The guys continue to develop as females.
The next couple days flew by and I knew that it wouldn't be long before I could get back into my jeans and go back to being Mike. I had learned my lesson from wearing the Pocohontas leotard at ballet class and I knew that if I was going to be accepted by the girls at my school, I had to dress in more mature outfits. My little brother, on the other hand, could still get away with wearing whatever he wanted, since he was still at the middle school level.
At school, I spent all my time with my gang of black girls. I was glad that I was doing this experiment, since as a white boy I would not have had a chance to meet such great people. I was excited to hang out with Krystal on the weekend. When we sat around at lunch, I was taking mental notes, on what they wore, and how they talked. Soon I was thinking in black-english vernacular and I was adopting some slang. I was trying to model my girlie personality on thiers, and I was trying to fit in and be like them. But I felt like I wasn't just a guy trying to win an acting competition, but a budding girl stepping into her womanhood.
Fiona had me read, "Are you there, its me, Margaret." She filled my bookshelf with Cosmo, Ebony, Black Woman, and all the magazines she thought I might need. I was reading all the time and I was just devouring information on makeup, boys, and clothes. It was alot more interesting to me than the score of some meaningless football game. I couldn't wait to "grow up" in the eyes of Fiona. I would spend time trying to improve my makeup skills, and I would braid my brother's hair.
My brother and I used to fight all the time, but we had done a complete 180 turn the last week and now we did nothing but try on eachother's clothes and talk about hair and boys. Kendra would discuss boys in her class all the time and how cute they were like she was discussing the weather. I still considered myself straight, but I think the hormones were starting to get me a little boy-crazy too. But for now, me and my brother were having the time of our lives wearing dresses and leotards and talking about the boys we'd like to date. After this was all over, we could go back to being Mike and Kevin but we just wanted to live in the moment. My dad may not have been happy about his son's embracing the feminine life, but he was just happy that we were getting along. In any case, my dad was far too concerned about his upcoming debut as a Hooters Waitress and all of the female training Fiona was giving him to worry too much about the future. We were all excited about the possibility of winning the prize.
So at cheerleading tryouts, I was a shoo-in. My knowledge of the cheers was marginal at best, but I impressed all of the girls there by my handsprings and backflips and there was no doubt that I could learn the easier stuff. In addition to cheering, the squad performed a jazz dance routine at the halftime of every football game.
I had a ballet class right after my cheer tryouts and I slipped on a black leotard with white polka dots and an attached skirt. The attached skirt had a little white rose on it and ruffles underneath. This was the kind of leotard that would reveal your bottom when you twirled. It was kind of overly feminine, but I had been admiring it and I was determined to wear it. I had white tights on underneath, and they made my legs look long, smooth, and sexy. I loved the feeling and sound my legs made when my tights rubbed together and I could feel the swish of my skirt and a cool breeze on my nyloned legs. I spent some time on my makeup and I was the picture of girlishness.
I went into the living room and my dad said to me, "My god Brandy, I have never seen you looking this feminine."
I did a little twirl and said, "My god mom, I've only been a girl for one week."
What I noticed now was that my natural voice, if I did not try to change it, was still deep but decidedly female. In the mirror, I saw that my hips were about an inch wider than they had been last week. I noticed that my dad's arm muscles seemed to be getting smaller and his butt was a little bigger too.
"Its so cool how we're starting to turn into real women," I said to my dad, "I bet mom wouldn't even recognize us.
Dad said to me, "I can definitely feel the changes. I'm kind of excited. It will be nice to just be able to talk and have an actual female voice come out." Dad then went upstairs to get into his ballet gear. Five minutes later, dad came down in a pink leotard with an attached skirt and white tights. What shocked me was that on the leotard was an image of Snow White. My brother was at his side wearing a black leotard with a small pink rose between the breasts and red tights.
I was so jealous of my dad. Here I was wearing such a cute outfit, and my dad came down looking so sweet. "Where did you get that leotard," I asked him?
"I found it at the back of my ballet drawer," he said with a feminine lisp.
"I am so jealous," I pouted.
"You can borrow it anytime," he said as if he was talking about baseball cleats. As he got closer, I could see that he was wearing a pair of pink lace panties over his white tights but under his leotard. I thought it was hilarious that you could see the lace fringe of his underwear sticking out from the bottom of his leotard. I wondered what Fiona would have to say about that. Between the Snow White leotard and his visible panties, he looked like a 4 year old girl who had dressed herself for dance class. And this guy was wearing a flannel shirt 8 days ago?
"Uh, Mom," I said, "If you're going to wear panties to ballet, you at least have to wear them under your tights. I can see your Victoria's Secrets."
"I know baby," he said, "I'm just going to try it this way for once."
I felt embarrassed in the way a mother might embarass her teenage daughter with poor fashion sense. But there was no time to argue as Fiona came out of the bathroom and herded her girls into the minivan.
At dance class, Amanda had some big news and told us that our school, in conjunction with two other dance studios, would be performing theh ballet "Sleeping Beauty" in three months. I didn't know much about it but the other girls got excited. We were told that everyone had a chance to audition for any part.
I sat in the studio and watched the adult class and I watched Dad go through all of the ballet moves he had been taught. I sat in the chair and put my brother's hair in some beads while he looked through a dancewear catalog and imagined how he would look in all of the sexy costumes. I got to hang out with Zafira, Krystal, and some of the other girls, but I was still too nervous about talking too much and giving away the fact that I was a boy. I did make arrangements to hang out at Krystal's house Tuesday night after dance.
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As a family, we had been looking forwards to Sunday afternoon, our one week anniversary, because we would take part in our first feminine challenge. We received letters from Matt at our homes to get dressed up in the cutest outfits that we could put together, and our coaches would drive us to our challenge.
Fiona got me into a peach colored bra and panty set. She put a pair of black pantyhose on me and then put a tight blue top with long sleeves on over my bust. I put on a black leather miniskirt and a pair of black pumps. She then sat me down at my vanity and spent a half hour putting up my hair into a really cool style with braids and beads. She did my makeup tastefully and painted my nails blue. When I was all done, I couldn't believe the finished product. I was finally an actual teen girl instead of a little grade-school girl. I posed for about 20 minutes.
I thought that my brother was still too young to do anything with being sexy but Fiona dolled him up in a pink top and a pair of black jazz pants. My dad put on a lilac-colored dress with a flower print that ended mid-thigh and he wore sheer pantyhose underneath. He took the brown sugar pantyhose out of the package and noticed the black girl on the cover. "Oh well, I guess that is me now," he said. I noticed how the hose colored perfectly with his ebony legs and he looked very natural. We spent some minutes judging eachother's outfits but there was no doubt that there were 3 sexy, man-starved, gorgeous black women in the family who wore outfits screaming, "TAKE ME." I was hoping that the challenge had something to do with boys.
We were as excited as little kids on Christmas morning as we got into the minivan. My father and I were wearing short skirts so we had to cross our legs and try hard to maintain our modesty. Fiona really hadn't had a chance to get us used to short skirts and I had only worn them once before. Still, all of us guys were absolute goddesses. It was the first time i had seen my dad in something cute besides a ballet outfit outside of the house. He seemed to be more comfortable as a woman and it was nice to see him loosen up and get completely into Monique mode, instead of the timid way he usually was. He was laughing and joking with Fiona the whole way there, talking about how cute guys like Taye Diggs and Will Smith were. I was shocked to see my dad talking about how sexy guys were, but our brains were rewiring and we were redeveloping as women. Dad was being flooded with female hormones and he couldn't help himself. He told Fiona how much he loved his brown sugar pantyhose. Then, he looked back and said, "You girls will be in heaven when you put these tights on."
So we arrived at a convention center and our heels clicked as we walked into the room. Matt was in there shaking the hands of 15 other black women already in the door. I recognized 3 of the younger girls and 2 of the older black girls, and 3 of the moms/dads, as new students at Amanda's dance studio. So now we knew exactly who we were competing against. I assumed that some of the other guys were going to a different dance studio? It was a good chance for us to size up our competition, but all of the other girls looked and acted so feminine, at least at first glance. All of the girls were in tight little outfits; tight tops, skirts, stockings, heels, the works. So we realized that mabye we weren't doing as well as we had thought.
We wanted to get started, so Matt had all of us take our seats. He told us that our challenge was that we would all go into a crowded bar/nightclub, and our goal would be go get as many guys' phone numbers as possible. The family trio that picked up the most numbers would be the winner and would get 100,000 bonus votes in the final vote. Our appetite was whetted.
Leticia, who had been at dance, was just stunning in a LBD and some sheer pantyhose. Being a nerdy and dorky guy in real life had helped him transition easily, since he already had a frail build and it was nothing for him to physically transform into a soft black girl. It was clear that he was doing awesome and he had a huge ability to be flirtatious and charm guys. I realized that he was my biggest threat. I was a black girl with big boobs but of course I was worried that I would do poorly in the competitions.
All of us girls entered the bar. It was full of guys ranging from age 12 to 30. The younger girls were supposed to target the teen guys and the dads/moms were supposed to play up the twenty year olds. I felt great, when not two minutes into the competition, I looked over and saw dad already with his hand on a guy wearing a suit. My brother started talking to a group of four guys, but I stood at the bar, kind of nervous. But suddenly, I heard a squeaky little voice say from behind me, "Hey sexy."
I spun around me and it was the dorky little guy from science class who couldn't keep his eyes off my boobs and tights. Even now, he was staring at my black pantyhose. But he was at least a phone number. Still, this was the kind of loser who'se head I would have stuck ina toilet at my old school. However, all of my male instinct was dormant and only Brandy was here. I flipped my hair back flirtatiously and said to him, "Hi yourself."
"I've always had a thing for black girls," he said to me somewhat forwardly.
"I've always had a thing for white guys," I replied. This was the first time I had ever flirted with a guy. I had had a couple girlfriends back at my old school but I had never dreamed that I would be standing here dressed as a girl and actually somewhat seriously flirting with a boy.
I got into a comfort zone and within an hour, I had picked up six numbers. But I thought that it probably wouldn't be enough. Dad had hung off the arm of the same guy for the whole hour and I wanted to go over and shake him and tell him to play the field and shake it for all the guys. But after the hour was over, Kendra saved the day and had gotten ELEVEN guys' numbers.
Matt tallied the votes and we won the competition. As a team, we had 18 numbers to Leticia's 16 numbers. So we were doing OK.
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After another ballet practice that night, Fiona got us together for another feminine development lesson. We happly took our girlie spray and were really eager to soak up everything Fiona had to tell us about living as women. She was very pleased with how we did in the challenge and decided to give us a "special" lesson. As we typically did, we remained in our ballet outfits. I had put on my dad's Snow White leotard as i had wanted to do. Dad was back in his Little Mermaid leotard, and Kendra was in the polka dot leotard that I had worn earlier. Fiona was wearing only a sports bra and a pair of really tight black shorts.
"Tonight, I was going to begin with an introduction to cooking and sewing," said Kendra, "but, you girls have shown so much enthusiasm and skill in becoming women that I am going to begin to talk about sex. You girls will learn how to please a man and what you need to do to be good wives."
We were grateful that Fiona thought so much of us as girls to begin to talk about sex with us. I couldn't wait to learn the "birds and bees." I knew all about male puberty, but girls were a mystery to me. Us three black ladies sat there with wide eyes as Fiona began to tell us how to masturbate a boy.
"When you three were guys," said Fiona, "I know you all masturbated alot." We got big grins on our faces. "This is a serious subject girls," she said, "These are the things that a girl has to do to keep her man around, and you girls WILL become good at lovemaking."
"Wait," I said, "We are still genetic males. We are not supposed to become gay and like guys in THAT way." Then I realised just what a sissy little black girl I was in my leotard and white tights. Suddenly the thought of cuddling with a guy and giving him a hand-job didn't seem so bad.
"For the next six months, you all are female, and you will be attracted to men. Tonight, I will show you how to keep a man aroused with oral and digital sex and keep your men pleased. The hormones you are taking will change you into total boy-crazy babes." She described to us the female orgasm and how we as women had to use our hips and vaginal muscles in sex. We had to let the guy dominate us. She told us how we had to be coquettish with boys and "not give the game away" when we flirted, and we had to make let them make the first move or else we would come off as slutty. She went into detail about how to let the guy take charge during heavy petting but that we would probably have to help him unhook our bra straps.
Fiona reached into a black duffle bag and pulled out a few items for us to experiment with. She had a couple long black hot-dog shaped objects and a couple more that were attatched to wooden platforms. She explained to us that these were didlos and we woud use these to practice our technique. She let us check out some female conodoms and diaphragms and explained to us how we had to use these during sex to keep safe.
First the three of us guys practiced putting condoms on the dildos, which wasn't too difficult. It felt weird practicing stuff like this. I thought my little brother was a little young to be doing this kind of advanced stuff but I didn't want to question Fiona.
"All of the nerves and nerve endings are on the underside of the male penis," Fiona explained to us. "When you are pleasuring your man, you need to concentrate on stroking or licking the underside."
She had each of us grab a dildo and she first had us rib them agianst our white tights. Fiona showed us the right way to stroke and had us mimic. She explained to us how to nibble on the edges of the dildo to give our guys extra stimulation. We eagerly took mental notes, eating everything up. I couldn't really imagine having to do this stuff with an actual guy, and him treating me like a lady and opening doors for me.
It was so crazy watching my dad have to put the black dildo into his mouth. I wanted to stop him and slap him out of it. I realized that we had been brainwashed. I thought back to when my dad was working on his car or cutting the grass, and now he was doing all of this girly stuff.
With Fiona supervising, we got to play with the dildos for about an hour until Fiona told us that we had had quite enough fun. Fiona sat down with us and told us how, after the challenge was over, we would be taken to a secure location for our tans to wear off and we could readjust as males. We would get counseling that would help us return to our old lives.
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On Tuesday, dad came home from his job at Hooters. He looked really hot in his little orange shorts and pantyhose. He described to us how the guys were burning holes in the back of his shorts and one guy had even slapped his butt. We listened excitedly as he told us how he had plenty of practice with flirting and acting female, and by now, his voice was in a regular female registrar, so he had no trouble passing off perfectly as Monique Washington. He came home with 400$ dollars in tips plus his regular wage, which was twice what he had made working as a car salesman.
Earlier, I had snuck into dad's room and tried on one of his Hooter's outfits. I pretended like I was one of the sexy girls there serving chicken wings and beer to horny guys. I wished that I was 18 so I could do that and make lots of money.
I was busily perusing my copies of "Cosmo", "Dance", "Ebony", and "Black Woman". Dad was glad to see that I had been quick and eager to learn about being female. I know it hurt him to see the pride of his loins looking and acting like a luscious African princess but it was just our lot in life.
Before ballet class, Fiona called a family meeting and told us that on Friday evening we would be attending a debutante ball and the three of us would wear fancy gowns and introduce ourselves to society. It was up to us if we would bring male dates or not.
I had gone back up to my room and had stripped down to my bra and panties and was ready to put on my tights and my little brother came in and asked me if he could look through my leotards for one he might like to wear. After 10 days, his voice was that of a real black girl and I found that I wasn't having to try anymore to sound feminine. I told my little bro to go and pick one out he liked and I would help him dress and do his hair. I had decided to wear a baby pink leotard with an attached short skirt. I had just pulled on my tights when I heard a knock at the door. It was dad.
I was holding my leotard in my hands when dad came in dressed in his dance outfit, a yellow tank leotard and white tights. He said to me, "Do you girls need any help dressing."
"No mommy," I'm fine, I said to him.
"Is everything all right," he asked me. "Its just that Fiona has kept me so busy with cooking and cleaning and laundry that I haven't really had a chance to see how you girls are handling these changes." As he was talking to me I pulled on my leotard.
"Well daddy," I said, "I'm coping just fine, but this is just so odd."
"Its the 21st century," said dad, "We guys have to learn to accept a female role."
"Its not that," I said and I started to cry, "Its about me. I don't know if i want to be a girl."
My brother had pulled on a pink and white leotard he had found and was coming over. Instinctively, like a girl, he saw that I was upset and gave me a hug. I hugged him back and dad put his arms around the both of us.
"Its just that I don't think I can go back to being a white boy, not after all this."
"The counselors will help us adjust," said dad. "Once we get out of here and take off our tights and get back into boxer shorts, We'll forget all of this ever happened. But for now, we are black girls full-time. Its just like playing a part in a movie." Dad kissed me on my forehead.
I felt a little better. As long as I kept my eyes on the prize I would be fine. For now, I just had to cope. My dad took my hand and led me into my closet to see which gown I might want to wear. I had my eyes on a purple prom gown with sequins. My dad said I would probably have to wear some sheer tights under it.
Soon, Fiona knocked on our door and told us that we were going to be late for class so we grabbed our dance bags with our spare tights and hustled off to the minivan.
All of the other black girls finally seemed to feel more secure at ballet class and really began to open up. The girls/guys looked so adorable in their dance clothes. Leticia, Keisha, and Chondra were the three older black girls and Trisha and Tiffany were the two younger black girls who had been boys so recently. Trisha and Tiffany, with Kendra, made such a cute trio in the little girls class. Kendra had paired up with Trisha to master the song and dance routine and so recently these girls had been playing Pee-Wee baseball. It was cute watching Amanda move their bodies.
So myself and Krystal had really started to mix with the older boys/girls and we found we had alot in common. Thier coaches were really tough on them to learn how to be girls and they had all been put in baby girl dresses and had to play with dolls, like I had. Soon, at least, we would progress to being "big girls," and we could at least have some respect. We all had to work on crossing our legs and smoothing our skirts and keeping or modesty. In the back of our heads was the thought that soon we would be on stage in tutus dancing sleeping beauty and soon we would be modeling bikinis in a pagent. But all of us were far too busy with dancing and learning how to be girls to even think about being boys. I had still made some inroads introducing myself to some of the white girls in ballet class, but I soon found out that they all had boyfriends already.
I had made arrangements earlier to go and hang out at Krystal's house after ballet. Krystal's parents came to pick her up and I got in their car and we drove to their house. I let Krystal play with my hair and she spent some time putting some barettes into my massive "do." We put on some soul music and we chatted about cheerleading, dance, and some of the hot guys at school.
We spent the rest of the afternoon playing dress-up. I took of my pink leotard and white tights and I slipped into a little black dress with sheer pantyhose that Krystal had. We spent a couple hours posing in the mirror in various outfits of hers. I tried on a velvet green dress of hers with black tights, and then I think I tried on every leotard, panty, bra, and bikini she had. As a boy, it felt erotic getting to put on tights worn by an actual girl that I knew had caressed Krystal's legs just today at dance. We put on our cheer outfits and rehearsed our moves. This was much more fun than throwing a ball back and forth. Sadly, such a fun night had to come to an end and I had to go home and do homework. Fiona gave me a petticure and gave our family a brief talk about the virtues of domestic womanhood. She gave us each a book to read, "The Domestic Goddess." and she told us that we had to live to that ideal.
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The day after, Fiona took us to the mall to pick out some more clothes and outfits we might like to wear.
Dad found a dress that was like the one Michelle Obama wore on election night and he said that he couldn't wait to wear it at the debutante mall. He had been obsessed with Michelle Obama recently and he he had been telling us how she was his hero. This from a guy who had been a loyal Republican his whole life!
Dad and I had to go use the girls room and we went into use the bathroom. I went in the stall and pulled down my tights and panties and sat down, even though I only had to go pee. After me and my dad were done, we both went to the mirror to "freshen up" We touched up our makeupa and lipstick and we made sure our hair was still perfect. We were really enjoying this mother/daughter bonding, both of us in skirts and hose, out shopping for makeup and dresses. My dad made a point to reassure me how pretty I looked, and I couldn't have been happier.
That night we spent a couple hours playing "House", with Fiona playing the role of dad with Monique as the doting housewife and mother.
TO BE Continued
