Clara Wilson s Makeover
- 4 years ago
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True Makeover free porn video
True Makeover
Hello Stella and Sandy!
I hope you're ready for this. It turned out kind of long. Sandy, would you please
print this and give a copy to Stella? I'm sure she would like to keep it for posterity.
I knew, when my wife "volunteered" me for this, it would be interesting. After all,
I was in the military where I was "volunteered" for stuff on a continual basis. So I
knew it wouldn't be so bad. What am I talking about? In case you don't remember,
our church ladies group had a "Ladies Night In" tonight. One of the events was a
makeover done by the owner of The Fran Brown School of Cosmetology. She
thought it would be fun to do a guy. Since I am about the skinniest guy in church
(heck, the whole COUNTY!) she picked me. Is God smiling on me, or what?
Anyway, she asked my wife (why ask me, she figured, why not go right to the
top?) and my wife thought it would be fun (thanks, hon).
I'm still waiting for the fun part to kick in . . . . . . .
Well, here's a synopsis of today's and tonight's events. Cori (the beauty school
owner) decided not to tell anyone at church who was going to be made up. She had
me show up at her school at 3:30 today. So I walk in the door and the girl at the
front desk said "you must be Wayne" and said Cori was busy and that I should
come with her. She took me to a room and asked me to remove my pants and put
on a gown she gave me. I asked why (embarrassed) and she told me that Cori
wanted to start with a leg waxing. I tried to explain to her that I thought Cori
wanted to do that at the demonstration, but she just told me that there had been a
change of plans; Cori was only going to do the makeup and hair at the church.
Well, I complied, already starting to figure just how much my wife owed me for
this one. She came in after I had changed and had me lie down on the table and
started spreading the wax on my legs, hands, and lower arms. I'll skip ahead a bit,
since I'm sure you both don't want to hear about the whimpering, yelping, and
outright screaming that followed.
When she was finally finished (she must have just been recently jilted or
something, it seems she ENJOYED inflicting pain on a man) it felt real weird. Like
my legs were hypersensitive to the breeze, etc.. But, as all the hair had just been
ripped from the skin, it is understandable that they WOULD be a tiny bit sensitive.
Well, what could they possibly do next, I thought. I found out as we went into
another area of the school. Apparently, I was about to get my nails done. Stella, can
you believe all this? I'm sure you remember how good I am at saying "no" to
people. Well, I continued that tradition today as I meekly sat down at the chair. The
girl said she had always wanted to do this, and had even tried to get her boyfriend
to try it, but he never did (at least I got to fulfill SOMEONE'S fantasy).
She said Cori had already picked out the length and the polish color for tonight, so
I should just sit back and relax. Right. Relax. I don't know about you ladies, but
do you ever relax while you are getting YOUR nails done? First, they take this
machine and scrape your nails, then they put these things around your nails, plop
this STINKY acrylic stuff into the mold, let it dry and then start scraping and
grinding again. Sure made my hands look interesting, though. When she finally got
them smooth, she started polishing them. As she was finishing, she begged me to
keep them. She said that if I kept them, I could have free "fill-ins" for life (oh
goody!) and she would even polish them whenever I wanted. Although that
sounded like a deal too good to be true, I let her down gently and said they were
coming off tonight. She just smiled.
Finally, Cori came in and apologized for being busy and asked if her girls were
taking care of me (I'll say!). She moved aside the robe, looked at my legs and said
that ever since she saw me in shorts, she has wanted to see my legs like this.
Apparently, I have great legs by the comments I got. She asked me to follow her
into the salon area. I asked her just what would be left to do at church and she told
me to sit down and find out. She moved the back of the chair back so my head was
in a sink. She said it was time to "clean up" my eyebrows. I said something
supposedly humorous about bathing this morning. She just said "nice try."
Well, I got to experience more of my friend, Mr. Wax, on my eyebrows. (about
this time, I'm thinking my wife not only owes me at LEAST a new computer for all
this, I am thinking about what to volunteer HER for!). Well, after more ripping
sounds, and NOT a little plucking, I'm greeted by a slightly different face in the
mirror. My eyebrows (what's left of them) are all puffy and red "Don't worry," she
said, "the swelling will disappear by tonight." Gee, THAT'S comforting. She told
me to take a break and maybe read a magazine. I'm sure you know about how
broad the selection of reading material was. I picked up a Cosmopolitan that had
Heather Locklear on the front. As I started thumbing through it (not an easy task
when you suddenly have claws on the ends of your fingers) I realized just what
some of these women had to go through to look like they do and that I guess I had a
little in common with them now. I know what you guys are thinking. It's about
TIME a man learns how hard it is being a woman and all we go through, etc., etc..
Maybe so, maybe so.
It was about 6:00 when she came and told me it was time to get dressed. I kind of
knew from the smirk what that meant. Sure enough, as I followed her into the
room, I saw a dress hanging there. She explained that due to time constraints, all
she would have time to do tonight is the actual makeup portion of the makeover.
Since nobody knew who was going to be the guinea pig, she thought she would
see how long she could keep it a secret from the other ladies. She showed me how
to put on the hose (not an easy task in nails!) and left while I got into them. She
came back in, put a bra on me (my first WonderBra!) and filled it with some falsies
(my five month-old son, who's breastfeeding, would probably LOVE me now!).
Then came the dress. She zipped it up, had me turn around and shook her head.
"Wayne, you should have been born a woman" she said. I think I blushed for about
the second time in my life.
We went back into the salon and she started putting on this stuff on my face. She
called it contouring and foundation. Then she went into another room and came
back with a wig. She put it on me, styled and sprayed it, stepped back and said it
was missing something. She smiled and said she'd be right back. She came back,
turned me away from the mirror and told me to hold still. I felt something cold on
my ear and jerked away. I said that I had to put my foot down and told her no way
was she going to pierce my ears no matter HOW fast they grow back.
I almost called the whole thing off and walked out, but I caught sight of myself in
the mirror. I didn't see a guy staring back at me and I realized that I'd gone too far
to turn back now. She came back with some clip-ons and some other jewelry and
said it was time to go. I heard her say "one second, Cinderella" as she slipped some
shoes on my feet. They fit. I asked her how she know my dress and shoe size
(especially since I don't HAVE a dress size) and she said my wife measured some
of my clothes. Isn't it nice to have a spouse that cares about the little things?
Yeesh, I just caught myself about to ask if you've ever walked in heels. I will
assume you both have. It was quite a new experience for me. Cori said to stop
complaining since they were only 1 1/2 inches. I said that was about 1 1/2 inches
too much. After some tips from her, I'd actually gotten the hang of it (must be
because I was born in California) we went to church and got everything set up
(well, they did, I'm afraid my nails made me kind of useless). I stayed in a back
room while they got everything started. I was getting nervous (big surprise, eh?) as
I was about to appear in front of the ladies of the church in a dress. The time came,
and Cori led me to the chair, put a smock around my front (didn't cover my legs,
durn it) and they moved the divider that was in front of the chair. No one gasped or
giggled, so I stayed calm. Cori explained that her friend Kathi had graciously
volunteered to be the guinea pig for the demonstration and told them that the
foundation had already been done; all that remained was the makeup.
Well, she started hauling out powders and pencils and stuff all the while
explaining to the ladies what she was doing ("Since Kathi has thin lips, we are
going to use a lip liner pencil to redefine her lips." "Then she'll have those sexy,
kissable lips the guys go nuts over, right Kathi?") I just rolled my eyes and smiled.
She finished with the makeup about 30 minutes later and primped my wig. She
then took some perfume out of her bag and sprayed a little on me. It smelled great. I
wish I could pronounce the name so I could get some for my wife. She took off the
smock and asked me to stand and turn for the audience. The ladies oohed and ahhed
and clapped. To tell you the truth, the recognition felt good. Then I realized that I
was standing there in a dress, makeup, etc. and no one knew it was me!
Unfortunately, that didn't last long. Cori then asked for quiet and said she had
some more to say. She told the ladies how makeup has the power to transform the
ordinary into the extraordinary. She asked them all to remember the difference
between how they looked in the morning and how they looked after they made
themselves up. She talked about how self-image was linked to earthly concerns and
how God had a different view. Then she said she had another surprise. She said
"You all know just what makeup can do and the wonderful power of illusion it
possesses." "I'm here tonight to tell you that it can sometimes be more powerful
than you think." "Kathi, the extremely beautiful young woman you see here
tonight, is a testament to that magic of illusion." "Because Kathi is not really
beautiful, or young, or, . . . a woman! Finally, I got my gasp from the crowd.
"Kathi," she said, " is really Wayne." Silence. Then, Debbie, one of the younger
members of our church, started giggling and clapping. Soon the ladies were coming
by to shake my hand and give me little comments like "You really look gorgeous",
"I wish I looked that good in a miniskirt" and "If you'd like to join the ladies Bible
study, feel free."
I then got to sit down by Cori and listen to the rest of the night's entertainment.
Cori kept giving me tips on how to smooth my skirt and to cross my legs, etc. She
also told me she wanted me to be one of her "Final Exam Guys." Apparently at her
beauty school, the final exam is to see just how beautiful you can make a guy. She
says it is a true test of just how well they've learned their techniques and how well
they can apply them. I told her I'd think about it.
Afterwards, we went out to eat (yes, I was still dressed up). Now I am sitting at
home waiting for my wife to get home from work. She wanted to see me so I had
to keep all of this stuff on. I can't believe how hard it is to type with these nails.
And Cori told me why the girl who did my nails was smirking when I said they
were coming off tonight. Apparently, I will damage my nails if I try to remove them
myself. So, Cori told me to come in Monday morning to have them removed. So I
get to show up for church on Sunday with bright red long nails. Oh well, it's not as
if the whole church won't already know what happened tonight.
Well Stella and Sandy, I didn't think it would be this long, but there was a lot that
happened today. Hope I didn't bore you with all this and I hope you have as much
fun at your banquet as I've had today (smirk). Let me know if you want to know
what happened when we went out to eat. Until next time
Wayne (or should I say Kathi)
So, . . . you want to know what happened the other night, eh? Alright. If you feel
you have the stomach for it, I'll divulge all. I'll see if I can be a little more brief in
this letter than the last one (yeah, right).
As I said, after the makeover was over, I had to sit with Cori and listen to the rest
of the night's entertainment. Women sure have a different way of interacting than
men. At least I think so. I think that at times, they forgot a man was in their midst
and were sharing their emotions freely. To tell you the truth, at times I kind of
forgot I was a man also. Odd, eh?
Well, I endured endless tips on posture and how to cross and uncross my legs
sexily from Cori that night (did she think I was staying this way?) and it was finally
finished. I thought it was finally time to go and change my clothes. Then it dawned
on me. I left all my clothes at Cori's school! As I look back, I remember walking
out thinking I had forgotten something; but the smell of my perfume, the way my
slip felt against my hose, and the way my heels sounded on the hard floor must
have made me temporarily insane. At least that's the only thing I can think of to
explain it.
Ah well, Cori reminded me, I had to remain dressed up so my wife could see me
anyway. She said that a few of them were going out to dinner and wanted me to
come along. Since Cori drove, I had little choice. I told her that I was afraid that
someone would recognize me or know I was not really a woman, but she just said
"Number one, there is no way ANYONE will recognize you and number two you
look more like a woman than I do." I asked her what she meant and she just said
that the way I looked tonight, someone would need a chromosome test to prove to
them that I was really a male. I then blushed for the third time in my life.
I guess the real barrier to me going out is I hadn't seen myself yet. I told Cori this
and she took me into the ladies room at church, parked me in front of the full-length
mirror and said "You don't trust me? Trust your own eyes, then." Have you guys
ever heard the expression "I can't believe my own eyes"? Well that's how I felt. I
have been looking in the mirror for about 25 years now and I can usually predict
what I'm going to see. What I didn't expect to see was a beautiful woman staring
back at me. As a man, and a long-time judge of women, (no offense) sure, I had
seen better. But my GOD, I had seen much worse! First off, Stella, you may
remember seeing me in shorts. Trust me on this one, with the hair off, these are
college-girl's legs. Legs that I would surely give a second glance to on the street.
The rest of the body looked, well, . . . feminine. I looked at the way the dress
hugged my curves and could find nothing masculine about it. The WonderBra
helped a lot, of course!
I was starting to wonder if I really wanted my wife to see me like this. My wife is
beautiful, don't get me wrong! But, that night, I could catalog quite a few places
where I was (get this) prettier than her. About that time, Cori started talking about
her blood sugar and said we had to go.
The trip to the restaurant was uneventful. Getting out of the car in a miniskirt,
however, should require some sort of class or certification. Supported by their
courage, I went into the restaurant. I thought I was going to hyperventilate on the
way in. Cori just said "Relax, Kathi. The only thing you have to worry about
tonight is single guys." The hostess showed us to our table ("right this way,
ladies") and we sat down with me on the outside because Cori wanted to show off
my legs.
The waiter greeted us with a "Good evening, ladies" and seemed puzzled why a
few of us snickered. He took our orders (it must have been panic that drove my
voice that high) and left. I heaved a huge sigh of relief and Cori said something
about I told you so, etc. and that he probably thought I was cute.
Well, we finished our meal and Cori said she wanted to go to the ladies room. I
started to say she didn't need my permission, but she told me she wanted me to
come too to "freshen" my makeup so I would be soft and pretty for my wife. By
this time, I had little fear of being discovered, so I went with her and entered the
inner sanctum of womanhood - the ladies room. Let me tell you, you guys (gals)
have it soft when it comes to restrooms. In most men's rooms, they are dark, smell
bad, and most guys don't lift the lid so there's urine all over the seats. Lovely
imagery, eh? Not the ladies room. It was bright, had a nice color of paint on the
wall, a couch and was much nicer. Cori fixed my makeup and hair (about a five
minute process!) and said it was time to go and meet my wife.
The other girls wanted to go dancing, but I was WAY too much of a coward to do
that. Besides, I now believed that I could easily be mistaken for a woman and
would probably get beaten up if the guy who asked me to dance found out my little
"secret." Best to avoid it, I thought.
Cori dropped me off at home and said I could get my clothes Monday when I had
my nails removed. I still couldn't believe I had to wait until Monday. Oh well, I'll
just have my hands in my pockets for about the next 36 hours or so.
My wife came home about 15 minutes later. She kind of gasped when she saw me
the first time. She thought I was in the wrong house or something. After she
gasped, a smile spread across her face. She didn't say a word, just walked around
me a few times looking me up and down. "My God, they didn't have to remove
anything, did they?" she asked. She said that she was jealous of my body and face
and that I really looked beautiful. I tried to protest that it was just clothes and paint
but she didn't buy it. She said that under the clothes and paint, it was still me
providing the essence of womanhood, or something like that. She said she was
proud of me for agreeing to this and that she would make it up to me. I told her that
the ladies did have a fun time with it and well, . . . so did I in a way. I told her that
it was a neat feeling fooling all those people. I don't think there was one person at
the restaurant who didn't think I was exactly what I looked like; a beautiful woman.
As a finale to the night, I learned how a woman gets ready for bed. Cleaning my
contacts (heck, getting them OUT!) with nails is not an easy task. Removing the
makeup isn't as easy as I thought, and I can't just rip off my clothes and throw
them in a ball in the corner, I have to take off my dress and hang it up. Take off my
bra (goodbye, cleavage) and scratch for five minutes (how do you STAND it?!),
gently remove my hose and finally I'm done. Quite a far cry from just brushing my
teeth and hopping in bed.
The finale nears:
I have to tell you ladies. I don't know why you do it; cosmetics, tight clothes,
uncomfortable shoes (well, they aren't THAT bad!) and all for what? For a MAN to
look at you?! Trust me, they don't notice all the effort you go through to look your
best for them. I learned that night just a small portion of what it means to be a
woman. I can tell you one thing. I will NEVER again ask my wife to hurry in the
bathroom with her hair and makeup now that I know what it takes. To tell you the
truth, I think EVERY guy should have to go through something like this so they
can more appreciate what women do to impress them.
It is now Friday night the week after "Operation Kathi." I still have reminders of
the night. My eyebrows are still quite thin. They never were quite hairy, but they
definitely look quite feminine now. My legs itch like you wouldn't believe! I feel
like a cricket as often as I'm rubbing them together. My wife simply says if I want
to stop the itching, I should shave them. She says the itching will stop. I ask her
what about the next time and she says, with a smirk, to just keep shaving them. I
think she likes the feel of them.
Since no one knew I was a man in the makeup chair, no one took pictures. I think
I saw flashes popping when Cori told them all that I was actually a man, so I'll see
if anyone got pictures (maybe I should just go to Glamour Shots. What do you
think?) I guess I went back on my promise to make this short. Sorry. Would you
please print a copy of this for Stella since I'm sure she will get a kick out of it too.
Until next time, take care!
Kathi
Pansy
- 16.07.2021
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