Crystal's StorySite

The true story of a brave, and truly sweet "girl"

by: Amanda and Julie


My mother had wanted, and prepared for, a baby girl. She had bought lots of frilly dresses and dolls, and furnished the nursery in pink in anticipation of the arrival of her new "daughter";…. but unfortunately ‘….

I was a major disappointment when I arrived. …. She named me Daniel.

My Mother was a Catholic, and I was born only six months after my father and Mother were married. My father, you see, had married the boss's daughter. My Mother was from upper class society, while my father was lower class blue collar, although he had gone on to college and became an engineer and architect.

My father was an outdoorsman, and hated wearing a suit; whereas my Mother was a truly fashionable society lady who hated the outdoors and was accustomed to having servants. … They seemed to be mismatched.

My father was away most of the time on building projects, so Mom was in complete charge of the household …. and me; and I became aware at a very early age of my Mother’s pointed disappointment with my gender. Her favorable comments to me were often girlish in nature, while when I was reprimanded I was reminded that I was still a "ruffian", a "scruffy ignoble", an "inferior", … a boy… I’d hear things like: .. "Do you HAVE to be such a filthy boy ? .. or what did I expect ? .. You are still just a little male, …. like your father." While when I was good, I’d hear: "Aren’t you so sweet ? What a sweet girl you’d make. It’s such a shame you aren’t." It was clear to me Mother would rather I had been born a girl, and as a small child seeking my Mother’s love and approval, I sometimes wished I was too…..

My Mother kept my hair long, and sometimes before she bathed me she would brush and comb it in a girlish style, and even tie it back with ribbons. I was little; and I loved the way mom looked at me and fussed over me then. It was these moments I recall when my mother was the most tender and nurturing, which wasn't all that often. My Mother could be quite demanding and dictatorial, and ruled the house.

My Mother decorated my room more like a girl's than a boy's, and even had a local artist come in and paint it like the "Wizard of Oz" in pink and pastels. I had ballerina lamps, and pink bed linen and lacy curtains. Dad objected; but when I remained silent to my Mother’s whims my Mother got her wish..

I can remember one weekend when I was three. My Father was away, as he usually was, when Mom called me into her room. She sat me beside her at her vanity, and proceeded to paint my fingernails pink. I was then forced to stay indoors and play, because a little boy couldn't go outside and play with pink fingernails. Later that evening mom brushed and fussed with my hair while telling me how pretty I looked. She tied my hair with a pink ribbon before putting me to bed. It was pleasant as I recall.

It wasn’t long after this then when Mom looked at me a little askew as she was bathing me. She put pink lipstick on me, and smiled. She stood me in front of the mirror as she combed my hair in different styles, and I looked at myself with pink, girl’s lips, with Mother smiling pleasantly.

As I grew a little older Mom would sometimes put a little more makeup besides lipstick on me at bath time; and my baths always smelled so pretty, as she often added some of her powders and oils to the water.

Now, I came to realize that boys and lipstick and ribbons didn't go together, but it pleased my Mother so much. So I didn't think too much about it, other than know it was a secret between Mother and me.

But despite these "peculiarities" I had a reasonably normal childhood, and had some normal boyhood friends and activities I was grudgingly allowed to play baseball, and other boyish pursuits, although Mother saw to it I was kept more fastidiously clean and neat than other boys. The one embarrassing thing Mother would do is make me wear the frilliest pinafore aprons sometimes when I got home from school. It was to protect my clothes, she said. My father grumbled about her putting me in lace and ribbons, but when Mom jumped all over him about who does the laundry and housework my father quickly retreated. These aprons had tons of lace and ribbons too. They were very girlish. She also saw to it my manners and mannerisms were molded into more like those of a girl than a boy.

I was growing up a boy, perhaps a slightly submissive, sometimes effeminate boy, but still a boy none the less ; …….. but then one day my life really changed….

My Father and Mother took separate vacations, and I had always gone with my Father, usually fishing, while Mother went visiting her female friends. This summer, however, Dad was away, and Mom was invited to a wedding. She was visibly upset and flustered over the fact that she couldn't find someone to watch me, or talk Father into taking me; …. but being away building a factory, there just no way he could this summer, despite his promises. Mom was quite unhappy. She went around muttering under her breath about being saddled with a boy; and how she was not about to take a ruffian boy to a nice wedding. Besides which, she was going to stay at a hotel that only allowed women. Living under my Mother's sometimes-stern supervision and her derogatory comments about me, and males in general, left my self-esteem rather low; and this semi-rejection depressed me further. I felt it was all my fault somehow. As the days closed in toward the wedding, she grew more irritable and desperate, while I looked to stay out of the way and simply agree with most anything she said. It was not a good time to annoy her further.

It was a few days later then when she came home with a load of packages. She called me sternly into the living room; and she had me help her carry them upstairs. As I unloaded them onto her bed she turned to me.

"Get undressed !" She ordered.

I was a bit confused; but I didn’t give a thought about disobeying her. She started opening the packages, and pulled out a very pretty, lacy party dress ! I stopped momentarily, and she looked annoyed with me.

"Hurry up …. Amanda…." She demanded.

Not sure what this was about, I nervously stripped to my shorts.

"Those too…." She sniped.

She pulled a pair of pink, lace trimmed, silky panties from a package, and held them out …. to me ! I took them, holding them in front of me. They were quite pretty, … and so delicately girlish, and silky to the touch……

"Well, … put them on !"

Imagine my embarrassment and flustration ! But I silently did as my mother told me. The silky fabric felt even nicer than in my hands as I pulled them on; and a little chill of excitement swept over me. Was I to be dressed in all these lacy girl clothes ? I didn’t have time to consider this turn of events, for when I looked up, Mother was on top of me with another girlish garment, and forced it over my arms and head. She straightened and smoothed it around my waist, and I looked down at the smooth, white, ribbon straps over my shoulders and the lace and girlish ribbon bow at my chest. The cool, smooth nylon with the pretty lace hem drifted to just above my knees. I was wearing a girl's slip, … a prettily trimmed, silky, shiny white slip! It felt so nice next to my skin; and it rippled like cool, milky waves to my touch. I was filled with all sorts of thoughts and emotions. I was a boy. I shouldn't be wearing such pretty, sissy things; but they felt and looked so nice; and Mother was … well … Mother. She was quite upset about having her plans messed up because of me; and I wasn’t about to antagonize her with questions. She could be quite volatile. Just then Mother's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Isn't this pretty, Amanda ?" She asked, holding up a frilly pink dress.

There was that name again, and I looked quizzically back at her.

"If I must take you with me, you will accompany me as my daughter, … Amanda." She explained.

"Now, hold your arms up"

My face burned with embarrassment as I held up my arms. Mother held up some girlish froth, and pulled it over my head. The next thing I knew I felt the dress drifting down my body. When I emerged from the soft whisperings I peered down at a very pretty green dress with ruffles at the hem, sleeves, and neck; … and my knees wobbled underneath me. Me ? … a girl ? …. I was going to go with her …. as a girl ? I struggled to grasp the scope of it all. …. I was going to have to live the next several days with her as a …<gulp>..girl ?

She handed me a pair of lace topped anklets next, a smile spreading across her face.

"How do you like your new dress Amanda ? ….' Pretty, isn't it ?" Her voice sang, melodically.

"Uh … yes Mother…." I shakily replied.

It was …. VERY pretty. It was such a frilly, sissy girl’s dress. It felt so smooth and cool to my nervous touch. It felt so delightful as Mother buttoned it in back, and then tied the sash in a neat, pretty bow. I could almost hear my Mother purring. Her sullen, irritable mood had somehow wondrously vanished.

She produced a pair of white shoes. They had a strap with a bow over the in-step, and felt tight as Mother helped me into them.

"I'm going to go with you ….. as a girl, Mommy ?" I questioned timidly, still wrestling with the concept as I watched the hem of the pretty green dress bobbing.

"Yes ! …. You will be my daughter, … Amanda." She replied, a little huffy.

You didn't question my Mother any further when she used that tone.

The dress even had a matching hat with white ribbons, which she fitted on my head. She had me turn around as she looked me over. She had me walk around the room for her; and the smooth, girlish dress with the pretty frills felt so enchanting. I blushed at such sissy feelings I had. My Mother then unbuttoned the dress in back and pulled it off.

"Let's try on your other things." She said.

There were a couple more dresses, and a blouse and skirt. I had to try them all on, with the soft fabrics and ruffles and lace floating about. Mother helped me in and out of the oodles of pretty things; and then she sat me down at her vanity in a pretty, soft white blouse and a flowered skirt. She started brushing my hair, and then picked up an electric curler, while I looked mesmerized at the soft girl in the mirror. The white blouse had lace ruffles down the front and around the collar; and a girlish blush flushed my cheeks at the sight of the straps and girlie crescents of my slip. The skirt was a pink floral print; and I looked up to see Mom pull a shiny pink satin ribbon around my new curls, and carefully tie a neat bow on top of my head. She squirted my neck, and then my wrist with a lovely perfume.

"Ok Amanda, … now I want you to learn to walk and act like a girl. …. We wouldn't want anyone to know you are a boy in a girlie dress, ….. now would we ?

I shook my head slowly, a little befuddled yet. … No, … that would be so humiliating, I thought to myself.

"Good, … now let's go downstairs. You can help me prepare dinner."

She took me by the hand downstairs, smiling at me the whole time. I looked and smelled as sweet as any of the pretty girls at school. She tied one of the lacy pinafore apron around me; and she had me help her fix dinner. The frilly pinafore apron now seemed quite appropriate; and I didn’t mind wearing it at all.

I had to do the dishes; and I stole glimpses of my reflection. Was that really me ? I looked, … and felt so pretty. It was exciting; …. and I loved how Mother’s attitude was now all sweetness. I blushed not only at how I now looked, but also how I felt. I was a boy; … and I knew I shouldn’t like these girlish clothes.

That evening Mom demanded I learn how to walk and sit, and behave as any proper girl. I had seen how girls scooped their dresses before sitting, and how they held their skirts while curtsying. I now practiced doing these girlish mannerisms; and Mother coached me on how to hold my hands and how to walk and sit like a well-mannered girl. It was like a lovely game we played, … Mother and me.

At bedtime she dressed me in the prettiest pink and white floral nightie, with a pink, quilted, lace trimmed robe with pink ribbon ties and fuzzy slippers. It all felt so smooth, slippery and nice. …. not at all like my boy’s pajamas, … and Mother seemed so pleased. She smoothed my nightie all out in bed, and kissed me goodnight I felt so good in the pretty nylon, and in my Mother’s good graces as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Mother was enthusiastic, and actually cheery as she helped me dress in the wondrous girl things. We both enjoyed getting me dressed, and I felt something with my Mother that had been missing.

For the next two days I lived as girl; and quickly adjusted to my dresses. ….Mother was so different, she kissed me a lot, and hugged me, and we shared thoughts. She enthusiastically told me about the elegant hotel where we would be staying that was just for women, and about how lovely the wedding and all the dresses would be, and about a grand party called a reception with a beautiful wedding cake and all. She told me how pleased she was how pretty I looked as a girl, and how everyone there would tell me the same, and fuss over me. She even teasingly remarked I might be asked to be a flower girl in the wedding, I was so pretty. It made me blush. ….. For the first time I felt close to my Mother; ….. and I liked the pretty dresses, and how they felt, and how my Mother looked at me, and talked to me. ….. I was looking forward to going on vacation as a girl with my Mother. I wanted this kind of relationship …. always……

My bag was all packed with everything a little girl would need for the trip, …. when our Cinderella story all came to a crashing end. Just as I was so excited with anticipation about our wonderful escapade, my Father came home unexpectedly. I watched as my Mother quickly packed the dresses and things away, and told me I mustn’t mention them to my Father. ……. I was crushed.

"But … Mother, … what’s to become of my pretty dresses ?" I asked.

She smiled slyly back at me.

"Oh, … so that is how things are ?" She smirked. ….. "Well, your dresses won't go far."

It left me confused, … and timid at the thought I wished to be dressed in girlish frills.

Mother went to the wedding without me; … and I was devastated. I went on vacation with my Father instead, but my thoughts were on my new relationship with my Mother, and those pretty dresses and things.

When Mom came home from the wedding it was clear things were different between us. We acted like co-conspirators. With Father away working once again she helped me into a dress; and we sat and went through the pictures from the wedding. She told me once more how everyone would have loved me dressed so prettily; and that I would have been one of the prettiest little girls there. …..I smiled cheerily up at her. The praise from my Mother felt like sunshine on my face.

After that, whenever Dad was away, Mom would bring out my frilly clothes; and I was dressed as a girl. I wore boy clothes to school; but weekends I began spending in dresses, dainty lingerie, and in nighties at night.

As it happened, that year my Father was away working for most of Christmas vacation; and the packages under the tree seemed more plentiful than usual, as well as more festively wrapped with tons of ribbons, … often in pink. It was no surprise then, that some of them turned out to be lovely dresses and delicate nylon underthings for a young girl. The Christmas holiday with Mother seemed so much more happy and loving with me dressed in bright, frilly dresses with ribbons and lace.

* * *

Dad did make it home in time for Christmas, and stayed a few days after; although it would be the last time I saw him. Two months later we got word …… my Father was killed in an accident at the job site.

After the funeral we packed up and moved to a different state; ……. and Mother promptly developed some new friends.

* * *

Outside of school I was now in dresses; …. and my boy clothes began to disappear.

Mother furnished my room in white French provincial; and I now had a canopy bed, a lingerie chest on chest, and a makeup vanity. It made me feel like such a little girl when I agreed to have my room painted like "Alice through the Looking Glass". … Mom was very pleased.

……… And then our lives decidedly changed……. my Mother began bringing women friends home from work, and her club. It was a few months, and lots of her girl "friends" later when she brought home a large package, and called me into her bedroom. ….. In the package was a beautiful dress of pink brocade with ivory satin trim. Once I was dressed, she sat me down and painted my nails a pretty pink; and she warned me then, in no uncertain terms, was I ever to bite my fingernails again. She pinned my hair back, and then produced a blonde wig from the last package and fitted it on my head; and I was transformed into a rather pretty little blonde girl.

"Do you like being blonde ?" She asked.

"Yes", I replied. "I look very pretty, don't I ?"

"You sure do dear", she smiled. "I think I'll make you a blonde before you return to school."

Then my Mother looked at me, and informed me there were some women coming over, and I would have to be on my very best behavior, ….. little girl like behavior. Imagine my shock at hearing that strangers were going to see me dressed like this for the first time ! I was extremely anxious.

Unfortunately, I was right to be nervous, because it did turn out to be a nightmare. Mom had me sit on a small chair with my hands folded on my skirted lap most of the night, except when she had me serve them tea. They asked me stupid questions, like did I have a boyfriend. I answered yes before I realized what she meant. Having a boyfriend was different now, and I blushed, which pleased them no end. They made suggestions to Mom that I be sent to a local all girls' school; …… but mostly I was ignored, or talked about like I wasn't there. Finally, when it was over, …. I was allowed to go to bed; but I didn't sleep. …. My head was now suddenly filled with thoughts of who I was and what was to be. I felt things had changed. It was no longer a game between Mother and me; and here I was in a pretty nightie, in a girl's room, with a dollhouse, where once I had model airplanes. I felt things were very different now. Some of her friends knew me as Amanda, a girl. How many others would ? Was I to grow up as a girl …. permanently? How ?

The next day Mother sat me down and asked me if I'd mind going to a girl's school, so that I could wear dresses all the time.

"If that’s what you want, .. I’ll be pleased to go, Mommy." I answered.

I was apprehensive; but I wanted to please my Mother.

It was just a few weeks later then, when another major upheaval occurred. Mother removed a table from my room, and replaced it with another bed; and I was told we were getting company. One of her friends was coming to stay; and she had a little girl; and I was expected to be friends with her. I was caught unaware, …and I was suddenly panicked.

"I'm not sure how to act; and girl games are stupid." I objected.

She just smiled back at me.

"Why Amanda, you should like girl games, after all, ….. you are a girl."

Her assertion somehow excited me. It was our game again.

She went on to explain that this visit would only work if I was a girl, not a boy; and so she put away my last few male things, and told me I was to be on my best behavior as a girl, and that I’d have to change into a nightgown and robe at night in the bathroom.

The day arrived, and I met Sandy and Mrs. Mary Quinn. Mary was a tall woman with large breasts. She arrived wearing a floor-length, red sequined evening gown with long black gloves. She wrapped her arm around my Mother, and held her close; ….. and the two of them stood giggling like schoolgirls.

Her daughter Sandy was a skinny girl with long red hair, and wore long pendulum earrings and high heels like her mother. But what I remember was her hollow eyes and frightened look. Her dress was so pretty, I was nudged by my mother to complement her.

"Thank you Amanda", she replied.

Then she crossed the room and hugged me, …. and kissed me right on the lips ! …. I was stunned, and blushed. I knew that women and girls kissed each other, but not like this !

Mary and my Mother sat on the couch, while Sandy and I sat on the odd chairs, while our mothers talked about us.

"Well really, Loretta !" Mary quipped. "She is a late bloomer with a boy's chest. I have started my Sandy on something that will give her a nice attractive bust. You simply must give it to Amanda. I'll give you my doctor's card. She deals with all kinds of teen problems."

"I also want my Sandy to have a small waist, so next year she is going to be corseted. ….. I mean, really Loretta, you have to start early to shape your daughter."

Sandy and I looked at each other and blushed as they talked about us; but we were not invited into their adult conversation.

When it came time for bed, I changed into my blue nightgown in the bathroom, and was instructed to wash my face with cold cream. Mother kissed me goodnight in the hall, and then she and Mary went into Mother's bedroom. ….. I thought it best not to ask any questions.

I woke in my bedroom as a girl, …. sharing a bedroom with another girl. It felt all so strange to me, and left me feeling displaced and a little fuzzyheaded.

Our mothers got up late; and it was then we were told they were taking us to the zoo. Sandy and I were dressed in sweet, frilly dresses. Sandy wore heels and stockings; and I was a bit jealous of her grown-up things. My dress had a very full skirt, and it was a marvelously smooth, wonderful material against my legs. I wore lace gloves, a hat with ribbons, and carried a purse. It was my first trip out of the house as a girl.

At the zoo, we stopped at an exhibit, and Sandy ran over to a group of girls, and I followed her. To my surprise and delight the other girls accepted us immediately; and I felt warm and fuzzy inside when they called me Amanda. ……. I felt thrilled to be a part of their group.

A little while later a man tried to approach and talk to me while we stood around; but he was quickly cut off by one of the mothers; and was sent on his way. It was then that I was informed that little girls shouldn't talk to strange men. Her tone told me I should be afraid of men; … and from then on, I was.

Being part of a group of girls meant I was to be protected and loved, and told how pretty I was. I loved that day. I knew for sure then I wanted to be a girl; …. but then, of course, I was not. I was a boy, … a boy in a dress.

Mary and Sandy stayed for two weeks; and we went out together several more times; … but the trip to the zoo was the most memorable, and best.

Before Mary and Sandy left, though, Mary announced we were all going to the opera. Since I did not have an appropriate dress for such an event, they took me shopping. I was quite enthused about going, really. I had enjoyed Sandy's company and the outings so much. I so wanted to be a girl like her.

I was shown dozens of dresses, some were too old, some too young, and some I didn't have the bust for. And then finally we picked out a wonderful, mauve, two-tiered dress of organza with full crepe lining. The back was cut lower than any of my other dresses; and it had long, silky-sheer sleeves, and the shoulders had lovely bows on them; and it had a long, wide shiny, satin sash that tied in a big bow in back. I loved it. I loved how it clung and moved with my body. It was so exquisitely feminine.

When we arrived at the theater, I kept looking at my dress, as well as admiring all the beautiful dresses on the other women there. Sandy and I both remarked about how pretty all the dresses were. We blushed and giggled to each other when we realized that our dresses were being admired too. I loved looking at my dress, and fussing with it as I sat. The opera was wonderful; but not so much for the performance, but the feminine elegance of it all. There even was an intermission where we went out to the lobby to sip drinks and indulge our senses again in the beauty of all the formal dresses; where I once again could experience the thrill of proudly displaying my gorgeous, … feminine dress.

I really loved that dress. I kept that dress for several years, until I finally, inevitably outgrew it.

* * *

Mom took me to see the doctor Mary recommended a few weeks later. They took a lot of blood, and did x-rays; and I was informed by my Mother there would be an operation in my future ! But she refused to furnish any details.

My Mother was quite upset about not being able to enroll me in a girl's school; and so it was with some severe complaining and reluctance that she was forced to take me shopping for some boy clothes for school. I wore a dress shopping, so I was unable to try anything on; and she absolutely refused to buy me any boy's underwear. She said I had plenty of pretty panties and things I could wear, and that she wasn't buying me anymore boy things. She was incensed about wasting money on shirts and pants. She made it clear that it was my fault that all this money was being wasted on boy clothes when I had so many pretty dresses to wear.

We couldn't leave, though, without looking in the girl's department, where we found a couple of adorable back to school dresses that I could try on, …. and which Mother enthusiastically bought.

Consequently, I wore panties and camisoles to school.; and as punishment for having to spend money on boy clothes, I wasn't allowed to have any of my friends to my house.

* * * * *

My life at school was a nightmare. It was difficult separating my life as a girl at home and boy at school. I had to remember to use the boy's restroom; but then wearing girl's underthings, I also had to sit to go to the bathroom. I had acquired some girlish habits over the summer, especially from Sandy; and the other boys were quick to notice. One boy complained: "You are so afraid of getting dirty, ' just like a girl". It was no wonder that I began associating with the girls.

Fortunately I found Betty Monroe, who was the Martha Stuart of the forth grade. She welcomed me to sit next to her because I talked of many things she liked; and I knew so much about dresses and things. Through her I became a member of the girl’s group; and so it was that my friends were girls, not boys.

Mother also saw to it once every two weeks my hair was retouched blonde, despite my protests.

"You don't like my hair color ?" She asked, threateningly.

Her hair was the same shade of blonde.

I had mentioned to my Mother once about trying out for some sports. I had thoughts about making some boy friends; but Mother quickly squelched them. She said boy games were stupid.

* * *

It wasn't long before another of Mother's "friends" came to visit. I knew by now that Mother had her women lovers. This one was named Carol. She was younger … and dumb as a rock; … and I was soon to learn she had a mean streak. She also had a little nine-month old girl. I didn't like Carol. If there was ever an evil stepmother, she was it.; but as long as she shared Mother's bed, I had to obey her. It was like a dark cloud had moved in to our house.

Carol made sure I wore a dress as soon as I got home from school; and she also showed me how to put my hair up in curlers with setting jell. I was then subjected then to her daily inspections to meet her girlie standards.

Carol also pushed most of her motherly duties onto me. I was expected to change her baby, Patty's, diapers, feed her her bottle, and launder her diapers each day. I was also to do the regular laundry every five days.

My girlfriend Betty was a big help in instructing me how to care for Patty; and was dumbfounded a boy was made to do this type of work. She liked the idea though, and was eager to help me anyway she could.

I was resentful of Mother's affection for Carol; but as much as I hated Carol, I also came to love Patty.

The bed that Sandy had slept in was eventually moved out; and replaced with Patty's crib, so I could take care of her at night.

I felt sorry for myself caught in this awful situation. I wasn't a girl, but forced to work as one, … without all the benefits.

Although I was resentful of my new station, Patty and I grew very close. I did nearly all the caring for her, and she started calling me "mommy". I loved her like she was my own daughter. Some nice fantasies grew out of this, as I sometimes wished I could run away from Carol and my Mother to raise Patty on my own; and often daydreamed of doing just that. After all, I was the one with Patty's diapers and baby bottles, with Patty slung around my neck the few times I did get to go out. I suffered through Patty's teething and potty training. I could never understand why Carol had so little to do with her own precious daughter.

The closer Patty and I became, however, the more resentful Carol became of hearing Patty call me "mommy". Mother thought it was cute and even bought me and Patty mother/daughter outfits; but by the time Patty was a pretty four -year –old, Carol hated me. She became terribly resentful, and took it out on me. She would knock Patty's food on the floor just to have me clean it up; and would take her baby bottles and pour it all over me.

Mother and Carol started fighting more; and when Carol was mean to me one day I couldn't hold back my anger and resentment toward her any longer.

"I’m the one that does everything for Patty ! She loves me ! …. I’m her Mommy ! … ‘not you !"

.She exploded in rage.

"No sissy boy is going to be Patty's mother !" She screamed.

She grabbed me by the hair, hauled me into the bathroom, and ripped my clothes off. She bent me over and shoved a tube up my rectum. I felt scalding water flowing into me. I screamed, but she held onto my hair, and continued to burn my insides. It seemed like an eternity, …. the hot water flowed; and Carol filled me so full. I was getting sick. Finally, her anger spent, she pulled the tube from my rectum and sat me on the toilet. My stomach was so distended I looked like I was nine months pregnant ! I was in agony until it came out in a flood; and then Carol dragged me naked and threw me on the bed. ….. I was totally exhausted and weak, and felt like a rag doll.

The next thing I knew I heard Mother go ballistic with Carol. She came into my room then, where I was lying naked, too wrung out to cover myself. She asked where the water and blood was coming from. I told her; and she gave me some pills; and I was soon asleep.

When I awoke, I was in Mother's bed in a nightgown. Mother had a doctor come examine me. He said I was not badly hurt.

Carol was gone ……. but then so was my dear Patty; ……. and I cried. Mother had me sleep with her in her bed for a few days until I felt a little stronger. ….. I was totally devastated by the loss of my Patty.

* * *

My Mother sold the house, and again we moved.

We went back to the doctor Mary had recommended, where they noticed my voice had changed.

Mother told me my tonsils would have to come out….

* * *

When I came out of the operation I realized there was more done than my tonsils removed. My voice was much higher, and to the delight of my mother, I now had a decent singing voice, … in soprano. They had altered my waist too. It was slightly higher.

* * * * *

A few weeks later, when I had recovered, Mother took us on a trip by train. Mother always traveled by train, … and then only in a Pullman. We got a room at the Atlantic, an old, but elegant hotel.

Mother had me put on a party dress for dinner; and we went down to the dining room. We met a woman there, …. and Mother introduced me to Mrs. Malborn. I smiled and curtsied dutifully as Mother had taught me. This lady looked me up and down; and then to my surprise she turned to my Mother and announced that I would, indeed, make a good student for the summer. I was stunned. What was she talking about ? Mother hadn’t said anything. Was this some sick joke ? I looked at my Mother for some reassurance, or explanation.

Mother looked at me coldly and then stated I was to go with Mrs. Malborn ! …. Mother had a bellboy retrieve my bag from my room, and gave it to the lady. She swiftly bid me good-bye, and told me I wouldn't need anymore dresses, that I had all I would need. …. Mrs. Malborn took me by the hand, and walked me out of the hotel. I was in shock as she placed me on a small blue bus with white lettering. I was too distraught to see what it said. There were six other girls as I took a seat.

I felt cold and abandoned, … and betrayed; and I cried as the bus pulled away from the hotel … and my Mother. ….. The girl next to me took my hand.

"Don’t cry. It will be ok. It’s not so bad …. really."

She put her arm around me, and I ended up crying on her shoulder. She held me, and tried comforting me for nearly an hour.

I was headed to a girl’s school ! I was all-alone here. What if they find out I’m not a girl ? … or does Mrs. Malborne already know ? …. I felt awful.

It was dark before the bus arrived; and I saw nothing but yellow windows as we pulled in. We were ushered in, measured for our uniforms, and sent to bed. I was put in a double room by myself with yellow ruffled curtains. Mother had packed a couple of nightgowns, and I gratefully slipped into one. I was in a strange bed in a strange room; … and it echoed with my loneliness, and feeling of abandonment. What had I done ? Why had Mother dumped me here ? Only a few tears hit my pillow before I fell asleep, exhausted.

In the morning I was abruptly and rudely awakened by some woman screaming at me to get up and get dressed. She thrust some clothes at me. They consisted of a heavily ruffled satin blouse, and an A-line, mid-calf skirt. …. I was given stockings … and a garter belt. I had never worn them before, but had seen them worn by other girls, and my Mother. I had watched my Mother put hers on many times, so I had little trouble fitting myself with them.

I reluctantly stepped out into the hall where I saw about a dozen other girls dressed as I was. The rude woman, Mrs. Oorentello, was screaming at the girls to get in line; and I meekly took my place with the rest of the girls. We were then led down to the dining room for breakfast.

I overheard some of the other girls around me refer to Mrs. Oorentello as "horse" as I sat quietly, eating my breakfast. I felt out of place, .. and alone, … a stranger. ….. After all, … I was a boy in a place for girls.…

I was soon to learn there were two classes of girls. You were either a PU or a DO. The pretty but mean girls were PU s, and got the best rooms and special privileges. All the other girls, and all of us on the bus, were DO s, and we were put to work cleaning and cooking.

I was the only one to get a private room, and Horse took an extreme dislike for me because of it. … I decided I wasn't going to like it here.

I learned later that PU was for "pick ups" who came during the summer. DO s were drop offs. I wasn’t really a DO, but I was treated as a DO, and a servant by the others. …. And I had no friends.

The school was a beautiful place in the summer. It was nestled in the mountains with a nice beach on a crystal lake. There was boating, horse back riding, swimming and nature trails. Despite wanting to loathe the place, I did enjoy the activities, while warily protecting my dark "secret". I only talked to a couple of girls, and stayed to myself. I must have appeared shy. I managed to fit in as just one of the girls, having to wear the same school mandated clothes as the rest of them, right down to my panties. I was careful about walking and carrying myself as a girl. … There were a couple of girls who walked and acted a lot more like a boy than I ever had. I looked to emulate a few of the more petite, feminine girls, … over-compensating perhaps.

I wasn’t entirely sure why Mom put me here. Was I to learn more about being a girl for her ? … Or was it just a whim, … an idea propagated by one of her friends to have me go to an all girl’s school ? She hadn’t prepared me for this. It wasn’t fair this should come so unexpectedly.

Across the stream, over a marble bridge, was the main campus. The sign read "Mrs. Malborn's School for Girls and though I strained….. I couldn't read the rest for the trees.

The school was no nonsense, and I had courses in sewing, which I got a "C", cooking, which I found I liked and got an "A", and maternity, which for me was a breeze after my experience with Patty, and I got an "A+".

The weeks went on, and my Mother never called or wrote. ….. I was forced to sell my hairbrush to have a little pocket money, and to use the pay phone to call the Hotel Atlantic. When I finally got through, the clerk informed me my Mother had checked out a few days after I was swept away; and she had left with her sister. …….. My heart nearly stopped, and I felt so cold. Mother never had a sister. She was with another lover. Now I knew … I was here … out of her way. …. I realized I was a DO after all, …… never to be picked up…..

* * * * *

By the end of summer I had made one friendship with a girl named Pam. She was a shy, plain girl, similar to my own appearance, about 5’ 5" and about 115 lbs with an attractive wholesomeness about her.

Pam and I watched as the other mothers picked up the cute girls; and then that evening the rest of us girls were told to pack up our belongings. We were to move to the main campus.

Another girl and I were told money was still coming in for our care, so our free time was our own. The others were told to report to Mrs. Oorentello for job assignments.

We were placed on the bus; and we left for the main campus. I felt like something heavy was lying on my chest as I sat next to Pam, and it wasn’t just my bra. Mom had got what she wanted. I was now in a girl's school. …. I was melancholy, and near tears. … Pam looked to cheer me.

"It will be all right." Pam said. "The other girls here are much nicer. You'll see."

As the bus passed the marble bridge I could finally read the sign: "Mrs. Malborn's School for Girl's and Orphanage". …. I felt a deep emptiness in the pit of my stomach, … and nearly threw up……

* * * * *

Remarkably, the place was not so terrible. Pam and I were assigned a room together. The room had two beds, a private bath, a makeup table, a work table with two chairs, and there was a closet with louvered door. The two windows at the opposite end from the door overlooked the lake and lobby entrance.

I could not believe what was happening to me ! I hoped Mom was happy, … wherever she was… . Here I was, all alone in a girl's school, with nothing but girls and girl clothes, …. and I was a boy ! Was I really to remain here until I graduated ? What would happen if someone discovered my secret ? I tried not to think too much about it. …. It would give me anxiety attacks.

Fortunately Pam was the only girl I had to deal with, and she was modest and shy like me, and so both of us always changed and bathed in private. Another good thing was Pam had to work, so she was gone before I got up, and was back after 6 after I had time to have a bath.

* * *

I soon fell into the daily routine of school. We were up at 6 AM to get dressed; and then each hall was led off to breakfast in the main dining room in the middle of campus. We stood out in the weather until the previous hall was through the cloakroom and into the dining area. We then entered, and hung our coats and scarves, set down our books and entered the dining room. Pam was one of the girls serving breakfast, although I could never eat breakfast, but had to take the food anyway. When it became rainy we were given a rain cape with a hood. We marched in the rain, and waited for "next hall report" before running up the steps to the dryness and warmth of the hall. But it was the cold that was the worst. We were given red cape coats with the school monogram on one side. We wore turban-like fur hats, long black leather boots with a one-inch heel, black leather gloves and a muffler. We had to wait longer outside for each hall to remove everything. I remember it being so cold with the wind going up under our skirts, and it being so slate gray without the sun.

It was all too much. I didn't think I could take it any longer. One day standing in line in the cold and snow I just knew I would never know the life I had ever again. I would never even be a boy again. All that remained of the boy was what was between my legs. I just felt abandoned, and broken, and so alone. I couldn't even remember my life before. The fishing trips with my father were fading from my memory. I had no clue as to what to do or where my life was going. ….. I had no rudder. I was lost…. How was I to be a girl for the rest of my life ? … It all seemed very cold and very gray; and my tears froze on my cheeks from the whipping north wind….

As the days closed in on Christmas, many of the girls talked of going home to Christmas and their families. Pam and I stayed in our room, away from the great Yule tree in the main room downstairs. There would be no going home for us. We had no home to go to, so instead, we amused ourselves, along with the other DO s , or orphans, .. for that was what we were. …. It was hard not thinking of myself as one of them now.

There was one lady that knew my secret though, and she sent for me. Mrs. Malborn had signed off on my physical, so I hadn't taken phys. ed. like the other girls. As I stood before her I was stunned as she informed me if I were her child she would have snipped off my problem long ago !

She presented me with a box, and when I opened it, I found a red liquid in a plastic container. She then proceeded to tell me that I was not to be spared having a period … just like all the other girls ! She told me that when Pam started her period, I was to stick this on me and wear a "Kotex" pad like any other girl and let this drip inside for several days. I would get a new one each month. She was very direct and cold.

I left confused. …… Why would she make me do this ?

At long last I received a letter from my mother. ….. She wrote in spindly writing, and said she had been sick She wrote that she had written several times and that I had not written back. … I was puzzled. ….. (I later discovered that Horse had withheld them out of spite; but fortunately for me, Horse’s duties had changed and she was taken off of being in charge of the mail. ) Mother thought I was mad at her for making me a girl, and I had not written back because of it. I quickly wrote back forgiving her. After all, she was my mother and all the family I had. She wrote to tell me to stay in school; and that maybe this summer I could be a boy again, and play baseball; but that I had to do well in my classes.

It was like a big dark cloud had lifted from my days.

Buoyed by this news, I worked hard, and achieved all A s. My curriculum consisted of home economics, girl's health, sewing, fashions(which was about clothes and makeup), and music. All girls were expected to play an instrument. Some of the girls thought it was all ideal. I just wanted to survive.

There was yet another aspect of school life here. Nearly all the girls had to take some medication. Most were to help make the most of the girls' attributes. Some pills were to increase growth, others to slow or stop it. Many were mood altering to keep us on an even keel. ….. The blues made you quiet and passive, the reds were for shyness, and the yellows …. made you crazy. When my mother contacted the school I was shipped to the doctor's office. I was put on medication as well. I was given a shot, two purple pills, and a yellow. No one refused the pills unless they made you violently ill. Refusal meant they were given to you with a tube. So I took them, ….. and nothing seemed to happen.

It was Christmas Eve of all times, when I heard a shriek from Pam in the bathroom. A teary-eyed Pam came out and headed straight for our stash of feminine products. I knew what I had to do next when Pam left our room. I pulled out the box Mrs. Malborn had given me, and one of those feminine napkins Pam had just used, and went into the bath. The plastic bag with the red liquid was to be glued onto my scrotum, and the tube left to drip into the pad. The only way to remove the bag was with a special liquid remover. I fitted myself with the white pad from the box of Kotex; and then I did something stupid. I went back to bed. Somehow the pad slipped; and when I woke up, the sheets as well as myself were a mess ! I cleaned it up the best I could.

Horse came into the dining hall as I was eating breakfast the next day, and proceeded to bawl me out about my accident in front of everyone ! The other girls laughed. I was beat red, and so embarrassed. Horse warned me if it ever happened again I would have to pay for the sheets I ruined. It somehow got back to Mother, and she thought it was great. She told me it was so wonderful I could experience that: and that her mother had scolded her for the exact same thing.

It seemed my life now revolved around my period, …just like the other girls. Girls tend to have their periods at the same time when living close together. ….. Just try living with 75 girls with their periods, and all having PMS !

We were to graduate in May, and Mom was to pick me up, along with her new lover.

There was one thing I knew I had to do. I told my Mother not to sign me up for baseball, and instead, I had a new friend that I'd like to stay with us for the summer. I knew I'd have to continue to stay in dresses and skirts all summer as a girl, but it would be worth it. …. Just once, I wanted Pam to be "Pick Up".

When I told Pam my Mother was going to pick both of us up, I don't think she believed me. But we packed our bags the day after graduation, and assembled in the lobby with the other girls. The other girls made jokes and laughed.

"Where do you think you're going ?" They called.

Pam wanted to run, but I held onto her hand, and prayed Mother would be one of the first to arrive for us. .Just then a huge Rolls Royce pulled into the half-circle, and a chauffeur came out to open the car door for my Mother. She looked as sheik as ever. She walked in and announced herself to the desk; and then they announced my Mother to pick up Pamela Ames and Amanda Besantte. We came running, and the chauffeur took our luggage while Mother greeted us warmly; … and with Pam on one arm, and me on the other, we walked out of the lobby and into the limousine. Mother, bless her, knew how to make an entrance; and none of the other girls could believe it.

I looked up at my old room window, and as I saw the other DO girls I wished I could take them all with us; … but they were cheering us on. Pam and I made sure they received lots pictures and letters every step we went.


To be continued……..


2001 by Julie. 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.