A Brief History of Tina

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BethanyJ
BethanyJ
463 Followers

But I had missed the chance to 'dress', I was disappointed. I got the impression that Uncle Jack was too

"Timothy. that sorting out you did yesterday, we'll take Jean's stuff to the charity shop tomorrow morning. But you forgot something, well, I didn't tell you, in the bottom drawer of the dresser by the window there is more. That needs looking at too. I think you might get a bit of a surprise there"

I didn't look that evening, it was getting late and a plan had begun to form in my mind.

5 - Friday

In the morning Uncle reminded me about sorting out the extra drawer of clothes, then grabbed his coat, his keys and his briefcase and was off. I cleared the breakfast things and then went up to the big bedroom, wondering what the 'surprise' was. And he was right. The drawer did contain yet more feminine things, and what things. Mainly underwear, but rather more exotic than Aunt Jean's everyday stuff. Several coloured bra and panties sets, a basque, black and obviously intended to do a lot of figure-shaping, stockings, several pairs, in fact to a transvestite, wonderful stuff. But, to my great regret, no suitable shoes.

Then something Uncle had said the previous evening came into my mind. He had said he had found out about a specialist shop in town, one which dealt with transvestites and their special needs. He warned me it was more of a sex shop really, but he did think some of the things they had might be appropriate for me. So I caught the bus into town just after breakfast.

The shop was where he had thought, tucked away just off the main shopping street, and I must admit I did blush a little as soon as I walked in. There were indeed many weird items on sale there. But the clothing, and especially the shoes, thrilled me! After looking round for a few minutes, as a rather over-made-up assistant came over to ask if I wanted help, I declined her offer and left the shop - but only to go out and round the corner to the bank. I did have some money of my own, and this seemed a suitable moment to 'invest it' in finding out exactly what sort of life I wanted to have.

Over an hour later I left the shop having spent several hundred in one go, on about eight items. Well, in fact a lot more if you count them individually. After all a pair of breast-forms counts as two, three pairs of shoes is six, two packs of false fingernails is twenty really, fake eyelashes counts as two, three pairs of clip earrings is another six. And one skirt, though it is so short, so tight, so shiny, so black, so - leather - it should only really count as a half.

On the way back to the bus I called in at another store, emerging with yet more feminine luxuries, three pairs of black stockings, nail varnish of my own, lipstick, a few other items. I had decided to REALLY make a go of it, that afternoon indeed. A quick trip to a small supermarket followed, I was fairly laden down by now but I knew it was going to be worth it. I spent nearly half an hour sorting out things after I got home, arranging my purchases in my room, then setting out places for two in the dining room and preparing the good quality 'ready meals' I had bought so that 'dinner a deux' would be a simple but classy affair.

And so it was that, at precisely 1.30 pm, I set to it. I thought about trying to shave my arms and legs but decided against it. I took the quick way out, smearing myself all over with a depilatory cream and then showering it - and my albeit fine body hair - away. Then a very hot, very scented bubble bath, luxuriating in it for as long as I dare, just dreaming of feminine things and inhaling the gorgeous sweet-scented odour from the very expensive bath oils I had just purchased. As I towelled myself dry I appreciated for the first time in a long time the feeling of smooth skin almost all over my body. It was heavenly. Then I shaved my face again, very carefully indeed.

Undies. A pair of black silk thong panties, full at the front to cover what I wanted to be covered, pulled up very tight. I started to get excited but tried to calm down, breathe deeply, control myself, just get on with it. The breast-forms came next, I carefully followed the instructions for applying the adhesive and was delighted the colour was so close to my own skin tone. After lying down for more than the recommended five minutes I was delighted to feel their weight pulling down as I sat up. Me, for the first time, with breasts. The 'cover-all make-up' I had bought with it worked better than I had hoped, I could hardly see the edge when I merged it over the top of the forms and onto my own skin.

The basque came next, my skin was soft and smooth after my bath and, I hoped, ready for moulding. Indeed it was. After pulling the draw-strings as tight as I could I looped them over a door handle and put all my weight into pulling them even tighter. I could hardly breathe at first but, when I caught a quick glimpse of my shape in the big mirror, I knew it was worth it. Then I had to think about the sequence of what was to come next. The nails last, probably, they were rather long and I would have trouble dressing with them on. But my toenails, I could do them. I did, another first, spreading the creamy deep red liquid over all ten of them and enjoying every moment of the experience.

I was so excited - surely most women didn't feel like this, dressing was almost an orgasm in itself. I calmed myself again and turned towards the rest of my makeup while my toes dried. I took my time, took care, this was to be as good a job as I could possibly carry out. A thin covering of a smooth foundation cream, it has a glorious silk sheen, I love it still. Just a little heavier down the sides of my nose and under my chin. Just a little blusher, not at all heavy, under my cheekbones.

I was very careful indeed with my make-up, being sure to produce crisp lines to my eye-liner end smooth silky lips. I resisted the temptation to inspect my face too closely at this stage, instead reaching for a hairbrush and smoothing my own hair straight back, then picked up the blonde wig. It fitted well, I reached round and clipped it into place, then revelled in gently brushing my very own golden locks. I had chosen big gold hoop earrings which I also clipped into place, then stood up. Time was getting on!

The basque had 'settled' onto me, and the uplift bra was now having its full effect, I looked down onto a very impressive bulging cleavage. But I had to get on, I unwrapped my new stockings, black, very sheer and seamed with a 'Cuban heel' effect. Sliding them onto my freshly smoothed legs, and clipping the six garters into place was an experience I will never forget. Then I did sit down again to attach my long red fingernails, not with sticky pads as I had done before but with the proper adhesive, I wanted no mishaps to spoil the evening. Three gold rings and one small gold bracelet completed the effect, my hands really did look much more delicate, more graceful, more feminine.

And finally, nearly, my top and skirt. The blouse was one of Aunt Jean's, black, sheer, see-through over my arms and with six gold buttons down the front. I undid the top three and clipped into place, difficult with those nails on, a black velvet choker with a single matching stud at the front. And then the skirt, I had hardly dared buy it but I couldn't resist the temptation. I slid it up my legs, over my thighs and into place, straining a little to pull up the zip and fix the little clasp at the top. And then a wide gold belt round my waist.

My shoes! The skirt had excited me, those shoes totally thrilled every bone in my body. I had fallen in love with them in the TV shop. I had bought two other pairs, one with much lower and more sensible heels. This pair were in no way 'sensible'. Shiny black patent, with gold-coloured 6" stiletto heels and ankle straps, each with a tiny gold clasp. I slipped them on, the feel of the nylon sliding in was exquisite, and they really did take some fastening, I was determined not to damage my long red nails. I stood up, my first time on such ultra-high heels, and walked around the room a little, marvelling at the way such heels made the muscles of my feet tense slightly and produce a pair of very effective, female-looking ankles. I felt as if I had been wearing them all my life, I loved it. And when I turned to look in the mirror, I gasped, the reflection I saw was absolutely everything I had hoped it would be - 'sex on legs'!.

I grabbed my clutch bag, again black with a bright gold chain, and stuffed into it a few things from my coat pocket - a credit card for some reason, my own driving licence, a little money, then added my mascara and lipstick. I was ready.

In the kitchen I finished to last stages of sorting our evening meal, again revelling in those female sensations - walking about in very high heels, the tightness of my skirt as I stretched across the table. And some new ones to me, the feeling of the weight of my breasts as I leaned over, the slight awkwardness but nevertheless enjoyment as I tried to arrange the cutlery with my long red nails flashing in front of me.

It was getting a bit too much, I opened the French windows and stood on the patio for a while, it was just beginning to get dark. The cool air on my nylon-clad legs, another gorgeous feminine feeling. Breathe in, I thought, calm down.

I went back into the dining room and turned the light on over the table, then dimmed it slightly. I opened the wine and poured myself a glass. I heard a car drive up and then footsteps coming over the gravel up to the front door.

"Hi Timothy, where are you?"

I walked through the double doors from the dining room into the hall. In a voice I hoped would sound gentle, feminine, a little bit sultry and sexy, I spoke.

"Hello darling"

The voice had exactly the right effect, alerted Uncle Jack to the fact that something was a bit different. And the greeting too, I had always said 'Uncle Jack', almost always, before. Now I was being more familiar, there must be a reason for it. Uncle Jack had just put his briefcase on the hall table, had his back to me. He turned and looked, seeing me silhouetted against the light from the dining room. I strode forward, feeling my breasts bounce, I smiled.

"Streuth! Timothy. You look sensational!"

Uncle Jack always did know exactly the right thing to say. I strolled forward to take the newspaper from under his arm and lie it on top of the briefcase.

"Thank you, Jack" And I kissed him lightly on the cheek! "Dinner is almost ready, I wanted to try for something special this evening."

Uncle Jack was still staring. I watched his eyes as they moved their focus from my face and hair, down over my nervously heaving breasts, past my tight waist and over my skirt to my nylon-covered thighs, then down my long legs to my stilettos. Then he looked up again.

"I can hardly believe it, you look gorgeous. And definitely not a 'Timothy'. You need another name, in no way can I call you 'Timothy'".

I had to think. In my own mind, over the years I had adopted several female names.

"How about 'Tina'?" asked Uncle Jack.

Perfect. I smiled.

"Yes, thanks, that will do very nicely indeed" . I took Jack's arm and led him through into the dining room. "Hungry?" I asked as we approached the table.

"I could eat you, Tina" joked my Uncle.

As is often the case Uncle's joke cleared the air, my nervousness faded, I was immediately more relaxed. Uncle held the chair for me, then sat opposite me. He was still staring.

"Really - er - Tina. You look gorgeous, no, I mean it. If I didn't know I would definitely be attracted to such an attractive woman. And a good cook too!"

I was thrilled, and we began on our starter dish. The whole meal went so well, Uncle being very charming, paying me compliments, calling me 'Tina' all the way through, topping up my wine for me and so on. As we finished our coffee he stood up and held out his hand. I reached up to take it, and we strolled hand-in-hand into the lounge.

We just sat and talked for a while, me in an armchair, Uncle Jack on the sofa. After about half an hour he got up and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of what was obviously champagne in a small ice bucket, with two glasses. He must have prepared that when he went to the bathroom just after the meal.

"I thought we should celebrate your coming out, Tina"

He poured us two glasses and held mine out, I stood to take it.

"Right, let's do this properly" he said, smiling, taking my arms and linking it to his so we were joined as we sipped the champagne.

We had already finished off the bottle of wine, I was just a little uncertain on my ultra-high heels. I felt his other hand grab my bum to steady me, and I giggled, sipping just a little more. His hand stayed in place and just began to slide up and down a little. His breathing was becoming heavier.

"Jack, you remember you said 'Go for it' if there is something you want to do. Well, what if someone else is involved, if you think they will approve but if you are not totally sure?"

"Well, Tina, if you think they will approve, then the same applies. You have to be ready to say sorry if you are wrong, but..."

I didn't let him finish.

I reached across to him and with my arms round his neck I gently pulled him towards me. It was obvious I was going to kiss him. I looked for any signs of repulsion in his eyes and saw none. Our lips touched very briefly. I backed off.

"Do I need to say sorry?" I asked, looking intently into his eyes again.

He didn't answer, just stood there for a few moments. Then he grasped me firmly in his arms and kissed me again. His lips were soft and warm and extremely inviting, I began to move my mouth against his, to tease his lips, to push my tongue across them, as I did so I felt him respond. His hands moved across my back, he was grabbing my arse cheek again with his left hand, his right slid up to cup my breast.

We separated, both breathing heavily, but I think disturbed by events. I was still holding Uncle Jack's hand.

"Uncle Jack, are you really sure about this? I think we may be getting into something..."

My voice trailed off as I noticed the rather glazed look in his eyes, then he 'came to'.

"Timothy, I mean Tina, I'm not sure..."

Neither of us could express it. I picked up my champagne and sipped again, Uncle Jack followed suit. He sat down on the sofa and shuffled along, leaving room for me. I sat next to him and as I did so the hem of my skirt slid up to reveal my stocking tops, my garter strap, just a glimpse of bare thigh.

"Tina" gasped Jack as his hand slipped across my thigh and up inside my skirt "Christ, you are so hot, I have been horny all evening".

This time I wasn't hesitant, I grabbed the back of his head, my own lips rushed to meet his, we kissed long and hard and with passion this time, our lips playing with each other's, our tongues exploring, our hands groping, Uncle Jack was leaning on top of me, his hand reaching inside my blouse and surrounding the bra cup of my basque.

And I was loving it! The warmth of his passion excited me, to think that I had done this to a man, that he found me, 'Tina', exciting and desirable. My own left hand slid inside his shirt, sliding across his back, feeling the tension, teasing at the hairiness there, digging my nails in. The kiss lasted and lasted - and then finished.

We separated. Maybe Jack was thinking, getting worried, wondering what all this really meant. But I wasn't wondering, I knew. I had felt the swelling between his legs as we had groped each other's body, and smiled at him, looking straight in his eyes, smiling. I leaned over and kissed him again. He 'woke up' again from his dreaming and stared hard into my eyes. Did he see Timothy there, or Tina?

Whichever, my course of action was clear to me, I had come this far, so much farther than I had intended or dreamed of, I had to see it through. I reached down between his legs, and at my red-tipped fingers and began to slowly slide them up and down.

"Er - Tina". Jack had a slow smile spreading across his face. "That is fantastic. But - when we talked about this last week, you said you weren't gay. Well ...."

I enjoyed his joke, last week I had been very uncertain about my own sexuality but now I knew. But then I realised something else.

"Well, Jack, my darling". After that I just couldn't call this man 'Uncle Jack'. "What about you?"

"Me? I'm not gay."

"You could have fooled me."

"No, Tina. I'm a totally heterosexual male. Who is being fondled by a gorgeous sexy woman. At least that's what I still see before me." He grinned again.

I grinned too. I could see his point. I smiled and stood up.

"Do you really think I look sexy, Uncle?" I asked.

"Tina, you look absolutely gorgeous and if you carry on flaunting yourself to me like this I will not be responsible for the consequences"

Which is exactly what I wanted to hear. I snuggled up to him again and we kissed and cuddled , well, more than that, we groped and fondled each other for over half an hour. As we parted after one particularly steamy necking session we looked into each other's eyes. And knew. This was indeed getting dangerous. I decided that would do for tonight and stood up, pulling my skirt down over my stocking tops and tucking my tits back into the cups of the basque once more.

"Well, darling, I'm going to bed."

Which I then did. Back in my own room I reflected on the evening as I stripped and cleansed my face. I just didn't undo the fake boobs, that was going to be too much bother, I would have to sort that out in the morning. I closed my eyes as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don't think I dreamed, but I am sure I slept with a smile on my face.

6 - Saturday

Next morning I woke up early. With an enormous feeling of satisfaction. I cleaned up and showered and shaved well, then found the solvent for the adhesive for my breasts. Wouldn't do to turn up at breakfast bulging like that.

But then I thought to myself - why not? OK, not in jeans and T-shirt, my usual Saturday morning attire. But I could dress again. And why not? On Saturdays I usually got up early and went out to the gym club for an hour's workout. Uncle Jack had enrolled me in the second week of my visit, to give me the chance to keep myself fit and to give him the chance of a lie-in, without feeling guilty he was not providing for his 'guest'. But I could give that a miss, of course I could.

Within two minutes I had scoured the wardrobe and my 'female undies' drawer and had my outfit spread out on the bed, ready. Why not indeed? I had restricted myself to evening times so far, maybe I could get away with it in the daytime too.

I sat at the dresser and, as carefully as the previous day, did my make-up, not quite so glamorously but still attractively, I thought. I used the other set of nails I had bought, scarlet but not so long this time. One of the other pairs of shoes too, I had decided, these were red, still with high-ish heels but not so high. I slid and clipped my wig on, adding a smaller pair of clip earrings, then put on my bra and panties, scarlet this time. This was to be a 'red' day, not a 'black' one. I decided to stick to stockings instead of tights, and clipped them onto my suspender belt. A white blouse, gold necklet, red miniskirt, my red stilettos, I was ready.

I crept down to the kitchen, Uncle was still sleeping, and made coffee, then carried two mugs upstairs and went into his bedroom. I put the mugs on the bedside table and sat on the bed. Uncle was disturbed a little, he stirred. I leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

"Good morning, darling, I've brought you some coffee."

Jack sat up and looked at me. He sipped slowly.

"I stirred a few minutes ago - I wondered if last night was all a dream, but now I see it wasn't. Does this indicate some sort of decision on your part - Tina - dressing first thing in the morning? You said you were only confident in evenings, not in full daylight."

BethanyJ
BethanyJ
463 Followers