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Little Miss Wonderful Janet L. Stickney [email protected] It seemed to be just about the craziest idea I ever heard, and flat out said no, but, as always, my sister has a way of making my no turn into a yes, which she was busy trying to do as I stood there, our mom beside her. You see, our mother had been entering my sister into beauty contests since she was very young, and over the years, mom had become obsessed with winning every contest. Her desires had nothing to do with my sisters willingness to do it, how much it cost, or even if it took away from the family. No. Mom had only one goal, and that was to win. Gina had been doing it for so long it was almost rote for her, but she began to dislike all the pageantry, practicing, and so on. It was cramping her social life, and she wanted out, so, on a lark, Gina had put my name on the list to be a local beauty contestant, figuring it would be a fun day and nothing more, then I was accepted! It had been no secret to Gina that I liked to dress up in her clothes, and even as children, I had tried on several of her pageant costumes, then later, Gina and I had even gone out as sisters, back when we were in high school, for a drive at night. All that meant was that I wasn't a stranger to wearing women's clothes, and in fact, I found out that I liked it, more than just a little, and probably would do it all the time if I could. In fact, once, when we were in high school, I had gotten dressed in my sisters clothes to provoke her, to show her how long she took to get ready, only at home you understand, then I saw that the time had run well past, and I had no time to change into my own clothes! After some cajoling from my mother, and with Gina laughing about my predicament, I had found the nerve, and gone to school that way. My prank had blossomed out, backfiring on me, and that's how I found myself in class, wearing one of Gina's short skirts and a tight sweater. Most of the guys took it well, because they understood a good prank when they saw one, and they all understood women using the bath for hours on end it seemed, but the girls, well, they did not like it. I found out later that the fact that I was able to "look almost as good" as my sister, had shaken their confidence in themselves. Gina was the only person that knew how I really felt, but kept my secret between the two of us. Gina is a real beauty, although she doesn't believe it, and even after she won the last major contest, she had a lot of doubts, but she was stuck between a hard place and a rock. Mom wanted her to move up, and because the winner of the latest contest, she was automatically put into the next show, which was a contest among girls from all over the state. If, and it would be a big if, she won that one, she would go on to the regional's, then to the national contest. The problem? The higher you go, the more that is demanded of the girls. The next contest had a talent portion, and Gina couldn't even twirl a baton with any degree of skill! Even after all the years of lessons, she couldn't sing, and worse, didn't want to. That always led to the constant fighting between Gina and my mother, which was ugly, and at times, almost dangerous, yet mom always seemed to win. Sewing was where Gina's talent lie, and there didn't seem to be much need for that in a beauty contest, which mom ignored, and pushed her so hard on the singing lessons I guess. I on the other hand, played a concert grand piano, and had won many awards for it. Between that, Gina's knowledge of my past stints dressed as a girl, and my her serious desire to quit the pageant scene, is why Gina was now after me to take her place. She wanted me to fill in for her. I could just see it. Me, tripping across the stage in heels wearing a thousand dollar gown, then trying to play a piano with long nails! No matter how much I liked being a girl, or maybe even wanted to be a girl, there was no chance that I would, or could, fill in for her! When Gina began to shy away from doing what mom wanted, mom became more and more insistent that she continue, which quickly turned into a stalemate. My sisters wanting to quit versus mom's obsessive desire to have her keep participating. Myself, I was proud to see Gina standing up to mom, because I knew that she had grown to hate those beauty contests, and quite openly sided with her. Then, when I wasn't paying attention, they joined forces. Since mom had, of course, seen me when I went to school as a girl, she knew that I might be able to fill in for my sister, if I wanted to, which is why they were both pushing me to take Gina's place. I always knew, or maybe felt, that I could do it, but I wasn't leaning that way, and like Gina, I hated beauty contests. So I simply forgot all about it. Now, here I am again, three days later, facing not only my sister, but my mother as well. In addition to having my mother and my sister harping on me to at least try it, the biggest problem I have is that Gina and I are almost the same size. We're both 5'7" tall, we both have green eyes, and while she weighs in at about 110, I weigh just 135. Our hair is the same color, and almost the same length. By the way. My name is Karl, but everyone calls me Keys, because I play the piano. Both Gina and my mom begged me to at least try on the gown Gina had for the pageant, but I stood my ground, and even though I more than liked the way Gina's clothes felt whenever I wore them, I had no wish to give my sister, and certainly not mom, any more ammunition than they already had. I walked away, knowing that they would try again, and I was right, they did, over dinner. After almost another hour of constant nagging, I finally gave in, but with the very firm statement from me that I would not, underline not, wear anything but the dress, and that was all! Then Gina said she dearly wanted to be there. "Just to help," she said, but I said no, and for once, mom backed me up. Mom also said that we would try on the dress in the morning, then she also said that, "I would wear whatever it took to get the dress on," and by the look on her face, I knew what that meant! What I wanted, didn't factor into mom's concept of me in a dress in any way. Golly! I could hardly wait! The next morning, right after breakfast, and without any fanfare, mom dragged me to my sisters room shut the door, and told me to strip, not to my briefs, but naked! According to mom, I should "get the feel of the dress," which in her mind, meant panties and a bra. I did as she asked, put the panties and bra on, then stood there as she slipped the dress over my head, and as expected, she couldn't zip it up. I helped get the dress off and started for the bath to put my clothes back on when mom grabbed my arm with one hand, the other holding out a corselet of some kind. My resistance quickly grew stronger, but with her evil eye, mom managed to make me stand there as she wrapped it around me, fasten the hooks, then laced me in almost tight enough to drag the air out of me! When she slipped the dress over my head that time, she was able to zip it up, and I had a chance to see myself, once more in a dress. The bright emerald green satin dress flowed over and around me, the waist, my waist, was trim, accented by the flowing skirt while the low cut top hinted at, but didn't expose anything. Mom used a brush on my hair, and almost without effort, she had turned me into a virtual clone of my sister! Dressing as a girl was one thing, but acting like one was entirely another, and beauty pageants are filled with real live girls, everyone of whom would probably cut your throat to win and move up. That's why I wasn't eager to dress this way. I doubted it could be done, and even though there was a rumor that some guy had made it to the finals once, I didn't even want to try that! Mom helped me get everything off, and I changed into my jeans and a tee, then left before mom or Gina could try and sway my answer. I left the room, went out to my car, and drove to the mall, just to get away from mom and Gina, but I couldn't get that vision I saw in the mirror out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried. Drawing on my resolute self denial, I walked around the mall, putting the idea of me in a dress out of my mind. Yet with each turn of my head I would see windows filled with sexy lingerie, shoes and dresses! It was as if I had fallen into a trap from which there was no way out. All those feelings I had repressed came flooding back, and I knew that the my walk in the mall had not helped. The woman inside of me was taking over. By the time I got home I was wound up tight, and went to my room, just to find some quiet. What bothered me most was how easily it had been for mom to make me look more than passable as a woman, better in fact, than Gina and I had ever managed on our own. But, there was no way I could just step in for Gina, just for the talent portion of the contest, the logistics of it would be terrible, even if I agreed, and it would be cheating anyway. Gina would have to find something to do, learn some talent, and quickly if she wanted to win. Well, Gina thought she could learn to sing, and began lessons again, all while she and mom began to create her costumes. I kept a low profile, and they never mentioned my participation again. Mom paid the entry fees, which were considerable, Gina kept practicing, although she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and life went on. With almost a year to go before the contest, we all thought that she could become good enough to get by, since she had so much time to prepare. My parents were divorced, and I had not seen my dad for almost ten years, which left my sister and I with mom. Gina and were "late babies," meaning our parents were older, our sister is a trauma doctor and is almost fifteen years older than we are, which meant that mom had plenty of time to spend with us. It also gave her time to get set in her ways, which both Gina and I found crazy at times, but we managed. About two months into Gina's singing lessons some nut waving a gun around ran into the building where her singing lessons were held, and also housed one of those dot.com outfits, then started shooting. He killed seven people in the dot.com office where he worked, but three slugs went through the adjoining walls killing two and seriously wounding another. Gina never knew what hit her. The bullet, smashed from contact with the wall, tore through her head, leaving her nothing but a standing corpse. The police found the man sitting in his office, surrounded by several guns, some explosives, and detonating caps, dead from a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head. In the aftermath of the tragedy mom and I coped the best we could. Gina and I, while we fought often, were actually very close, and I missed her terribly. Mom, while devastated, was, if nothing else, resilient. After a month of moping around, learning to live in a house that now felt empty, mom came to my room one day, with a suggestion. "I know you miss Gina honey," mom said, "and I know that you would do anything to bring her back, but she is gone, and we cannot change that. But, we can bring back her memory, if you're willing to try." "Try what?" I said. "I have her memory in my mind already mom." "That fee I sent in for her? Well, it's not refundable, I called and checked. They told me that they were very sorry about it, but no money could be refunded, no matter what. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." "What?" I said, not understanding what mom was telling me. "We all know that you can, with a little effort, fit her clothes, and I wondered if you would fill in for Gina. I know that she would be thrilled if you would do it for her." "Mooom!" I said. "There is more to this contest than just a talent portion, there is the bathing suit competition as well, and there isn't any way I could do that, even if I wanted to!" "I think there is, if your willing to fill in for Gina that is. But, if you don't want to honor her memory by doing this for her, well, we'll just lose the money and that will be the end of it." My mother was so good at laying on a guilt trip that it was almost impossible to feel good after she hit you with one, and this time was no different. If I said no, then she would lose the money, all of the costumes would be wasted, and she would never forgive me. If I said yes, I would find myself trying to look like a girl, in a competition that I had no business being a part of, and also, if I were discovered, run the risk of public humiliation and possibly jail time! It was a no win situation, and I was stuck right in the middle of it. Also, if I said no, I knew, from long experience, that mom would simply continue to work on me, adding to the guilt trip, layer after layer until I gave in, moved, or died. Relentless is the word I groped for. Yet, mom knew perfectly well what would be involved, so I realized that she had to have thought this all out before she approached me with it, but me? In a bikini? I had a simply awful vision of myself, standing on stage, listening to the howls of laughter that would certainly fill the arena. Mom left my room, leaving me grasping for some reason, some way, that would allow me to get out of hurting mom, and found none. It was after that when I remembered the time I had gone to school as a girl, and seen the way everyone reacted around me. No giggles, well, not many anyway, more of a quiet awe that silenced my buddies and made the girls edgy. That green gown I tried on just a short time ago gave me an enduring impression of myself that I couldn't deny, one that had stayed with me all this time, tickling my inner girl to no end. If all I had to do was wear the gown, play the piano, smile and walk nice, well, maybe I might have a chance. It was that one other item I would have to wear to have even the slightest chance of winning, and also, no chance of pulling it off. Bikini's had become the standard rather than the one piece suits of past, which meant there wasn't anyway to hide anything! I had made it very clear that I wasn't all that thrilled about wearing women's clothes, but inside, I knew that was a lie. I had enjoyed it, more than I wanted to admit, even to myself, which is exactly why I'm in this quandary now. If I agreed, then mom would certainly figure it out, and maybe, everyone else, especially the rest of the family! Mom had put it on me hard, and she knew it. Now it was up to me. If I told mom I would do this for her, to honor Gina of course, how could I tell her without sounding like a simpering wimp, which is what I felt like when I finally decided to at least try it. Getting up and leaving my room I had to pass by Gina's room, the scent of her perfume still filled the air, making me swoon for a moment when I half expected her to come walking out. Her bed was made and her closets still full of her clothes, all the dolls were in place, the posters she cherished on the walls, her locket still on the nightstand. It brought back terrible memories and I quickly went down the stairs, looking for mom, and when I found her, I told. "Okay mom, I'll do it, but ... ." "I knew you wouldn't let us down," mom said, before I finished my sentence. "Gina would be so ..." "Mom!" She stopped talking and looked at me. "I'll do it, just to see if it's possible, but if it's not, then I'm out, and I don't want to hear any more about it....okay? Deal?" She didn't like it of course, but she agreed. During my decision making time, I had forgotten just how sneaky mom was, which would come back to haunt me later on, but I was committed, and mom told me that we would begin the next morning. Later, while I was out, mom must have gone somewhere to get stuff that she knew we would need, but I didn't find that out until morning. The next day, right after breakfast, mom and I went to Gina's room. Mom said that I should get used to it, since she wanted me to move into her room since she thought that I should feel like the girl I was supposed to be. Stripping my clothes off, I did not expect it when mom handed me the bottle, pointed at the bath, and told me to follow the instructions to the letter, shave close, wash my hair, and she would be back in 45 minutes! One look was all it took for me to see the name on the bottle, and with a sigh, went in the bath. When I finally stepped back into the bedroom, I was hairless from the eyes down, and I felt more naked than ever. I had to use the lotion mom gave me, and my skin, already smooth to the touch, became softer, and even smoother. Wrapped in a towel I saw mom walk in, then, without any fanfare at all, she handed me some panties, which covered me and made the problem worse all at the same time. Taking a moment, I turned away, and fixed things so that at a minimum, I wouldn't embarrass myself. After that came the bra, a 36A, then a waist nipper, camisole, pantyhose, the blouse, and finally, the red and white plaid skirt. The pantyhose made my legs look longer, and sexier, and to my continuing surprise, they had a great shape to them! The bra was one of Gina's, a Push-em-up that seemed to grab the flesh on my chest, gather it in one place, and filled each cup almost full! Mom handed me a pair of short heels that I could see were new, and took me to the vanity. Mom wanted to help, but I pushed her away and grabbed the foundation. As I drew it on my face mom merely watched, but when I reached for the eye shadow, she stopped me, and handed me the powder. Before I could start with it she put a sheet over my clothes, then told me to powder everywhere I used the foundation. When I dusted it off, my face had that smooth flawless skin look that so many girls have, and without even thinking about it, I smiled at my reflection. After that came eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner, blusher, and finally, lipstick. Without even standing up I knew that I no longer looked like myself, but not Gina either. Instead, close, like sisters. Then mom started in on my hair, using a brush, the blow dryer and curling iron to create a very feminine hairdo that was wavy without being crazy, with short bangs swept to one side. As mom moved away I stood up, turned, and looked in the full mirror. Long sexy legs, a trim waist under the swelling of my own breasts, then my soft auburn hair framing a pixie face that I always knew deep down would turn out this way. I had never before looked this good as a girl. I was at a loss for words. Mom and I stood there for a few more minutes, then she took my hand in hers, and we went to the kitchen, where I saw that she had put out her nail kit! I sat there quietly as mom filed, cleaned, and painted my nails a soft pink, then put gloss over that. By the time she was done there wasn't the slightest doubt in anyone's mind that I could do this, as long as I didn't have to wear the swimsuit. Then it came to me! "Mom, just how can I do this? I mean, Gina's death was widely reported, so the girl that came in second would be the one to fill in for Gina, not me, and if that's true, why am I doing this? I'm not eligible!" "True, you're not eligible for the competition Gina was up for, but you are eligible for the one being held two months from now, which, when you win, will make you eligible for the same contest Gina was going to be in!" Grinning, mom added ... "You see? You still have plenty of time to prepare, and the fee I paid won't be lost, and this way, you'll be able to participate in both contests!" I told you mom was sneaky. She had not told me that I would have to qualify by winning the next one, she merely assumed that I would not only enter the competition, but that I would win it! It was hopeless situation, and because she had held back certain facts, I should have quit right then, on the spot, and told her I wouldn't do it, but I didn't. I almost did, the words were on my lips, when something told me to be quiet. Whatever possessed me to stay silent, was now in charge of my life, and worse, I knew it. I told myself that just because I didn't mind wearing the clothes didn't mean anything, but I was wrong. I just didn't know it at the time. I knew, from being around Gina during her stint as a contestant, that the mothers, and sometimes even the girls, were mean, vindictive, self centered egotists, with winning the only thing on their minds. If they ever had a hint, the slightest clue that I was not what I said I was, I would be lucky if they only shredded my reputation. Mom wasn't even concerned, but she wasn't the one that would have to do this, that was me, and I didn't have the background of a woman. I would have to become as graceful, soft spoken, and feminine as the other girls were, just to compete, let alone win. It felt hopeless, knowing that I would have to conquer all that in just a few months. Standing, I saw my reflection in the hall mirror, which once again told me that I had at least a small chance. Without a word mom found a purse, handed it to me, and told me we were going. When I asked where, all she said was that I needed a little help, and now was the time to get it. In the back of my mind I had an inkling that this might happen, and when we pulled up in front of my sisters office, I was certain I knew what mom had in mind. Once again I didn't say a word, even as my sister let us into her office. Jill is married, with two small kids of her own, but she still held onto her youthful good looks, and her smile was dynamite. "Mom says that you are going to try and win the title that Gina was after. That's nice, and I'm sure that she would have loved the very idea of you doing this for her." "Jill, what am I doing here? I mean, I'm not sick, all I'm doing is ..." "I am going" Jill said, "to help you look like a girl silly! Just some small implants and a bit of manipulation, and presto, you'll be a girl, or at least look like one for a while anyway, and don't worry, it can all be reversed. Except for ... " "What?" I almost screamed. "What can't be reversed? Your not going to cut ... " "No! Certainly not that! The only thing that cannot be reversed will be the laser removal of your body and facial hair, but that's messy anyway, and you'll never miss it." Jill sounded very sure of herself, and once again I was being moved another step closer to being a girl, but this time, according to Jill, I would look like a girl when she was done. Then she surprised me by taking me, leaving mom behind, to another office, to see a friend of hers that was a plastic surgeon. Once the preliminaries were done, he had me undress and lay on a table, telling me that I would be there for at least one day, maybe two, before I could go home! He had me sign a form, then I felt the needle as it slid into my arm. As the darkness fell around me, I wondered what in the hell I was doing, but I was out before my mind had a chance to answer. I had many chances to back out, put my foot down, say no, whatever, yet I willingly signed the consent form. At the time I must have been out of my mind. When I awoke, I ached all over, I was wrapped in bandages from my pits to my hips, and every square inch of my skin hurt! I tried to sit up, couldn't, but later, when the nurse came in, she helped me up. There was no doubt about it, I had boobs, and even though they were wrapped tightly, the swollen mounds on my chest were a sure sign that the doctor had made me look like a girl. I was back at home within a few days, and spent the next week wrapped up like a mummy, and although the swelling in my face had gone away, both eyes were black and blue, my nose was just a bit smaller and my cheekbones a bit higher, but all in all, I felt okay. The biggest change had to be the fact that I had to sit to pee, because all traces of my manhood were gone, replaced by what looked like a normal vagina! On Saturday morning Jill came over and removed the bandages, which is when I saw my boobs for the first time. When Jill helped me to my feet and I was able to look in the mirror, I saw a pair of breasts that any woman would have been quite happy to have. A full B cup according to Jill, they had almost no sag to them, the nipples were pert, surrounded by a larger aureole. My skin was smooth as glass, and soft to the touch. I let my robe fall to the floor, and I saw that my waist was just a bit thinner, my hips a tad wider, and there was no doubt in my mind that after I healed up, there would not be any question of my true sex. Looking at Jill, she merely smiled, and helped me get dressed. It felt very weird to be able to wear a pair of panties, and have them fit so well, and the bra, well, I filled it to capacity with some left over. The blouse and skirt were next, then the flats. My hair was a mess, and I sat down at the vanity to brush it out, not create a hairstyle, but Jill stepped in and added a hair band that did the trick. Just some lipstick, since no makeup was needed, and we walked out of Gina's, or rather, my room, to see mom. My walk was different, and I noticed a decided swing to my hips, but most of all, I could feel my boobs bouncing in the bra with every step. It was a very weird feeling. As I stood there in front of mom I realized that I was no longer in denial. I had envied Gina for years, her femininity was almost overpowering, yet she had a gentle way about her that defied explanation. I had always wanted to be a girl, and I knew it, right after I went to school dressed that way. Only my male pride kept me from revealing that, and ever since then I had denied my attraction and desire to be a woman. That's why I never once put up much of a fight. Not because of some pageant that I may or may not win, nor for the memory of Gina, or even to save mom the entry fee she paid. It was for me. It was a way for me to become the woman I had become when I was in high school, and dreamed of ever since. Everything about me was different on the outside, from a smaller nose to my wider hips, rounder bottom and breasts, and I just could not help thinking that I was the luckiest woman in the world. Yet, I found myself wanting to revert, to deny what I felt, to let my male pride back in and say that it wasn't for me that I allowed this to happen, but for my sister. Mom looked at me carefully, saying nothing at all while Jill stood with me, sort of reassuring me. Nobody said anything for a moment, so I swallowed my pride, and simply let the feelings I was having take over. I let myself become a girl. It was as if I had let go of a huge weight, and my entire demeanor changed, I could feel it. I went in the kitchen to make breakfast, with mom and Jill right behind me. All of us would have to find a way to cope with the new person I had become, but when Jill reminded me that I could return to my manhood at any time, I almost blurted out the truth. At that moment in time, I did not want to be a man. After we ate, Jill went home to her family, leaving me with mom. She must have known something was up, because she did not pester me at all, and I went back to my room. Closing the door I undressed so that I could see once more what had become of me. My hands held my breasts, soft and pliable, a bit tender, but they were mine. As my hands flowed over my body, my finger traced the outline of my new sex, folding back the skin to feel the softer, inner folds. The stubble of the hair that had been removed would grow back, causing me some aggravation, but it was worth it. I went in the bath, took a shower, and when I stepped out, I felt refreshed like never before. I took my time getting dressed, wearing only panties as I sat at the vanity to do my makeup. I had to use the cover stick to help hide the bruising around my eyes, but I took my time, savoring the feeling that I now had the right to wear makeup, without any shame at all. Pantyhose, then a bra, and as I looked in the closet, I saw the outfit that I always liked on Gina. A white and brown checked pleated skirt, with a tan pullover. The only shoes I had that matched were my penny loafers, so I put those on, then sat to try my hand doing hair. I managed to create a sort of flippy pageboy combination with bangs. Pale red lipstick, perfume, and earrings completed my "look." I found the brown purse, then, by accident, Gina's wallet. Since it had all sorts of ID in it, I put my stuff in her wallet, along with my lipstick, took the purse, and went back to the kitchen. Mom took one look at me, and burst into tears. I knew why, it was because I reminded her of Gina. Mom would have to cope with that on her own, and all I could do was kiss her, hold her hand for a moment, and hug her. Then I left the house. I needed to have makeup of my own, and I needed help with my hair. I went to the salon that both Gina and mom used, went in, and waited until I could be taken. We talked about what I needed, then I let the stylist have a free hand. I had my nails done as well, then, after they were done, I went to the mall to find one of those makeup shops. By the time they were done with me I looked and felt like an entirely new person, which I was, but I not only looked good, I felt better about myself. From there I went in and bought new panties, a few bras that were little bigger or better cut, then I went into the department store looking for a bikini. I had to satisfy myself that I could even wear one, not that I didn't look like a girl, but rather, could I wear it and not feel naked, or worse, be unable to feel sexy wearing it. I tried on several before I found one that look similar to those I had seen before. In a bright red, the color contrasted my skin nicely, yet there wasn't enough material to cover a mans shoe! But, it did fit me, and didn't look totally geeky, so I bought it. Then I went home, dreading the reaction I would get from mom. My hair was no longer auburn, but blond, not straight but with waves that framed my face. My once short nails were slightly longer, with rounded ends and painted a plum color. With my new makeup, I was no longer the scared boy, but a woman, and I was no longer afraid to be that woman. I saw mom in the family room, and walked in, stood in front of her, and waited for a moment, then she smiled. "You're simply beautiful Karl! Turn around and let me see!" I slowly turned around, then facing mom again I motioned for her to sit down. "From now on you'll have to call me Ann mother. Karl doesn't seem to fit any more does it?" "Ann," she said, "such a pretty name. It suits you." The air grew thick between us, as I knew that I would have to tell her how I felt and why. Also, I did not want to be in any beauty contest, but I would do it if she asked me, which is why I bought the bikini. "Mom," I said, "I have something I have to tell you, I ..." "Have always wanted to be a girl, and now that you are, you love it. Right?" Nodding my head yes, I also told her that I thought beauty contests were nothing more than glorified peep shows, then waited for the inevitable harangue about what I had said. "I knew that Ann, and that's why Jill and I gave you so many chances to back out. Losing the money would have been hard, and if you didn't want to do this, all you had to do was say no. You didn't, so Jill made the arrangements for those alterations, and even paid for them. Since we both knew, or at least felt that you liked dressing as a girl, we merely gave you the chance, and you took it. If this is how you want to live your life, well, I won't stop you, but as pretty as you are, I do hope that you reconsider trying out for the contest." "I'll think about it, but I'm not keen on it mother." Mom dropped it, but we both had a lot of adjusting to do yet. I mean, just a few days before I was her son, then I wasn't. I had achieved something that I had thought of often. Now all I had to do was live the reality. Each day, as I grew more and more comfortable with my new body, learning how to cope with having boobs that restricted the way I did almost everything, and having lost the ability to stand for relief, I also began to weed Gina out of my life. Not her memory, but some of her clothes and other items that always caused me pain when I saw them, like some of her jewelry, and a few of her dresses. Those I simply put in mom's room. At the end of two weeks I had managed to try on all of the clothes, keeping only the ones that I could wear, or wanted. I had also tried on that bikini three times. Each time I looked at myself wearing it, I found just one more thing that let me accept the fact that I really did look good in it, and I began to feel that competing might just be a way for all of us to accept the death of my sister. When I told mom that I would do it, she became like a general. She carefully took my measurements, then we went shopping for gowns of my own, since I refused to wear my sisters. Then I began a rigorous schedule of learning how to walk, use my hands, speak and so on. Five hours every day, plus my piano practice. Learning how to stand tall, walk with a smile, point my boobs out, and not look or sound like a total air head like so many of those other girls do. Mom and I worked hard, and as the day drew near I seemed to calm down, and accept what I had to do. I had selected my music, had the gowns fitted, bought the right undergarments, took a lot of bubble baths and used what seemed like gallons of lotion to make my skin soft and supple, until I knew that I was ready. On the day of the beauty contest, I wore jeans and a plain top as we entered the hall, and were met by a woman that informed mom and I that every girl had to meet their doctor. She said that every girl had to strip, to prove that no males were entering the contest! She looked at me, and said that I wouldn't have to worry, but since their was a rumor that a man would enter, they were taking no chances. Laughing inwardly, I went to see the doctor, stripped, and without so much as his finger touching me, I was accepted. They had no idea. The scene backstage was pure bedlam, then, when it was my turn, I walked on stage in my gown, answered the few inane questions posed to me, and later, during the swimsuit portion, I did what I had to do, smiling as I walked down the stage and onto the small promenade, turning so that everyone could see all of me, and when it was done, I never felt so cheap. I came in second that day, which meant that I would not move up. I didn't feel all that bad about it. Mom and I went home, then I sat in my room to make a decision. If I wanted, I could go back to being a man, but I liked being a woman. I just hated the idea of beauty contests that arbitrarily selected winners based on some notion that a woman's figure was a sure sign of her intelligence or some such nonsense. But with my talent as a pianist, I could go on, as a woman, and nobody would care. But I needed my own identification. Using Gina's ID was killing me because I couldn't let her go, and kept me from feeling that I couldn't finished my grieving. Within a month our lawyer had changed my name, and I had a new drivers license, the name Ann Marie boldly written, declaring that I was a woman. During the next few months I applied for several scholarships, and was accepted at a prestigious music school, starting that fall. Mom hated the idea that I was moving away, but we both needed the time apart so that I could become the girl that everyone thought I was. How I adapted my personality to the new me was important to me, so I was glad to be able to leave for school. I was well past being comfortable in my new body, and I had come to adore my new shape, but my social skills as a woman were ... well, lacking. I had never had any interaction with a guy, although I couldn't deny that I thought of it. After all, I had a cute body, and was reasonably pretty, so it was logical for me to feel that way. As I packed my clothes, I came to that bikini, and without any hesitation, I tossed it into my suitcase. Mom and I did not have a tearful farewell, and I looked forward to my future. After two weeks in school I met a guy, and we started going out. He played the oboe, and we shared many classes, which is how we met. Gary was the one that led me to my true femininity, slowly, and tenderly, until I reached the point of no return, and helped him find pleasure in the only way I could. Something that I never envisioned myself doing, it was, none the less, quite pleasant, and I didn't hesitate to please him when the need arose. During that time I came to realize the gift that I had been given. I was the woman I always knew I wanted to be, I had a guy in love with me, and I felt whole. I also knew that Gary, or another, would want more, need more, if I were to get married, so I called Jill. You have all heard of me, I'm a concert pianist with many albums to my credit, and along with my husband, we hold a spot on the "A" list within the musical community, but to tell you who we are would give it all away ... wouldn't it? The End © 2001 by Janet Stickney