As related around a campfire one night during scout camp while eating "Smores" and drinking Mountain Dew.

It could happen...

 

A Misty Campfire Tale

by

Misty Dawn

Part Two

 

Growing up without a male authority figure was great, but it did nothing to help me become a very macho male. There was just mom and me, nobody to yell at me if I did not do well in the Little League game on Saturday, or if I asked for a bit of help with my homework, or hogging the computer, or cussing me when I did anything wrong. Yes, life with a working mom was grand. Sleep in, except on school days, watch cartoons all morning, and best of all, mom was always away working during the day, and so I had the whole house to myself.

It was five months into the school year after meeting Misty the first time at my aunt's before I ever saw her again. The initial excitement of being in junior high had worn off. It was so weird. I was actually "missing" Misty! One day I stayed home from classes by pretending I was "sick". Mom had come up to my room, kissed me on the forehead and said, "Billy, I'll see you when I get home."

The moment I heard her car pull out of the drive I was got up and took over the house. Time to put me plan into effect.

Being home alone would give me the chance to explore that area of my inner self that I knew mom would not understand and most likely yell at me for if she ever discovered was there was a girl living in me. I went into her private bathroom because there was so much neat stuff that wasn't in my bathroom. She had a lady's razor, several bath gels, and frilly pink washcloth and towel sets. I took a long soak in bath oils and beads like Aunt Nancy had taught Misty to do. A long time later I patted down, wrapped a towel around me and made my way to mom's vanity.

In front of the mirror there was a wide assortment of make-up, lipsticks, rouges and glosses, brushes and pads that I had once or twice seen her rubbing and scraping her face with. I got mushy inside and nearly ran over to the stool and sat down. I ignored Willy and concentrated on awakening Misty. Mom would have kittens trying to figure what I was doing so I was really careful using her stuff. Mom just would never allow her son to be a girl, I was certain. But, I just had to know for sure!

I did the base and powder as I had been taught, but it took me a couple of tries to get it the way I remembered Misty. When I finally got to the lipstick and put some on my lips. I missed my lips, and ended up with a light red moustache. Wiping of the smeared lipstick and repairing the base, I attempted the task once again, more carefully. For some reason my lips looked fuller than when Aunt Nancy had taught me. When I dabbed my lips on a tissue and looked in the mirror, I smiled and took my hair down from the turban, dried it and brushed it out in a pattern I found way too-familiar for not having used it for nearly six months and then only for a couple of days. Everything came back to me as if I had been practicing every day. In a matter of minutes I giggled in a girlish manner and waved at Misty in the mirror.

I didn't have any girl's clothes, so I made do with a pair of too small cutoff and cuffed the legs right up to the crotch like I had seen other girls do and put on a colored tee shirt. Not perfect, but it gave me what I needed. Very happily I spent the rest of the day as my alter ego...down to the kitchen…eat breakfast…out into the living room…watch cartoons. I spent the majority of the day plopped on the couch just watching TV. At three I went in and cleaned up and Willy returned by three-thirty and was ready to help mom prepare our supper when she came home.

It was two weeks before I got "sick" again. Before long I was sick once, sometimes twice a week. I never really thought about what I was doing other than to realize I was missing a lot of school and that I was playing with fire. By then I must have grown over confident, or got lazy, or waited too long to change. One afternoon after I had pulled my "sick" routine, Mom pulled into the driveway around four as always, and I ran from the bathroom into the kitchen. I was supposed to get supper started and had pushed the envelope as far as possible. Mom's supper was going to be late!

Smiling broadly as she walked through the door, she tossed her coat down on the couch and came into the kitchen, asking, "Well, Willy, how do you feel?"

"Fine, Mom…it was just that same old upset stomach." I returned the hug and submitted to what I knew was coming.

Feeling my forehead she was convinced I was not running a fever. Drawing her hand back, she gave a funny look… like something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Mom?" I asked.

"Why have you been wearing my make up, Willy?"

My face turned three shades of red. "Makeup? I'm not…" I tried denying it but she was not having any of that.

"I've known you were messing around my vanity for a long time.' I cringed at the feel of her forefinger dipping into the depression below my earlobe. "I've suspected this was happening," she persisted, and wiped some more makeup off from under my earlobe and showed it to me. "You're busted, buster!"

I was busted. How could I deny it with some of it on her fingers? All the tensions I had felt building the past few months suddenly burst through into the light of day. I broke and began to sob it all out. Everything!

Finally my tears were lessening and I tried explaining, but she wouldn't let me. She just kept telling me that what I was doing was perfectly natural. Surprising me the most was that she was not mad, and she was sobbing with me and promising she would help me in any way she could. "Hey. I'm hungry…and I see you have nothing on the stove tonight, sooo…" A few minutes later we were on our way to the local arches.

While we sat and burgered down on the patio outside, we talked, and she wormed the whole episode with her sister out of me. I told her all about Misty and then began to tell her how I had begun missing Misty and then the need to let Misty come visit me. Blushing furiously I even told her how much I liked visiting as Misty.

She started telling me how she had always wanted a little daughter that she could dress up and go shopping with. Not that she was disappointed with me, but without my father around, it would be kind of difficult for her to have another child. When my father left her many years back, she went through a long stage of depression, and I was the only one there for her during that time, so I feel that is where we developed that close bond. But where was this bond leading?

It wasn't long before I found out…

It started by momma taking me up to her bedroom and laying out some clothes she thought might fit. She said it would be fun to play dress-up, as she didn't have a daughter, and wondered what it would be like to have one. I was completely shocked. I was just experimenting, and here she was making it a big deal. I decided not to upset her and just played along, certain it would all pass.

Then she had me sitting on her bed, while she rummages through her closet to find the perfect outfit for me. I sat there just looking around, trying to act as casual as possible, while inside my head I was overcome with emotions. I didn't know whether I was excited or nervous, probably a little of both.

I snapped out of it when my mother having selected the perfect outfit from her closet, laid the garments down next to me on the bed. Nervously, I glanced over at her selection and was shocked to find that she had been rather extreme with her selections considering this was the first time I had ever done anything like this. I knew she was just wanting me explore, and trying to be helpful, but in a strange way it felt like she was trying to punish me.

"Mom, I can't wear that. There's NOOOOOO way!" I tried to protest.

"Nonsense. It will look great, just give it a chance." she said as she brushed her hand against my face.

I couldn't believe I was actually going to do this, and in front of my own mother for that matter! There next to me on the bed, she had laid out a black garter belt, black stockings, a dress she wore when she was little girl, and a pair of Mary Jane shoes to complete the outfit. Since I was eight years old, there was no need for a bra. She told me that she would fix my make-up after I had got into the dress because she didn't want to get any on the dress. I actually agreed with her when she said this, and she gave me a little smile and told me to take off my clothes so we could get started.

Hesitantly, I removed my pants and then my shirt. As I sat on her bed in just my socks and underwear, she said, "Oh, I almost forgot! A little girl can't be walking around in a pair of boy's underwear, can he?"

My face turned three shades of red when she said this. She wasn't going to actually make me wear panties was she? Sure enough, she handed me a pair of pink panties and told me to take off my underwear and put those on. I cringed as I removed the last bit of boyhood and stood there fully naked in front of my mother.

"What are you just standing there for? You surely don't need my help putting those on."

I sighed and grabbed the pink panties and began to step into them. I was shocked as I slid them up my legs at how smooth they felt, so much different than my boy's rough underwear. I think I may even have had a little smile on my face as I pulled them all the way up, encasing my penis in a harness of silk. It was the closest thing to ecstasy I had felt in all my years. I think my mother could tell this too, as she stood there smiling at me, even giggling as I stood there staring down at my newly found joy.

"You're going to need my help putting these on," she said as she motioned towards the garter belt. Just then she changed her mind, and went back to her dresser. She returned with a pair of white tights.

"Little girls don't wear garter belts. I must have gotten caught up in the moment," she said with a chuckled and then looked at me to see if I'd laugh with her. I couldn't laugh, but just wondered who was enjoying this more. She had me sit down on the edge of the bed, while she slowly rolled them up my legs. I can't describe the feeling I felt then, except to say that my legs became alive. A tingling sensation began in my toes and shot straight up to my thighs as she finished pulling them up. I stood up and pulled them the rest of the way up, carefully, as she instructed. I ran my hands over my legs and got goose bumps. I would have never guessed that this could feel so good.

"Hands up in the air, little girl." Mom told me.

She put my arms through the holes and brought the dress down over my body. She made sure to smooth it all out and make sure it looked perfect before she stepped back to check on her work. The dress came down to my knees, and looking down at myself, I was a girl. There was no question about it. I felt a sensation stirring inside me that I had never felt before. Almost a tingling, but much better. Next thing to do was to put on the shoes. Thank God the shoes didn't have really tall heels on them. I'm not sure how I would have handled learning to walk in spike heels while also taking in all these new sensations.

Mom placed them on the floor in front of me and I stepped into them one by one, and she fastened them in place around me slender ankles for me. They sure didn't feel like my sneakers at all, especially now that I was wearing tights. I took a few steps around the room, and was surprised to find that it wasn't uncomfortable at all like I had expected it to be. I'm not sure if it was the shoes or what, but I was even starting to imitate the girls I had seen at school, and how they walked.

Mom picked up right away on this and said, "Well, I guess that's one less thing I am going to have to teach you." and then she gave me a quick wink.

What did she mean by that? I wondered. Isn't she just allowing me to experiment? It sounded to me like she was planning on me being a girl the rest of my life. I gave her a quick smile so she wouldn't feel bad, and walked back over to the bed. She came over and gave me a kiss on the forehead and said, "You're such a pretty little girl. Let's do your make-up so we can get going?" My eyes opened wide at that comment. Where does she plan on going, and why would she think I'd be going with her dressed like this?

  

  

  

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