Lessons Learned free porn video

Lessons Learned Janet L. Stickney [email protected] When I walked in the house and saw my parents sitting there, you could have killed me with a feather! They weren't supposed to be home, so I had gotten dressed and gone out with my best friend to a show. We traded stares for a moment, then I started for my bedroom to change and go to bed. Wait a minute young...lady," came dad's voice, "come back in here right now!" Now, since I am their son, you can guess how I was dressed. I had on a short plaid skirt with a simple white blouse and low heels, my hair pulled into a ponytail with a green, lacy elastic band to hold it in place. I wanted to go to my room, but that option was obviously out, so I turned and walked into the family room, standing just inside the room as they both looked at me. "Just why are you dressed like that?" dad asked. He didn't sound pleased. "I...um, I had a...I went to..." "Out with it!" Dad sounded more intense than before. "I...um...had a date." "A date?! You went on a date? Dressed like that?" Dad was almost roaring by then. "Just who did you have a date with dear?" Mom sounded a lot calmer. "Um...Bruce. He took me to the show." "Bruce? Your best friend Bruce?" dad asked, "He took you on a date? With you dressed as a...this way?!" "Well, yeah," I said, thinking it should have been obvious. "What else do you and Bruce..." "Go to bed honey," mom said softly, interrupting dad, "we can talk about this tomorrow." Believe me, I trucked to my room as fast as I could, and quickly undressed, washed up, and went to bed. But sleep eluded me for a long time as I wondered how I was going to die. Dad was tolerant to a point, but seeing me dressed as a girl, then finding out that I had a date, well, he didn't take that very well at all. I could only imagine what he would do next. I was very tired from all the worry when I finally got up and staggered to the kitchen for some coffee. Mom was there, dad was gone already. "You looked very nice last night," mom said calmly, "care to tell me anything?" "Like what?" I asked her, knowing that was the wrong thing to say. "Like what? How about telling me about the girl we saw last night! Those clothes, and your makeup for example!" "Dropping my elbows to the table..." I bought them, with my own money, and I always wash my own clothes, so..." "What name do you use then?" "Pam...Pamela," I said, "why?" "Regardless of whatever you might think, I always knew about your dressing up, I just wasn't sure how you looked. Now I know." With a sigh... "Your father doesn't know what to do about this, but he made it clear last night that he wants to talk to you about this, and I'm thinking that it would be better if you were to become Pamela for that talk. That way he can see you in the daylight, and just maybe his judgment might be different." I didn't say anything, but being dressed when dad got home wasn't the highest thing on my list. Looking at mom, all I saw was her placid face, watching as I decided what to do. Then, right out of the blue, mom told me to go get dressed, and to wear the pink skirt with the white top, telling me that she thought it might look good on me, given my skin tone, then added that since she knew I didn't have white heels, so as soon as I was ready, she and I would remedy that! I was completely dressed within the hour, and for only the second time in my life, my mother saw me dressed as a girl. Standing there like that while mom looked me over was unsettling, but she didn't comment until at last, she said it was time to go. While mom seemed calm, I could tell that she wanted to say something, and when we pulled into the mall parking lot, she finally did, but it was a question. "Can you," she asked me, "tell me how you manage to create breasts?" "No problem mom! I use birdseed filled nylons that I weigh to make sure they are the same." "What about your hips?" she asked. "I don't do anything, why?" "Well," she said softly, "given how your father is, and I am not promoting this mind you, but if we could find a pair of inexpensive breast forms and a padded panty for you, I'm thinking that the better you present yourself, the less aggravation he'll give you, and I think we can find the money in the budget to get them for you." "I have some money of my own mother, so, if we're going to buy some breast forms, I would rather spend a little more and get some good ones. I'll pay for them, but that'll break me." "I think I can manage the rest then," mom said, "but obviously, you know where to buy them, so where do we go?" I told her. The breast forms I bought were very lifelike, and the color match was extraordinary, especially when the woman attached them to my chest with the adhesive. She told me that I could remove them at any time, but also, they could remain in place for up to two months before I absolutely had to take them off. Then she showed me how to get them off and clean them. As a bonus, she also sold padded panties in varying sizes, which made it easier for me to get the shape just right for my body. Mom waited while I put everything on, then we left for the mall again. I was in heaven knowing that I had breasts that were a part of me, and while I knew that dad was going to go ballistic, I would always have them, even if they were in a box. We bought the white shoes, and expecting to leave I was surprised when mom walked across the concourse and into a dress shop. When I caught up to her... "I know that I sound like a broken record honey, but now that you have those, I was wondering if we might be able to find a dress that will let you show off a little. Just this once mind you," she said, "but why waste all that money? Most girls your age like to be able to display their charms once in a while, so why not?" After a pause, she added, "Besides, now that you're dating, I can't see any reason not to. Can you?" Who was I to argue with my mother? I had been in this same dress shop many times, always as my male self, and I knew exactly the right dress, so I went straight for it, pulled it off the rack, and showed mom. With her finger, she pointed at a changing booth, so I went in and quickly put the dress on. When I stepped out of the room and looked in the tall mirror, I knew that I had been right all along. The dress was perfect! A sheath, it had a pair of shoulder straps to hold it up, with a low square neckline, was sleeveless, and the hem was about two inches above my knees. The black material hugged me closely, and I knew that I just had to have it. Looking at mom, I saw that she was simply shaking her head as I went to take it off. Mom paid for the dress, then we headed back to the shoe shop where I picked up a pair of black patent leather heels. On the way out we stopped at one of those cheap jewelry shops where I picked up a pearl necklace and earring set before we went home. With several hours before dad was to get home, I went to my room and filled the tub with bubblebath. I figured that I might as well smell good when I died, and made sure that I had plenty of bath salts in the water. Using a razor, I made sure that I didn't have even one extra hair that a girl would not have, then used a lotion to make my skin soft and smooth. By the time I was out of the bath I was determined that when dad saw me, all he would see was a girl, not his son in a dress, since that might just be my only protection. After I stepped into the panties, I stood at the mirror, put my hair in rollers, then did my makeup, carefully choosing my colors. Using a soft blue with gray over that, my eye shadow looked just right, especially after I outlined my eyes with black liquid eye liner and a black pencil, then blusher in a pale sunset red which I drew out with a sponge. As I worked on my face I was acutely aware that I had breasts, I could see them moving whenever I moved, and better, I could feel them moving. When I got dressed I started with the waist nipper, then pulled on the padded panty before I sat on the bed and pulled on the pantyhose. The bra was a plain old white one, an A cup that connected in the front. As I pulled it on my breasts moved to fill the cups, swelling out just enough to create some unexpected cleavage. Smiling, I slipped the dress over my head and zipped it up before I went back in the bath and removed the rollers. With my naturally curly hair, about all I ever had to do was brush out my bangs, but the rollers made it easier for me to create a fuller style, which I did, and when my hair was just the way I wanted it, I spritzed it with so much hairspray that It would have stayed in a high wind I think! I heard dad come in just as I fastened the pearls around my neck, adding the earrings before I gave myself a dash of perfume and added the muted red lipstick. Still wearing my fake nails from the day before, I gave myself the once over, and when I was satisfied, I gathered every bit of my courage, and stepped out of my bedroom. I could hear his voice, not quite yelling, but...firmly loud. Taking a deep breath, I walked down the stairs and into the family room, standing in almost the same spot as the night before. Dad was choking and sputtering again after he saw me, but I simply sauntered into the room and sat down on the sofa, my knees together, my hands folded primly in my lap. Dad could smell the perfume, see my cleavage, hair style and legs, plus, he had already seen my figure. With my feet flat on the floor, I sat there unmoving, waiting. I knew my dad well, and the only way would be for me to stand my ground. He respected that, and even if he hated it, he might relent a little. Dad was speechless as he stared at me, then... "Is this," he said, "how you see yourself? As a man in a dress?" "No dad. Do I look like a man in a dress? No? That's because I am a girl in a dress!" "You are my son damn it," he bellowed, "and I did not raise you to be a... wear...dresses!" "True," I said, "but Mother nature has played a trick on both of us, because I like dressing as a girl, and better yet, I happen to look pretty good as a girl." I stood up and twirled around so he could see, then, "see what I mean dad? Do I look like a boy in any way? Any way at all?" I was out on a very long limb, and I was busy sawing away at that limb while hoping that dad would get it before I crashed and burned. "I could make you stop," dad said, "all I have to do is throw away all those clothes of yours!" "All that would do is make us both angry dad, because I would either get them back or just buy more." We had reached the impasse. He was having a hard time accepting me the way I was, and I just couldn't go on as a guy any more. Neither of us could give in, pride being the factor that drove us into our stubborn positions. At the age of 16 I knew he was right, he could dump all my stuff, but I also knew that I would replace it over time, and Pamela would return again, only to fight with dad again. I leaned over to scratch my ankle, and there was no way he couldn't see my breasts, which combined with my perfume, said more than my words ever could. Locked in a dance between our unrelenting positions, I knew he was going to win, I but could no longer deny how I felt, or what I wanted to be. Standing up again, I faced him, ready for the fireworks I knew were coming. Dad sat back in his chair watching me, then, all at once he jerked himself out of the chair, and I braced myself for the physical onslaught I just knew was coming. But he pulled himself to a stop just a few feet from me, still staring at me with his hard glaring eyes. "Okay," he suddenly said, "since you want to be a girl so badly, you're going to get your wish!" "Huh?" I asked dumbfounded. "From this moment on you are going to dress as a girl, without any exceptions at all. We'll see just how committed you are about this!" "But school," I said, unable to finish, because... "I am not concerned," dad said in a grim, even tone of voice, "about how you manage to do it, but you'll have to find a way, because like it or not, you're about to become the girl you say you are, full time, every day. Whatever problems you have, you better find a way to work them out, because I am not going to step in and help. That would just be saying that I agree with this...this...charade, which I certainly do not! You and your mother can work out the details! I'm out of it now." Turning to face me up close..."You're dating, you have managed to find a way to have breasts, and you look like a girl now, and if you can figure out all that, you can figure out the rest as well!" Turning to mom... "You two work it out!" Dad stomped out of the room leaving me looking at my mother. It was all she could do not to cry, but as we looked at one another, she took my hand in hers, then took me to my bedroom. "I can't go to school like this mom! I'll get beat to a pulp!" "You don't have a choice honey. If you don't, your father will be on you like a spider on a fly! He hates quitters, you know that!" Sitting on my bed, mom regained her composure, then... "Your father did tell you and I to work it out, so I'll go with you to school on Monday and see what I can do. Beyond that, we'll have to take things one day at a time, but for now, I think that we should probably get you a few more outfits to wear. I'm sure that your wardrobe is extremely limited, so lets go do that, then decide what to do about everything else later." Dad was outside in the yard when mom and I walked out, got in the car and drove away. We picked up two more bras, some more panties, a couple of skirts and blouses, two nightgowns and a robe, plus two dresses. I should have been elated, but I wasn't. Each item reinforced the edict my father had set down for me, which made my dressing as a girl no longer enjoyable, but a traumatic event that would forever change my life. Both mom and I knew that all it would take would be one small thing and dad would be off on a tangent again, leaving the possibility that he would hurt me. Dad would certainly win in a physical confrontation, but the chance that I would get hurt badly was slight, since I was big enough to defend myself, which I would do if I had to. That's why I was sure that dad's attacks would be emotional rather than physical, yet by my wearing a skirt every day would only fuel the fires of his resentment. As mom and I shopped, she and I also talked, which is when she gave me the best advice I ever got. "There is no way you and your father can survive this, unless you become the perfect girl honey. By that I mean that you'll have to dress and act like a girl around him at all times, and without fail, you cannot let him drag you into any arguments! When you come down for breakfast for example, you must wear the robe over your nightgown. Exposing yourself will only rile him up, so be a lady about this, and take the high ground away from him that way." By the time we got home I was really on edge. I wanted to be a girl, and I always knew that dad wasn't about to accept it like I had always hoped. Now, one of us was going to get their way, but with all of the things that could go wrong looming just ahead of me, I wondered why I couldn't just dress up once in a while. What was it that was driving me to do so many stupid things in a row? I dragged the bags in the house, walking right past dad, went up to my room then put everything in my dresser. Not wanting to provoke him any more than I had to, I stayed in my room, hiding really. About twenty minutes later Bruce called. As soon as I started talking, I also started crying. Bruce got it all, from the moment I got home to that minute, and without interrupting me, he listened to the whole thing. "Get yourself cleaned up," he told me, "I have an idea. I'll be over in ten minutes." I washed my face and did my makeup again, and when I heard the doorbell, I went down to answer the door. Dad beat me to it. Opening the door and seeing Bruce, he turned to look at me, then without a word, he spun around and left. Bruce told me to get my purse, then he took my hand and walked me to his car. "If your old man is making you go to school like this, then all we have to do is let everyone know that! Don't you see? If he makes you do something, you can't be held responsible!" Bruce's suggestion made a lot of sense, because I could always say I was being forced to dress that way, but all it would take is for one person to complain about dad and he would be in a world of hurt with the cops and everyone else, and regardless of how he was treating me, I just couldn't do that. Having dad squirm a little was okay, and as long as I was the one doing it, that was okay too. But Bruce and I both knew that this wasn't about dad, it was all about me. It was always about me. Mom didn't say it, but I got the impression that she thought I was being selfish, not thinking about anyone but myself, which, I guess was right, but I was the boy that wanted to be a girl, so it had to be about me! I looked at Bruce, saw him smile at me, then shook my head no. "I can't do that Bruce." I drew in a deep breath, and said, "I have to do this, but everyone has to know that it's my idea, and no matter what happens, I hope that you'll be there...for me." "I'll be there," he said, "I'll always be there for you." He turned the corner, then, "I know just the place to break the news. We'll stop by and see Kim. She and her little sister Prue are involved in everything, and they know just about everyone, so we'll talk to them first, then maybe get a burger, okay?" I didn't say anything as Bruce drove us to Kim's house. Tall, she was a willowy blonde with big blue eyes and perfectly straight teeth that were always bright white. Kim smiled easily and was, in a word, gorgeous, but she also had a mean streak, on top of being a bit neurotic. Once she was against you, everybody was against you. If she liked you, then you at least had a chance. Prue, her little sister, also tall, was a redhead with green eyes. Just ten months younger than Kim, Prue had blossomed with a very womanly figure. Where Kim was willowy, Prue was fuller in her figure, yet she retained that same easy smile and was also gorgeous. If I could look like anybody but me, it would be Prue. Bruce pulled in their driveway, and we saw Kim walking out of the back yard. Stopping, Bruce squeezed my hand, then opened his door and got out. Looking at Kim, I pulled on the door handle, opened the door, and got out to stand next to Bruce. "Hi Kim," he said, "this is Pamela, but she has something to tell you. Something important." Kim looked at me, her lack of recognition just about the only thing letting me stand there. "Hello Kim," I said. Is there someplace we can talk?" "Sure!" she said, and with a wave of her hand, we followed her into the back, sitting on their patio. "So," she said, "what's so important? "Kim," I said quickly, "remember back in third grade? When you dumped all that glue on the teachers chair? Then didn't tell anyone? And Mrs. Benson had to cut her skirt off?" With a giggle, "yeah, sure. I remember that! I think my butt still hurts! Why? And how do you know about that?" "I was the only one," I said slowly, "that you told about it. Remember now?" "Yeah, but I told...Seth, not...wait a minute! Are you Seth? You are! Aren't you!?" Nodding my head yes, "There's been a slight change in the way I look Kim. I've decided not to hide it any more, and just be the person I always knew I was." "You're going to dress like that? Why?" "Because I always felt that this is how I should dress! Kim, please! I need you to help me!" "What can I do? I mean...you look nice enough and all that, but..." "What Pamela needs," Bruce said, "is for you to be with her when she goes to school Kim. It'll be terrible unless we all stand with her rather than against her." "It's a little freaky," Kim said, "to see you dressed as a girl, and I never would have guessed that you liked to...say, do you like guys? Is that why you're doing this? It's okay to be Gay you know, you don't have to wear a dress to like guys!" "I...I'm not sure about guys," I said, "but why is it okay to be Gay and not Transgendered?" "Good point Pam! There isn't any reason!" Kim sat back, then a smile broke on her face. "Are those real?" she asked, pointing at my boobs. "No, but they come close," I said, "as close as I could afford anyway." Kim sat there for a minute, then suddenly sat upright. She told us that she could have a party, the next night of course, asked Bruce and I to be there. "Wear something...nice," she told me. Then she gave me a hug, and Bruce and I left. We never did see Prue, and Kim never said where she was. I wondered how she would take the news. Bruce found out about my dressing up when we were just 14. I had gone out for one of my late night walks when I saw him out walking his dog Ugly. There wasn't anywhere for me to go, so I pulled my chin down deep and started past him, but he recognized me anyway. That night my worst fears came true, but he was very cool about it, telling me not to be so ashamed of myself, and to walk looking forward rather than at the sidewalk. From that night on he had seen Pamela several times. He even took me out a few times. That's why I was out on "date," as I called it with Bruce. They were never dates as in he wanted my tender body, but a date as in he was helping me get used to being out in the public. He was my best friend and nothing more. He never even tried to hold my hand let alone kiss me. There was no way I could ever repay him, never. He let me off at home, and as I went in, I saw mom, and pulled her aside. I told her about the party Kim was having, and that she had invited me. When I told her that Kim said to "wear something nice," mom just grinned and told me what that meant. "Sexy," mom told me. I had just the dress of course, we had just bought it, and went to my room to drag it out of the closet an try it on again. It was just as foxy as I thought it would be, and with a grin hung it back in the closet. I had not seen dad, so I changed into a pair of shorts and a thin tee of my own and my gym shoes, then I went to wash my car. It was refreshing to be able to be a girl and do the things I always did, so I wasn't paying attention while washing the car and soaked myself just about the time dad pulled in. I saw his eyes just bugging out, and when I looked down, I saw that my shirt was soaking wet, virtually exposing my bra. With his head down, he went in the house, leaving me with the sour taste of rejection. When I was done washing the car I went in the house, headed for my room to take a shower when I heard the thundering roar of my father. "Get in here!" came the thunder. "I want to talk to you about what you're wearing!" I walked into the family room, still soaked. "I'll assume that you are not practicing for a wet tee shirt contest, but...but...you look almost indecent! I could almost see right through that shirt!" I hadn't even given a thought to what I had on, because I had always wore a tee to wash the car! "You told me that you knew all about being a girl! What happened, did you decide to advertise? Bruce isn't man enough for you?" That's when I lost it. The tension we were all under exploded in that one instant. I felt my anger driving me as I lost all semblance of control. Storming, I got as close to dad as I dared, and ripped that wet shirt over my head, threw it in his lap, backed up a step, and unclipped the bra, letting it fall into my hands, then I threw that at him too. Then the shorts, shoes and socks, leaving me in just the padded panty. "You're a bully!" I said just about as loudly as I ever had. "Did you know that?" I screamed, "Bruce hasn't even held my hand! It's only in that dirty little mind of yours that I did something I shouldn't! Well, you can go to hell, and take those with you since that's all you seem to think of me!" With my naked breasts heaving, I turned and started to walk out. "Get your skinny ass back in here," he yelled as I kept walking, ignoring him and his tyrannical ways as I went to my room to get dry clothes on. Mom was right ahead of dad as I bounded up the stairs, two at a time. Mom came in the room, slamming the door in my dad's face, then locked it. Her eyes were fire red coals of pure anger, but I was just as angry, and I was fed up with my dad's bigotry, sly comments, and dirty mind. All my life I heard him talk about women as if they were just waiting for the chance to let him jump their bones, and from the time I could understand what he meant, I resented it. My mother wouldn't take that from him, but now he was starting in on me, and I wasn't going to have any of that, even if I had to leave. "Put some clothes on," mom told me, "then you're going to listen to me, and you're going to pay close attention to what I'm going to say!" I slipped on a bra, then a blouse, and finally a skirt, then stood facing mom. "Your father is a first class asshole in a lot of ways, but he is your father, and he works very hard for us, and he did not deserve that last little tirade of yours! Just what possessed you to strip in front of him! Up to that moment he had no idea that those breasts of yours were stuck to your chest! Now look what you've done!" I got close to mom, then..."All dad does is degrade me! He does that to every woman in the family except you, and that's because he's not sure that you won't hurt him in the middle of the night! Just what makes you think that I'm any different than you? He can take his nasty comments and go to hell mom. I'll leave if I have to, but he is not going to talk to me like I'm a slut, because I'm not!" "You," mom said, "are not like me! I'm a female, and you're not! You're my son!" Mom visibly calmed down, and as her eyes returned to their normal brown..."You have to find a way to make peace with your father, if you don't, your life will be hell on earth around here, you know that don't you?" "Mom," I said, still angry, "I know this is hard on everyone! I know that! But as bad as it is for you and dad, what about me? I'm the one that's out there! I'm the one that everybody knows is a boy dressing as a girl, and I'm the one that will probably be beat within an inch of my life! Hell, they've already killed one of us, and she was girl dressing as a boy! You do know that girls can wear almost anything and get away with it, but they killed Teena anyway! Just what do you think is going to happen to me?" I paused, then..."Dad thinks I like this? I hate it. I hate being the only guy I know that has to dress as a girl! I hate being tense all of the time, and I hate being afraid all of the time. On top of that, I have to wonder when dad is going to fall off his trolley and take it out on me! I'm supposed to be safe in my own house mom, but now, I'm not so sure any more!" "I know," mom said, "that you are not the only boy that likes to dress as a girl, but you're the only boy in this house doing it!" With a sigh, "Your father likes to think he's a man's man, but I've know all along that he's a bully, just like you said he was. His view of the world is one that puts women at the very lowest rung on the ladder, even below the dog, if he had one. He sees us as a way to have children, someone to clean, wash and cook for him, just like your Grandfather was." Then mom dropped her bombshell. "As your father is getting older, he is getting worse, and like you, I find myself wanting out." "Divorce?" I asked, "Your considering divorce? Does dad know about this?" "No," she told me, "but he's been more abusive than ever, and I simply cannot take it any more!" Mom looked at me..."Your dressing as a girl has driven him almost over the edge, and while he would really like to make you quit, his methods are...extreme. He told me that taking a belt to you would cure you, but he won't do that because he knows that you'll fight back, and your probably big enough to hurt him now. That's why he takes it out on me. He can get away with it." Mom and I looked at each other, sharing a grief we shared. My father, and her husband, had matured to become more than a nasty bully, now he was just plain mean. As mom watched, I cleaned off my makeup and did it again, brushing out my hair and adding lipstick. "When?" I asked her. "When what?" she replied. "When do you and I leave dad to himself. When do we let him find someone that cares about him like we do. When do we let him try and find another woman that's willing to put up with his crap, and when can you and I find some peace?" "By that," mom said, "I take it you mean when can you dress like a girl without having to worry about your father? What about me? Have you considered what I think about what you're doing?" "I know you don't like it mom, but at the very least, you won't try to beat me for it!" "I think it would be better for everyone if you were to stay at Mary's house for a while. Let me think about all this. If, and only if, something happens, I'll call and tell you, but for your own sake, you have to either quit dressing up, or stay with your Aunt Mary. Your father is to unpredictable right now, so I can't even say what he'll do if you did change back! He told you to remain as a girl, and he might just see that as an insult to his authority, so you start packing, but remain dressed as you are. I'll call Mary and make the arrangements." I started packing before mom even left the room. As I stuffed things into a suitcase I could hear my dad roaring in anger, and as I waited for the thud the would signal my mother hitting the floor, I braced myself to take some action, anything, but something that would protect mom and I. The yelling quieted down just as I finished packing. I put all of my computer stuff in a couple of boxes, packed all of my boy clothes, and emptied out the bathroom. As I made one last look around, I heard the roar of an engine, the screech of tires, then the car hitting the street as someone, most likely dad, left the house. Cautiously I went down the stairs, finding mom sitting in the kitchen, a bruise on the side of her face. "Are you all packed?" she asked me, and when I said yes, "Then come help me pack honey. We're getting out of here for a while." "This is all my fault!" I said with shame, "If I hadn't wanted to dress like a girl, none of this would have happened! He hurt you! I never wanted that mom!" "This wasn't about you honey," mom said as she took my hand, "it's all about your father now. He didn't say a word about you, he accused me of having an affair with Mr. Thompson across the street!" "Him?" I asked incredulously. "That old coot?" Mom merely nodded her head yes, then we went to get her packed up. Within an hour or so, we had everything in our two cars, and had left the house. I followed mom as she made her way across town to my Aunt Mary's, mom's sister. Mary is a year older than mom, still single after her husbands death ten years ago. She never remarried, and had no kids. When we got there I followed mom inside, where mom explained everything just before she broke down crying. Without waiting, Mary waved her hand at me and I went to get our things. Mary showed me where to put everything, and while she and mom talked, I put things in the rooms. When I was done, I found them at the kitchen table, calmly talking...about me. "Pamela," Mary said, "come sit down next to me." I did, then... "Your mother has told me what happened, that you feel responsible, and your father has threatened you." Looking at me with those green eyes of hers, "You look very nice, considering the day you've had, and while I don't understand what's going on with you yet, but as long as you are here with me, I'll expect you to conduct yourself properly. Your mother also tells me that you have been invited to a party tomorrow, so maybe you had better call your date and tell him where you are now, okay?" I told her I understood, then went to the phone and called Bruce, who told me what time he would be over the next day. That night, while we had a small dinner, mom and I filled Mary in on what was happening. I told her why I was dressing as a girl, how it made me feel better about myself, but also, how I had no control over it. Pamela was just as much a part of me as my arm, and there wasn't any way I could get rid of her. I told her that I knew that no matter what I did, Pamela would always be back to haunt me unless I did something about it, and the obvious course was to just become Pamela. That's when mom told Mary that once she saw me all fixed up, some of her idea's about me might change. As I sat there listening to mom, I knew that I was so far out of the closet that I could never go back. So many people knew about me now that it would be almost as bad, if not worse, if I suddenly recanted, so I smiled, and told her I always conducted myself properly, boy, or girl. Mom and I shared a bath, but the room I was in had an old vanity, so I set out my makeup, a mirror, and hung up my clothes. That night as I prepared to go to bed, mom came into my room. Without a word she hugged me tightly, then simply told me to be the best girl I could be, and everything would be alright. I could only hope. The next day I helped mom unpack, then, right after lunch, I went to get ready. Bruce was coming by at 4, so I had almost two hours, plenty of time for me to turn myself into a Princess. Taking great care, I once again made my skin hairless and silky soft, then got dressed, starting with the padded panty, then black panties. Mom came in and tied up my waist nipper for me, then watched as I struggled with the new black bra. The clasp was in the back while all of my others had a front hook. Laughing at me, mom showed me a better way, and I soon had my breasts settled into place. The newness of having breasts had worn off, and I was beginning to get used to having them pull at my chest all of the time. Wearing a bra to support them felt nice. Mom put my hair in rollers for me, then I did my makeup. The padded pantybrief was followed by the pantyhose, then I slipped the dress over my head and mom zipped it up. My mother slowly brushed out my hair, making it look more feminine that I ever had, adding a small barrette that had pearls on it, just over my left ear. I stepped into my heels, then put on the earrings and the necklace as mom handed me the perfume. Once I had my lipstick on, I was ready for whatever happened. "Once you do this there is no going back honey. Are you sure about this?" Mom looked...concerned. "I don't have a choice any more mother, do I? Bruce knows, Kim knows, which means Prue also knows, Aunt Mary knows, so how can I not do this?" I looked in the mirror, every flaw magnified in my eyes. The way I stood, walked, talked, all pointed to my being a boy and not a girl, yet I thought I was beautiful. I wasn't, but my ego refused to admit that. "You're very pretty as a girl honey, and you look just wonderful!" Mom spun me around and quickly hugged me to her, stroking my back as she held me. "Now, I want you to go to that party and have a nice time. You just be yourself and everything will be fine. Okay?" "Okay mom. I'll try." "Then let's go see Mary and show her what kind of girl you are." When Mary saw me she yanked herself upright with a start, her eyes wide as I walked into the room. I stood there for a moment, waiting for her to comment, but all I heard was... "Damn!" Mary walked a little closer. "I never would have guessed that you could look so...what I mean is, I saw you yesterday, but you had runny mascara all over your face! You look positively gorgeous!" Just then the doorbell rang, and thinking it was Bruce, I went to the door and opened it. Only it wasn't Bruce, it was my dad. With rage in his eyes he charged into the house, brushing me aside like a bug as he made straight for my mother. Howling with anger, he reached for her, but Mary sent him sprawling when she merely stuck out her foot and tripped him. Just as he got up, I saw Bruce out of the corner of my eye, watching as he walked in the house just as dad stood up. Dad drew his fist back, ready to strike my mother, but Bruce grabbed him from behind and pulled hard, sending dad to the floor again. As he looked up and saw Bruce standing there with clenched fists, waiting, dad rolled over, got to his knees, then kicked out at Bruce. He missed, and Bruce merely smiled, making my dad angrier than ever. With Bruce ready to strike out if he had to, dad slumped to the floor just as the police arrived. Mary made a formal charge, and they hauled him away, still ranting about mom being his property or something. We were all shaking, everyone except Bruce that is. "Is everyone okay?" he asked us, "Maybe it would be better if we all went to Kim's little party," he said, "he might make bail and come back." "Will it be alright?" Mary asked. "No problem. I'll call and let her know, but if you two want to get cleaned up, Pam and I'll wait." My admiration for Bruce soared when he faced down my dad, not that I wanted him to hurt dad, but Bruce didn't even flinch when facing dad. I wasn't sure that I could do the same thing. Then mom and Mary showed up, and I thought Bruce was going to choke, because both of them looked marvelous, both wearing party dresses, their hair and makeup done perfectly. "Damn," Bruce said, then he escorted us to his car. Kim, Prue, and their mother were waiting for us when we arrived, Kim, Prue, Bruce and I went one way, while our mom's and Mary went another. Prue kept looking at me funny, so finally, I asked her why. "I can't figure out whether I should be angry with you, or just jealous," she said with a grin. "When Kim told me, I figured I'd see a guy in a dress, but you! You look fabulous!" Then she nudged me and pointed to Bruce. "Is he the one?" she asked. "One what?" I said, not understanding what she meant. After she gave me one of those "I don't believe you said that looks", "Is he the one that makes your heart thump real hard when he kisses you? Or maybe you just get the sweats when he holds you?" "It's not like that between Bruce and I," I said quickly, "we're just friends, that's all!" "Yeah," she said with a smirk, "that's why he's over there watching you like a hawk. He's afraid that some other guy will get to you, and he doesn't like that!" "No way!" I said emphatically, "he knows that I'm not...that I can't..." Prue pulled me off to the side of the patio, sat me down, and gripped my arm. "Listen dummy!" she said, "you're here because you told Kim that you wanted to let everyone know that you're now a girl. Right?" I nodded my head yes. "And girls date boys?" Another nod. "Don't you get it?" Prue sounded frustrated. "Bruce likes you, more than a little I'll bet, but maybe he's just as afraid as you are!" I still did not understand her. "He knows about you, but he's attracted to you! So what does that make him? Or you?" "You mean that Bruce wants to...with me? But he never told me! I mean..." "Guys never say anything Pamela! They don't know how! That's why it's up to us to let them know it's okay!" "But everyone might..." I started to say "see us." "You and Bruce are the only ones involved Pam, and besides, just look around. Kim has already told everyone, but do you see anyone bothering you? No? And why is that you think?" "Kim told them to lay off?" I ventured. "Not a chance honey! They aren't bothering you because you fit in. You look just as nice as the rest of the girls, and that's the only reason!" With a shove, Prue told me to go find Bruce, and hang on to him before some other girl got any wild ideas. I made my way across to Bruce, stood next to him, the a moment later, I felt his arm slip around my waist. It made me feel wanted, and although I was concerned about what the other kids would say, I didn't move. We circulated through the crowd, with Bruce introducing me to everyone. Generally the reception I got was better than just okay, a few of the guys looked disgusted, but all of the girls seemed to think it was okay that I was becoming a girl. As Bruce and I moved around, we found ourselves away from the crowd. I felt his hand squeeze me, but ignored it the first time. When he did it again, I turned, only to find his nose almost touching mine. With the barest tug, my lips were on his. He held me tight, then let me go, panting a little. We stood there, arm in arm, our eyes locked, then... "Pam, I..." "I know Bruce," I said, "but it doesn't matter, does it?" He shook his head no. "then you better kiss me again just to make sure," I said with a smile. The night dissolved into a true awakening, one that brought to life the girl I had inside, and always knew was there. My friends had shrugged off my revelation about wanting to be a girl, some telling me that if I had said I was Gay they would react the same way, so why not? Bruce, my very best friend in the whole world had kissed me, the first guy to ever do that, but rather than be afraid, I felt as if I had arrived, emotionally as well as with my friends. Later that night, after Bruce had taken us home, we found out that dad had been belligerent to the judge, and got himself tossed in jail for 90 days, no bail. A week later mom filed for divorce and we moved back home. My first day at school turned out to be a yawn, because the kids that did know spread the word quietly, while my teachers merely changed the grade books. It was uneventful, except that I was inducted into the secret society of girls, the one known as womanhood, becoming one of them in everything but body. Over the next few months I grew accustomed to having to take longer to get ready in the morning, but it was worth every moment of the time I spent becoming Pamela. Mom took a job with Mary's firm, and they are closer than ever before, while dad was served his papers in jail. As I look back on this time, I realized that the central lesson I learned was to be myself. Life will take care of itself if you let it. Fortunately, I liked being a girl more than I hated seeing my dad turn into a beast, but mom said it was inevitable, and my becoming a girl played almost no role in his downhill slide to oblivion. Learning the lesson was hard, the message clear.