Herbs, Roots and Berries                   by: Rachel Ann Cooper     © 1998

 

My Mom, bless her, is a real health nut. Been on this kick for all of my 18 years as far as I know. Whatever it is, she has a cure. Well, for most things that is. She couldn’t prevent my Dad from smoking three packs a day and dying at age 50 and right on St. Patrick’s Day too. Even though he had left us a half million in insurance, now Mom needed me more than ever and I just didn’t know what I could do except maybe stick around, you know, be there for her when she needed me.

She knew the effects of stress on the body and at once put us on a new anti stress regimen to cope with Dad’s passing, St. John’s Wort and some other stuff, little enteric coated pills. The highest stress there is, is losing a spouse or a parent in my case. She did warn me that there may be some side effects to these herbs and so forth but not to concern myself and so I didn’t. She had me taking a couple of these yellow pills morning, noon and night and she had a capping machine that she used to make up the herbals. I don’t know how much it really reduced my stress but it did mellow me out in some ways I wouldn’t have expected. I’d expected that they’d maybe pep me up but instead, I was beginning to see things Mom’s way and just hung out with her. Maybe this was one of the side effects, just feeling closer to Mom. If it was, I liked it. We had not been all that close before as I had always identified with dad except for his smoking, which both he and mom warned me away from.

So, outside of my nowhere job as a temp for Kelly Services, a pretty steady job actually, I decided to spend a little more time at home, at least until she got back on her feet and the shock of losing Dad wore off to a tolerable level. I still heard her crying a lot in her room at night. At the moment they had me doing data entry for a local manufacturer. I liked working for Kelly. They didn’t have a very strict dress code, just keep things neat and clean basically.

I guess that was a good thing for me since it had been, oh, maybe six months since my last haircut. I fancied the way Adrian Paul kept his hair on the Highlander series but I was at least 3 inches past that already and Mom was starting to complain about it being dirty and stringy looking. I wanted to get it cut back some but she wasn’t buying it. "Whatever you do, honey, please don’t cut your beautiful hair." Well, it’s a mom thing I guess and so I promised to take better care of it and went up to the bathroom and gave it a good double wash and conditioning for a change. It took me every bit of an hour and then another 10 minutes of blow drying.

Huh! I’d forgotten how nice it could look when it was clean. It was awfully, I don’t know...fluffy all of a sudden and bouncy but Mom actually gushed when she saw how nice it looked but it definitely needed some trimming so I made an appointment at Fantastic Sam’s.

I always used the same operator, Trina. Mom had met her a couple times and they got along well. I’d planned to have a fairly short cut but Trina bathed and conditioned again and cut and when it was over, I’d only lost about an inch and came out with a body perm and a little lightening rinse. It was beautiful but it was awfully feminine, I thought, especially since she parted it in the middle and cut wispy bangs into it. "What was that all about," I asked? "Oh, your Mom called and gave me strict instructions not to waste your pretty hair on the floor of the shop, just a trim, she said." "And what about all the other stuff, the facial and the manicure with the clear polish?" "Your Mom suggested that too." "Oh, she did, did she. Hmm! Thanks Trina. It did feel good, I’ll admit."

It was May now and I swear my hair was growing at least an inch a month. It was going to be getting warm and I had looked forward to a little shorter hair but I didn’t want to disappoint Mom. It was a real bother taking care of it with washing, brushing, conditioning and Mom loved it when I let it frame my face but I liked to just tie it up in a rubber band in a pony tail to keep cool. I knew Mom didn’t like that so I went and got some of those scrunchy things that girls wear and that placated her some, especially if I wore it at my crown like a girl instead of down at my collar. For one thing, it was cooler that way and I really did like the way it swayed back and forth, brushing against my neck. It felt kind of...I don’t know...sexy, and it tickled.

"Okay Mom. What’s with not wanting my hair cut anyway." "Oh Dana, it just looks so nice when you keep it clean and styled a little. Will you just humor me and take care of it. I know it takes time, but it’s really worth it." "Okay Mom. I’ll take care of it. I do kind of like brushing it at night. It sort of calms me down and it’s something I really don’t have to think about when we’re watching TV." I wore it in a pony tail most of the time but Trina had it styled into kind of a long page boy with bangs swept off to the right. It looked OK I guess. It looked a little like the do Prince Valiant used to wear if you can remember that comic strip in the papers. Of course, it also looked a bit like Veronica Lake in the old Bogart movies too as it grew longer.

When I let it fall around my face though, I was forever having to brush it aside and got into just raising a finger or two to do it or just tossing my head the way I’d seen so many long haired girls do. It seemed like an awfully feminine gesture but I guess I’d just have to make my peace with it since my hair seemed to mean so much to Mom.

Mom thought that was cute. Coquettish, she called it, whatever that meant. I’d never heard the word before. Mom knew what Trina did to me at the salon and she went out and got me a big bag of those huge rollers to put in my hair after a wash. I didn’t even have the heart to argue with her. I just started setting my hair like Trina had. It felt really weird but it sure looked nice afterward especially when I back combed it a little for more body on top. The bushy eyebrows didn’t exactly go with the look though.

Lately, Mom had been trying to get me to go shopping with her, you know, like to the mall, not the grocery store. I had decided grocery shopping wasn’t that bad and had volunteered to do it but clothes shopping? Forget it! She’d been ragging on me lately about the condition of my underwear and I said, "well, if you can’t stand it, then get me some nice new ones."

Oh, she got me some nice new ones alright. Six pairs of the slinkiest, tightest hip riders you ever saw, and in colors too. And in stretch SATIN no less. I knew a lot of guys wore that kind of stuff now. Thank heaven they were just plain and nothing fancy. I wasn’t quite sure they were even men’s briefs but as good as they felt, I wasn’t sure I cared. They sure didn’t have a placket in them.

I should have known not to leave that door wide open. The bag said Frederick’s of Hollywood on it. I’d forgotten that store was even there in that mall, it had been so long since one of my girl friends had dragged me in there. Well, at least I could still get at myself to pee, so I just let it go and enjoyed the exotic smoothness next to my skin. She also brought home a couple boxes from store called Chandler’s. It was two pairs of shoes, a kind of moccasin slip on with a little string tie on the vamp and a kind of low wedge heel. They were very comfortable and they made my feet look smaller. Whenever she bought me something, she always had to check on how I liked it and this time was no different.

"How do you like your new briefs honey?" "Pretty sexy Mom. I didn’t know you shopped in that store." "Oh, I get some of my things there honey. Women like to feel special underneath their clothing even if other people can’t see it." "If your stuff feels like this, I guess I can understand that. Thanks for making me feel special." "And the shoes?" "Really comfortable Mom. I like the way they make my feet look smaller too. Thanks." "You’re welcome honey."

Another thing she started bugging me about was keeping my hands nice.

Every time I washed my hands, she wanted me to squirt some hand lotion on and perish the thought if I should throw a new set of spark plugs in my car or change the oil. "Dana, she’s say, you work in an office. They expect you to be neat and clean. Some of that grime and grease sticks under your finger nails for a week at a time. The quick lube can do it faster and almost as cheap. Let them do it from now on and keep your hands nice for the office please. Do it for me honey, OK?"

"Alright Mom." My hands were getting really nice and soft though and that felt good and I wasn’t snagging my briefs when I put them on anymore. Mr. Trent, the district manager even commented on how soft they were the last time we shook hands.

Boy, she was sure getting particular about how I took care of myself. Well, Dad sure wasn’t careful. I suppose she was just trying to protect me. I think she’s trying to turn me into a neat freak. I always have to look like I just stepped out of a band box lately, really clean and shiny. She even makes me wear an apron in the kitchen now, not that I cook much except eggs and toast but still she seems to want me powder fresh all the time.

I have been helping her around the house lately as it doesn’t really seem fair that I should lay around, but she still doesn’t want me getting into anything that might break a nail or get me dirty. My nails have been looking a lot nicer lately, especially since Mom has been giving me something to make them stronger and Trina has been seeing to them too. I’m letting them grow a little longer than I used to now that I don’t have to be so concerned about breaking them all the time fixing stuff around the house or the cars and I can still type pretty fast.

Since I had spoiled most of my nice shirts with either food stains or grease, Mom found me some new white ones on sale. She said they were a real bargain. Well, they may have been a bargain but they buttoned the wrong way. She got me six of them in different styles of collar and neckline, all white or soft pastels. When I saw them I said, MOM, these aren’t shirts. They look like blouses!" "I know honey but they were really a great buy and you’ll look so nice in them. Why don’t you try on that light green one with the little pads in the shoulders?" "OK." Two of them felt really nice on if I skipped the undershirt, and one of them was really pretty. Gee, I never thought I’d wear something I thought was ‘pretty’ and like it. I think three of them were pure silk. Janice, one of the girls I work with complimented me on my new ‘shirt’ remarking on how pretty it was and how well it fit. I blushed but I managed to thank her just the same. Janice had been saying some rather strange things to me lately, almost like we were girlfriends or something, really chatting me up, and she was terribly observant too. Didn’t miss a lick.

Well, I’ve got to admit that the people I work with seem to appreciate the lack of grease under my nails and my nice full, clean head of hair. My nails are getting to be pretty nice looking since Mom has been having me drink that gelatin stuff and taking those pills and giving me manicures. One night she just brought out her nail kit, sat down in front of me and started giving me a manicure. She wanted to do my feet too but I wasn’t quite ready for that. She did have a lot of pretty colors though. Why did I even think about the colors? Naw. That’s silly. Men don’t wear colors. Clear maybe. Colors, no.

She’s started using hardeners and conditioners and ‘hard as nails’ on them. Well, it makes her happy but she does tend to make my hands looks rather feminine the way she shapes my nails and keeps them a little longer each time she does them it seems. A couple of the girls at work have complimented me lately on my ‘pretty’ hands and how I use them. I’m not quite sure what that means but I’m always grateful for compliments. I never gave any thought to how I "use" my hands.

I’m still pretty fast on the keyboard though and that’s what counts so I just let her have her fun and if the girls think I have ‘pretty’ hands, so be it. The last week of June though, she talked me into letting her do my feet too and she just went berserk and gave me a totally feminine pedicure with deep rose colored polish and everything. I just knew when she started she was going all the way. Funny, I didn’t seem to mind all that much by then. I should have thrown a fit.

Instead, I even agreed when she asked if they looked pretty. Strange! I actually liked it. It made my feet look...dainty somehow. After she was done, I put on my new textured knee high socks she had gotten me and a pair of new wedge heeled shoes. I rather thought it was a shame that I couldn’t show off my pretty toenails and mentioned it to Mom.

She just smiled and went up to her room and returned with another shoe box. On opening it I found a lovely pair of open toed mid heeled sandals and immediately took off my shoes and socks and tried them on. Very pretty. "Thanks Mom. What would I do without you. You think of everything." Again, she just smiled. Gawd. My feet looked just like hers now. They were pretty sandals...GIRL’S sandals and I couldn’t help liking how they looked or wanting to wear them even with their two inch heels. I really wanted to wear them to WORK.

It was getting near the end of summer when she made another little addition to my underwear collection. Sexy is the only word I can think of to describe what I saw in my drawer and they had the Frederick’s label in them again and there must have been a dozen in different colors, this time in a full hip style. Well, as I picked up a pair, they certainly felt very exotic, maybe even erotic, like satin spandex, very sensual. The way they felt made me a little excited at the prospect of wearing them.

So, I tried on a pair and not only did they fit great, they also almost did away with my appendages, they were so tight, but they felt really neat and definitely sensual. I decided that my first impulse to shove them in the back of the drawer wasn’t the right way to go and began to wear them every day. Of course, this brought on other problems immediately.

My only real problem with them was the inch of stretch lace at the waist and the leg openings. These weren’t briefs. They didn’t have a fly. These were women’s panties, plain and simple. They felt so grand though, I couldn’t resist wearing them just the same, even though I now had to sit down to pee all the time. I got used to it fairly fast. After a few days, Mom asked me how I liked the new briefs. "Oh, I love them Mom. They’re awfully sexy though, don’t you think?"

"Nothing’s to good for my baby," she said. "These seem more like girl’s panties than men’s briefs Mom." "Well, yes they are honey, but I couldn’t help noticing how much you liked the other ones. You do like them don’t you?" "Yes, they’re wonderful against my skin. Thanks." "Then enjoy them honey. We’re the only ones who know." "I wouldn’t be too sure of that Mom. Janice is awfully sharp. She makes observations about every little thing she notices about me lately and I’ll bet these new panties show right through my slacks." "Don’t worry honey. She’s probably just jealous." "Of ME?" "Sure. Why not?"

 

After a few months:

"Mom, you’ve been really good to me but I’m having a little problem."

"What’s that honey?" "My undershirts and for that matter, my pajamas are really chafing my skin lately, especially my...uh...chest. My skin seems awfully soft and tender. Is there anything you can do, put in the wash, a softener or something?" "I think I might have a more pleasant solution dear. You like your new panties. There are things you can wear to ease that situation and of course there are creams and lotions for your skin. Let me work on it"

"Well, that’s not my only problem. My slacks and jeans seem to be a problem lately too."

"I’m having a hard time getting them up over my hips. Am I putting on weight?" "Oh, I don’t think so dear. Maybe it’s just moving around a little since you sit most of the day at work but I’ll get you some clothes that fit better next time I’m downtown, OK?" "Sure Mom and thanks." "And while I’m at it, I’ll stop by the doctor’s and see if he can give you something to pep you up a little."

Sure enough, Mom came home with a new prescription only this time it was a tiny vial and a package of ten syringes one of which she proceeded to fill with a cc of the clear fluid and pop into my rear after I dropped my panties. "There now. That should speed you up some, she said."(it took me quite a while to catch on to that little double entendre) "You’ll get nine more at one a week for the first round. By that time, everything should be just fine although we may continue them a bit longer for better results." "I sure hope they help Mom. Thanks." "Oh, they’ll help you feel better and more at ease honey, I’m sure, although you will see some side effects from this too. Don’t worry about them. It’s all perfectly normal."

About a week later, to this little surprise was added some very slinky silk undershirts with kind of spaghetti straps, she called them ‘camis’, whatever that means. I don’t know why I needed silk underwear, but Mom was buying and I was beginning to like the pampered feeling I got from wearing all these silky things. Sure beat the heck out of cotton. For certain, the chafing was gone and I really appreciated it and I really liked my new blouses too although I couldn’t help notice that my chest seemed to be poking out a little and the cami straps showed through my blouses. There had never been bumps there before but I was sure it was my nipples showing through my blouses. They were so light and filmy, they didn’t hide much even with a cami on underneath.

"Mom, I really like the slippers you got me so I can see my pretty toes but with my socks on, still can’t see them and I don’t like the feeling of sticking to my slippers. Could you maybe get me some of those sheer knee high hose? I think that would solve my problem." "Of course dear. In the meantime, here, use a pair of mine. I dropped my slacks and rolled them up. "There now, is that better?" "Oh yes, thanks."

She also got me a satin sleep shirt, another gift I was most grateful for. That stopped the chafing from my pajamas. It really felt wonderful to be wrapped in such silky luxury although I wasn’t so sure about the lace around the low scooped neckline nor just above my ankles. It was pretty though. She got me some satiny slides to go with it. I think they had almost 3" heels but I soon learned to manage.

The only problem with the slippers was that they made me walk like a girl, gliding instead of striding. I just couldn’t take a very big step in them and had to swivel my hips a little in order to walk more naturally. And I CERTAINLY wasn’t too sure of what to make of the twin peaks that impertinently protruded in the front of my nightie either. Jeeze. I was sure beginning to look more and more like a girl in everything I wore. I couldn’t help reaching up with both hands and cupping them. Not much there yet but they sure looked and felt like the beginnings of breasts to me.

And I had the strangest urge the other day while I was in the bathtub. I was just sitting there enjoying the bubbles and pushing back my cuticles with an orange stick with my shampooed hair piled high on my head when I was overwhelmed with the NEED to take Mom’s razor and shave my legs and underarms. Then I took her little mirror and tweezers and plucked some lower eyebrows out. I liked the way that made my eyes look bigger and I never did think my new hairstyle looked good with those bushy eyebrows. Looking down at my pubescent bosom, I noticed that most of the hair, such as it was, that was growing there had just fallen out. Amazing!

And after I got out, I put lotion on my legs. They felt so wonderfully smooth and silky. The feeling of them got me a little excited but all that happened was my nipples got really hard and I reached up with both hands and felt myself up while I was still wet for heaven’s sake and it felt really nice. It gave me the strangest feeling in my groin. I can ‘t even describe it, like a series of little twitches. I didn’t even think to reach down there like I used to. It was rather pleasant but certainly nothing like I was expecting. Funny, I really hadn’t had the need to masturbate lately. It just didn’t seem all that important somehow.

Another strange urge I’d had lately was to really take some more of the housekeeping burden off of Mom. She didn’t have to, but she worked hard enough, so I began doing more of the cleaning and laundry and even learned how to iron our skirts and blouses, well, her skirts and my blouses. I was always careful to wear an apron and to take care of my hands so I wouldn’t break a nail. I even tried my hand at preparing dinner for us one night, fried chicken and dumplings. I made a mess but it wasn’t bad and Mom encouraged me to keep trying as she said learning to cook and keep house might be skills I’d appreciate having some day. Well, even bachelors have to keep house and I was keeping up on the latest techniques in Mom’s Ladies Home Journal and Cosmo. I learned a lot about women’s fashions and hair there too. Some of the setting patterns didn’t look too difficult and I tried a few with varying results. Mom always seemed to like them though no matter how they turned out.

Since it was now early fall, I had to admit that silk was a lot warmer than cotton and felt a whole lot nicer. The jeans and slacks she got me were a perfect fit if not just a little long. Well, if I wore my high heeled slippers or sandals they were just right but I couldn’t very well wear them outside. I no longer had a problem getting my jeans and slacks up over my bottom and they made my tush look fantastic. Janice was quick to notice that too and said so. I’m afraid my gait had taken on a bit of a swivel from walking in my new slippers, and Janice complimented me on that too. (Sigh)

The other girls at work appreciated my new slacks too. I was a little put off by one pair though. They had a side zipper and were definitely girl’s slacks but they were nice and warm and had a lined fanny. "Mom, this side zipper is really a pain. I don’t mind sitting to pee anymore but a back zipper would be more convenient and I could still have a pocket over there." "I’m sorry honey but they were your new size and they were on sale. It’s not that much of a bother is it?" "Oh, I guess not Mom. If girls do it, I guess I can too." "That’s my baby. We always need to look for bargains. Your Dad’s insurance money won’t last forever. I’ll look for some with back zippers."

"Listen, why don’t you and I go shopping some day after work honey?" I was never one for shopping like I know my Mom shops, like all women shop, but lately, I had found myself browsing store windows, even lingerie shops and shoe stores and lord help me, even wondered what a couple of those lacy, sexy things would look like on me. I WAS covered in silks and nylon all the time after all. And the shoes. Well, the feelings I was having about them was downright indecent, a boy coveting pretty street pumps even though I was admittedly wearing high heeled slippers at home. The very idea sent goose bumps up my spine though when I thought of wearing them in public. "Sure Mom, but let’s make it Saturday, alright? We can take our time then." "Good idea honey."

I didn’t have too many guy pals in my line of work and the ones I did have tended to be a little rebellious like me with my now very long hair down to my shoulder blades. Not too many guys worked for Kelly. It was mostly girls. Paul was over for breakfast one day and Mom noticed that he had two dangle earrings like Sinbad on late night TV and really flaunted them. She even complimented him on them. After he left she put it to me, "Dana, I think you would look really nice with your pretty hair and some nice earrings. I’m buying" "I don’t think so Ma." "Oh come on. Afraid of what the girls at work will say or maybe of the little sting as they’re punched?" "No mom. I’m not afraid of anything. We can do it Saturday at the mall, OK? I said with some bravado or should I say bravada. She baited me and I swallowed it. I think I secretly wanted the earrings but was too afraid to do it without Mom’s taunting and approval.

And so I got punched out twice, not once but twice in each ear with little gold studs in the tops and ¾" gold hoops in the bottoms at her insistence. "What were you thinking Mom? Weren’t two enough? And wouldn’t smaller hoops worked just as well? And that girl at the booth, "what lovely hair your daughter has" and you didn’t say a word." "Well, you’ll probably decide you want doubles anyway. All the girls are wearing them these days. You can always let a set heal up later and what good would it have done to insist that you were a boy? Every stitch you’re wearing is girl’s clothing, even your wedge heeled moccasins and you love it." "Yeah. That’s true enough. I don’t understand myself lately. But like they say, ‘if it feels good, do it!"

I now had to see Trina every week for styling and she and the other operators seemed genuinely appreciative of my crowning glory. Trina had set it with sweeping bangs and it framed my face nicely when I didn’t have it in a pony tail or a French braid. The problem I had with her was that she always insisted on drying it on rollers ‘to give it more body’ she’d say. Lately though, the rollers were getting smaller and the result was curly and softer. I guess that was why Mom got me the rollers. I’ll bet she talked to Trina. Yeah, right.

I know a girl’s hair style when I see one and I saw one every time I looked in a mirror lately. I had begun wearing it more down and framing my face after I got the earrings hoping to hide them but everyone at work noticed the earrings peeking out anyway and wearing my hair down made me look even more like a girl, so I started wearing it up sometimes too in a braid or a pony tail at my crown like the girls. The manicurist was just DYING to get my hands in her lap for a complete manicure and I just know she’d finish it up with some really vivid colored polish. There was no hiding the fact that they were looking at me as just another girl judging by the banter that went on while I was in the chair and under the dryers. Since I’d been reading up on the same stuff they did, I just joined in and talked girl talk with them. I was enjoying the camaraderie. It was fun and they were surprised at how much I knew about fashion and things. So was I!

Mom had taught me how to do a French and Hairdini braid and lately she was wanting me to put it up in hot rollers before work to give it more body like Trina did. I liked it, although it did show off all my earrings and made me look awfully feminine. My nails were now quite long and very pretty I thought, and once in a while Mom would put a colored polish on them over the weekend. It did make them look lovely and made my hands look ever so feminine. You’d think I would have complained when she did this.

I don’t know why, but I was really beginning to enjoy these little things like polished nails and beautiful hair. I had begun to actually take pride in them. Of course when I was doing housework I wore gloves so I wouldn’t mess up my manicure, especially if I had color on, which was almost every night lately and most weekends. I really loved the way it showed off my hands and Mom seemed to love this feminine side of me and I really wanted to make her happy so I kept it up. She had early on told me how to use my hands, just as though I always had wet nail polish on them. Now I know what "I like the way you use your hands" meant. Even when I only had clear on them, I was using them like a girl for heaven’s sake. I was wearing my open toed sandals with my jeans a lot more lately and I’d even become bold enough to wear them out to the grocery. . I thought it was pretty sexy. I did attract a little attention...from boys.

There was no longer any doubt. We have a full length mirror on the inside and outside of the bathroom door and my body was taking on some new, very sexy contours. The extra flesh on my chest was rapidly becoming a real bosom and my hips were fleshing out. My thighs were filling in and it didn’t take anything at all to hide my maleness anymore. No wonder I had such a time with my old jeans and slacks. I was getting a real bubble butt. On went the panties and there, even naked, stood a girl, or a very good imitation of one. If I’d put on a little makeup, poof, boy Dana would be history. I guess this was what Mom meant by ‘side effects.’ Well, she had said not to worry about them and apparently, I wasn’t. The fact was, I was rather enjoying what was happening. It felt right. I just couldn’t help it anyway.

Mom was really becoming complimentary about my body language and how I used my hands like they always had wet polish on them. I swear I was beginning to swish so much it was no wonder people thought I was a girl. Funny! I took stock of my walk one day and sure enough, I was definitely walking like a girl a girl who took particular delight in being emphatically feminine. I guess it must be all the time I’m spending in those high heeled slippers. They never once alluded to me being a guy in drag. I always removed the polish before work and then put a couple coats of hardener back on so I wouldn’t break them. I really didn’t want to disappoint Mom. We were getting along so well lately and we were really becoming quite close, just as she had hoped. I confess lately I have been feeling more like her daughter than her son and it’s not an unpleasant feeling at all. I love being able to share things with her. We never talked like this before when Dad was alive.

I made one other little adjustment in my deportment for Mom’s sake after my last session in front of the mirror. The idea of wearing a little makeup must have stuck in my head. I went into Walmart and got myself several lipsticks and some blusher that I thought might look nice on me and a mascara and one day when Mom got home, there I was with a pretty rose colored mouth and some blusher and darker lashes to go along with everything else that seemed to be turning feminine on me. "Darling, that’s lovely on you. What else did you get?" "Just a few other shades and a blush Mom." "Well, it certainly does look nice on you. Please continue to wear it. You’ll love how soft it makes your lips and how it keeps them moisturized." "OK Mom. No problem."

" I think I like it too but I think your son is fading fast. I’ve been feeling awfully feminine lately and I think I’m acting like a girl too." "Well, of course I’ve noticed that dear but don’t worry. You’re still my baby no matter what flavor you are" and we both giggled. My voice! It seems to be higher, more melodic, lilting. Maybe it was just how I was using it. Wow! I found out that some lipsticks stain more than others and the brand I bought had a pretty darned good stain in it. As a result, even though I wiped it and washed it, my lips were now permanently a definite shade they had never been before. Janice didn’t miss that one at work the next day either. She just winked at me while staring at my lips and said nothing though.

Winter was fast on us as December came rushing in and I had to wait for a bus down on the corner. Sears had sold out early on their thermal underwear and so Mom suggested that she knew a way I could stay reasonably warm while I waited on those chilly mornings. The next night when I got home, there was a package about six inches deep on my dining room chair. "What’s this Mom?" "Something to keep you warm honey. Always worked for me." Inside I found six pairs of heavy duty ladies nylon tights and six pairs of Leggs pantyhose. "Mom!"

"Don’t Mom me. Those are quite warm and nobody will even know you have them on." "Oh yes they will. They’ll see my patterned ankles." "Well, that’s a small price to pay for staying warm on a cold day, isn’t it? You’ve got a lovely figure honey. Flaunt it." "MOM! Boys aren’t supposed to have ‘figures’." "Maybe not honey, but you’ve got one. And you really should think about just wearing your real girl clothes to work instead of just around here and out shopping. You ARE a lovely girl when you want to be, you know." Rather meekly and with a definite tone of resignation in my voice I said, "I know, Mom. I know. Side effects huh?" "Yes, honey. Like I said. Just minor side effects."

She had a point, especially since I began wearing lipstick. "Okay. I’ll wear them, the hose I mean, not all my other stuff." "Thank you dear. I noticed that when I went to try on a pair of the hose that I had developed a little tummy. Not like around my middle; a tummy, like a girl; a little pudge between the hips. My waist was at least as slim as ever if not more so. That was another mystery. I must have put on a good 10 or 12 pounds and all of it was going to my butt and my chest and I looked so...soft. My muscles were just sort of dissolving right before my eyes.

I was really glad I had those silky camis but I was finding myself in a somewhat constant state of arousal, not just in my panties, but in my nipples as they rubbed against the silky fabric of my camisoles. That night Mom gave me another manicure and as she sometimes did, put a color coat on. It was a very light shade of rose frost and after it dried, she proceeded to cover it with a sealer coat. "Mom, I have to take that off in the morning." "Oh honey, don’t be silly. You wear it around here all week long and I’m sure there won’t be a single negative comment at work or anywhere else. You know very well most people who don’t know you think you are a girl now anyway."

"(sigh) Yes, I know, and somehow I don’t even care anymore. I don’t even think I care about being a male anymore!" "Well then darling, wear the polish and show off your pretty hands." "Janice is just going to LOVE this one" I replied sarcastically. " She’s been egging me on...wants me to show up for work in a skirt and heels. She teases me something awful." "Does she really upset you dear?"

"No. Not really. I see her point and I’m half tempted to call her bluff! I know I could handle the heels." "Well honey, next time we are shopping, we should look at some skirts and heels to go with your pretty blouses." "Ok Mom. I guess it’s just a logical progression after all. I don’t understand why this stuff hasn’t had an effect on you too." "Well, actually, it has hon. My bosom is fuller too." "Oh. And here I thought I was alone.(giggle)

Yes, I found out what the camisoles really were. As I said, I had for some reason, taken to reading fashion magazines while at the salon as well as home and I couldn’t avoid all that girl oriented stuff when I was watching my soaps. Apparently, I was taking all of it in like a sponge and I couldn’t avoid looking at all those gorgeous guys in the ads either. Oh boy. Now I’m actually looking at MEN, I mean like a girl looks at men. Oh, I am in trouble here, I just know it!

Here it was almost Christmas and since Dad had died in March, Mom had somehow managed to bring me closer to her and I found myself wearing girls panties, pantyhose, tights, and camisoles, blouses instead of shirts, women’s slacks and jeans and women’s casual shoes; styling my hair and wearing two studs and two dangle earrings which thankfully were mostly covered my luxurious mane and my hands and feet had taken on the appearance of a woman’s; I was wearing high heeled slippers around the house and I just seemed to be taking all this in a little bit at a time with no protest at all. And on top of that I had just agreed to go look at skirts and pumps. I may as well get a few dresses while I’m at it. There isn’t any doubt in my mind anymore. I am definitely turning into a girl, lock stock and barrel. It all feels rather...comfortable though. Boy, how weird can I get?

I left my toenails polished all the time and now I was wearing color on my fingernails all the time and it was getting darker. Mom was right. There was no reaction at all when I showed up with the light rose polish so I escalated to deeper shades that looked even prettier. In fact, Friday after work, I had stopped by the mall and picked up a couple bracelets, a cute pinkie ring and a delicate chain with a crystal pendant and wore them all home and began wearing them to work too. I think I was driving Janice crazy ever since I began wearing lipstick and it showed the next day, every day. Now the jewelry and the nail polish. She seemed on pins and needles to see what would happen next. I wondered that myself!

When this first started, I was still a rutting male, rather regular in my self-gratification and always on the lookout for the stray chick. Last week, Mom and I went shopping together, never a thrill for me before, but this time was different. This time I was not just a bored bystander but a willing participant. She bought me some more blouses on sale in various colors and styles and some panties and in a weak moment, I let her talk me into going into a shoe store and getting a few pairs of decidedly feminine shoes including two pairs of darling 3" high heeled opera pumps, one pair in black and the other in toupe leather.. Me, Dana Williams in real, for the street, high heels. I’ll tell you the experience gave me a double erection in my cami. It’s a good thing I was still clinging to bulky sweaters. Funny. Nothing much happened in my panties though except that sort of neat little twitching feeling. I really don’t think I can get that thing to stand up anymore. Well, all the better. I don’t want to ruin the line of my slacks or my new skirts.

Oh yes, we did find some skirts I liked; one full and mid calf; one A line and one just above the knee and rather form fitting that made me take smaller steps. That one really showed off my cute tush. Even Mom said so. "Mom?" "Yes honey?" "I just bought three skirts and high heels. I think the die is cast. Can we go look at some pretty dresses?" "Why, of course sweetheart." I came home with three of those too and they really looked nice on my new ‘figure’. I had just fallen over the edge and didn’t seem the least upset about it anymore.

Another shopping Saturday came a few weeks later and Mom and I went to the mall and cruised the shops. I wore my A line skirt and a pair of mid heeled pumps along with my lipstick, blush, and brightly painted nails. My hair cascaded around my face in soft curls. I was actually enjoying myself and when we went in the lingerie shops, well, I just couldn’t keep my hands off some of the things. My ‘chest’ not only had been irritated, it was growing just like my bottom, a lot more than I had ever let on nor let Mom see, to the point that I really had something to fondle now, almost a handful, and the idea of actually wearing a daring, pretty bra just wouldn’t leave my mind. I had been practicing in my new heels and was really getting off on wearing them out in public, showing off my legs and pumps and the wiggle they imparted to my walk. I was out in public passing as a girl. Mom caught me in my reverie in the bra section. I was so embarrassed. "Do you like that one honey?"

"Well...uh...yes...but...and I trailed off into stutters." "Sweetheart, I know you’ve come to appreciate soft, pretty things and frankly, you could use that. In fact, you NEED it!" "But Mom..." "Here. You need a B cup by now Dana. I’m not blind. Go try it on and see if you like it and how it fits." "In the ladies try on room?" "Do you see any other kind in this lingerie store? Of course in the ladies." Just then the salesgirl came over and said, "would you like to try that on Miss?" That did it! I followed her to the try on room with my bosom bouncing all over the place where I took off my blouse (mom had gotten me several plain white blouses ‘on sale’ that she couldn’t pass up, she said) pulled up my cami and proceeded to put on my first bra, nesting my now slightly pendulous breasts into the cups.

‘Oh, that feels so nice and just look how it shapes me and that cleavage. Oh my! Oh, I just love it and as I said this to myself, that lovely twitch returned to my panties and I closed my eyes and enjoyed it. My knees gave way a little. *Ooh, that was nice. I’m just going to leave it on. I’ve already been taken for a girl and I don’t even have any real makeup on yet.

Did you hear what you just said to yourself Dana sweety? "YET!" Well, I guess maybe the makeup counter would be a good next stop then wouldn’t it young LADY? I suppose it’s time to admit once and for all that you are really turning into a girl, isn’t it? I’ll say there are side effects. Just look at yourself in that full length mirror. There’s isn’t a shred of boy left in you. You’ve become a young woman from brain to boobs.’

You’re soft and feminine and round and...oh, shut up and get ON with it. I did wear the bra and we picked out several others and then went on to the Merle Norman store where I emerged like a caterpillar turned butterfly. Mom was beaming. That I can remember. We didn’t buy much there but I remember that vivid shade of polish on my nails and the taste and smell of my new lipstick and perfume. When I looked in the mirror, boy Dana was history—totally. From that point on, I don’t remember much except several stares from young men. I think I rather enjoyed that. I couldn’t help smiling at them. The next stop was a shoe store and I walked out with about eight pairs in various styles of heels, all out of their boxes so they’d be easy to carry. It was like I was on drugs or something. It was all so exciting and yet so unreal somehow. I got everything from flats to sexy, stripy high heeled sandals and pumps. It’s a good thing money wasn’t a problem for us. I knew I had reached the point of no return. Mom’s son Dana was on his way to the archives, perhaps in read only mode. Who knows, maybe even to a ‘hidden’ file.

Now, almost a year after Dad’s death, I’d pretty much lost interest in what lay between my legs except that I now found that I was getting a bad attitude about still having them there. My manhood had once again become my boyhood, about the age of eight or ten, I’d say and a definite hindrance to my womanhood..

My chest, no longer classified as such with it’s two inch wide brown areolae and 3/8" inch projecting nipples that were now capable of giving me ever so much more ecstasy than my rod ever did. I had been lately taking great pleasure in manipulating my breasts instead, as my hands, ever more feminine looking and acting, caressed the ever increasing twin mounds of feminine flesh.

This was a most peculiar set of circumstances and I asked Mom to check with the doctor about why my body had become that of a young woman even though, at this point, I was enjoying myself so much, I didn’t want it to stop, not really. She did and came back with a different prescription to be taken the same way the old pills were except these were bluish, maybe purple and she had another round of injectables for me. Hoping(half heartedly) that they could cure these strange side effects of the previous stress management therapy, I doubled up on them only to find that over the ensuing months into summer that I was becoming ever increasingly feminine in my outlook and appearance.

Dana, the young man was gone completely, replaced by Dana, the young woman and worst of all, I was beginning to seriously size up MEN. I couldn’t help myself. I checked out the bulges in their jeans and tushes and their muscles the same way they check out bosoms, legs and butts. And yet I didn’t think of myself as a ‘queen’. It somehow felt like I had every right to be doing that just like any other girl. ‘Any other girl.’ Yep, boy Dana was gone!

It was becoming quite hard, make that impossible, to hide my bosom as I was sure I was now at least a C cup. In fact, I went into the lingerie store alone one day and tried on some bras and only found one C cup that could contain me. I don’t think Mom knew to what extent her little boy had changed as the result of these so called anti stress pills, the shots and then more pills, not to mention the special herbs she was giving me like St. Johns’ Wort and licorice root.

"Mom, I really need some new jeans and work slacks again. I think you better measure me." "Mom never made mistakes when buying clothing so I knew she’d come back with what I needed. What she came back with all read size 12 inside. "Mom, these are all girls stuff again and the dress slacks have all back zippers." "Honey, your measurements just don’t accommodate anything else. I’m sorry. You enjoy your girl things don’t you? You like wearing skirts with your blouses now and your pretty dresses and heels. Make the best of it honey and I thought you might be getting tired of looking so drab so I got you some other things too."

I was like a kid with a new toy as I found they were all cosmetics; combs and brushes and rollers and lipsticks and pencils and liners and mascara and foundations, blushes and nail polish. I certainly had enjoyed my trip to Merle Norman though and here was everything a girl needed to be well groomed. Well, her instincts were still in good order. To be honest, I"d been wondering what I might look like if I could master my own makeup like other girls with dramatic eyeliner and shadow and all.

Yes, I said ‘other girls.’ I rather suddenly realized that I wasn’t really a young man anymore and no longer cared, that somehow, with my dimensions of 36C+, 26, 37, I no longer fit the mold. Add to that the changes that had occurred in my skin and face, my musculature and demeanor, and it added up to just one thing...girl. Somehow, I had turned into a girl with a vestige of manhood and no longer cared about that at all except to say that I’d rather be rid of it.

It was at this point that I could no longer hide anything from Mom or anyone else including my co-workers. I had just removed my satin gown as she strolled into my bedroom one morning just as I was putting my terry robe on in an attempt to continue hiding my body from her. In short, she caught me buck naked. "My GAWD Dana! Your body...they...it’s...you’re stunning." "The question you haven’t asked is they are a D cup now Mom."

"My, you do take after your grandmother and me, don’t you dear? Honey, we just have to get you some proper clothes for the office. I think it’s time to surprise Janice. You can’t go around pretending to be my son anymore. Look at you. You need more dresses and skirt suits, not pants." "I know. It really is time I got some more pretty dresses and things isn’t it?" "Are you alright with this honey?" "It’s been so gradual Mom. I don’t know how or why but yes, I’m ok as long as you still love me this way." "How could I not love you my darling, she said." She got a very peculiar look on her face then. It seemed like tears were welling up in her eyes.

At this point, Mom lost it completely. I"d never seen her cry like that, not even at Dad’s funeral. After she quieted down, she explained that it was all her fault, her doing. She had done this to me knowing full well what the ‘side’ effects would be. She had been afraid of losing me too, and attempted to bring us closer, knowing that daughters were closer and stayed closer to the nest, she had turned me into her daughter on purpose.

She had given me special ‘vitamins’ all this time and now I was almost a real girl, a Kelly Girl. Oh boy. Vitamins. Best little hormones a girl could buy and I’d been doubling up on them. And the shots. Even stronger hormones. Oh my! No wonder I was being sent out on more secretarial jobs lately. So Monday, I called my boss at Kelly Girl and told her I wouldn’t be coming in anymore. This she wouldn’t accept.

"Why, Dana? Is it because you’re changing sex?" She said it. She actually came right out and SAID it! Just like that, as if it were nothing at all. Like a baseball score! Like, "you’re having CREAM in your coffee now?" "Well, I, uh, yes, I guess so Mrs. Camden."

"Well, for heaven’s sake Dana. Don’t you think we’ve all seen it coming? You’ve become a lovely young woman right before our very eyes. We aren’t blind, you know. Our clients love your work and we have no complaints. Just get yourself prettied up and get your tight little buns in here like always, alright?" "I don’t know what to say. This is so bizarre for me."

"Honey, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Just get comfortable with yourself and enjoy it. It really is fun being a girl. You’re going to love it." "I already do Mrs. Camden. I really love it, and thanks. I’ll see you in a little while." "Oh, Mom, did you hear? They know and they don’t care. Isn’t it wonderful?" "Yes honey. It truly is wonderful and so are you."

Two months later: "Mom. I’ve met the cutest guy. He’s 6'2" and a real hunk. He’s assistant Vice President of his company and he wants to take me OUT! Do I dare?" "How do you feel honey?" "Like he gives me goose pimples Mom. I want to but I’m scared." "Does he know?" "Yes. I couldn’t even THINK about not telling him." "Then go."

"Mom, would you mind if I went ahead and really became your daughter, I mean all the way physically, like you?" "If it will make you happy honey, then that is what I want. I’ll look into it for you with Dr. Walsh." He knew the hormones were for you!"

"Thanks Mom. You’re the greatest Mom a girl ever had."

End.

© 1997-2000 No work herein described may be reproduced or distributed in print or electronic media without the author's express consent.  Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, to actual names that may exist or to circumstances which may have occurred or to other stories in this genre is purely coincidental.