This one hit me sometime between yesterday and today. I cannot explain where or how this story came into life but it did. Please leave comments if you want it to continue.
I had been dressing for years and I totally enjoyed the feel of silk, nylon, satin, crepe, taffeta, the list is endless it seems for girls. Boys got denim, cotton and wool. Girls got tight wonderful feeling panties in various shapes sizes and colors. Boys got y-fronts in white or blue. Not even gonna try boxers those are just too icky.
I had grown my hair a bit androgynous that could be styled a bit like a girls if I really worked at it or just comb back with gel into a boys *greaser* style.
I found that eyebrows could be shaped into delicate arches or with a bit of soap and careful brushing a boys hairy eyebrow. I tried to keep fingernails but they always busted so thankfully there is glue on nails and remover. I had claimed years ago that nail glue worked better on my car models, which it did, which is why I had a supply of it and nail glue remover to remove leftovers from my fingers.
One advantage of having a semi messy boys room is that hiding my girls stuff wasn't that hard. A number of old model boxes had various skirts dresses and blouses. Under my almost never used suit was girls pleated skirts and more blouses. Under false bottoms courtesy of a similar dresser to my own was my slips panties, hose, and bra. Inside some older snow boots I had stuff my few girls low pumps, I'm not a fan of high heels they kill my toes. I kept my three nighties under my mattress.
The little bit of makeup perfume and other beauty products I kept in my only black purse in the bottom of my old Lego box. Since I only lived with my Mom it was just us two in the house all the time. She was some bigwig real estate lady in the area I think. She was not all predictable if she would be home or not. This left me with often plenty of time to be pretty. I never once thought of myself as a girl in a boys body. It was just something I had to do. I never got a rise out of it.
Thanks to the internet I learned ways to speak like a girl and how to act like one. So yes I had gone out of the house dressed up. While all my pretty clothes were somewhat dated they still made me passable in public. All that is except the one. It was a double teired summer style dress with tiny matching jacket. I just looked stunning in it and I was busy modeling myself infront of the changeroom mirror with it on and my purse when the sales lady rushed me out as it was closing time. I guess since it was in the clearance rack she just didn't notice or didn't care but before I knew it I was outside of the store in my dress. I never had much money and in no way could I have ever afforded the dress. All I had left behind was some denim cutoff shorts and a rather plain looking off the shoulder worn out pink top.
So after a very nerve rattling ride home on the bus I used a garbage bag and hid it between two of my suits. I would often look at it and drool but I didn't have the courage to return it. I knew it was bad and even told a priest about it rather vaguely. I did leave, casually mind you, whatever money I could in a donation cup for the staff at the store. So I was sorta paying for it, a bit at a time but still paying for it.
In all the years I had been doing this I never once though my Mom knew about it at all. Turns out I was dead wrong.
I had been out all prettied up window shopping as usual since Mom had said she was gonna be gone a town over for the day. I got the first inkling something was wrong when I came out of the mall and saw what I thought was my mothers car. It was parked infront of my second favorite store, Goodwill. They had some awesome bargins and such pretty stuff in this store. But seeing a car just like moms got me scared. I decided to walk home as best I could since after buying some new makeup, on sale , I was completely broke and could not afford the bus.
It took me the better part of 2 hours to get home and truthfully the leather ankle boots with small heel were not made for walking that far in so my feet were definatly throbbing away. The one problem with our house was that mom usually parked her car in the garage so I wouldn't see a difference if it was there or not unless I went to look. I unlocked the door without checking it, which in hindsight was a bad idea as it was probably open.
"Hi sweetie did you have fun shopping at the mall with the other girls?"I Froze where I was standing I was shocked. Turning my head I saw my mom in her kerchief and old comfy clothes. It was obvious she had been home a long time today.
"Mom I can explain.." No I couldn't but it seemed like the thing to say.
"Young lady don't tell me you spent all your money on makeup again and walked home dressed like that." It was a statement not a question." I have told you before that pretty young girls like you are such a target for sick men and you should remember to be more careful."
"Its not what you think.. wait a minute what did you say?" Really I am not blonde. Brownish red or auburn hair yes. But her statement totally through me off my stride. I looked down at myself. My denim skirt was actually modest in length, My pink top with the sweetheart neckline just gave a glimpse of developing breasts, thanks to a tape trick I learned along with my homemade silicone breast forms courtesy of a cheap tube of clear bathroom silicone and some flesh colored balloons vacuum sealed. The two gave me a very believable feminine chest. I used makeup to make my eyes appear wider and showed off my baby blue eyes really well another makeup trick with white powder made my nose look smaller thinner and way more feminine.
"Maria Anne Carter what am I gonna do with you young lady." Oh geess wait, what? My name is Mark Anthony Carter. What is going on.
"Go to your room and put away your makeup and shoes then come help me make supper as usual." I never help mom in her kitchen! I hurried up to my room totally confused. I knew I was in deep trouble and should hurry and get changed to face her wrath. I almost let myself go and run but I had trained myself to well when wearing a skirt and hurriedly minced to where my room should be. Gone was the Do not disturb on pain of megadeath sign on my door. In its place was a flowery Maria sign. Not a good sign at all, No not the door one, oh well never mind.
I opened the door to what should have been my room and it wasn't. My bed had been replaced with a girly canopy bed with ruffled pink and white sheets. My much glued and beatup computer/worktable was gone along with my computer. In its place was a vanity with all my makeup on display and a jewelry box. I didn't even own any jewelery! I had a pink barbie phone now apparently. I had two end tables where before my bed was to one side. Gone were all my models in their place was some stuffed animals. In one far corner where my toys had been was a used looking barbie doll house complete with furniture and barbies. I ran to my closet looking for some of my old stuff and found a fairly complete wardrobe of girls clothes and .. No! It can't be. It was a St Helens Girls Acadamy school uniform. Wait...Three of them! Gone was my old dresser in its place was a classic wooden dresser with more girly odds and ends for hair and stuff I couldn't even Identify all over it. I pulled out drawers full of girls tops, lingerie, nighties, and bathing suits.
All in all a very girly girls room. Not my room. I dropped my bag on the floor and ran back downstairs to hell with the skirt. I almost skidded into the kitchen, as I forgot about the boots, bouncing off the entryway frame instead.
"Maria! That is not the way a proper young lady acts. Go upstairs and come back down again properly!"
"NOW!" I got the look from her that begged no argument. I went upstairs and came back down more lady like crying the whole time. I was so confused. What had happened to my world.
Mom didn't really comment on my crying just handed me a tissue and told me to dab my eyes. I spent an hour cutting up vegetables and some meats to make a salad that would go with the fish we were having for supper. It was the worst supper of my life. The whole time Mom kept correcting me to eat like a lady, a lady doesn't fidget. No arms on table. Eat smaller bites as you ruin your makeup like that. It went on and on. I didn't get to escape either. After dinner we cleaned up mom washed and I dried. Every time I tried to appologize for dressing like a girl Mom would just give me a funny look and I would lapse into silence.
After we finished in the kitchen I was sent to get ready for a bath. It had been years since mom had made a bath for me and I was already crying as I got undressed. I went into the bathroom in my new girly white satin robe and found a very girly bubble bath that smelled of flowers. I cried out through the door but mom just told me to be sure to wash myself properly like a good girl.
The water was cold and most of the bubbles had gone by the time I got out still feeling horrible. Mom had put out some girly thick pajama top and bottom with cute little kittens all over them. I put them on while crying some more. I went to my room to find my mother sitting on my new bed with a brush in her hand. I hadn't had my hair brushed since I was five. She just gave me that look and I meekly went to my bed after removing my ballerina slippers, in pink, and my robe. She just kinda tucked me to her and brushed my hair until it was dry.
"Young lady I hope you have learned your lesson about walking around by yourself." I just nodded I was too confused to argue and quite tired. She let me drink a cup of warm slightly sour milk and then tucked me in.
I didn't find out what happened next for quite some time. You see my milk was spiked with a tranquilizer of some sort. While I slept dead to the world my mother thought she would teach me a lesson. In her words it was "He wants to pretend to be a girl fine, I make sure he gets the total experience." That means that interesting Sensotouch® breast forms and vagigaff were glued into place on my chest and crotch, after a waxing I didn't feel. The two items utilize a passive transfer technology. Or in plain english they felt,looked, and acted real. The nipples on breasts would transfer feeling and temperature, The vagina would transfer feeling and since the clit was actually the very end of my penis would also transfer all the pleasure, or pain as necessary. These two items are apparently worth alot of money never being sold on the open market. She also added hair extensions to my own hair giving me long very girlish hair.
All I know is I awoke the next morning to a pair of tits and an emptiness between my legs. I of course did what any man would. I screamed like a little girl.
"Maria! What is wrong honey?" My mother rushed into my room looking a bit tired in her bathrobe to see me with my jammies around my ankles and top up starring into the mirror over my new dresser.
"Look at me!I'm a GIRL!"
She had this really funny look on her face, I have to give her hand she did it so well I was left with little choice but to believe that I was and always had been a girl. I broken down on the floor sobbing.
"Maria please get a hold of yourself young lady." She walked over and wrapped me in a hug. "Did you have a bad nightmare?" So smooth. I sat in her arms and nodded. I was again confused. I really didn't know what to think. I was 12 and from the looks of the room I had been a girl for my life but the life I remembered was that of a crossdressing boy.
I didn't know any of the people from school well enough to call them and since we had moved into this neighborhood about two months ago, the bad side to having a successful real estate person as your mother, I didn't know anyone local. I had memories of some girls playing about a block away.
"Come Maria sweetie lets get you dressed ok?" I was led in shock to the bathroom to wash and moisturize my face after peeing sitting down, a new experience for me, and wiping the wrong way first and then the "right" way after a small lecture about feminine hygiene from mother.
I spent most of that morning in a daze getting dressed in my summer dress, yes that one, for church. Then my mother led me into her bedroom to watch her get dressed, which was far more elaborate. She chose a similar dress to my own conservative but still feminine. Watching her put on a garter belt and suspenders was an experience for sure. It seemed to take her ages to choose just the right perfume and then jewelry. I am sorry to say but I was quite fascinated at the earrings she had chosen, gold hoops with little pearls on them. And the simple yet elegant sweetheart necklace, I found out later it matched my own new one.
"Remember our deal Maria. No earrings until you have gotten a good grade at your new school." She said without looking at me. New school? Oh oh those uniforms came back to the forfront of my mind.
"School?" I really should have kept my mouth shut.
"Yes I had to pull in some favors from contacts but tomorrow you start at St. Helens girls school."
"But Mom! I can't go to that school its only for girls!" Well it seemed a logical argument at the time.
"Maria. What is with you this morning young lady? You would think that you believe you are some boy. Really get hold of yourself you don't want to make a scene at church do you?"
I left my mom to finish getting ready and went to my room and sat down on my bed for awhile hugging a big fluffy kitty to myself very close to tears. I don't remember choosing that kitty or why but I apparently did.
Mom came in a couple of minutes later and helped me choose the right shoes to complement my dress. Some worn looking but in excellent shape maryjanes that did actually look very good on my feet. We transfered a bunch of my stuff to another purse that matched my dress. I never had any purse like this before, but as with everything else in my room looked... its hard to describe but there is new and looks new. They looked new but weren't like you had them for ages already but never really wore them.
My long hair had been styled into an off the shoulder something. Its a cross between a partial ponytail and a bob. I know I am not explaining it right at all. The effect left little doubt I was a girl, and I might say modestly a fairly pretty one at that. I would never win a prize in a beauty contest but well you get the idea.
After a small lecture on how to get in and out of a car in a dress, I tried my usual one leg in, and got the lecture with a "Maria really!" We went to church. I should point out we NEVER went to church. This was a new experience for me. I huddled behind my mothers skirt trembling in fear of being ridiculed as a freak by everyone. Mom of course had none of that and introduced her daughter Maria, shes very shy, to alot of people. Even the girls my age almost made me cry.
In normal situations when a boy like me is near tears he gets picked on alot. It seems that girls in a similar situation are instead cuddled into a group hug by any other girl. I have to admit I helped alot. I was separated from mother by a bunch of girls, who I later found out went to St. Helens, to a sorta raised section with smaller pews just for children. As the new girl I was whispered at alot with questions of where I was from and so forth. It was very intimidating and I kept rigidly silent throughout the rather dry sermon.
Donna, Teresa, Annabelle, Marcie, Betty, and Sara all tried very hard to get me to open up but gave up after a bit. As soon as the sermon was over I rushed to mother and tried to bury myself into her skirts. I was terrified of these girls. I cried silently and after the initial shock wore off my mom bent down and comforted me till I stopped shaking. I probably made a scene, but I really didn't care. She led me sniffling and shaking to the ladies room, which has a small bench, where I cried into her skirts asking for forgiveness and to let me go back to being a boy with many promises of being good and so forth.
These were of course said muffled as my face was buried into her bosom. So aside from mom sorta of hearing it but not really nobody else did all they saw was a frightened girl being comforted by her mother. It took me awhile to calm down and then even more time to fix my makeup and for mother to dry her dress, I kinda made a mess with tears and makeup on it. When we were done we left the ladies room to what I can only describe as a sea of mothers and daughters. If mom didn't have a grip on my hand I'm sure I would have ran.
It was silent and then suddenly some of the girls started to sob and rushed me into an even bigger group hug apologizing to me! I didn't get it but, and this is hard to describe, but it helped it really did. As strange as that sounds it broke the ice. After that things went more smoothly. I was still very scared but not overly much. Mom and myself were accepted into this group of women and we helped to set out the after church brunch and bakesale. We had nothing to contribute, apparently its a weekly competition for who made the best cake, snack, appetizer, separated by size,difficulty and taste. single women efforts were judged separately from mother daughter or just daughter combinations.
Confused? Your not the only one. I have to admit alot of the food looked so delicate I was afraid to eat it. It was almost like an art show. It took quite awhile to help them all set it up and I calmed down alot and started to enjoy myself. After we were done it was the thing for all the women to stand to one side, daughters included, while first the parish priest, and his choir came to each and every dish in the hall. I should mention it was a hall thats on the back of the church for church functions.
When the clergy were done and the priest picked food from his selections, this was apparently how you knew who won, the men were allowed in to totally ravage the art. I was visibly sad that none of them took the time to recognize the amount of effort and dare I say art. They just went through grabbing whatever in a mash on a plate and never once thanking any of the women who put all that work into it.
I was not the only one as I comforted two girls who's creations got destroyed. I still don't know why I did that. It just happened one sec I heard a sniffle behind me the next I was hugging to girls a year or two younger than myself while they cried. It wasn't a man thing. Scarily it was more of a girl thing. It also apparently made a huge impression on the other ladies.
On the trip home my mother glowed, not really she isn't some mutant, but well it was a smile on her face and the way she held herself that let me know she was more than proud of me. The rest of that sunday passed well peacefully as I grew more and more used to being my mothers daughter. We cleaned, ironed and put away all the dirty laundry. Swept and mopped the floors and dusted each of us still in our dresses but with aprons and kerchiefs on.
I went to bed at peace, it was a peace I had not felt for a very long time, and my mother was warming up to me fast as well. I can't explain it but things while different and wrong, were also in some ways better.
Next chapter - first day of school
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