Supergirl and Powergirl Snob s Pleasure
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Our First Girl Day free porn video
Our First Girl-Day, by Lauren Mayweather, Lifestyle Columnist.
Brentford Sunday Herald, April 20th, 2015.
Teresa York's controversial new book, "Balanced Boys", has provoked
controversy and even outrage by suggesting that young men should be
encouraged to spend 'girl days' in which they dress and act as girls. In
the interests of furthering debate on the matter, I decided to put her
theory to the test on my two sons, Jason (15) and Harry (7). Their
sister, Ashley (12), assisted in the process.
The book itself lays out its case in great detail, but the basic premise
is this: the progress of women's rights has led women to succeed in
fields that were once the domain of men alone. However, there has been
little or no progress in terms of men succeeding in areas traditionally
dominated by women. A young girl who wanted to play football would be
applauded as a feminist, a boy who wanted to knit, however, would be
considered eccentric at best, and subjected to ridicule. However, males
have the same nurturing instincts as women, but are forced to repress
them from an early age. This constant repression inhibits emotional
development, and can, in extreme cases, lead to disruptive or even
criminal behaviour. York believes this comes from a deep-rooted contempt
for all things girlish which is in turn rooted in castration anxiety, a
la Freud. In her version of the theory, however, a young boy, upon
realising the difference in equipment between boys and girls, believes
that his mother (rather than the father in Freud's vision) wishes to
remove his penis and turn him into a girl. The best way to prevent this
is by distancing himself from anything feminine, thereby discouraging
this transformation. The only way to overcome this deep-rooted fear is by
encouraging males to spend some time as a girl, preferably once every
three to six months.
My husband, Paul, had... misgivings about the idea, to say the least. He
argued it would lead the boys to be bullied, or that it would damage them
in some ill-defined way. I told him that his attitude was ridiculous at
best, and homophobic at worst. However, he was used to my doing strange
things in the interest of this column- he still likes to regale our
friends with tales about the time I tried to become a Mexican wrestler-
and in the end we decided to let the boys decide.
So, a week passed while my husband read the book as well, and we called
the boys together around the dining room table for a talk.
"You want us to dress up as girls, don't you?" said Jason, before we
could even start. "I've seen that book you've been reading."
It was quite a relief that he raised the subject, it being an
understandably difficult one to raise. "I'd like to do a story on it,
yes," I replied. "It's entirely up to you."
"Mum?" asked Harry, looking more than a little panicked, "don't you like
us being boys?"
I smiled. "Of course I do. I love you both just the way you are, and Ash
too. But, well, this book says it's good for boys to see what being a
girl is like once in a while, and I want to test that out. If you don't
want to, it's fine."
The two boys both looked deeply suspicious.
"You're not going to..." Harry paused. "... make us cut our things off,
are you?"
"No. Of course not," I replied. "It's just dressing up, honey. A bit of
play-acting, is all."
"What's in it for us?" asked Jason. Intense negotiation followed,
primarily revolving around a couple of new video games (We were forced to
stop giving them monetary rewards after The Shuriken Incident). We
discussed what it would involve in great detail; a process which took
over an hour, and which followed the procedure that York laid out in
chapter seven. After all this, I asked them for a final decision.
"Let's do it," said Jason.
"Okay," agreed his brother. Beaming with pride, I swept my sons up in a
massive hug, and promised them I would do everything in my power to make
their girl day special.
*
Two weeks passed while I made the necessary preparations- buying clothes
for my two boys, and I even made a few minor redecorations to our spare
room, turning it into a girl's bedroom and allowing them to wake up in a
suitably girlish environment. Friday night rolled around, and I gave the
boys their presents, a large, gift-wrapped box of goodies, most of which
were ordered from the Balanced Boys Network, which provides a discussion
forum for parents wishing to try giving their sons a Girl Day, as well as
providing an online shopping site to provide any of the more obscure
paraphernalia they might need.
"Crikey!" gasped Jason, as he unwrapped one of those aforementioned 'more
obscure pieces of paraphernalia'. It was a latex vaginal gaff, a piece of
rubber moulded into the shape of a vagina, designed to prevent any
unladylike bulges and to look more or less like a girl's genitalia. He
blushed, and looked at it, and opened his mouth to ask a question, but
closed it again. According to York's book, it is very therapeutic for a
young man to spend an entire day without seeing his penis - and indeed,
to see himself without one - as it removes the terror associated with the
primal castration fantasy.
"That particular item comes with very detailed instructions," I said.
"I'm assured it's very comfortable and quite realistic too. You can even
pee through it!"
Blushing, he buried his head back into his box, wondering if it was too
late to back out. (Answer: Yes! Hee hee hee!)
Jason peered back in the box, and pulled out a set of breastforms - I
only got him an A cup as I felt teaching him the problems the larger
ladies faced would be counterproductive - and a bra. He looked like he
was going to be ill. His younger brother, on the other hand, was having
no such problem.
"Oh my god! I have to wear knickers," he said, pulling out the white
cotton briefs I had bought him and giggling hysterically. "This is sooooo
funny! They've got little flowers on them!"
"I think you'll look really cute," I replied. "There's a dress in there
for you, but if you prefer, you can wear some of your sister's old
clothes."
Before long, the boys had been through their gift-boxes, and I urged them
to go and get changed. Meanwhile, their sister returned home, who
received a stern lecture on not laughing at her brothers. She ate a slice
of cake, a vision of suspicion-inducing innocence.
Twenty minutes later my two new daughters emerged; Jason dressed in a
black skirt, tights, and a jumper, his sister in a Bratz tee and denim
skirt. Harry- who had decided he would be called Chloe while in girl-
mode- was wearing her eye-length short hair in a clip above her eye,
looked almost perfectly girlish. His older sister had made a good job of
her make-up, too: her eyeliner was a bit Sisters of Mercy, but she
deserved credit for the effort. She, too, was more than passable as a
girl. At fifteen, his features were still quite delicate, and of the sort
that teenage girls would more likely describe as 'cute' rather than
'manly'.
"Oh my GAWD!" gasped Ash, as I turned to her with a swift warning stare
that one only develops after fifteen years as a mother, "you guys look
amazing!"
Twirling, and eager to be the centre of attention, Chloe smiled. "I look
fantastic!" The three girls gushed and babbled at each other for a few
minutes, Ash eager to dress her new little sister up in all her old
outfits, and trade make-up tips with her older sister. Her big sister,
who had chosen the name of Yvette, was more restrained, an evident mix of
embarrassment and bewilderment adding to her but after the attention all
died down, she seemed to be quietly enjoying the role. We decided to
watch Tangled - a film we agreed was suitably girlish, and which the
former boys hadn't seen, despite it having been one of Ashley's
favourites a couple of years ago. They all enjoyed it, and I couldn't
help feeling an odd sense of pride when Chloe started running around
pretending to be Rapunzel, when a few weeks ago the thought of playing at
being a girl would have appalled her. Afterwards, I herded my brood off
to bed.
*
The next day rolled around, and I got up bright and early at seven to get
our Girl Day started. Chloe's early rising habits persisted from her
previous life as Harry, and she arrived downstairs only a few minutes
after I did, dressed in her skirt and Bratz t-shirt. Flipping on the
television, she poured herself some cereal, and started to watch the
Action Man cartoon series. I stared at her in maternal confusion, my
hands on my hips.
"Chloe? What are you watching that for? That's boring boy stuff! Don't
you want to watch Molly Smith: Girl Detective? We can record Action Man
for Harry; he can watch it when he comes back tomorrow."
She looked at me for a moment, as if she was going to argue, but instead
shrugged, and smiled.
"Sorry Mum, I don't know what was thinking!"
Ashley came down at about half past eight, and joined her sister watching
cartoons. She seemed quite pleased; her television choices tended to get
over-ruled by her two brothers, but now she was in charge of the viewing.
Chloe started off disinterested, and looking more than a little peeved,
but the cartoon slowly sucked her in, and by the end she was quite
involved, laughing at the one-liners, and cheering when the girl
detectives caught the jewel thief.
"Molly's cool!" she said afterwards. "I thought it was boring at first,
but it's dead funny! It's weird how they beat those crooks without
fighting them."
The two girls watched Millie the Model after that. Chloe was confused at
first, but soon got into it to. "I thought clothes and stuff were boring,
but it's like a game, isn't it? You win by making yourself the prettiest.
It's no different to being a footballer, really, isn't it?"
I smiled. Chloe was really getting the hang of it.
Yvette finally emerged around ten o'clock. She poured herself some
cereal, and ate it, watching a few music videos, blank and bored.
I wanted to spend some time with her, so I asked her to join me in the
kitchen, where we made cookies. Admittedly, this is a little embarrassing
for a feminist, but I wanted something to do while we talked. The
conversation seemed much more engaged than it did before: we spoke of
school and work and books- I told her about "Rebecca" and "The Bell Jar",
she told me about "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Carroll" and "For The Win".
It gave me a chance to bond with my daughter, something that our other
commitments and the age and gender gap usually made difficult.
While our cookies baked, I went upstairs to see what Ashley and Chloe
were doing. They had nicked some of Yvette's makeup - naughty!- and
Ashley had given her little sister a makeover. She had put her in an old
party frock of hers, and sparkly tights, and they were dancing to a
Rebecca Black song.
"No, no! It's like this," instructed Ashley demonstrating a bewildering
motion of steps and twirls, "and THEN the bit with your hands!"
"Looks like you're having fun," I said, "and you're doing great, Chloe,"
Ashley can be quite a stern instructor, and I thought the encouragement
was a good idea. However, it was time for our cookies. Yvette seemed both
proud and surprised as she watched her sisters eat the food she made: I
think I had unearthed a hitherto unknown nurturing instinct. Afterwards,
they all played Nintendogs and Peach's Big Adventure on the Wii3, and it
was a very pleasant change to see them playing nicely together rather
than the usual testosterone-fuelled shouting over a beat-em-up. It was
also good to see all three of them playing together, rather than just
Ashley, or just the boys.
With that, I went off to prepare lunch, and their father returned from
his Flemish class. We ate and talked; Paul absorbing the details of his
new daughters lives, and trying to maintain a polite interest in his
youngest's newfound interest in dance.
Soon, however, our meal was interrupted by the house-phone. We tell the
kids to keep their mobiles switched off at family times: unless they're
expecting a call from the Prime Minister to ask their opinion on the
single European Currency, meal time takes precedence. I silently cursed
Alexander Graham Bell and his seeming desire to give marketing clowns an
opportunity to interrupt our mealtimes, and answered the phone.
"Could I speak to... um... Yvette, please?" It was a teenage girl.
"Who's speaking?"
"It's Jane. Jane Morgan," I recognised the name, and realised I knew the
voice as well. Ashley was friends with Jane's younger sister, Bronwyn.
Jane was in Jason's class at school.
Returning to the dining room, I told Yvette who was on the phone. Her
face turned beetroot red, and I could almost hear her heard start to
pound- Jason's crush on Jane had been a poorly kept secret for some
months. After five minutes of intense conversation, she returned, beaming
from ear to ear.
"She wants to go out this afternoon!"
"With Yvette, I assume?" I insisted. He had promised he would spend the
day as a girl, and I had a deadline to meet.
Beaming, he nodded. "She was quite insistent on this point. I mean... she
said she just wanted to hang out with 'the new girl in town', introduce
me to her friends, that sort of thing," She paused for a moment, suddenly
horrorstruck. "What should I wear?!"
"What you're wearing is lovely, dear," I replied.
After lunch, I watched as my eldest daughter headed out to meet her
friends, and felt a pang of anxiety for her safety. I realised that I had
come to think of her differently now she was a girl- I trusted the world
with my sons in a way I didn't with my girls. I worried for Ashley's
safety far more than I did for Jason at her age. No. Yvette would be
fine.
The issue of my eldest now dealt with, I now had to think of what to do
with my two remaining daughters. Inspiration soon struck: I had always
loved ice-skating since I was a girl- regular readers may remember my
piece last year about my starring role as Anthropomorphic Chipmunk #4
when Disney on Ice came to town last year - and although my love for art-
form had yet to infect Ashley, I was sure I could succeed with Chloe.
So, we set out for the local rink for some quality mother/daughters time,
got our skates on, and I even let Ashley put on Justin Bieber on the car
journey, as she argued it was what girls her age liked, and therefore,
Chloe should too. Reluctantly, I agreed; though not before giving my
youngest daughter a lengthy talk about how she could form her own tastes,
and that sometimes it was cooler not to like the same things as your
older sister. Ashley seemed rather upset at this, but in the end, I
plugged Ashley's mp3 player into the car stereo and let her pick her song
of choice. Chloe seemed nonplussed, but still eager to listen to her
older sister's music. It seemed there were downsides to having a new
daughter....
We skated for an hour or so, going round and round; Ashley got a little
bored after an hour, but Chloe enjoyed herself, not least enjoying the
fact that everybody thought she was a girl. She really did look the part
in her knee-skirt, pink pullover and braided hair. As my daughters
skated, hand in hand, I stopped for a coffee, and to make a few notes for
this article.
I turned in horror to see my two girls in the stand, an older boy looming
over them. The urge to intervene rose in me, but I knew my children had
to learn to fight their own battles, so instead I just watched.
"You're a sissy! You're Ashley's brother! You're wearing girl clothes!
How very gay!" he taunted. Chloe looked like she was about to cry. "I'll
tell everybody at school you're a sissy-boy!" What would he do? Would he
cry and run away? Fight him? I had always tried to raise my children to
abhor violence- they've been on their fair share of anti-war demos- but
under the circumstances, I could entirely understand if he tried to push
him.
But no. I'm proud to say my youngest daughter showed bravery, and quick-
thinking, and the inner strength of a GIRL. She fought back, not with her
fists, but with her mouth and her mind.
"Michael," she said - for that was the boy's name, he was in some of
Ashley's classes at school, "We don't even go to the same school. And
everybody knows I'm doing this thing for my mum today. It's going to be
in the newspaper. If you even try to start spreading this crap about me,
I'll get Ashley to tell every girl in your year you wet the bed."
Okay, so the girlish courage and strength was tempered with a fair amount
of bitchiness, back-stabbing, blackmail and rumour-mongering, but she
solved the problem in a non-violent way, and what's more, he fought like
a girl: with cunning, viciousness, and the kind of bitch-fu that would
scare a prom-queen. Michael shouted a homophobic epithet at Chloe, and
skated off with the inelegance of probable bed-wetter. My two daughters
high-fived each other, and skated off hand-in-hand.
Eventually we tired, and Ashley convinced us to go to the shopping
centre. Ashley argued- and I suspect she had an ulterior motive - that
clothes-shopping was an important girly activity that Chloe should learn
to enjoy. I replied that as Chloe wouldn't be around much longer, buying
her new clothes made very little sense, but she said that Chloe might
like to come back again some time... and there was a sale on. So, somehow
we ended up leaving the mall with three new tops, two new skirts, and a
pair of 'the cutest trainers this side of the Atlantic' (according to
Ashley). I spoil my girls rotten, sometimes, but they both seemed so
happy and I didn't have the heart to say no.
As my two girls deserved a little more spoiling, we went for a burger in
the food court. My heart broke when Ashley announced she would have a
salad: she was watching her figure. She's a perfectly normal size, but as
she enters adolescence, she'll come under enormous media pressure to be
absurdly, obscenely skinny. Anger flooded me: where does the media get
off damaging young women like this? Then I remembered: I AM the media,
and I felt guilty.
"Yeah- I'll have a salad as well," said Chloe. As a boy, he hated salad,
and made fun of people who ate it (including me- hmmph). I wanted to cry:
it was silly, and I know I should encourage them to eat healthily, but I
don't want my daughters to spend their lives at war with their bodies.
"Ashley, your figure is fine. Have a veggie-burger or something. And
Chloe, sweetie: you've done a great job being a girl, and I'm real proud
of you, but obsessing about your weight is one girl thing I don't want
you to take on board, okay? You eat healthily, and get plenty of
exercise; you're allowed a burger now and then."
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want the salad. Instead, she
got a Kiddy Meal, and he specifically asked for 'the girl toy'.
Later, as we finished our meal, and I listened to their retelling of
their epic victory over Michael the Bedwetter, I got a text from Yvette,
who was wondering if we could give her a lift home. I said yes, and she
joined us in the food-court, along with the two girls, all of whom were
carrying handbags and shopping bags. Jane introduced herself to Chloe; I
think she wanted to see what the 'annoying little brat' looked like as a
girl. She said how cute he looked, and told us about their day, mostly
just hanging out in town.
Yvette wished her two new friends a fond farewell, and we returned home.
The girls played video games and watched TV with a surprisingly limited
amount of bickering- the new girls seemed to defer to Ashley more for
guidance on appropriate feminine behaviour. At seven, I was about to
start getting tea ready when... surprisingly, Yvette offered to help.
She was just chopping carrots for the casserole, when she made it clear
she wanted to ask me something. 'Muuuum?!' I still remember the first
time I heard that plaintive wail: it was followed by the phrase 'where do
babies come from?' I mustered all my parenting skills; at least I could
be pretty sure she wasn't pregnant.
Chopping away at my vegetables, I said 'Yes,' my voice desperately calm
and even.
"When I was hanging out with Jane and Denise they... they asked me if
there were any boys I fancied..." she started.
"We went through this the other night: just because you're being a girl
today doesn't mean you have to be into boys as well. I hope they weren't
bullying you. Girls can be subtle and vicious..."
"Right, but... then they started on about boys they liked, and Jane said
she like Jason. And I ummed and erred for a bit, but... is she really
into me- him, I mean? I mean, why wait until I'm... being a girl before
she says anything?"
"Well, a lot of girls find talking to boys difficult, especially at that
age- and don't look at me like that, young lady, believe me: these things
seem a lot different at 18 or 21 than at 15. She probably found it easier
to talk to you as a girl than as a boy."
"You think?"
"Believe me, I think she was using this as a chance to see how you feel
about her. When Jason gets back, he should ask her out; nothing major,
just spend some time together. And before he does, I'm going to have a
lengthy talk with him about how to treat women with respect..."
"I think he'll have a pretty good idea of how girls like to be treated
when he gets back..."
"Yes, I suppose he will..."
Time passed, and we ate tea; the rest of the evening was spent having a
nice family evening together, playing board games and watching DVDs. It
was time for the experiment to end: our boys had spent a whole twenty-
four hours as girls. The experiment was over: Jason seemed a little
relieved, Harry a little saddened. But how did they find the experience?
Harry: "I was scared at first, when you suggested it. Then I thought it'd
be a boring, wasted weekend. But it was fun. I got to try new things,
like dancing; and watching Molly Smith: Girl Detective. It's fun being a
girl- but fun in a different way to being a boy. I think people should
try both."
Jason: "I got to see a different side of myself. People treated me
differently as a girl; looked at me differently, talked to me
differently. Some things got easier, but other things were harder. I
found the clothes difficult, but there's more trust, I think, with girls.
They're more honest, emotionally."
So, it seems like the experiment was a success. I saw a new side to my
sons emerge, and I think they learned new ways of solving problems, be
they with bullies or relationships. Whether Dr. York's more involved
theories are true or not remains unproven, but I certainly think this has
been a valuable experience for all my family. However, I think the
closing word should go to Ashley.
"I had a great time today! I had a lot of fun with two new sisters. I
hope they come back soon. Much better than having two boring boys
around!"
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