Mother May I?

by Jennifer White

 

I had been dating Amber for almost a year now, and things seemed to be going quite well. We went through the typical 'dance' of getting to know one another at first, but then we started spending more time together, talking on the phone just about every day, and always moving our relationship forward.

I was in my late twenties, and she was a year younger than me. But she had gotten married right out of school, but it all ended in tragedy. She had been pregnant, but lost her daughter in childbirth. She told me what a beautiful child Melissa had been, and how empty she felt from the loss.

It ended up consuming her, and eventually her husband could take no more, and divorced her. She told me that she still thought about Melissa every day, and that she would have been 16 years old by now.

Normally, I wouldn't date a chick with that kind of emotional baggage, but Amber had a few outstanding qualities, like her unbelievably tight body, her pretty face, perfect breasts, warm laugh, deep blue eyes, long blonde hair, and everything else you could imagine in your dream girl. I felt really fortunate that she picked *me* as the one that she was dating!

 

Anyway, other than her need to tell me all the time about Melissa, there was only one other flaw in Amber, as far as I could see. She had a bit too much of a mothering instinct for me. Now when she would tell me that I needed to wear something other than what I had on, when we were going out, wasn't too different from other women I dated. But she was always doing little things like straightening my color, rubbing off some dirt from my shirt (or my face), insisting that I clean my plate when we ate, and drink my milk. It felt sometimes like she was trying to be a mother to me, when what I needed as a girlfriend!

I let it go, but sometimes it really got to me, and I resented having a woman a year younger than me treating me like I was a kid or something. I figured that maybe it had something to do with her loss of Melissa, and that she had this overwhelming inner need to mother. So I let it go as best I could.

But one day, I was in a bad mood from work, she was grumpy, and then she started in with her mothering routine. I had a couple of drinks after work, and I was kind of loosened up. So I said something stupid, letting it slip.

"Geez Amber, you keep acting like you're my mother or something! Enough is enough!"

 

I could see from the look on her face that I had just struck her with perhaps the cruelest blow I could have. She looked absolutely crushed. She started crying, and I got all upset. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"I think you should just go home now" she told me.

I went home, not knowing if we still had a relationship or not.

 

* * *

 

I didn't call her the next day, nor did she call me. I thought it was going to be all over between us. But when I came home from work on Friday, there was a message on my machine.

"Hi, it's Amber" said the voice on the recorder. "Look, I think we need to talk. I want to make it up to you. I've got dinner cooking, and I bought a surprise for you. Come on over when you get cleaned up, and I'll see you then."

The long beep told me it was the last of my messages. I was really relieved that she wanted to make up. Having just a day and a half away from her made me realize just how much I missed what we had together. I felt so stupid for having made such a mess of things. It was all my fault.

I bought a bottle of her favorite wine, and I planned on apologizing to her when I got there. I stooped at the florist, and got a dozen red roses too, her favorite. I was really nervous when I knocked on her door, as nervous as our first date together.

 

Amber acted very pleasant that evening, as if nothing had happened. She cooked a wonderful dinner for us, which we ate as we drank the wine I had bought. She made spaghetti with a creamy spicy red sauce, and it was really good! When we were done eating, she kept staring at me, but not at my face. She was looking down further, like she was staring at my chest.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"Well, since you asked," she replied, "I wasn't going to say anything, since I don't want to be accused of mothering you too much, but you've got a red spot on your shirt from the sauce. I'll let you clean it off yourself."

"Look, I...." I started, but she put her hand up.

"No, don't say anything. We were both wrong. As of today, we're going to have a different relationship. I love you, I know you love me, and we are not going to let something minor and silly get in the way."

I was *so* relieved. And she didn't even want to talk about it! Normally, women wanted to go on and on and on when they talked about relationships. So it was a double bonus for me, that she didn't want to rehash every little detail over and over.

"I told you I had a present for you" she said. "Let me go get it. Actually, it's a new shirt. We can soak that one, so the stain doesn't set it."

I looked down at my shirt, but I didn't see a red stain. But now wasn't the time to argue with her! I would just let this go, and put on the new shirt she bought me. Who knows, maybe she made an excuse to get me to wear it, so I'd be grateful to her?

 

She returned with a box, wrapped up, with a bow on top and everything. I carefully pulled the bow off, removed the paper, and opened the box. Then I had to fold back the tissue paper, to reveal the shirt hidden inside of all that.

I was really surprised to see what kind of shirt it was. First of all, there was the color. It was orange and yellow, kind of blended together so that it was darker around the outside, lighter in the middle. Then there were red colored outlines of flowers, leaves, and butterflies. It was some kind of tank top, but the straps going over the shoulders were really thin, less than the width of a pencil.

"Um, thanks" I said. "I don't have anything like *this*."

"Go ahead, try it on!" she insisted.

"It looks small for me" I said, trying to find a way to weasel out of wearing the shirt. It certainly wasn't my style, and I wasn't excited about having it on!

"It's a stretch fabric. It's supposed to look small. Come on now, I spent a long time picking it out, special for you. Let me see you in it."

"All right" I said, giving up. With our fragile truce, I didn't want to pick a fight, so I thought what the heck, I'd try it on, show her that it didn't fit, and I'd never have to wear it again.

So I took the shirt in my hand. The fabric was very soft, and I had to admit it felt very good to the touch. Much softer than any of my shirts, that's for sure!

I took off my shirt, and tossed it on the couch. Then I took the new shirt, and pulled it on over my head. It was too small for me, I could tell right away. I had to struggle to get into it, and it came up way to short, exposing my belly for seven inches!

"See?" I said, "It's just too small for me."

"Just let it stretch out a bit" she insisted. "It will fit you fine."

"Okay" I sighed, but I wasn't too happy about wearing the shirt. To make matters worse, it felt really weird to be wearing a shirt with flowers and butterflies. I decided it must be a Hawaiian theme or something, so I let it go. For now.

"Come on, lets watch a movie" said Amber, sounding excited.

"Sure" I replied. "What's on?"

"I just rented The Princess Diaries II" she replied.

I didn't know what that movie was, but after about five minutes, I had it figured out: it was a chick flick for younger girls, and women who wanted to get in touch with their youth by reliving old fairy tales.

At first, I found it really boring. But as it went on, I had to admit that my interest kept growing, so that by the end, I was really cheering for the big ending. I clapped my hands together and grinned.

"Wasn't that a good movie, dear?" said Amber.

"Yes it was!" I replied. "That was fun. Can I stay up late and watch another movie?"

"Do you have homework to do?" she asked.

"No, of course not!" I said.

"All right. Then we can watch one more movie. But first, you really need to change clothes dear. Those big pants look really silly on you."

I looked at myself, and I was horrified to see that I had on these giant oversized pants, than just hung off of my body. Why in the world was I wearing them? Amber led me to her room, where she had a nice outfit laid out for me.

"Why don't you put that on, and I'll start making popcorn."

I took off the yucky pants, and noticed that I had boy's boxers on too. I would much rather be wearing the panties she had placed near the skirt, so I picked them up, and slipped them on. They were white cotton, and very comfortable.

Then I took the denim skirt, and put it on as well. I looked in the mirror, I realized that I looked silly without shoes on. I rummaged through Amber's closet, and luckily the pair of her shoes that I picked out were just the right size for my feet. They were opened toe heels, with a heel that was as wide as the shoe. The whole shoe was a natural ecru color, except the two inch wide strip of material that you slipped your foot into. That was the color of red wine, when you spill a little on the table.

Now I felt better. I was glad that mom let me wear her shoes, because she had so many. I went out to see her, so we could watch the next movie.

"Young lady, what do you think you are doing?" she scolded.

"Sorry mom, but I wanted to wear these shoes with this outfit. Is that okay?" I said.

"Of course dear. I'm not mad about that. But you can't go around wearing a thin shirt like that without a bra! Look how your nipples stick out. They show right through it. You're not a little girl anymore, and you've got boobs. Remember that we've talked about you needing to wear a bra so they don't get all saggy when you're an older woman?"

"I'm sorry" I said. "I guess I forgot."

"That's okay Melissa. Just go to your room, and put a bra on under your shirt."

I went to my room, and turned on the light. It looked very pretty in my room. My walls were covered in a textured sky blue wallpaper. It was like floating among wispy clouds up in the air.

My vanity, my dresser and my bed were white, with gold trim. My bed was covered with the big fluffy comforter, with a stack of pillows with their lacy covers piled at the head of the bed. At the foot of the bed was my favorite doll, from when I was a young girl.

On my white night stand was a vase with fresh cut pink carnations, and they made the room smell very nice. The curtains were tied off to the sides with a dark blue braided rope. They were white of course, with a lacy pattern. I had the shades pulled down though, because I didn't want anyone looking in when I was dressing. A girl can't be too careful!

I took off my new shirt, which was so cute on me. I loved how I looked it in. It was kind of long for me though, but maybe I could shrink it in the wash. I carefully laid it on the bed, while I opened the drawer of my dresser where I kept my bras. I didn't always like to wear one, but mom would nag me if I didn't!

I had been so excited at first when I got to wear a bra, because I thought it meant I was becoming a *woman*, not a girl. But mom still treated me like a little girl. She wanted me to be five years old or something, I think. But I loved the attention she gave me. I thought about this as I put on my bra with an expert touch. It had been hard at first, but now I didn't even have to think about it.

Suddenly, I was overcome with a strange feeling, like something wasn't right. All this, my life, it was a mirage. But how could all this be wrong? It was me! I suddenly had this strange uncomfortableness about having boobs, which was *so* weird!

I put my shirt back on, and suddenly the strange feeling went away. I took a deep breath. I felt comfortable again. I was myself again. But I was dismayed to see that my bra strap showed. I'd have to talk mom into buying me a strapless bra, if I was going to wear this shirt out sometime. It was really cool, but I couldn't wear it outside with my bra straps showing like this!

I looked at the makeup I had set up on my vanity. I loved making my face up. But it was close to bedtime, and mom would yell at me for taking a long time. My nails really needed to be painted too. I vowed to let them grow long, and to stop chewing on them like mom was always nagging me about. I'd start growing them long tomorrow. For real this time.

My closet door was slightly ajar, so I went to close it. I felt good knowing that I had a whole closet full of cute skirts, blouses, dresses, and all my other pretty clothes. Not to mention all my shoes! Of course, I'd raid mom's shoes when she had something cool that I didn't. Like today.

I went back out, and mom had the popcorn ready, and the movie. It was Shrek II, which was pretty funny, even though I'm not a little kid anymore. I sat on the floor, and mom brushed my hair as we watched the movie, ate popcorn, and giggled.

 

By the time the movie was done, I was falling asleep on the couch. Mom made me go to my room and put on my nightie before I could crash for the night. I brushed my teeth, and I was ready to hit the sack. Mom also made me brush my long hair, one hundred strokes every night. But since she did it for me while we watched the movie, I could just hit the sack.

She came in, and kissed me goodnight.

 

At that moment, it was like fireworks went off in my head. Her kiss unlocked something within me: me! What was going on? Why was she treating me like her daughter? I looked down at myself in the nightie, and the worst possible feeling of panic and horror set in over me. I was a girl!

Somehow, I had completely transformed into a girl! She had been calling me Melissa all night. I don't know how it happened, but now I was her daughter! I had been thinking and acting like a girl, ever since I had put on that shirt.

Now I was suddenly myself again, and I screamed. I had a girl's voice! No! This couldn't be happening to me! I had nothing between my legs! I had boobs! I was pretty! I was a girl. No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

"What's the matter dear?" said Amber, rushing into the room. "Are you having a bad dream?"

"What have you done to me!" I screamed. "You've turned me into a girl!"

"Now Melissa, calm down" she said.

"I will not calm down! I'm not Melissa, I'm not a girl, and I'm not your daughter! Turn me back into myself, now!!!!"

"I'm afraid that is quite impossible" she said. "I should have made you keep your shirt on longer, I'm afraid. You're suffering a slight relapse. But don't worry dear. As soon as you fall asleep, your true feminine self will take over again, and this time for good."

"Then I'm never going to sleep again!" I said. "I want my old body back!"

"The warm milk you drank with the popcorn had a sedative in it" she said. "Fight it if you would like to, but within a few minutes, you'll find yourself falling off to sleep. Then what is left of your male mind will be erased, and you will truly *be* Melissa. There is nothing you can do. You just need to accept it. You are my daughter now. You are a girl. There is no going back for you. It is quite permanent, and nothing in the world can change things for you."

"How did you do this to me!!!" I said.

"You have the mind of a young girl now" she replied. "You wouldn't understand. It's a grown-up topic, dear. You are such a pretty little girl. Let me sing you a lullaby."

"No! I'm not going to sleep!" I said.

"Rock-a-by baby, on the tree top" sang Amber in a soothing voice. "When the wind blows, the cradle will rock...."

As much as I didn't want to, I fell quiet. Seeing her looking down at me, singing softly and gently, I suddenly was overcome with a sense of calm, warmth, and love.

"...when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall....."

I yawned. I felt *so* tired. It was overwhelming. It was taking every bit of my strength to keep my eyes open now. I was too weak to yell out. I was too weak to fight off sleep anymore.

"...and down will come baby, cradle, and all."

I hardly heard the last words as I fell off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

"Now Melissa, on Monday you'll be starting at your new school" said mom.

"New school?" I replied.

"Yes. I've enrolled you at the Saint Virginia Academy. You will get a much better education there than at the public school."

"But that's a girl's school!" I said, upset. "I'll have to wear a uniform!"

"That's right dear. We're going shopping today to buy you some of their cute little red plaid skirts, the blazer, the white socks, and the standard black shoes."

"But mom, I'll never meet any boys if I go there!" I said.

"You will have plenty of time for boys. You're only sixteen years old Melissa. You have your whole life ahead of you! You'll meet a boy some day. But now you need to concentrate on your studies."

"It's not fair!" I said.

"Life isn't fair" she replied. "Now go get dressed up, I'll take you out to breakfast, then we'll get your new school uniforms. If you behave, we can go to the mall, and you can get a new pair of shoes too. How's that for fair?"

"I love you mom" I said, giving her a big hug.

"I love you too Melissa. Your mommy loves you very much."

 

The End

  

  

  

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