Deedra, A Makeup Class For Me

Deedra, A Makeup Class For Me

It seemed like such a simple request. But yet I was wary, very wary of anything my wife asked me to do for her. In the past, I have been coerced, into doing things no normal member of the male gender would participate in.

Countless shopping trips for clothes, even lingerie, were suffered through but not forgotten. I even spent weeks with long elegant nails after being asked to accompany her to her nail salon. The excuse that time was the manicurist needed the practice, the nails were temporary, easily removed at a later date. Yeah, six weeks supposedly necessary before they could be removed.

At least, that was the tale given me when I asked her to take the nails off. So now any request for me to do something for her was approached with extreme caution.

Her request today was to take our daughter to a makeup class, and stay with her till they were done. During the class a parental approval might be necessary for some of the procedures, so the need for me to stay in the class with her if needed. It was the first class in five, the first few classes teaching the basics, then the last two perfecting what they learned.

I quizzed Janet, my wife repeatedly about the class, expecting something that was being withheld so I would do the requested deed. Nothing disturbing was discovered, our daughter Nancy had the completed application forms and the fees for taking the class in her purse. Right there I should have noticed the use of forms and fees in the plural. My wife did assure me that she would take our daughter to the last classes if needed.

On the trip over to the salon where the class was being given Nancy was exuberant, literally bouncing in the front seat. She had been allowed to wear some makeup previously, but was limited to lipstick and some mascara. So to be shown the rest of the cosmetic package and be able to use all of it was exciting for her.

The instructor took the forms from Nancy, gave her a receipt for the fees and then proceeded to hand her two smocks to use during the class. I gave the instructor a puzzled look, but was startled when the instructor asked what name I wanted to use during the class.

My too exuberant daughter blurted out Peaches, a nickname my wife used on occasion when she wanted to embarrass me. I was handed the name badge, and told I could change into the smock in the restroom. No outer clothes could be worn, just underwear and the smock, thus preventing any possible spills on our good clothes.

I started to protest but my ever helpful daughter grabbed a hold of me and soon we were in the ladies restroom changing into the smocks. I dragged my feet but Nancy helped me after she had donned her smock. All the time I was protesting vehemently but my daughter was not listening. That trait she most likely learned from her mother.

Soon I was down to my shorts and my t-shirt. Then in one swift move my t-shirt was pulled over my head. I gladly accepted the smock after that, anything in clothes better than being nearly naked.

Our clothes were put in a locker, and Nancy produced a lock from her purse to make sure they would still be there when the class ended. The key to the lock placed in her bra. Now any means of escape for me is locked away. My clothes, my wallet and my keys now securely locked up.

We adjourned to the classroom, a part of the salon set up for just this type of class. A salon chair in the middle surrounded by ten other salon chairs. Each had their own mirror mounted to the front and side of the chair, that way the student could see what she was doing and also what the instructor was demonstrating. I was seated next to my daughter, at the head of the circle, next to the instructor.

It took me awhile to adjust my posture to avoid my underwear from showing underneath the smock. I eventually ended up with my knees tightly together and my legs crossed at my ankles.

The instructor started off describing facial types, and what an ideal facial type for a female would be. She then went around the circle helping each student decide what their facial type is. Apparently my facial type is an oval, the perfect facial type for a female. My daughters is round, a common facial type for a female.

Then she described what had to be done to convert our facial type into the ideal oval of a perfect female. It started with the eyebrows, a first task to soften the image staring back at them. She helped each student decide what eyebrow shape was perfect for them then showed them how to apply the cream to remove any excess hair there.

I didn’t pay any attention to the instructor, still sulking about being roped into this stupid class. After she had made her rounds, she returned to me asking why I was not participating. I couldn’t think of an answer, so she decided to use me as a model during the class. I was moved to the center chair, the rest of the class circled around me. She would show what was to be done on me, then watch as the class duplicated her efforts.

Since I had not done the eyebrow shaping she applied the cream to my whole eyebrow, fifteen minutes later I had not a single hair left there.

I guess I could have wiped the cream off before it did its work, but I was still upset at all of this, in particular my wife. When I looked in the mirror I was shocked, such a simple thing as removing my eyebrows changing my looks drastically.

She then penciled in the brow that best matched my desired facial type. It was a very thin brow line peeking high above my eye. I just sat there, as she performed the task, not knowing quite what to do or say.

I maybe should have stopped her, but sitting there with all the young females kind of embarrassed me. So I allowed her to do my brows, explaining how to pencil them in and where the highest point of the arch should be. A look in my own mirror to the side of my chair confirmed my now exquisite feminine brows. That one action removing any masculinity I might have possessed. Now a blank canvas for entering into the female gender.

The instructor checked for any beard growth on me, using the cream again to remove what little there was. I hesitated in complaining, a male in a female class on makeup, at a distinct disadvantage on what to say or do when facing a dilemma. A simple stop would have prevented any change but my mind was out to lunch so nothing was voiced.

I finally decided to speak up the instructor was wiping what little beard I had off my face with a towel. The cream had done its job, not a single hair to be found. She informed me that I would not have to shave again, the hair now permanently removed. After the shock of hearing I would not have a beard in the future, some semblance of normality returned to my mind. I never had much of a beard, but the lack of any changed my appearance significantly.

The instructor moved on to foundations, helping the girls to find the correct shade for their complexion. She showed them how to apply the foundation, using my face as a blank canvas. She explained her actions and how the foundation was spread evenly over the face. She did tell me that I would have to do this myself for the last two classes, a requirement of the makeup class. I gave her a funny look, surely this disaster wouldn’t continue on indefinitely.

I intended to discuss this with my wife tonight, in no uncertain terms. Since I had been tricked into this, I was not going to continue in this vain. It sounded good, but in the past I have never confronted my wife successfully, always giving in to any attempt to avoid what she had planned for me.

It was apparent she had planned this well, my involvement and my commitment to experience the class in its entirety. Nancy was not blameless, having the lock in her purse so convenient. I am sure they had talked it over, making plans for me to participate in all of the makeup classes.

The instructor moved on to blush, highlighting my cheeks and blending smoothly with the foundation. I hesitated looking in the mirror, afraid of the image I might be looking at. When I did peek, I quickly closed my eyes, the image so utterly feminine.

As the class time was up, the instructor went around to each girl adding lipstick and mascara so that the look was somewhat complete. That way the parents would be pleased that the girls were learning to do the makeup properly and worth the expense of the class.

The class was dismissed, but before I could get out of the chair the instructor smirked and added some lipstick to my own lips and mascara to my eyes. I hastily made my exit, Nancy had already gathered our things from the locker and headed for the car, We had been told to keep the smocks, wearing them for the next class meeting.

I caught up with my daughter at the car, as she handed me the keys to the car and sat her behind in the passenger seat. I decided to drive home in the smock, better than having to take my clothes back inside and change in the ladies bathroom.

It took me awhile to get situated in the driver’s seat, covering up as much of my body as possible in the process. Still too much skin was showing in my opinion, but I wanted to get home and undo what had been done to me in the makeup class.

When we pulled into the garage my wife came out to appraise how Nancy looked, complimenting her on her beauty. Of course, Nancy ate it up, her smile from ear to ear. Then I was appraised, as she came over and grabbed my face to turn it so she could see all of my new looks. She did notice the smock, wanting to know if I wanted to change into a dress for dinner.

As good as you look I decided to take you out to dinner, maybe clubbing if you want too. No outright laughing but a giggle or two slipped out of her mouth as she uttered those words.

I headed inside and made a beeline for our bathroom. I used a washcloth to remove the makeup, but to my horror very little of it came off. I found her cold cream buried in one of her makeup cases, and tried that, the makeup still pristine and quite noticeable. My wife was standing at the door to the bathroom suggesting that I get used to the look.

Nancy had informed her that the makeup used on me was semi=permanent as befitting the adult that I was. It would last for several days before fading somewhat. By the time of the next makeup class my skin would be ready to do it all again.

I sat down on the toilet lid, moisture leaking from my eyes and a look of total frustration on my face. Janet showed up a few minutes later with a dress in her hands. I was stood up and the smock was slipped over my shoulders, Janet not wanting me to get it dirty so I could use it for the next class. She slipped my arms into the sleeves of the dress and zipped me up. I gave her such a look, but as usual she just ignored me.

I tried to inform her that I was not going back to the class, she could take our daughter to the remaining classes. She calmly replied that I was registered for the class, not her. She would take us to the class though, then come back to pick us up after the class was over.

That way I would not have to drive, since my I.D. was male and I would be in a smock with makeup on my face. I might have trouble explaining to the policeman why I was dressed as a female. I hadn’t thought of that, one more thing to concern myself with.

I was scared to death as I was led from the house to our car. She did use the tube of lipstick given me in the class to touch up my lips before being dragged to the car. I protested all the way, but she was not listening. When we pulled up to a quaint restaurant in a trendier part of town she pulled up to the door, the doorman helping us out of the car. She took my arm and led me inside. We were seated in a quieter part of the restaurant, as a waitress came to take our orders.

As I looked around the restaurant I saw nothing but young females, not a member of the male sex anywhere. It dawned on me that she had taken us to a restaurant catering to lesbians. I looked around the surrounding tables, most of the couples engaged in kissing and fondling. Sure enough Janet had moved closer, taking my face in her hands and delivering one passionate kiss, with a few gropes thrown in for good measure.

I tried to broach the subject of her taking our daughter to the makeup class several times that evening, but she kept saying it was not practical to make a change now. The kiss had so distracted me that I did not continue the conversation, forgetting what I was trying to say to her.

My makeup did fade away before the next scheduled class so that was one thing less to worry about. On the day of the class Janet had pressed my smock wanting me to look my best. I was given a pair of panties to wear, all of my shorts now missing from my dresser drawer. The pantie was a light shade of pink, covered in lace with a thong back. Once on, I complained vehemently, but she replied she didn’t have any other pair that was clean.

So dressed in my panties and the smock Janet gathered us up and drove us to the class. We were dropped off outside the salon, my daughter grabbing my hand and leading me into the salon. We found our seats and put on our name badges. The instructor smiled at my appearance, anxious to get started. I avoided her staring at me, fearful that if I acknowledged her I would get more of the attention that I received last time. Attention that I did not want to suffer through again.

Her first topic tonight was lip plumping, a way to enhance your lips making them more seductive and attractive. Of course, before I knew it she was applying the cream plumper to my lips. Like a dummy I let her do it. The cream doing its job quite quickly, I could almost feel them swell up. One look in the mirror and I let out a big sigh, my whole mouth now quite feminine, only lacking a little more lipstick color to complete the sexy kissable lips.

She moved on to eye makeup, what to use and how to apply it to my eyes. Eye liner, eye shadow, and mascara were covered, my eyes now looking quite female. Once again I was used as the model, the instructor just holding my face in her one hand as she applied the eye makeup to my eye.

As far as she was concerned I was the makeup model, by the time she was finished my eyes were so pretty and so seductive. I did get the eye makeup taken off for a short time, then had to apply it myself. When I hesitated she gave me such a look, then picked up the eye makeup and leaned over next to me. I got the hint, if I didn’t apply it myself she would do it for me.

Another class over with, as we made our way out of the salon. Janet was waiting for us near the entrance. I sat in the back seat not wanting to be near Janet, so she could examine my looks. I did get observed through her rear view mirror though, a smirk coming to her face.

Once back home I hurried to our bedroom, wanting to get out of the smock and pantie. I removed them then looked in our closet. Not a stitch of male clothing remained, all of my male clothes gone. I checked my dresser drawer for some type of shorts or briefs, finding nothing but a multitude of panties, all of them thongs.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking my head and trying to figure out what to do. Janet showed up, picked out a pair of panties then a dress and helped me put them on. I was gathered tightly in a hug, and held for quite some time. A few kisses and she dragged me to the kitchen for some nourishment. Our daughter was there already snacking on some chips, giving me a huge smile as I was led into the kitchen.

I didn’t try to remove the makeup tonight, figuring that I would have to wait until it faded away over the next few days. The plump lips though were hard to ignore, my mouth felt so different. Janet was watching me as I tried to run my tongue over the swollen lips.

She decided to intervene, walking up to me and holding my face in her hands as she kissed me. It was not a simple kiss, her tongue was involved as she pressed her lips tightly to mine. The kiss did feel different with the plump lips, more sensuous and appealing. As Janet broke off the kiss she applied another coat of lipstick to my now plump lips. guaranteeing more days in the makeup.

The makeup did fade some during the next week, but was till quite noticeable when it was the time for the next class. Dressed in our smocks we were dropped off at the salon and entered the classroom. I set a chair or two further away from the instructor, hoping to avoid being used as the model again. I did succeed, but realized I would now have to participate in the class and apply my own makeup during the class.

The class seemed to last forever, but the image in the mirror in front of me looked quite feminine. I somehow had applied the makeup properly, converting my male face into a very pretty female face. The instructor complimented me, proud that I had learned something from the class.

Janet waiting for us as we left the salon, complimenting Nancy on her looks, then pushing me up against the car and kissing me passionately. We did make it home, but I was taken to our bedroom and dressed appropriately in lingerie and a dress for another excursion out on the town. As she was zipping up my dress she whispered that after the next class I would spend another hour or two at the salon as they corrected my lack of a female figure.

I started to complain immediately, but she told me with the new restrictions on proper I.D. my drivers license would have to be updated and a picture taken reflecting my female image. On the way to pick us up she encountered two I.D. checks manned by the highway patrol. Mouth open once again but she shushed me, telling me not to worry she would see to the needed changes for me.

Nancy and I were delivered to the next to last class, but Janet had to attend to my I.D. changes, so headed off to accomplish that. I did do my own makeup during the class, the class today on evening makeup. The image at the end of the class in my mirror was utterly gorgeous, I had no idea I could look so feminine and pretty. I missed what the instructor was saying at the end of the class, Nancy filling me in as we left the classroom.

Since all of the students had done so well, she had organized a fashion show for the parents and interested parties at the next class. A local boutique furnishing the fashions and the salon supplying the needed area to hold the fashion show.

Before I got very far one of the techs from the salon caught me, telling me I had an appointment now. She led me off as Nancy giggled but continued to Janet’s waiting car. In the main salon I was taken to a room near the back of the salon and my smock was removed, panties too as I was helped up on a table.

More cream for my body, my body hair its target. Once the removal was accomplished breast forms were glued to my chest in the appropriate places, then junior was tucked away and glued into his new home, a silicone appliance was glued over the area, providing cover for him and giving me the necessary female looks in that area.

I was in a daze, watching what was happening but not able to respond to the actions, my voice faint and stuttering. I was informed that the appliances were good for six months, the glue one of their best adhesives. I would have feeling in the applied appliances after a day or two, the silicone bonding with my own skin.

My hair was washed and conditioned, then set in curlers. A liberal spray of setting lotion was applied, then she used a hand held hair dryer to dry my locks. A little while later she removed the curlers, and brushed out the style she had picked on for me. That quickie hairstyle finished off my feminine image, now there is no doubt about my gender.

Janet had to come into the salon to get me, I was just sitting there lost in my thoughts. She led me out of the salon after she got me back into my clothes, and took me home. Into the house then back to our bedroom. Out of the smock and pantie, then dressed in some sexy lingerie, namely a bra, a garter belt and a scandalous pair of panties that oozed sex. A sheer pair of stockings, then a towering pair of heels.

The dress was next, a strapless LBD that conformed to my body like a second skin. I had to inhale several times before she got the zipper up my back and secured. I was appraised by her, the lust in her eyes quite obvious. She took several pictures, sending them to her computer.

Again led out of the house, her wanting to show me off to the world. It was the fanciest restaurant in town she pulled up to, the valet getting our doors for us. I did sit there motionless until the valet reached in to take my hand and help me out of the car. No thoughts possible all of this over whelming me, my mind fried to a crisp.

It was a surreal experience, with me not really coherent during most of the time at the restaurant. I remember a few things while there, the food was great, but my stomach did not allow much to be consumed. Several of Janet’s friends came to the table and I was introduced to them, but I couldn’t remember their names or what they did in life. I do remember focusing on my breasts at one time during the evening watching them rise and fall as I breathed.

I did learn that I was now to be called Deedra, a more appropriate name for such a pretty female. I was able to persuade her not to take me dancing, just content to be taken home. I debated trying to get Janet to reverse all that had been done to me, but feared she would never agree to that possibility.

I eventually settled into my new persona, even finding employment at a local cosmetic boutique doing makeup for prospective customers. I do get taken out quite often, at least three times a week. Of course, a weekly salon appointment to keep my female looks adequate for my wife.

I often think back to my time at the makeup class, a skill I learned and a life changing trip into the female gender. A delightful trip for sure, one that I am most pleased about.

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