Priscilla                    by: Janet L. Stickney

 

He was wearing his sisters clothes when his Mother found him. He was fully decked out in her best ball gown, heels, jewelry, and wearing full makeup. They started at each other for a minute before she found her voice.

"I wondered who was getting into our clothes and getting makeup on them! Now I have my answer!"

He stood, rooted to the spot afraid to move or say anything because his Mother had a temper that was legendary in the family. She walked around him slowly taking in how he looked and what he was wearing.

"You know that Camille will have to have a new dress now don’t you?"

It was a rhetorical question because he knew that his sister always wore a new dress to the annual ball at the country club.

"I think that we should go show everyone what you are wearing to the ball." That woke him up!

"But… but Mother! This is a dress! I can’t wear this to the ball!"

"Not only will you wear this dress to the ball, I think that in preparation for the ball you should stay dressed everyday until then."

He started to say something but he words choked in his throat when he looked at her.

Paul was 19, a year older than his sister, slim and trim as were most of the men in his family. From his Grandfather he had inherited a hairless body and a very light beard, and from his Mother her blonde hair and blue eyes. She took his hand and headed for the door. He wanted desperately to resist her, tell her that he wasn’t going to do it, but for some reason he did not. He was led down the wide spiral staircase and into the sitting room where his sister and her friend Catherine were sitting. As soon as they saw him they jumped up and started to laugh.

"Oh Mother! He’s adorable!"

His sister had always suspected that he was the one damaging her clothes but she could never prove it, so when she saw him dressed in her best ball gown she had several nasty thoughts enter her head.

"Was he dressed like this when you found him Mother?"

"Oh yes. I have decided that he will attend the ball wearing this dress, and to help him get ready for the big event he will wear nothing but female clothing until then."

He hung his head in shame. Not only his Mother and sister knew about him, but Catherine as well, and soon, everyone else.

"Starting right now I will supervise what ‘she’ wears. Right now we need a name for her."

He had always liked the name Carolyn, but his sister suggested Priscilla.

"It’s feminine, and fits a prissy little boy that wants to dress like a girl Mom."

She nodded her head, and from then on he would be called Priscilla.

"Let’s go upstairs Priscilla and get you changed into a day dress."

His Mother’s tone of voice made it a command rather than a request, so he followed her up the stairs, holding the hem of the swirling skirt high so he would not trip over it.

She watched as he took off the dress, seeing that he wore his own briefs, pantyhose, and a bra under the dress.

"Take the rest off Priscilla, we’ll have to do this right so you can get the feel of how to do it right."

Once he was naked except for his briefs she took him into her bathroom and started with a cream that she smeared all over him.

"Stand right there for 30 minutes. I’ll lay out your clothes and be back."

The cream smelled terrible and began to itch after a while, but he had no choice but to stand there. When she returned she watched as he stood under the shower head. Every trace of hair disappeared from his body.

"Wash your hair while your in there and shave as close as possible. I’ll wait out here."

With a towel wrapped around him, he stepped into his Mothers bedroom. The first thing she did was to have him stand still while she laced a corset around him, pulling the laces as tight as she could.

"Raise your arms and take a deep breath dear."

As soon as he did, she pulled the laces even tighter. He could hardly breathe but she ignored his pained face and had him sit and pull on hose. She helped him clip the garters from the corset to the hose, adjusted the tension, and after he stood up she handed him a pair of ruffled panties that went part way down his legs. They had small blue bows at the leg openings which she tied in a double knot with a bow. His chest, compressed by the corset gave him a some small amount of breast which she enhanced by manipulating the skin in the cups of the bra, and pushing in small foam pads that she put under his own breasts.

"Sit over here Priscilla."

He sat at her vanity while she used a curling iron and blow dryer on his moderately long hair. She did the front first, told him to stay there, and went to her closet returning with a fall that closely matched his hair color. She used a thin comb to pull his own hair through the netting, tying several knots in it. After she was done he had hair that went down his back, cascading over his shoulders in a blonde cape. It took her only minutes to create a bun on the back of his head with tendrils of hair hanging like a sign of his submission to her.

For makeup she used a foundation brushed with powder, a soft blue eyeshadow to accent his eyes, and deep black eyeliner both above and below his eyes. He had to do the mascara himself, but she watched him like a hawk making sure her put on several coats so that his lashes were dark and sexy. The blusher was a soft pink that she blended on his face, giving him a glowing young girl look. The dress she had selected for him to wear was a light blue and white, a mass of satin and lace that looked as if it came directly from the antebellum south. She helped him slip it over his head and after the zipper was closed, she did up the 12 buttons in the back, making sure he could not get the dress off. Around his waist she used a soft blue sash that was held in place by a 2" square rhinestone buckle. Around his neck went a rhinestone necklace that hung between his breasts, the stone a shiny white with blue accents. She pulled the shoes out of the closet and had him step into them. They were blue to match the dress and had a rhinestone clip on the toe. Lastly, she had him pull on elbow gloves of white. She fastened the 20 buttons on each one and tied the blue sash at the elbow leaving a bow. On his left wrist she put on a rhinestone bracelet. Then she used a needle to pierce his ears and slipped in some blue and white rhinestone dangle type earrings.

"Before we go back downstairs Priscilla," She spritzed him with some perfume! "Now you can look in the mirror."

It was the very first time he saw his dream girl come to life, and he was excited and scared at the same time.

"This is how you will dress every day from now on Priscilla. I helped you today, and I’ll help you getting the dresses on, but you will have to learn to do your own makeup and hair. Now, come with me. Carolyn and Catherine are waiting."

He looked like a southern belle but felt like a sausage in that corset. He was proud of the way he looked and knew that if his Mother was going to make him dress this way every day then he had to show that he was proud too. He stood straight, gathered up his skirts, and whisked by his Mother, walked down the huge staircase by himself, and went straight to the sitting room. He stood there as his sister and her friend gaped at what they saw. He looked every inch the demure young debutante! The low cut dress showed just enough of his cleavage to hint at the rest, his waist, narrowed by the corset and the flaring skirt of the dress hanging just inches from the floor combined to make him shapely and with his additional hair, he looked radiant.

"Damn! You look better than half the girls I know Priscilla!"

Camille took her brothers hands in hers and held them tight.

"All you need to make it perfect is an escort to the ball. In fact, maybe we can enter you as this years debutante from our family!"

Just then their Mother walked in and immediately said that she thought it was an excellent idea.

"I’ll look into it. If we have time, Priscilla will represent us at the ball, our families debutante this year!"

He felt his knees go weak and started to collapse, but Camille caught her.

"I think she’s having a faint Mom."

"Sit her down over here dear, she’ll recover."

Priscilla sat there until she began to feel better, and sat up straight.

"You have to get used to the corset dear. Breath shallow and you’ll feel better."

"Why not loosen the laces a bit Mother?"

"Because if you are going to be a debutante you will have to have the tiniest waist possible. In a month you will think that what you have now is loose. I intend for you to have a 20" waist before the ball because after we adjust the length, you will wear my wedding gown and I had a 20" waist back then."

He wondered why, if they had to shorten the dress, can’t they let it out some, but that option wasn’t offered and he was still afraid to bring it up.

"You know you’re just like you Father Priscilla. I caught him dressed as a woman with another man just before I divorced him. It looks like it runs in the family."

His Mother left the room, leaving him with his sister and Catherine.

"Lets have a party to introduce Priscilla to everyone!"

Camille was excited at the prospect of a party and she went to the phone and started to call all of their friends, including the guys. Priscilla wanted to sink into the carpet but knew that without fail, no matter what he did or said, he would be wearing dresses for at least the next 6 weeks! She was going to end up as the families debutante at the annual Ball, so she sat there with her hands in her lap watching her sister plot to embarrass her with a party.

When his Mother heard about a party, she told Camille and Catherine that they could not tell anyone about Priscilla, and that meant they could not tell everyone that she was actually her brother.

"You can have a nice party, but if you two give away Priscilla, then we can’t have her in the Ball as a debutante, and that would really make me mad."

Camille was angry because she really wanted to embarrass her brother, but fear of her Mother stopped that idea short. Priscilla on the other hand didn’t want to go to any party, but since she had no choice in the matter, she asked her Mother if she could wear some more contemporary clothes.

"She’s right Mother. In that ball gown she’ll stick out like a sore thumb."

"Okay, but she has to be dressed in a very feminine style Camille."

"I have just the dress Mom!"

They helped her out of the dress and most of her undergarments.

"I should take a shower Camille. I smell bad, so undo the corset and you can help me get it back on later."

She hated letting him out of the corset, but he had a point, so she untied the laces and watched as he went into the bath. Priscilla knew that if she was not perfect at this party the kids that Camille and Catherine had invited would make her life unendurable, so she started with a hot bubblebath, letting the scented oils soak into her skin making her feel not only fresh, but more feminine. She didn’t need to shave, so after she dried off she returned to the bedroom and saw that Camille or his Mother had laid a pile of clothes on the bed. The panties were red, in a high cut French style. She slipped them on and opened the makeup case on the bed, grabbing it she went into the bath and began her makeup.

Because she had secretly been dressing up for a long time, she had also mastered the art of makeup. She used soft pastel colors. A light blue on her eyelids with a plum highlight. Under her eyebrow she used a soft coral, blending all of the colors to eliminate any layered look. Using a deep black eyeliner she outlined her eyes easily, making them seem wider and more open. On her cheeks she used a soft rose and matted it with a damp sponge. She had just walked back in her room when her Mother walked in.

"I see I’m just in time to lace you up! Turn around."

Priscilla did as she was told, and her Mother once again fastened the corset around her, laced the stays tight, and knotted them in the back.

"Do you need any other help Priscilla?"

"No, I can manage Mother."

After she had left his room she sat on the bed and fastened the hose to the garters, adjusted the tension, and stood in front of the mirror. He took the small foam pads and pushed them under his own breasts, manipulating the skin to create a better cleavage. When he was satisfied he pulled the dress off the bed and over his head, settling it on his shoulders, reached around behind and pulled the zipper closed. The material closed around him and as he looked in the mirror he smiled at his reflection. The dress was a chemise that was just above his knees, with a square cut neckline, and sleeveless. It was plain with no piping or other trim, but his now long blonde hair was in bright contrast to the red, so all he needed was some jewelry and shoes. On the floor he saw a pair of red heels, so he stepped into them. They were just a tiny bit tight, but he liked the way the made his legs look. He opened the door and went to his Mothers room and found her sitting on her lounge chair.

"Mother, can I borrow some jewelry please? And maybe redo my hair?"

He looked wonderful and she knew her son liked being dressed as a girl more than she had figured. She had begun by forcing him to stay dressed, but now she knew that he would have done it willingly if she had allowed it. All she had done by forcing the issue is give him an excuse. If anyone asked, he could, without lying, say that she had made him dress this way.

With a sigh she had him sit at her vanity while she brushed out his hair so that it hung around his shoulders. She trimmed his bangs so they lay flat across his forehead. It was a simple style, one that he could manage by himself. She gave him a gold choker necklace that had a gold and red pendant that would hang between his breasts. In his ears she helped him change to a simple, gold hoop earring. On his left wrist went a gold watch and on his right a gold bracelet. She gave him the perfume and watched as he generously spritzed himself, smiling as he did so. Camille and Catherine came in the room, not expecting the beauty that stood in front of them.

"Damn! He looks pretty good Camille!"

She could only nod her head, all thoughts of making him the butt of a joke disappearing, but she was committed to the party, so she smiled and took Priscilla’s hand and started to walk out of the room with Catherine right behind them.

"You girls cannot give her away, understand?" They both nodded their heads yes. "I alone will decide on how she dresses and so on. You can suggest, but that is all."

Camille didn’t like it, nor did Catherine, but they knew that if they disobeyed her, they could easily end up in some sort of similar predicament.

Priscilla was gaining courage the longer she was dressed, knowing that she looked as good as many of the other girls, better in fact than some, so she showed no fear as the guests started to arrive. Camille and Catherine introduced Priscilla to everyone and left her to herself. One of the young men managed to corner Priscilla, and because she didn’t know how to turn off a guy, she was at his mercy. His name was Winston, and he was one of Camille’s snobbish friends. He tended to think of everyone that was not of "his" social standing as a worker bee; the kind of person that was to be used, not admired for their skills. He was in fact gay, but he hid it very well and nobody knew, at least that he could tell. By cornering Priscilla, he was trying to bolster his image of a woman chaser even though he had no attraction to women. But, he had to admit that while Priscilla looked familiar, she was a real nice looking girl, one that any guy would be proud to have on his arm. Her Mother rescued her from Winston, taking her into the alcove so she could talk to her son.

"You’re going to have to have an escort for the Ball and I expect you to ask one of these young men to escort you. So unless you have another candidate, go out there and turn on the charm and get yourself an escort to the Ball."

Priscilla liked to wear the clothes but she wasn’t so sure about having a gentleman friend. The thought of it terrified her because she was so scared of discovery, but her Mother had put her in this position that she would have to experience being a woman totally. Knowing she had no choice, she stood straight and looked for Camille. His sister would be the perfect one to introduce her to one of the guys, one she could select. If he was even the least bit interested, he knew that Camille would push the relationship and he would have an escort to the Ball.

"Camille darling! Why are you hogging the attention of this handsome man? Are you trying to have all of the fun by yourself?"

Priscilla’s comments threw Camille momentarily, but she recovered nicely and introduced Priscilla to the guy she was talking to.

"This is Michael Von Dornweir. Michael, this is Priscilla."

He took her hand and kissed it, but he didn’t release it right away and Priscilla was certain that she had taken away a prime candidate of his sisters. He was polite, asking Camille to excuse them while he got Priscilla a drink. Camille didn’t stomp away, but Priscilla could see that she was angry with her. Someone put music on and he didn’t ask, but swept her into his arms and started dancing. Surprised at the ease at which she was able to follow him, she actually enjoyed the dance! As Camille and Catherine watched, Michael stayed near to Priscilla for the rest of the afternoon, several times losing sight of them when he took her into the garden.

Priscilla had started to worry less about being dressed as a girl and more about what to do if Michael kissed her. He had certainly paid her a lot of attention, so she was sure that he would try. He always seemed to be watching her, a smile on his face. By the time the afternoon party was coming to a close, Priscilla had worked up the nerve to ask him to be her escort to the Ball.

"I’d consider it an honor Priscilla!"

He kissed her hand again and left with many of the other guests. Priscilla’s Mother came in and asked her if she had managed to get an escort, and to her surprise Priscilla answered yes.

"Yes Mother. Michael Von Dornweir has agreed to be my escort."

With that Priscilla left for her room leaving Camille, Catherine and her Mother all speechless.

Priscilla was proud of herself because she had taken away some of her Mother and sisters venom by simply being herself. She wanted to change out of the red dress but didn’t have anything else to wear, so she asked her Mother if she could change into a simple skirt and blouse.

"Of course dear. I’ll come help you change."

They walked up the wide staircase and into Priscilla’s room.

"I noticed that several times you were taking a mans stride. That was very unladylike, so I have decided that you need a thigh trainer from now on. Let’s get you undressed and I’ll get it for you."

Having never heard of a thigh trainer, and even though it sounded simple, she knew that her Mother would not give up so easily. Standing in her room wearing the corset, hose, and heels, she waited for her Mother to return.

The thigh trainer was a heavy cloth collar with a short, heavy cloth that went between her legs. Her Mother fastened them halfway up her thigh and secured the collars.

"From now on you can wear anything in my closet that fits you. You must wear the trainer all of the time except in bed and the bath. That, and the corset are requirements I insist on. Now find something to wear and come back to the sitting room."

After she left, Priscilla tried walking with the restraint on. For the first few steps she felt like she would fall over, but she quickly learned to take smaller steps. She chose a blue shirtwaist dress, changed her shoes to white flats, and went to try the stairs. The trainer allowed just enough movement to manage the stairs if she was careful. Camille and Catherine had left, leaving Priscilla and her Mother alone.

Because of the training bar Priscilla had to almost mince when she walked which, at the same time caused her to swing her hips, much like a female, and caused her to have her knees together whenever she sat down. By the end of the day she was well and truly tired of the thigh trainer and corset, but she knew it was just the beginning. If Camille or her Mother could think of anything else they would have her doing it right away. She was right. The next morning just as she woke up, her Mother was there to greet her.

"You go take your bath. When you return I will help you get the corset on and help you get dressed."

Priscilla had guessed right. Besides being laced into the corset and wearing the thigh trainer, there was more. Once again she had to wear a ball gown type dress. This one was off the shoulder in a creamy white satin with 6 petticoats under it. After she had the hose on she had more knee length ruffled panties handed to her. Her Mother tied the bows at the knees and helped her get the dress on. It didn’t have a zipper, instead it had 32 buttons that went up the back! Elbow gloves, a small bonnet, and a sash that went around her waist. The shoes were 5" high making it hard for Priscilla to stand let alone walk! Her makeup was done after she was dressed because she wasn’t allowed to wear much. For lipstick her Mother insisted that she wear a deep red. After she was done, standing there, the thigh trainer was attached.

"I saw you swinging your arms a little to much dear. This will help."

What "this" was, was a thin white satin strap that went between her elbows. At her elbows a white satin covered leather collar was fastened just above each elbow and the satin strap threaded between the two, making it hard for her to have much movement, and not allowing her to raise her arms hardly at all. There was enough room for her to eat and that was about all. On the collars her Mother fastened some rhinestone clips.

"There! Now you can learn to walk and have your arm movements like any woman of class!"

Priscilla hated it in a way, but in another she knew she could improve her feminine posture and movements easier this way, so she thanked her Mother!

"It’s wonderful Mother! Now I can get used to being more demure this way." Once again it seemed that Priscilla had won.

Every day for the next two weeks Priscilla had to endure the thigh trainer, corset, and elbow restraints, but she had become so used to them that she no longer needed them. Her waist, progressively made smaller by the corset was now at 20", just as her Mother decided she had to be. By then, it was more than plain to her Mother that Priscilla actually had become more feminine than her daughter Camille, and relented on the kinds of clothes that she would have to wear, and the thigh and elbow restraints were taken off. Michael had called her several times for lunch, but her Mother would not let her go because she was not yet ready. Today, Priscilla knew, she would be allowed to have lunch with him, so she started the day with a very thorough hair removal. The fall she had been wearing was not needed because her own hair had grown enough to have it styled in a nice pageboy. Using tweezers, she arched her own eyebrows into a more feminine arch while thinning them at the same time.

She started with her corset because she had gotten so used to it that she felt naked without it; but this time she was the one to pull the laces tight. She moved her flesh around and created her cleavage and pulled on a pair of pink satin panties. Today she decided to wear pantyhose, and pulled them on easily over her silky smooth skin. She sat at a vanity that had been installed in her room and started her makeup. A light foundation with a powder that gave her skin a nice smooth, matte finish. On her eyes she used a soft blue with a copper highlight. Her eyeliner was a deep black, under her eye she used a black pencil to complete the wide eyed look just before she applied her mascara, then used an eyelash curler to make her eyes soft and sexy. A dab of a soft pink blusher on her cheeks and she was ready to get dressed.

She had selected a suit. The skirt was gray with a pleated front, the blouse white with a sheer insert over her breasts in a lacy design. The jacket was pink, fitted to accent her new shape. After she was dressed she stepped into the 3" black patent leather heels and walked to the dresser where she selected a pair of small pearl earrings and necklace set, put on her gold watch, and used a gold pin with a cameo to dress up her jacket. She was liberal with her perfume, then did her mouth in a soft rose that matched her nails which she had done the night before. On her hand she put on the three rings her Mother had given her. Smiling at her reflection, Priscilla grabbed her purse, now with a woman’s wallet inside to replace her old male one. She put her lipstick inside with a small mirror and some tissue, opened the door, and walked downstairs.

Her Mother saw her coming and went to greet her.

"I have to say Priscilla, at first I wanted to embarrass you by making you dress as a girl all of the time, telling you that you were going to be our families debutante this year. I never expected you to actually ask some man to be your escort. Now that you have done that I guess that you really will be our debutante this year."

Priscilla smiled at her Mother, standing there so well dressed, just like any young woman who had a luncheon date.

"Thank you Mother. I know, or at least suspected what you were trying to do. It was Camille that I was worried about. If you had let her, I would have been the laughing stock around here and had to move to avoid it. That’s why I always took great pains to look nice; it made it easier for me to ignore her, and made her realize that I did like dressing as a girl no matter what she said."

"You have a nice lunch Priscilla. I’ll take care of Camille if she starts to plan or do anything that embarrasses you."

Michael’s car drove up right then and after a quick kiss from her Mother, Priscilla left the house for her very first date. He sat in the back seat and let the chauffeur open the door for her. She sat next to him, excited and still unsure how to react to a mans attention. He made her uneasy with his good looks. He had dark wavy hair over piercing brown eyes, a strong muscular chest and a smile that would melt ice.

"I’ve made reservations at Chauncy’s for us. I hope you like it."

Priscilla had heard about the place. It was very a chic and upscale restaurant.

"I’m sure I will Michael. I hear it’s very nice."

He pulled her closer to him and put his arm around her. They rode in silence, only the soft music in the background to hide the sounds of the car as it took them too lunch.

He never made any type of move on her, but he treated her with respect and she loved it. She had turned the tables on his sister and become a woman that could attract a handsome man. After he had dropped her off at home, she went to her bedroom to change and found her Mother there.

"Have a nice time dear?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. He is a very nice man."

"That’s nice, and a good thing that you like him so much because you and he are going to be married right after the Ball. It’s all arranged. His Mother and I have decided that you two are the perfect couple. Now all we have to do is get your trousseau together."

"Married! I can’t marry a man Mother! When he finds out what I am he’ll kill me!"

In a pout Priscilla went to the window and looked out on the huge yard.

"Yes dear, you will marry him, and you will be a lovely bride. It’s been decided, so you have two choices. You can walk willingly down the aisle, or we will dress you, truss you up like a hog and carry you down the aisle. Either way, you are going to get married one week after the Ball."

Priscilla was not in any position to resist her Mother and she knew it, but she had to try to persuade her against this marriage at least one more time.

"Have you thought about me? He’s strong and will tear me apart when he finds out I’m a man just like him!"

"No dear. Not a man. A male. You are a woman. A male woman granted, but a woman just the same." Her Mother went on as if it was a mere formality that her son was getting married to another man. "Since you’ll wear my wedding dress to get married in, you’ll need a new dress for the Ball, and I have made reservations for you to be fitted at Maxine’s tomorrow at 9 in the morning. I’ll be up at 7 to help you get ready."

Priscilla wanted to run away, but had no place to go, and all of her male clothes had been taken from her closet, replaced by dresses, skirts, suits, and blouses in a rainbow of colors. In her dresser she found bras, girdles, pantyhose, corsets, slips, and assorted nightgowns, panties and other intimate items only women wore. All of her shoes had been replaced with heels and flats, her jewelry box was now filled with earrings, necklaces, bracelets, barrettes, and pins. She had nothing to wear except female clothing! Sitting on the bed she wondered just how her Mother planned to pull this one off! She changed into a shirtwaist dress and went back downstairs, got a glass of iced tea, and sat on the back patio to think this through.

She didn’t come to any conclusion except that she was about to be married to a man that she barely knew, and their Mothers had engineered the whole thing! The next morning she was awakened at 6 so she could get ready. As soon as she stepped out of the bath her Mother was there, holding a new corset.

"This is for you dear. It will help you a lot more with your figure."

He stood still as she fastened it around him. As she pulled the laces tight he experienced the constricting pull of the heavy material, just like he did the first time she wore a corset. When she was done, she measured her waist and found that she was now a perfect 18". She had to breathe shallow and could hardly bend at the waist, but her chest had been pushed into the cups of the built in bra so much that she filled the B size cups! The she handed him a thin leather sheath, it use evident.

"Put this on dear and I’ll make sure it stays on."

He slipped it on and her Mother took the two thin leather straps and pulled them between her legs and tied them to the corset tightly, using a double knot.

"Now we can get some panties on you."

She was handed a pair of ruffled panties in pink that she stepped into. Once she had them on she was handed the hose which she rolled on and fastened to the garters and adjusted the tension.

"Now we can use this!"

It was the thigh trainer! Only this time her Mother had attached the two collars together with a clip! Priscilla could not move at all! A chair was pushed under her and her Mother started doing her makeup and hair, but as little as she could get away with, saying:

"Your having your hair, makeup and nails done today as well, so there’s no point in hiding under your own makeup Priscilla. This will do fine until we get there.

A full skirted 5 layer petticoat was slipped over her head, followed by a knee length dress that was powder blue with a very low cut neckline that showed a lot of her now ample breasts. The dress was buttoned up the back and as Priscilla was standing there, jewelry was put on her, then her hands were secured to the waist of the dress by a blue satin sash. On her feet her Mother slipped on some blue satin shoes with 4" heels.

"I think we’re ready now, I’ll call the men to carry you to the car."

It was humiliating for her to be carried by the butler, but as soon as she started to complain, her Mother held up a gag and Priscilla got quiet.

"You’ll just have to trust me Priscilla; this is really for your own good. Now sit there and be silent!"

With the threat of a gag, she stayed quiet, watching as they were driven to town. Instead of going to a dress shop as she had thought, they stopped at a small clinic. The driver carried her inside and into a waiting examination room. Her Mother helped her get the dress and slip and corset off, then had her lie down. Then she fastened her sons wrists to the sides of the table.

"I’ll be right outside dear. Just stay calm and do what the doctor says."

Priscilla watched as the door closed, wondering just what was going on.

The doctor was an older man, who, when he came in, smiled at her and quickly put a needle in her arm. She could see him opening a drawer and getting out some instruments just before she passed out. When she awoke, she saw that there was a sheet over her, with twin mounds holding it up. She tried to raise her hands, but they were still tied to the table so she lay there wondering what else besides breasts they had done to her. An hour later her Mother came in and released her arms.

"You can sit up now Priscilla."

Her Mother held the mirror for her as she saw the doctors handy work. On her chest were two perfectly formed breasts!

"They’re a B cup Priscilla, perfect for your size. As she sat there her Mother put the corset in a bag and helped her put on a sports bra, then put the dress and slip back on. Now, her own breasts strained against the material, swelling into a lot more cleavage than she had before.

"I had planned on a dress fitting today but the doctor says to wait a week at least, so we will go see your Aunt instead."

The thigh trainer was taken off and she was allowed to walk by herself, but with every step she was acutely aware of her new breasts bouncing. At first she was dismayed, but then she began to like them, and smiled to herself. Her Aunt had a 13 year old son named Marvin and he was a brat first class. Priscilla had never liked the kid, but since they seldom saw each other that was okay. They walked to the house and were admitted by Veronica, his Aunt.

"Oh you look wonderful Priscilla! Come in! I have someone I want you to meet."

They went out to the rear patio where a table had been sit up for tea and cakes.

"Marilyn! Come out here, I want you to meet Priscilla." A young girl of about 13 walked out to Veronica. "This is Marilyn. When I heard about you I knew that Marilyn would want to meet you."

Priscilla looked at the child and realized that it was Marvin!

"But that’s…!"

"Yes. It is. He had been such trouble that when I heard about you in dresses I tried it on him, and it has worked wonders."

Marilyn was wearing a pink and white dress that was knee length, with a white lace collar and lace trim at the hem. It was short sleeved and buttoned up the back. She had white socks with pink trim and black Maryjanes on, her hair was done in pigtails with a pink ribbon laced in. It was also obvious that she was wearing a bra, her small breasts just poking at the thin material.

"Marilyn will be your flower girl for the wedding, which I hear will be right after the Ball. I hope that she has grown enough by then or she’ll need to be augmented like you were today."

Veronica was smiling at her son when she said it, but it was clear that he didn’t know what she was talking about, so Priscilla’s Mother told him.

"She means breast implants dear. Small ones to be sure, but you have to be a big girl to wear the flower girl dress we have picked out for you."

Marilyn stepped back and started to say something, then she went rigid and stood perfectly still.

"A dogs training collar on her thigh. It gives her a small jolt and makes her quite polite."

Priscilla didn’t want one of those on her leg and looked at her Mother.

"No dear, you don’t need one now. After all, look at you. Narrow waist and a wonderful cleavage. Who would ever guess that you are a male now?"

The two women compared notes while Marilyn and Priscilla sat there listening.

"It’s settled then. A week from today the girls get fitted for the Ball and the wedding."

After they plans were confirmed, Priscilla and her Mother left, for home she thought, but she was taken to another clinic instead. She was told to sit in a chair much like the kind found in a dentists office, her head clamped so she could not move, and shielded goggles put over her eyes. She didn’t hear anything, but she could smell the burning hair. When she was released from the chair her face hurt all over and was slightly swollen.

"We removed all of your beard and permanently arched your eyebrows for you dear. You can go now."

The woman smiled at her as he left the office, finding her Mother in the waiting room.

"I think we can go home now Priscilla, you look awfully tired." That was an understatement!

"Since you no longer have any need, or ability, to hide your feminine self, I suggest that you follow the doctors instructions and get used to your new body. You may take off all of the restraints and change if you wish."

Priscilla undressed carefully until she was naked, and looked in the mirror. The stitches were small and would dissolve in a few days leaving almost no scar to reveal that she had implants. She felt them, finding them soft yet firm, pliable and sexy. She put on the soft bra, changed into a skirt and blouse and went back downstairs.

For the rest of the week she was allowed to heal and get used to the breasts that were now a part of her. Not needing to shave had given her a glowing complexion that needed barely any makeup. Camille had insisted that she be allowed to see Priscilla’s breasts, and after her Mother also insisted, she bared herself to her sister.

"Damn Mother! They are bigger than mine, and I am a girl!"

"But she needed the help dear. It will help her become more feminine."

Priscilla started to smile, but held back because she really did love the changes that her Mother had managed to commit her to but she didn’t want anyone to know.

A week later Priscilla was told to dress for the fitting.

"Wear a corset of course, but you may wear a suit or dress if you like."

That was unusual because her Mother usually picked out her clothes for her. She elected to wear the pink suit again, and presented herself in the living room ready to go.

"You look very nice dear. Let’s go."

Camille joined them and the three of them drove to the dress shop to be fitted. Priscilla was told to strip to her panties and stand on a small dais. The fitter measured her waist, bust, hips, height, across her shoulders, and the length of her leg. Camille was giggling at the sight of her brother with breasts when her Mother told her to strip as well.

"Now?"

A nod of the head left no doubt, and Camille stripped to her panties and stood next to Priscilla, who could see for herself that she did indeed have better boobs than her sister! Camille hated it, but she also was measured. Priscilla was first of course. The fitter wrapped a different corset around her and after she hooked it up began to tighten the laces. This corset did not have a built in bra because the dress didn’t need it, but it was made to hold her breasts up and together. The dress was an example of sheer lace and white satin taken to extremes. The bodice was tight across the middle, flaring at the waist into a train at least 10 feet long. The top was low cut but covered by sheer lace and had pearls set in sequins sewn all over it.

"The waist is to sloppy, but I’ll take that in. She’ll have to wear 5" heels to make it the right length or I have to trim it, the choice is yours."

"She’ll wear the heels Maggie."

Priscilla knew she looked very nice and when she saw herself in the mirror she knew that just having the chance to wear it was worth the possible harm Michael might cause her when he found out her secret.

While Camille was being fitted with a Maid of Honor dress, Priscilla and her Mother picked out the dress for the Ball. It was also white, but much lower cut, with a different design in the lace. As they were looking Veronica and Marilyn came in. Marilyn had had some implants! She now had a modest but full A cup! Her hair had been dyed blonde and done in a ponytail. Her nails had been painted pink and she was wearing a red miniskirt that was pleated, flaring like a cheerleaders skirt. Her blouse was white and she had on red flats.

"Marilyn could hardly wait to get fitted! I had to make sure she was ready first of course, but she is so pretty that it hardly took any time at all!"

Priscilla looked at the young girl and saw on her face not a scowl, but not a smile either. Resignation was the look. Both her Mother and Veronica were fitted for their dresses as well as Marilyn. When they made Marilyn stand in her panties on that small box everyone could see that she had a nice, natural shape, her breasts pert and small.

They had another two weeks before the Ball, and because her mother thought her skin wasn’t soft enough, Priscilla had to endure being rubbed with a lotion and wrapped in flannel every night. She and Michael went out twice more, but no mention was made of the wedding since Priscilla knew she didn’t have any say anyway. The morning of the Ball, Camille, Priscilla, their Mother, Marilyn, and Veronica went to a spa where they each had their hair and nails done, a rubdown, steam sauna and their makeup done.

Priscilla, like Marilyn had her hair dyed blonde and recut, styled in a Gibson style for the Ball. Her nails were lengthened and painted a soft burgundy rose. Her makeup was done to perfection, giving her the glow of a healthy young woman. She never felt more feminine than when she looked in the mirror for the first time. Marilyn also got the treatment, and she started to smile once in a while, but when she saw her reflection in the mirror she broke out in a wide grin. All of them went back to Priscilla’s house and got dressed, Priscilla helped by her Mother. They had to take two cars because the dresses were so large, but when Michael saw her he beamed with pride, and took her arm. For jewelry, Priscilla was wearing a diamond tiara, necklace, bracelet and earrings, so with every move she glittered in the light. All of the fear she had at being a boy in a dress in the beginning had disappeared when she saw herself in the mirror before they left the house. Now, she was as beautiful as any woman there. The music, soft lights and fine dinner made the night one to remember, especially for Priscilla, because she was named Princess of the Ball! Pictures and society columnists crowded around her wanting a scoop, but her Mother simply told them her name and left it at that. Priscilla, Camille, and their Mother went to a dressing room and helped her change out of the dress because Michael wanted to take her home, and the dress was to expensive to possibly ruin by having a man paw at it.

Michael took her home after the Ball, stopping on a small rise that overlooked the country club. He took her into his arms and kissed her, and Priscilla was in no condition to deny him. After all, he was going to be her husband next week! He put his hand on her breast and Priscilla fell into an ecstasy of emotions. His touch ignited a fire that she didn’t know was possible for a man to have for another man, but she was no longer a man. Maybe half a man, but a very small half. Priscilla had ceded her maleness the first time she put on a dress, and now she wanted to please this man holding her. She resisted telling him anything, and did not do anything that was not proper, but she sure thought about it! By the time she got home it was almost dawn, and she went to her room and went to bed.

The preparation for the wedding was almost a repeat of the time they spent at the spa the first time, except that this time Priscilla had more attention spent on her. It took Camille and her Mother two hours to get her dressed. White satin panties, the corset, white hose, the slip was almost as full as the dress, then of course the dress. Priscilla did not start getting nervous until she was completely dressed and they were on the way to the car.

"Mother, I’m not sure we can do this to Michael. I mean, I’m a male, and he is expecting a woman!"

"You have to trust me Priscilla. This is the best thing for the both of you, now settle down."

It didn’t make it any easier, but Priscilla stood at the aisle, an Uncle walking her down the aisle to her future husband. Michael stood at the altar smiling, looking strong and very masculine. Her knees started to buckle once, but she managed to make it to the altar, where she was married to Michael. Marilyn carried the flowers in a small basket, looking all grown up in her new dress and short heels. At the reception, Priscilla saw that Marilyn was with a young man her own age, smiling and holding his hand!

She changed into a traveling suit of light blue, her luggage in the trunk, kissed her Mother and sister, and with Michael’s help, got in the car. The went to a mountain retreat that had been reserved for them alone. He picked her up and carried her over the threshold and into the bedroom where he started to undress. Wearing his briefs, he watched as Priscilla hesitated at first, then took off her jacket, skirt and blouse, kicked off her shoes, and stood in front of him wearing her bra and panties.

"Michael, there’s something you have to know about me!"

"I already know sweetheart."

With that he dropped his briefs to the floor. Priscilla gasped, and then smiled at him. He slowly undressed her and the went to bed and consummated their marriage. They stayed in bed for the rest of the day, reaffirming their love several times.

They moved into a home he had built just for her, high on a hillside overlooking a small lake. When Michael became pregnant, they both had to make sure that she was the one to look pregnant and not him. She had to pad herself for the next nine months; but when the baby came she and Michael went to a private hospital where he delivered a fine baby girl. Priscilla was now a Mother in her own right, and Camille, well she never did find out how her brother had a baby, and her Mother never told her. Priscilla the male, and Michael the female had found life with each other, becoming a family and no one was the wiser.

Marilyn became their baby sitter, a finer young lady could not be found. She had started to develop a female shape of her own now that she was taking hormones. Michael and Priscilla became active in the community and now have two children, a boy and a girl.

 

© 2000

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