cd-stories

[cd-stories]

A Year with Aunt Rose

I was about to graduate from grade school, 14 years old and ready to conquer the world. Mom and Dad said I had an attitude problem. I saw it as more of an expression of independence. Well, they were going to Europe for a year because of Dad’s job and I was to stay with Aunt Rose. She was my father’s sister and had bankrolled his import business. He pretty much did things her way or not at all even though he was president of the company. I rather saw that as whimping out on his part but he was my dad and I had to respect that and all the money he made anyway.

As soon as I was free the 5th of June, Mom and Dad were off to New York and London and who knows where else. Well, that was fine with me. I could use a break from parental supervision. I was a dyed in the wool slob and enjoyed it immensely. You know, sneakers, hole in the knee jeans, tee shirt, long, dirty hair, the hoop earring in the left ear, the usual. Aunt Rose was pretty bossy though and I admit that I was a little afraid of her too. She was sufficiently larger than I was so she could probably put a hurt on me. She seemed kind enough when I was dropped off at her place though. I think that may have just been to fake me out though.

The first clue that I got that things were going to be different for me with Aunt Rose was that she was a neat freak. Everything had to be just so. Everything in it’s place and a place for everything. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t follow that rule very well. I mean, after all, just look at me. It seems I just couldn’t leave anything alone or put it back where it came from and that bugged Aunt Rose something awful. She said, “I’m afraid we are going to have to teach you how to be a little neater about things Keenan.” “Whatever! Give it your best shot Aunt Rose.” Not that I was flippant or anything!

July 4th: She said since I was so messy that I would have to learn to clean up around the house and gain an appreciation for what ‘clean’ and ‘orderly’ meant. OK. I cleaned. I didn’t like it but I did it. I learned with corrections at every turn how to dust and run the vacuum and wash windows without streaking them. The worst part was the bathrooms. I hated getting down and cleaning the bowls but Aunt Rose was one of those ‘spotless’ people and there was only one right way to do things, HER way. I admit there was a certain degree of pride to be taken in a job well done. The reason I noticed was that I guess I never really did anything really well before, especially school, but I learned how to clean house really well. The only problem with that was that she made me wear a frilly pinafore apron while I was doing all my housework and any time I had my hands in water, she made me wear rubber gloves “so you won’t ruin your pretty nails” she said. What did I care about my nails anyway? Besides, they weren’t very pretty, at least not at first.

And she was somewhat of a health nut too. She had some herbal concoction that she made me take every day along with some others she got at the store. She said it would help me adjust and boost my immune system. What did I have to adjust to besides her infernal neatness? You wouldn’t believe the ingredients. She ground them all up and put them in big capsules and I had to take 8 a day. They had, let me see, anise, black cohosh, castleberry, fenugreek and licorice root and eye of newt and lizard tongues for all I knew. Can you believe it? She said the fenugreek would help keep me regular, which I must admit, it did. The rest of them? Who knows? All I noticed was that my skin seemed to be a little smoother and clearer and after a few weeks I did feel a bit mellower about dressing decent and staying clean. She made me begin putting some kind of stuff on my face before I went to bed at night. It was creamy and smelled nice and sank into my skin and lo and behold, soon my teen aged acne was gone. My complexion took on a new, soft, glowing appearance. It was kind of nice not having a pimply face for a change. That part I enjoyed.

It was pretty wild at the dinner table too. She corrected me at every turn. I thought Mom and Dad were something, but Aunt Rose told me how to bite and chew and how to sit and how to place and use my napkin and everything. Talk about nit picking!! Of course, I also learned how to set a proper table in the process, clear it and load the dishwasher. That was when I learned how to stoop from my knees rather than from my waist when I spilled something on the kitchen floor. It WAS so much more convenient for loading the washer too. I was really grateful for her teaching me that little trick because I had hurt my back riding my bike and sometimes it bothered me. You can’t bend over from the waist for very long without your back hurting at least not MY back. The only problem with bending down like that was I had to pick things up sideways but being so close to whatever it was, it was rather easier and she was right, it was easier on my back. I thought I was supposed to be on vacation and here I was employed for no wages as apprentice housekeeper and laundress. Well, I felt like a laundress with that apron on, especially over my shorts. Made me look like I was wearing a damn skirt and yes, I did laundry too, learning what went with what and about temperatures and delicates and all! I had never handled women’s underwear before. It was very nice and silky. I had no idea how nice it was until then. No wonder girls like it so much. It IS very nice to the touch. I tried to touch it a few times when I had a date but only got slapped for my efforts.

Well, she kept me at the cleaning until I actually got pretty good at it and it took me hardly any time at all compared to when I started. But gee, was I going to spend my whole summer in the house? I’d even gotten used to the apron. It wasn’t so bad I guess and it did accomplish the impossible. It kept me clean. Not that she insisted that I stay inside all the time. She offered on numerous occasions to take me shopping with her but if her shopping was anything like my Mom’s, I’d never survive it. I mean, in a shop, try on this and that and out again over and over. Boy, women sure do like to shop and buy clothes and shoes and jewelry and all that stuff. My idea of shopping is see it, go in and buy it and get the heck out of there.

August 2nd: Aunt Rose has been on me about my hair. She said to either have it cut or keep it clean and style it. Well, I like my hair and I like it long and wasn’t about to have it cut so I agreed to keep it clean, grudgingly. I should have known when she said ‘clean,’ she meant shiny, sparkly, squeaky clean. What she meant by ‘style it,’ I didn’t know. Aunt Rose had long hair herself and offered to show me how to take proper care of it so what the heck, it was her time and shampoo. She taught me all about taking care for long hair and how to shampoo and condition it and made me give it a hot oil soak once a week. I’ll have to admit it really looked great, nice and shiny and had a lot of body too, a lot too much for a boy, I think. I could have done an ad for one of those women’s hair shampoos as pretty as my hair had gotten. I could swing it around like they do in those shampoo ads too, downright fluffy it was.

It made me feel a little sexy sometimes as it swung across my shoulders if I wore a tank top. Every night I’d have to sit there and brush it to bring out the oils, she said. Long hair takes time, she said. Do it right or not at all was her motto. No wonder I never wanted to keep it nice before but then, I had all summer, only school would be starting soon and I knew she wasn’t going to let up on the hair or anything else. She seemed absolutely relentless about my grooming and deportment. I suppose it wasn’t too bad but I was beginning to have some doubts about myself lately. I felt, I don’t know, different somehow but just couldn’t put my finger on it. I think I was acting differently too, I don’t quite understand it!

She seemed pleased with my efforts and gave me some nice ties to keep my hair back and so I began having a pretty ribbon with a bow in it around my pony tails and sometimes I wore them up instead of down. I know that’s how girls wear them but I liked the way it bounced and swung around that way and I knew that European men wore ribbons in their hair. It was so clean and shiny and bouncy. I don’t know. I just liked it up sometimes. Aunt Rose said it looked real cute up in a pony tail. One night she had me come into her room and sat me down at her vanity table and proceeded to play with it. She brushed it forward and back combed it and parted it in the middle. Then she brought some forward and cut it straight across my brow and let the rest fall to the sides. “Doesn’t that look nice, Keenan?” “Well, yes Aunt Rose, it looks great but wow, bangs and everything and parted in the middle. I almost look like a girl with this nice top on.” “Oh, you just look very well groomed. Don’t be silly, she said.” ‘Ok, so I DON’T look like a girl. Whatever!’ I sure looked ‘different’ somehow. It was hard to put my finger on it or for that matter, how I felt about it.

As far as I was concerned, I was beginning to look darned feminine to go along with all my girlish chores. I didn’t mind helping Aunt Rose out but these feelings I was having were most peculiar. I believe I was becoming accustomed to the gentler side of life and continued handling of Aunt Rose’s lingerie was having a peculiar effect on me, like, I actually caught myself wondering what it felt like to wear something so soft and silky. I noticed I wasn’t complaining about stuff any more like I did when I first came there. I just sort of accepted things now as they were.

It was about this time that I seemed to be having a reaction to the herbs. I felt a little light headed and my chest was sore. I hadn’t taken much notice of it before but it had been going on for a while so subtly that I hadn’t taken any notice except for the itching. Aunt Rose suggested maybe I should quit the herbs and get my vitamins from the pharmacy. She was giving me other stuff too like vitamin C and Algae, Calmag and some other things. She said that whatever she did, she was not having my parents coming back and finding me sick. I really didn’t like taking that stuff with the weird names that she concocted, and so was just as happy when she came home with something else from the drug store and began giving me vitamin shots once a week and I had to only take some of the previous pills and two little brown pills a day from then on. What a relief, and they didn’t taste bad at all. They were coated with some stuff. I think something in that mix made me a little sick too for a few days. Every morning I wanted to heave but after about five days, it went away and I felt fine and my hair and skin never looked better. I was amazed to find myself liking to take care of my hair now. Gee, I never thought I’d like having pretty hair.

Aunt Rose was not one for sloppy dress either. I had come to her in torn blue jeans and a tee shirt. That situation rapidly evolved and she had me wearing dressier clothes around the house like she did and certainly whenever we went out. By the end of July, she had me in nice slacks in various colors and fabrics some of which felt very nice next to my softer skin, some I’m afraid with no zipper or one in the back and even one pair with the zipper on the side, tailored shirts in soft, silky fabrics and really neat, amazingly lightweight loafers with a low cut top down near my toes and low wedge or built up heels. I really think they looked a little girlish but they felt really good and made my feet look smaller, not that they were really big or anything. I really think I was walking a little differently, especially in the slightly built up heels but I found I really liked the higher ones better for some reason. They seemed to feel ‘natural’ and I rather enjoyed the way they fit and felt on my feet although the thought did cross my mind that these shoes made my feet look ‘pretty’. Everything was rather form fitting though and accentuated my small waist and my hips. I didn’t even know I HAD hips. You know what I mean. We all have them but mine were getting sort of roundish and filled my slacks rather well and it wasn’t just that. I was putting on fat all over except my waist. My pelvis seemed like it was actually growing wider, the bones even felt very different. I realized I was going through puberty and all but had no idea a boy’s hips got wider then. Well, you know what I mean. I came to appreciate my pretty aprons as I didn’t want to get my nicer clothes dirty. I guess better shirts button differently too but I learned to love how they looked and felt so silky next to my skin and seemed to flow with my movements, graceful, you know? I got so I didn’t like wearing undershirts with them even though the silky fabric made my nipples stand out.

My bummy old blue jeans became history. She threw them out. Aunt Rose would help me with the housework but I did the washing too. Since I did the washing, I had apparently gotten an appreciation for keeping myself clean too. She taught me how to separate things and how to treat various fabrics, how to fold and what to fold and what to iron. Oh yes, she taught me how to iron too. I found that once I understood how to flatten things and maneuver sleeves and what temperatures to use, it wasn’t so bad but that was a painful experience nonetheless.

I scorched one of her blouses and she punished me. She put these two little hoops on my ears to remind me to be more careful in the future and they hurt like blazes until the next morning. Then, I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t figure out how to do it and Aunt Rose refused to help and just complimented me on how nice I looked in my navy blue slacks, sky blue short sleeved top with a low vee neck and navy blue stripy wedge heeled sandals and the matching blue scrunchy in my hair. They were leather shoes, and with all kinds of padding in them. They were very comfortable to work in though and they made my feet look really tiny and cute. They were nice enough sandals. I’ll bet a girl would never have worn them without painting her toenails though and I had a flash of what mine might look like painted. Gee, what made me entertain painting my toenails? Well, let’s face it, they WERE tiny but the size inside said seven.

I didn’t think I took that large a shoe. At 13, I was only 5'4" tall and could have sworn my size was smaller. Aunt Rose was a good three inches taller and her feet were just a little bigger, I think. She got me a new pair of loafers too. They weren’t so well padded but they were comfortable even though they did have a built up heel on them. It must have been about 2 or 2 ½ inches but it was a blocky heel and I had no problem walking in them. They were almost as heavy as my hiking boots and the heel height was just about the same as cowboy boots. She told me I should have them because it was good for my calf muscles to vary my heel height during the day since I was on my feet so much. That made perfect sense to me although I could have sworn I had seen the same shoe on a few girls around town. Then it occurred to me that girl’s legs always looked nicer in high heels. I wondered if mine did too but then, nobody could see them with pants on and two inches wasn’t that high anyway. Cowboy boots were every bit that high. I wondered what my legs looked like from someone else’s point of view. Now, why in the world did I even care about that? I never had before!

Aunt Rose was rather attractive and she did have a way with clothes and cosmetics. She knew how to look her best. Apparently, she wanted me to look my best too. Well, that was OK I guess, as long as she was paying for the clothes. I was almost beginning to LIKE looking nice. It did give me a little sense of pride to know I looked nice. It was a far cry from jeans and tee shirts and I began to take a certain pride in my neat and orderly appearance and I must have spent at least a half hour on my hair every day. She said I was really lucky that is wasn’t dead straight like most boys. It fell in soft waves down to my shoulders and turned under a little bit. It seemed to be getting very full and thick lately but maybe that was just because of the conditioners.

September 1st: I start back to school next week. Aunt Rose has gotten me a whole new wardrobe both for school and home. The school clothes are very nice but they make me look a little odd, I think. Some of the older boys looked at me strangely for a awhile but after a couple weeks they got over it. Maybe it was that they had never seen a boy with manners before who knew how to dress and look nice for school. She certainly had drilled all of that into me about how to conduct myself and how to dress and move and everything. Most of them certainly didn’t bother with themselves. A couple of them asked me if I had gone to a Catholic grade school because of my dressing and hair style. I just told them my aunt was very fashion conscious and strict. She certainly had taught me how to be a gentleman and I do mean with the accent on ‘gentle.’ My movements seemed different to me, somehow smoother, less abrupt and jerky, more fluid I guess you’d say like a dancer maybe. Perhaps even a little feminine but somehow, even thought that should have bothered me, it didn’t. This was a new school for me and the kids didn’t know the old, sloppy me. Those two inch heels made me walk a little differently too as I noticed that I had to sway my hips a little more although they were hard to notice as my slacks were just the right length. I liked the way my friend Janice walked in hers and I think I copied her walk.

Mostly my school clothing consisted of nice slacks in various patterns, fabrics and colors, a silk shirt in various colors and maybe a gold chain or two and a pair of loafers over thin, knee high hose. She never let me wear sneakers anymore. Maybe it was the earrings and long hair that put them off at first along with the gold bracelet and the smallish wrist watch. Well, they were earrings and even though they were a punishment, I had come to like them. Now I had two in the left ear and one in the right. I liked to see that little glint of light on them when I tossed my head or looked in the mirror. They had little diamonds that slid around on them as they moved. Aunt Rose had gotten me a few other styles and showed me how to put them in and take them out, even some pretty dangle ones. She told me the ones she put on me were self piercing and that’s why they hurt so much. And the wrist watch, well, a full sized men’s would look ridiculous on my tiny wrist anyway. I wasn’t any bigger than most of the girls in my class.

I had some really pretty studs now that I wore to school and several pairs of dangles that I wore at home. I don’t know why I let her talk me into those but they were very pretty and I loved the feel of them as they brushed my neck as they swung and I had seen dangles on some men on TV but I was a little afraid to wear them to school. It was really odd how my feelings about my appearance had changed since Aunt Rose had shown me the difference between slob and well groomed. Sometimes I’d even put my hair up so I could see them better although Aunt Rose preferred it down, cascading about my shoulders. I’m glad she cut in those bangs. I wouldn’t be able to see otherwise I think. One time, she saw me with my hair up in a pony tail and asked if I would like to try something else, a different way of putting it up. “Sure, why not?” I said. So she proceeded to teach me how to do a braid from my crown back. She told me I could tie it off with a scrunchy or a ribbon but to be honest the ribbon looked nicer. I remember that’s how the men used to do it in colonial days. So I started tying it up in all colors of ribbons to match what I was wearing on top. I had to admit, I did have pretty hair now. It was odd to think how I had come to think of my hair and feet as pretty. I did love the way that braid looked on me and had gotten used to wearing the dressier shoes.

A lot of the ‘at home’ clothes consisted of handsome tops that had a sort of self attached neck tie that was tied in a bow or that I could tie like a regular necktie. Auntie said they were the kind of top that 19th century poets used to wear. I’d wear slacks and a couple of them were designed so full that they actually looked like skirts I’m afraid. I think she called them Palatzo Pants or something. And unless I wore a somewhat higher built up heel, they dragged on the carpet. They sure had a lot of material in them and flowed all over the place when I walked. My newest sandals had a higher wedge heel with a single wide strap across my toes. I guess they must have been at least 3" high. They were cute. I felt a little guilty when I thought about painting my toes. I guess that was what wearing a long skirt felt like although I’d never had a skirt on in my life. Then that thought about what my legs would look like in a skirt crossed my mind. What is the matter with me? First I’m thinking lingerie and now a skirt and I’m enjoying 3" heels?

She got me some new night wear too, mostly nightshirt types, very silky and they came just below my knees except one that came all the way to my ankles and had long sleeves. It seemed to be a heavy satin. I thought that would come in handy in the winter. The fit was grand and loose and they hung somewhat from my chest as well as my shoulders. How strange. I thought my chest was flat but it seemed I was poking out some there along with my wider pelvis that seemed to force me to walk differently than I used to. No matter. At least they didn’t have pockets for breasts in them so I knew they couldn’t be girl’s nighties. Oh, they did have some pretty lace on them but Auntie pointed out that 19th century men wore a great deal of lace, a fact I knew to be true as I’d seen many pictures of them. They were very nice and I thanked her profusely because they felt so neat. She got me a nice quilted robe too.

October 1: Aunt Rose has been at me every day about how I sit and stand and walk and talk. It feels like she’s training me to become King or something, you know, Regal? I’m sure she only wants the best for me but she is at me about every nuance of my disposition lately. She wants me to sit down and rise slowly, gracefully, and not just plop into a chair and she wants me to stand with my feet together and cross my legs slowly at the knee when I sit or at worst, my ankles and to keep my knees together when I sit and arise. She won’t let me sit with my one ankle resting on my knee any more. Whatever could that matter when I was wearing pants? I could understand that if I wore skirts but I don’t.

She even made me carry a book around on my head for a whole week at home until my walk smoothed out with my high heels on. She said I was too ‘bouncy’, whatever that means. Said I’d never be able to be a waiter and carry a tray if I didn’t smooth out my walk. I really didn’t fancy becoming a waiter but I smoothed out the walk nonetheless as I realized that we may have guests and I might be the one serving them. Just to prove her point, she’d have me load up a complete service for one person on large platter with a drink and everything and take it to the table and back to the kitchen when we were done eating. You know, she was right. I had to learn to take a little smaller steps to but if I hadn’t smoothed out the walk and learned to move my hips gracefully, I’d have spilled the drinks every time. The trick was learning to keep my upper body quiet while I let my hips take up the balancing. This also caused me to learn to walk in smaller steps with my feet close together and more in a straight line.

She taught me the proper way to get in and out of a car too, placing my rump in first and swinging my legs in afterwards and then reversing it on exit. I never even knew there WAS a right or wrong way but that made it so easy, I wondered why I’d never thought of it myself. I suppose Mom and Dad would have shown me all this but they weren’t’ around now. She showed me how to take small bites instead of a mouthful, said it was bad etiquette to take such big bites as though I were a wolf devouring a carcass, and chew slowly and with my mouth shut. Now there’s something I never heard of before. I used to gulp everything down and just began to realize that I never really enjoyed my meals before. They were just necessary evils to be gotten over with as quickly as possible. But eating slowly and politely gave me time to really enjoy the meal and taste the food. Eating wasn’t such a bore anymore. It was time for small bites and conversation. She was teaching me how to socialize during a meal. It was rather fun not to just sit down to gobble and go.

I’ve been here six months now and I must be doing too much at home because my body is sore and despite all the work, I seem to be getting soft. My chest is tender and my slacks are getting pretty tight, so tight in fact that I’m a little uncomfortable in them, my underwear included. I really didn’t eat all that much and couldn’t understand why I’d be putting on weight, especially on my bum. I mentioned this to Aunt Rose and she came up with a solution.

She got me special underpants to wear that kept my boy things up and out of the way, not that it amounted to much lately, didn’t even seem to want to rise to the occasion but that garment certainly has made it easier for me to cross my legs at the knee and it gives me a nice smooth line in front. There’s no more bulge there to get in the way of crossing my legs and it’s ever so much more comfortable and looks nicer in all my slacks now too. The only problem with them is that I have to sit to pee since there’s no placket even if the slacks have a front zipper.

Well, I can get used to it I suppose except now I have to wipe in front as well as back as I was never well developed and now I appeared to be losing ground. My slacks are a size nine and when she got them for me, they were nice and loose. Now I more or less fill them completely although my waistline didn’t seem to expand along with everything else. If anything, it’s getting smaller. Well, what the heck. I’m not through growing yet, I’m sure.

October 31: Aunt Rose lives in a rather posh neighborhood and the young girl about my age a few houses up was having a Halloween party. She invited me either out of courtesy to Aunt Rose or because I was in her class, I don’t know which. I didn’t really have a costume but Aunt Rose came to the rescue again.

She borrowed an evening gown, did up my hair in a chignon and made my hair really pretty with beads wound into it and I wore matching long dangle earrings and full dramatic evening makeup too. She got me a pair of matching white pumps with 3 inch slender heels and taught me how to walk and dance in them for a few days before the party. I had always thought that slender high heels must be difficult to manage but was pleasantly surprised to find that these were quite comfortable and I really didn’t mind wearing them for an evening at all. I thought they made my feet look really sexy. My real problem was that I seemed to be rather enjoying these lovely garments and the way they made me feel. By the time the party came around, I suppose I had become rather expert at walking in them so as to not give myself away too soon. My new sandals were that high of course but they didn’t have so small a landing zone. I suppose it was just that the heel was so slender and feminine that worried me but my ankles soon adapted and the little soreness in my calves left too.

The day of the party, she gave me a manicure, shaping my now longer nails with very red polish and also a pedicure with matching polish. I couldn’t wait to see how my toes looked in my sandals now. It had been quite a while since I had cut my nails and wearing the rubber gloves had certainly kept them nice and strong, not to mention long. She shaped them just like a girl’s at least a ¼" beyond my finger tips and I can’t tell you how it felt to have such pretty hands and feet. It was weird how I reacted to this. It was just part of the costume of course, but it did give me a little thrill. Well, I want to tell you I was scared to death but turned out to be the belle of the ball. It was a blast.

I’d never really been popular and I’d never danced with a boy before and they didn’t have a clue as to who the fox in the gown was until the unmasking and then, they didn’t believe it. Let me rephrase that. They didn’t WANT to believe it! The boys were so embarrassed by some things they said to me in front of witnesses that I just knew I was going to be quite safe in school in spite of this little deception. They had lined up to dance with me and their reputations would be ruined if I spilled the beans on them. The attention was quite flattering and I’m afraid I rather enjoyed it. Naturally, I did my best pretense at being a real girl so as to pull off the masquerade successfully and was very apologetic to the boys for fooling them. I really played it to the hilt with the gentle voice and all. The girls were amazed at not only who I was but that I did such a wonderful job of fooling everybody. I had to admit that I really did make a passably pretty girl and the girls seemed to warm to me after the unmasking. I had never been popular but I was that night.

Auntie Rose and I had quite a discussion when I got home about how I had enjoyed myself and about all the boys I danced with. She seemed very pleased that I had such a good time. It was a great deal of fun although I must admit my emotions were somewhat on a roller coaster, feeling giggly and elated on one hand and a bit embarrassed on the other, first for having such a wonderful time being a girl for the evening and secondly, especially when in the arms of a big, strong, handsome, he-man type and feeling very submissive, like a real girl I suppose. It was rather easy to forget I was a boy when a big handsome guy was twirling me around the dance floor.

November 30: Now that Aunt Rose has my manners corrected and my mannerisms straightened out, she’s decided to work on my grooming again. I must admit my hair has become quite long and full bodied and she said she just couldn’t resist doing something with it. It’s down to my shoulder blades now. I had no idea what she meant but she hadn’t hurt me so far, except for the self piercers and that was my fault. Since Halloween, the kids at school have gotten used to the new me. I’ve caught some of the boys looking at me like they do the girls. Have my nice clothes and new manners given me the flavor of a girl? That’s a little unnerving. Could that be lust I see? Heaven forbid. Some of them are really cute though.

She sat me down and wet and wound, clipped and otherwise messed with my hair until she had it all up on curlers. I must have been a sight. I protested, “Auntie, boys don’t put their hair up like this!” “Maybe so, but yours is so very pretty, I just can’t keep my hands off it. I’m sorry if it upsets you but I think you will like the way it looks when it’s done.” While it dried, there were other things to attend to. My manicure never quite resumed it’s boyish charm and my nails remained rather rounded although just a little longer and then longer until they protruded a good 3/8 of an inch and they always now had a coat or two of hardener on them to ‘protect’ them, she said. They were quite pretty even with only the clear polish I now wore daily.

I had gotten used to wearing white hose to school. Actually, I’d always worn white hose to school. I remember when men wore knee high hose and attached it to garters about their knees. My grand dad wore those. And I remember that in the 1940s boys wore knickers with high socks too. Apparently someone had a better idea. The ones I wore now were rather more sheer, I think, and were held up just by elastic below the knee. Some even had pretty patterns in them. I could see my toenails through them and had thought how much nicer they would look if they were in a pair of open toed sandals with sheer, tan hose at school like the girls wore. Aunt Rose had let me keep them painted ever since the party. The scruffy lad who had landed on her doorstep never would have allowed her to paint his toes but I was no longer that scruffy lad. I was much more gentile.

While in the midst of that thought, Auntie interrupted by telling me that she had gotten me a few pairs of casual shoes for at home and school and placed four boxes in front of me while we waited for my hair to dry. I kicked off my shoes and gleefully opened the first. They were a nice, soft loafer with about a two inch blocky wedge heel and a woven vamp in a little lighter color, just perfect for around the house, maybe even out shopping or school. I tried them on and walked around a bit. They were very comfortable. The second was a pair of summer sandals. They were very nice in white leather with several ½" straps across the vamp with a large opening for my pretty painted toes and then an ankle strap and buckle attached to the sling back. They had a crepe sole and a wedge heel also although not quite as high. The name on the inside said ‘Cobbie Cuddlers.’

The third pair was a pair of pumps like men used to wear to the opera. I’ve seen them in older movies. I guess that’s where the expression ‘opera pump’ came from. They were simply an open slip on like a girl’s skimmer flat but with about a ¾" shaped heel. They were very handsome in patent leather and, considering what was to come, may indeed have been girl’s skimmers but I really don’t think I cared at this point. The vamp was cut very low, so low that they actually showed a little of the cleavage between my big toe and the next one. They would look good with either my black or my light green slacks with sheer hose and were very cute though. I loved how they made my feet look.

And then it hit me: these ARE girl’s skimmer flats and I LIKE them. I think I’m really in trouble! The last box I’m afraid, was a bit more disturbing, more of a shock, really. I had tried on all the others and liked them. I did not know if I should try these on nor whether I should be prepared to like them and wondered what Auntie must have been thinking when she bought them. They were also pumps, very fashionably cut, with about a 3" contemporary women’s heel like the ones I had worn to the party. They were obviously lovely women’s pumps and even though I had loved my evening as a girl for the Halloween party, I didn’t know what to say or do. These were for wearing with dresses and skirts. They were downright sexy. “Auntie!”, I cried. “I can’t. These are far too pretty for a boy. They belong with a skirt or a pretty dress and I have nothing to wear them with.” She just smiled. That was certainly a lame comment on my part, I thought. I simply loved them. I just had a hard time admitting it. Oh, I felt my boy self slipping away. Keenan was in trouble.

On the other hand, the thought of wearing such pretty shoes as a natural part of my everyday costume excited me beyond reason. I blushed and my pert and swollen nipples got very hard and I had a series of strange pulsating contracting sensations between my legs. It was really difficult to describe. I felt flushed, very flushed. Seeing my hesitancy, Auntie suggested, “please, won’t you try those on too? They are quite lovely aren’t they?” I slowly put them on my feet. The fit was perfect. I stood up, saying nothing. Oh my gawd, I thought, I’m reveling in real femininity, my very own first pair of high heels. What is happening to me? I love them! “Oh, Auntie, they are adorable. Thank you” I heard myself say in much too girlish a tone and inflection. There went that pulsating again. That feels nice!

I walked confidently to the other side of the room and back with no difficulty at all, having had plenty of practice on Halloween, gliding and undulating my hips as was appropriate in such foot wear as she had taught me before and I’m afraid I had been doing ever since no matter what shoes I had on. It was at that moment that I realized that my gait had developed into that of a young lady and I had little, if any, control over it. I had truly copied Janice’s walk. I now walked just like my girlfriends. I talked like my girlfriends. No wonder the boys were looking at me and small wonder I had found so much acceptance among the girls. I traced it back in my mind to all my practice with the trays of food. I no longer strode. I walked…gracefully, shamefully for a boy, I suppose.

I confess, I did love my new high heels and decided then and there that I should keep them and enjoy them even though they made me feel terribly fragile and feminine. It was a divine, sensual feeling like none I’d had in my young life. I wasn’t so young anymore that I didn’t know what erotic meant and these shoes made me feel erotic. I confess I was having great difficulty feeling like a real boy anymore. I was so much more emotional and expressive than I used to be. Perhaps I had become a sissy, but then, boys wouldn’t be looking at me like they were if they just saw me as a sissy. They were not leering in disgust. It was a feeling far superior to the masturbating that I had recently discovered but that did not produce near the excitement the pumps or my softening chest did. But yet, in the back of my mind, I felt that I was doing wrong, something that was not considered ‘normal’. Perhaps I wasn’t ‘normal’ anymore. Perhaps I didn’t care.

I decided to keep them on though, much to Auntie’s delight. I spent the rest of the evening in that costume and confess that I must have spent more time than usual passing a full length mirror, primping with my new hairdo, straightening my blouse or admiring my new pumps. I was terribly aware of my girlishness that night and confess that it gave me a sense of freedom and power to be able to express myself openly this way. All that was missing was the lovely makeup that I wore to the party and that pretty girl would be back.

Auntie seemed to be smiling a lot that night. She was also very cordial although she continued to point out the flaws in my deportment when they occurred, which were far less to the point she rarely criticized me anymore. I loved the view I got of my pumps when I crossed my legs and crossed and uncrossed them a lot that night. What was going on in my mind that I should be so fond of feminine foot wear or clothing? I hadn’t a clue. Perhaps it was the wonderful feel of the clothing she had gotten me or perhaps it was that I was now less opposed to what might be called ‘feminine’ clothing as I surely loved the pumps and they were surely the ultimate in feminine clothing. But then, I was reasonably sure that everything that Auntie bought me was girl’s clothing. Did she know something I didn’t about how my puberty was going to turn out? Were there options I hadn’t heard about? Why was I so curvy? Why was I excited about the fat accumulating on my chest and bottom? None of the other boys had bodies like mine.

I told her about my sore chest and she suggested that I take off my cotton tee shirt and put on a satin one. Apparently she had foreseen the problem and had gotten me some really nice new silky undershirts. They were ever so much softer and gentler to my chest but instead of the wide straps of some, they had little rope type straps or stretch lacy ones or cap sleeves that held them up. I’d never seen anything like them before. She got them for me in an array of pretty colors and styles and I admit that just looking at myself in my control panties and new Tee shirts, I still looked very girlish and it gave me a certain giddiness. They were very light and I hardly knew I had them on but they did accentuate the bumps on my chest.

“What are these called, Auntie?” “They are a ‘camisole’ dear. It’s an old English word for a silk undershirt.” “Oh, I see.” “There are a couple other styles you may want to try called ‘chemise’ and ‘teddy’. I got you a couple of those too. I’m afraid they have a good bit of lace on them though and chemises are really to be worn with a dress. They are like a very short slip.” “Thank you Auntie.” The camisoles were rather plain but the chemise and teddies were resplendent with lovely lace as well as pockets for my ‘breasts’. And I was getting flushed again as there now seemed to be a little bit of something to put into those pockets and suddenly and without warning the thought ran through my head how nice they would look if I WERE truly filled out like a GIRL! What a terrifying and delightful thought! Talk about mixed emotions! Why was I thinking about dresses and high heels and boys and breasts?

I told Aunt Rose she could get rid of my cotton tee shirts and, in fact, anything I had that was cotton. These were so much nicer and they felt wonderful under my silky tops, shirts, blouses, whatever they were. But not only were the new undershirts softer, I myself was softer, not only in my body but in my speech and in my manner. Perhaps I was also ‘softer’ in my mind, not that I was losing it or was weaker in spirit, but that I was becoming a much gentler person under the care of my Aunt.

I was no longer, if I had ever been, what my peers would call ‘masculine’ at all or anything resembling the rough and boyish slob that arrived on her doorstep. My top and bottom both seemed to have a mind of their own and my arms, well, if they ever had any defined muscles, they didn’t now. They had become slender and unmuscular. I remember that I used to have little maybe 5/8" pink areola (I had to ask Aunt Rose what they were called) on my flat little chest but now they were at least an inch and ½ “ across and turning from pink to brown and becoming awfully fleshy in the bargain. My chest was no longer flat. I protruded noticeably and my pretty nighties hung down from those protrusions rather than my shoulders now!

I’m not so sure it would be fair to even call it a chest any more. I guess that was why I looked so nice in my new underwear. In fact, I swear there were girls in my class who were not so well endowed as I seemed to be and they were careful to be wearing a bra to uplift their tender young bosoms. It flashed through my mind that a bra might not even look at all out of place on my own chest. It was almost like I was growing a lovely feminine bosom to go along with my widening hips and heavier fanny. What a strange thought, a thought that made me tingle with a strange, forbidden delight. Was I growing tits? Apparently, I WAS and the appropriate desires that went with them too I’m afraid! No wonder I thought some of those boys were cute!

When Aunt Rose saw this, she wrote a note to the school and I was excused from gym class permanently. It WAS a bit embarrassing having my chest bounce around up and down and back and forth while I played basketball. It also hurt a bit every time I came down on the floor hard and the other boys in the locker room were having a great deal of fun at my expense.

They made remarks and they stared but they didn’t abuse me.

A few of them were teasing me in a very odd way, almost like they tease with a girl they are flirting with. I would have to cover my nipples with my hands then to cover my obvious excited embarrassment, small is it was. You might think that my reaction would have been an erection. Not so. Indeed, not possible. If I had to give you a size for comparison, I would have to say that my ‘chest’ had grown to about the size of two half navel oranges plus, of course, my distended nipples that now responded every time I became excited. Lately, all I had to do was touch them and washing my ‘chest’ in the tub had lately become arousing.

She finished with the curlers and took them out and brushed my hair again back combing it some but now it fell in soft and tighter waves instead of just gentle ones. It looked very nice and full, I thought, and I thanked her for putting in the time and effort to make me look nice. “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “It gives me pleasure to see you looking so ‘handsome.” We had a pleasant Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings and she let me help her prepare it. I forgot to tell you that she was letting me help her with the cooking now too. I was never one to volunteer for work before coming to live with her but now I seemed to want to know just everything about running a home.

She said I had become quite ‘handy’ around the house. I suppose I had at that. I found I rather liked cooking and I just LOVED to bake! Since it was a special occasion, before dinner was served, I went to my room and put on my Palazzo pants with a lacy blouse and some flesh colored hose and my new high heeled dress pumps. As I slipped them onto my feet and stood up, I at once became excited again as it was just like having a long skirt on with my heels. Suddenly, the thought of wearing a real skirt or a dress and makeup again was tantalizing and provoked another round of giddy excitement but after a few seconds I was able to return to the table in my pants and white blouse without arousing suspicion in Aunt Rose about the way I was feeling. I just felt so terribly girlish and grown up in hose and high heels. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that I had indeed become quite girlish and was unashamedly loving it although I certainly couldn’t explain it. Puberty was really a strange time, I guess.

I had always been rather a layabout at home but here I was more useful and actually enjoying it. Imagine that! I did, of course, realize by this time that absolutely everything that I had learned would ordinarily be considered to be strictly in a young girl’s domain but I didn’t mind. I was much more serene now and I was enjoying all the lovely things that Aunt Rose had taught me and the soft and pleasant clothing that she had gotten me. It seemed that the wearing of all this pretty clothing was having quite an effect on my mind. I truly now enjoyed it and wondered if I could give it up when Mom and Dad came home.

I just loved my new pumps. They made me feel so much more grown up.

December 5th: Pearl Harbor Day. It was an infamous day in history. As young as I was I could not understand why the Japanese had done that to us. I was glad we were friends again though. It’s silly to hold a grudge forever. Well, Christmas was coming and I had already gotten Aunt Rose a gift that I thought she’d like. It was a matching set of ceramic necklace and earrings. She had similar ones so I hoped she would like them.

I had no idea how lavish my Christmas was to be. I came downstairs in my satin nightie with the bow on the left shoulder and mules and house coat on Christmas morning but pretty soon Aunt Rose had me trying all sorts of things on. She told me to go back upstairs and get myself into a matching pair of panties and a chemise and come back down. I think she got me a little of everything: slacks and shoes and hose and underwear and shirts and earrings, chains and bracelets. That was the first pile.

I noticed that the shirts buttoned the same way hers did and asked her if they were really shirts. “Well, no honey, they are blouses but your chest isn’t really built for shirts anymore. You certainly must have noticed how nice your ‘chest’ is beginning to look in your nighties and underwear. You’re still growing. You need more room in there and blouses are made with extra roomy chests. You DO seem to have done some lovely growing there honey.” “Boy, have I ever Aunt Rose. I just can’t understand it. I’m so flabby it’s like I actually have breasts or something. The night you gave me the pretty shoes, I had a flash of how this chest would look in a pretty satin and lace bra. Isn’t that wild?” “Not so wild dear.”

“Perhaps you should treat them like breasts then and see how you like it,” she said. “Open that blue box over there.” “Oh, my! Matching panties and bras. How sweet. My heavens, what am I saying. I’m a boy and I just said, ‘how sweet’ and am excited about wearing matching panties and a bra!” “Are you really excited? Didn’t you just love the Halloween party and dancing with all those boys in your pretty gown and high heels?” “Oh, yes Aunt Rose. It was a divine, wonderful evening. I had a great time and I loved the gown and everything and the boys treated me so nicely. It was a really neat costume Aunt Rose and so resourceful of you to think of something so simple and effective as a disguise.” “And don’t you enjoy wearing your new pumps with the higher heels?” (Blushing) “Yes, Auntie, very much I’m afraid, even though I can’t move or even think of myself as a boy when I wear them.”

“Well, then, if you liked it so much, why not try some other pretty things. Would you like to?” “Oh, Aunt Rose, I don’t know! I really shouldn’t be liking these things but I confess, I do. I love them. I love the soft, silky things you’ve given me but I don’t think I should be feeling this way. I’m supposed to be a boy, not a girl, and these are all girl things but yet I don’t think I feel like a boy anymore. And I look in the mirror even naked and I don’t see Keenan. I see some kind of hybrid girl staring back at me. My hips look like I should be looking forward to motherhood. I’m not sure what a boy should feel like at my age and I’m not even sure I’m a real boy anymore or whether I even care.”

“Here dear, slip on these panties and tuck your little self away and then slip your arms though the straps of this bra. There now, I’m going to fasten it for you and then I want you reach in and to take your breasts in your hands and arrange them in the cups so they look nice and your nipples are about where the seams are.” “Like this Aunt Rose? I’ve never worn a bra. Oh my! They do look much better don’t they? And they ARE breasts, aren’t they?” “Why, of course dear. You’re developing the figure of a lovely young lady and that’s what bras are for, uplifting and enhancing a lady’s figure. Now slip your chemise back over them.”

“I’m so confused. You’ve taught me so much since I’ve been here and I’ve changed so much too. I hardly recognize myself. I had no idea a boy could become a girl during puberty! Look how soft I’ve become and my nails and hair and the way I move and talk and…! My whole body is so smooth and soft and round.” All of a sudden it was like a hand grenade going off in my mind, I realized that it was ALRIGHT to feel the way I did.

And no, I was no longer a real boy in the usual sense and as such had every right to enjoy my girlish things. If I had girl feelings, and I could look like a real girl, as it seemed I most certainly did, then it should be alright to wear girl clothes! Then I thought of that silly expression, ‘if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…” What a revelation! “Alright. I’ll start opening the other boxes.”

“Well, if you want to see a new you, begin with that small package with the white ribbon.” “Oh, hose and garters. And so pretty too. My Mom wears these. I think they are much prettier than those dumb pantyhose.” “Me too, honey. Do you know how to put them on?” “I’ve seen her do it a lot. I think so.” “Remember, they have the potential to be rather risque if you don’t sit properly. You mustn’t let boys look up your skirts and see your panties.” “But Auntie, I’ve never worn a skirt.” “Oh, I think that is about to change dear.” I proceeded to put on the garter belt and then the hose, hooking it up to it’s six garters. “Now the pink box,” she said. Obediently I opened it and found several full and half slips and two teddies. They were all satin. I took off the chemise and I slid a full slip over my head and adjusted the straps so the cups fell around my bosom. Nestled in the cups of my totally unpadded A cup bra, I now had to admit that I did indeed have a bosom. Not much, but a very real bosom, the bosom of a GIRL, sensitive, genuine breasts, a tiny waist and flaring hips.

“All right, now any one of those hanging packages.” The first one was a beautiful wine colored crepe dress with a full skirt, long sleeves and a high collar. It had a slender self belt and a back zipper. It looked very conservative but it was sexy nonetheless because of the material and it clung to every curve. I slid it over my head and actually managed to get the zipper almost all the way up before she had to help me. It seemed I was much more limber than I used to be. “Stand still dear. You’re almost adept at dressing as a girl but we need to get a little makeup on you again before you see yourself. These are girl’s clothes after all, and you already know you make a pretty girl. I really blushed at that remark but nonetheless said a sincere ‘thank you.’ After all, I knew that I DID make a pretty girl after all the ‘flies’ buzzing around me at the party. “Now the little package over there and that oblong one.” I opened the little one first and there was a pair of lovely crystal dangle earrings in it. I took my others out and put them on.

The next box was a pair of party pumps with 3 ½" heels. They matched the dress perfectly. I slid them on my feet and the fit was perfect also. Having danced all night in heels, I now had no problem with these that were just a little higher even though they feminized my gait even more as I strived to put one foot directly in front of the other like a model. I felt deliciously grown up all of a sudden and then realized that it was a grown up GIRL I was feeling like. I looked down at my feet and realized I had to lean over just a bit to see them. My tits were in the way of my view. The shoes were beautiful and so was my bosom. I just knew I was in trouble thinking about my breasts in those terms as I had visions of them becoming large, full, round mounds to be enjoyed to the eye and in sexual pleasure. I got a flash of that hunk Ron Melany caressing them with those big hands of his. “Alright darling, go look at yourself and tell me if you really think you are still a boy.”

I walked gracefully, swinging my hips as I’d been taught and which now was so natural, keeping my upper body quiet and swinging my arms with the elbows turned in a little, to the mirror in the hall. The click of my heels on the hardwood floor sent a thrill through me that I won’t soon forget. I really can’t describe it to you. I knew I was too young to be having such sensual feelings. Or WAS I?

I just KNEW I shouldn’t be having the feelings I was having, wonderful, girlish, sensual, sexual feelings and yet I realized that these were MY clothes. I could keep them and wear and enjoy them at home, if not in school. There before me stood the reason I was so popular at the party. I was really pretty, not just cute. In that dress, it was obvious that I no longer possessed the body or face of a boy and apparently I no longer possessed the mind of one either because I was simply thrilled at my reflection. And my pert little bosom looked lovely in it’s new surroundings with my tiny waist and widening hips in that full skirted dress. This vision should have given me a raging erection but in fact, I had TWO, but both on my chest. Again that tantalizing twitching invaded my groin. It felt wonderful but threatened to turn my knees to jelly. I’m afraid Aunt Rose recognized the expression on my face and the feelings I was having. I refused to be ashamed. I was too much in a state of bliss. Apparently, she had experienced the same feelings on different occasions.

They were MY breasts and they were at full attention, poking naughtily out against the silky fabric of my new dress, visual evidence of my new excitement. Nothing happened in my previous pleasure center except for those lovely little pulsing contractions that felt so good. It was asleep, perhaps never to awaken again. I reached up and touching them, almost swooned. The way I felt right now, I didn’t even care. I turned this way and that and curtsied. “Oh, Aunt Rose, I’m really pretty, aren’t I?” “Yes darling. You are really pretty. You make a truly lovely girl. Now why would a pretty little thing like you want to be a boy and for heavens sake, why would you want to be called Keenan?

“I see your point Auntie. It doesn’t fit at all, does it? How about Alecia. I think that is such a pretty name.” “Good choice. You shall be Alecia from now on I think, even when you have slacks on because you will want to be wearing your bra and a blouse over it now and perhaps some pretty shoes, won’t you?”. “I’m afraid I will, Auntie.” “Alecia is a very pretty name and you are a very pretty girl. Now, model your other new things for me dear.” “Auntie, this is a little embarrassing but I’m having such a divine time like this, do you think maybe that my new vitamins might have something to do with what has happened to my mind and body?” “Well, dear, I suppose that may be true. Why?” “I just love the way I’m feeling so much. Could we maybe…double up on those things and see?” “Why, of course dear. It won’t hurt you at all. We’ll begin tomorrow. What a splendid idea! We’ll give you two shots a week from now on.” I then knew for sure that Auntie was behind my unusual changes but as the saying goes, I couldn’t have cared less. I was actually grateful. I didn’t understand WHY she had done it though.

And so, I worked my way though five more outfits and accessories and a new pair of pretty shoes with each one, both flat and high heeled opera pumps and wedge heeled sandals too. They were all lovely as were the other gifts. She had gotten me all kinds of lovely rings and bracelets and earrings and hair accessories. There were skirts and blouses too but no slacks in this pile. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to be Alecia at home so you may wear what ever you wish. I’ve gotten you some cute flats, sandals, high heeled slippers and even a bathing suit.” I was, I think quite understandably, on cloud 9. I spent the rest of the day in a new dress with a full skirt, reveling in how it caressed my smooth, nylon clad legs and how my pumps made me take such tiny, feminine steps and how they made my calves and ankles look.

I knew I was going to have to pretend to be Keenan at school and the thought was not a pleasant one at all. I couldn’t walk or act like him anymore. I had become rather flamboyantly feminine always. I had no friends that were boys anymore except for Gil and he was rather girlish too, I’m afraid. He was an orphan who lived with his aging grandmother. We both hung out with the girls now and I felt sorry for him that he hadn’t turned into a girl too as I was so fortunate to be doing. I felt sorry for him. He was such a dweeb.

Of course, being my best friend, he had been over to the house and had come to know the real me and no longer called me Keenan either. I was Alecia to him too and I’m afraid the poor dear slipped up a couple times in front of the girls when he addressed me at school. Now THAT got quite a reaction, I must tell you and they began to call me Alecia too as there was little left to contradict that name. I didn’t know if my heart could stand all this wondrous excitement.

I’m afraid the mirrors in the house got quite a workout that day. I felt like I was trapped…trapped in Paradise and never wanted to be rescued. For the rest of Christmas vacation, I wore only dresses and skirts and pretty shoes, doing my hair up and wearing light makeup. Gil dropped by to see what I had gotten for Christmas and was completely blown away. I’m so totally sure he was jealous that I felt even more sorry for him.

Each day after that, when Christmas vacation ended, I couldn’t wait until I could get home and into my totally pretty things again and be me. What was ever to become of me? I was beginning to HATE being a boy named Alecia. Sometimes when the teacher would call for Keenan, I didn’t answer. That wasn’t my name. It failed to register. It wasn’t that I was daydreaming or defiant. That just wasn’t my name anymore, in MY mind at least.

Auntie had begun calling me Alecia ALL the time now both in and out of the house. I’m afraid it was a little embarrassing when I didn’t have any makeup or a dress on but it must have been only in MY mind. Apparently, the rest of the world only saw Alecia. Strangers always called me ‘miss’ no matter how I was dressed. My voice was changing but into that of a mature girl.

And then I realized that I had become so pretty and feminine over the summer and so far this school year, that it didn’t matter if I wore a flour sack, I would still be taken for an Alecia. It was a wonderful feeling. People in the shops called me ‘Miss’ or Alecia if they knew me no matter what I wore. Men and boys held doors open for me. I didn’t have to worry about being found out as Keenan anymore. I WAS Alecia now. Oh, my goodness! What has happened to me? Of course, this didn’t escape Gil either and he stopped treating me like just another effeminate boy too. He held doors open for me too poor dear. I really wished that I could do something for him, something wonderful like Auntie had done for me.

January 20: the shock of Christmas was waning and Alecia was growing both in size, although not in height, and in femininity.

She was beginning to have decided , make that EXTREME, difficulties pretending to be a boy at school. She absolutely had to wear a bra all the time and she wore blouses to school with her slacks and androgynous leaning toward feminine shoes and she was not passing as Keenan well at all. It was a cruel joke. Her new true nature was showing all over the place and others responded to it and to her beauty, so out of place in an alleged male package. She was going through a perfectly normal female puberty, only she wasn’t female.

A few of the boys who had danced with her at the party began to come around and talk with her, relating to her as the girl she was becoming and using her now well known feminine name. They were big and strong and she was small and weak, a fragile, feminine creature. It was quite an experience for her to be pursued by boys, flirted with, to be shown the courtesies a woman likes to receive, doors opened, packages and books carried, rides home from school. She didn’t really wear makeup to school although she did start to wear a little colored lip gloss that gave a sexy shine to her young lips. Whether she knew it or not, she had ‘come out’ as surely as if she had taken an ad in the school paper saying, “Keenan is dead. Long live Alecia. I’m a girl now” and had been accepted by both the boys and the girls. She now had two good girlfriends she pal’d around with. She walked like a girl. She talked and giggled like a girl. Her manner screamed girl at every turn and every step of her well turned ankles and she was no longer ashamed. She sang like a girl and she looked like a girl no matter what she did or didn’t wear. Her voice was pure soprano.

February 28: Keenan was a distant memory. It had only been two months since she had gotten all the pretty things but there was only room for one person in that little body now and Alecia wanted the space to grow and she literally evicted Keenan. And grow she did. She grew in knowledge as Aunt Rose taught her all the womanly crafts she knew including sewing and knitting and all about the thinking patterns of a female and how to cope with boys, although her ‘vitamins’ were complimenting that rather nicely too.

Her boy equipment became minuscule as she was chemically castrated and mentally converted. There was no area of femininity that was left out of Alecia’s education. She was no longer a size nine. She was a ten and her bosom has blossomed to a very full B cup by her 15th birthday on March 31 and she began to delight in wearing pretty, feminine blouses to school that showed off her charms with a little pendant nestling between them and pretty lingerie that showed through her tops and blouses. There was no longer any way that Keenan could go to school or that Alecia could go back to being Keenan. “Auntie, I can’t be Keenan any more. When I’m trying to be him, it’s like I’m wearing an outsized trench coat covering up the real me. It feels horrible. I HATE it.” “All right dear. Calm down. Perhaps I can do something to help.”

Aunt Rose had to intercede in behalf of Alecia with the school board. Of course, Alecia’s teachers weren’t blind either. Aunt Rose was a powerful woman in the community and by the middle of April, Alecia was in full bloom. Her records had been changed. She attended girl’s gym and feminine hygiene classes with the rest of the girls. Alecia went to school. Alecia was on the honor roll. Alecia was in the Glee Club and got a solo part with her clear and beautiful soprano voice. Alecia wore pretty skirts and blouses and dresses and flats and pumps and was every bit the young lady she had become through Aunt Roses careful coaching and nourishment of both spirit and body. Every stitch of Keenan’s wardrobe was given to charity. “Aunt Rose, why have I become a girl instead of a boy?” she innocently asked one day. Do some boys just turn into girls when they begin puberty?” I was SO naive! I thought all of this just “happened” like sometimes boys just turned into girls at puberty. What did I know? I didn’t really believe the vitamins could be the cause.” “Why, darling? Don’t you like being a girl?”

“Well, of course I like it. I LOVE it. I adore it. It’s wonderful. It’s more fun than I’ve ever had in all my life but how did it happen? I know I was just starting my puberty but I’m having girl puberty instead of boy.” “I’m sure it has something to do with your hormone balance dear. As long as you are happy and healthy, why worry?” “You’re right of course Auntie but do Mom and Dad know?” “It would be difficult for them NOT to know dear. If I didn’t tell them, another one of their friends certainly would.” “Then they don’t mind?” “It doesn’t seem so Alecia. They are the ones who gave me permission to apply for a name change for you as well as a change to female on your birth certificate. I think that pretty well sums it up.” “ I suppose SO! My heavens! Did you send them any pictures?” “Of course. They wrote back and said you were absolutely adorable, just like your mother was at your age.”

April 10: “Auntie, you’ll never believe it. Carl Simmons has asked me to the junior Prom next month. Can you believe it?” “Of course I can believe it dear. What boy wouldn’t want to date a lovely young thing like you. You’d have to check his pulse if he didn’t fancy you.” “May I go, PLEASE? He’s SO handsome and tall and everything. The other girls are just going to die when they see me on his arm.” “Yes, dear. You may go but you have to be in by midnight. Have you decided what style of gown you want to wear?” “No. I was hoping you’d go shopping with me. I’m not very good at it yet. I need more practice and I’m definitely not ready for a strapless, am I.” “Yes, you are dear and I’ll be happy to help. I’m sure we won’t find your dream dress right away so we can begin shopping any time you like. With a little padding underneath, you’ll look like a movie star.”

“Alecia, sweety, before the prom, I think we should have a little ‘girl’ talk.” “About what Auntie?” “Well, it’s quite obvious that you want to be a girl now and you have something on your body that is trying to prevent that.” “What?” “Those little jelly beans between your legs. Not only do they get in the way but they make chemicals that make your being a girl harder.” “Well, can’t we just get rid of them, you know, like tonsils?” “As a matter of fact dear, yes, and that is exactly how we can get rid of them. It will only take ten or fifteen minutes. Would you like that?” “Oh YES, Auntie. That’s where my boy juice comes from isn’t it?” “Yes, dear, a lot of it.” “Well, please help me lose them then Auntie. I don’t want anything interfering with my life as a girl.” “Alright dear. This Wednesday after school I’ll pick you up and we’ll spend just a little time at the doctor’s office, OK?” “Swell, Auntie. I love you. You’ve been so good to me I’m going to hate to have to leave you.”

Auntie took me to her gynecologist and she was right, just a little snip and a few painless stitches and it was all over. “Rose, I had no idea this niece of yours was really a nephew. She’s gorgeous.” There they went again, adults talking like we kids are not even in the room. “I was a bit hesitant about this but after seeing her, well…it would be a shame NOT to do this and that little penis is ridiculous too. Whatever are you going to do about THAT?”

“A bridge for crossing later Betty, unless, of course, you have connections in that area!. I just might Rosie. By the time she graduates, she’ll have lived over three years this way and passed the real life test. It may cost 10 or 15 thousand but I’m sure you can afford that.” “Of course.” “I’ll look into it. What have you got her on now?” “Well, she was on a blocker but now she’ll just be getting Estradiol and Premarin 1.25 twice a day.”

“How often for the shots?” “Twice a week.” “Cut it down to once for right now. At this age, she needs all those hormones rushing around but with the extra baggage, she won’t need as much. Her mind has turned completely, hasn’t it?” “Yes, she’s all girl and loves it.” “Amazing what can be done if we get them soon enough, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see how she matures. She’s pretty enough now for a fashion model. That can only get better. Well, we’re all done here young lady.” “Treat yourself kindly down there until you feel all healed up Alecia, and then just enjoy your new life.” “Come back and see me in a month for a checkup.” “Thank you doctor. I do enjoy it. I just LOVE it” I squealed.”

I was a bit sore on Thursday but wore a control panty and a pad and nobody ever knew it. I had to wear a napkin for a few days just in case I bled a little. Now there was a new experience. It was kind of neat having to wear a pad though, just like my other girlfriends. I didn’t tell any of my girlfriends either because I wasn’t ready for them to know that Keenan was really dead.

For some time I had been sitting to pee and it was just business as usual now. NOW I might even get away with a bikini. That really WOULD be fun this summer. I day dreamt of this hunk I had danced with, one who was still pursuing me. I could just see me lying face down on the beach. He would be undoing my straps and putting suntan lotion all over me, slowly, sensuously. Ooh, I just tingled thinking about him and that bikini. Well, it would have to wait. It was still cold outside. I could still have warm dreams though, couldn’t I?’

It was now APRIL and was beginning to warm up. Auntie took me on another wonderful shopping spree for summer things. It took DAYS to find and carry it all home and we did find the perfect prom gown. It was chiffon and lace and had a full skirt and showed off my charms deliciously with the built in shelf in the bra and in a light mint green too, one of my favorite colors. I was lucky to have such a generous Auntie and such a large walk in closet. Now that I was 15, she got me some more pretty 3 and 3 ½" heels in white and beige and cranberry to go with a new sheath mini dress. I’m afraid it was rather sexy, especially in heels. We got a white bikini that was very tantalizing and lacy satin lingerie and lightweight skirts, dresses, blouses and sun dresses and rompers.

I was so happy, I just wheeled around in my sandals and stood on my tip toes and kissed her full on the mouth. “You’re welcome darling,” she said. She knew what the kiss was for, the depth of what it really meant by the way it was delivered of course. It went far beyond that shopping trip. I never saw it coming because it was so subtle and yet, somehow, Aunt Rose had taken this ragamuffin boy and turned him into a princess. And, in the back of my mind, I just KNEW that SHE had done it on purpose. It was amazing how effortless it all seemed and now I couldn’t even think like a boy anymore. It was totally impossible. My thoughts were focused on school, shopping and boys, hair, nails and clothes and more boys. I knew that I still had that little vestige of maleness about me but it seemed so insignificant and was very easy to hide now. It would be less than two months until my parents were home from Europe to collect me and take me back to a neighborhood and a school where I wasn’t even known. At least, that’s what I thought.

Keenan was gone and I was legally Alecia now. I could go anywhere, but did I want to? I was quite comfortable at this school and was being pursued by handsome young men. It was one night when Aunt Rose and I were sitting quietly knitting when the phone rang. It was Daddy calling from Amsterdam.

“Alecia, is that you?” “Yes Daddy. I guess you didn’t recognize my voice.” “Well, no sweetheart. You sound like you are growing up, different, but you certainly sound happy too. I’m sure you are having a wonderful time there but I want you to think about something honey. Your mother and I would like you to come over here to Holland and spend the summer with us and we’ll all come back next August. Holland is a very special place honey and I’m sure you would love it.” “That sounds wonderful Daddy. Of course I’ll come. You work out the details with Aunt Rose, all right?” “Sure honey. Well take care of everything. Let me talk to her please.”

“Well, Rosie, I see you’ve done quite a job on Keenan. How long did it take?” “You know we can’t get into that now.” “Just tell me.” “About eight months.” “Well, her mother is going to be delighted. I take it she’s almost complete?” “Yes.” “Well, when she comes to stay with us, we’ll take care of the rest. Holland is a very gender friendly place and they do nice work here too. I knew you could do it. You always were a master at subtlety. I’ll make all the travel arrangements but you will have to take care of the passport and when she is out of school, you just have her ready for the trip, alright? You’ll see she has a nice wardrobe?” “Of course. She does already.” “Thank you Rosie. You’ve been a big help and Janice will be very grateful. We’ll make it up to you.” “No need. I’ve enjoyed having her here immensely. Quite an unusual challenge but an adventure too. I’m going to rather miss watching it all happen. It was a lovely, perverse kind of fun.”

The prom in May was everything it should have been and, as a freshman girl, Alecia was on top of the world. Her dance card was full and her date was attentive and actually got her home on time although they did spend a little time getting to know one another in the back seat of his buddy’s car where, let us say, that she was made to feel like a real girl as Carl’s tongue sought hers in a deep and passionate kiss before she was politely escorted to the front door and properly kissed goodnight. And then came final exams, always a joy, which she passed with very acceptable grades.

A few days later, she was as the airport with Aunt Rose immersed in a teary fair well. They had to pay extra for her baggage as there were four large suitcases. She was only 15 but the way she was dressed and made up, she looked at least 18. She wore a dark blue skirt suit with an above knee skirt showing off her full thighs, smooth knees and calves and a plunging neckline on both her blouse and the suit jacket combined with her push up bra served to advertise that she was all girl and proud of it. The young gentleman seated beside her was most appreciative of both her company for the trip and her attire. Too bad it was the Concord and would be such a short trip to London.

Alecia’s connecting flight got her into Amsterdam at 5:40PM and had it not been for the pictures Aunt Rose had sent, they wouldn’t have recognized her. To her parents, she was a vision they had hoped for 14 years ago when they adopted her/him.

Janice had wanted a girl so badly and that was understandable enough, considering that she had missed most of her own childhood.

There were hugs and kisses and tears of reunion and they had the porter carry her luggage out to the waiting limousine. “Well, Mommy, what do you think?” “I’m simply speechless Alecia. Your mom must have been gorgeous.” “But you ARE gorgeous Mom!” “I think it’s time you were told honey. We adopted you when you were a year old. Your real mom died in childbirth and we wanted a baby and I couldn’t have one so, here you are. Of course, I really wanted a little girl to dress and spoil but a boy was all that was available, so we took him. So tell us, how do you feel about all that’s happened to you in the last year and where do we go from here?”

“Mom, I don’t know how to even begin to explain it. Aunt Rose began to sand off the rough edges on me and it just seemed like one thing led to another and then there was a Halloween party and I was the belle of the ball and it was so much fun I didn’t want to stop even though I felt it was wrong of me to feel like that but after I asked Aunt Rose to double up on my vitamins, things were easier for me and I just sort of…evolved into Alecia.” “Well, darling, we have a confession to make. We like you better as our daughter anyway and speaking of that, have you thought about what you want to do with well, you know, the uh, leftovers…?” “Don’t be bashful Daddy.”

“I’d like to pour sulfuric acid on it but I’m sure that would hurt too much. Why?” “Well, here in Amsterdam there is a very famous doctor named Hans Bruckner and he can take that away and leave you complete, undetectable from your girlfriends. We were thinking that if that is what you would like, we can get it done and you will be all well and ready to go back to school in September complete in every way.” “Oh, COULD I DADDY?”

“Honey, you’re choking me. Yes, we can arrange it. Now, why don’t we just relax and tomorrow we’ll take you around and show you all the beautiful sights there are to see here. More tulips are shipped from here than anywhere in the world. We’ll take a boat trip through the canals. You’re going to love it.”

“Mom, you said you couldn’t have a baby. I don’t understand. How come?” “May I tell her?” “I think so darling.” “Alecia honey, when I was growing up, I was a lot like you and I was very lucky too.” “What do you mean Mom?” “ I mean honey, that I was a boy orphan too and taken home by someone else who had wanted a girl. We put you in Aunt Rose’s hands for that reason. She is responsible for how lovely you are. She is the one who helped you become a girl. Aren’t we lucky, the both of us to have been cared for by such talented and devoted people?” “I love you Mom and Daddy.” “We love you too sweetheart. We’ll call Dr. Bruckner tomorrow.” “Daddy, I have a really sweet friend who is sort of a boy and he’s an orphan too. Do you think maybe Aunt Rose would be willing to…?” “She seemed to have a wonderful time converting YOU honey. Do you really think your friend would like being a girl?” “Oh, I’m sure he would Daddy. When I showed him what I got for Christmas, he almost cried.” “Well, we’ll ask her when we get home, alright?” “Great! I think Gil would make a really cute Gillian. He even looks a little like that X-Files star.”

The end…for Alecia, but perhaps not for Gil!

[cd-stories]

First Time in Public

I was always curious about dressing as a woman, remembering when I was younger trying on my older sister’s clothes and getting so excited wearing pantyhose and heels, but the feeling past as I got older. I am about 5’10” and thin at 185 lbs. I always had very feminine features and with a good wig, I could easily pass as a woman (a few eyebrow plucks would help). I was in theater in high school, so I wasn’t afraid around make-up and wigs. I had worn my sister’s heels so that didn’t worry me either, a lap or two around the house and I would get the walk down. Some control top pantyhose would do the trick on hiding my male parts easily since I didn’t have large genitals.

I fantasized about dressing again and again even checking out a few online stores to purchase the right size heels, dresses, and wigs. My fantasies went on for quite a long time. After I got married, I kept my feminine side a hidden secret. But slowly, the urge began to grow bigger and bigger. I found myself wanting to dress up as a woman again. I got dressed a few times but it wasn’t any fun since I was not dressed fully from head to toe. One day my wife, Debra told me that she would be going to Chicago for some business. She would be gone for a whole week. I tried to sound disappointed, but in the back of my head I knew that I was going to order the dresses, wigs and heels and become a woman for the week. She would leave on a Monday and return the next Monday. She had asked if I could take a few days off and come with her. I quickly made some story about one of my biggest clients would be in town that week, and it wouldn’t be wise to take off just then. She seemed disappointed, but never raised the question again.

I opened a new credit card under my name only and ordered some size 13 black heel pumps with 4 inch heels. I also got a couple pairs of control top pantyhose, black and white sheer stockings, two black knee length dresses, a blonde wig, and some jewelry. I also purchased some breast fillers and corset tops to wear as well. The corset would help with my upper body figure and the breast fillers would come in a size c, a cup size bigger than my wife.

I scheduled everything to arrive at the house the Monday Debra was leaving. I took some time off from work, telling them that I would be going to Florida for some personal work. I told them to forward all my work calls to my cell phone. Even if Debra was going to call my office, she would still get a hold of me and wouldn’t arouse much suspicion. It was setting up to be a perfect week being a woman. And when the weekend arrived before Debra’s trip, I couldn’t wait to do some light makeup shopping and settle in to silky, feminine clothes. I helped her pack and told her I took a half day to take her to the airport.

As I carried her bag through the terminal my mind was fantasizing about my heels and dresses. I kissed Debra passionately before she went through security and we promised to call each other when we had the chance.

As soon as she had left, I jumped back in the car and went to the makeup store and purchased makeup and some hair-removal wax to thin out my eyebrows and soften my beard growth. I spent the rest of the morning shaving my body. I really couldn’t believe that I was going all out for this fantasy. After my shower, I couldn’t stop touching my smooth legs and underarms as I used whatever my wife left for lotion and perfume. Next were my eyebrows, which I took the wax and began to painfully shape my brow for a more girly look. I stepped back to look at my more girlish face. I almost didn’t recognize myself around my eyes, and I smiled broadly as I looked back at a more womanly me, and I had yet to apply any makeup. As I was feeling proud of myself, the door bell rang.

I ignored the weird look I got from the delivery man and tore into the package as soon as he left. I could hardly contain my excitement as I pulled out black heels and black dresses. First I pulled out the tan control top hose and slipped them on. The feeling of pantyhose sliding up my long smooth hairless legs was exhilarating. I tried my best to keep my hormones under control. Next I fitted the corset and wrapped it around my body. The breast inserts fit perfectly into the cups and I felt womanly as I moved it into place. As I looked down I couldn’t believe how my body was being transformed in to something so sexy.

Next was the blonde wig that was shoulder length, I fitted it on my head and moved it around. I didn’t spend much time styling the hair, which was a good thing. I don’t think I could spend the time doing it up. I stood back and looked at myself in the mirror. I felt my manhood start to get aroused.

I was barely able to recognize myself as I looked on. With a little sexy makeup I doubt I could be mistaken at all as a man in drag. I looked that good. I turned and rubbed my hands all over my flat stomach and legs. My hands shook a little as I began applying my makeup. A little rogue and some lipstick and eyeliner, I was beginning to become more and more of a woman. When I finished with make-up and tried not to dwell on my face and carefully slipped into one of my black dresses.

The dress fit like a glove, even around my bust and hips. My sister’s dresses never fit, and wearing Debra’s things was really out of the question, they would just be too tight and rip at the seams. I just never wore anything that was this womanly that fit me. It was black dress that was tight with spaghetti straps and was about knee length. It had a white lace trim at the top and on the hem. A small skinny belt went around the waist.

I pulled out some black sheer stockings I ordered and slipped them on over the tan hose. I sat on the bed and fixed the stockings to the garter straps on the corset. Catching myself in the mirror, I once again could not believe it was really me looking back. I stood in the full length mirror and. I would lean to show my cleavage, which was a pleasant surprise with the corset creating a natural looking cleavage.

To the passing eye, I was an athletic tall blonde haired woman with long beautiful legs and slight hour glass look to my body. I was so excited I could no longer hide my arousal through the pantyhose, a definite outline surfaced at my crotch. Trying to keep from getting aroused again I practiced on my walk and sitting up and down with a dress on.

I was surprised how easily I picked up sitting up straight as a girl and keeping my knees together as I stood up and sat down. I also worked on a feminine voice, which wasn’t hard for me in the first place. Many telemarketers would call me ma’am on the phone when I would answer. I practiced in the bathroom where the echo would help out, and then I called a few numbers to friends as a telemarketer to see if I could pass as a woman. It only took the first call as I tricked a friend of my wife’s. I even flirted a little with him, surprised how easy it was. I was feeling pretty good about how I looked and how it felt. I finally worked up my courage and slipped out of the house after dark and took Debra’s car, a little convertible, and took a drive toward downtown. I packed one of my wife’s purses, and made sure I had everything a girl would have, even some tampons. I also slipped on a pair of black panties to go over the hose for added security that my little member wouldn’t make an appearance. I touched up my makeup and gave a final look in the full length mirror. I was surprised how womanly I looked. Finally I tied one of Debra’s scarves around my neck and adorned jewelry. My heart was in my throat as my heels clicked on the garage floor and I unlock the red convertible.

I had some difficulty getting in on the driver-side; it was very unlady-like. I moved the seat back and adjusted everything to accommodate my size. Then I practiced both getting in and exiting the small car. It took me about a half hour to get it down right, although, I could still be doing something wrong. I had to get my brain around moving and reacting as a woman would do. I just kept imagining I was a beautiful girl all my life. There is no need to act muscularly. Getting my heels to work with the pedals was also a challenge. Realizing that I was going to be as comfortable as I was going to get, I turned the ignition and slowly pulled out of the garage and pulled onto our street.

I wanted to get out of my neighborhood as fast as I could so as not to arouse suspicion with neighbors seeing a strange lady driving my wife’s car. I felt more and more comfortable driving in heels as I hit the interstate and headed for downtown. But where should I go? I was almost just content on driving around for my first night out as a woman. Stopped at a light a car pulled up beside me and I turned to look. The blood drained from my face as I realized it was one of Debra’s girlfriends. She rolled down the window to talk and I nervously looked around for the window button, what would I tell her?

Her name was Katie, a cute petite red head that was always the wild one of Debra’s friends. She had a tight body and breasts that were much bigger than her frame. She had always wanted to get a breast reduction, but I always thought that was a part of her attractiveness. She had amazing legs. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them when she was around wearing skirts or shorts. In heels her legs looked even softer and more sensual. She was the last person I really wanted to see right now. As I lowered my window she screamed at me to pull over, I reluctantly did and both cars came to stop on an empty block. She slid out of her SUV and she was dressed as if on a date. Short white cocktail dress, tan nylons and white heel pumps. I felt a twinge of lust for her as she approached my little convertible.

“Hi, I am sorry but I know the people that own this car, and they are out of town,” she said, very direct, “I will call the cops, what are you doing with my friend’s car?”

“I am sorry,” I said as fem as I could, I figure I didn’t have to hide the fact that I was scared, because I was. “I… I work with Greg, and my car broke down,” I lied, trying to keep the story simple. “He told me his wife was out of town and I could borrow his car.”

“Oh,” she looked surprised, and she glanced down at my legs. “I have been to his work before, I don’t remember seeing you.”

Being as fem in my voice as I could, I turned it back on her, “I am sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh sorry,” she said backing off a little, “my name is Katie.”

“Hi Katie, I’m Ginger,” I thought it sounded good. “I just started working with Greg. He is a great guy, very cute too.” Why not throw in a little ad for myself. I hardly believed it when I said it either. “He is out with some guys tonight but you can call him later and confirm with him.” “Ok,” she smiled. “Well, I guess that is fine. To tell you the truth I have had sort of a rough night. If your new here, would you like to join me for a drink tonight.”

She must have seen a little fear in my eyes because she began to back off the offer telling me about a rough evening. I told her that I would be glad to grab a quick drink. I figured I needed it after that exchange, and after all, “Ginger” would have loved some company. I couldn’t believe really to what was going on. I thought for the most part that I had fooled her, but could I really be that stupid to accept to spend some time with a woman that could easily expose me? I felt sick to my stomach as I followed her to a quaint little bar that was not far from Katie’s house.

On the ride over, my cell phone began to ring. It was Katie calling confirm “Ginger’s” story. I answered it in the gruffest voice I had. Sure enough, she asked me about Ginger. At first I pretended not to know what she was talking about then suddenly remembered. I figured it added a tinge of realism. Once at the bar I concentrated on being a woman again. Watching how I got out of the car and remembering my purse and trying not to let the feel of hose on my legs turn me on.

She smiled as she stepped down off her SUV. I smiled back, more at the irony of me driving a little convertible and Katie in a large truck. She saw my height for the first time and I felt her eyes on me trying to find something wrong. I immediately felt self conscious as we walked in the smoky bar. With no real tables open we sat in a corner booth and Katie sat very close to me. At one point our nylon cased legs rubbed together, I quickly withdrew my leg and smiled at her, she did the same.

My mind raced as I knew I could not just order a beer. As the waitress approached our table I was almost in a panic as to what to order. The waitress looked to me and I grab the little drink menu at our table and told her to ask Katie first what she wanted. She ordered a dirty martini and I said the same. I hated martinis but it should fall into the character I was playing. After ordering a strange silence fell between us. I feared maybe she knew or that she could sense something wasn’t right. I felt I better get her talking about her or it would be a nightmarish night.

As we talked, mostly about her, our drinks arrived and I felt more and more comfortable talking and with my legs crossed. I even picked up a cute little laugh. Katie seemed lost in her story about her failed date that evening and talked about her frustration with men. I would nod and shake my head at certain parts in her story, and tried to keep my mind on controlling my body as a woman.

My transformation was defiantly having an effect on me because the martini was actually very good, and I even enjoyed some of the looks from other men in the bar at Katie and me.

Something else was also happening as I sat sipping my martini and listening to Katie’s woes. I was extremely turned on. It was an extraordinary feeling. I felt horny, and fantasized about some nasty sex dressed, but I stayed limp and hidden.

My heart pounded and my head swirled as I started to feel a buzz from the strong drink, and sitting listening to Katie put my brain into a trance. I almost forgot about my inhibitions and felt as if I were meant to be in makeup, long hair, and heels. I kept my wrists limp and kept as loose and feminine as I could be. When our second round came, I was feeling more and more as a woman.

Then it happened. Half way through our second round a couple of large men found their way through the crowd and was staring at us. They seemed goofy and drunk and asked to sit with us for a little bit. Before I could call it a night, Katie welcomed them to our table and a rather burly man sat next to me. He smelled of cheap beer and body odor, I wrinkled my nose every time he leaned in to join the conversation. He had dark hair and a 5 o’clock shadow.

He was a little cute; I could see that women would not be turned off by his looks. Katie was not bothered by her man at all, in fact welcoming the little touches and closeness of him next to her.

Conversations turned into flirting on Katie’s side and soon they were in their own little world. The man next to me, Adam, was going to school at the local college and didn’t like all those small girls on campus. I tried not to show any interest in touching or feeling, but also I was not trying to act out of character as a woman in any way. It was my first true test. I sipped away at my martini and tried to feel comfortable.

Before I knew it, we were somewhere in our fourth round of martinis when my worst nightmare came true. Katie started making out with her boy and Adam’s hands were starting to touch my legs. I was starting to get nervous and horny as he began getting closer and touchier. Luckily my penis stayed limp. His hands were amazing, soft and firm, slipping up my dress. I pressed my legs together and crossed them so he would not find something out of whack, then submitted to his eyes.

I was returning his flirts, and I started loving the attention. Katie was really fooling around with the guy next to her while Adam couldn’t keep his hands off my legs. As long as he wasn’t going near my private area,I found myself welcoming his advances. The stench of beer and odor from him turned it to an intoxicating blend of bitter sexual appeal and horny bodies. I felt his arm around me, so strong, and I left a hand on his leg. I never considered myself a homosexual, guys are not my type. But I felt something different, more than just sex, but a validation of being a woman. I was so curious to see if I was turning him on.

He leaned in, and I couldn’t help but wanting to kiss him deeply. My mind raced, my heart skipped a beat as he leaned in more and laid a wet juicy kiss on my lips. To tell you the truth he was a horrible kisser but I found myself kissing back. His strong hand slid under my dress around the outside of my thigh to my ass and pulled me in closer to him. Then out of nowhere I slipped my hand to his special area. The feeling was incredible. He was so horny for me. It was the first time I had felt another man’s special part, even if it was through his jeans. He was large, much larger than me. I felt a sense of pride that I was womanly enough to turn on a man, so, I was turned on. After a few seconds of rubbing him and kissing, the kissing actually started to go bad. He did something strange with his tongue and it didn’t feel right. I stopped him and came out of the trance that the martinis started.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “But I really have to be going.” The look on Adam’s face was pained. I had been there before. I told him that he was a sweetheart and he was a great kisser, but I had a meeting in the morning and I needed some rest.

My apparent awakening also got the attention of Katie. They stopped and she too was gathering her things. The boys politely paid for our drinks, and Katie and I stood and left. My mind was replaying everything, and I was feeling woozy from the drinks and the extreme sexual experience I just had as a woman. I was both horny and sickened at the same time.

Katie must have realized something because she stopped me from entering my little car. “Why don’t you and I grab some drinks at my place?” I told her that I was done for the evening. We then said good byes and left.

For the first time I felt so free. I have never been able to do that in a while. There was just something so sexy about making out with a strange guy. The drive home was relatively quick and my head was heavy and my body felt it had been in a fight. I parked in the garage and my heels clicked as I entered the house. My hair and clothes smelt of cigarettes and a tinge of Katie’s perfume. My feet felt some relief as I slipped out of the heels, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was still aroused at the figure looking back. Then my phone rang. It was Debra.

Katie had informed Debra about what happened and she was a really angry. I was trapped now. I had no idea about how to explain it to her. My only choice was to tell her the truth. So, I started telling her everything. Debra was in complete shock and said she would come back home immediately. It was not going to be a week that I was expecting.

The End

[cd-stories]

Caught Online

I was all alone in my house, this night my life changed forever. I was simply looking for my sister’s iPad when I went into my sister’s bedroom. She’d left her lingerie drawer open and suddenly all my attention was focused on the lacy white corset on top. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, and nothing could have torn my attention away from it. I just had to put it on! Then, of course, I needed nylons and panties to look right. Girls didn’t run around in just lingerie so a dress and heels followed and at the age of eleven I became obsessed with dressing myself femininely!

At home it was too crowded to have any privacy usually and I just knew that everyone would ostracize me if they found out. Boys didn’t wear girl’s or women’s clothes! But every chance I got, I eagerly found myself dressing from the skin out in female clothing! It was never enough just to wear one item or only lingerie’, I had to dress fully! When I was dressed there was just the serenity and peacefulness of feeling feminine while time seemingly stood still and nothing else mattered. Why I’d ask myself after, why was I so different, but there was never any good answer. It was a part of me that took a long time to accept. A part that gripped me and held me captive in a compulsive obsession I couldn’t fight or resist in any way. And as I was to discover a part that would last the rest of my life no matter how I might try to resist or stop myself from dressing up.

As the years passed it wasn’t enough to simply wear women’s clothing. Women did so much more and now I had to as well. Long hair for males was the norm at the time so I learned to style mine into a very feminine pageboy. I polished my nails, both fingers and toes. I experimented with make up till I was able to do my face as well as any thirteen year old girl. I’d shave my body and legs to be as femininely smooth as possible; never once stopping to think about or remembering that it wouldn’t grow back overnight.

When I moved out on my own it became easier to indulge but also harder to hide my obsession. Friends and family don’t always call before they drop over and there were a few scary moments when I was nearly caught. Sometimes I left something out in my rush to change back or discovered that I hadn’t quite removed my make up or my nail polish fully after I’d let them in! I prayed that they wouldn’t notice.

It was a rewarding part of my life but still a very lonely one in many ways. Then came the time I found myself peeking out the door at two in the morning, daring myself to walk down to the other end of the hall and back. Rushing out the door and stumbling along the hall, all my femininely graceful ways forgotten at first until a part of my mind reminded me that I was supposed to be feminine. Slowing down, adding a feminine sway and gait as my heart pounded so rapidly then walking carefully down to the end of the hallway and back until I was within ten feet of my door.

Rushing to get behind it again and close it. Feeling so exhilarated and thrilled that I’d actually done it. From there I increased my dares to actually having to go onto the landing and stand there for a whole minute or two; to go as far as the front or rear door and stand there at first, to stepping outside and walking around to the other door while dressed! It was so very, very intoxicating to savor the sensations of being outside dressed. Like the swirl of cool air around my legs and under my short skirt, the tug and stretch of my garter straps along my thighs, the way my nylons felt as they rasped together with each step, hearing the click of my heels against the concrete! Eventually I dared myself to go as far as to walk around the block. Even more exciting, more intoxicating and oh so much more scary all wrapped together! Not that anyone else was there to share it with or see me. Daring myself to go further, to add another block to my walk, and another until during one late night walk someone came out of a house and looked my way. I ran like the frightened little girl I was aping and hid behind some trees till I was sure I was alone again.

The world didn’t come to an end the next day! There was no headline in the paper revealing my secret to the world! My friends and family still didn’t know and confront me. Why had I thought they would and been so scared? Was I that ashamed of what I was doing? If I was, why did I continue to do it? Still my world hadn’t ended from that brief encounter, if you could even call it that, and I felt better now about being seen from a distance.

Not that I became more brazen immediately or went out of my way to be seen but I pushed my limits harder and started going out for walks earlier and earlier. I forced myself not to run when someone was within half a block, stall for time by looking in my purse or turn around and go back. It wasn’t easy to do I was so nervous but as no hue and cry or crowds chased me it did help me to relax and become more confident.

Confident enough that I was able to walk past a parked car with someone in it without rushing by. Confident enough to bravely enter a store and buy a chocolate bar. Confident enough to walk past other people walking down the same sidewalk without hesitating or dithering or turning my head. Heady stuff!

Not quite confident enough to do more than smile at a passing wolf whistle or offer of a ride. Not for another few weeks anyway. A further dare to myself made me get into a cab and try to appear relaxed enough to talk with the driver. He accepted me as a female, even my voice. Not that I did much of the talking. My confidence and self esteem soared!

When he parked in front of the house I was supposedly living in I started to get out but he grabbed my arm and pulled me across the seat for a goodnight kiss. His lips were pressed against mine, his tongue teasing my lips apart before I knew what was happening. Wonder of wonders I responded eagerly; teasing the tip of his tongue with mine as it slid between my lips.

Knowing that my voice had passed I did place an ad on an adult site using the name Amanda. I responded to messages and had a few live chats posing as a female, exulting in the idea that I could excite men into masturbating and even climax them just from the sound of my voice. I did get into it and became fairly excited myself quite often but never did more than rub myself through my panties or pinch my nipples under my bra after the one time a guy wanted me to and I discovered how sensitive my nipples were and how sensual it was. Things might have stayed the way they were if I hadn’t pushed the limits again and confessed to a few selected others that I wasn’t completely a woman. Only few people seemed shocked and hung up on me. The rest seemed to not only accept my obsession but became even more excited by the idea! I was in heaven. Then one day as I was surfing the net, I received a message from a guy who wanted me to video chat with him. I had grown confident enough to do video chats and I accepted his proposal and messaged him I would video chat with him later that night.

I got ready as usual, got dressed up fully, put my makeup on properly and I was ready. I turned on my pc and found the guy was online too. I didn’t know his real name, only his user name which was “Sky534”. I was quite excited even though I had done video chats with guys before. I messaged him that I was ready and opened up the video chat. There was something wrong with the video; all I could see was dark lines. The guy on the other end told me that he could see my video and it was coming fine. But my side of video transmission was just blank. I tried a few times but it was still not working.

Then I needed to go pee and left the computer as it was. After I came back, the video chat had been already disconnected and the guy was offline. I felt a little frustrated now as I was expecting to have a hot video chat.

As I was thinking about what to do next, my phone rang. It was Harry, my close friend from work. I answered the phone. As he spoke, my heart started to beat faster. He mentioned that he was video chatting with a woman but saw my room in the video and was shocked. I had invited Harry over to my house a few times in the past and he knew what my room looked like. What were the chances that this would actually happen, I had never imagined. But there I was talking with harry, trying to invent some lie to tell him over the phone but nothing good was coming in my mind. He said he took screenshots of the video and had captured images of my room and also of the woman in the video, just in case there was something going on. I could feel my stomach just squeeze tightly inside me, I felt very scared.

How was I supposed to get out of this situation now, I had no idea. I tried one more time to tell harry that he might have just mistaken and it might just be some coincidence but he kept insisting and told me he was already coming over. I panicked and tried to tell him we could do that next morning but then the door bell rang. I jumped, scared completely. Harry had already arrived at the door. It was already too late to take off everything now.

I realized that my secret would finally be revealed. With a deep breath, I went to open the door to face Harry.

The End

[cd-stories]

Crossdresser in Paradise

Henry and Lisa have been married for many years. During that, time both of them made many little personal discoveries. Among them was Henry’s passion for cross-dressing. When it came out, Lisa was shocked, but understanding. She did not threaten to leave him. Instead, they talked about it objectively. Seeing him in his feminine clothing did not arouse her. She accepted that he needed this in his life and that she could not deny him this. So they agreed to a compromise.

One weekend a month, Henry could wear openly any and all feminine items of clothing that he wished. It started innocently enough, under dressing in just panties, and tights or pantyhose. Slowly over time, Henry began to explore the fullness of his desires. Lisa while not turned on in the slightest, wanted her husband to enjoy his weekends, so she started coaching and helping him to be more feminine in appearance, and mannerisms while dressed. Soon, she began to feel comfortable thinking of Henry more as a woman. He became her girlfriend. They mostly hung out around the house. She managed from time to time to get him out of the house in clothing that, except under scrutiny, looked masculine. She began calling him Marissa. So Marissa and Lisa became great girlfriends spend each of her weekends together. It wasn’t long after becoming Marissa, that they satarted to have conversations about many interesting topics, from anal, role-play, to lesbian and gay fantasies, as well as many straight fantasies involving other men.

For the next couple of months nothing changed. Then one weekend, Lisa took the Friday off from work and put a plan into place, providing Marissa a special night with new clothes and some hot make out session. Lisa revealed her desire to take Marissa with a strap on. Marissa knowing that this was part of both their fantasies to explore, eagerly accepted and soon Lisa was pounding Marissa roughly every month, and sometimes in between as Henry too. This again seemed to reach a plateau where they were happy, everything was smooth they were enjoying many aspects of Henry’s desires and found a few new ones for Lisa. She never forgot the conversation about fantasies with Marissa and was determined to help her husband live them.

It was Henry’s weekend, and Lisa had made plans for them. Once Henry became Marissa, she would get her dressed to go out this time fully as Marissa. When Henry got home, Lisa had him take a shower and shave everything closely. When he got out, she helped to towel her dry and apply lotion all over her body. This caused some amorous tendencies that Lisa had to squash and keep them on track. She had Marissa put on a matching black silk and lace bra and bikini set. She produced some breast forms to fill out her bra. She had her put on a black garter belt and stockings to match the rest of her lingerie. Once she was done with that, she sat her down and went to work on her makeup, taking time to accentuate her face in the right way so as to enhance the femininity. Once she was satisfied with the makeup she helped her into a floral print dress with a skater style skirt that fell just slightly above the knees. Next came the 3 inch heels, and her purse which Lisa had put all of her ID and important needs during her shower. They were ready to go out on the town. Marissa was a nervous wreck shaking and looking all around as they left the house. “What if someone sees us?” he wondered.

Lisa reassured her, “Anyone looking would see two women out on the town for the night and nothing more. However, we are going to a drag show so there shouldn’t be anyone there that we know. Even if we do they will not likely say anything because of where we are.”

They made it to the bar without Marissa fainting although he was almost hyperventilating. He was oblivious to the stares as they made their way into the bar and found a small table to sit at. Lisa ordered them some drinks. Marissa took the first drink and slammed it down his throat, causing first a small head rush and second a reapproach from Lisa on how to drink properly, by sipping through the straw. When the second drink arrived, Marissa sucked down about half before Lisa stopped her again. “Slowly” she chided again, “We have all night, just relax, and enjoy the show.” Soon enough the floorshow started and drag queen after drag queen took the stage performing, and showing off their assets. Marissa had begun to relax, and enjoy the show, when a man suddenly walked up to the table and asked if he could join them. He looked horrified at Lisa who calmly said sure. He asked what they were drinking and ordered a round for the table. As they sat sipping their drinks and generally chatting, Lisa told him that they were sisters and Marissa was single and she was married but they weren’t really looking for anything but a good time tonight. He graciously acknowledged the let down with a smooth comeback ” How about we just enjoy the evening as it comes with no expectations one way or the other?”

Smiling they agreed and after several more drinks they managed to get Marissa on the floor with Gary. They danced for several numbers Marissa losing quite a few inhibitions to the alcohol and to all the attention from Gary. When they returned the table she grabbed Lisa and went to the ladies room, after doing their business, he was frantically trying to get Lisa to get them home before Gary found out he was a man and hit him or something. Lisa calmed her down, knowing that some of it was the alcohol but also knowing that she had the server dilute his drinks so that Marissa was more in control than the alcohol. “Just let it happen, nothing will happen that you don’t want.” Lisa said. Lisa led her back to the table, and she looked at Gary, “Gary, Marissa here wants to take you home with us, I told her as long as you were OK with it, that you and her could use our spare room for the night but I will not be joining you two. What do you think?”

Marissa’s mouth dropped open. Gary immediately said okay.

He paid their tab, put his arm around Marissa waist, and walked out to Lisa’s car. He opened the back door allowing Marissa to get in. She flashed her stockings as she slid in. Then he went around and slid in next to her. Lisa drove, as she drove she couldn’t help but watch in the mirror as Gary gently and loving made out with Marissa. At one point as he was kissing her neckline gently, he moaned and pushed him away, “I can’t do this, I’m… I’m… I’m a man.”

Gary looked him in the eyes, and said, “I know” and brought him in for a passionate kiss. Marissa was shocked and just couldn’t resist his kiss as they drove towards home. Marissa felt like a crossdresser in Paradise.

The End.

[cd-stories]

Caught in the Act

“My name is Roger. I am a 29 years old, white, a little skinny , and a married (secret) crossdresser. I really love wearing women’s clothes and I am crazy about pantyhose (and tights. I love the total coverage and the sensation that pantyhose gives me.

One afternoon my friend, Bob called me and asked to house-sit while he went on vacation. The house was empty, save for a table and four very comfy chairs. It had been renovated and listed for sale, so it was all new, but empty. He asked if I could keep an eye on things, take calls from realtors if they called, and go make sure everything was okay.

He gave me a key, and said I could do whatever I wanted while he was gone. I could ‘hang out’ or whatever. He knew I was studying for a certification, and mentioned it would be a nice, quiet place to get away. Immediately I formed a plan, seeing this as a golden opportunity unlike any other I’ve had in a very long time. I already knew what I wanted to wear, and I couldn’t wait until late at night when I could leave home, go to this empty house, change into my female persona, and enjoy some ‘me’ time. I love dressing completely from head to toe and always put on a wig, makeup, nails and the clothes when I dress up. It’s an exhilarating feeling. I had just bought some purple patterned pantyhose on clearance as well as a beautiful pink bustier with black lace. I would wear that under a shiny black 3/4 sleeve top, and a very tight, sexy, ribbed black tube skirt. I would of course finish off the ensemble with bright red nails to match the hooker-red lipstick I would apply, and a pair of patent black Mary Jane’s with a 4″ heel. I was already hard just thinking about it.

I got everything together, making sure I had what I needed, including a spare pair of hose (always have a spare, I hate runs), my makeup, lube, and the rest of the outfit that I couldn’t easily wear under my man clothes. With that all done, all I had to do was wait…for two more days! That’s like two MONTHS for my level of excitement and anticipation. I wasn’t simply planning on dressing up and prancing around an empty house at night…I wasn’t planning on being the only one to enjoy what I would be wearing!

With plenty of time to plan and wait, I crafted an ad online. I had always fantasized to spend some time with other crossdresser. Having a place to host, in this case the empty house, while not glamorous, gives me a much better chance than I would otherwise have had. So as you might imagine, I got quite a few more replies than usual…of course, that means nothing if they’re all flakes who just want dirty talk and pictures to get them off.

I eliminated most of the replies and narrowed it down to two that seemed promising. One of the ‘finalists’ was only available that night, which was not possible, so now I was down to one. I was hoping this would pan out. I’d hate to miss out on this opportunity. I only had a few days. So this last prospect sounded really serious. He just needed 20 minutes notice to get there, and promised he would show up. Believe it when I see it, but nonetheless, I was pumped, excited, nervous, scared… all the normal emotions I always feel when arranging a meet up with a complete stranger. My biggest fantasy is to find a regular who lives alone and lives really close to me, like walking distance, where I could keep a closet full of clothes and shoes at his place, and a drawer full of makeup in the bathroom. I guess I’m looking for a ‘double life.’ So far, this is still just a fantasy. Back to reality…

We agreed on a time, and he wanted me waiting inside the house, where he would come fully dressed up as well. We would simply both enjoy the moment as pretty women. The next two days dragged on and on…

The day had finally arrived. I had been imagining to the scene in my head for the last 48 hours, and finally the day, or more accurately, the night, was finally here. At about 8 pm I put everything I needed.. my makeup, wig, fake tits, shoes, dresses etc. in my gym bag. I told my wife I was going to a get together with school friends. I threw the bag in my car and drove the short distance to the empty house. Letting myself in with the key my friend had given me, I locked the door behind me and went upstairs to the bathroom.

In the bathroom I removed my outer clothes, put on the bra and panty, my fake breast form and applied my makeup. I felt really sexy and hot while I was feminizing myself fully from head to toe. After my foundation, bronzer and blush, I applied my eye shadow, eye liner, and hooker red lipstick. Then I put on the red dress and black pantyhose that I just brought recently.

I then put on my wig, clipped on a pair of dangly earrings, and slipped into my Mary Jane heels, my legs looking hot as they maneuvered into the shoes. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was exploding with feminine sensation throughout my body. I would so love to go out like this any time I wanted, day, night, to a mall, Wal-Mart, around town…but obviously, that’s not a reality.

Then, I get a text from him. He asked if I was there. I told him I was, I was ready too. He said he was leaving his house now, which would put him about a half hour later than what we had set up, already being ten minutes late. I have hours, so it’s not a huge deal, but I hate waiting around for someone. Then of course I start to think he’s just playing games, it’s happened before…I’d be all ready, fully done up, guy said he was on his way, never hear from him again. Some people just like playing games. My phone was almost dead, so I hoped it lasts long enough to continue communicating with him, that is if he’s really coming. About 20 minutes later he texts me again…he’s pulling in the long driveway. He finally arrived at the doorstep, I went to greet him, a bit nervous but excited at the same time. He seemed to be excited and a bit nervous to see me as well. He was looking hot in a beautiful red flouncing dress with nice heels. He was slim and looked quite feminine indeed. I was happy with what I was seeing.

“Hi, you look lovely. Thanks for having me.” He said.

“You look great too and it’s a pleasure.” I replied.

We go inside and sit on the chair. We start our conversation by telling each other a bit about ourselves. He tells me her feminine name is Samantha and he has been cross-dressing for the past 10 years. It was really exciting to have another crossdresser to talk with. I was really enjoying the moment and I had a lot in my mind about what to do next. But then, all of sudden, he comes really close to me and kiss my lips.

I get shocked not knowing what to do but it felt good. I wanted to stop him but he was just too good to resist. I did fantasize about making out with another crossdresser but that was just a thought. Now, it was happening right before my eyes.

He then slides his hands inside my dress. I was turned on immediately and my feminine senses go off the roof. We kiss each other passionately. Then, he puts his hands around me and unzips my dress. I feel very submissive at that moment; Samantha was really good at this I thought. Then he grabs my fake breast and the sensation was something I had never felt before. He gets me out of my dress and makes me sit on his lap. He then starts caressing my legs and my chest very gently. Then as he was going for the back of my bra, the front door opens suddenly. It was Bob; he was back from his vacation early. He instantly turns red with anger realizing there was unwanted visitor in his house. He starts yelling. He doesn’t realize it is me, his old friend. I don’t know how I would ever get out this situation now, I thought inside my head. I was caught.. caught in the act. I picked up my dress, put in on as fast as I could. Bob was still yelling. He was threatening to call the police now. I had no other choice but to admit that it was actually me.

“Bob, It’s me.. Roger! I am sorry but I didn’t expect you to come back this early” I said in an ashamed tone.

“WHAT?? What the hell Roger, what is all this?” He replied, still very angry.

“It’s okay Bob; I will explain everything to you.” I said, feeling very ashamed. I push Samantha to go and he leaves immediately. Now, I had to face Bob and explain everything to him. I was never so embarrassed in my life. Bob had calmed down a bit. Then, I sit down on the chair and with a deep breath, I start explaining everything to Bob about me being a crossdresser and what I had planned to do this evening. Bob then comes a bit closer. “I will forget everything that happened today if you do a favor to me.” Bob speaks.

“YES! I will do anything” I reply back immediately.

Then Bob comes really close to me and holds my hand. I look at him, I was nearly about to cry with guilt. Then with a smile on his face, he says “Well, actually.. I did fantasize about making out with a crossdresser someday. Are you up for it?”

I was shocked. ““No.. Bob, please don’t do this.” I cried, trembling. But it was already too late. “You actually do make a beautiful woman, Roger.” Bob then holds me in his arm. This was going to be a long night for me, something that turned out to be even crazier. “

The End

[cd-stories]

Obsessed with Sally

Although I was actually the 20 year old babysitter in my second semester at the local community college, at this moment I looked quite similar like Sally Douglas, the wife of Jack and the mother of their three children. I was dressed in one of Sally’s outfit in front of Jack, who had arrived home unexpectedly and found me dressed as his wife during one very snowy night.

Three years earlier, I had started babysitting a few nights a month for the Douglas family, and being a somewhat confused high school student at the time with no real relationships with girls of my own age, I soon found myself overtaken with a serious case of puppy love for Sally.

I was also a closet cross dresser, but only had a very limited wardrobe since I was still living at home with my parents and siblings. Sally was about 35 years at the time, in the midst of a second marriage to Jack, who was a few years older than her. Sally favored a stacked bob hairstyle that she could keep consistent by wearing two of her three wigs in that general style, with the third wig being a collar length style that was fuller in shape. As it was, Sally was simply amazing in style and personality, with a very sweet manner. She always seemed to dress in an alluring, yet understated feminine style, but I had found during my explorations of her closets that she had many trendy and sexier outfits in her closets for special events and evenings out. Jack was easily four inches taller than me and while carrying a few extra pounds, I could see why Sally was attracted to him.

He was a mid-level executive with a local electronics firm that frequently had him making extended overnight business trips around the country. As a result, he was rarely home when I was called to babysit, but unlike him, I was not sports oriented so we rarely had any in depth kind of conversations even when he was the one that drove me back and forth from my home on the nights and days I babysat for them.

However, Jack always Jack paid me a lot more than the rate Sally had established for my babysitting services, so I did like it when he was there as often as he was.

Sally had a son about 6 years old from her first marriage, while Jack’s kids were in college and did not live at home. Just before I started babysitting for her, Sally and Jack had adopted two infants, so there was definitely a need for someone to care for them on the nights that Sally and Jack had other commitments. While Jack was gone, Sally was also managing a shop owned by her family in Buffalo Hills a few nights a week, as well as most weekends. As a result, there was a recurring need for someone to babysit the children, and my parents had arranged for me to begin babysitting for them when the Douglas’ previous babysitter had graduated from high school and headed off to college. Sally and Jack had both wanted me to continue babysitting even after I graduated high school and had begun college.

I gladly welcomed the opportunity for both the chance to make some extra spending money, but mostly to continue my practice of secretly transforming myself into Sally for the few precious hours available to me between the time the children went to bed and when Sally or Jack were scheduled to return. For three years it had never been a problem, as they were both very punctual whenever I worked for them. I remember the first night that I was to babysit had me anxiously waiting to be picked up by Sally for the drive a few miles across town to her home.

I had previously seen Sally many times at social functions and church, and while I had never had any kind of conversation with her, from what I was able to overhear, she seemed to be well regarded by everyone, and she was the ideal wife, mom and lover in my young mind. So I was naturally excited and expectant waiting to finally be in direct proximity to her.

When her car pulled up and the horn honked, I said my goodbyes to my parents and was soon sitting beside the object of so many fantasy dreams, and the magic began almost immediately. After some brief chatting during the drive where I was relishing every second of being there beside her, drawing in her fresh perfumed scent, admiring the outfit she was wearing, and glancing at her profile without looking obvious, Sally explained, “Our last sitter was with us for almost four years, and we even went to his high school graduation, so I hope this will work out with you, too.” “That’d be really nice, Mrs. Douglas.” She parked at the curb in front of her home, and I noted it was a split level colonial in a pretty nice area of town. The status of the home was an indicator of a fairly well off middle class family, and I was already looking forward to seeing how she had decorated and furnished the inside. As I walked behind her along the walkway toward the home, I couldn’t help but admire how she looked from even that view. Not exactly gorgeous, but obviously the type of woman that I knew I would completely fall in love with, and I regretted immediately the age difference between us…she would always be unobtainable for me.

As we reached the door, I waited while she used her key to unlock the door, and I noted that I was probably only an inch taller than her. I had a fairly lean build, so I was already wondering if I would be able to fit comfortably in her outfits. For the past few years, I had dabbled with dressing in women’s clothing, with most of my pieces liberated from the occasional charity clothing drives supported by our church. Nothing sexy, but I had so far collected a few skirts, blouses and two dresses.

If Sally was a size 8 or larger, I knew that I would be able to fit into her things, and I was already longing to check her hamper to see what was there. I managed to control my desires for the first several times babysitting for Sally, but one evening I discovered a very alluring black bikini left to dry on a rack in the laundry/utility room. Of course, other than imagining how it looked on Sally, I was next wondering how it might look and feel on me, and it seemed like hours had passed before I was certain her kids were sleeping soundly. Satisfied that now was as long as I could wait, as I wanted to be sure that I would have enough time to experience wearing the bikini before carefully restoring everything as it was.

I was extremely nervous as I made sure the den drapes were fully closed, which was next to the laundry/utility room. I knew what I wanted to do was wrong, but I could not resist the desire, so minutes later, I had been standing naked in the laundry area holding Sally’s bikini in my hands. I distinctly remember how I had admired the texture of what I realized was a faux leather-like fabric. It certainly gave me a new appreciation for Sally’s sexiness, since the bikini would not cover much any woman’s body. After slipping into the bikini, I was happy that it fit my waist and hips.

The top was equally form fitting, although I clearly was missing the essential flesh to fill out the cups. While sexually stimulating, it was an incomplete feeling, as I knew I needed to truly be as feminine as possible, to include hair, makeup and even a hint of Sally’s perfume. Of course, I satisfied my urges, and was careful to not get my wetness on the bikini fabric.

From that point forward, I was intent to make my transition to Sally as complete as possible, even if I had to bring my own wig in the form of a Halloween fright wig that was not too bad looking once it was brushed out. However, that turned out to not be necessary, as my next guilt ridden babysitting job led me to a thorough inspection of Sally’s bedroom, which revealed two of her wigs and an empty wig form, which meant Sally was wearing that one this particular evening.

As a result, from that point forward, I would always have the benefit of Sally’s hair style when I dressed as her. Sally also had so many wonderful makeup and beauty products in both the upstairs full bath and the downstairs half bath. In actuality, the half bath had a nicer and more complete assortment, and it was the room where I did most of my transformations. I began to practice my makeup skills virtually every time I was babysitting. Since my intent was to emulate Sally, I took care to notice the way she wore make up for regular functions, as well as when she dressed up for what was obviously a special event or function, such as New Year’s Eve. I also had the family’s photo albums from the den to use as guides, and these sometimes inspired me to capture the exact look, such as a photo from when she was out with a girlfriend, with both of them wearing the classic little black dress at an upscale bar. Sally was consistent with never once arriving home earlier than she stated before leaving, and often she would call to give me any update as the evening went on, so on those evenings, I knew almost to the minute how long I could stay in character.

It was always so amazing to answer the phone while I was dressed as her and talk for a few minutes, giving her every assurance that the kids were great and were now sleeping soundly. How could anything bad happen to the kids when “mom” was so close to come immediately to address every need? The evening when everything changed for me was a chilly Friday in January. The now six year old son was away at a band camp for the entire weekend, so after putting the two young children to bed at 7:00 PM, I had absolute freedom to transform myself into Sally.

Although the forecast had been for otherwise, snow started falling at a rate where it quickly began to accumulate. However, I did not notice that as I selected that night’s outfit and settled in at the makeup table in the downstairs bath. As the snow fell, I was totally unaware of the change in the weather, as every moment brought me to look more like the woman I adored. My feminine transformation began with undressing completely from my boy clothes and then slipping on a pair of Sally’s black satin panties and a lacy black underwire bra. I then stuffed the bra cups with faux breasts made from an old pair of stockings.

Sally’s size 34B breast size was perfect for me, and I happily emulated her by matching the breast forms to fit comfortably in her bras. I also wore a pair of nude pantyhose augmented with the set of foam hip pads that I had created months ago to give me a more curvaceous and feminine body, and it really gave the impression of wider womanly hips once I put on a dress or skirt.

I gingerly began my makeup ritual of foundation preparation. Having literally no facial hair and little signs of acne gave me a good platform to work with. I used a somewhat lighter liquid foundation than my actual skin tone, but it was only a subtle difference, and I then used a light dusting of powder to set it. Since I had enough time to do a thorough makeup removal, I applied black eyeliner to frame my eyes, and then delicately applied mascara to my lashes, not too much, just right. Then I finished the eyes with a blended mix of shimmery taupe and light blue eye shadow.

With a somewhat practiced manner, I then feathered the eye shadow to a nice effect before leaning back to assess my efforts. I was very pleased and smiled as I reached for a cranberry red lipstick. Pulling off the top, I turned the tube and smiled even more as I saw the well used shape of the lipstick emerge. I loved the idea that the last person to have used this lipstick was Sally, herself, and each time I used her lipsticks, it was a loving touch of her own kisses that adorned my lips. After carefully applying a coating of the lipstick, I used a tissue to imprint the lipstick, and placed the kissed tissue to the side as I deftly used a brush to add blush to my cheeks. Looking at myself in the makeup mirror, I could not help but smile as I turned side to side to inspect my results. All in all, a bit understated, as Sally would do, herself, and I slid the chair back and turned to glance at tonight’s outfit. A 3/4 length sleeved satin and rayon top with an emerald green and black leopard spot pattern, and a black pencil skirt were the main elements, with a pair of 3 inch strappy back black heels to complete the look. By this time, I was totally at ease wearing high heels, and loved the way they set off my legs. I also relished how the heels forced me to assume a much more feminine gate with a subtle hip sway when I walked.

I slipped the skirt up and zipped the back, and then fastened the button tab to keep the zipper in place. It fit perfectly, as I already knew it would, as I had worn it a few times with other tops, but tonight was to be my first time wearing the green and black top. I then slipped on the heels and fastened the buckles and stood. Next, I took Sally’s medium length wig and adjusted it into place, perfectly framing my face and falling to just above the shoulder line.

I felt almost complete as Sally at that moment and only needed earrings and jewelry to finish the look. I put on a pair of dangly screw back earrings, three gold bangles on one wrist and single, heavier bracelet on the other, finished off by two rings on my wedding finger, wishfully thinking of them as an actual engagement ring and a wedding band… oops, one more thing, since I would even have time to shower to clean up after my time as Sally, two light spritzes of a flowery perfume.

Oh my god, I thought as I turned and looked at my reflection in the full sized mirror. I saw in the reflection a younger version of Sally, me! As any good wife and mother, I knew that I should take a quick check on the children, and I effortlessly moved up the stairs and turned the corner which is when I noticed the accumulation of snow.

Easily four inches had fallen, and it was still coming down heavily, and the snow plows had not yet even touched the street. I sensed that Sally would not be able to travel home that night with the snowy weather, and at that very moment the phone rang. I stepped quickly to the phone, “Hello, Douglas residence,” I answered in my boy voice, but in all other respects I was the woman of the house. ���Hi, honey,” Sally replied, “I just wanted to check on things… and, I know this is unexpected, but it looks like the roads aren’t going to be clear until tomorrow morning…” “I know, I was just looking outside.” “Well, I already called your parents and they’re okay if you could spend the night.” My heart leapt with joy, “Uhm, I guess that’s okay then. I don’t mind.” “Are you sure? I could ask Thelma to come over, instead.” Thelma was Sally’s single older sister who lived nearby in the next town. While generally a very pleasant woman, and sometimes quite funny, she had somehow not been blessed with the beauty that Sally had inherited, but she definitely had a much more shapely and full figure. “Oh no, the roads look pretty bad, I’m worried she might have real trouble…” “Okay, you’re sure, then?” “Totally, the kids and I’ll do fine,” as I admired my reflection in the picture window with the snow continuing to fall outside. “Just in case the babies need anything, would you mind sleeping upstairs… you can stay in my bed.”

“Are you sure? I just figured I’d use your son’s bed.” “No, no, that’s too small for you. It’s fine. The sheets are fresh, and it’ll make me feel better knowing you are there, okay?” “Well, okay, I guess.” “Alright, I’ll call you in the morning. You won’t mind feeding the kids and getting them cleaned and changed before I get there, will you?” “Of course not, and they’ll be great as always. You don’t have to worry.” With an obvious tone of relief, Sally quietly said, “I feel so much better knowing you’re there, and please, just make yourself at home.” “Okay, Mrs. Douglas, see you tomorrow.” “Night, night,” and she was gone.

Breathlessly, I considered how perfect it would be to actually sleep wearing one of her negligees or night gowns in her own bed! Oh, this was heaven! I peeped into the children’s bedroom and saw them both sleeping soundly. I quietly stepped into the room and checked on them both, such sweet babies. Satisfied that the children were fine, I slowly backed out and gently closed the door.

I was actually weak kneed at that moment, and felt in awe about Sally’s ability to be the perfect mom. With the whole evening now totally uninhibited by any need to transform back to my boy mode, I decided to emulate being Sally as the hostess of an imagined get together with her neighbors. I thought my choice of outfit was nicely suited to that type of social engagement, and as I passed by the kitchen, I took a can of ginger ale from the refrigerator.

I intended for the ginger ale to be my white wine, and headed down the stairs to the entertainment room that was opposite to the den. The entertainment room had a modern theme, with sleek black leather furniture, a large flat screen TV and a very nice stereo system. The room also had a bar set with five bar stools and all of the fixings for proper entertaining, and the lighting mood could be set to a softer tone for what I imagined to be a more intimate setting. As I poured the ginger ale into a champagne flute I noticed the only flaw with my transformation to Sally, my finger nails. They were drab and hardly feminine looking. I knew that Sally had several packages of press on nails, and while I had never used them before, I decided tonight required perfection. I seated myself again at the downstairs makeup table and carefully read the instructions on one of the packages. Pretty simple, and the nail polish remover would make it easy to remove them in the morning.

I picked the French manicure style, since it was the most numerous of the packages, and after a few false steps, finally had each of my hands transformed into much more feminine looking style. The false nails extended beyond my normal length, and I was surprised at how different it felt to pick things up while wearing them. I thought briefly about how hard it would be to unzip the skirt or do almost anything else in the morning, but figured that I would remove the press on nails the first thing before having to do anything. Of course, the first task at hand was to re-position my full hardness, which had become uncomfortable as I had worked on applying the press on nails. I usually tucked when I dressed, but somehow, I had slipped out of place. I loved the look of my now totally feminine left hand holding the hem of the skirt as my right hand slipped into the pantyhose.

As I touched myself, the feeling of the nails had an amazing effect on me. They really changed the sensation of touch, and it was a bit awkward forcing my hardness back into position, but as I finished, I once again had a nice smooth feminine front. Pleased with the now total transformation, I decided that I would hold off masturbating until I changed into whichever negligee or nightgown that caught my eye later in the evening.

I was actually quite proud of my ability to resist the usual temptation, but my sexual satisfaction was secondary to me fully assuming the role of Sally as the hostess, and I hurried back to attend to my imaginary “guests.” Holding my champagne glass of ginger ale, I turned the stereo on and dialed in one of the local pop stations and ‘Womanizer’ by Britney Spears was playing. I couldn’t resist starting to twist and dance to the music the way real women and girls would do. Hips swaying, mouthing the words, and playfully brushing at my hair as I moved, I was so taken in the moment that I never heard the front door open, the stomping off of the snow, or the steps on the stairs. But I definitely heard the questioning word that came from Jack, “Carole?” I almost dropped the champagne glass as I otherwise froze in place. “Honey, what’s going on, I thought…” and then the realization hit him, I wasn’t Carole. I turned to face Jack with tears welling up in my eyes, as I murmured, “No, Mr. Douglas, it’s me, Kevin.”

The sound of my voice was the only thing that gave identity to the person who in all other respects looked like Carole from across the room. “What’s going on, why are you… I mean, why?” Tearfully, the crying started immediately as I clutched the champagne glass with both hands to my faux bosom, my body racked with sobs. I couldn’t bear to look at his face as I realized the sense of betrayal of trust I knew my actions had caused. I stood there, sobbing, for about the longest minute of my life, my mind racing with thoughts of the anger my parents would have, as well as the public humiliation that was surely to come.

Jack then told me to clean myself up and said he would wait for me downstairs. I went to the bathroom and started undressing as fast as I could. I felt so ashamed with so many questions in my head. I kept wondering how I would be able to explain myself to Jack. It was one of the longest night I ever had. I cleaned myself up and went downstairs. Jack was sitting on the couch looking much tensed. I apologized to him, crying all the time. He then told me that he would forgive me and forget everything but I would never be allowed to babysit for them again. I agreed and thanked him for being so generous and left the house, not once looking back.

The End

[cd-stories]

Becoming Amy

I am a young man of mixed heritage. My father was black, my mother Asian. My features reflect that mixed heritage, my skin like coffee with two creams, my eyes are dark and my hair is straight. I keep my hair at shoulder-length and cut in a modern fashion. I’m very slim, have almost no body-fat and almost no body-hair. My name is Sean. I had been quite feminine since my childhood but never really exposed it outwardly. I’m not trying to sound arrogant, but I’ve been told by many people that I’m quite attractive. Never handsome, just “attractive.”

I had just reached my 27th birthday when my best friend Shauna said, “Sean, I want you to come to my house tonight for a special birthday present.” Shauna is white and a few years older than me. We’ve been friends for years and love to laugh and gossip. Shauna is also a bit of a slut. She loves to tell me who and how she got laid the night before. She is a kind and wonderful friend, someone I could not live without.

I answered, “Alright, alright, what’s this ‘special present’?”

She laughed and said, “Wait and see.”

I got to Shauna’s house around 9 p.m. and had brought a bottle of champagne of all things. She met me at the door and laughed at my gift. “Come on in. Let’s give this a try.”

I entered her house and we went to the den. The bottle was fairly cold, so she brought glasses and we popped it right there. It was a very good champagne, something I’d spent a bit of money on.

I said, “The gift, the gift, what is it?”

“Wait, wait, don’t be in such a rush.”

We laughed and gossiped about people we knew and the bottle was soon finished. I could feel the alcohol in my system, but neither of us was really buzzed. Finally Shauna got to the point, “OK Sean, time for your gift.”

She stood up and took me by the hand. She led me to her bedroom and had me sit in a comfortable chair in front of a brightly lit makeup table. I was confused. What was going on?

She said, “Tonight I’m going to give you something special. Tonight I’m going to make you up.”

“What!”

She started laughing and went on, “You are my very best friend and I know you very well. Somewhere in that dark mind of yours, I know you want to try being a woman, or at least for one night.” How could she possibly know that one of my fantasies was to be made up?

To be a woman even if for a short time?

I said, “No way.” pretending to be miffed at her suggestion.

“Liar, you know you want this.”

I also laughed and said, “OK, OK, let’s try this. How do we do this?” “Just sit back and let me do take care of things.”

She then began to change my life.

She slowly and carefully began to apply makeup to my face. She stopped and explained each step and function. Face-powder and rouge, lipstick and mascara. She spent a lot of time on my eyes and they popped with beauty. She said, “I picked out these dark colors to match that beautiful skin of yours.”

In an hour or so, I saw myself become transformed from an ‘attractive’ man to a very beautiful woman. Damn I was hot. I turned my head back and forth trying to take it all in. I was really good looking, really beautiful. Shauna brushed my hair and pulled it into a ponytail. I looked like a very young Halle Berry. I mean I was really stunning.

I said, “Wow, wow, how did you know, how were you able to do this?”

She laughed and laughed, then gave me a big hug. She said, “Happy Birthday Sean. I love you.”

I stood up and twirled a little and we both laughed. She said, “Want more?”

“What do you mean?”

“Want to go further, maybe try on some of my clothes?”

Oh my God, what was happening?

I said, “Alright, I’m really getting into this.”

She dimmed the lights very low as she sensed I was slightly embarrassed.

She said, “Strip, get out of those clothes.”

I slowly undressed in the dim light and was soon naked in front of my best friend. Shauna reached put and began to stroke my special part. “Wow, much nicer than I’d have thought.”

“Cut it out, what do you want me to wear?” She went to her dresser and looked through her lingerie. She found a black pair of panties that were slightly larger than a G-string. She said, “Try these on. You’ll have to tuck your buldge in to get into them.”

She handed me the panties, then I attempted to tuck . No luck, it was pretty hard at the moment.

We both laughed at my predicament, but I put the panties on anyway. She said, “Wait’ll gets soft, then you can try and tuck it back in.” She went on, “Hmmmm, a bra, a bra. Here, try this on, it’s got a lot of padding.”

I put the bra on and had a little trouble with the clasp, so Shauna helped me. By then my private part had softened, so I pushed it back and in place. Shauna said, “Shoes, shoes.”

She went through her closet and pulled out a pair of black stiletto pumps. She said, “These are my biggest pair, so you might be able to get into them.”

She was right, the shoes were very tight, but I managed to get my feet into them.

I was teetering as I stood, so Shauna held my hand and helped me to the mirror. Wow! The reflection I saw was that of a very tall, very slim super-model. I was fucking hot!

“You like?”

“I like.”

“Turn around and look at your ass.”

I turned around then peered over my shoulder. What a great ass.

She said, “Follow me.” and took me by the hand. She led me to the den and we sat on the sofa. She said, “Does this turn you on?” I could feel myself try to harden in its tucked away position so I said, “Yes, very much. Much more than I thought this would.”

She said, “Look, you are my very best friend, so don’t be weirded out at what I’m going to do.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just go along with whatever I do.” She then reached down and begun to massage my body. I could feel the sensation harden and strain. She pulled my panty down. “Wait a minute.” she said and dashed out of the room. She returned with a hand-held mirror and gave it to me. She said, “Look at yourself as I massage your body.” I held the mirror in one hand and looked at my beautiful made-up face. Shauna stroked my body. I was excited as she touched me and I looked at my stunning reflection. How well did Shauna know me? Pretty damn well. My life was now very different than it was a few hours ago. I was enjoying my feminine sensations.

The days and weeks that followed were wonderful. Shauna helped me find new clothes, new outfits, and new makeup. I totally surprised myself with how much I enjoyed dressing and acting like a woman.

Shauna was an excellent teacher and gave me many, many instructions on how to act, talk and even walk. Many nights were spent at Shauna’s house playing dress-up. God I just loved it. That is how I started to become Amy.

The End

[cd-stories]

Jim’s Office Adventure

It had been four years working as an administrator within a typical manufacturing company. Apparently our company made something to do with automobile engines, but it was all beyond me. Just get the job done well and people saw me as professional and hard working. In the modern world it was accepted that guys could be administrators just as much as girls could be mechanics and to tell the truth, so long as I got the work done I was pretty much off everyone’s radar. Just ‘that guy in the admin team’ I suppose. If I thought about it I guess I should have known that it would all come out eventually, but I never imagined anything quite like what I’m going to recall here.

I was the only guy working in the administrative department with five other women under Lucy, the head administrator. We all got along, but that’s about as far as it went towards me. I still didn’t feel part of the collective, but didn’t feel any animosity from the other girls either. They were friendly enough, but, let’s say, I wouldn’t expect to be asked out on the town with them. I had been cross dressing for what now seemed like a very long time. Initially it was shifty rummaging through female relatives drawers, longing glances through lingerie catalogs as a teenager, ending up with a rather extensive wardrobe of clothes, shoes and underwear now.

Living by myself allowed me the privacy that I liked to practice my fetish. I never really wanted to be a woman, but just loved the sensuality and power I felt dressing up as one. It always seems so unfair that women had all the glamour and fun! And I always felt a new confidence when I went out dressed up that I didn’t have in my ‘regular’ life.

My physical appearance helped a lot. Partly it was down to luck and my genes, but also diet and exercise that maximized my physical assets. I was naturally tall and skinny: 5 ft 11 in my bare stockings. Regular work outs at the gym kept me toned, avoiding bulking out too much! This left me with slender, shapely legs and kept my body and shoulders slim.

At 23 years old I looked young and fresh, and my mother’s genes had blessed me with a boyish delicate face and appearance. As a result I normally found that I had to try to ‘butch’ up for my daytime persona with crisp white shirts and shapeless trousers!

Like a lot of crossdressers I’d tried to give it all up, bundling all my clothes into bins and swearing to stop it all (usually after some near miss…), but it always seeped back into my life. At the time I was happy and comfortable with my lifestyle. I had a nice steady job during the day and an alternative female persona for evenings and nights out.

Each existence was separate and never crossed-over except for really extra-ordinary circumstances. But then this is all about one of those occasions, which led on to so much more… Work officially finished at 12:00 on a Friday, but I had too much work to finish and had to carry on into the afternoon. Tonight I had other plans though.

Tonight I was meeting up with some of my ‘girl’ friends (my crossdresser friends) in town and had a weekend break planned. We’d booked a minibus for us all to go down to London for the weekend, spending some relaxing time in a posh 5 star hotel and evenings in some of our favorite alternative clubs. I couldn’t wait to get dolled up ready for our mini-adventure. The big problem was that I needed to be ready at 4:00 pm, which didn’t give me time to get home, change and get into town. That meant breaking my major ground rule of mixing business and pleasure. I had to get ready and dressed at work, and I had to bring in my weekend clothes to work. They were sat in my weekend bag, which I had brought in early and stashed out of sight under my desk. By 2:00 almost everyone in the building had left for the weekend.

There were a still a few engineers and executives about, but I was sure I hadn’t seen any girls around. I was planning to make a break for it to the ladies, so once I was inside there I was safe. A lot of the lights had already been turned out and the day was turning to winter dusk outside. I finished up my work and now it was time for me to get dressed up.

Handily the women’s toilets were located just out of sight from the office door a little along the corridor. By now I hadn’t seen anyone pass our office door for 20 minutes. I was certain there was almost no one else left here, but I felt a little tingle as I got up with my weekend bag to sneak to the ladies. With my heart beating hard I left the office and turned left down the corridor, pausing at the water cooler to take a slow drink and pretend to read one of the company’s motivational pieces on the news board. “OK, this is it,” I thought after no one had left the ladies for a good 5 minutes, “All the admin girls have left, it’s now or never”.

Confidently I picked up my weekend bag, slung it over my shoulder and moved quickly and quietly down the corridor, past the men’s room, and with one last cautious glace over my shoulder slipped into the sanctuary of the ladies toilet. My heart was still pounding as the automatic lights flickered on. No one in here — phew! Just to be sure I went into the second to last cubicle and locked the door. Now I could relax a little and get into my dressing routine. I quickly stripped off and filled the carrier bag I’d brought along with all my day clothes.

Last night I had spent a luxurious evening bathing, waxing, shaving and moisturizing my entire body. Now I stood for a moment enjoying the feel of my hands gliding over my soft smooth body. Sitting down on the loo I pulled on a pair a silky hold up stockings, the light fabric gliding easily up my freshly waxed legs. And with my pair of black leather boots that went up to just below the knee zipped on at least now I would appear ‘normal’ from under the toilet door in an emergency. Feeling much more relaxed now, I could really go to work on my female image. First I attached my wonderful C cup silicon fakes and blending in the edges with some foundation. I then got out my pocket mirror and starting to apply my makeup. Not too much, but enough to bring out some of the natural feminine look to my boyish face.

By keeping it low key I could normally pass without too many unwanted double takes. So, I applied some of my favorite foundation followed by a light dusting of blusher to bring out my cheekbones. Next I put on some dusky eye shadow to match my hazel color, followed by coal grey eyeliner to open up my eyes and the first coat of mascara.

My favorite subject at school was always art: who knew being so handy with a brush would come in so useful! The only real splash of color was reserved for my crimson lipstick, with a touch of lip gloss.

Tonight I was going for elegant and stylish, so standing up again I slipped on a delicate lacy black thong, followed by the matching bra. Then I wriggled into my killer Little Black Dress. I loved this dress and always pulled it out for a good night out. It hugged where it should, hid my worst bits and fitted like a dream.

I guess the way the hem line ended just below my stocking tops helped too! Next I applied some pre-prepared crimson painted nails and while I waited for them to dry I brushed on a second coat of mascara and fluttered my eyelashes to myself in my mirror. Finally I took my favorite brunette bob wig out of the box in my weekend bag and fixed it into place. It was a modern cut that angled forwards and down with a straight cut fringe.

It went very well with the young-classy-thing I was going for. With some luck I might make someone’s night in the bar tonight! Once I was happy with my appearance I gingerly opened the cubicle door to check myself out in the bathroom mirror and make any final adjustments. “Woh, cute honey,” I thought to myself.

I whispered another silent prayer to the cute gym instructor that had come up with the routines that had added shape to my cute ass. Just need a few tweaks to my blusher, tidy up a stray hair or two and I’m ready to hit the streets! I turned back to the cubicle and picked up my makeup bag off the toilet seat and put it next to the middle sink. I then leaned down to retrieve my day clothes and stuff them into my weekend bag. Now fully dressed I was enjoying the snug fit of my clothes and as I bent to pick up my bag I relished the feel of my black dress’s hem inching up the back of my thighs to reveal a peek of stocking top and bare flesh. Mmm.. that felt good as I kept one leg straight and paused bent over double reaching for my bag.

Just as I was enjoying the luxurious stretch down the back of my leg, I froze mid bend as I heard the outer door suddenly swing open. Panicking I stood upright again, but didn’t know what to do. The inner door opened and I heard heels tap across the tiled floor. “OK… OK… keep calm and casual,” I thought to myself.

My heart was beating so hard in my chest I felt sure anyone in the same room could hear. Clutching my bag I returned to the sink where I had left my makeup kit. By looking down slightly I could keep the fringe of my wig concealing my face. With some luck she’d go to a cubicle and I could slip out without any questions or confrontation.

Flicking my eyes up to the mirror I saw that I looked good enough to pass, it was just a pity I couldn’t do a final touch to my makeup. With a feeling of dread I felt the presence of someone walk behind me and take up position at the next sink. “Why had I taken the middle sink?” I thought to myself. “Oh no, now I’ve got to stay and do something at least else it looks odd.”.

I took out my blusher brush and touched up my face, trying desperately to look calm and collected. Glancing to my left in the mirror I saw Helen, one of the senior executives styling her hair with her fingers and a small can of hair spray. “Idiot!” I thought, “Of course there was Helen as well as the office girls.

I’d forgotten about the one female executive who could be working late in her office!” “God, these long meetings play havoc with my hair!” she said. “I’m sure it’s the air conditioner, but I always come out of that room looking a mess.” “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I mumbled in my feminine voice, desperate for something to say.

“And I’m supposed to be going out tonight,” she said, “now it’s too late to go home and I’ve got to keep these stuffy work clothes on.” So far she seemed far too preoccupied to notice me much, so with gathering confidence I chanced a longer look to my left. She was wearing a modern cut navy blue skirt suit, with a white blouse underneath.

The suit suited her figure well and true to Helen’s form the skirt was that little bit shorter than necessary for business. I had to admit that she looked good, just as she always did. She was rather short, under 5ft I estimated, but her sensuous curvy body and larger than average chest more than made up for it. Matching navy blue 3 inch high heels also helped disguise her height, with the added bonus of making the most of her heart shaped rear. And if she wasn’t eye catching enough there was the shock of fiery red hair which contrasted so well with her creamy white skin.

“No, you look great,” I replied “Just maybe lose a few buttons on your blouse and add some more makeup and you’ll be OK for bars.” I couldn’t believe what was going on here. I needed to leave and here I was having a conversation with one of the high level management dressed as a woman! I’d be lucky to keep my job if she realized.

“Oh, thanks,” said Helen. “Could I borrow some eyeliner? I don’t keep any at work.”

“Sure,” I replied, cursing myself for mentioning makeup. I rummaged in my makeup bag and passed her my eyeliner, without turning away from the mirror. I continued to tweak my hair and makeup while Helen concentrated on applying eyeliner. She finished what she was doing and passed me the makeup.

I turned to take it and fumbled it with the rest of my makeup back into my weekend bag. “Right I better get going,” I said, still trying to avoid eye contact with Helen. “OK. Me too, I’m about done in here. Thanks for the eyeliner again.” “No problem,” I replied. Turning to leave, we both made for the door and for an instant I looked straight at Helen.

There was a slightly quizzical look on her face, and then it was gone. I opened the door and pushed my way out into the relative freedom of the corridor. “Looks like you’re on for a big one,” she commented as she followed me out “What are you planning?” “Um… I’m meeting some friends in town and we’re going. down to London,” I mumbled.

“Uh huh…” she answered “… well you have fun” she finally said.

Still on edge I turned to go, but was called back after three steps. “Excuse me,” said Helen. “I hate to do this, really I do, but you do work here don’t you?”

“Sure,” I replied casually, screaming on the inside, “down in the finance office with Sue.” “Oh, just I haven’t seen you around much. Are you new?” “Yeah. I transferred from the Northern branch 3 months ago.” “Ah right I see.” There was another long pause, “sorry to do this, but can I see your ID? We’ve had a few security breaches recently and you can never be too careful.” “No problem,” I replied. I squatted down next to my weekend bag and made a big show of rummaging inside searching for my ID. Desperately I thought “What am I going to do now? I can’t show her my card!” “Sorry, I must have lost it somewhere,” I said with maybe a little too much confidence.

“Right.” said Helen. She sighed and finally added, “Well, would you mind coming with me while we sort all this out?” “Sure, but I do have to go soon you know.”

“Yes, this will all get sorted quickly one way or another,” she replied ominously. Feeling like I was falling in a dream I followed Helen back through my office past my desk and towards her executive office along the far side.

I’d never ventured into her office before and I was surprised how nice it was in here compared to out in the drones section. There were large windows down one side of the office, looking out over the landscaped grounds our office block sat in.

A large desk dominated one corner of the spacious office, with a wall of books and files to the left of it. In the opposite corner to the desk was a low coffee table surrounded by 6 easy chairs. Evidently this was where the deals were made.

The only other furniture to be seen were a selection of large foliage plants dotted around the room, Helen’s black leather high backed office chair and a further standard office chair pulled up to the other side of the desk. She went behind the desk and sat before motioning me to sit opposite her.

“OK then…” she said, “sorry, what did you say your name was?” “Rachel,” I blurted out, “Rachel Stevenson” “OK then Rachel. We need to find your ID in a hurry or get you cross checked with Security. What’s it going to be?”.

By now I’d resigned myself to losing my job and life as I knew it, so it was either humiliation now with Helen or humiliation with Helen and a selection of security guards as well. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. I tried to think of something clever and then it hit me.

“I am sorry but the truth is I am just here to fill in for Jim. You see, he’s my close friend and he wanted me to finish some of his work. Since, he had done me a big favor a few weeks ago; I came in to help him. Apparently he had some personal work to complete today. I am really sorry.” I said timidly “I shouldn’t have done this. Please don’t call the security.”.

“Well, why didn’t you say it before,” Helen exclaimed, “I know Jim, not personally but I have heard a lot about him. He’s a good worker. He must have had something really important to call you in.” Stunned, I just nodded.

I couldn’t believe that she really said that. I felt a moment’s pride at the realization that she hadn’t recognized me and believed my story. Helen got up from her desk and eased down finally. “You can go now” she said with softness in her voice. “Thank you so much,” I replied. “Have a nice weekend,” Helen said and we both walked out of the office.

I held my breath until I was out in the corridor. After what seemed an eternity, I was finally out of the building. I checked the time and there was still time to catch up with my friends. What an afternoon it turned out to be.

The End

[cd-stories]

The Punishment

It all started innocently enough. I never meant to do it, it just sort of happened. I got home from school, when I was in the 10th grade. I put my bag down on my desk, and noticed that mom had left the laundry basket on my bed. This was her signal that I was supposed to put the clothes away in my drawers, and bring down any dirty clothes I had.

So I put everything away, except when I came to the underwear, there was a problem. Mom had accidentally left one of Jody’s panties in my pile. Jody is my elder sister who is just 2 years older than me. I held her panty in my hands, feeling the silky material. I was a typical 10th grade boy, so as you can imagine, my mind raced at the thought that I was holding panties in my hand. I had sex on the mind all the time, and I had wanted to get into a lot of girl’s pants at school. For some reason, I had an urge to try them on, to see how they felt. I locked my door, closed all the shades, and put them on.

They were so different! Not rough or clingy like what I wore, but the smoothest, silkiest feeling, like I was wrapped in softness.

“Nick, are you in there? Why is your door locked!” said mom.

I didn’t know what to do, so I quickly pulled on my jeans, and then went to unlock the door.

“Why are all your blinds closed? What were you up to? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know” she said.

I was so close to being busted! I was lucky she didn’t see me. What would she have said?

“Come on, we’re late. We’re taking your father out to dinner tonight for his birthday. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh yeah” I said. She dragged me on out of the house, and we got in the car. With every step I took, I noticed the panties. The silkiness against my skin. I felt so turned on! I couldn’t explain it. And now I was wearing them in public! Without anybody knowing! When we sat down and the waitress came out to serve us, all I could think of was the fact that I was wearing panties, just like her. Needless to say, I was excited all night. When we got home, instead of putting the panties back in Jody’s room, I hid them in my closet. It was only a few days later that I wore the panties again. And again, I got really excited. So for some reason, I decided to sneak into my sister’s room. Nobody was home, so who would know?

I dug through her underwear drawer, until I found her bras. If the panties made me that excited, I wondered what the bra would do. I took it back to my room, and tried it on. That excited me even more, so I stuffed it with some of my socks, then put on a white T-shirt. You could clearly see the bra underneath, and it jutted out, like I had breasts. I almost came in my pants. I made myself climax, then quickly took everything off and hid it back in my closet. I felt shamed and embarrassed, but it was so exciting! I knew I was hooked, and would do it again tomorrow.

In fact, almost every day I would wear Jody’s under garments. I even wore the panties to bed one night. But they were starting to smell from having been worn too many times. So I reluctantly put them in the wash. I waited a few days, and then dug through Jody’s drawers when I had a chance to find them, or a similar pair.

Nobody would know a thing! Some time passed, and I was still doing it. It was so exciting that I wanted to try to push the envelope, and do something more daring. So I waited for a good time when nobody else was home, and went into Jody’s closet. I dug through all the things on hangers, until I found one of her blouses that might fit me. She didn’t wear it too often (I didn’t think), so she wouldn’t notice it. And there was a red plaid skirt that she used to wear to school, but didn’t anymore.

I took that too, and went back to my room. With the door locked, and dressed up in full female attire for the first time. It felt wonderful! When I was fully dressed, I laid on my bed like a girl does,and read a book. I slid forward a bit, and felt some warmth between my legs. I moved back and forth a couple of times, and bam! I climaxed.

I ran to get tissues to clean it all up. That was stupid of me! But for some reason, thinking of myself as a girl made me really turned on, and made me climax so easily! I wanted to be with a girl so much, but this was exciting too. I would just do both. If I could get Lynn, my crush, to go out with me, I’d still do this in my spare time. Perhaps, I could get some of her panties too. Then I’d be wearing *her* clothes. Now *that* sounded really exciting to me! Over the next few weeks, I kept dressing up. Sometimes with just the panties, but sometimes in full outfit. I stole a pair of pantyhose from the laundry room, and started wearing those too. The cotton crotch turned me on for some reason. I tried on some of Jody’s shoes, but they were too small. I found an old pair of mom’s, and I could get them on with a struggle. But I was afraid to try makeup or anything. That would be too hard to get on and off. But I did take one of Jody’s necklaces. The rings and bracelets were too small to fit on me.

Too bad. I had a couple of outfits now. I loved the one yellow floral dress, because it was such a soft material, and when I whirled around, it would swish against the pantyhose, and send shivers up and down my spine. I just loved it! It turned me on so much! But one day, even in full dress, it didn’t seem like enough. I wanted more! Nobody was home, so for the first time, I left my room dressed as a girl. I was *so* afraid that someone would look in the windows and see me!

But I got into Jody’s room safely, and took a couple of her books, and a magazine. Then I went back to my room. I had something to do now when I was dressed up like a girl. I read her copies of some girly magazines. I was so thrilled that I was reading *girls* magazines. I also read her fashion magazines, and was fascinated by all of the women’s clothes, makeup, and accessories. I loved reading about girls, and wanted to know all there was to know about them. One day I finished her copy of Cosmo, so I went to put it back, and find the next thing to read. I was sure that nobody was home, so I snuck into her room. I dug around, and found a couple of things that looked promising. I held them to my chest, like the girls at school held their books, and turned around. There, standing in the hallway was my sister. I tried to turn and hide, but she saw me.

I was so embarrassed. She grabbed my hand and took me to her room.

“I.. I.. I am… s..so..sorry!” I stammered, looking down on the floor.

“I knew something was going on with you. You have been acting kind of strange for a few months now Nick.” Jody replied, looking a bit tensed. “I don’t know what got over me. I am really sorry Jody. I promise.. I will never do this again.” I answered, almost about to cry.

“Well, I am going to tell mom and dad that you have been going through my stuffs without my permission!” Jody scolded me.

I was paralyzed with the thought of it. My parents would surely beat the crap out of me and things would never be the same ever again. I begged Jody not to tell our parents and was at her mercy. Seeing me so scared; she had a change of heart.

“Okay, I won’t tell them but from now on you have to do as I say.” She said. “Fine, just don’t tell them. I will do anything Jody, please.” I said hopelessly. “You better get changed now. Mom’s going to be home soon.” Jody said with a smile, knowing that I was completely under her control. I rushed to my room and tried to undress as fast as I could. I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been and keep scolding myself in my head. After I cleaned up, I took all the girly stuffs that I had collected over the months and gave it back to my sister. She was a little pissed off that I used her stuffs but she didn’t say anything else. After that I went into my room and just laid in my bed feeling very ashamed and guilty. I promised myself that I would never dress up again, ever.

For the next couple of days, everything was quite normal. My sister rarely bothered me and I was pretty much over the things that happened before.

One day, we got an invitation for a wedding program from a distant relative. Me and my sister were just too persistent not to go, so just my parents were going to the wedding. They would be gone for 3 days as the wedding was happening in another city quite far from where we lived. I was already planning to have some beers and chill with my friends after my parents would be gone. The wedding dates arrived and my parents left.

They warned us not to do anything stupid when they were gone. As soon as they left, I got back to my room and was just about to text my friend, Jody comes in. “What do you want?” I ask her, feeling annoyed.

“Oh, you will understand what I want in the next few moments dear.” she said with a laugh.

“What?” I asked her again. “I want you to do all the house chores for the next few days until mom and dad arrives. You know, cook food, do the dishes, do the laundry and everything else.” She said with a grin on her face.

“No way! I won’t.” I said angrily. “Fine, if you won’t then I will tell mom and dad what you were doing with my stuffs!” She said and turned around marching to the door.

“Wait…” I screamed, realizing I had no other options. “I will do it.”

“Good, now that’s like my good little brother. But there is also one other thing I want you to do.” She said.

“What?” I asked.

“You will have to dress up like a girl and pretend to be a girl. You will only wear girl’s stuff from now. I know you want to. So, it will be fun for you too.

But I will decide what you can and can’t wear, understand?” She said. It was more of a command.

I knew it was pointless arguing with her and the thought of actually pretending and living like a girl full time seemed to be quite exciting. So, I nodded to her and she told me to come into her room. We both went into her room and there she put makeup on me, did my hair and also made me wear some of her accessories; her necklace, bracelet and her earrings. It was a very tingling sensation. I was really loving it.

Then she told me to get into her white summer dress and black pantyhose. I was blushing now. I changed into her dress and pantyhose, it was just amazing. I checked myself in the mirror and seeing me dressed liked that turned me on really hard. I tried to control my emotions as much I could. My sister was happy with what she saw in front of her. I was her slave for the next 3 days. That was the punishment of my sister but to be honest, I think it was more of a dream come true for me.

The End

[cd-stories]

The Girl In Disguise

Mandy lived two houses away from us when I was growing up. We both were in the same grade and in the same class so we became good friends. Nothing was salacious about our relationship, just two kids growing up having kid fun. Catching frogs, playing catch, watching the clouds drift by, riding our bikes through the neighborhood. You know kid stuffs. I never really paid attention in how we were dressed except I knew that girls wore dresses and skirts while boys wore tee-shirts and jeans. It must have been about 7th grade when I started to really take notice.

While walking home from school with Mandy one day I just had to ask her, “What is it like to wear a dress?”

She looked at me, “What do you mean?”

“I mean with your legs bare when outside.” I replied. Giggling.

“Silly, you have had on shorts before. I’ve seen you in them. It’s the same thing.”

I stopped for a second, “No Mandy, shorts start mid thigh and everything above is covered, not like a dress where your legs are still bare up to your underwear.”

Mandy just looked at me and didn’t say anything.

The rest of the walk consisted of small talk. We came up to her house first, “Do you want to come in?” She asked. “Sure” I replied and followed her into the house. Her parents were not home for they both had to work so we had the house to ourselves. We put our school bags down and Mandy took me by the hand and said, “Let’s go.” She led me to her room where I’ve been several times before. Going to her dresser she turned to look at me, “We are about the same height.” and with that she took out a dress and handed it to me.

“Now go into the bathroom and put it on then come back out and let me see.” I didn’t know what to do. Should I do what she said? Was she teasing me? Is this for real? I was in a state of confusion and bewilderment.

Mandy grabbed me, turned me around and ushered me into her bathroom, “Don’t stand, go.” I went into the bathroom and closed the door and stood there with her dress in my hands. “You can’t come out until you put it on” I heard her yell from the other side. So I striped down to my underpants and put the dress on over my head.

Nervously I opened the door to the bedroom where Mandy was standing. I stepped outside and she giggled a bit. “Now turn around, let me see. “ So I turned around in a full circle for her. She had me sit on the bed saying it is “Wrong, wrong, wrong! Take your socks off”. She grabbed one of my legs and yanked the sock off one of my foot, tossed it to the floor and went to her dresser.

As I removed the other sock I looked up and saw her take out a pair of white stocking. She walked over to me and gave them to me, “Now, put them on”. Before I could do anything she stopped me, “Are you wearing boys underpants”? I just looked at her, “Errr ya, I am. After all I am a boy. What do you think I had on”? Mandy went back to her dresser “No, no, no, no! That will never do. No!” With that she took out a pair of pink panties and tossed them to me. “I’m going to turn my back on you.

Take off your underpants and put those on, now.” Mandy had her back to me and I slipped off my underpants and the pink panties on. They felt weird but very comfortable, more so than my own underpants. Mandy turned around and ushered me to put on the stockings. I’ve seen TV commercials and TV shows with women putting on stockings so I had the idea in how to roll up each leg, insert my foot then pull them on. I had one foot in Mandy piped up, “Careful, don’t put a run into them.” Slowly and carefully I pulled up each leg. They felt so nice and the way they hugged my legs was wonderful.

Mandy watched me in amazement as I pulled up the pantyhose. Then she went to her closet and took out a pair of sandals with a 1″ heel and a strap at back for the heel. “I don’t think any of my other shoes will fit you, but we can adjust the heel strap so you can get into these.“ she said. Mandy then put the sandals on my feet adjusting the strap so my feet would go in them and stay. The heel of my foot did extend a little over the back, but the strap held my foot in place.

Mandy looked at my smiling and said ” One more item.“ She went to her dresser and took something off the top and hid it in her hand then walked over to me. “Now stand still, look straight and relax.” She opened her hand and I saw that she had lipstick there. She put one hand behind my neck and with the other applied the bright red lip stick on my lips. All kinds of thoughts were racing through my head and I didn’t know where to begin. Mandy finished putting the lipstick on me and then did her own lips as she looked me over. “There, don’t you look pretty” she said. “How is it? Do you like it? “ Nervously I replied ” Well…I…“, I couldn’t answer but deep down inside I felt something so invigorating and wonderful.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but for some reason it felt right. Mandy locked her arm through mine and took me to the mirror in her room where I saw myself in the dress with bright red lipstick on. “There, now we can be sisters. What should I call you? I can’t use Johnny your boy name. Girls don’t have boy names. I know, you will be ‘Joan’ and that is what I will call you.”

She is going to call me ‘Joan’ I thought to myself. But I’m a boy, not a girl. OK I’m in a dress but I’m still a boy. But wearing the dress did make me feel like a girl. Mandy took me by the hand and brought me into the dining room. My first step in her heels was a bit uneasy but I quickly got used to walking in them.

I really felt weird but nice at the same time. In her dining room was a sliding glass door that led to the back yard deck. I was often invited over for barbecues so I was familiar with her back yard. Mandy opened the doors and turned to me, “Come on Joan, let’s sit outside. Don’t worry, no one will see us.” She was right about that. They had a very high fence around the backyard and plenty of trees lining the parameter. It was so thick and the way the house was situated no one could see into her backyard. Slowly yet cautiously I stepped out onto the deck. I knew that no one could see us, but there was that air of suspicion. I walked to the railing, overlooking the rest of the yard and turned to Mandy who was grinning ear to ear.

“Well, does this answer your question?” Mandy asked.

“What question.” I replied.

“What does wearing a dress feel like. You silly head.” Mandy said.

I paused for a second before I answered. “Well..“ Before I could finish she interjected, “Bet you like it, don’t you?” Looking at her I said, “I guess. It feels OK.” But deep inside I was thinking how strangely nice it really was. “Oh I know you like it, I just know it. Why don’t we sit down out here and enjoy ourselves.” She said.

So we sat at the table and spent some time engaged in girl talk of all things. Mandy would go on about the other girls in school, dresses, make up and things like that.

After a bit, Mandy got up, “Wait here, I’m going to get us something to drink”. And with that she left to go inside. I sat there admiring my legs seeing how they came out from the bottom of the dress, the shimmering of the stocking and my feet in the heels. It also felt so wonderful and relaxing.

A few minutes later Mandy came back out with two glasses of soda. Thanking her I took a sip. I looked at the glass and there was a bright red lipstick mark that I made. Mandy paid no attention to hers and we just kept on talking. Mandy glanced at her watch, “We have to go inside Joan.

My mom will be here in a little while.” We got up and headed to her room. When we got there I needed to use the bathroom. “Give me a second, I have to pee. “ I went into her bathroom, closed the door and stood in front of the toilet. I lifted the seat like at home, then lifted the front of the dress, pulled down the pantyhose and panties just enough.

Holding the front side of the dress up with one hand and my penis in the other, I had to be very careful not to get any on the dress. I shook off the last few drops, dabbed myself with some toilet paper to be sure there was nothing left, I pulled up the panties and pantyhose. I flushed, washed my hands and stepped out into Mandy’s bedroom where Mandy was waiting for me.

Mandy saw that the toilet seat was up and gave me a stern look. “Girls pee sitting down, not standing up Joan. So when you are dressed like a girl, you have to pee like a girl. OK” Did she say ‘when dressed like a girl, pee like a girl? Does that mean what I think it does? “OK, I’ll remember. “ I said. Mandy took me over to her dresser and gave me a quick tour of what she had in the drawers and then did the same with the closet. Looking at me she said, “When you come over after school, you can wear anything that you want. Anything. ” A part of me woke up and started to jump for joy. Another part was confused. I simply looked back at her, “OK, that sounds like fun.”

“See, I knew you would enjoy dressing like a girl. We can be sisters when you do. Now quickly get changed I have a few things I need to do.” Mandy then left the bedroom closing the door behind her.

Alone now, I stood in the middle of her room looking at myself in the mirror. Something inside of me was telling me that this is right and meant for me to do. At the same time I was worried what if it was discovered that I liked wearing girls clothes. I didn’t have time to lament on these thoughts so I quickly got back into my regular clothes, washed the lipstick off, put the dress in the closet and under things into the hamper.

Making one last check to see that everything was as it should be I left the room. I went into the dining room and there was Mandy sitting at the table waving me to come over. She emptied both of our book bags so it looked like as if we were studying. She even had two glasses of soda there as well. I sat down at the table where she put my books and studied the glass of soda. Was it the one from before with lipstick on it? I looked closely and didn’t see any. Looking up at Mandy, she simply smiled.

Then we heard the garage door open. Mandy turned to me, “Get studying.” I picked up my English book and began to read. Mandy’s mother came in and saw us. “Hi honey, Hi Johnny. I see the two of are being very studious today.” We both responded back to her as she went into the kitchen. “I better get started on supper before your father gets home.

Are you joining us for dinner Johnny? “ “I wish I could but my mom is expecting me Mrs. Ralston. I better get going.” With that Mandy helped me pack up and saw me to the door. She leaned over to me and whispered, “See you tomorrow sis.” I smiled back at her. We did our normal goodbyes and I went home. The next day in school Mandy came up to me, “Didn’t you have fun yesterday?” “Strangely I did Mandy. It was really enjoyable. I want to do it again” Smiling Mandy went on, “I’m glad. Today you can try on a few of my skirts. There is one I think will look really good on you.” The rest of the school day was normal. After school Mandy and I walked home together and we spent the rest of the afternoon trying on skirts.

Just about every day after school that became our routine. Going to Mandy’s and dressing like a girl. She worked with me on putting on makeup, walking and sitting like a girl, even picking things up off the floor. It was very enjoyable and refreshing to know that there was a unique part of me that wanted to come out and it certainly did.

About two months later we were sitting in the front room watching TV with me being dressed as Joan. This time I was also wearing a hair wig that Mandy had found in her garage. It was one of her mother’s very old hair wig. She had cleaned it and brushed it very well. When I put the wig on she was really surprised to see how different of a person I looked in it.

She said I really did look like a pretty girl then. When I saw myself in the mirror, I was shocked as her, seeing a nice girl in-front of me. Then we got back to our usual things and we were tired. We had something to eat and then were watching TV. All of a sudden Mandy’s father walked in on us as he came home early. He became cautious when he laid eyes on me.

He was a big man, an ex drill sergeant in the Marines who saw combat. “Well, who is this beautiful lady, Mandy? He asked as he removed his coat. Mandy and I were both shocked and scared at the same time. If he found out that it was me dressed in Mandy’s clothes, he would get very angry. My heart was beating very fast and I was sure Mandy was feeling terrified too. With some courage, Mandy spoke up “Daddy, she is..she is.. my new friend Joan, from school. She is new here and I invited her over.”

“Oh I see! Well you two have fun. I have a lot of work to do.” Mandy’s father then pointed to me and said “Feel yourself at home dear.” And then he went upstairs. Mandy and I both got a bit relieved after that. It was a very close encounter. I was still very nervous and just wanted to run away. But I was also a little proud somehow that Mandy’s father didn’t recognize me at all and thought I was a real girl.

I was still dressed like a girl and in some ways; I could see myself getting excited about it. Mandy then took my hand and we both went into her room. Closing the door behind us, we could hear Mandy’s father talking over the phone. Mandy was looking very worried and so was I. We could lose our friendship if we were discovered doing something like this. “What should we do Mandy?” I asked. “I am thinking. It was such a close call. I thought we were busted.” She replied nervously.

“Maybe I should just change fast and leave” I said. “No, not till dad is around, you can’t change. If he sees you, we could get into a lot of trouble.” She replied, still a little nervous. “You will have to keep pretending you are a girl.” Then we heard footsteps coming closer to the door. We panicked.

It was her father again. “Hey girls, I have to go to my client’s house right now. There has been an emergency. It might take me an hour before I get home. You girls behave and eat something okay?” Mandy’s father said. We both nodded and in about 5 minutes, he was gone. As soon as Mandy’s father left, I undressed as fast as I could.

Mandy helped me get the makeup off of me. Then I got back into my boy clothes. I felt relaxed now getting back to my normal clothes. I could see Mandy was calmer too. I kissed her cheek and then left. I ran as fast as I could from there to my home. But little did I know that this experience would change me so much later. I was a girl in disguise and even though it was really scary, I liked it.

The End

[cd-stories]

A New Beginning

My name is David and I am 20 years old and live in Las Vegas. I have always been small for a man 5’4″ tall and weigh about 50 Kg, so growing up I was always teased as I look like a little kid. I hated it and always wanted to grow bigger that is till I was 17 and discovered girls clothes. Yes it turns out I am a crossdresser.

I just love dressing up with the makeup, hair, dresses and heels and I actually grew my light brown hair out past my shoulder and wear it in a pony tail so when I dress I can use my own hair. I actually make a fairly passable girl although my makeup skills suck and my collection of makeup and clothing is small. My parents were killed in a car wreck when I was 18. I have been living off of the insurance money, I have a small apartment and dress at home and have never gone out as my clothing are all second hand stuff and really don’t look that great.

I had only been in the apartment about 2 weeks when I met Natasha she lived right across the hall from me. She is gorgeous, 22 years old 5’5″ and long blonde hair. Just the kind of girl I would love to date and if I thought she would go out with me I would try to stop dressing but she could have any guy she wanted.

She works at the Paris hotel casino as a cocktail waitress. We would talk and built up a friendship. About a year ago she was going on vacation and asked me to water her plants and look after her apartment and gave me a key.

So while she was gone I went over and watered her plants and I don’t know why but the second time I went over I just had to look in her closet and she had so many beautiful things and as we are about the same size I tried on one of her dresses.

Now I know this was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. The whole week she was gone I spent most of my time over there and tried on a lot of her stuff and wished I could have such beautiful clothing.

I couldn’t stop thinking of her clothes and wondered when she was going on vacation again. It was about 2 months later when I couldn’t control myself and as she worked the late shift at the casino I went over to her apartment when she went to work and tried on a couple of her dresses and I was in heaven. I started doing this more and more to the point I was going over there almost every night when she went to work. I saw no harm in it even though I knew she would be mad if she found out but her stuff was so much more beautiful than the things I had bought at goodwill.

Well everything was going great till about a month ago, Natasha invited me over to her apartment for dinner and to ask me a favor. I was hoping she was going on vacation again as I would have way more time and not have to worry she would come home early.

Well I got to her place and she invited me in, the food she was preparing smelt so wonderful and we sat down at the table to talk. Natasha smiled at me in a way I have never seen before and said “I want to show you something David” and she turned her computer towards me.

She looked me in the eyes, “I forgot to turn my computer off a few weeks back and my web cam caught something I can’t explain.” I looked in terror as I saw myself in her bedroom trying on her red dress. She smiled again, “I started leaving my computer on and have many videos of you trying on my clothes.”.

I was really scared and just started to apologize knowing we were done as friends. She looked at me again, “I am mad at you but not because you were trying on my clothes but because you did it without asking.” I looked up as she smiled, “Please tell me why you did this?” I told her about my cross-dressing and how the clothes I have are all second had and don’t look good and I just couldn’t control myself when I saw all her beautiful clothes. She smiled at me and gave me a hug, “I guess if you like to wear pretty clothes that is okay and I don’t mind you borrowing some of my stuff but you must ask first okay?” I shook my head yes and thanked her. Now was the biggest shock as she smiled at me, “we have about an hour till dinner is ready so why don’t we go pick out some nice dresses to wear.”

Now I was so excited and scared at the same time, I really wanted to but I have never let anyone see me dressed but then again she had several videos on her computer so I said yes. This time though instead of just the dress Natasha gave me a bra, panties nylons and heels to go with it.

In about 15 minutes I was standing there in a beautiful red dress and heels and Natasha had on this really cute black dress and yes she even had breast forms for me. We still had time so she had me sit down and she quickly combed out my hair and put some rollers in it, “if we are going to do this David we might as well do it right.”

Once my hair was up she started on my face with makeup and she was way better at doing makeup than me. My eyes looked perfect and she finished it off with a red lipstick. I looked in the mirror and could not believe it. I looked totally like a girl, even Natasha commented on it, “wow David no one would ever know you were a guy.”

We had a wonderful dinner and then sat around and talked. We became really close that night, not just best friends but there was a bond between us as she knew my deepest darkest secret and was okay with it.

We did this a couple more times on her nights off and had a blast. It was about a month later when I was over to her apartment and we were all dressed up, we both had on these really cute black cocktail dresses and 4″ heels and makeup done perfectly when she smiled at me, “you look so awesome tonight it is a shame to stay home.”

Now, I have never gone out dressed even though I often thought about it but with Natasha’s support we left and went down to her car and off to dinner at the Paris Hotel casino where she works. We had a wonderful dinner and then went to the casino. Now as I said I am not 21 yet so I was scared but no one questioned me. It wasn’t till Natasha ran into a couple of her co-workers that I got really scared. She just smiled and introduced me as Julie her friend from High school. With that I was accepted as just another pretty girl. The 4 of us hung out together the rest of the night and no one had the slightest clue I wasn’t a girl. We stayed out till the wee hours of the morning before heading home.

I asked Natasha who Julie was and all she said was a friend from High school that she had lost touch with. We got in the habit of going out on a regular basis and I met some more of her friends and in every case I was accepted, my small size was really a blessing now plus Natasha and I grew closer more like sisters.

One night when we were out with her friends they told me I should apply for a job at the Paris Hotel Casino as they are always looking for people. I just smiled and said I would think about it as I knew there was no way I could.

Now I was spending two nights a week as Julie as I always went out with Natasha on her nights off and Natasha had taught me how to do my makeup so if I wanted I could dress on my own which I did on some occasion. It was Saturday morning and Natasha wanted me to get dressed up to go out which was new as we always went out in the evening but I was willing as I had become so comfortable as I passed so well. We left and went to a local shopping center and there was a beauty salon there that Natasha went to.

Now I was a little nervous about this as I am still a guy in a dress but she told me it would be fine. She just wanted them to fix my hair up in a little more feminine style. Natasha told the lady what she wanted and I just sat there. It was a wonderful experience as they shampoo your hair and massage your scalp. It was very relaxing.

She trimmed the back and cut my bangs and then put a cream in my hair. After a few minutes she rinsed the cream out and more conditioner and rinse and then she started with curlers and wrapped my hair up.

While my hair was drying we both went to the manicure tables and Natasha talked me into getting acrylic, “you can always take them off in a day or two if you don’t like them” she said. It really was a fun experience and after about an hour I had long beautiful red nails, they were about a ½ inch long just like Natasha’s. I was back to have the rollers removed from my hair and a mass of curls fell down but something was different. My hair was now blonde. I wanted to scream but didn’t, as I didn’t want to cause a scene. We left the salon and when we got into the car I was ready to yell at Natasha and she knew it so before I could speak she spoke up “Don’t be mad David but the other night I got thinking about you needing a job and I figured why couldn’t you work where I do, I could give you a good reference.”

I just looked at her, “Natasha I am a guy, to get a job I will have to give them my real name, they are not going to hire a man who dresses as a girl.” Natasha got quiet and then started telling me about Julie her best friend from high school.

It turns out after high school she got mixed up with some guy and ended up on the street.. Any way it got so bad she had joined a cult and in doing so had moved away and was going by a different name as the cult likes them to forget everything from their past life. It was a really sad story. That’s when Natasha told me I could just use her name to get the job and work as her since all her friends already knew me that way.

Now I was about to say no but this idea did sound a little exciting, I could live as someone else for a while. I told her I would think about it so we went out shopping for the day and out with her friends for the evening.

Now the next day I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. With my new blonde curly hair and nails there was no way I could go around as a guy so I put on a nice skirt and did my makeup and went over to see what Natasha was up to. She was so happy to see me all dressed up.

We went out and had a nice lunch and did some shopping before she went to work. Now I have gone with her before when she had to go to work and came home by myself but this was the first time I was doing it as Julie, I had never been out as Julie on my own so I was a little scared. But I really did look feminine and the worst thing was some whistles from men I passed which on your own is a little intimidating.

Over the next few days I went out more and more on my own and was getting pretty use to it. It was Sunday night when Natasha and I went to meet her friends; well I guess they are mine too now. We went out to have a nice dinner and while we were talking I asked if they thought they had any job openings that I could do.

Natasha looked at me and got such a big smile on her face and gave me a hug. She told me we would go down to the employment office first thing tomorrow morning and she would help me put in an application. It was a fun night and we all had a blast but Natasha said we should not stay out as late so we could be there first thing in the morning. The next day I got up and got all dressed and went over to Natasha’s. She had me take my top off including my bra. She had what she called a nude bra. What it really is are two silicon breast shapes and what woman do is attach them to the outside of their breast and then pull them together to increase their cup size. I really wasn’t sure what this would do for me. She attached it to the outside of my chest where I had a little bit of flab.

Once it was attached and had set for a bit she pulled it together in the middle and put on a tight bra. I was amazed, I had breast and cleavage. They were not huge but a nice C cup size. Natasha gave me a new top that really showed my new breast off and off we went. Now I was a little self conscious as I felt a little different.

We got to the Casino’s employment office and it turns out if you come in with a current employee you go to a different office, seems they give preference to friends of employees. Now I was introduced to a lady named Sara, she was in charge of all hiring. She asked me some questions and had me fill out an application which Natasha helped me with as I really didn’t know all the answers to Julie’s life such as birthday and such.

Turns out I was now 22 just like Natasha. Sara came back and asked me some more questions and had me stand up and turn around. She was really looking at me and I just knew she had figured out I was a man. She left again and Natasha smiled, “She likes what she see I think you may get a cocktail waitress job like me.

They only hire really cute girls for that. The money is okay but the tips are great.” Now I was still having a hard time thinking of me working as a girl but now I was picturing myself as a cocktail waitress in one of those tight skimpy outfits. Could I really pull it off? Sara came back and smiled.

“I think we have an open cocktail position that would be perfect for you if you are interested. It is the same shift as Natasha’s so she would be training you.” Wow I was offered a job. Should I take it? Could I pull it off? Natasha nudged me and I said “Yes I would love that, thank you.” Sara handed me some paper work to sign, I read it and it was authorizing them to do a background check on me or rather Julie.

I signed the paper work and the 3 of us walked from her office to the front desk, Sara handed the paper work to the receptionist and then looked at the Security guard, “This is Julie, a new hire, here is her authorization for a background check.” He looked at me, “everything looks good step up to the line.”

I did as he asked and he took a couple pictures and showed them to me. I got to pick out the one for my employee ID badge. Then he had me stand at the counter and he took my figure prints which caught me off guard. Now I have no criminal record and have never had any contact with the police so I knew my figure prints weren’t on record any place so I was okay there.

He looked at me, “Here is your temporary ID. You will get your regular one when you pass your background check and the Gaming commission files your paper work and gives you clearance to work in a casino.”

That’s when it hit me. It was not the problem of my figure prints being on file before it was the fact they were now going to be on file and for a woman named Julie. Officially in the eyes of the State of Nevada, and the gaming commission I was a woman and it was now in their computers that way.

I may be stuck now living as a girl. Natasha and I left and she was so happy that in the car she gave me a big kiss which, was the first time we had kissed and it caught me off guard. My first night was tonight to start my training and apparently my new life.

What will happen next, will I be found out, will it all work out okay, can I ever go back or am I now stuck as a girl full time, have I gone too far? Only time will tell.

The End