The Fa'afafine bill
Fa'afafine is a “third gender” in Polynesian culture, according to the Samoa Fa'afafine Association.
It has been a part of island life for as long as anyone can remember..When a boy is noticeably effeminate, he will likely be taught the traditional duties of Samoan women, which often means working within the house. In the past it was thought that this role was forced on them. There are contradicting stories. Some do indeed say that they were forced. Mostly it is voluntary though.
This is a fantasy story set in the U.K., in a world where there are fewer females being born. Western society has rigid social roles.
Housework is for women etc. Remember this is fantasy.
There is no underage sex is this story.
Please forgive spelling and grammar mistakes. It was edited by a kind girl to be, who offered her services. Thanks F .
Andrew's mother had been a bit weepy lately. He had overheard her talking to his father about
"Which one do we choose?"
They were arguing again.
"We need to do it now, before they are too old,"
His mother said.
"But none of the boys look or seem to be attracted to girls things, how do we do it? Should we even do it?"
"I need help around the house. I work 8 hours a day at that office. I need help! Unless you want me to give up working?. We won't survive on your wages."
"I know but..."
"That's the trouble with you men, you all want women, but seem to think iit's so bad to be one. You know I always wanted a daughter.
They get used to it and grow to love it. It's all legal since the Fa'afafine bill. There are 10 in the school already, and they are looked after. Any teasing is punished severely. Besides, who's going to look after us when we get old?"
"OK! Let's let the boys draw bloody straws then, I'm not choosing."
With that he walked out of the room.
"Fine," mum said, then went to the kitchen to cut a straw into lengths.
"Boys, come here."
The three brothers walked into the kitchen. John is the oldest 12, Andrew is 11 and Paul is 9.
"Right you three pick a straw from my hand."
"Why mum," said John.
"Just do it!"
All three boys pulled out straws. Anna said to John,
"Come with me, I need to tell you something."
I am Andrew, well I was then. This is my story of how I was turned from son to daughter.
First I need to tell you about the world I live in.
The birth rate of males is double the birth rate of females. It happened after the 2nd World War. For the first 10 years it did not have too much effect as so many men were killed in the war that there were enough women to "go around".
The scientist were baffled. They could find no reason for this worldwide problem. By the 1960's, there was a marked rises of men fighting, and sometimes killing, over women. Women were a precious resource.
This resulted in the government passing laws on what jobs women could do. They were mostly restricted to the old the traditional female work.
Nursing, secretarial or homemaker.
Someone suggested that relaxing the laws on homosexuality may help curb the problem. This helped only slightly, however with the relaxing of the laws it was noticed there were a rise in crossdressers "coming out". In areas where this happened it was observed the level of violence fell slightly.
It appeared that, although desperate, most men would not go with another man, but would go with another man if he looked like a woman.
Soon all laws against crossdressing in public were dropped. The government also offered free gender re-assignment surgery for those that wanted it. It was almost encouraged by the state.
This was still not enough. One MP after returning from a visit to Samoa, told the prime minister about the Fa'afafine.
Fa'afafine are people who identify themselves as being of a third-gender or non-binary role in Samoa.
In the past it was thought that if a family had more boys than girls or not enough girls to help with women's duties about the house, male children would be chosen to be raised as Fa'afafine. This does not seem to be the case mostly, though there are a few stories of Fa'afafine who say they were "forced," into taking the role.
Six months later the Fa'afafine bill was passed.
This meant that if a male child wished, he could be designated as female.
If the parents wished, a child could be designated female, even though the child did not wish to be a girl. Doctors would be legally obliged to prescribe hormones if the parents wanted
The only thing stopping this discission, was the age of the child. It was decide that parents could not legally change the sex of a child 13 years and over. The child was too set in his birth gender by that age.
"Nooooo, I won't. You can't make me,"
I heard John scream.
"I don't care, you will do as you are told. Now shut up while I call your grandmother. You are going there an Saturday to start learning how to be
a girl."
"No! I won't,"
John screamed. Mother slapped his face and he started to cry.
My mother, went into the living room and John ran into his bedroom. Being the oldest he had his own room. I shared with Paul. I followed and asked what was happening.
"She wants me to be Fa'afafine!"
I had seen some of the boys at school suddenly turn up wearing skirts like the girls. There were only a few. The one in my class, Susan, told me her mum and dad were making her do it. Now mum was going to make John be a girl.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm running away,"
"Please don't, you can't."
I started to cry, I worshiped John. He taught me how to play football, fish and protected me from bullies.
I thought it through, if John ran away, I would probably be chosen, Or possibly Paul. I was protective of Paul. I hated the thought of him being sad.
So I said the only thing my 11 year old brain could think of. I would sacrifice myself.
"I'll do it, I'll be the girl!"
After we told mum and dad, they all looked relieved and happy.
"Thank you Andrew, it will be much easier now you have agreed to be a girl. You will stay with Nan for the next week. I have to get you some new clothes and dad has to decorate John's room,"
"Why is my room being decorated!"
"Well you will be moving in with Paul, your old room is your sisters now."
"No way, I'm keeping my room, it's mine."
"OK, when it is decorated, you can have it, but you will be wearing a cute dress and a nice pair of frilly knickers."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you can keep the room, but you will have to be the girl instead of Andrew"
"Alright fine."
He looked angry, but knew when to shut up.
"Mum, will I have to wear knickers?"
"You will wear everything that girls wear, don't worry, you will like it. I will get you a few things to wear tomorrow. You need to start being a girl and leaning about housework. You will stay at nan's for a week. You can start dressing as a girl then."
Saturday came around before I knew. Mother said that my brothers could play out with their friends. How I envied them.
It was half term and we had two weeks off school. I was not looking forward to going back. If mum had her way I would be wearing the girls uniform.
"Andrew, get your coat we are going to Nan's house now."
We left the house and as we took the 2 mile walk to my Nan's house, I felt like a death row inmate taking a walk to the gallows. I didn't know that at the time as I was only 11, but thinking back I had this sense of dread.
I just could not see any way out of this without upsetting a lot of people. I have been, and am now a "peacemaker". I put others before myself. Is that a feminine trait?
My mum held my hand, she had not done that since I was 8!
"I'm so glad you decided to be a girl, I think you will make a better girl than your brother. We are going to have so much fun and I have so much to show and teach you."
"Why do I have to stay with Nan for a week mum?
"It is so you can learn to start to be a girl without your brothers around. It will give you a chance to get used to it without your brothers distracting you."
"What if they laugh at me."
I started to well up.
"They won't, I promise you, they will know what will happen if they do.Trust me they will love having a sister."
"Will I have to go to school dressed as a girl?"
"Don't get upset, after you get to Nan's house you will start being a girl for good, there is no going back. I promise you will like it, though."
We arrived and my Nan hugged and kissed me .
"So you decided to come over to the better side of the two sexes then!"
I did not answer, I was dumbstruck that the women I trusted seem to think I was going to enjoy this.
My mum gave Nan a bag and said, "These are her clothes for the week, I have got a government grant from Fa'afafine dept. I will be buying her new clothes next week. I 'm going to keep some back for when we can go mother daughter shopping! I can't wait!"
She nearly squealed the last bit. I didn't fail to notice I was a "her" now.
"Before you go,what shall I call her, did you think of a name?"
Mum looked at me.
"I was thinking of Andrea, Is Andrea OK with you? I was going to call you Andrea if you were a girl and now you are."
"OK mum, I don't mind."
I think I had nearly given up now, this was really going to happen.
She hugged me and said,
"Be a good girl, do everything Nan says, and have fun!"
Then she left me to my fate.
"Right, upstairs and I'll run you a bath."
Ten minutes later I was sitting in a scented bath and Nan told me to wash my hair with the shampoo. Even the shampoo smelled of flowers.
Nan told me to come to the bedroom in just my towel, so I put it around my waist and left the bathroom.
"Right, lesson one, girls put their towels around their chest."
She lifted it further up and tucked it in over the top of my chest.
"Girls, worry that people will see their boobs, even when they almost haven't any."
On the bed were a white cotton vest with small pink flowers on, and a pair of white cotton knickers to match. Both had white lace around all the edges.
"Right, now Andrea, put your undies on."
I hesitated, this was it, no going back.
"Come on girl, knickers on, you have a lot to learn today."
I pulled the knickers up under my towel. One thing most women will know, but forget due to that fact they wear soft lacy clothes every day. Is that you can feel the lace on your skin as they slip up your legs. When they were up, I could even feel the lace around my legs as I moved. They were so soft. The vest felt just as good.
Nan saw my face and said ,
"You like them don't you? Well don't worry there are things that feel a lot nicer than that! If you are a good girl I will show you."
She opened a cupboard, I saw Three dresses and some skirts hanging in there.
"Right, this baby blue one looks nice."
She unzipped it at the back and told me to step in. I did and when I put my arms through short puffed sleeves she zipped it back up. How could I get out of this without help?
The dress flared out at he waist and had white lace trim on the short sleeves and the bottom of the skirt.
Next came the white socks, then the Mary Jane shoes.
She sat me in front of the mirror and spent the next 10 minutes brushing my hair. It straightened out enough for her to part it in the middle and pull it back into a ponytail. She added a blue ribbon to keep it in place.
My boy hair made me look like a metal guitarist, or so I thought. Now it made me look like a girl.
"Right, downstairs, time to teach you how to be a useful girl!"
"But what will Granddad say if he sees me"
"Granddad is away working on an oil rig, when he gets back he will love seeing his beautiful new Granddaughter.
As I walked down the stairs, I could feel my hair bounce, I could feel the lace on the sleeves of my dress tickling my arms, the dress' skirt lightly touching my knees and the tight legs of my soft knickers caressing my legs.
How do girls cope with all these feelings, wearing such soft, frilly clothes?
Is this what the rest of my life will feel like?
We went into the kitchen.
"Right let's bring you down to earth shall we? You can wash up. You will need this."
She handed me a bright yellow apron. When it was over my head she tied a big bow at the back.
I had never done this, I had seen my mum do it a thousand times, how hard could it be?
Nowadays, as I am well beyond "The other side of the fence" I realize how stupid it is that all men just don't do "women's work".
There is no reason for them not to. In fact, many do, those that live alone have no choice. They just don't advertise the fact. It is this silly attitude that some jobs are "women's work" and it is demeaning for men to do them. I'm sure it is just to make sure precious females stay mostly around the home where they are safe.
With some encouragement from my Nan I managed to cope with this task.
"There, you haven't burst into flames, have you? Right, next task is ironing."
She adjusted the ironing board to my height and brought in a basket of washing.
"You need to learn what needs to be ironed and what doesn't."
I went though the basket and held each item up. It was all her washing.
"That, my dear girl, is a suspender belt." .
"What's a suspender belt Nan?"
"It's what ladies use to hold up their stockings, dear. You will find some of those in the basket too. This is a great way of finding out what's in store for you as you grow up. You are too young for stockings, but we will go shopping later and I will get you some tights. They feel almost as good."
As I worked I learned about, blouses, dresses, panty girdles, full cut knickers, bras and petticoats. These felt so soft and smooth, I almost looked forward to wearing one.
I wondered why I had thought that?. I was a boy, why was I just going along with this?. I thought about it. I was being treated as someone special. I was having fun. I know some of the Fafa at my school were not happy about it, but once they were Fafa, they never changed back. I did not want to find out why. I assumed the threat of some horrible punishment awaited.
After I made poor job of the ironing nan said, "Don't worry you will get better, ask any women, there is enough ironing to last until the end of time. You will learn how to wash, separate colours and hand wash. There is a lot more to being a girl than wearing pretty clothes, Andrea. Now sit down and I will get you some milk and biscuits."
I went to sit on the chair..
"When you sit down Andrea, smooth your skirt under you."
She made me do this several times until I got it right.
"If you don't, you will sit straight on your bare legs and knickers, and you could end up with your skirt around your waist. Keep your legs together too, or people will see your knickers."
I blushed a little. I had done the same to some of the girls at school. There we only 23 girls in my school, they were always being looked at by us boys. I had a sudden thought, the boys would be trying to do the same to me in a few weeks!
I finished my milk as Nan came downstairs carrying a white girls coat with fluffy white fur around the sleeves and collar.
"Put this on, we're going shopping."
I hesitated at the front door, until now it had just been Nan who saw me like this. Now I was going into the big wide world.
"Come on, Andrea, you look fine."
Then off we went walking towards the bus stop.
As I walked my clothes seem to want to remind me they were there. I felt the cool breeze blow up under my skirt. The lace of my knickers tickled slightly as I walked. The hem of my skirt brushed my legs with each step. Would I ever get used to this?
At the bus stop Nan met her friend Else Davis.
"Who's this pretty young thing then."
"She's my grandchild, Andrea."
"But your daughter has three bo.....Oh, right. Well I could have sworn you were born a girl dear. You look so pretty. I am sure you will love being a young lady."
I was confused, I felt insulted that it only took a dress and brushing my hair to make me look like a girl. I also felt happy that she thought I was pretty.
The bus arrived and we were off to the shops.
Shall I continue this one?
This is a fantasy story set in the U.K., in a world where there are fewer females being born. Western society has rigid social roles.
Housework is for women etc. Remember this is fantasy.
Please read Part 1 to make sense of Part 2
There is no underage sex is this story.
When the bus arrived all three of us got on and sat on the bench seats at the end of the bus. These seats faced each other. We sat facing Elsie.
“Well then Jan, where are you two off to then?”
I wasn’t used to hearing Nan’s first name. I called her Nan and my mum called her mum.
“We’re going shopping for some food. I need a little extra with my guest staying. After that we are going to look for a few more clothes for Andrea”
“Are you looking forward to it Andrea?”
I did not know what to say. She was expecting me to say I was. I know girls get excited about clothes. The few girls in my class, and even the Fafa were always talking about what clothes they had just bought. It was something women and girls seem to care about. I knew there was no way out of this without one of my brothers suffering. So I put on my best fake smile and said.
“Yes I am Mrs Davis, Nan has been telling me all about what I can wear as a girl”
“You are such a lucky thing, one of the best things about being a girl are the clothes. Well at your age anyway.”
She winked at Nan.
I was not sure what that was all about. Grownups do strange things.
“Anyway Elsie, how is Burt? Is his back still playing up?”
“He’s getting over it now. I told him I should trade him in for a younger model. Plenty of men out there want women these days”
Nan smiled.
"I know you are devoted to each other. Divorce is almost impossible these days anyway. You know how possessive men get over women.".
"Just joking, I would never leave him, he's the love of my life."
“Andrea helped with the washing today. She seemed to like my stockings, so I told he if she was a good girl, I would get her some tights.”
“I remember my first pair of stockings. I thought I was so grown up. They felt heavenly.”
“I think I’m getting tights Mrs Davis “
“Don’t worry dear, they will feel just as good. Nowadays girls wear tights a lot younger. I was sixteen when I got my first pair of stockings”
The bus stopped to let on some passengers. A man sat down next to Mrs Davis, got out a newspaper and started reading.
“So what Else are you going to buy apart from tights then Andrea?”
Nan lent across the gap and lowered her voice.
“She’s going to need a few dresses, skirts, blouses and underwear”
Nan sat back in her seat. Mrs Davis looked her in the eyes, then looked down at my legs.
I looked down to see it there was anything on them. As I looked up, I saw the man staring over his newspaper at my legs.
My Nan quickly pushed my right leg into my left so they were closed. The bus stopped and the man got up, and left looking flustered.
I didn’t know what was happening.
“Dirty old sod”
Said Mrs Davis.
I looked at Nan, to see if I had done something wrong. She lent over and kissed my head.
“Sorry Andrea, I forgot you’re not used to wearing skirts. That man was looking at your knickers. You have to remember to keep your legs closed. Especially when you sit opposite someone. “
I didn’t understand. When I was dressed as a boy no one wanted to see my underpants. It must be because knickers were prettier than pants. That’s why men must want to look at them.
“Don’t worry Andrea, you have a lot to learn, but your Nan is a good teacher. It will be worth it, being a girl is wonderful. And you Andrea are going to be very pretty. You will be beating the boys off with a stick”
I had a vision of myself in a skirt at the top of a hill, hitting boys, as the rushed up to get at me. I sort of knew what Mrs Davis meant though. Again I felt proud she called me pretty.
We got off the bus after saying goodbye to Mrs Davis, and went into the supermarket.
Most of the people that worked there were men. I remember my mum told me women tended to work in shops that sold women’s clothes. She said they are nicer places to work and didn’t get bothered by men all the time. I remember being bored and looking out of the window. Mum was choosing bras.
Out of the blue, the thought stuck me. I would have to do that one day. He had seen the older Fafa’s at school. They had “boobies” like the other girls.
Nan showed me how to choose fruit and vegetables. What to look out for when buying meat. She said we were going to make a casserole later.
We left the super market and headed into the shopping centre. Nan asked me if I needed the loo. I did, but I knew it would mean going into the ladies.
I never forgot I was now a girl. The breeze blowing around my knickers reminded me I was not wearing trousers. I did like the feeling of freedom the dress gave me. The slight tickle of the hem of the skirt part of the dress on my legs felt nice too.
Before we got to the toilet, Nan reminded me to sit down and wipe after I peed. I knew I could just pee standing, but she told me I need to get used it.
In the stall I could hear the noise of ladies peeing. They did not sound like I did when I peed. I looked down at my white knickers down around my ankles. One day I will probably sound the same as they did. It drove it home to me. This was not a game I could stop. This was for real. My life was changing.
We went to a shop called Annabel Fashions. Nan said to the women that she was buying me some new clothes. She never mention about me being Fafa. I was grateful for that.
We looked at rows of dresses, skirts and tops. Nan asked my opinion when she thought something might suit me. After an hour she had me try on several dresses. Some had full sleeves, some had cap sleeves, some had just straps.
I settled for a black, what she called a sheath style dress. A white high waist dress with a two tiered skirt. The last was blue with red flowers, something she called A line. How would I remember all this?
She got me two skirts. A loose one, plain black that went below my knees, and another dark red pleated skirt. There were two blouses, in white and pink, and a few t-shirts.
In the mirror I saw how the different clothes made me look. I looked just like any other girl. I did look pretty. Should I have been born a girl?
Then came the underwear. Nan showed me into the underwear section. I saw a sea of frills and lace. Some of them looked like silky boys shorts. Nan said these were called French knickers. She said I was too young to wear those. I asked about the ones with a what looked like a string at the back. She said they were called thongs, she said no one should wear those. I could not see why anyone would wear string up their bum?
She showed me boy shorts, tanga, brazillian, bikini and lots more. My head span. Why do women need so many different types. I could see lots of different bras too.
I asked Nan and she told me women like to look and feel nice under their clothes. She handed me a pair of white French knickers.
“Feel those”
They felt so soft and smooth. I wondered what it would feel like to wear them.
“We women have such choice in our clothes. It’s fun to choose, even better when you wear something that make you look good”
I was starting to understand I think.
We went to the teenage section. She picked up a packet of day of the week nylon knickers. These were in different colours, and I notice they had a half inch of white lace around the top and leg holes.
“A little more grown up than those cotton ones your mum got you.”
She then picked up a pair of what she called rhumba style. They were pale blue and covered in white and blue lace.
Before you say no, just feel them.”
I ran my fingers over the lace, it tickled. The main part was very smooth and soft. I imagined wearing them. They would feel wonderful against my skin. The lace would surely tickle me as I moved. I would love to try them.
They looked silly though, almost babyish, but no one would see what I was wearing under my dress, would they?
“Yes please Nan”
“You know what Andrea, I think you’ll be just fine.”
Lastly she selected three pairs of tights. One white, one black, and one that looked see through. She called these flesh colour. That didn't make sense. My flesh wasn't that colour I thought.
I couldn’t wait to get back to Nan’s to try my new clothes on.