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They wouldn't listen to the truth by Elaine © 2010 I took the idea of this story from one I read and liked a long time ago. I modified it and changed it a good bit with much more dialogue and a better ending. Chapter 1 - getting caught When I was five years old I remember taking my mother's wedding dress out of the cupboard it was stored in and trying it on for some strange reason. I found it very exciting to wear it. I loved the feel of the fine silk material on my skin and from then on I would try it on whenever I could. Of course it was not something that I would talk about but it certainly made me feel good to wear her dress even if it didn't come close to fitting me. Then in my rush to try on the dress one day I ripped the zip in the back of the dress with my foot and reluctantly put it back in its place wondering what would happen to me if my mother would ever discover the damage to her special dress. A dress she had worn with such grace at her wedding. I vowed not to try on the wedding dress again and decided that I would play with her other clothes as my older sister was just seven and those didn't interest me yet. For some reason the idea of wearing female clothing fascinated me from that day onwards. As I got older I would also enjoy wearing my sister's clothes too when she was staying at my grandmother's house over the weekend. Ruth was two years older and my mother was always buying her new dresses and feminine clothes while I'd spend the summer in the same old dirty shorts and T-shirts. Often I'd wear her new dresses in secret before she did. I'd learnt how to put on pantyhose and her sandals before easing her latest party dress onto my smaller frame. Often she would ask me if I had been in her room but I would just deny it and walk off. So long as I wasn't caught actually wearing her clothes there was nothing to worry about. So often I would just wait until my parents took my sister to my grandmother's house and I would use the couple of hours while they were away to try on her clothes. I would explore the feel and excitement of wearing her clothes. It would be wrong to say I was exploring my feminine side more enjoying the thrill of it all. It was like I was using this to get a thrill or a kick with the prospect of getting caught or rather not getting caught. I remember the weekend when they took Ruth to stay with my Grandmother as usual and I waited anxiously until they drove away down the road before rushing to Ruth's room to try on the wonderful dresses and skirts in her wardrobe. I didn't see the harm as my tom boy sister Ruth would rarely wear them. Within 10 minutes I would go back to my room with my long hair brushed out while wearing her pantyhose, panties, shoes and her latest dress. I'd do my homework while dressed up like this but often it was difficult to concentrate. It was dressing like this that I discovered the joy of masturbation. I didn't see any harm in what I was doing. It was my own private hobby or interest and I took great care not to be discovered in Ruth's clothes. Often she would ask what I was doing in her room and I would just say that I had been looking for an eraser to rub out some mistakes in my homework assignment or something similar. Of course if I was discovered my family would certainly be very unhappy at my proclivity and I doubted that they would be too amused with perhaps the possible exception of my sister. So I was just very careful making sure that nothing wrong happened until that weekend when I'd just turned 13 that it did. I remember that Friday night like it was yesterday and had been excited when I got home from school to learn that my parents were taking Ruth shopping and then onto stay with my grandmother for the weekend as often happened. Ruth was a young woman now and had an array of lingerie and sexy clothes that I had yet to try on. This was going to be an excellent chance to try on her newest bra and panties, 10 denier pantyhose and a tight skirt. She'd also been given a pair of black shoes that had a small heel that I knew would fit but I'd yet to wear. So after I had waved them off with my parents warning me to be good, I happily walked into Ruth's bedroom knowing Mum and Dad would be gone for at least three or four hours. So I back combed my longish hair, applied mascara and lip gloss and put on the clothes I wanted before finally slipping on the tight shoes. Satisfied with my look, I walked into my bedroom and started my latest homework project. I sat at my desk and relished the feel of the pantyhose rubbing together on my legs and the feel of her dress. I became so engrossed in the project I was doing that the first I knew that my parents were back home was the sound of the door closing downstairs and a shout upstairs by my Dad to me to ask if I was all right. "Shit!" I said out loud to myself and then down to them. "Yes I'm fine. You weren't away long!" I was by my room door shaking visibly while trying to get out of the incriminating clothes as fast as possible. "We bought you something," shouted my father "Come and get it!" Since I didn't make a move downstairs as he expected, he eagerly started to come up the stairs. I really panicked then and frantically headed for my bedroom wardrobe. I hid inside just as he walked into my bedroom. I had the pantyhose down to my knees and had smeared the lipstick and mascara but was wearing everything else much as you would expect. "I see you hiding in there," he said smiling as he opened the door. I didn't reply. How could I as he stared at me in disbelief and holding the new football he'd bought me so loosely it fell to the floor. "What are you doing dressed up like that?" He asked and almost immediately summoned my mother. "Rose you better come up and see what Ricky has been up to while we were away!" I was acutely embarrassed as he took my hand and pulled me out of the wardrobe. He told me to sit on the bed and turned just as my mother entered. "It seems our son is a little sissy boy and likes to dress up in Ruth's clothes. Just look at him!" He exclaimed angrily. "Dear God!" She exclaimed. "Ruth has been complaining that her stuff was being disturbed so this has been going on for a long time. Hasn't it?" "Yes Mum," I replied sheepishly. I suddenly felt very stupid and upset with tears rolling down my cheeks knowing that they were very angry and upset with me. I had expected nothing else. "Why?" She asked. My father stood by the door listening as I began. "I don't know why. I just liked wearing Ruth's clothes," I said lamely and hoping that expressing it in the past tense would mean that it wouldn't happen again. "Well it's a quite disgusting thing to do!" she shouted. "Do you think boys should wear their sister's clothes?" "No Mum," I replied honestly. "Then why do it then?" she asked again. I stammered and tried to find the words but they wouldn't form but managed to say. "I'm really sorry Mum. I know it was wrong and I wont do it again." I was let off with a stern warning and told to stay out of my Sister's bedroom. When Ruth came back from staying at my grandmother's the next day she was told about what they had found. She found it amusing that I was into dressing in her clothes but threatened that I had better stay out of her room from now on. "I didn't imagine I had a sissy for a brother," she sneered when we ate supper that night. "A brother that puts on dresses and make-up. That must have been a pretty sight. I'm sorry I missed that." I tried to ignore her but she would always call me "sissy" or "sissy boy" openly when she talked to me from then on. I complained to Mum about it but nothing was done as it was seen as all my own fault. As far as Ruth was concerned I was a sissy and nothing would ever change that. She was just annoyed that she hadn't actually seen me like our parents. "That would have been something to see," she continually teased. "Seeing you in pantyhose and a party dress with your hair in curls. Maybe you can give me a demonstration sometime?" "You know that's not possible," I said referring her to the fact that our parents would take further action if it happened again. Then for a few weeks everything was seemingly back to normal. It seemed as if the episode had been forgotten. However they were also watching me closely so I was careful not to rock the boat and the opportunity to dress again was reduced to zero which frustrated me but helped me stay on the right side of my family. Then one day my sister and I had a blazing argument over her tripping over that football I'd been given. She hurt her wrist and that changed things because to get her revenge when Mum didn't punish me she blatantly lied that I had been in her room again. "I did warn you Ricky!" said my Mum furiously at me when I came in from school. "Why what's wrong?" I asked innocently. I was innocent but obviously she thought differently. "You know what's wrong!" She said unhappily. "Ruth says that you've been in her room again and trying on her clothes again." "That's not true Mum," I protested. "I've never been near her room!" "Well she says differently and since you appear to have ignored the warning I gave you, we will have to take things further. I've already spoken to your Dad about this and he agrees you should get help so that it will teach you to stop this behaviour. If we don't then who knows where you will end up." "Mum I never.... " I tried to protest but she wasn't listening. "Go to your room, we'll wait for your Dad to come home!" Later my father stood in my room and asked my Mum what she had in mind and then added. "Will you promise never to wear Ruth's clothes again?" He asked me angrily. "And to stay out of her room?" Before I could reply my mother interrupted, "I think promises are wasted on him. He's already broken his promise and perhaps shaming him might stop him doing it." "What do you have in mind dear?" He asked. "Well I was thinking that we should let him carry on wearing girl's clothes to shame him out of being a little sissy he is. Maybe that way he'll regret ever trying on Ruth's dresses." "That's not a good idea! We want him to stop, not encourage this perversion." he said walking towards the door. "I think this will shame him into stopping. He'll never want to wear a dress again after I've finished with him." Clearly she was still very angry. I couldn't believe what she was proposing. She was going to humiliate me by dressing me up as a girl. On the one hand the prospect interested me and on the other it horrified me. "Mum please, not that. This was only ever something I've done alone in my bedroom. I've never been outside dressed like that. I promise I'll honestly never do this again," I said hoping she would accept. "Ricky I don't believe you will or can keep your promise and you'll revert back to your disgusting habit again the next time you are home alone. So since you love dressing up like a girl so much, I'm going make sure that you will get the opportunity to dress up often. Perhaps that way will you become sick of the humiliation and wont want to wear your sister's clothes again." "Mum please I promise." I was desperately pleading to her better nature if she had one but it was clear to no avail. "No my mind is made up! You'll dress up as a girl all the time you are home from school," she declared which sounded severe. "Since your perversion involves wearing your sister's clothes, we'll go and get you your own small wardrobe of clothes right now!" I felt like saying that she couldn't be serious but it was clear she was definitely most serious. So it was that my Mum and I went shopping for my own girl's clothes later that night. My Dad was unhappy about the idea but reluctantly gave my Mum the money she needed. She bought a couple of complete outfits and a feminine nightdress for me to wear for bedtime. She included a pair of girly jeans that sported pink sparkles on the legs and rear pockets, slip on flat shoes, a few pairs of sheer pantyhose and enough pairs of panties to replace my usual boxer shorts. One outfit consisted of short white socks, Maryjane shoes and a frilly pink party dress. The other was a skirt and blouse with girl's lace up shoes. None of the shoes couldn't be disguised as male as they had quite a high block heel. When we got home I was told to go upstairs and to put on my nightdress for bed. My Mum proceeded to brush out my hair before I went to brush my teeth. She kissed me goodnight and said that from now on I'd be called Rachel instead of Ricky while I was dressed up as a girl. The next day my sister Ruth laughed at me as I walked around in my feminine style jeans and blouse. They seemed the least feminine of all the things Mum had bought but the effect was the same as far as my sister was concerned. "You should have stayed out of my drawers," lied Ruth again who knew that her clothes hadn't been disturbed. "I'm sorry Ruth," I stammered. "But you know I wasn't even near your room. I didn't." "I bet you did," she said. "Well it's payback time and my sissy brother you will pay." "What does that mean?" I asked. "I've never hurt you." "Oh no? What about the snide comments you make about me and my boyfriends, or my latest outfit or shoes or the way you told Mum I'd been smoking? Well as I said it's payback time and I will take great delight in making sure that I get my revenge on you from now on." She wasn't laughing now but she did look smug at my discomfort. "You do look quite cute and very feminine though," she continued. "Perhaps you might make a better sister than an obnoxious brother." "Don't say that please," I pleaded. "Well take a look in the mirror, you are petite like a girl your age and have a slim figure," she said pulling me toward the full length mirror in her room that I had used many times to check my appearance. "See if you had some boobs and had a hair style you would look so much better," she said as she pulled out my T-shirt to create the illusion of breasts. She was already very well endowed and I already knew she wore a 34D bra. "For now though Mum said she wants you to learn how to properly do your nails and hair. She wants you to keep them shaped with polish on them and to learn how to style your hair so that you wont look like a boy in a dress so much." "You are kidding," I asked hoping she was inventing that story. Ruth simply replied by handing me a bottle of her clear nail polish. She then told me to sit while she styled my long hair with a hair-dryer and brush to add some body to it. "That will need to do until we can get it styled properly at Mum's hairdresser," she said. "A pageboy cut would suit you." I groaned. "Mum can we take Ricky to get his hair properly styled?" She shouted downstairs. "It's not Ricky it's Rachel now dear and yes that sounds a good idea. I'll could call Muriel at the salon to see if she has a place free. She will get a big laugh out of this." Despite my protests I reluctantly I went to Muriel's hair salon and got my longish hair styled into a feminine layered page boy cut. It was washed and then she spent an age cutting it so that it hung over my eyes and eyebrows just right. The length was such that I couldn't flip the hair over my ears as I used to do. For good measure she even plucked my eyebrows. As I stood up I wondered how I was going to explain this hairstyle at school. It seemed to me that they were taking this a bit further than just wanting me to dress up only at home. As we walked through the mall my Mum dragged me into a jewellers where she had them pierce my ears twice with gold and a jewelled studs in each earlobe. As we walked out I complained. "Mum I really didn't want to have my ears pierced." However she just scolded me as I tried to touch them on the way to the clothing store. I couldn't believe that my hair and ears had seemingly been feminised against what she had said that I would only be a girl at home. "When they've healed we'll get you some prettier earrings." "But how am I to explain my hair and earrings at school Mum?" I asked trying to shield off the stares I expected from everyone nearby. In fact everyone was smiling at me thinking I was a girl hopefully. I certainly looked like one dressed in my girl jeans and sparkly T shirt. I did feel acutely embarrassed as we walked into the women's side of the clothing store and she started to look at some more clothes for me. Often she would pick something up and hold it up to me to see how it looked. We left with some tight skirts and an angora sweater in the bags I carried. "Mum. You said this was only to be at home!" I repeatedly complained at this additional humiliation she was inflicting. She wasn't listening or pretended not to listen. Ruth laughed, "well you do have to make sure everything fits." Then Ruth saw some of her friends and rushed over to greet them with hugs and air kisses. They were all laughing out loud as they looked over in my direction to further increase my discomfort. When she returned she told me that the girls all thought that I looked cute as a girl and the boys would soon be interested in tormenting me. "No! I don't want any boys to see me like this." I replied horrified at the thought. "They might as we're going to grab something to eat now," said Mum returning with the packages holding my new clothes. "Would a pizza suit you Ruth?" I noticed that my opinion didn't seem to count any longer. Despite my complaints they just didn't listen to me. Ruth agreed and took my hand as we walked towards the pizza shop. It seemed however that people didn't notice anything untoward in me as we walked in together like two sisters. It seemed that people were intent on doing their own thing in the mall. It wasn't till we sat down that I thought I noticed people staring intently at me. This included 4 boys at the next table who I knew from school. Thankfully they didn't make a scene but clearly I was acutely embarrassed. I was glad to get home until my mother and sister spent some time showing me how to put on red lipstick and eye make up they'd bought for me while Ruth shaped my nails and finished her work two coats of clear high gloss polish. "How do I get this stuff off?" I asked as my nails dried. "You could try scraping it off but its better to use nail polish remover," she replied showing me the bottle. "But if you do remove it I'll put red polish on your nails next time or get you fitted for some acrylic nail extensions," she threatened. It seemed that she was really enjoying my discomfort. Then she spent some time coaching me in deportment making me practice walking and moving just like a girl. I had to swing my hips and exaggerate my walk until they were satisfied. I knew how to sit but they had me practice that too. Then when they were satisfied I was paraded in front of my Dad who frowned at first but asked me to walk up and down and do a few twirls. "Very nice," he said unconvincingly. I could tell he wasn't too pleased by this decision to make an example out of me. Clearly he didn't see me as the same son who usually played with him in the yard at football or who would go on bike rides with him in the country. I'd been turned into a sissy wimp and it was clear he didn't want to know that side of me. I went back to my room and suddenly found that all my boy's clothes except for my school uniform were all missing. All my underwear had been replaced by frilly underwear, even my thick ankle socks had been replaced by thin knee highs. When I opened the wardrobe I found I had a growing collection of thin long slacks, short skirts, panty hose and even some bras despite having nothing except cotton wool padding to fill them with. I also had several pairs of shoes including one pair of Mary Jane shoes with a 2" block heel and girl's slip ons. My usual trainers were gone. Later I asked my Mum as I helped in the kitchen, "How long will all this last?" I hoped it would be soon but she replied, "When I say it does. You'll have to prove to me that you wont do this perversion ever again." "How am I do that if you keep me dressed up as a girl?" Instead of answering me she stunned me. "Oh I've decided that we'll consult with a therapist to discuss your gender confusion," she replied. "We will take his advice about when to end it. In the meantime you'll stay in girl's clothes out of school." "But Mum," I replied. "I can't go outside or play with my friends like this." "You should have thought of that before you raided your sister's wardrobe," she said unsympathetically as she cooked dinner. "It's a filthy perversion to wear your sister's clothes and we need to get to the bottom of it." So I had to get used it. By day I wore my school uniform to school and in the evenings and weekends I was expected to wear my new girly clothes. That increasingly included trips outside shopping and trips to my relatives who were shocked to find what had happened. Of course I had to take out an earrings when I went to school but my mother insisted that I put in gold hoops or long dangly earrings when I was in "girl" mode. I wore a baseball cap as often as I could to conceal my growing styled hair while my still polished nails were concealed with grime from my dad's workshop often causing comments from my teachers about hygiene. So I would switch between two completely different styles of dress every day. Mum and Ruth would often drag me out with them and I would often have to rapidly change from my school clothes into a dress and pass muster as a sissy. I was constantly humiliated with this. I had to help with the housework and some of the menial chores such as hanging out the laundry to dry. The biggest loss was that my friendships ended with other boys. Often they would call round and I would have to hide in my room until they left. "He's not feeling well," or "he's busy with homework." My Mum would say as I hid behind a door. When Ruth insist on taking me out dressed in a tight short skirt and my highest heeled shoes, I was always acutely embarrassed while she was clearly enjoying my discomfort. I was always very acutely aware that I was exposed and vulnerable. I also found that female clothing can be quite uncomfortable to wear over long periods. I could feel the bra tightly fastened on my ribs as it expanded and contracted with every breath I took, the tight control girdle I wore constricted my poor genitals while my shoes were tight and awkward to wear. I really found that I really didn't like constantly wearing this feminine clothing apart from the jeans and often would just laze around in my bedroom in my nightdress. Even those sparkly jeans I wore were over tight and restrictive and I had to wear the girdle so they would close. In particular I really hated wearing the shoes instead of my more comfortable trainers. Although my shoes weren't very high heels they made my feet ache and they seemed to deform my painted red toes. I also found that wearing girl's clothes in winter was a drawback as I had less protection against the cold while the tight skirts restricted my movement and made me take small steps to avoid falling over. Life sucked and it was just about to get worse. After a few months of dressing up my Mum as promised took me one weekend to see the therapist she had talked about. But rather than me going dressed as a boy I was dressed up as usual as a girl which in retrospect was not a good idea. So I sat down in front of Doctor Richards with my Mum while he asked me a lot of questions about my dressing. "So you are here dressed as a young girl," he started. "I understand that you like dressing up as a girl and that you do it whenever you can according to your mother." "Yes it's just been the last few months, I've been doing that," I replied honestly and before I could add further qualification why he continued. "I see. And how long have you been wearing female clothes in secret and in the open?" he asked. I replied honestly about that first time when I was around 5 years old causing my mother to open her mouth in shock and with some annoyance. "So what do you get from dressing as a girl?" He asked. After some thought I replied, "I found it exciting and relaxing at the same time. When I started it felt right to me to dress up if I wasn't offending anyone. I still felt it was wrong though and my parents surprised me and caught me dressed in my sister's clothes." "Is this correct?" he asked my Mum. "Yes he was even wearing my lipstick and his sister's mascara," she replied. "It was all perfectly applied and he did his own make-up today" "Yes I see that he is wearing make-up now," he noted getting up and looking directly at my long black fluttering eyelashes. Ruth had insisted that I put some on before leaving. "Would you like to continue to dress as a girl and wear make-up?" he asked me. "No." I said and before I could say why he pounced again. "No? By all accounts you do seem to enjoy it. Even turning up here in girl's clothes so that doesn't really make much sense to me. If you are to have a good life we will need to decide what path you will follow in the near future. If you want to dress as a girl all the time we will need to stop the march of a male puberty soon or if you want to continue as a boy get you to stop this cross dressing habit you clearly enjoy." "But.,,," I tried to add more but Mum interrupted me. "As you can see he presents a very feminine appearance, even his ears are pierced twice in each earlobe." She said but failing to add that she'd been responsible for that. "His eyebrows are plucked and arched so that his face is more feminine in appearance. His father and I take the view that he is suffering from a serious gender confusion and we must do what is right to ensure that it can be treated successfully. Lately he's even been helping me around the house while dressed up as a girl instead of going out to play with his boy friends." I was annoyed at her as she had arranged for my eyebrows to be plucked again by Ruth. As for helping around the house she had been forcing me to do that but she sounded that I actually volunteered to do it. I couldn't understand why she wanted him to think that I wanted this to continue any longer. "Yes so I see," said the doctor. "No normal boy would want that to happen. So my view given his proclivity for all things female that we should put him on some androgen blockers meantime to stop the onset of his male puberty which will be an advantage should he want to remain a girl later. These pills will keep his voice from breaking and will stop the formation of body hair and other masculine traits from developing." "If we decide later that he really wants to be a boy then we can stop the androgen blockers and he will grow up a healthy young man. We will see over the coming months what course to take with him. At the moment it's too early to say," he said writing up the prescription about what the dose should be. "Good we'll get the pills on the way home," Mum said to me. I was shocked as effectively I wouldn't be growing up to be a man taking this stuff and my Mum seemed to want this to happen. This made me feel very scared but with the appointment at an end we walked out to the car. I shuddered and felt a tear fall down my cheek as I got into the passenger side and closed the door. It seemed that he hadn't believed that I didn't want to be this way and it was clear my feminine appearance was completely overruling everything. I knew going out dressed this way was wrong but they hadn't listened to me. Then again my Mum hadn't helped either and I realised that this could get seriously out of hand if nothing was done. Over the next few weeks Mum saw to it that I took my "medicine" morning and night. My father thought it was stuff to turn me into a man and not to keep me as a sissy boy a lot longer. Coupled with this my room was altered as my Mum arranged for it to be redecorated and cleaned. The walls were painted a pale pink colour while Ruth gave me some of her old posters of ponies and pop stars. I was even given her old pink CD player and CD collection to replace my own black and silver CD radio which they decided was to be used in the kitchen. I complained of course but nobody listened to my complaints. Every time I came home something else would be changed in my room. From the bedspreads to the calendar on the wall. It was like they were wanting me to become a girl or maybe there was something I didn't know and they were making it so that I would get anything a normal girl would want. Then Mum decided, after Ruth had shown her, that I should wear breast forms inside my bra so that it would look and feel more realistic instead of the cotton wool padding. I was also encouraged to give them girly style hugs whenever we met up and even my Dad didn't give me his high fives any more. With me behaving and acting as a girl at home so it got to be that I unconsciously started to behave the same way at school too. So I reluctantly took my pills and saw that I was really forgetting what it was like to be a boy. Even my Dad treated me like a girl more and more. I missed all the rough and tumble with my friends and I couldn't really see any easy way to change it. I often thought about running away but dressed as a girl that was easier said than done. This all began to feel unreal when my Dad also started to call me Rachel instead of Ricky while Ruth really made lots of suggestions to my Mum about this and that change so that I would "suffer" even more. After two months we went back to see Doctor Richards and when he saw that I was even more feminine than before with "breasts" after a few blunt questions that Mum answered, he immediately prescribed female hormones for me. I felt sick to the stomach but Mum seemed delighted as we drove home. When we got home she told my Dad that I'd been diagnosed as being a young male to female transsexual and that I should be given the full treatment to transition into the girl I longed to be. I tried to interrupt her but she kept on threatening me to be quiet and so she gave him the news that I was to take female hormones and to live full time as a girl. I walked out of the room with tears in my eyes and that made my carefully applied mascara and eyeliner run down my cheeks so that they thought it was tears of happiness and not tears of sadness or remorse. I was distraught when I went back to my room only to be called down again as my Mum gave me my medicine as prescribed by the therapist. "What will this do to me?" I asked anxiously. "Well according to the information with the bottle it will make your skin soften, redistribute fat around your body and generally make you look less boyish," she said being economical with the truth. I felt like asking her why she was doing this to me but decided that it would just make her more angry. I dutifully took my medicine after deciding that one pill wouldn't turn me into a girl overnight. However that first pill was to be the first of many morning and night and before long I could feel the shocking changes in my breasts and nipples. After another two months we went back to the doctor and he examined my appearance carefully and was very happy that dressed as I was, with longer highly styled feminine hair I was developing into an attractive girl. "Doctor...," I tried to speak to him but Mum would interrupt me and ask something different to what I had in mind. Of course it was usually something completely opposite to what I would have asked like, "what can be done to make his breasts grow faster?" or "what is involved in gender reassignment operations?" and so on. I didn't want this and I couldn't get them to see that. It seemed that he was giving her what she wanted and not what I did. She left with an altered prescription with higher dosages of oestrogen medicine and I knew that I wouldn't ever be changing back to a boy after that visit. There was a meeting of me and my parents arranged for that night. They wanted me to understand that I had no longer had any say in what was right for me and they had decided (or rather Mum had) that I had embraced the feminine gender wholeheartedly and would thus be considered a girl by them from now on. Before all this started I would have made a really big noise about this situation but now there was nothing but compliance and softness from me. I had been turned into a shy and demure girl who was unable to argue against my Mum's persuasion over my Dad. "See how well the clothes fit now," she said. "How well he moves and behaves? Would you say he's more girl than boy now? If he didn't like being this way why doesn't he complain or fight it?" "But Mum," I started to say my complaint. "Mum please. I really don't want this!" "Then you should have thought of that before dressing in your sister's clothes." my Dad replied angrily, "Now you've made your bed you have to lie in it. But I don't think this is a humiliation any more as you seem to be enjoying it too much." "Yes he never complains as you would expect from a normal boy. When we pierce his ears, or get his eyebrows plucked or paint his nails, he just accepts it and this is the result. Look at how well those clothes fit now. How well he talks and walks like a girl. These feminine tendencies of his are quite deeply ingrained I think. Look how he sits quietly while we decide his future. If he were really a man he would be yelling his head off. Outside no one can tell he's a boy. He's very attractive and he draws the attention of boys. Rachel is clearly meant to be a young attractive lady whether we agree with it or not. This is obvious to the therapist who treats him as he wants Rachel to take stronger doses of female hormones morning and night." Ruth who had entered while Mum was speaking backed up Mum by saying how well behaved I was. "I agree with you Mum he used to give me grief constantly and lately he's been a lot better. Calmer somehow." "Anything else?" Mum asked her. "I think that no matter what we say, he'll continue to dress up in girl's clothes in private. This way he can dress up any way he wants and it will be completely normal." That seemed to decide it and although my Dad looked sullen, my Mum and sister seemed happy that they'd decided what should happen. I don't know why but my opinion wasn't asked for despite me trying to argue against it. I was just disappointed in them and in myself so walked out of the room. When I got to my room my Mum had left a shopping bag on my bed and I opened it up to see she'd bought three pairs of high waist pantie girdles and some sheer pantyhose again with tummy control built in. There was also a satin pencil skirt, blouse and a pair of satin black 3" high heels in my size. She shouted upstairs to me put on the pantyhose and a girdle under the skirt and to try on the shoes so I dutifully complied. A few months earlier I would have given my right arm to try on these items but now I was reluctantly getting dressed in them with less excitement. A few minutes later I was dressed in what was the sexiest outfit I'd ever worn. She came upstairs and nodded her approval that I'd obeyed her, also that it all fitted perfectly and that it looked good on me. "Now sit and do your make-up like a good girl. Put in your gold hoop earrings too," she ordered rather than requested so I sat down reluctantly at my newly purchased vanity and complied, "Good girl!" she said. "When you are done we'll take you out for a treat." "Where are we going?" I asked as dressed and made up we went out to the car. I could hear my 3" spike heels clicking on the path as we walked and my legs rubbing together inside the skirt. Instead of answering me she showed me how to get into a car while wearing a tight skirt by sitting down on the seat and then swinging my bent legs inside. I could feel the sheer pantyhose rubbing against my legs because of the tight skirt, the creamy taste of the red lipstick on my lips while my loaded eyelashes blinked constantly as my eyes watered. I could feel the tug on my earlobes with the heavy earrings while my perfume was over powering. Her treat consisted of my first ever manicure and gel nails were applied that I was told would never come off without a lot of effort. The salon assistant at least didn't make them too long and did them in a French manicure style but they just added to my totally convincing look. With that done, Mum bought me some padded bras that fitted my still growing breasts. I was shocked that I actually filled my own bra and the padded versions she bought meant it was impossible to hide that I had real breasts. "From now you are going to be Rachel all the time and I'll have to write a note for your new school to tell them about you and that you should be treated as a girl. They'll excuse you from physical education but you can also change your courses to those a girl would do such as home economics, languages and art." I couldn't see any way out of this impossible situation short of leaving home but at 14 I was too young. There seemed to be no one to talk to except my Dad but he didn't want much to do with me and he'd even been working late at night and at weekends to avoid contact with me. I looked at my hands and wondered what else could be done. I was soon to find out. Another visit to the therapist had me wearing newer tight girl's stretch jeans that showed off my ever widening hips while my top showed I was developing a deep cleavage. My styled hair was longer and fuller while I had gained another piercing in the top of my ears. My eyebrows were also a fine arch thanks to Ruth's patience and expert plucking. "Have you had any encounters with boys yet?" he asked. "No." I replied. "Would you like to have a boyfriend?" he asked me. "Well I would like a friendship," I replied and explained that this situation had left me with no friends. "I don't mind if it's a girl or a boy." "Oh that will change now," he said confidently. "When are you starting back at school?" "In a few weeks," I replied. "Mum's arranged for me to go to a new school for the next session." "That's sensible so your new life as Rachel can begin normally," he said enthusiastically. It seemed like he was taking my transformation into a girl as his own personal triumph or success. "You will have to deal with boys and other girls and it will be a first challenge for you to avoid conflicts and ensure that you can create friends easily as only a pretty girl can." We then walked to my family doctor who gave me a complete physical examination and he was satisfied that the hormones were changing me as expected. I was skinnier everywhere except for my hips and breasts. He was able to reassure me that my breasts were quite normal and just as any normal girl would find. He told me that if growth wasn't quite what I would like I could ask for implants. I didn't like the idea of that so he said that he had assumed that I would want to be the same as my sister and Mum who were both a DD cup. "No she often hates having large breasts," I told him knowing how my sister reacted to them. "The hormones may give you breasts similar to her," he cautioned. I decided that I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. Later I tried to imagine what it would be like having the same large breasts like Ruth and I knew I didn't want the handicap of them constantly on my ribs. I'd arranged to meet Ruth after my appointment and we went into a restaurant for some coffee. As we sat and talked about what the doctor had said, we came under the attention from two guys at a nearby table. They came over and asked if we could help them. "We are new in town and looking for the best mall for boy's clothes," said the oldest who was tall and blonde haired. "Could you give us directions?" Ruth replied helpfully, "we're going there ourselves soon so we can show you the way." We quickly drank our coffees and then at the doorway pointed to the big mall across the street. "Can you show us what's there?" they asked but at that moment I was grateful to see our Mum arrive to pick us up in her car. So we walked over to her car knowing those two guys were watching our every move as our heels clicked and asses swayed in our figure hugging skirts. Ruth explained about the two boys and instead of allowing us into the car insisted that we take them to the mall. So it was that I went about that day for the first time with a guy called Geoff while Ruth paired with Gordon. We walked over to the Mall and not being used to shoes this tall my feet began to hurt and then go on fire with pain. I almost fell once as we crossed a grass strip where my heels dug into the soil but Geoff saved me from the embarrassment by grabbing my arm and hand. "Thanks," I said gratefully wishing I could get these stupid shoes off my feet. "Oh think nothing of it. It can't be easy walking in heels as high as those," he replied and I willing agreed with him. He smiled at my discomfort and fragility. He had a good honest face and he held onto my hand until we were well inside the mall. I actually enjoyed his company and he bought us all an ice cream after he'd bought himself a new pair of faded jeans. As we walked out of the mall with Ruth and Gordon, Geoff asked to see me again and asked for my number. I didn't have a pen in my bag so I used my lipstick on a piece of scrap paper to write it down. "I think you look fabulous," he said before kissing me on the cheek goodbye. "Looks like you made an impression on Geoff," said Ruth as we watched them go towards their bus. He was constantly turning round to wave or to smile. I didn't know what to think as he clearly saw me as a girl and not a boy. Was there nothing left of the Ricky who wanted to dress up occasionally in girl's clothes? It seemed not and I was now Rachel who would do nothing else but dress and look like a girl. My Mum was keen to know what had happened when she arrived back to take us home. She seemed quite pleased that Geoff had asked to see me again and it was a big shock when I saw a text arrive on my phone as we went home "Hi Rachel, Thnks for 2day, I'd rlly like 2 see u again." I felt like throwing the phone away but Ruth snatched it from me and read it aloud. "Listen to this Mum - he wants to see her again," she said handing it back to me but not before she'd replied a text on my behalf. "Sure see u soon." "Well done Ruth," Mum laughed but I just felt uncomfortable and confused about everything. This was crazy that Mum wanted me to date a boy and my life surely couldn't get any worse before I remembered that I was going to be going to school as a girl from now on. A few days later Geoff called me and we arranged to go and see a movie. It wasn't a chick flick as I expected but was a modern action movie that most boys would like so I didn't mind it. We walked back to my house from the bus stop with me now walking very confidently in my heels and tight jeans. He acted like a gentleman and politely asked for a kiss goodnight at the garden gate. I could hardly refuse it since he'd been so nice to me all night long but it felt really weird feeling his tongue probe deep inside my mouth in a passionate embrace. "You taste good, sweet Rachel," he whispered in my ear as his right hand fondled my bra covered breasts. He tried to put his hand inside my blouse before I stopped him saying that my Mum might be watching which he probably took as an indication that it was OK for him to do it but not outside my house. Instead he gave me a last lingering kiss before I walked briskly back inside and closed the door with my heart thumping hard. This was crazy I shouldn't be kissing a boy or him having his hands on my chest. It was though quite exciting though knowing that I was so convincing that he had no idea that I'd been born a boy. "So how was your first date honey?" Mum asked as I walked into the kitchen and kicked off my shoes. "It felt weird Mum, we get on well but kissing him was strange," I replied putting on rubber gloves to protect my false nails and polish before automatically washing the dinner plates. "He stuck his tongue deep inside my mouth and grabbed at my breasts. I think he would have gone further if I hadn't stopped him." "You should always leave him wanting more," she smiled as she tackled a big pile of laundry including my own sexy lingerie and underwear. "You might need to give him pleasure at some point. You can't obviously let him see what's between your legs until we get that fixed." The word "fixed" made me shiver. I was unhappy at the thought of losing the last vestige of my masculinity. Unfortunately it looked like a forgone conclusion regardless. "So what should I do if he wants inside my panties Mum?" I asked. "Well you'll probably need to divert his attention somehow," she replied vaguely. "How?" "Well you could claim it was your time of the month and that will stop him," she added. "It stops most men." "Oh I hadn't thought of that but I wont have them all the time and if that doesn't stop him? What then?" I asked. "You might need to satisfy him orally," she advised. "Men love oral sex and if he comes on strong then one way would be to satisfy him that way. However Rachel you should keep that as a last resort." "You are kidding," I replied, "I can't suck a man's ...." I was so disgusted I couldn't say the word cock. At that moment I couldn't stomach the idea but there would come a time when I'd probably have to grin and bear it. A few years later I would have to, to avoid detection I'd have to kiss then take one into my mouth. I'd have to use my tongue and lips to make him hard till he filled my mouth with cum. I felt like throwing up at the thought. While Geoff was clearly excited when we were together as I could feel his hard on through my dress against my waist I was on the other hand getting more and more frustrated sexually. I couldn't seem to get an erection no matter how much I tried and my penis and balls still seemed to be painfully small like those found on a small boy. So if all this treatment stopped how would I ever perform as a man I wondered? I still liked to watch other girls but often found myself comparing my look to theirs. There was a girl from my old school who I regularly saw out and about. She was often seen wearing knee high spike heel boots and a short tight skirt, strawberry blonde pony tail. I loved her sexy look so much that I actually asked Mum if I could get the same style of boots and dress when we passed her. Naturally she agreed to it. When Geoff saw me in that outfit for the first time it was electric. I decided that if I was going to play the girl role I would try and have some fun too. His reaction was just like I would have made if it had been me with that girl from school. He was all over me and really treated me like his princess. Meantime the "medicine" was still making my body more and more girlish. My hips were rounding and more was being added to my chest so I could finally get rid of the padded bras. I had a C cup cleavage and it looked like the doctor was right that I would be well endowed just like Ruth. Mum also kept me on a low calorie diet so I was forced to eat only small amounts of food in order to "keep my figure". So I was always feeling hungry and always felt low in energy. On top of all this I was still expected to help Mum with the meals and housework. All my pleading for this to stop fell on deaf ears. The therapist didn't seem to listen to me that I wanted my male life back and it was as if he'd already decided that I was to be a girl. Unknown to me my Mum had other things in mind and made contact with a plastic surgeon who was an expert in gender reassignment surgery. When she arranged an appointment with the surgeon just after my 16th birthday I was by then an utterly convincing looking girl. The surgeon couldn't believe I was male and asked to check my passport which still listed me as male. I was asked to undress and put on some weird nightgown. That done I was asked to lie on a bed with stirrups in place that would support my ankles so the surgeon could examine me. I saw him handling a syringe in his right hand and filling it with some liquid from a bottle. He carefully inserted a needle into the back of my hand and I started to feel something spread up my arm and was completely unconscious in seconds. It was like someone switched off a light in my brain. When I woke up some time later I felt much different. Not only was I in a hospital bed I had pain down below between my legs and I had a feeling of massive pressure on my chest. "What's happened?" I asked. "I'm really thirsty." I was given some water by a nurse and told to rest as the doctor would be along in a few minutes. In the corner of my eye I could see a big bunch of flowers from my Mum and Dad with a get better soon card. I was panicking. 'My god they've done the surgery already,' I thought and tried to put my hand down to the pain centre at my groin. I felt a big bandage which seemed to confirm my worst fears. I couldn't understand why I hadn't been asked to agree with this. I coughed and felt my chest heave against the tight skin covering my now enlarged breasts. This couldn't be real. Not only had they removed my penis but I was stuffed full of silicone or saline implants. When the doctor came in I was angry about it but he completely pulled the rug out from under me when he announced that he had a signed consent form from my parents and the therapist and given me exactly what I had wanted. "What I had wanted? What did I want?" I asked him. "Well you had saline implants to increase your breast size from a small C cup to a DD just like your sister and mother I believe. And lastly I removed your testicles," he said. "Just my testicles?" I asked. I was shocked. "Yes so that you can now stop taking the anti andogens medication and have more control over your female hormone intake," he said, "It's quite a normal procedure in transsexuals to have an orchiectomy during their transition. Tight clothes should fit you better too." "Dear God!" I said utterly bewildered. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" "It wasn't?" he asked. "I can't reverse the procedure if you've changed your mind now. Things will be less painful in a few days and I'm sure you'll be happy with the results. You can ask for pain control medication if it's too severe." "Thank you, yes I'd like some," I replied but I just wanted to cry myself back to sleep. Later I was allowed to sit up and could immediately feel the pressure on my chest and the tight tender skin that contained my implants despite the bandages. I couldn't believe how much bigger my chest was as I looked down at myself. When my Mum arrived it seemed that she looked very happy that I'd taken another step to look like her and Ruth and that my operation was a success. "Why didn't you tell me this surgery was going to happen?" I asked. "What difference does it make now?" She replied curtly. "It was always going to happen that you would become Rachel. At least this way you are over two of the surgeries you needed done to complete your transition." "But you went and did it without telling me!" I said angrily "Yes so you wouldn't be uptight about this surgery beforehand. I decided it would be less stressful if you didn't know what was in store for you." I shook my head in disbelief. There seemed to be no point in arguing any more as what was done couldn't be undone by arguing with her. Clearly it was just going to be a matter of time before I was a full female and her plans would be complete. I was allowed home a few days later and with some specially bought support bras I was able to get around. The dressings were all removed and my tiny penis was all that remained between my legs as my balls were missing and I had two rows of sutures in my scrotum. With the implants I was now sporting the same curvy figure as my sister and mother. I was told that they would look more natural in a few months but they just felt like two big jelly mounds stuck to my ribs. However I was simply stunned that this had happened. At school there was some reaction from the girls while the boys had a lot of interest in me. Often I'd get requests to date one or other of the soccer team but I was just too unhappy to get involved with someone else. These changes were permanent and it illustrated that this was a clear statement that I wouldn't get any satisfaction from being a boy who pervertedly dressed as a girl as I would be a girl. I was a girl and now girl's clothes were just that clothes and not something to be enjoyed as before. There would be no outward sign of sexual excitement in wearing sexy female clothes it would just be a matter of fact that I'd spend the rest of my life having to wear a bra to support my breasts rather than anything else. Mum told me a few weeks later when my anger had subsided a little that she had always believed that I wanted to be a girl deep down. When I had denied it they just didn't believe me. Now what made things worse was that everyone acted as though nothing was wrong. As if it was perfectly normal for me to be this way. Even my Dad had finally decided that the changes were for the best even if I didn't want to have breasts that big. I would be his daughter Rachel forever and that had taken some adjustment on his part so I should try and do that too. Geoff was delighted with the change in my chest size and didn't ask why I had it done. He'd often say how much better my figure was now and now he was very happy. He couldn't resist touching them after they'd healed up. I liked it when he started to massage them and made my nipples go hard which was a good sign as far as he was concerned that he turned me on. In fact it was weird feeling him touch and fondle them. It felt alien like it shouldn't be happening. He often would buy me sexy lingerie and I had a few bra and panty sets that he liked to see me wear but were utterly impracticable and uncomfortable for day to day use On one level having implants gave me more confidence as I could show a cleavage since I had my own fuller breasts. If having my breasts hadn't been a source of so much sadness at the loss of my manhood I would probably have liked them more. As it was I just treated life with them in the same way as my sister did. They'd wake me up as I slept and I took to wearing a support teddy or peignoir in bed. I continued meeting with my gender therapist and would try to make it clear that I didn't want to become a girl. "I only ever liked the sexual excitement of cross dressing," I told him on one occasion that Mum didn't attend the appointment. "Did you get constantly aroused?" he asked. "Well no. I did though find it very exciting to wear my sister's clothes." "Are you excited mow?" he asked. "No I don't get excited any longer since I had the surgeries. There is nothing to get excited about now. It just feels like when I used to dress up in my boy's clothes. That these are just clothes to wear." "Don't you feel the difference in materials? He asked. "Yes obviously that's different," I replied honestly and crossed my legs feeling the sheer nylon feel of the stockings. Unlike before where I would get an erection from doing that there was nothing like the same reaction now. "So you don't enjoy wearing those stockings?" "I do and I don't," I replied. "It's not the same now and its not as exciting as it once was. I often just want to go back to being a boy." "Do you think if you went back to being a boy you'd still dress in these clothes?" he asked. I didn't reply as I thought about it. That hesitation probably sealed my fate as I said, "I don't know for sure but I'd probably would dress up in private as before." He had been very polite and listened to me intently but when he went to write up his notes, he said that I was still confused about my gender and on balance my transition should continue as my physical appearance was more girl than boy. He wrote "I feel that Rachel would be much happier and feel more normal as a woman. She gives the impression of a natural girl. Her body movements and mannerisms are all of a typical woman and to revert back now would cause her problems as she wouldn't possibly be able to act like a boy. Also she has had breast implants and surgical castration which have only enhanced her feminine appearance. I recommend that she be referred for surgery at the correct time." "The only reason she claims for originally dressing as a girl was the sexual excitement that she derived from it. Now she claims it is just wearing clothes indicates that the treatment given has worked making it normal for her to dress as a woman. Although she says that there is no excitement clearly that isn't the case as she presents easily as a sexily dressed young woman with very tall heels, nails and stockings rather than as a frumpy girl style that her words would suggest." "So despite her verbal claims that she wants to be a boy again, her actions clearly indicate that she is a woman. She plays the feminine role perfectly well and looks, talks and walks despite impossibly high heels just like a girl." "Then there is the relationship Rachel has with her boyfriend Geoff that has continued now for some time. Although she suggests that it is just a good friendship clearly she has had some form of female role in a sexual relationship with her providing affection and kisses to him. If she didn't enjoy the female role then this relationship wouldn't have lasted as long as it has." Finally, he wrote, "Her mother has often caught her admiring her body in the mirror, applying heavy make-up while wearing lingerie. Then her sister has indicated that Rachel was desperate to be a girl and has had a good relationship with her boyfriend Geoff." My parents of course believed the therapist's report and my fate was sealed as my Mum applied to get my birth certificate changed. It was now showing my new name of Rachel instead of Richard. "That's that then," I said as I looked at the certificate before it was put away inside the wall safe. I was now officially a girl called Rachel. My Dad hoped that I would be happier it was all officially finished. We hugged more often now since my breast surgery had healed and he was always being very nice to me by giving me presents and money. I was Dad's baby girl now but I missed the rough and tumble we used to share. Of course I was still seeing Geoff frequently and we were daily exchanging texts and emails. He would also buy me things when we got together including a giant pink and white teddy bear for my room. Actually he and I became closer and he was thrilled about our good relationship. We spent a lot of time together but I often hated being the girl in the relationship and wished we could just be good friends instead of boyfriend and girlfriend. I was also unable to perform physically like he could. He was able to do so much more while I felt like my new gender was holding me back. While he could stride out confidently I had to take small mincing steps in my usual high heels he liked me to wear. Although I found that I was used to wearing them I would often have to ask him to slow down while I caught him up. It was around that time that my constant wearing of really tall heels were having an effect on my calf muscles. I found that my feet hurt in them but when I wore anything less than 2" heels then my calve muscles hurt even more. So when I went back to school my uniform consisted of shoes with a three inch block heel, dark pantyhose, a gray pleated skirt, blouse, school tie and a green blazer that was buttoned up the opposite way. Ruth was still going to my old school while I had been given a fresh start at another at the other end of town. My parents had talked to the head master about the transfer and they had arranged my timetable so I would fit in unnoticed into the classes. When I was given my class list and timetable, I found that my science classes were replaced with biology and geography while my mathematics was replaced with home economics. I had no friends but none of the class knew my history so that was a big relief. So I learnt how to bake cakes and I was scolded for having nail polish on my nails. Still I did make a new friend in Marcia who was also a newcomer to this school. We became good friends after that first day. No one knew about my past and eventually I fitted into the routine and the class schedules. At Physical Education I asked to be excused but was told that it was to be dancing practice for the Autumn Ball. I was hopeless and couldn't seem to get used to being steered around by Jerry Smith on that first period of dancing lessons. After that day I was called to the Head Master's office where it was explained that he knew about my situation and being enrolled as a girl. "Your parents have written a note that you are going through gender reassignment and we will help you in any way we can," he stated. "Girls like you are not uncommon and we have others here who are undergoing the same process as you now." "Thanks," I mumbled and was acutely embarrassed. "I assume that you wont divulge my secret while I am here?" "Yes that's correct. To do so would cause you and us acute problems so provided you make every effort to act as your new gender we will not have to explain anything to anyone," he replied. "You may be excused from physical education as then you don't need to shower with the other girls until after your final surgery." "Thanks that would be embarrassing for everyone," I agreed very relieved. "Your mother has given me your list of class choices and we have made space for you in all your elective subjects," he said. I saw then that my original boyhood plans to study physics and mathematics had been overruled. Along with that my ambitions to become an engineer would clearly never happen. I was though very good at cooking and working in the kitchen so wasn't surprised that this would feature strongly in my study of home economics. I used to be heavily involved in sporting events at school so I felt sad that I wouldn't take part in them any more because of my condition. Now competing in athletic events would become a thing of the past and I would only be able to look on from the sidelines. Dancing classes were something I could do but I couldn't dance again with a girl. Mum enrolled me into yoga classes she took with Ruth and I also regularly did aerobics at home. For that whole first year at school as a girl I felt that my secret would be discovered at any time which would cause me humiliation and acute embarrassment. When I got home I still had to help with the housework and Mum and Ruth kept making sure I was acting in a feminine manner at all times while Dad just treated me like any normal teenage girl. Mum arranged for me to get a job at a local goodwill shop and I would spend Saturdays and Sundays helping out at the store. Although the pay wasn't great I was able to choose items and clothes that people dropped in at huge discount. Worst was that when Geoff left to work in a different city, I found a new boyfriend through a friend of Ruth's who told me that he really wanted to get to know me better. George in his early twenties was a lot older than Geoff and in his spare time he boxed in the local gym. In contrast to Geoff, George was athletic and full of muscles. He was also very handsome in a rugged kind of way, was reasonably wealthy with a good paying job in construction alongside his father. I found out he really wanted to date me and that succeeded in reinforcing my female position. I was the chased and not the chaser any more. He sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers and the card said that I was the most beautiful girl he'd seen in months and he would really like to take me out on a date.