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Help, I can't stop it! By Maddy Maddison Synopsis: John, a 13-year-old boy is being feminised by his mother. His friend Carl is often over at his house and gets drawn into being feminised as well. Carl's mother finds out and continues process at home. List of characters Carolus Laney 13 yo boy Latin version of Carl Named after Linnaeus Mary Laney Carolus' mother University professor Botany Peter Laney Carolus' father, civil engineer working in Peru John Nesbit Neighbour boy of 13 (Joan) Loretta Nesbit John's mother single mother (Lori) Dr Smythe Family doctor and psychologist Chapter 1 How it started I live in a small three bedroomed house in a quiet suburban street. It's tree-lined streets and pretty grass lawns and flower beds provide a calm, beautiful feel to my neighbourhood. I'm 13, my name is Carl, well actually Carolus, and as the only child, live with my mother Mary and father Peter. Mum is a botanist so when I was born, she named me after Carolus Linnaeus, the guy who did a lot of pioneering work in classifying plants and how they should be named. Dad is often away for his work for months at a time. He's a civil engineer and works on big construction projects like dams and harbours. He just left for Peru to oversee the construction of a dam and won't be back for at least six months. I'm friends with my neighbour John who is also 13 and he lives with his mother Loretta or Lori for short. Neither John nor I have gotten our next growth spurt yet, the other boys in our class seem to be growing quicker than us. We're about the same height and thin but John has black hair while mine is blond. Mum says not to worry that other boys are growing more quickly, everybody reaches puberty at different times. She has been giving me vitamins for the last three months anyway, just to make sure I have a balanced nutrition. The first week taking them made me a bit nauseous which is weird. Trouble is, while they're supposed to encourage my growth, I seem to only be keeping pace with the girls in my class, some are even taller than me. John and I are often over at each other's places playing around, sharing homework or just hanging out. We never had any secrets from each other until three weeks ago when John seemed to become withdrawn a little and somehow, we never seemed to meet at his place. John had just left my place after finishing our history homework together and I was sitting in my room, playing on my computer when mum came home from shopping. I got up to help her with the groceries. I was used to helping mum when dad was away for work. Going to the car, I saw that on the back seat, there was more than groceries, there were clothes shopping bags too. They were pink so assumed mum had bought herself some clothes. I reached in and as the clothes bags were closest, but mum had returned to the car and told me to get the groceries instead. Thinking nothing of it, that's what I did, taking in two bags of groceries to the kitchen while mum took the clothes bags to her room. While putting the vegetables in the refrigerator, she came up behind me and hugged me from behind. "You're such a helpful treasure, thank you for being so good around the house. And just to show my appreciation, I thought we could watch a DVD movie together and order in a pizza." "Great, I was a bit bored while you were away. What's the movie?" "It is a great movie on called Ma Vie en Rose, I've been wanting to see it for a while," mum replied. With the pizza ordered and the DVD in, we sat back and watched the movie. I figured it would be a chick flick, mum's favourite, but that was OK. And I was right in a way, but not the way I expected. It was about a boy that wanted to dress like and be a girl and how society reacted to him. It made me uncomfortable and puzzled watching it while mum was making appreciative gestures every time the Ludovic dressed as a girl and declared that she was a girl. The mix of comedy, fantasy and the hard reality of people's reactions made me feel happy at times and sad and uncomfortable at others. At the screen credits, mum commented, "What a brave girl Ludovic was to follow her dreams." "But mum, he was a boy," I replied still confused by this new concept. "Physically she was, but sometimes nature makes mistakes and boys are really girls inside," she said, "and if ever you felt that way, why, I would support you 100% and love you even more for being brave enough to be who you really are." "But mum, that's not me," I insisted, feeling uncomfortable. "Well, the movie might help you understand someone else, maybe a school friend if they felt like that anyway, don't you think?" "I suppose so, but, it's still a funny concept." "Well that's why it's good to see films like that to understand the different ways people think of themselves." "Yes, I suppose so," I replied, thinking deeply. Mum looked at me speculatively, "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a girl, to wear dresses and make-up?" Surprised by mum's question, my heart raced, my eyes went wide as my mouth dried up. "No, never. I never knew people wanted to be the other sex!" Mum saw I was struggling with her suggestion and tried to calm things down. "That's fine, Carl, I believe you! But if you ever want to explore, you can always come to me, I'd be happy to help." Wow! I had to calm down, just thinking about that made me really uncomfortable. And mum would have been happy to help me explore being a girl! I hoped she'd soon forget about something like that. I went to bed soon after the movie finished, still thinking about Ludovic, about the dramas her insistence on her identity caused and what mum had said. It's funny, but Ludovic looked a lot like my friend John, even the new hair hair cut he had a few weeks ago. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that just recently, he seemed to be acting a little odd. Chapter 2 Hints and clues Next morning, I got out of bed to get dressed. I opened my underwear draw and saw that mum had replaced my old underwear for new ones. They looked a little different, plain white but nothing to draw to my attention or curiosity. So I put them on, the material feeling a little smoother. I'd almost forgotten the movie and the discussion I had with mum, but going through the lounge to the kitchen, I happened to see the DVD case on the coffee table so was thinking of it when I saw mum fixing me a light breakfast of muesli and orange juice. My staple breakfast since starting the vitamins. As a matter of fact, I reflected, my whole diet changed around that time, less red meat, more chicken salads, fish, tofu and no fatty foods. Mum looked up, smiled and asked, "Did you find your new underwear?" "Yeah, thanks mum, the old ones were getting a bit ratty." "That's OK. I hope you don't mind that the undies don't have a fly, they're called boy shorts, that's the style." "They're fine mum," I replied, I thought no more of it. Mum smiled again as she bought me my bowl of muesli, orange juice and the daily vitamin mum had had me on since the start of the school year. While eating breakfast and thinking about the movie last night, I realised my hair was longer than Ludovic's hair. Mum hadn't wanted me to cut it, saying she had no time to take me to the barber whenever I mentioned it. Still feeling funny about the discussion we had, I asked, "Mum, can you take me to get my hair cut? I think it's getting too long, it's a little past my shoulders." Mum turned to me, "darling, I'd love to, but I just don't have the time at the moment, let's try later." So I left it, just like the other times. My hair was fully hiding my collar at the back and teachers were suggesting it was looking a little too shaggy. After heading out the door and on the way to school, I met Johnny at his front gate as usual. It was only a four-block walk to school and a bright sunny morning. It was a pleasant walk along the quiet, tree lined streets. I thought I'd mention the movie mum and I watched last night about the boy who identified as a girl to get his opinion. "Hey, Johnny, mum and I watched this weird movie last night about a boy who thought he was a girl. Who ever heard of such a thing?" Johnny missed a step and went a little pale. "Are you OK?" I asked looking around to see what he may have tripped on. Not seeing anything, I turned back. Johnny seemed a little more composed. "Yeah fine, that movie, was it called Ma Vie en Rose?" he asked. "That's it, have you seen it too?" "Yes, mum must have lent it to your mum. Mum has been watching it a lot. I just watched it the once with her." So, Johnny's mum Lori had given it to my mum. It made me think of the discussion afterwards. Was mum referring to Johnny as a boy who wanted to be a girl? I thought I'd raise the topic but not accuse him. "Mum said something strange afterwards, she asked if I ever I felt like being a girl that she would support me if I did. Isn't that strange?" Johnny looked surprised, "So what did you say?" "I said that I never knew people could feel that way and that I didn't want to be a girl." "Oh," was all Johnny said in reply. We walked together in silence for a while and changed the topic of conversation. It left me wondering if mum did think Johnny wanted to be a girl. After all, it was Johnny's mum who had loaned her the DVD. A few days later, I was at home watching TV with mum when she asked me what was wrong. "Nothing," I replied, Why?" "You're scratching your chest," mum answered. I was hardly aware I was doing it, then on reflection, I realised it was itchy and becoming more so. "My chest is getting itchy, maybe it's the soap I'm using, you know the new one you put in the shower." I had noticed it was new because it had a stronger floral scent than usual, come to think of it, it was a lavender scent. "Let me have a look," mum demanded, leaning across the couch to me. I lifted my tee shirt. I looked down as mum investigated. "You've scratched them raw. I'm surprised you were hardly aware of what you were doing." Mum said with a look of concern. She rose from the couch and headed for her bedroom. She came back quite quickly with a tube of cream. Handing to me she said, "Here, use this on your chest, it's a soothing cr?me." I took the tube and glanced at the label, Bust Boomer. I wondered what that was but wasn't too interested. Anyway, I squirted some into my hand and rubbed into by chest. It did feel soothing. Mum was all smiles. "See, it works, now keep using it until the itching stops." I shrugged, "Thanks mum, it does stop the itch really quickly!" I soon forgot about it and put it aside. However, I used it day and night for the next two weeks which is when the itching and tenderness stopped. Trouble was, it looked like my chest was getting more flabby. As a matter of fact, two little conical bumps about the size of small lemons were visible under my t shirt, so I took to wearing an unbuttoned shirt as well. I thought that's what I get for not exercising enough. Chapter 3 The trap snaps shut I was walking back from the local shops and past John's place when Lori came to the front gate and called me over. "Hello Carl, how are you?" "OK I guess, it's a nice day to be out," I replied. "I suppose you've noticed that John seems a little distracted lately." "Yes, it's strange but I couldn't get anything out of him when I asked how he was," I replied. "Please keep this confidential Carl, but I have to tell you and maybe you can help your friend" she confided. "Sure, I'll do anything you ask, he seems a little down." "Well, the problem is that he seems to be drawn to experiment with... let's say feminine things and it's frightening and confusing for him. I can see he'd be embarrassed if anyone finds out, that's why I asked you to keep it between us." I was surprised and concerned at the same time. Then I remembered just a few weeks ago, he seemed nervous when he raised the topic of girls and how they're different from us, that is, us boys. It was just after mum and I watched that DVD Ma Vie en Rose. He started out commenting but soon dropped the topic, leaving me puzzled and a little confused until he changed the topic to the latest football results. "I remember he did want to say something but changed the topic without getting to the point," I reflected. Lori replied, "That would have been about the time I came home and heard Johnny's computer on in his room. I went in without knocking to see that John was watching a program on applying make-up. He turned when he heard me, and I could see that he'd been experimenting with my eye make-up." "That doesn't sound like John, he never said anything to me." "Well that's not surprising is it? He'd be scared to death that his best friend would find out. Anyway, we had long gentle talk and I found out that he was depressed because he thought it was so unfair that girls could do things that boys couldn't, like wear make-up and perfume and explore wearing dresses and skirts while boys could only wear shorts and long pants." I was confused, this wasn't the rough and tumble John that I knew as a friend. Mrs Nesbit saw my frown. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm worried he'll slip into a depression and try and harm himself. I did some research on-line and found out that he was probably trans-gender and if not resolved, many trans-gender people will harm themselves." "What can I do to help? I don't want him to harm himself." I asked, now concerned for my friend's well-being. "Well, as you can imagine, I've been thinking very hard about this and I've had some professional opinions too. This may seem a little out there but if you think about it, it'll seem logical. He needs to be accepted by at least one friend, someone he can feel free to confide in." "I can do that, I can let him know that he's got nothing to worry about with me," I quickly replied. "Thank you for being so understanding, you're a very special friend to him, I can see that. But no, I think it needs a little more than just saying things, he will be more confident in trusting you if you could perhaps share some experiences with him. That would make him more confident! Nothing big, let's just say, for example, if you were to watch TV and a makeup advertisement came on, you could wonder aloud what it would be like to wear make-up. I could overhear and offer to let you experience it." "Wha what" my mouth went dry at the thought. "It would let him see that, shall we say, his interest is sort of natural and shared without him having to bring it up." I know I looked worried, so she added, I'm only talking of say, letting me put some mascara on you or something trivial like that and it can be taken off quickly and easily with a damp cloth. It'd be a way of starting a conversation while putting him at ease." I thought about it a while. "Such a small ask to get John more at ease, why not? What is a friend for?" I thought. "OK, I'll do it," when would be a good time Mrs Nesbit? "Please call me Lori, Carl, after all, we're both working to help Johnny. Come over in an hour, I know that's when there is suitable program on TV, I'll switch it over as you ring the doorbell. And don't worry, I have been discussing Johnny's issues with your mum, I already asked if it would be OK if you helped in this way." So that's why mum was raising those issues with me. Now it made sense, she was talking about my friend Johnny. "OK, we'll go with that." "So just to recap, I'll show you into the lounge and you sit next to Johnny, and noticing the program, wonder aloud what it would be like to have make-up on. But make sure you sound natural as if you'd just thought of it. I can take over from there." "OK Mrs Nes... sorry, Lori," I replied, wondering what I'd gotten myself in for. I went home and waited the allotted hour. Mum was home so I told her about my conversation with Mrs Nesbit. She was really encouraging in my part to help Johnny. "Oh, what a wonderful idea Lori has and I'm so proud of you for agreeing to help my darling!" mum smiled at me and gave me a warm, gentle hug. "Make sure you show Johnny that you are enjoying the attention, he will feel less frightened in opening up to you. That would be a real help." I knocked on John front door at the agreed time. I heard footsteps come to the door and was surprised when the door opened and it was John who answered. He smiled and said, "Come in, mom and I are just watching a film on TV." The sounds coming from the lounge changed, from what seemed to be a car chase to some women talking. I came into the room and we sat down on the couch. "What happened to the movie mom?" asked John. "Honey, you know we were watching the program on how to apply make-up" Mrs Nesbit seemed perplexed. I could see John's body stiffen and he was about to reply when I thought I'd better butt in. "I've always wondered what it would feel like to put on make-up, can we watch it Mrs Nesbit?" "Sure Carl, see Johnny, other boys are open to experiencing these things." Lori said smiling. John seemed shocked, eyes wide open, questioning glances at me. Before he could respond, Mrs Nesbit gave a stern looking stare at John but replied to me, "We can do better than watch it, why don't I give you boys a makeover together and enjoy a little girly fun. No one else need know." A makeover was news to me, it sounded like a lot more than a little bit of mascara. But I was caught in what I'd said, and I was still concerned for John, so I let my concerns slide. I put on a happy face and said, "Hey that sounds like fun John, what have we got to lose?" John looked unsure but seeing his mother glare at him, he smiled nervously and agreed. "Good, let's do it in Johnny's room. You boys go there, and I'll get a few things." Mrs Nesbit smiled then turned around and left the room. "Let's go," I said, getting off the couch. I followed Johnny up the stairs to his room. I stood in the door and stumbled a little, seeing how much it had changed in the last few months. Gone were his sports trophies and the football poster, now his room had a vanity and mirror with a flouncy vanity stool. The walls were painted a light pink. "Um, ah.." was all Johnny could muster. "It's alright, I tried to act normal, it's good to experiment and change things around," still mindful of Johnny's delicate state. He looked puzzled, "You're OK with this?" "Sure, why not, we're friends, we stick together and accept each other as we are!" I tried to put John at ease. He seemed to by puzzled by my attitude, but he was but still on edge. Soon Mrs Nesbit came in and added to the bottles, jars and brushes on John's vanity table. "Now Johnny, see what I told you, it's not so unusual to experiment with make-up, even for boys. Now Carl, please put on this wrap and sit down and I'll let you experience a full make-over," Mrs Nesbit said enthusiastically. "The wrap will protect your clothes." She leaned over, pretending to help do up the buttons at the back of neck and whispered in my ear, "Try to smile like you're enjoying this." So, I smiled. I gathered the folds of the pink nylon wrap sat down while she whispered to John who went to his cupboard, collected some clothes and soon left the room. All alone, I was left me to Mrs Nesbit's mercies. This was not what I thought would happen, wasn't Johnny supposed to be with me and participate in this? I watched in mounting apprehension as she not only painted my face with full make-up, plucking stray eyebrows, she filed my nails and painted them with three coats of pearly pink polish, matching my lipstick and eyeshadow. She had also used a hot curler on my long blond hair and styled it as if I was going to a ball. She used almost a full can of hairspray. I was silent through all of this, wondering how far she would go and what happened to John? She kept whispering to me, "Don't worry, we have to be convincing to Johnny's sake" and "You should have been a girl, you look so beautiful," and "We'll have to dress you up for the full effect." She picked up an elaborate glass bottle and sprayed a feminine, floral smelling perfume around me. Mrs Nesbit put some clip-on earrings on my ears and smiled, having completed the make-over. She held up a mirror to my so I could finally see what she had done to me. I saw a blond girl with curls in her hair, wearing make-up suitable for a night out. She was wearing pearl ear rings and a pink wrap. I noticed that my eyebrows seemed to be tapered at the end and looked quite feminine. Something that I couldn't change after removing the make-up. I was stunned that this beautiful girl was me. As I looked down, I noticed my flabby chest poked out the wrap, making me look more like a girl. I wondered if Lori noticed. While I was still staring, a girl came into the room, she looked stunning. She had full make-up, was wearing a sparkling silver dress coming to her mid-thigh, she had on stockings and was wearing silver heels. She had small breasts that tented the front of her dress. Mrs Nesbit turned around and seeing the girl smiled, "Carl, meet Joan, she's been staying with us for two months now." Was this John, my friend? By her nervous looks I knew it to be so. Her nerves were such that I was reminded of Mrs Nesbit's advice and smiled saying, "Why Joan, don't you look nice." "Well you're finished now Carl, or should I call you Carly or Carol? Your mum told me Carl was short for Carolus, But I think now Carol suits you much better," concluded Mrs Nesbit. "I'll let you two girls get to know each other in privacy," she said as she slipped out of the room. We looked at each other not saying anything in our embarrassment. Finally, John, no Joan, spoke up. "Do you like what mom did to you?" he asked. "It certainly was an experience, I must say, what do you think?" trying to stay light and positive but non-committal, afraid that my best buddy would see through his mother's plan. "Well she certainly did a number on you, that's for sure." "What do you mean Joan?" "Do you think I wanted this? Mom has been forcing me to dress like a girl for the last two months because she said she missed out on having a daughter and that I was going to be it. I've even been given pills that are making me grow boobs!" I was stunned and it finally struck me that I had been fooling myself, my flabby chest was not flab but growing breasts! I didn't want to accept that it was happening to me as well so didin't say anything to Johnny. "How did she convince you to let her give you a make-over?" asked Johnny. "She said you wanted to try out feminine things and you were stressed that I wouldn't understand and that you were depressed and likely to harm yourself. She asked me to do this to help you. She only said she'd only put mascara on me." "See how it happens? She's manoeuvred you into this too." Joan said disgustedly. "She's been insisting that I dress up like a girl for the last two months and she's taught me how to put on my own make-up. She insists that I should have been a girl." "She just told me that too! So, you don't want to be a girl and you're not depressed?" I asked jut to be sure. "No, I don't want to be a girl and dress like this, and yes, I am depressed 'because I can't see a way out of this." He replied. Just then the door to John's room opened and in came Mrs Nesbit, but behind her, my mom! "See what I told you, you do have a beautiful daughter after all." Mrs Nesbit said. Mom rushed over to me and gave me a big hug, "Lori has told me for weeks that you wanted to experience being a girl and I didn't believe her! Now I know! Why didn't you come to me darling? Too embarrassed? I thought the movie we watched together might encourage you to tell me how you really felt. But when you told me you agreed to Lori giving some experience with make-up, I knew a girl was hiding in there in your mind." "Oh, darling you are going to love being my daughter," she said to me as she kissed me all over my face. "But mum, I was just making sure that Johnny wasn't scared about sharing his wish to be a girl, Mrs Nesbit told me he was depressed." I said, trying to justify why I had let Mrs Nesbit make me up. "So you showed him that you also had a feminine side too! Oh darling, what a wonderful thing to do!" mum replied. I was stuck, I didn't want Johnny to think he was alone in this and get more depressed. But it niggled at me that mum had come in while I was like this made up doll. And Mrs Nesbit told mum that I wanted to be a girl! That was going beyond what she told me! Was I set up or what? "You should have told me that you wanted to be a girl darling, I accept you for what you want to be! We'll have a wonderful time together, just wait and see!" mum said while holding me at arm's length, looking me up and down, a feminine head and my male body hidden by the pink wrap. "Mum, can we go home, we have lots to talk about." I replied, taking off the pink wrap and leaving it on the chair I had recently occupied. Catching a glance of myself in the mirror, I saw an incongruous image of a boy's body with the head of a beautiful looking girl. "Sure darling, sure, let's go home and get acquainted with the real Carol, my daughter," she gushed. "Mum, it's not like that," I said as we headed out the door. Boy, was I nervous I would be spotted by some random friend or neighbour with a glamorous head and a boy's body and clothing. We said our good-byes to Mrs Nesbit and John, John looking at me with a mixture of sadness, regret and unspoken apology. We walked home and into our house. "Why don't I make us a nice cup of tea so we can have a chat!" mum asked as we walked towards the kitchen. She put on the kettle on our old gas stove top then turned to the cupboard and pulled out two fine, florally decorated cups "Mum, I didn't want to do this, Mrs Nesbit tricked me into it! And Johnny doesn't want to be a girl either. She's obsessed with turning him into her daughter." "Oh, I can't believe that dear, she's been telling me of Joan's gender confusion for the last six months! She's also recently told me that when you go to Johnny's home, you often ask what it's like to dress like a girl. That's why we watched that DVD together, to make you more comfortable with those issues." "Mum, it's not true," I replied. Mum fetched the tea bags from the cupboard and put them in the cups. She stopped to reflect with a thoughtful expression. "Then how could she force to sit still while she made you up? She told me you'd try to deny it! That is what Johnny did after all, until he confessed his love for all things feminine. And why have you been so happy to grow your hair long, it's down to your shoulders and perfect length to be styled," she said admiring my newly curled hair. "I did it to please you. Don't you remember you said you would like to see what I'd look like with long hair?" "No, I don't remember that! We had a conversation about you not cutting your hair, but it was because you said you wanted long hair." Mum replied. I couldn't get through to mum. "I'm going to wash this stuff off me mum. And looking at my pink painted nails, "Do you have nail polish remover?" "No I don't, so you will just have to keep your nails polished. And as for your make-up, don't remove it yet, Mrs Nesbit went to a lot of trouble making you look so pretty. And you need to get used to yourself as a pretty young girl!" she concluded. "But mum.." I tried to reply. "No buts, this is the perfect opportunity to bring your hidden desires out into the open. I know you're nervous and a bit frightened, but after a few days out in the open being a girl and it will become more natural for you." "What? I didn't want..." I tried to be forceful, but I was interrupted again. "Not another word, relax and let it happen. We can talk about it in a few days when you feel more relaxed as a girl," said mum, putting a finger to her lips, turning to get the kettle of the stove top and poured out water for our tea. My shoulders slumped. What just happened? Why wasn't I running out to the house screaming? I thought I would try and get through to mum, it was no use getting angry at this stage. I sat at the kitchen table, mum came over with two brewing cups of her special tea, sugar and milk. I took my cup and let the tea brew a little more before taking out the tea bag and adding sugar and milk. I slowly sipped my tea, contemplating mum's attitude, her conviction that I wanted to be a girl. "Mum, I really don't want to be a girl. I was trying to help Mrs Nesbit when she told me John, I mean Joan, be more comfortable with being a girl, honest, and Joan told me she doesn't want to be Joan, her mum made her. I mean him dress up." "Well, I find that so difficult to believe darling. Loretta told me that she caught Joan experimenting with her makeup some months back and that you were on the verge of telling her that you wanted to be a girl too. She just thought you needed a little help getting your true feelings out." I finished my tea and just sat, feeling a light headed, contemplating my current situation. Mum was talking again but things seemed a little fuzzy, I lost track of what she was saying until I realised, she just told me to repeat that I wanted to be a girl. I couldn't help myself and heard myself say; "I want to be a girl." The fuzzy feeling returned. Again, mum was talking and I heard myself say, "I love my new breasts, I hope they grow some more." The fuzz returned, I felt I couldn't think. I knew mum was talking but I couldn't make out what she was saying. Finally, clarity returned as mum gave me a glass of water. I drank it up, feeling much better. "Now run along to your room, Lori warned me that you would deny your true feelings out of embarrassment, I'm glad you finally told me the truth darling one. She lent me some of Joan's new clothes for you to try on, you should be about her size. I've laid them on your bed. Lori and Joan will be coming over for dinner and a chat in an hour so get a move on!" I reluctantly went to my bedroom, walking more slowly as I approached the door, feeling a little more clear headed. Feeling like I was falling further into a trap, my mind started to liken it to a hunter and prey situation. I turned the corner of the door, the bed slowly coming into view. There on the bed was a full set of clothes, white panties and training bra, short pink socks, white shirt and a tartan skirt on the bed waiting to encircle me, to smother me in feminine garb. A black pair of Mary Janes lay in wait at the foot of the bed, waiting to pounce onto my feet. I slowly approached the bed, wondering how well this was orchestrated, mum had to have had these clothes before I even went into Johnny's house. And while I was being 'made up' mum must have put these clothes out, waiting for the signal that my make over was complete. I wondered if mum knew I wasn't interested in experiencing being a girl and she'd collaborated with Lori on this whole preposterous scenario. Did she just believe Mrs Nesbit's story and wasn't really interested in turning me into a girl? But what was I to do? I was in such a shock and confused, I couldn't think straight, so with no better direction, I decided to get dressed in the clothes laying on the bed. I caught myself thinking, "I want to be a girl," then wondering where that thought came from? I approached the bed, stopped and just stared for a while before moving to undress. Once stripped of all my boy clothes, I felt vulnerable and wondered if this was a point of no return. I picked up the white panties, noticing the soft sheen and their slick, smooth lightness. Hesitating a fraction, I finally bent over while lifting my right foot and inserting it onto the leg hole, followed by the left foot. I slid them up my legs and finally let them settle on my hips. The elastic material minimising my boy bulge. My hands swept around my rear, feeling the cool slinky rounded surface. To my unease, I realised I was enjoying the feel of the panties. Actually, they suspiciously felt somewhat like the plain cotton underpants mum had bought for me weeks ago. The training bra was next. It was one that I could just slip over my head, like a very short singlet but it was silky smooth, except on the edges where there was sewn in elastic. Once settled in place, it looked and felt strange on my body, ending just below my flabby pecs. To my dismay, it was pushing the excess flab into the cups, creating soft pointed mounds where before was just a little flabby chest. My chest looked like a young girl's chest. How could that have come about? I touched the soft, pliant mounds with my hands, wondering at the soft, smoothness of the bra and what lay underneath. Unbidden, I thought, "I love my new breasts." Again I wondered if I was loosing my mind, where did that thought come from? I also noticed that, with my smaller, narrow tummy and wider hips I had been wondering about, I looked like a girl with a little lump in her panties. I was embarrassed by the look of my girly body and quickly wanted to cover it up with the plain white shirt laying on his bed. I picked it up, realising that it had four rows of lace on either side of the front buttons and button holes. I put it on, finding the buttons on the 'wrong side'. At least they covered my chest. The tartan skirt was pleated and made of cotton and was relatively easy to put on, sliding the zip in front, zipping it up, buttoning the button on top and sliding it around to the back. Tucking in the blouse, I looked in the wardrobe mirror. With my longish hair, my body shape and clothes, I looked 95% girl. Under the makeup, my face still looked a little boyish with my thickish but shaped eyebrows and peach fuzz upper lip. I felt my eyes water and sting as tears leaked down my face. How did this happen so quickly? I was a boy this morning, wasn't I? I collapsed on my bed and sobbed. I could hear mum came into my room, the mattress springs creak, feel the mattress depress from her weight as she sat next to me. I smelled her subtle feminine perfume then felt her hand gently rub my back. "Oh darling, there's no need to cry. And especially you don't want to rub your make-up all over your bed. Come on sit up honey." I sat up and mum gave me a warm hug. After helping me put on the Mary Janes, she dried my tears, dabbing them with a tissue and helped my stand up. "Now come to my room, we'll fix you up." I followed mum to her room, shoulders slumped. "Now sit at the vanity honey." Numbly following her suggestion, I sat, facing away from the mirror, not wanting to see myself in the mirror. Mum brushed my hair, fixing the elaborate hair style, and sprayed my hair to hold it in place. Next, she fixed the mascara and eyeshadow and lastly, coating my lips in the pink lipstick I had last seen next door. Now I was ready for dinner with Joan and Lori. Enticing me out of her room, I followed mum into the dining area where she put me to work setting the table while she completed the dinner. It felt funny to be in girl's clothes while doing chores, the feel of the bra across my chest, the open bottom of the skirt, the slight heel of the Mary Janes, the weird feeling of my stiff, styled hair and the greasy feeling of lipstick. With all the distractions of the clothes and the chores, before I knew it, the doorbell chimed. "Answer the door honey." Reluctantly I walked to the door and opened it, dreading anyone other than mum seeing me dressed like a girl. Before I could say anything, Lori burst forth, "Oh Carol girl, you look gorgeous." Lori gushed and smiling, "Let me look at Joan's new girlfriend!" I heard Joan groan. I stood there embarrassed, while I was inspected from head to foot. Joan stood slightly behind Lori looking beautiful but bashful. I couldn't stand being exposed to the street while standing in the doorway. "Please come in," I said, hoping to close the door as quickly as I decently could. They soon went past me, so I closed the door and turned. Lori had gone straight to the kitchen, I heard a squeal of delight and one in return. but not the words that followed. Joan stood near me in the entry, looking contrite. "I'm so, so sorry you got dragged into this Carl," Joan said. "Me too, and I know you were railroaded just like me, so we need to work out how to get out of this." Joan smiled but with sad eyes, I knew how he felt. "We'll talk later Joan, I mean John, we've got to keep it together and remember who we really are." We went into the lounge room and sat down on the sofa to talk more about our situation. I noticed how automatically John tucked his skirt under himself while lowering himself onto the couch. I followed his example, sliding my hands from my bottom to the back of my knees as I sat. "Are you sure you haven't worn a dress or skirt before, you did that like you were born to skirts and dresses," John asked. Annoyed, I retorted, "No of course not, I just aped what you did you ape!" "Hey sorry! That just slipped out. You looked so natural sitting like that, and did you stuff your bra?" Alarmed, I looked down to see that there were two small but noticeable bumps. "I'm just a little chubby on my chest. They're not what you think!" "Sorry Carl, it just looks..." he trailed off abashed, looking into his lap then, "... like me!". Still annoyed but mollified, "Apology accepted. But we need to work out how to get out of this situation." We could still hear the excited buzz emanating from the kitchen, occasionally picking up words and phrases like; Joan, feminine and loves pink. Ominously I also heard "doctor" and "counselling". We sat quietly trying to hear what was being said and find out what more our mothers had planned for us. I kept looking down while trying to hear what was being said but the sight of the blouse and skirt I was now wearing caused so much confusion, I couldn't really remember their conversation. Finally, dinner arrived, John and I were asked to set the table and our moms made sure we moved and acted just like the girls we appeared to be. Chapter 4 A visit from a psychologist I woke to a new day, slowly becoming aware of the unfamiliar feel of the nylon nightdress I was wearing. Mother came into the room and opened the curtains on a sunny morning. Blinking, I sat up, feeling distraught that I was wearing a nightdress mom had forced on me the previous night. "Good morning darling," my mom was beaming. "Mom, I don't want to wear girls' clothes, I'm not a girl and I don't want to be one!" I complained. "Oh dear, I was afraid that you would get confused like that, so I arranged for a counsellor to talk to you, she will be here in an hour, so time to get dressed and have some breakfast before she comes." I was dismayed, what we overheard was coming to fruition faster that I thought. "But mum, I'm not confused, I really don't want to be a girl and I don't want to wear girl's clothes either!" "Now, now, let's not be hasty, Ms Smythe will be here in an hour and you can convince her of your viewpoint. In the meantime, let's get you dressed." Mom handed me a fresh pair of panties, that again compressed my boy parts. I reluctantly put on the training bra and the same blouse and skirt I had worn the day before. Mum turned me around and brushed my hair into a feminine style and used hairspray to fix it in place. "Come to my room and I'll show you how for put on some make-up. Won't that be exciting?" "No, it won't be," I said, as I glumly followed her into her bedroom. "Now sit down at my vanity," mum commanded. I plonked down. "That is not the way a young lady should sit, look, you're creasing that lovely skirt of yours. Now stand up again and tuck your skirt under you as you gently sit down." I was unwilling to carry on with this farce, but I followed mum's directions and tucked my skirt under me thinking I would get out of this when I talk to this Ms Smythe and convince her that it was mum that needed her counselling. Mum explained that she would just do a minimal job, just mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick. She explained the process, saying a minimal amount of make-up is appropriate for someone my age. I sat there, flinching when mum came near me with the mascara brush. It felt strange as the brush gently pulled on my eye lashes, then feeling the weight of mascara as it was applied. Next came a pink eyeshadow, I felt a fluttering of at applicator n my eyelids as mum applied it. Finally, I was given the lipstick and mum told me I could have a go at applying it myself. Opening the tube and twisting the lipstick up, I saw that it was the same colour pink as the eyeshadow that mum applied to my lids. Shakily, I applied it to my lips, feeling the greasy lipstick on my lips for the second day in a row. "Now here's a purse I bought for you and I want you to put your mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick in it for when you need a touch up." Glumly I looked in the vanity mirror and saw the image of the girl I saw yesterday. "Cheer up honey, you'll feel better once you talk to the psychologist," mum said, "let's get some breakfast into you before she gets here." It wasn't long after a skimpy breakfast of toast and juice and vitamin that the doorbell rang. Mum answered the door and I heard her talking to a lady. I was in the lounge room as she entered. "Carol, I'd like you to meet Ms Cybill Smythe, she will be talking to you about your gender confusion." Mum sad with a smile. Ms Smythe was dressed in a grey power suit, buttoned up coat and tight grey skirt reaching to her knees. A pink floral scarf tied loosely around her neck barely hid a silk blouse. Her blonde hair swept up in a French twist. She looked middle aged but still with beautiful flawless, pale skin. She stepped forward, extending her hand limply, I took it gently as we shook hands, noticing the subtle perfume surrounding her. "Well, don't you look pretty Carol," she said, "let's sit down and talk. We sat on lounge chairs facing each other, mum explained that she would let us talk privately as she retreated to the kitchen. I was apprehensive and it must have showed. "Now I know that you are all confused at the moment and you look quite apprehensive, so let's just take this slowly, I'll introduce myself," she said with a friendly smile. "As I said, I'm Cybill Smythe and I'm a specialist in gender issues in children like yourself. As a matter of fact, so was my mother, who pioneered the area in the 1960's. I'm carrying on her tradition of helping young people like yourself. I learned a lot from her and one for the most important things I learned was that when meeting someone for the first time, it is most important that they feel totally comfortable and relaxed. That way, we can really feel like we are free to express what is most important to us. So, before you tell me about yourself, how about we do a little relaxing exercise?" I thought she was sincere and that I would be able to talk to her, that I didn't want to be a girl or wear girl's clothes. I was wound up so I thought a relaxing exercise might help me explain this terrible mistake better. I nodded that I would be happy with that. "Oh good, let's begin. Firstly, I want you to relax your body, feel yourself sinking into that warm, comfy seat..." I listened willingly to her smooth comforting voice droning on about relaxing until I felt my eyes getting heavy. Next thing I was aware of was a gentle click of her fingers. "Carol, thank you for telling me that you have wanted to experiment with wearing beautiful dresses and skirts like your friend Joan," Ms Smythe said. As I heard the word dresses, I suddenly realised that it was true, I wanted to wear beautiful dresses! "And I noticed that the hormones you asked your mother for are really changing your body so that you can experience what it's like to develop as a girl." I was puzzled for a moment then remembered that I did ask for female hormones and that my breasts were finally budding, so like I wanted! I smiled, "Oh yes, I'm so happy to be on my way to feeling what it's like as a girl developing my very own breasts! But, I'm still unsure that they will shrink like mum said if I stop taking them." "I can assure you that from the medications I've written for you that it is temporary, so you can feel what it's like to be a girl then go back to being a boy... if that is what you decide." Dr Smythe reassured me. "So have fun with your boobies while you have them." She continued to think, "Once you find out how delightful they feel, you won't ever want to give them up." "Just remember, I need to see you weekly from now at my office for the next two months so I can clear up any doubts you were having about experimenting about a life of wearing dresses and skirts" I remembered vaguely that I was a bit nervous this morning and then hearing dresses again felt a shock of excitement flow through my body, of course that's what I wanted! "Thank you Ms Smythe, I'll look forward to it!" I said as we both rose from our chairs and as mum entered the room. Mum and Ms Smythe arranged for my weekly counselling sessions, then, "Well, my next appointment is now due next door, I'll be seeing your girlfriend Joan next, she's a little worried about her dresses too!" I thought of poor Joan, I remembered vaguely that she was keen on being a girl too but was still too shy to be seen wearing dresses and skirts away from her home. Mum and I saw Dr Smythe to the door, seeing her walk down the footpath and along to Joan's house. Mum turned to me as we shut the door and smiled, "So I'm glad Dr Smythe was able to help you realise how you really want to experiment about being girl. After all, it's only for a few months isn't it?" "Me too mum, but it's strange, I don't remember being uncertain about it for a long time, I've always wondered what it was like to wear dresses!" I just loved the little feeling of happiness whenever I said or thought of dresses. Mum looked at me a little strangely, then her visage cleared of the doubt I saw there, and she answered, "Yes of course, remember, this visit was just to pave the way for you to feel more comfortable and natural while you have this trial. We had to officially start somewhere," she said. I thought this was a new idea but accepted it as I seemed to be forgetting a few things just lately. I went to my room, still enjoying the feel of being in a skirt, my legs feeling bare. I lay on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, wondering how Joan was going with her appointment with Dr Smythe. I knew she was more committed to being a girl full time while I was just seeing what it would be like. I must have fallen asleep for quite a while as I had a rug over me when I woke to the smell of a roast dinner cooking. I lifted the blanket when a host of strange sensations hit me. The feel of a bra wrapped around my body was the first thing, then memories of the day came flooding back. Then I got confused. Wasn't I trying to resist wearing these things? Wasn't I tricked into wearing them by Lori and mum? But I also knew that I'd wondered, no, wanted to feel what it was like to dress like a girl. Wasn't that why mum let me experiment with growing breasts? BUT NO! How could I have asked for hormones to experience developing like a girl? That was just ridiculous! Leaving my bedroom, I walked into the kitchen seeing mum prepare vegetables for roasting. She saw me enter and, "Hello sleepyhead. I saw you must have been tired, so I put a rug over you. Feeling better?" she asked. "Mum I'm confused, I didn't ask to see what it felt like to be a girl did I?" Mum stopped peeling the carrot she had in her hand. With a look of concern, she said, "Darling one, don't you remember that is why we called Dr Smythe to see you? To feel more comfortable wearing dresses, to make this little experiment with wearing dresses and other things seem more natural?" On hearing "Dresses" I began to wonder why I asked that? Hearing "Dresses" again made my heart beat faster in excitement. Yes, I wanted to feel what it was like to be a girl and wear some dresses. What was I thinking? I started to help mum prepare dinner, shelling peas then setting the table. All the while, I was hyper-aware of the skirt and blouse I had on and how new but how wonderful it made me feel. "Oh yes, you're right mum, that's exactly right, I want to act and feel like a girl and wearing this outfit makes me so natural and calm, like this is where I belong." "Good for you darling Carol, now let's get the rest of dinner prepared. Could you finish shelling the peas for me? And don't forget your apron, it's behind the pantry door." Of course it was, I remembered as soon as mum told me, and looking behind the door, I found it. Strangely I only remembered what it looked like as soon as I saw it, but no clue beforehand. I pick up the pink floral confection and carefully lowered it over my freshly styled hair. Dinner was such a pleasure talking about fashion with mum. She was smiling so wide I thought her face would split open! It was like she had just found a treasure chest laden with gold and diamonds! Chapter 5 Carol and Joan, the new girls in the neighbourhood It was another school day and I was wondering what to wear. I was in a strange frame of mind. I wanted to wear a pretty dress, but my wardrobe was still full of boy clothes and I knew I couldn't wear a dress to school. I knew I was a boy but had a strong urge to present as a girl. I also knew that it would cause issues and I wasn't ready for that. I had been going to Dr Smythe now for four weeks and every time I left, I felt more and more comfortable with experimenting with being a girl and watching my little breasts get a little bigger each week. A knock on the door pulled me out of my reverie. "May I come in Carol?" mum asked. "Oh yes mum, come in, maybe you can help. What will I wear to school?" "For now, no skirts or dresses, you need to wear your boy clothes." Hearing dresses, I knew that's what I desperately wanted, but my shoulders slumped. Of course, I had new desires, new needs but only one skirt and blouse. Mum saw my dejected body language. "Darling, wear your boy clothes, then after school, we can go to the mall and get you some more suitable clothes, for after school and weekends." I looked up, "Mum, you're a treasure! I'd love that!" Excited, I started thinking of all the wonderful clothes I could get. Why don't you at least put on these panties and camisole under your boy clothes, so you can at least feel feminine." "Thanks mum," I said smiling, "what a great idea." I took the silky white undies and put them on, feeling more content. Then I had to put on my new white camisole with the thin straps and the lace edging, somehow they really accentuated my growing chest! Then I put on the usual jeans and tee shirt, giving me a bit of a downer. I met Joan out the front of our house and as usual, we walked to school. He was also dressed in his boy clothes. I wondered, had he changed his mind about wearing girl's clothes after seeing Dr Smythe too. I had to find out. "How's it going John?' I asked. "Fine, but while we're alone, could you call me Joan?" Smiling I replied, "Sure Joan, and call me Carol!" We both laughed in relief, knowing we were both wanting to be girls but had to hide our feelings. "Are you wearing anything special today?" I queried. Joan nodded and whispered in my ear, "I'm wearing panties and a camisole, how about you?" "Yeah, me too, can you tell?" I smiled hoping nothing was visible. Jan looked at me front on then around the back. "Oh, oh, I can just see the tell-tale outline of the camisole coming through your tee shirt. I can also see two bumps on your chest, just like mine. Can you see those on me too?" Joan asked. I looked and saw to my consternation the same outline on Joan's tee shirt and two obvious bumps on his chest. Now I was worried, I knew I wanted to wear my new slinky under things but now I was scared others would see. Maybe I should have taken a jacket as well! Something a little bulkier. "Yes, I can see an outline of the camisole and those two bumps. But at least I can't see an outline of your panties." I noticed when I said panties, Carol's eyes flickered a little and his face flushed a little. "Well I don't care who notices, it's who we want to be so stuff'em! So long as we stick together, we'll be OK, what do you say Carol?" Joan said with a slightly higher, feminine voice. I thought for a minute, Carol reacted strangely to the word panties, but what if people make fun of us, we've got each other, that's all we need! "Yeah sure," I replied, "We can be our own group, we don't need approval from anyone else!" We continued walking to school but a niggling feeling about Joan's reaction to the word panties struck me as curious. But I couldn't figure out what it was, something not quite within my grasp. I soon forgot about that as we approached school and we braced ourselves for others noticing our camisole outlines. Funnily enough it seemed that as we walked through the school grounds, none of the boys noticed anything and we breathed a little easier. A few girls however, gave us momentary strange looks which were quickly hidden. It was a little unsettling. Maybe girls noticed that sort of thing more than boys? Classes went on as normal. I really enjoyed school, I wanted to learn and do well. So did most of the students, we knew if we wanted to succeed in life, having a good education was the first important step. At the end of the last class for the day, our science teacher, Ms Pamela Dirac asked Joan and I to stay behind. The other students filed out of the room, leaving Joan and myself nervously looking at each other while the teacher packed up her notes. Ms Dirac was approaching middle age, probably in her late thirties, with a shock of long flowing red hair. She was always dressed in soft feminine outfits of either dresses or skirt and blouses, her make-up was always perfect, and the scent of her perfume followed her where ever she went. She looked up as the last of the notes disappeared in her satchel. "Now don't worry boys, or should I say girls, you are not in trouble. I could see the outline of your camisoles through your tees and the bumps on yur chests so thought I'd have a little word with you," she smiled encouragingly. "You know, our school has a policy of acceptance and encouragement of students and teachers of different gender identities." We looked at each other in puzzlement, where was this going? "As I can see, you identify as girls but have not had the courage to come out in the open yet. Our school has a program for students such as yourselves to learn how to become more confident in your gender identity and sexuality so that you can be more confident to present in public who you truly are. We have group sessions with like-minded students every Thursday after school and would like you to join, what to do you say?" Confronted with being discovered was a shock and for me, I was now unsure why I was in this situation. I was a boy, wasn't I? why was I wearing these feminine under things? I was about to back right off when Joan/John spoke up. "Oh, that's good news Ms Dirac, we really are girls wanting to come out to the world, we'd love to join the group!" Joan exclaimed, smiling. Before I could voice any concerns, Ms Dirac said, "Well, thank you for admitting you two are keen to join the group. I will have to talk to your parents and get their permission and will ring them before I leave school today. I'm sure we will soon have two new girls joining us! Now off you go, you'll be late home otherwise!" Before I could even think clearly, Joan and I were out the door and walking home, my head swirling with thoughts of the situation being out of control and how am I now identifying as a girl. I'm sure I didn't want this, now I was getting more scared. After Joan entered her house, I walked slowly to give me time to think. Why was I so positive about wearing girls' clothes? Was it the silky panties, camisole? There was no feeling for these items anymore. And as for the two bumps on my chest, I suddenly felt everything had gone too far. As a matter of fact, I felt distinctly weird knowing I could feel my under things and could feel my little breasts rubbing on the camisole now. I seemed to change my mind so suddenly, what was the common factor? What was it? Mum and I would be talking, I would start feeling uneasy, then suddenly, Bamm! I was in for everything feminine. When was the last time I told mum I was confused or uneasy? That's it, yesterday after my afternoon nap. I said I was confused, I didn't remember wanting to be a girl. Mum said something about that's why Dr Smythe saw me... Wait, mum said something about dresses. THRUM! Oohh dresses! I suddenly felt like everything was right again, my confusion was falling away. Now I knew, well at least I think I did. It was that word. If I say it again, that would confirm it, but I need to be ready. With some concentration, I braced myself... "Dresses." THRUM! Oohh, I do like dresses, what's wrong with that? I knew saying that word made me feel so in love with dresses and wanting to be a girly girl. I was glad my breasts were growing and showing. Now I didn't care! "Hi mum, I'm home!" I yelled as I walked through the door. Chapter 6 Keeping abreast of the times. It had been another month of school, hormone tablets and seeing Dr Smythe. I looked forward to seeing her, she was just so understanding and supportive of my experiment into girlhood with Joan! Oh, I would occasionally have doubts, but mum and Dr Smythe seemed to have a way of making me feel comfortable in immersing myself in femininity. Joan and I also took part in the special transgender group meetings at school. Of course, everyone was still dressed as boys but all of them were in some way showing their true identity. There were three other boys in the group. It was strange though, at the first meeting we all had to say what was our favourite feminine garment. Henry said it was pantihose and his eyes glazed over for second. The same happened with Fred, he said his favourite was Mary Janes and his eyes glazed over. Brendan said his was skirts. When I said dresses, I noticed that for a second the idea of dresses seemed to make me loose concentration. John said panties and the same thing happened. Ms Dirac, we call her Pam in these sessions, was pleased and said that it is good to focus our positive thoughts on our favourite feminine things. I thought of dresses again and smiled. I felt a little sorry for Brendan though, he was a little under six-foot-tall and well-built and not very happy that he was in this meeting group. Ms Dirac suggested that he think of the skirt he could wear by eating fewer high fat, fast foods and getting to take an interest in salads instead. Brendan - or Brenda as we called her in the meeting did take that on board and we could see a dramatic drop in her weight. She started looking like a tall svelte model in proportion. She was feeling much more confident in her identity with each meeting. It is funny, I was aware of things being done and said in the meetings, but we were all in a bit of a haze as we were encouraged to talk about being feminine and what we liked about our special clothing items. It was easy to take on board Ms Dirac's suggestions. One day after our special meeting, mum was late in picking Joan and I up. As we hung around out the front of school, we noticed that Dr Smythe had picked up Ms Dirac and drove off in a fancy car. I thought how nice it was that the two adults who were helping us discover ourselves knew each other. Later that evening, I was helping mum clear the table when she said, "Oh Carol, you must try the latest technique for enhancing your breasts!" I wondered why I should do that since I was already on hormones so asked her why? Still smiling but acting coy, she replied, "Well darling, your breasts are certainly growing, but they're still a little under an A cup. If you really want to see what it's like to have more mature breasts, I have a way to do just that." "But mum, I don't want to have implants or anything like that!" "Honey, don't worry, it's completely natural, some herbal cremes and a little device that sits on you to stimulate growth by you own body." "Well, in that case, I think I could give it a go, but mum, if I don't like it, can I stop?" I was really worried now. I had been thinking of what had been happening lately and I'd also realised that Dr Smythe have given me a word catalyst just like Joan. I had tried to avoid even thinking of it. When I thought I would be thinking of it, I'd quickly think of panties instead. That seemed to make me more immune to suggestion that I now knew came from Dr Smythe. Somehow though, the thought of panties... "Why of course dear. I took the liberty of getting everything we need, I can set it up for you tonight. You will need to wear the device overnight while you sleep." I wasn't prepared for anything like that so suddenly. I was now desperate to avoid any quickening in what was happening to me. Mum saw me frown, thinking about this latest development so she quickly added, "Just think how your dresses will fit better!" I immediately got excited again, yes, my dresses would look much better with breasts larger than just my little A cups! I also thought that it would be a slow process, so I could stop when I wanted. It doesn't seem such a big risk. "OK, let's do it! But if it's too much I can stop doing it?" Somehow, just under my consciousness, I was wary. "Of course darling," mum smiled at me and kissed me on the cheek. Her perfume filled my nostrils, bringing me closer to her. "So, at bed time, you just need to wear your favourite panties and I'll do the rest! Now let's just relax and watch our favourite home improvement program, I think tonight they will have some cute ideas for decorating bedrooms." We finished the kitchen clean up and had a relaxed night in front of the tele. By 9:30 I was yawning, I had temporarily forgotten about mum's new suggestion but now the idea surfaced again. But now, I was sure I didn't want any part of it. I didn't even know why I was still wearing a girly outfit of blouse and tartan skirt with all the underpinnings. "Mum, I'm not sure I want to go through with the breast enhancement mum, I don't think I'm ready for this kind of thing." "But darling," my mum turned to smile at me but somehow the smile looked sly, almost determined, "you will like your new breast size, I guarantee it!" "No mum, I'm not sure anymore, can we put it off, please?" "No darling, it's not possible, Dr Smythe loaned me the device and I need to give it back soon. It has to be tonight!" "Well you can borrow it another time, can't you?" I asked getting more nervous about mum's forceful attitude. Mum turned on a concerned face and said, "But darling, I've made an appointment to have you fitted for new bras the day after tomorrow, we need to do it tonight and the following night." Still unsure, I started to worry and plead with her, but she beat me to it. "Dress shopping will be next on the agenda Carol, new dresses to try and buy. Doesn't that excite you?" Actually, it did, I thought, so why was I so reluctant to try this enhancement treatment tonight? "Carol darling, I think you got worked up for no reason, let me fix you a drink to relax you." Mum went to the very top shelf in the pantry and took a sachet out of a small box I had not seen before. She poured a powder into a glass of water and asked me to drink. Again, I was a bit hesitant. "Think of those dresses," mum said as I drank the water down. "OK darling, let's get you to bed before the relaxant kicks in." Thinking of how I would look in new dresses with a definite bust line, I followed mum to my room. Soon I was in a pair of new panties and lying bare chested on the new soft satin bedsheet. As I was starting to feel sleepy, mum rubbed a cr?me onto my flabby chest. The cr?me felt like it was warming up my chest. When the cr?me was absorbed into my skin, I could barely keep my eyes open. It was then that mum lifted up a pink plastic mould with a hose coming out of the top, the hose was attached to a pump which had been plugged into the wall. "Now Carol, I'll just put this over your chest then switch it on and it and the cr?me will do the work of making your breasts just beautiful." As I drifted off to sleep, I felt the weight of the mould hug my chest and a pulsating sucking pressure lifting my flabby chest to fill the void. I woke with light streaming into my room. Mum was lifting off the plastic mould. I remembered what had happened last night and realised that I didn't want bigger breasts, after all I was a boy. I also quickly realised mum had used the word Dr Smythe had implanted into me. Quick, quick think of panties, panties, panties... relief then... thrum? Shaking off a mild feeling of wanting to feel feminine, I was quick to put up my guard so that mum would use that word on me. With a start and a little bit of trepidation, I looked down, dreading the worst. I saw two small cones on my chest, larger areola and large nipples, but nothing like I feared. Trying to smile for mum, I said, "Wow, aren't they wonderful?" Mum smiled as she turned back from depositing the mould on my dresser. "I'm glad you like them darling one, just one more treatment and they should be the perfect size for you. Now hop out of bed and I can measure your new size." Along with my fake smile and attitude, I got out of bed and stood next to mum. The shifting of tissue while standing upright only enhanced the size of my breasts. With dismay hidden behind my expression of wonder, I asked, "Wow, they look super! What size are they mum?" Mum got out the tape measure, measuring my chest just under my, shall we say, new developments? Then she shifted the tape higher to cover my new nipples. I shivered and cringed as I felt a mix of tenderness and tingling at the touch of the cold tape. Mum noticed. "Your breasts will be tender for a while as they are growing and settle in to their new size. You will have to wear a bra of soft material, say satin. I can't wait to for our little shopping trip." After writing down the figure, mum looked at a sizing chart. "Well dear, welcome to womanhood, you are officially a size A+, no more training bras for you!" "Now, I'll just get the breast cream, it will soothe your breasts for today and help them settle in while avoiding stretch marks." I acquiesced without a word, still looking down at what mum had done to me. Soon the white cream was rubbed in on all sides of my new breasts. OMG, it felt so good, I was lost in the sensations. "Someone likes her new breasts!" mum exclaimed. Startled, I realised I had closed my eyes and let out a quiet moan. Mum finished rubbing in the cream. "Oh, and the cream will also help increase your breast size again, isn't it wonderful?" Was mum testing me? I looked up at her and smiled, "Yes that's great mum. When did you say this treatment will be complete?" "Oh, I can see you're impatient, but you will have to wait until tomorrow morning darling. If you were older, you would need bigger breasts to match your age, you would need probably a week of treatment. But seeing as you are just 13, anything larger that a B cup would be out of proportion to your body size. But at a B cup, your skin is elastic enough to accommodate your new girls!" "My new girls! How could she say that?" "For now, your old training bra will be fine so let's put that on you." I took the bra from mum and slipped the bra over my head. Luckily, I didn't have to fasten hooks in the back, it was one that didn't have hooks. Once settled into place, mum adjusted the sliders until my new 'girls' felt comfortable. I looked down at the final shape and couldn't believe that A+ size breasts could look so big! I knew that I could not hide these mounds and it would forever be necessary to wear a bra. I tried to smile but mum saw a frown, she quickly told me that my new dresses would fill out properly with my new assets. Oh of course, my new dresses! My smile grew in proportion to my happiness over my new shape. Tearing my eyes away from my bust, I looked up at mum, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, I can't wait till tomorrow morning mum!" and gave her a heartfelt hug. Mum smiled, well, let's explore your new look with your outfits. I put on my skirt and lovely satiny camisole. My bust was more pronounced than ever! Mum handed me a light crepe blouse which I buttoned up. Looking in the mirror, I fell in love with my new look. I saw mum behind me smiling as widely at me. I turned and hugged her again. "Thank you mum, I love this look!" Finishing dressing with new super thin knee-high sox and Mary Jane shoes, I was again in front of the mirror, swishing from side to side. I especially liked the sideways view where it was utterly obvious that I was a young girl developing her future charms! After a light breakfast, I asked if I could go over and see Joan. "Of course darling, but be home by midday." I walked over to Joan place and just before I knocked on the door, I could hear raised but muffled voices. "No, I won't wear a bra, I didn't want these breasts, get them off me!" Joan was pleading. Something of my mood changed as doubt crept into my mind. A second later I heard Lori say, "Joan, you will love how the bra matches your lovely new panties!" My doubts seemed to diminish slightly but were still there. Suddenly all was quiet. I felt self-conscious standing on the door step, ear to the door. What if someone saw me? I heard Lori ask Joan, "You like your panties don't you, your lovely pink frilly panties?" Silence inside but my heart beat increased. Panties, panties. Yes panties. I loved panties as much as dresses! I knocked at the door. I heard, "Now get yourself dressed while I see who it is." The door opened and Mrs Nesbit smiled looking me over, her eyes resting on my chest. Her smile grew wider, "Why Carol my your looking just lovely this morning. Please come in, Joan is still getting dressed, she won't be long." I came in and sat in the lounge room, Mrs Nesbit sitting next to me. "I love your new look Carol, you have certainly developed overnight! Joan has too, you'll see when she comes out." She leaned next to me and whispered quickly and quietly, "You love being feminine Carol, dresses, dresses, dresses are wonderful to wear." My heart was beating fast, my mind melting with desire for dresses. "But you should also think how wonderful to be a girly girl when you hear the word panties. Panties. Panties." My mind wasn't melting, THRUM. It had already melted in feminine delight. Yes, panties are so wonderful! THRUM Mrs Nesbit leaned back, letting me recuperate and slow my breathing. How I loved panties as much as dresses. I could just think straight again when Joan emerged from the hall way into the lounge. I could immediately see her breasts had also undergone a revolution! Her breasts were about as big as mine but accentuated in the tight-fitting pink cashmere short sleeved pullover. Her pale blue knee length cotton skirt only accentuated how girlish she looked. And I was so happy to see her. I jumped up from the couch and met her half way. "Wow, you look lovely Joan!" She was appreciative of my new look too. "I love how you look too Carol. Let's go to my room. I want to show you my new outfits" "Don't forget to show Carol your new collection of panties too Joan!" Mrs Nesbit called out. THRUM THRUM. I stumbled as did Joan. My heart raced and suddenly I desperate to see her new undies as my thoughts clouded over. I must have done something over at Joan's house, but my thoughts and memories were murky. I was walking down the path to my front door, my head clearing. I raised my hand to open the door and saw the now had soft looking feminine hands with oval shaped nail extensions a quarter inch past the ends of my fingers, they were painted a soft pink. Mum was hanging up the phone when I came in. She turned to smile at me and looking at my hands said, "Your nails look gorgeous Carol, come here and show me!" Mum must have been on the phone to Mrs Nesbit I thought, otherwise she would not have immediately looked at my hands which were at my sides. I walked over to her and raised my hands, palms down, fingers spread. "Oh honey, don't they look just gorgeous! You will have to keep up good nail care now." I smiled, looking down at my glistening pink nails. They were lovely and made me feel so feminine. "Mum, I'd love to, but I don't know how to do that, could you teach me?" I was puzzled how my nails came to be extended and painted. I had no recollection. Again, something didn't feel right, a niggle that was becoming more common and more troubling. After a light lunch of salad and chicken strips, mum had me sit on the couch so that we could look at styles of bras that we would be buying tomorrow. Mum sat next to me and opening the catalogue, she opened the middle page which showed girls about my age modelling a range of dresses. Mum leaned into me and said, "You love being feminine Carol, dresses, dresses, dresses are wonderful to wear." My heart suddenly beat faster as my eyes widened and I became fidgety, Of course on seeing and hearing dresses I did feel I wanted to be feminine. Still leaning close to me mum turned the page where I saw a variety of panties. Mum said while looking, "Panties, panties, panties!" Could my heart beat faster? I look at the wonderful garments, feeling that I should be more feminine. Turning another page, the bras were on display. Now mum said, "But you should also think how wonderful to be a girly girl when you hear the word bra, bra, bra, bra!" Oh, how I wanted to be the most girly girl ever! We looked at the bras on display and mum and I picked the most beautiful designs. Mum pointed to the various sizes, my current size A+ then to the B cup bras. "Don't the B cup bras look so much better darling?" I couldn't help but agree. "And the C cups are so feminine, but I think for your frame at 13, a girl of your age would look sooo feminine and girly with a B cup." Again, being immersed in talking about bras, looking at them in the catalogue, I was feeling so close to mum, so girly and feminine, I agreed with everything. I wouldn't be happy until I had at least six or seven bras in a size B cup, larger than what I had now. Primed now for a second round of breast enlargement, that night, I lay on my bed, just in my panties and let mum rub the special cream on my breasts. It felt so good! "Just think Carol, tomorrow we'll be able to go shopping for your new bras" Hearing that, I just wanted mum to get on with it. I was almost hyperventilating. Mum noticed, "Oh dear, I should have given you the tranquilizer like last night to calm you down and so you can get a good night's sleep. Hold on sweetie." Mum went out of the room and to the bathroom. She rummaged around for a bit and came back with a tablet and glass of water. "Here you go darling one," she said as she handed me the tablet and water. I swallowed the tablet and gulped down the water. Mum then put the mould back on my chest as I started to get sleepy. D?j? vu! It was morning, the light streaming through my window and again, mum was removing the mould and placed it on the bedside cabinet. What confused me was that the mould was still on my chest! But no, it wasn't, my chest had filled the mould and now I had at least B cup breasts. What shocked me more was that my areolae were now at least 2 inches across and thick nipples in the centre. They were not, or ever would be boy's nipples again. I sat up in shock, trying to push the breasts off my chest in fright. But no, it hurt when I hit them. "Carol, don't look so shocked, I told you this process would enhance your breasts! And now it has!" "But mom, I didn't think it would happen over just two nights!" I said as I felt their weight pull on my chest. "Just remember the new bras and matching panties we will be buying today. And the dresses darling!" Of course dresses, I was in love with dresses, I was suddenly calm and accepting, indeed, enthusiastic about my new breasts and the upcoming shopping trip! I climbed out of bed and to the bathroom for a shower. I sat at the toilet to relieve myself then wondered why I sat. I suppose a girl should sit to use the toilet so let the thought pass as I looked down at my new breasts. I cupped them in my hands, felt their weight and how they moved. I felt my hands on them. They were so much larger and heavier than just yesterday! As I touched the nipples, a shiver ran down my spine and settled further down to the base of my spine. They felt divine. I was happy with them as I played with my nipples, intensifying my pleasure and the shivers. I finished up, flushed and stepped into the shower. The feel of the stream of water on my new breasts felt sort of ticklish but I liked it. Soaping up a lather, I began washing myself. When it came to my new breasts, they felt sensitive, but I enjoyed the slippery feel of the lather over my soft flesh. Stepping out of the shower, mum was waiting with a warm towel. Unexpectedly, she gently patted me dry. "That's the way you should dry yourself now. Your skin is going to feel more sensitive, so no more harsh rubbing." Mum then told me to stand still. She took the floral smelling talcum powder and dusted my down. I smelled like a field of roses. I went back to my room. Mum had laid out a new outfit for me, a matching pink laced bra and panty set and a new blue dress that looked at least knee length. She turned around, smiling, to look at me as I approached. "Now what do you think darling? I couldn't help myself and bought you a new outfit to fit your new shape." "They're lovely mommy," I exclaimed. "Oohh honey. I like it when you call me mommy! You will have to call me mommy from now on!" I put on the panties, luxuriating in the feel as they settled into place but sad that there was still a visible bulge in front. With a smile, mummy picked up the delightful confection of a B cup bra. I held out my arms as mummy slid the bra up to my chest. Turning around, I could feel the bra being secured around my chest as I felt for the first time, the weight of my new breasts being supported. While looking down at my new cleavage, mum retrieved a pink, knee length dress with cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline from my cupboard. I looked up and she had already unzipped it at the back and was holding it, ready for me to step into. I stepped into the dress then mum slid it up, I put my arm through the short sleeves as it rose. I was soon zipped up, feeling the delightful feel of being encompassed, almost tightly hugged by this feminine garment around my chest and stomach, then the incidental caresses of the skirt as I moved. I slipped the ballet flats onto my bare feet and I was ready to go shopping entirely clothed as a girl. Mum led the way, opening the front door to the wide world. As happy as I was inside, being outdoors in such feminine finery suddenly made me feel unsure. Although outwardly still smiling for mum's sake, I thought, why should I feel uneasy? Looking down, seeing my dress, my hairless arms and newly painted nails, I realised that these weren't my normal clothes, and I was really a boy. But I loved being dressed this way, it was so lovely, feeling and looking feminine. Sitting in the car, on the way to the shops, I was piecing it together, again. Somehow, I must have been hypnotised to like this! I remembered Mrs Nesbit saying my catalyst word drr... dresses. Oh no! I loved them but I knew it was artificial, and I remember pp... panties! Oh, a new catalyst word. How had that happened? I had my boy mind back, but I knew I really liked what I saw, my breasts, the pink dress. I felt weird, loving it but knowing that I should hate it at the same time. I looked at my hands, pink enamelled long sculpted nails matching my new dress. Everything felt good but I knew it was not me. I knew that I had to fight these feelings, no matter how good I was feeling, and I was feeling happy as I was. I knew that my boy self was getting weaker. It was hopeless though, once we started shopping, my feminine feelings swamped my boyish identity, I could feel it getting weaker with every new dress I selected, with every new set of bras and panties I bought. I loved the girl in the mirror, her front and sideways silhouette. My wardrobe soon had more feminine clothing than my old boys' clothes. As a matter of fact, anything old or rough was soon donated to charity. Only my more androgynous boy clothing remained to balance my feminine clothing. Every day Joan and I fell more and more into girlhood, being comfortable with our new selves. Our transgender group of students soon became known to the general school population. Surprisingly, we were accepted for who we had become. The first day Joan and I wore dresses to school was traumatic at first, but we were relieved when our class mates seemed to not even make a fuss, as if it were the most natural thing in the world! From that moment, we felt the freedom to be the girls we were becoming and to indulge in feminine pleasures. Epilogue I am now in second year college, 500 miles from home. I'm sharing a dorm room with Joan as we both applied for the same course in psychology. In finishing my memories of how I became a girl, I can see how mum and Dr Smythe had turned me from an average boy into a girl. The old catalyst words no longer have any effect on me, after all, I love being a girl. Joan and I both had our gender confirming operations last year and we love it. I'm so glad I was started on hormones all those years ago as I stopped growing when I reached five foot five inches and developed typical wide hips any girl should have. I must print this off and hand it in to my lecturer Dr Smythe, she has a class of her former patients of which Joan and I are a part. I love learning how we came to be girls and when we graduate, would love to do as Dr Smythe has done and give other boys the opportunity to experience a feminine life!