The plane was taxiing up to the gate, finally after three hours of flight, I am here at beautiful Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix. Departing travelers are getting their luggage from the overhead and gathering their belongings waiting to depart. Everyone would make a mad dash to the gate to meet their loved ones or relatives, but since Cynthia had already told me that she would be a few minutes late, I could wait back and avoid the stampede to the gate. Since this was also the third leg of my flight from Hong Kong, I was more than ready to end this very long and boring trip. I changed planes in Tokyo, and Honolulu with the final leg of the flight from there.
Cynthia’s phone call last night had made me drop everything and head to Scottsdale to see what we can come up with to salvage the school. In fact, I did not even pack a suitcase, just headed to the airport and grabbed the first plane out of Hong Kong.
The Fashion show is in four weeks, and two weeks after that enrollment starts for the next class in modeling. Usually by this time we have several inquiries about our school and several already signed up, but with all of the new competition springing up, we have had no one signing up and only a few inquiries. Our competition has hired several well-known models that are not modeling anymore for some of their instructors, and that has stolen a lot of our credibility as a top modeling school.
Prospective students associate a popular model with a top rated school; the one with the most well-known models usually draws the most students. Our instructors are top notch, but the more famous models in the other schools have stolen a little of our thunder. Unless we can make our presence known at the Biltmore Square Fashion Show this year, we will likely just fade away.
Since Mother had started the modeling school some fifteen years ago, the fashion show has been the high point of each graduating class. Now with several more modeling schools as competition in our area, that tradition seems to be in jeopardy, thus the reason for Cynthia’s phone call last night.
Mother had started the school when Phoenix and its suburb Scottsdale were just coming into their own. The higher income families were moving into the area, and lots of their daughters wanted to become models. Mother supplied the training, hair and cosmetic skills plus contacts to some of the most prestigious modeling agencies in the country.
Consequently, many models had their start at our school. Now all of that was in jeopardy. Our school used to be the only one to furnish models for the Biltmore Square Fashion show, but with more competition, now three schools are furnishing models for this show. The show sponsors have enlarged the show featuring fashions from four Paris couture houses and seating for this show now numbers several thousand attendees, but the fact that we used to be the only school to furnish models and now only one of three is disappointing, but understandable.
Cynthia has some good potential models in training but no one really outstanding and hence the problem. I scanned the pictures that Cynthia had emailed me of the students that we could use as potential models for the upcoming show.
The modeling school that places the most students into modeling careers gets the bragging rights and the most new students. The Biltmore show is widely attended by some of the top modeling agencies, with several new models discovered there each year.
Cynthia has been able to hold her own the last few years, but enrollment has slowly been dwindling. Without a lot of top quality prospects, this might be the end of the modeling school that Mother had started. She has done well keeping the school financially above water, but the last few months she has barely squeaked by.
Cynthia and I inherited the school when Mother passed away two years ago. Mother had made sure that we went through all of the model training ourselves, but Cynthia, having finished college and being three years older than me, was left to run the school. I was still trying to finish college, needing three semesters to get my Master’s degree in marketing.
I had decided to try to get my marketing degree abroad, and that is why I am returning to Phoenix from Hong Kong. Since China is the center of most business activity these days, I was hoping that a degree from a school in the midst of this activity would get me a leg up on job prospects.
After most of the passengers had departed, I get up to exit the plane, gathering up my laptop case and jacket as I made my way towards the exit. As I head down the ramp, I see Cynthia entering the concourse. She waves at me and gives me a big hug as we meet just past the gate entrance. She is dressed in a light tan business suit with a hobble skirt and a most attractive scarf used inside her jacket.
As always she is the epitome of a well-dressed business woman. I, on the other hand, am wearing jeans and a burgundy hoodie. A couple of years in the Orient has affected my style in clothes and not for the better, I am afraid.
“I really missed you, Toni.” With that greeting, I am enveloped in a hug and kisses. We have always been very affectionate with each other since Mother always encouraged the showing of emotion with us. I whisper in her ear of how much I missed her, and that things are going to work out. She holds the embrace for several minutes, and then we walk hand in hand through the terminal.
I can tell that Cynthia is really worried about this for she is never this quiet. She has always been an outgoing, very forward person that can charm the pants off of almost anyone she meets. She also chews her lower lip when things are troubling her, and I can tell that things are troubling her. I touch her lower lip like Mother used to do to her, and she looks my way and smiles.
I told her that I had looked at the pictures of the possible models, several having possibilities, but no one is outstanding. She just shrugs, and I can see a couple of tears slide down her cheek. “What can we do Toni?” Since that is the reason I flew half way around the world, I suggest that we find a quiet restaurant where we can talk and go through all the possibilities. This was a favorite technique of Mother’s when she had problems, and I hope it will work for me.
Cynthia drove us to a little Mexican restaurant right on the border of Tempe and Scottsdale. Manuel’s Hideaway was always a favorite of ours, and we would often sneak away from modeling school to partake of their food. It is a favorite hangout of Arizona State University students, and their prices are quite reasonable. They have some private booths, and after being seated, we ordered some tacos and enchiladas.
We talked about the situation and what some of the prospective students are saying. It seems that the former top models that are working for the other schools have a draw and have made those schools seem to be a step ahead of us. The prospective students are thinking that these models are graduates of these schools leading them to think that if they pick that school, it will ensure a modeling career.
Several of their instructors are graduates of our school, with Mother helping them to become models. Our only draw has been the reputation of our school, and the fact that we have not had any recent top models graduate from the school has hurt that reputation.
I set up my laptop and started making a list of what we might do and how we could accomplish it. I listed all of the things that we needed to happen to assure a successful show for us and get a bigger share of the modeling business. What it boiled down to was finding a model that could get a contract with one of the top agencies.
Thus a few bragging rights and more young ladies wanting to enroll in our modeling school. Our teachers are the best in the field but since we have not any recent successes we had nothing attracting new students to our school.
We went over each of Cynthia’s present students and evaluated each of them for their potential. Her present students lacked being photogenic, a necessity in the modeling business. Several were very beautiful but a little too well-endowed to carry off the waif look of a top model.
As we discussed different possibilities while we were munching on our food, I could see that Cynthia is getting more depressed by the minute. I knew she was blaming herself for the lack of the success of the school and is really desperate to turn things around somehow. After several minutes of quiet, as no new ideas surfaced, I suggested that she call Babs to see if she had any inspirations.
Babs was a lifelong friend of Mothers and had sort of adopted us into her family. She had worked for several of the top modeling agencies in her career and knew the business well. She was instrumental in signing six of the current top models in the business. With her move to Scottsdale several years ago, she quite often visits both our school and our competitions. She is semi-retired now, but still has all the connections needed to evaluate and sign new models. Just last year she discovered a new model, getting him a quite lucrative contract with a top modeling agency.
Her business is modeling and has always been so. She visits most of the larger modeling schools across the country several times a year, looking for new prospects and talent. Babs had visited just a month ago, spending a couple of days with our instructors and Cynthia. She never outright spies on the other schools for us, but sometimes she makes little hints on things we need to be doing without being specific on what she has seen or heard. I am sure she helps the other schools a little too when she feels it necessary.
Cynthia was able to get her on her cell phone and after a little chit- chat Babs invited us over to her condo for drinks. We settled up at the restaurant and headed over to her condo, about a thirty-minute drive in Scottsdale traffic. Babs lived in a suburb of Scottsdale in a gated community. To say that this is a very expensive neighborhood would be an understatement. The condos sold for about a quarter million dollars apiece the last time I heard prices quoted.
We checked in at the gate and after the guard checked her list of visitors we are allowed to pass into the complex. As we pulled up to her condo, Babs is waiting for us at the door. She gave both Cynthia and me big hugs whispering in my ear that it is sure good seeing me again. Her comment to Cynthia is I see you had to get Toni out of school to help.
Both of us looked at her wondering what she meant. It turns out that she knew how the school is doing and knew that the upcoming Fashion show would decide our future. Cynthia told her that she was worried that we would lose most of our remaining students and eventually the business. Since she is managing the business, she blamed herself for the situation we are in.
So Babs asks what we have decided to do to help get back our business. That question surprised me since that is what we came over to ask her. She just smiled and asked what we had come up with so far. I ran over my list that we had talked about in the restaurant and our opinions on each of the choices. She listened and made no comment on any of our opinions or choices.
Babs commented on my using Mother’s technique for solving problems but told me that I had forgotten one very important option that I had not even considered. I had evaluated all of our students but had forgotten the one with the most obvious talents and looks. That person had completed all of the modeling classes and training and is considered by many to be a top prospect. Both Cynthia and I are at a loss to figure out who we could have missed especially if this individual is such an obvious choice.
Babs shook her head, then got up and went to her bedroom telling us that she now needed to show us something. A few minutes later she returned with a well-worn notebook, that I recognized as one of Mothers, that she used to write down observations, ideas, and things that needed to be done. It was her way of keeping focused and following up when necessary.
As Babs opened the notebook up to a selected page, she told us what our Mother had said when she gave the notebook to her a week or two before her death. She had told Babs to give us free rein to do what we thought would work until we stumbled. If Cynthia and I did not pursue what Mother had seen as our best chance of keeping the business going, Babs is to steer us onto the right path.
Babs asked what if you had another student that had tremendous potential that could land a contract and bring interest to your school, would you utilize this person. I responded in the affirmative but asked who this individual is since we had just gone through all of the possibilities. Since we were there asking for help, now was the time to let us read our Mother’s own words on the best choice of the student to help and the course of action to take to ensure success.
She handed the book to me and pointed to some scribblings that were written about three years ago. Get Toni to see his full potential and not waste his future in school. He is a natural and will easily become one of the top-ranked models in the country, no in the world. His features and movements are unmistakably feminine, and he should model as a woman.
If he admits the truth to himself, he will discover that he is a woman except for one small appendage. I am stunned and reread those words several times. Cynthia grabbed the book so she could read the passage since I am not telling her what it said. When she finished, she set the book down and looked at Babs for confirmation, for any comment or opinion as to what Mother had written.
Babs told us that Caroline was an excellent judge of ability and looks, knowing at an early age that I was destined to be a successful model. When I went through the classes with Cynthia both of them would talk about my natural instincts, my posture, and my appearance. Babs hesitated and then flipped the page and on this page was four pictures of me when I was taking the classes, each picture taken during the different classes and suddenly I remembered the looks that I got from the girls in the class.
I was able to apply the makeup quickly and with hardly any effort and seldom had to take off and reapply. My walk was almost a perfect model walk even the first time I attempted it, and I usually looked better in women’s clothes than most of the other girls. Her only comment was yes, Toni is a natural for a model. Babs looked over to me to see if I was going to say anything but too many very different thoughts and feelings were racing through my mind at the moment.
Although I did not hear Babs offer, both she and Cynthia got up to get drinks, and I only became aware of things when a Vodka Collins was put in my hand some twenty minutes later. I sat there sipping my drink with both females staring at me. I finally regained a somewhat normal thought process and asked Babs if she thought I could really pull it off.
Babs looked over to Cynthia and asked her what she thought. “Toni you were always more girl than most of the young women in the class including me. The fact that you were better than all of us in the classes having no trouble with movements, makeup and hair just shows without a doubt how much of a natural woman you are.” Babs just smiled and added, “Without a doubt.” The two invigorated females are already making plans, but my brain is still back at square one. Could Mother be right?
When in modeling training, I indeed, had very little trouble mastering any of the skills needed as a model, and that was part of the problem. I liked it too much for a normal male, and now it is being suggested that I totally embrace the female role. Could I or would I be able to keep from totally immersing myself in the role?
Like several male models that are modeling female clothes, it is not something that you can just turn off when desired. Being a female model almost required living the role twenty-four seven. Plucked eyebrows, a hairless body, longer hair, longer nails are not easily reversed to fit the mood.
At school, I had totally forgotten about the model training and had filed all of those experiences and emotions away in the very back of my mind. More importantly, what would happen to Toni? I could already see Toni slipping away in a sea of femininity. I shook my head several times as if to gain some reality and sense back into it, but things stayed the same.
Babs after seeing that I am still lost suggested that I take the evening to think about it. She said that your Mother made countless observations about you as you went through model training and all of them add to the same conclusion and in this set of circumstances the solution to your problems is pretty straightforward.
You can turn your back on all of this but you will be haunted by what might have happened if you went through it, or you can enjoy a side of life you have been fascinated with since you were a young child. The best approach is to embrace Antoinette and see where that will lead you. You have denied yourself this part of your life for too long, and you need to face reality, plus it will turn your school around and keep it going.
Cynthia said lets head home; “we have lots to talk about, and we need to see if my clothes are going to fit you or not.” Several giggles followed that statement as we rose, heading to the door, my mind filled with what we had learned from Babs.
Babs asked for me to call her in the morning and let her know my decision. “I have access to a lot of services that you may want to avail yourself and several people that you need to meet.” Hugs were exchanged all around but as Babs hugged me she was obviously prolonging it. I even got a cheek kiss from her as we left.
It seemed to take forever to get to Cynthia’s house, actually Mothers old house that she left to us. The whole trip I just stared out the window. Mother lived in the older portion of Scottsdale near the Biltmore Square, in the shadow of Camelback Mountain. After she parked in the garage and closed the door, she opened her door but did not get out.
“You are scared you will not be able to return to Toni aren’t you? In my mind, you have always been Antoinette since we were young children. In fact, Mother and I always called you Antoinette when you were not around and sometimes even if you were there.” I burst out in tears, and a few minutes later Cynthia is leading me into the house and up the stairs to my bedroom.
She helped me get undressed and took delight in finding me one of her most feminine nighties to wear along with a pair of bikini panties. She got comfortable in her nightie, and we snuggled like we used to do until I drifted off to sleep.
Later after suddenly waking up, Cynthia is still in my bed, but since she is such a sound sleeper, it was easy to extricate myself. I thought about Mother’s scribblings as I sat in the living room looking out the picture window to a beautiful starry night. Babs is right Mother was an excellent judge of ability and picked many students out to succeed as models.
To my knowledge, she was never wrong in her choices. Why was she so sure that I should turn my back on manhood and embrace femininity, I could not get my head around that concept. To be working as a model, a female model just made it more unbelievable.
Cynthia rubbing my shoulders brought my thoughts back to the present, and I leaned back against her and grabbed her hands in mine. I turned and hugged her and for a minute, all seemed well. I told Cynthia that I had really missed her. “Being away at school was lonely and empty, it is like some part of me is missing and being back with you somehow makes me a little more complete.”
Since we were both awake, we adjourned to the kitchen to get some coffee and toast. Halfway there I looked down and noticed I was wearing a very frilly nightie and stopped in my tracks. Cynthia ran into me since she was right behind me but just grabbed my hand and dragged me the rest of the way. I made the coffee while Cynthia was in charge of the toast. A few minutes later we sat at the serving bar in the kitchen and started talking things out.
She wanted to know what I thought and if I am going to switch teams, as she put it. “I am leaning that way but to be truthful I am scared to death, one that I would be able to do it and two if I did it, would it affect how I lived my life.”
Cynthia took her time and seemed to be planning what she was going to say. This is a first for Cynthia, who usually responds and then thinks about what she has said. “I think you will be able to do it without any problems. Reading Mothers comments has made me sure that you will have great success as a model. She was always a keen judge of ability and beauty.”
“With regards to how it would affect your life, I think you have a side of your life you have never allowed yourself to experience, and I believe it is the real you, not the fake facade that you present to everybody today. When we were taking the modeling classes a glimpse of this side of your life would materialize every once in a while, but you always pushed it back as if it was never a part of you.”
“Being truthful to yourself, you do have to admit that some of our most remembered moments and memories were when Antoinette was present.” I was quiet for a few minutes, and then I gave her a hug and asked her if she had any clothes worthy of a supermodel. She clobbered me on the shoulder and raced me to her bedroom. I was close behind and for a minute am reminded of how we used to interact with each other.
Just like sisters more often than not, but still showing each other the love we have for each other. Cynthia headed for her dresser first and dug back in the bottom drawer till she found what she was looking for. To say that I was surprised is an understatement. It is the bra and panty set that I wore when studying clothing and accessories in a modeling class.
The female students had gotten me this set when they complained to Mother how was I going to learn these things when I didn’t have to dress like a female. Mother conceded to their point and the next day the girls presented me with the set. I was embarrassed and turned all shades of red and when I hesitated to put it on they suggested that they could help in that regards.
With that encouragement, I went to the bathroom and changed into the set and when I started to put on my regular male clothes the door opened, and they shoved a dress at me and grabbed my male pants. I was stuck and after sitting there for a while decided that I had no choice but to put on the dress. I reluctantly left the bathroom and was attacked by the girls giving me pointers on wearing the dress and hugs too.
I think it started out as a joke since I was the only male student but quickly became the birth of the female version of me. For several weeks to come, my name was changed to Antoinette, and I was just another female in the modeling class. Cynthia had loaned me some of her clothes for those classes, and I guess I fit in better than I thought since I was treated as if I am a girl for the remaining studies.
Mother never had any male modeling students and never covered any parts of being a model that might apply to the male side of the fence. Hence, I was just included in the female modeling classes as one of the girls.
“I can see that you will not need as much padding as you once used since you have a really nice set of developing breasts.” I turned several shades of red and told her that they just started growing a couple of months ago. I should see a doctor about them but just didn’t have the time. I slipped my arms into the bra and Cynthia did up the clasp in the back. She helped me adjust the straps, and I did have small breasts after all is fastened up since the bra had some push-up pads sewn into the bottom of the cups.
With the bra and panty set on Cynthia is laying out one dress after another for me to try on to see if it fit. The problem soon became apparent that all of Cynthia’s clothes were a perfect fit on my less than masculine body. For three hours, we tried clothes on till Cynthia found what she described as my perfect outfit for today.
It was an LBD that hugged my every curve including some that were not apparent in my male mode. It had a scoop neckline and a fitted skirt that hugged my body. The skirt came only to mid-thigh but hugged my thighs tightly making my walk definitely not that of a male. Pearls were the needed accessories to make the outfit come together, a necklace, drop earrings, and a bracelet being the combination used. Cynthia pointed me to her vanity for me to make the final changes to change genders.
Since I had very little facial hair, the makeup is easy. I applied only the basic makeup consisting of foundation, blusher, mascara, and lipstick. To my astonishment, the image looking back from her mirror was not that of her brother, but her sister. Surprisingly I had no trouble with the makeup applying it like I had been doing it my entire life. The actions were automatic, and I was not having to think what I am doing. Cynthia helped me secure my hair in a high ponytail to complete the look.
In the meantime, she had found an outfit that is appropriate for a director of a modeling school for her to wear. A light pink suit with a maroon long sleeve blouse with pearl buttons. At eight-thirty, we headed to her car and started toward the school. I called Babs on her cell phone and asked her when I could get with her to advise her of my plans.
Of course, she wanted to know on the phone of what I had decided and how I am dressed today. I told her she would have to wait until we met to find out, and she then asked us to have lunch with her and one of her business colleagues on Fifth Avenue about one-thirty. I agreed, but Cynthia had another appointment about that time and would not be able to make it. Babs tried to get little hints about my decision by sneakily asking questions about what I was going to do today and if I needed to go shopping for clothes.
I told her that I am planning on doing nothing today and that on my last visit I had left several jeans and shirts here, so I had something to wear for a day or two. We finally said our goodbyes, and I turned to Cynthia and promised her a slow and painful death if she hinted anything to Babs when she called back. I knew Babs well, and she would call Cynthia the first opportunity she got to find out any info she might be able to pry out of her.
We arrived a few minutes before nine and everybody was busy with their classes already since our teachers were always anxious to get to today’s material. Yvonne, one of our most loyal teachers, came running over to me, and I got the biggest hug I had received in many years. She wanted to know what Antoinette was doing here and if I wanted to teach a class or two today. I looked over at Cynthia, but she just shrugged her shoulders, telling me it is my option.
I told Yvonne I was in town for a while to help out, and I would be glad to help out later in the morning. Cynthia and I headed back to her office with her closing the door behind us. “How do you want to handle this sis?” Since most of her current students had never seen Toni, much less Antoinette we decided just to introduce me as Antoinette, a former student, returned to take more advanced classes.
This is something that has happened in the past and so would not be too hard to believe. At morning break, all of the teachers came into the office, and we introduced me to everyone that I had not met and told everybody that I would be attending for a while to polish my skills and help with the Biltmore Square Fashion Show. Yvonne was all smiles from ear to ear. She is appraising my looks and had watched me walk up to the front when Cynthia had introduced me.
Yvonne, Suzanne and Julie stayed behind at Cynthia’s request, and we asked everyone what they thought. These three teachers had been with the school for many years and had even taught Cynthia and me when we went through the modeling classes. Suddenly the light came on as Julie and Suzanne finally made all of the connections. They were very complimentary and wanted to know everything.
It was explained that I am back to help with the Biltmore show and to do what I could to salvage the school’s reputation and business. Since I never had been part of management at the school, I am technically still a student at the school and eligible to model at the show. I told them I needed to get into the swing of everything again and needed to practice my skills. Yvonne assured me I needed no practice since, in her opinion, my presentation is nearly flawless. I assured her that my nerves though are in desperate need of reassurance.
After the morning break, I helped Yvonne teach a refresher class in deportment that we taught every few weeks to make the walk and moves automatic rather than an action that had to be thought about. When not involved with some of the students I practiced my walk and movements knowing it has been a while since I used these skills.
Surprisingly they came back to me quickly, and quite often I noticed that I had a gallery watching from the sidelines. I tried to stay focused though and walked back and forth for over two hours. The need to use the bathroom became apparent, and that is another experience revisited. It did take longer than usual to perform the deed since there are several clothes that I am not used to wearing that had to be removed and then readjusted.
After I freshened my lipstick and fixed my hair, brushing it and redoing the ponytail with a red and black ribbon scrunchie, I decided I needed to head up to Fifth Ave for my lunch with Babs. It is only a couple of blocks and the heels that Cynthia had loaned me were quite comfortable, so I decided to walk there. I gave Cynthia a hug and told her where I am going. I stopped by the office to grab my purse, a habit that I had never been accustomed to, but a necessity since the dress has no pockets. I checked my image in the mirror; a modeling school has lots of mirrors, and not seeing anything alarming left for the restaurant.
It was a typical early fall day with temperatures in the seventies and a light breeze coming from the north. I was over half way there before I became aware of quite a few looks in my direction. I panicked for a minute until I realized that they just appreciated a nice looking woman. I knew that would be one of my troublesome problems to overcome. I just did not see myself as a beautiful woman, in fact, I am still having a difficulty seeing myself as a woman, period.
The two blocks were quickly covered, and I arrived at the restaurant about one-twenty. I was sure Babs and her business associate are already there since she has always been early for anything she did. The door to the restaurant is held open for me as I approached and the Maitre’d is there immediately to help me.
I told him that I was here to meet a couple of ladies, but before I could finish the sentence he is leading me to the back dining room and I then saw Babs with that smile of hers glaring at me from a table in the corner looking out over a city park. I approached the table, and a waiter was waiting to pull out my chair. The Maitre’d told Babs that she is right, the most beautiful woman in Scottsdale would be joining them.
I, of course, was very red in the face, but managed to smooth my skirt and was seated. Babs immediately introduced me to her friend, a Susan Carver from back east. We shook hands and glanced at our menus, then ordering our drinks and salads. After the waiter took our order and headed to the kitchen, Babs said that it is apparent about my decision, and she was sure that I had made the right one. “I am not so sure, but I will try it for a few days.”
Susan is watching and listening but apparently Babs had not informed her of my circumstances. Finally, Babs asked Susan what she thought. I waited to hear this exchange since I was sure that Susan had seen through my costume and is just being polite. Susan said that she would sign me to a contract in a heartbeat if I would be willing.
My mouth stayed open, and finally, Babs touched my face like Mother had done to Cynthia many times and I smiled and managed to close that facial appendage. Apparently Susan is from a modeling agency and Babs was trying to convince me that this is a viable option for me. Babs said, “The contract would have to wait till the Biltmore show since I am her agent and other offers might be forthcoming after the show.”
Again my mouth is open, and Babs again touched my lips to secure the closing of the offending appendage. Babs started telling her about my training, my skill level and my lack of modeling jobs since I had decided to pursue college. Susan saw no problem with lack of previous experience since she was positive that I would acquire a lot of on the job training. As for my training and skill level, she confirmed that it was more than adequate.
“The most positive thing that Antoinette has going for her is her looks. That is her strong point and that more than compensates for any perceived shortfalls.” I was surprisingly quiet through all of this, but I wanted to be sure that Babs had told her of my correct gender. I was not going to do modeling under false pretenses. Susan saw my puzzled, questioning look towards Babs.
I started to ask Babs if all persons were aware of my true gender but Susan told me that she knew, “it will have no bearing on any job offers or contracts. Her clients want the look, the movements, and the beauty of the model not caring about anything else.”
I kind of zoned out as Susan and Babs talked about contracts and possible companies that I might possibly work for. There was just too much information to process and even some doubt on how to handle some of these developments. Susan had to leave for another appointment so when she finished her salad she excused herself, but giving me a hug and cheek kisses before she left. She also handed me a card and told me to contact her if I had any questions or needs. I just smiled at Babs and told Susan that my agent would handle any and all inquiries.
After Susan had left Babs removed a contract from her portfolio and slid it across the table towards me, speaking of contracts I need to get your signature so I can officially become your agent. I kidded Babs asking her if this was the best deal or did I need to check around to see if I could find a better deal. She started to respond before she looked to see that I had already signed and was sliding it over to her. She stated that her fee was only five percent and that the contract was only for four years duration. After looking at my signature to make sure that I had signed my correct name she told me some of the details.
You will be working under the name of Antoinette le Mode’le, and that is how you should set up your financial accounts.” I thought she was rushing things a little, but she assured me that I would have contracts very soon and income starting next week. She became very much business oriented advising me of where to set up checking and savings accounts, and where I had to go to get a name change approved.
It was her concern with the amount of money I would be pulling in that I needed everything legal and above board. She advised that Cynthia and I needed to make the modeling school part of a corporation so that it would be protected from any dealings that occurred from my modeling career. I asked her if she had anybody that could help and she rattled off several names, and I just advised her to handle everything and to consult Cynthia concerning the school.
We next talked about any help that I would need in getting ready for my debut. I am sure she had a list ready for me, and I just told her to tell me when I was to be at a certain appointment and what it was for, and I would be there. I was too overwhelmed to be able to handle anything on my own and just wanted to be told where to go and what needed to be done. She smiled knowing that I trusted her explicitly. I confided in her that I was still having problems handling this mentally and that I did not need the added pressure of fussing over the details.
“I trust your judgment, and if I am going to do this, I need to do it right.”
“Your list includes a major makeover, hair styling including coloring, breast enlargement and liposuction on hips and waist to enhance your figure, with corset training for several weeks. Several extended shopping trips for clothes and lots of exposure to both the public and agents. Your first modeling appearance is next weekend which allows you to handle most of my list before you need to model.”
It is a charity show for breast cancer awareness, and you will be the only model there. Lingerie, swimsuits, evening gowns, business wear, and a wedding dress are part of the clothes you will be modeling. I could see that Babs was her usual thorough self and asked her when I would start. She startled me by saying “you have a doctor’s appointment in an hour. You will be in his office for three hours, and Cynthia or I will pick you up at five P.M.”
I did manage to close my mouth this time without being told, but my head was spinning. Babs comforted my hand and told me total immersion was best and that everything was reversible if I ever wanted to change back. “The time is short to get this all handled before the Biltmore show, and there will be several long days and lots of practice before the show if you want to assure yourself and Cynthia of success.”
I informed her that I had walked to the restaurant and that I had to go back to the school to get a car. Babs told me she would take me to the doctor and introduce me. She informed me the doctor was the best in this field and the top rated physician in liposuction. The techniques and procedures used were state of the art and years ahead of any other plastic surgeons.
I asked her if this was really necessary, it seemed to be a little over the top. She mentioned that most of the people interested in my modeling were wanting me to be able to model lingerie or swimsuits, and that is a problem while using corsets for waist control. I conceded her point but was very apprehensive thinking about having a much smaller waist of my own that could not be concealed or covered up easily.
We settled up at the restaurant and headed to the doctor’s office. I asked her if the incisions would heal up fast enough for me to be able to model in a few days. She assured me that this technique was almost undetectable with the incisions on my sides just above my hips.
We arrived about twenty minutes later and then to say that the office was plush was an understatement. Obviously, this doctor is doing quite well. Babs checked with the receptionist, and we were called back within minutes. I was impressed since I had always had to wait for at least thirty minutes at any other doctor’s office.
Nowadays it seemed to be an unwritten rule that you had to wait to see any doctor. The nurse took my blood pressure and a blood sample and then asked me to undress and slip on the furnished gown. When I looked at the gown I glanced over at Babs and frowned. It was a bright pink and loaded with lace and frills. She smiled and told me it was perfect for my new persona. About ten minutes later the doctor came in and introduced herself. She was a very attractive woman in her thirties and had a terrific figure.
Babs introduced me and she started her examination. A professional examination going over every part of my body. After a couple of minutes she asked me to remove my gown and then she proceeded to cover the areas covered by that garment. Extra attention was paid to my chest and the surrounding area. She asked if I was taking female hormones or any other medications. I replied in the negative and feeling guilty I told her that I did not know why they were growing but I have done nothing to cause their growth.
She wanted to know when the growth had started and if the growth had been steady or if there was an initial growth spurt. I told her it was more of a slow steady growth. She told me that she needed to squeeze my nipples to see how sensitive they were. I replied that they were very sensitive to touch, and in the morning seemed very puffy and sore. Babs was smiling through all of this and I made a note to myself to ask her after the doctor had finished.
The doctor finished her examination and started telling me about the procedure she will perform on me. She will enter through my sides and suck up the excess fat and then later reintroduce it to my hips. It will be necessary to wear a body shaper, corset to the majority of readers, to maintain my new slender waist and keep the fat in the right spots until it is absorbed back into my body.
In several days I would be able to appear naked with no ill effects. I told her that I just wanted to get it over with and I trusted her and Babs in whatever it would take to make me more presentable as a model. “I am comfortable as a woman once my nerves calmed down, and as you can see I pass fairly well doing so.”
She called for her nurse and I was given a shot as they helped me lay back on the examination table. I heard her and Babs talking about my advanced condition but soon lost consciousness. I dreamed about being a woman and modeling in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. In fact, my dream ended abruptly when the surf came in a little too far and drenched me in the process.
I was lying there staring at the ceiling when the doctor came into the room. I managed to squeak out if she was ready to start. She smiled and then placed my hand on my now suddenly slim waist. Glancing at my waist, I guess she had completed her work for I was now the owner of fairly large hips and a too slender waist, at least to me.
The body briefer was eased up my legs, the nurse helping me get it positioned correctly, she showed me the panel that unhooked so that I could go to the bathroom. They wanted me in the garment for four days straight, then after my next appointment, if all looked good I could stop wearing it. I wondered how much they took out of my waist, but a quick glance in the mirror at my hips and I knew my answer.
Cynthia showed up proclaiming let’s get you dressed and out of here. Cynthia had brought me clean underwear, but I was not too thrilled with her choices, an itsy bitsy light pink thong covered in lace. Next came a light pink t-shirt and a very short almost scandalous pair of shorts. I was handed a pair of sunglasses then slipped my feet into a pair of stilettos with four inch heels. As Cynthia handed me the heels I frowned at her, but she smiled and told me that I had an image to uphold now and regular shoes would not cut it.
The doctor saw me again after I was dressed, gave me some tips for the next few days then brought the discussion to my breasts. She confirmed that my estrogen levels were elevated, I would be going through a female puberty unless the levels recede. She had told Babs about a salon that could help temporarily in obtaining real looking breasts, but assured me that within a year a breast similar in size to my Mother’s is your future. I sighed, Mom was pretty well endowed, I guess that I might be following in her footsteps more than I had envisioned.
Cynthia and I made our way to the car and shortly I was back in our house. I had gradually became more aware of myself and was more alert than just an hour ago. I was not really in any pain but several parts of my body were still somewhat numb. As feeling came back to my body I was definitely aware of my reduced waist.
My slim waist was really a sight to behold. The doctor had managed a ten inch reduction in my waist measurement with the liposuction. I used to have a thirty-six inch waist and now I was twenty-six according to Cynthia. I hadn’t noticed my hips when in the car, but now with some of the feeling returning when I sat on the couch I felt like I was sitting on a pillow.
I felt overwhelmed with the drastic changes to my waist and hips. I knew of the need for a more feminine body, but this is maybe too much. Babs is doing her job well, maybe too good for my comfort zone.
Remember this is how you wanted it to be. Whatever Babs though to be necessary you would agree to. Just make the appointments and you would be there. I remembered my words and lowered my head in shame. I didn’t have what has transpired on my mind when I made that statement. Cynthia told me that we had to go shopping soon, her clothes too big for me now. We need to shop at the better more exclusive stores, with your narrow waist all of your purchases will have to be altered. I will call the people that you will be modeling for this weekend with your new measurements so that they can alter the clothing.
I had lost my appetite, my nerves had been on edge for most of the day, I am fearful of what is coming up, aware that everything hinges on my ability to convince the masses of my beauty and skills. What a thought, a male worried about convincing every one of his feminine beauty. I drifted off to sleep right there on the couch, unaware of Cynthia still talking to me.
I found myself in my bed, not having any idea how I got there. I slipped my hand under the covers to check out my waist, not a dream, it is drastically smaller flaring out into very womanly hips. I stared at the ceiling, finally my need for the bathroom overcame all else. After using it, I made my way to the kitchen, looking for some substance and water. My mouth felt parched, like I had just trekked across a desert. I found some juice and a cut up orange, just what I needed. I set at the breakfast bar munching, trying to get used to sitting on a pillow, my very own pillow. The downside is that the pillow followed me around wherever I went.
Later I found out that my hips had only gained a couple of inches, way less than it felt like. I spent the first day at home, my middle section very sore, like somebody had opened me up and dragged out huge pieces of my body. Silly, that is exactly what happened. The next day I managed the modeling school, but nothing physical. Late in the day I did practice my walk, I quickly got tired but I did persevere.
The next morning I was hustled off to a beauty salon for a day of changes and pampering. Again Babs dropped me off, leaving me no choice but to suffer my fate, since I had no place to go or way to get there. Margie met me at reception and dragged me back to a treatment room. Quickly stripped of my clothes, I was laid on a table and covered in a cream. Thirty minutes on each side, the towel removing any hair that was there. No spot was missed, it did feel very different to be hairless there. My male member trying to shrink back inside my body in embarrassment, his cover now missing.
From there a machine with hoses was wheeled in, two breast like forms were placed on my chest and glued down. They were moderate in size, probably a B cup. Hoses were hooked up to them and the machine was turned on. A slow rhythmic suction started pulling some of my flesh on my chest into the cups. Through a hole in the forms a syringe was inserted and its contents injected inside the forms. The forms heated up, and the suction increased. I laid there, my male persona now gone at least to the casual observer. It is apparent that I will soon have tits, of the right size for modeling, small but perky. At least I hoped they would be small and perky, I desired a modeling career, not a role in naughty porn.
I received a proper feminine haircut. Layered but still long enough to be secured in a ponytail. Then before I could figure out what was going on Margie had my hair in foil, blonde highlights apparently now to be a part of my new look. Time to process, then washed again. Curlers were added, my new hairstyle to feature long curly locks that framed my face.
Story Incomplete At Present
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker