Showing posts with label Romantic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romantic. Show all posts

Sunday, June 30, 2024

Allison; A Token Transsexual

Allison; A Token Transsexual

It had all started with the bathroom debate and assorted legislative bills. I am sure most of it was strictly political, a way for a local representative to gain some political clout at other people’s expense. Just another way for a legislator to correct some imagined injustice, although his correction often far worse than the original problem. Everybody jumped on the bandwagon, they were all going to be heroes, making things right. One of the state’s governor, who made a big deal about the legislative bill they had passed and he signed quickly got voted out of office at the next election. I am sure that is not the political clout he was expecting from supporting the bill.

Anyway, a few of the liberal states started talking about proposed legislation to reverse all of the crap that had been passed. Then a few of the federal officials decided to use existing legislation, looking at older laws a little differently. It was decided that existing laws were adequate, so they issued new guidelines for people to follow. A new Attorney General recently appointed by the President elect decided that this was his ticket to fame and fortune and started aggressively prosecuting any violators of these new guidelines.

Well like anything political, some new views of these guidelines caused some interesting situations to pop up. In a school district a football player was ejected from the team because he declared himself to be a transsexual. That in of itself wasn’t the problem. The player in question wanted off the team anyway because of his new chosen gender. Well, somehow this got all twisted around and the feds issued a warning to the school districts that all sports team from this day forward would be required to have at least one transgender student on the team. If that was not an option then an individual of the opposite sex had to be allowed to play. That way it would make it easier for other players of either sex to follow suit if they so desired. It didn’t matter if the chosen player wanted to participate or not.

Immediately a thousand lawsuits were filed, against anybody that they could find to sue, to stop this ridiculous ruling. The local courts were fed up with all of these lawsuits, not just this particular batch but the habit of people suing for the tiniest detail or infraction. They ruled that the feds were within their rights to stop discrimination this way, so the guidelines stand. All of the other lawsuits were wholesale thrown out clearing the crowded dockets quite quickly.

Needless to say the ruling was appealed to the Supreme Court, although no immediate response could be expected. In past cases it was often a year or more before they made a judgment. There was a lot of interest in the cases before the Supreme Court, their decisions sure to affect high school, collegiate sports and any other competitive sports for quite some time.

Now, enter me into this mess. I played for my high school team, a running back, due to my small stature. I was not little, but by football standards definitely not anything close to normal. I was fast however, thus ensuring a place on the team. I had ignored all the hoopla over the new guidelines being passed down from above, figuring they would just allow a female to suit up and that would be it. At the worst, getting someone to claim they were a transsexual to head off the feds, maybe some gay guy that wouldn’t raise red flags. Well it didn’t quite work out that way, they tried the latter even though I was not gay, with little old me in the spotlight this time around.

We had just finished practice and had taken showers when I was called into the coach’s office. Not totally unheard of, although it happened to me very rarely. I knocked and entered, to find myself surrounded by most of the school’s coaching staff. I was still buttoning up my shirt as I entered, I quickly finished and set down in the chair they were pointing to. Then I noticed the Principal standing among the coaches. She started the conversation for the group.

“Allan we have a situation here and need your help. Due to some uncalled for remarks from a member of our coaching staff there has been a sudden inordinate interest in our football program here.” She was shooting daggers at our coach and he was suddenly interested in what was on the floor at the side of his desk. “We received a letter today, notifying us of rules violations. If this is not handled quickly the entire football season will be forfeited. In order to comply we need a transgender student on the team and quickly. Each of the coaches have talked with any possibilities and they all have turned us down.”

I had finally figured it out, I was going to be the transgender student and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I stood up, getting ready to leave the room, imagine the gall of these people to ask me to do this. My P.E. coach Ms. Stone took my upper arm and excused us, leading me out to the lounge just outside of the office. Most of the guys had finished their showers, dressed, and left. She sat me down on a bench, then parked herself right next to me.

We always got along, she was probably the most liked coach of the coaching staff. Her sports was ladies volleyball and tennis, but like all of the other coaches she also had to teach several regular P.E. classes as part of her job. She made P.E. interesting, each day something new, a new sport, a new exercise regime, or just a game involving a lot of physical activity. I liked her a lot, she transformed a normally crap class, into something interesting and fun.

“Please listen to me, this is more than forfeiting some games. The local authorities are wanting to set an example, so with some nasty remarks made by your football coach we have been put in the cross hairs. This will include all of our sports programs here. Now I know what we have asked is monumental, especially for a young man, but I would like you to take a little time and think about it. You would be doing the school a great service, maybe more than you realize. I have talked to your mother, to inform her of our request, and what we have guaranteed her so that you remain safe and not get bullied.”

“At first she was dead set against it, called me several names we won’t mention but she eventually calmed down some. She has pretty much left it up to you, she does want to talk to you before your decide though. She told me that she will take care of your father if this proceeds. Now please think this over, I realize the severity of what we have asked, but we are in a fix here, and apparently you are our last chance.”

“We did talk to a lot of other students about this, the one or two who might be interested would be a total waste on the team. It was pursued with them even if they set on the bench all the time, but as more details were given they both decided they wanted nothing to do with the idea. We even tried to get a female to do it, stating that she is transitioning to become a male, but when all of it was explained to her she just laughed and walked away. We even tried to get her to join the team as a female, but after what we had said earlier she wanted nothing to do with anything we were asking.

Go on home, talk with your mother, and father if needed. Take time to really think this through, it does mean a lot to quite a few students. If you have any other questions, here is my cell phone number, please call if needed.

I got up and proceeded to the door of the gym, meandering back to my locker, got my books for my homework, I think, and walked home. I don’t remember much, I waved to a couple of my friends, but I couldn’t tell you which ones. Thirty minutes later. I opened our front door and walked in dropping my books on the hall table like I usually do.

Mom came out of the kitchen smiled at me and told me to follow her. She could tell that I was troubled, confused and bewildered. We went out to our gazebo, away from the house and phones to talk. I set down next to her, took a deep breath and started crying. My only words were repeated over and over in my mind. “Why me, damn why me.” Mom as she usually does comforted me, holding me tight to her breast and stroking my hair with her other hand.

I eventually regained some control, apologizing for my emotional outbreak. “There is nothing to apologize for. What happened today, while not normal, impacted you hard, causing you to find some solace in something else. I enjoyed holding you, something you have not let me do for many years. Now let’s talk this through a little, Coach Stone has supplied me with a few more facts and details that might make this easier for you.” She waited for me to catch up and acknowledge her.

“Why me Mom, I am a normal male, I have no desire to dress as a female, much less play football with no telling what as a uniform. Surely they could have found somebody else, anybody else to do this thing.” Mom smiled, then asked me if I remembered Craig Highlander. I nodded my head.

“Well, they had asked Craig to do this yesterday, and his mom called me this morning at work. I was laughing along with her as she told me what they had asked him to do. Since he is not as demure as you, can you imagine him in a dress or skirt? They had pulled out all the stops with him as they did with you, trying to make him feel guilty if he didn’t participate. In the end reason won, she let him put on one of her old house dresses, and let him look in the mirror. That handled that and he called the coach and refused to be involved. In fact he resigned from the team, them asking him to be transgender to save their asses changed his opinion of the school and the football program.”

“I had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before they cornered you, explained what they wanted and then applied a lot of pressure. When Coach Stone called the first time we nearly had it out, she changed her tactics and we talked for over an hour. This is, by the way, before they even planned to talk to you. Then after they stated their plan, she called back again and told me what she had asked you to do. I told her we would talk at length about this, but that I wanted a bunch of concessions if you agreed to participate.”

“Well, they are in the quicksand and nearly to go under, so she agreed in behalf of the school to all of my concessions, without any reservations. Now as to what you would like to do. Keep in mind that you have them by the balls, to quote a widely used analogy, now is a good time to gain some things that might not have been available to you in the past. Living as a transgender student is not going to be that hard, a few things to get used to, but I have faith in my child to come through this with ease.”

I inwardly chuckled, as if you haven’t been able to ascertain Mom is a lawyer and one of the best in the state. She does a lot of things but always for her benefit. She works an odd schedule, so that she can be here for me when I get home from school. If there is other work to be done, she does it in her home office later at night after dinner and a little time spent with me. We are close, much closer than any Mother / Son relationship that I know of. I know that she loves me, her number one obligation in life is to take care of me and lead me through life.

Dad was alright, but his work came first, always his primary concern. We talked often, but it was more a thing he felt he needed to do, not something he wanted to do. I was sure that most of our conversations were dictated by Mom, maybe even what to say to me. I often had a hard time believing some of the things my dad would tell me. Those thoughts would never come from my Dad without some intervention or manipulation. Mom was a master of persuasion, a few words and soon all parties were thinking the same thing.

I relaxed a little, this does make things different, but I am still scared shitless. One minute at school in female garb and my future is sealed, I will be lucky to make it home alive. Whatever they claim be damned, bullying and physical violence are rampant in school, in my school. I have been witness to many incidents, in most cases the pupil is withdrawn to go to another school way away from here. Several cases had to be hospitalized before somebody decided to finally intervene.

“Can you keep a secret, the penalty in not doing so is your life?” I looked at Mom, wondering what she is talking about, nothing can be that important that the penalty for divulging is death.

“Yeah, I can keep a secret, at least I think I can.”

“Females are weaker and in most cases smaller than males. Yet, we control most of the finances in the world. We also can make most males do as we ask, without any kind of physical force. Males usually have the muscles and brawn, but females have the looks and brains.” My eyes shot up on that remark. She giggled but continued.

“There is a reason for that, most males are driven by lust, he sees a beautiful woman and he does stupid things trying to get her to notice him. This can be as simple as racing the engine in a car to attract attention or even burning rubber to get the female to look his way. Playing football, another example. He risks injury to make a score, to make a tackle, or win a game to show his girl he is worthy and manly. His hope is that if the girl falls for him he might get a kiss, or even better something more desirable.”

“A female uses her beauty and brains to attract attention, to get the male to do all his tricks to please her. She gets meals, gets taken to dances, gets pampered, maybe flowers and candy all to convince her that he is the one, the one to marry and take care of him. The female though sees underneath the exterior, is he caring, is he responsible, will he provide for me, will he be a good father to my children? She might have been attracted to him originally because of one of his tricks, but he is evaluated as a mate on a totally different criteria.”

“Now you are in a unique position for a young male, an offer that can be made a lot of, plus a chance to play on the other team for a while. Think about a few months from now, you having taken the opportunity offered to you. You get to experience being pampered, being wined and dined, taken to dances, by former friends now only interested in getting into your panties. Yet you can still play some football if you want. Believe me no one that gets a good look at the female you is going to tackle something so pretty on a football field. I call that a license to steal, whatever you want, you can get.”

“Now as to after the masquerade, you will know what a female likes, how to treat her to make her feel good about you, from personal experience. You can talk with them about fashions, about makeup, about relationships, all from personal experience, even about boys, the number one topic of young females. That is a win-win situation for you.”

“I know this is scary for you, but other than the first day when everybody gets a look at you I am sure you will be treated with kid gloves. Even though the boys know you were one, all they will see is a gorgeous female, the taboo of talking to you or even dating you quickly forgotten when they think of kissing you or holding you in their arms. What do you have to lose, and then think of all you have to gain? I took the liberty of taking one of your pictures and altering it to show you what you might look like as a female. Like I said nothing to lose.”

I stared at the picture she handed me, I recognized the face a little, it is obviously one of my pictures but the image other than a slight resemblance to me is of one gorgeous female. I swallowed hard, way too much to absorb, me Allan as a female and playing football to boot. I just sat there, Mom leaving me to think about all that she had told me.

I knew Mom often got her way with Dad, even though he supposedly ruled with an iron hand. Yeah sure, what he doesn’t know about won’t hurt him. I also knew that she made most of the decisions around the house. Often when I would ask Dad for something there was always a delay before he responded back, while he got Mom’s approval. So the secret Mom let me in on is probably all fact, very little if any stretching of the truth. I also knew that she earned five times what Dad made, a fact not told me directly, but I managed a peek at a bank deposit one time, so I had little doubt about that truth. Mom’s skill and knowledge easily helped her earn major dollars in her trade. From more than one person I heard she was one of the most respected attorneys in the state, they had even asked her to run for political office once.

Mom just smiled at me as my brain processed what she had told me, then I would look at the picture again and sigh. I think at that point she knew I would do it, my few remaining reservations being shoved to the back of the bus. I stuttered out how, meaning how it would be accomplished, but she knew what I meant.

“You will be out of school for two days, while the necessary changes are made. This is not a fantasy disguise, you will look 100 % female in all regards. That is the essential part to insure your safety and health. If you are a caricature, you will be picked on, if you look like a cheerleader you will be respected and cared for, simple as that.”

“Your day starts tomorrow at eight A.M. the transformation complete by evening. Then back the next day for some training as a female, basic walking, behavior and some voice training. Your debut will be Friday morning at school, a full day of classes and then you get to play football with the boys at the game that night. It is your homecoming and I expect you might also get a chance to be an attendant or even the Home Coming queen depending on what happens during the day at school.”

The conversation stopped there as it was getting near to dinner time, I went upstairs to get cleaned up, and Mom finished fixing dinner. When I returned downstairs I helped set the table and serve the food. Dad had gotten home a few minutes earlier and we adjourned to the dining room to eat.

Dinner was deathly quiet, hardly anybody talked, the food was good, but I don’t even remember what it was I managed to eat. I did help Mom clean up afterwards to her surprise, then attempted to do my homework. I think I completed the assigned tasks, but I am not sure. The thoughts of being transgender stayed with me during this time, I still think someone else could be found, but since I was smallish, and was already on the team I was the leading contender, at least, one that hadn’t turned them down yet.

I just shook my head as Mom led me to my bedroom, helped me undress and then slipped a nightie over my head. As it dropped down over my body I almost fainted away, the feeling so delicious. I got a goodnight kiss on the forehead as she tucked me in and left, turning out the light as she closed the door. I have never let anybody undress me since I was ten, so that was a complete surprise, even more so when she tucked me in and kissed me goodnight. The world is going mad, and I am among the most affected.

I laid there lost in thought, where are the clothes coming from, what will I wear when I play football, and what will my few friends say. I imagine I will be ostracized at the very least, maybe not beat to death, but I doubt I will have anybody to call a friend. Sleep finally took me from my worries, but I tossed and turned, the nightie sliding over me waking me up, till I could get it re-situated again. The sensations just too delicious to ignore. This kept me awake most of the night until I hugged myself tightly, keeping the nightie from sliding. Feeling the nightie hugging my arms and chest, I finally drifted back to sleep to stay that way until the alarm the next morning.

I got up and used the bathroom, then returned to my bedroom. Mom is there waiting for me. I saw the sweats laying on my bed, also some of my boy clothes on the back of a chair on the other side of the room. Decision time, I approached her, hugged her, and squeaked out a question. “Will me doing this change anything between us, will Dad think less of me, his son becoming a female?”

“Mom held my face in her hands so that I had no chance to look other than in her eyes. “Never will you be anything except my child, whether male or female I will love you just as much no matter what happens. Now if you get pregnant later before you get married I may be upset, but you will still be my daughter.”

I looked at her, “I do hope you are kidding me, surely you are kidding me, you have to be kidding me.” Mom giggled then kissed my face, you have to lighten up a little Allison, you might love to be a mother, getting a chance to bond with your daughter like I now have with you. As for dear old Dad, you have nothing to worry about, it won’t take you twenty minutes to have him wrapped around your manicured nail. I savored the name Mom had just called me, I presume that to be my new name for this adventure. I did like it, it seemed to fit my personality. So Allan disappears and Allison takes over.

“So are you ready to get rid of the penis and get a pussy, or are you still unsure?”

A look of shock came across my face.

“They are going to cut off my penis, all in the name of a high school sports program.”

Mom giggled some more, but ignored my question.

“Put on the sweats and let’s go, I will explain the rest while we drive to the salon.”

The drive took us about thirty minutes, Mom telling me about the salon we are going to. “They take males and make them into females, disguised enough that anyone else could not pick the real males from the females. That includes breasts and a vagina. They do not cut your penis off, just secure it and add a vagina over the top of it. It will pass a gynecological exam if needed.” I started to question why I had to go so far.

Reading my mind, “Number one reason is your safety, in gym or in the shower you will appear like a natural female. Any dastardly deeds done to you constitutes rape, a punishable offense. If you just dressed as a female, it might be assault and battery if there was some witnesses, otherwise just a fight among two males. Since you will look like a female, most of the other females will support you, since females tend to stick together. That will also carry over to the football field, your male teammates protecting you, the gorgeous young girl, from the other gender. If you just dressed as a female that might not be the case, the boys allowing a tackle that might hurt you or forgetting to make a block.”

“Relax about the next two days, become my daughter and then let’s just take it one day at a time after that exploring your feelings and thoughts, okay.” I nodded and she made the right turn into their parking lot. The salon is huge, almost as big as the super store in town. I managed to get out of the car, but just stood there. Mom calling me Allison finally breaking my chain of thoughts. I reluctantly looked at her and she kissed me on the cheek. “Come on, let’s go you female life awaits you.”

As we walked in the door my eyes got larger, so much going on, and all a little bit scary. They are going to do this to me, and I will never be the same. Mom still holding my hand squeezed it, looked my way then told the receptionist that Allison is her for her makeover. Before I had a chance to bolt for the door, a young lady came to get me, leading me away while I desperately tried to get back to Mom. My escort leaned in closer, whispering to me that it will be alright, another hour or two and I will be looking forward to the next treatment. I doubted that, but her statement seemed to help some. Somebody holding my hand helped more. Even if she is leading me down the road to femaleness and apparent instant doom.

When we entered a private room in the back I became apprehensive again, but Monica calmed me down as she helped remove my clothes and got me up on the table. I was lying there suddenly aware that I was bare assed naked in front of this young lady. The blood started pumping into my upper regions, leaving me quite red, not just in the face. She was very professional, spreading a cream over my front. She missed nothing, I was afraid that my organ might embarrass me more, but he too was scared shitless, having his camouflage removed from around him.

Thirty minutes later she wiped off the cream and any hair with it. I raised my head to look at my lower body, junior had retreated even more, just my actual penis showing. Somehow my balls had retreated into my body leaving nothing but an empty sac there. Monica folded a section of the table down leaving only my butt sitting on something. I had raised my legs and was holding them over me as she pulled out arms from the table and set a foot in each.

She strapped them in then moved up between my legs to work on my groin, I caught a glimpse of something resembling a female’s pussy being laid next to my groin. I have never seen one in person, a picture in a biology textbook the only glimpse I have had of one. Now, I will apparently be able to look at mine daily, not a comforting thought. A mist of spray settled over the region and then I could not feel anything, numbness spreading over my groin. Raising my head a couple of times, I saw her moving junior around, then a faint feeling of something cold, then nothing.

The next time I raised my head the substitute pussy was not laying where I could see it, most likely already installed, my head flopped back hard, I was no longer a male. Some wetness in my eye suddenly appeared, a drop of which slid down my cheek. Why me, someone up above must hate me, I had a good life and now nothing is certain anymore. Everybody wants me as a female now, forgetting that my first eighteen years on this planet was as a male.

As she put the table back together again, I relaxed some, lying flat on my back staring at the ceiling. I wanted to take another look at my vagina, but seeing it would just confirm what I had become, a female, at least, in looks. She had me turn over, the lack of anything between my legs a weird sensation. Lying flat on my stomach, she coated my back side with the cream, then later wiped it off. The air conditioner had come on, the cool air blowing over my new hairless skin, made goose pimples pop up everywhere.

Laying on the table again staring at the ceiling, she moved to my chest area. For most guys a female means breasts, some large, some small, but all a delight to think about and play with when they could talk the girl into it. I would soon be one of those females, lusted after by males, not a pleasant thought. Monica tried to get me talking, she could see that the changes were bothering me a lot.

“Look Allison, you are embarking on quite an adventure, while you may not think so at the moment it is fun being female, to be sought after is a nice feeling. Relax some, then when you come back in for your weekly salon appointments we can talk about what you got to experience. Maybe you have suffered some as a male, trying to talk to a female only to have them ignore you. Maybe the pretty girl you wanted to be with, kept evading you like you never existed or when you finally got a chance to talk to her you were tongue tied, her giggling at your actions and embarrassment.”

“Now you will be on the receiving end, able to make a boy miserable just by looking the other way, or ignoring him when he says something to you. But when one of them kisses you and you melt from the inside out, you will be on cloud nine. You did say you wanted the Dolly Parton look, right.”

I immediately turned towards her, to see if she is kidding me, Monica giggling away, finally able to get my attention, my undivided attention. I watched her closely, as she set up a machine over my chest area. A semi hard breast like shape was placed over each nipple. It resembled a fairly well-endowed breast in size and had its own nipple protruding from the tip of it. These were secured to my chest with an adhesive. After the adhesive set up she tugged on the nipple of the form to make sure they were firmly attached. Next she injected a large syringe of fatty tissue in to each breast like shape. Finally a hose was hooked up to each of the breasts from the machine and it was turned on. A slow vibrating suction started pulling on the tissue inside this breast like shape.

I quickly looked at Monica, my face frozen in fear. She giggled, “These are in the right proportion to your body, we will save the Parton boobs for later in your life when you are ready to strut your stuff. It takes about four to seven hours for the machine to coax your reluctant breasts out into full view, the time determined by the size of your new titties. This is a new procedure we have here at Turnabout Gurl Salon. The cups stay on and in two to three days they dissolve away leaving two beautiful breasts in their place.”

As my breasts were being sucked from my body Monica told me she was going to make me pretty and beautiful. Her idea of being beautiful started with my nails. She filed and shaped them, then added extensions to make my fingers look longer and delicate. My toenails were handled in the same way sans the extensions. Every once in a while I would lift my arm so that I could see better what she had done. My arms had always been a little heavy looking, but now without the hair and with the gorgeous extensions on my fingers they looked slender and pretty.

There was definitely no muscle mass there, I was fast but never did any exercises of any kind other than P.E. class. A lot of the guys worked out, they were typical jocks, wanting the larger chest, and arm muscles. I could see that the changes will affect me quite a bit, since there is hardly any masculine body to cover up in the first place.

Polish is next, a base coat to insure that the darker polish would not bleed through to my own nail, then three coats of a dark red polish. Its name is a Night at the Opera, a fitting name for such a deep rich polish. Each coat received a stint underneath the UV light to set the polish, I was later to learn that it would now be a very time consuming effort to remove it. Then a shiny topcoat to finish off the manicure. When I held my hands up towards the light ten sparkling reddish stars twinkled back. Then twenty minutes later my toes sported the same polish and sparkling reflection.

I did from time to time shyly look at the filling cups on my chest, I was fascinated, but secretly hoping that they would not fill in all the way, that size breasts would be quite noticeable, not able to be hid very easily. Unless the pants were skin tight my lack of anything masculine might not be to apparent, nothing there now to protrude to say that I am a male. With breasts now it wouldn’t make any difference anyhow, all anybody will see when looking at me convincing them of my female gender.

With my nails done, and the machine still making mountains out of mole hills, Monica turned her attention to my eyebrows. Although it initially hurt quite a bit, as she continued her assault on my brows, I didn’t notice the pain as bad. When she finished she handed me a mirror, my brows were now gone, she had removed almost every last hair. What little she did leave, I was told is necessary so that I can pencil in the appropriate brow when I do my makeup. She pointed out the high arch, not as much in style now, but perfect for my face regardless of current styles.

Next my ears became her target, using a felt tip pen she marked the location of my new earrings, then with a laser gun made four perfect holes in my ears, one set lower down for drop earrings or hoops and the other set a bit higher for studs. From a huge tray of earrings she picked two appropriate pair and put them in. I immediately felt the one pair swing back and forth brushing along my neck.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard the machine that was making breasts appear on my chest turn off. She unhooked the hoses, then helped me to set up. The forms still there, just as Monica said they would but now no longer empty. Filled to capacity, all of this tissue drawn from my body. Somehow I doubted that it could be easily reversed.

After that I was led to a stylists chair, the chair leaned back and my hair washed and conditioned. Back in an upright position my shoulder length hair is cut to, I am sure, a very feminine style. My chair has been turned away from the mirror, no chance to see how much of a girl I am going to be.

My mind kept going back to my breasts. I briefly looked down at them, then quickly looked up at the ceiling, I really had breasts and sizable to boot. This changes everything, my one last hope that my transformation would at least leave me in the tomboy category now up in smoke. These breasts of mine proudly protruding from my former masculine chest were not lost on me. They were occupying my every thought.

Monica left me for a while, just me and my breasts, and my empty groin. Then a funny thought ran through my mind. In football, a guy is always worried about getting hit in the balls, a most painful way to spend part of the game. Since mine is tucked away, I wonder if that leaves me exempt from that type of injury, wouldn’t that be a hoot. Then I realized I would now be subject to be hit in the breasts, I am sure an equally painful situation.

Monica returned with her arms full of clothes, not anything like I wore into the salon. I took a deep breath, now the moment of unveiling, a teenage girly gurl in my future, and a step forward to my new life. Of course, there is a dress, but first the underwear. Bikini panties, light blue in color, but fitting me like a second skin, was slid up my legs. The tingling of the soft material as it caressed my legs unreal, the material satin I am sure. The snug fit between my legs the most obvious change. Now smooth with a slight impression of a slit visible. Then the bra, again in light blue, I presume a concession to my underlying masculinity. It did feel better, now that my breasts are supported some, the firm cups of the bra supporting my new tissue. The fact that I would be wearing one now all the time not so thrilling.

It took me several minutes to get used to the feeling of a bra around my chest. As I breathed my breasts raised and fell with each intake of air. A normal automatic action, now taking on a more exotic flavor. I watched my breasts move and was mesmerized by their movement. I looked up to see my image in the mirror, a female admiring her figure the image reflecting back.

A light blue slip, ending around mid-thigh, then the dress, a deep blue sweater dress that fit properly without hugging each of my new curves. It had a rounded collar, showing the top of my cleavage, and the curves of my non Dolly Parton breasts. Looking down at the dress, I can’t imagine breasts larger than what I now possessed, and being able to function.

I wondered how I would be able to run with them, my now smooth groin already affecting how I walk. Translation nothing to get in the way anymore down below. I am sure the two orbs up top will more than compensate for the sleek contours below the belt that I now possessed. I definitely am aware of having breasts now, every little movement of my body reflected in their actions. They seem to never quit moving or jiggling. This will take some time to get used to their activity, not something I had ever experienced before in any form.

No makeup today, just a regular teeny bopper off from school for a day. Of course, who should walk in but my Mother, one look and she is all over me. I got hugged, then hugged again, all the time she is trying to take in my new look and beauty. Push me back to get a better look, then in a vicious hug, apparently I successfully passed her own vision of a daughter. I wonder if Mom would have preferred a daughter, never stated, but the look in her eyes today sure points to it.

I guess the services have been already paid for, since I am whisked out the door and into her BMW. Yeah, any self-respecting lawyer has to have a Beemer. Getting into the car, is a new experience, but I did remember how Mom has always done it, so it only caused a slight delay. Then off we went, since this is not the way to our home, I asked where we were headed. Her short reply. School.

“No Mom, we can’t go there, they will see me this way and I will be dead meat. You can’t do this to your own flesh and blood, there is some kind of law that states that.” Oh shit, was my last words as she pulled into the guest parking lot and unlocked the car doors. She got out, then came over to the passenger side. I had opened the door, not because I wanted to get out, but to plead with my Mother for some sympathy. Instead she pulled me from the seat, made me adjust my dress and we headed to the school’s offices.

We passed several of the students that I knew as we walked along the hall, but I got no verbal response. I know I felt like every eye was on me, especially my breasts. I felt self-conscious, my two orbs were bouncing a little as I walked. If I tried to hold them still, I am sure that I would attract even more attention. We entered the office and was shown in right away. That in itself was a miracle, nobody ever got into the principal’s office that fast, absolutely nobody. We set down in chairs in front of her desk, she carefully taking in my appearance. She picked up the phone, called an extension and asked the person who answered to come to her office right away.

Less than five minutes later Coach Stone entered the office. She took one look at me, than yanked me from my chair, smothering me with a bear hug. I guess me doing this impressed her more than I thought. She made excuses and dragged me to her office in the gym. As we walked along I noticed all the stares, but no one did anything other than look in my direction. When we reached her office, I was escorted in, then she locked the door. Hanging on the wall was apparently my new uniform, complete with pads and cleats.

She wanted me to try it on, including the pads, then do a couple of laps to make sure it would not hinder my performance. I was blushing red, as I started to get undressed, but she took my hand in hers and squeezed lightly. “We are both females here, you have nothing to be ashamed about. You are absolutely gorgeous, and your actions and movements are feminine. Now let’s see what the new Tiger running back looks like suited up.”

I hung my dress on a hanger that coach provided, then slid on a sports bra that she furnished. It fit very securely, stopping most movements from my new erstwhile orbs. Then the padding, hip pads first, but with an overlapping pad that nearly covered my groin from each side. The shoulder pads seemed lighter than my old ones, but there was a lot more padding mostly around my chest. She had me move around a little to see if I still had a free range of movement.

Then the pants, in our school colors, but made out of Lycra, extremely form fitting. What made them stand out is the bright pink stripe running up and down the legs, I could not be missed in this outfit. The shirt is also form fitting, with a big circle on the back with my number in the center in pink. The pink accents blended somewhat with the school colors of burgundy and gold.

When I looked in the mirror, I noticed my reflection and broke out laughing. There in the mirror is Dolly wearing a football uniform. She handed me my helmet, recently modified with a pink stripe and led me outside to the track.

I did a few jumping jacks, my main concern is my bouncing breasts, they bounced a little, but I thought I could live with it. I took off for the track, a slow trot until I could get the feeling for the new figure. Once around the oval, then I turned it on, running as fast as I could for thirty or forty feet. When I returned to the side of the gym, Coach Stone is smiling. Back in her office, I started taking off the gear, then dressed myself in the dress that I wore here earlier.

She invited me to sit in a chair in front of her desk, wanting me to know about a few changes made today. “The old football coach is gone, he resigned since his big mouth ruined it for the school. The fact that he was solely responsible for the problem was too much for him. I am taking over the remaining few games, then if there is a next year, we will see then. It has been communicated to your Mother that the school district requires a note from a doctor regarding your Trans status, she said it would be handled. So how did the new uniform feel, will it be alright for you?”

“Yes, the uniform is perfect, although the pink accents are maybe a little overdone. I doubt any player will not be able to tell that I am a female in looks with these babies on my chest.”

She offered to go with me back to the principal’s office, but I declined. Sooner or later I will be on my own, better get my feet wet now. I made it about ten feet from her office when I was surrounded by the cheerleaders. I got hugged and kissed on the cheek, but none of them let go of my arms and hands. Tiffany, the head cheerleader thanked me for being me, and suggested that I might need an evening gown for the homecoming dance. I stared at her, why would I need a gown for the dance. Well, let’s just say that somebody nominated you for homecoming queen, I am pretty sure you will be elected by unanimous vote, so the queen needs a gown for the dance.

“I can’t allow that, I am not even a female”

She holds my face and looks directly into my eyes. “You are gorgeous, every boys wet dream, and with what you have done for the school, there is not a student here, that thinks that you don’t deserve this and more, especially me. Once football season is over I would like you to become a regular cheerleader with us for the basketball and baseball season. Now that is settled, we can’t wait to see you Friday when you come back to school.”

The rest of the walk is in a daze, they think I am gorgeous, then about being a cheerleader, and nominated for homecoming queen, the whole world has gone mad, stark raving mad. By the time I got to the principal’s office there was a spring in my step, not sure what to think, maybe Mom is right about a lot of this. No can’t go there, or admit to it even if tortured, a Mom to a teenager is never right. An unwritten law that defies verification.

I get a hug from Mom, as she asked if everything worked out with the coach. I nodded my head and we said out goodbyes and left. As we got to the car, Mom asked me what I was going to wear to the homecoming dance. I knew better than to answer, she had something in mind and that is what I would be wearing no matter what I said or did.

We drove to a shopping center, then down to the end when we came to Francine’s boutique. It was an upscale ladies fashion shop specializing in fashions for teens to women. Most of the girls at school shopped there, at least the ones that wanted to look special. Mom dragged me right in and back to the curtained area. Through that and to one of the offices along the back wall. As we entered she introduced me to Pamela, a longtime friend, and then we looked at the dresses that had been picked for me to try on.

As each one is held up against me, I wondered if many football players were experiencing the same thing happening to me. It is so weird, a normal young man playing football, now all of a sudden immersed in the female world trying on dresses for a homecoming dance. Only in America, could this happen and be thought of as normal behavior.

When Mom told Pamela I needed something extra special since I would most likely be elected Homecoming Queen, I turned to stare at her, how did she find out. She returned the stare, but the two went to another dress rack and pulled an even more elaborate fancy dress out. It had lots of lace, a pale light green color and no shoulder straps, I would be bare shoulders in this dress. I just couldn’t see me wearing this, I realize I had boobs now, but for them to be just resting in the cups of this dress and nothing else to hold them in was just too ridiculous.

I am sure you can guess which dress Mom bought. Yes, you are right, fourteen hundred dollars’ worth of dress. It was pinned and tucked, alterations to be made and I could pick it up tomorrow morning, well Mom could. I wondered how I would be able to play football, get cleaned up, dressed, makeup and be at the dance before it ended. Then I thought how the Homecoming Queen is always introduced at the halftime of the game. Another impossible situation, if I am indeed elected Queen. I sincerely hoped that I would be ignored, that honor I will gladly pass on.

We left the clothing store, hopefully towards home, but forget that. Mom drove us to a large clinic where quite a few doctors had offices. Then I guessed I was to see a shrink, and get my transgender letter. I wondered how that would work, I wasn’t transgender, never had been, so do I lie, or what. Mom escorted me to an office on the third floor. We entered and I had a seat while Mom talked to the receptionist. She returned to talk to me, telling me to just answer the doctor’s questions honestly. Don’t lie or make up a story, just the truth.

I was called back quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to read any of their magazines. The doctor turned out to be a lady, a very attractive one, who easily made me comfortable and willing to answer her questions. I really didn’t keep track of her line of questioning, the questions seemed simple, my answers usually brief. Before I realized it two hours had passed and she was still asking questions. Towards the end, I began to remember some of the questions, and my answers surprised even me.

According to Dr. Whitcomb, I had a feminine side, just too scared to show it in public. She pointed to several of her questions and my experience at the salon today. Most males would have run screaming at even a hint of these things, yet you sat there taking it all in, but was calm and interested in what was going on. I asked you about whether you saw yourself as a female, you tried to fight the truth, but after a few minutes you acknowledged the desire to learn more and maybe dress as one. A logical, level headed statement from an individual that is centered and goal driven.

She handed me the letter, and wanted to see me every few weeks to make sure I was handling things properly. I asked if she wanted to see my mother, “No, I have talked to your Mother about this for quite some time, we are on the same thought process, and want you to find some happiness in your life.”

“You have talked to my mother about this before today.”

“Yes, we started meeting about your welfare almost three years ago. I know of your history, your schooling and even have managed to slip a few psychological tests in to your normal achievement testing so that we can see what your thought processes are and have been.”

“Now run along, tell your Mother hi and I will see you in two weeks.” I walked out to the waiting room, looking for my mother. When I walked up to her, I told her we had to go.

I was so angry at her, three years and I am just finding out about this. “When we get home you and I are going to have a talk, and I want the truth from you, not the crap you have been telling me for the last three years.”

She broke out giggling, then that morphed into laughter.“You sound just like me, even the words are the same. Misty, I have got to go, as you can see I am in trouble here, I will call you later for the next appointment times.” Misty is apparently the receptionist and Mom knows her quite well since she used her first name.

The trip home is in silence, I really wasn’t mad at her, how can anybody be mad at someone for caring about you. Of course, still being a teenager I had to keep up appearances, never giving in to a parental unit for any reason, one of the cardinal rules. We entered the house, she went to the kitchen, and I went to my room for a while. I guess there is more to this than just taking advantage of a situation. My love for my Mom knew no limits, she has been my buddy, my friend, my confidant, and my guide through life so far.

After thirty minutes I wandered back to the kitchen, she had dinner almost done, so I set the table and got us something to drink. I got a smile from her. “You forgive your Mom for loving you and caring about your well being?”

In a whisper barely able to be heard, I said “Yeah, I forgive you but I want a full account of all that has been said in triplicate, with the necessary signatures. Maybe even a notary stamp, if it has been over a year or two. If you have tapes of the conversations I may have to ask the court to make those available for my inspection.” That was the extent of my legal jargon, so I quit and broke out in giggles.

We laughed for quite some time, I could see the look in Mom’s eye, the same look she gets when she talks about me becoming a lawyer like her. I nixed that right away, “A Mom like you, maybe a model, maybe a teacher, but never a lawyer.” It was my standard reply to her standard question, neither of us changing our wordage. I did get her I love you look, however.

Dinner was unusual to say the least, when Dad arrived I got a mouth open stare that lasted for quite some time. Mom introduced me to him, as his daughter Allison. He was still staring at me, his mind trying to decide what to do. I made the first move going up to him and giving him a hug.

“Daddy, don’t you like your daughter, I know Allison loves her daddy.” Well that was apparently what he needed to hear as he hugged me tight, kissing my forehead many times. Over dinner it was all explained to him, he chuckled several times since he knew the former football coach pretty well. Later in the evening he told Mom he would help paint my room a more feminine color, maybe a canopy bed might be more appropriate now.

Mom confided in me that I had handled Dad well, I was now his daughter in his mind, never to be a son again. We both know this is how it will turn out so be thankful. I asked her about this homecoming queen business, telling her that I saw many problems since I was also playing football. Unbeknownst to me, she had talked to my coach and they had worked out me leaving the game before half time about fifteen minutes early. The cheerleaders would help me change, apply some makeup, and help me into the car for the ride around the field. My hair would be in a ponytail for that part of the queen’s duties. After the game, the homecoming dance had been set to start later to allow for the queen’s activities. I was still unsure I would be selected to be the Homecoming Queen, though if Tiffany is right it seems to be a sure thing.

“Wow, you start wearing dresses and everything changes.” She told me that a shower after the game would freshen me up, but at halftime I just needed to use a little more perfume. I giggled picturing me at the line of scrimmage smelling like flowers. I guess I could ask my defender if he liked my perfume, before I raced off to get the ball. Then I thought of playing the second half wearing mascara and lipstick, if one of my teammates made a good block I could kiss him as a reward. Well, I don’t think I need to go there yet, playing football one minute, wearing heels and an evening gown the next just might be enough spice for one night. I will leave the kissing for another time.

I ran through a lot of different scenarios that evening before I made my way to bed. I am sure my imagination got carried away. Some of the things I came up with were pretty ridiculous. Mom poked me in the side after yanking off my covers the next morning. She seemed happy, maybe because she has a daughter for a while. Dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, some fruit and a granola bar, and I was being led out to her car. A short drive and I was deposited back at the salon.

Monica was ready for me, some womanly hips first on the agenda for today. Naked and up on the table again on my stomach. Same rigid thingies as yesterday, but fitting over my hips on the side and behind me over each separate half of my butt. The fat was added, more than yesterday, after the shapes were glued on. The machine returned for an encore performance. Soon, well five hours later, I possessed a cute butt, Monica’s words not mine. After filling the forms the hoses were removed and I ran my hands over my new cute ass.

The rigid forms had a little give in them, but kept their shape. The amazing thing was how they felt, just like real skin. I had yet to feel my breasts, still a little scared of having them in the first place. When I touched the form of my breast, the tissue felt soft and pliable not rigid like yesterday. It also jiggled more, now the need for the bra even more apparent.

Makeup next, definitely another world entirely. She showed me on her face what I was to do, then had me do mine to match. I used several makeup wipes to remove the mess that I made before I started to get the makeup right. Then clean everything off and do it all over again. For a break from that she had me in some five inch heels walking around the salon. The first few trips were comical, her suggestions helped, and soon I was strutting my stuff with confidence. From the first time the heel was placed on my foot I knew that more than an hour or two in them would result in very tender and sore feet. They were comfortable but the arch of my foot was high, causing an ache in the calves of my legs.

More than a few times she had me back at the makeup thing, cleaning it all off and reapplying it. I even got lessons in applying false eyelashes. I will have to admit that my looks after makeup were 100% female, not a sign of Allen anywhere to be seen, not that my figure with hips and breasts didn’t scream female already.

She gave me a few hints about my voice, with an hour of practice I was definitely female with regards to vocal ability. In fact, after that hour I had a hard time dropping my voice back into a masculine register. The image in the mirror convinced me not to try and drop the voice back into the masculine range, the feminine image requiring something more appropriate.

Next is some deportment lessons, how to sit, what to do about my hands, even a few basic dance lessons were thrown in. I could dance before, but following instead of leading were the focus of these lessons. Mom showed up, her megawatt smile fully deployed. She came in from a different door to the salon and after hugging me we went back through that door. Imagine my surprise when we walked into a woman’s dress shop, Francine’s dress shop to be specific.

Apparently Turnabout Gurl has a clothing store attached to most of their salons, my Mother shopping for her daughter all afternoon. She showed me a few things she had bought, then we went out to her car. Lucky for me that I was small for my age or I would have never fit in the car. Boxes and bags all over the back seat and even a couple in the middle of the front seat. I was told the trunk was packed also.

“Isn’t this a little much for a short time impersonation? I mean when football season is over will I need all these clothes?”

“We will cover that when we get there, but I doubt you will return to the masculine role. Don’t get your panties in a wad about this, just take one day at a time and let’s see where all of this leads you.” I laughed at the panties remark, but then thought of how good the ones I have on felt. I also doubt that the breasts that were sucked from my body will suddenly just vanish back into it. Add in the hips and Allen will be very difficult to reproduce.

The next morning it was time for the real world, I dressed like a typical teenage girl, some capris, a cami and a pull over top to make me legal for school. Mom wanted me to wear a dress, but I nixed that, the day might be more trying than I anticipated so minimal is better. She dropped me off at school, a big change from when I was Allen. Allan used to ride the school bus, he had his driver’s license, but it had been jointly decided to wait on getting him a car until he went to college.

As I entered the school I was warmly welcomed by almost everybody. It did puzzle me some, to be acknowledged as a female so easily. All through the halls they were signs asking for the students to vote for me as Homecoming Queen. When I got to my locker, there were cards all over the front of the locker. I opened a few of them, all thanking me for what I did for the school. The cheerleaders showed up, surrounding me and then helping get the cards unstuck and in my locker. They walked me to class, then giving hugs and kisses before they went to their own class.

Each teacher that day had me stand, asking the class to show their appreciation for the sacrifice I had made for the school. The applause was genuine and loud. At lunch the cheerleaders had intercepted me and led me to their table. They had gotten me a plate, with all of my favorites on it. They wanted to know how I felt, if I thought I could still play football, and most importantly if I had gotten a gown to wear tonight.

The conversation was interrupted when the PA system announced the winners of the Homecoming Queen and King voting. Allan, now Allison, was flabbergasted when she was announced the winner with ninety five percent of the vote. A fellow football player, the quarterback Chad, was elected Homecoming King. I winced a little, quickly thinking of some of the things that the king and queen did during the festivities, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I knew Chad was open minded, but treating his former male running back as a female was not part of the deal.

Two more classes that afternoon, then a study hall, followed by a meeting of the football team, and then the big game. Nothing much happened during the rest of the day, although I was asked for a date several times. I tried to talk then out of it, but my repeated statements that I was male fell on deaf ears. I was telling them one thing, but their eyes were telling them something far different.

The football meeting was just some strategy for the game, Coach Stone wanting us to not get cocky about the game. Play your regular game, minimize the mistakes and may the best team win. Our former illustrious leader would make great plans, changing everything we did at the last moment to try and catch the opposition unaware of what we were doing. Sometimes it worked, most of the time it flopped.

I did connect with Chad, apologizing in advance for the situation we were thrust into. He smiled, “Allison I don’t have a problem with you as the Homecoming Queen. You have saved all our butts, besides I think I want that kiss with a terrific looking young woman. It doesn’t bother me in the least, maybe we will both find out that we like it.”

Coach did have one strategy that she made me aware of before we took to the field. She wanted me to apply a full makeup, focusing on the eyes and lips. Then as we lined up for a play she wanted me to flirt with the opposing player. If nothing else make kissee faces at them before the ball was snapped. We had talked before about the opposing team zeroing in on me during the playoff game, my speed now quite well known through the league. If I could distract several of the defenders, we might get a chance with our other receivers.

Out to the field, me thinking about all of this. If I did get some college interested in me, I wonder if it would be my football skills or my flirting skills that will get the most notice. Then again I could always go into cosmetology, my makeup prowess could be my big break. I had spent twenty minutes on my makeup, even applied some false eyelashes that I had originally intended for the Queen’s festivities. In the first huddle as we had received the kick and managed to return it to mid-field, Chad took one look at me and started laughing. All the rest in the huddle looked my way and soon we were all laughing out loud.

I did have to make a concession to my new femininity, with my new nails it was a must to wear gloves, and of course Mom found the girlish, laciest pair that fitted very tight to the hand. All the better to keep me from breaking a nail, more importantly to allow me to catch the ball without much interference.

The first play he called was a pass to me about twenty yards out. We broke the huddle and lined up at the ball. My defender took one look and stood up shaking his head. I blew him a kiss as Chad took the ball, I managed to get a five yard lead on my defender and easily caught the pass for a touchdown. The kiss was not blatant, just me puckering up and making a kissee noise. Our opposition had a conference on the sideline with their coach talking to one of the referees. The other referee jogged over to me and took a look at my face. Before I could say anything he returned to the conference and shortly thereafter it broke up.

Coach Stone and I smiled at each other, they had apparently complained because I was wearing makeup and had been shot down. That is what females do, wear makeup. We kicked off and they managed to run it back to our forty yard line. They were a good team, quite talented and proficient in their play. I played defense this time around, the player I was defending against almost missed the hike, slow to start running his pattern and seems to be still looking my way every chance he got. Their quarterback threw the ball to him and I was able to intercept it easily grabbing the pass and taking off for our end zone. As I ran the distance I felt my butt swaying wildly, I am sure it was noticed by more than a few of our opponents.

The rest of the game is just a repeat of what had transpired already. I am sure their coach laid into them at half-time, but the makeup still managed to distract them. At the scrimmage line and even while running patterns, I had several pairs of eyes on me, and not watching what they were supposed to. I made another interception and two more touchdowns that game. When they put two defenders on me it allowed one of our other players to be free, let’s just say it was a rout and leave it at that.

Half time was a hoot for me, the game was going well, and I hardly broke a sweat during the first half. When I was taken out early, the cheerleaders helped me to get into the dress, and changed my hairstyle to go with the gown. I rode in the convertible around the field to loud cheers, then lined up with my escort for the crowning. Chad had hold of my hand, squeezing it often, in fact, he had lifted me out of the convertible and set me on the ground next to him. After we received our crowns, the kiss was next. I decided to make it a short peck on the lips to keep from embarrassing him, the fact that he was kissing a boy probably not to his liking.

He definitely had other ideas, the kiss was intense and lasted for quite some time to a thunderous applause from the stands. I was wobbly after that kiss and he held me to steady me. The cheerleaders came to my rescue and I was led off the field to get changed back into my uniform. I regretted getting out of the dress, a drastic change had come over me, and I was embracing the female lifestyle now looking forward to when I could slip back into the dress and maybe dance a little. I made sure my makeup was up to the task and returned to the field.

Suddenly, football had lost a little of its attraction, my thoughts on the dress, my heels and maybe another kiss from Chad. As stated earlier our opponents had difficulty keeping their mind on the game, trying to keep their eyes on me instead. I sat out part of the fourth quarter, Coach Stone trying to keep the game within limits and not humiliate the other team.

As I sat on the sidelines my mind was not on the game but on me as a female. Nothing felt fake, my body looked female, as it should be, since my mind had decided that is now my proper gender. I liked the attention I received from the other boys, Chad was a hunk, but although the kiss was fantastic I was sure there would be someone else more to my liking. Surprisingly another female never entered the picture, my desires seemed to be centered on the masculine side at the time.

Since I had set out part of the fourth quarter I was able to get back to the gym, with help from a couple of the cheerleaders, managed to remove my football uniform and slip into a shower. All of this was done in the girl’s gym. It was a quickie, just my body since I didn’t have the time to dry and curl my hair. Coach Stone even came to help me into the dress with Tiffany helping freshen up my makeup. I felt so good, the female in me quite happy to be in the dress, my hair curled and with appropriate makeup. I was caught looking in the mirror looking at my reflection, a tear trying to escape from my eye. Tiffany just smiled, I can see that you are really a girl at heart, just enjoy the evening, the rest will straighten itself out. She handed me a Kleenex to stop the tear from ruining my mascara, and led me to the auditorium.

I swayed my hips, enjoying the way the dress swished around my legs, as I followed her to the dance. I could feel every movement of my breasts against the cups of the dress, a most delightful feeling. As we entered the auditorium, I was cheered receiving lots of hugs from the girls. Chad the Homecoming King came to take my hand and led me to the stage to be formally introduced. The principal made the introductions, as I blushed all over as the rest of the students cheered and called my name.

As the music started, I was asked to dance, Chad getting first crack at me. I could see the line forming to the side for the rest of the dances, it looks like I will be doing nothing but dancing, for the whole evening. Some of my partners were very nimble on their feet, most were not. I was held tenderly by everyone, as if I was made out of porcelain and would break. The dances I had attended earlier in school had a mixture of fast and slow dances, but tonight every dance was slow and romantic. I later found out that the males had paid the band to play nothing but slow and romantic.

I did lay my head on most of their shoulders, it just felt right somehow. I did keep my distance body wise though, not wanting to find out how much I had inspired my dancing partners. I gave each a hug when the dance was over and a brief cheek kiss before I was swept up in the next dance by another partner. I set out one song to use the ladies room, and get something to drink.

When I returned the line was still there maybe even longer. I did notice out of the corner of my eye when Coach Stone stopped several trying to get to dance with me twice. I quick look at my dainty watch told me that the dance should have been over several hours ago, a look at the line showed only two more males to dance with. I danced the last two dances then looked up when Tiffany approached and took my hands leading me to the dance floor again.

The band played Time of My Life and Tiffany led off taking me places I have never been before. She held me close and we moved as one around the dance floor. I am sure it was not even close to the movie, but it felt so wonderful. The entire room was deathly quiet except for the music, but every set of eyes was focused on us. I only looked into Tiffany’s face and eyes, as we danced around the floor, but I could feel everyone else’s attention on us and only us. There were no other dancers, the spotlight following us as she led me through the dance.

When the music stopped I was embraced by her, the sensuous kiss seemed to bore into me. I leaned back into her arms and let the sensations take me away. Then to my surprise the band started playing Hungry Eyes, from that moment on I remembered nothing other than the sheer bliss of being in my true loves arms being caressed and loved. The kiss at the end of this dance was all I needed. I had found my true love and she shared my love. As we left the dance floor we received hugs, and kisses from the girls but Tiffany had one destination only on her mind. As we approached her car she asked if I needed to go home first. I presumed I was going to her home shortly, so I just made a phone call to Mom.

I turns out that Mom had been at the dance as a chaperone and I hadn’t even seen her. “Yes, I know where you are and where you are going, enjoy yourself. I would like to meet Tiffany when the two of you quit making out, but that can wait until tomorrow. Just remember what love is and cherish it for the rest of your life.”

“I love you Mom, we will be by tomorrow to talk.” I scooted closer to Tiffany and snuggled up as close as I could get to her. At the next light I got another kiss, I hope she never tires of giving them. I know I will never get tired of receiving them. The evening was surreal, romantic, loving, everything a young female could want. I was treated as an equal by Tiffany, I got hugged and cuddled, but she expected the same back from me. It was several hours later when we fell asleep in her bed, each of us holding on to the other tightly, to prevent the other from getting away.

The next morning Tiffany let me borrow a pair of capris and a very brief lacy top. Twice I asked for something a little more coverage wise, but the smile from Tiffany pretty much told me of her answer. We stopped at a drive thru for nourishment, then on to my house. Tiffany dragged me into the house, then found and confronted my Mother. Hugs were exchanged and then the two went off talking leaving me standing there wondering what is going in. I tried to track them down, wanting to be sure my interests were represented. Tiffany attacked me, my clothes lost quickly. I was sent to get dressed in my own clothes, and out of their conversation. I hesitated for a second, but when Tiffany approached me taking me in her arms and planted a sensuous kiss on my lips while making my nipples hard as rocks with her ministrations I decided a retreat might be called for. I rubbed my nipples as I walked upstairs, they were already sore, a combination of last night and this morning’s TLC.

I found a dress that looked comfortable. I knew not where it came from, it seemed to fit appropriately, was in a color that I liked and was exquisite on my body. A couple of days as a female and I have already been assimilated. I changed panties, finding a lacy pair that barely covered my assets. They felt so good as I pulled them up my legs. The matching bra was practical, caressing my nipples and comforting at the same time.

I slipped on a pair of heels, not even thinking twice about wearing them. The fact they were in the same color as the dress made them my shoes of choice. I walked back downstairs, the meeting between Tiffany and Mom now apparently over. They were sitting in the kitchen drinking orange juice and eyeing me up as I entered. I got a sensuous kiss from Tiffany, she was definitely not holding anything back because my Mom was in the room. I parked myself on Mom’s lap, time for a little interrogation of my own. Laying my head on her shoulder and looking up at her eyes, Mom broke out giggling at my actions. “You little minx, trying to manipulate the manipulator.”

“Okay, time for a reality check, I asked Tiffany her intentions towards you. She explained her wishes, we planned a fall wedding, after you graduate as a senior. A two bride ceremony, with a honeymoon in Cancun. You will be a stay at home wife, since she already has a career planned. She has been training to take over her Mother’s business and run it. Since you have turned down following your Mother’s career choice a housewife for you might be the only thing you can do justice to. Tiffany wants kids, so a mommy will be added to that job description at a later date.”

“It has been decided that you will be a cheerleader after football season, then a full time cheerleader during your senior year. Of course, two proms, we will select your gowns in a week or two. Weekly appointments at the salon from now on to maintain your looks, maybe a permanent to keep your curls fresh and enticing. I have already thrown out all of your male clothing, no need for it anymore, the space will be sorely needed for your new wardrobe. Now do you have anything to add or any questions?”

I leaned in and hugged Mom, kissed her on the cheek and asked when we can go shopping. Then over to Tiffany and planted a toe curling kiss on her with tongue working it for all its worth. I stepped back her mouth open, short of breath and her tongue partially hanging out. “No all of that is fine, as long as the two of you are in my life I am happy. Now we are wasting time, I need clothes, jewelry, makeup, shoes, accessories, and my room is so boyish, I simply can’t live like that anymore. So let’s go.”

I think Tiffany and Mom were trying to get me to react by planning my next two years as a female. But it sounded exactly like I wanted it to happen. The wedding, being a housewife, a mommy, and most importantly loved and cared for. With Tiffany and Mom I would indeed be loved and cared for. I must remember to thank the authorities for making this possible, a misplaced effort to control something turning into a wondrous dream for me. A dream I can truly embrace. Imagine me, a token transsexual, a life I can and will embrace.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

Saturday, June 29, 2024

Clara: To Be A Flapper

Clara: To Be A Flapper

My history class was becoming quite a problem. The teacher was middle age and female; she was strict in her teachings, making us learn every facet of history or we would not pass. She loved to assign research papers on the time of history we were studying, she handled that by engaging us in debate during class about some part of what we were studying. Then, as a subject came up, she would pick a part of that, then assign it to a member of the class at random. Whenever she assigned a subject to one of us, there would be groans, loud ones. She would giggle and then sometimes add to the subject she just handed out. Believe me, no one slept or daydreamed in her class, we had to be alert to keep from being singled out more than usual.

We were talking about the early nineteen hundreds and female beauty. The original conversation was about flappers but as most of the discussions in our classroom, it quickly migrated to beauty, female actresses and hair styles. When I saw her glance my way I should have panicked, but she seemed to move on shortly thereafter. She had handed out quite a few subjects that would require papers of at least five thousand words. She did allow adequate time for us to do research for our papers, usually six to eight weeks.

When I first encountered Ms. Johnson as a teacher, I rebelled when she handed me an assignment, I told her she couldn’t make me do work that everyone else was not assigned. That was not the response she was expecting, I quickly learned as she added to my assignment. Then when I questioned where I could even get information on what she had assigned, she added another section to my report. Now three similar subjects and fifteen thousand words were due, the resulting paper to be half of my semester grade. I caught myself before I groaned out loud, fearing of what that might cause her to add to my already overloaded homework.

I did get the research paper finished and got a B on it, much to my surprise. She made numerous notes on the research paper, questioning parts of it and mentioning that more information was out there for this, but was not in my paper. I took the hint, my next assignment was only the minimum length and I researched it thoroughly earning me an A+.

Now though we were in the next semester, starting all over again. I had hoped for the other history teacher, like most of my fellow classmates. But when classes were assigned I was back with Ms. Johnson.

Today though, I was trying to keep a low profile, beauty, female fashions and flappers was not really where my interests were. I did catch her looking my way several more times during class, but my name was never called. With about five minutes of class remaining, I sighed a little, knowing that I had made it without being singled out. I didn’t hear her call my name, too busy patting myself on the back for escaping untouched. She repeated it several times, finally, I heard her and answered.

“Nice of you to join us today, see me after class for your assignment.” Apparently there had been several of us singled out, a line at her desk awaiting me. From the ones ahead of me and what they were receiving in assignments, this was not going to be good. The second one in line got four subjects added to his paper, now owing twenty thousand words to the history teacher. Each one in the line left dejected and very depressed, I moved up and discovered that I was the last one.

Well Clarence what have you to say for yourself today? My brilliant reply, Huh? She giggled at me, “You are a challenge, very smart but not really motivated. So let’s see what I might do to change that a little. First, your subjects for your research paper are flappers, Clara Bow, flapper fashions, and makeup of the twenties. You are to convince me of how they tie together and relate to the history of the period.

Now for motivation, twenty thousand words, listing ninety-five percent of available research, and tying in its importance to the history of the period and pictures as you deem necessary for the paper. You have three weeks from today to prepare it and have it on my desk. I will make an exception in your case, basing your semester grade on the results of your paper. I know your abilities and I will not hesitate to flunk you if you don’t put in the effort necessary to do this right.”

I stood there utterly in shock. I opened my mouth several times and nothing came out. I did sit in the chair opposite her and managed to ask her to reconsider. She smiled, “Okay I will offer you one option to the previous assignment. In three weeks, you walk in here to my office and present yourself in appropriate clothes, makeup and hair of Clara Bow, answer my questions of the period and their tie-in to your looks and I will give you a passing grade. Get all of your questions right, and present yourself as a proper flapper and I will award you an A+. Your choice, take it or leave it. Now, you have quite a bit to work to do, I might suggest that you get at it.”

The bell was the only thing that brought me back to my senses, well partially back. I walked right by three of my classmates, all three asking me questions on what I had been assigned. I didn’t hear a word they said, I doubt I even knew where I was going. When the bell rang for the start of the next class, I found myself in the cafeteria, not the Algebra class I should be attending. I went to the Principals office, telling them I didn’t feel good, which was true.

They gave me a note and sent me to the nurse’s office. I eventually made it there, the nurse quickly checking me out. Again, she was talking to me, asking me questions and I didn’t hear a word she said. I found myself laying on a bed in the office, when my mind finally came around some. I spoke some, because I was still kind of lost and did not realize how I even got to be in her office. I lost consciousness again for a while, then set up quickly when I realized I was not in class. Ms. Fowler sat next to me and we talked some, working in some of the questions she had into the conversation without me realizing it.

I think she has seen similar behavior in the past, since she mentioned that I had just came from History class. There was quite a smile there, she did allow me to stay for another class before she wrote my excuse and sent me back to class. I spent that time trying to figure out what happened today and how in the hell I was going to handle it. Three weeks and twenty thousand words, researched properly, that would be a monumental task for a computer, much less a student. I knew I wouldn’t question her, the last time that was tried, I got even more work assigned. Nope, I will have to do the research, then write the paper.

As I walked to class, a tear escaped my eye, my hand brushing over my eye trying to remove it from sight before anyone else saw it. I did make it through the next class, lunch to follow, as I made my way to the cafeteria. I grabbed a sandwich and went outside to the tables looking for a quiet corner to sit and think. I walked to the far corner of the courtyard, finding a table under some trees, allowing for some shade from the hot sun. As I looked around, I was one of only three out there, everybody else inside with the air conditioning. It wasn’t really that hot, the cool breeze making it somewhat bearable. I needed the quietness more than the cool temperatures today.

I let my mind run wild, trying to figure out why I got this horrible assignment, and how in the hell I was going to get a passing grade on it. The first bell rang signaling the end of lunch and I had only taken three bites out of my sandwich. I threw it in the garbage, by the time I had a chance to eat it, it would be spoiled most likely. This day was not going well, probably will rank as one of my worst in twelve years of attending school. Yes, I was now a senior, if I can somehow hold it together enough to graduate in two more months, I will be out of school for good.

My parents wanted me to go to college, but so far, the urge to spend four more years in school was not there. A stint in the service would be preferable to four more years in school. I did manage to make it through the last three classes of the day. Luckily, I was not called on or subjected to any pop quizzes.

I gathered up my books and headed towards home, the two mile walk might be just what I needed to make the day bearable. As I was covering the last block of my walk, I ran into Beth, my next door neighbor’s youngest daughter, a fellow classmate and sufferer of the same history class as I. She was getting out of her friend’s car, where I had to walk, she usually rode with one of her friends. After waving goodbye to her friends, she walked over to me and asked if I wanted a coke. I hesitated but she grabbed my hand leading me into her house.

Her Mom hugged her and then gave me a hug too. She had noticed my frown when I entered the kitchen, figuring I needed the hug as bad as her daughter Beth. Beth grabbed the cokes, then dragged me to her room. I spent a lot of time with Beth, we were friends and had been for quite some time. Each of us has supported the other through some tough spots, so the friendship was deep and pure.

After twenty minutes and numerous questions, she finally got me to tell her my assignment. When I finished she took my hand and squeezed it. Her next statement hit the problem right on the head. “What did you do to Ms. Johnson to piss her off? You will be lucky to get it done, much less good enough to get a passing grade!”

I didn’t say anything, Beth grabbed my other hand and made me face her. “Okay, what are you not telling me about this assignment? I want the truth, if I am going to help you, I need to know what is going on.”

I swallowed hard, finally telling her about the other option in lieu of the paper. She giggled several times as she looked at me closely, apparently seeing if this other option might be a possibility. She dropped my hands and went to her computer and brought up the internet. Some five minutes later, she had what she was looking for on the screen. She placed her hands on either side of my face and stared into my eyes, you are taking the second option, you are a dead ringer for Clara Bow.

“Now starting tonight, I want you researching everything you can about the period and about the lady. Print out what you find, so that I can quiz you about it. I mean everything. The quizzing starts tomorrow, your lunch period now belongs to me, you will be with me every lunch period and after school until time for your appearance. I will take care of your clothing, makeup and hair, that is gathering it all up, you are going to learn to do all the transformation yourself. Your hair is long enough, do not get it cut or I will personally see to a humiliating experience right in front of the whole school. Am I understood?” I nodded my head, speech was impossible.

Ten minutes later I was in my house, accessing the internet myself. I found way too many references to Clara Bow and the flapper era. Maybe Ms. Johnson will not have the time to find them all herself, sparing me some aggravation. Of course, I had no idea which ones she would find and quiz me about. I printed fifteen references, read them thoroughly trying to remember the material for my quiz tomorrow.

I kept coming back to Clara’s picture that was in most of the references. Some of the pictures of her were cute, a curly hairstyle framing her face, the mostly short dresses showing off her legs and the makeup quite pronounced and very feminine. I tried to picture my face in place of hers, but just couldn’t see the resemblance. Maybe Beth was just kidding me about the resemblance.

The next day at school, Beth was waiting for me, I didn’t even get to eat anything, Beth said I needed to lose a few pounds anyway. I did manage to get through the history class without further stress or assignments. The whole class was subdued some, her assignments taking their toll on everybody. Beth was one of the few lucky ones only five thousand words and two extra weeks to complete it.

As soon as we sat down outside, the first questions started in. A few minutes into the session, I knew I would have to study harder, I was missing way too many to make it through her test in three weeks. Beth didn’t say much but I could tell she was thinking of another way to make the information stick with me better. That afternoon, on the way home from school, she walked with me; I knew how much she was trying to help me, even turning down her ride so she could spend more time with me.

I was dragged into her house, handed a diet beverage and pushed into a seat at the kitchen table. Her words were short and highly punctuated. Total immersion! I was trying to figure out what that meant as Beth was talking to her Mom. Then, her Mom made a call to someone, and twenty-five minutes later my Mom entered the kitchen. Now I was scared, Mom seldom, if ever, came home early from her work, now, two hours before she normally came home, she was standing in front of me. Meanwhile, Beth’s Mom was on the phone again. This couldn’t be good.

I tried to zone out like I did in class when things were piling up and I could see no way out of them. Beth was the first to break through my façade, getting me back to the now and present time. “Starting Monday you attend school as Clara, you will live and breathe Clara until the three weeks are up. That means dressing like her, makeup like she uses and acting as much like her as possible. It is maybe a touch crazy, but if Ms. Johnson flunks you, you are looking at summer school to be able to graduate. I will watch out for you, forget about the ones making fun of you, this is way more important.”

“This is Friday, starting tonight you are Clara, wardrobe and makeup tomorrow, and all weekend you are going to practice dancing and acting like her. We have found a couple of movies featuring her so that is on the agenda tonight. Tomorrow we hit the shops to get your wardrobe and makeup and you practice the rest of the weekend doing it yourself. Now are you going to participate or do I need to spread a few rumors Monday to convince you that I am serious and will not be ignored in this.”

I nodded, but apparently that was not enough. I had to tell her that I was appreciative of the plan and would embrace it wholeheartedly. I then dropped my head and shed a lot of tears, talk about being lost as what to do this was definitely it. I know she was trying to help, maybe this will work, but dressing and acting like a twenties actress is far from mainstream. Of course, of the questions Beth had asked me earlier I had only got three right, maybe this way the material will stick with me.

The final blow came a few minutes later when Beth’s Mom got off the phone telling all that I was cleared to attend school as a female until needed. Gawd, the tears did continue, nothing so far making the situation any better, at least, in my mind.

Mom was her usual self, listening carefully to everything and nodding approval of the plan. I thought sure she would come to my rescue, but instead she thought it was an excellent way to get me to learn about this period in history. She even ended up calling the salon she uses and got me an appointment for early Saturday morning. Beth was asked to go with me for moral support, and to make sure I was sufficiently changed to meet the requirements of the assignment.

I was sure after they tried I would be deemed still too masculine and everything would be dropped, leaving me to concentrate on doing the paper somehow. Back in my own house, I was ensconced in a very frilly nightie and put to bed, Mom kissing my forehead as she pulled up my covers. That in itself was a shock to the system, first time since I was two or three that I got put to bed and kissed.

The ensuing few days were a mad rush as they shopped all the vintage thrift stores looking for appropriate clothes for me. The salon appointment changed my hair style to one that fit the roaring twenties. If that wasn’t bad enough the hairstyle was helped along with a curly permanent. Two hours of me sitting in the salon chair as each section of my hair was wrapped around small curlers after securing it between a paper produced the tight curls of Clara. The curler was tightened so much I felt any more tension would have my hair falling out of my head. Then came the smelly permanent solution and a short stint under the hair dryer, followed by it being rinsed out and a neutralizer applied to stop the curling process. That again rinsed out, then the curlers were removed. My head was covered in small curls the eight inches of original length now only five inches or less.

Another set of curlers were then put into my hair, larger than the others, but no other solution or chemical added. Another stint under the dryer and then they were removed. The sight of my curly hairdo was comical, but after she started brushing it out it turned into something so feminine. I looked like Clara now or countless other flappers I had seen pictures of in the research material I was gathering. Even at the salon I had articles in front of me trying to absorb all the info. It was somewhat easier with the new look, the hairstyle only reinforcing the look of a flapper. I started to see the connection to what the history was and my looks.

The main difference was that I was that female I was learning about, not just a subject, but the exact image of her anytime I looked in the mirror. It hit home, made it all real somehow. When I read a part of her history I could almost feel it, dancing at one of the clubs she frequented, I could picture me doing it, reveling in the applause I would get after performing for a show. I could read about a movie she was in, could almost feel the kisses, and the interaction with some of her male co-stars.

Now when I was quizzed I got most of the answers right the first time, not having to review the answer for later. Quite a change from a few days ago.

The big change was going to school as Clara. The first day I got a lot of funny looks, but as the days wore on, it got less and less. Ms. Johnson was the quietest of my group, she recognized me right away, calling me Clara from the first day. She was polite, still calling on me in class, but not exclusively. Every time I caught her looking at me in class, there was this small smile on her face, reminding me of a cat who had just finished something tasty.

I ended up going back to the salon several times, each time a little more was done to make me look more like Clara. At home I was taught that style of dancing, a friend of Mothers who had a dance studio doing the training. It came easy, once I let down my guard some, five lessons later I was doing several twenties dances with ease.

Needless to say Clara remained as a student for that semester and the one following. I did graduate, even received the diploma made out to Clara, my legal first name now. Beth never gave up on me, once I had Clara down pat she moved on to me learning the movements and nuances of a female. After we graduated a quick trip over the state line and we are now married. Junior is still there under the silicone vagina, you can never tell when he might be needed, if so he is there ready and willing.

For a career I decided on American History specializing on the early 20’s and especially Clara Bow. I teach at the same high school I attended a few years ago, Ms. Johnson now the principal here. Oh to be a flapper was my motto back then and still applies today. Beth in particular loves her flapper and I enjoy being one for her. So far no male students like me that resemble Clara, but surely there will be one along one of these days.

© 2016 thru 2024 by Francesca

  Taylor: A Surprising Reward I am a systems analyst for a large corporation, been one for fifteen years, anxiously looking forward to re...