This is a fantasy story set in the U.K., in a world where there are fewer females being born. Western society has rigid social roles.
Housework is for women etc. Remember this is fantasy.

Please read Part 1 to make sense of Part 2

There is no underage sex is this story.

When the bus arrived all three of us got on and sat on the bench seats at the end of the bus. These seats faced each other. We sat facing Elsie.

“Well then Jan, where are you two off to then?”

I wasn’t used to hearing Nan’s first name. I called her Nan and my mum called her mum.

“We’re going shopping for some food. I need a little extra with my guest staying. After that we are going to look for a few more clothes for Andrea”

“Are you looking forward to it Andrea?”

I did not know what to say. She was expecting me to say I was. I know girls get excited about clothes. The few girls in my class, and even the Fafa were always talking about what clothes they had just bought. It was something women and girls seem to care about. I knew there was no way out of this without one of my brothers suffering. So I put on my best fake smile and said.

“Yes I am Mrs Davis, Nan has been telling me all about what I can wear as a girl”

“You are such a lucky thing, one of the best things about being a girl are the clothes. Well at your age anyway.”

She winked at Nan.

I was not sure what that was all about. Grownups do strange things.

“Anyway Elsie, how is Burt? Is his back still playing up?”

“He’s getting over it now. I told him I should trade him in for a younger model. Plenty of men out there want women these days”

Nan smiled.

"I know you are devoted to each other. Divorce is almost impossible these days anyway. You know how possessive men get over women.".

"Just joking, I would never leave him, he's the love of my life."

“Andrea helped with the washing today. She seemed to like my stockings, so I told he if she was a good girl, I would get her some tights.”

“I remember my first pair of stockings. I thought I was so grown up. They felt heavenly.”

“I think I’m getting tights Mrs Davis “

“Don’t worry dear, they will feel just as good. Nowadays girls wear tights a lot younger. I was sixteen when I got my first pair of stockings”

The bus stopped to let on some passengers. A man sat down next to Mrs Davis, got out a newspaper and started reading.

“So what Else are you going to buy apart from tights then Andrea?”

Nan lent across the gap and lowered her voice.

“She’s going to need a few dresses, skirts, blouses and underwear”

Nan sat back in her seat. Mrs Davis looked her in the eyes, then looked down at my legs.

I looked down to see it there was anything on them. As I looked up, I saw the man staring over his newspaper at my legs.
My Nan quickly pushed my right leg into my left so they were closed. The bus stopped and the man got up, and left looking flustered.
I didn’t know what was happening.

“Dirty old sod”

Said Mrs Davis.

I looked at Nan, to see if I had done something wrong. She lent over and kissed my head.

“Sorry Andrea, I forgot you’re not used to wearing skirts. That man was looking at your knickers. You have to remember to keep your legs closed. Especially when you sit opposite someone. “

I didn’t understand. When I was dressed as a boy no one wanted to see my underpants. It must be because knickers were prettier than pants. That’s why men must want to look at them.

“Don’t worry Andrea, you have a lot to learn, but your Nan is a good teacher. It will be worth it, being a girl is wonderful. And you Andrea are going to be very pretty. You will be beating the boys off with a stick”

I had a vision of myself in a skirt at the top of a hill, hitting boys, as the rushed up to get at me. I sort of knew what Mrs Davis meant though. Again I felt proud she called me pretty.

We got off the bus after saying goodbye to Mrs Davis, and went into the supermarket.

Most of the people that worked there were men. I remember my mum told me women tended to work in shops that sold women’s clothes. She said they are nicer places to work and didn’t get bothered by men all the time. I remember being bored and looking out of the window. Mum was choosing bras.

Out of the blue, the thought stuck me. I would have to do that one day. He had seen the older Fafa’s at school. They had “boobies” like the other girls.

Nan showed me how to choose fruit and vegetables. What to look out for when buying meat. She said we were going to make a casserole later.

We left the super market and headed into the shopping centre. Nan asked me if I needed the loo. I did, but I knew it would mean going into the ladies.

I never forgot I was now a girl. The breeze blowing around my knickers reminded me I was not wearing trousers. I did like the feeling of freedom the dress gave me. The slight tickle of the hem of the skirt part of the dress on my legs felt nice too.

Before we got to the toilet, Nan reminded me to sit down and wipe after I peed. I knew I could just pee standing, but she told me I need to get used it.
In the stall I could hear the noise of ladies peeing. They did not sound like I did when I peed. I looked down at my white knickers down around my ankles. One day I will probably sound the same as they did. It drove it home to me. This was not a game I could stop. This was for real. My life was changing.

We went to a shop called Annabel Fashions. Nan said to the women that she was buying me some new clothes. She never mention about me being Fafa. I was grateful for that.

We looked at rows of dresses, skirts and tops. Nan asked my opinion when she thought something might suit me. After an hour she had me try on several dresses. Some had full sleeves, some had cap sleeves, some had just straps.

I settled for a black, what she called a sheath style dress. A white high waist dress with a two tiered skirt. The last was blue with red flowers, something she called A line. How would I remember all this?

She got me two skirts. A loose one, plain black that went below my knees, and another dark red pleated skirt. There were two blouses, in white and pink, and a few t-shirts.

In the mirror I saw how the different clothes made me look. I looked just like any other girl. I did look pretty. Should I have been born a girl?

Then came the underwear. Nan showed me into the underwear section. I saw a sea of frills and lace. Some of them looked like silky boys shorts. Nan said these were called French knickers. She said I was too young to wear those. I asked about the ones with a what looked like a string at the back. She said they were called thongs, she said no one should wear those. I could not see why anyone would wear string up their bum?

She showed me boy shorts, tanga, brazillian, bikini and lots more. My head span. Why do women need so many different types. I could see lots of different bras too.

I asked Nan and she told me women like to look and feel nice under their clothes. She handed me a pair of white French knickers.

“Feel those”

They felt so soft and smooth. I wondered what it would feel like to wear them.

“We women have such choice in our clothes. It’s fun to choose, even better when you wear something that make you look good”

I was starting to understand I think.

We went to the teenage section. She picked up a packet of day of the week nylon knickers. These were in different colours, and I notice they had a half inch of white lace around the top and leg holes.

“A little more grown up than those cotton ones your mum got you.”

She then picked up a pair of what she called rhumba style. They were pale blue and covered in white and blue lace.

Before you say no, just feel them.”

I ran my fingers over the lace, it tickled. The main part was very smooth and soft. I imagined wearing them. They would feel wonderful against my skin. The lace would surely tickle me as I moved. I would love to try them.

They looked silly though, almost babyish, but no one would see what I was wearing under my dress, would they?

“Yes please Nan”
“You know what Andrea, I think you’ll be just fine.”

Lastly she selected three pairs of tights. One white, one black, and one that looked see through. She called these flesh colour. That didn't make sense. My flesh wasn't that colour I thought.

I couldn’t wait to get back to Nan’s to try my new clothes on.