This is my first attempt at writing a tg story for the internet. Feel free to send your comments to ziepy@hotmail.com

 

What I Had Always Wanted              by:  Mark

 

Ever since I can remember women’s clothing has fascinated me. I just enjoy exploring my feminine side in the privacy of my own home. This was especially easy because of my older sister Ann. Like most teenage girls she had lots of clothes. Mom always bought her lots of great dresses and skirts but Ann would rarely wear them. Not that she was a tomboy or anything, she just happened to prefer pants. This, however, gave me an opportunity to, ah, borrow her clothes when I was alone at home and to try them on.

When I was sure that I would be alone for a long time, I would get dressed as a girl all the way. I really enjoyed those times. As far as I was concerned, my cross-dressing was a harmless little hobby that I enjoyed in my spare time in the privacy of my own home. Of course I didn’t want anyone to catch me. My sister would never stop making fun of mom and me and dad would have a fit. So I just remained careful and discreet and nothing wrong happened until I was fifteen.

I had finished school early one Friday and I knew that Ann or my parents would not be home for another four hours. This was an excellent opportunity to dress up. I put on a pair of panties, bra, shear black pantyhose, a short black skirt, a red shirt and a pair of black pumps. I then spent a half-hour fixing my hair and applying make up. I had been cross-dressing for five years so I was quite good at making myself up, well, for a guy at least. Satisfied with my appearance, I minced into the kitchen, made myself a sandwich and then went to the living room to watch TV. I was so engrossed with the television show I was watching that I didn’t hear the car pull up into the driveway.

My mom had forgotten something important and was back home early. I didn’t even hear her as she walked through the door. When she saw me from the back watching TV she thought I was one of my female friends who was visiting me. She said hello and I froze. I have never been so terrified in my life. She figured out who it really was and went crazy. I told her everything, how I enjoyed dressing up like a girl in my spare time. My mother said I was disgusting and continued yelling. She told that now I was really in trouble and that my dad would kill me. Immediately I realized dad would be home and I begged my mother to allow me to change back into boy’s clothes. She refused. I had to sit in the kitchen in dread for three hours and wait for my father, all the while begging her to let me change.

Finally my father arrived. He flipped out too. He made me promise never ever to wear girls’ clothes. My mother wasn’t satisfied. She said that she didn’t believe my promise and she suspected that I would merely go back to my habit but would just be more careful. She had a different punishment in mind. Since I loved dressing up like a girl so much, she would see to it that I got a chance to dress up often. In fact, she said, I would dress up so often that I would become sick of it and would never want to touch women's clothing again. My father was reluctant, but eventually agreed that a drastic solution was required.

Mortified, I listened as my sentence was passed. I was to dress up like a girl all the time except for school. I nearly fainted. So it was that when my sister came home later she found me stilled dressed up as a girl. My mother told her about my punishment. Ann just started laughing at me. From now on the family would refer to me as Karen instead of Mark.

Ann continued laughing. She noted that I looked cute and very feminine, which due to my moderate height and slim figure, I really do. Doubtless I could really make a man happy. My mother told Ann to hold that thought. Humiliated, I went to sleep early but only after changing into a shimmering sleeveless silk nightgown.

The next day I woke up. Ann showed me how to shave all the hair off my body. She then dressed me in panties, a bra, pantyhose, pink skirt and white blouse. She then showed me how to do my makeup and fix my hair. This didn’t take much time since I had been practicing for years in private.

I was horrified when my mother told me that we were going to the mall. Desperately I begged her not to humiliate me publicly. I only liked dressing up privately. I didn’t hurt anyone, why was I being punished? My father explained that I was doing something unnatural and that this would show me my place. He watched sternly as my mother and sister helplessly dragged me to the car. My mother explained that since I looked so much like a girl, I would not be embarrassed. People would just think I was a regular teenage girl. Which is what I had wanted anyhow, she told me.

We went of to the mall. First we went to a hair salon and got my shoulder length hair dyed a golden blonde. Great, how would I explain that to the guys in school? Then we got my ears pierced. The process didn’t last long but it did sting. Soon I had three studs in each ear. That was another thing I would have to explain at school.

Then we went to buy clothes for me. My mother bought a whole new wardrobe for me. I could have died as we walked into all these women’s clothing stores and mom and Ann told the pretty sales girls ALL about me, my punishment and why I was being punished. They all laughed at me and were very enthusiastic about dressing me up. Then we went to eat. I was a bit rusty the first time I went out in public as a girl. Many women seemed to easily see through my disguise and I drew many stares. I also drew many stares of a different nature from the men. I hated those.

When we got home my mother and sister spent hours making me practice walking and talking as a girl. As I angrily complained they asked me if when I went out in public, which would be often, I would like everyone to know my real gender. That made me shut up as I quickly became more adept at acting feminine. When they were done I went down to where dad was. He made me strut around for him. He sneeringly remarked that I was really hot and would make a good lay. It was obvious that he no longer respected me anymore. I also found that dad had locked away all my boy’s clothes. I would only get those for school. My closets were now filled with dresses, skirts and lingerie while I had several pairs of heels.

I asked my mother how long this punishment would last.

She answered me. " You’re manhood is now on trial. When you prove to me that you are really a man then I’ll believe that you have overcome your perverted habit. If you do not prove your manhood then something else will be done. We’re doing this for your own good. We will not allow you to be a perverted faggot and freak for the rest of your life. You are either a man or a woman. Now we’ll find out which one you are. " She did not say anything more. So began my new life.

In school I was a boy. I was able to convince my friends that I shaved my legs because I was on a swim team. As for the blonde hair and earrings, I merely said that I was experimenting with a new style. After a bit of rearranging I was able to make myself look masculine and I actually looked kind of cool with long blond hair and earrings. I would get up in the morning and get my clothes for the day from mom. Then I would go to school. As soon as school was over I had to come home and then I was back in dresses until the next school day.

Mom and Ann would often have me run errands or take me out in public. It was absolutely humiliating. Especially when old neighbours and acquaintances recognized me. At home all the housework was given to me. I virtually became a maid. My social life died, as I no longer would hang out with my friends. So did my sex life. That was really frustrating. Don’t let my habit fool you. I love girls. I’ve dated quite a bit and I have the usual sex drive of a healthy teenage male. It drove me nuts.

Now I no longer went out. Except when Ann took me bar hopping as a girl. Once she had decided that I was sufficiently good at passing as a female, she took me clubbing with her. That was horrible. In a tight short skirt and high heels I attracted a lot of attention. Ann made me dance with some guys, but other then that she didn’t force me into anything.

Women’s clothing was also very uncomfortable. It was one thing to wear them now and again around the house, it’s another story to dress up for a long time. High heels made my feet ache. The panties were too tight. The pantyhose itched, in the summer they were too hot while in the winter they hardly afforded adequate protection against the cold. The short tight skirts I was forced to wear only allowed me to take short small steps and I had to make sure that I didn’t expose my panties. The bra really irritated my chest and I could never get used to the falsies that I had to wear so that it looked like I had breasts.

Changes around the house continued. Slowly my room was redecorated. My old blue bedspread and drapes were removed. So were my posters of athletes and half-naked models. In their place came pink sheets and drapes. I got new pink wallpaper. Posters of ballerinas and cats were put up on my wall. So was a poster of a topless muscular male model, a gift from Ann. Thanks a lot sis. Female vocalists and male pop groups that the girls at school gushed over replaced my alternative and hard rock CD’s. I was getting everything a normal teenage girl could ever want. Except that I was not a normal teenage girl. Photographs of " Mark " were removed and replaced by photographs of " Karen. "

My mother and sister taught how to raise my voice by one octave and to speak with a girlish lisp. Whenever I was at home I had to talk like a girl.

After a few months everyone got used to having me around dressed like a girl. Indeed, if you had not known me from before you would think that I was a perfectly natural female. My dad, who had snubbed me for a month, soon seemed to warm to his new daughter. He always called me Karen and treated me as if I had always been a girl. Mom in the meantime was a harsh taskmaster who made sure I stayed in character. After initially making fun of me Ann soon appeared to get used to my new appearance and soon began not noticing it at all. Most of the time in private she referred to me as Mark. She was the only one in my entire family that I liked being around.

Fall turned to winter. Christmas was hard because my parents forced kept me dressed like a girl and forced me to do all the cooking, which was a pain in the neck. I was thankful that they didn’t invite anyone over, though. All I got as a present was more girl’s clothes, jewelry and lingerie, which was annoying. I figured that at least when this punishment was over I’d have lots of presents to give my girlfriends.

Winter continued changing to spring. I began to hear rumors through Ann that mom and dad were beginning to think that it was time to see if I deserved a reprieve. This made me happy. I had become used to the feeling of looking and acting like a girl, which scared me. Also, spring is the season of young love after all, and I was eager to get back to dating.

On the last day of school, me and some of my friends had a panty raid on the girls’ locker rooms. We brought a camera with us and took some very revealing photographs of some of my sisters closest friends, which we then spread all over school. Let’s just say that we managed to catch my sister’s friends engaging in some rather lesbian acts. Some people complained and my sister’s friends were expelled because of it. I was feeling kind of sorry about this since it ruined their reputations around town, subjected them to lots of mockery and now they had an expulsion on their permanent record.

While the school never did catch us, my sister found out that I was involved in the panty raid and demanded that I apologize. I refused and made fun of her because of it. After all, I had endured Ann’s mockery all year and now I was getting ready to get her back.

"Well, if that’s the case I’ll see to it that you’ll pay Karen," she laughed. I did not think much of this because I was sure that mom and dad would let me go back to being a boy for the summer. The day after the last day of school, I was called into the living room for a family meeting. As usual, I was dressed like a girl. On the table were a bottle of glue, a box of tampons and strange steel sheathe with two thin chains attached to it.

" Karen, " began my mother, " this is a family meeting to decide your future concerning this punishment. We must decide for your own good whether you will now go back to being a man or whether we will move on to the punishment’s second stage. You will have no say in this. I don’t believe that you are in a position to judge clearly. After all, you’ll probably be concerned with all sorts of trivial nonsensical things like what your friends will think. That can be taken care of. For your own good we must decided whether you are really male or female deep down inside. Trust me, you don’t want the real you stuck in a closet until it emerges under tragic circumstances. If changes must be made, they should be made while you are still young, before you get married and have a family. We as impartial observers will judge. " Normally I would have bellowed I should decide for myself but I was by now used to demurely doing what I was told.

My father spoke first. " I think we should end this punishment. I don’t think Mark will ever want to touch women’s clothing again. He has constantly shown that he does not enjoy wearing women’s clothes and finds them uncomfortable. He’s definitely a man."

Mom did not agree. " Look how well those clothes fit. How he talks and walks like a girl. These feminine tendencies of his are very deep. Look how he now sits quietly while we decide his fate. If he were really a man he would be yelling his head off. Outside no one can distinguish him from a woman. He’s very attractive and draws the attention of all the men. Mark is obviously meant to be a young attractive young lady whether he wants to admit it or not. Whatever he may say because of society’s influence. This is obvious to any impartial person who can observe him now. Why, during the past few months he has even stopped complaining about dressing like that. He may as well have been dressing like this all his life, which he actually has been doing in secret before I caught him. Acting like a girl is second nature to him. He needs more time as a girl so that we can see better. "

My father argued back. "He is so good at acting like a girl because he has been dressing like one for eight months and for quite some time in secret. He hasn’t been complaining because he has gotten used to it and now sees that whining won’t get him anywhere."

"You’ve just proven my point. You admit that he has been dressing up like a girl for a long time. And you’ve noted how he has gotten used to acting like a girl. Tell me, would any real man get used to dressing like a girl ever? You just say he’s a boy because admitting he’s a girl makes you insecure about your masculinity."

Deadlock. My parents turned to my sister. Ann was obviously just there to give advice and contribute her opinion. Normally nothing she would say would decide anything; this was my parent’s decision. But now that they were at an impasse they asked Ann what she thought. I was overjoyed. Ann would surely tell mom that I should go back to being a boy. Instead Ann got me back for the panty raid by making sure that I would stay in panties for a lot longer.

" I agree with mom. Not only that, but Mark has told me that he will continue dressing like a girl in private and that he is happy that this punishment gave him so much experience. Not only that, he told me that he likes the attention he gets from men and will remember to experiment with them in the future. " That decided it. Dad looked disappointed. He got up and left the room. Mom ordered me to strip. I told her emphatically that Ann was lying but she didn’t believe me.

Once all my clothes were off Ann took some glue and stuck my falsies to my chest. Mom said that she had the solution that would negate the glue and that she would only apply it when she thought I could be a man again. My falsies would only be taken off for a short period of time so I could wash my chest or when I no longer needed them.

Then mom placed the steel sheathe over my penis. Pushing my testicles back into my body she pulled the two chains through my legs, pulling my penis securely between my legs. She then pulled the chains through my ass crack and around my waist, closing them with a small lock. I would now have to sit in order to urinate. There would be no more telling bulge in front of my panties. Instead it looked like all I had was a girl’s empty cavity. Worse of all, I would not be able to have an erection. In fact, having an erection would be painful.

As a final step my mother picked up the box of tampons. She announced that from this time on this week of the month would be my period. During the week of my so-called period I was expected to put a tampon up my ass! I looked at her in shock. "Why Karen," she cut in, "being a girl isn’t all fun and games. You have to experience the hardships of being a girl too." She then asked me to bend over while she ceremoniously shoved my first tampon up my asshole. Talk about uncomfortable and humiliating.

My mother sent me to my room to pack. We were going to my family’s country house where I would live the entire summer only as a girl. Once we got to the country house things went from bad to worse. My mother got a prescription for female hormones and would only give me food to eat if I took one of the pink estrogen pills. My skin began to get soft. I began to get thinner everywhere except for my hips which began to swell. Worse yet, when I got my falsies taken off so I could wash my chest, I noticed that I had begun to grow breasts. My mother religiously measured my chest to check my progress.

I was still trying to convince mom that I was not meant to be a girl. I pointed out that I liked girls, not boys. My mother retorted that I would never know whether I liked boys or not because I had never had any sexual experience with boys. This gave her an idea. At mom’s request, Ann found me a boyfriend in the nearby town. He was skinny and not a good-looking man at all. He was really horny though and jumped at the opportunity to go out with the attractive hot young blonde he thought I was. He was a real jerk. During the first three dates it was all I could do to keep him from ripping off my clothes and discovering that I was really a boy. This was crazy, my family could not making me act like a homosexual.

At fist I started making plans to run away and go to the police to complain about child abuse. But then I realized that this would mean total public humiliation for myself and my family, so I decided that it would be better to bide my time. Goodness only knew what people would think if they found out I had been forced to live like a girl for nine months. Not to mention what they would think when they found out that I had originally enjoyed putting on girl’s clothing. I could afford to bide my time. Nothing that had been done to me up until now was permanent, right?

I still felt sure that my family would eventually come to its senses and this madness would stop without total embarrassment. Eventually dad would make mom stop. Or eventually Ann would stop being angry at me and would tell my parents that she had lied when she had said I would continue acting girlishly once the punishment was over. As for my mom, I knew that she had decided that I must really be a girl at heart. My mother was quite strict about sex roles, even more than my father. That’s why she always tried to get Ann to dress like an ultra-feminine girl. I always felt that she did not know how to relate to me as her son. Now she got to relate to me as her daughter and got to dress me up however she wanted. I got to be every mother’s dream, a daughter who acted like her mother’s personal barbie doll.

When I complained to mom that I could not hold off Leslie’s (my boyfriend) advances anymore. My mother told me to suck his cock. That way I could satisfy him without removing my clothes. I was a girl now so it was something I was supposed to love. I felt disgusted. But one night as I was alone with Leslie in his car he went berserk He lifted up my skirt and was ready to rip off my panties and panty hose. He was virtually threatening to rape me. Desperately I went down on my knees and opened his zipper. Taking his cock out, I kissed it and took it into my mouth. Using my tongue and lips I made him hard. As his dick grew I nearly gagged. I felt like throwing up as it was. Finally he came in my mouth and I had to swallow his salty white cum. I felt like throwing up.

From then on mom made sure that I satisfied Leslie adequately. According to Leslie, I was an amazing cocksucker. Ann asked me for my method, although she told me that she hated oral sex but thought it was worth while to know anyway. She thought oral sex and cock sucking was kind of kinky. It was something kinky girls like me, her little sister, did.

While Leslie was having a grand time I was getting more and more frustrated. I could not have an erection, let alone cum. Just looking at a girl caused my penis to strain against the sheathe, causing me excruciating pain. It drove me nuts that a wimp like Leslie was being granted continuous sexual gratification while someone like me couldn’t even bear to look at a woman anymore because this would cause my penis to begin swelling. I had to train myself to stop thinking about hot women and to stop staring at hot women, which was probably exactly what mom wanted. All my pathetic attempts to break the sheath’s lock failed.

In the meantime I was being forced to play the role of a girl with Leslie it was becoming too much to bear. The hormone pills were making my body more and more girlish. My mother monitored how much I was eating and forced me to eat only small amounts of food in order to " keep my figure. " This made me hungry all the time. On top of all this I was still expected to do the cooking and housework.

All my pleading for this process to stop fell on deaf ears. I told mom angrily that a psychologist, not her, should decide whether I was male or female. Mom agreed and told me that she had already contacted some doctors who would deal with my case. I was happy, now they would explain that I had only been going through a stage and that my habit was a small thing. They would make mom treat me like a boy. Mom had other things in mind.

Mom had indeed contacted some doctors. She had called Dr. Elaine Short, a young inexperienced plastic surgeon just out of med-school who wanted to open her own private practice and greatly appreciated ANY job she could find, she also appreciated the large amount of money my parents, who were not poor at all, threw at her. She had also called Dr. Richard Benson, veteran psychologist who was extremely fascinated with my case. He was a sexologist who eagerly wanted to examine a case of a boy being turned into a girl. How this would affect him/her. He was also quite impressed with the money my parents gave him.

So it was that one day I was taken to the hospital for a check up. I was rather nervous when the doctor, Dr. Short, checked my identification. My I.D. listed me as male, but Dr.Short didn’t seem to mind. She injected me with what she told me was a vaccine. It was really anesthetic. As I began to get drowsy and dose off, the last thing I remember seeing was a blurry picture of Dr.Short looking down at me with sympathy and muttering to herself, " it’s amazing in the end what I’ll do for money. "

When I woke up some time later, something felt different. My chest. I had breasts! Dr.Short had given me implants. They weren’t obscenely big but they were large enough to make most of the girls in my class envious. I was stunned. This could not be happening. I wanted to make a scene, I should have made a scene, but I was too stunned. My mother took me home. I merely sat in the car quietly, staring out the window. How could they do this to me? This was no longer some sort of joke. This was real. I suddenly realized that maybe my optimism had been misguided. Maybe dad had come to terms with my alleged girlishness. I noticed that ever since that day when Ann had convinced mom and dad to make me continue living as a girl he had not been acting the same way towards me. He was more gentle, condescending even. Ann was still pissed off at me. I began to feel trapped. In the meantime my mother explained that she had been told that hormones would at most make me an A-cup so she decided to go for implants to make my breasts bigger. All the while I felt the new sensation of having breasts, this was all too strange.

When we got home I ran to my room and stayed there. I only came out to fix dinner and then left without eating anything. Not that mom let me eat much anyway. This was permanent. This showed me that this was no longer some messed up punishment meant to exhaust any girlish tendencies. My parent’s believed that I wanted to be a girl deep down inside. What made things worse was that everyone acted as though nothing was wrong. As if it was perfectly normal for me to have breasts.

The next day I was alone with dad. He asked me if everything was okay and how the breasts felt. I told him that I didn’t want to have breasts. I demanded to be taken to a psychologist. My dad agreed and I was taken to Dr. Benson.

Leslie, of course, was thrilled with the change. Up until now. I had only let him touch my breasts through my shirt. If they were under my shirt, my falsies could pass for real breasts. Now of course, I didn’t need falsies to fill my bra since I had breasts. This meant I could go topless in front of Leslie and let him play with my breasts all he wanted. That was the one advantage about getting implants. It really did feel good when someone played with them. If they hadn’t been associated with so much humiliation, I may have actually enjoyed them. Mom now saw to it that I showed up at the beach regularly wearing string bikinis so I could show off my lovely cleavage.

I continued meeting with Dr.Benson. I told him that I did not want to become a girl. That I only had a tiny curiosity about girl’s clothing. That I was totally heterosexual and utterly loved my penis and wanted without any doubt to be a man. Dr. Benson was very polite and listened to me. Then he went to write his report. He said that I had a deep subliminal desire to be a woman. That I would be happier in the long run as a woman. That the only reason why I claimed to want to be a man was because I was afraid of what my friends might think. That despite my verbal claims that I wanted to be a man, my actions clearly indicated that I was a woman deep down inside. I fit perfectly into the feminine role. I totally looked, talked and walked like a girl. He said I was enjoying a healthy relationship with Leslie and that I excelled as the girl in a relationship, making a subtle reference to my cock sucking abilities. Finally, he wrote that I was overjoyed to have breasts and that I loved playing with them. This was followed up by mom’s testimony. She had caught me playing with my breasts on more than one occasion. I mean, what else did they expect me to do with my dick tied up as it was, a guy had to find relief somehow.

Of course Ann, who never seemed to mature and didn’t seem to understand that this was my life she was playing with, remembered to throw in enough imaginary stories about me telling her how desperately I wanted to be a girl and how I was totally crazy about Leslie. She was still pissed off about the panty raid and the naked photos of her friends. Her friends’ reputations were now totally ruined and some had been expelled. So she was getting me back. My parents of course believed everything she said and this seemed to strengthen my mother’s resolve to feminize me and my father no longer tried to restrain her.

So it was that my family with the help of Dr. Benson and some more money thrown in on the side got my birth certificate changed. I was no longer listed as a boy named Mark but as a girl named Karen. All my i.d. was changed. I was not informed of this and I would only find out at the end of the summer. So it was that at the end of August my father announced that soon we were returning home. As mom and Ann began packing, all I could do was stare at my bumpy chest and ponder the consequences of all this.

My dad told me not to worry and to be brave, they had taken care of everything and soon my ordeal would be over and he felt sure that I would be much happier. I hugged my dad. Ever since I had gotten my breasts he was always being very nice to me. Just that he kept treating me as if I was his daughter, " daddy’s little girl. " I just would have prefered to play baseball with him or any of the other things fathers normally did with their sons. No matter how many times I asked him if he wanted to throw the baseball around with me or play some basketball or even wrestle like we used to, he’d politely and quietly refuse. He just wasn’t interested in doing those things with me anymore.

Before we left I said good bye to Leslie. I had to act as though I was sad to see him go and wrote him a really mushy love letter. Actually I was thrilled to get away from him. I hated being the girl in a relationship. Throughout the summer it seemed as though I could never get the salty taste of his cock and cum out of my mouth no matter what I tried.

We got back home and now I was nervous. What was I going to do about school? I couldn’t go dressed like this. I hoped that my parent’s were just trying to scare me and would soon call off this ridiculous punishment and get my implants taken out, if possible. That didn’t happen. The one thing that did happen was that my mother let me remove my penis sheathe after having it locked on for nearly two and a half months. I really felt relieved and I masturbated like crazy that night. My mother also informed me that I wouldn’t have to spend one week every month with tampons shoved up my rear end. So I was slightly happy. Soon I would be starting grade 11.School came around and it was quite clear that I would be going back to school as a girl. That would be too much. I ranted and raved and cried but it did no good.

I found myself walking to Weatherton High School with my sister. I wasn’t wearing my usual usual uniform which was made up of grey pants and white shirt and tie with a blazer. Instead I was wearing the girl’s uniform, a short plaid skirt and black pantyhose and the school sweater. I began to sweat like crazy and the feeling of air wafting under my skirt drove me nuts. My heart beat faster with each step. My face looked so white and I was shaking so hard that even my sister, who had been a total bitch all summer, asked me if I was alright and held my hand to encourage me. My sense of dread continued to grow until I reached school.

As I walked inside, I was relieved to see that none of my friends were around. I picked up my usual locker. Eventually some of my friends started arriving. It took them a while to recognize me. When they did they were quite shocked. Worse part of all was that I had no answer to their question: " Why are you dressed like that? " All I could do was stare down at the floor and mumble something about my parents punishing me and hope that the ground would swallow me. I went to my first class. It was hellish. The whole class was staring at me. The girls giggled and snickered while the guys eyed me with curiosity and malice. The teacher saw me and did a double take. She knew me from previous years. When she read out roll call and called out the name Karen Graham, I raised my hand and meekly said "present." This only added to the stir.

The first class finished. As all the kids filed out the teacher told me to stay behind. I was thankful for this respite because I was sure that once I left the classroom I was going to be laughed at, or worse. The teacher cleaned the blackboard and I was alone in the class. Once all the other kids were gone, my best friend Jeff came back into class and approached me.

"This is all some sort of stunt, right?" he asked.

"Kind of," I answered quietly. "I really don’t want to talk about it now."

"Fine," he said looking at me as if I had the plague. "Just one more thing. Please tell me that’s a stuffed bra." He pointed at my chest.

"Of course it is!" Well, it was a stuffed bra, it was just stuffed with breasts. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. My best friend left the room.

The teacher was about to confront me about my attire and my apparent change of name and started by asking if this was some sort of punishment. She said that she had heard about parents dressing their sons up like girls as punishment for something bad they had done. How could I tell her the truth? How could I tell her what had sparked the punishment, how long it had been going on and how far it had gone. I was about to break down and cry when the principal called me into his office.

He explained to me that my parent’s had consulted the school about my transformation. It was then that I found out that all my i.d. had been changed and that I would now be enrolled in school as a girl. Apparently my parents had told the school that I wanted to be a girl and that I was in the midst of gender reassignment. The school had been very understanding. The principal promised to help me any way possible. All I could do was mumble my thanks as my face turned bright red.

That afternoon, the principal took me to every single classroom. He had me explain to all the students that I was changing from a boy to a girl and that I would now be using the girl’s bathrooms and that if there were some girls who did not feel comfortable with this arrangement, there were some bathrooms that I would not be allowed to use. I would now take gym with the girls in my class. I was humiliated in front of the whole school.

I walked back home as quick as my heels would allow in order to avoid any unpleasant incidents that might occur. I now realized what my new position was. I could now no longer complain to the police about child abuse. After all, I had just gotten up in front of my entire high school and told everyone that I was going to be a girl. The school seemed to know about my transformation for quite some time. I could hardly go to the police and claim to have been transformed against my will now. If I wanted to put a stop to all this, it would not be done through the police, it would have to be done through my psychotherapist, Dr. Benson.

As of yet I still hadn’t realized that Dr. Benson was actually supporting my continued feminization. I thought he was just being misled by Ann and my mother. He actually was ecstatic about reviewing my case and was eagerly keeping track of my physical, mental and societal changes. Later on he would write an excellent scientific report on my case that would earn him quite a bit of recognition. However, I just decided that next time I saw him I would have to demand an outright cessation of what everyone was calling my reassignment.

In school, there were several reactions to all of this. Some people went out of their way to support me. Some just expressed their understanding.

Others were hostile and some, among them some of my closest friends like Jeff, were downright violent. I would get jostled in the hallways, tripped, some people enjoyed pinching my breasts. By now everyone had found out they were implants. All I could do was try to ignore their taunting or curl up into a ball when they might try to hit me.

Many were just plain curious. These were also annoying. They asked all these embarrassing questions about why I wanted to be a girl and how it felt to have breasts and hips and so on. This obsession with my budding girlishness bugged me. I just wanted things to be as they always had been. I might look like a girl but I was still the same Mark, right?

My mom made me drop all my science courses, saying that this would cloud my sexual development. This was a great blow to me because I always had wanted to go into the sciences and to become an engineer of some sort, I liked to build things. Instead I took home economics, which I was very good at since I had been doing all the house work at home for the past year. My mother got me to join the cheerleading squad. I used to be a great fan at sporting events in school. I had been on the basketball team two years ago and was fairly good at the game. I hadn’t made the team last year, though. Now athletic events became a time of dread since it meant I would have to jump around in front of everyone wearing a mini-skirt and waving my pompoms with all the prettiest girls in school. Of course, according to many people, I was one of the prettiest girls in school. I also enrolled in an extracurricular ballet class, again at my mother’s suggestion. It didn’t help me either that I was an excellent cheerleader, a decent ballerina and the best student in home economics. I also regularly did aerobics. My mom made sure I was enrolled at an expert level and got plenty of exercise.

The only advantage out of all this was that before and after gym class I was able to get a good look at the girls changing in the locker room. Some of my male friends who still talked to me were actually envious.

For that whole first semster of grade 11, I spent my time at school in total humiliation and embarassment. It didn’t stop at school either. The local media got wind of my story and covered it. Soon the whole town knew about me. I couldn’t wait to get home and lock myself in the house. Of course that wasn’t pleasant either.

I still had to do all the housework, mom kept making sure I was acting feminine, continually criticizing everything I did. Dad just treated me like a ditzy teeny bopper. Ann still frequently made fun of me. I got no relief anywhere. Outside of school I got a job as a waitress. Mom said I had to raise enough money to buy new clothes and to help pay the large bill we had racked up due to my surgery.

Worse of all though, Ann found me a new boyfriend. This guy was not like Leslie at all. He was 19 years old (I had turned seventeen recently) and he was really big. Leslie had been my age and was just a horny little wimp who had been lucky enough to go out with me. This guy was a muscle bound jock who could have any girl he wanted and he wanted to go out with me. This just drove home to me that I really was turning into a girl. Not just a pretty girl, but a blonde knockout. I had incredible breasts. Between the hromones I was taking, the aerobics, ballet, cheerleading and the starvation diet mom had me on, I had an amazing body. I often got an erection just by looking at myself in the mirror while I dressed, that was really weird. I was really hot and now I had a really sexy man to go out with. Thanks a lot Ann.

As for Leslie, we still kept in touch. We mailed mushy sappy love notes to each other. At my mother’s suggestion Ann took several revealing photographs of me posing in lingerie and sent them to him. Leslie was overjoyed and wrote to me that he had hung them on his wall and would stare at them for hours, pining away for me. Yeah right. Under all of this I was still a guy and I knew what he was doing. He probably used those pictures when he masturbated. Just what I had always wanted, to be the object of a guy’s sex fantasy.

Doug (my new boyfriend) was really impulsive, just like Leslie. Unfortunately, while I was able to fight off the smaller Leslie when ever he became too aggressive, I was powerless to hold off Doug. To begin with, Doug was satisfied to feel me off and to have me suck his cock. I really hated sucking cock, the thought of swallowing cum just repels me. I just don’t understand those girls who do. My last girlfriend (before all this started) was quite a cock sucker. She loved cum. The taste and smell of it drove her nuts. Of course, not all girls were like this. I knew that Ann hated sucking cock. But she thought it was alright if her little sister did it. Doug was really hard to suck. His dick was much bigger then Leslie’s and it filled my mouth even before it even got hard. I nearly choked on it when it started growing, filling my mouth and moving into my throat pinning my tongue to the bottom of my mouth. Under those conditions I had to strain my cock sucking abilities to make him cum. But cum he did. He said that I was the best cock sucker he had ever dated.

But I could only hold him off for so long and eventually he got so lustful he just ripped off my skirt and panties, finding my penis and testicles. I was terrified. After staring at my genitals for five minutes he slapped me hard across the face. I started bawling. He told me that he had not slapped me for being a boy who wanted to be a girl, but because I had lied to him about it. Hugging me in his strong arms, he comforted me. When I stopped crying, he told me that he would still want to go out with me. Despite my penis I was still one of the hottest dates he had ever had and he thought that dating me would be a real interesting experience. So we continued seeing each other.

Doug still wasn’t satisifed with cock sucking and soon introduced me to what he liked to call the subtle pleasures of anal sex. Yeah right! I have never felt more pain then when he shoved his massive thick cock up my ass again and again for the first time. I just started crying because of the pain and begged him to stop. All I could hear were his ecstatic shouts, at least he was enjoying himself. Finally, I was relieved by the feeling of his penis firing cum into my ass. Sometimes, when he wasn’t in too much of a rush he would remember to lubricate my ass before plunging his dick into it. Thank goodness for small mercies, eh? After getting reamed up the ass I usually couldn’t walk normally all day. If it was done without lubricant, which happened often enough, every step I took was painful and my butt ached liked crazy.

He also liked playing with my penis. Abusing it is more accurate. He liked to squeeze it or twist it around. When he was in a rotten mood he would slap it with a ruler. This of course was even more painful than the anal sex. I would beg him to stop but for some reason he just loved making what was left of my dick throb with pain.

In the meantime, I was wondering where my parents were going with all this. They had told me that they were doing all this so that I would not be some sort of half female and half male freak. So they could decide whether I should be a woman or a man. I would not be some sort of freak. I could not be both. Yet here I had become some sort of female male. A sickening shemale creature. I looked like a red hot babe but I still had male genitals and I wanted to be a boy.

No, I was a boy and they couldn’t change that. Even as I stared at my reflection in the mirror I could feel the irony of those words. All my male musculature had disintegrated. One look at my breasts and my hips told me I was fighting a losing battle. I could only stare at the reflection of the hot blonde with a penis and repeat to myself "I am a boy, I am a boy."

Of course my parents thought otherwise and Dr. Benson did not believe that at all. After all, at the beginning of the semester I had walked around with my principle and I had told the entire school, both students and staff, that I wanted to be a girl. Not only that, but I had now taken a second boyfriend (Doug, Leslie was the first). Ann of course threw in her usual set of lies about me crying over her shoulder that I wanted to be a girl and that the only reason that I had persisted in claiming to want to be a boy was because I was afraid of what everyone would think. Mom was totally convinced I wanted to be a girl and was doing everything to push me towards womanhood. As far as dad was concerned, I had always been his darling daughter Karen deep down inside and that this was who I should be. Ann kept making me more and more girlish as her own perverse and draconian way of getting back at me for that panty raid.

Soon my first term of grade 11 was over and we had two weeks of winter vacation. For Christmas break, me and my family went back to our countryhouse. It was the second Chrismas that I had spent in a dress. It was kind of a relief since I didn’t have to deal with the guys and girls at school and could, with difficulty try and forget about my girlish contours, my breasts and the feminine clothing I was wearing. It was annoying because I had to cook the massive Christmas dinner. But everyone enjoyed it, I had become a decent cook. Then Leslie came over to see me. Him and me sang Christmas carols with my family. Then when my parents and Ann went to bed, Leslie and I had a long romantic night next to the fire place.

At least it was romantic for him. All I could think about was how much I missed my old girlfriend, the last one I had. Two Christmases ago we had also spent a romantic time at her place next to her fire place. Now I was the girl and Leslie was where I should be. I really missed my ex-girlfriend. We had broken up over a childish reason. I didn’t care, as far as I knew there would be plenty of girls to come. But now I really missed her. Of course she was in my class and thought that I wanted to be a girl. She was one of those who was hostile to me. The only time she spoke to me was when she needed to or when she wanted to make fun of me. She only went to the bathrooms I wasn’t allowed into and changed in the locker rooms I wasn’t allowed into. I can’t really blame her. I mean the last thing she wanted was for her ex-boyfriend to see her naked.

A lot of the girls in my class noted the way I oggled them in the locker rooms. Most of them wrote it off to curiosity. After all, I had told the whole school I wanted to be a girl, it’s not as if I "liked" girls anymore, or so they thought. I really missed girls. That was the hardest part about going to school, watching all the relationships going on. Watching my friends develop into strapping young men and discovering the joys and delights of young love as they fraternized with all the pretty girls. I was missing out on all this.

Anyway, me and Leslie stayed up most of night kissing and necking each other. After Christmas, the time came to return home. My sister suggested that I should break up with Leslie before I left. After all, I was now going out with Doug so it would only be fair to let Leslie know he could date other people if he wanted to As for me, I was just happy to get rid of Leslie. The less men I had to humour, the better. I also would not have to write anymore sappy debilitating letters to Leslie telling him how much I pined for him. Sure enough, Leslie came over and I began to repeat the break up lines girls had used on me in the past. I told Leslie that he was a great guy and that I really cared for him, but that it would be better if we would just be friends. We lived far off and I only got to see him once a year between summers. I told him I was dating other people. Leslie, to my great surprise, agreed. He told me that he couldn’t just treat me as if I belonged to him and that someone as good looking and wonderful as me should be able to enjoy herself. He confessed that he had also been dating other people. He told me that before he had met me, he could never get a date. But ever since gorgeous little me had gone out with him, the other girls in town thought that he had some sort of secret talent or else why would someone as hot as me date him. He thanked me for giving him a chance. I hoped that would be it, but just then my darling sister walked in.

" Leslie, " Ann said, " how nice to see you. How are you doing? "

" Well, " Leslie answered, " your sister just broke up with me. "

" Really? " Ann continued. " So she told you then? "

" Told me what? " Leslie demanded. " That our sweet little Miss Karen Graham is really a boy. "

My mind screamed. Ann what are you doing? My face went deathly white as I looked back at Leslie. He thought it was a joke. Then when he looked at the terrified expression on my face he stopped laughing. " Wait a minute, " he said, " you can’t be serious. "

" See for yourself, " Ann responded. Before I noticed what she was doing, Ann came up to me and lifted up my skirt, swiftly yanking down my pantyhose and panties in one fell swoop. My penis and balls were there for Leslie to see. I tried to push Ann away but instead my legs became tangled in my pantyhose and I stumbled in my high heels and fell on the floor. I looked up at him in terror as Ann smiled. " Farewell love birds, " she sang as she left the house.

Leslie looked at me with amazement. I slowly got up off the floor and fixed myself up. I was alone in the house with Leslie and he was between me and the door. I used to be bigger then Leslie, but he had matured and grown while I had become more girlish and small. No doubt about it, he could beat the tar out of me all he wanted. "Look," I said, " you’re obviously upset and really pissed off at me. If you want to beat the crap out of me, I understand, but please show some mercy. "

Leslie took a step towards me. Anticipating a blow, I flinched and raised my hands up to my face. Instead he patted me on the shoulder and told me that he did not want to hurt me. He just wanted to get away from me. He said that if I wanted to be a girl, that was my business but that I had no right to fool him. He was obviously disgusted. He said he just wanted to get away from me but he wished me luck in the future, whatever my future would end up like. He headed to the door. As he was about to leave, he turned around and warned me that if anyone in town ever found out he had been dating a boy all this time, he would personnaly hunt me down and pummel me. I had to go down on my knees in front of Ann and beg her not tell anyone else about me. I was very grateful that he had not beaten me up.

We packed up the next day and got back to the city. I was sinking into depression. The next day, Ann told me she had a really big surprise for me. I groaned, that did not sound good at all. Towards the evening, Ann told me that we were going out. Reluctantly I followed her into her car. We drove downtown until finally we parked in front of an apartment building. Ann led me into the building and up the elevator. She told me I was really going to love what was in store for me. I was skeptical about that. At last we reached an apartment door. Ann knocked on the door. I t was answered by a young woman who looked around Ann’s age. She was wearing a bath robe. Smiling, she invited me and Ann inside. Ann told me to go sit on a nearby couch. Idid so, remembering to smooth my skirt and cross my legs. Ann told me that she would pick me up later and left me alone with her strange good looking friend.

When Ann was gone, her friend introduced herself as Gina. Smiling, she stood in front of me and let her bath robe fall down to the floor. She was wearing nothing but a short tight nighty that barely held her ample breasts and revealed her long shapely legs. I simply stared at her and I felt my penis harden. Gina shook her head as all I could do was stare at her without moving. She glided on to the couch next to me and grabbed hold of my hand. " Mark, " she said in a seductive voice, " has it really been so long that you don’t know what to do with a girl anymore? Maybe your mother is right and you really have become a girl yourself? " At first I blushed. She knew I was a boy. Then she sat up and kissed me on the lips and placed my hand on her breasts. Now I understood. She wanted me as a man. I hesitated for a moment.

Was I still capable? Did I really remember how to be a man in a relationship? I looked at cute Gina. She smiled at me. Yes I did remember. In the next minute all the demure girlishness that I had about me vanished as I literally jumped on Gina and gave her an aggressive passionate kiss. I threw off my feminine garments and let my long blonde hair down. All my feminine mannerisms that I had become so used to after a year and a half vanished. I stopped talking with a high feminine lisp and my old male voice came back. True my body looked totally feminine and slim and my breasts were still in the forefront, bobbing around. But I truly appeared like a man in a woman’s body. I really screwed Gina and she loved it. I touched and felt every part of her great body and made her tingle. Finally I rammed my dick into her cunt and felt a rush of ecstasy come over me. Gina let out a joyful cry as she climaxed, throwing her head back in delight.

The next day she served me breakfast in bed and we showered together. Ann hadn’t come by yet and I wasn’t about to call her. Me and Gina spend the day frolicking with each other and screwing around some more. I really scored with her. There was no doubt in my mind now. I was all male. I desperately wanted to be a man and to stay a man.

That evening, Ann came to pick me up. Smiling, she told me that she hoped I had enjoyed myself but that it was time to go back home. Reluctantly, I once again donned my hateful garments. Sliding on the panties, bra, pantyhose, skirt and blouse. Finally the heels. As we left, Gina told Ann that there was absolutely no way I was a girl. Ann just smiled. On our way downstairs she reminded me not to get carried away. I still looked like a girl so I had better remember to keep acting like one. However, Ann noted, I didn’t have to worry. Soon everything would be back to normal and my gender confusion would be resolved. All of this made me very happy. I would not be able to undo the humiliation of the past year and a half or the unpleasant experiences. But I felt confident that soon everything would go back to normal.

The next day, my parents took me to Dr.Short’s new private clinic where she conducted plastic surgery. She had apparently been getting quite a name in plastic surgery and her reputation had grown immensely. I felt terrified when I saw her, after all this was the woman who had given me breasts. I was however, assured by my parents that I was here so that the doctor could normalize everything. I was put under anesthetic and joyfully anticipated waking up again with my breasts gone. When I did wake up, I was extremely dismayed to find that my breasts were still there. As I sat up I felt a pain in my crotch. A sudden panic came over me. I quickly felt my crotch and there was a bandage on it. Why? I tried to call for someone but my voice was different. I looked at a mirror on the night table next to my bed. My Adam’s Apple, which had not been very prominent to begin with, was gone. My throat ached and so did my crotch. Dr.Short entered the room.

" What did you do to me? " I demanded. I was surprisded by the sound of my own voice. It was higher and girlish.

" Well, " answered Dr.Short, " I covered up your Adam’s Apple, that would be a dead give away you know. I adjusted your vocal chords, giving you a higher feminine voice. Your parents didn’t think it was necessary since you spoke like a girl rather well as it was. But I convinced them that it was safer and was worth it as long as I was covering your Adam’s Apple. And of course I removed your penis and testicles and constructed a vagina in their place. "

I let out a hoarse screech in my new voice. " How could you! No! This can’t be happening! "

Dr.Short shook her head. " Look kid, I just did what your shrink and parents told me to do. " I couldn’t believe it. " I hope you’re happy, " she continued, " this operation isn’t reversible. " The next day she took off the bandages. There it was, my new cunt. I broke down crying. Later on I posed naked in front of a mirror. Staring back at me was my reflection. Now I totally looked like a hot teenage girl. I had long golden hair. A shapely body. Large brests and finally, a vagina. I spent the next week, the last week of my winter vacation, at Dr. Short’s clinic recuperating.

My parents and Ann came to stay with me. I screamed at them, but I just sounded pathetic with my new voice. Mom told me to stop being obnoxious. I should have known this was coming. I should stop pretending and realize that this was what I had always wanted. I was now fully a woman and could expect to stay that way for the rest of my life. I already knew that this was true. I guess I should have seen this coming. But I really did not want to be a girl. I could not imagine living the rest of my life as one. Dad comforted me and distracted me with pleasant conversation. He was the best. When he had to leave, he hugged me and said, " don’t worry Karen, we’ll take care of everything."

The next few weeks were rough. At home I would periodically break out into tantrums during which I would lash out at anything or anyone around me. Finally I would collapse onto the floor and lie there sobbing. Or I would lie on the floor and thrash around. If my parents began to believe that they had made a mistake, they didn’t show it.

I went back to school after winter vacation and it didn’t take long for the news to spread after the girls in the locker room got a good look at me. I was all girl now. I did find out later that there had actually been a contest among some of the guys to see who could be the first one to sleep with me. I never responded to their advances, the thought of a penis sliding into me scared me more than anything else. One surprising good thing that came out of all of this was that Doug dumped me. He said that he was no longer interested in dating me, the novelty of it all had worn off.

I never did see Gina again. I now understood what Ann had been up to. She had not done me a favour. My time with Gina was more like a condemned man’s last meal before execution. This was Ann’s ultimate revenge. I had experienced incredible sex with a woman. Now I would never have that feeling again. Now I would no longer be able to have sex with women, I would be on the receiving end from now on. The thought chilled me.

At least once I got "the chop" my life in school settled down. Now that I was "all girl" the guys quit bothering me so often and girls were a bit more accepting. I guess they were all over awed by the fact that I had actually gotten myself castrated. I also made two steady friends so my isolation came to an end. The first was a guy named Roger. He was really funny and made me laugh. We weren’t that good friends, but he went out of his way to show some kindness to me. The other friend was a girl named Christine. She was an old friend of mine and we had been close up until grade nine, when I began to seek out the company of girls who were more generously endowed, if you get my drift. Now though, we became very close again. She had been rather surprised by my "decision" to become a girl. This had taken everyone by surprise. Christine, however, was the only one who minded her own business and didn’t continually harp about it when she was with me.

School finished and dad announced that he had applied for a transfer to his company and that we were now moving away Vancouver to Baltimore, where it was hoped that I would be able to be accepted as a normal girl since no one there would now that I had ever been a boy. Before we left I had a massive garage sale where I had to watch as all of my old male belongings were sold. There was final horrid thing that I did. My sister had asked Dr. Short to preserve my genitals in a jar. Dr. Short had agreed. One night when my sister and mother were alone with me they showed me the jar. Then they lit a fire in our fireplace and forced me to throw my penis and genitals into the blaze. I had to watch as what once was my maleness burn to a crisp. After which I promptly threw up.

We moved. Here I am now in a new country on the other side of the continent. As far as anyone is concerned or knows, Mark Graham never existed. No one here in Baltimore ever met him. To all the people who meet me now, I am Karen Graham, a hot foxy teenage chick. I’m now finishing grade 12, I’m graduating at the end of the year. I don’t know what to do with myself, my school marks are horrible. Ann is now in college and wants to go into medicine. With my education, I doubt I could get into any good university, let alone a serious faculty. Mom tells me that I should get a secretarial job. I am not excited by the prospects. There have been some people who have suggested that I go into modeling. I do look incredible. I realize that my parents have turned me into my own dream girl. I did manage to get a job as a salesgirl in a women’s clothing store at the local shopping mall

I have dated a few men, you can only keep them away for so long. I still haven’t worked up the nerve to have sex with them, although I have already realized that my penis is not going to magically grow back and that I should enjoy myself with what I have. I have masturbated with my new vagina and it works. I still miss my penis, but a guy has to make do with what he has.

I know I can’t have any biological children of my own. Mom, dad and Ann do tell me that I will get married and that me and my husband can always adopt. The thought of me in a wedding dress reduces me to tears. I had always fantasized about marrying a sweet attractive woman and living a great life with her as my partner. Now I was going to be the sweet attractive woman who would make my husband very happy. As for adopting kids, I could never possibly act like a mother. My mom tells me that I should relax and face the fact that this what I had always wanted.

 

© 2000
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.