Years ago, when I was in my late high school days I worked at a local Woolworth store in the women's clothing section. It was there I met an interesting lady quite my senior, perhaps in her mid 50's. Mrs Worthington was a saleslady, a kind person who befriended me as she did all young people working at the store. She dressed with an understated flare and had the feminine grace and charms that was typical of the women of the 1960's and 1970's.
One autumn evening we were on break in the employee room when we were making small talk about the changing weather, and I mentioned I couldn't believe Halloween was just around the corner. She asked if I was going out with anyone for that night, to which I replied I was not seeing anyone right now. A smile broke upon her face and she stated, "Two years ago my son Kevin got an unexpected thrill on Halloween, the likes of which he'll probably never forget. He wasn't planning to go out but I made plans for him to accompany me on a 'party crawl' to several of my friend's places that had venues that night."
Now that she had my attention, she continued recalling how she decided without Kevin's input or blessing that he would accompany her on the outing, but dressed as a young women from the skin out. "His maleness had not started to change his body and he was an easy subject - i realized it's now or never, so i proceeded to use my store discount to buy every imaginable article that a smartly dressed college gal would need when going out." I was expecting her to give me the gory details but she picked up her coffee and sipped at it.
After a long pause I had to hear more; "Do you have a picture and what did you do?", I enquired? "Actually I do, I have half an album of Kevin dressed and at the parties, but should have a snapshot here in my wallet... yes, here, look". It was a bit of a letdown for the photo looked to be of an 18-23 year old young woman properly put together for a cocktail party. She continued. "He was such a willing subject that I began to wonder if it wasn't something he had secretly wished for. Besides the tight fitting cocktail dress I had him don a matching bra and panty set, garter belt, all in black, and sheer smoky black nylons.
My next door neighbor, Mrs. Jackson, was a double mastectomy survivor, and when I told her of my plan she loaned me her better pair of silicone 'falsies' which were a full C cup. In return I promised Louise to bring my transformed Kevin over for a cup of coffee and we'd have some 'girl talk' time. After adding a slip and zipping him into the dress I helped him into his high heels and handed him his purse. His complexion was clear but he got the full treatment of liquid foundation, powder, rogue, eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara. His brows were already passable so after applying lipstick and gloss he was ready for the wig."
Mrs. Worthington paused a moment and placed the picture back in her wallet, then continued. "We visited Louise for about 20 minutes and while she called my son by his name she treated him as if he were a young woman. Kevin, who was a bit apprehensive after being dressed began to get comfortable in his garb and Louise egged him on a bit to act like a woman. After our neighborly chat we drove to a party, socialized a bit and then moved on to the next. Kevin was introduced as my visiting niece, and not a single person batted an eyelash in disbelief." Soon our breaks were over and we resumed our sales positions back on the floor. After store hours we closed up, and I walked out with Mrs. Worthington. I let her know I enjoyed hearing about her son and she smiled and said, "Maybe someday you'll have a male in your life and you'll wish to make lighting strike again!"
I recently recalled that long-ago conversation with Mrs. Worthington after seeing a short clip online of two women feminizing a guy. It sent a shiver through me. While I am a 100% straight woman, the thought of a well planned and gradual feminization of my unsuspecting husband is now something I think and daydream about every day. At this point I haven't considered any role reversal, female leading or subservient domestic relationship - my compulsion is to somehow gradually lure him into feminine grooming and dressing to the point where, like Mrs. Worthington's son, nobody bats an eyelash at him.