Maria's Tale free porn video

The main character here is aligned to one member of our small social/support group who is a country mile ahead of the rest of us in passability, but lacks the confidence to make the most of the gift in anything other than events for crossdressers. The story itself is unintentionally longer than previous ones that I have posted, but it took a long time to write and kept hoovering up new sections. It is just a shame that I could not think of a decent ending, so if readers think the story stops a bit suddenly, you are completely correct. --------------------------------------------------- "Oh dear, Michael, oh dear." Michael froze with his back to his mother. She had caught him tinkering with her clothes a couple of times three years earlier. Under threat of dire consequences if he did it again, Michael had initially resisted a repeat, then saved up to buy his own bra and knickers set, with the bonus of enough left over to add a waist slip as well. From there he had been able to borrow a skirt or dress from his mother and carefully note to hang it back where it came from. Tights he could pick up as and when he needed a pair from a local shop. Finding time to clean his undies when nobody else was at home proved to be more difficult, but not impossible. He hoped that all his mother could see right now of his own purchases were black 15 denier tights, because he already had a purple a-line skirt of hers covering the lower half and a plain white shirt above the waist. That hope was forlorn as his bra was touch too tight (he had been generous with the tissue paper stuffing) and it could be seen biting slightly into his back. Michael turned to face his mother. "I do take it that you remember the promised punishment if I caught you at this again?" she said said sternly. Michael nodded grimly. He had devised a variety of escapes from this moment. Plan A was not getting caught. That had failed. Plan B was his mother not remembering her past warnings. That had failed. Plan C was to stand up for himself and refuse that punishment. Somehow, come the moment, he just was not able to do that. Hence the resigned acceptance. "Right, first thing is to get that skirt off, and the shirt as well." Michael hesitated and his mother took a threatening step towards him. Intimidated, he began to comply. "That is a nice bra set you have got yourself, a cute shade of pink," his mother noted when he had finished. Michael blushed at the compliment, and despite being utterly ashamed of the situation he found himself in, deep down he was pleased to have bought wisely. Out of fear he felt physically sick at having been caught and any sense of comfort developing at the token compliment was nipped in the bud as he was dragged over to his mother's vanity table. She brushed her hand on his cheek and chin and noted that he must have shaved just before starting out on the dressing exercise. Keeping his back to the mirror, she began a quick and simple make-up job on him. It pleased her to note that he complied with every instruction, not complaining or querying her actions. When finished he had a subtle mix of pale coloured eyeshadows but more conspicuous mascara and red lipstick, with a light touch of blush. When his mother turned him to face the mirror Michael's misery level lifted from abject to only normal dejection, as at least he was made up to look realistically feminine, rather than a caricature. A set of red stick on nails were waved in his face and he was shown how to apply them, then left to complete the set himself. He was amazed at how such a simple measure could make such a difference to how his hands looked, and his mother's brusque and business like manner prevented him from pausing enough to raise any objections. "Now Maria, on your feet." "Did you just, erm, call me Maria?" Michael asked, careful not to make it sound like he was objecting. "Yes, it was the name we had picked out had you been a girl. Better get used to answering to it." His mother had slowly lightened the tone of her voice as time passed with no signs of rebellion thrown back her way. She handed Michael a dark grey lined pencil dress. He knew it would fit as he had worn it before, but paused for help with the rear zip once he had it on. His mother obliged, and added a delicate gold necklace that ended in a heart pendant. Thinking that this was as far as they could go, his only worry was what would happen when his younger brother, Ben, came home, and then worse later, when his father returned from work. Perhaps he would be spared that ordeal. He was snapped away from his train of thought by his mother. "Now I have a surprise for you. I had this tucked away in the loft and just had to clean it up a bit." She produced a blonde wig, with very long straight hair that was a close match to her son's hair colour. Michael looked puzzled. "Cleaned it up?" he asked cautiously. "Of course. Don't think that this is all spontaneous. A few weeks ago you left an empty tights box in the recycling, and I knew that it was not one of mine. History said that you were the prime suspect. The master criminal always gets caught because of a simple careless error." She fitted a wig cap on Michael and then added the wig carefully, overly fussy if anything. She stood back and studied her handiwork. Anyone who knew him was either going to recognise Michael, or think that they had somehow seen some sort of long lost twin. With people he did not know, he had a fair chance of passing. Michael turned to face the mirror and came to the same conclusion, but hoped that he could hide in long blonde hair. "Now for surprise number two." She presented Michael with a pair of mid- heeled black court shoes in a suede finish. The heels were not too narrow at the bottom and she guessed that he should be able get the hang of walking in them quite quickly. Michael put them on, got to his feet and took an instant wobble. "Maria, push your bum back, and chest forward." Michael did as he was told and as expected was on top of the task quickly. More instructions were thrown at him. Stroll, not rush. Shorter strides. Keep a narrow gait - although the tightness of the skirt section of his lined dress was forcing him to keep his feet closer together than would normally have been the case. When she was happy with his progress, he handed him one of her old handbags. "Open it up!" Michael did as he was told. She dropped a few items in, with a commentary. "Make up mirror. You might need it. Lipstick. It is the one you are wearing, it's yours to keep. There is plenty of room for your own make up when we get it. A spare pair of tights, in case you run the ones you are wearing. Packet of wipes. Comb. Both self explanatory. And now pop your wallet and phone in there too." Again Michael did as instructed although he realised that anything that he needed to do would require a rummage in his handbag first, and it did not take a genius to pick up the hints that this was not going to be a one-off situation. Whilst distracted by that thought, he was given the finishing touch - a spritz of perfurme. For reasons unknown, that act gave the whole thing a sense of finality. Tears began to well up in Michael's eyes. "Please, mum, don't let anyone see me like this," he sniffled. "Don't you dare cry and spoil the make up. You started this and now I am just helping you to the next step. Now come downstairs with me." Michael wanted to resist but could not manage it, so he nodded and followed her to the stairs. He was getting accustomed to the shoes and had no trouble going down staits after he had measured his stride on the first couple. "Sit down there," his mother gestured to a living room chair. She was about to remind him to keep his knees together but saw that he did so anyway. It was possible that the tight dress forced it, but with his morale having visibly slumped since the perfume was brought into play, she decided it was time for another compliment. "Maria, well done for remembering to sit modestly, knees together." He looked up with puppy dog enthusiasm, wide eyed in hope of getting back on his mother's good side. Either that or he was adopting a severe anti- crying expression. It did not last long. "RIght, get yourself up," she ordered, "we are going for a short stroll and a chat." Michael looked horrified. He coud hear his brother kicking a football about in the front garden with some friends. They could not fail to notice him. And it was Saturday morning, so there were bound to be neighbours to bump into. He tried to form words to protest but even with his mouth wide open no words came out beyond a harsh croak. "Please close your mouth, Maria, there are no flying insects needing to be caught. And it's not very ladylike. Come on, get up." "I can't," rasped Michael, "my legs won't work." "You can and you will. Now give me your hand." Michael reached out and she pulled him to his feet. The tears were coming back and another warning, with added finger wag, was directed at Michael. He walked slowly to the front door, resorting to a pleading expression. His mother was stood with one hand on the latch and showing no signs of being about to let him off of the hook. "Now listen here, you soppy girl, this is something you brought upon yourself. We caught you at it when you were thirteen, gave you a fair warning, and here you are still slipping yourself into my clothes. So this stops if I say it does. Not you." Michael nodded forlornly, realising that he had left it too late to negotiate. He was utterly embarrassed about what had been done to him and what was going to happen on the other side of the of the door, and that was equalled by his failure to say stop at any stage of the process. He heard the latch turn and the door open, and felt his mother grab the crook of his elbow and lead him into the open air. It was as if his subconscious had switched off his sight, so that he could only hear and feel the humiliation. The first sound Michael heard was a football bouncing on the lawn as the game of keepy-uppy that his brother and his cronies were playing came to sudden end. Why could they have not stayed out all day, as they had originally said was their plan? There was a brief and awkward silence, that was broken by one of Ben's friends. "Ben, why is your brother dressed like a chick?" "I dunno, maybe he wants to pick up a guy?" "Ben, shut up," his mother said, not as stern in tone as that she had been using on Michael. All four of them did indeed shut up, each with a great smirk on their lips. In the garden next door, his close friend Olivia and two of her friends, Judie and Louise, appeared seemingly from nowhere, having been drawn by Ben's comments. Michael was mortified, because if there was one person that he hoped to avoid it was Olivia. With the rest of the world in joint second place. "Wow, Michael..." she began. "It is Maria now," Michael's mother told her. "Ohhh-kayy. Maria, that dress really looks great on you, and as I presume that you did not grow all that hair overnight, that is a cute choice of wig too." Michael wanted to reply, with some sort of explantion that he was being punished. It was not totally untrue but his mother beat him to it. "Michael needed to know what it was like to be a girl, so now she is Maria," she explained, rolling her eyes in faked exasperation. "We are just going for a short stroll to help him learn, would you like to join us?" Olivia glanced at her two friends, who both made it clear that a walk with a boy dressed as a girl was not on the agenda for their morning entertainment. "We have just got a couple of things to finish up," Olivia replied, "but can I pop in when you are back?" "Of course you can. See you later." His mother looked delighted, but Michael hoped that the ground would open up and swallow him. Surburban Hertfordshire is not known for earthquake activity, so Michael's hopes were not met. They had been walking for less than a minute when Michael spotted a couple of neighbours approaching, Mr and Mrs Sutton who lived just a few doors away. "Good morning, Jo," they greeted, "and good morning to..." "Maria," Michael's mother replied. "And who is Maria?" asked Mrs Sutton. Michael had one fleeting moment of faith that they had not recognised him. Unfortunately his mother then replied. "She is what happens when Michael makes some daft comment about how things are very easy for girls, and then gets himself tricked into finding out whether it was true or not." "That seems a bit drastic," commented Mr Sutton. His wife giggled. "I do hope that you enjoy it, Maria," she said. "You look very sweet." Michael blushed. His mother nudged him, and he took the hint that a reply was expected. "Thank you, Mrs Sutton," he mumbled. As they moved on, Michael heard Mrs Sutton add, not entirely just for her husbands benefit. "I always knew that kid was odd, but I wasn't expecting that." Once out of the immediate area around their house, the two walkers found that Maria did not draw an extra glance, with one or two exceptions, and those were only mildly inquisitive about the strangers passing by. His mother gave him an intermittent lecture on maintaining feminine mannerisms, and Michael did his best to comply. However every little hint that Jo dropped made Michael incredibly self-conscious that he was giving himself away with every step. It was not that busy outside, but he wondered how many people were peeking out from behind their curtains, just to sneer at him. He did overlook the fact that none of people outdoors took much notice of him, possibly because Michael tended to close his eyes as he went near them, so he could not see their often non-existent stares. Well, he did so until his mother ordered him to not be so daft. They completed a leisurely circuit of their mostly quiet local streets, and as they returned Michael was relieved to note that neither Ben nor Olivia had rounded up a big crowd of gawpers. He did spot a little group of younger kids hiding behind a wall and giggling. Just as Michael felt that the ordeal was over, another near neighbour, Mrs Parford, bustled out from her house. "Jo! Maria!" she called, "would like to come in for a cup of tea." Michael knew what the answer would be, and knew from her greeting how fast news of his transformation had got around. "That would be lovely, thank you," his mother replied. They followed Mrs Parford indoors and she gestured for them to take a seat in her living room. A couple of minutes later she returned with three teas. "Do I take it, Maria, that you have been a naughty boy?" "No, she actually hasn't,"interrupted his mother, "Maria, tell Della what this is all about." Michael's plan to blame it on a punishment was again blocked. "Well, Mrs Parford, I am not sure how the conversation went that way, but I ended up saying to Mum that I wondered what it was like to be a girl, and once it was said, she insisted that I must give it a try." Michael took a sip of tea, and noticed the lipstick mark left behind on the cup. "I must say, you have done it very well," Della told him, "I might never have known if Olivia had not told me." Initially Michael thought that he had been betrayed by his best friend, but then he realised that she had only passed on what she had been told, so relating the basic facts as she knew them was hardly a betrayal, just a bit inconsiderate. Della continued. "What have you most enjoyed about being a girl?" This was a very difficult question for Michael to answer. He did not want to give away that this was not a totally new experience, nor did he want to appear to be too enthusiastic. There was also the option of nominating having boobs as favourite, but that risked the wrath of his mother, so Michael tried for what seemed a very safe option. "The shoes are an interestingly different experience." "Better than having boobs?" Della asked. Michael laughed nervously, nearly choking on his tea. The conversation after that was just small talk to see out their drinks. As Maria and Jo left, Della told them that she would be delighted to see more of Maria. Jo told her that it was possible, leaving Michael with a sinking feeling in his stomach yet again. As they made the short remaining walk home, Olivia's two friends left her house and passed them as they headed in the opposite direction. "See you soon, sissy," Judie said with out of place sweetness. Michael groaned. * * * * * It was slight relief to find that Ben and his his cronies had disappeared, but then Michael worried that they had dispersed to tell as many people as possible what Ben's brother was up to. The orders from his mother were to stay on the sofa and read a copy of 'Marie Claire' magazine that she handed him, from cover to cover. As time passed it was becoming apparent that Maria was still going to be present when his father got home. The thought terrified him, and whilst being left alone ought to have been a small relief, it just gave Michael time to think of all the bad things to come, of which going to shcool on Monday loomed as by far the worst. That was going through his mind when his mother ushered Olivia into the room. "So how is it going being a girl?" she asked cheerfully. Michael tried to answer but he choked up and the dam burst. He was immediately in floods of tears. Olivia tried to maintain the cheerful tack. "It's not that bad - millions of girls do it on a daily basis." That did not work and there was a awkward hiatus as Michael continued sobbing. Michael's mother joined in, taking the good cop, bad cop approach. "Stop crying, you big baby," she said, pulling his hands away from his face. "This was your choice." Michael realised that he could not contradict her without incriminating himself, and yet again found himself with no retort. "And now your eye make up is ruined." "Don't worry, I'll redo it," volunteered Olivia. "Thank you. There is a make up bag on the left hand side of my vanity. That is Maria's. It might be helpful to teach her to do it herself." When she had Michael sat down in front of the mirror, Olivia wiped away the messy post-tears remnant and replaced the earlier work, talking Michael through what she was doing. When finished, she cleaned it off and got Michael to do it himself. It was not a great success, so she made him try a second time. By the third try, he had done a passable work, and Olivia just tidied up any loose ends. As he stood up, Olivia edged behind him and started a hug, her hands feeling his breasts as she did. "Feeling better now?" she asked. He nodded and headed for the stairs. She followed him and Michael felt her carressing his buttocks gently as she did. It was a pleasant feeling but he could not help imagining that Olivia was edging him out of any form of masculine role and into the feminine. He blushed at the thought. And just as he reached the foot of the stairs, his father came into the house through the front door. "Dad..." he started. "No need to start waffling, Maria," his father said brusquely, "this is all your own doing." Michael was again lost for words. Olivia broke the silence with a round of goodbyes as she made her exit. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow?" Michael nodded. The rest of that evening involved plenty of long silences between terse conversations. Whenever they were alone, Michael was subject to all sorts of insults from his younger brother, but just as wearing a bra, knickers, hosiery and dress somehow stopped him defending himself against his mother, it had the same effect against his brother. When it was time for bed his mother made sure all of the make up was wiped clean and then presented him with a light cotton nightdress to wear - white with pink butterflies on it - and he headed for bed. Initially all the hints that there was more to come tomorrow kept him awake, but somehow he drifted off to sleep. * * * * * Michael woke up towards the end of horrible dream. He was at his wedding, but nobody would believe that he was the groom and they were trying to make him dress as the bride as the time for the ceremony was approaching. He was not sure, but he might have just given in to the consensus when he woke up. Once he was up and moving around, his mother put her head around the door. She handed him some depilatory cream and told him to put it on for a few minutes before he showered. He was also told to wear the same bra and knickers as on Saturday - not that he had a second set - and she also gave him a new packet of Levante tights to use, the same brand as he already had but in the visione shade rather than black. After the shower he ran his hands softly up his newly smoothed legs, enjoying the feel a great deal. Although Michael did not need to shave every day yet, he felt it was prudent to do so in these circumstances. In his room he donned his pale pink bra and the matching knickers. Yesterday they had been like an iron weight around his neck, but somehow today he had a slight influx of optimism. Might the worst be over? At her invitation, he sat at his mother's mirror and put on his make up, using on her suggestion a less pale palette than the day before, with brown the dominant colour. He did it quite well, with only two trivial corrections needed, and she showed him how to add a touch of mascara this time. He then added his wig, and finally the necklace that now seemed to belong to him. Michael looked puzzled. Surely he was not going anywhere in just his lingerie? At least the waist slip gave him some modesty around the groin. Then his mother appeared with a yellow sun dress. It buttoned up at the front, and came down to mid-calf. "You will be needing something that you can pop off quite easily," his mother explained, "because today, Maria, we will be going out shopping for a dress of your own." "No..." "Oh yes, Maria. You will be doing this." "No, no, no. Why?" whined Michael. He felt very light-headed and feared that he might faint. "You know perfectly well why." Michael pouted, then looked at her pleadingly, but gave in when he could see that this was getting no sympathy. He slipped on the dress with his hands shaking and pulled it up, slowly buttoning the front because his fingers would not allow it to be done quickly. Whilst this was being dragged out for as long as possible, his mother brought in a pair of wedge heeled espradrilles, dangling them in front of his face. "Just for you!" she teased. Michael took them and started to put the first one on. Getting his leg at a comfortable angle to thread the ankle strap through the buckle and attach it took some working out. The second shoe proved to be less awkward, but more practice was needed. The heels were higher than the shoes that he wore a day earlier, but Michael found the wedge heels helped him adapt easily. After a brief breakfast of tea and toast, his mother ushered him out to the car. As they headed towards the Galleria shopping centre Michael felt sick to the pit of his stomach, but as they were close to what he was certain would be the end of his social life forever (what was left of it) his mother turned the car off to the peripheries of Hatfield town centre. She turned off of the main road and pulled into the private parking behind a row of shops. "What is happening here?" asked Michael, by now finding himself less nauseous and more curious. "I decided to give you a break," his mother told him, "Sally volunteers at a big charity shop and they had some nice dresses for you in stock. She agreed to open up for a little while today just for you." Michael was both mortified that his mother had let someone else in on his situation but was also relieved that he did not have to go trawling around the main shopping centre at risk of bumping into plenty of people that he knew. Sally was a long term friend of his mother, and actually his godmother, so it was unrealistic to think that she would not have got involved in this activity, for which there had been no attempt at discretion anyway. Sally let them into the shop with a big smile on her face and a greeting without a hint of sarcasm. "Morning Jo, morning Maria, you are looking very sweet today." Michael blushed. "Thank you." "Jo, I have laid out the ones that you picked on Thursday, so I will leave you to get on with it." The shop had a small changing cubicle and Sally ushered them towards it. His mother handed Michael a pink dress and gestured towards the cubicle. "Slip your dress off and give this one a look," she ordered. Michael went to pull the curtain across but his mother stopped him. "Nobody else is coming in and I don't think Sally is bothered about seeing you in your bra and knickers." For a moment Michael resented the use of "your dress," "your bra" and "your knickers" but to his shame it was accurate. The items had either been bought by him for himself or handed over to him. The dress he was wearing was one he recognised but did not remember his mother wearing it in quite a while, so he suspected that it may now be his. With a sigh he unbuttoned the yellow dress and let it slide off of his shoulders. The feel of it easing down his nyloned legs was, he noted, very pleasant. He would have liked to have done the same again, but the chance would come with the clothes yet to try. He stepped into the pink dress and his mother fastened the buttons in the rear. It had three-quarter length sleeves, a fairly high neckline, bits of lace trim at various places and came dwn to mid-calf. The skirt section was broadly A-line and bobbed gently clear of his shins when he moved. "What do you think?" asked his mother. Michael looked at himself in mirror next to the cubicle. "Erm... it's a bit...nerdy," he suggested. "Agreed," replied his mother and handed him a second garment. "Try this instead." Once unbuttoned, Michael repeated the trick of letting the discarded dress caress his legs. He reached down to recover it by bending at the knee, as his mother had instructed the day before. Jo noticed and was satisfied that he was listening to what she told him. The new item was very different. The top section was black and sleeveless, made of a soft and stretchy material. The skirt section was quite thick and rigid, and again A-line, which made it stand out from from his legs, but this time at mid-thigh. Michael's first impression once he had pulled it up was that he liked it. Then he looked in the mirror. The tight elasticated top drew attention to his breasts as if he was walking around with a flourescent arrow pointing them out. That was not at all what he wanted. His mother did not even ask about the dress, just raised a querying eyebrow. "No, not really. It's just for people who want to be looked at," Michael explained. "Some girls want that." "I don't. Next!" That brought a wry grin to Jo's face at the way that her son was just about drifting into the shopping experience. So she offered him a black cocktail dress. It was sleeveless with a lace section over the shoulders, and a black cloth flower attached on the left breast. Michael held it up and decided it was the best yet. He put it on then held up is hair whilst his mother fastened the button at the back of the neck. It felt nice but when he looked in the mirror, the hem barely came below his groin. In a different way it was just as attention grabbing as the second one. He looked at his mother. "If only it was a bit longer," he said. "You might get away with it if you never move or sit down," she replied. They were interrupted by Sally chuckling. "Mother and teenager arguing over the length of a dress, how very typical. Except the girl should be the one wanting the hemline higher and the mother lower." Michael was about to point out that he was not a girl, but did not think it would go down all that well, so he held out his hand for dress number four. It was a silver sequined dress, with a very faint pale blue border amongst the sequins at the very bottom. It was sleeveless, short but not indecently so and the wide shoulder straps held the neckline high enough to hide the fact that the contents of his bra were not natural. Michael liked it, but realised that it was something to wear for a night out, and that was something he was keen to avoid. He spent long enough looking at it in the mirror that Jo idly speculated whether he had hypnotised himself with the shimmer from the sequins. "You like that one?" she verbally nudged him. "Yes, but when would I wear it? Let's try the last one." Jo handed it over. It was a light green cotton print dress with a pattern of small flowers in white, pink and navy. After she had zipped up the back for him, she noted that the neckline was again not too low and unlike the last dress, the short sleeves helped Michael look narrower at the shoulders. The skirt was nicely floaty and the hem lay just above knee level. The carefully organised sequence to make Michael get more relaxed by introducing gradually more suitable options seemed to have worked. From the expression on his face Jo could tell that Michael was going to choose the dress that he had be subtlely directed towards and as she walked behind him she could see nothing that would lead anyone to think he was anything other than a tall, slender girl. She could not wait for the waist cincher that she had ordered online to be delivered, just to make his figure properly feminine. "OK, Sally, I think we are done," she called. "Michael, leave that one on to go home in and I can have my dress back." Jo had not worn the yellow sundress for a while but after seeing it adorn Maria, she had decided to rectify that soon. She helped Sally hang up the first three rejections, but popped the sequined one into her bag. "I have a feeling that this one will be needed as well," she winked to Sally. Sally turned to Michael and held up a black miniskirt. "Would you like this one for school?" she asked innocently. "No thank you," Michael mumbled. He had assumed that this experience of being a girl was coming to an end when the school week began. "What about this one? It is size 12, one size down from your dresses, but it will fit because you have a nice slim waist. The skirt is stretch to fit too. It will suit you." Sally was holding up a narrow chocolate brown skirt with a slight ruffle at the hem. "We'll take it," Sally jumped in before Michael could reply. "Now Maria, pay up." Michael rummaged in his bag for his wallet. When he got it out, Sally was not impressed. "Ooh, that is a bit mannish. Call it twenty-five pounds and I will thrown in this." She picked up a more feminine purse from the shelves. Michael, as usual, just did as he was told. Then Sally pulled out a bag from under the till counter and handed it to Michael. "These are presents from me." Michael thanked her and took the bag, which contained three packages. He opened the first and it took out a wide cuff bracelet and a couple of narrow bangles. Sally told him to try them on and when the fit was proven to be good, his mother told him to leave them on. The second item was wrapped in tissue paper. He pulled the paper apart and took out a satin burgundy chemise. He guessed from the third item that it was hosiery but when he saw that they were hold up stockings he could not help but let out a little gasp. They were ten denier in black, made by Le Bourget. "Thank you very much, Sally, you have been very kind today," he told her. "It was fun for me too. It is not everyday that I have the chance to play with a sissyboy who cannot stay out of his mother's wardrobe." Michael hung his head. Once again he had been built up to be confident and then shot down at the end of the scene being played out, although there was no tone of malice in Sally's words. As they were leaving and closing up the shop, Sally invited them over to the coffee shop opposite her establishment. The trio went in, placed their order and took a seat. "I do think that we will need to pop into the town centre after all. You can't wear the same undies every day," Jo mused. "But I won't make you try anything on. What is your bra size?" "Thirty-eight B," Michael replied quietly. "Oooh, how sweet," smiled Sally. "My godson knows his bra size." As with her parting shot in the shop, that barb cut Michael to the core, but again there was nothing on her face that indicated an intention to show disapproval. Perhaps she really did enjoy the sudden appearance of Maria. After they eased through their coffees with generic small talk and as they returned to their cars, and before getting into hers, she offered Michael a conspicuous farewell air kiss. Michael reciprocated. "Actually, Sally, can you drop us off near the Galleria. We will walk back to the car after picking up a couple of things?" Jo asked. Sally was happy to do that. Michael squeezed into the back of her car, sitting down and swinging his legs in with knees together, to the approval of both women. It was only a short drive but he was subject to barrage of questions from Sally. Most of them he had not thought about before, but she really did not give him much chance to answer anyway. He realised that she was giving him a hint of things that he should have thought about. What are your favourite type of shoes? Favourite type of dress? Favourite colour for a skirt? Favourite colour for a bra? Preferred brand of cosmetics? How do you prefer you hair - up or down? Long or short? It was exhausting just being caught without an instant answer. * * * * * After Sally had dropped them off, the first stop was Boux Avenue. Michael was extremely nervous as his mother showed him a variety of bra sets and made it quite clear that they were not going to just grab the first one and flee. His mother advised a darker colour for use with different clothes than worked with his current pink bra. He eventually settled on a black satin balconette design, with a subtle black lace pattern over the cups. It came with a choice of briefs or thong, and he opted for the briefs, which just looked more tempting in satin and lace. When they left the store Michael turned right to head back to car. "Hold on Maria! We will need to visit the M&S outlet to get you some more knickers," said Jo, grabbing her son by the arm. Michael was not pleased as he had caught some stares from other people and was keen to get home, although they all seemed to be fourteen year old boys. "Congratulations on becoming a sex symbol for younger teenaged boys," his mother smiled. "What's wrong with them?" "They are just hormonal teenagers. Like you were a couple of years ago. Perhaps we should get a bikini for you to show off in?" Jo knew that her son was a bit of a wallflower so this was quite a tease. "I don't think so." Michael looked more terrified than ever, so Jo did not push the issue. Once they were in M&S, she again enforced some browsing, telling him that he had to select a multipack so that he would have a clean pair every day. He picked one of cotton boy shorts. There was a pair in each of white, navy blue and pink, plus one in navy with pink spots and one in white with navy spots. Each had a narrow band of contrasting colour on the waist and legs and a small bow in the front. His plan was that if he had to wear them to school, there was a chance that he could get away with the white and blue pairs going undetected. This time the pressure was increased by his mother forcing Michael to pay for them at the till. Fortunately it was a purchase with no significant talking point, so a thank you smile and the briefest word with the sales lady was all that he needed. It took them half an hour to walk back to their parked car. The only incident of note was when a car coming from behind them sounded the horn as it got near, frightening Michael out of his skin. The windows on the near side were both wound down and a couple of young men shouted something unintelligible but clearly lewd, then sped away. "What was that all about?" Michael asked aloud, not expecting an answer. The one he got worried him slightly. "They were coming from behind us. They see a young woman, long blonde hair, nice dress, great legs. Both of their brain cells get in each others way." "Me?" "Sure. You saw yourself in the mirror. You make a nice looking girl and plenty of men prefer tall and slender blondes, even those ones that would not lose a battle of wits to a snail. That is something you have to learn to deal with." His mother put on an expression of mock surprise. "Sorry, I will be busy dealing with everyone knowing that I spent a weekend dressed as a girl and treating me like dirt." "Well, you know who is to blame for that." * * * * * Upon returning home, Michael was made to assist his mother in preparing Sunday lunch. Once that was finished and the cleaning up done he went to his room. That did not keep him away from snide comments from Ben, so after a while he began a phone chat with Olivia. She remained sympathetic, even when he referred to the "idiots in the car" incident. Eventually she suggested he went next door to her house. Michael breezed down the stairs and told his parents that he was just popping next door. Jo smiled at him taking the next step of going out alone, even for such a short distance. Olivia told him that her father was out playing golf and her mother was dozing in the garden, so they would be fine in the living room, free of distractions. Her mother was being treated for a long term condition and the medication had a side effect that made her very drowsy. All of a sudden Michael felt very guilty that he could not even remember the name of the condition and doubly guilty of being jealous that Olivia got such a free rein from her parents as a consequence when he was just about to unleash a list of his self induced woes on Olivia again. She listened patiently as Michael embarked on an unnecessary repetition of their phone chat a few minutes earlier. When he had finished he looked him in the eye purposefully. "What you have forgotten is that you told your mum that you would give being a girl a try when she called your bluff." Michael was happy that this white lie was being sustained, but perhaps his mother's pride would also be dented by telling the real tale. "And secondly, which she might've guessed, you are a hot girl Maria. Long blonde hair, super legs, and by the way that is a really great dress for showing them. Where d'ya get it?" "Charity shop. It wasn't expensive" "Give us a twirl, to see the full fit." Michael obeyed and Olivia nodded her approval. She then told him to do it once more, but slower. When his back was to her, she leapt up and brandished what had been a concealed weapon - a serving spoon. She lifted up the skirt and gave him a solid rap across the rear end. "Yowwwww!" yelped Michael. He tried to get away from her but Olivia landed several more significant blows before he managed to break free and face her. "What was that for?" he sniffled. "Well, Maria, I have noticed that you have been very good at doing what you are told by everyone else, and I wanted to make sure that it would be true with me as well." "But you haven't asked me to do anything." "Not yet. But ever since we were kids, when we were together we always ended up doing what you wanted to do. When I wanted to do something more for girls, you just wandered off. Now, Olivia is in charge, and Maria listens." "I'm sorry, I never realised. I suppose it seemed the other way round to me. When you lost interest in what we were doing, you drifted off and left me on my own. And you always had other girls your age as friends anyway," Michael replied. "To start making up for the past, what I think you should do now is lift up your skirt." Michael obeyed. "A bit further." He obeyed again despite leaving a situation where Olivia could see his knickers. "See, you're even wearing nice undies. Does your bra match?" Michael nodded. "Now turn around and face the wall." "Please, Olivia. Don't." He was sniffling again. "Face the wall." Her voice was neither threatening nor angry, she was simply confident that Maria would do as she was told. Olivia was correct. "Are you frightened of me?" Michael did not answer. "Answer. Are you frightened?" This time Michael nodded, and Olivia, knowing that he would not see, smiled. In the relationship with Maria, she was the leader. To reinforce this, she gave him three more hefty strikes on the buttocks. "Now you may lower your dress Maria. I hope that I won't have to do that again." She sat down and patted the sofa to indicate that Michael should follow. He realised that even if he was lucky enough to never be Maria again (apart from very much in private) this episode where he was physically intimidated by his smaller next door neightbour would be hard to overcome. Olivia brandished a glossy magazine and told him that this was where Maria started doing things that interested Olivia. She flicked through to the fashion section. Michael surprised himself on how much he had to contribute to the conversation and even though it was mostly negative as the styles shown seemed to be a competition as to which clothes could provide least body coverage, Michael could at least explain from his brief experiences what it was that he did not like about them. After that they moved on to a section that showed various make up styles and in this case he found some of those shown to be quite appealing. They next moved onto the hair section. "I don't think you need to worry about this, because you've got it going on with your hair as it is," Olivia told him. Michael pondered whether it would be worth investing in a shorter wig of a different shade. Olivia had auburn hair, not as long as Michael's but she usually had it in a pony tail anyway, so it was hard to tell. She loitered over a couple of the blonder styles. Michael took the hint. "Your hair is really nice," he told her. "It might be a bit inconvenient at times but if you wore it loose more often, you might get to like it more." "I do like it...most of then time," she replied, "but I would like it better if it was blonde." Michael rolled his eyes. Perhaps he had known Olivia and her hair colour too long, but he could not imagine that her hair being blonder equated to it looking better. The discussion continued, covering all sections of the magazine, before Olivia brought the interaction to an end. "Thanks for the company, Maria, I really enjoyed it," she told him. "So did I," Michael replied, being honest only in regards to the later section. * * * * * When Michael returned home, his mother told him that he needed to spend some time practicing putting on his make up. She handed him her tablet and told him that she had bookmarked a couple of online tutorials. Using her vanity he got working on the task, calling her in to check up on the completed looks that he managed. He even tried to replicate a couple of the magazine styles from memory, but one was not possible due to lacking the right shades of eyeliner and eye shadow and another proved to be a bit beyond his skills, although he felt with a couple more tries he could get there. With school on the schedule for the next day, Michael made doubly sure that he had cleaned off every last trace of make up before going to bed. He was told to wear the nightdress again and he was nervous that he would be forced to head to school in a skirt on Monday. Overnight he had another odd dream. In one of those odd implausibilities that make dreams function, Olivia had somehow become the Queen (which incidentally was not enough influence to get her hair blonde) and to illustrate her authority she made her fiance, Michael, crossdress permanently. Worse, he was continually being harrassed by the press to reveal where he got his clothes, what lingerie brands her wore, who did his hair etc. When he woke up and had showered, his mother broke some good news - no girls clothes for school. It was only a small relief, because he did not trust Ben or his friends to keep quiet about the weekend, nor Olivia's two friends that he only knew less well and anyone else who may have passed it on second hand or further. He resolved to put on a brave face. When he arrived at school, there was inevitably a bunch of fellow students eagerly awaiting him. "Heard about your gay hobby," was the opening salvo. "It isn't a hobby, it was a one-off. And it wasn't gay," he replied as nonchanantly as possible. "Well it isn't normal parading around in a dress for two days." "Ask the girls, they do it quite a lot." "But you ain't a girl." "And you're a barely a human being." "Did you wiggle your arse at the boys?" "No, of course I didn't." The repartee kept on for a short while, all of it far from the realms of sharp humour and becalmed in a sea of cheap insult, before Michael lost his patience. "Right, shut up and let me explain properly," he yelled. To his surprise, the hubbub did subside a great deal. "A litle while ago I said something stupid, can't even remember exactly what it was now, but my Mum was moaning about something on telly and I said it was something that was easy for girls. She said that I wouldn't know because I wasn't a girl and dared me to try it. I thought she would put some lipstick on me and make me wear a skirt for a couple of hours. Instead she insisted that I go all the way, no excuses." "You could have said no," snapped one of the boys. Michael sensed that he may be winning over some of the girls, so kept talking. "Yeah, I could've said no. But that would be not keeping my word. I should've checked the terms at the very beginning." "That's weak." "Being a player and a bad loser is weak." Michael was not sure that this fitted the scenario but he had the verbal initiative, he was certain he was too clever for the noisiest taunters and any time someone paused to think, there was always another to dive in and move the conversation elsewhere. "Are you wearing knickers now?" "No!" said MIchael indignantly. There was a demand to prove it, so he did. "Jack Willis said you looked like a hot girl." Jack was one of Ben's friends. "Jack Willis would think a melon stuck on a broom handle was hot. He's not very bright." The crowd began to disperse, and whilst there were a smattering of accusations and insults to come, Michael batted them away effectively. Although he had not noticed her, being hidden amongst taller people in the crowd, the last people left were Olivia, Judie and Louise "Well handled," noted Olivia. "I was expecting it to be worse," he admitted. "Yeah, suppose it could have been. Good job that you weren't wearing knickers when they asked. By the way, do pop in tonight. Got a couple of things to mention. I suppose you will be keeping a low profile at lunch break?" "Earthworm low." "Just message me if you need some moral support." Michael thanked her and headed to his first class. Judie patted him on the bum as he went past, and smiled coyly as he looked at her. There were some people in that class who had missed his extended spontaneous Q&A on arrival, and they had all colluded in referring to him as Maria. It seemed the best policy was to ignore them until he had a devastating riposte. None of those popped up in his head so at lunch time he bolted for the school's library for some private study. The afternoon passed with only minor barbs too and once the school day ended Michael ensured that he was gone and away too quickly for any closing incident to have occurred. When he made it home his mother told him to get changed into Maria, but did not give any orders on what to wear. "How was school today?" she asked before he headed to his room to change. "Could've been a lot worse," he told her. After a brief pause he added to it. "Thanks for not making me wear knickers today. That might have been a problem." "I am not an fool, that would have been asking for trouble. Now off you go, I may need a hand with dinner soon." Michael traipsed upstairs, now mentally on the backfoot as he did still hoped Maria would be a weekday phenomenon, despite the additional underwear purchased, and he had expected a few days to come up with a plan. He did not really know what he needed a plan for, but the concept consoled him that he was doing something to regain some control of the situation. When he had borrowed his mother's clothing it was solely about what he wore, not about looking like a girl. He did not dislike the idea of being completely transformed into Maria, but ideally it would be occasional and in private, not daily and in public. It seemed to Michael that he was expected to do something different from Saturday and Sunday. He started at the make up table, pale around the eyes within minimal mascara. He did not think that the red lipstick was a good fit but he had no other and that using one of his mother's was not the done thing. Next came the new black bra but he switched to the cotton multipack for his knickers and opted for the plain navy blue pair. Whilst he was tempted to wear his new hold up stockings, it did not seem that this was the occasion, so he went back to the tan tights that he had worn a day earlier. Next to add was the stretchy brown skirt, which was very snug. That left a bit of an awkward bulge in front, so Michael had to go back to basics and tuck himself away. The briefs and tights proved very helpful in holding things in place. What was missing from his choices was a girl's top to finish the outfit. He rummaged for something that would not look out of place but did not have an option. He was about to use a Batman t-shirt with just the bat logo as a compromise but had a flash of inspiration and instead went for a yellow polo shirt from the tennis club that the whole family used. It also gave him the idea to push back slightly against orders and wear a pair of plain white tennis shoes. He put on his necklace and wig and returned to the kitchen. "Not wearing your espadrilles?" enquired his mother. "The tennis shoes seemed to be the right casual option." "OK. I will give you that one, it does look right, although shoes that are more obviously a girl's style would help. And you need to get yourself a top to go with the skirt." Michael nodded. Jo was ready to take back the initiative after letting Michael make a couple of his own decisions. She brandished a violet coloured scrunchie at him. "Turn around and I'll put this on for you." Michael obeyed and could feel his mother gathering the hair of his wig to feed it into the scrunchie, which she fixed in place with an extra twist. "That ponytail is a better fit to your look tonight than just letting it hang loose." Michael swung his head left to right, and the feel of the pony tail moving freely and wider was fun, of a sort. "Now stop messing about and get the table ready for dinner." "Yes, Mum." "And by the way," Jo added, "There are a group of us going for drinks for Saffie's birthday on Friday, but we are meeting at Sally's for cocktails first. You are too young to come out later on, but Sally has invited Maria to the meet up at her house. She WILL be attending." Michael gulped. This would be pushing his challenge further still but first impressions were that a small group of adults would give him less grief than any group of school age kids. That was proven at dinner, where, as with the past couple of days, his parents consistently dealt with him as Maria whereas Ben just treated him with contempt. When they had finished, he messaged Olivia to check that it was a good time to pop over. Having got the OK, he nipped around the front gardens and knocked on the door. Olivia's mother answered. "Oh, hi Mic... Maria. Livvy's upstairs, just pop up." "Thanks." Michael knew that in recent months Olivia had taken a dislike to being called Livvy, but he was a bit shy about correcting her mother given his current circumstances. When he was at the top of the stairs, he could see that Olivia was not alone. Judie and Louise were with her. He tended to refer to them as Juju and Lulu, but not to their faces, just in case Olivia did not like her friends have nicknames that sounded like a slapstick comedy duo. She used to call them Ju and Lou, but, amazingly, just at a similar time that Olivia decided her shortened name was undesirable, Judie and Louise did the same. Michael had not always got on with them as he was a bit jealous of the time that Olivia was with them when he wanted her undivided attention, and he sensed they thought the same way about him, so he was steeled for some insults when he saw that they were present. "Hi there Maria," greeted Olivia, echoed by the other two. Michael nodded in acknowledgement. Then Judie spoke up. "Maria, we are sorry for running off on Saturday. It was all a bit weird and we did not get what was going on." "Yeah," added Louise. "It's fine," he replied, "you were right that things were weird." "Once Olivia gave us the full story we felt a bit guilty. Looks like you are not being let off with an easy passage," continued Judie. Michael was a bit bemused what they had to feel guilty about - it was his mother who had paraded him around the neighbourhood in girl's clothing for all to see. "Mum bought me some things and I don't think that I am going to be released until I've worn them all." "What have you got left to wear? That skirt suits you, by the way." Olivia put in. "Thanks. There is one more dress. It is quite shimmery 'cos it's covered in sequins." "Anything to go with it?" Judie asked. "A chemise and some hold up stockings as well." "I actually meant jewellery," laughed Judie, "but the lingerie sound as if you are going for a sexy look. When will you be showing it off?" "Mum is making me go to a thing on Friday evening. It sounds a bit of an occasion, so I expect then." "Do let us know so we can see you." "OK. But by the time I have done my make up I probably will not have time to come here." That sentence made Michael suddenly self-conscious about all the girlish things that he was doing and he blushed after saying it. "Don't worry," Olivia giggled, "we will definitely be sneaking a peek from the window." Michael felt that this was every reason to be worrying. He would need to provide a misleading time for them to be waiting at the window. Olivia continued. "On the subject of make up, that is not really the right lipstick for your casual look." "I know," he agreed, "but it is the only one I have." Judie told him to hold still, steadied his head and removed the red lipstick with one dextrous sweep of a wipe. She rummaged in her bag and produced a lipstick tube. She told him to try it and when he removed the lid and wound it up, it was a pale pink colour. He hesitated and Judie gestured her encouragement. The girls watched enraptured as he took his own make up mirror from his bag and carefully applied the new cosmetic to his lips. When done, he offered the tube back to Judie. "Keep it as a gift. You have got the hang of this really well, so you will need a wider range of options." Michael popped the lipstick into his bag. "Thanks." Judie gave him a hug and he felt obliged to reciprocate but as he bent down to hold the shorter girl, he found the breast to breast contact awkward to deal with, even though his own were not real. He had packed the bra tightly again and the lack of flexibility meant that he and Judie were making a sort of arms length hug, that could have just as easily been a superglue accident. Whilst they were doing this strange dance, Olivia nipped into her own room and came back with her hands hidden behind her back. "If you are going to a formal evening, you will need a posh bag. The one you've got is not bad for general use. I borrowed this one from my Mum a couple of months ago and she has forgotten to ask for it back. Just like everything else that she forgets. I can lend it to you." Olivia held out to Michael a small black handbag. It was in dimpled black leather, closed by a fold over flap on the front. The gold coloured buckle had a logo on it that Michael did not recognise. "You've all been so understanding," he told them, cueing more hugs, with the same proximity problems as before. Michael resolved that the least he could do was actually tell them the correct time that he would be leaving on Friday. He realised it could seem a bit arrogant that his gift to them was providing them an opportunty to watch him get into the car, but so far they had asked for nothing else. However, there was more to come. "Right we have two things to think about for Friday,"Olivia declared. "We?" asked Michael. "Sure. We three are not going to be there on Friday, so we need to get our fun out of it in other ways. Firstly, ears." "I think I'm stuck with the ones I've got," Michael warned. "True, and as ears go, they are acceptable. However, with your hair back in a pony tail it is very noticeable that you have no earrings." "Mum said that I cannot get my ears pierced,"said Michael, fending off an issue. Technically it was not a lie, but it reported a conversation regarding just one ear about three years earlier. "Not to worry," said Louise, "there is that stall in the Galleria that has some nice, inexpensive earrings and they do clip ons too." "Cool," replied Olivia, "so we are on to nails. It is more fun to paint your own nails rather than wear the stick ons. Show us your hands!" Michael obediently presented her with his hands. She peered at them carefully. "Not that bad, we can sort these out. What shoes are you wearing?" "Probably the mid-heeled black ones that I wore on Saturday." "OK, that saves us having to work miracles on your toes." Olivia scurried off to the bathroom and was quickly back with two nail files. She handed one to Louise. "I'll do the left hand, you do the right." Michael sat there with a girl filing away feverishly at the fingers of each hand. As they were doing so, Olivia issued him with more orders. "If I see any signs of you biting or spoiling these, I will definitely kill you. Secondly we will go into town on Thursday night and get you some earrings and nail polish." "I'm not keen. Anyone from school that sees me with you will recognise me right away," objected Michael, demonstrating obvious nervousness. "We'll go straight from school. I didn't mean for you to be in disguise as a girl." That was a relief for Michael, and before long the girls had finished on his nails and showed him his hands. They did look quite neat and Olivia told him to keep one of the nail files so he could fix any nicks. She also promised to check and run over them again on Thursday evening. * * * * * The next couple of evenings saw Michael stay in, but his mother insisted that on returning from school he don his feminine clothes again. She got him to hand wash his underwear but otherwise he was left to his own devices. Come the end of school on Thursday he was slightly relieved to be able to hang on to wearing trousers for a little longer but he realised it was only a small dent in what faced him tomorrow. When he met Olivia she checked his nails. "Look, a couple have got a tiny bit ragged? Have you be rubbing sandpaper on them?" she scolded. "That's just how they naturally are." "Well natural is not good enough. I will supervise you on evening them out later. Now get a move on, we have to go to Superdrug first. They have a good range of make up and it is not too expensive. I can see you spending plenty of time there." * * * * * When they arrived at Superdrug, Olivia dragged him straight to the nail polish display and told him to look through the colours and make a choice. Michael already had an idea of what he wanted, so spent a few seconds pulling fake thinking expressions, prior to making a choice. "I like the emerald green one," he told her. "Mmmmm," Olivia responded, signalling that she was about to disagree. "If you have described your dress accurately, I would go for the sky blue." Michael looked around nervously, checking that nobody was close enough to have heard her. "But the emerald green looks cool," he objected - in a way that he would not have done were he in girl mode. "You'll find that the sky blue is a better match," Olivia insisted. "The green is not bad, but it is not ideal either." "Really?" Olivia nodded and picked up a bottle of the sky blue. She told him that he would need a bottle of remover as well. She also told him that she would present the items at the till, where Michael could impress with chivalric nature by diving in an offering to pay. They did that, Michael being slightly disappointed that the woman on the till showed zero admiration for his gesture. From there they headed to the costume jewellery stall that Louise had referred to. The choice of clip-on earrings was not huge, and Michael had already told Olivia that he did not like large hoops and wanted something different. The pair that caught his eye were beaten copper discs, a couple of centimetre across with a small central hole punched in them and hanging from the ear on a small, short chain. Olivia could not see an option that would suit better, so she let Michael go with his own choice. Michael was relatively pleased with his purchases and decided to keep quiet about them as a surprise from his mother the next day. When they arrived home, Olivia tidied his nails as promised and taught him how to apply the polish in neat strokes, then clean it off again when no longer desired. Michael confessed to her that he was absolutely terrified at what he was getting into. It seemed to be the sort of occasion where somebody could really put what he was doing into an unwelcome stark perspective. He trusted Sally not to put him in a bad situation intentionally, but last Sunday in the shop had shown that she was the one person beyond his mother and father who knew the truth of his situation, and once she had enjoyed a drink or three, would she be able to prevent letting the truth slip out? Olivia tried to reassure him, with only limited success. After they had finished, Michael went home and changed into girl mode. He paused to reflect on the week so far. Monday at school he had stood up for himself and suffered far less harrassment than he expected. On Tuesday there had been a bit of an upsurge in teasing, and a spread amongst other kids of him being referred to as Maria. Some of them had got bored of that on Wednesday and Thursday. A smattering of abusive texts had been recieved, but none by anyone that he knew and Michael was not worried about them. In a couple of cases they were factually quite accurate, so what could he complain about? He thought back to the complete humiliation that had swept through him last Saturday and now realised that the most stressful thing was sustaining the lie that he was tricked into the "girl for a weekend" experience. Already Olivia, Judie and Louise were aware that it was not just for a weekend anyway and word might get out about that somehow. Although he felt that he was just digging himself into a deeper hole, Michael was also certain that he did not want to stop dressing up, so he had to manage the hole. * * * * * Friday evening came around with alarming speed. When he got home from school, Michael's orders from his mother were to do his make up first and then get changed in his room. They were a bit short of time with two of them sharing the same vanity table. This suited Michael for springing his surprises on his mother. After he had applied his make-up, his mother inspected his work and made one very small correction, then added some eyeliner. She then told him that she had a surprise. "This is the last thing that I have bought for you," Jo told him and presented him with a black waist nipper. "It will give you a better shape at the waist and make the dress fit better. You won't have to make it too tight as you are thin enough to start with." Michael stood open mouthed, his stare flicking between his mother and the waist nipper. He was lost for words. "Pop on your undies and the hold ups, then give me a shout and I will fit it for you." Michael nodded and took the lingerie from his mother's hands and went back to his room. After donning his black bra set, he added the black hold ups, relishing every centimetre that he could caress them up to his thigh fresh from the packet. He called his mother to fit the mini corset. It was not as uncomfortable as Michael expected, but did make any movement at the waist nearly impossible. This did not cause Michael much difficulty in putting on necklace, bracelet and his new earrings, nor in fitting his wig. The nail polish was not so straightforward. When practicing he had been bent over at the waist to keep his hand steady on Olivia's table. That was now a struggle, so Michael had to try it by bringing his hand up from the surface. By being very careful he managed to keep the sky blue colour on his nails, rather than all over his fingers. Whilst waiting for the nail polish to dry, Michael had an idea. He slipped on his black heels, wishing that he had a chance to step up from the 2" height that were now so easy for him. Michael posed in front of the mirror on the inside of his wardrobe door. He was very happy with his passability, and absolutely delighted with the earrings. Temptation hit and he began to strike some magazine picture poses. In his head he could imagine the photographer coaxing Maria to loosen up and project more sex appeal. His favourite was one facing slightly off to his right, with his eyes directd back to the left. It was tempting to photograph himself in the mirror, but he feared the consequences if the wrong hands got hold of his phone. When the nails were dry he slipped his burgundy chemise over his head and stepped into the sequined dress. Michael could not reach to zip it up at the back. "Mum, can you zip up my dress?" he called. Jo rolled her eyes and went provide the requested assistance. When she saw Michael waiting, she had an instant eyebrow raising moment. "New nail polish? Earrings? And a new bag?" she inquired, looking towards the clutch bag lying on Michael's bed. "Olivia lent me the bag and nail polish. And she talked me into buying the earrings. They weren't expensive." Jo scowled. Initially Olivia had been a useful contributor to putting Michael in his place, but now it seemed that her encouragement had gone too far, into the realm of unwanted interference. She zipped him up and warned him that they were leaving in ten minutes. At this point Michael realised for the first time that that shortish dress and hold ups in combination would be tricky. He could avoid showing his lacy stocking tops if he was careful and always swept the skirt under him if sitting down. And never forgot to keep his knees tightly closed. He made his way downstairs, where he was ignored by his father and received a contemptuous scowl from his brother. He leaned over to the limited degree possible and whispered into Ben's ear. "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" The response was a subtle middle finger from Ben that only Michael could see. He was about to verbally strike back when his mother appeared, dressed up to the nines. She headed straight for the front door, so he took the hint that it was time to go. His father followed Jo out to the car. Michael trailed them more slowly, glancing up at her window to check that Olivia and her friends were watching. He could see two of them, so he took a slow turn approaching the car for their benefit. He opened the door, sat down stiffly and swung his legs in gracefully. They had not gone far when his phone beeped for an incoming message. It was from Olivia which read "U look amazing. x" It was only a short drive to Sally's house and when they pulled up outside, Michael's original fears rose to the fore again. After he got out of the car he took one step towards Sally's house and froze. "Get a move on," encouraged his mother. "But what if one of the women has one of their kids at my school and word gets around?" "Life is tough. Move it." With a deep sense of dread, Michael walked up to Sally's door and rang the bell. She soon answered. "My God, Maria, don't you look smashing, knew you would. I would have loved for Ryan to have met you but he made himself scarce. Said he could not bear all the hormonal wittering, whatever that means." Michael was relieved. He did not know Sally's husband all that well, but he seemed like a decent sort of guy, and keeping Maria out of his frame of reference was the preferred option. Sally ushered them in and fetched them both a drink, and Michael was pleased that he was allowed a white wine spritzer to fit in. Whilst she was getting them, Jo introduced Maria to the other women present. It was obvious that they had been forewarned that he was not really a girl, and from the moment when he was abandoned to make his own small talk in the room he got a barrage of the same sort of questions that he had previously from Della, Sally or Olivia, so he was quite slick with the answers by now. Jo kept half an ear on the conversations to ensure that they stayed within the bounds of decency. She noticed that one of the women avoided Maria and just dropped in an occasional disapproving sneer, especially when she spotted Maria standing with her weight on her left leg and the right out at a slight angle which caused her dress to ride up enough to give a slight glimpse of stocking top. As Maria moved around the room, she eventually ended up sat down talking to a woman named Cherry. Jo was slightly taken aback as to how Maria had instinctively slipped into such a feminine pose. She was perched on the edge of the chair, with knees tight and her feet also together, with her lower legs tucked back and at an angle. Due to her waist nipper she was forced to be almost upright from the waist but had managed to lean ever so slightly into the conversation. Meanwhile Michael was both absolutely horrified and utterly enthralled by Cherry's story of how she feared that her husband was a crossdresser, but it turned out that he was having an affair and the other woman was dropping clues as to what was going on. Now they had split up and it was a great relief. He was rather bemused that a complete stranger would pour out their life story, or at least the most recent bits of it, but he had noticed how quickly his mother could accumulate all that there was a need to know about a new acquaintance, so he guessed it was a clue that she was treating him like a woman. When Cherry had brought him totally up to date, Michael felt that he needed to reciprocate, so he gave her the tale of being tricked into a trial weekend as a girl and being deeply afraid of what would happen if anyone at school found out that the experiment had extended into another weekend. "I expect some of the boys will be confused because they fancy you. Probably the ones that make the most noisy insults," Cherry laughed. "The fewer of them that see Maria, the better for me." "That would be a bit of a waste of all the effort you have made, but I understand why you would think that," Cherry said, patting him reassuringly on the knee. At this point Jo interrupted to tell them that the taxis had arrived, and that one would divert to drop Maria off at home. Drinks were swiftly finished and the group of women all headed out to the cars, taking an inordinate length of time to decide who would go in each vehicle. When he was unloaded at home, Michael felt a bit sad not to be there for the whole evening but he understood that he was bound to be IDed wherever the women ended up and rocking up at any bar or pub with a sixteen year old boy dressed as a girl was not going to attract the sort of attention that they were seeking. The taxi had pulled up on the opposite side of the road to his house. Before he had a chance to cross the road, he heard a call from behind him. "Michael. Maria. Can we have a quick word?" It was Sam Murphy, one of the neighbours beckoning him, and his son, Ryan, was stood next to him smirking like a simpleton who has just seen a squirrel do something totally normal for a squirrel. When they were younger, Michael and Ryan had got on well, but Michael was a couple of years below Ryan at school and picked up a different circle of friends from it. Michael hesitated to respond to Sam's call, but they had seen that he heard them, so he swallowed nervously and walked through their front garden slowly. "Michael, what the hell's going on with this freak show?" demanded Sam. "I am being punished. Last weekend was the main bit, but this is the end of it." "Well, that is not reasonable parenting." "It's OK, Mr Murphy. I am not going to say that I don't mind it, but it has been enlightening, in a bizarre sort of way." "Yeah, well deviant," Ryan interrupted. "It is one thing to just be made to wear a skirt, but making you up as a good looking girl is too much," Sam insisted. "Will you come in for a minute or two?" "Thanks very much." Michael left it hanging as to whether he was acknowledging the compliment or the invite - or both. Sam ushered Michael through to the living room and gestured for him to sit down. Michael did so gracefully, knees and ankles tight but upright from the waist thanks to his shapewear, just as at Sally's. It looked as if he was eagerly awaiting Sam's next outburst, but there was time to notice Ryan staring at his legs. "Ryan!" Michael snapped, "It's not polite to stare. Girls hate that. Well, most of them do." Ryan blushed and Sam looked at him angrily. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael noticed that a tiny strip of stocking top was showing. He was about to wriggle backwards to bring the hem of his dress lower, but suddenly decided to stay as he was, to tease Ryan. "Michael, I just want to be certain that you are not being subjected to this for, erm, questionable... or, err, no, err, illegal reasons." "No, Mr Murphy, I am not," Michael smiled. "Then why don't you stand up for yourself?" "The story is too long to explain, but as I said, I can tolerate it. Tell you what, I am learning so much about girls and what they really think. I am going to put that to good use." Michael winked for emphasis, not realising in time that the gesture looked rather different to how he intended it to the Murphys with him dressed up to the nines. He may have heard Ryan groan quietly. "OK, if you have no complaints, then I can't intefere. But please come and see me if you think it is getting out of hand." "Thanks for being concerned, really. But as of Monday, this is all over and done with," purred Michael. Sam looked at Michael as if he did not totally believe what he had been told. Michael got up to leave. As he left the living room, Michael paused. He looked back over his shoulder at Ryan. "Nobody other than us needs to know about this chat, do they?" Ryan shook his head and Michael nodded gently. He moved out of the house and sauntered across to his house. He was diverted by the sight of Olivia standing on her front step, with Louise peering over her shoulder, beckoning him into her home. "What did they want?" she asked, gesturing towards the Murphys' house with a flick of her head. "Just checking that I was not being abused or bullied." "What did you tell them?" "I said that you were blackmailing me, but I did not want to get the police involved." "What?" yelled Olivia. "Just kidding, I told them the truth, or the part of it that they needed to know." "You...you...you...bitch!" "That's a bit harsh. By the way, no Judie this evening?" "No," replied Louise, "she's a bit shy at times. You can always tell, because she when she is feeling it, instead of going all quiet, she talks non-stop." "And without making much sense. She said this was all a bit strange," added Olivia. Michael looked diappointed. There was a pause broken by Louise. "So what was the soiree like?" "A bit dull really," he told her, "I got to go through all the same questions again, although some of it was a bit more like being interrogated. I had a nice chat with a lady called Cherry who would have told me her entire life story from her first memories if there'd been time. And one of them just took an instant dislike to me and did not talk to me at all." Michael turned to face the full length mirror in the hallway. "It was her loss!" he said, pulling at the hem of his dress (again!) and generally preening his look. There was a moment of silence as he regarded himself again in the mirror. The image looking back at him could not have been more girlish. He noticed that his lipstick needed touching up, having left some on the rim of his wine glass. After fishing the tube out of his bag, he fixed it quickly. His hand was still at his mouth when he felt Louise close behind him. Her arms reached around his waist, and she pulled him as near as she could. Having got a touch of something that she was not expecting, Louise released her hold and began to caress up and down at waist height. "Are you wearing a corset?" she enquired, a touch breathlessly. "Only a very small one." Louise took a hold at the hips and began to pull up the lower part of his dress. Michael tried to force it back down again, but she dissuaded him with a reminder of what happened on the last occasion that he tried to defend his modesty against her. As the hem rose beyond his stocking tops Olivia complimented how good they made his legs look and gave them a brief caress with the back of her hand. Michael shuddered slightly, and Louise felt it too. She added a pinch of the chemise to take that along with the dress as gradually her hands rose and brought more into view. Then when they were above waist height, she told Michael to hold his clothes in place where they were. He was as transfixed by what he could see in the mirror were both Olivia and Louise was by their view of the real thing. "You look so, so sexy," Louise whispered. Michael found himself wishing that Judie was there in Louise's place. The tension of the moment was broken by the sound of a key in the door. A startled Michael instantly dropped the hem of the dress, and gave a little wiggle to ensure that it fell down beyond his stocking tops. The door opened, and Olivia's father came through. "Hi cutey pie. Where's your Mum?" he asked. "Upstairs asleep," Olivia replied. He nodded and turned to Michael. "So I guess you must be Maria. Nice legs." He was known for his steady but not always appropriate good humour, so Michael was expecting to get some gentle joking at the very least when he eventually ran into Olivia's father, but being caught flashing his knickers was not the plan. He wanted to curl up and die, but felt that it could be considered a rude thing to do in front of the host of the house that he was in. "Dad!" scolded Olivia. "Erm, thanks?" replied Michael cautiously to him. "Seriously. When Olivia and the missus said what a convincing girl you were I did not believe them. But a great effort. Nine out of ten." Olivia gave her father a really hard stare, and he took the hint and stopped. Michael was pleased that Olivia's parents spoiled their only child and had presumably been nice to him at Olivia's request. Even so, he took the opportunity to make his escape. "Well...erm...nice to meet you, but I had better be going." And in the blink of an eye Maria was out of the door. * * * * * He spent the rest of the evening in his room using his computer, just to avoid Ben and his father, and not bothering to change into something more casual. His concentration tended to wander when his mind drifted back to his all too fleeting moments in Olivia's hallway. When it was time to go to bed Michael managed, with some difficulty to unzip the dress enough to wriggle out of it. The sensation as it slid down across his chemise and then across his stockings caused him to close his eyes a take in a deep breath of satisfaction. Michael looked at his reflection in the mirror. His mother, with some assistance from Olivia, had done an amazing job of making him into a good looking girl. When he was just a boy occasionally wearing a skirt or dress he never had a vision of what he may look like as a girl as he never imagined having a chance to try, but the image he had been given was one that he liked. Next stop was removing the waist nipper. He hoisted the hem of the chemise and realised that to undo the laces at the back would require a bit of assistance in the mirror. Michael caught a glimpse of himself looking back over his shoulder to get the right lace to pull and was struck by the sultriness of the image that he saw. That led him to pause in undressing and throw a few more poses into the mirror. Watching Maria in the mirror had gradually become an intoxicating experience. And a vain one, he pondered. When he ran out of ideas Michael removed his make up and then finished undressing as slowly, leaving the wig until last. That night Michael found the strange dreams returning. This time he kept being forced into situations where he had to meet people dressed only in his underwear and jewellery. No matter what he did, it never proved possible to go and put on any outer clothes. He woke up just as he was about to be ushered into a television studio - for no reason made clear in the dream. Once up and active, Michael was back in the more casual attire, including his pale green cotton dress, which had grown to feel natural and comfortable as daywear. As was becoming a habit, he confined himself to his room when he had finished breakfast. In doing so he missed out on a conversation between his mother and father. Jo confessed that her plan to shame Michael into shunning crossdressing appeared to have failed. She expected that at some stage he would have a tantrum and refuse to wear the clothes dictated, and which point a lecture telling him that if he did not dress now, he never would was to be delivered, expecting him to continue to refuse. The second issue was that Olivia's interference seemed to have encouraged him rather than deter. And finally, Jo was very conscious that whilst going out and having new people seeing Maria did cause him severe embarrassment, once those people bought into the social experiment lie and treated him as female, Michael quickly slipped into a natural girlish mode that worried her. They agreed to have a serious talk with Michael in the afternoon. In mid-afternoon they summoned Michael to come and have a frank and honest discussion with them. Jo noticed that he again sat on the edge of the living room chair in very girlish fashion. She broke the ice. "Maria, you have had a week of punishment, and we want you to tell us what you feel about it. Be sure to be truthful." Michael took a long pause for thought. He considered that the correct diplomatic answer might not involve being either honest nor frank, but he decided to follow that path for now. "Words that spring to mind are ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated. Also awkward, guilty and uncomfortable. But at times when I am alone, it can be relaxing. I feel especially ashamed when I am introduced to people as Maria. Even when they are nice to me, are they just being polite or is it real? Do they think I am deluding myself pathetically? But when I am at home and away from people, it isn't terrifying." "But boys should not be going around impersonating girls," his father suggested. "Why not?" Michael asked. "Would you walk around all day dressed as cowboy? Or a pantomime horse? In every day life, school or when you get a job, your day to day appearance is that appropriate for you, the person who lives in the suburbs in the twenty first century." "But..." answered Michael, only for the words dried up. "Why are you ashamed when people have met Maria?" his father asked. "Because it is not what people expect men to do. They are going to treat me like a weirdo of some sort." "Precisely," interjected Jo, "Whether it is right or wrong is immaterial. But it will open you up to a lot of aggravation or mockey. Imagine going for a job interview and one of the interviewers knows about you dressing up as a girl and does not approve." Michael thought that this seemed like an improbable scenario, but kept that thought to himself. Jo continued. "What about when you have a girlfriend? How do you explain to her that you want to wear her clothes?" Again Michael was tempted to point out the flaws in her logic, such as a girlfriend who was not the same size or maybe a girlfriend who was attracted to crossdressing, but the timing also seemed wrong. Jo saw Maria sitting with her hands in her lap, staring at her feet and interpreted the silence as agreement with the problems she had raised. That silence dragged on and when Michael looked up he sensed his parents were expecting him to move the conversation forwards. "I don't want to dress as a girl all the time, if that's what you were worried about." Both parents were pleased to hear this, so neither noted that their concerns extended a bit further than that. Michael continued. "I don't even want to do it a lot, just occasionally. And in private. I can't explain why, but I find it chills me out when I have got a lot on my mind." His father could not help but guffaw at that. "Sorry, son," he said, "I do remember that you can feel things getting on top of you at your age, but really you don't know what is to come in that respect." Michael was just pleased that he had been referred to as 'son' rather than 'Maria.' Meanwhile his mother had her suspicion that crossdressing occasionally in private was not a level of activity that could be kept under control. She said nothing for now. "So what is your idea?" his father asked Michael. "Erm... That you let me have some girl time occasionally but I promise to always ask first. And only use my own clothes," he pointedly turned to face his mother for the last clause. "Let us think about it," Jo said, "but whatever we decide, your last punishment day is tomorrow." * * * * * Michael returned to his room and messaged Olivia about the serious conversation. She replied that he could always come over to her house if he needed to dress up without approval, and that he could keep some clothes over there too, if that would be helpful. He thanked her and agreed that it would. Walking out of the house skirt in hand and responding "oh, nothing" when asked what he was up to would never work. Of all the challenges put in his way, the only major one that he saw left in front of him was whether his brief time in the open air the day earlier had been witnessed by any of the kids at school. He had to consider whether Judie and Louise would let them know about his second weekend as a girl. Or perhaps Ben, although he had a plan for that. In fact he was so confident that the risk was minimal that he began to look forward to spending Sunday as a girl. The next morning Michael found both parents acting as everything was normal but Ben regarding him with only the usual contempt. Michael's first plan was to grab a photo of Ben in girl's clothes but unless he found a way of knocking him out before dressing Ben himself, Michael could not imagine it being possible. Photo editing was an option. The second way forward was to get a picture of himself, as a girl, beating Ben up. The problem was that after the incident with Olivia, Michael was worried about the inherently submissive attitude that he could not snap out of when dressed, and even if he overcame that, who would take the photograph? And people could guess that the girl was not a real one. The third idea was to ask Olivia or Louise into seducing Ben into crossdressing, but even if they agreed to try, he did not see that as being something likely to work. There was, however, a Plan D that had a chance. Michael would engage Ben in a heart to heart conversation, guide him to uttering a few incriminating phrases and then edit the sound into something that sounded like Ben admitting to crossdressing, or wanting to try it. It did not have to be all that slickly done, just enough to ensure that Ben kept his mouth shut. Soon after that Michael was knocking gently on Ben's door. There was no response. "Can I come in?" he called airily. An indistinct noise came from the other side which he took to be a yes, because any form of no would have been louder and more certain. He edged the door open slowly and walked in cautiously. Ben was lying on his bed reading and as he made no attempt to acknowledge Michael, the visitor say down on the chair next to the bed. He had on his green floral dress and black tights and made a demonstrable fuss of arranging the skirt of the dress as he was seated, to keep Ben guessing. "I wanted to have a clear the air sort of chat," Michael told Ben, "No need," said Ben with little sign of enthusiasm, "Mum and Dad said I have to act respectfully to you. So I will do it because I am told to, not because I approve of my brother dressing up as a girl." "But I want you to understand," sighed Michael "What, that you're a poof?" Ben snapped. "No." There was a pause as Michael chose his words carefully. "Haven't you ever wondered what it is like to wear a skirt? Or a bra?" "Of course not." Ben's reply was less aggressive and Michael took the calmer moment to try and guide him where he wanted. "If you did, I don't mind you trying on my clothes." "Why would I want to to try on your clothes? Weren't you listening?" Ben responded. "It can be very satisfying. It is hard to explain, but if you were to put on a dress or a skirt, it is easier to look like a girl and not be noticed so much than to just be a boy wearing girl's clothing." "Look," said Ben, "I will try not to think of you as a perverted weirdo, but a fake girl is still a fake." "Well, that's a start. Thank you," Michael reached out and patted Ben's shoulder. "What are you reading?" "The Lord Of The Rings." "That makes a change from your usual Star Wars spin-off or footballer's life story." "Yeah, something different is good every now and then. And stop sounding like Mum." Michael smiled but was simultaneously delighted that he had got the material he needed from Ben and dismayed that he might be turning into his mother. He retreated out of the room and gently closed the door. Michael went back to his own bedroom and reviewed the conversation that he had recorded on his phone. When he had replayed it a few times he isolated a few key phrases. "Haven't you ever wondered what it is like to wear a skirt? Or a bra? If you did, I don't mind you trying on my clothes." That was his own voice. "I want to try on your clothes." Ben's voice. "Well, that's a start." Michael again. "Something different is good every now and then." Ben again. He downloaded the sound file onto his computer and set about searching for some freeware sound editing software. Once the software was installed it was at times a frustrating process but he eventually had chopped up the content to make it sound as if Ben had asked to crossdress and enjoyed it. Michael sat back and relaxed. Just over a week ago, he had felt that his world had come to an end as his mother paraded him around the neighbourhood dressed as a woman. If an asteroid had fallen to Earth and hit him squarely on the head, he would not necessarily have felt it to be the worst possible outcome. Now he had worked an agreement to wear his small collection of female attire in private occasionally and all that he had on his "to do" list was return Olivia's handbag and keep his fellow students on the backfoot as far as name calling was concerned - and the signs were that they were getting bored with him being the figure of fun. The fact that he was able to make a convincing girl was very satisfying, although he could not think what use that could be put to. And finally he had become ensnared by a trio of girls who liked to see him dressed just like them. Olivia was clearly the leader, and he had worked out that she really wanted him to be an addition to her gang. At some point in time he had become slightly infatuated with Judie, so for the time being he would let Olivia have her way, just as a method to keep close to Judie. There was also a means to blackmail his brother into silence, if needed. "Yes, 2019 is turning out pretty well," muttered Michael to himself, "next year is going to wonderful."