A Life Everchanging I
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A Life Ever Changing #43: Dream A Little Dream free porn video
"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me..."
- Gus Kahn, Wilbur Schwandt and Fabian Andree
A Life Ever Changing #43
Dream a Little Dream
By Angel O'Hare
Oh GEEZ! Barbara had a large manila envelope in her hands! She was
smiling ear to ear and giggling as well! I knew what she had and I
didn't like it much! Sylvia had given her some of the pictures! I made
her promise never to show them to anyone. I don't think she meant it! I
saw her keep her fingers crossed as she promised me and we all know
what that means.
We were all very tired now as we drove back to my new home at Aunt
Harriet's. What a day it was, so full of wonderful moments and joyful
reunions. The car stuffed with new clothes and Barbara guarding her
manila envelope filled with pictures of my childhood as Angel.
My thoughts turned to Auntie Helen and I must admit when she had called
me Angel, I felt both love and sorrow. Love for her and the many true
friends I did have back then. I belonged, I felt for the first time in
my young life part of a group. Part of something wonderful and I had
something to offer and give freely of myself. The real funny part of it
all was that my success and all my friendships were as Angel, a ten-
year old girl.
Ricky? Well, Ricky was a loner with few real friends. No friends as a
matter of fact, not one boy my age would ever say they were my friend.
If they did, their friends would turn on them in an instant. I know it
happened a couple of times. One day I had a friend and the next he was
calling me names right along with all the rest of the boys in the
neighborhood. Life can be so cruel, yet turn right around and be as
kind and loving as your mother.
The girls became my friends and so many of their mothers as well. Some
used me and wanted me to be a girl. They did all sorts of things to
trick me into girl's clothes and almost always had me in frilly looking
aprons. I had made very good money mowing lawns and doing chores for
the women of my neighborhood. That is, good money for a nine-year old.
The trouble only started when I started doing chores inside the homes.
That is where all the feminizations took place. (Those memories I might
write about in another book. I will call it "ANGEL"). For now the
present beckons me with all its might!
"I'm sorry, what did you say, Mrs. Nelson?" I was lost in thought.
Rita chuckled "I know that, Rachel, welcome back to earth."
We all laughed at that one and she went on.
"Helen and Sylvia are wonderful ladies, Rachel, and I am so glad we met
them. I can see how much they love you and are part of your family.
Your past was so full of happiness and joy when they were part of your
life. Yes, there were the tough times, but they were there for you and
your mother. Sylvia told me a story about a little boy who decided to
become a little girl for his mother. He made that decision based on the
knowledge that he could help her more by being a girl, and he gave his
mother and little brother all his money without asking for anything in
return."
I cut her off right there!
"I did get a lot of things, Mrs. Nelson. What did I need with all that
money? I got to keep bunches of outfits and I had real friends. I
belonged to a group for the first time and I was a real part in that
group. I was very lucky I got to stay at Auntie Helen's home. I was
protected from all the people who would have hurt me in oh, so many
ways if they saw me walking around dressed as and being a girl. I could
never have done that at my house. I was almost always dressed as Ricky
and I was always a boy at home.
"I was given so much that I had craved and really needed. The funny
thing about all of it was, I had to be a girl to receive it."
I laughed then and I mean I laughed! How ironic that just six years
later here I am dressed and really looking and feeling like a girl once
again. From Ricky to Angel to Ricky to Rich and now I am Rachel!
I have a future, a great job and many new friends thanks to Grace, my
mother and Auntie Harriet. Oh and I can't forget Marjorie! She helped
me back then and now as I look down at my lap, she sure did help me
again! Giggle.
"OUCH! Barb, why did you hit me?"
"Well Rachel, you are laughing and giggling and I don't know why, so
out with it!"
I told them and all of us had a good laugh!
I looked over at Barb and she was still guarding that envelope! She
gave me that warning look. You know the one, the 'don't even think
about it' look!
Oh well, I bet the girls club will be after me next!
Great, Auntie Harriet's and my new home at last!
As we pulled in my mom and Harriet came out to meet us. We hugged and
kissed then, Barb launched into her never-ending stream, trying to tell
them all about it in one breath! GEEZ!
I yelled! "HOLD IT!"
Everyone shut up and looked at me.
"We have a lot of stuff to unload; then and only then we can all have
some coffee, sit down and relax as Barbara tells all!"
"OUCH! Darn it Barb, stop hitting me!"
Everyone started laughing, but not Barbara.
Each of us grabbed an armload and laid everything of mine out in the
living room. Rita and I got the rest and returned only to find that the
others were already in the kitchen! We could hear Barbara chatting away
a mile a minute. We both looked at each other and started laughing.
What the heck, off to the kitchen we went.
Oh GEEZ! Pictures! Those darn pictures were laid out on the kitchen
table. My mom and Harriet had the biggest smiles! Barb was so excited
she was pacing around hopping from one foot to another and talking a
mile a minute trying to catch her breath every once in a while.
Rita and I helped ourselves to a cup of coffee and joined them. They
all were having a great time and I was exhausted. I let them know I was
headed for bed and after the hugs and kisses, off to bed I went.
Oh brother, I forgot. Remove the make-up and do the cleansing thing.
Well, I had to pee anyway. It was then I decided to name my new female
anatomy 'Kitten'. Well, it really isn't a real 'pussy' and I hate that
word anyway, so I thought, yup, a kitten was appropriate. Giggle
I put everything away where it should be; the dirty undies into the 'to
be hand washed' hamper and I hung up the rest of my clothes. I was
exhausted and as soon as I completed what was needed, I fell onto my
bed and fell asleep.
Dreams, the type of dreams are many and a whole science is devoted to
them now. Dreams can be and often are so realistic yet hold their real
meanings in a cryptic symbolism we must interpret somehow and in some
way. Interpretation of anything has its drawbacks. We are forced to
interpret many things in life and many of us wrongly interpret them
over and over again.
Just look at the many different religions! Each has its own
interpretations of the meanings of a book. Then you have the divisions
of those same religions all based on different interpretations of that
same book. Well, not really the same book because there are different
versions of that book as well. Giggle.
Dreams and our interpretations of them are part of life's mysteries.
Complicated is an understatement especially for the trans-gendered! We
actually have two sets of dreams in one. Our true inner selves and our
souls live in our dreams and so does the reality of our shells, our
bodies.
Few of us were blessed with androgynous bodies and fewer still with
truly feminine looks. Most are truly little girls or women inside and
their souls scream out to live as such. Only reality has given them a
hard twist as their shells are total male in all ways. From a prominent
thyroid cartilage (Adam's apple) to thick bones and strong facial
features, hands that can crush a beer can with two fingers and a voice
strong and deep. To these people real life is a nightmare and often
leads them to despair.
I am a very lucky person! Yes, lucky because it takes less effort to
make me look feminine than it does to make me look masculine. Most TG
people do not have it this way. My problem? I was born a boy and
society has left its mark on us all.
Sweet beautiful dreams, one after the other in living color and as
realistic as dreams can be. I am Rachel, pretty and happy. My eyes
sparkle with a power of hidden knowledge and strength. My smile, so
inviting to others, compelling them to come and talk to me and share
their inner beings, knowing I will freely share myself. I am surrounded
by little girls and women all sharing with one another as the dreams
shifts to another view. A view I do not like! I am just seeing the
outside of things, the shells which hold little true meaning, but what
society calls truth of the beholder. Society teaches us that pictures
never lie and what the eyes see is in truth reality.
I know better! Most transgendered people know this as false teaching!
Like the old saying, that is a direct opposite of what society teaches
us 'do not judge a book by its cover'; we know that what is important
and true is what is within us, not what our bodies look like!
My dreams shifted back and forth teaching me and trying to make sense
out of a life so complicated. Our dreams show us much more than we ever
give them credit for. To many of us wake up and in an instant our
dreams are forgotten. I learned! I understood and I remembered.
My true self, and the only way my life would match this truth, was as
Rachel, not Rich! Who was I kidding? Yes, the truth has set me free, or
has it?
***
Morning, the sun's rays warm my face and my eyes can sense their
brightness. I wake to find Auntie sitting in a chair next to my bed,
smiling down at me. Her gaze giving off the great love she has for me.
"Good morning, sleepy head. We have a lot to do today so hurry up and
get dressed. Breakfast will be ready soon."
She stood up and bent over giving my cheek a gentle loving kiss and
then she slapped me hard on my bottom! Ouch! I giggled and got up to
begin the morning rituals. A good forty-five minutes later I was in the
kitchen having French toast and coffee. This was orientation day! The
beginning lessons of what I was to become as a direct caregiver.
Grace would be here soon and I would be learning many things quickly.
My Aunt Harriett being the first person I was to provide direct care
to. We were laughing because she was already wearing her Johnny gown
and comfort bra. She had chosen one of the childish patterns of Teddy
Bears for her Johnny. She twirled and modeled it, giggling like a child
which then infected me and we were both giggling like children as Grace
walked in. This set off more giggle fits as Grace helped herself to
some French toast and a cup of black coffee.
Grace, after a bite and a sip of her black coffee, gave us both a look
that made us stop our giggling.
"Today we are going to be very busy and you must be serious about
everything we are going to do. The time is short and soon you will be
taking care of two very difficult children in adult bodies. Harriett,
you must act as I am going to instruct you. You will be one of those
difficult children and you must be as realistic as you can manage.
Rachel, at first you will learn the basics of direct care and then you
will have to give this same care to a very reluctant person. It is very
different, providing care to a reluctant and combative person, than for
one willing to receive care. If you do something the wrong way, one of
you can get injured and sometimes both of you. So listen closely and
pay close attention to all the steps you must learn. If you do, you
will succeed and if you don't you are sure to fail."
With that said, and as she finished her light breakfast, we began our
lessons in earnest.
I won't go into the many things one must learn and do well while caring
for others most basic needs. I will only say that even providing this
care for someone not fighting you is a hard and many times a thankless
job. Your only reward is in knowing that you are providing the care
that this person needs and you are giving them your best. For the
reluctant and combative person, providing them this care is exhausting?
LORDY!
This is a whole different scene entirely. The biggest key to providing
quality care to any individual is by knowing that individual. The only
way to do this is by actually caring for them and the time it takes to
get to know them and their reactions to everything. That learning time
must be kept to a minimum or your job will be very hard indeed!
All too soon the days passed and hours and hours of lessons learned. I
was as ready as I would be. My Aunt Harriet held no secrets from me
now. I knew her personality and her body better than my own. Once we
were both over the initial shock of exposure and being touched, washed
and even the embarrassing treatments such as douches, enemas,
suppositories, shaving and many other intimate procedures, we
progressed very rapidly. Yes, I too had to be the recipient of direct
care. Grace said it was better for me to understand what it was like
being on the receiving end as well as the providing end. She was right!
It did give me a better understanding of the reactions a person
receiving this care would have.
The hardest part of my learning was when Harriett was combative! Try
changing a wet and soiled adult when they are fighting you! You can't.
You must use your knowledge of them and get them to be calm and
compliant. No easy task, let me tell you. It is hard to complete any
task with a combative person. I was to be taking care of two combative
children trapped in adult bodies.
***
It was time; I was off to Betty's and my first day of actual care
giving. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I was feeling
ill, I was so scared! The night before I set out to be well prepared,
my father's saying repeating itself in my head, "Prior Proper Planning
Prevents Piss Poor Performance." I prepared the best I could.
I was dressed in Betty's favorite outfit. The one she had given to me
as a present. It fit very well indeed and I no longer needed those
special panties. A minimum of make-up and my hair pulled back in a high
ponytail held tight to my head with a light blue scrunchie. I looked in
my mirror and smiled, Rachel you are a pretty one! I giggled, grabbed
my purse and walked down the stairs.
At Grace's suggestion, I wore stud earrings and no necklace. Combative
people tended to grab onto things dangling, so I did not want to offer
any hand holds to these two combative children in adult bodies. Grace
was already here and Harriett looked as nervous as I was. My mother
surprised us as she walked in, giving me a hug and a kiss, she offered
me encouragement and gave me her love. I was as ready as I would be and
after a very light breakfast of toast and coffee, Betty's driver and
car pulled in.
It was a big black Lincoln Continental with the suicide doors! I heard
about these doors and only the Lincoln Continentals had them. The back
seat doors had the handles next to the front doors. When you opened
them, the doors swung open the opposite way of any other car. Entering
one of these wearing a regular dress or skirt was difficult without
showing something you shouldn't. There was a trick to it. Trying this
with a short dress was next to impossible! Exiting these cars was a
breeze.
The driver came to the door and introduced himself as Harry. Thankfully
Grace was coming with me my first week. We both entered the car and
Grace showed me how to enter this type of car wearing a dress. I
giggled because you still ended up showing a lot of leg. One hand held
either the driver's hand or the door's handhold on the inside as your
other hand swept under your bottom holding your dress close to your
legs as you sat down and withdrew your hand. You then swung your legs
inside the car quickly grabbing the part of your dress or skirt hanging
out the door. This is when you showed the most leg and in this car
everybody could see right in. The driver was to stand in a specific
place, to provide you with a shield from view. Only the experienced
drivers knew this, either that or they wanted to let people see the
show!
We were off and Grace filled the time of our drive with last minute
reminders to me. I was thankful for that because I was very, very
nervous. I was confident though, knowing I had been taught by the best
and very thoroughly. Soon enough we arrived, at the gates of the
'Mountain View Estates.' A guardhouse was there and a pretty female
guard dressed in a very smart uniform approached us. A big tough
looking male guard was standing in front of the gate. He was big! He
was handsome, but he had the look that you did not want to cross this
man!
The female guard waved to Harry and our window slid down automatically,
I guess controlled by the driver. It opened on Grace's side of the car
and the guard introduced herself as Officer Margaret Maxell. We had to
answer a few questions which she wrote down on a form attached to a
clipboard. We also had to provide her with a picture of me which Grace
had with her. I was to be given an ID card on my next pass through.
Margaret then waved to the male guard and he opened the gates.
We drove through and passed several huge homes and a few you only saw a
gate and driveway. It took us another five minutes to get to Betty's
estate. When we pulled up to set of beautiful carved solid wooden gates
Harry stopped and pressed a button in a box attached to his sun visor.
The gates slid open slowly and I entered a different world.
Haven
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