One of those high confidance days!

I had quite the incredible last twenty four hours, let me tell you all about it! Last night I tried using Nair to remove my belly, chest and thigh hair. I have had a rough time in those areas with shaving and waxing, many ingrown hairs and rashes and a fair bit of pain to go with. Not to mention the fact that the hair returns so rapidly and in the case of shaving it comes back sharp and prickly. I will save the shaving for my armpits and face for now as they seem to be the only places I don't feel comfortable using a chemical hair removal system. So needless to say I was feeling ultra sexy and as feminine as a girl can feel with all my soft hairless skin. So I decided that I would dress the way I was feeling and put on my skirt and my stockings and went to take Miss Holly for a walk around the block. We ended up travelling about five or six blocks as I tried to satisfy my desire to be outside en femme, walking the streets wrapped in my long red coat with the cool wind blowing on my soft bare legs. I returned home invigorated and feeling confidant and relaxed yet also very excited to be Kitten.

Me, I was ready to stay in and watch a movie and get frisky, my lady love though was feeling drained after an especially hard day and needed to nap awhile before she could do anything more. I did some writing and some reading and then Toad woke up needing his diaper changed which was when I discovered that we were nearly out of diapers. My girl asked me what was up and I told her about the diapers and toads issues, she suggested that I might go out to buy some more. At first I replied,"But I am as Kitten as I get right now!", or something to that effect, thinking that I couldn't possibly walk to the store alone as Kitten. Within a short period of time though I had gotten enough courage to make the short journey to Shoppers to buy diapers. I touched up my makeup and worked on my hair as best as I could and put on a coat then off I went!

As I approached the store I tried to get to the entrance by way of the darkest route so as to avoid being "spotted", though there was really noone around to see me anyway. I was feeling quite out in the open as I was bathed in the stark flourescent lights that illuminate the stores interior and exterior, so I decided I might as well get my ass in the store so I did not seem out of place hanging out in front. I walked in and noticed that there were very few customers, a handfull of individual shoppers 3 men and a woman I believe were spread throughout the store and there appeared to be only two staff and one pharmascist on duty. I walked briskly to the farthest aisle looking pointedly at the products that were on the shelves, turning my head away from the clerk and avoiding an aisle that had a man coming in my direction. When I reached the last aisle I realized that the only diapers there were the adult kind, which I thought was a little odd that they did not keep all the diapers in the same "household items" aisle. So I had to search.
As I searched I became more relaxed, the store was quiet with the pharmascist in the back sorting pills and the footsteps of the few customers being the only sounds I heard. I began to think of the huge selection of makeup the store had and as I walked down one aisle I noticed all the hair accessories and some jewelry.

I realized that noone was going to paying me much attention and even if they were to, it really didn't matter as I was in no danger of being run out of the store. I decided that I might as well browse around and see what I might purchase for myself while I was there. I spent some time in the hair accessory aisle looking for nice clips and elastics, then I remembered that I had seen much better prices for basically the same items at other shops so I carried on. I found the diapers and spent five minutes deciding which brand and which size and which quantity to buy, who knew there were so many! Then with my diapers under one arm I decided to enter the brightest and most open section of the store, the makeup counter area. As I came up the aisle a man came around the corner of the neighboring aisle, I quickly turned to look at the various hair dyes and waited for him to pass. I was looking very feminine but was still somewhat selfconcious, particularly of my hair, so I wanted to avoid any direct interaction with any customers. After he passed on his way I slowly made my way up the aisle, looking at the various eyeliners, lipsticks, nailpolishes, foundations, blushes, it was a veritable cornicopia of femininity.

I compared the prices and qualities of some lipliners, testing them on the back of my hand as I had read was the proper way to compare with your skin tone. I selected a light pink one that went well with my favorite color of lipstick. I found a matching pink eye liner that I also had to compare with the myriad others until I was satified that it was the one I liked. Lastly I was taken by the image of a womans lips that shone and sparkled, "metallic shine lipstick" the photo proclaimed, I couldn't pass by without testing 3-4 shades on my hand, I settled on a darker shade than any I currently had at home, and decided that I should make my way to the counter before I went overboard and bought a whole set of new colors. I browsed around a bit and hung back while a couple came into the store and walked past me to a shelf near the till. I walked up to the counter and placed my purchases on the counter, looking directly at the woman who was working that evening.

She appeared to be around forty and looked very bored and tired, She glanced at me and proceeded to ask me how I was while she rang my items through, I responded in my best feminine voice, which isn't that great, that I was fine and inquired about her night. She barely spared me another glance and said she was alright and had just started a short while earlier. I felt nearly invisible, (perhaps passable?) which seems to be common when dealing with most retail staff these days. At this time the couple who had come in stepped up behind me and stood chatting as they waited for their turn. I wondered to myself whether they had any idea that I was not what I appeared to be and decided that they sounded too casual to have noticed anything about me. I assumed that if they had they would either be silent and sharing looks or whispering; who knows though, perhaps they are not new to transvestites and just did not give a damn! I think I make a much bigger deal of it than most anyone really would, I half expect people to point and laugh or yell at me, when more likely if they even had a problem with me they would probably simply ignore me.

The clerk told me the total and I offered my interact card, at this point she looked at me and a look passed over her face that said that she was not sure what it was but she sensed something was unusual about me. I am not sure it was recognition but she had a suspicion. She barely skipped a beat though and said, "Interact, alright, here is the pin pad," and handed me the device.I felt her sizing me up, assessing me, though that may have been in my pretty little head as she never once showed any overt signs of recognition. She said that my purchase had gone through held out my bag of makeup and wished me a pleasant evening. I picked the package of diapers off the counter, said thank you and a pleasant evening to you and I was out the door with a swish of my skirt. A few steps from the entrance I realized that I really wanted a cigar for my walk home to celebrate my first shopping outing on my own, I am quitting but I find reasons to have occassional relapses, I thought this was a good reason. I turned walked inthe door again and walked directly to the counter, far more confidant than when I had initally entered the store. I looked the clerk inthe eye and said "Oh, I completely forgot, could I please have a single colt cigar please?"

This time I think my voice may have tipped the scales as she gave me a knowing sort of look and said, "No problem, a single, and is that it?" I was sort of hoping she might ask me for ID as I was curious to see what kind of reaction I would get from someone seeing my ID while I was dressed en femme. My photo is of me when I had a full beard and to look at it and to look at me, I imagine my eyes are probably the only way to tell that I am the person on the card. Unfortunately she did not, she just passed me the cigar, rang it up and I dug some change out of my wallet. She gave me a friendly look and said goodnight again and I was out in the cold night air again.

I lingered a little in front of the store, no longer self concious, now very self confidant. I unwrapped the cigar and lit it thinking about whether to take the same side street route home or whether I should travel the main well lit street instead. It was no contest, I strode down the main street, practicing my walk and held my head up high. I was exhilarated! On the first block I passed a man who did not even look up from the sidewalk, as I reached the second block I pased a couple who only glanced at me, I smiled but they barely even acknowledged me, they seemed to be having an small arguement. As I crossed the street on the last leg of my journey I made direct eye contact with a girl heading in the direction I had just come, she gave me an odd sort of look that was neither friendly nor unfriendly, I saw her glance at my body, as if to check me out and then she took on a distant sort of look as we passed one another. At the time I assumed that she had read me for a crossdresser, though in hindsight she had more of a look of a woman who was checking the competition, or assessing my style. I will go with that, I like the idea of being looked at as competition by pretty young girls, it speaks volumes about my own appeal.

I made it home and took off my coat and shoes and smiled to myself. My first foray into the streets alone and I had completed my mission without a hitch. Heck I had even managed to get three items of makeup for about $18.00, which is often the price of just one! I really love the color I found for the lipstick as well, I have been using it predominately ever since. I have since gone out looking for jewelry and accessories on my own, and am hoping to go out again soon, perhaps to get coffee and sit in a restaurant and write or read. My fiancee and I went to dinner, karaokee, and even to vote together over this past week, but that is a whole other blog.

Purrrrrrrrrr,
Kitten.

It's all coming back to me now...

I don't get it. I feel so good sometimes, like nothing and noone can touch my positivity. Whether I am dressed en homme or en femme I can reach this sense of security, this place of unchallenged confidance. I hold my head up, I see the world around me, the faces of the people I pass, I notice the sounds and smells of the city in spring. Then a person says something disparaging, or dicouraging, and all of a sudden I can be deflated and emotionally depressed. There are times when I look at myself in the mirror and I am almost ashamed at how attractive I find myself (especially en femme), I don't see flaws, I don't feel like I am less than perfect just the way I am. Then my skin will breakout or my facial hair will get really scruffy and I can't see past the tired, stressed out 29year old man that I have known for so many years, and it makes me sad and discouraged.

One thing that I have noticed over this past while is that I still carry alot of insecurity and doubt about my appearance from experiences that occured when I was a teenager. There was a time when I had just moved to a new town and I was entering homeroom as a few girls were leaving the room. The girl in the lead to one look at me and at my chest and said something to the effect, "Nice boobs, are you a girl or what?" As a young man I had large puffy nipples that were mounted upon soft chest flesh that had little definition. I was always slim, and at the time had long chin length hair. At the time I did not know whether it bothered me that I could be mistaken for a girl, but I did know that it bothered me to be alienated by my peers, especially the girls! From that day forward I refused to remove my shirt in front of anyone.

I did not change for gym, I never swam without a t-shirt, I would wear a shirt even on the hottest sunniest days ignoring the numerous suggestions that I would be much more comfortable without a shirt. I remeber a couple of occassions in gym when the teacher had asked the boys in the class to play shirts vs. skins because we did not have enough pinneys to go around. I ended up getting sent to the office because I purposely got in trouble to avoid participating, sadly I really loved basketball but could not participate because there was always a risk that I would be on the skins team. People like my parents and teachers assumed that my refusal to change was due to some discomfort with being naked with other boys but I could not express what it was, they tried to get me to change after the other boys, but there was always a straggler, or I would be late. Mostly I had already reached a point where it was easier for me to flat out refuse with no real explanation than try to explain to them or my friends why I had to change alone. If I refused on the weak basis of, "I hate gym.", I never had to explain to my friends. They all understood defiance, and strong dislike of various aspects of school, without any real questioning.

I would rarely remove my shirt in front of my family even though they were not likely to make an issue of my nipples. Though that is not entirely true, out of love and wanting to show concern my mom would often say supportive things like, "You can barely see your nipples!", or "Most people wouldn't even notice." And when I started to breakout really badly in highschool I often got statements like, "Your acne doesn't look so bad lately, it seems to be clearing up!" Or "We will find a way to get rid of it, I know it must be hard for you but you look good anyway." I know that she was trying to be helpful and encourage me to worry less, but I can think of a dozen better ways to go about it! I had pretty bad acne as a young man and I tried to deal with it inn as many ways as I could find, I resorted to taking a prescription for awhile that had a list of side effects like peeling skin, dandruff, dehydration, bleeding from the anus, chapped lips...the list gets better and better. I decided in short order that I could not continue to take the pills to find out what aspects of the side effect lottery I would win. My two major childhood insecurities that have followed me into adulthood, which have flared up in new ways but take me back to the same feelings as though travelling through time.

The nipple issue is a non-issue now. My chest has filled out to meet the size of my nipples and they are now a proportional size to my breasts. Though the memory of that incident and the following 6 years or so when I wore a shirt constantly still rise to my mind when I look at myself in the mirror. There is a not so subtle irony at work that I find hard to ignore. As far as my acne, that has been a conflict ever since the day it started to be one. I still spend way too much time looking in the mirror worrying away at my face trying to somehow remove the unsightly marks, though probably causing far more damage than I am curing. Now I am dealing with make-up and shaving, clogged pores and ingrown hairs. In order to get the close shave that I desire I need to go over my face two even three times in both directions, doing so is causing havok on my sensitive facial skin. Shaving my belly and chest and upper thighs has resulted in an angry rash of bumps. Waxing was even worse when we tried it on my chest, I am still recovering from the many ingrown hairs that resulted. Add to that all the makeup that goes on and off my face and I have become as self concious of my acne as I was when I was fifteen!

I realized recently that when I look in the mirror I still see the same skinny flat chested, pimply boy I have for the last fifteen years. Though now that I have been dressing en femme I am able to move beyond that idea of myself, I am seeing an evolution of my appearance and I love what I am seeing! I am aware of my regression, as being just that a regression. For the most part now I am aware of my insecurity and it's source in a way that I had never really acknowledged in the past. So I still have my moments or even days and weeks, where I feel like I would be attractive if only I did not have such bad skin, or if my body was more/less defined. Now though, in trying to perfect a look of feminity while working within a certain known set of constraints (masculine features, dark/thick eyebrows, no hips or breasts, too much body hair!) I have realized a new appreciation of appreciation. I understand that in becoming Kitten I have a certain set of obstacles to overcome and I do it willingly and with gratitude for the physical qualities that I have that are in line with what I am trying to acheive. Instead of feeling that I am not built right or my skin is flawed I tend to see my full lips and slim figure, except on those dreaded low energy days. In contrast, when I try to be the me I have know for so many years I find myself slipping immediately into old patterns of self reproach and low confidance and yearning for those blessed high confidance day!

So I guess what needs to be done is to nurture that positive outlook, that comfortable confidance in both aspects of my person. I need to translate and transmit the knowledge from one headspace to the other, which when I look at it that way seems like it should be a relatively easy task, though the reality is that it feels like transfering a file from an advanced computer system to an outdated operating system.It seems to create bugs in the new system which I am trying to figure out as fast as they come, and having a fair bit of sucess at doing. Now if only I can find a way to not allow pop ups from the peanut gallery to slow my progress and keep others from messing with my settings I will be just fine!

Purrrrrrrrrrrrr,

Kitten.

"Shouldn't you keep that in the bedroom?"

It has been ten days since my last post and a lot has happened in that time. I have had the opportunity to talk to a number of my friends about what they think of my exploration; as well as had the opportunity to see how strangers respond to seeing a man in women's clothing. Most importantly I have learned that I am soon to be a new father! I am incredibly happy about it and I have been looking forward to being a dad for many years. I am a little surprised that it happened on the same day that I discovered that there was more to my personality than the man I had become. Perhaps there is something to the fact that I have not felt as complete as I do now that I am celebrating my feminity, as though my lack of acknowledgement somehow limited my capabilities as a man...

It seems to me that the majority of people have never been exposed to an individual who is trying to determine their orientation, be it a transvestite, transsexual, or any of the variations between. I have encountered a common thread of thought which is that if a man or a woman decides to wear clothing of the opposite sex that they must not be sure of their sexuality. In some cases this is true, I have read accounts of people who have felt their whole life that they have been given the wrong body/gender and struggle to come to a place of understanding and comfortability with their sex.

In my personal experience I have not questioned whether I am a man or a woman at heart; I have always known that I am a man who generally dislikes masculinity and how it is usually expressed. I have always found that I much prefer the company of women and have envied their diversity of expression. The accesssories, the clothing, the colour and the make up. I want to be treated softly, to be emotional and sensitive without being called a sissy, to dance and to sing, to be a nurturer and be nurtured.

It would seem that I am saying that it is not possible for a man to express himself, or to be kind and considerate. That a man is not allowed to cry or show weakness when he feels pain, and is limited to the primary colour wheel when dressing--suits and boots, son, that's all! It would seem that I am saying all women are soft and delicate, fickle and addicted to fashion and esthetics. Neither seeming is accurate as what I am expressing is generalizations, stereotypes, social norms, common attitudes, not my personal beliefs, values or opinions. Which is where I find my personal challenge; I am of a minority in a majority rules world.

The fact that I enjoy wearing women's clothing and presenting a feminine personae while doing it is often looked at as deviant inapropriate behaviour, as perverted or dirty, as being a negative influence on children, and wrongfully assumed to be sexually motivated. For me dressing as Kitten is an expression of my more feminine self, an opportunity to experience life in a different way and is no more inappropriate than being as manly as I can be. I have found that while being Kitten I feel more expressive and communicative, gentler, kinder, more attentive and nurturing. I consider the transformation to be a positive one in all ways, I feel attractive, I feel like a good person, I am comfortable. I like the way my body responds to being in women's attire; I sway when I walk, I hold my head up, my posture is correct, I even feel lighter on my feet.

As Kitten I do have sexual appetites, but I am not sexually stimulated strictly by getting dressed as a woman. Not that I think that should make any difference, people turn themselves on by looking their best all the time! So I guess I am saying that no, I don't believe that I should "keep it in the bedroom"; I wish to be accepted as I choose to express myself, you don't have to be my friend but at least give me the same respect that is afforded to any other human being walking down the street. I want to be able to go out dressed as a woman without the fear that I am going to be beat up by some bigot who had a bad day. Is that to much to ask? I guess it is no different than it is for women fearing to walk in certain areas after dark, or having to put up with all manner of verbal and physical abuse when they go to a bar.

As a final comment I want to say that I believe that it is far more likely, in this century, to be a positive thing for children to be exposed to different types of people and gender choices, particularly within their own family. There is so much diversity in our world with race, gender, religion, sexuality and cultural values, that it is imperative that we raise our children to be open-minded and compassionate. With what is sometimes called a global community as our current state of affairs, we are all being exposed to value judgements, and personal choices that we may have never even believed would be considered "normal". I believe it is a fantastic boost to a child's social skills to interact with as many individual people and their individual life choices as possible; including but not limited to those relating to gender and sexuality.

We all make choices every day, this is a skill we are born with, a necessity to life, something that children can do without us sheltering them from other peoples ideas, or trying to make their choices for them. Kids can figure out what they do and don't feel is right, and until my kids tell me that they are not comfortable with me dressing as a woman, I will continue to do so in their company. Who knows? One day one of them may want to become a politician in the Conservative party and I will be there to support them, regardless of my personal feelings about Conservatives...

Kitten

Thor and Loki in Drag

To be or not to be? There is no question!

I was going to title this note, "To be or not to be", in reference to how I was feeling about Kitten. As in, do I need to be this person? Am I making a choice, or am I answering a call? I thought the quote was a good way to illustrate my feelings about it, I thought I should check out the original soliloquy to refresh my memory to what it is expressing. After reading it I felt it was too dark and depressed to be applied to what I consider a happy expression of self. I read the follow up interpretation of Shakespeares words and was at first reinforced in my conviction not to use it for my title.

“The essential purport of the world-famous monologue in Hamlet is, in condensed form, that our state is so wretched that complete non-existence would be decidedly preferable to it. Now if suicide actually offered us this, so that the alternative "to be or not to be" lay before us in the full sense of the words, it could be chosen unconditionally as a highly desirable termination ("a consummation devoutly to be wish'd" [Act III, Sc. I.]). There is something in us, however, which tells us that this is not so, that this is not the end of things, that death is not an absolute annihilation.[3]”

My first thoughts when reading this were that I don't feel that my existance is wretched at all and that I would not choose non-existance because of my feelings about Kitten. I also do not feel that suicide is ever an option and would not consider death a desirable alternative to coming out as Kitten. As for the third point, I completely agree that death is not a complete annihilation. And upon reading that line I realized why the original quote WAS in fact relevant after all! Metaphorically speaking I am contemplating whether to attempt a suicide of sorts in regard to Kitten, by denying her existance I would be attempting to kill the part of me that she is the manifestation of. Yet if death is not an absolute annihilation then I would most certainly be ensuring a life of being self-repressed and most likely as a consequence I would be miserable and feel as though I was not whole. I then look back at the first two parts of the statement and realize that my existance WOULD become wretched if I were to spend it denying Kitten and the pleasure I derive from becoming her. As for suicide I still don't see it as an option, very much in the same way I do not consider not being Kitten an option!

Kitten is a part of me that I have not acknowledged until recently. I am comfortable as Kitten and with her as my persona, though admittedly I am nervous about the general publics response to me. I am also a bit shy about letting everyone in my own little world know about Kitten, though so far the people I have shared her with in my life have been very supportive which makes it so much easier. I know I have a long way to go before I will be completely ready to go out everywhere I would normally go while I am Kitten, but I know now that it is not optional that I be Kitten. Kitten and I are one and the same, two sides to the same coin, the Yoni and Lingum of "I". I am excited to see where this exploration takes me, I just bought a journal today so I can write down the feelings and thoughts that come to me when I am away from the computer. I want to delve as deep into this as I can nd I find that stream of conciousness writing works well for me when dissecting my psyche. I should retire for the evening, until next time fare thee well friends!Sincerely,

Kitten.

My definition, my definition is this!

I have so many questions for myself, my brain starts going around in circles when I start to ask myself, why am I creating Kitten? Or am I , is she just an extension of myself that has never been addressed? Do I need to be doing this or is it just me looking for excitement? Does it matter why I do it if I am enjoying it, am I enjoying it?. I have been sharing her with my friends hoping that they will help me to understand what I am doing through their questions and comments. Most people that I have introduced her to have been very receptive, or at least not unreceptive, and not very surprised that I would choose to dress as a woman. My mate has been doing some research on the topic of crossdressing, transvestitism, transexuals, drag queens and the rainbow of variations between. Wikipedia has these as some of the various relevant listings.

Drag queen-is usually a man who dresses (or "drags") in female clothes and make-up for special occasions and usually because they are performing or entertaining as a hostess, stage artist or at an event. This is in contrast to those who cross-dress for reasons other than as a source of entertainment for others or transgender people who are not necessarily drag queens or cross-dressers but sometimes fit into those labels.

Transvestism-is the practice of cross-dressing, which is wearing the clothing of the opposite sex.

Transvestite-refers to a person who cross-dresses; however, the word often has additional connotations.

(from Latin trans-, "across, over" and vestere, "to dress or to wear")

Cross-dressing-is the act of wearing clothing commonly associated with another gender within a particular society.

Androgyny-is a term derived from the Greek words ανήρ (anér, meaning man) and γυνή(gyné, meaning woman)[1] that can refer to either of two related concepts about gender. Either the mixing of masculine and feminine characteristics, be it fashion statements, or the balance of "anima" and "animus" in psychoanalytic theory.

Androgyne
An androgyne is a person who does not fit cleanly into the typical masculine and feminine gender roles of their society. They may also use the term ambigender to describe themselves. Many androgynes identify as being mentally "between" male and female, or as entirely genderless. They may class themselves as non-gendered, agendered, between genders, Intergendered, bigendered or, gender fluid.
En femme

The term en femme is used in the transgender community, usually by male crossdressers, to describe wearing feminine clothing or expressing a feminine personality. The term is derived from the French, meaning literally "as a woman". Most crossdressers also use a femme (female) name whilst en femme. Many male cross-dressers correspondingly refer to their usual male presentation (boy-mode) as being en homme. "In drab" has also come to be used among some crossdressers in this way.

I feel as though each of these words and their corresponding definitions is applicable to me in some way, I respond very well to the sound of En femme or androgyne, and tend to dislike the sound of transvestite and drag queen. Crossdresser is the most boring, straightforward description of what I am doing when I become Kitten. I was asked whether I felt that my dressing as Kitten was more of a social experiment, or a "fetish" of some sort. I found this to be an extremely poignant question. My reply was to say if either, a social experiment, though there are definate fetishistic qualities to the way I feel when I become Kitten.

When I am Kitten I find that I have a very different response to my environment and I definately behave differently than I normally would. I am told that I am less sarcastic, more even tempered & refined, gentle, a more considerate lover, though more passive. That is not to say I am a bad guy, or a rude lover, more it illustrates the change in my energy and the ways that I express myself. I feel as though I am less likely to become erect and it seems to take more stimulation to get an erection started, though when I do have one I really have one! Sex is a very different experience, for starters their is more inclination toward foreplay and petting and when we do get into eachother I feel a definate passivity that is not as present when I am masculine. I definately still enjoy being my masculine self too, and my mate loves me as both people so I see no reason to discontinue exploration in this area. Until next time, adieu!

Kitten.

The Birth of Kitten

Hello!

My name is Kitten Kraske, I am here because I feel like I have a story that is worth sharing. I have not always been Kitten, nor am I always Kitten still. I started this life journey under a different name, one that is much more masculine. Around ten days ago Kitten made her first appearance. My fiancee and I had spent a late night swimming the aether together and while we were there she looked at me and saw Kitten. Pink ribbons, spiral curls, soft makeup, ethereal beauty, she could not stop the vision and so she asked if I would allow her to try to bring Kitten to the surface. I was happy to oblige and so a few days later while we were sharing an evening of hedonism she decided to run to the store and get some supplies to do just that. She picked out some soft pink lipstick, bubblegum nailpolish, blue mascara, a pair of pink ribbons, and a ringlet making curling iron.

The Super Curling Iron

She even bought me a box of heart shaped Lindt Chocolates! : ) Using these supplies along with a selection of her clothing she set to work bringing Kitten out in me. I shaved my face as close as possible and sat down for her to begin the transformation. We had a great time together figuring out how the iron worked and chatting while she painted my nails. It felt very comfortable being done up, having my hair curled reminded me of when I was a younger man and my mom and my sister did my hair with the curling iron, or better yet the crimper! I am sure that a few cans of hairspray ended up on my head over the years. It took awhile to get the ribbons in and the curls right but in the end she was generally satisfied with the outcome ; except maybe the clothing I know we can and have since done better.

The Finished Look

I wore the outfit the next day and the following evening we worked on Kitten again and did some refining. I plucked, not alot but enough to clean up my brows; more importantly I shaved, every part of me, arms, legs, chest, back, crotch, butt, hands, feet, EVERYWHERE! It took a couple of hours, I used clippers on my arms and chest, because I had experienced what can happen when I shave my chest, I want to try using wax. I used a razor everywhere else, I had never shaved my legs or feet or hands before, though I had done my croth so I knew what to expect. I got an intense rash on my thighs but did alright everywhere else. After we were done shaving me I looked like a much younger man and very much softer and feminine, I also felt so very smooth and silky! Mylove had also picked up some tights for me to wear which were black thigh highs which required me to have bare shaved legs to look good.

I have since maintained a routine of shaving daily, I have done my legs a few times, and I use the clippers on my arms and chest when I have time. I have done my nails consistantly and worn makeup at least 8 out of 10 days so far. This blog is about me trying to figure out what I am gaining from this experience, to understand why it feels so good to have shaved legs, and why it is so exciting to go out on the town in fully dressed. Why I have already bought more clothes for Kitten than I had before she came to town and I have a case of makeup and nearly a dozen scarves. I hope to understand what is motivating my exploration in regard to my clothing, and my personal sexuality. I have many questions and I hope that by writing I may be able to answer some of them, and perhaps if there are others out thee who recognize that my experience is kindred to their own that will gain insights into themselves.

Kitten