The New Assignment         by: Patricia Pendragon

 

Living with my mom, a single parent had not been the easiest of lifestyles. She had been forced to work two jobs for much of my formative years in order to pay the bills and give me a half decent education. So it was with some pride that I took on a part time job myself as soon as I was old enough – 14 – and began to make a small contribution myself. Even though, by this time, mom had worked her way into a well-paid position and my contribution was not strictly necessary. It cut into my ‘private’ time a bit, but it also provided a little money to indulge in some of my own fantasies and interests. I wasn’t one for a great deal of socializing – I tended to avoid close contact with other kids and followed my own path with sport (swimming), martial arts and modern dance as my main interests. We were fortunate in that a small legacy left by a maiden aunt paid for my attendance at a small private school which allowed its students, in fact encouraged, an individual approach and was tolerant of the idiosyncrasies of students.

I was fifteen when I landed a plum job at a local research facility as a part-time lab assistant, earning a very useful wage for a few hours a week. The work was interesting and varied, covering a lot of genetic research and some development of genetic medicine, and – for a teenage boy – fantastic as I was the sole male among a group of women, all of them lookers! I had only been there a few months when my immediate supervisor Charlene invited me to join the rest of the group at a barbeque to be held at the home of the Head of Research. It was, she added to be a costume party, and I should wear something feminine, as the theme was to be famous film stars. This almost made me choke and refuse the invitation; my BIG secret was that I had, since my earliest days, dressed up in my mom’s things, lately buying a few items of my own. There was no way I was going to admit this to anyone! Instead I said I would have to check with my mom and give her my answer later. With a knowing smile Charlene agreed and let it go.

That evening I mentioned the invitation to my mom, adding that I intended to refuse, " as I can’t go out dressed as a girl! I’m a boy!"

"I don’t see why not dear," my mom replied, "after all you’ve been dressing up in my things for years now and you have quite a nice wardrobe of your own," she added with a smile. "Don’t look so surprised love, I don’t have a problem with it and nor should you. I’ll help you get it absolutely right if you like. No one will recognize you when we have it done properly and I think you’ll make stunning young lady!"

"But," I began, surprised that she knew so much about my cross dressing activities, "I don’t think I can pull it off in public!"

"Only one way to find out," she grinned, "go on, be a devil and accept. It’ll be a real blast!"

I argued a bit more, pointing out that it would be daylight, a poolside event and much more and she just laughed and countered them all. Eventually, she persuaded me to get togged up for her so she could see what I could do on my own.

Now I am fortunate in that I am quite slim in build, although the swimming and the martial arts coupled with the dancing have developed my muscles quite well. At just over five eight, I have long legs and a longer than usual neck with small hands and feet. Only in one department do I have a slightly generous build and I had learned the best way to hide it was to use a heavy-duty panty girdle as a foundation when I wished to switch to my alternate persona. This had its drawbacks as I had to be careful about sitting and some movements were tricky if I got things in the wrong position, but, for the most part, it worked fine – certainly around the house anyway!

Going to my room, I stripped and slid into the panty girdle, arranging myself carefully before zipping it closed so it pulled my waist in to a narrow twenty inches, then I pulled on some tights and slipped on the bra I had modified and padded for myself before sitting down at the mirror to make up my face carefully. For this I used a natural tone foundation, light eye shadow and a touch of liner and a light brush over my eyebrows with mascara, finishing off with a light red lipstick and gloss. Then I pulled on my high heeled boots and laced them, slipped on a blouse I had recently bought myself and then, on impulse, selected a short skirt I had been saving for a ‘special occasion’ stepping into it, I zipped myself in and studied my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a bit longer than most boys of my age tend to wear it but, apart from my boy’s hairstyle, the image in the mirror looked quite feminine.

Stepping into the living room I greeted my parent with a nervous, "Hi Mum, does this look OK?"

"Oh my dearest child," she gasped, "OK? You’re so much better than OK! Let me look at you!" She got up and walked toward me her eyes taking in everything about my makeup, my outfit and the way I tried to move. "My dearest, dearest child, you have no idea how lovely you are or how lovely you will be when we get you set up for the barbeque! Did you say they would be swimming as well?"

I nodded still a bit surprised by her reaction – so far from what I had expected that it still hadn’t quite sunk in. "Yes, but I can’t pull that off. I mean a swimsuit is just to revealing!"

"Oh, I think that can be dealt with as well," she smiled. "Leave it to me, I’ll make a few enquiries and see what can be done about it. Now, I think we will need to have you dress like this from now on so you can get properly into the way of it, don’t you?"

"What? I can’t go to school like this!" I exclaimed alarmed.

"Maybe not, but you could go to your job like that and you can certainly dress like that around the house." She paused and studied me with a half smile on her lips, "Tell me, would you prefer to be a woman?"

Confuse by her abrupt question I blushed and stammered incoherently. With a gentle laugh she enfolded me in her arms and gave me a huge hug, saying, "My darling, don’t try to answer all at once. We can give it time and see how you go in a few months or longer." Changing tack she added, "Now, you need a nightie and some more underwear. I have a corselet you can have and some more skirts and blouses, I’ll get those for you and we’ll see what else you need tomorrow."

Giving me another huge hug and a kiss on my cheek she hurried away to her room while, my mind in a whirl, I headed for my own room and sat down on the bed, (wincing as I caught myself at the wrong angle!) and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was still doing so when my mother knocked gently at the door and then entered with an armful of clothes.

The next day I hurried home from school half determined to do as my mother had said and half of me drawing back and wanting to refuse. In the end my desire to please my mother won. I transformed myself carefully into my alter ego, wearing a plain skirt of denim and my favourite boots with a jersey top and a padded jacket, I re-arranged my hair as best I could and then headed nervously to the lab for work.

"Yes Miss," said the Security guard at Reception, "can I help you?"

"I don’t think so Rebecca," I replied, "I work here with Charlene."

"Do I know you," frowned the Guard, "I don’t think…." She stopped with a gasp, "Patrick!" she blurted, then her face creased in a huge smile, "Nice one! Go on then, I just wish I could see Charlene’s face! She reckoned you wouldn’t be up for the party – won’t she be surprised!"

That wasn’t quite what Charlene said, but heck, it did bring work to a standstill for a while and everyone seemed to think I had done exactly right. For simplicities sake, mom and I had agreed that I would simply become Patricia when in role and this went down a treat at work as well.

That evening my mother told me she had made an appointment for me with someone who specialized in male to female makeovers and that she would be coming later. We had just cleared away the supper dishes when the doorbell announced the arrival of the consultant. Mum got the door while I finished clearing and when I returned I found myself under scrutiny from a neatly dressed and rather petite woman of mom’s age. She smiled as I came in and extended her hand, saying, "I see I have a superb model to work with! You will be a real heartbreaker by the time we are finished my dear." Introducing herself a Rose, she wasted no time at all and I found myself stripped to the panty girdle in no time at all!

After measuring me and examining me quite thoroughly she explained what would have to happen, how she would fit me with breast forms and a special brief that would give me the hips and buttocks of a female. She went on to explain that this would incorporate the means to conceal my real sex, giving me the outward appearance of having a vulva. Producing some jars of cream she and my mother ushered me into the bathroom and, first making me remove the panty girdle, covered my entire body in the foul smelling goop they contained. When this was scraped and wiped off, it took with it every vestige of body hair. A shower followed and then a rub down with moisturizing oils. When they had finished this treatment, Rose produced a strange looking pair of shorts, explaining that they were made of a material that simulated skin and allowed the wearers own skin to breath normally through it. I was told to step into them and draw them up, Rose showing me a specially formed ‘tube’ into which I must push my penis. With this done my penis was held out of sight, my testicles concealed and protected by a shield and the only way I could relieve myself now was to squat as a woman. The skin tone of the shorts blended into my own colouration and the joint was visible only because of a slight gape when I bent over.

Once the shorts were properly in place and adjusted to Rose’s satisfaction adhesive was applied to the waist and the legs and I was laughingly told that it would hold for several weeks. "But I only need this for the end of next week!" I protested.

"Well dear," smiled my mother, "If you want to try something, you really have to give it more than a few hours. Come on, do it for you! Let yourself be what you really want to be!"

I made no further protest as they selected breast forms and applied them, again using the powerful adhesive. Once attached the forms looked and felt so real it was amazing and for the moment I forgot about the fact that I would be wearing these to school in the morning! The material blended into my skin so naturally that they really looked as if they were part of me; it was a little disconcerting to see that the detailed areola and nipple was dimpled so the nipple stood proud and the weight of them was a surprise. After putting on some cotton panties and a bra I was allowed to put on a robe (one of my mothers!) and then Rose began to suggest ways of doing my hair so that it lost the tomboy look.

I eventually went to bed, confused, frightened and yet elated to be having the chance to do this – ‘for myself’ as mom had said! The days ahead promised to be interesting and perhaps difficult, but some how knowing my mother supported this made it easier to deal with.

 

School the next day was made less difficult by my having two letters for the teachers to see. The first explained that I was taking part in a ‘sociological experiment’ and the second was from the Human Genome and Gender Research Foundation (where I worked in the afternoons!) confirming the importance of my role and stating that the experiment would be ongoing for some months. Naturally I came in for some teasing at first, but when I pointed out that I was getting paid for it (I wasn’t – but it sounded good at the time) most shut up and left it. It probably helped that they knew I was more than able to defend my ‘honour’ if they pushed it to far and so it got dropped. By the end of the day I was quite happily in role and went home to change for work feeling much more at ease with the ‘new’ me than when I had got up that morning. I was still having difficulty getting used to the weight on my chest and the fact that the shapely forms adorning my upper body seemed to get in the way for a lot of things I did.

Work was even more relaxed as the women there seemed more inclined to encourage me to ‘do it right’ and help me to think and act in a more feminine way. This would be the pattern for the rest of the week both at school and at work. The only really tricky moments came when I went to my usual martial arts session and my friends there weren’t sure of my transformation, and the same thing happened at the dance class. This was soon put aside however, and I was able to simply continue with my usual routine, slightly modified by the presence on my chest of the breast forms and the absence of my usual appendages. In fact, I found that my friends Clive at the dance class and Bruce at the martial arts centre suddenly came over all possessive and protective – something I found a little alarming at first, but then began to enjoy!

Mum and I went shopping at the local mall and I found myself being fitted out with a wide selection of panties and bras, some practical and some sporting with a small selection of daring and exotic undies ‘for the special occasions’ as mom put it. She also insisted I buy two swimsuits, one, a one-piece Speedo for my training and the other a very daringly cut bikini which bordered on the indecent! I protested at this, but mom shushed me saying that to carry off my transformation properly I had to have some things which did a bit more than simply show off my charms. This swimsuit, in my view, screamed ‘come and bed me!’

By the time the barbeque came round, I was so into the role of a woman that I didn’t even have to think about it too much. Even my school friends and acquaintances were so used to me being a girl they had stopped commenting. In fact some were beginning to try and chat me up whenever they thought it would lead somewhere. I was beginning to learn what the girls go through from the clumsy advances of boys on the make!

The day arrived and mom checked my outfit once I was dressed – I was doing a Kate Winslet impersonation – and then checked I had my bikini (I protested again!) pointing out that a film star would be careful to be ‘seen’, and my make-up, comb and all the other accessories a girl needs. Charlene was at the door minutes after we had finished and caste a very approving eye over my turnout.

"Well Trish!" she laughed, "You have really turned out all the stops! You will steel the show on us." To mom she added, "Don’t worry Ms Frances, I’ll make sure she comes to no harm!"

"I’m sure you will Charlene," smiled my mom, "Take care Trish my dear, and don’t get sun burnt!"

The barbeque was a smash. The whole crew from the labs was turned out in style, everyone dressed as their favourite female film star and most of them were really good. I got a lot of compliments about my outfit and the way I was able to carry off the change of gender, but there were gasps of surprise and then cheers when I was finally persuaded to put on the bikini and come out for a swim! To say this garment was more string than clothe is putting it mildly. The bottoms consisted of a narrow back and a very low cut front with narrow bands connecting the two halves. In deep navy it contrasted with the milky whiteness of my skin and the matching tone of the prosthetics I was wearing accentuating the attributes it was supposed to be covering. The top was similar, two small cups which just covered the nipples of my breast forms (their erect nipples now poking through the tight material) held in place by a narrow tape around my back and the thin straps over my shoulders. I’m told it looked stunning (as my mom knew it would be); wearing it I felt that I was parading naked in front of these women. Charlene saw this and made sure that I was put at ease very quickly by handing me a drink and drawing me into a conversation which she expertly lead. In very short order I was not only at my ease, but actually acknowledging that I was enjoying being a girl.

By the evening, I was tired, happy and beginning to wonder what or how a permanent change of gender could be achieved. Charlene stopped by our flat to chat to my mom and joined us for a light supper. She was still there when I went off to bed, my ears still filled with the compliments I had received and my heart bursting with my Mum’s transparent pride as she listened to Charlene telling her how well I had done and what a beautiful daughter I had become. After I had gone to bed, she and Charlene decided on the timetable and the means to give me a permanent ‘transfer’ to femininity.

Unaware of what was being planned for my future I slept.

During the weeks that followed, Charlene visited our home several times. Usually to talk to my mom, but once to get her to sign some papers and twice to take some blood and tissue samples from me and from my mom. When the adhesive started to deteriorate on the prosthetics Mum asked me what I wanted to do, and, with a grin, I told her that I wanted to stay like this a bit longer. So she got Grace in again and between them I was stripped out of the prosthetics and then re-inserted after all the old adhesive had been removed. I didn’t notice at the time, but Mum checked, that my penis seemed to have shrunk slightly and my nipples seemed to be larger.

My dates with Clive had taken on a very definite boy/girl relationship, but we went no further than kissing – after I had got over my initial reluctance to kiss another boy! After a couple of dates with Bruce, things took a different turn. He wanted to know what it was like to be a girl! Once we’d worked up some trust on this I invited him home and helped him ‘dress up’ for the first time. Soon I was buying things for him and storing them so that when he visited, he could go straight to his things and change. Then we could spend the afternoon or the evening just being girls together.

At work Charlene asked if I would like to be a real woman. I laughed and said yes, but added that I knew it wasn’t possible without surgery and then I would still be a male – just without the male bits! Charlene shook her head and said, "No, that may have been the case a few years ago, but thanks to the work we are doing here it is now possible to do a complete change without surgery. It needs some preparation but it does work!" She smiled at me and added, "You still want to go that way?"

I hesitated.

Role-playing like this was one thing, going over the whole way full time was another. Then I thought of the fun I was having dating Clive and Bruce. Slowly the idea formed in my head that taking this option would simplify a whole range of things for us all. "Yes," I said softly, "Yes, I think I would like to go for it. I know it would make my Mum very happy – and I think it would make my boyfriends even happier!"

"Very likely!" she laughed. "OK, we’ll make a start then. Come with me to Dr Barnet’s lab. She’ll give you the kick-starter!"

Kick-starter was a good description. It was in fact a genetic rewrite! As explained to me, it was a double whammy that removed the Y-chromosome from my genes and added the missing X. It had a number of strange effects not least being to make me rather hornier than before and made me boy crazy! It was during this phase that I crossed the first taboo line – I wanted Clive so badly, I gave him oral sex and tasted spunk for the first time ever. Soon blood tests showed I was generating female hormones rather than male ones and I noticed that the breast forms seemed to be growing. At regular intervals I would be examined and given booster shots or supplemental shots designed to bring about certain tissue changes. Then, some three months later came the BIG step.

Dr Barnet came to see us at home and informed me that I was now ready for the final stage. This had to be done in a controlled environment and meant I would have to spend time in the lab where she and her team could monitor me and ensure it all worked properly. Mum consented after being assured that the transfer would require no more than a month in the lab for me and that she would have access at all times. So, the next morning found me in the lab being stripped of all prosthetics and prepared for immersion in what they called ‘the tank’ but which, to me at any rate, resembled a coffin!

Once all the prosthetics had been removed it was obvious that I had developed a pair of small but growing breasts of my own. In addition, my penis had shriveled to a small stub that now pointed downwards and was almost completely hidden in the folds of skin that had once formed my foreskin and scrotum. Of my testicles there was no sign. "Don’t worry," said Dr Barnet when I asked about that, "they have been withdrawn into your body and are already well on the way to becoming ovaries. This process will speed that up along with the formation of your vagina, labia and fallopian tubes. You will feel some strange pulls and twists as it happens, but," she grinned, "you’ll be strapped into the tank and won’t have any real discomfort."

"Strapped in?" I asked dubiously.

"Yes, we have to strap you down during the final process so that nothing gets displaced. You could end up with two vaginas if you moved at the wrong moment!" she laughed. "Now, we’re all set so it’s time to get you into position."

What followed was like something out of a sci-fi movie. Fitting a rubber hood over my head they inserted breathing tubes into my nostrils and a large gag-like device into my mouth. This completely blindfolded me so that I could not resist as they placed me in the ‘tank’ and secured my arms and legs away from my body. Something was placed over my crutch and then the tank was filled with a soft warm jelly-like substance. This would be the routine for the next three weeks, each day I would spend longer in the tank, and each day the changes would be more noticeable. Starting on that very first day, I began to experience orgasmic feelings. The first was quite mild and I wondered what it was that I was experiencing. It was pleasant and made me thrust hard against the form covering my genitals, and I felt it peak and then fade gently as the day’s treatment came to an end. With each treatment this grew more pronounced and I began to actually look forward to it and then try to hold the sensation going for as long as I could.

By the second week I had a fully formed vulva and labia. I learned to that I now had a fully functional clitoris and – contrary to popular belief – that it extended into the mons veneris at the front and through the inner lips of my vulva so that the whole inner vulva and part of the Mons Veneris were connected with the nub nestled in its warm moist hood of the labia minora. As this developed the intensity of the orgasms increased and I would emerge from the tank in a post-orgasmic haze of pure pleasure. Dr Morgan actually commented that I was enjoying the treatment far too much, "If we’re not careful, my dear, we could make you a nymphomaniac!" she laughed, "That would never do!"

"But its soooo nice," I sighed with a giggle, "Is it this good all the time?"

"Mmmm, depends on your partner. Sometimes its fantastic and sometimes just so frustrating you want to scream!" she grinned, adding, "If its woman to woman its always good, with men, it’s a lottery!"

By the end of that week my vagina had opened up and formed linking to my newly formed womb. In the fourth week I had my first period and discovered what that was like and all about PMT!

The sensations as some of the changes occurred were quite pleasant, others quite disturbing. I felt my breasts enlarging, they were quite tender for a while and the nipples became so sensitive I could not bear to have anything touch them. The sensations as my clitoris developed were quite beyond description! So was the feeling as the vaginal tubes grew and joined up with my growing uterus and ovarian system. The strangest was the feeling of floppiness around my hips as the bones spread, the pelvic arch enlarged and the organs adjusted to new positions. The stretching of tissue around this as my buttocks filled out and the skin remolded itself over my new pudendum, were largely lost in the sensations other changes created in this region.

By the end of the fourth week of the treatment my hips had widened to feminine proportions, my buttocks filled out to a classic ‘apple’ shape and my pelvis opened up. My breasts were now a respectable B cup and the nipples proudly crowned the domes of the surrounding areola. Exactly a month after it started, I was fully female.

Two days later I celebrated my sixteenth birthday at a barbeque held by the Foundation staff to welcome me to womanhood. My mother shed tears of happiness as I cut the cake wearing the bikini she had insisted on those few months before and thanked everyone for giving me the chance to fulfill my dream. Clive was there as a guest of honour and so was Bruce, now dressed as a girl and wearing the sort of prosthetics I had until recently been using. While Clive was like a bee round the honey pot, Bruce, now calling himself Beth was eager to know how it felt to be ‘a proper woman’. Kissing Clive generously on the mouth so that his excitement began to show, I laughed and told them, it felt really wonderful!

That night I gave my virginity to Clive and discovered what it was like to be penetrated and loved for the very first time. The orgasm which came with it was good, but not great – that we hit with the second time around half an hour later!

 

 

© 2001

The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.