Author note - This story is a continuation of events following on from "A letter from Laura," posted a year ago in which she described her visit to the school in Seattle and two of the three surgical procedures she accepted. You may enjoy this more by reading that story if you haven't already.

 

Laura In New Mexico

by Donna Dee

 

Well, time does indeed fly and it only seemed a matter of days until Laura was due to arrive to stay with us for a week or so before her scheduled operation; she wasn't at all nervous, she said when she rang to confirm her travel arrangements, in fact I would say she was as excited as its possible to be. She didn't know about our special relationship, Lucy and me that is, nobody did, though I know Cousin Nikki had her suspicions. If Laura wondered why we shared a bed or why most of our clothes were in the one room, well we had her visit to our two bedroom apartment to explain that. We would have to be cautious at night during her stay; Lucy could be quite vocal at times.

This was Laura's third trip to America in little more than twelve months, the first to the training school in Seattle and this third one to see us, but it was the second one she made to New Mexico that she was anxious to tell us about. She hadn't mentioned details in any of her letters, other than the fact that she had been and we naturally asked her why she had gone there, and it was one of the first things we intended to ask her about.

What she had told us was that our Aunt Maria, (Laura's adoptive mother) had been browsing through the copy of the Templeton family tree that Lucy had left with her and found the entry for Alan Templeton, his twin sister and their families, realised that the twins were the great-grandchildren of Horace and his third wife and immediately concluded that, if the information contained in the chart was totally correct, they too were entitled to a share of the fortune left by Horace to his families. By rights she should have flown over to meet up with them herself, but she couldn't face such a journey and asked Laura to go in her place. Laura, who had been thrilled to be trusted with such an important mission, made all the travel arrangements personally and flew south to Albuquerque two months ago. She was amazed by what she found out and felt sure that we would want to know all about it in view of Lucy's interest in genealogy. We had never met Alan though we knew of him of course and could hardly wait to hear what it was Laura was so keen to tell us. We looked forward eagerly to her visit.

Laura was due to arrive here in San Diego ten days before her scheduled operation in Seattle. Lucy and I drove together to the airport to meet her and had to wait some twenty minutes for her delayed flight from the windy city. Obviously we recognised her at once, but my how she had changed, she was all woman now. She looked taller, perhaps it was her new hairstyle or her very high heels, but most impressive was her new bust and her upright bearing as she walked, purposefully and determinedly towards us, smiling broadly. Her long dark hair had been arranged into a perfectly smooth French roll – immaculately of course, though I thought it made her look much older. She was perfectly made up; her lipstick was a shade Lucy often uses that I call 'killer red' and was matched by her fingernails. 'Killer' is a vivid, vibrant red; when applied liberally without the use of lip-gloss, it is a colour that literally drives me wild with lust. Unfortunately it doesn't look as good on me, being blonde or I would use it all the time, but it suited our new cousin down to the ground and, quite honestly, left me with my tongue hanging out. Her jewellery was expensive and I could have killed for her five-inch stiletto heeled crocodile skin thigh boots. I wondered if it was her implants that gave her even more confidence, not that it had been exactly lacking in any way before she had them done.

Having rescued all her luggage, (she didn't believe in travelling light, that's for sure), and just about managing to get it all into the car, we took her straight home for a light meal and a drink. We offered her a tour of the city – she declined and said she would prefer to just sit and talk, that there was so much she wanted to tell us. We had several bottles of wine in hand and we were gagging to listen to her tales.

She told us a little more about her stay in the training school, a few of the more intimate details she had felt unable to repeat to her new Mom or put into a letter. She talked quite openly about the 'minor operation' she had undergone after returning from the training school adding that the abrupt cessation of testosterone had caused a few temporary problems, but that all was well now. The further six months Dad had wanted her to wait before undergoing the SRS she now desperately craved were now up and Laura was anxious to move on.

We were inquisitive about the young man she had her dates with whilst at the school in Seattle and asked if he had realised she was transgendering when he kissed her?

Laura wasn't sure, not at the time at least. She reasoned that he certainly ought to have known as he had escorted quite a number of trainees to dinner and dances over the years, so presumably he knew what went on at the school. However, not once, not by the slightest reference did he give the impression that he thought she was anything other than a genetic girl.

Laura agreed she had been nervous; she wanted to be a real girl; she knew she could easily pass as a female and already thought of herself as almost totally feminine, most of the time anyway. The three glasses of wine she drank with her meal had helped her to relax and she had enjoyed a wonderful evening, but the butterflies started flying in her tummy as he took her back to the school in time for the 11.30 curfew. He had put his arm around her as they walked up to her door and as he drew her close in readiness for the moment of truth she admitted that she was tempted to run off into the safety of the school building.

But that would have been cowardly; she was more than half way towards full femininity, and that all that remained of Lawrence was a rapidly fading memory and an unreasonable prejudice about two men kissing. She also realised that to use this as an excuse just to avoid a little kiss was absolute nonsense and wholly repugnant. She remembered someone saying 'If not him, then who? If not now, when?' She was a girl now and if she was to be complete then this was bound to happen sooner or later and so she had accepted his kiss. At first she was very stiff and didn't really return it, but it was nowhere near as bad as she'd expected – the experience that is, not the kiss. Laura said she began to relax, allowed his tongue to enter her mouth and find her own. She was embarrassed to admit that she began to really enjoy it and then to return it, wrapping her arms around him tightly lest he tried to escape. They met several times before the course ended and he had come over to England last month to meet up with her. She agreed that this had thrilled her, especially since she now had her implants and could allow him to caress and worship her body, well, the top half at least. However, she insisted it was far too soon to talk of love; Lucy and I weren't quite so sure. There was one thing we were certain of however; Laura was certainly all woman now.

Eventually she got around to her last trip over here, and when she mentioned Cousin Alan we were all ears. "Did we know," she asked, "that she was not the only transsexual, or would-be transsexual in the family?"

We did not – well, apart from Cousin Nikki's husband and myself of course. It seemed strange that whenever this subject was raised I could immediately remember that I was once a male only to forget it again a few moments later. It made me realise that I hadn't seen Michelle for almost two years and whilst I don't know about any surgical changes Nikki might have talked her husband into, I remember her saying that he had fully accepted the changes and that he was quite happy to be her lesbian lover. Anyway, Laura had started her story so I gave her my full attention.

 

As soon as ever Maria Templeton had read about another relative she had been like a cat on hot bricks. She rang Alan to introduce herself and her daughter, (Laura had positively beamed when she told us this titbit) and immediately got herself an invitation to visit. However, her mother didn't like flying, certainly not long journeys as this would be, and arranged for Laura to go alone. It seems that she was more than happy to entrust this mission to her adopted daughter and if you meet Laura you will understand why; she is positively brimming with confidence these days. This is what Laura told us.

 

"I arrived in Albuquerque quite early one Friday morning on an overnight direct flight from Gatwick where I quickly spotted a woman holding up a card bearing my name. I walked up to her, smiled, and said I was Laura Templeton. She said her name was Martha, that she was Alan's second wife and stepmother to his two children.

Martha was just a little on the plump side, but very pretty and her dark hair was bobbed nicely across her shoulders and she had some bangs across her forehead. Her makeup was light apart from her pearlescent eye shadow and her rimless glasses really suited her – somehow they made her eyes sparkle. It was a hot day; I noticed that as soon as I got off the plane in my Gucci suit, and Martha was already perspiring even in her lightweight frock. She greeted me warmly with a hug and a kissed cheek, apologised for the fact that Alan had had to go to Tucson to work for today and maybe part of tomorrow but assured me he would be with us late tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Both the children were at high school, of course.

The conversation on the half hour journey to her home was mainly trivial but I got the impression of a warm hearted loving woman and that my welcome was genuine. She did wonder why I'd come such a long way to see a distant relative that very few of the Templeton family even knew of. She was surprised when I told her that I was adopted. I then explained that mother had decided to include all of great grandfather's descendants down to the fourth generation in her will rather than leave everything to me as her only directly related heir. I added that there was quite a lot to be shared between a large number of people and that mother was anxious to ensure that all those who were legally entitled got what was due to them. At the same time she wished to avoid bogus claims. That in a nutshell is why I was there.

She asked if they might be getting a lot of money, as it must have cost a couple of thousand for me to come over. I smiled at that because it was a damn site more than that – I'd flown business class, mother had insisted on it.

Martha then said that Alan had never mentioned his great –great grandfather and she knew nothing about Templeton's worldwide business interests. Alan had told her about mother – what little he knew. He presumed she was his great aunt, once removed, but if he was aware of the fact that she was an extremely rich woman, the one who controlled the Templeton fortune then he had never mentioned it to her.

Martha explained that since Alan probably wouldn't be home, certainly not until very late, perhaps we could go out somewhere to eat, so we sat on the back porch with a pitcher of home made lemonade and just talked. I think I told you both how wonderful it has been to me to be part of a family, especially one as big as this. I told Martha how I had come to be adopted by Maria, now my mother, but I didn't mention that I used to be a boy – I decided that sort of information was strictly on a need to know basis.

I asked her to tell me how she had met Alan. I already knew she was Alan's second wife and that she was the children's stepmother. Martha said she never knew Alan's first wife of course but she knew she died while giving birth to their second child, an unforeseen and un-noticed blood clot causing a fatal coronary. Alan had been devastated of course. He was the local odd job man, a man who did all kinds of household repairs much cheaper than your major builders, but even so he earned a respectable income. Having said that, it should have been obvious that there wasn't enough left for him to employ a nurse for the babies, and although Alan's twin sister had been wonderful, she had started her own family and wanted to increase it, so she couldn't care for his two indefinitely.

Alan had tried to employ a full time nanny, without success and none of the girls he had known before he met Hazel were interested in anything more than a night out. It was about this time that Martha came to live in Albuquerque with her aunt and by chance Alan was doing a job in her aunt's kitchen at the time. "I thought he was lovely," she told me, "but then almost everyone did.

Now it so happened that I couldn't have children of my own as much as I'd love to. My aunt knew this of course and suggested to me that I could do worse than move in with Alan and take on these two little ones as if they were my own. At first I scoffed at the idea – I didn't want to be some man's servant and be little more than a nanny. Like most girls, I wanted a husband and then, perhaps, to adopt a family I could call my own, not to be a second best substitute. What made it worse was the realisation that this might be the best offer I could hope for, and it didn't help to find that Alan was growing on me, that I really liked him.

My aunt Elizabeth approached Alan with what he must have thought was an indecent proposal; he was as shocked by her suggestion as I had been, but sufficiently desperate to consider anything. He said his sister thought it was a wonderful idea, but was puzzled as to why my aunt would try to palm her niece off in this way. I told him that my aunt was doing it as much for me as for him and since my aunt can be very persuasive, I ended up going on a date with him. We both enjoyed it and we did it several more times. I will never forget our first kiss, it was magical, maybe yours was too and suddenly the idea of living together seemed more and more appealing. I explained to him why I couldn't have children, he said he understood, it wasn't an uncommon problem but it seemed to me that if he was prepared to consider it seriously, what did I have to lose? I was starting to believe I was in love with him, that's for sure.

I asked myself what was love really? Just two people who got on well and who believed they could make a life together. Sensing that perhaps for the first time in my life I had the upper hand, I decided to dip my toe in the water. I wasn't prepared to just move in with him and care for them, so I told him I would take him and the children on subject to two conditions. The first was that I wanted him to marry me, but only if he loved me enough to stay with me for life, I didn't want him walking out when the kids were older. The second was that the children would be brought up to accept me as their real mother.

My aunt, his sister and several others pointed out the dangers of this, that someone would eventually tell the children and that could lead to all kinds of trouble. We agreed to tell them I was not their real mother when they were twelve or thereabouts."

We were married within six months of our first meeting – and I bet that would cause some gossip when the locals heard about it. I guess they were all disappointed that I didn't give him any more children within nine months.

My aunt paid for the wedding of my dreams – perhaps not as grand as some people enjoyed, but it was better than I'd even hoped it would be. It was a white wedding of course, Alan wore a morning suit, I had four bridesmaids and his sister was the matron of honour. We had a grand reception and a short honeymoon in Hawaii – it could hardly have been better.

 

I brought the children up as my own – I truly loved them just as much as if they were mine, which now they were in a way, weren't they?

Martha paused to fetch a snack and to top up the glasses. She asked how long I could stay as they hoped I'd have time to visit Alan's sister. I told her I wanted to meet his twin and that I wasn't tied to any particular departure day so long as I wasn't in the way and she hastened to assure me that wouldn't be the case.

She said she had arranged for Karen to move in with Jane while I was here, it was no problem, that the girls got on well together and would be more than happy to share a room. I guess she saw the puzzled look on my face as I was under the impression Alan had a son and a daughter, not two girls. How I resisted the temptation to dive into my purse to produce the details mother had given me I do not know, for I was quite certain I had memorised them correctly. Perhaps the children's names had been misspelled? I hoped she hadn't noticed my concern.

But I was wrong; she had noticed. She pursed her lips and smiled ruefully. "I am so sorry Laura, we didn't plan to mislead you but both Alan and I were hoping you wouldn't discover that Kevin had become Karen, that he had transgendered. I do hope you aren't offended."

That was rich, wasn't it? How could I, or mother for that matter object to someone else transgendering when I was already a long way down the road towards full femininity, aided and abetted my adoptive mother? However I still made no reference to my situation at the time.

Laura paused for a moment as she reached for the freshly topped up glass of white Zinfandel that Lucy had just poured for her. Sitting beside her I touched her left hand and admired her perfect nails and asked if they were all her own. "Nine of them are," she smiled, "I broke one last Monday, but you can't tell, can you?" She held up the middle finger of the left hand for me to see; it had indeed been perfectly repaired. She took another slurp, put down the glass and as she made herself comfortable by standing slightly, smoothing her skirt and then sitting again, I found it hard to believe that a part of her was still male, not that anyone would believe it if I told them, or even if she showed them. Her body, her hair, her face, makeup and perfume were all as feminine as they could possibly be. What's more the temptation to kiss those delicious red lips was nigh on irresistible, but luckily Laura continued her story.

You will already have guessed that Kevin, her youngest, was now Karen, and had been for some eight months. I asked how it had come about – whose idea it had been and, most important, was Kevin happy as Karen?

She laughed quite loudly. "Oh it was his idea, Laura; it was entirely his all right and she is extremely happy to have made the change. You will realise we now think of him as her of course. What I don't understand is why neither his dad nor I suspected a thing until he suddenly appeared in this very room as a girl, new clothes, hair do, makeup, the lot. Having said that we must have been blind because when we thought about it later there were more than enough clues to the way he was thinking, for the twelve months beforehand at least. Alan and I mentioned several things we should have been suspicious of – but transgendering – or even simple cross-dressing would have been the last thing we thought of.

He had just had his fourteenth birthday when I first realised he was taking a lot more care over his appearance – and I didn't want to knock that, believe me," she grinned. "His hair had always been fairly long, almost to his collar I guess, a dirty sort of blonde colour, always tangled and untidy. He obviously had hundreds of split ends and there was always several dozen left behind in his hairbrush every morning. He used hair cream occasionally – too much if you ask me, and it wasn't as if it kept it tidy. He was always messing with his bicycle and I could often see oil ingrained into his hands even though he was as clean as the next boy. His finger nails were always broken and often dirty." Martha shuddered at the thought.

"Suddenly, and it was suddenly, he started using thin rubber gloves when he fixed his bike, Alan and I thought wonders never cease and I made a point of looking at his fingernails from time to time afterwards to judge the improvement. The damage was hardly visible, they were spotless and rounded, and it was quite unbelievable. Jane passed a comment on the improvement – he didn't appreciate it when we wondered if he had a girl friend but he wouldn't say either way.

At the same time his hair was cleaner looking, and since this was almost too good to be true I checked his room only to find a more expensive shampoo than the one I bought for him and a bottle of conditioner, the kind you buy if you think you're worth it! It was only then that I noticed his hair smelled nice too. I didn't tell Alan that while I was checking up on his toiletries I found a bottle of nail hardener and a decent manicure set; I was just glad to see such an improvement in his appearance. I didn't even comment on the bottle of moisturising cream I discovered hidden in his underwear drawer, but I made it my business to touch his hands and face occasionally to determine if he was actually using it. He was, and quite regularly I suspected.

Some time later he had his ears pierced, tiny little studs that might not be noticed by his dad, but they didn't pass my inspection. I told him his dad would go ape and that he should take them out and allow the holes to heal, but for the first time ever he defied me. He argued that hundreds of boys at school had their ears pierced and he wanted to be the same. He worried me a bit when he said that as soon as the holes had healed he intended to wear much bigger rings and hoops, that he might even get them done a second time. Alan did notice them of course, but I told him of the chat I'd had with Kevin and he agreed to say nothing for now, but if Kevin thought he was going to wear big hoops in his ears then he had another thought coming.

Kevin was the sort of boy who put fresh underwear on every morning, then showered and changed it again when he got home from school, consequently the underwear he put in the laundry basket was almost as fresh as when I put it in his drawer. Now let me make it clear that I never for a moment imagined he might be wearing panties and pantyhose to school, and I don't know even now if he did, but he could have been. This didn't occur to me for quite some time."

I asked Martha if Kevin had started to wear hoops when his ears had healed.

"Too right he did, though he first wore larger studs and then some of the wedding ring type – not too big but very obvious. By this time however, we had got used to them and Alan said to let it go. However it didn't stop there; his finger nails were getting longer and were always shiny as if he painted them with a clear varnish, but he hid his hands from me whenever I got close so I could never be certain. His hair rested lightly on his shoulders, cleaner than ever and always tidy. It was obvious to me that his face was still being well cared for. He used to have zits and acne, but not any more. It was blemish free and I was as jealous as hell.

I asked Jane what was going on, she professed not to know but I didn't believe her. Mind you, when we did find out we were all so shocked that if anyone had suggested the answer before it would have been ridiculed."

"So how did you find out," I asked?

"It was a while after his sixteenth birthday. He simply appeared one afternoon wearing female clothing with his hair done and face made up and told us. That morning he'd announced he'd be late home from school on what was the last day of the school year and we thought nothing of it. A large parcel arrived for him that morning – not all that heavy so I dragged it up to his room and left it there without further thought.

When he came in to the lounge about six o'clock that evening, Alan and I were having a pre-dinner drink, and we were dumbstruck. How he had the bottle to just stand there looking as he did I will never know."

"Why, what on earth did he look like then?"

"He was dressed in his school uniform, well sort of I mean. He had discarded his blazer and replaced his tie with the silk square the girls wore around their necks. I could tell at once that what had at first looked like his white shirt was, in fact a blouse, and he was wearing a grey pleated skirt instead of his trousers. He'd put on knee length white socks and black Mary Jane's, and he had obviously been to a hairdresser – ladies or unisex I don't know, but the dark part of his hair was gone and he was properly blonde – beige blonde perhaps I should say. He had had something done to increase the body of his hair because it now looked totally feminine with a large wave to one side of the parting and it was rolled under at the back in a pageboy style. From his ears hung two large heavy looking hoops suspended on gold chains, and there was another gold chain round his neck with a pendant on it. His face was lightly made up, he wore lipstick, and face powder, mascara and eye shadow on his eye lids and his finger nails that were now a lot longer than I had realised were painted a deep scarlet."

"Hello Mummy and Daddy," he smiled, "and Jane. I am your new daughter and/or sister; my name is Karen and I want you to love the new me as much as you did my former self."

"It seemed like hours before anybody spoke, but Jane was the first to move. She went over to Karen, embraced her and said something to the effect that she was very brave and very attractive and that she was very welcome to be her new sister. Just ask me for any help you want."

Jane then turned to face us and said, "I am sorry my parents, but I have known all along what Karen intended doing today, she has been planning it for some time. She asked me not to tell you because she wanted it to be a surprise."

I remained seated and held out my hands to him or should I now say her. She ran across, threw her arms around my neck and embraced me tightly. She even air kissed my cheek so as not to spoil her makeup. Then she turned to her Dad who just sat there looking furious. He spluttered and went red in the face as he told her this was a fine joke, but she was to go upstairs at once, wash that muck off her face and put her own clothes on. Jane and Karen were speechless – just for a few seconds.

Karen didn't yell or cry, she just looked at her father and said that this was for real and he'd have to get used to it. It was how she had dreamed of being for about four years now. She then added that since she was now sixteen she could please herself what she did with her life. Today was just the first step along that road; there is a long way to go yet, but come what may she intended to follow that road to the very end. Then she asked, "Please love me just as much as you used to, Daddy."

Her sincerity was obvious and both Alan and I had tears in our eyes as he replied, "I will always love you my darling, but this is going to take a quite bit of getting used to. Come here."

He held her in his arms and kissed her cheek, sniffing appreciatively as he did so, trying his best to lighten the tension. "You smell nicer than your mother," he smiled. Then he told her he would try to treat her as his daughter, but she must understand that mistakes were inevitable. He said he was bound to call her Kevin sometimes so she mustn't get upset if he did. However, he did caution that she would need to satisfy him as to her reasons for wanting to do this before he could give his wholehearted consent, adding that that could wait until tomorrow. Let's have dinner, shall we?

Dinner was ready so Jane and I fetched it from the kitchen and served it up. Karen then gave me another minor shock as she took her seat at the table, smoothing her skirt as she sat and laying a napkin over her lap. There is a first time for everything I suppose.

I quite forgot myself as I put far more food on Karen's plate than I intended. I don't suppose you've noticed Laura, but girls eat much slower than boys and I have often wondered if that is why we have smaller portions. Karen objected of course, ate what she wanted slowly, patted her lips with the napkin and generally behaved like the perfect young lady. I was surprised; surely I would have noticed had she behaved like this yesterday? We didn't have a pudding, we rarely do and so the two 'girls' excused themselves and vanished upstairs which was Alan's cue to give me some grief.

Karen's sudden change was my entire fault of course. Why hadn't I noticed anything – there must have been some clues? Well in a sense he was right, but when I told you about how he started caring for his hair, his face and his nails, did you think he might suddenly want to change his sex? Well I didn't and that's the truth. I retorted crossly that he saw as much of him or her as I did. Why didn't he notice that his zits had vanished, that his hair was cleaner, and that he was tidier in every imaginable way? So why didn't he notice anything? It had the makings of a good old-fashioned row until we heard two pairs of feet clicking quickly down the stairs. Jane looked as lovely as ever, but Karen had changed into a pretty flowered dress, put on stockings, some higher heels and some extra makeup. She really did look lovely and my heart went out to her.

Alan had to leave for work early next day, so we had an early night. I went into her bedroom to speak to my new daughter and I almost cried with joy to see her in a nightie for the first time ever, removing her make up at the dresser and then brushing her hair. "We need to talk, honey," I said, "but in the morning will do."

"Of course, mummy, I will try to explain why I have to be a girl, but please don't ask me to change my mind. Doing this wasn't easy as I am sure you know."

 

Next morning after Alan had left the girls came to join me in the kitchen for some juice and a croissant. Both were still wearing night dresses and robes, Karen's slippers had open toes and I noticed at once that her toenails we the same colour as her fingers. She was also wearing lipstick. I pointed out that it wasn't usual or even desirable to wear makeup first thing in the morning and her reply left me in no doubt that her change was for keeps. "I know that, mummy," she replied, "but I thought it would be as well to emphasise my femininity for a while to remind you who I am now and help you get used to my being a girl." How was I supposed to answer that?"

Obviously I wanted to know what it was that made her decide she wanted to do this. Jane was pouring some coffee as Karen started on her story.

"Do you remember dressing me up as little Bo-peep for the Halloween party when I was eight?"

"I certainly did," Martha told me; "it wasn't the most popular of costumes to put on a young tough boy but he got one of the children's prizes and all finished well. The next year he made no objections worth relating when I dressed him up as Red Riding Hood, nor as Snow White the year after. I don't think he went to the party after that. However, the Snow White costume had been very feminine; I do remember that, all frills and lace. I got him a dark wig just like the cartoon Snow White wore in the movie, put makeup on his face with a fair bit of bright red lipstick, none of which he objected to. He looked fantastic and easily won the prize for eleven year olds, and I do remember him staying in costume all evening, right to the very end."

"Well," Karen continued, "I think that was the start of it really. Those panties and silk slips felt so nice that I didn't want to take them off. It must have been a year or so later that I was messing around with Mary-Jo Round in her garden one Saturday. We were both very mucky because the chain had come off her bike and we went up to her room to get cleaned up.

Her mum was home and in any case I had no interest in her as a girl whatsoever, she was just a keen cyclist like I was at the time. I sat on the stool of her dressing table while she changed, I never so much as looked at her as she changed her clothes and my lack of interest didn't bother her either I can assure you. Suddenly she asked me to pass her some panties from the chest of drawers near to where I was sitting. I was a bit embarrassed at the time, but the scenty smell when I opened the drawer and the feel of the silk when I took hold of them to throw them to her brought back all sorts of memories about my day as Snow White. I held them in my hands for a moment or two and then she suddenly demanded that I give her back her knickers.

Well, Mrs Round must have heard her say this and came flying in to see what was going on. Nothing was going on of course; she was on the other side of the bed. Mary-Jo's mum chuckled when she saw my embarrassment as I threw the panties across the bed, and she said that I had better wait downstairs with her until Mary-Jo was ready. In their kitchen she poured me some lemonade and asked me why I had been stroking the panties between my fingers and looking so wistful. I realised at once that she must have been outside the door all along and watching me through the crack. I found myself telling her how I had worn the Snow White costume to Halloween, and she got me to admit that I had really liked doing so – something I never told you at the time. She said there was nothing to stop me putting on the costume again if I felt like it, but I was sure you wouldn't like it and that dad would be furious and in any case I just couldn't ask. She said I could dress up at her house if I wanted, that I could do it when Mary-Jo was at dance class one Saturday. I said no of course but she kept on and when she promised not to tell anyone, not even Mary-Jo, well in the end I did. It felt wonderful. I was in heaven. I wore even more makeup than before and literally tons of bright red lipstick. That was the only time Mrs Round helped me until very recently by the way.

Nothing more was said – she kept our secret, but it had felt so nice that I just knew it had to happen again and again. I wore Jane's panties sometimes, sorry Jane, I know it was wrong, but I always washed them afterwards and I never once jerked off in them, I promise you that. One day I found a site on the Internet that was for people who were cross-dressers and I got quite hooked on it. There were pages of letters sent to the site describing the fun some boys and men had wearing dresses and girls undies, and there were some that explained that a male who wore women's clothes was a she-male and how a she-male might fall in love with a male and how they had sex and everything. I didn't really understand it all, but I began to dream of being one of these she males and of it happening to me.

There were lots of true stories – at least they were claimed to be true about boys who became girls and had sex with men, stories that insisted the boys weren't gay because they were really girls in boy's bodies, and the more stories I read the more convinced I became that they were absolutely true. In some of these stories the boys were given some medicine that helped to change their bodies- helped them to grow breasts, and that idea really excited me. I still didn't know what to do, I still couldn't have asked dad so I went back to see Mrs Round. She refused to help me as I was under age – I know you will be glad to hear that, but she did agree to keep my secret. She suggested I go see our doctor, ask if I could see a specialist, an endocrinologist she said and even though I was afraid he'd tell you my need was such that I went anyway.

Doctor Morris assured me that he was not allowed to tell you what I had seen him about and after a long talk he did refer me to this specialist. I knew I needed to get hold of some oestrogen pills and that was what I asked this lady doctor to give me. She never once asked my age – I intended to lie if she did, and I saw her three times before I convinced her I was serious because and she put me on a starter dose that seemed to me to have no effect, though she insisted it would in time. She did, however, pooh-pooh some of my ideas and insisted that if I was going to change then I must change properly – into a proper girl not some panty-boy as she called them. She explained that in a year or two, if I had no adverse reaction to the oestrogen pills, it might be possible for me to have breast implants and surgery to provide me with the correct plumbing – those were her words not mine.

I was then quite naughty, I forged a letter from you and dad to say you supported me in my wish to change sex whereupon she upped the strength of the pills, gave me a few injections and made me feel a whole lot better about myself. There is now some evidence of breast growth and I am so very happy about that."

Reluctantly – or was it just pretend reluctance, Karen opened her night dress to let me see that her nipples were indeed quite large and that she had the makings of breast tissue to such an extent that I could see her needing a bra before very much longer. I asked her where she was going from here.

"There are hundreds of people like me out there- not just in the USA but all over the world, people who believe they are in the wrong bodies. I know now this really was true of me and so I want to carry on at school and go to university, become a doctor and then specialise in gender correction, transformations, call it what you like. I want to be a complete woman, ideally I should like to have a baby or two and I intend to work at making this possible at sometime in the future if not now. I do want to get married and have sex with a man one way or the other, adopt children if I have to, just like you adopted us." She smiled at me so lovingly that I knew I'd move heaven and earth to help her. Just for fun, however, and to see how much she really knew on the subject, I asked her to specify just what 'one way or the other' really meant.

"I am sure you already know that, mother, don't you?"

I did, of course, but I wanted to push it a little further. "I do?" I asked as innocently as I could manage.

Karen replied quite seriously, "OK then, if we are going to play silly buggers, I mean just like you and dad."

I really thought I was going to die as I damned near swallowed my tongue.

"A couple of years ago," she continued, "you and dad were having a rather noisy time one night as I went to the toilet. Your door wasn't properly shut so I peeped into your room to see just what you were up to. I didn't stay long, just long enough to realise why it was that you couldn't have babies of your own."

 

Laura smiled at Lucy and me, took another drink of wine and waited for our reaction, reaction that for some reason or another just stuck in our throats. Realising we were lost for words – how many women ever say that and mean it? – We allowed her to continue.

"It came as quite a shock to realise that Martha was the same as her daughter and me for that matter," Laura added, but to Martha, who had had time to get used to it, it all seemed very normal. Shortly afterwards the two girls came home from school together. Jane was tall and very pretty whereas Karen was simply beautiful – I wonder why it is that boys turn into the prettiest girls," she smiled, preening her self. "Karen has a gorgeous figure; everything about her is quite delightful. She is already undergoing the kind of specialist treatment she wants to carry out herself one day and has been guaranteed a post at the clinic provided she qualifies at uni. Her breasts are quite remarkable to say that they are all her own.

Martha admitted that the shock of learning that her children knew her most intimate secret was pretty devastating and was very grateful that Karen's wish to follow in her footsteps had been a great help in coming to terms with everything. She had been sent to a punishment school where her parents who were sick of her abnormal behaviour had forced her into femininity. Like most the lessons had worked, but she had no desire to revert to being a boy and gone to live with her aunt – quite truthfully to live happily ever after. Martha leaned forward and placed her hand on mine. "Laura, my dear, you are far too young to be discussing subjects like this, things you can or should know nothing about and I am rather afraid that either Alan or your mother might be very cross with me if I go into details."

I smiled at her tenderly. "Martha, it may surprise you to know that I am totally au fait with the subject of transgendering. Later on, when Alan returns, I think I may surprise you.

 

It was almost midnight and we girls needed our beauty sleep. We mae plans for the next day and wished each other goodnight. I met with Laura in the bathroom entrance, she hadn't yet removed her makeup and the killer red was just too tempting. We locked lips as we said goodnight again. It was the first time I'd kissed any girl other than Lucy since she returned from Boston, but Laura was so very lovely that I was afraid it might not be the last.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2006 by Donna Dee. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.