The Crucible        by: Janet L. Stickney          JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

In our youth, we learn may things. We learn to walk and talk, interact with others, dress ourselves and so on. Into that crucible, we toss that moment when we learn about ourselves. We are boys or girls, our physical being, an undeniable fact that defines how we are to be raised, treated, and dressed, yet some of us know that being called a boy is somehow wrong. A mistake that nature laughingly foisted on us, and by the time we reach the age of understanding, the memory of all those past moments, when we knew that wearing a dress was right, not wrong, combined with the fear of the future, the unknown, we succumb to those forces that drive us to be what everyone says we are not…a girl. We secretly borrow clothes from a sister or mother, and steal a few sacred moments to wear those clothes and feel the tension of our newly confirmed inner knowledge, any and all fear draining away in the excitement of the moment. I am like that.

Those precious times when I was able to get dressed in a skirt and blouse, or maybe a dress, lifted my spirits, and allowed me to continue to be able to force the facade of my manhood on myself and the outer world. Inside, only I knew the truth. By the time I reached the lofty age of 14, it was clear to me that to be caught dressed as a girl would be the death knell, a catastrophe that would fall on me with the entire weight of the world, so I quit trying to be what I wasn't, trying to put those desires in the back of my mind. That lasted about four months. Then, when I could no longer deny myself the pleasure I gained from a mere scrap of clothing, and the dreams that always came along with it, I once again borrowed some clothes, and in the privacy of my room, once again became the flower that would never bud. Susan. I liked the name, and used it whenever I would get dressed. Only twice in the past had anyone every seen me dressed this way, and both times it had been my Mother. Each time she had merely told me to change clothes, which of course I did as quickly as possible. As I grew older, I had begun to try using makeup, doing my best, however bad that was. I had on the blue skirt with a pink blouse, my hair brushed back into a ponytail, I wore blusher and lipstick, my feet in the black heels, standing in front of the mirror, soaking up the image I saw there, printing the image into my memory, when the door opened.

Mom saw me of course, her reflection in the mirror, looking over my shoulder, sent a chill down my spine as I waited for the inevitable to happen. A scolding followed by being grounded, hatred and dismal looks. Then I saw her smile at me. She sat on my bed, quiet and calm, yet, as her eyes took in the sad sight I presented, her smile never left her face.

"When you were younger I thought that you were just curious and let it go, but now that you're 14, and should know better, it's obvious that dressing as a girl is more than curiosity, maybe a lot more. Care to tell me about it?"

The flood of words that came to my mind remained unsaid as I stood there, scared and frozen in place. Her gaze did not waver, locking on me, holding me in place as she waited for an answer, yet how could I tell her that I wanted to be a girl and not a boy? How could I say to her that the lure of the clothes was not the only reason I had dressed this way? My pride was shattered, my lips refused to voice those words she wanted to hear, and I felt ashamed. Only her calm smile as she sat unmoving kept me from running away.

"Maybe you should change. Maybe you'll be able to tell me then. I'll be in the familyroom."

I never cleaned up so quickly. I took a shower, slipped on my jeans and a shirt ,then my shoes and brushed my hair out, then drew in a deep breath before I walked into the familyroom. There was only Mom and I now. Dad had been killed in a bombing in Bosnia, one of the few reservists killed over there. She and I had recovered, but now she knew, or at least suspected, that I did not want to follow in Dad's footsteps. I wanted to follow in hers. She was in her favorite chair, watching as I sat on the couch, the words of denial on my lips, yet she and I both knew better. It had been obvious to all but a blind man.

"I'm sure that you would like nothing more than to tell me it was just a lark, but it's not. It can't be, not with you hiding in your room like that. Hiding tells me that you're scared and ashamed, and if you are ashamed, then it's more than a lark, so I want you to tell me why you keep dressing as a girl. If you don't know, tell me."

As soon as I opened my mouth, it all came out in a torrent of hate and anger, desire and dismay, a jumble of disconnected words punctuated with sobs, lubricated with tears. I told her that I wanted to be a girl, a real girl, not just a boy in a dress. I wanted to wear the clothes and makeup, perfume and heels, giggle and laugh with my girlfriends, and become the woman she was. By the time I was done I was soaked in sweat and tears, nervous and scared as I waited for her the throw me out. I knew that I was the worst son a Mother could ever have. Silence reigned in the room even as I sobbed inside. Mom listened without a word, nod, or any indication she understood me at all, but when I fell silent, she came to me and pulled me into her arms, holding me tightly to her breast as she wiped away my tears. No words, just the familiar comfort of her arms.

"We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay Mom."

My days were filled with anxious hours as I wondered what Mom would do, or say, and my days were filled with envy for the girls I saw each day, most of them unaware of the gift of their femininity. It was a long few days as my envy and fear had to be held inside while I presented myself as just one of the guys. On Thursday after school I was met by Mom at the door, and without a word, she took me to my room. On the bed were several packages, all from a department store.

"I bought these clothes for you, but I don't want you to try them on yet. Tomorrow, after school, we will see about making you into the girl you think you are. I only gave them to you today so that you could look them over. I'll help you get dressed. Okay?"

"Okay!"

Mom left the room and I eagerly opened the first of the bags, finding a skirt and blouse, a slip and some panties, then a small bra. The second bag contained a pair of shoes, a bulky pantybrief and some small pink boxes. The third bag had pantyhose and some jewelry plus some makeup. I could hardly contain myself, wanting to try everything on right then, but did not. Mom seemed to be willing to help me, and I was not about to ruin that. I hung up the clothes and moved the rest of the bags to the dresser. Neither of us mentioned the clothes for the rest of the night. The next day seemed to drag by as I waited for the moment I could become the girl I always knew I was, so by the time school let out, I was a bundle of anxious nerves swelling with hope, and more, I would finally get to see the girl I had held inside, probably looking better than I had done by myself. Mom once again met me at the door, then, once we were in my room, she told me to strip. Once I was down to my briefs, she used a cream all over me, causing the thin hair I had developed to wash away in the shower. Since I had not yet started to shave, all I had to do was wash my hair. When I appeared in my room, wrapped in a towel, Mom handed me a pair of panties, waiting until I had them on before she took me to her room and sat me at her vanity.

It did not hurt at all as she wound my hair in the rollers, big and small, pinning them in place as she went. Then she handed me a new bottle of foundation, coaching me on the way to apply it, using two fingers to spread it evenly on my face. Following the foundation, a dusting of powder, which made me look like a ghost. After a short wait, I brushed away the excess, leaving my face smooth and soft looking, and all at once I could see just how much better I looked, and loved it. Then came the eyeshadow, a dab of blue followed by the soft tan color, blended with a small sponge. The eyeliner was harder, but I managed to draw an almost straight line on my upper lids, the brown glistening before it dried to a solid color. Under each eye was harder, as I had to use a pencil. I thought I might stab my eye, but didn't, and the dark brown color finished outlining my eyes.

"That's enough for now, lets get you dressed."

I expected her to hand me the bra, but instead of that, she opened the two small pink boxes, and I saw what looked like a breast in each one! Mom took one of them, and after a careful marking, she attached one over each of my own breasts. I felt the weight of them as they pulled on my own skin, and relished the idea that I could go braless if I wanted to! Mom handed me the bra, and showed me how to put it on, adjusting the straps so that I had lift, which made my new boobs poke out, yet they looked so soft and real. The bulky pantybrief was made to give me hips and round out my bottom. After I had that on, I pulled on the pantyhose, delighting in the way they felt against my now hairless skin, and gave an involuntary shiver. Mom grinned at me, then handed me the slip and helped me slip it over the rollers and settle it on my shoulders before she went to the closet. I had seen only the skirt and blouse, but she brought out a dress instead. It was a pale green, a sheath with a round neckline and zipped up the back.

Once again she helped me get it over the rollers, then she zipped it up and led me back to her vanity where she took out the rollers and brushed out my hair. She had faced me away from the mirror, so I had no idea what she was doing, except I knew I would love it, and didn't say a word as she sprayed me with hairspray. Then she did my blusher for me, and held out the shoes. My feet went into them, surprising me a bit that they fit so well. As I sat there, she attached the earrings, put a necklace on me, and slipped a ring on each hand before she walked me to the full mirror. My first look at myself sent me into shock, as I had never looked like this, ever! As I stood there staring, I felt the lipstick being pressed into my hand. I took it, and drew it on, turning my lips a soft reddish pink color. My hair fell in waves down the sides, with bangs curled under and swept to one side. My new breasts, small as they were, pushed out against the thin material, even as the dress was drawn in at my waist, flaring out at the hip to fall at mid thigh on me. My legs, the ones I thought were so knobby, were now sleek and shapely as the white heels pushed my bottom up a little. I was speechless.

"Just what do we call you? I'm sure that you've picked out a name by now."

"Susan" I said softly, still staring in the mirror.

"Is this what you had in mind all those times you dressed up?"

"Oh…yes!"

"I'm glad for you honey. Lets go out on the patio and have some tea. The sun is out, it's too nice a day to stay inside."

"But…"

"You said that you wanted to be a girl, and I helped you look like one, and really, you do. Girls don't stay in the house all the time dear, so I insist that you join me for some tea. You'll be perfectly safe. Maybe we can do your nails out there."

Mom opened the door and stepped out, waiting for me to join her. I took my first ever step outside of my room, wearing a dress, and followed her to the kitchen, taking some glasses as she got the iced tea and her nail kit. As we went out on the patio, I felt the familiar terror of the unknown biting at me, but swallowing hard, I stepped out and sat next to Mom. We stayed out there for almost an hour while Mom added nail tips, filing them to a rounded point and painting them to match my lipstick. I was overjoyed and scared at the same time, especially when I heard the neighbors outside. Even though we were separated by a tall wooden fence, a girl in my class named Sara lived there. All I would need is for her to see me this way. My nails gleamed in the light as the new polish reflected the color every time I moved my hands, and every time it sent a shiver down my back. This is what ecstasy had to be. To be truthful, I didn't look much like my old self any more. I looked like a budding young girl of 14, just like the girls I saw every day at school. I drank my tea, trying to hide my excitement, even as Mom was staring at me.

"I can tell that this is what you wanted all along Susan. You can't quit smiling. Now that we agree that you are a lovely girl, why don't you come grocery shopping with me? It will be good experience for you, and I'll be there the whole time."

"Store? Me? Mom, I can't…"

"I'll get you a purse. Go get your wallet and lipstick."

That was it. Mom gave me a white purse, and headed for the front door, with me lagging behind. I dared a quick peek before I walked quickly to the car, slouching in the seat as Mom pulled out of the driveway, only sitting up straight when we were out of the neighborhood. Mom only smiled at me. She pulled in the lot and parked the car, I grabbed a loose cart, and followed her inside the store, hoping beyond hope that nobody I knew would be there. We went up and down the aisles without a hitch, and I began to relax just a bit, then Mom told me to grab a box of sanitary items. Of course I was embarrassed, but I added them to our cart. We turned the corner, ready to go down the baked goods aisle, when I heard a woman call out to Mom.

"Mary! Mary!"

Mom and I both turned to see who it was. It was Mrs. Grant, a neighbor from down the block. She was dressed to the nines as usual, full makeup, her hair looked like it had just been done, a stylish dress, and lots of jewelry.

"Hello Connie!"

"Mary dear! Who is this charming young lady?"

"This is Susan. Susan, this is Connie Grant, and old friend of mine."

Mrs. Grant shook my hand, then asked Mom and I to join her at the annual ladies party that would be held at the country club the following Saturday night!

I knew that Mom always went, and she said it was a lot of fun, with just the girls there. Mom had mentioned before that the men were let in after eight o'clock, so it would not be a total loss to use her words. To my great and extreme horror, Mom accepted, telling Mrs. Grant that we would both be there! Mrs. Grant, was smiling as she walked away, leaving me staring at Mom.

"Well, I could hardly say that you couldn't be there, could I? That would be rude and you know it. All we have to do is get you a party dress and maybe get your hair styled. You didn't see any sign that she knew who you were did you?"

"No, but…"

"You'll be fine Susan. Lets finish here, then, after we take the food home and put it away, we can see if we can find you a party dress."

All the way home I wondered why Mom had accepted for both of us, knowing how scared I was. What if, maybe, she was trying to embarrass me? I dropped that idea right away, since she would be equally guilty by letting me dress this way, which meant that she thought I could do it, and get away with it. That wasn't a lot of comfort, but more than none. Mom pulled into the driveway, and opened the trunk. I had my purse over my shoulder, a bag in each arm, when Sara walked around the corner of the house and saw me. Without a word she took two bags. Sara gave no sign that she knew who I was, and since I had no choice, I smiled at her, even though I had a lump in my throat the size of a small cow, and followed Mom into the house, with Sara right behind me. We sat the bags on the table, and while I was hoping Sara would just leave, she stayed there, smiling at Mom and I.

"Sara, this is Susan. She'll be here on and off for a while."

"Hi! It'll be nice to have another girl my age around here once in a while."

I was at a loss for words, and did not want to speak in case she recognized my voice, but as Sara looked at me, I saw her eyes go wide, then her hands went to her face, and I knew that she had figured out who I was.

"Susan and were going out to get her a party dress for the annual shindig at the country club Sara, maybe you would like to come along."

"I wouldn't miss it! I'll go tell my Mom."

Sara left, and I turned to look at Mom, who I thought had set me up to be made fun of, but she raised her hand, and I fell silent just as Sara walked in.

"Sara, Susan, sit down please."

Both of us looked at Mom, then she came right out and told Sara who I was, and wanted to know if she could keep my secret! I wanted to sink into the floor in shame.

"You bet! I don't understand why you want to be a girl, but since I'm the only girl on the street, it'll be nice to have someone to do things with. I won't tell a soul! I promise."

"Okay then. But I don't want you to try and put Susan in any position where her secret might be an issue Sara. I would have to talk to your mother, and I know that you don't want that. As far as you and anyone else is concerned, Susan is just staying here now and then, and is actually a girl, just like you. Now then, let's go find Susan a party dress."

Actually, with Sara along, I lost all fear of being discovered, and her manner of speaking was infectious. I soon found myself talking the same way she was, which was a bit eerie. I had thought that we would merely find a dress and buy it, and I was almost right. Mom dragged me into a lingerie shop and bought an item she called a waist nipper. Then, in the department store, she bought a package of panties and two more bras before we even got to the dresses. Sara was picking out the ones she liked, Mom was doing the same, but I found one I really liked. I held it in my hand so they could both see it, and both Sara and Mom added their choices to my hand! Then I found myself in a changing booth with Mom as I tried on each of them. In the end, we all liked the one Sara picked out. The dress is an A line style dress with cap sleeves, a round neck and fell to just below my knees. The soft blue dress twinkled in the light whenever I moved, the metallic in the dress catching the light and reflecting it. I stood there smiling at my reflection in the mirror, an image of a young girl about to go to her first big event. Mom told me to change, then we all went home. Mom asked Sara if she wanted to go to the party with us, and of course she said yes.

Sara stayed at my house until late, and because she and I had bonded, as only two girls can, we talked about why I felt this way. It seemed that I was able to tell her things that I was unable to tell Mom, yet she never flinched or told me I was weird. The next morning I wore the skirt and blouse when Mom and I went to church, but as soon as we got home I changed back to my old male self. Taking the breastforms off was the hardest, not physically, but emotionally. I had quickly grown used to them, and wanted to keep them on, but could not. Sara seemed a little put out that I had changed back, even though she knew why I had to do it. She and I walked to school every day anyway, but now it was as if two girls were walking together, not a boy and a girl, as she told me what she was going to wear, asked me about shoes and jewelry, suggesting some options for me. Even dressed as a male, Sara managed to set that aside and simply be my friend, and coach in a way. School let out for the summer on Thursday, and I figured Mom and I had plenty of time to find shoes and so on, which made Sara laugh. She told me that sometimes, two months is not enough time to find just the right outfit! Two months?

Mrs. Grant sent me a nice note, telling me that she was looking forward to seeing me again, which was very nice of her. Mom wasn't home when I got there on Thursday early afternoon, so I went to my room, undressed, and quickly got dressed in a pair of my cut off jeans and a tee, wearing the plain white bra with the breastforms simply slipped into the cups, and white panties. I used a pair of my own white anklet socks and my gym shoes. Then I tried my hand at makeup, deciding to quit after I got the foundation and powder on. It made me look more like Sara, and more natural. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, brushed out some bangs, and went to get a soda. As I walked into the kitchen I saw Sara standing at the patio door, ready to knock. I let her in, and saw that she was dressed much like I was.

"My parents have decided to go to the party Susan, and that means they'll see you and your Mom together."

"So?"

"So who are you? A daughter, niece, friend, what?"

I had no answer for that, and said so.

"Besides that, you look so much like your Mother that I doubt anyone would believe that you're not her daughter, including my Mom, which means that you need to tell her, before the party, or she might ask a question you don't want asked, at a very bad time!"

Just as I was about to agree with Sara, Mom walked in. Sara told her what she told me, and our conclusion.

"You're right Sara, they should know, but I want Susan to be a little better dressed than she is right now, and I want to talk to her first. Ask your mother if she would like to do a little pot luck tonight. We can grill some burgers or something."

"Okay, I'll have her call you."

After Sara left, Mom went into her lawyer mode, which she does often, since she actually is a lawyer. She asked me straight out if I really wanted the neighbors to know, because if not, I should tell her now. My hands went to my hair, then fell, one on each of my breasts, and I knew that I did not want to give them up again, but...

"If we tell them, we might as well tell everyone Susan. The circle of people that would learn of this change cannot be held closely once someone else knows. People slip when they talk, refer to you as he when you're standing there in a dress, or worse, get mad and yell it out. I trust them, and don't think they will cause any trouble, but if they do, then it will be better here than at the party. If they accept you, then we can ask them to not tell anyone, and see how it goes. Is that okay with you? Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand it Mom, but I…I missed having breasts, after just a few days, and now that I have all summer, I thought that I…"

"If you do this tonight, and go to the party on Saturday, depending on how it goes, you'll wear them full time, because you will be working in my office as a clerk."

The phone rang, Mom answered it, then she told me they would be over at six.

The mixture of events, the confluence of my desire versus the hard reality of someone else finding out, had driven me to the very edge of my determination. I had always been afraid of admitting I wanted to be a girl, then, when it happened, it seemed like it was one thing after another, piling on, making my natural fear take a back seat. My thrill at having breasts, so lifelike, feeling as if they were my own, had been the final stake in my awakening. I knew that I wanted them, as they were a stark and undeniable symbol of my willingness to become the girl I always knew I wanted to be. I had left the house, been shopping, tried on clothes, all without any problem, yet now I would have to let our neighbors see me, and learn the truth. As I thought of all of the things that could happen tonight, my head began pounding, my heart raced, yet Mom had been right. If nobody knew, they could not hurt me with it, if everyone knew, they could not hurt me with it. It was that middle part that was hard. My reverie was broken when Mom took my arm and led me to my room.

"Lets reattach the breastforms first, then I want to watch you do your makeup while I brush out your hair. You can wear a pair of your own shorts, the khaki ones I think, and I'll get you a shell to wear."

It did not take me long to do my makeup as I once again did not wear any eyeshadow, mascara or eyeliner. Just the foundation and powder with blusher and lipstick. Mom brushed my hair back, set in a hair band, then, after she brushed my bangs down, trimmed them with scissors. Once the breastforms were attached, Mom left me to finish getting dressed. My shorts fit me almost perfectly, only tighter in the seat, but the green shell fit nicely, and I left it hanging out. I put on the ankle socks and my gym shoes again, then went to the kitchen, found the nail kit, and sat waiting form Mom. As soon as she walked in the kitchen, she started on my nails, and within twenty minutes I once again had the tapering nails again. I painted them a plum color, waiting for them to dry as Mom set about making some things for the pot luck. As soon as my nails were dry, I helped set up the table.

Sara and her parents walked over about an hour later. I was sitting on the patio drinking an iced tea when they arrived. Sara's Mother saw me and nodded her head, her Father smiled at me and set things on the table while Sara joined me. Our Mom's set things up while Sara and I helped, and not once did either of them question who I was, and I saw Sara wink at me a few times. Then dinner was served.

"Sara tells us that you are going to the party at the club on Saturday. Do you have your dress already?"

I said I did, then described it for Sara's Mom.

Not one word was said about my being dressed as a girl, and I was treated just as Sara was. Later, after they went home, Mom told me that she had talked to them before they got to our house, because she did not want to embarrass me if it did not go well. My delight at being outside of my room as a girl had thrilled me from the first moment Mom took my hand, but the moment I let someone else know about me, I was committed. I had stepped off the edge of the security of my own room, and grasped the idea that I could become a girl. Sara's parents had seemed to accept me, which sent my feelings soaring, and I got lost the enchantment of my long held dreams, the swirls of my fantasy, as it came true. I lay in bed that night, wrapped in the softness of the nylon nightgown, gleefully rubbing my breasts, knowing that I would wear them for the summer, no thought of the danger they represented.

My dreams spiraled into one of unrepentant desire as I saw myself as the maiden who fit the glass slipper, then became a Princess, with beautiful clothes, all soft and silky, my beauty next to none. The magic carpet of my dreams swept me from place to place as I became a real girl, a woman with beauty and grace, then a mother and wife. The shrill banging of the alarm dragged me back to the present, and my dreams vanished as quickly as they arrived. I looked at the soft tan wallpaper, the clunky, boyish furniture, and they brought me back to reality, confirmed when I went in the bath, and stood there easing my bladder. I held myself, not with disgust, but dismay, knowing it would always be there, mocking me, the only true sign of my masculinity.

I wore the shorts and shell again, went to the kitchen, and found a list of chores on the kitchen table. I had something to eat, then tackled the list. I took them one at a time, dishes, then vacuuming, followed by a load of laundry. When that was done, I turned the page and saw what Mom had written.

Do your nails

Take a long, hot bubblebath, shave everywhere you need it.

Be as pretty as you can when I get home.

That was it. I looked at the clock, then went to my room and filled the tub, liberally using the bubblebath, and sank into the hot water, letting the oily water soak into my skin. As I drew the razor over my skin, I raised a leg, like I had seen women do on television, and grinned as I slowly removed any sign of hair. I even trimmed my groin a bit. Wrapped in a robe, I sat at Mom's vanity and removed the old polish, and did my nails with the pink that had crushed pearls in it. By the time my nails were dry, I felt feminine right to the core of my being. I slipped on the panties, a bra, then a skirt and blouse. I was barefoot, sitting on the patio when Sara came over. She had also spent the day on her chores, and the two of us just sat and relaxed. Then, Mrs. Grant walked around the house. As always, she looked really great, as if she had stepped out of a fashion magazine for older women.

"Hello Susan. I rang the bell, and thought you might be out here."

"Mom will be home in a little bit, would you like some iced tea Ma'am?"

"That would be very nice dear, thank you."

I got her a glass of tea, and the three of sat there in the sunlight, simply enjoying it.

"I know this might seem rude, but my Grandsons will be here this weekend, and will be attending the party. I know this is an imposition dear, but I came by to see if you would allow one of them to escort you to the party. I was also going to ask you if you had a friend that might also help me. Sara, maybe you…"

"That would be very nice Mrs. Grant. Susan and I will look forward to it."

Just then, Mom walked out on the patio, and we filled her in on what Mrs. Grant wanted us to do. Mrs. Grant left, as did Sara, leaving me to wonder how I would manage with a boy my age as a date! I told her what was said, emphasizing that I never agreed to this, Sara did, and now I was stuck. Mom didn't bat an eye. Instead, she told me that we both had appointments at her salon, for what she called the works, then went to change. We had a light dinner, then Mom and I watched television until bed time. In the morning, she told me not to wear any makeup, and just a skirt and blouse. I felt extremely naked without makeup, and was sure that everyone would see that I was a boy, but she insisted, and just after noon, she drove us to the salon.

Never having been in a salon before, I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was they did hair. I followed Mom inside, she gave our names, and all at once a girl came, took my arm, and whisked me into a small booth, handing me a heavy terry cloth robe to wear. I left my panties on, hoping that I could continue to hide my manhood, and wrapped the robe tightly around myself. I walked out of the booth, and saw Mom, dressed like I was, and followed her into another room. Each of us were sat in a chair, much like the kind used at a dentists office, then the girl began to smear a heavy, mud all over my face. I smelled okay, and I relaxed and let it happen. A slice of lemon went over each eye, and we simply lay there for about an hour. When the girl took it off, I heard, rather than felt, the ripping sound as she yanked it off my face. My hand went to my face, and even though I had shaved before we got here, my skin felt smoother! Mom and went in the sauna, just the two of us, and sweltered until I was sure I had shrunk an inch or so. After that we slipped into an icy pool of water, dried off, and put the robes back on.

It was almost like a dream as Mom and I sat there, side by side, and had our hair cut and styled, our nails were done, eyebrows plucked, and finally, we had our makeup done. I watched my carefully applied nail polish was removed, acrylic nails were added, then filed down and repainted a soft brownish red, two coats with clear over that! My nails were really shiny now, and looked better than Mom and I had ever managed to do them. I had never felt the sting of tweezing, yet, as the pile of small hair grew in my lap, I knew that there was no way to hide what she was doing to me, and I did not care. My hair, a sandy brown, was dyed to a softer blond, cut shorter, then set in a perm that gave my hair body and curl. The makeup lady never said a word as she did my makeup. I could not see myself, and really, didn't want to, until she was done. I could see Mom, and she looked spectacular. I could only hope.

When I was turned to the mirror, I saw a girl I had never seen before! Big brown doe eyes, auburn hair that caressed her ears, wavy all over, feminine, and pert, sexy and easy to take care of. My makeup was flawless, my eyebrows arching a bit higher, thinner, the perfect enhancement to my eyes. She had outlined them in a soft black, using tan, gray and light green eyeshadow, my lips, outlined with a pencil, were now a chaste red, almost a pink. I was speechless. Mom smiled at me, then we went into the booths and changed clothes. She paid the bill, and we went home, my spirits high, my ideal girl had come to life. As we left the salon, I felt as if I had been transformed into the girl I always knew I had inside, and every other attempt was a mere prelude to this moment, an awakening and a realization of what I had dreamed of. Mom and each felt good about ourselves, and we showed it.

By the time we got home, I was ready to meet Mrs. Grant's Grandson, without fear or dread. I was a girl, and I knew it. I wanted to change right away, but Mom said we should have a snack first, so I had to wait just a bit longer. After that, I quickly undressed, and began to change for the party, starting with the blue satin panties. Then the padded pantybrief, pantyhose, the waist nipper of course, and finally, the pale blue bra, securing the clasp in the front. I used the breast enhancers like Mom showed me, then manipulated my breasts to maximum advantage. I didn't have to fuss with my hair, or do my makeup, so I slipped the dress over my head and without Mom, managed to zip it up by myself. I stepped into the silver shoes, then slipped the chandelier earrings into my lobes. The necklace hung just above my breasts, the small stone centered just right on the thin chain. I dabbed the perfume on the places Mom showed me, and stood in front of the mirror. I was beside myself with joy, and felt like all of the dreams I had, and the hundreds of nights of those dreams had come true. I moved my things to the silver purse, then carefully walked to the familyroom and stood there, unwilling to sit down and wrinkle the dress.

When Mom walked in to join me she took my breath away. Stunning does not quite cover how she looked, and I was in awe of the way she seemed to carry her beauty. As if she was pretty, but took it for granted. I wish I felt that way.

"Ready sweetheart?"

I nodded my head yes, Mom called Sara and her Mom, then we left the house, the four of us driving to the party together. Sara looked real nice in a raspberry dress, while her Mom wore a white sheath dress. Sara and I traded glances without saying a word, but I saw her eyes widen when she saw me, and knew that she liked my hairstyle and makeup. We walked in together and were met by Mrs. Grant, who looked even better if that was possible. She wore a silver sheath dress that was knee high, with a scoop neckline and short sleeves. I hoped I would look as good as she did at her age! Beside her were two young men, Ken and James. Sara and I were introduced to them, then they had to leave until eight o'clock, when they could return. We were seated near the dance floor, with two other Mothers and their daughters. Unfortunately, both of them went to my school. Cheryl and Julie both knew Sara, who introduced me. I got smiles from both of them, and did my best to be the girl I was supposed to be.

There were some speakers of course, all talking about women's issues of course. Like the other girls at our table, I was bored to death, but had to remain in place. The dinner was served, and that's when the questions started. Julie and Cheryl both wanted to know if I would be at their school in the fall, I said I didn't know yet, then they wanted to know if Sara I would join them at a Jamboree of some kind, for girls only, the following Saturday. I declined, or tried to, but Mom said we would talk about it, and Sara didn't push it. Sara's Mom put her foot in it when she told everyone that I lived right next door, that Sara and were long time friends. That drew a few strange looks, but nothing was said. I however, was quivering in my chair, ready to bolt for the door if I had too, which is when Mom suggested that she and I use the ladies room.

"I saw you when Kelly mentioned that you have known Sara for years, but you might be just a girl that comes every summer! Don't take everything so literally Susan! For goodness sake, just look at you! You're beautiful, and what's more, you're a wonderful daughter. I don't think I could have asked for a daughter any different that you are. I'm very proud of you. Just relax, and wing it if you have to. They don't have a clue, and you know it. Besides, I saw the way that boy James looked at you when he met you."

"I'm not dancing with him Mom, no matter what!"

"Whatever you say dear, just relax and enjoy it."

We touched up our lipstick, then rejoined our table mates just as the men were let in. Sara saw them first, and we watched them as they toured the room with their eyes, looking for us, then Ken saw us and pointed. As they walked across the floor, Mom was asked to dance by a tall guy in a gray suit, and she accepted, leaving me alone. James sat next to me, Ken asked Sara to dance, then both Julie and Cheryl left to talk to other friends. It was down to James and I, and two Mothers, but they got up, and we were alone.

"Grandma said she told you Ken and I would be here."

"Um…she mentioned it I guess."

"Want to dance?"

I never got the word out of my mouth. He took my hand in his, rose, then stood waiting for me. Rather than make a scene, I accepted his offer, and soon found myself out on the dance floor as he and I both struggled to not step on each others toes. He was very nice, taller than I was, even in heels, about seven months older than I. It didn't take long for us to figure out the rhythm, and managed to get around the dance floor reasonably well. We took a break, walking out to the drink buffet set up on the patio. I saw Mom, hand in hand with the guy she was dancing with, then saw him kiss her, and she did not pull away. For some reason, I was glad for her. It was a wonderful evening, then James asked me if he could take me home! I looked over and saw Mom giggling at the guy she was with, and knew that she would not miss me, but having a boy take me home meant only one thing. I would have to kiss him. Just then, Sara and Ken walked up, and after a quick discussion with my Mom and her parents, it was agreed that the boys could take us home.

"Susan, you have a key to the house, so I want you to change, take a nightgown, and stay at Sara's tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

Sara and I traded looks, smiled, and said yes. Ken drove, James and I sat in the backseat, with one arm around my shoulders, the other holding my hand. When he pulled in my driveway, Ken took Sara in his arms and kissed her, then it went dark as James loomed over me, and his lips touched mine. He did not pull away, and he kissed me once again before I gained my senses, opened the door, thanked him, and got out. Sara and I ran into my house, then up to my room. I was breathless at the thought of what I had done, but Sara didn't even bat an eye. She merely unzipped my dress, then watched as I put on a skirt and blouse, changed into my gym shoes, grabbed a nightgown, and jammed my foundation into my purse. Then we went to her house, and I watched as she undressed. Without and pause, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, and I saw a real breast, attached to a girl my own age. Strangely, it did not attack my maleness. Instead, I also undressed, and let my own bra hit the floor. As Sara and I stared at each other, we both began to giggle, then we both put on our nightgowns and went to the familyroom to watch late night television.

"That guy James was watching you all night girl! He likes you."

"And why not? After all, I was the prettiest girl there."

"Sure…you were pretty, and to be honest, when I saw you this afternoon, I almost didn't recognize you! For a boy, you are a very pretty girl. Pretty enough to be asked to join that outfit Julie and Cheryl are in. Besides that, I see that those boobs of yours are mighty fine, for a boy that is."

"Your just jealous."

"Right."

We heard her parents come in, and after a bit, we were told to go to bed. I slept in her brothers old room. In the morning, I got dressed, and joined Sara's mother in the kitchen. We were the only ones up so far.

"You looked very nice last night Susan."

"Thank you Ma'am."

She made coffee, poured us each a cup, then joined me at the table.

"I made a mistake last night dear, and I am sorry about that."

"Mom said that I could be an old family friend, and not to worry about it, so I didn't."

She stared at me, then with a slump of her shoulders, she smiled at me, took my hand in hers and squeezed it.

"You're welcome here any time Susan. You've always been a fine person, and I don’t see that what you wear changes that. You and Sara have always been close friends, but now, well, you two will begin to share many other things, things that only girls share. When your Mother told me, I was concerned of course, for you and Sara, but after I saw you, I knew that nothing but the clothing had changed."

Just then Sara walked in, went straight for the fridge, and poured out some orange juice.

Mom did not get home until almost noon, and by then, Sara and I were in her room, gleefully trying on clothes, making up outfits as we went along. I went home when Mom called, we had a bit of lunch, and she asked me how I liked the party.

"It was okay, except for those speeches. I thought I would fall asleep."

"Susan, that man I was with? He is an old friend of mine. His name is Greg. He and I…well, we have been seeing each other once in a while, and he wants to take our relationship further. I think he wants to get married."

"But that means that I'll…"

"Stay as you are. He has never met my son, but he has seen my daughter, you, and I can hardly tell him the truth, at least right now, can I?"

"But he'll find out! I mean, how can I go to school this way?!"

I was right on the edge of breaking, my carefully crafted world of Susan showing the cracks of strain, and I could not see a way out. I felt the tear s falling on my cheeks, and was ashamed of them, yet she had promised me the summer, now I saw that falling apart. Having a stepfather was one thing, having him know that his daughter was a boy, something totally different.

"SUSAN!"

I looked up as Mom took my hands in hers.

"Greg thinks I have a daughter, and that is exactly what he will have if we get married. No matter what, you and I know the truth. You cannot return to being a boy. It would be agony for you, and torture for me to watch you so sad, which only means that all we have to do is turn you into a real girl."

"How? I mean…"

"There are ways, and I know someone that can help us, but only you can give the word Susan. If you say no, then your time as a girl might be limited, but if you say yes, then there will be no going back. You will become a girl from head to toe."

"Is this all because of this guy Greg?"

"Some I guess, but you are my only focus right now. You want to be a girl, you always have, and there is no way I am going to stop it, so I'm not even going to try. What I will do is ask my friend to see you, and if he agrees, we will do whatever else is necessary for you to become a girl, and be able to do anything any other girl your age would do. Greg is important to me, I won't try to lie about that. He is a good man, and will be a good father and husband to us, but first, we have to get you into see my friend…okay?"

"A real girl?"

"A real girl."

"Okay!"

What I thought would happen is not what did happen. In my naiveté, I had a mental picture of him waving a wand at me and turning me into a girl, or some magic pill that would do it. But all he did was talk! Did I like boys? How did it feel when James kissed me? Do I resent men? All sorts of questions, and it went on for three days! He often asked me the same question a different way, but I caught him at it, and he merely smiled at me. He recommended the treatment, which I thought he would do, but I was taken to see another doctor, a woman this time. She looked about my age, but she was very sharp, and realized how excited I was. Then she broke my bubble.

"I can make you look like a girl of course, but you will not function as one. By that, I mean no periods, and no vaginal sex, which you're too young for anyway. You will be taking medication that will allow you to develop breasts of your own and a widening of the hips and a rounding of your bottom, plus a general softening of your skin and loss of body hair. In the mean time, I am going to implant some small breastforms under your skin so that you can present yourself as a girl easier. As your own breasts start to develop, I will take them out. As far as your manhood goes, I will invert it so that it will seem that you have a vagina. You will have to maintain your body as any female does, and when you become of age, I will finish the job, which is when you will be a real girl. Any questions?"

"Yes Ma'am. When can we get started?"

It took almost five hours, and I walked out of there bowlegged, sore and very happy. It was two days before I had the chance to see what she had done. My breasts were bigger than before, had better shape, and were very sensitive. Mom removed the bandages in my groin, and using a mirror I saw my new self for the first time. I looked like Sara, right down to the thin hair that surrounded the thin slit and swelling lips of my new vagina. I popped my first pill, then got dressed. I had to wear a tighter bra, just to keep me from bouncing around, but I felt great, and could hardly wait to show Sara, but Mom said to wait until I was completely healed up. I saw Sara every day, and it was all I could do to hold it in, then, one day Mom said it was okay, so I set my new swimsuit on the bed, and bounded across the yard to get Sara. I asked her to grab her suit and bring it, so we could use the pool later. Of course, she did just that.

Once she was at my house, I grabbed by the hand, went to my room, and began to undress. I was quick, and stood there in my altogether, smiling at her as my brand new boobs pointed straight at her, my manhood gone. One look was all it took, and she let out a squeal.

"Susan! You're a girl! A real girl! How did you do that?"

"A magic pill."

"Right."

She stripped naked, and for the first time I saw all of her in the flesh, not in a dream. We slipped on our suits, and headed for the pool, diving in as soon as we reached the edge. We had a wonderful time that day as we became more like sisters than neighbors, which continues, even after we both got married. Mom married Greg, and he was a great father. That fall I entered the school as Susan without a hitch of any kind. Mrs. Grant, a frequent visitor to our house, encouraged me in my writing, which I did, and to this day she is a good friend, like a grandmother that I never had. I do not know if she knows the truth, but does it matter? I am a girl now, and that is all I ever wanted. James comes over once in a while, but there is someone else now. A friend from my past life. The crucible that made me what I am so far is still working, but it's teaching me to be a woman, and not a girl.

 

 

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