me wonder what it was like for Dawn to manage the D cup breasts
she had. I guess if you grew up with them, it would not be that big a
deal.
She placed each
one of my hands over a breast to hold them until the glue is dried, a
weird feeling if you have never held your own breasts. It was almost
like they were a forbidden item, the simple act of touching them
would cause trouble for me. As I held them they wobbled a little,
like holding two sacks of jello, they were never still. When she told
me to release them, my hands couldn’t leave the form fast enough.
She chuckled, telling me that soon they would be one of my best
friends, whether I touched them or some other lucky individual did
the touching. The pleasure that they can give you is considerable.
She moved a
little lower, spreading the stirrups wider, allowing her to get
between my legs. A cool spray was felt on my groin, then nothing. She
took a very realistic vulva and laid it over my groin, marking where
the edges came, and checking for its fit. She manipulated my male
appendages then secured my penis into the sheath of the cache sex.
The numbing spray canceled out most feeling, but I could still feel
when my penis was touched and when she pushed my testicles back into
my body. I started to make a comment, but she asked me to remain
still, and she would explain.
For a male to
experience being a female, it is better when the prominent symbol of
that maleness is taken away. You are no longer a male, of the
superior sex, now you are just a female, a toy for the macho male, a
slave to dresses and makeup, and a nurturing mother to children. At
least that is the thinking of a majority of males. You will find out
that you now have far more power, influence, and clout than when you
were a male. This is a secret learned by females, and if you were to
choose to go back to being a male, we would have to kill you or
neutralize your new found knowledge.
She broke out in
giggles, then ran one of my fingers over the vulva lips, then after a
liberal amount of lube was placed on my finger she it slid into my
new orifice. I gasped at the feeling that I was receiving, little
waves of pleasure starting to move through my body. I received a hug
and cheek kiss; her work is done. She did ask if I wanted a little
quiet time to contemplate my new toy, but I declined. I am sure Dawn
would be eager to try out the new equipment. As she picked up her
tools and glue she asked me to try out the tits. With a questioning
look on my face, she picked up one of my hands, placed two fingers on
the nipple and told me to squeeze. I did, and I came right there on
the table. My new female sex still twitching convulsively because of
the nipple stimulation.
With red blushes
and extreme embarrassment, I tried to blend into the top of the
table. Janey was laughing out loud, then reached under the table into
one of the drawers and removed a tampon. From Dawn using them I was
familiar with their purpose, but to my horror, Janey removed the
paper wrapper and inserted it in my new vulva. Another sharp intake
of breath as she whispered in my ear that this is another reason for
their use, your ejaculation will leak out over the next few hours
unless you plug it up. You should get in the habit of changing them
every three to four hours, and then a shower or bath tonight will
take care of any leftover fluids. I did get a hug as she left the
room, apparently now a member in good standing of the female sex
since my orgasm.
I was able to
look at my reflection in the wall mirror at the end of the table, and
there for all to see was the telltale string of a tampon right
between my new lips. The blushes came again, just a few moments ago,
I had become a female, and now I had already started using tampons.
That for a female was maybe not a big deal, but a former male needing
such a female item seemed impossible.
Janey was
replaced by Katrina. She is the makeup expert, but also does hair. My
hair is shampooed, conditioned and set in curlers. A bonnet hair
dryer is slipped over my head of curlers as I was situated in her
chair. A huge case of cosmetics was wheeled over and she started on
my makeup. Since I was a newbie to all of this she was going to use
stains and other semi-permanent cosmetics instead of regular makeup.
That way I would have time to learn to do it myself, and still look
feminine all the time. I didn’t think of the implications that
would have on me at the time it was being done.
She took her time
applying each item carefully, making sure of its proper position on
my face. Since I was laying back I could not see much of my face, the
few glimpses already very feminine looking. The sound and the heat of
the hair dryer was doing a number on me, my eyes slowly closing as I
drifted off to sleep. I guess it was a smart move on her part to do
my eyes first, since with them closed it would be difficult to apply
the necessary cosmetics.
When the dryer
shut off, I woke up instantly tasting the lipstick on my lips. She
slid off the hair dryer, then set the chair up some. The image in the
mirror made quite an impression on me, there was no male persona
left, a cute attractive female the only image in the mirror. She
brushed out my hair, no fancy style just a regular curly female look.
I took in a deep breath, what the others had been telling me suddenly
quite real. I was no longer a male, anybody looking at me or
interacting with me would only see a female. Ms. Kelly Killian now
just about as real as you can get.
Since I now had
the female body, I was handed a robe, then taken to their clothing
store next door. Two hours later I had way too big of a wardrobe, at
least in my opinion. The lingerie was fantastic, if only it was on
Dawn. Once I had tried on several sets of lingerie we moved on to
dresses, blouses and skirts. According to my sales lady I was a
natural, just the perfect size for the latest fashions, with most any
style of women’s clothing looking good on my body. I did notice I
was not offered any pants, I did mention the fact to her, but she
showed me on my information card that I was to receive no pants of
any kind. A requirement of Francine. I briefly wondered about our
hiking on the weekends, a skirt or dress might hinder my
participation quite a bit.
Back to the salon
portion of the business so my nails could be worked on next, Ginger
the tech to do so. Extensions were added my nails now extending past
my fingertip by almost an inch. Many coats of nail polish were
applied, the finished color a rich deep red. I was informed that it
was their special polish, requiring a visit to the salon to remove it
or change the color.
That concluded
the services for today, tomorrow would be classes in acting like the
cute female I now looked like. Voice modification if necessary would
be handled along with proper deportment for a female.
Of course, Dawn
showed up at that very moment, looked around the salon then took off
running towards me. I was engulfed in a huge hug, as she tried to
squeeze the stuffing out of me. I was dragged out of the salon, with
her arranging for my wardrobe to be delivered to out house tomorrow.
I won’t say she broke any speeding limits on the way home, but made
the trip in half the time it took me to get to the salon this
morning. Dragged out of the car and into the house, right to our
bedroom and stripped out of my clothes. Pushed back on to the bed and
pounced on immediately. I was kissed, titties massaged and my new
slit fingered till I was a smoldering mess. This continued for most
of the night as I pleaded with her to stop. She ignored me, I must
have come numerous times not remembering how many or any detail about
the orgasms. I knew I was leaking from my new female sex, at times my
legs wet all the way to my knees.
Then she had the
audacity to push me out of bed the next morning, so that she could
take me to my salon appointment. My car still at the salon from
yesterday. I did make it through my lessons for the day, my voice
altered till it sounded so feminine, and told it is now my voice for
the upcoming years. So much for this being a trial period, breasts,
vagina, makeup and now my voice. I did make it home, eventually
dragging my tired stressed out body to the bed. I was asleep in
minutes not remembering if I even managed to get undressed.
Dawn did find me,
deciding to continue her assault on my body, a pleasant way to unwind
from a hectic day. I woke during another Dawn caused orgasm, opened
my eyes briefly then moaned and tried to roll away from her. No suck
luck, three hours later I was soaked again, my mind pure mush from
all the stimulation. I never came so much in my entire life, lucky to
be able to do so once a week in the past.
I never did see
another piece of male clothing, everything female in my closet mostly
dresses and skirts. I guess the lesbian excuse is the one we will use
if asked since I now looked the part.
Mom made the trip
a couple of weeks later, wedding dresses on her agenda. Three days
later and visits to every dress shop within hundreds of miles she
found the one I was going to wear at my wedding. Not my first choice,
a flouncy dress with huge skirt, a plunging bodice, and yards and
yards of lace trim. I complained, but was totally ignored. Dawn loved
it when she was shown pictures of me in the dress. The fact that I
had to wear a corset to get into the dress an added plus as far as
she was concerned.
© 2016 thru
2024 by Francesca