Leigh Anne – Sentenced to Life

by

Karen Elizabeth L.
© 2002

 

Mom died a couple of years ago, leaving me and dad to fend for ourselves.

People seemed to think that as I got older I got more and more out of control but dad never saw it that way. He would quickly rush to my defense, telling all who dared to judge his son that I was just being a normal boy rather than the type of little sissy whose feelings I might have hurt.

Kenny Post was one of those sissies; his dad owned a big company and they had more money than anyone I ever knew. He didn’t go to my school; he and his dad lived on the other side of town where I happened to run into him one day. He was always wearing the best clothes, kept his books in a backpack that looked like he had a new one every day, and just annoyed the crap out of me. I made it a point to ride my bike over to where he lived just to tease and harass him.

Kenny of course went crying to his daddy who came knocking on our door, demanding that I leave his little boy alone. That wasn’t a very good idea; it just made dad mad and the next thing you know, dad encouraged me to keep harassing Kenny and even joined in.

He and I would drive over to where Kenny and his dad lived, pound on the door and accuse Kenny of harassing me. Most of the time Kenny and his dad were out so we settled for harassing the housekeepers who answered the door. We were so good at it that three housekeepers quit in just over six months. Kenny’s dad tried reasoning with us and of course, we agreed to behave but we’d be right back at his house the next week with some imaginary complaint. A window or two in the house got broken and a few scratches appeared on the Mercedes during our visits but we figured that no one had seen us do it and that it would be our word against the housekeeper’s.

We were taken to court twice and each time we promised the judge we’d be good, just like we always promised Kenny’s dad. And just like we did with his dad we were right back a week later.

We played this game for a year until a letter showed up in the mail advising us that Kenny’s dad was pressing charges against us and that we would have to appear in court to defend ourselves. Dad and I laughed; another stupid judge to fool.

This judge wasn’t quite as dumb as we figured though and after Kenny’s family attorney finished with us Dad and I were both in trouble.

"You’ve had several warnings in the past and you’ve both solemnly promised to end this nonsense twice before." The judge growled at us. "Now it’s time to get serious."

He wasn’t kidding about getting serious either; dad was sentenced to two years in jail for harassment, intimidation, and destruction of property and I was going to spend the same time at the county youth detention center for the same offenses. Dad’s court appointed lawyer pleaded with the judge but it was no use. Dad and I had screwed up once too often and this time the judge was going to make us pay.

At the youth center I found out pretty quickly that I wasn’t as tough as I thought. The first night there I was involved in three fights and lost all three. One on one I could handle myself but it was usually four or five of them against me and they were mopping the floor with me on a regular basis; compared to my situation, Kenny and I had been best friends.

I won a couple of fights at the center but it didn’t matter; there were guys that were several inches taller and quite a bit heavier than me that decided I was cute enough to be their girlfriend. One of them singled me out and forced me to take care of him the way my mom used to take care of dad and me.

I cleaned his room; put away his clothes when they came back from the laundry, got him food, and ran errands for him. He was making plans to move me into his room so that we could be even closer when they offered dad and me a chance to get out on some sort of probation.

It felt so good to see dad again, we’d been apart for several months and I had really missed him. We were taken into a small office to meet with the judge, the lawyers, Mr. Post, and a woman we’d never seen before.

"I hope you two have decided that prison life is not for you," The judge told us. "I didn’t want to send you two there but I decided that you just had to learn a lesson."

Dad turned to me and nodded; I guess his time in jail was as bad as mine.

"I’ve got an unusual deal for your two," the judge continued as he looked at some papers in his hands. "It’s completely up to you but you’ll be released from custody and if you complete the program your records will be cleaned."

Dad had a sad expression on his face when he looked over at me. Why did it seem like he was saying "I’m sorry?"

"Mr. Brandt, I assume you’ve read the terms and discussed them with your attorney?" Asked the judge. "Do you have any questions?"

Dad avoided looking directly at the judge and shook his head. "No, your honor."

"Fine," The judge nodded as he rose and began to walk away. "I’ll give you thirty minutes with your attorney and your son."

Dad put his arm around me as the judge walked out. "I don’t like this but I’m not sure we have a choice. I never want to go back to jail again!"

"Me either." I swore as I pulled out a chair close to dad. "What do we have to do to stay out?"

"You’re not going to like this," He warned. "I didn’t when I first read it but it’s either this or back to jail."

What could be so terrible that I’d rather go back to the youth center and be some guy’s girlfriend? Anything had to be better than that!

Dad shook his head and drew a deep breath. "We’ll have to pay Mr. Post back for the damage we’ve caused."

"How much is that?" I asked, knowing that dad’s security guard job didn’t give us much room for luxuries. "Where would we get any extra cash?"

"It’s far more than money Larry," Dad sighed. "We’d have to work for him for the rest of our sentences."

Work for Mr. Post? What could he possibly need that we could do for him? "You could guard his house I suppose, but what could I do?"

"Since we drive off those housekeepers no one wants to work for him so I’ll be doing the cleaning and cooking for him and Kenny," Dad explained. "He did some checking and decided that since I kept out place very neat and was a better than average cook, I could be his housekeeper."

Dad was a good cook and our apartment was always neat but I couldn’t picture dad doing that for the Post’s. Something in the way he looked at me told me that he was really upset.

"Wait a minute." I suddenly realized what was bothering me. Dad wouldn’t fit in as Mr. Post’s housekeeper. "His housekeepers were all women."

Dad didn’t say as word; he seemed completely humiliated and his face was a bright red.

"That’s not going to change Larry." Our attorney said softly. "That’s what makes this deal so bad. I advised your father to refuse it."

Dad’s face got all twisted up; he was furious with the attorney’s advice. "And go back to jail? What do you think would happen to a guy my size there? And what about Larry? I doubt it’s been a pleasant experience for him!"

I vigorously shook my head remembering my stay at the youth center.

"What’s going on dad?" I finally got enough nerve to ask. "Are we out or what?"

"That’s up to you Larry." Dad sounded very sad and upset. "I’d do it just to get you out but it’s not up to me alone. You have to decide if it’s right."

"You heard my advice." Our lawyer started to say.

"Yes, we did." Dad nearly took the poor man’s head off. "Now please be quiet."

"I don’t care what it is dad," I promised. "I’ll do anything to get out. Anything at all."

Dad sighed and looked at the papers he was holding. "You were right, all of the Post’s housekeepers were women. If I take the job, I’ll be expected to look the part."

"You’re not serious, you can’t be."

"Completely." Dad told me in a voice tinged with defeat. "The judge recommended us for this program; he said we could pay back our debt and hopefully it would make us settle down. It’s strange, I know, but at least we’re out in the world again."

"It’s not strange, it’s totally perverted!" I exclaimed. "You’re not really going to go through with it are you?" I figured he wanted out of jail but this was crazy.

"It’s up to you Larry." Dad looked at me sadly. "If you agree, I’ll do it. Otherwise I’ll tell them what they can do with his plan."

I wanted to help dad. Maybe there was a loophole; I’d read all about criminals getting out on loopholes, maybe we could find one too. "I’m probably going to hate myself for asking but what exactly do you have to do?"

"I’d have to serve out the rest of my sentence as the Post’s housekeeper; do the cooking, the cleaning, and whatever else was needed."

"But you mentioned something about looking the part, what’s that about?" Maybe the loophole was in that condition.

Dad hesitated; he clearly didn’t want to answer.

"Mr. Post does not want a man for a housekeeper; he’s concerned about his reputation, afraid people will think we’re really lovers. If I take the job, I have to pass as a woman."

The awful picture of dad in a short dress with fishnet stockings and high heels flashed into my head. I guess the look on my face said it all.

"It’s not like that." Dad quickly added. "I’d have to wear a dress and all but nothing like you’re thinking."

He paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. "I got you into this mess, I’ll get you out. I don’t care if I look like a fool."

"The judge has arranged to make sure that you won’t be recognized," Our lawyer assured him. "No one will ever know that you’re a man."

My dad was willing to dress up as a woman, cook and clean for the Post’s just to get me out of the detention center? How bizarre could things get? I was terrified to go back to the center but how could I let dad humiliate himself like that?

I’d never seen dad cry in my life yet now he was on the verge of tears; he started to talk but couldn’t seem to form the words. Before I could stop him he reached for a pen, signed his name, and handed the papers to our lawyer.

Choking, he nodded towards me. "I can’t tell him."

The lawyer took the papers from dad and looked at me.

"I’m afraid that you have a part in this too Larry," He explained. "Your dad made your release a condition of his agreement but the judge threw us a curve. It seems that you’ll be released but only to your dad’s custody to serve out the rest of your sentence."

I thought I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. With a bit of luck we’d be out of custody and out of the agreement! "But what if someone who knows us sees us together? Everyone knows my mom’s dead, they’ll start to wonder and maybe take a close look at dad."

"That’s the other part of the agreement Larry." I was told. "You would have to be willing to be the daughter of the post’s housekeeper for the remainder of your sentence."

"Is that judge out of his mind?" I could barely control my anger. "I’d never in a million years go along with something that stupid!"

I no sooner got the words out of my mouth than I realized that dad had agreed to do exactly the same thing to get me away from the detention center. God, what a mess!

"I’m sorry dad," I quickly apologized for being so stupid. "I wasn’t thinking."

"That’s all right, I said the same thing at first. I knew you’d never go for it."

Our lawyer nodded and started to pack the papers up. "I don’t blame you Larry." The judge had no right to propose such a thing, I’ll tell him the deals off."

Before he could move I grabbed the papers from him. "If I don’t agree dad goes back to jail and I go back to the center, right?"

"Yes, but it’s better than.that." He pointed to the papers I clutched tightly.

I thought for a little bit. I’m all of five foot six and weigh about a hundred and fifteen pounds. If I tuned this offer down, I’d go back to the center where I’d be the roommate of a guy who was five inches taller and eighty pounds heavier than me. He’d already told me that he wanted me for his girlfriend and had promised to find me some pretty dresses to wear while he screwed the living daylights out of me. The light at the end of the tunnel just turned into an oncoming train.

"What do I have to do?" I asked as I signed the papers.

We went back before the judge who explained everything; dad would be the housekeeper and I would be his daughter. We’d be able to live in Mr. Post’s house and dad would be paid twice as much to be a housekeeper than he made as a security guard. I would be enrolled in the eighth grade at a nearby public school where I would be expected to behave as a young lady. If Mr. Post had any problems with us, we would be right back in jail with no second chance.

There was one last condition to our release, one meant to teach dad a humiliating lesson. The judge had decided that dad was responsible for my getting into this trouble he should be responsible for making me into a girl. Dad would get extensive training on how to dress, talk, and act like a woman and then he’d have to teach the same things to me.

I moved to the Post’s and dad left to learn how to pass as a woman. He wrote me almost every day to tell me that he was fine and couldn’t wait to see me again. Things would work out he promised, just trust him.

Mr. Post and Kenny had surprised me by being very friendly to me while I was waiting for dad to come. I had to wear girl’s jeans and shorts but I was allowed to use the pool or ride a horse around the property. I didn’t want the gardener see me dressed like a girl though so I just sat in my room reading and watching TV.

A couple of weeks later Mr. Post asked if I’d like to come with him to pick up dad. Naturally I jumped at the chance. We drove to a small home about an hour away. I followed Mr. Post to the house and waited as he rang the bell.

A pretty lady in a flowered skirt and a pink top opened the door and smiled at me. She looked so familiar but it just couldn’t be my dad.

"It’s nice to see you again Larry," She said in a soft, sweet, and sort of familiar voice. "Thank you for coming Mr. Post, won’t you please come in?"

She swung the door open wide and gracefully stepped back to allow us to enter. I was so busy looking at her that I bumped into Mr. Post.

"Please excuse yourself Larry." She said in that soft, sweet voice.

"It’s okay, he’s probably a little confused right now." Mr. Post said with a smile. "You look very lovely Diana, would you like me to introduce you to the young man with me?

"That would be very nice, thank you." She answered with a friendly smile.

"Larry, this lovely lady is your mother Diana." Mr. Post said as the woman held out her hand.

"Dad?" I couldn’t believe it! I stared at the pretty lady wearing a pink top, a flowered skirt that matched her top, her hair neatly curled around her shoulders, her pretty, nylon encased legs ending in a pair of pink heels.

You’d better get used to calling me mom," She laughed as she pulled me close. "Your dad’s gone for a vacation."

"Wow, you look so pretty." I said, my mouth hanging open in wonder. "How?"

"A lot of hard work." He smoothed out his skirt and sat down on the couch as gently as any woman I’d ever seen. "They worked me awfully hard while I was here but if you think I look pretty, it must have been worth it."

"You don’t look anything like you did." It sounded rude but dad just shrugged.

"You won’t either." He promised. "But everything’s going to be okay; we’re really going to be able to get away with this."

I looked at the woman sitting across from me; if I turned out anything like her, no one would ever know I was a boy. Somehow that scared me.

I loaded dad’s suitcases into the car while Mr. Post held the door for him. Dad smiled, smoothed his skirt again and slid ever so gracefully into the seat. There was nothing of my dad left, just a pretty lady who made me feel funny when I looked at her.

When we got to the Post’s I carried dad’s luggage in and showed him where we would be staying.

"This is better than our apartment." He said as plopped down on the couch and took of his heels. It made me feel better to watch as he propped his feet on the coffee table but it was short-lived relief; his skirt had ridden up and I could see that he was wearing a slip under it. Dad smiled and tugged his skirt down to cover the lace trim on the slip.

"Relax dad." I said, trying to make him feel comfortable. "It’s just us, you don’t have to act so swishy."

He ran his hands along his skirt. "I can’t relax, I don’t want to slip up and have someone find out that I’m a guy. If I’m not a convincing woman Mr. Post won’t keep us. Do you want to go back?"

"No but I don’t want to end up all swishy either." I replied angrily. "I could have stayed at the center for that."
"And a little more too." I could tell by his voice that I had made a big mistake. "By the way, it’s called acting like a lady, not being swishy. You had better get used to it if you plan on staying out."

Dad stood up and glared at me. "As a matter of fact, I think it’s time you got started. Mr. Post was nice enough to order a few things to get you started and you have an appointment to have your hair done in the morning. Let’s go to your room and start getting you ready."

"I didn’t mean to upset you dad," I protested. "I’m just having a hard time getting used to seeing you like this, that’s all. Give me a chance, will you?"

"I gave you more chances than I should have over the years," Dad insisted as he took my arm. "Maybe if I had used my head instead of trying to be all macho, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m stuck wearing these clothes and acting this way but what’s really going to kill me is making a girl out of you."

Dad wasn’t about to let a little thing like how bad he felt stop him though. "Get completely undressed, I’ll be back in a few minutes." He ordered.

A few minutes later I was pulling off my shorts when dad walked in carrying some packages. "Start with these," He said, throwing several pairs of girl’s underwear on the bed.

I stood dumbfounded staring at the assortment of lace and nylon in different colors.

"Isn’t there any other way?" I pleaded, panicking at the impending loss of my masculinity.

Dad shook his head. "This is hard enough Leigh Anne." He told me. "Please don’t make it any worse."

I pulled a pair of white panties up my legs. "Leigh Anne, is that what I’m going to be called?"

"It’s what your birth certificate says." Dad shrugged. "It was what your mom and I had planned for a girl."

"They even changed that?" I asked in shock. "Whatever happened to Larry Brandt?"

Dad shook his head despairingly as he fastened a padded bra around my chest. "As far as anyone will be able to tell, the Brandt family only has a daughter named Leigh Anne. Actually, it’s just Leigh Anne and her mother Diana, the father died a few years ago."

I felt sick to my stomach. "Are you sure we’ll be able to go back to being guys again dad?"

"It’s going to be okay Leigh," Dad said softly. "I got us into this and I’ll get us out again."

It took a couple of hours but I finally ended up in a pink denim skirt, white top, white socks with a pink band, and a pair of white sneakers. I begged and pleaded to be able to wear a pair of jeans but dad insisted that I wear a skirt.

"You need to learn how to act like a girl and the skirt will help to keep you focused." He explained while putting my long hair into a ponytail. "You’ll get used to it soon enough."

Soon enough came after an afternoon of learning to sit, walk, and stand like a girl. I must have made about fifty trips across the living room as dad looked on saying things like "Put your shoulders back, take smaller steps, and hold your head up." Once he was done drilling me on how to walk, I had to learn how to sit.

"Good girl!" Dad smiled as I sat properly with my legs crossed and my hands in my lap. "You got the hang of it in no time."

"Do you have to call me a girl?" I glared at him. "I feel dumb enough as is without you adding to it."

"Yes, I do." Dad said in a firm voice. "Until this is all over you are my daughter Leigh Anne and I will not only call you a girl, but I will treat you as a girl."

Dad didn’t have to say anymore, I nodded and promised to behave, to be a good girl.

"You’re doing very well Leigh." Dad said after a few more hours had passed. "Let’s change into something a little nicer and meet the Posts."

"I can’t dad, there’s no way I can let Mr. Post and Kenny see me like this." I started bawling. "Please don’t make me do that."

"We have to Leigh," He insisted as he led me back to my room. "Mr. Post has to be sure that we look like women, otherwise we can’t stay. He’s an important businessman and can’t afford any kid of scandal."

Dad gave me a white dress and some pantyhose to change into before choosing a yellow skirt with a white top for himself.. I’d worn long underwear many times but putting on the pantyhose was much trickier; I had to be careful not to put a hole or a run in them while gently pulling them up my legs.

"I wish I didn’t have to do this to you Leigh, really I do." Dad said as he zipped my dress and brushed my hair. "You should be out running around, playing baseball, anything but this."

I felt so bad for dad. Sure, he encouraged me to harass the Post’s but did the judge really need to do this to him? I’m sure it was tough enough for his to have to dress up and act like a woman but forcing dad to make a girl out of me was killing him. Why couldn’t I just go away like dad did and come back as a good little girl? Was what we had done to the Post’s this horrible?

I slipped on a pair of white low-heeled shoes dad gave me and watched as he changed. He seemed so graceful and even feminine as he took his skirt and carefully hung it up. When he took off his top I was amazed to see a pair of breasts pushing out the top of his slip. He noticed my staring and laughed.

"Glue on’s." He said as he stepped out of the lace-trimmed slip to show me the breasts nestled in a lacey pink bra that matched the panties he wore. "I can wear them for a week before I need to take them off. I have a padded bra for those times."

Dad was actually smiling as he stood there in matching panties and a bra telling me about his fake boobs and padded bras. Things were getting very weird.

"You sound like you’re really getting into all this girl stuff dad. Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine, why?" He seemed puzzled that I’d ask even as he stood there, staring into the mirror while holding dresses against him.

"It’s just so strange seeing you like this, that’s all. I mean you’re all dressed up like a woman and it doesn’t seem to bother you at all. You even seem to be enjoying yourself."

Dad smiled and put down the dress he was holding. Pulling up a chair he sat across from me, crossing his legs.

"The little time I spent in jail was absolute hell. I was almost raped several times; I managed to fight my way out twice but if a guard hadn’t have come by the last time, I would have been the new girlfriend of a guy who had muscles in places where I don’t even have places. Two guys were holding me down; I couldn’t move, they had my pants and underwear off, and I was just about to be taken when the guard found me. I’d seen other guys who had become wives in prison; they’ll never be men again. Their husbands break them; they’re forced to do things no self-respecting man should ever have to even think of doing. When this chance opened up for us I was determined to jump on it. I didn’t want to take a chance that the things I had witnessed might happen to you. I don’t care how degrading this job might be; I’ll do it to save you."

Listening to dad ripped my heart out. I started to cry and tell him about how I was about to become a guy just like he had seen. What would have happened to me if dad hadn’t swallowed his pride? Still, how could he really expect me to be a girl? I was totally confused; was this too much to ask for what we’d done?

"I don’t think I can do this dad. I can’t pretend that I’m just a sweet girl with her mom. It just doesn’t feel right to me, I don’t understand how you can wear those clothes; don’t you just want to rip them up? Come on, forget all this crap, we’ll run away and soon they’ll forget all about us."

Dad jumped out of his chair.

"No, we won’t run!" He screamed. "I gave the judge and Mr. Post my word that I’d do this if they’d let us out. I never break my word and there’s no way on God’s earth I’ll ever go back to jail or let you go back! Pay attention because I don’t plan on repeating myself. I am Diana Brandt, a woman who is the Post family’s housekeeper and you are my daughter Leigh Anne. I will do all that I can to set a good example for you and I expect you to be a young lady at all times."

I should have kept my mouth shut but I just couldn’t stand the idea of acting like some prissy little girl.

"No way!" I shouted back. "I don’t know what happened to you but I’m not about to be some little sissy in a pretty dress with a ribbon in my hair. You can stay and play house with Mr. Post if you want, who knows, maybe someday he’ll marry you and you two will live happily ever after but I’m leaving!"

I fumbled around until I was able to reach the zipper on the dress I was wearing, worked it far enough down so that I could get out of it, then took off the rest of the sissy outfit I wore. I had my shorts on and was reaching for my pants when dad stopped me.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like that." He apologized. "You’re right, give me a few minutes to change and we’ll get out of this mess."

That was the dad I remembered, not some limp wristed pansy, but a real man!

He handed me a CD with the best songs from groups I thought were really kick ass. "Why don’t you listen to this while I change? I bought it just for you."

"Cool, great tunes. Hurry up, okay?"

I slipped the CD into a player that Mr. Post had let me use and sat back to wait for dad to get out of his sissy clothes. I guess I was worn out because I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I woke up, dad, wearing a light green slip, was sitting in front of the vanity in the room, curlers in his hair, putting on makeup.

"Hey, I thought you were changing?"

Dad smiled and shook his head. "Not me, you’re the one that’s changing Leigh Anne."

"What’s with the Leigh Anne crap? Why are you still dressed like that?"

He mumbled something that I didn’t quite catch.

"Isn’t your name Leigh Anne?" He asked with a smile. "And why are you dressed like a boy?"

"No, my name’s Lar… Leigh Anne," The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. I looked down at my pants and shorts and felt silly. "Eeeww, yuck, why am I wearing these things?"

"You were saying something about wanting to look like a boy again."

"I was?" Why did everything seem so confusing? Why wouldn’t I want to look like a boy? "What’s happening?"

Dad walked over and took the CD player and headphones away. "You wanted to run, to break the agreement. They would have thrown you back into the youth center and I couldn’t let that happen. From now on, you’ll do what ever I ask, including wearing girl’s clothes and being a proper young lady."

"Never! You’ll never …"

"Let me show you a trick Leigh honey." I heard dad say. "Put it on backwards, fasten it, and then turn it around and put your arms through the straps."

I felt something in my hands and was horrified to see that I was holding a bra. I wanted to throw it across the room but instead I smiled and did just what dad had said.

"Thanks mom, that’s much easier!" I said happily.

"Shit, what happened?" I asked suddenly.

"I told you that I wouldn’t let you break our agreement and I meant it." Dad grinned. He picked up a small brush from the vanity and started to outline his lips with it. "I guess you could say that you’ve been brainwashed. That CD fixed it so that you’ll do anything I tell you to do. All I have to do is use a trigger phrase and the defiant boy is gone, replaced by a sweet girl who will do anything to please her mother. You’ll still know that you’re a boy, and that I’m your dad, but you’d much rather be a pretty girl."

"Yeah." I tried to fight the thoughts coming to my mind but I couldn’t seem to resist dad’s suggestion. "You’re right, it’s fun getting dressed up and stuff."

"What would you rather wear, shorts or panties?" Dad quizzed.

"Panties." I giggled. "Pretty ones; with flowers or lace please."

"I thought so." Dad smiled. "Now, let’s get those boy’s clothes off and make a young lady out of you, okay?"

I was unbuttoning my pants and pulling off my shorts before I came to my senses.

"Stop it!" I yelled, even as I was stepping out of my shorts. "Could I wear a dress?"

"Wait a minute, that’s not what I meant! I don’t want to wear a dress, I want to wear a dress!"

"Make up your mind, Leigh." Dad laughed. "A dress or a dress?"

"Please dad, don’t!" I begged. "Don’t do this to me!"

"I’m sorry Leigh, you would have put yourself in serious danger. I couldn’t let you do that." Dad handed me a pair of pink nylon panties with lace inserts above leg holes. "How about these?"

I couldn’t resist, the panties just looked so damned pretty and I wanted to feel them on me so badly!

"Thanks mom, they’re so pretty and they match my bra too!" I wished I could shut up but I was feeling so good! It was so cool to have matching underwear.

"Would you like to wear your white dress?" Dad asked. "I know it’s a little short but I think you look so pretty in it."
"That would be so nice!" I gushed. I was making myself ill but I just couldn’t stop. "After all, we want to show Mr. Post and Kenny how pretty we are."

Dad handed me the dress and underwear and with a big smile I reached out and took them. Minutes later I was wearing pantyhose, a slip, my panties and bra, and the cutest white dress with matching shoes. Dad kept telling me that any girl would have been thrilled with the outfit; I was simply disgusted!

"Could I wear a little makeup mom, please?" Disgusted though I felt, I had this overwhelming urge to let dad put makeup on me. I wanted to rip my tongue out of my mouth!

"Cut it out, please?" I sobbed. "I don’t want to do this, please don’t make me into a girl."

"Quit crying Leigh." Dad ordered. "I’m not exactly thrilled about this whole thing either, you know. I explained everything to you before you agreed; if you would have said no, I would have understood. Since you agreed to go through with this I expect you to keep your word just as I will. As stupid as it sounds, for the next two years I will do everything possible to be a good housekeeper for the Post’s; I will look and act like a woman and I expect to treated as a woman by everyone I meet, you included. You don’t have any choice, if you can’t behave yourself and act like a young lady I’ll have you running around in frilly, little girl dresses."

"I’m your son and you’re my dad. I’m not about to call you mom and pretend that you’re a lady."

I had a lot more to say to him but then I got busy learning the right way to put on lipstick.

"This color looks so pretty mom." I puckered my lips and blew kisses to the girl in the mirror. "It would be so cool to wear with a pink dress, don’t ya think?"

"We can shop for one after you get your hair done tomorrow if you like."

"Can I get my hair done any way I want, huh mom? Please?"

"We’ll get there a little early to look over the style books, I think we can find something we both like."

"You are such a cool mom, do you know that?" I asked as I threw my arms around dad’s waist and hugged him.

When reality returned I quickly let go and pushed away. "I hate when you do that!" I screamed.

"Then don’t make me do it." He calmly replied. "You gave your word."

"You can’t hold me to that, it’s not fair!"

"Last chance."

"Please dad, I don’t want to be a girl."

Dad held out a necklace. "This was your mother’s, she was saving it for when we had a daughter."

I was sure that I could get dad to snap out of it but I needed time.

"Could you help me with this, please?" I asked as I took the necklace.

Dad smiled, took the necklace and gently fastened it around my neck.

"I’m not that dumb." He laughed.

"You look very nice Diana." I heard Mr. Post say.

"You’re pretty Leigh Anne." Kenny told me.

I saw the grin on dad’s face and my hopes that this was all a bad dream were gone. Still I couldn’t seem to be mad.

"Thank you Kenny." I said in a sweet voice. Why did it make me feel good to have him think I was pretty?

"That’s a pretty dress Leigh." Mr. Post complimented me. "You look quite pretty in it."

I couldn’t believe it; I felt giddy and started to blush. It was just so sweet of Mr. Post to tell me how pretty my dress was and that he thought I looked pretty too! I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, my mom picked it out for me." I twirled to show him the back of my dress too. "She got me these pretty shoes too."

Mr. Post had us sit down so that he could explain what we could expect over the next two years. We would have use of the pool, a car, and live in the servant’s quarters, which was actually a guesthouse on his property. We would have use of a car which dad would need for shopping and running errands, and even be allowed to use the pool. Dad would keep the house clean, run errands, shop, and fix meals for Mr. Post and Kenny.

During work hours, dad would wear a uniform; a light or dark blue dress, stockings, and low-heeled shoes. He would be allowed to wear subdued makeup if he liked but it wasn’t necessary. If dad needed to help with a party in the evening, he would change to a more traditional maid’s uniform of a black dress and white apron.

"I’ll never ask you to wear one of those French Maid outfits, or do anything that might embarrass you Diana." He told dad. "After hours you’re free to dress as you like, but of course you’ll have to present yourself as a woman at all times."

Turning to me he explained that I would be going to a local public school in the fall where I would be just another girl in the junior high. I would have to wear a uniform, which was either a blue jumper with a white blouse or a blue pleated skirt with a white blouse.

"You look very nice in that dress and stockings Leigh, but they don’t allow girls to wear stockings at your new school. You’ll be excused from gym class for obvious reasons but other than that you’ll be expected to do everything any other girl would do. At home, you can wear slacks, shorts, skirts, or whatever you like. Just like your mom though, you have to be convincing as a girl."

Dad smiled and said that he understood, and then he turned and asked if I had any questions.

I had a big question but I didn’t think dad would let me ask.

"Yeah, why are you doing this to us?" I blurted out to my surprise. "This is so weird."

Mr. Post shook his head. "I’m not. This wasn’t my idea and frankly, I told the judge and the lawyers that it was the nuttiest thing I’d ever heard of. Hell, I didn’t even want to see you two go to jail."

Mr. Post explained that he was shocked when the judge handed down the sentence and hated to see us have to go to jail.

"It bothered me to think of you two in jail. I wanted to give you a second chance; maybe if we got to know each other, we could get along. It took several months to convince the judge of that, it seems that you two left him with a very bad taste in his mouth. He got back to my lawyer with this idea and I turned him down. I don’t want a man pretending to be my maid, and I sure as hell didn’t want to put your dad through the torment of turning his son into a girl."

"You must have agreed or we wouldn’t be here." So far so good, dad was letting me think and talk normally.

"I wasn’t given any other option to get you two free. I had several meetings with the people who handled your dad’s training before I was convinced that it was really possible. Only then was I willing to go along with it."

I felt like a complete moron. Mr. Post wasn’t some sort of pervert who wanted to see guys dressed like girls; he really wanted to help us.

"I goofed."

"I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen." Dad nodded.

I crossed my legs and folded my hands in my lap. "I’ll be a good girl, mom." I said softly.

Later, in our rooms, dad asked me to choose what I wanted to wear to bed; a blue nightgown with teddy bears on it or a pair of blue PJ’s with clouds on them. Either choice was too girly for me but it had to be one or the other.

"I don’t think I’m ready for a nightgown yet mom." I said shyly as he unzipped my dress. "Do you mind?"

"I understand." He chuckled. "It took a week before I wore my first nightgown."

I stepped out of my dress and slip, carefully removed my stockings, and then undid my bra reversing the trick dad had shown me for putting it on.

"Here goes nothing." I gulped as I slid the top over my head.

After I got the PJ’s on dad helped me take off the little bit of makeup he had put on me. He undid my ponytail and brushed out my hair.

"Any thoughts on how you’d like to have your hair done?" He asked as he hung up the outfit he had worn. I watched as he took off his slip, bra, and stockings. His gestures were very smooth, as if he’d been dressing that way all of his life.

I just shook my head, still in shock over having to pose as a girl. I tried to picture myself in a jumper, my books held to my chest the way girl’s held them, terrified as I walked through a school for of kids. What if one of them saw something suspicious? What if I gave myself away?

"Mom, I’m so scared."

"I was scared at first too Leigh," Dad slipped a short pink nightgown on then sat on my bed. "It just takes time to get used to it, that’s all. Trust me, it’s not so bad. No one knows who we are, we’re safe."

Dad held me and rocked me until I fell asleep.

Dad was already up and making breakfast when I woke up the next morning. He seemed so comfortable and at ease in the robe and nightgown he wore that it bothered me. Dad had never seemed like a sissy to me but now everything about him practically screamed "Woman". It was spooky watching him flit around so gracefully, his nightgown swaying around his body; a smile a mile wide on his face.

"Morning sleepyhead." He called out in a woman’s voice. "Ready for a little breakfast before your hair appointment?"

"Is that really you dad?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "Why does your voice sound funny?"

"Of course it’s me silly," Dad giggled. "And what’s wrong with my voice?"

"You sound like a lady, that’s what." I slipped my feet into a pair of blue bunny slippers dad had set out for me and followed him to the kitchen.

Dad smiled at me and nodded. "Thank you, I’ve been practicing and I’m glad you noticed."

In just over two weeks dad had learned how to dress, walk, and even talk like a woman. What exactly happened at that place he went to, I wondered? The woman who had answered the door wasn’t dad in a dress; she was way too well dressed and ladylike to have been my dad. She looked about the same height, the same weight, and even had the same hair color, but she couldn’t have been dad, even if she did seem to know all about me. Did someone kidnap dad and put this lady in his place?

"What happened while you were away dad? What did the do to you?"

"What are you talking about?" He laughed and brushed his robe and nightgown under him as he sat.

"How did you get to be such a lady in such a short time?"

"I practiced – very hard. I told you that I wasn’t going to let them send us back to jail and I meant it. I’ll be the perfect lady if that’s what it takes to stay out."

Dad’s voice signaled that he didn’t want any more questions. Okay, I could understand not wanting to go back, I didn’t either. I just couldn’t imagine that I could ever be as good a girl as he was a lady. At least I knew he could help if I needed it.

After breakfast Dad and I got ready for my hair appointment. I thought I’d have to wear another dress and was surprised when dad said I could wear shorts. I should have known that there would be a catch; the shorts were pink satin with a matching top. I looked up and saw dad with a big smile on his face.

"I thought you’d look pretty in them; I’ll be wearing a similar set in peach."

I never thought dad and I would wear matching clothes, and especially not satin short sets but a deal was a deal so I put on a bra and my new clothes.

"That will never do." Dad said as he looked at the obvious bulge in my shorts. "Don’t worry, I’ve got just what you need though."

Dad scampered, (Yeah, scampered would be the best way to describe the way he moved; almost like a little girl would.), out of the room and was back in a minute with his outfit and what seemed to be two jock straps.

"Now that’s really weird; I mean dressing like a girl is strange enough but girls don’t wear those." I laughed and pointed to the two straps.

"No, girls don’t." Dad giggled again. "Unless they’re girls like us!"

"Uh dad, do you have to giggle like that? It drives me nuts. Now, what are you talking about?"

Dad handed me one of the straps and I found that it wasn’t a jock strap at all, more of a wide belt made out of some elastic material. He took of his nightgown and panties and showed me what the belt was really for; to keep my genitals tucked up inside of my groin so that they wouldn’t show.

"See, perfectly flat. Just like a woman!" He announced proudly as he adjusted his panties. "Now, put yours on."

I followed his directions and was soon wondering how I’d ever be able to move with that thing on. I never wore anything remotely like it and it felt as though an invisible hand was pushing my genitals towards my throat.

"It takes a bit of getting used to." He laughed as he looked at the expression on my face. "You probably won’t need it for dresses or skirts but it’s required under tight fitting pants or shorts of course."

"Of course." I barely croaked.

Dad effortlessly slipped on his bra and shorts set then plugged a set of heated curlers in.

"Want me to curl your hair a little?" He offered as he brushed on his makeup.

"Nah, I’m going to have it done anyhow, right?" Why add to my misery?

"Count on it! We’re going to find a style that makes you look absolutely adorable but will be easy to take care of."

Another thing to look forward to, being adorable. Will the treats ever end?

I ended up with a hairstyle that looked really cute, down to my shoulders and curled, with bangs that really did make me look adorable. Oh well, I’m stuck in this pretty prison for two years, might as well make it look nice.

Getting my hair done was a major thing for me; not because I had to sit like a good little girl while it got shampooed, cut, and curled, that wasn’t so hard. What was hard was me, literally! Good old Mr. Happy was thrilled with all of the pretty girls in the salon and he wanted to say hi! Between his insistence to come out and play and the belt’s insistence that he stay put, I was a very unhappy, extremely uncomfortable camper.

I mentioned it to dad who seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments.

"There is something you can take to calm Mister Happy down." He mentioned as we drove to the mall.

"You mean that he wouldn’t get big anymore?

"Uh huh, he’d still work when you had to go to the bathroom, but girls wouldn’t get him all worked up anymore."

"But it feels good when he gets all worked up."

"I know, believe me I know." Dad grinned. "But not when you’re wearing one of these belts."

Dad hit that one for a home run. With my belt on if Mr. Happy got happy, I got very sad. Still, it didn’t seem right to stop him from getting that way and he only did it around pretty girls.

"I’ve been taking it." Dad said, ending my doubt. If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Dad gave me a few pills that he had and promised to get me more.

Dad knew right where to go to get me new clothes. He showed me all kinds of different clothes; satin short sets like the kind I was wearing, jeans with flowers on the pockets, tops that had sparkles all over them, and even some skirts and dresses.

"I don’t expect you to wear these often." He told me as he held some dresses against me to see how they’d look. "But once in a while we might go out somewhere special or maybe there will be a dance at school and you’ll want to look nice."

A dance? I wasn’t about to go anywhere near dances, especially not in a dress!

"I don’t think I’ll be going to many dances." I muttered. "Not like this."

"I thought you liked the dances at your old school?" Dad asked as he picked out a few dresses in my size.

"I was a boy then."

"So, one little thing changes and you don’t want to dance?"

"It’s kind of a big thing, don’t you think? I don’t want to dance with boys, I don’t want anything to do with boys!"

"You could dance with the other girls." Dad suggested. "Girls dance together all the time, it’s okay for us to do."

"But dad, I’m not…"

"It’s mom now and yes you are."

End of that discussion, his look told me. He gave me several dresses and pointed to the dressing room.

"What if someone sees me?" I asked terrified of being discovered.

"There are separate rooms, just like in the boys section. Now hurry so I can decide what you look best in."

With that I was given a shove while dad went back to shopping.

I passed a couple of girls, found an empty dressing room, and dashed into it. I quickly closed the curtain and then started to breathe again. Luckily the girls I passed hadn’t paid any attention to me. Well, one of them looked at my outfit and smiled, she seemed more interested in my outfit than in trying to decide if I really was a girl so I figured I was safe.

I took off my shorts and top and pulled one of the dresses over my head. After I tugged it down I held my breath and looked in the mirror.

I guess I should have been happy; after all, no one was going to mistake the girl in the mirror for a boy. She looked so cute with her hair fixed and the little makeup dad put on me, even Mr. Happy was starting to get interested! I hurried out to model the dress before things got embarrassing for me.

"You look so pretty Leigh." Dad smiled as he zipped me up. "We may need to shorten that hem just a little though, most girls wear their dresses shorter than that."

Dad took care of a lot of problems with our clothes over the years but it was really weird listening to him talk about hemming a dress for me as if it were nothing unusual.

By the end of the day I had three new dresses, five skirts, eight tops, (I had to call them tops, boys wore jerseys and shirts but girls wore tops.), and four pairs of jeans. I was also the less than proud owner of twelve pairs of panties, six bras, three slips, and four pairs of pantyhose.

It was the underwear that caused me to have a big fight with dad when we got home that day. He made me buy things like hip hugger panties with lace waistbands and even some that were nothing but stretchy lace. When I wanted to buy some plain white cotton panties, he wouldn’t let me, insisting that it was important that I felt pretty all the time.

"I don’t see why I need such frilly stuff dad!" I threw the panties into my drawer and slammed it shut. "No one’s ever going to see it and if they do they’ll know right away that I’m a boy!"

"Quit calling me dad, I’m your mother now and you better remember it! As for your underwear, I told you that you have to wear frilly things to remind you to act like a girl. The court said that I have a daughter and she’s going to act like a proper young lady. If I let you wear cotton underwear you just might forget to act like a young lady and then we’d both be in trouble."

Dad took me over to his room, opened a drawer and showed me his slips, bras, and panties. There was more lace in that one drawer than in several racks of panties I had seen at the store!

"I wear the prettiest, most feminine lingerie I can buy." He said proudly. "Since I have to be a woman, I’m going to be a complete woman. No coming home from work and changing into guys clothes, no men’s underwear under my outfits, nothing but lace for me!"

Dad glared at me and practically dared me to say something about his choice of underwear.

I’d seen that look on his face before and wasn’t stupid enough to push him.

"I’m sorry mom." I finally said.

Mom leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, something he, I mean she, hadn’t done since I was six years old.

"It’s not that bad Leigh, you may even like the way they feel. They’re a good deal more comfortable than men’s underwear."

"Uh, yeah, sure mom." I smiled and left wondering what she’d been drinking. It was going to be tough enough getting used to calling him mom and thinking of him as a her but preferring panties to my shorts was a whole other thing!

I went to my room to finish putting away the rest of my clothes and to keep from hearing any more about how nice it felt to wear a dress. I hung up my dresses, skirts, and tops and was just about to put my panties away when the first pair I picked up was pink, with a lace waistband.

I looked it over carefully, wondering what made mom think they were so nice. They felt light, much lighter than my shorts, but then again, there wasn’t much to them. You could almost see right through them if you held them up to a light.

They felt very smooth; I guess cause the fabric wasn’t cotton. The tag said they were made of satin but I didn’t have anything made of that before so I had to take it for granted that was what made them so smooth.

Dad, there I go again, I mean mom, also thought that they were pretty. That was hard for me though since I never really thought of anything as being pretty. Was it the fabric, the fact that they were almost see through, the lace waist band that she said wouldn’t give me panty lines under my slacks, or all of those things that made the panties pretty? I stared at them a little while longer before figuring that I’d have to wear them sooner or later. I took off my shorts and panties then pulled on the new ones.

As soon as I got them over my hips I realized that mom was right! They felt so light and cool; it was hard to believe that I was wearing any underwear at all! I quickly pulled my shorts back on so that mom wouldn’t see what I was wearing. I just knew she’d be thrilled; she’d probably embarrass me by going on and on about how pretty they looked and how nice they felt until I wanted to puke. I was just fooling around, trying something different; it wasn’t like I wanted to look pretty the way it seemed like mom did.

Mom walked in just as I finished hanging up my new dresses.

"Are you okay Leigh, you seemed a little upset?"

How could she stand there all dolled up like a woman and ask such a question? Of course I’m upset! I wanted to scream. My dad’s turning into a walking talking Barbie Doll and I’m next! What happened to that tough father I had? He went somewhere for a few weeks and came back as a pretty lady, all sweet and nice. I didn’t think that I was going to be able to deal with the change.

"Talk to me honey." Mom said as she pulled me net to her on the bed.

I tried to resist but she held me close and stroked my head until I relaxed.

"I want my father back." I cried. "I want to go to baseball games and get hot dogs. I want to watch a football game and cheer when the quarterback gets sacked. I don’t want to wear these sissy clothes and pretend I’m a prissy little girl. My dad would never do this to me!"

"You’re right Leigh. Your dad would never make you dress like this or expect you to be a sissy. Your dad though was the one who got you thrown into the youth center; he failed his responsibility as a father and put you in jeopardy. If anything had happened to you, I could never have lived with my self. This job was like a lifeline; it offered me a chance to save you. I don’t expect you to understand the changes, just understand that they are absolutely necessary."

I fought back my fears. I just had to know where my dad went. "What happened to you? Why did you let them turn you into a lady?"

"I..I didn’t have a choice," she started to say.

"Come on, don’t give me that ‘I did it for you’ crap. You’re way different than my dad was, you didn’t have to go so far."

"Please let me finish." Mom said curtly. "I can’t help the way I act, they did something that makes me act this way."

Mom poured out all the details of what had taken place while she was gone. She was taken to a women’s hair styling shop where she was immediately ordered to change into a pair of panties and a short nightgown. After changing two women took her into another room to do her hair.

"While they did my hair they gave me headphones and told me to relax and listen to the music. It took several hours to get my hair, nails, and makeup done but the music sounded so nice and I felt so relaxed that I didn’t even mind when they put stuff on my legs and chest to get rid of the hair. When they were finished I looked in the mirror and at first I was mad. My hair was blonde instead of brown; my nails were painted a frosty pink, and with all the makeup I wore, I actually looked pretty. I was furious at first but when they asked how I liked it, I couldn’t seem to stay mad. I kept staring into the mirror and telling them how happy I was! They took me into another room and showed me different dresses and skirts. So help me, I couldn’t wait to try them on! By the end of the afternoon I was wearing a dress that I had chosen and all of the appropriate things that a woman would wear under it."

Mom went on to tell me that day after day she was trained in how to dress, wear makeup, hold her hands, and do everything she had normally done in a feminine manner. Each night she listened to music piped into her room and every morning she woke up anxious to be more of a woman.

"It wasn’t until the end of my training that they told me what they had done." She said sadly. "The music had brainwashed me into thinking of myself as a woman. I love wearing pretty clothes and makeup, I just can’t imagine wearing plain men’s clothes when I can wear pretty dresses and lingerie instead!"

I felt so bad for mom; how could anyone have been so cruel as to take a guy and make him want to look and act like a woman? Worse yet, what would happen when this stupid idea was done? Would my dad come back or would my new mom stay forever?

"They tell me it’s reversible." She said, reading my thoughts again. "When my time is up, they’ll put everything back the way it was."

"I goofed again, didn’t I? I keep thinking the worst when I don’t know what’s really going on. I was really worried that you liked being a lady!"

Mom smiled and ran her fingers through my hair. "Let’s put on our nightgowns, watch a movie and have some popcorn." She suggested.

I was so happy to know that it wasn’t mom’s idea to be a lady that I started taking off my shorts without realizing that I was wearing my new panties underneath. Mom saw them and smiled.

"Feel nice, don’t they?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"You don’t have to feel ashamed Leigh, you’re a girl now. Relax and enjoy the feeling of silky underwear as it rubs against your skin. Look at your panties, aren’t they pretty with the lace trim and the cute little bow at the waistband? When you wore the dress yesterday, didn’t it feel nice to have stockings on? Didn’t they make you feel sort of grown up, like a big girl?"

As mom talked I realized that she was right, my underwear did feel so nice and they were kind of pretty, and come to think of it, I did feel more grown up when I wore stockings, just like a big girl. Maybe being a girl wasn’t going to be so bad after all?

"I hope no one ever finds out about this." I giggled as I took off my top and bra. "They’d never let me live it down."

"Unless they found out for themselves how much fun being a girl can be." Mom suggested with a grin.

"I’d love to see someone like Tommy Patchett in a dress, I bet he’d look so cute."

"And my boss from the security company, the one that was always chewing me out, He’d be simply adorable in a bra, panties, and nylons!"

We laughed and had a great time thinking of different people we’d like to put into our shoes. How would they like having to wear dresses and stockings? Once they got used to it like I did, I thought they’d be thrilled!

The next day I woke up feeling odd. Was it a bad dream or had mom really seen me in my new panties? I had to have been dreaming to think that I enjoyed fantasizing about other boys wearing dresses and girl’s underwear; I’d never really think such a thing, right? I stepped out of bed and instantly realized that my worst fears had come true; I was wearing a pink silky nightgown with ‘Princess’ written across the front in glitter, just like the one I was wearing in what I thought had been a bad dream.

"Good morning sweetie," Mom called from the doorway. "I have breakfast waiting, why don’t you throw on a robe and hurry into the kitchen?"

I was going to ask if she had used that brainwashing stuff on me but thinking of that mad me feel very sad so I stepped into my fuzzy pink slippers, put on my pretty robe and hurried to breakfast.

"Mr. Post told me about services at a local church," Mom said as she placed a small plate of pancakes in front of me. "I thought you might like to wear that pretty blue skirt of yours with a white blouse. Since you’ve been good, you can wear a pair of stockings with it."

Of all my new clothes, the blue skirt had to be the simplest, least feminine, outfit of all. I was glad that mom chose that instead of something like that sleeveless yellow dress that made me look more like a girl.

"That sounds good mom, thanks. Should I wear my blue skimmers with it?"

"Good girl, Leigh." Mom smiled and clapped. "That would be an excellent choice, pretty, yet conservative."

After eating I took off my nightgown and began to dress for church. First came a white bra with a pink flower where the cups came together. I sat down and carefully rolled a pair of pantyhose up one then the other leg before tugging them over my hips. They felt so good against my legs, how could anything this fun be wrong?

I put on the silky white blouse mom had mentioned, stepped into a cute slip with lace around the bottom then pulled the blue skirt up and fastened it. I slid by blue skimmers on my feet and checked myself out in the mirror.

"Not bad for a boy." I laughed as I carefully checked to make sure my slip didn’t show. Mom had said that a proper young lady always does a careful check in the mirror to make sure her slip isn’t showing or her skirt isn’t tucked into the back of her pantyhose. I didn’t want to call attention to us at church so I took extra long making sure everything was right.

Mom looked up from her makeup table. "You did very well Leigh Anne." She told me as she smeared makeup around her face with a small sponge. "I’ll be done in a minute."

I couldn’t believe how good she looked! What had once been my father had curlers in her hair and was now wearing a pink dress with a pleated skirt, a white belt, and a white lace jacket. Her breasts formed very interesting mounds in the front of her dress and her legs looked so pretty in a pair of very light pink stockings.

She finished with the makeup, removed the curlers, and took a rounded brush to her curls. For never having to do it before, mom was a whiz with a brush. In a couple of minutes she had the curls all loosened and her hair looked great. I hoped she’d teach me how to do that; if I looked like her no one would ever think I was really a boy.

"We’ve got a few minutes, want me to put a little curl in your hair?" She asked, probably noticing the way I was staring at her.

I thought about saying no for an instant but something inside of me wanted to let mom make me look pretty.

"I guess so." I stammered. "Will I look as pretty as you do?"

"If that ‘s what you want, I’d love to show you how pretty you can be."

I stared and shook my head, unable to understand just why it seemed so important to me to look pretty.

Mom sprayed a little water on my head then rolled my hair onto the curlers.

"They’re hot." I complained as she clipped them into place.

"When you get older you’ll appreciate a pretty girl much more when you remember what you went through to look pretty."

Mom combed and rolled then let me sit while she inserted earrings that matched her dress.

"You have pierced ears!"

"Of course I do," She laughed, acting as though it were perfectly normal. "Most women my age do, it’s very difficult to find pretty earrings in a clip on style."

"Where did you get all the money mom?"

"Money for what sweetie?" She asked as she sprayed perfume on her neck.

"The money for all the clothes and jewelry. It must have cost a lot of money."

"You bet it did." She laughed. "This dress cost me a hundred twenty five dollars on sale."

She ran her hands along the dress. "It’s one hundred per cent silk and it’s so comfortable so it was worth it."

"You paid all that for a dress?"

"I’ve been saving some money for a vacation and Mr. Post was sweet enough to give me an advance on my pay so that I could buy some pretty outfits for us."

I would have preferred a vacation but I knew that mom and I would need clothes since we didn’t have anything pretty to bring with us. I would also have preferred that mom not use words like ‘sweet’ but then again, that was how women talked. I wondered if I’d soon be talking the same way.

"That is a very pretty dress." I forced myself to say. Even though I had to force myself, I couldn’t seem to keep from noticing that the dress was pretty and that mom looked very good in it. It was amazing what a pretty lady she made.

"That’s so sweet of you Leigh," She said with a smile. "Wait until you see how pretty you’re going to look, I’ll bet you’ll be thrilled to death."

I didn’t think so but kept my mouth shut. Mom seemed so happy that I didn’t want to upset her.

Mom finally took out my rollers and brushed my hair until it looked just as pretty as hers. I don’t know what happened to that boy and his dad, they couldn’t be found anywhere in our little house, the only people here were a pretty girl and her pretty mom.

"You are a very lovely young lady Leigh." Mom pronounced as she pinned a gold comb in my hair. "They taught me a lot about being a woman while I was gone, if you’d like, I can teach you."

I was really torn. I was sure that I didn’t want anything to do with being a girl yet I didn’t want to stay cooped up all summer. Worse yet, in the fall I was going to have to go back to school as a girl and wear a uniform skirt every day. Maybe it would be a good idea for me to know a little more about being a girl.

"I uh, guess that’s a good idea. I don’t know anything about being a girl."

"You will when we’re done," Mom laughed. "You’ll be all sugar and spice!"

"Just what I wanted" I thought as we walked to the car. "Sugar and spice."

I can’t begin to tell you how scared I was as we walked into the church. There were a few people standing around in front who smiled and nodded as we passed but inside was the real test. Mom breezed up the aisle, her heels clicking as she went, smiling at those we passed as though we were just another mother and her daughter out for Sunday services. She found a seat, motioned for me to go first, maybe to keep me from running away, and then slid in next to me.

I have to hand it to mom; she was the perfect lady throughout the service. Reciting the prayers fearlessly shaking hands with those around us, and she got even better after the service!

We were walking out when several women and the pastor greeted us. They asked if we were new in town and if so, were we planning to join the church. Mom pleasantly explained that she was the Post’s new housekeeper and that yes, we were thinking of joining the church.

"That would be wonderful!" The pastor exclaimed. "We’re always happy to welcome newcomers to our church. We have many activities if you’re interested in volunteering, it’s a nice way to meet the others in the congregation and make new friends while helping out. We also have a youth ministry that your daughter may wish to join. There are about thirty kids in their early to late teens who meet twice a month for activities such as bowling, movies, or studying the bible."

"That sounds so nice, doesn’t it Leigh?" Mom prodded. "It would give you a chance to meet other girls your age. It’s lonely being the new kid in town."

I wanted to tell the pastor what he could do with his youth ministry but mom’s comment about being lonely really hit me hard. Yes, I was lonely, and what better way to learn about being a girl than from other girls?

"Sounds great!" I said, my voice just teeming with enthusiasm.

Before we left mom had signed up to visit hospital patients and I was the newest member of the youth ministry group looking forward to my first meeting the next month. I was feeling very confused about the whole thing and wondered if mom had done one of her suggestion tricks to me. That wasn’t likely though, I was pretty sure of that. After all, every time mom had done that, I knew what I was saying or doing was opposite of what I wanted. This just seemed like a really good idea.

"Ready for some girl time?" Mom asked shortly after we got home. "What would you like to do first, practice with my makeup or try on some of my outfits?"

"Could I just sit and read for a little while mom? I’m feeling sort of confused."

Mom rushed to my side.

"What’s wrong honey?" She asked while brushing my hair, adding to my confusion. It felt so good when she did that, yet it reminded me that I was stuck as a girl. Dad never did that for Larry yet mom often brushed Leigh Anne’s hair for her. Dad also never used the word ‘Honey’ when talking to Larry but it sounded so nice when mom called me that.

"I can’t do this, it’s too weird. I’m always afraid that someone will find out."

"Stop thinking like that Leigh." She practically ordered. "You can do it, you proved it at the service this morning. Everyone thought you were a sweet girl, otherwise why would they have asked you to join the youth ministry group? Do you think they’d want a boy in dresses to join?"

I shook my head. "Bt that was just for a couple of minutes, I’ll go nuts in school!"

"Why? Don’t you think you’re pretty enough?"

"Of course I’m pretty enough, you made sure of that!" I screamed. "That’s another problem, I don’t like being pretty, I want to be a normal boy!"

"That’s not an option." She said softly. "For either of us. I already told you that we’re stuck this way, no chance of going back to being guys for a couple of years. Since we’re stuck this way, we might as well enjoy it, right?"

"No, that’s not right!" I countered. "Like I said it’s weird. You’re acting like some sort of housewife from those old TV shows; you curl your hair, you wear pretty clothes, you even have pierced ears! Worst of all is that you want me to be your sweet little girl. I’m not going to do it – dad!

Looking back I suppose it was really stupid of me to add that part about ‘Dad’ but it seemed like such a great shot at the time. I clearly remember sitting there with a smirk on my face, practically daring him to do anything. No one ever said I was the sharpest pencil in the box.

I think that’s a really cool outfit, what do you think?" I looked into mom’s smiling face and realized that I was pointing to a picture of a girl wearing a dress with a solid purple top and striped skirt. She had her hair in a ponytail and wore sandals that matched her dress. I looked in horror at my toes that were being held apart by cotton balls and had a fresh coat of nail polish on them.

"Very nice." Mom commented. "You’d be very comfortable this summer in that."

"You did it again, didn’t you?" I accused. "You made me think I was a girl!"

"I most certainly did Leigh." She said curtly. "I’m not going to put up with any more of your tirades. I gave you a chance to be a good girl but you had to start with that nonsense about being a boy again. You’re a girl and you’re going to like it, do you understand?"

"No! But I think this would be oodles of fun to wear!"

My heart almost stopped when I looked down and saw the little girl’s party dress I was pointing to. All frilly and puffy, it was a dream come true for a little girl.

"You wouldn’t!" I said my finger beginning to tremble.

"One more word and you’ll become my five year old daughter." Mom warned. "They can do that at the clinic I went to. I heard that several mothers had brought their nasty sons in and later took very cute little girls home. If you make me resort to that, I swear you’ll never be a boy again!"

"Please don’t make me into a girl, I’ll behave."

"You already are a girl, aren’t you Leigh Anne?"

"Yes mother, I am a girl." I replied meekly.

"Do you like being a girl?"

"Uh huh."

"Do you like wearing dresses?"

"Uh huh."

"Good, because for the next two weeks you’re going to be all girl! Nothing but sugar and spice and everything nice. You’ll love wearing pretty clothes, fixing your hair, and doing your nails."

"Yes mother." I hoped that was as far as I’d have to go. I figured that I could put up with having to be a swish, as long as I could stay a thirteen year old swish!

"I’m going to give you one last chance. For the next two weeks, I want you to show me how much you like being a girl. If you screw this up, I promise you’ll be my daughter forever. Understand?"

What was there not to understand? I was being turned into a girl; my dad was now a good-looking lady who seemed to have forgotten that she was ever a man, and if I didn’t act like a good little girl my new mother would turn me into a precious little girl in party dresses and petticoats – forever!

"Yes mom, I understand."

As soon as my nails dried I quickly put my stockings on and even touched up my lipstick, afraid that mom was hiding a little girl’s dress in her closet. You can bet that I was going to keep my big mouth shut and be a good girl after that.

It was with a cross between horror and amazement that I watched mom get ready for her first day of work the next morning. Sitting at her vanity in panties, stockings, and a bra, she hummed merrily while curling her hair and doing her makeup. First came the liquid junk that she spread all over her face, then a big brush with powder she said would help set the liquid, then another, smaller brush, that made her cheeks look a little redder. She was all smiles as she brushed colored powder onto her eyelids and made them darker with a curled brush she pulled out of a cylindrical container.

"How do I look?" She asked in a sweet voice after making sure her curlers were tight. "Do you think Mr. Post will like the new me?"

"You look pretty, real pretty, but do you want Mr. Post to like the new you? I mean, that’s a little weird, ain’t it?"

Cripes, what was I saying? I was all set to apologize, hoping she wouldn’t do that hypnotism trick again, but she just smiled and reached for a slip.

"If I don’t look good, I don’t keep the job." She shrugged and smiled. "The job pays more than I’ve ever made before, we get to live in this cute little house, there’s a car whenever we need it, all I have to do is keep his house clean and cook a few meals, it’s worth looking nice for." She stepped into a half-slip, and pulled the dress over her head. Carefully brushing her skirt under her, she sat and began to remove her curlers. When it was all over I just knew Mr. Post would like the way she looked. Maybe a little too much but that would just serve her right for getting us involved in this craziness! Mom kissed me, grabbed a purse, and her butt swinging, was off for her first day as the Post’s maid.

By the end of the week I was getting pretty used to my new mom. She was a lot like my dad had been, a good cook, friendly, always interested in what I was doing, but still she was different. Dad was never as bubbly as mom was; every little thing seemed to make her laugh but once I got used to it, even that seemed nice and soon I was laughing and giggling right along with her.

All the fun I was having with mom still couldn’t make me forget that I was a boy pretending to be a girl. I’d wear the dresses and skirts mom had bought me, I’d even wear the panties, bra, and lace trimmed slips but only inside. I didn’t have the guts to turn the doorknob and walk outside unless mom was with me; she was so pretty and dressed so well that everyone looked at her and ignored me.

I had just finished sweeping the rugs and dusting one day when someone knocked on the door. Since our house was in back of the Post’s salesmen never bothered us but it might be the gardener or someone else that worked for Mr. Post. It didn’t matter, there was no chance I was going to open the door and let someone see me.

Finally, after several minutes, the knocking ended. Just as I started to relax though I heard Kenny Post calling from outside. I opened the door and pulled him in before anyone got a look at me.

"Hi Leigh, it’s a really hot day and I thought you might like to go swimming with me. The pool was just cleaned and it’ll feel so good."

"Thanks Kenny, but I’ve got work to do inside." It was nice of him to offer but I was terrified of being seen in shorts, no way would I wear a bathing suit!

"Ah come on Leigh, no one’s going to laugh at you. You’re really pretty, just like your mom."

"It’s not that Kenny, I really do have to clean and …"

"I asked your mom already and she said it was okay with her."

The little snot had everything figured out. "Thanks Kenny but…"

"But you’re so pretty Leigh, and it’s a really good day for swimming, and you haven’t been out since you moved here, and I’d really like to have someone to swim with." He looked so sad, I felt terrible for turning him down but I just couldn’t go out wearing a girl’s bathing suit.

"Please, if anyone laughs, I’ll have daddy fire them. Please?"

I hated myself for being so weak but after all I’d done to Kenny I sort of felt that I owed him something. Strange but it also felt nice to have him tell me that I was pretty. Minutes later I was walking out the door, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a pink one-piece bathing suit, wearing a pretty lace cover up, and carrying a bag containing a towel and tanning lotion.

"I must be crazy Kenny." I whispered as we passed the gardener. "He’ll laugh at me."

Kenny took me by the hand and introduced me to the gardener, Mr. Doren. "This is my friend Leigh Anne," He said proudly. "Her mom’s our housekeeper."

Mr. Doren looked at me and smiled. "Nice to meet you Leigh Anne. I met your mom a few weeks ago, didn’t know she had such a pretty daughter. Easy to see where you get your looks from."

I felt all warm and fuzzy listening to him compliment mom and me. I knew it was weird that this man thought I was a pretty girl but still it felt so nice to have him say that to me! I couldn’t help myself; I smiled and thanked him!

After getting complimented by Mr. Doren I was walking on air; a complete stranger had seen me and thought that not only was I a girl but that I was a pretty girl! I couldn’t believe how good I felt as I chased Kenny around the pool, laughing, giggling, without a care in the world. After swimming I got Kenny to put lotion on me so I could lie in the warm sun and read. It was the best time I’d had since we moved; I couldn’t wait to use the pool again.

As I walked back to the house I saw Mr. Doren again so I smiled and waved at him. I had the oddest thought as I passed; the next time I went swimming I could wear a different bathing suit, a two-piece one maybe, and see what he thought of me in it? Of course by the time I got changed I realized what a goofy idea it was. Was I nuts, trying to get some old guy to look at me and tell me that I was pretty? Wasn’t it bad enough that I let Kenny talk me into going out in public in a girl’s bathing suit? Still, it was sweet of Kenny to tell me that I was pretty, wasn’t it? One thing that I was certain of as I changed into a denim skirt and a top - I was getting very confused!

Mom was thrilled that I was getting out of the house, now it was practically impossible to keep me out of the pool, and asked if I’d mind if she took some pictures of me ("to remember Leigh Anne by," she said.) in my bathing suits. I was going to say no but after a couple of weeks of being told that I was pretty I think I was starting to wonder myself. After all, I was supposed to be a girl, and being pretty was a good thing for a girl to be, so why not let mom take a few pictures to remember this crazy time in our lives?

I had a great time posing in my bathing suits, my hair in different styles, and even got into posing for mom who reinforced my fun by telling me what a doll I was. Once I ran out of bathing suits, I rushed to my closet and helped mom use up another roll of film by modeling every skirt and dress I owned. I don’t know what gave me the courage but I even let mom take a couple of pictures of me in a baby doll nightgown that I had been too afraid to wear before.

The summer was finally over and I had to go back to school. Luckily, all the time I had spent sunbathing and shopping with mom had given me confidence to be Leigh Anne in school. Since I didn’t have gym class, I wouldn’t have to worry about being discovered and I felt so totally sure I could pass myself off as a girl, so off I went in a blue jumper, a white blouse, knee socks and saddle shoes, just another eighth grade girl.

I made a bunch of new friends at my new school, mostly girls, but there were a few boys who were nice and hung out with me and my friends once in a while. We sat together at lunch, had most of our classes together, walked home together, and sometimes I was even allowed to invite them to swim. Getting used to being a girl also made it easier for me to get used to dad as a woman. I remember how upset I used to get with her when we first made the switch; it seemed like my new mom was pushing my dad further and further away and taking over. She wore pretty clothes, makeup, and perfume without a second thought and was always concerned about how nice she looked. It bugged me that my dad could do such things so easily even though he told me over and over that it was something he had to do.

Now I was wearing dresses and stuff just like mom. She taught me that it could be fun to wear pretty dresses, lace trimmed panties and bras, and she even let me start wearing a little makeup like the other girls I hung out with. I even started to go to dances at school but there was still no way I was going to slow dance with a boy, unless he was really, really cute that is!

Yeah, that’s right, if the boy were really cute, say with wavy hair and maybe big blue eyes, I’d slow dance with him. I mean why not? All of my girlfriends slow danced with cute guys and I was getting awfully tired of standing on the side while they had fun. It wasn’t like I was going to let them feel me up, or French kiss with them; I just thought it was way cool to dance with a cute boy.

Actually, I don’t really know why I want to dance with boys or even when I started to think they were cute. I noticed that I was feeling funny around certain boys; my heart would beat faster, my stomach would sometimes churn, and I started smiling and giggling a lot more. I figured that since I was hanging around with girls all the time, I was starting to think a little bit like they did. No big deal, once I go back to being Larry and hanging with guys I’ll go back to thinking like a guy. Meanwhile, there were all kinds of cute guys to dance with!

Mom was doing a great job for the Post’s, I heard Mr. Post telling her that his house was never cleaner and that no one had ever made better meals than she did. It was kind of funny watching mom blush as Mr. Post complimented her; dad had always been a real take charge kind of guy, never letting anything bother him, but mom smiled and blushed not seeming to know how to respond.

I got a chance to make a few extra bucks by babysitting Kenny when Mr. Post had parties in the evenings. Mom was busy serving for the party and I was left with nothing to do so Mr. Post asked if I could use a few extra dollars.

What girl can’t use some extra bucks now and then? There were so many cute outfits at the mall and Christmas was coming up so I told him I’d be happy to baby-sit the little guy. We were getting to be good buddies by then, he did me a favor by bringing me out of my shell over the summer and he always made me feel so good when he told me how pretty I was so I would probably have watched him for way less than Mr. Post paid me. It sure looked like mom and I had finally found that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I was walking home from school one afternoon when I saw a bunch of kids standing in a circle. Being nebby, I stopped to check things out and saw two older boys pushing Kenny around. I’d seen the older boys at school and knew they were a couple of bullies; always picking on the little kids and the girls. Watching them shove my little buddy around though was getting me super PO’d. I pushed through the ring of kids and caught Kenny, as he was about to fall.

"Why don’t you morons pick on someone your own size, afraid you might get hurt?" I asked the closest one. "Leave my little buddy alone."

This kid wasn’t getting any marks for brains as he stepped forward and shoved his face into mine. "What ya gonna do if we don’t?" He was practically spitting on me, which I found totally gross. "Is the little girl gonna kick me in the shins?"

This jerk had the door wide open, the light was on and the red carpet was rolled out to welcome me, what was a girl to do?

"Nope," I smiled as I rammed my forehead into his. "I was thinking more along these lines!"

The jerk screamed in pain and clutched his forehead. It bothered me that he was still standing so I swept his legs with my foot and put him on the ground in a heap. "Come to think of it though, kicking could be kind of fun."

Just then the other goof grabbed my hand and started to twist it. "Beg me to stop!" He sneered.

This jerk wasn’t overly bright either; thinking he had a weak little girl he didn’t tighten his grip. I quickly freed my hand, grabbed his, flipped it backwards and applied pressure. "Nah, that’s no fun, let’s hear you beg." I laughed as he screamed and squirmed. I guess he wasn’t use to much pain cause after only a minute he was crying and had wet his pants.

"Be nice to my little buddy or I’ll get rough next time." I called cheerily as I pushed Kenny ahead of me.

"That was so cool." Kenny said as we walked. "Where did you learn that stuff?"

"My dad thought it might be good to know so he enrolled me in self-defense classes when I was your age. I never bothered with it much before."

Kenny wouldn’t shut up all the way home; his mouth was non-stop about how great I was and how glad he was that I was his friend. I wished he’d shut up; it was making me feel so bad that I had once been mean and nasty to him. I guess helping him was just my way of apologizing since I never really did before.

Naturally Kenny told his dad all about what I had done and I was forced to sit there like a good girl while Mr. Post and mom heaped praise on me. I have to admit that it turned out pretty good though; the next day Mr. Post handed me a five hundred dollar gift certificate to the most popular clothing store in the mall! I was thrilled thinking of all the hot looking outfits I could buy; I’d been dying for a leather skirt and some great looking boots I’d seen at the store and they also sold this great looking purse that I just knew would look perfect with the skirt and boots. I begged mom until she agreed to take me there that evening.

There’s nothing like the sensation of having a bundle of money to spend on clothes to make a girl feel good and this girl was feeling great. I had a few unpleasant thoughts about what I was going to do with the clothes when I went back to being a boy but I was determined not to let sad things interfere with my shopping. I pushed myself on and soon had the skirt, boots, and purse I wanted along with several pairs of jeans and tops.

I couldn’t wait for the next school dance, with a little makeup that mom let me wear and my new skirt and boots, I had lots of offers to dance from the cutest guys in school. I was having so much fun and the boys were so sweet; why had I been so upset when mom originally started making a girl out of me. I’m sure it was awfully hard for her to take the boy she loved and make him a girl out of him but I know she had to do it and now I’m glad she did. I probably won’t be a girl for much longer, it was only supposed to last for two years and six months of that time was already past. Soon I’d be Larry again; wearing boxer shorts and jeans, my long curly hair will be short and straight, no one would ever remember Leigh Anne, the cute daughter of Mr. Post’s housekeeper. It seemed a little bit sad in a way; it took a lot for me to get used to being a girl, I had to get used to the silky underwear, dresses, stockings, and heels. I take shorter steps than I did as Larry and I have to worry about how I sit and all kinds of other stuff that weren’t important when I was a boy. You know what though? It’s not that bad. Sure, I started to shave my legs and pits lately but I had to if I wanted to look good in sleeveless tops and dresses. No one wants to see a girl’s hairy armpits and hairy legs look so gross sticking out of a short skirt so shaving was just something I had to do. Mom shaves her legs and pits every day so she can look pretty. She even has to get up a whole hour early so that she can put on her makeup and do her hair; shaving my pits and legs isn’t much compared to all that she has to do. So I got used to dresses and silky underwear, I shave my pits and legs, I have long curly hair, and I wear a little makeup but that’s just what I have to do to fit in. I’ve gotten so used to it and it ahs gotten to be kind of fun being a girl; I wonder what switching back is going to be like? Will I miss wearing pretty clothes and silky underwear? I kind of like fixing my hair and wearing makeup; it’s so neat to make my self pretty, what will it be like to be a plain boy again? There are so many things that kind of upset me but for now I’m not going to worry about them. I have to be a girl for another year and a half and it’s going to be a super year and a half, I just know it!

Christmas was just great! Mom bought me my very own makeup kit so now I won’t have to borrowing her stuff. She had some pretty cool stuff but it was old lady makeup; lots of dark lipstick, eye shadow that I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, and her taste in perfume wouldn’t get me a look from the loneliest geek at school. My makeup kit had lots of bright colors and a whole section of the brush on glitter blush that all my girlfriends raved about. I had the hottest lipstick colors, pink blush, and eye shadow to match practically every outfit I owned. Mom was sweet enough to also buy me the latest CD’s by Enrique Iglesias, the Backstreet Boys, and N’Sync, groups I thought sucked when I was Larry but now sounded great. They not only sounded great but some of them were totally hot looking too! Funny how six months of pretending to be a girl can make you think like one but somehow it did. I was totally bummed out the first time I looked at a poster of Enrique and thought he was cute but the more I looked at his poster and listened to my girlfriends making a fuss, the more I seemed to think the same way. That was about three months ago and now I just know that I’d die for a kiss from Enrique or Justin Timberlake. I hope I can forget about them when I go back to being Larry cause I’d die if I got all worked up over a Justin Timberlake poster while I was with a bunch of guys. Right now though he’s just so cute and adorable!

Kenny, the little sweetie, gave me a bottle of perfume for Christmas. I wonder if he talked to mom or some other lady cause it’s exactly the kind the hottest girls in school wear and I was saving my babysitting money to buy a small bottle. A little bit of that perfume with one of my miniskirts and you can be sure that I’d get some attention at a dance.

Mr. Post’s gift was great though – three front row seats to the Enrique concert coming up at the beginning of March! I don’t remember ever mentioning how cute I thought Enrique was to him, maybe he heard it from mom or Kenny but either way I’m going to give him a great big kiss the next time I see him. I am such a lucky girl to know people like the Post’s; Kenny is the sweetest little guy in the whole world and his dad is super too! They’ve been so nice to mom and I; we’re almost family to them instead of their housekeeper and her daughter. I sometimes feel so bad about what we used to do to them but then again, if we hadn’t been so mean, mom wouldn’t have a job she thinks she’s way overpaid for and I wouldn’t have a closet filled with pretty outfits or these front row seats to the biggest concert

I used to hate the stuff in my closet when mom and I first came here. It made me sick to think that my dad and I were going to become a couple of sissies just because we were having a little fun. I wore nothing but plain shorts for the first couple of weeks before my mom came. After that she insisted that I start wearing the satin shorts, which after a while I started to like since they felt so nice on my butt, especially when mom insisted I also wear nylon or satin panties. I couldn’t tell mom that I liked them though, not cause I was afraid she’d think that I was a sissy but because I was afraid that she’d go overboard and make me into some silly little girl like she threatened to do the one time. I could handle pretending to be a girl, I got used to wearing girl’s stuff a lot faster than I thought I would, but it scared me the way she looked at me sometimes, like she really wanted a little girl to dress up in party dresses and stuff like that. I worked hard to be just like any normal thirteen-year-old girl and make mom think I liked it. After a couple of months though, especially after I started school, I noticed that I was starting to act like a girl without trying. I looked forward to the shopping trips with mom; I enjoyed looking pretty for Sunday services, and I even asked her to show me how to shave my legs and pits since they were starting to look hairy. The more I hung out with my girlfriends, the more I liked pretending to be a girl. Dresses were fun, stockings felt great, and I quit wearing cotton panties to mom’s delight.

Yep, here it was, six months after I became a sweet girl and dad became a lady. It’s Christmas, my gifts were the greatest but I can’t wait to see mom’s face when she opens hers. I think she’ll like it, it’s exactly the right size, the color is perfect, and she’s going to look hot if I can get her to wear it. It’s a black satin camisole style top with spaghetti straps and a band of nylon around the top. It will look super with the red jacket and slacks outfit she bought just before Christmas. Sure, she bought a regular white blouse to wear with that outfit but that blouse doesn’t do a thing for her. The top I bought for her will not only make her look great but the lady in the store said it would make her feel sexy too!

It’s silly in a way but I want mom to feel sexy. She’s worked hard and gave up so much to be a lady so that we could get out of jail. She’s pretty, and she always acts like a lady, but I’ve read that it’s important for a woman to think of herself as being sexy too. I think that once mom sees how sexy she looks when she wears my gift she’ll be even happier than she is now.

I watched quietly as mom opened her other gifts; a bottle of perfume from Kenny (smart kid, he bought her the kind that they claim makes a woman feel sexy and desirable. I hope she uses it when she wears my gift.), and a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant from Mr. Post. She smiled and set the other gifts aside and reached for mine. I wondered if she could hear my heart as it pounded in my chest?

She carefully undid the wrapping paper and ribbon and lifted the lid. Gently pushing aside the inner wrapping she gasped when she saw the top.

"It’s so pretty Leigh!" She gushed as she held it against her chest. "It’s awfully sexy and I just know I’ll love it!"

"The lady in the store said it would make you feel sexy and sensual mom, is that right?"

Mom was staring at her reflection in the mirror grinning. "Oh Leigh, it’s lovely. I’m sure I feel sexy and sensual too, I just don’t know where I’ll ever be able to wear it to."

"Why don’t you wear it to that place Mr. Post gave you a gift certificate for? It sounds fancy enough to wear something like that to." I suggested. "There might even be some guys who would dance with you."

"Aren’t you afraid I might like getting all prettied up and dancing with men?"

"No, I wear pretty outfits and dance with boys all the time. Why shouldn’t you have fun too?"

Mom agreed that she should have fun too, after all, she never really went anywhere and it had to be boring her to stay around the house. I bet she’ll have lots of guys want to dance with her.

Mom waited for a couple of weeks before she decided to wear my present. She said she’d made friends with a few women she’d met at my school and that they were planning a Girl’s Night Out. She took an extra long bath that evening and I noticed that she had set out some of her sexiest lingerie. When I asked about it she said that it was her first time out socially as a woman and that she wanted to feel extra feminine, just like I did when I went to dances. It made perfect sense so I told her to have a good time and stay out as long as she liked.

"I thought you were my daughter." She laughed after my lecture. "When did you become my mother?"

"No sneaking off to a dark corner with a guy, no fooling around in a guys car, and absolutely no French kissing!" I ordered with a smile. "But don’t forget to have fun."

Mom gave me a quick kiss before grabbing a small clutch bag and walking out the door. Part of me seemed to want to call her back, to keep her from enjoying herself as a woman but it seemed like a silly idea so I forgot all about it. She did look prettied than I’d ever seen her and so happy.

Mom had a great time that night; she and her friends went to dinner and a movie, which she described as being so romantic. She said that the leading man was such a hunk, which bothered me for a second or two until I decided that it was perfectly normal for a single woman to feel that way. I couldn’t imagine any guy mom’s age being nearly as adorable as Enrique or Justin but I guess there’s no accounting for the way old women felt.

Mom must have had a good time that night cause she started going out two or three times a month after that. I was glad to see her get out; it seemed to make her so much happier and gave her a chance to let her hair down and enjoy being pretty and sex looking. It would all be over soon and dad would be back but until then I thought it would be a blast to watch mom shake her booty!

Mom did her best to have fun after making sure that I wouldn’t mind. She even accepted a couple of dates with guys she’d met on her Girl’s Night outings. I was worried at first but like always, the more I thought about it the more I realized that I was being selfish. Mom couldn’t very well approach another woman and ask for a date; Mr. Post would probably have a baby and she’d lose her job. Sure she had her outing with her girlfriends but it looked strange that a pretty, single, lady like mom didn’t accept any of the offers to date. My girlfriends and I went skating and to the movies in groups that included boys, why couldn’t mom have a little fun too?

Mom’s starting to date seemed to be having some weird effect on me; after school I’d go to her room and spend time trying on her lingerie, practicing with makeup and hairstyles, then getting all dolled up in some of her clothes. Mom thought it was sweet and said that it was normal for a young girl to try to emulate her mother; it was how girls learned to be ladies, she told me. I was confused though; I wasn’t really a girl and there wasn’t any real need for me to learn how to become a lady since I wasn’t about to grow up and become one. I couldn’t figure it out but it was a lot of fun and since mom didn’t mind, I just kept playing dress-up whenever I got a chance. I loved wearing some of mom’s sexy lingerie; it felt so much nicer to wear her lace panties and garter belts than my underwear and pantyhose. After a little bit of practice I could change from a thirteen year old to look like I was closer to eighteen or so. All I needed to do was to set my hair a little differently, use mom’s darker lipstick and blush, a smoky eye shadow, and some of her jewelry and I looked pretty grown up. Make that very pretty, and grown up!

By the time summer rolled around I was starting to notice a change in me. I noticed a little puffiness in my chest a few months earlier but I thought I was gaining weight because mom liked to practice making rich deserts for Mr. Post’s parties and I was her more than willing Guinea pig when it came to taste test them. Now though when I tried on my bathing suit I noticed that although my butt was rounder and I seemed to be growing boobs, my stomach and legs were still the same size as always.

Maybe not my legs, they seemed to be a little bit heavier and boy did they ever look good when I wore a dress and stockings! Instead of the skinny, boy legs I used to have I had nice curvy ones, just like my girlfriends. What was really weird is that I wasn’t upset about having curvy legs and a body; I stood in front of the mirror in my bra and panties and liked what I saw! I did think there was one little problem though; I’d have to check with mom about getting larger bras, my old ones were starting to squish my new boobs! I wondered how she’d react; would she freak that I seemed to be growing breasts? They weren’t actually breasts, just a little more fat than I had before that was making it look as though I had breasts. Either way I was uncomfortable and needed new bras.

Mom didn’t even bat an eye when I told her I needed new bras. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, those pills that keep Mr. Happy under control tend to make you put no a little weight."

"They sure do." I tittered. "My butt’s a little bigger and my legs are gorgeous. How come my stomach’s not bigger though?"

"Men gain weight in their stomachs, women gain it in their butts, and hips. You’re starting to develop the way a girl your age would."

The idea of developing like any other girl my age didn’t bug me in the least; truthfully, I was a little excited that I might start to look like the older girls at school. The boys at school always paid more attention to the girls with bigger chests; I knew a lot of them were nothing more than tissue and wishful thinking but boys still liked them. If I had breasts I could wear some of the sexy looking tops I saw in the junior’s department and the boys would be more interested in me too.

"Forget it Leigh." Mom quickly added. "Those pills only counter your male hormones and you don’t have enough female hormones to fully develop as a girl"

I seemed to get stuck on the words "Develop as a girl". They were rocketing around in my head, bouncing around and interfering with my other thoughts. What would it be like to really be a girl, I found myself wondering. Would I like having real breasts, not just these puffy little mounds of fat? What about sports? I always enjoyed watching baseball and car racing, would being a real girl change all of that? I already liked dancing with boys and thought a few were cute so it wouldn’t be much of a stretch for me to go on dates, marrying one was still a bit odd though but who knows?

"Hi Leigh, care to tell me what you’re thinking?" Mom prodded as I gazed blankly into a rack of bras. "Anything special I could help with?"

"I dunno mom, it’s just a weird feeling I’ve been having lately." I said with a shrug. "I keep wondering what it would be like to be a real girl."

Mom’s face changed into an odd mix of surprise and happiness. "I thought you couldn’t wait to go back to being Larry again."

I tried to explain as best I could. At first I hated being a girl; girls were weak, they giggled and laughed at the dumbest things, they preferred games where no one won like house instead of baseball. After being Leigh Anne for a year though I saw things that I liked about being a girl; I didn’t have to act like a jerk and prove how tough I was, I could cry if something upset me, or I could laugh and giggle if I thought something was funny. I’d gotten used to wearing pretty clothes and I loved playing dress-up with mom clothes and makeup. Kenny had been someone to torment when I was Larry, he was just some snooty rich kid; now he was a sweet kid that thought the world of me just as I did him. I could never have expressed the feelings I have for him as a boy but now, as a girl, it’s okay if I give him a hug now and then or tell him that he’s a sweetie. I couldn’t exactly say that I wanted to stay a girl but then again I wasn’t absolutely sure I wanted to be a boy again.

Mom said she was surprised; she was sure I couldn’t wait to switch back. She said that she’d think about what I’d told her and try to think of some way to help me. In the meantime though we could start with getting me the new bras I needed and maybe a new dress or two. She said that shopping was supposed to be a good way for girls to pick up their spirits.

I know a lot of girls don’t like dresses but I wasn’t one of them. Once I got used to dressing like a girl I really enjoyed wearing a pretty dress or a skirt outfit. It’s hard to explain but I liked the way they made me feel pretty. Sure I had to keep my legs shaved and I couldn’t just flop down on a chair but for some reason the extra steps of smoothing out my skirt, crossing my legs, or pulling down the hem of my skirt made me feel good. It set me apart from boys and made me something special.

A couple of days later mom told me she had a few ideas to help me. Since I was already wearing girl’s clothes and pretending to be a girl she thought it would be helpful to make me more of a girl. I thought she meant the big operation at first and was terrified. Mom laughed and explained that I might want to start doing more exclusively girl type stuff like becoming a majorette or cheerleader or maybe even a ballerina.

"It’s hard to imagine that you’d feel very much like a boy when you’re wearing a frilly ballerina outfit, don’t you think?"

"That’s exactly it mom!" I screamed in delight. "I want something that only a girl can do, something that no boy would ever think of doing. It has to be something that makes me feel all girly!"

We tossed around a couple of ideas and finally settled on my signing up for charm classes and ballet lessons. Mom thought the charm classes would help me act more like a young lady and I loved the idea of wearing a frilly ballerina outfit. If everything worked out and I liked it, I could sign up to be a cheerleader the next term at school. Wearing a cheerleader uniform would chase away any feelings of being a boy that the ballet and charm classes may have missed.

Before long I was spending three days a week in leotards learning the stretching exercises necessary for ballet and another day in charm class learning to be a proper young lady. After a couple of weeks I had a lot of sore muscles from the ballet lessons, (Who knew girls had to exercise? I thought dancing was an easy thing girl’s just instinctively knew how to do.), but I also found that I liked ballet and was getting to be good at it and the charm classes were relentlessly polishing off any rough tomboy mannerisms that I had. By the end of summer I was well on my way to becoming an accomplished ballerina and I had become a very poised young woman.

I had a graduation ceremony at the end of my Charm classes and I couldn’t wait to show mom how much I’d changed. During the ceremony each girl, dressed in identical white strapless gowns and heels would receive her diploma then walk a thirty-foot runway to show the audience how ladylike she’d become. Mom bought me three-inch heels for my gown and my first garter belt and stockings set. She told me that she wanted to help me concentrate on being the perfect lady as I walked out into the audience. I was crying like a baby as I opened the box with my new nylons; I had the sweetest mother in the whole world!

I spent the day at a very chic beauty shop, courtesy of Mr. Post, and had my hair, nails, and makeup done for my big night. My hair was absolutely beautiful; upswept with long strands of curls on each side, I looked and felt like a high fashion model. All the primping didn’t help my nerves though and by the time we left in Mr. Post’s car I was about to go crazy.

"You look like a beautiful lady Leigh Anne." Kenny told me as he stared at my face and hair. "I hope I marry somebody as pretty as you when I grow up."

No wonder I loved him so much; he always said the nicest things and seemed to have a special knack for calming me down when I was upset. I leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Don’t you dare wipe that off you little stinker!" I laughed. "Cause if you do, I put on the darkest lipstick I can find and give you a big smooch right before you go into school. Or maybe in front of your friends?"

"I won’t wipe this off, I promise. Maybe your mom could take my picture so I can always remember the kiss from a pretty lady."

I wanted to hug him so tight and smother the little charmer with kisses but I didn’t want to ruin my makeup. I promised to get him later though!

I joined the rest of the girls in the back of the stage where we checked our gowns, hair, and makeup while we waited anxiously for our names to be called. We stared nervously at the runway; we’d walked it at least a dozen times during our class but that night it seemed so much longer. I’m sure the other girls shared my worries; would I put my foot down wrong and lose my balance? Would my gown get caught on the heel of my shoe, causing me to fall into the audience? We were all about the same age and not well endowed, I know we all hoped that we had big enough breasts to prevent the tops of our gowns from falling down about our waists.

I stared at my fingernails, filed to a perfectly shaped oval, glistening with pearl white polish to match my gown. Suddenly I started to wonder what I was doing. I’m a thirteen-year-old boy for heavens sake, I should be playing catch, or tackle football, but I know I shouldn’t be standing here, all prettied up, wearing a gown, ready to get my charm school diploma! I felt so sick; I thought about running away, leaving this craziness behind, putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and going back to being Larry, a normal teen age boy again.

Where would I go though? I still had a year left on my sentence; would the judge be willing to call it a wash? No, not likely; he seemed totally pissed the last time we met. With my luck he’d have me sent to that place mom went to and turn me into a little princess. Then again, would that be so bad, I wondered? After all, little girls do get to wear the sweetest looking dresses. Maybe mom would enter me into a pageant where I could wear a pretty dress and maybe even a little makeup. I’d sing a song or maybe do a dance number and the judges would think I was so cute and adorable!

I fought to come back to sanity, to being a boy, but I couldn’t help it; deep down inside, I just didn’t feel like a boy! I hated to admit it but I enjoyed getting my hair and nails done for my graduation. It was so nice to have the ladies at the beauty shop making a fuss over me and telling me how pretty I looked. I felt so happy when I changed into the new panties and bra set mom had bought me; the panties were all lace except for a triangle of fabric at the front and the bra cups (32A no less, a whole cup size bigger than my first bra and no padding!) half lace and half satin felt absolutely yummy against my breasts. My dress was made of several layers of sheer fabric with a silky liner under it all and made me feel so good as mom helped lower it over my head.

That’s not even adding in the fantastic feelings I got from my new ultra sheer nylons or the tug I felt as I walked, reminding me of the pretty garter belt I was wearing which made me feel so grown up. Who was I kidding? I simply adored being a girl! I checked my lipstick one last time, adjusted my gown, and waited like the good girl I was for my name to be called. I looked into audience and saw mom sitting there looking elegant in a full skirted black dress that was cut low enough to show a little cleavage. She wore a strand of pearls and matching earrings that perfectly set off her dress and her perfectly crossed legs seemed to be drawing a number of glances from Mr. Post. I giggled, wondering if she knew that her boss was checking her out. Did he do the same thing when she was at work or was he just captivated by her beauty tonight? I could understand why men would look at mom, she moved with a grace that took me weeks of charm school to match and her mannerisms showed nothing of the man she had been a short year ago. She had become a beautiful, graceful, lady. Always well dressed in stylish outfits, her hair and makeup always right for the occasion, she had the talent of a chef, the efficiency a CEO could only hope for in his firm, and kept house better than a Hotel full of maids. All that and she had this weird ability to come off as the sexiest babe on two feet.

A nudge knocked me out of my daydream. "Take a deep breath and calm down Leigh Anne" The lady in charge whispered. "You’re next."

Of course she had no way of knowing that I was calmer than I’d been in thirteen years, I made up my mind that there was no way Larry would ever return. Leigh Anne, the sweet young daughter of the lovely Ms. Diana Brandt, was here to stay. I’d use mom as my role model, if I could be half as pretty and sweet as she was no one would ever remember a boy named Larry.

My name was called; I held my head up, threw back my shoulders, and glided onto the stage as if I were an actress receiving her Academy Award. I smiled, took my diploma, and with all the grace I could draw on, walked slowly to the end of the runway, executed what I thought was a perfect bow with one hand holding my skirt back and away from my body. I then turned and head held high, walked back and took my place in line with the girls who had gone before me.

It was all over so quickly and we were in the car about to head home when Mr. Post suggested we stop for a bite to eat. I noticed a quick glance and smile directed to him from mom but it wasn’t until we pulled to the valet parking area of the best restaurant in town did I realize that it had all been planned.

"Mr. Post and I were so proud of how pretty you look and the way you handled yourself tonight that when he offered to take us to dinner, I just had to accept." Mom explained as we were ushered to a perfectly set table in the middle of the floor. I didn’t have to tax my brain too hard to figure that the whole thing was meant to put me on display. Here I was, in a beautiful gown, mom positively stunning in her outfit, escorted by Mr. Price and his son who just happened to be wearing suits, sitting in the most obvious table in the place. I had been set up but I loved it!

Mr. Post waved off the waiter and with a smile held mom’s chair while Kenny hurried over to get mine. We smiled at our gallant hosts, swept our skirts, and sat down in unison. As soon as Mr. Post and Kenny sat down, I noticed Mr. Post nod to our waiter who smiled and walked away, returning moments later with a bouquet of roses, which he handed to Kenny who then presented them to me.

I was practically in tears. "I told you I’d get you later you sweetheart," I whispered before grabbing him and giving him a big kiss on the cheek. "You are going to be a real heartbreaker when you grow up!"

Kenny’s face turned as red as my roses but he never flinched, and never tried to wipe away my lip prints. He stood tall, smiling and relishing the attention he was getting from diners around us. What a doll, if he were a few years older I’d give anything to be his girl.

After we ate Mr. Post smiled and asked mom if she’d like to dance. Mom smiled and with the grace of a cat, took his hand and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. It cracked me up watching, remembering that no one, but no one, ever told dad what to do yet here he was in a pretty dress, stockings and heels, smiling and being as docile as a sheep. As Mr. Post put his arm around her waist and drew her close I saw a smile briefly flit across mom’s face. Could she really be enjoying the attention from a handsome man?

The instant that I pushed back on my chair, Kenny was there to hold it for me, just like I expected. The look of surprise on his face as I took him by the hand and led him to the dance floor was priceless!

"I’m jealous," I teased. "Mom’s got a handsome man to dance with and I don’t. Would you honor me with a dance?"

"Certainly ma’m." Kenny answered without hesitation. He put his arm around my waist and let me rest my head on his shoulder as he confidently led me around the floor. Was there any limit to the surprises from this kid?

As Kenny and I danced I kept a close eye on mom and Mr. Post. Mom seemed totally content to be held and led about and Mr. Post’s smile told me that he was quite proud of the lovely woman in his arms. I started to think that they made a really great couple and that’s when it hit me. If I stayed as Leigh Anne but dad came back I’d miss the closeness I’d come to love over the past year. I couldn’t imagine going shopping with dad to buy pretty outfits and I knew he’d never let me do his hair or nails the way mom did. What would I do when I needed a nice blouse to wear and was sick of everything in my closet? Borrow one of dad’s? Not likely. All the fun of playing dress-up in mom’s sexy lingerie and pretty dresses would be gone if dad came back. Would dad get lonely for his son and want Larry back? I knew that was something I could never give him no matter how much he wanted it so something would have to give. Of course that something would be dad, I couldn’t let him come back and ruin the bond I’d developed with my mother.

As I danced with Kenny and then with Mr. Post I started to develop a plan. I had to find out where mom had gotten that CD that gave her the ability to make me think and do whatever she wanted. If I could get something like that for her, I could prevent dad from ever coming back. I’d get mom to listen to it and then I’d tell her that she loved being a woman, it was what she always wanted, and that she should forget all about ever being a man again. Once that was done, I’d give Mr. Post a similar CD that would make him fall in love with mom and want to marry her. Another small suggestion to mom and we’d all be one big happy family. All I had to do was figure out how to get a CD to start things rolling.

With school starting I was able to talk mom into buying a PC to use for my class work. I doubt if she knew that it was going to be the key to my plans success.

Several weeks after my graduation from charm school I was in mom’s room playing dress-up when I ran across the CD she’d used to make me obey her. I checked it out very carefully and was thrilled to find a reference to a company’s web site where I could order what I needed. Once I talked mom into buying the PC, I was set to put my plan into action.

One day after school I logged onto the company’s web site and found exactly what I needed; CD’s that I knew mom and Mr. Post enjoyed and I was sure they’d never suspect. They’d cost me a months worth of babysitting money but they’d be worth their weight in gold. All mom and Mr. Post had to do was to start to listen and they’d be unable to stop until the damage was done. I could use trigger phrases to control them; mom would never even think about being a man again and Mr. Post would fall hopelessly in love with her. Since I got home from school before mom finished work I wasn’t worried about getting caught but it didn’t make my hands tremble any less as I typed in my order.

When the mail carrier knocked on my door that afternoon I nearly died from fright. My package was finally here and it was time to start my plan. I paid for the package and ran to my room where I could hide it in case mom came home unexpectedly. I examined them carefully, read and re-read the instructions a dozen times until I could see them with my eyes closed.

I gave mom her CD that evening; she was thrilled; it was her favorite group and said that she couldn’t wait to listen to it as she went to sleep. I couldn’t wait for the next morning when I’d try a simple command to see if it had worked.

"Hi mom, sleep well last night?" I asked as I sat down for breakfast. "How was the CD?"

"I slept like a baby," Mom smiled. "The CD was great, my favorite group."

"Just my way of saying thanks for charm school and ballet class." I said with a smile. "Don’t forget my recital this weekend."

Just as she was about to speak I used the control phrase and told her that she should bring a date, Mr. Post as a matter of fact. I didn’t get his CD to him yet but I couldn’t imagine him turning mom down if she asked him to come.

"I wouldn’t miss it for the world." She nodded. "But would you mind if I brought a date?"

"See if he has a cute son for me!" I joked. Perfect, she’d do anything I wanted.

On the way home from school I ran into Kenny and asked him to give his dad the CD I bought for him. "Tell him I wanted to thank him for taking me and mom to dinner."

Kenny tucked the CD into his knapsack and promised to give it to his dad. That was all I’d need to control both mom and Mr. Post, for their own good of course.

The night of my recital Mr. Post showed up looking as handsome as ever to escort my beautiful mom and me to the recital. I’d given mom a few suggestions to warm up to Mr. Post and she began acting on them as soon as we got in the car, preferring to sit with him up front while I sat in the back, alone. While I was onstage, dancing in my white leotard and gauzy pink dress, I glanced down and saw Mr. Post holding mom’s hand and whispering to her. Whatever he was saying was bringing smiles to mom’s face; I just hoped they were talking about their future together. Later, I purposely left my purse in Mr. Post’s car to have a reason to see him alone. I quickly hit him with his control phrase and suggested that mom was the only woman he could ever really love. My mission complete, I retrieved my purse and went home.

Before calling it a night I threw a few more suggestions at mom; she enjoyed being a beautiful woman, she loved feeling feminine, sexy, and desirable. She smiled, nodded, and seemed lost in thought as I left her. It was almost too easy, I remember thinking just before I went to sleep.

Everything was going so well, mom and Mr. Post were hitting it off fabulously even though he had yet to propose. I kept suggesting it to him and suggesting to mom to accept but nothing was happening. One day, out of frustration, I got them both together and used both control phrases. I told Mr. Post that he had to propose to mom within twenty-four hours and told mom that she must accept.

"Who are you to be telling us what to do, young lady?" Mom stunned me by asking. "And how dumb do you think we are that we’d listen to those rigged CD’s you gave us?"

"I think your daughter would make a cute little girl, don’t you Dee?" Mr. Post asked as his eyes bored into me.

"You’re absolutely right as usual Jack dear," Mom smiled as she kissed him right on the lips. "I’ll make all the arrangements."

"Hold on, you mean you two knew?"

"We’re not stupid Leigh," Mr. Post grinned. "Your mom tipped me off the night you gave her that CD. You never bothered to notice that the company "Under Control" has their logo on the CD case. It’s a dead giveaway."

"So now what." I asked dejectedly. "You’re not going to make a little girl out of me, are you?"

"Although you would be a cute addition to our family, we’ve worked too hard to get you this far." Mom smiled and took Mr. Post’s hand.

"I guess we should be the ones apologizing to you Leigh." She said. "We’ve been suggesting that you remain a girl for our own selfish reasons."

I was amazed to learn that dad had spent his entire life wanting to be a woman. He’d fought the feeling since he was a little boy dressing in his mother’s clothes but it wouldn’t go away, not even after he married and I was born. He was miserable with his life but felt an obligation to my real mom to stick it out as her husband and my father. Her death and his feelings pushed him over the edge, he was determined to be a real man but being a real man always seemed to elude him. He drank and fought and pushed me to me the obnoxious boy I had been, all in a vain attempt to prove that he could be a man. When we were sentenced to be mother and daughter for two years, he thought his dreams had come true. Finally, he could be free to be the woman he had always wanted to be.

"They didn’t brainwash me at that clinic Leigh, they didn’t have to; I was more than willing to be a pretty, submissive housekeeper for the Post’s. When you started acting up, I was afraid that my dream was slipping away again so I used that CD on you. Ever since, I’ve been planting suggestions in your head to make you want to be a girl."

"I fell in love with your mom last Christmas." Mr. Post told me. "When she confided her fears about you, she accidentally revealed your control phrase. I’ve been planting little suggestions to make a girl out of you too."

Mom had been thrilled when I started to take the pill to keep Mr. Happy under control; she was sure that it would calm me down and make it easier to turn me into a girl. She had planted suggestions to make me think that boys could be cute and want to go to the dances so that I would be more agreeable when she wanted to date. It tickled her silly to have me suggest that she go on dates! When I begged to try being more of a girl, she could barely control her glee.

"We owe you an apology Leigh." Mr. Post told me. "What we did was wrong, even if it was for the best possible reason."

"There will be no more suggestions that you become a girl, we promise." Mom said. "When our sentence is over, I’ll wipe out the ones that have been making you act like a girl and you can go back to being a boy again."

"What then mom? Mr. Post can’t have a male housekeeper."

"I’ll try to be the best father I can." Mom answered bravely but I could hear the strain in her voice. "We’ll manage somehow."

"Didn’t you say that you loved my mother, Mr. Post?" I asked point blank. "Did you mean that?"

He took mom’s hand and pulled her to him. Putting an arm around her he looked me in the eye. "Yes, I did say that Leigh. And of course I meant that. She can make me the happiest man on earth by marrying me."

"I can’t," Mom started to cry. "Larry needs me."

"Larry’s gone mom, forever. Leigh needs a mom; she thinks Mr. Post would be a great dad and Kenny would be the best little brother a girl could ever want."

"Are you serious?" Mom asked, biting her lip to keep from getting too excited. "You understand that you’d have to keep pretending?"

"If you want to marry Mr. Post you’ll have to give up a few things." I grinned. "I don’t want to keep pretending mom, I want to be a girl, just like you."

When our sentence was up the judge signed papers to legally change our names and our sex and even granted permission for me to have the surgery to change my sex. He said it was the damndest thing he’d ever heard of but he also agreed to marry mom and my dad to be.

One year later, Mom was mind-blowingly beautiful in an Ivory gown with sheer sleeves and a skirt that seemed to go on forever. She had on the sexiest white lingerie I’d ever seen and I just knew that my new dad was going to enjoy helping her out of it later that night.

As Maid of Honor, I wore a pale pink, tea length gown that showed off my cute shape that resulted from a year on female hormones. Mom let me wear a pink satin lace bra and panties set that made me feel wickedly pretty and ever so feminine.

Mr. Post and Kenny were absolute stud muffins in their black tuxes; I teased Kenny, telling him that I’d protect him from all the girls that would want to grab him and hug and kiss him. He didn’t mind the teasing at all; not only are we brother and sister, we’re also best friends. Any girl that wants to marry my little brother is going to have to meet the high standards of his big sister. That won’t be easy but my little brother is worth it!

Three years ago I was scared silly, pretending to be a girl while my dad masqueraded as a woman. We lived on the property of a family we had despised and I was desperately trying to hold onto my masculinity while unknowingly my dad was desperately trying to lose his.

Since then I lost my dad but gained a mother. I also gained a step-dad and a little brother, both of whom I love with all my heart. Of course we live in the main house now but mom still does all the housekeeping; she can’t bear to have another woman doing what she feels is her calling; taking care of the ones she loves.

Looking back, I suppose it seems very odd but who cares? Mom, dad, Kenny, and I have never been happier in our lives and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Karen Elizabeth L. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.