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New Age by Wendy H "Well, it's about time," Dad said impatiently. He and I had been waiting for my Mom and my sister to get ready for dinner for what seemed like an eternity. "I swear, you women are all alike; you can never get ready on time!" Visibly angered, Mom retorted, "You have no idea what women go through for the sake of beauty!" "Yeah, Dad", Jenna, my sister, added. "Girls are expected to be pretty, and that takes time." I laughed derisively. "Well, it wouldn't take me that long. No way!" Mom and Jenna both said, "Hmph!" And that was the end of that. Or so I thought. A few days later Mom brought in some CDs of some New Age artist I'd never heard of. "Things have been too tense around here lately," she said. "I think listening to this music every night for a little while will help improve our moods." The music was relaxing, and Dad shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence. We started listening to the music, kind of in the background, just before going to bed every night. It seemed to work, and my sleep never seemed so restful. A few days later, as I was taking a shower, I glanced down at my body and felt some dissatisfaction. At 16, I had only recently started to get a significant amount of body hair. For the first time, I looked at my hairy legs and armpits with a feeling that could only be described as...repugnance. Before I knew it, I had shaved my whole body until it was completely hairless. I stroked my silky-smooth legs with satisfaction. There was something in the back of my head that seemed to say that boys are supposed to be hairy, but I couldn't for the life of my see the logic in that. Being hairy was so-gross! I didn't have to take gym at school anymore, so no one would notice. I began shaving my whole body daily. Before long, I noticed how rough my skin was. Luckily, Jenna had some moisturizer in the bathroom, which I began using right after every shower. I reacted with pleasure as I found my skin gradually got smoother and softer. By this time my fingernails were getting a little long, but for some reason, I didn't like the idea of cutting them. One day Mom noticed my ragged nails, and said that I needed to develop better hygiene. "There's nothing more unattractive than a guy with sloppy nails," she said. She gave me an emery board and a cuticle shaper, and showed me how to care for my nails. Then she gave me some clear polish, saying, "This will help keep them strong. Lots of guys use it, even your Dad." Again, I felt a nagging in the back of my mind, but I pushed it away. And later on I noticed that Dad did, indeed, have shiny, well-manicured nails. The next thing I noticed, while looking in the mirror one morning, was how bushy my eyebrows were. I found a pair of tweezers, and plucked until my brows were thin and neatly arched. I regarded my face in the mirror with satisfaction, and continued my morning routine. Dad and I sat in the den one night, listening to the relaxing music, when he suddenly turned to me and said, "Son, you are shaping up to be a fine young man. The girls must be going crazy over you, you look so attractive." I blushed, and said, "Thanks, Dad", as I hugged him. "You're not looking bad yourself!" And he wasn't. His hair was getting longer, as mine was, and his face looked cleaner somehow. He looked very well groomed and handsome. "You know, son, I have a little gift for you. Your Mom turned me on to a new kind of underwear, and I can't believe how much more comfortable it is. I just knew you'd like it as much as I have." And with that, he handed me a package of white nylon panties with lace around the edges. Again I felt something in the back of my head, protesting, but it was lost in my sincere appreciation of the gift. I thanked Dad and promised to try them. The next morning, after my shower, I pulled on a pair of the panties. The feel of the thin, soft fabric was something I had never experienced before. Immediately I fell in love. From that day on I wore my old cotton underwear no more. I had Mom buy some more panties for me, and she obliged with dozens of lacy pairs in colors from pink to black. When Jenna saw this, she giggled, but said, "Well, Larry, it's about time you men caught on!" At breakfast one morning I saw Dad walk in sleepily wearing a cotton dressing gown over a pink nylon nightgown. "You must try sleeping in a nightgown sometime, Larry. It's so much cooler and softer than pajamas." "I'll let you borrow one of mine if you like," Jenna added. Dad was right again. That nightI stripped down to my panties and slipped the nightgown on. The hemline fell several inches above my knees, and the feel of the cool, filmy fabric filled me with ecstasy. I slept very well that night, and was delightfully surprised the next morning as I slipped from beneath the covers to see my hairless legs protruding from the lacy nightgown. Jenna had thoughtfully provided me with a robe also. I slipped it on, reveling in the feel of the nylon and cotton swirling around me. When I walking into the dining room, Mom and Jenna smiled knowingly, and Dad patted me on the back. We all had breakfast and chatted in our nightgowns and robes. I asked Mom to pick up some nightgowns for me, too. From time to time after that, I noticed new things appearing in my drawers and closet. I would see a pair of pants, a shirt, shorts, or socks that I'd never had before. When I asked Mom about this one day, she shrugged and said, "I know how much you like soft things, so every once in a while I pick you up something new." She pinched my cheek and grinned. "I know you're almost a man now, but you're still my little boy. I like doing nice things for you." I seemed to remember times when those kinds of comments had irritated me in the past, very vaguely. But I only felt affection now, and kissed Mom on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. It's very sweet of you." "Besides, Jenn has too many things, so she's been handing you down some things she doesn't wear anymore. You'll have to thank her as well." "Thanks, Mom, I will," I said, and meant it. Lately, I felt a lot closer to my sister than I used to. Just growing up, I thought. Jenn was pleased when I thanked her for her hand-me-downs. She gave me a hug and said, "Anytime, bro'! I was just going through my stuff and found some shoes I have which are too large for me. If you want, you can have them." She produced a pair of shiny patent-leather dress shoes, just like a pair I used to have, except the heel was slightly higher. I tried them on, and found they fit perfectly. "They're cute! I'll have to get used to these platform soles, but I love them. Thanks, sis!" The next morning I decided to do the dress casual look for school. I slipped on a pair of black lace panties, then some of my new black nylon trouser socks. They were ribbed, and reached almost up to my knees. While putting on a new white shirt, I noticed that the buttons were on the opposite side than I was used to. For some reason, this seemed to make more sense, and I couldn't understand why all my old shirts had been different. I pulled on a pair of navy dress trousers, which tapered toward the ankles, and slipped into the shoes Jenna gave me. A gold necklace and bracelet completed the look. I regarded myself in the mirror with hands on my hips, and felt well satisfied with my appearance. When I got home that evening, I passed by my parents' bedroom and saw Dad looking at himself very critically in a full length mirror, clad only in his panties and some sort of lacy undershirt I'd never seen before. I went in and asked him what was wrong. He sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Son, I'm not quite as slim and trim as I used to be when I was your age. I'm thinking about starting an exercise routine, to try to shed some of these excess pounds. Care to join me?" I looked doubtfully at him, but something in his eyes persuaded me to agree. He put his arms around me and gently hugged me. "Thanks, son." The next night Mom had procured an exercise tape and some exercise outfits for all of us. She showed dad and I the proper way to put on tights and leotards, and gave us leg warmers and dainty slippers as well. Soon dad and I, clad in our matching baby blue leotards and white tights, joined the women in the den for an invigorating hour of aerobics, following the instructions of the beautiful, shapely women on the TV screen. After the workout, Dad and I sprawled into chairs, exhausted. My legs were splayed wide apart, but the feeling was growing in me that this wasn't right, so I drew them together. The sensation of my nylon- clad legs rubbing together was a novel one that I enjoyed immensely. I noticed that Dad was rubbing his legs in an absent, thoughtful way. "You know, June," he said, turning to my mother, "I'll bet a pair of these under my thin suit trousers would keep my legs warm on these cold, windy days. And a black pair would look like my normal dress socks." "I'm way ahead of you", Mom announced. I picked both you and Larry up a few pairs of opaque pantyhose. They're a little thinner, but look much better than tights, and will keep you nearly as warm. I even threw in a couple of sheer pairs for fancier occasions." I looked at Mom with puzzlement at that last statement; I knew there was something strange about what she said, but couldn't quite figure out what it was. I shrugged and accepted the packages of pantyhose gratefully, as did Dad. I wore pantyhose under my pants almost exclusively from that day forward; I loved the way they felt on my legs, and they seemed to put extra energy into my stride. Dad and I continued our aerobics sessions every evening, and were pleased to find that we slowly getting into shape. Soon the last day of school before Christmas break was here, and I decided to dress up a little more than usual. I pulled on my panties and camisole (suggested by dad), then eased into a new pair of sheer black pantyhose. I couldn't help but admire how shapely my legs looked in them. I had a navy blue pantsuit which I'd never worn before, and I decided to give it a try. It flattered me beautifully, and with a belt gave me a very slim waist, which pleased me greatly. A hint of lace from the camisole peeked out at the top. I had a pair of platform-heeled slip-on black leather shoes which complemented the whole ensemble. I normally tied my now-long hair into a ponytail, but this morning I decided to brush it out and wear it loose. Looking in the mirror, I saw a blemish, so I used the new concealer stick Jenna had thoughtfully given me to hide it. Lastly, I applied some chapstick to my lips and rubbed them together. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked as if this new brand wasn't exactly colorless. Oh well. My family all effusively praised my appearance, and I walked into school with supreme self-confidence. For some reason, though, my reception was not exactly warm. I got a lot of stares all day, and heard whispering behind my back, although most of the girls seemed to like my outfit. One asked me if I was wearing pantyhose, and when I said I was, giggled and told me I had nice ankles. I blushed, but thanked her. As school let out, I looked up to find Bobby Peterson, the biggest bully in school, blocking the exit, enmity clear in his eyes. And he was looking right at me. "Hey, Jenson," he sneered. "You're looking awfully pretty today." My own actions horrified me, but I seemed to have no volition of my own. "Why, thank you, Bobby, it's sweet of you to notice", I purred. Then I walked up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. I had enough presence of mind to flee while everyone stood in shocked silence. I was very upset when I got home, but I didn't quite know why. I tearfully told Mom the events of the day, and she held me while I cried like a baby. "Why don't you lie down and relax for a while, hon? I'll put some New Age music on and make you some hot tea. You'll feel much better." She was right; after a while I couldn't remember why I had been so sad. I remembered that I had been called pretty, and that made me feel good. I lay in my nightgown that night, dreaming that I was a slender ballerina, spinning in an infinite pirouette. The fall semester at Farson College had ended the week before, so Jenna was also on vacation. We were given a few household chores to do, but mostly we had the entire day to ourselves. I was watching TV when Jen came in and said, "You know bro', you need to do something about your hair." "What do you mean?" I asked. "It look all right to me." "I don't know; I just needs something." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "I know! You need a perm! You'd look great with some curls." For some reason, imagining myself with a perm filled me with excitement. I readily agreed, and Jenn set to work on me. It was a long, boring process, and I spent the time looking at a Glamour magazine. Finally, she was through. I looked in the mirror, and was amazed at what I saw. I had piles of hair in tight little curls, surrounding my face in a very desirable way. I couldn't find any other word to describe the image in the mirror except- pretty! I was pretty! I turned from side to side, admiring my reflection for a long time before I was able to tear myself away. I hugged Jenna warmly and said, "You're the best, sis! It looks great; I can't wait to show Mom and Dad!" Jenna just shook her head and smiled. Mom was very complimentary, but Dad was overwhelmed. "Your hair looks adorable!" he exclaimed. "It makes you look very pretty, Larry, even beautiful." I blushed. He fingered his ponytail ruefully. "It's too bad I can't get one, too, but I doubt if it would meet the company dress code." I felt a little sorry for Dad; his job kept his beauty caged. I just knew a perm would work wonders for him, too, and I couldn't quite understand why his employers would keep a man from making himself as beautiful as he could. The next day, Jenna suggested we go shopping. I never had much enthusiasm for shopping before, but now it seemed like a great way to spend the day. I pulled on panties and sheer tan pantyhose, then picked out a long-sleeved baby blue pullover and a pair of jeans. I fixed my hair and slipped on some loafers, and met Jenn at the door. She looked me over critically and said, "Why don't you ever wear skirts? A blue jean skirt would really liven up that outfit." I tried to remember the reason I had never worn a skirt, but couldn't think of it. "You may be right, sis-do you have one I could borrow?" She did, and also gave me a short half slip "to keep your skirt from sticking to your stockings" and also a pair of black flats "to replace those terrible loafers." I went into my bedroom and took off my jeans, then pulled up the slip and skirt. Slipping on the flats, I looked in the full- length mirror and knew that Jenna was right. The skirt and shoes looked fabulous on me! She smiled as I walked out of the bedroom, and I did a little twirl. "You've got great legs-it would be a shame to hide them away all the time." I rubbed my nylon-clad legs together and thrilled at the sensation. "There's just one thing, though, sis-this skirt doesn't have any pockets. Where am I going to put my wallet and other stuff?" "That's simple, silly", she said, handing me a purse. I filled it with my essentials, all the while secretly excited. My first skirt and my first purse! I fairly skipped out the door, I was so happy. We had a wonderful time shopping that day, going from store to store. A few people looked at me strangely, but I couldn't for the life of me understand why. What was more normal than a boy and his sister shopping for dresses? We had lunch at a charming curbside cafe, and while I sat there eating a boy of about eighteen sat down close by and said with a grin, "You've got pretty legs. What's your name?" Smiling and blushing all at once, I brushed back a stray lock of hair and said, "Larry-what's yours?" But his expression changed to one of shock, and he slowly backed away, then ran off. "I wonder what got into him?" Jenn shrugged and said, "There are a lot of weird people out there." We giggled and resumed our meals. At the end of the day I had quite a haul. I bought several dresses, skirts, and slips, as well as lots of pairs of shoes. Strangely enough, Jenna bought hardly anything at all, saying that she liked looking more than buying. By the time we returned home, Mom and Dad were already in from work. Mom complimented me on my outfit, saying that she was glad to see me making an effort to be pretty. I was in the midst of showing her my purchases when Dad came out from the bedroom where he had been changing clothes. Normally he put on a long, loose shirt and some comfortable leggings after a hard day at the office, but today, for the first time, he wore a long cotton housedress. "Looks like you and I had the same idea, son," he said with a smile. "I found this dress and some others in the back of the closet. I don't remember buying them, but they must be mine." He spun around, making his skirt flare out. "I don't know why I haven't been wearing them, they're so much more comfortable than pants." I couldn't help agreeing. I couldn't imagine wearing anything other than dresses or skirts from now on. Pants just seemed kind of bland and uncomfortable. I showed him my purchases, and he chattered appreciatively about how pretty and flattering the outfits were, remarking that it was about time that he renovated his wardrobe as well. "Hold on a minute, boys," Mom said. "You know that Christmas is only a few days away. Larry, I know you needed some new outfits, but I wish you had held off until after Christmas. Let's not buy anything more until then." I reddened, knowing that Mom was right. I apologized, and Mom accepted it with a hug. And that was the end of that. After dinner, Jenn and I did the dishes while Mom did Dad's hair. He and I sat on the couch later on that evening, he with a head full of curlers and his pretty dress, me with my pink baby doll pajamas, watching "Steel Magnolias" and talking about fashion and all the other "boy talk". I couldn't imagine anything more normal, or more satisfying. The next day was Saturday, so we all slept in. After breakfast, Dad and I volunteered to clean the house while Mom and Jenna watched TV. He and I flitted around in our housedresses making sure everything was clean and orderly. Afterward, Dad took out his curlers and brushed his hair out. It was quite long by now, and the curls made him look beautiful. When he looked in the mirror, he started crying, saying, "All my life I wanted to be pretty. Now I finally feel that I am." I started crying, too, and we hugged each other in a tender embrace. Later on, Mom suggested we go for a little drive through the countryside, and the rest of us thought it was a great idea. I pulled on a pair of white tights, a slip, and a sweater dress, stepped into some flats, and grabbed my purse. Dad was already ready, clad in a red, ankle-length knit dress, black tights, and black skimmers. But when Mom and Jenna emerged, they looked at us both critically. Mom said, "Guys, do you notice how your dresses don't fit right in the chest area?" We admitted that we did. "Well, why aren't you wearing your falsies and bras? You'll look much better with them on." I couldn't remember having falsies or bras, and neither could Dad. But at Mom's urging, we went and looked in our lingerie drawers. Sure enough, I found lots of bras and a pair of silicone breast forms. I took off my slip and dress and put the bra on, slipping the breast forms inside the cups. They were fairly heavy, but felt so.natural, so right. I felt so dumb for forgetting such an essential part of my wardrobe. I put my slip and dress back on, and was pleased with my new figure. When I rejoined the family, I noted with approval Dad's improved bustline. "That's better," said Jenna, and we proceeded to have a lovely evening, watching the scenery go by as we drove down the highway. Before I knew it, Christmas Day had arrived. It was a family tradition that we all get dressed up and join the family at my Grandmother's house, and this year was no exception. I vaguely remembered that, in years past, I had disliked dressing up in my best clothes for the occasion, but I was very much looking forward to it this year. The previous night Dad and I had done each other's nails, and my fingers and toes were tipped with candy-apple red. After a shower and full-body shave, I slipped into bra and panties and sat down at my vanity. I decided to wear my hair up today, and spent a fair amount of time getting it just the way I wanted. I noticed some makeup on the table, and without thinking, began putting it on. I applied the foundation and set it with powder, then stroked on some subtle blush. Black eyeliner and mascara followed, then delicately shaded eyeshadow. Some barely noticeable work on my eyebrows next; I then lined and colored my lips. I was just setting down the lipstick when I froze. Since when did I know how to put on makeup? I'd never done it before! But when I looked into the mirror it didn't really matter anymore. I was beautiful! I looked so grown-up, so feminine. I was sure none of the other guys were any prettier than I! It took a while before I could tear my eyes away and finish getting dressed, but I finally did. I pulled on a sheer pair of white panyhose, a slip, and a short red dress which displayed my legs nicely. My heels matched my dress. I donned a gold necklace and matching gold clip-on earrings, making a mental note to get my ears pierced as soon as possible. The family was waiting on me when I emerged. Mom and Jen were similarly attired in blouse and slacks of muted colors, very attractive but quite subdued. Dad, on the other hand, was resplendent in a short- sleeved velvet dress with calf-length skirt. He wore sheer black hose and strappy high heels. He had styled his long hair to perfection, and the muted makeup he wore accentuated his lovely face. I couldn't remember Dad being quite so beautiful before. It's no wonder Mom fell for him, I thought. We headed out to Grandma's, and I can't remember ever having such a lovely Christmas. Both Mom's sisters and their families were there; although everyone lived so far apart, everyone tried to make it in for Christmas. Aunt Laura and her husband, Willie, commented on how grown-up I was getting to be. Willie was driving a truck the last time I'd seen them, but he had recently changed jobs, and now was making a living as a Mary Kay representative. As might be expected, his makeup and hair were perfect. He had lost quite a bit of weight, and looked fairly attractive in his floral print dress. Their son, Alvin, was about eleven, and was getting into the stage where he was very conscious about his appearance. He had on an ankle-length black flowered jumper over a white tee. He trying to look grown up, as he had on Mary Janes with a slight heel, sheer pantyhose, and even a touch of makeup. I also noticed he was wearing a training bra. Though I vaguely remember him being kind of crude and rowdy, he sat very sweetly and quietly the whole time. I complimented him on how pretty he looked, and he blushed prettily. Aunt Amy, Uncle Freddy, and the twins, John and Jane, were all clad in father-son-mother-daughter dresses, which I thought was cute. The dresses were navy blue with white lace trim around the collars. But while the mother and father wore matching sheer suntan hose and navy heels, the twins, who were about six, wore navy tights and black patent- leather shoes. I learned that Amy had gotten a promotion to vice- president, and that Freddy had quit his job to be a full-time househusband. Grandma said she was very proud to have such a beautiful family, and meant it. I couldn't remember a family get-together that was so pleasant and free of strife. Dad happily discussed makeup tips with Uncle Freddy, whom he formerly couldn't stand. At least I think that was the case. My memory of previous Christmases seemed a little cloudy, for some reason. I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something very strange was going on, that everyone was much different than I remembered, although I didn't quite know why. But no matter; I had a lovely time. Alvin got some makeup and nail polish, and I did his nails while we chatted about fashion. The twins were flitting around in their new dress-up clothes; Jane was dressed as a princess and John as a ballerina. I got some pretty clothes, including a beautiful blue strapless evening gown which I immediately fell in love with. Dad and I also got our ears pierced; Willie had his piercing gun and some gold studs for each of us. It was a wonderful day, and I was sorry to see it end. It only a few days later that I made the fateful discovery. My mother and sister had gone back over to my grandmothers' for a while. I was looking through Jenna's collection of romance novels when a photograph fell out of one book. I picked it up, and when I looked at it I was mystified. It was a picture of four people. Two of them were clearly Mom and Jenna, but the other two, although very familiar, I could not readily identify. One was a handsome older man, in about his mid-forties, and the other was a teenage boy. After staring and wracking my brain for a good while, it finally dawned in me-the two males were Daddy and I! But why were we dressed as men? A few puzzling memories were flashing through my head, and I got the feeling that there was a dam in my mind that was getting ready to burst. In distress, I cried out to Daddy. She came running and concernedly asked, "What's wrong, Lydia, honey?" I handed her the picture. After staring at it for a few moments, she slowly sat down. There was a dazed look on her face; at length she whispered, "We've been turned into women." When I heard that statement, the dam in my mind burst, and full knowledge flooded in. I remembered my boyhood, who I was before, and my transformation from Larry to Lydia. But what caused this to happen? Daddy and I looked at each other, and we said simultaneously, "The New Age Music!" It didn't take a great deal of extra snooping to figure out the rest of the story. Mom and Jenna had had enough of our male arrogance, decided to teach us a lesson, and so they found and bought this special New Age music. It was designed to shape male brainwaves, slowly transforming the patterns from masculine to feminine. It sounded like science fiction, but here we were-our bodies were male, but we were definitely women! "Daddy, what should we do?" I asked. I was almost afraid to hear the answer. "Well, I'm not going to go back to being a man, even assuming that the transformation is reversible", she declared. I felt relieved. I didn't want to go back, either. I was a girl, and I loved everything about it. "But", she said with a concerned look, "this creates some problems for us. I have to go back to work soon, and you to school. We are just a bit different than when we left. But I think that if we can talk to the right people, we can work both of our situations out." She looked at me, and she was almost ready to cry. "Things aren't right between your mother and I now. She feels more like a sister to me, not a spouse." Then her look turned to anger. "It's obvious that there is a conspiracy here. Not only are your mother and Jenna involved, but your aunts and your grandmother, too." I nodded, remembering the events at Christmas. She thought for a few moments, then said coldly, "Let's call your uncles. We all need to talk." ***** Well, Daddy and I were able to get things worked out. She was allowed to keep working as a woman in her current job, and I transferred to a different school, where it would not be known that I was once a boy. I'm dating the school's basketball star now. He pampers me and makes me feel like a princess, but I don't think he'll be my boyfriend forever. I'm a special woman, and need a special man. I keep thinking about my friend Carol, and how handsome she could be-with a little help. She's a little plain right now, but she will make a terrific hunk when I'm through with her. Kind of like my Mom. He and my big brother Jeff are doing fine now. It's funny, but their transformations didn't take quite as long as did Daddy's or mine. They realized what was going on fairly early in the process, but I guess their guilt made them give in. My aunts and Grandma were a bit more recalcitrant, but the end result was still the same. They're sweet guys, and lucky they have us girls to keep them straight. Jeff is probably going to get married soon. His fiancee, Michelle, used to be called Mike. But that's an entirely different story. (the end)