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Daddy's Little Girl by Rebecca Page Author's Note: It seems that several of my stories found the FictionMania website before I found the website. I was surprised to find one of my older stories, "The Singer" already posted here and the last one I uploaded, "Paid in Full" was already here but under another title. They were both posted on other sites and it pleased me that someone thought them worthy enough to be posted here. They even left my name intact. "Daddy's Little Girl" is my last effort and I honestly can't remember if I ever posted it anywhere else or not. Hope you enjoy it. (Don't laugh at youth for her affectations; she is only trying on one face after another to find her own. -- Logan P. Smith) I can not nor will I attempt to blame my mother for the way my life turned out. She was always there for me with her unconditional love and her total devotion to my happiness. I have reviewed and studied my life from every imagined position and I have concluded that my lack of masculinity could in no way be attributed to my mother's actions. She simply had the foresight to recognize one of natures mistakes and the tenacity to do something about it. My father left Mother and me while I was still a baby and I sincerely do not believe that his masculine influence on my life would have made a great deal of difference in my feminine desires. His presence, however, could have made my transformation process more difficult. This is the story of that transformation..... As a very young child, I don't remember my mother ever suggesting that I play with dolls but I do remember that when I asked for one, she got it for me. I don't remember her dressing me like a little girl but I do remember people saying things like, "He is just to pretty to be a boy" or "He should have been a little girl" or "He has such pretty hair". My mother did love my hair... She kept it clean, neat and long. I delighted in brushing and caring for my beautiful hair and Mother did encourage me in that respect. I loved the feel of it on my neck and shoulders and on occasion, she would help me braid it or tie it back with a pretty ribbon. Don't get me wrong... I really did not consider these things to be sissy. My friends didn't know about the dolls and I did play with boy things. This was during the early sixties and long hair on young boys was not that uncommon and I did not wear ribbons in my hair when I went out to play. I did have several male friends in my neighborhood and we played lots of "boy" games, however, I must admit that I did enjoy playing with girls best. My name was Samuel but my mother had always called me Sammy. Life was good and even though mine was a one parent family I never felt deprived. My mother and I did almost everything together and our love for each other was never in question. She was always there for me and I knew it. Then life changed... I became six and it was time to begin school. That is when my tranquil existence became more complicated. My first traumatic experience came the week before school was to begin. My mother suggested that maybe it was time for her to take me to the local barber shop and get my first, real little boy haircut. That was the first time I ever defied my mother. I couldn't stand the thought of cutting all my wonderful hair off. I begged, I pleaded and I cried all night. I said that I would not go to school if I had to cut my hair. As I look back now, I realize that my mother knew things that I was not aware of. Anyway, she relented and I started the first grade with my long hair intact. On the first day, I noticed that several of the other boys also had their hair rather long and I pointed this out to my mother, "See Mom, long hair is okay here". Then something happened that should have shown me why Mother wanted to cut my hair but I was too young to put it all together at that time. The teacher was going around the room greeting everyone and writing their names on a list. When she got to me she said, "Hello. And what is your name, young lady"? I told her my name was Sammy and that I was not a girl. She was very embarrassed and apologized to me and my mother for her mistake. I couldn't understand this because she didn't make the same mistake with anyone else and there was one boy who had longer hair than I. Before the day was over, three of my classmates had mistaken me for a girl. It just didn't make any sense to me. I wasn't dressed like a girl. Some of the girls did wear blue jeans and a T-shirt like I was wearing but most of them wore dresses on that first day. On the way home from school I asked my mother why everyone thought I was a girl. "Joe Barnes has longer hair than me and no one called him a girl", I said. "The other boys with long hair do not have hair that is as thick and full as yours," she explained. "Their hair is rather thin and unkept while yours is neat and clean like the girls. You are also somewhat smaller than the other boys and your teacher just made a mistake. Don't worry about it. Would you like to go to the barber shop now"? "No", I answered. "I'll grow as big as the other boys and then no one will call me girl again." Well, everything went fairly well that first year. Young children have a way of accepting people as they are and I made lots of new friends. I will admit that I probably did spend too much of my time playing with the girls at recess time. They were simply more fun and the boys played so rough. My grades were good and I was in the top reading group. School was easy and fun. The second grade began well but was falling apart by mid term. I had a teacher who was beautiful and I loved her almost as much as my mother. She did everything in her power to make my school experience enjoyable but she could only do so much. On the first day, she did not make the same stupid mistake my first grade teacher had made. She knew I was a boy. I had grown but I just couldn't seem to catch up with the other boys. They were all still much larger than I was so I began to play even more with the girls. They were not nearly as threatening to me and they never called me sissy which many of the boys had started by Christmas. By the end of the second grade, I hated school. The boys called me sissy all the time and I was even beaten up twice. Now, I had to play with the girls or alone because none of the boys would allow me to play with them. There were many days that I pretended to be sick so that I would not have to go. It had gotten so bad by the end of the year, Mother was forced to set up a conference with school officials and it was decided that I should transfer to another school for the third grade. Before the beginning of the new year, my mother convinced me to have my hair cut. We both cried in the barber shop as my beautiful hair fell to the floor. I hated my new look and for weeks I would begin to cry when I looked in a mirror. My hair had become such a part of me that I was not at all sure I could exist without it. I had decided that being called a sissy was better than this. Most children would have gotten over this in a week or so but I didn't. I blamed my mother and I was mean to her. By the time I entered the third grade I was developing a pretty bad attitude and that year was not much better than the previous one. I had learned to hate boys and again began to spend too much time with the girls. I was still smaller and more delicate than the other boys but I did learn to fight back. Now when I was called sissy, there was a fight. Twice, my mother was called to school because of my fighting. Some of the boys still called me sissy but most were afraid to do it to my face because they knew I would fight and that meant both of us would be sent to the principal's office. During summer vacation, My mother would try and appease me by not requiring me to get my hair cut. You really can't grow much hair in three months though. Just as it would get over my ears, it would be time to start school again so off to the barber I would go. After each haircut I would become a very difficult child which I now realize was unfair to my mother. The summer I turned eleven things began to change. Maybe Mother had reached the limit of her patients or maybe she just couldn't stand the misery I went through after each of those school haircuts. Anyway, the sixth grade was about to begin and it was time for that dreaded haircut. Mother said, "I'll make a deal with you. We'll let the hair grow if you will stop fighting at school." I was overjoyed. I would be happy to give up fighting... Didn't like to fight anyway so I told her she had a deal. "Now remember", she said, "The first time the school calls me because of your bad behavior, off comes the hair". I was the happiest I had been since I started the first grade. I did my work at school and refused to allow the other boys to bother me. I ignored them. I didn't care what they said, I was getting my hair back. I could put up with anything now. Strange as it may sound, the more I ignored them the less fun they seemed to derive from calling me sissy. After awhile it all but stopped. Oh, they didn't invite me into their games but that was okay. I didn't like football and baseball anyway. I was different from the other boys and I was learning to enjoy my uniqueness. At the beginning of summer vacation, just a few weeks before my thirteenth birthday, my mom hit me with the biggest surprise of my life. I was sitting at the kitchen table and she was brushing my hair. It was just something she had enjoyed doing since I was a baby. She always said that if you wanted healthy hair, you must brush it at least 100 strokes a day. Often when she finished with my hair, I would brush her's. She broke a long silence, "Sammy, I have my vacation in two weeks. Where do you want to go this year?" "I thought we were going to the beach again", I answered. "That will be fine." I could tell that there was something else she wanted to say but was looking for just the right words. "I was thinking of something a little different this year", she added. "Where did you want to go?" "Oh, I really don't care where we go. I was.... I was just wondering if maybe you would like to do it differently. I... We... Oh heck, I'll just say it. How would you like to spend this next vacation as my daughter rather than my son?" I didn't say anything. I was so shocked I didn't know what to say. "Probably not a good idea", she continued. "You do seem to have a strong feminine side and I simply thought that maybe you would like to explore it further. I shouldn't have brought it up.... It's a stupid idea." "Gosh Mom, you mean like wearing dresses and girl things for two weeks? I would be scared to death... I wouldn't know how to act. What if someone found out?" Actually I found her suggestion to be most exciting. For some reason I felt that I had to resist but I didn't intend to resist too much. I wondered if she knew that I had been trying on some of her clothes when I was home alone. "I don't have any girl clothes," I added. "We could go shopping for what you would need", she answered. "I don't know if I could do it." Oh what a wonderful week that would be but I was worried that it would take more nerve than I had. "I think I would be too embarrassed to do it. Would you want me to just dress like a girl around the beach cottage? Surely I couldn't go out in public or on the beach dressed that way." I was hoping that I could. "I think we should go all the way. Leave all your boy things home and spend the entire two weeks as a girl. I could help you and I know you are a fast learner. What do you say?" "I don't know what to say", I answered. "I don't think we can get away with it and I would be scared to death." I suddenly became aware that I was protesting too much. I had better give in before she changed her mind. "Okay, let's take it one step at a time." She laid the brush down and sat next to me at the table. "If you are at all interested, let me make an appointment for you at my hairdresser. We will get your hair done, see how you look and if you still have doubts, we will call the whole thing off. I know you would enjoy having your hair styled by a professional, wouldn't you?" She knew my weak spot... I couldn't resist having my hair styled and she knew it. It was time to give in and see where this extraordinary adventure would lead. She managed to get an appointment that week with Josh Crane, the hairstylist who had done my mother's hair for years. She explained to me that Josh was a gay man and did not have any macho hang-ups about men with strong feminine qualities. Even though she assured me that Josh would not question why I was getting a feminine hairstyle, I couldn't help but be somewhat nervous and a little embarrassed. On the day of my appointment I awoke in a state of complete excitement. I was still very tense but I wouldn't have missed the experience for anything. I dressed in a pair of jeans, sneakers and a bulky T-shirt. Mother and I arrived at the salon about ten minutes before our eight o'clock appointment. Josh came out and introduced himself to me and invited us into another room. I was pleased to find that what was to be done to me would be done in private and not in a busy salon where others could watch me blush. I was asked to sit in chair which didn't look nearly as threatening as those barber chairs. Josh ran his hands through my hair and inspected it carefully. "Sam", he said, "You take good care of your hair. No split ends at all". He turned to my mother and said, "This child really has nice hair. Great texture and so very thick. I know you mentioned a perm on the phone but may I suggest another approach?" "But Josh", Mother said, "You realize that we are after a completely feminine style and not just something that looks good on a young boy?" I couldn't believe that my mother had just come right out and said that. "Oh yes, Ms. Chandler, I understand what you want. Believe me, what I have in mind will be severely feminine." "Call me Susan," She interrupted. "I can add a lot of body with the cut and I think we should lighten the color slightly to add some highlights. Sam is a little young for blond but in a few years that would look excellent. I would like to start with a center part", he pulled my hair to either side of my head with his fingers, "and cut it so that it turns under naturally just at his shoulders. The hair will move freely with Sam's every move but will fall back into a 'page' style with ease. After washing, all Sam will need to do is blow dry and, voila, the hair is styled again." "That sounds good", Mother said. "But, what about variations?" "There are many." With his fingers, Josh changed the location of my part. "We can move the part to the right of left and the hair will cover the cheek on the opposite side. Very sexy effect. For a more casual look, we can pull a portion on each side behind the ears and the hair is off his face. Another style I like is to pull these side pieces back and over the other hair. Then fasten it at the back of his head with a clasp or barrette". He pulled my hair back to show Mother what that looked like. "This style also lends itself well to the ponytail when Sam just doesn't want to be bothered with his hair. "Sounds good to me", Mother answered. "What do you think, Sammy?" "Let's go for it," I said. "For a more formal occasion Like maybe your first formal dance or a prom", Josh said as he winked at me. "I can show you how to roll and set your hair with curlers and create a lovely wavy style with curls. Then when you wash and blow dry it will return to our basic style. And we do not have to use any harsh chemicals like we do with a perm." "You've convinced us Josh," said Mother. "Do it... Do it." After what seemed like hours of washing, cutting and combing, Josh stood back and looked at me with a critical eye. He had not allowed me to see myself yet. He walked around the chair and looked at my hair from every angle. After a moment of silence he said, "One more thing you might want to change. Drop the Sammy. You might get away with Sam but I strongly suggest Samantha. Hello world... I present to you the new and beautiful, Samantha!" He then whirled my chair around so that I could see myself in the mirror. I was breathless. The change was unbelievable to the point that I thought I was looking at someone else's image. I shook my head to the right and to the left. My hair spun, bounced and twisted. Then as though it had life of it's own it fell right back into place. My hair had always been thick but now it looked so much thicker, making my face look even smaller and I must add, feminine. I was looking into the face of a young girl and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that I was looking at me. I must really be a sissy because I liked what I saw. I felt that I had just discovered the real me that I had been looking for all my short life. My mother liked it too. I could tell from the broad smile and sparkle in her eyes. "How do you like it, Sam?" That was the first time she had called me anything other than Sammy. Would she start calling me Samantha next? I hoped she would. I was still rather speechless but I did manage to whisper, "I love it." "I'm so glad you like it. I think you are beautiful," said Mom as she gave me a big hug. "How old are you Sam?" asked Josh. "I'm almost thirteen. Why?" "Enjoy this while you can. Puberty is just around the corner and when it gets here it can wipe out what you see today." My mother looked sharply at Josh and asked, "Why do you say that?" "When I look at Sam, I see myself at his age. I also had lovely hair, soft skin, high cheek bones and delicate features. Then came puberty and I was attacked by that dreadful stuff called testosterone. Hair began to grow on my face and body, the soft sweet voice turned to a baritone, the soft skin turned to leather and look what happened to my precious hair." He turned and showed us a big bald spot in the back of his head. "Ugh," I said. "When will I start that?" "Any time now," he said. "Thirteen or fourteen probably. Enjoy femininity while you can, Sam. Once old testosterone gets you it will never quite be the same again. I wish I had done something about it when I young". "What can you do to stop it?" I asked with a trebling voice. "Nothing really. Short of castration," he said. "What is castration?" I asked. My question was ignored. Mother said, "I think a little estrogen might do the trick". "Oh yes, Ms. Chand... Susan, estrogen will slow the process if you can find a doctor who will prescribe it." "I'm a nurse," she shot back. "I've got doctor friends who will prescribe estrogen for Sam if we decide we need it. In fact, I already have a prescription for this summer if Sam decides he wants to go that route. I got it in the hope that it would make him feel better about living the summer as a girl." "Well, good luck to both of you. Estrogen will help but what if Sam decides that he does not want to give up being a girl. Puberty strikes and it is too late to stop the hair loss. It would be a shame for someone with nice hair like this to have to live in wigs all their life. Why don't you get one of those good doctor friends to fix the problem now." "Josh, come on now. Do you really wish someone had castrated you when you were ten or eleven?" "Yes I do," he said. "I sometimes think that is why God hung them on the outside of our bodies. Easy access... Pluck them out like a zit. It has been done since the beginning of time. Even the Church did it to young boys for years to preserve their soprano voices. The Higas in India do it even today to feminine boys. Then there is that famous rock star... How do you think he maintained his feminine voice and looks?" "Well, it is too soon to think about such things now. Sam does not even own his first dress yet and we are probably scaring him to death with this conversation." Josh turned back to me and said, "Sam, I have enjoyed working with you. You can be a lovely girl if that is what you want. Take care of that hair and I expect to see you again in about a month for a trim. I'm sorry if I scared you with all that talk about puberty. It is not something for you to worry about. Many men never lose their hair." When Mother and I reached our car, I asked her what in the world she and Josh were talking about. Castration was a new word for me and from what I had heard, it sounded scary. "Oh Sam, don't worry your pretty head about that now," she said. "I'll go over all that with you tonight. Josh was just pointing out some of our options." "Options for what?" I asked. "I promise we'll talk tonight. What do you say about us stopping at the mall and have some brunch. I'm starved." We had skipped breakfast because of our early appointment with Josh and I was hungry too. "Good idea," I answered. "But, don't forget... We talk tonight." We road in silence for about three miles. I pulled down the vanity mirror on the sun visor and began admiring my new hair style when I suddenly realized that I looked a little too feminine to go into a mall. "Mother," I said. "I can't go to the mall with this girl haircut. Suppose I run into some of my friends from school. They already call me sissy. If they see me looking like this I'll never live it down." "Stop worrying," she answered. "We are going to the mall in Hillcrest. That is thirty miles away. You won't see anyone there you know." I sure hoped not. Even if we didn't see any of my school mates I was still worried about what people would think when they saw a boy with such a sissy haircut. While Josh was doing this to me I didn't even think about what people were going to think. 'Oh, what have I done,' I thought. 'I love this new style and it feels so good but now I will have to stay in the house all summer. Maybe after our vacation trip I can get Josh to change it back to the way it was. I wish I could keep it this way forever'. Well, what I worried about never happened. When we entered the mall, no one seemed to even notice the boy with the girl's hair. In fact, no one even noticed that I was a boy. I got my first real clue when our waitress walked up to us and said, "What can I get for you ladies today?" She thought I was a girl! I wasn't dressed like a girl in my dirty sneakers, jeans and baggy shirt. But then I realized... Most of the young girls in the mall were dressed pretty much the same way I was. The waitress did it again when we were leaving. "You ladies come again." And then she looked right at me and said, "I love your hair, honey." I could feel my face flush. "Let's walk through the mall and do a little window shopping while we're here," Mother said and before I could resist, she took me by the hand and away we went. As I look back now, I realize she knew exactly where we were going. When we reached a popular teen dress shop she said, "Do you mind if we go in here for a minute?" "What for," I said. "Nothing in there will fit you." "I just want to look around... We'll just be a minute." After a very few minutes, she pulled a dress off the rack and asked me how I liked it. I could feel my face turning red again and I looked around to see if anyone was watching us. "Fine," was all I could say. It was rather pretty. It was a short white dress with a sailor collar. There was blue piping around the collar and the hem. The skirt was pleated. It had little blue buttons to the waist which tied with a blue sash. Mother held it up to me and I blushed even more. "I think this would look great with your blue eyes and it would be wonderful for our trip." "Would your daughter like to try that on?" a voice said. I almost jumped out of my skin. A sales lady had walked up behind us and she too had mistaken me for a girl. "Yes she would," answered Mother without even a hesitation. "But we will need a slip and some things so that I can get a proper fit." She handed the dress to the sales lady. "If you would find us a dressing room, we will be along in a minute." I was afraid to complain... I certainly did not want to draw any more attention to myself. Mother took me by the hand and lead me to the lingerie section. "Mother, what are we doing?" I asked when we were out of earshot of the salesclerk. "Just go with me on this, Sam. Now relax. I know what I am doing. In the lingerie section, Mother quickly found a slip that she thought would be the right length by holding it in front of me. Then she started looking through the bras. "Come on Mother, I don't have anything to put into one of those." "You won't need a lot if I can find the right one," she said. "This should be perfect. This one is a lightly padded training bra." She held it up and it looked to be about the size of some of the more mature girls in my class. "A girl your age does not have much of a breast but there should be a little something there. This should work nicely. all we need now is a nice pair of panties." We returned to the dressing room area and Mother lead me in. She closed the door and had me remove all my clothes. First, she had me step into the panties... They felt oh so different from my old Jockey shorts and they were covered in lace. Mother held the bra while I slid my arms into it and she fastened it in the back. "That's a good fit," she said. She showed me how to pull up on what flesh I had while leaning forward. At least the bra cup had some of me in it. It was a strange feeling but not one that I disliked. She then helped me pull the slip over my hear. It felt so cool to my skin and I felt little shivers run up my spine. The sales lady had to bring us two other sizes in the dress before we found just the exact fit that mother was looking for. Mother led me out of the dressing room and stood me in front of the multiple mirrors. I could see myself from all sides and the image of that pretty girl was burned into my brain forever. I loved what I saw. I tingled all over and I secretly hoped that I would never have to take that dress off. The boys at school were right... I am a sissy and I didn't care. This felt so good, so right, so exhilarating. "Can I wear this home?" I whispered to my mother. "Yes, by all means but not with those dirty sneakers." She turned to the salesperson and asked, "Do you have a shoe department?" "Yes we do. Right around that corner in the back." Mother paid for all the new things and had the salesperson put my old clothes in a bag. I followed her to the shoe department barefooted. We found a pretty pair of blue flats with a little strap that buckled across my instep. We also bought a matching handbag. I was intrigued with the high heels but Mother said that I was not ready for those yet. In a few years I would be old enough for heels but she didn't want me to try and grow up too fast. I liked the sound of that. Evidently she was planning to allow me to experiment with girl clothes for a long time. As we walked through the mall, I couldn't resist looking at my reflection in every store window we passed. The small protrusions on my chest created by the padded bra were small but they really added a lot to my shape. The feel of the skirt against my legs as I walked was awesome. Now that I had experienced it, I knew I could not live without it. I was the best dressed girl in the mall and I noticed several boys looking at me. They had never looked at me that way before when they were calling me sissy. I didn't feel like a sissy now... I felt like a girl. Can girls be sissies or are all girls sissies? Who knows and who cares... I liked what I saw and I liked what I felt. Being a girl was so much nicer than being a boy. We passed a jewelry store that had a banner outside that advertised free ear piercing with the purchase of a pair of earrings. The thought had not even entered my mind but Mother stopped and turned to me with that special look in her eye. "How about it?" "Does it hurt?" I asked. "Nay. Well, maybe a little. Somewhat like a bee sting." "It is kind of permanent isn't it?" "Well, sort of but I have heard of the holes growing together if you don't wear earrings for a long time." "Let's do it." I was becoming so bewitched with all this girl stuff, I was ready to throw cation to the wind. We went inside. Mother explained that we were there to have her daughter's ears pierced. Funny how I was getting used to her referring to me as her daughter. The girl showed us their selection of studs and I was asked to select one. I chose the pearls. As the girl was marking my ears she told me what a pretty dress I was wearing and how much she liked my hair. Girl talk I presumed... I would have to learn to do that. She put the studs in a little handheld machine. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. I felt the machine touch my ear and then a sharp pain. Even the pain felt good... That was a feminine mark that would stay with me forever. She quickly did the left ear. I was complete. Surely this was a sign that Mother was planning for me to dress as a girl for a long time... Oh how I hoped so. The girl in the jewelry store explained that I should keep the pearl studs in for three weeks and she showed me how to turn them occasionally while my ears healed. Surely, when we left home that morning, Mother must have had some question in her own mind as to how I would react to her attempts to feminize me. Having my ears pierced now, surely must have quashed any doubts she might have had. When we left the jewelry story I could tell that Mother was as excited as I was. "We've got so much shopping to do," she said. "You are going to need an complete new wardrobe before we leave on our beach trip." "Mother, you have already spent so much on my hair, dress, shoes and ears," I said. "You can not afford to buy me an entire female wardrobe." "Yes I can." I could hear the excitement in her voice. "I didn't tell you this before because I wanted to find out exactly how you would react to all this feminine treatment. I didn't want to try and force my wishes on you. It is plain to me now that you love the idea of being a girl and I don't have the words to tell you just how pleased I am. This is something I've wanted for you since that first boy called you a sissy at school. I think God made a mistake, Sam. You should have been a girl all along. And now, we have the money. Do you remember last month when I had to go to court?" "Yes, but I thought that had something to do with your work at the hospital." "I didn't want to say anything until I was sure but now I'm sure. Your father walked out on us when you were a baby. He was ordered at the time to pay child support which he did for only a very short time. Last month the judge ordered him to pay all the money he owes us or go to jail. He owes us over $15,000 and I received the first check last week for $5,000. We will have it all by the end of next year. It is money that I am required to use for your benefit and if you will let me I am going to spend it to correct nature's mistake. My desire is for you to have a life that will make you happy. It is not always going to be easy for either of us but if it is what you want, I will make it happen." She reached out and held me by the shoulders. "This is the most important question you will ever have to answer and if we start this, there will be no turning back. Sam, would you like to become a girl? Not just for today or this summer or the rest of the year... but for always." "Yes, yes, yes!" I didn't take time to think about my answer. I didn't attempt to evaluate the problems that lay ahead. I simply answered with my heart. We both had tears streaming down our cheeks. We put our arms around each other and embraced for a long time. When we returned home that evening, we were both extremely tired. We had "shopped until we dropped". The trunk of the car was filled with pretty new clothes and Mother said that we would need at least one more serious shopping day before our beach vacation. I lost count of how much money we had spent but it was a lot. We bought night gowns, shoes, several skirts and dresses, all types of lingerie, shorts, blouses and tops and three cute bathing suits. On the way home we stopped at a nice restaurant for dinner. We were both too excited to eat much so we ordered salads. Before our meal came, Mother handed me a little purple pill shaped like a football. "What's that," I asked. "Estrogen. You need to start taking one of these each day." "Why?" I said, as I put the pill in my mouth and then washed it down with water. I had no question about whether or not to I should take the pill, only a curiosity as to what its effect might be. "It will help keep puberty away and allow you to develop in a more feminine way." "You said that you would explain all that stuff you and Josh were talking about. I know a little about puberty but most of what Josh was saying was over my head. What is this castration thing and why is Josh's hair falling out?" It took some time but she explained it all to me. She began with male and female hormones, where they come from and how they affect the body. She explained the changes that take place in a girl's body during puberty and also what a young boy could expect during that period. The part about the deep voice and the hard hairy body of the boys seemed rather frightening to me. As scary as the menstrual cycle in girls seemed, I was certain that bleeding once a month would not be as bad as having hair grow on my face. "Mother, I said. "I know that I have had only one day of looking and feeling like a girl but if I never put on another dress and even if I get a boy haircut tomorrow, I do not want those things to happen to my body. I would rather always be a sissy boy than to have hair growing all over my face and body. I don't want my voice to change and I don't care for big muscles. Can anything be done to stop it?" "There are several things that can be done," she said. "These estrogen pills will help. When we return from our vacation, I will make you an appointment with Dr. Joyner and we will see what he recommends." "You plan to tell a doctor about what we did today?" "I already have dear. Where do you think I got these pills." "I'm not sure that was a good idea, Mother. First thing you know, word will be all over town about me dressing as a girl." "Dr. Joyner is a good friend of mine," she answered. "Doctors know how to keep their mouths shut. They have to." She reached across the table and took my hand. "Trust me, Dear. I had a long talk with him last week about what I thought your situation was. I didn't say anything to you because I wanted to see how you would react to everything we did today." "You mean all this didn't just happen? You planned this?" I gestured toward my new dress with my hands. "Yes... You could have stopped me any time. I thought you would enjoy being a girl but I had to be sure. Now I am... I think. Am I wrong?" "No, I guess not but it has been only one day." "I know that," she said. "For the next three weeks you will be my daughter. You may decide then that you hate the entire idea and that will be the end of that. Dr. Joyner's suggestion was for you to spend some time as a girl and if after vacation you found that femininity agreed with you, we should come see him and he will do what he can to make you more comfortable as a girl." "Can we trust him and what about these estrogen pills?" I asked. "Yes we can trust him and if you decide that being a boy is best, we will simply throw these pills away. Puberty will begin in a year or so and no one will ever have to know of this little experiment." Sounded good to me. That night I slept in a beautiful, silky gown for the first time ever. It felt so good and excited me so that I had trouble getting to sleep. I got out of bed three times just to look at myself in the mirror. The next morning, Mother had to come to my room to awaken me. "Time to get up sleepy head," she said as she gently shook my shoulder. "We've got a busy day ahead." As I rubbed the sleep from my eye, I thought yesterday had been but just a dream. Then I felt the silky gown caressing my warm skin and saw the lace around the hem lying across my thighs and suddenly realized that it had all been true. I was immediately wide awake and looking forward to another adventure in this new feminine world. Mother had laid out my clothing for our day of shopping. My little bra, my own panties, a brand new slip and the yellow shirt-waist dress were all neatly arranged on the chair by my bed. She explained that she had chosen the shirt-waist dress because it buttoned down the front and it would be easy to get in and out of as I tried on new outfits. I was eager to get dressed but Mother insisted that I shower first and brush my hair. I found the shower to be somewhat depressing. Being totally naked and seeing the male thing attached to my body was a reminder that this was all just make-believe. I was a boy and nothing could change that. As I continued my shower, I refused to look down again. I did not want any further reminders of my maleness but it would not go away just because I refused to look and I knew it. Once I was completely dressed and had my hair was combed and neatly in place the despair of being reminded of my maleness seemed to subside considerably. After breakfast and my little estrogen pill, Mother gave me a treat that even further removed that vision of my penis from my mind. She suggested that a little make-up might be in order.... Not much but just enough to add a little color to my face. Mother said that she did not like to see girls my age wear lots of make-up but a small amount, skillfully applied, could really add a healthy glow. All I ended up with was a very little shadow to my eye lids, some blush to my cheeks and a light pink glow on my lips. She did promise that while we were at the beach she would teach me about all types of make-up and how to use them. When I was old enough, she wanted me to be skillful in their use. She said that there were so many things about being a girl that she was looking forward to teaching me. I was an eager student. As we prepared to leave for our shopping trip, for some unexplainable reason, I froze at the front door. I was suddenly gripped with fear. The thought of going outside dressed this way paralyzed me. Mother turned to me in surprise. "What's the matter Samantha? You look like you just saw a ghost." "It is daylight, Mother. The neighbors will see me." I had not until this very moment considered that people who knew me just might see me dressed as a girl. Suddenly I felt ashamed and embarrassed. "There is no on out here, Dear," she said. "We will go directly to the car and we will be gone before anyone notices us." "Someone could be looking out a window." "So what if they are. You look lovely and I would be proud to show you off as my new daughter." "That's easy for you to say. What if my friends hear of this. School would be impossible." "Look Samantha," she said. "If this works out and you decide to be a girl after vacation we are going to find you a new school anyway. Don't worry what others think. Be true to yourself." "You go first and call me when the coast is clear," I argued. She did. When she reached the car she opened the door for me and looked up and down our street motioning for me to come on out. I walked out onto our porch and closed the door. It locked behind me and Mother had the key. There was no turning back now so I started for the car. Just as I reached the bottom step, Mrs. Nichols walked out of her house. She saw Mother and started walking towards our car. I was trapped. I just stood there, frozen ten feet from Mother and the safety of our car. I could feel my skin turning red from my toes to the top of my head. Mrs. Nichols looked directly at me for a long moment. "Hi, Sammy. You certainly do look nice today." She turned to my mother with a puzzled look on her face. "Susan, why is Sammy dressed that way?" she asked. "It is a long story, Mrs. Nichols," Mother said as she took my hand and guided me into the car and closed the door. "Doctor's orders," I heard her say. "The doctor has discovered that Sam's male sex organs just might be secondary. There is a chance that Sam could have the internal organs of a female. We won't know for sure until after all the test results are in but the doctor wanted Sam to dress this way for a couple of weeks. He is pretty sure that Sam is physically more female than male. He wants to see how Sam reacts to dressing as a girl before any decision on surgery is reached. This is a difficult time for Sam and I hope you realize how embarrassed he must be. I hope you will not discuss this with the neighborhood until we are sure." "Oh, you can trust me honey," said Mrs. Nichols as she stole another look at me through the car window. "I've heard of cases like this. I told Mr. Nichols just last week that Sammy was so pretty that he should have been a girl." She motioned for me to roll down the window. I did. "Sammy, don't you worry about this one little bit. You make such a pretty little girl," she said. "If that doctor finds that you are a girl on the inside, it would be a blessing. Believe me honey... girls are nice. Your mother and I will help you learn everything you will ever need to know." "Yes Ma'am," was all I could think to say. I sure was glad that Mother was a quick thinker and such a good liar. We finally got away from Mrs. Nichols and Mother backed the car out of the driveway. Not a word was spoken during the drive to Hillcrest. Even after Mother parked in the mall parking lot we both sat is silence for some time. Finally, Mother looked at me and said, "Well, the cat is out of the bag now." "That was a pretty good story you told her," I said. "How did you manage to think of all that?" "We had a case similar to that in the hospital several years ago. It was a baby and the proper sex was discovered shortly after birth. There are people who have the sexual characteristics of both sexes called hermaphrodites. I just added a little to what I knew about that case." I started laughing uncontrollably. I don't know why. The entire situation was anything but funny but I couldn't stop laughing. Soon Mother began to laugh with me. Between efforts to get my breath, I managed to say, "You know she will not be able to keep her mouth shut, don't you." "She is probably on the phone right now," Mother said as she laughed. "I don't know why I'm laughing," I said. "I'm ruined!" "Maybe not... Now you will be able to wear your new bathing suit in the back yard. You can get a tan for the beach and I can sell tickets to pay for our trip." We were still laughing as we entered the mall. Somehow a certain amount of tension had been released. Sure, the experience of being caught by Mrs. Nichols was devastating and embarrassing but in another way it was to a degree liberating. The worst part for a boy who wears dresses is being caught. That had already happened to me and it was not all that bad. After all, Mrs. Nichols had told me how pretty I looked and had offered to help teach me girl things. Surely it would not be this easy with everyone but at least now I knew I could face it and survive. Plus now, because of Mothers quick wit, we did have a pretty good story. The shopping trip was super. We bought so many pretty things. The more feminine something looked on me the more Mother insisted that we get it. I was the one who finally brought her back down to earth. I told her that the girls I knew did not always wear frilly dresses and silk blouses. She agreed that I was correct. So off we went, now in search of jeans, cotton sleeveless blouses, tank tops and short shorts. The car trunk was full when we finally headed for home. The next day, it became pretty evident that Mrs. Nichols had not been able to control her need to gossip. Mother got three calls from friends asking about my condition and wishing us the best. By the time Mother told her little story the third time, it had grown into a fairly believable scenario. One lady said that she had suspicioned my condition for some time. Another was shocked that the doctor was waiting so long to operate. She thought that I should be made into a complete female person as soon as possible so that I would not have to suffer so much. Miss Jones from church said, "Poppycock! These young doctors know nothing. You leave that boy alone." The fourth call was for me and I must admit that particular one did rattle me somewhat more than the others. I didn't have many male friends but there was this one boy, David Long, who lived a block from my house. David and I had pretty much grown up together and I had always been able to depend on him as a friend. He never took part in any teasing and we had spent a great deal of time together. Well, David had heard the rumors about my "medical condition" so he called. Mother answered and handed the phone to me. "Sammy, I heard that some doctor was going to operate on you," he began in a very excited state. "Mother heard that there was something wrong with your sex or that you were the wrong sex or something like that." I knew right away that this was going to be a difficult conversation. One that I would rather not have. I decided to go with the story I had heard Mother use with the other calls. "We're not sure yet, David. All of the test will not be in for another couple of weeks." "But man... I heard that they were making you wear dresses. Man... I know that isn't so." "Sometimes... err.. well... yes, I am having to wear girl's clothing... but just until we get the test results back. They will probably show that it was all a big mistake." I repeated the story as I had heard my Mother tell it to the other callers. I must have done a pretty good job because David seemed to be hanging on every word. When I finished he said, "Man... that's awful. Are you wearing a dress right now?" "Yes, I'm afraid I am." "Man... I couldn't do that. Can I come over and see. I'll bet you look foxy." "No!" I said. "I don't want anyone to see me right now. I would be too embarrassed and you would tell everyone that you saw me in a dress." "I promise I won't laugh," he said. "Everyone already knows anyway and Mrs. Nichols said that you really looked great." Well, to make a long story short, I finally told him that he could come over for five minutes. I added that if he laughed, I would punch his lights out. When he arrived, Mother and I met him in the living room. He just stood and stared for a long time. Then he made some remark about me not looking like I could punch anyone's lights out. "I believe the doctor is right, Sammy. You sure do look more like a girl than you ever did look like a boy." And, I'll never forget... He didn't laugh. He asked what seemed like a thousand questions. Mother answered most of them because she could see how nervous I was. He must have stayed about twenty minutes and I will never forget what he said to me as he was leaving. "Sam, don't let this thing worry you too much. If the doctor makes you stay this way, it won't be so bad. You really do make a foxy chick." By the end of the next day, the curiosity of our neighborhood was getting to us. The phone was ringing constantly and neighbors were dropping by for any and every reason they could think of, hoping to get a look at me. We finally decided to leave for the beach a few days early. Mother called the hospital and told them she was going to take some sick days. We just loaded the car and left. It was such a relief to finally drive away from that side show where I was the main attraction. Whiling packing, I discovered another big difference between boys and girls... It was so much harder to pack as a girl than it had been as a boy. I needed so many more things and I had to be constantly aware of packing things that would match. If I packed a short skirt I had to make sure I packed a short slip and then there were the shoes. You could have the prettiest dress in the world but if you didn't have the proper shoes, you just couldn't wear it. Mother helped and I learned a lot. Oh, by-the-way, I didn't pack any of my boy clothes... Didn't have room. I wanted to wear my blue dress for the trip but Mother convinced that I would just get it wrinkled sitting in the car for such a long trip. After all, it was about a seven or eight hour trip. I finally decided on my white shorts with a blue sleeveless blouse and my white sandals. Mother tied a blue ribbon in my hair. It matched my blouse and pulled my hair back just enough to show off my pierced ears. After seeing myself in the full length mirror, I felt confident, relaxed and eager to spend some time as Samantha. We had to spend Thursday and Friday nights in a motel because our cottage wouldn't be ready until late Saturday. I was taking a shower on Friday when I noticed something strange. The water from the shower hitting my chest was uncomfortable. My chest felt bruised. I looked down and noticed that my nipples seemed swollen and somewhat red. I felt with my hand and there seemed to be a small amount of swelling behind the nipples. Later I told Mother about the funny feelings in my chest. She wanted to see. She felt all around my nipples and smiled. "It's working," she said. "What's working?" "The hormone pills, Silly. You are beginning to develop breast." I simply looked at her with an awed look. How could this be? "The doctor said that this could happen quickly," she said, "looks like maybe he was right." "What do you mean," I finally managed to ask. "You are at a ripe age for puberty to begin. Do you remember when I told you about testosterone, the male hormone?" I answered, "yes." "Well, if your testicles had started producing that right away, we were afraid it would start some changes in your development that would be irreversible. The doctor thought that maybe if we started you on some fairly strong doses of the female hormones that we could force puberty to begin early. As a girl rather than as a boy. Hopefully, now, with the female hormones working on your development, the release of testosterone will be delayed of at least maybe overpowered." "This is scary, Mother. What if I start developing both ways at the same time? What if I grow breast and then have to go back to school as a boy? And, what kind of girl can I be with breasts and a penis? These pills aren't going to make my penis fall off are they?" "Sam, I know you have a thousand questions." She put her arm around me. "The doctor knows what he is doing... He has done this for other young boys. Nothing drastic is going to happen before we see him in two weeks. It takes a long time for a body to develop, whether male of female. Right now I just want you to relax and enjoy these next two weeks as a girl. Decide if you like it. You've had twelve years as a boy so you already know about that. When we see Dr. Joyner, he will ask you to make some decisions at that time. Do we continue along the female path of return to the male path. The final decision will be yours. The one that will make you happy. Very few young people ever have the opportunity to choose... You do." I tried to put it all out of my mind for now. I would just have to put my trust in Mother and Dr. Joyner. However, that night I did have some awful dreams. I dreamed that I awoke one morning and I had huge breasts and a penis that reached to my knees. All my school mates were standing around my bed laughing at me and my breast were so heavy I couldn't raise myself up. I didn't have any more scary dreams after that night but I did have some pretty strange ones. We moved into the beach cottage on Saturday and both began to enjoy the sand and water. Mother spent a considerable amount of time teaching me girl things... How to sit, walk, talk, dress, eat and so on. There was a lot to learn but she did it gradually, often by simply correcting me when she saw something she didn't approve of. She taught me how to file and shape my fingernails. I now kept them neatly polished with a matching color on my toenails. I also received lessons in how pluck my eyebrows and create a nice even arch on both sides. The more I learned, the more comfortable I became in my new feminine role. We spent a lot of time on the beach. I was getting tan lines that made me look feminine even with my clothes off. All of my bathing suits had little skirts at the bottom so that there would be no chance that a masculine bulge would show. I had learned to tuck it under in such a way that made it almost impossible to detect anyway. The new sensitivity in my breast made my bras and the padding in my swim suits feel very different. I must admit, I liked the feeling. One day I was sunning myself on the beach alone. Mother had gone to the grocery store. I had noticed a group of young people down the beach but paid little attention to them. I was on my stomach when I noticed two bare feet standing next to my blanket. It startled me at first and I sat up quickly. There stood a boy who appeared to be a year or so older than I. "Hi. My name is John Benton," He said. "Hello, I'm Samantha," I answered. "We are getting a group of kids together for a volleyball game. Would you like to play? We really need one more to make the sides even." "I don't know," I answered. "I'm not very good." "That's okay. We just play for fun." I decided to give it a try. I had a ribbon on my blanket so I tied my hair back into a ponytail before I stood up. This would give me a chance to use some of the lesson Mother had taught me. There were six boys and I made the sixth girl. John introduced me to the others and I tried hard to remember everyone's name. John was to be the captain of one team and a boy named Bill Andrews was the captain of the other. They each had a turn in choosing other players for their team. As a boy in school, I was always the last one chosen. Today, John chose me first for his team... A new experience for me. The game was fun and we all laughed a lot. It was not at all like it was when I played games in school as a boy. No one made fun of the mistakes I made. I heard things like, "Tough luck, Samantha" and "Good try, girl". Without the pressures I had always felt as a boy, I surprised myself and started playing pretty well. It was the most fun I had ever had playing a sport. And, our team won! When it was over, we were all congratulating each other and John came up to me and gave me a big hug. Boy, that really felt strange. He asked me if I would like to play again tomorrow and I said that I would love to. John offered to walk me back to my blanket and I didn't object. He turned to me and said, "Sam." He had started calling me that during the game. "There is a good movie at the beach cinema tonight. Would you like to go?" I couldn't believe my ears. He was asking me for a date and I had never even considered that possibility. I knew it would be dishonest for me to accept his offer. He wanted to take a girl. What if he found out that I was an imposter. I should give an excuse and say no but the day had been so much fun, I simply couldn't resist.... I said yes! "Great!" he said. "I'll pick you up at seven. Which is your cottage?" I pointed out our cottage and he said, "Will it be okay if we walk? It is not far." Mother had returned from the grocery store and had seen me playing volleyball with the others. She was waiting for me on the porch when I returned. "Did you have fun with the others." "Oh yes, Mother. It was the most fun I've had in a long time." "Who was the boy who walked you back?" she asked. "His name is John Benton and he asked me to go to the movies with him tonight." "What was your answer?" "I said yes. Did I do wrong, Mother?" "That's wonderful. This will be your first date." She was more excited than I was. "We've got a lot to do to get you ready. I want everything to be perfect." "We're just going to the movies, Mother." "It is still your first date and it must be perfect. You go take your shower and wash that hair. We are going to make you beautiful. John Boy is going to be the luckiest boy on this beach tonight." After I finished bathing and washing my hair, Mother called for me to come into her room. I put on panties, bra and a robe before I entered her room She said that she wanted to roll my hair the way Josh had shown us. The dresser was covered with all sizes of hair rollers so I sat in the chair facing the mirror. She wanted me to watch closely so that I could learn to do this myself. As she worked, we talked about the volleyball game and I told her how much fun it had been. I was still excited about how my new friends seemed to be so much more pleasant and fun to be with than my school friends were. "Maybe it is you, Dear," she said, "could it be that you are more comfortable with yourself now and your friends sense that. Also, possibly there were things expected of you as a boy that you just couldn't deliver." After about thirty minutes she had completely rolled my hair and it was a moving sight to see myself with my hair completely in curlers. It all felt so completely feminine. She got out her portable hair dryer and slipped the hood over my head. "While you are drying, I want to redo those nails." Some time later, she took the dryer off my head and began to remove the curlers. My hair looked like little springs and I was not at all sure I was going to like the results. Then she did some magic with the brush and the effects were breathtaking. I looked like a different person. My face was framed by a heavenly mass of curls and waves cascading down to my shoulders. I looked five years older. Mother noticed that also and decided that it was time for us to have a little mother/daughter talk about boys. We did and I blushed often. She explained exactly what it was that boys wanted and she made it clear how nice girls should act. She taught me things about boys that I didn't even know myself and I once was one... Oh well, I guess I still was one but I had almost forgotten that. She cautioned me not to forget that I was still a boy and how important it was that I keep that bit of reality a secret. A boy could really get angry if he thought I was trying to fool him. She was correct, of course, and the realization of that began to make me a little nervous. We ate a light dinner and it was time to start getting dressed for my "date". I still didn't like the use of that word too much. I preferred to think of this evening as simply going to the movies with a new friend. Mother insisted that I do my make-up myself but she did watch my every move. When she thought I was overdoing it somewhat she would have me tone it down a little. I chose my red sun back dress with the spaghetti straps that tied at my shoulder. It had a full skirt that fell to just above my knees. Because the straps were so tiny, I had to wear my slightly padded strapless bra and a half slip. My shoes were red with low, one inch heels. Mother insisted on putting some money and the cottage telephone number in my purse. "Just in case," she said. John arrived a few minutes before seven. He came in and met Mother and I could tell that she liked him. It only took us about fifteen minutes to walk to the theater. On the way, John told me how pretty I looked and how much he liked what I had done to my hair. I blushed and did manage to say "thanks". I was much more tense than I had thought I would be. We did manage a some small talk but it was obvious that both of us were having trouble finding things to talk about. I was glad when we finally found our seats in the theater and the movie began. No need to worry about conversation again for almost two hours. About half way through the movie, John reached over and took my hand. That startled me. I did not know how to react. My first reaction was to pull it away but I decided that would be rude. However, here I was, a boy holding another boys hand. Somehow, that just didn't seem right but I had to remember that John thought I was a girl and I didn't want to do anything to destroy that image... especially now. Surprisingly, I began to enjoy the feeling. After all, I thought, it was a compliment that he would want to hold my hand. After the movie, John suggested that we go for some ice cream. While there, we ran into several of the kids from afternoon volleyball game. Before long, we were all laughing and talking about all the things people my age talk about. We all decided to meet on the beach tomorrow for another game. My shyness seemed to have dissolved and I noticed that John was relaxing also. It was getting fairly late and John had promised Mother that he would have me home by eleven. He suggested that we walk back to my cottage by way of the beach. That was fun. The beach was pretty at night and there was a beautiful moon in the sky. We both took off our shoes and walked along the edge of the surf. Neither of us was shy now and we had no trouble making conversation. We talked about school, the summer, music, movies and on and on. Before I knew it we were opposite my cottage and it was time to end the evening. John looked at his watch and saw that it was fifteen minutes before eleven. I started to walk toward the cottage and he reached out and took my hand again. "We still have fifteen minutes," he said. "Can't we just stay here on the beach a little longer?" "I guess so......" He gave my hand a little tug and before I knew it, we were standing very close. Before I had a chance to step back, he put his arms around me and pulled me even closer. I looked up, a little startled, and he kissed me. I dropped my shoes in the sand, placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away. He looked down at me with a hurt look on his face. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what came over me. Please don't be mad." Suddenly I felt sorry for him. Had I over-reacted? Boys shouldn't kiss boys but really, right now.... Well only one of us was actually a boy and it wasn't me. Or at least, I surely didn't feel like one. "John, I'm not mad," I said, "you.... Well, you just surprised me." "I shouldn't have done that," he replied as he leaned down to retrieve my shoes. "We have known each other for less than 24 hours and I pull a stupid trick like that." "Don't be so hard on yourself.... It was just a kiss." He held out my shoes and I reached for them. We just stood there, both holding my shoes, looking into each other's eyes. During that moment my mental process obviously shut down because if I had carefully thought about my next move, it surely would not have happened. It was as though I was controlled by a force I had no authority over. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. My shoes again fell to the sand. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me close as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt his tongue on my lips and then it was deep within my mouth. I could feel a tingle in my swollen breast and my somewhat enlarged nipples became hard against the padding of my bra. I don't remember how long it lasted but I did not push him away this time. When it ended, it was my turn to be embarrassed. I leaned down to once more retrieve my shoes. "I had better go in before we completely ruin my shoes," I said. John laughed. "Okay, I don't want your mother getting mad at me." As we walked to the steps leading up to my cottage, he told me how much fun our date had been for him. There was that word again... date. I guess it was official now... I had had a date. At the bottom of my steps, John leaned over to give one last kiss. I was in control now so I placed my hands on his chest and held him at a respectable distance. I allowed him to lightly kiss me once and I quickly turned and started up my steps. "See you at the volleyball game tomorrow,"