Son loves father 2
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Dad sat across from me at the table and shoveled oatmeal into his mouth more out of habit than for nourishment. Dark circles under his blue eyes confessed a lack of sleep. His constant sad expression made him look older than his forty-seven years. It didn't help that his hair had rescinded back to his ears. Worry had thinned his once bulky frame. He had been in a declining emotional state since my mother had left us last spring.
The day after I graduated high school my mother packed her suitcases and left to find herself. She said that she had devoted her life to my father and to raising me and now that I was grown she was going to live for herself and that didn't include my father or me for that matter.
My father had been forced to sell his business and our house and the profits divided with my mother to settle the divorce. Even my college fund had fallen victim to her lawyer and now I went to the local community college instead of to the university I had planned to attend. I still lived with Dad in a small two bedroom townhouse apartment.
Dad had gotten a job with a former competitor. He was miserable with it, but at forty-seven there weren't many opportunities available. Looking across the table at me, he said, "The company Christmas party is tonight. So you'll have to make your own plans for supper."
"No sweat, Dad. I'll order pizza or go out with some friends. Maybe you should take a date."
Dad laughed bitterly. Frowning he said, "Even if I could find a woman at the last minute, I'm not ready to date. I don't think I'll want a relationship with a woman ever again after your mother broke my heart."
Outside an automobile horn honked. I looked out the window and spotted the white hybrid with the "Save the Planet" bummer sticker and said, "That's Britney, I have to go."
"Study hard, Alex and learn something new," my father teased me then mussed my hair with his hand. His fingernails gently sc****d my scalp as he continued, "And, get a haircut."
I pushed my glasses back up my nose and looked deep into my father's blue eyes. The sadness they reflected filled me with emotion. I blinked to keep from tearing up. I paused before opening the door and gave my father's six foot frame a hug. I said, "Bye Dad, try to have a good day."
He nodded stifling his own emotions, "Yeah Alex, you too."
Thunder clapped in the distance. I ran to the waiting car hunched under my backpack. The smell of rain danced on the static electricity that filled the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. A change in the atmosphere was being heralded. Yeah, a change was definitely coming.
"Hey, Britney," I said as I threw my backpack in the backseat and climbed into the compact car.
The big-boobed blonde smiled at me and said, "Hey, yourself."
Britney put the car in gear and eased into traffic. She wasn't my girlfriend. She was just a friend that was a girl who drove me to school since I didn't have a car. She pushed the car's lighter and placed a cigarette between her full lips. After her cigarette was lit, she pursed her lips and blew a stream of smoke. Instantly the car was filled with a bluish haze.
I coughed and waved by hand in front of my face in an attempt to clear the smelly smoke. "Why do you smoke so much?"
"Because it pisses my father off," she answered, blowing smoke.
"Well, your father isn't in this car right now."
"Okay, okay, don't be such a pussy," Britney said snubbing out her cigarette. She sped up the on ramp to the highway and headed north to the community college.
Sitting in silence, I thought about my dad. He had fallen to pieces since my mother had taken off. He was barely holding on to his job due to his demoralized state. His boss had already reprimanded him twice for tardiness and chastised him for a lack of initiative. While I had tried to give him emotional support, there was only so much a son can do. He needed a woman I concluded.
I met Britney in the Student Union for lunch. As I chewed on piece of pizza, I mulled over my father's dilemma. With a sudden inspiration I glanced at Britney, who came from a wealthy family, and asked, "Can I borrow some money?"
"What for?"
"I want to hire an escort for my dad."
"Wow. Can't your dad hire his own hooker?"
"It's not like that, but no he can't. He's nearly broke. My mother financially cleaned him out with the divorce. I think he needs a woman to boost his morale, he's been really depressed. I just think if he had a date for his company's Christmas party, it would cheer him up."
Incredulously, Britney asked with a smirk, "And you think the best way you can help your emotional shattered father is to hire a hooker to be his date for a company function?"
"Not when you put it like that," I replied with a grimace. I choked on my own emotions. After clearing my throat I added, "I need to do something."
Britney looked me directly in the eye and said, "You be his date."
Thinking that she was joking, I laughed.
"I'm serious. You be his date to the party."
I was taken aback. Frowning, I said, "My father's not a homosexual and neither am I. Besides that's kind of i****tuous."
"i****tuous? Maybe, but the reason i****t is taboo is to prevent sexual abuse and since you're eighteen and a consenting adult I don't see it as a big deal."
"How about this for a big deal, my father and I are not homosexuals."
Britney laughed then said, "I'm not suggesting you be a homosexual. I'm suggesting you be a woman for your father."
"What?"
"At present nobody loves your father like you do, right?"
"Okay," I agreed with a nod.
"So does your dad simply need a woman for a sexual release or does he need a women to give him a physical expression of love?"
Furrowing my brow, I thought for a moment then responded, "You're talking about the difference between sex and making love. So sure my father needs to make love."
"Your father is not a homosexual, therefore to give him what he needs, you have to become a woman."
I stared at Britney as I digested what she was suggesting. Shrugging I said, "I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Google Twiggy on your smartphone," directed Britney before biting into her sandwich.
I did as she instructed. After I found the Internet entry on Twiggy, I read it out loud, "Twiggy was the world's first supermodel, known for her androgynous looks, large eyes, thin build and short hair."
"Does it have a picture?"
"Yeah."
She took a sip of her soda then said, "Twiggy was 5'6" weighed 112 lbs. and had a 31-23-32 figure, with an androgynous sex appeal."
"So?"
Britney shot me a Cheshire Cat grin and said, "So, at your height and weight, I can make you look just like Twiggy."
I glanced down at the photo on my phone and asked, "How?"
Britney smile again then said, "Skip your afternoon classes and come home with me. I'll show you."
For a moment I studied Britney's expression to judge her sincerity. My stomach churned with nervousness, as I thought of my father's downward trajectory. I took a leap of faith and nodded my head.
After we arrived at Britney's apartment, she took me by the hand and led me inside to her bedroom. She sat me at her dressing table and stood behind me like a beautician. She went to work teasing my hair with a brush. Her large breasts bounced beneath her shirt to the tempo of her flailing arms. She took a pair of scissors and gave my hair a few snipes. Looking at my reflection, she said, "There, a perfect pixie. I'll add some red highlights to spice up your hair and get the attention you crave."
Bewildered, I remained silent.
She went into the bathroom and handed me a shower cap with tiny holes in it. She ordered, "Put this on. I'll be back in a minute."
I complied and heard Britney rummaging around in the kitchen.
She returned with some kind of paste she had whipped up in a bowl. After handing me the bowl, she pulled strands of my brown hair through the tiny holes of the shower cap. Once she was satisfied that she had enough strands, she took a small paint brush and applied the paste to the strands of hair. She explained, "This is a paste made from cinnamon and water with a bit of lemon juice. We'll let this set while I put your face on."
Britney scooted me around on the bench and began applying some kind of cream to my face. She talked as she worked, "Always moisturize first, you'll thank me later for that advice, dry skin needs to be hydrated with a creamy foundation before you apply concealer or blush."
She put down the foundation and picked up concealer. She dotted the peach-colored concealer onto the dark areas under my eyes. Exchanging the concealer for blush, she lightly brushed it on my cheek bones, "That will add some pop. Now to set you face," she spritzed my face with mineral water.
Britney stepped back and studied me for a moment then reached for the eyeliner. "Now your face is in place, we need to highlight your eyes and lips. I like to apply eyeliner first, then the eye-shadow."
She applied a light pink lipstick to my mouth, "Never highlight your lips and eyes at the same time. You'll look like a clown. I highlighted your eyes with a smoky eye-shadow so we'll go with just a very light red gloss on your lips."
Finally, she pulled the shower cap off my head and quickly brushed my highlighted hair into place. A satisfied smile painted her face. Her voice trembled with excitement, "All finished. What do you think?"
I turned around on the bench and faced the mirror. My mouth fell open, I didn't recognize myself. Usually when I looked in a mirror I saw a nondescript looking guy, but now I saw a beautiful woman. I choked, "I can't believe it. Is that me?"
"I knew you'd pass for a woman, Alex," Britney said then she asked, "So do you want to be your father's date?"
I looked back at my reflection and just nodded.
With a commanding presence Britney said, "Okay we have a lot to do and short time to do it. So let's get started. I want you to take a bubble bath right now, not a shower. Women find something spiritual about a bubble-bath. I'll light some aroma therapy candles for you."
With a silent nod, I followed Britney down the hall to the bathroom. She threw a scoop of bath salts into the bathtub before turning on the water. Once the tub began to fill and bubbles began to rise, she lit several candles. She instructed me, "First, wash your hair, but don't get your face wet and ruin your makeup. Then, I want you to shave all your body hair...pits, pubs and legs. Got it?"
Nodding, I stripped out of my clothes. I couldn't believe how excited I had become. My penis had always been small and it was difficult for me to think of it as a penis while sporting feminine makeup. I squeezed it with my hand and felt it pulsate with excitement. Talking to myself, I said, "I'll think of you as my big clit instead of my small pecker."
Turning off the water, I slipped beneath the bubbles and quickly washed by hair, careful to keep my face out of the water. Resurfacing, I inhaled the aroma from the candles then used a luffa instead of a washcloth, it felt more feminine to me. I didn't have a lot of body hair so in no time I had shaved my pits, my pubs and my legs.
Closing my eyes, I just soaked. My mind raced with questions: Could I pass for a girl in public? What if I didn't? Would I embarrass my father? Would he think I was a freak?
Inhaling deeply, I caught the calming scent of lavender. I began to understand what Britney had meant when she said bathing was a spiritual experience. With a half grin, I recalled the time I caught my father and mother having sex. It was about two in the morning and I had gotten up to get a drink of water. I heard moaning coming from their bedroom. Stopping in the shadows, I watched as Dad thrust his hard cock in out of Mom's pussy. I remembered his look of satisfaction as he filled her pussy with his cum. I wondered if I could give him the same gratification and grew excited.
I focused on the image of my father's big hard cock glistening with sex secretions. Sucking on my middle finger, I imagined that it was Dad's hard cock. After a couple of minutes, I raised legs out of the water and rested them on the edge of the tub. My legs were spread just like Mom's had been when she had received my father's throbbing cock.
Shyly, I slid my wet finger up my ass. My anus clamped down hard on it. My big clit pulsated and wept pre-cum. I gave myself just a couple of seconds to adjust before I slowly withdrew my finger. When just my fingernail remained inside me, I jammed my finger back inside myself. With a moan, I increased the tempo of my fingering. I stimulated my big clit, as I now thought of it. Water sloshed on the floor as my body writhed in the tub. Hot cum spewed over my belly in a torrent. I actually barked my release and cried, "Dad! Dad!"
There was a knock on the bathroom door as I came down from my climatic height. I pulled my finger from my ass, then choked, "Yes?"
"Alex, let me in," said Britney from the other side of the door.
Quickly, I let the water out of the tub, grabbed a towel and mopped up the puddles from the floor. Britney's impatient knocking hurried me along, but it still took two towels to soak up all the water. I wrapped another towel around my waist and opened the door.
Britney entered the bathroom like a whirlwind. She placed some items on the vanity then spun around ripped the towel from my body.
"Hey!" I objected covering my crotch with my hands.
"I need to see you," Britney's voice was as firm as her grip as she pulled my hands away from my body. She had me turn completely around as she inspected me. Then she said, "Very good, nice and smooth."
My face still felt heated from my blush, but I nodded. "As a boy you have a tiny penis, but an enormous clit for a girl. I once read an anatomical study for my biology class that described the penis as a big clitoris that has been pulled out of the body. The clitoris becomes erect just like a penis, and has nerve endings in it just like the head of penis and if stimulated results in climax. The only real difference is the penis contains the urethra."
She handed me a bottle of baby oil and said, "Rub that on your legs and pubic area to keep from getting razor rash."
With the lid down I sat on the toilet and did what I was told. I asked, "Do you really think I can pull off being a girl?"
"I can make you look like a beautiful girl and I can teach you all the techniques girls use to hide their flaws but, in order to be a girl you have to act like a girl. To act like a girl you have to think like a girl."
"So how do girls think?" Then I blinked and asked with an incredulous pitch, "And what flaws do I have that need to be hidden?"
Britney chuckled, "That's exactly how a girl does think and that's the exact tone she would use."
"Huh?"
"Women are much more conscious of their looks than men. It's the primordial rules of attraction. Women instinctively know that it's their looks that first attract a mate. So when anything is said about our looks we pay attention."
Understanding, I nodded and asked, "And my flaws?"
"Where to begin, you're flat-chested, you have several chin whiskers and you're more androgynous than feminine."
"Oh." Britney's words hurt me more than I thought possible. I whined, "So I look like a freak."
She hooked her finger under my chin and pulled my head up forcing me to look into her eyes, "Alex, we'll either fix or hide your flaws. All women do. We'll take care of your whiskers with tweezers. And, we'll highlight you're beautiful almond eyes to draw attention to your face and away from your boobs. You do have assets we can highlight, like your eyes and legs and that tight little butt. You will be beautiful I promise."
I whispered,"Thanks. It'd nice to be good-looking for a change."
Britney nodded and handed me a pair of pink panties. "Put these on."
I slipped on the cotton panties and turned my body so I could see how they fit in the bathroom mirror. My butt cheeks peeked from the leg holes. I smiled at my reflection. My butt did look good in the tight pink material. I felt my big clit twitch.
"Just like a girl." Britney smiled at me. She noticed the soaked pile towels in the tub and asked, "Why did you use some many towels?"
I mumbled, "I sloshed water on the floor when I was bathing."
"Were you masturbating?" grinned Britney knowingly.
Red-faced I nodded.
"I'm sure you've masturbated before and haven't made such a big mess. Why this time?"
"Uh, I was thinking...thinking about my father...and what it might feel like to...to be penetrated by his cock," I choked with blood pounding in my ears. My confession left me dizzy and flushed.
Britney's grin widened into a smile, "So you fingered your ass and experienced the most intense orgasm you've ever had, right?"
"Yes! I never felt anything like it when I jerked off like a boy."
"You discovered your G-spot. All women have a G-spot on the inside wall of the vagina and when it is stimulated, the orgasms are incredible. Your G-spot is your prostrate and you just happened to massage it when you were climaxing."
Britney slapped my ass playfully, "Go to my room, Alex, we have a lot to get done and we're running out of time to do it."
I squealed with elation and ran down the hall chased by Britney, who popped my ass with a wet towel. Giggling with schoolgirl giddiness, I slipped into red and white candy stripped tights that Britney dug out of her chest-of-drawers, followed by a wrap-around denim skirt and a too large gray sweatshirt.
Handing me, my own tennis shoes Britney said, "You'll have to wear your shoes. You have a neo-grunge look. Not very fashionable, but you are passable for a girl."
"Really? You think I really look like a girl?"
Britney smiled, "Yeah in an androgynous sort of way, but by the time I get done with you at the mall you're going to be a beautiful maiden."
"It would be nice to look beautiful. I get so tired of being plain." I said with a smile.
She grew serious, "Alex I can make you look like a girl, but you going to have act like a girl."
"How do I act like a girl?"
"Remember to act like a girl by not acting like a boy. Such as making sure you sit down to pee."
We both laughed.
"And you'll need to feminize your attitude as well as your actions."
"What do you mean?" I asked. There was so much to remember.
As we walked outside to her car, Britney said, "Sexy doesn't reflect your looks as much as it reflects your attitude. Just like Twiggy, plus-size girls like Anna Nicole Smith were considered sexy because of their attitude."
"Attitude?"
"Yeah, a here I am bitches attitude. You can like me or not, I don't care, this is who I am."
Nodding with understanding I said, "Okay."
As we drove to the mall Britney continued her feminization instruction. "Alex, you need to talk like a girl. I did some quick research on the Internet while you were in the bathtub. The trick is in the pitch and tone of the voice. The female voice is just one third of an octave higher than that of a male. But, the most important thing is to speak like a female using the word choices females use."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Pretend I'm your father and ask if you can be my date for the party."
Raising my pitch slightly I said, "Dad, can I be your date to the party?"
"Your pitch is perfect, but most girls call their fathers, daddy not dad."
"Okay, Daddy, can I be your date for the party."
"Perfect," said Britney as she pulled into a parking space at the mall.
The first store she herded me towards was a shoe store. She had me try on several different styles of high heels, everything from a five-inch stiletto to an inch-and-half kitten heel. She correctly surmised my awkward walk would give me away and settled on a pair of black leather boots that hit me just below the knee with a three-inch wedge heel. She said, "You don't have time to learn to wear high heels, but you should be able to navigate on the wedge heels of these boots and they'll accentuate your butt and make it appear more feminine.
The day after I graduated high school my mother packed her suitcases and left to find herself. She said that she had devoted her life to my father and to raising me and now that I was grown she was going to live for herself and that didn't include my father or me for that matter.
My father had been forced to sell his business and our house and the profits divided with my mother to settle the divorce. Even my college fund had fallen victim to her lawyer and now I went to the local community college instead of to the university I had planned to attend. I still lived with Dad in a small two bedroom townhouse apartment.
Dad had gotten a job with a former competitor. He was miserable with it, but at forty-seven there weren't many opportunities available. Looking across the table at me, he said, "The company Christmas party is tonight. So you'll have to make your own plans for supper."
"No sweat, Dad. I'll order pizza or go out with some friends. Maybe you should take a date."
Dad laughed bitterly. Frowning he said, "Even if I could find a woman at the last minute, I'm not ready to date. I don't think I'll want a relationship with a woman ever again after your mother broke my heart."
Outside an automobile horn honked. I looked out the window and spotted the white hybrid with the "Save the Planet" bummer sticker and said, "That's Britney, I have to go."
"Study hard, Alex and learn something new," my father teased me then mussed my hair with his hand. His fingernails gently sc****d my scalp as he continued, "And, get a haircut."
I pushed my glasses back up my nose and looked deep into my father's blue eyes. The sadness they reflected filled me with emotion. I blinked to keep from tearing up. I paused before opening the door and gave my father's six foot frame a hug. I said, "Bye Dad, try to have a good day."
He nodded stifling his own emotions, "Yeah Alex, you too."
Thunder clapped in the distance. I ran to the waiting car hunched under my backpack. The smell of rain danced on the static electricity that filled the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. A change in the atmosphere was being heralded. Yeah, a change was definitely coming.
"Hey, Britney," I said as I threw my backpack in the backseat and climbed into the compact car.
The big-boobed blonde smiled at me and said, "Hey, yourself."
Britney put the car in gear and eased into traffic. She wasn't my girlfriend. She was just a friend that was a girl who drove me to school since I didn't have a car. She pushed the car's lighter and placed a cigarette between her full lips. After her cigarette was lit, she pursed her lips and blew a stream of smoke. Instantly the car was filled with a bluish haze.
I coughed and waved by hand in front of my face in an attempt to clear the smelly smoke. "Why do you smoke so much?"
"Because it pisses my father off," she answered, blowing smoke.
"Well, your father isn't in this car right now."
"Okay, okay, don't be such a pussy," Britney said snubbing out her cigarette. She sped up the on ramp to the highway and headed north to the community college.
Sitting in silence, I thought about my dad. He had fallen to pieces since my mother had taken off. He was barely holding on to his job due to his demoralized state. His boss had already reprimanded him twice for tardiness and chastised him for a lack of initiative. While I had tried to give him emotional support, there was only so much a son can do. He needed a woman I concluded.
I met Britney in the Student Union for lunch. As I chewed on piece of pizza, I mulled over my father's dilemma. With a sudden inspiration I glanced at Britney, who came from a wealthy family, and asked, "Can I borrow some money?"
"What for?"
"I want to hire an escort for my dad."
"Wow. Can't your dad hire his own hooker?"
"It's not like that, but no he can't. He's nearly broke. My mother financially cleaned him out with the divorce. I think he needs a woman to boost his morale, he's been really depressed. I just think if he had a date for his company's Christmas party, it would cheer him up."
Incredulously, Britney asked with a smirk, "And you think the best way you can help your emotional shattered father is to hire a hooker to be his date for a company function?"
"Not when you put it like that," I replied with a grimace. I choked on my own emotions. After clearing my throat I added, "I need to do something."
Britney looked me directly in the eye and said, "You be his date."
Thinking that she was joking, I laughed.
"I'm serious. You be his date to the party."
I was taken aback. Frowning, I said, "My father's not a homosexual and neither am I. Besides that's kind of i****tuous."
"i****tuous? Maybe, but the reason i****t is taboo is to prevent sexual abuse and since you're eighteen and a consenting adult I don't see it as a big deal."
"How about this for a big deal, my father and I are not homosexuals."
Britney laughed then said, "I'm not suggesting you be a homosexual. I'm suggesting you be a woman for your father."
"What?"
"At present nobody loves your father like you do, right?"
"Okay," I agreed with a nod.
"So does your dad simply need a woman for a sexual release or does he need a women to give him a physical expression of love?"
Furrowing my brow, I thought for a moment then responded, "You're talking about the difference between sex and making love. So sure my father needs to make love."
"Your father is not a homosexual, therefore to give him what he needs, you have to become a woman."
I stared at Britney as I digested what she was suggesting. Shrugging I said, "I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Google Twiggy on your smartphone," directed Britney before biting into her sandwich.
I did as she instructed. After I found the Internet entry on Twiggy, I read it out loud, "Twiggy was the world's first supermodel, known for her androgynous looks, large eyes, thin build and short hair."
"Does it have a picture?"
"Yeah."
She took a sip of her soda then said, "Twiggy was 5'6" weighed 112 lbs. and had a 31-23-32 figure, with an androgynous sex appeal."
"So?"
Britney shot me a Cheshire Cat grin and said, "So, at your height and weight, I can make you look just like Twiggy."
I glanced down at the photo on my phone and asked, "How?"
Britney smile again then said, "Skip your afternoon classes and come home with me. I'll show you."
For a moment I studied Britney's expression to judge her sincerity. My stomach churned with nervousness, as I thought of my father's downward trajectory. I took a leap of faith and nodded my head.
After we arrived at Britney's apartment, she took me by the hand and led me inside to her bedroom. She sat me at her dressing table and stood behind me like a beautician. She went to work teasing my hair with a brush. Her large breasts bounced beneath her shirt to the tempo of her flailing arms. She took a pair of scissors and gave my hair a few snipes. Looking at my reflection, she said, "There, a perfect pixie. I'll add some red highlights to spice up your hair and get the attention you crave."
Bewildered, I remained silent.
She went into the bathroom and handed me a shower cap with tiny holes in it. She ordered, "Put this on. I'll be back in a minute."
I complied and heard Britney rummaging around in the kitchen.
She returned with some kind of paste she had whipped up in a bowl. After handing me the bowl, she pulled strands of my brown hair through the tiny holes of the shower cap. Once she was satisfied that she had enough strands, she took a small paint brush and applied the paste to the strands of hair. She explained, "This is a paste made from cinnamon and water with a bit of lemon juice. We'll let this set while I put your face on."
Britney scooted me around on the bench and began applying some kind of cream to my face. She talked as she worked, "Always moisturize first, you'll thank me later for that advice, dry skin needs to be hydrated with a creamy foundation before you apply concealer or blush."
She put down the foundation and picked up concealer. She dotted the peach-colored concealer onto the dark areas under my eyes. Exchanging the concealer for blush, she lightly brushed it on my cheek bones, "That will add some pop. Now to set you face," she spritzed my face with mineral water.
Britney stepped back and studied me for a moment then reached for the eyeliner. "Now your face is in place, we need to highlight your eyes and lips. I like to apply eyeliner first, then the eye-shadow."
She applied a light pink lipstick to my mouth, "Never highlight your lips and eyes at the same time. You'll look like a clown. I highlighted your eyes with a smoky eye-shadow so we'll go with just a very light red gloss on your lips."
Finally, she pulled the shower cap off my head and quickly brushed my highlighted hair into place. A satisfied smile painted her face. Her voice trembled with excitement, "All finished. What do you think?"
I turned around on the bench and faced the mirror. My mouth fell open, I didn't recognize myself. Usually when I looked in a mirror I saw a nondescript looking guy, but now I saw a beautiful woman. I choked, "I can't believe it. Is that me?"
"I knew you'd pass for a woman, Alex," Britney said then she asked, "So do you want to be your father's date?"
I looked back at my reflection and just nodded.
With a commanding presence Britney said, "Okay we have a lot to do and short time to do it. So let's get started. I want you to take a bubble bath right now, not a shower. Women find something spiritual about a bubble-bath. I'll light some aroma therapy candles for you."
With a silent nod, I followed Britney down the hall to the bathroom. She threw a scoop of bath salts into the bathtub before turning on the water. Once the tub began to fill and bubbles began to rise, she lit several candles. She instructed me, "First, wash your hair, but don't get your face wet and ruin your makeup. Then, I want you to shave all your body hair...pits, pubs and legs. Got it?"
Nodding, I stripped out of my clothes. I couldn't believe how excited I had become. My penis had always been small and it was difficult for me to think of it as a penis while sporting feminine makeup. I squeezed it with my hand and felt it pulsate with excitement. Talking to myself, I said, "I'll think of you as my big clit instead of my small pecker."
Turning off the water, I slipped beneath the bubbles and quickly washed by hair, careful to keep my face out of the water. Resurfacing, I inhaled the aroma from the candles then used a luffa instead of a washcloth, it felt more feminine to me. I didn't have a lot of body hair so in no time I had shaved my pits, my pubs and my legs.
Closing my eyes, I just soaked. My mind raced with questions: Could I pass for a girl in public? What if I didn't? Would I embarrass my father? Would he think I was a freak?
Inhaling deeply, I caught the calming scent of lavender. I began to understand what Britney had meant when she said bathing was a spiritual experience. With a half grin, I recalled the time I caught my father and mother having sex. It was about two in the morning and I had gotten up to get a drink of water. I heard moaning coming from their bedroom. Stopping in the shadows, I watched as Dad thrust his hard cock in out of Mom's pussy. I remembered his look of satisfaction as he filled her pussy with his cum. I wondered if I could give him the same gratification and grew excited.
I focused on the image of my father's big hard cock glistening with sex secretions. Sucking on my middle finger, I imagined that it was Dad's hard cock. After a couple of minutes, I raised legs out of the water and rested them on the edge of the tub. My legs were spread just like Mom's had been when she had received my father's throbbing cock.
Shyly, I slid my wet finger up my ass. My anus clamped down hard on it. My big clit pulsated and wept pre-cum. I gave myself just a couple of seconds to adjust before I slowly withdrew my finger. When just my fingernail remained inside me, I jammed my finger back inside myself. With a moan, I increased the tempo of my fingering. I stimulated my big clit, as I now thought of it. Water sloshed on the floor as my body writhed in the tub. Hot cum spewed over my belly in a torrent. I actually barked my release and cried, "Dad! Dad!"
There was a knock on the bathroom door as I came down from my climatic height. I pulled my finger from my ass, then choked, "Yes?"
"Alex, let me in," said Britney from the other side of the door.
Quickly, I let the water out of the tub, grabbed a towel and mopped up the puddles from the floor. Britney's impatient knocking hurried me along, but it still took two towels to soak up all the water. I wrapped another towel around my waist and opened the door.
Britney entered the bathroom like a whirlwind. She placed some items on the vanity then spun around ripped the towel from my body.
"Hey!" I objected covering my crotch with my hands.
"I need to see you," Britney's voice was as firm as her grip as she pulled my hands away from my body. She had me turn completely around as she inspected me. Then she said, "Very good, nice and smooth."
My face still felt heated from my blush, but I nodded. "As a boy you have a tiny penis, but an enormous clit for a girl. I once read an anatomical study for my biology class that described the penis as a big clitoris that has been pulled out of the body. The clitoris becomes erect just like a penis, and has nerve endings in it just like the head of penis and if stimulated results in climax. The only real difference is the penis contains the urethra."
She handed me a bottle of baby oil and said, "Rub that on your legs and pubic area to keep from getting razor rash."
With the lid down I sat on the toilet and did what I was told. I asked, "Do you really think I can pull off being a girl?"
"I can make you look like a beautiful girl and I can teach you all the techniques girls use to hide their flaws but, in order to be a girl you have to act like a girl. To act like a girl you have to think like a girl."
"So how do girls think?" Then I blinked and asked with an incredulous pitch, "And what flaws do I have that need to be hidden?"
Britney chuckled, "That's exactly how a girl does think and that's the exact tone she would use."
"Huh?"
"Women are much more conscious of their looks than men. It's the primordial rules of attraction. Women instinctively know that it's their looks that first attract a mate. So when anything is said about our looks we pay attention."
Understanding, I nodded and asked, "And my flaws?"
"Where to begin, you're flat-chested, you have several chin whiskers and you're more androgynous than feminine."
"Oh." Britney's words hurt me more than I thought possible. I whined, "So I look like a freak."
She hooked her finger under my chin and pulled my head up forcing me to look into her eyes, "Alex, we'll either fix or hide your flaws. All women do. We'll take care of your whiskers with tweezers. And, we'll highlight you're beautiful almond eyes to draw attention to your face and away from your boobs. You do have assets we can highlight, like your eyes and legs and that tight little butt. You will be beautiful I promise."
I whispered,"Thanks. It'd nice to be good-looking for a change."
Britney nodded and handed me a pair of pink panties. "Put these on."
I slipped on the cotton panties and turned my body so I could see how they fit in the bathroom mirror. My butt cheeks peeked from the leg holes. I smiled at my reflection. My butt did look good in the tight pink material. I felt my big clit twitch.
"Just like a girl." Britney smiled at me. She noticed the soaked pile towels in the tub and asked, "Why did you use some many towels?"
I mumbled, "I sloshed water on the floor when I was bathing."
"Were you masturbating?" grinned Britney knowingly.
Red-faced I nodded.
"I'm sure you've masturbated before and haven't made such a big mess. Why this time?"
"Uh, I was thinking...thinking about my father...and what it might feel like to...to be penetrated by his cock," I choked with blood pounding in my ears. My confession left me dizzy and flushed.
Britney's grin widened into a smile, "So you fingered your ass and experienced the most intense orgasm you've ever had, right?"
"Yes! I never felt anything like it when I jerked off like a boy."
"You discovered your G-spot. All women have a G-spot on the inside wall of the vagina and when it is stimulated, the orgasms are incredible. Your G-spot is your prostrate and you just happened to massage it when you were climaxing."
Britney slapped my ass playfully, "Go to my room, Alex, we have a lot to get done and we're running out of time to do it."
I squealed with elation and ran down the hall chased by Britney, who popped my ass with a wet towel. Giggling with schoolgirl giddiness, I slipped into red and white candy stripped tights that Britney dug out of her chest-of-drawers, followed by a wrap-around denim skirt and a too large gray sweatshirt.
Handing me, my own tennis shoes Britney said, "You'll have to wear your shoes. You have a neo-grunge look. Not very fashionable, but you are passable for a girl."
"Really? You think I really look like a girl?"
Britney smiled, "Yeah in an androgynous sort of way, but by the time I get done with you at the mall you're going to be a beautiful maiden."
"It would be nice to look beautiful. I get so tired of being plain." I said with a smile.
She grew serious, "Alex I can make you look like a girl, but you going to have act like a girl."
"How do I act like a girl?"
"Remember to act like a girl by not acting like a boy. Such as making sure you sit down to pee."
We both laughed.
"And you'll need to feminize your attitude as well as your actions."
"What do you mean?" I asked. There was so much to remember.
As we walked outside to her car, Britney said, "Sexy doesn't reflect your looks as much as it reflects your attitude. Just like Twiggy, plus-size girls like Anna Nicole Smith were considered sexy because of their attitude."
"Attitude?"
"Yeah, a here I am bitches attitude. You can like me or not, I don't care, this is who I am."
Nodding with understanding I said, "Okay."
As we drove to the mall Britney continued her feminization instruction. "Alex, you need to talk like a girl. I did some quick research on the Internet while you were in the bathtub. The trick is in the pitch and tone of the voice. The female voice is just one third of an octave higher than that of a male. But, the most important thing is to speak like a female using the word choices females use."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Pretend I'm your father and ask if you can be my date for the party."
Raising my pitch slightly I said, "Dad, can I be your date to the party?"
"Your pitch is perfect, but most girls call their fathers, daddy not dad."
"Okay, Daddy, can I be your date for the party."
"Perfect," said Britney as she pulled into a parking space at the mall.
The first store she herded me towards was a shoe store. She had me try on several different styles of high heels, everything from a five-inch stiletto to an inch-and-half kitten heel. She correctly surmised my awkward walk would give me away and settled on a pair of black leather boots that hit me just below the knee with a three-inch wedge heel. She said, "You don't have time to learn to wear high heels, but you should be able to navigate on the wedge heels of these boots and they'll accentuate your butt and make it appear more feminine.
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