The Mission - Chapters 4 - 7 free porn video

Disclaimer: This story is a work of complete fiction and my imagination. You will likely need to read the first part to understand what is going on. Thank you for all the comments and feedback! This is a hobby for me, so I don't get to write as much as I'd like with work and life. I didn't take as much time to grammar check this. Forgive any errors. Please do not use or re-post my work without permission. I can be contacted at [email protected]. Chapter 4. It's funny how school drags throughout the day when you can't wait to leave. It's equally as comical how fast the day goes when you don't want it to end. I had this thought near the end of my 7th period class. My mother called the school this morning and sent me with a sealed letter to give to the assistant principal after this class. I was able to read most of it through the envelope in the sun light. "Please excuse Jayce from his 8th period swimming class. He is under strict doctor's orders to refrain from physical activity until further notice.. Blah blah blah." I turned toward Patricia to brighten my mood a bit. She was busy listening to our history teacher drone on about our nation's rich heritage. "She's looking especially good today," I thought as I got lost daydreaming about what was underneath her long white dress shirt and black leggings. "I fail to see how staring at Miss Patricia will help you ace my quiz tomorrow, Jayce," I heard my teacher say in a humored tone. The class erupted in giggles and I'm pretty sure I could beacon a helicopter pad with how red I was turning. "Sorry, Mr. Upton," I said facing my eyes toward the front of the room. I could see Patricia smiling out of the corner of my eye. History was my forte, and I really only pretended to listen for the rest of the class period. Most of my remaining time in there was spent remembering my morning. I recalled waking to my alarm and jumping out of bed, only to feel the constriction of my push up bra squeezing the very life out of me. It took me no longer than twenty seconds to remove all the clothes I wore to bed. Fifteen of them were spent trying to get the stubborn bra off. I tossed the clothes in my hamper and made my way to my drawer to grab some boxers before I showered. The panties and bras on the right side of my drawer reminded me that I'd be wearing them all soon if I didn't think of a way out of this. When I walked into the bathroom to turn the shower on I couldn't help but scratch where the bra clung to me. The mirror confirmed red indents where the bra sat for the night. "The things girls put up with," I thought. That was about the time my Mom startled me on the other side of the door. "I want you to use your new products this morning, Joyce," She continued. "Shampoo, conditioner, and deodorant please. I was going to put your old stuff away this morning, but you beat me to it. When did you start waking up without hitting the snooze button a few times?" There was that name again. "I'm going to smell like a girl at school if I use this stuff," I whined. "Oh stop being a drama queen. No one's going to be able to smell you but yourself," she said dismissing my protest. "I put the lotion from your chest on your bed. Make sure you do your legs and body when you're finished drying." "Unbelievable," I thought as I started my shower water. I hoped the loud noise would drown anything else she asked me to do before I was safely at school. I climbed in and assessed my current situation as the water fell down on me. I had 4 days before I would see the Bishop again at church unless I called him sooner. I wasn't exactly sure how I would bring the whole thing up anyway. "Excuse me, Bishop Price. Why are you trying to make my parents think I want to be a girl?" Didn't seem like a great way to begin a conversation. I pondered if there was a way I could prove to my parents that he was planting things, or dig up something that proves he's a phony. The odds didn't seem to be in my favor right now. "I'll spend my 8th period free time today brainstorming my options a little more," I thought as I looked down at my shiny pink toenails. "At least I have plenty of motivation to figure this out." The impending loss of my masculinity depended on my ability to expose the Bishop's plans and corruption. "I'll see you in swim class, Jayce," I heard as I shook from my thoughts and looked up. Patricia was walking toward the door with Stacy while looking at me with a smile. I hadn't even heard the bell ring. "Oh. Yeah.. Swim class," I stuttered before realizing I wouldn't be there. "Patricia, hold up a second." I ran to catch up to them while ignoring the dirty look Mr. Upton was giving me on the way out of his classroom. "I won't be in swim class today," I said as I cried inside about not being able to see her in a bathing suit today. "Why not?" she said frowning slightly. "What happened?" I thought before responding. I didn't know if I should play the "Pity me, doctor's orders" card, or the naive schoolgirl favorite "I was a bad boy and now I'm in trouble," card. Unfortunately I couldn't think of any good reasons the school would take away only my swim class. "I'm under doctor's orders right now to refrain from anything strenuous," I said adding a sad tone to my voice. "Oh wow. Are you okay?" she said raising her eyebrows. "I think so... It's just until they figure out if it's anything serious or not," I replied perking up a bit. "I have to drop this note off at the office and wait to see what they want to do with me in the mean time." "Good luck with 'ass' Principal Fleming," Stacy chimed in giggling. I gave them the wide eyed - I'm walking to my doom look, before pointing two fingers at my head and feigning a pistol shot. The sound effects that came with the whole production made them giggle as they turned the opposite direction and started their trek to the pool. I might have stared at the girls as they walked away a little too long. Patricia's knowing glance back toward me put the goofy grin on my face that people are always embarrassed about when they realize they look like a goon. I turned as quickly as I could and made my way to the main office before I made a fool out of myself. The office was in the main building across a courtyard. Every time I finished the walk I wondered if the school's founders knew that my generation would be lazy and overweight and built the buildings a block apart for that reason. As I made my way up the steps to the main building, the way my jeans rubbed against my calves brought my attention back to my hairless legs. For some reason it made me think of the legs I was going to be missing in swim class today. The Bishop had taken away my favorite class period for who knows how long and I felt myself beginning to get annoyed. "Breathe, Jayce," I said to myself, knowing that I needed to keep a level head if I was going to figure this out and expose the Bishop for who he really was. I rounded the corner and made my way into the office and to the overly cheery receptionist women. "I'm here to see the assistant principal," I said with a dull expression. One of the office gals got up and eyed the envelope in my hand. "He's with someone right now. Please have a seat and we'll let him know you're here to see him," she said as she pointed to a row of chairs to my left. "I'm actually kind of glad I'm not here on different terms," I thought as I sat down. Our Assistant Principal was notorious for being a complete d-bag to the students and staff. These seats were empty for a reason. The students were more afraid of having to talk to him than the punishment he would dish out afterward. As if on queue I heard a door open and a freshman boy walking out of Mr. Fleming's office. The red in his eyes was a tell tale sign that he had just found out that the rumors were true. No one entered the doors of this school without a stern warning to avoid that office. I watched as the lady that helped me moved toward the office to let Mr. Fleming know there was someone else there to see him. I could see a nod and the lady turn toward me with a grim look on her face. "I hope you didn't 'break procedure' today," she whispered as she quoted the words with her fingers. "His Majesty Fleming the 3rd is on a roll today." I smirked and made my way around the counter toward his door. "I shall plead my cause before the throne," I responded in my best ambassador voice. A round of giggles in the office seemed to lighten the mood a bit. I walked through the doorway and saw Mr. Fleming point toward the door without looking up. I slowly shut the door and made my way to the seat in front of his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure.. Jayce, right?" he said as I sat down in the hot seat. "Yes, Sir," I replied with the firm understanding that this guy liked his ego stroked. "My mother sent me with this to give to you. I need to be excused from my 8th period class until further notice." Mr. Fleming looked at me sternly and grabbed the note I was holding out to him. "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume this is the swimming class?" "You are correct, sir," I responded with a nod. "Not the first person to hand me one of these this week," he said suspiciously. "But you are the first boy." He had opened the letter and began reading it. "Anxiety... Feminism... Feminine Hygiene... I gather one of these isn't the reason you can't swim today?" I cringed a bit as I thought about how close he actually was. "None of those, sir. I'm under strict doctor's orders to refrain from physical activity." "I heard something about a call this morning, but nothing was mentioned about how long this would be the case. You wouldn't mind if I gave your mother a call to get that figured out? "No, sir. She should be home right now if you need to call her," I said with confidence. "I may later today, but as you can see I'm swamped with disciplinary actions right now. Until further notice I want you to report to the study hall in the auditorium," he said while scribbling a note. "Take this to the attendance office and then make your way there." I stood slowly and took the note that Mr. Fleming handed me. He immediately went back to work and kind of reminded me of Willy Wonka at the end of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. If I'd had a gobstopper to put on his desk, I would have. I hurried passed the women in the office with a grin on my face. Once out the door I could hear two of them groaning and another celebrating. It sounded like a bet was made on whether I would be leaving with a similar look as the last poor sap to enter that room. The trip to the attendance office and to the auditorium was a quick trip as they were both very close to the main office. Upon entering the auditorium I made my way to the teacher that pulled the short straw for the 8th period study hall. "New transfer?" the older woman spoke. "I'm Mrs. J." I replied as I handed her my note. "Sort of... Hopefully it's a temporary thing." She read the slip from the attendance office and scribbled my name in her book. "Have a seat anywhere, but please refrain from talking or disrupting the study session." "Thank you, Mrs. J," I said with a warm smile. I made my way to an open seat as far away from distraction as possible. I only had twenty five minutes before the final bell rang and I'd have to head home. I got right to work on a list that outlined the issues I'd need to solve somehow. 1. My parents genuinely believe I want to be a girl. a. They found a large stash of girl's clothing and feminine products in my chest, and closet. b. A diary with my handwriting was found amongst the clothes and products that had entries making my desire to be a girl seem dire. c. My mother found videos on my computer that only incriminate me further and no doubt would be telling my father about that if she hasn't already. 2. They want me to dress and act as a girl while I am at home. a. None of my boy clothing or hygiene stuff is allowed. 3. They want me to see a therapist about my gender identity. a. I haven't been given a date or name of the person they want me to see. 4. Bishop Price appears to be planting evidence in different places to make my parents believe I want to be a girl. The douche is also trying to screw my mother. I drew an underline under my last sentence. Writing out the trouble I was in was the easy part. I sat for a few minutes alone just trying to think of something I could do to change the situation. Instead, my mind was wracked with more questions. Was there something else planted somewhere for my parents to find? What else was written in that damned diary. How long were my parents going to make me dress as a girl? The questions just kept coming and I didn't have any answers. The only thing that came to my mind was that I would have to continue telling my Mom and Dad that this wasn't what I really wanted. Maybe if I could somehow get my dad to turn on the Bishop, I could thwart his efforts to continue whatever it was he was planning. The best option would be for me to somehow prove to my dad that the Bishop lusted after mom. The problem was that my mother didn't want to be anywhere near the Bishop ever again. I would have to shelve this thought unless the Bishop came around again. The questions again flooded my mind. "Why in the world does the Bishop want my parents to think I want to change my gender," I tried to rationalize in my head. I couldn't get my mind off of this one question. It was like my inner being was dying to know why the Bishop was messing up my life if all he really wanted to do was screw my mom! It was then that I finally realized that I needed answers to my questions. I glanced at the clock and saw that I only had a couple of minutes left until the bell rang. I'd have to come up with a way to get answers on the way home. The bell ringing made me think back to my younger days when my mom would set a timer for nap time. It was the first time this year I wished I was playing a sport. Anything to prolong the time it took me to get home. I slowly grabbed my notebook and pushed it into my book bag. With my trademark Hercules grunt, I lifted my bag and began towards the exit. I was having a hard time on the way home staying focused on finding the answers I desperately needed. What I was going to have to wear when I got home, and what my parents meant when they said they were going to treat me as their daughter kept my mind on overdrive. The feasible options I could come up with was to speak with Bishop Price, or find evidence somewhere that proves it was him that planted those things. I knew deep down I would have a hard time confronting him about what he was doing. I was most definitely the non confrontational type. It also would be almost impossible to sneak into his house because it would have to be during school hours. As I set foot on the block my house was on, I remembered that the Bishop was always in the same spot at service on Sundays. I might be able to sneak into his office and see if I could find some answers I was looking for. If I couldn't find anything in there, I would force myself to call him later that day and attempt to record him saying something that alluded to his guilt. To my utter dismay though, Sunday was almost four days away. Before I could wallow too much in self pity, I could see my mother's car pull up in front of the house. She flashed her lights at me a gave me a Little Rascals wave. "Joyce!" she said, loud enough for the entire block to hear. "Help me carry this stuff in." "I'm terribly sorry miss... Have we met?" I joked, pretending to walk by. "Oh.. Yes," she said placing her hands on her hips. "I'm the lady you met at birth that wasn't going to make you wear the heels today. You know, the same lady that just changed her mind." "Mommy, forgive me!" I said turning toward the car and opening the rear door. There was a myriad of bags crammed in the back seat. "Dad should have cut that credit card up when he had the chance." "Lesson number one of being a girl." She grinned. "A man will give you almost anything when you wear a mini skirt and bat your eyelashes." I looked back at my mother and could see she was wearing her black tennis dress and white athletic shoes. My dad did always like it when she looked sporty with a feminine twist. It made me evaluate my life and reminisce on how my Dad didn't buy me anything without a huge lecture about making it on my own. There was generally an unspoken twenty dollar limit at that. "Mom... I highly doubt me in a dress while batting my eyelashes is going to get me a credit card with a ten thousand dollar limit." "Give me a week." My mother winked as she gave my nose a pinch. "Now grab some of these and lets go inside shall we?" I began to grab bags from several different retail shops in our mall. "Boathouse, Vanity, Hollister, Buckle, Wet Seal, and of course no shopping trip of yours would be complete without Victoria's Secret." "I know, Right?" She laughed. "I was going to surprise you with a wardrobe that any girl in your school would kill for, but alas; you've beaten me to the punch twice today. I may have gone a little overboard, but I just got so excited shopping for you today." My mind had stopped processing data halfway through her sentence. I should have known these were for me when I first saw them in the car, but my mind hadn't processed it in the moment. I mostly just stood there with a grim look on my face and imagined what it would be like to spontaneously combust. "I'll grab the rest of these bags. Bring these up stairs and put them on your bed. I layed out what I want you to wear today on your bedding chest," she continued in a giddy tone. I made my way up our walk on the verge of tears again. I could feel the anger building up inside me again, but I held my tongue at that moment because I saw my mother was on cloud nine. I knew better than to push her buttons right this second. I made my way into the house and up my stairs without knocking anything over with all the bags I carried. I noticed when I got into my room that there were a few dark garbage bags filled right beside my door. I laid the bags filled with "my" new clothes on the bed and immediately looked through my closet and drawers to find out what was in those hefty sacks. "No.. This can't be happening," I lamented. My closet was almost void at first glance, and when I ran to my drawers I was even more upset to see that the first three drawers contained only the clothes from last night. The bras and panties were in the top drawer with the skirts and blouses lying neatly folded in the second and third drawers. "Mom! Why are you getting rid of my stuff? I need my clothes for school!" I cried. My mother waltzed into my room with a fresh pile of retail contraband. "I put the clothes you need for school into the bottom drawer. There should be enough for a week in there." I ran to the drawer to confirm I hadn't lost the last specs of male attire in my drawers and closet. I was relieved to see my favorite jeans and t-shirts along with some socks, but as I turned the drawer inside out verifying I would have enough for the weeks ahead, I realized that there were no boxers or undershirts amongst the other clothes. "You forgot to leave me some boxers, Mom," I said not taking my eyes off the drawer. "It's not a mistake, Joyce. You're going to have plenty of undies to pick from after we get everything put away, but right now I need you to sit down on the bed and hold your tongue for a second," she retorted in an exasperated tone. I reluctantly stood and went toward my bed to sit. On my way around my bedding chest I could see what was laid out for me to wear today. It was the green and white floral sundress. Right next to it was the mint green bra and panty set. She continued in a calm but firm voice. "We already told you how it was going to be while you're at home. Your Dad is going to make some calls tonight about a therapist, and until we are advised on which direction to take, you don't have a say in this." I simply stared at the bags filled with my boy clothing and couldn't muster a response. My parents must have truly thought I was contemplating suicide for them to lay down the law like this. I glanced back at my closet while fighting back tears again. The heels were now sitting where my other sneakers used to be, and the only thing left hanging was was the black halter dress. My mother came to comfort me like she could sense the meltdown I was holding back. "I love you more than soft night pants right out of the dryer... We got so scared last night when we realized we'd almost lost you," she said as she stroked my hair. "You're not going to lose me, Mom," I replied as I felt the tears coming. "But please believe me when I tell you that this isn't really what I want." "Jay.. Joyce, sorry... I keep hearing you say that, but everything I'm seeing and finding is telling me otherwise," she soothed. "I read the rest of your diary today and I feel like I know you better now than I ever have." I silently cursed the diary that's been spreading the misinformation about me. I knew I'd have to figure out what was in there so I could maybe turn things around. A thought entered my mind that If I could get the diary, I could start putting entries in it that say I made a huge mistake and that I missed my boy life. "Do you think.. Maybe. I could have my diary back?" I said choking back the disdain I felt saying that it was mine. "Of course, darling! she said perking up a bit. "But first, let's get you closer to the real you I've been reading so much about." She playfully pushed me off the bed and pointed to the sundress, panties, and bra that was lying on my bedding chest. "Once you're dressed we'll start putting all of your new stuff away!" She stood up and shook her fists in giddy excitement. "I've been excited all day for this. Ever since I began shopping." I couldn't help but smile at sheer amount of happy that gushed from my Mom at that moment, but the smile turned into a look of sadness as I made my way to the clothing I was about to put on. I grabbed the outfit and headed towards my bathroom to change. I shut the door and placed the dress and underwear on my hamper while I glanced at the mirror. I took a deep breath and began undressing. With each article of the masculine clothing I removed, I reassured myself that this wouldn't continue for very long. I was going to figure this out and expose that prick that was messing with my life. My faith wavered a little though when I looked down to see my pink toenails and neat landing strip bikini line. My hairless legs and feet being another blow to the confidence I built while undressing. At least my manhood seemed larger with the loss of excess hair in the area. I'd have to groom this area more often when everything was back to normal. I reluctantly grabbed the panties and removed the sales tag from them. They were a mint green cheeky style from Victoria's Secret. I pulled them up my legs into place and tucked myself the best I could so I wasn't hanging out of the underwear meant for a woman looking for attention. The bra was a bombshell push up in a matching color. There definitely seemed to be more padding than the bra I wore the night before. It actually made me laugh a little inside. "What would it be like if men wore padded underwear," I imagined. After struggling with the torture device for a couple of minutes I was finally able to latch the bra in the back and adjust the straps for as much comfort as I could get out of it. The image in the mirror was a confusing one. I decided not to dwell and finish before my mother made another comment about taking too much "pretty time." The dress was made of a stretchy rayon material and it was one I could just step into and pull into place. It was tight enough to hug my contours, but still felt like I wasn't covered below my belly button. The slight flair at my waist gave the illusion of a curvier figure. I put my boy clothes into the hamper with the night clothes from last night and placed my hand on the doorknob. Even though I had worn obvious girly sleeping attire the night before, I still felt a bit of anxiety of being seen in a dress by my mother. My dad hadn't even seen me last night while dressed as I was so I knew it would be a big blow to his pride to see his son like this. I took a deep breath and opened the door before I let the thoughts consume me. My mother was rummaging through one of the bags from her shopping escapade as she turned to look at me. Her face contorted a bit and I could see she was fighting back tears. I just stood outside the door with a bewildered expression and my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said as she rushed to wrap her arms around me. "I had no idea the water works were going to kick in this soon. You're jus.. you're just beautiful." "Mom... Air.. Ow. I squawked as she relented her sleeper hold. Her hands were holding my shoulders as she just looked at my face with love in her eyes. "Goodness.. okay. I over reacted a tad. Let's get finished here before we do your make up and I give you a much needed pedicure." She ran to the bed and held up the bag from Victoria's Secret. "Did you buy their entire store?" I whined. "Half of these might... be for me." She giggled with a sly expression as she produced another bag from inside the larger. "This one is yours. Go ahead and put it all in your underwear drawer." She brought her bag to my door and set it down. It was about that time I noticed that the bags containing my male clothing were already gone. My mother must have put them somewhere while I was getting dressed. "This day couldn't really get much worse," I groaned to myself. I opened my top drawer and saw the remaining two bra and panty sets lying in the otherwise empty drawer. I began pulling the items out of the pink and white bag to place them inside the drawer. I could tell there was going to be a lot of items in the bag by how heavy it was. The first items I pulled out were Pink collection push up bras in a white leopard print and lacy black. As I was examining them and placing them in my drawer I could feel my mother behind me pulling my hair back. "Don't mind me, miss," she said playfully. "Your hair is long enough for this cute ponytail hairstyle I saw on Pinterest. You focus on putting your new undies away." I continued grabbing the items and placing them in the drawer while she fussed over my hair. I could feel her pulling some of my hair into a ponytail while adding what felt like a headband under the ponytail and around the top of my head... Thongs, boy-shorts, cheekies, hiphuggers, bikinis... "No girl my age could have this much underwear, Mom," I moaned. "I've got years to make up for in daughter spoiling," my mother beamed. I cringed as I put the last pair of panties at the top of the pile. They were lacy boyshorts with the word "tease" in glitter on the rear. All in all there was twenty pairs of panties and five new bras. I looked at the receipt that was still in the bag and almost fainted when I saw that she had spent $450 on the underwear alone. "Mom... This seems a little extreme, don't you think?" I said eying the receipt. "What if my therapist agrees with what I've been trying to tell you, and I go back to a normal life as myself?" "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Most of the stuff I bought will fit me too," She explained. "Now zip those lips and just enjoy yourself!" She snapped my bra like the night before and ran around my bedding chest to the bed to obtain a pillow for a shield. "Last night was a freebie... But you're not getting away with that twice!" I yelled as I pursued her to the bed. I was met with a pillow strike to my shoulder as I grabbed her wrist and began to tickle her side below where her bra sat. The struggle was on. For a solid 30 seconds I forgot what I was wearing and tickle battled my Mom for the title of tickle master. The last time we battled, my Mom ambushed me while I was still in bed before school. This time, with no surprise advantage, I was able to pin my Mom on her stomach while I tickled mercilessly. "Uncle... UNCLE! Joyce... I'm going to pee!" she screamed with laughter. "I shall relent! I said in my English accent. "But know ye that I, Joyce of the Upstairs room, am champion of tickle wars!" We both shared a good laugh before we straightened our dresses and sat to rest. "Let's get this all put away. I want to make sure your room is clean and your makeup is on before your Dad gets home." Chapter 5. "I didn't know my ceiling fan was that dirty," I said while my eyes were forced to look up. My mother was applying mascara to my eyes while I sat in my computer chair. "Make sure when you're doing this that you're careful. Getting poked in the eye by these brushes doesn't feel very good," My mother mused. She had already applied a powder foundation and light blush to my face. I had started to get nervous after the eyeliner and eye shadow. When she had sensed my discomfort, she told me that green eye shadow would match my outfit and she only had the mascara left to apply. Her words didn't do much to ease my tension. It just continued to build as the time ticked by to my Dad's arrival. I glanced over my Mom's shoulder to my closet. It definitely was not as barren as it was twenty minutes ago. The halter dress was now accompanied by five new dresses in different colors and styles. I frowned when I saw that my shoe collection had effectively doubled. Black flats, cowgirl boots, and a couple more pairs of heels were displayed on the lower shelves. She told me the white peep toe heels with the 4'' heel were guaranteed to get attention if I was looking for it. No thanks. I hadn't actually had much time to look at what she had put in the closet because she delegated me to put the skirts, leggings, and shirts away in my dresser. "Teamwork" as she put it. It was twenty minutes of leggings, long blouses, skirts, yoga pants, tank tops, and tights. Just when I thought It was over, my mother surprised me with a bag filled with hair ties, headbands, and a variety of bracelets and earrings. There was one single pair of jeans. "These will go great with your cowgirl boots," I remember her saying. They weren't exactly masculine and they had the bling on the rear (decoration only) pockets. I was brought back to the present when my mother lifted my chin and turned my head from side to side. "Let me just put some finishing touches to your hair before you oogle yourself in the mirror," my mother said smiling. She was parting my bangs so the gap was between my left ear to my right eye. There was a slight adjustment to my headband and she was finished. "Have a look, girl," she said pointing to my bathroom. I slowly stood and made my way to the bathroom mirror. My dress lightly touching my thighs as I made my way. The moment my image came into view I froze. I wasn't ready for how much the hair and makeup complimented my dress and fake curves. The bottom half of my hair was tied back into a short ponytail with a headband separating my bangs from the rest of the hair that spread out in all directions. My mouth hung agape at the way my eyes seemed so big with the eyeliner and mascara. I unconsciously turned my head and body from side to side to see the whole effect. "Dad's going to have a heart attack," I said quietly. "That voice is about the only thing that gives you away at this point," My mom chimed. "I want you to go to your computer and watch the video I saw last night about speaking in a feminine tone. I'm going to grab a few things and give you some pretty feet with a color that matches." The pedicure didn't sound all that bad considering my toes were already painted, but I wasn't exactly sure what it meant to speak in a feminine tone and I was reluctant to move. "Mom this is all so much for one day. Shouldn't we wait until I speak with this therapist before we take this too far?" I gulped. "Wait here.," My mother replied as she went back into my room. I could hear her rummaging somewhere in my room before returning with the diary of evil. I could feel my next big let down coming. She thumbed through the pages and cleared her throat before reading aloud. "It's been an agonizing past couple of days. I want to tell my parents, but I'm terrified what my Dad will think when he finds out I desire shopping trips and mani/pedis instead of football. Will he disown me when he knows his only son feels more comfortable in a pretty dress than in my jeans. How much longer can I go on trying to be what he wants me to be. What I wouldn't give to wear my sundress outside of my room. I long for the push I need to finally let go and be the real me," She smiled at me as she finished the entry. "Let's go soak those cold feet of yours in my warm foot bath," She commanded as she grabbed my hand and dragged me to my computer chair."I want you to watch that video and practice while I clean these feet up." I plopped back into my computer chair in silent defeat. Every effort so far was getting thwarted by this blasted diary. I saw that my mother left it lying on my desk while she went to fetch her foot bath. I grabbed it as fast as I could and opened it to read as much as I could before my mother came back. I started at the entry from the Sunday I met the Bishop. "In Church today I couldn't help but notice Josh Summerville was staring at Patricia from School. Every time I see him in his button up shirt my heart flutters. I felt the envy consume me. How I wish I could be the pretty girl that steals his attention. The butterflies I get when he glances my direction can get me higher than any drug." "Fuck.. Fuckity Fucking. Fuck. My parents think I'm into guys too!" I only whispered, but the words screamed inside my head. I could hear my mother on her way back so I quickly put the diary back on the desk and started logging into my PC. She entered carrying a small tub and a bag filled with what I assumed was pedicure supplies. "Lemme at 'em," She growled as she began placing the items in front of me. She then went to the bathroom and began filling the tub with water. About the time I found the video she was talking about, she was set up in front of me with creams and skin smoothing devices. "First your skin, then those pretty nails." I hit play on the video while my mother got to work on my feet and legs. The person in the video looked very much like a woman, but when she broke her voice and spoke with her normal voice I about kicked my mom in the face. "Watch where you're kicking those legs, miss!" she said sternly as she tickled my foot. "Mom!" I yelled as I jerked my foot away. "This girl... Or boy. Or whatever made her.. His voice change," I said astonished. I'd never heard or seen anything like it. I mean of course I heard guys attempting to imitate a woman, but this was on another level. "And you're going to learn how right now," she said while rubbing the heels of my foot with a stone looking thing. "You're Joyce while you're here, remember? No boy clothes, no boy hygiene, and most certainly no boy voice." I slumped a little in my chair slightly and continued to watch the movie. I learned that the pitch wasn't as important as the resonance. I listened as the girl on the screen went from a really high pitch to as low as she could go before the voice almost naturally settled into a feminine tone. She added that the trick was to squeeze the chords in your throat to successfully land at a female version of my own voice. "Give it a shot!" My mother smiled while she rubbed my calves with aloe lotion. My cheeks went red as I was put on the spot. Just another blow to my masculinity to try practicing a girly voice in front of my mom. The person in the video had given a few exercises and sentences to try while the video was paused. "Ahhhhhh ahhhhh ahhhh ahhh." My pitch went from high to low as the video suggested. "I sound like a clown, mom." "Keep trying while I get started on these toes," she said holding back her giggles. I followed the videos instructions while my mother went to work removing the pink polish on my toenails. I didn't try as hard as I could have because I didn't really want to succeed in removing another masculine identifier. There was almost nothing left to recognize me as Jayce from the outside and I was getting scared. It shouldn't have been a surprise to me by the way things were going today that by accident my voice would hit that sweet spot the lady-boy person in the videos was talking about. "Rubber baby buggy bum... Oh my God..." I stopped. I immediately covered my mouth with both hands and had the look of utter surprise the moment I spoke my first words in a feminine voice. My mother looked up and simply raised an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. "How much wood could a woodchuck chu... What is going on?" I asked with a look of panic on my face to my mother. "It feels like my voice is stuck!" "Calm yourself, love," She soothed "It's not stuck forever. I read about this today, and sometimes when the voice clicks it sticks for bit." "Ahh! No.... No. For how long? I have school tomorrow!" I whined. My mother had started holding back giggles as she applied the green polish to my toes.. Apparently the anguish mixed with my whiny girl voice was hilarious. I tried to glare at her, but something about my mom's laugh always commands a smile from my lips. I made a fake kicking motion to my mom's face as I waited for the smile to be removed from my face. "Mom! Please. I'm serious!" I said in the most serious tone I could muster with the alien voice. "Shhhh. Can you stop complaining for two seconds! We'll worry about your voice tomorrow morning if it hasn't swapped back by then. You should be able to control it eventually like the young lady in the video," My mother scolded. "So continue watching the video until I'm done here." My mother then got back to work on my toes as I reluctantly clicked the play button on the video. It went deeper than the sound of the voice and started focusing on inflection of words and vocabulary. It really surprised me how different men and women used their words. A slight change in emphasis and tone in a sentence, combined with words men don't use could turn a masculine sentence girly in no time flat. This was all quite a little bit interesting, and I found myself actually paying attention to the differences I never used to notice. I then learned that when feminine mannerisms were thrown into the mix, even a slightly manly voice could be overlooked. In her examples she would switch between masculine and feminine. It seemed like the mannerisms and inflection were just as important as the voice itself. It was all very eye opening to see what went into our gender identities. The video ended with a practice sentence and a link to a part 2. I was a little curious as to what else there could possibly be in a second video. The thought was interrupted by a pinch under my thigh. "Your mission for tonight is to try and emulate the feminine inflection and mannerisms you learned in the video. Stop thinking of yourself as a boy in a dress and act like the beautiful young woman you've always wanted to be. You don't have to act like a boy anymore while you're here," Her hands were on my knees as she spoke. Her eyes were genuine and I could tell that she was saying this like she was doing me a huge favor. Before I could debate a word, my mother was on her feet and hugging me tightly. "Your toes are done," she whispered into my ear. As she broke the embrace, I was able to see feet that could only be described as pretty. The shiny green toenails completed the outfit that was perfect for this Sunday; had I been born a girl. I stretched out my left leg and was even more surprised to see that my smooth legs only supported the feminine illusion. I ran my hand down my calf as if in a daze. "You're going to have to be careful around the boys with legs like those," my mother said smirking. I broke my trance and could only blush slightly as I let my leg fall back to the ground. I feared my lack of response and light blush might have portrayed the wrong message, but the clock on my desk had caught my eye. My dad was due home any minute and I looked like a girl from Pretty Little Liars. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of my dad seeing me like this. I knew that tonight would be a crushing blow to him and the plans he had for me. Two nights in a row he would have to watch his only son slip away from him, and none of it was something I actually wanted! If I had to endure much more of this I was going to need crazy pills. My mother had packed away her nail supplies and was walking toward my door. "Bring your homework downstairs and help me with dinner. This ran a little later than I hoped," she said before changing direction and turning toward my closet to grab the white cork wedge sandals. "I seem to remember a certain somebody ignoring me on the street today." "Was my desperate plea for forgiveness not enough for you!" I said standing and walking toward my book bag. Woe was me. Chapter 6 Tonight's menu consisted of crock pot roast and the usual starch and veggies. I was in charge of preparing the vegetables and setting the table. My usual routine, but tonight I was running behind. The shoes I was forced to put on when I reached the bottom of the stairs had me taking smaller steps to avoid injury. They weren't actually too bad to walk in, but it was definitely not something I was used to. This combined with the constant coaching and being careful not to get my "pretty dress" stained was slowing me down. My mother and I were chatting about my day at school and her addiction to shopping when I got in the fridge to grab the dressing we liked to dip our vegetables in. As my eyes were scanning the contents they came across the drink mixers my parents used. It reminded me that the Bishop was the reason I got to have my first Alcoholic beverage. It made yesterday's events come flooding back to me. I didn't know how much more of these feelings I could take. The drink he made was delicious. It just didn't taste that good coming back out the other direction. I felt like a light went off in my head when I remembered the twenty minute bathroom break that I wished I'd already forgotten. "That sly bastard," I whispered to myself piecing things together a bit. "Stay in school... What an asshole!" He couldn't have planned all of this on the pure chance that he would have free access to my room at some point! He must have slipped something into the drink to make sure he would have time to plant everything. My hatred grew even more for the Bishop that moment, but it also made it crystal clear to me that I wasn't dealing with a horny idiot. He had to have spent days or even weeks planning everything that was dooming me thus far. I let my mind trail to the situation as a whole again. How was I going to have time plan anything myself if I was constantly getting voice lessons, fashion advice, and girl talk from Mom? The Bishop was already ten steps ahead of me and I still had homework to do. "Grades aren't that important, right?" I whispered again as I bent down to grab the ranch dressing. Immediately I felt a sharp pain on my butt below where the panties rested. The shock and the pain made me stand upright and bang my head on the fridge cabinet! "Mom!" I squealed as as I turned to see her trying to cover her giggles. I rubbed my head while at the same time trying to ease the pain in my rear. Her giggles had turned into a full blown laughing fit when I gave her a death glare that rivaled any I'd seen her give. "Laugh it up!" I mused. My glare was turning into a smile the longer I heard her laughing. She was bordering tears at this point and I couldn't allow it any longer. I made a quick move to return the butt pinch favor, but she reacted quickly and grabbed my hands. The struggle that followed would have been a spectacle to watch. To anyone on the outside, it would have looked like a mother and a daughter having an epic butt pinching battle in their short dresses. The laughing and the squealing probably would have continued longer had we not seen Dad standing in the doorway with an odd look on his face. "Welcome home, Love," my mom said as she walked toward him and gave him a kiss. "Hi, Dad," I added, reminding myself that my voice was still stuck, and definitely sounding feminine. "Hey.. Girls," he said with a half smile. The half smile always meant there was something wrong. I was sure that a part of him died inside at that moment. The fun my mom and I were having was making it look like I was happy with the way things were going. With the way he was always on my case about becoming a man, I knew he was hoping this was all not true. "Shall we eat my loves?" my mother said, breaking the silence. We sat down to begin eating, and I was slightly relieved I wasn't pushed to speak too much. My dad was running a train on the roast and most of the questions and conversation was between my mom and my dad. "Did either of you need anything while I'm up? I'm grabbing some more veggies," My mother said when there was a lull in the conversation. "I'll have some more of that roast, hon," my dad responded with a smile. My mom walked by me and whispered in my ear on the way to the counter. "Cross your legs if you're not used to holding them together yet," She continued on her way. Looking down, I could see that I had unconsciously let my legs open enough to flash anyone if they were facing me. I quickly sat up in my chair and put my right leg over my left and adjusted the hem of the dress. The action caused my right foot to poke out the side of our dining table in view of my dad. He tried to pretend he didn't focus on the green polish and wedge sandals on his only son's foot, but I could see the pained expression on his face when he raised his eyes to mine. "How was school, Ja.. Joyce," He fake smiled again. "It went by quick today. I was a little bummed that I had to miss my swim class, though," I replied nervously. I knew every word out of my mouth didn't sound normal. To make things worse, I could see that the picture that the Bishop took had been replaced with another family photo of us at the park. I wouldn't be wearing those shorts or t-shirt at home for at least the next couple of days. "Hmm. I think it's probably best to avoid that class until we hear back from the therapist," my dad answered. "I'm going to call a guy I heard about a couple of weeks back during a conversation. Apparently he's the best in the state." I didn't really know what to say or how to respond. The therapist could be my ticket out of this mess, but I wondered what kind of conversation my dad was having that he would know the name of a gender specialist. Luckily, my mother returned and began telling my dad about her exciting day around the town's outdoor walking mall. She seemed in a very chipper mood and was telling my dad that she hadn't had that much fun shopping in a while. She was taking the brunt of the dinner conversation while I continued to lose my appetite. The food was delicious, but the growing nauseous feeling I was getting from my predicament was making me ill. "I'm going to get started on my homework if that's okay?" I asked while staring at my mashed potatoes. "Okay, honey," My mother said in soft tone. I could sense that she was a little concerned, but didn't want to push the issue. I grabbed my plate and uncrossed my legs to stand. I then smoothed the skirt to make sure I was being covered as much as I could before walking toward the sink; extra steps added to a menial task that I surely didn't want to get used to. During the walk to the sink I could hear my dad grunt the way he normally did when he got poked by my mother. "You look very pretty today, Joyce," My dad said hastily. "I uhh. Thanks.. Dad," I said with a sad look. His words stung me. For years he was pushing me to be a man of integrity. Being called pretty in a "super cute" dress, as my mother called it, was more than I could handle. I felt the tears coming, but began walking out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I'm not sure if they caught the raw emotion that was about to spring forth, but the way I walked from the kitchen with my arms swinging in haste probably looked more feminine than I would have liked. In the living area I let the tears flow, but I did my best to remain quiet and hide the sniffles. I was a complete mess of emotions as I grabbed my book bag and sat at the couch. I now had the motivation and time to work on getting out of this deep hole I was in. Homework was going to wait. In my emotional roller coaster I began my plan of action. 1. Figure out if there is anything else planted around the house that might reinforce a desire for me to be a girl. (Hide or destroy) 2. Read the entire diary and find out what my parents think I wrote. 3. Begin diary entries that portray my desire to continue my life as a boy. 4. Delete anything I can find on my computer that reinforces a gender identity issue. 5. Stop having fun while dressed as Joyce. (Avoid tickle fights.) These were the 4 things I could begin immediately off the top of my head. My next list was for things I would look for in the coming days. 1. Figure out the motive behind the Bishop's plan. 2. Try to find evidence that links him to the things that were planted in my room and on my computer. I was able to get about this far before I overheard my dad on the phone in the kitchen. I was actually surprised that they hadn't come looking for me after the way I exited the kitchen. I couldn't quite hear exactly what was being said. "My son.... Dr. Massey... As soon as possible... Joyce... Seems to be... Diary... Suicidal.. My dad must have walked out the back door at that point because I could no longer hear him. I didn't know what to make of the therapist situation. It seemed like a plausible way to reverse my parents decision since they seemed so dead set on what he had to say, but he would likely have an image of me I would have to change when I met him. I could hear my mother's humming move closer to the family room. I quickly grabbed my Biology book to pretend I was reading and made sure my legs were crossed before she came into view. "Hello, Sunshine," she said smiling at me. She had a couple of pieces of watermelon and it looked like she was going to share. "I scored some of the good stuff," she whispered as she sat down next to me, crossing her legs. "Anything interesting in the world of Biology?" I shook my head and nabbed the extra watermelon she brought. "You know this stuff gives me the shakes," I scolded. "Your dad is talking to the therapist. I guess he had to use the emergency line since the big shots don't work passed 5," she mused. "He comes highly recommended from the community." "Our community?" I questioned. "Oh.. No. The transgender community. Apparently people travel to see this doctor. Your dad had to call in a favor to even speak to this guy," she clarified. I thought for a second about what that meant for me. I figured since the doctor is good at what he does, then he wouldn't have a problem understanding that this isn't what I want. I just wasn't sure how much of the story I could let him in on. My own parents didn't believe me and still honestly believe that this is a true desire. I'd be better off saying: I thought I wanted this, but over the past few days I realized I didn't. Before I got too deep in my mental meeting with the therapist, I heard the back door open and footsteps coming toward the living area. My mother and I immediately stuffed the remaining watermelon into our mouths, knowing that it was my dad's after dinner stash. "I've finished speaking with Dr. Massey," he said as he walked through the entryway to the family area. My mother and I sat silently chewing. I succeeded in not looking guilty, but my mother had a clear 'watermelon thief' smile on her face as he looked at us expectantly. "I can't walk away for thirty seconds, can I?" he grumbled. "Anyway the doctor said that we should just continue what we are doing until he is able to see Joyce." "When will that be?" I eagerly asked. "Well.. As you can expect. The man is very busy. I was able to set you up for an appointment on Monday the 16th. I did the mental math in my head and that was a little less than 5 days away. I frowned slightly, but I knew it could have been much worse. If I failed at finding anything to prove the Bishop was ruining my life before then, Dr. Massey could be my back up plan. "He was a little concerned about you mentioning pills in your diary. It says you started taking them on Monday?" my dad questioned. "Do you have any more? He wanted to know where you got them, and if you've taken them the since then?" I had completely forgotten about the pills reference. I knew I had not swallowed any pills recently. "I haven't taken any more pills... I threw the rest away because they were shady," I lied, hoping this would end the subject of pills. My dad looked at me like he was trying to see any indications that I might be lying. "Well.. you did the right thing. he said that wherever you could have gotten them wasn't legitimate without a prescription." I simply nodded in deep thought. I remembered the pill I found on the floor yesterday. I must have left it sitting next to my keyboard. I'd have to move it before they found it sitting there and went looking around for more. "Can I speak to you for a second, Kristina?" my dad asked. "Of course, Hon," she said as she turned to me. "Why don't you head up to your room and get changed into your new comfy shorts and tank top jammis. I'll be up there in a minute to help get you ready for bed." I nodded and slowly stood, making sure my hem was covering me as I did. I began to place my Biology book into my book bag and recalled the literal pain in my butt from the pinch earlier. I bent my knees to avoid flashing my underwear as I finished packing it and made my way toward the stairs. My mother gave me a wink as I was making my way up to my room. I couldn?t help but smile remembering our pinch war. Once I got to my room I immediately began taking my shoes off. I placed them in my closet and shivered at the thought of wearing the ?attention grabbing? heels! I walked to my dresser and pulled out the pajamas my mother suggested. I was relieved that I would be wearing something other than the dress, but the pink plaid shorts and white spaghetti strap tank top would do little to make me look any more masculine. I began removing my dress and caught a glimpse of myself in my bathroom mirror. From a distance I could be mistaken for a girl, but my lack of waist and the slight bulge in the panties was a dead giveaway. I was glad that without the dress on, I could still see me underneath the makeup and underwear. I hung the dress back in the closet and started putting the shorts and tank top on. The get up as a whole seemed comfortable. The tank top clung to the bra and my skin as the shorts allotted some breathing room. I didn?t like how short they were though. Before I forgot, I made my way to my keyboard to find the pill that I found on the ground last night. I knew if I tried to hide it for later investigation, it would come back to haunt me. I took it to the toilet and flushed it after analyzing it closely. I would search the markings on the internet when I got a spare moment. I wasted no time doing a search of any obvious hiding spots in my room. Searching through all of the storage boxes and areas in my closet and drawers yielded no apparent sign of things that wasn?t already discovered by my dad. On a hunch, I walked toward my bed and lifted the mattress. I lost my breath when I saw items come into view. For some reason I didn?t think there would be anything hidden there, and instantly became relieved that my Dad hadn?t looked under here. Near the edge there was a pink vibrater and a bottle of lube. ?Apparently I?m not only into boys, but I?m a horny teen girl too,? I whispered to myself in sadness. It was like the Bishop was trying to paint me as some pop culture sex starved female. I turned my head to what looked like a corset and a prescription container with no label. I immediately grabbed the orange container and shoot it slightly. The bottle seemed filled as the contents shifted back and fourth. A sudden noise coming from my door made me panic and shove the pills back under the mattress and let it go. As the mattress dropped I could see my mother standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. ?Watcha lookin? at?? she said as she began walking toward the opposite side of the bed. I knew she was going to look no matter what I told her. Another night with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was looking imminent. I felt like a cornered animal. As she lifted the mattress there was a slight gasp from her mouth. I couldn?t think of anything to say. It was like the stars were aligning against me. ?You just told your Dad you threw these away!? she said in a disappointed tone. ?Please tell me you don?t have any more?? ?I.. I? was about to,? I said telling the truth this time. ?I was going to flush them before I saw you coming.? She grabbed the pills and the corset before noticing the vibrator. ?You?re more my daughter than I could ever imagine.? She laughed. ?I?ll leave that alone. Make sure your dad NEVER sees it.? I was completely frozen and my face was likely doing the beacon thing again. She began walking toward the bathroom, but placed the corset on the chest on her way there. ?I?m flushing these now,? she spoke. ?Come remove your makeup and put some moisturizer on your face.? I was relieved that my mother was getting rid of the pills for me. Other than the massive embarrassment of her finding a sex toy under my mattress, I knew things could have gone much worse. As she was flushing the pills down the toilet I began rubbing the makeup remover as she directed to my eyes and face. After handing me a wash cloth, she went into the bedroom and returned with the black corset. ?Where did you get one of these?? She questioned. ?I looked everywhere for something like this, and I quickly found they are special order.? Opening my eyes slightly to see my raccoon reflection, I looked her direction and saw it. I?d all but given up on trying to explain anything. I was finding that silence and a shrug was about as honest as I could be without incurring more wrath or diary quotes. ?It?s going to be part of the outfits going forward,? she said. ?Most of your outfits require a bit of curve to fit right. I was trying to find something like this today, but I kept getting referred to a specialty shop way on the other side of town.? My mother began lifting my tank top as I continued scrubbing my face to get every last bit of the makeup that remained. ?Please, Mom.. Not tonight,? I whined as she wrapped the corset around my waist. ?The corset will give you the waist you're so envious of. Patricia is her name, right?? She smirked. I definitely enjoyed Patricia?s waist and wide derriere, but I was most definitely NOT envious! I shook my head as she started lacing the waist trimming garment. It ended up right below my bra and tapered off right above my hips. Before she began tightening it, I made one last effort to stop her. ?Isn?t this kind of a waste? I?m just going to bed here in a few minutes, right?? ?Actually?? She smiled. ?This is a waist training corset. You wear them for extended periods of time to thin the waste permanently. You?ll see instant results while you?re wearing it, but over time it will get tightened as your body shifts. ?Seriously?? I cried. ?Mom. I don?t want that. Let the Dr. talk to you before you?? ?Hush, mademoiselle. She interrupted in a french accent.. ?You probably aren?t going to see any difference in 5 days. I?ll take it off in the morning before you shower. We?ll break this puppy in and see if you change your mind when you see your new curves! Now brush your teeth and put the moisturizer on your face.? I began brushing my teeth while my mother began pulling the laces. Things went from uncomfortable to borderline painful as I shined teeth. ?unf contf breave.. Eeeeeeeeh.? I couldn?t speak with all the paste in my mouth and lack of air. I tried to bend down to purge my mouth of the toothpaste, but the corset wasn?t allowing me to bend my back. I eventually backed into my mother and bent at my legs to spit and breathe. ?I can?t breathe!? I said breathlessly. ?Put your hands high up on the mirror and just focus on taking shorter breaths,? She instructed. Raising my hands higher helped slightly, but my mom took advantage of the extra room and tightened the corset even more. She eventually stopped to tie a knot after a pained grunt from me. After she was finished tying the device that was obviously designed for heated interrogations. She lowered my tank top and let me lower my arms. It was painfully obvious that I wouldn?t be bending my back or doing anything strenuous while this corset was laced. My waist did seem to have thinned a few inches. The way the tank top hugged me, and the illusion added by the push up bra gave me an undeniable female shape. ?There?s like no way I?m going to be able to fall asleep like this,? I said as I turned to see what I looked like from behind. In just a matter of hours, I?d gone from my normal self, to someone I?d mistake as a girl if I was following me. The smooth legs, the ?cute? feet, and pajamas that the feminine half of my school wore to bed; was already almost too much for me to bear. My mom grabbed me by the waist and turned me to the mirror. ?I?ll do the moisturizer since you?re too busy checking yourself out!? I was turned toward the mirror as my mother grabbed the face cream and applied some to my cheeks and forehead. ?You?ve only been at this for a day and I can already tell you?re a natural. She grinned. ?Your voice, the mannerisms? The way you walk when you?re mad!? I just stood expressionless as she rubbed the cream into my face. I had to be going about something wrong. I wasn?t trying to succeed or excel at being a girl. ?I needed today,? my mom said, venting. ?I never knew how much I would enjoy having a daughter around. It?s gotten my mind off of other things.. Ya know?? ?Is everything okay?? I said putting aside my own struggles. ?I?m okay? It?s just been a very weird and rough week,? she replied as she finished my face. ?You?re telling me?? I signed. ?Try not to stay up too late ?playing video games,? she quoted. ?I?m not convinced, with all of these new revelations, that you were ever really gaming? She pinched my butt again and went running toward the door. ?Love you,? she said with a devious tone. I began to wonder if the corset was actually her secret weapon to handicap me in our ongoing pretend war for the upper hand. Diabolical. Chapter 7. On a normal day, I would be at my computer desk, ?pwning n00bs,? as I called it. Given my current circumstance though, I was busy at my desk studying the Diary that seemed to be the most incriminating piece of fake evidence that was painting me as a hopeless transgender. The diary itself began at the beginning of January this year. The story goes that I began it as a New Year?s resolution to be honest with myself and write my desires. The beginning pages told a story of a younger me ?borrowing? my mom?s clothes to feel like a girl in secret. Cross dressing then progressed to an intense desire to become a real girl and everything stemmed from there. After finally finishing the months of entries, I was able to see why my parents were forci