A man and his two sons have been selected to participate in a reality show. They think that they will take part in an "Amazon Adventure Challenge." In reality, they will transform into three black women and compete against other teams for the next six months. The guys will participate in girly challenges, dance classes, and learn how to be women. For the finale, all the contestants enter a beauty pagent and America votes for the winning family!
 
 

The Challenge
By Tyler

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The letter had finally arrived in the mail from NBC studios. Our family had been selected to participate on the "Amazon Adventure Challenge" reality show. My dad Joe and my brother Kevin were very excited when they opened the letter. In one week we would be flown to an affiliate studio in Boston where we would begin preparations for our participation on the show. It was going to be exciting.

One week later, we were in the lobby of the studio with six other groups of fathers and sons. All of the Dads were between the ages of about 28 and 45 and the sons were anywhere from 12 to 18 years old. The secretary told us all to sit down and get comfortable and get our coffee. After about 15 minutes of waiting, a small man who looked like Michael J. Fox came out of the black door and introduced himself.

"Hi, my name is Matt," he said. "If all of you would please follow me into the auditorium.

All of us(18 guys total) formed up into a single file line and walked into the room. We took our seats in Movie-Theater style chairs.

Matt walked up on stage and stood at the podium. He began by saying, "I want to thank all of you guys for coming here to take part in our challenge. It was designed to test even the strongest of men and your famlies will go through an experience of a lifetime that you will never forget. Before I start, I want to introduce some people to you."

Then, 7 blindingly beautiful women walked out on to the stage from the left exit. Two were Japanese women, three were black women, with one brunette and one blonde white woman each. All were immacualtely made up and all were wearing tight, form fitting, desinger outfits with heels and stockings/tights. All the guys were asking to themselves what these gorgeous models had to do with any "adventure challenge."

"CBS aired 'He's a Lady', five years ago," said Matt. "However, that show was a joke. We misled you when we told you all that you would be taking part in a survival contest. Instead, the point of this show is to live as fully functional women for a period of six months. We will make every one of you as gorgeous as the women standing up here."

18 jaws dropped. You could hear a pin drop.

"However," Matt continued, "We have another twist. Not only will you boys all be made over into beautiful girls, but you will be changing race as well. Yes, every one of you will see what it is like to live life as a black woman. After six months, America will vote for the winner, and that family will receive a grand prize of 2 million dollars."

This was totally unbelieveable, I thought to myself. My dad was in absolute shock; he had a blank experession on his face. My 13 year old brother, I think, was a little too young to take it all in. But I was a 15 year old boy who played three sports. What was I ever going to do. I couldn't go to a school and wear tights and barettes and dance with boys and be girly. This was going to be so embarassing and I would be humiliated for the rest of my life when I went back to being a man. I couldn't stand the thought of my dad putting on those flamboyant outfits I usually see black women wear.

A couple times when I was 10, my mom dressed me in my older sister's ballet outfits but that had been a one time thing. I thought about how good those white tights had felt. My mom and sister were going to be all by themselves but Matt assured us that they would get an allowance while us guys were otherwise occupied. Matt continued to talk about how we would be taking ballet, charm classes, going to a prom, and so forth, but it was all a blur.

After a minute or to, my attention came back to Matt who was still speaking. "These 7 women up here will be your coaches. Relax, they are actual women, unlike you girly guys."

The cameras stopped rolling and we were filed out into a large back-room type area. One of the ladies who was on stage, one of the black ladies came up to us. She looked like Gabrielle Union, and she towered over my dad by 3 inches. She was wearing a white skirt suit with white tights and black heels.

She shook my dad's hand and said in a thick urban drawl, "Hi, my name is Fiona."

"I'm Joe," my dad replied, "These are my sons Kevin and Mike.

"Its nice to meet you girls," she said. "You girls have nothing to worry about. Everything will be all right. After we transform you into black girls, the four of us will all be moving to a small town in New Hampshire called Dresden where we will live for the next six months. Basically, I will be your coach and I will help you with all of your female tasks. I will help you guys do your hair and makeup and select outfits to wear every day. I will show you guys how to use feminine hygiene products and stay beautiful. I'll help you guys learn to dance like women and give you extra coaching with your ballet. At the end of the six months, there will be a pagent where you all will model some swimwear and a gown and perform some dance routines."

"She continued, you boys will attend school and after school you'll be involved in cheerleading, ballet, jazz dance, and future homemakers of America. Dad, you'll be getting a job at Hooters and you'll be my "wife". I'll expect you treat me as you would treat your husband, with the execption of sex, of course."

"Oh," she said, "I almost forgot. Joe, your name is now Monique. Mike, you are now Brandy, and Kevin, you are now Kendra. I will only refer to you by those names from now on."

So we were led back to an absolutely cavernous backstage area with all kinds of "stations". I could tell instantly that it was for makeup. First, we were led back to a bathroom where the three of us took all of our clothes off and put or guy clothes into boxes. We put on pink bathrobes and walked out wearing only the robes and some pink shower shoes. All 18 guys eventually filed out and every group was sent to separate stations with their coaches to begin their transformation work. Cameras were on hand to film the process intensively and conduct interviews during our breaks in the middle of our transformation.

My dad said to us, "I want to tell you guys that no matter what happens, we are still men. We may be girls on the outside, but we are men underneath."

"Its fine with me dad," Kendra said, "I want to get that money. I don't mind being on TV and being famous. Girls like androgynous guys anyway."

"I want to back out," said Dad, "but with the economy as bad as it is, if we win, all of us will be set for life. Besides, my company was downsizing, so I could be laid off and then we'd all be homeless. Also, we'll be able to pay for your college."

"I don't see what choice we have," I chipped in, "If we back out, the media will call us cowards for not participating."

We spent the next hour in a shower stall shaving all the hair off of our bodies except for our heads.

The three of us headed to the first station, which was a tanning booth. A Pakistani girl was responsible for giving us a nice ebony tan. She had each of us take our turns and go in with our robes off. Dad went in first and was sprayed for 10 minutes. He came out and was the color of a Hershey bar. He would have looked like a black man except for he still had his white-guy hair cut, so really he looked like a Sri Lanken. I went in next and I was sprayed the same rich color. I watched my white skin slowly turn dark and I wondered to myself how long that this effect would last. It was then I realized how fortunate I had been so far in life to be a white guy. Being a little black girl was going to be a challenge. I would have to listen to rap music and date black guys and wear thong underwear. I was kind of looking forward to ballet class.

Kendra then went in, and after she came out, we all looked totally different then we had that morning. The Pakistani girl explained to us that the spray-on pigment would last for 9 months before fading, so we would have to slowly adjust back to being our old selves.

We were led to the second station. A guy dressed in gothic clothes had boxes of some strange items. He opened up one of the boxes and there were some absloutely enormous brown blobs. It was clear at once what they were for. He told my dad to open up his robe and he took two breast forms in my dad's shade the size of cantelopes and glued them to his chest. Dad had absolutely enormous boobs. But I was petrified when the man grabbed two more forms that were only slightly smaller and he glued them to my chest. I could no longer see my feet, and these things were heavy and cold. The color of the breasts matched my skin perfectly. I knew then that I would have to wear big bras and it was going to be a huge challenge.

My little brother had a medium-sized pair of breasts glued to his chest. The guy told him that after about 3 months they might give him bigger ones, since Kendra might mature a little bit. He then handed us each a pair of shaper panties and he told us that these would "hold us in" Again, they were the same shade as our skin and we pulled them on. When we all had ours on, there was no trace of our manhood and we all were built like women from the neck down.
 
 

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We were led over to a salon area with three chairs. We were told to each take a seat in the high-chairs. Each of us were suddenly attended to by two makeup artists who came over to work on us. The two girls first trimmed my thick eyebrows down to thin wisps. They applied a beard cover to hide my peach fuzz and put some foundation on me. I was given mascara, rouge, the works. As I looked over, my father and brother were getting prettier and prettier.

Fiona said to us as they were making over our faces to look like pretty black girls just like her, "Later, I'll teach you guys the specifics of makeup for black women. But now, just sit back and enjoy this unique time in your lives. You boys are going to have some style and get your groove on. We'll all do some booty calls!"

The girls probably used about 20 strange products on my face and lashes. For the final touch, they put some purple lipstick on my lips. I opened my eyes and there was a hot black girl with short boy-hair staring at me.

However, soon, the salon girls came back with hair-extensions and weaves. They clipped a long mahogany fall into my short hair and soon I had long hair.and all my malehood was starting to vanish. My brother soon had long black hair and they were beginning to pull it into a mass of tight, short curls. In all of our hair, Fiona sprayed some sort of substance and explained it to us, "White people and black people have different types of hair. What I am spraying here will give your hair that fuzzy, nappy quality that all black people have."

My dad wasn't getting long hair. The short hair that he had was getting cut and styled into a short afro. He would look like a black lady from the 1970's. Fiona explained, of course, that he would grow it out as a matter of course and he would try some get different styles, such as weaves. Fiona was so protective and loving with dad, and she said that she couldn't wait to make him her little sister and watch her blossom as a woman.

My hair was going to be wavy instead of curly. The girls spent about a half hour using the wavy curling iron on my hair after putting the spray in it. To help the style, they pulled my hair into a ponytail and put a couple braids and barettes into my hair. Fiona told us that we would learn how to do braids later and that we would enjoy spending hours braiding eachothers hair and doing makeup and playing dress-up. We would have so much fun wearing our L'Eggs brown sugar pantyhose. No more football for us! It was all going to be kotex, ballet, and boys.

My dad was just about done and I thought he was absolutely gorgeous. There was no trace of Joe and actually, all three of us would have no trouble passing as girls or being gorgeous for that matter. Kendra's hair was a mass of curls and her makeup was done in a style perfectly appropriate for a girl her age. I looked in the mirror and saw that I was finished, and I couldn't get over the downright hot black girl that I was. When I was a white boy, I never thought that black girls were hot, but now I was getting excited just looking at myself.

"Okay girls," said Fiona, "Its time to change into your outfits."

Fiona took us into the girls restroom. Even though we were all a different genetic gender, we had no problem with a loving presence like Fiona helping us dress in the nude.
I was given a white lacy bra, a pair of white cotton panties and a pair of medium denier white tights and I was told to put them on. I got on the bra over my massive boobs fine enough but Fiona had to help me hook it in the back. She showed me the right way to put on my pantyhose and soon my lower body was solid white to contrast with my ebony skin. It had been 5 years since I had last worn tights and I realized then how sexy they were and how hot I really felt.

Dad got into some beige lingerie and sheer pantyhose, and Kendra pulled on some black tights over black undies. Fiona helped them as she had helped me. It was so strange to see dad being called Monique and seeing another black lady pull up his tights like he was such a helpless little slut. What had happened to the masculine man who had used to take me fishing and hunting? How could we ever go back to the way things were after doing all of the girly things we were ready to embark on?

Fiona brought in our first outfits. Dad put on a short purple halter dress with a hemline that ended mid-thigh and he wore a pair of purple pumps. Monique put some gold jewelry on him and spritzed him with perfume. My little brother put on a pair of tap pants over his tights and a tight white top to go with a pair of pink keds. I put on a short black skirt and a tight black top, to go with a pair of high heels. I put on a small silver necklace and a couple of bracelets. I looked in the mirror and I could not believe the finished product. I looked like a little model. My top really showed my cleavage and made my breasts look perky as hell. There was no trace of Mike. We looked like a cute little family of women.

Fiona put perfume on all of us and she sat us down an painted our nails purple. We walked out and had our after pictures taken to go with our before pictures. The whole time I had a small erection building in my tights and I was really enjoying being a girl. "I'm really proud of you," my dad said to me.

"Dad," I said, "What should I do. I know this is embarassing, but I have an erection in my tights?"

"You'll have to wait until we get to New Hampshire tonight," dad said, "Then, you can take care of it as soon as Fiona OKs it."

"You think Fiona is hot, don't you dad," I asked?

"She is really a very attractive woman, but I'm already married."

"Are you excited about being her 'little sister'," I asked him?

"It seems like it could be fun in a novel way," he said, "I'm not worried about you little brother, but you need to try your hardest to just go with the flow for the next 6 months and not complain about anything. The stuff might seem "gay" to you but we all have to do it to prove that we are men and can handle anything."

"Okay," I said sheepishly. I did a little swish.

While we waited to depart, Fiona was giving us a crash course in girly walking and talking. She was clearly enjoying herself treating my dad like her little sister. Dad seemed to be enjoying himself.
 
 

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I was quite anxious and nervous as we got into a helicopter and flew to our new home in Dresden, NH. The four of us were taken to a big suburban house were we would live. We were told that the school and town center were only two blocks away.

We went inside and looked around and it had everything, Internet, 600 channels, the works. We explored all of our rooms. The only downside was that there was nothing manly anywhere in sight, like a pool table or weights.

First, I went to the bathroom where I pulled down my tights and panties and was finally able to go to the bathroom. As I was going, Fiona knocked on the door and reminded me that next time I had to sit down to use the toilet. The toilet would not flush unless a butt had activated the seat. "Young ladies never stand," she said.

I pulled back up my undies and pantyhose and I looked in the vanity. Inside was everything from mydol to Massengil. Under the sink there were packages of Tampax and Kotex. "My god," I thought, "This is what I am now."

I went up to the room that Fiona had designated for me and looked around. In the walk-in closet I had about 40 tops, 30 dresses, and some other clothes that had all been prefitted for me to wear. They were all really colorful and girly looking. I had what seemed like 50 pairs of shoes of all styles on the floor. I noticed in there that I had a pink ballerina tutu with leotard, as well as a white tutu. I had a couple blue cheer uniforms and what looked like 5 prom gowns that one could wear to a dance. Some of the tops had lace or ruffles on them. I pulled out a random top and it was a red shirt that had SEXY spelled across the bust.

In one drawer, I had a stockpile of panties and bras of various styles to last for a nuclear war. In the drawer down, I had about 60 pairs of tights and hose in various colors.
In the next drawer, I had all of my ballet leotards and wrap skirts. I also had pants, skirts, and booty shorts, as well as anything else a girl might need.

Fortunately, the room was not pink, but plain white, so I could at least retain a little bit of masculinity. I did have my own private vanity with an arsenal of makeup and hair products.

Fiona knocked on my door but came in without invitiation. "Later," she said, "I'll teach you how to do your makeup and hair yourself. However, it is late, so you have to go to bed. Tomorrow is Sunday, so all we have is church and a ballet practice. Monday, you start school. It will all be OK, sweetie. Your mom, Monique, was tired and fell asleep as soon as she got into her bedroom."

So I showered, shaved, and washed my makeup off. Before I went to bed, I was cold so I put my tights and panties back on. I looked down at my huge boobs and this whole thing didn't seem real. I was a black girl now, not a white boy, so my big boobs were just a part of me. Soon, I was asleep.
 
 

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My dad wore a black skirt-suit to church with nude hose, and he wore a big floppy hat on his head, which I thought was hilarious. However, Kendra and I were put into white tights and matching flowery sundressses, and we wore white headbands in our hair. It was crazy, putting our hosed feet into dress sandels and trying to maintain our modesty in our dresses. It was kind of satisfying to feel our whole lower bodies in nylon. We were all carrying purses and handbags that Fiona had filled with our feminine essentails. None of us said a word in church, and we just sat there silently and wanted it to be over. We did notice, to our surprise, some other groups of black women sitting there ashamed who we recognized as our competitors.

On the ride back home, Fiona said to us, "Girls, Brandy and Kendra, you will be dancing the 4:00 PM class twice every week. Brandy, even though you are 15, you will need to dance some "remedial ballet" with the younger girls, so you can get caught up to the teen level where you should be for a girl your age. So Kendra will dance at 4:00, Brandy will dance at 5:00 and twice a week at 4:00, and Monique will dance at 6:00 with the adults." Monique just sat there in the front seat powerless as Fiona drove home. It was surely killing him to see his once masculine sons, his pride and joy, dressed as pretty black girls. How could any man with any pride stomach seeing his boys in little leotards and tights doing sexy little dances and booty calls.

So we got back home and I waited upstairs for Fiona to dress me. She spent some time helping Kendra and then she came into my room. She was wearing a blue camisole leotard, white tights, and pink tennis shoes, and she looked HOTTT.

"Brandy," take off your tights and dress, "She ordered."

I stripped down to my lacy white thong and Fiona said, "We'll change your tights just so you don't feel dirty." She opened my drawer and brought me another pair of white tights and she had me step my ebony legs into them. I rolled the hose up to my knees and then I wiggled them up my hips as I stood up.

"You're doing a good job putting them on. You don't want to run them."

I got the waistband all the way up to my waist. Fiona helped me straighten my tights out and she smoothed the pantyhose over my legs. I was getting so aroused. I mean, I was a horny teenage boy who was being dressed by some hot lady. She was in her tights and she was close to me, rubbing against my back as she was getting me ready for another girly debut. It was embarassing knowing that a hidden camera in my room was filming all of this but I was enjoying the moment and I would deal with the consequences when I was a boy again. But now, I was a hot black girl playing dress-up with her mom's hot friend!

Fiona grabbed a hot pink leotard with short sleeves and had me step into it. I put my arms through the sleeves and I looked in the mirror. I was a hot black girl ready for dance. Because of my shaping panties, I looked just like a smooth girl around my crotch. I was told that I would wear tennis shoes to ballet but that I would put on my slippers when class was ready to start. My legs looked sooo good in tights, and I thought it was cool how my white legs came out of the holes in my pink leotard and how the leotard covered my whole body. The leotard was really tight and was really pushing my boobs up and my bust looked really prominent. I was such a hot, shapely black girl with a cute ass. I wondered if there would be alot of hot girls at dance and if they would want to date a guy who was trying to be a black girl. I thought that all the girls would look really cute in their dance outfits, just as they had when my older sister had taken ballet.

I was going to be excited to see how my brother and dad would look in their ballet gear. I stepped into my pink keds and Fiona touched up my makeup. She tied my ponytail into a "ballet bun."

I was ready to debut for everyone my ballet clothes and I stepped out of my room. My dad was wearing a red cap-sleeve leotard with white tights and he had a pink "ballet bag" with a spare leotard and tights and his ballet and tap shoes. He was every inch a gorgeous ballerina. My little bro was wearing a baby pink leotard with white tights and his hair was styled in a ballet bun. He too had a ballet bag with "essentials." Fiona handed me an identical bag in case I had a run in my tights.

"Wow Brandy," you look so hot," My dad said with full conviction of a mother raising a teen daughter. Her daughter was ready to blossom and grow into a full woman. At ballet class, we would learn the grace and poise we needed.

Fiona pulled three small spray bottles out of her dance bag that looked like three small containers of mace. "This is girlie spray," she said. Spray this into your mouths twice every day and your voice will begin to register to that of a woman. This spray has all of the hormones you will use and soon you will start to see some feminine development. She explained to us that we would have some breast development and our hips would widen. This was designed especially for black women so our voices would develop that ethnic African tonation in one weeks time and our hips would get extra wide. Eagerly, we sprayed some into our mouths. I planned to use extra because I really wantedt that money.

So we marched out of the house like an army of ballerinas and drove to the ballet studio. Fiona told us that later, as we matured as girls, we would have the privilege of wearing wrap skirts or sweats on our way in so we wouldn't be so "exposed" to staring guys. For now, we would have to have our legs and buns exposed so we could empathzie with actual women.

We entered the studio and we were greeted by a petite blonde girl named Amanda, who was dressed in ballet-teacher gear. We said nothing more than "Hi," in our highest voices, since we would still sound like white guys. We knew we had to try hard to be feminine.

I felt bad for Dad who had to sit around for two hours to wait to dance while his daughters took their classes. However, Fiona explained that it was the woman's role to chauffeur her daughters to all the activities and that she had to put up with the irritants along the way. Dad/or Monique, would be the housewife in the family and he would be responsible for the domestics while Brandy and Kevin had to focus on being as girly as possible so we could have a good chance of winning.

My brother and I, dressed like little dancers, walked into the main ballroom where Amanda was getting the music ready. There were about 8 other little pre-teen girls warming up who were dressed in tights and leotards who were ready and eager to start class. They all looked so cute and eager. It was a far cry from my old football practices where the coach yelled at us all the time and made us run laps and do drills. It was going to be a refreshing change to get to do something halfway civilized and intelligent for a change. I thought I would have more fun learning dance steps.

Two of the girls were older-looking black girls around 14 years old whom I automatically assumed were in my situation since they were clearly here for "remedial" ballet. 2 of the girls were little Moslem girls wearing their head coverings but they still wore pink tights and leotards and showed off their legs(so much for modesty). The other two girls were little black girls but I was unclear if they were really boys or not.

The older black girls sort of shyly hid in the corner and were reluctant to talk, as was I. They seemed quite timid and ginger about this whole thing. I knew that the key was to relax and just have fun, so I was going to make the most of it. I walked up to the Middle Eastern girls and introduced myself as Brandy. I noticed that the one girl had an image of Princess Jasmine from Aladdin on the front of her leotard and the other had a Beauty and the Beast themed leotard.

"Hi Brandy," they said back to me. "You have really pretty hair." So I was on my way to acceptance. Hopefully the viewing public would see that I was trying hard to fit in as a girl.

The girls were ready to ask me questions, but Amanda said, "All right girls, everyone get to the barre to begin warmups." She put some waltzy piano music on the boombox.

For half of the girls it was obviously their first dance lesson and I had no clue what I was doing. Fiona, another coach, and Amanda would take turns helping me and the other girls do the basic moves. It was over my head but they were moving my legs and arms to put me in the right positions.

After 15 minutes of warm-ups, they told us to partner up. The little moslem girl with the Jasmine leotard chose me. I was glad because she was the only girl who seemed like she knew what she was doing in class so I would have an advantage over the other boys/girls. Even though, she was only 12, she looked really cute and I actually thought that if I was a guy I would consider asking her out, even though she was perhaps a little young. For some reason, I thought it was strangely arousing how she still wore her headcover but looked so good in her tights and had a nice, developing body.

"I'm so glad wer'e going to be ballet partners for the dance, Brandy," she said to me. "I'm Zafira, by the way."

"I'm glad you picked me Zafira," I said. I was glad it came out as smooth as it did. I tried to put a little urban inflection in my voice.

Amanda handed each group a little piece of paper with some song lyrics on it. I looked at the song.

I'm all dressed up in pretty clothes
And going out to tea
I get to wear my pink dress
All the boys look at me.

"I know this song, I'll work on the steps with you later," said Zafira.

Amanda changed the CD track and the song music with a babyish girly voice began singing the above lyrics. Amanda told us to follow the steps. It felt really weird trying to do the girly moves in my ballet slippers. I was trying to point my toes like a show girl and be graceful as i shased around the floor. I watched as the other boys/girls tried to keep up with some difficulty. Zafira took my hand and "led" me like a ballroom dancer as we went through the steps. She held my hand as we went off for break.

"See you next week," Zafira said to me after the class was over and she left the studio.
 
 

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The class was of course so much fun and was over with WAYYY too soon. But I still got to then keep going and dance with the older teen girls. 5 more black girls came in wearing ballet gear and four totally hot white girls were with them. These were the kind of hot girls who were WAYY out of my league at my old school. I assumed that the black girls were my male competition.

So with some basis in dance now, I was able to get through the young-teen class, even though it was much more difficult. But it was still fun, and I was totally going to do ballet, but as a boy, when I got back home. In any case, since the tan wouldn't wear off for a while afterwards, I would probably get to do some ballet back home as Brandy, and the girls at my High School would have no idea it was me, since the show wont even air until 2010! I'll get to change with them in the locker room and everything! It will all work out, and being a black girl in disguise will have some advantages.

But I was beat after my 2nd class, and I can't remember a football or wrestling class ever being quite that tough. Ballet would totally compensate for my other sports and I would totally be coordinated when I went back to wrestling. I went into the girls room and checked my makeup, and I wiped off some running mascara with a baby wipe in my purse.

My dad went in to start his class and my brother and I had to wait in the lobby for an hour. But there were the five other black girls/boys sitting out there who were waiting for their dads/moms. We all looked so adorable in our hot outfits and I was sure that the hidden cameras were having a field day with 7 white boys sitting around dressed as little chicas. Two of the boys were wearing black tights and black leotards with short attached skirts. Another was wearing a plain black leotard with thick nude tights. The other two got purple leotards and pink tights. I felt so ridiculously feminine sitting there. I had to constantly remind myself that I had to keep my feminine poise so I had to cross my tighted legs, sit up straight, and keep a smile on my face.

We all made some subdued small talk. No one wanted to show any weakness or actually admit that they might be enjoying this. I talked to Leticia, one 16 year old, who had been a computer geek kind of guy and he said that he never expected to do anything like this. He wanted to go on an outdoor adventure to prove his manhood to the world. He looked so uncomfortable in his spandex and nylon.

So after a long day, we drove home as a new family, missing our real mom and sister. We ate a quick meal, and Fiona told us to meet in the living room for our first feminine lesson. We kept on our ballet outfits and Fiona was ready with packages of Tampax and Kotex.

She explained female menstruation to us and the basics of female puberty. She told us how we would begin to see some breast development and our hips would widen and our muscles would soften. We would develop fat deposits in our hips and our body weight would transfer to our lower body. Though my dad was older, he too would redevleop like a teen girl would and our male puberty would come to a screeching halt. Not to worry, though, after all this was over our body would start producing testosterone like normal again and we would be back to our old male selves. But for now, our bodies would be flooded with estrogen so we could be hot ebony babes.

She told us how girls use kotex to stop menstrual bleeding. We wouldn't have to worry about tampons, since we had no female cavity, but Fiona wanted us to experience Kotex. Then, she told the three of us guys to take off our leotards and pull down our tights and panties to our knees. We had a breif chance to admire eachother's topless female bodies. My dad's bust jiggled whenever he moved. Fiona told us that from now on we would have to start wearing bras to dance class, since we were bouncing more than she had initially first thought we would.

Fiona opened up a package of Kotex as we all dropped our white tights and panties to our ankles and exposed our smooth black butts. I thought it was amazing how femininely dad was able to drop his tights. Fiona took my dad and showed us a thing that looked like a small diaper and put it over the top of my dad's shaper panty. She pulled his black french-cut panties back up to keep the Kotex on and had him re-raise his tights to his waist. As she had done on my dad, she put Kendra's kotex on him and got his tights back on straight. Then, she helped me with my Kotex and re-wiggled my tights back up over my sexy but. We all looked like we had some bloating down there.

Feeling as gay as could be, we put our leotards back on. I felt like a baby girl wearing a diaper, and my once masculine dad was now totally humiliated. We all looked so funny with the Kotex on but Fiona said, "This is what girls have to put up with all of the time, and you boys need the full experience. Just wait until we wear empathy suits to simulate pregnancy."

She continued, "For the first couple months, we will do thngs developmentally appropriate for younger girls. We will have tea-parties, play dressup, and play with dolls. We have to resimulate the female development process over six months. Tomorrow night, I will show you some basic makeup and hair tips for black girls so you girls can start to spread your wings. Right now you all are totally dependent on me, but soon, you will be confident, sexy women."

Class was over, but tomorrow I had my first day of high-school. My uniform had already been laid out for me, and I was going to have to be really careful not to let the boys look up my skirt, even though I would wear panties. But I took off my ballet gear, showered, and soon I was fast asleep.

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To Be Continued...