Kelly; Ms. For Sure

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 A.M., but Dawn is at her first customer when they open, somewhere around eight A.M. That necessitates her getting up at six A.M. so that she can dress 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 started on dinner and 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 don’ts. 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 concerned.

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, and 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 décor 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 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.

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.

Story Incomplete At Present

© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker

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