It is not a pleasant thing when one is suddenly out of the frying pan and into the fire. When one has a secret it shouldn't be brought home; especialy when it is a secret that will condemn your fate.

I owe Angela Rasch a hearty Kudo's for aiding and abetting me by editing my story. Its such a delight to have her edit and read her critiques. I've gotten better as a writer of fiction.

“Revenge is a confession of pain.”

A Bitter Wife
By Jill Micayla.

“What the….” He sat straight up from the nasty business he had been conducting with his best friend. Damning semen spilled from the corners of his lipsticked mouth. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I took a picture of the two of you,” I said with as little rancor as I could manage, showing him my cell phone. “I think it’ll speak volumes in divorce court. I hope that isn’t my make-up you have on . . . and that lingerie you’re wearing better not be mine.”

Kyle just sat on the edge of our bed looking miserable.

What can he say? He’s dressed in a bra and panties, wearing full makeup, and has been in a compromising position with another male. He knows it’s over. I have a picture and he has to know I’ve already sent it to my e-mail account.

Even though his face shows vicious rage he can’t get up to roughhouse me. He has nothing to say; he’s been caught.

He stood, and then went to the bathroom -- by the sound of it he relieved himself, and then washed his hands. Then to my surprise and consternation I heard other noises that suggested he was reapplying his cosmetics.

He came out of the bathroom, and then went to his closet. He opened the door and removed a pinstriped skirt and jacket as well as a white blouse. Sitting on the edge of the bed he pulled up his pantyhose, and then donned the skirt, blouse, and jacket.

“I’m already doomed,” he said with resignation. He smiled down at his friend who was still curled on the bed sporting a stunned expression. Kyle bent over and kissed his sexual partner, and then walked out of the room and our house.

I had been busy taking pictures with my cell phone, remaining silent as I watched my husband dress in female attire, kiss his partner in sex, and then walk away. His complacency only added to my ire.

***

I had my firm -- where I was a fast-rising attorney -- file the divorce papers, along with the pictures, as evidence of my husband’s gross infidelity. Kyle’s lawyer, after reviewing the pictures, declared a no contest.

Kyle had also been on the fast track in his law firm, but upon news of the circumstances of his divorce getting out to his boss . . . an intolerant, old money creep . . . they let Kyle go. They said Kyle had been turning in an unsatisfactory performance, but everyone knew it was due to the pictures. Kyle, showing good sense for once, didn’t challenge the charges. The firm had a set of rules for each attorney to follow and any serious error in judgment called for dismissal.

It’s possible I’ll be the one paying alimony, even though he caused the divorce.

Having sent the furniture to the landfill, I then donned white paper coveralls and rubber gloves to move all of the clothing into the backyard where I doused it with kerosene and cremated it in memory of a marriage gone woefully bad. Searching in the yellow pages under “pest eradication” I found an exterminator to fumigate the house. To even think that a germ from my husband could survive made my skin crawl.

***

Even though I hated the thought of my husband as I had last seen him, I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

Catching him in bed with his friend had brought things to light for me. I understood that his after hours working might not have really been due diligence -- or at the office.

I requested all of the receipts from the credit card companies. . .bills Kyle had paid without me seeing them. I wanted to see what evidence he’d left behind. I would make Kyle reimburse me for what he had spent from our household account for his romance. To my surprise there was no paper trail. Not one cent was indicative of any monkey business.

Perhaps what I saw was a one time thing?

I had unresolved questions that needed answering. I went to the bar where I knew he had found work as a table server.

The pink nametag introduced “her” as Kylie. She was dressed in a tight, neon-pink outfit that fit like a swimsuit. He wore black, fishnet stockings and heels. His hair and make-up appeared flawless. He looked like he had been born a female and had the walk down to a nice wiggle.

The sneer never left his painted face as I tried to have a civilized conversation with him.

“Are things all right with you?” I asked. I was prepared to offer him money to help him get back on his feet. I opened my purse and took out my checkbook to indicate my goodwill.

“Do you really care?” he asked, doing his best to sound like a lady. “Or, are you here to laugh at me.” His lip curled. “Put your money away. You’re so naíve. I love being patted on the butt. And, most nights I make more by doing business with my lips under a table than I ever made as a ‘mouthpiece’.” He giggled strangely. “Some nights I spend in a hotel room earning the big dollars. I just signed on to be an escort, so I can quit waiting tables.”

I drove home sobbing. As much as I’d done to ensure Kyle was no longer part of my memory I still had a pain in my heart and questions I needed answered. Why did he lie to me? He had put up such a masculine front that I had fallen head-over-heels for him. What was it about me that excited him? Certainly I was the wrong sex to make him happy?

I shook my head. “What I had done wasn’t revenge, it was what I had to do to end a sham of a marriage.” I had loved Kyle. Why hadn’t he loved me? Had it hurt him when I elected to keep my last name — for professional reasons?

***

I had been waiting on the porch . . . smoking a cigarette and lost in thought. Kyle and I had had our differences, but I had never thought that such a handsome sort of a guy who would rather dress as woman and have sex with another man.

The house sat empty behind me when the realtor came to get the keys. He apparently had no idea of the complete past history of the house. Nor did he probably care. For him it was going to be money in his pocket.

“Ms. Ketterling, I’m surprised to see you here,” he stated with surprise.

“Well, I had the locks changed recently, and I wanted to ensure you had the right keys.”

“You needn’t have done that; we only needed your keys and your ex’s.”

“To be honest I really don’t trust him, so I had the locks changed. He might want to do damage to the house . . . so it won’t sell.”

He nodded, and then looked at me gravely. “You do know this is a buyer’s market, it may not sell for what it is really worth?”

So it starts. “Any amount received will be a fair amount as this house was part of the divorce settlement, my ex inherited it from his grandmother. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see he lost it and cannot use it for his own evil ways.”

“Sounds like a bit of animosity; are you sure you want to sell it?”

“I’d really like to burn it down to the ground and make it a safe park for children, but there are laws against arson.”

The realtor smiled. He had a potential buyer willing to pay whatever the asking price, which would be determined by a crooked appraiser due to arrive shortly.

The “asking price” would put a few grand in each of their pockets.

While I entertained the realtor, two private detectives were going through the books and paperwork of the appraiser for several other similar deals. Two other detectives from the police department were awaiting the results so they could get a warrant and make the arrests.

Through friends that were estate attorneys I had learned Kyle and his lover from the day I’d caught them together were partners in crime in ripping off potential sellers. More people were involved and would be arrested for conspiracy.

I smiled at the offensive jokes the realtor told. I knew that within the hour he would be among the sixteen indicted for fraud and money laundering. Kyle doesn’t know he’s going to be in bigger trouble than our divorce.

My cell phone rang; it was one of the detectives. “You can head home as we’ll be picking up Kyle and your realtor.”

***

Why do I feel so bad? He’s brought it all on himself. Yet . . . I feel responsible.

My crying continued as I turned into my condo parking lot. I stopped my car in its assigned parking place and turned off the engine. I sat crying and questioning how I hadn’t even seen a clue as to what was going on.

A tap on my window startled me.

“Ms. Ketterling, I’ve got some bad news. Your ex elected to commit suicide by cop.”

“What? What happened?” I suddenly felt empty; my questions would never be answered.

How could he choose a way out of life like that? Kyle Crumpton wasn’t a coward and wouldn’t have chosen a coward’s way out. But then again, he did deceive me in our marriage.

I sat with a hollow feeling and eventually fell asleep with my head on the steering wheel.

***

When I woke I shivered. My ex-husband’s dead because he chose to be killed. His lover’s in jail.

I still want answers. I got out of my car and headed to my condo. Maybe I missed something when we were dating? I began to assume guilt -- that I was to blame. Had the sex not been good enough? Had I not paid a lot of attention to Kyle? Was I too demanding as a wife, or had I been very dominant?

I ran to the bedroom screaming, fell onto the bed, and bawled. I eventually shook my head and made no sound. Had I really loved Kyle? Had the pictures I had taken sent him over the edge? More questions -- less answers, I told myself. This is turning into one big quandary. Why can’t I just leave it alone?

The doorbell rang; I looked through my peephole and saw it was Kyle’s father. I opened the door, saw the flash, and then it all went dark.

***

I came to in the hospital . . . groggy and not totally aware.

“Glad to see you decided to stay with us.”

The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“It’s me, Detective Grant. I called you about the arrest we were making. I’m here with my partner to ask if you know who shot you?”

“It was Darren Crumpton, Kyle’s father. What are you going to do?”

“We already have him in custody. Well -- it looks like a Crumpton will be going to prison, because of this housing scheme, but not as an accessory, but as a man who tried to commit murder.”

***

My late husband’s law firm represented my ex-father-in-law. I sat on the prosecutor’s side and watched as the trial took place.

I testified about the shooting and was blind-sided when they blamed me for my ex-spouses alternative lifestyle. I was asked why I made him dress as a female and have sex with men.

The prosecutor objected. “Your honor, this is an outrage. Ms. Ketterling isn’t on trial here; she’s the victim of an angry man who tried to kill her.”

“Mr. Burr you’re correct. Mr. Moss if you stray again I will find you in contempt of court and your client will be without an attorney. Ms. Ketterling is the victim, anything before the shooting isn’t relevant. Do you understand?”

“Yes your honor.”

“The jury will dismiss the last question and it will be stricken from the court records. Mr. Moss, you may continue.”

“I have nothing else, your honor.”

During a break, Kyle’s sister approached me. “I’d like to talk to you about Kyle.”

“Is this going to be a conversation in which I’m going to be the bitch?”

“No, it’s not. I think you should know my dad knew about Kyle long before Kyle met you. He told Kyle to find a wife or Kyle would be out of the will. That’s when you suddenly appeared.”

“So the family knew Kyle was gay and cross-dressed?”

“They did; in fact mom encouraged him to be as girly as possible. Dad wasn’t concerned until Kyle got into the law firm Dad used. Then he began to tell Kyle to give up on his girly ways and find a wife. It was Dad who showed Kyle a picture of you.”

“Why did he pick me?”

“You were an up and coming attorney. You were winning your cases and Dad figured if you and Kyle were married you would never go public about Kyle’s bad, girly habits for fear of ruining your own career.”

“Why would Kyle allow your dad to tell him what to do?”

“Kyle always listened to Dad. He had an unnatural fear of him. I really believe that Dad had sex with him on more than a few occasions.”

“That’s sick.” I closed my eyes.

“Well when Kyle suddenly had been divorced by you Dad was furious. When he died . . . that very day . . . Dad wanted revenge on you.”

“Have you talked to the prosecutor?”

“I tried, but Dad’s lawyers said they would discredit me.”

“Talk to the prosecutor and tell them everything . . . including the threat to discredit you. Why are you telling me this?”

“Kyle was like a sister to me. As we grew up he made sure I was always a girly girl — like him. Dad used to beat me for being near Kyle. I cared for my brother and I worried when Dad gave him the ultimatum. If you recall, I wasn’t at the wedding. I had threatened to stand up -- to tell people why the two of you shouldn’t be married.”

“I think things would’ve been different had you told me what you knew before the wedding. There probably would’ve been a wedding, but we wouldn’t be outside a trial right now . . . and Kyle would most likely be alive. Go speak to the prosecutor -- now.”

I sat on the bench in front to the courthouse and cried . . . not from bitterness . . . but from relief that I hadn’t been responsible for Kyle’s lifestyle.

The End

This is my first story in a while, It came to me while I was playing free cell. Kathleen is a pre-op TS who is very strong in her being. she likes dating guys and is upfront with them about who she is. She meets Ted and things begin to change.

My Boyfriend and I are the Same
Jill Micayla

Valentine’s Day a time in my life which I share my birthday with the rest of the world and I was lost in the reverie. As a youngster where I live people made a big deal out of being born on Valentine’s Day as I grew older and into adult hood it bothered me being called a valentines Baby.

When I decided that I was going to live as a woman the thought of Valentine’s Day being something special to me went away.
I was in my mid-thirties working as a vice president of traffic for a major corporation. I have my own secretary and one of my co-workers another vice president decided he wanted to get to know me.
I had no real problem with that as I’ve dated off and on for a while. The romance usually broke up when my lover wanted to have children and not adopt.

Ted was mindful of me in that he sent flowers to me to get my attention. I agreed to go out with him only because he was so persistent. I had let HR know I was a pre-operative transsexual. I was waiting for my therapist and Psychiatrist to write the letter for me to have surgery.
My therapist had been willing for almost two years the psychiatrist was doing his best to blame my wanting to have surgery on my parents. I was an only child. I knew when I was a youngster that my gender was wrong.

My dad was a he-man. He was also homophobic so I couldn’t talk to him. My mom was a volunteer for almost every charity she had heard of. She told me unless it was a near death issue she shouldn’t be bothered.
She had me help collect clothes for the needy. It was when we were sorting them I began to accumulate a wardrobe. Mom paid me for helping her and I in turn found ways to buy things a girl would need.

By my senior year in high school I could go out in public and no one knew who I was. I became Kathleen Carpenter. I got involved in after school projects as Kathleen. I went to my senior prom in a beautiful pink satin and chiffon gown. I went with a boy who only knew me as Kathleen.

My next door neighbor had seen me come and go as a girl. She became a close friend and offered to help me become a better young lady. One of her friends had a son and she introduced him to me while I was dressed as Kathleen.
When he asked me to the prom I talked to MS Jolene. I told her I wanted to go but was afraid the by taking me would meet my father and all hell would break loose. She offered her home so I could be picked up.
My mother and father chose that week end to go away. I’m sure my father would have keeled over with a heart attack had he seen how I was dressed.

After that date I knew I did not want to live as a boy. I went to a private college where we were watched closely so my being a girl had to wait. Once I had my MBA I was soon hired by my present employer.
It was then I presented Kathleen to my mother and father. In less time than it took to get ready I was asked, not really asked, told to leave and never return.

I’ve never regretted my actions. I hear from MS Jolene that they are still doing their things and not mindful of those around them. I visit with her whenever I get a chance.

The date with Ted was wonderful. He took me out for dinner, to a theater and to a nightclub. I let him hold me but did not let him do anything else. I did the same with my other dates. I felt if they wanted to get to know me then it was a sequence of steps to do so.
On the third date is when I usually told them I was not equipped for male to female sex. If they stayed then we proceeded as any other couple would.

Ted was so attentive of me. I did my close scan of him and noticed he had remnants of mascara on his eye lids. There also seemed to be a slight aroma of perfume. I would observe closely on the second date.

At work he told others we were dating, my close co-workers knew we had only been on one date.

“Kathleen, you know Ted is infatuated with you?”

“Oh yes, it seems he is smitten with love for me.”
“How do you feel about him?”

“It was only one date, it’s not like we already had sex. You know how I am?”

“Are you going to go out with him again?”

“I usually don’t plan on a second date, but if he asks me I’ll think it over. I do want to get to know him better.”

I truly wanted to see if there was a secret about him. Mascara alone didn’t raise red flags but with the aroma of perfume there was a question.

By midweek there was Ted asking me out for all of Saturday. I really didn’t have any plans so I agreed to go but we had to dress casual. We agreed we would go to the city zoo and then to a café for a light lunch and perhaps drive to the beach and watch the sunset.

He was at my apartment early Saturday morning I decided to wear a strapless sun dress black with a yellow sun. I put on my sketchers and brushed my hair. I was casual.

When we walked to the car I noticed the shirt and slacks had a feminine cut to them. I also in the bright sunlight could see the mascara, some tinges of eye shadow and again the aroma of perfume. In the car I could see he had both ears pierced and a slight tint of nail polish on his well-manicured nails.

It was at the zoo my curiosity got the best of me.

“Are you gay?”

“No I’m not gay. Why do you ask?”

“To be honest, I see tint of nail polish on your nails, a bit of mascara on you lashes, you have an aroma of perfume about you and you have our ears pierced but have nothing in the holes. The other thing is you clothes have a feminine cut to them. Most guys don’t go out dressed as you do. Don’t get me wrong if you are gay its okay by me. Whatever you are into doesn’t matter to me.”

He stood there as if I had just ruined his day. I asked and he replied then I gave my synopsis. I didn’t mean any harm. If he was gay it made no difference to me maybe he was suing me to hide his being gay. If he was into dressing as a woman it didn’t bother me.

“Well, let me explain I could lie and keep you with me or I can tell the truth and most likely have to avoid you at work. I like dressing as a woman and having sex with men. I’m afraid of women and I thought by dating you I could get over my desires.”

“It’s okay; I’ll be your friend. I see nothing wrong with what you are doing. There are guys who do what you do but never get out of a dress. I’d like to see you as your feminine self maybe I can offer some tips for you to even be prettier.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would you need people to accept you. If it’s your heart’s desire to dress to attract men then go for it. Tell people you are gay if you feel gay. I don’t know if you realize gay guys don’t go for effeminate males in dresses."

I suggested we head to his house, get him all dolled up and then continue our day out as just two girls having a good time.

When I saw his closet with all of the different dresses and such I wondered where he kept his suits.

“What name do you use when you are being yourself?”

“I like Yvette. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

“I’m okay with it, let get Yvette out of her closet.”

Once she was done dressing and applying make-up I knew this girl meant business. I was very taken aback. I’ve seen her with guys out on dates. I would never have guessed she was a he. Her demeanor was that of a real female. Her walk, her talk, and even the expressions she used. If I wasn’t so into guys I would have made out with her in her apartment.

She was dressed casual and more at ease then when she was dressed as a guy.

“Why don’t you just live your life as a woman? Masculinity is against your true nature. You could have any guy you wanted and he would be crazy to let you go. Quit trying to date girls to hide who you are."

“This is the first time I’ve let a coworker know I have a female body. I’m so glad I took them out of being wrapped.”

“Come to work on Monday as Yvette. Let the others know you are man hungry. I’m sure there are some guys who would take you out and pay for everything.”

‘I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“My parents wouldn’t understand.”

“I think they would understand they have a beautiful daughter.”

“I’m there only child and my dad wanted a boy.”

“Sometimes dads have to understand that their son is probably happier being a girl. What about your mom?”

“She paid for the implants. When dad wasn’t home I lived as a girl. Mom even let me date she picked my boyfriends.”

“So mom is aware and I really think your dad won’t be upset.”

“You do know that Valentine’s Day is right around the corner and showing your mom and dad how beautiful their daughter is would be a good Valentine’s Day present.”

As we chatted I wanted to tell her about me.

“I would like to be your friend, someone to share with and do things with. Maybe even be close friends."

That night after she dropped me off I decided to be open with her. We could be good friends and double date. Maybe we could even develop a relationship with intimacy. I was suddenly very interested in Yvette.

Valentine’s Day arrived I had arranged to be with Yvette when she visited her parents to let them know their daughter really loved and cared for them.

I chose a red satin dress with cap sleeves, red nylons with a seam, red pumps and I had my hair done special. I had picked out a Valentine’s card to give to her and a matching diamond ring to secure our relationship.

Yvette did not know about me, we had decided to share an apartment with her thinking I was truly a female. She smiled at me when she saw me. I told her needed to talk before we left to see her mom and dad.

I got on my knee and presented the ring.

“Yvette, I can really say I truly love you. When we first met I didn’t know you. Now that we are friends I want to take our friendship to a new level, Yvette will you be my soul mate? I am just like you in every sense .My heart pines for you and my body desires to mingle with your body. Will you say yes to be with just me?”

“You aren’t a girl? You know what I mean.”

“I’m just like you.”
I lifted my dress and through the red lace panties she saw my manhood.

“Kathleen, I will be your soul mate and lover.”

The changing of the Bully
Jill Micayla

School bullying has dire consequences; however one school was tired of boys who bullied or treated girls wrongly.
Roger Brooke was a boy who had a lesson to learn.

The Changing of The Bully
Jill Micayla

Janet Baker looked at her new class she was not surprised to see there were no girls in this class of twenty four students. As she called each student’s name she noticed an asterisk. Once roll call was over she stood and went to the front of her desk.
“Class I know I called your name for roll call, now I would like to hear from each of you why you are in my class.”
Janet Baker taught feminine deportment class as well as English. She had seen the note about the asterisk. Noting each boy had either said something derogatory about a female student or had made unwanted advances towards them.
Her job was to get the boys to understand why their behavior was unacceptable in a school setting.
The last boy to speak was Roger Brooke, he was insistent that girls were to be dominated and they were never to be trusted. Roger was in the class for punching out one of the cheerleaders.

“Thank each of you for sharing. Since this is an English class I have a writing assignment that will require extensive research as well as involved participation. As you know if you drop out of this class you will be expelled from school…”

“What if we don’t want to be here now?” Roger Brooke snarled.

“Well Mr. Brooke, let me first address your rude behavior I was talking and you interrupted. If you don’t want to be here you can leave any time you want. So Mr. Brooke are you going to remain in class or become another statistic about people expelled from school?”

“I gotta be here, my old man told me if I quit I was going to be going to a military academy.”

“So you’ve been volunteered? Then it will do you well to not interrupt and to change your demeanor.”

She saw the dejected look on his face as he slunk into his chair.

Our first project in writing will be not just an essay but an essay on how something feels. I want at least five paragraphs on what it is like to wear a bra and how to be fitted for one.

She saw the blank looks on the student’s faces.

“This means you will go to a store and ask to be measured for a bra then purchase five bras and wear and wear a different bra each day for one week. Then the following Monday you will turn in your paper. I will be checking to see if you are wearing a bra each day.”

She walked back to her desk and sat down. “Is there any one here who now wants to drop out of the class?”

Twelve hands went up immediately one of them was Roger Brooke.

“Mr. Brooke you cannot leave this class so put your hand down. The rest of you may proceed to the principal’s office. I will tell you now that most of you will return within the hour.”

One of the boys who had not raised his hand asked if the bras had to be white or could they be of different colors. He seemed content when he was told there was no requirement except it had to be a bra.

This was the last class of the day for the boys. When they were dismissed two boys remained behind Terry Moular and Barry Martin.

“Yes boys what is it?”

Terry spoke first. “Is it okay if I wear a girls blouse over the bra as I know my boy’s shirts would look odd over a bra?”

“You may if you want, but the challenge is how does it feel to wear a bra?”

Barry was smiling when he asked his question. “Is it alright to just dress as a girl with make-up and hair styled?”

“Boys, I have a feeling that for the two of you this is going to be an exercise in futility. Do you both cross dress at home?”
Each boy shook his head yes.

“This class was designed to teach boys what girls experience each day and having someone degrading them to make them seem worthless. It is also for the bully to experience total femininity so he will quit bullying. I don’t understand why the two of you are in this class?”

“Miss Baker the two of us were caught in the girl’s locker room after school going through the lockers. We were afraid to explain that the two of us enjoy being girls.”

“Terry and Barry I would like the two of you to go through this class as designed. I don’t think some of the other boys could handle both of you coming to class as girls. By mid semester each boy will be coming to school as a girl.”

The two boys left and Janet sat down at her desk. She wondered how many of the boys were more interested in being dressed as a girl.

She went through her pamphlet the Principal had devised and began to read why each boy was in the class. When she finished she had noted that the boys who left the class were the bullying type and opted to be expelled instead of going through the class.

Roger Brooke was the only boy who had physically attacked a girl. According to the write up he was here by court order.

Janet remembered when they approached her and asked her if she would be willing to teach a special class. The parents of each boy had been approached. The school districts attorneys were involved so the class would not be attacked as a severe punishment.

The class would teach deportment, hair styling, cosmetics, and the end result would be a boy who respected girls. Janet saw it differently, she saw twelve boys being prepared to become girls full time after class was over.

Roger arrived home, met at the door by his mother. Each parent was given a synopsis of what the class entailed and what each boy had to write about. They also knew the boys would be writing about how they felt about different articles of clothing and that their sons would be looking like real girls by the end of the first semester.

“Are you ready to go shopping? Or would you rather I fix your hair so it looks more like a girls?”

Roger looked at his mother.

“I know you despise what is taking place, but you chose to punch Wendy Farr in the face. You are being taught how it is to be a girl. All of the parents who have a boy in class agreed to the class. You are there by court order so you may as well accept your fate.”

“I’m a boy and boys don’t get fitted for bras. What are my friends going to think?”

“You should have asked yourself that question before you punched Wendy.”

“But I’m going to look stupid wearing a bra.”

“I think we should get some very pretty and lacey bras, you may find that wearing a bra is healthier than just to show off a girl’s bosom.”
“I’d rather go to juvenile hall.”

“The judge didn’t think so. Your dad isn’t pleased with where you are now, but he is not going to let you drop out of the class. Maybe when this is all over you might want to remain as a girl?”

“That’s stupid, why would I want to be a girl?”

“Well it is up to you, but I believe by the end of the first semester you will want to continue with your feminization and go to school next year as one of the girls.”

Mom hugged her son.

“Let’s go to Victoria’s Secret we can get bra and panty sets. I think you will enjoy the experience.”

“Can we do something about my hair, I don’t want to be seen trying on bras and people gawking.”

“Okay go to my bedroom and we’ll make sure no one sees a boy trying on bras.”

Roger walked into Victoria’s Secret in a pink A-line dress. His hair was styled to make him look very feminine.

Roger was not a tall boy; he was shorter than most boys and looked younger than fifteen.

A clerk approached them and his mother explained her daughter was just beginning to develop and that she would need at least ten new bra and panty sets. She would also need to be properly fitted for a bra.

The three of them went to the back by the dressing rooms. The associate asked Roger to take off his dress and slip so he could be properly measured.
“She will need some inserts for her bras so as she develops the change won’t be noticed.” Mrs. Brooke spoke to the girl.

Soon Roger was trying on Bras to ensure the measurements were correct. His mother chose a pink lacy bra with matching panties for him to wear under the dress. Once the sales transaction was complete mother and daughter headed to the medical center.

They were there to see Mrs. Brookes OB/GYN. Roger sat quietly while his mother and doctor talked out of his hearing range.

“I want my child to be put on female hormones so she will develop in the bosom.”

Roger was called to the back where several vials of blood were taken. He was told to return the next day and he would receive vitamins.

On the way home his mother asked him if he were a girl what his girls name would be. He was taken aback a bit and then from now where he said Debra.

“Well Debra, you look like a Debra and not a Roger. I think it’s a cute name for such a cute girl.”

“Debra had forgotten he was wearing a bra. For some reason it was not uncomfortable and it added a shape to the dress he had on...

Debra was a bit confused he had not fought being put into a dress. He was beginning to like how comfortable the dress felt. It was better than wearing pants; his legs weren’t sweating like they usually did.

“Is it okay if I stay in the dress? I don’t know why but it feels like I should be in a dress.”

Debra went to her room and turned on her computer. She was researching about boys who wanted to be girls.

Debra switched over to word and began writing about how to be fit for a bra and how it was not uncomfortable because it fit properly. She could not understand how her not wanting to be in a dress or any sort of girls attires was now okay with her to be in a dress.

Debra asked to get her nails done and her eyebrows shaped. She was reading things on the computer trying to figure out why suddenly she liked being a girl.

Debra suddenly felt depressed, she had punched a girl. Tears were flowing down her face and then she lay on the bed with her face on the pillow. Her remorse for what she did made her feel guilt. She was sobbing and wanted to apologize to Wendy.

The court order was for her to remain at least 100 yards from Wendy and no contact. How was she going to apologize?

School was going better; Roger looked forward to Miss Baker’s class. Janet Baker saw the change immediately. The bad bully was now the demure sissy. Janet saw his brows were shaped as well as his nails. She did notice the pink studs in his ears.

Roger was taking his vitamins daily by the end of the semester he felt the itching in his small mounds that had been developing.

“Miss Baker, I am not coming back next semester. Well that’s not true. I will be back but not as Roger but as Debra. I don’t mind being a girl. I still have to apologize to Wendy can you arrange it so we can be in the principal’s office together before I become Debra permanently.

The next day Roger sat in the outer office, waiting to be called in. He had seen Wendy and her parents enter before he did. He also noticed two men he had never seen before.

Finally he was called in to the office.

“Roger, Miss Baker told me you asked for this meeting.”

“Yes sir I did. I want to apologize to Wendy for my inappropriate actions towards her.”

“You are not being coerced or threatened are you?”

“No sir. Can it be just me, Wendy and Mr. and Mrs. Buchner?”

“We can do that, gentlemen let’s go to the outer office.”

Once the men were out Roger looked at Wendy and tears began to flow down his face.

“I had no right to hit you. I was very wrong. I’ve had a long time to think about what I did and I’ve cried myself to sleep many nights. I have thought about why I did it and have no reasonable reason as to why I attacked you. I have come to believe it was out of jealousy. I have learned that I want to be a girl and you already are. I was jealous of you and how nice your clothes were and how friendly people were to you. I really do apologize for what I did. I apologize to your parents for putting them through all of this.”

Roger was sobbing

“If you do not accept my apology I can understand why. I want to be friends with you. Next semester I will be coming to school as Debra and I am going to need a close friend.”

“I do accept you apology Roger, or should I say Debra? I can see how it has hurt you as much as me. I would like to be your friend; can I meet Debra tonight at my house for dinner? Mom, Dad is it okay with you?”

Wendy’s parents hugged Roger and also accepted his apology.

“You do know we still have a restraining order.” Said Mr. Buchner.

“Oh Sam, the restraining order is against Roger Brooke no Debra Brooke.”

“You’re right dear. Wendy we’d be delighted to meet your new friend Debra.

The next night Debra arrived at the Buchner’s for dinner. After dinner the two girls cleaned up the table and did the dishes. They then went up to Wendy’s room.

“Debra, there is something I have to tell you. You’re not the only boy who likes being a girl.

I originally wrote this for storysite and decided to amend some errors. The original Story changed immensely and is told from a different point of view other than first person

Two boys discover they are more alike but never had let the other know. One boy is model of feminine attire the other boy just enjoys dressing as a girl and unsure of herself when she begins to find her friend very attractive.

The Model and the Cross Dresser
Jill Micayla

Hal went over to visit his friend Jimmy. Jimmy had called and told Hal his parents were out of the house and that maybe they could hang out together and play on the X-box. Hal said it sounded good but he would be over with in a half hour

Hal hung up and went to his bedroom there he removed the dress he had on. He took of the necklace and earrings, decided the panties and hose could stay and then put on a pair of slacks and a polo shirt.

Hal had asked Jimmy id his sister Sister Elaine was there. Jimmy told Hal she would be out of town for the next two weeks. Hal and Elaine were good friends when Jimmy was away for modeling appointments. She and Hal would do things together including her introducing Hal to being a part time girl.

Hal arrived at Jimmies and saw the picture window curtain open and close, He thought it strange coming from his best friend. He tried the door knob and the front door opened and so he walked in. As he began to turn towards the hallway to the bedrooms he thought he saw a glimpse of a familiar dress behind the door.

He was stunned to see his friend Jimmy in the dress standing there smiling.

“I’ve been wanting and waiting to tell you for a while that I model dresses at designers requests. I hope you aren’t upset?”

“I’m okay with it. As long as it makes you happy and you do look very confident as a girl.”

“I wasn’t sure how you would take my news most people thing I am gay and usually want ot beat me up.”

“I for one don’t think you are gay and I promise not to beat you up.”

“There is a part of me that likes boys when I am dressed like a girl.”

“Again whatever makes you happy I’m not a guy who likes other guys, but I will still be your friend because we always have been. I think you look very nice, I know I’ve seen your picture on several magazines.”

“You mean you are not upset?”

“Should I be?”

“Well no, but how many of your friends like wearing dresses?”

“Several that I know of, but then again they are girls.”

“I meant how many boys do you know?”

“You are my first guy friend that has told me he likes dressing like a girl.”

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like?

Hal was lost for a moment. How was he going to answer that question without revealing that He and Jimmies sister had been out several times as two girls.
I’m an only child so I guess I never had an opportunity to think about it or take any action in doing it.”
Hal was hoping Jimmy would accept his reasoning.

“My sister was responsible for me liking to dress like a girl. When we were smaller we used to dress as twins and do ads for a local dress shop. They called me Jaime when I was in a dress. I liked the attention and soon had a chance to model girls outfits for money.”

“You don’t mind being a girl?”

“When I am dressed like a girl, I walk and talk like a girl and I will hold hands with boys. I have kissed several boys but never have had sex with one.”

“So you don’t know if you are gay?”

“I don’t think I am. I was told I was born with both sexes and that apparently my parents chose the wrong sex for me. I see boys as an attraction for me but I try to stay away as two boys together has to make somebody gay.”

“I don’t think so; if you should have been a girl then you are a girl with girl’s feelings. Liking boys is natural for you. I really don’t believe you are gay. To be honest I think you are very pretty. If I didn’t know you were a boy I would date you.
”
Let’s make a bet, if you win at our playing on the X-box, I’ll change back to boys clothes; however if you lose You have to let me dress you completely as a girl.”

Hal knew he was good on the X-box and would have no problem winning.

“It’s a deal if I win you’ll be a boy for the rest of the day. If I lose I’ll be joining you as a girl.”

When they sat on the bed to play Hal could smell Jaime’s perfume and the thought of being a girl along with Jaime was beginning to work on him. Maybe if he made it look like he was having a problem then he would let Jaime dress him as a girl.

Hal lost all three games they played. He no longer wanted to be a boy but wanted to be just like Jaime. He liked being a girl, Elaine had taught him so much, but how was he going to explain the hose and the panties if Jaime was going to help him become a girl.
Hal knew one way but wasn’t sure if it would work. He himself had never been with a boy little lone with a boy in a dress. Now he was thinking of how nice it could be.

“Jaime I have to be honest. Since you were honest with me it’s my turn. I am right now wearing panties and panty hose. I didn’t know about Jaime until today. I do cross dress as much as I can, but I don’t know how I feel about boys or even boys like you.”

“Do you have a girl’s name?

“Helen, I am called Helen by those who know me was a girl.”

“Well Helen go to my sisters room and pick out an outfit to wear and then I can fix your hair and help you with make-up.”

Hal looked at his watch declaring he needed to be home and told Jaime she was very nice looking and before he could get to the door she came to him and put her arms around him and they kissed. Hal wasn’t repulsed by the kiss but rather thoroughly enjoyed it and then they French kissed and Hal knew that he was going to have a hard time as a boy in a dress was turning him on.

Hal arrived home still in a bit of a daze, he had just kissed his best friend and liked it. He had never kissed a girl, but Jaime didn’t look like a boy or even smell like a boy. Hal wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

His mom was due home any minute and Hal knew that this being a Saturday she would want to take her daughter out to dinner. Mom had been making Hal dress as a girl when she saw him and Elaine leaving Elaine’s house. Hal’s mom wasn’t totally sure it was her son until she saw Hal at home and he was still wearing mascara and eye shadow.

Hal went up to his room and opened his closet. His closet was divided one side to his masculine clothes the other to his feminine wardrobe.

“Helen, I am home. We have an hour before we meet a friend of mine and her daughter for dinner at the Shamrock. Wear something nice so her daughter will not suspect you of being a boy.”

Hal wasn’t sure what was going on, his mother never took her and Helen out to dine with anyone else. He needed to talk to his mom about the day. He was looking forward to a day with Jaime again. He liked Jaime as a girl and shuddered when he knew she was a boy. He had never had feeling for a girl or a boy and now he was thinking of a girl who was a boy.

Hal was soon dressed, make up was done correctly and the dress he wore was an A-line with a scooped neck. The dress had a tiny pink jacket that matched the dress. He sat in the living room waiting for his mom to come out of her bedroom.

“You look like you are upset, please tell me what it is and maybe I can help you remedy the situatiion

"Oh mom, I feel confused, I discovered I like kissing boys and I am so ashamed that I do."

"And how did you discover that kissing a boy was pleasant for you?"

"I went over to Jimmy's and he was dressed like a girl, I did not react and before I left to come home he came over and put his arms around me and kissed me."

Hal was sobbing; "I didn’t expect the kiss from him but when our lips touched I wanted it to keep going, mom! I French kissed my best friend."

"What did Jimmy do?"

“He acted just as though it was a very natural thing to do. I tingled when he kissed me and I want to kiss him again, but I was scared so I hurried home.”

"Don't you think you owe him an apology for just walking away, and it is about time he let you know that he make a living modeling girls clothes for a catalog?"

She smiled at Hal. "Sweetie if he kissed you and did not react when you began to kiss him back he is probably doing what you are doing right now, trying to figure out how he is going to tell you he was turned by you."

"Maybe I should invite him over and let him see me as Helen and go for a walk to tell him I really like her.”

“You can do that after dinner. We need to get going so we won’t lose our reservations.”
Mom drove quietly as they headed out to dinner, she was usually very chatty but this time she remained quiet. When she pulled into the parking lot and Hal saw Jaime and his mom entering The Shamrock.

“Are the people we are meeting Jaime and his mom?”

“Yes they are, don’t be uncomfortable you already said you liked kissing Jaime and now he gets to meet Helen.”

Hal and his mother entered the Shamrock and headed to their table. Helen saw Jaime staring at her as though he was trying to figure out who Helen was.
Mom introduced Helen to Jaime and her mother. The four sat down the mothers next to each other and the daughters nest to each other.

“I hadn’t planned on seeing you again today. I cannot describe our encounter before I left to go home. Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.

Jaime said that when he kissed Hal he felt different from when he kissed other boys and that he was trying to figure out why Hal was so different. I told him that was probably because everything he does is centered around being a girl. He reminded Hal that he and Elaine were close. He asked how Hal was going to
explain to her about his dressing like a girl and enjoys kissing other boys. I told him she already knew. That she was the one who introduced me to femininity.

The waiter took their orders, and it was quite around the table. When the food came the four chit chatted about the two boys presenting themselves as daughters.

Hals mother told Jaime’s mother that the two girls had become more than just friends.

When dinner was over the four of them went to Hals house for more conversation. Helen and Jaime want to take a walk.

“You do look nice in a dress, I think you could do some modeling.”

“Think for the time being we need to define our relationship. Are we two boys or two girls? I enjoyed the kiss today, but I have never kissed another boy before. I didn’t know how much I was going to like it.”

“I took a chance kissing you but when our lips met I could feel you calm down. I think from now on we just dress as girls. I think you are very cute Helen. My sister did a good job on making you a girl.”

“Can we have a date where you are the boy, I want to experience the things a girl experiences on her first date with a boy.”

“You’re willing to be a girl for me, I can’t wait to tell Elaine how well she did with feminizing you.”

“She had a willing subject, besides she told me that I should have been a model.”

“I can see that, but first we have to have a boy girl date. I’ll pick you up on Friday. Dress casual if you would like, a sun dress would look good on you.”
They embraced again this time Helen was ready for he passionate kiss, what she wasn’t ready for is when Jaime puller her into him with his hands on her butt

Helen was in her room redecorating. She was removing the things that said the room was a boys and was replacing them with definite feminine items. She saw her mom peeking in.

“Do you think I can go to school as a girl? I guess I should wait a while to make sure I can withstand being a girl full time.”

"I agree with you on the wait. I think things are going too fast for you and although you for the moment feel like you want to be a girl forever. It’s not just the clothes and a boyfriend. As a girl you have to really take care of yourself. Let’s take it slow and if I think you should progress a little faster I’ll let you know.”

“I do feel like I am in love with Jimmy, when we kiss I get all tingly and want more.”

“Just take your time. If it is meant to be it will happen if not then there is another who may take you farther into the path of womanhood.”

When Jamie is on the road Helen writes to him daily. She and Elaine spend more time together with Elaine teaching Helen all about being female.

Helen spent a day crying because she was confused. She was very adept at being a teenage girl. She sometimes missed being a boy until she would see a group of boys roughhousing. Then she was glad she had chosen to be a girl.

The Pawn

Like a chess game the pawn becomes valuable when the queen falls and other pieces fall after her. A small boy, innocent and mistreated. A dad who loves his son and those around them that have their own opinions.

I'd like to thank Jill M. I. for editing this story for me. Read and enjoy.

The Pawn
JIll Micayla

My life is not what I thought it should be.

I was a small boy in a small town.

My dad worked three jobs just to put food on our table. My dad wasn’t the brightest star in the sky. He had a learning disability that kept him in mediocre jobs. However, he was one of the most loveable people I knew. If I make a mistake he admonishes me with words and lets me know I did wrong and when he did that I felt sorrow inside for what I had done.

It was just me and my dad when things went really bad. Mom was in jail for child abuse and attempted bank robbery and the murder of a bank guard. Suddenly the chief of police was found with a bullet in his head and a note with misspelled words.

The police began to blame my dad saying he had tried to make retribution for my mom being in jail. Dad may have had a learning disability but this was one time when it was in the background. We left town on a freight train after midnight. Dad said that they would be looking for the two of us, but he had a plan.

“Son, when we get off the train we are going to hitchhike to a place where no one will know us and even our pictures on the news will not be looking like us.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“I got it worked out in my head. They will be looking for a man and his son, but not a woman and her little girl.”

He had it figured out I was going to be putting on dresses and so was he. I really thought my dad had finally lost the last living brain cell in his mind. To me my dad’s learning disability meant that he didn’t always think right and it seemed like this was one of those times.

“I can’t be a girl, I don’t know nothing bout being a girl. What will people think of me?”

“Nothin', girls don’t get looked at until the go through puberty.”

I knew what puberty was, but for me it meant a growth spurt, muscles and playing sports. I just couldn’t imagine myself suddenly becoming a muscular boy while trying to live as a girl. I was going to be in a world of hurt.

We got off the train in Mitchem, a fairly large town in the middle of nowhere. It was still dark when we approached a house.

“My friend Missy lives here, she’s gonna get us taken care of.”

The door opened a woman called out. “Sam is that you and your son?”

Dad hurried to the door. “Missy it’s me and the boy. We are here to be changed by you.”

“Oh he’s so cute; he’s going to be adorable as a girl.”

She never even said hello, she just automatically decides I’m going to be a cute girl. How did she know? I’ve never been in girls’ clothes before.

We hurried in and closed the door.

“You two take a bath and a shower. I’ll get rid of your clothes, and then my sister and her niece will be here.”

Another woman and her daughter are coming here; oh no she’s going to think I am a weirdo for letting them dress me in girls’ clothes.

The look on my face must have said it all.

“Oh sweetie, it’ll be okay. You and your daddy are going to be my sister and my niece.”

Dad showered while I bathed in the master bedroom.

I was soon joined by Missy who immediately began to wash my hair. “It’s important for a girls’ hair to be shiny and well taken care of. After you are in your nightgown I’ll teach you how to brush your hair so it will maintain a nice shine.”

A nightgown -- and brushing my hair. I’m a boy, or so they told me I was.

“Ashley is a nice name for a boy but as a girl it will fit you perfectly, but I will probably call you ‘princess’ because you look so regal.”

I went from boy to princess, all of this just from taking a bath with girls soap and shampoo. What’s in this water?

I was soon dried off and powdered. Then came a pair of pink panties with a bow in front. I had to admit they felt better than the holey tighty-whities I used to wear. The nightgown was also pink. At first I wasn’t sure if I was going to let her put me into it, but after it slid down over my body and I shivered I didn’t want her to take me out of it.

What’s wrong with me? I like being in a girls’ nightgown.

We sat and dried my hair and then Missy showed me how to brush it. She said the camel hair brush was mine and was to be used only when I brushed my hair each night -- one hundred times.

I liked the attention I was getting and when dad walked into the room in a woman’s nightgown I heard Missy gasp.

“Sam you are just as beautiful as when we first met.”

This isn’t the first time dad’s been dressed as a woman. What’s going on that I should know about?

“Ashley, this fine woman is my cousin Melissa, when I was a boy we would play dress up together.”

“Well we played it because your granddad used to call your dad a lazy, sissy boy.”

“Why would a dad do that?”

“Your grandpa, my uncle wasn’t sure why your dad was so slow-thinking. People used to call it ‘laziness’. Your dad was made fun of and left home so he wouldn’t mess up the fieldwork.”

“Dad, your dad called you a sissy?”

“He sure did, but your dad didn’t know what a sissy was. So I took it on myself to show him. Well he liked it so much we spent every summer being girl cousins when no one was around. Then when we got out of school your dad went to a school that helped him and he got a good education. But his reputation as a boy kept him from getting the good jobs. Your grandpa died and the money and farm were split up. That’s when you dad hired an attorney to ensure he got his fair share of the property.”

“Well I did have to give a third of it to the attorney, but it gave me enough to buy the house we just left.”

“So how are you going to prove you’re innocent?” she asked.

“Well I did hear Karen’s brother talking about shooting the chief of Police. He said something about ‘the dummy will take the fall’.”

It’s funny hearing Mom being called ‘Karen”.

“Do you know who Karen’s brother was talking to?”

“It was my brother, Hank.”

“I talked to the chief and told him what was being planned. He said he would make it look like he was murdered and then I could leave town so they could get Albert and Hank for conspiracy. He said it would make me look like I was guilty and the two would most like volunteer to hunt me down.”

“But the chief really was killed, so no one knows that there was a conspiracy. So how are you going to get Albert and Hank?”

“You know I may be learning disabled, but I ain’t stupid. I also contacted the FBI about the conspiracy.”

“So why are you hiding?”

“I was told to keep low until the trial starts, they were going to arrest Hank and Albert, but they think that there are a few more involved.”

“What about Karen? Did you know she was going to rob the bank?”

“Had I knowed she would never have gotten out to do it.”

There was a knock on the door. Dad and I headed to the bedroom while Missy went to answer it.

Missy opened the door and there stood my other uncle.

“Hey, Missy, has the dummy been here? He skipped town and they arrested Albert and Hank. I know for a fact he killed the cop ‘cause his wife was locked up.”

“You’d say that about your own brother?”

“Hell, he’s dumber than a box of rocks; he don’t know any better. Has he been here?”

“No one here, but me and a friend and her daughter. Wanna come and meet em?”

“Nah! I gotta find the dummy before he kills someone else.”

It got quiet after the door closed.

“Sam,” Melissa said hurriedly, “you need to call the FBI and ask them to investigate your two brothers. I think they were in on the robbery and the killing. I get the feeling they’re trying to set you up.”

“I’m going to leave for a few days, take care of Ashley. I’m not going to call I am going to visit the FBI office and tell them what I heard and have them search the house for evidence of the plans for a bank robbery.”

“When did you get so darn smart?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your brothers may think you’re a dummy, but are they in for a big surprise.”

I woke up in the morning knowing this was going to be my first full day as a girl. I was looking forward to it. I was going to be able to walk places and not have to hear bad things about my dad. I really didn’t want my aunt to know I wanted to be a girl, or at least for the moment.

What if I like being a girl? Can I live like a girl? I don’t think I could take guys pawing all over me, but girls went through that as they grew up and they learned how to stop it. I think if a guy touched me right now I’d scream.

We were in a dress shop when I saw a beautiful yellow dress with a satin ribbon and bow. “Aunt Missy, can I try on that yellow dress?”

“If you want to, I don’t want you to unless you really want to.”

“I really want to, I want to try it on and if it fits -- buy it for myself.”

“Oh and where did you get all this money for a fancy dress?”

“I don’t have any, but I truly do love that dress.”

Missy knelt down to me. “Is there something I should know before I say yes?”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember a boy who came to my house and never had been in girls’ clothes.”

“I don’t think he is coming back. I think he has flown the coop.”

“We’ll get the dress if you want it, but you have to promise me that the little boy you know will not be back for a long time.”

“How long are you talking about?”

“It depends on how much my new niece likes her girly ways. Remember clothes do not make the girl.”

If I had known being a girl was this exciting I would have tried be a girl sooner. I knew I had a lot to learn. I learned that when we arrived at a house later for deportment classes. I liked the way I was taught to sit and move. The teacher said that I was very natural as a girl and fine tuning would make me more feminine.

When we got home I got on the computer with my aunt. She brought some things up for me to read. She told me that most boys just don’t take to being in girls’ clothes. I told her that I had been afraid until the nightgown went on.

“Maybe we can get some medical test done while your dad is away? If I’m correct, I know why your mom was abusive towards you.”

I certainly was not upset about suddenly being in dresses and girls’ clothing. To me it felt as though I was supposed to be a girl. I was actually feeling very comfortable in my new identity. Ashley the girl; I liked the sound of that.

“Ashley it’s time to get ready for bed.”

***

Sam managed to ride another freight train to another major city. It was there he made his way to the FBI office. He saw the time and hoped someone was still there.

He entered the office and asked to see Agent Kline. He was told to sit and the agent would be with him shortly.

“Hello Mr. Curtis,” a man said coming out to meet him, “Glad to meet you. Chief Richardson briefed me two days before he was killed. He said you had let him know there was a conspiracy. We did a handwriting analysis of the note compared it to your handwriting and found it to not be your writing. You’re no longer a suspect.”

“Thank you. I want to offer up my house to be searched to see who was with my wife in the bank robbery. I think things are all tied together.”

“We’re ahead of you. Your house has been sealed and we have a team going through it as we speak. We’re also going through the other two suspect’s houses.”

“What do I do?”

“Go back to where you were safe. Pay attention to the news and newspapers. We’ll let you know when it is clear.”

“I think my other brother is involved also. He came looking for me blaming me for shooting the chief of police.”

“We’ll look into it. I’m sure it has some relevance. Do you have any idea of what this may be about?”

“Well I did get an attorney to ensure the will of my dad’s was properly executed. I was told I would pay dearly for doing what I did.”
***

Sam Curtis started back to his son, but never got off the freight train in Mitchem. His body was found when the train reached its final destination.

***

“Ashley, you look sweet. Your dad would have been proud of you. Be as still as possible at the funeral so no one will know who you are. Your uncle Frank was arrested last night so he will not be here.”

At the funeral home it was just me and Missy for an hour so I could say goodbye to my dad. I cried and fussed. I missed him already and I was going to grow up without him or my mom.

The crowd came in as Missy and I sat in the back so we would not be noticed. A lot of people who knew my dad came in to pay their last respects. There a short disturbance as the police escorted my mom in so she could say “goodbye”.

Mom was smiling as though she had gotten something over on Dad. She spoke over Dad’s body, loud enough for me to hear. “You stupid son of a bitch, you got what you deserved. Sure hope they killed the kid before they killed you, that ‘s the way it was supposed to go down.”

She was escorted out.

She wanted me dead? So much hate. I saw my real mom just like she was when she was in the house with Dad and me.

We did not go out to the cemetery. The FBI came to talk to me at the funeral home. There was another conspirator and he or she was still at large.

“It could be my mom’s friend Eileen, she usually came over while I was tied to the bed and the two would have sex in front of me.”

“What is this Eileen’s last name?”

“If you look in my bedroom you’ll find an ID card of hers. I hid it in a shoe in my closet.”

“Was she at the funeral?”

“No, she hated my dad, she always told my mom he was worthless and useless and they needed to get rid of him.”

Missy grabbed me and held me as I bawled until all I could do was gasp for air. “Sweetie, you will never be put through that again. Your dad loved you and you can take that to the bank.”

My aunt would spend her spare time writing letters. I don’t know who she was writing to, but each day they went out to the mailbox.

Finally I decided to be nosey and asked if I could drop the letter to the post box.

The letter was to a Samantha Curtis in Indianapolis. Dad’s name was Sam, but he would never let them call him Samantha. I remembered the address and that night I wrote to Samantha telling her how my dad was named Sam and how he had been murdered by his two brothers and a brother-in-law. I told her how there was another conspirator and that hopefully the law would find her before she found me.

I did not know that I was inviting disaster when I dropped that letter into the mailbox.

Three days later I heard a car pull into the driveway. I saw Aunt Missy suddenly jump up and head to the door.

“You kept him here, he’s not dead? We’ve been looking all over for him and you have him here?”

I heard the gunshot and headed toward the back door. Luckily I was out and well hidden when I saw Eileen with a gun in her hand slowly looking around.

“Little boy, come out and I won’t kill you. You’re worth lots of money to me now. Come out little pawn.”

I remained silent and stayed where I was until well after dark. I then made my way back into the house called 911 and reported my dead aunt. I gathered some money and a light coat and headed away from the house.

I had the FBI agent’s card and called his cell phone number. I told him who I was and that my aunt was part of the problem and that the other lady had killed her. I gave him the address in Indianapolis and said she was probably heading back there.

He wanted to know where I was. I told him I was going to go someplace safe and then call and have the FBI come and get me. I hung up and walked toward the train station.
The tears in my eyes were from the disaster that had left me homeless and without anyone to care for me. In a matter of a year I had lost my dad, my mom and my relatives. I knew that someplace there would be a haven for a child like me.

I couldn’t wait any longer so I placed another call.

“FBI Office, Chicago, how may I help you?”

“My name is Ashley Curtis. I am at the corner of fifth and Jabbip. I want to talk to Agent Parsons.”

The End

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Author's Note: I would like to acknowledge Elrod for editing and getting me on the right track with this story. His suggestions and help took what was a normal story and stepped it up a notch for me. Any inconsistencies are mine and only because I may have missed a comment Elrod made in editing. ~Jill
 

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I was invited to a Valentine’s Day party by one of the girls in the neighborhood. The invitation had arrived in the mail while I was in school and my mother had opened it. I’m sure she smiled when she saw that each invitee was to wear a pink party dress and have their hair done and nails done. My Mom had a go0d sense of humor.

With a name that could be a girl’s, I was often mistaken for a girl. Leslie Rene Culbertson was my full name and at age fifteen I was very small for a boy. I was barely five feet two inches tall and if I weighed one hundred pounds I would had to be soaking wet. I was involved in the local community theater and had played the part of a girl several times. I was no stranger to being in a dress. it was when I was dressed as a girl I felt most comfortable. I couldn’t tell my mom or dad though.

Dad was a macho man he believed every male should be rough and tough. By the time I was six he had given up on me. He would refer to me as his sissy child. I had heard it enough that I began to think about just wearing girls clothes to rile him up. I was becoming what my dad disliked. My thought was a way to annoy him for calling me a sissy child, but slowly, I began to understand how nice it was to be a girl. I decided to self medicate.

My mom had been taking hormone pills, which she stored in the bathroom medicine cabinet I liked to read and when I was on the computer, I discovered that two of her pills could keep me from going through puberty as a boy. Since age ten, I had been sneaking pills from her supply. Mom kept refilling her prescriptions as she would take one or two pills every other week and I would take them on an every other day period. I don’t know if she noticed her meds were going quickly but she never said anything to me.

Now at fifteen I had the soft melodic voice I grew up with, an no facial hair or chest hair. My breasts were just starting to become noticeable.

“You’ve got an invitation to Rebecca Stones Valentine’s party. I don’t know if you want to go or not.
There is a dress code, and it’s a girls only party.” Mom explained to me while handing me the invitation.

“Great! Mrs. Stone thinks I’m a girl.” I did my best to not show my excitement to wear a dress and be seen in public.

“You certainly look and sound like one.” Mom retorted.

“Please don’t make fun of me.” I said, sounding as though I had been hurt. I couldn’t tell if she was serious,or if she was mocking me.

“I’m not making fun of you I’m stating a fact. From the looks of things I’m sure by now the hormones you have been taking have worked very well,” she said with a knowing smile.

I stood there with my mouth wide open, and I couldn’t move.

“I realized you were sneaking them. It didn’t take long to figure out what you were up to. I take a pill every other week and so they should have lasted a lot longer than they were. I didn’t want to discourage you, so when you last saw Doctor Phelps, he did a liver test on you. He continued my prescription so you could help yourself.”

I shook my head , trying to comprehend that she’d known all along, and actually helped me.

“Your dad doesn’t know about the hormones. He will not be returning from his trip. I’ve filed for divorce and separation. We were talking about it after your first performance as a girl in the community theater.

I didn’t know what to say. I began to sniffle, mom noticed and came to me and hugged me assuring me it would be okay.

I think we need to go shopping it’s time for my daughter Leslie to make her appearance. We’ll get you a nice pink party dress, get your ears pierced, and get your hair permed. Since you will be starring as Laura Wingate in the Glass Menagerie we’ll let you start being a girl so it will be more realistic on stage.”

I was stunned by how much Mom was supporting me. I had wanted to tell her that I didn’t like being a boy, and yet she knew all along.

“Can I get rid of my boy’s clothes?” I practically begged her I really don’t want to wear them anymore?”

“Why don’t we do better than that? We can get you an entire new wardrobe, redo your bedroom and get furniture for a girl?

“Where is the money coming from? I don’t think dad would want to spend money for me to be a girl.”

“Your dad isn’t going to know, I’m using money that I inherited from my aunt Lucille. Her one wish was that I had a daughter to spoil, and you, my girl, are now that young daughter.”

It seemed like it took forever for Saturday to come, but finally, off mom and I went to Prostonof’s women’s store. It was a very good store, which included a spa, hair salon, and everything a woman might need. A woman escorted me to a changing room so I could be given the spa treatment. Waxing wasn’t bad as I feared, since had no real hair to rip off. I was measured from head to toe, for my bust, waist and hips. I then wrapped myself in a silk robe and was taken to the salon to get my nails and hair done. My ears were pierced, and my eye brows were waxed, arched, and shaped. I had highlights put in my hair and then it was coifed in a style so that no one could mistake me for a boy.

Being fitted for a bra was something I didn’t know women did. I was soon wearing a perfectly fitted bra, and it felt wonderful cradling my budding breasts.
I was taken to a clean, almost sterile room that reminded me of an operating room. The woman there did some things to me that, when finished gave me the look of a vagina.

“You can be naked in front of a thousand girls and they wouldn’t know you were a boy,” She reassured me with a warm smile. She was very proud of her work, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with my genitalia now reconfigured.

I was measured for panties, shoes, dresses and skirts. When we left the department store, it was as mother and daughter. I was wearing a mid-calf faux leather coat under it was a pink jumper with a pink blouse. I could barely contain my delight at my transformation.

We headed to the community theater so I could meet the rest of the cast of the upcoming play a boy from my school, Peter Dorn, had the part of Jim O’Conner. I really liked him, and he, in, turn seemed impressed by me. To him I was a girl and he was reacting like a boy in heat. He asked to talk to me quietly.

He knew that Leslie Culbertson was a boy. So I figured he was going to tell me that he was uncomfortable with me being a boy, and that we couldn’t ever have any romance.

“I would have never thought you could be so beautiful,” he said, sounding like he was a bit love struck. “I expected you to look like a boy in a dress. Can I ask you out to see a movie tonight?” He seemed a bit embarrassed at asking me for a date.

“You mean you like me as I am?”

He vigorously nodded his head yes.

“You do know that under all of the feminine attire is a boy. I’d love to go to the movies with you, if you still want to go knowing that. So is this a date or just two people going to a Movie together?”

“To be honest,” he confessed sheepishly. “I wasn’t happy with a boy being chosen to play Laura, but you’re too pretty for me to even think of you as a boy.”

“I can be very much a girl, if that’s what you want.”

“Okay I’ll be by at six to pick you up for the movie. ”He sounded like he had just hit the lottery.”

“My mom can drive us if you’d like?”

“That would be great. I’ll See you at six.”

I walked back to my mom, practically beaming. “I have a movie date with Peter tonight. Can you drive us to the theater?”

“A boy asked you out? She sounded suddenly very concerned. “We need to have a talk when we get home, but yes, I’ll take the two of you to a theater.”

Once we got home, Mom and I sat in the living room. We discussed the birds and bees from the girl’s perspective. I hadn’t even thought about kissing, let alone cuddling or going further. She reminded me that my breasts were real, and most likely, sensitive to touch. The part she was concerned with was the rampaging hormones of a teenage girl with a teen age boy.

I was only expecting a movie, but according to Mom some boys use that as an excuse to make out, fondle a girl’s breasts and sometimes, explore and even further.
Peter arrived at six I was still wearing the same outfit that I had been wearing earlier. Mom drove us to see “Titanic” Once we were seated I began to experience what other girls did when Peters arm went around my neck and his hand straight to my breast.

If I said it bothered me I would be lying. It felt nice and I notice my nipples were erect. I was getting tingly from just his touch on one of my breasts. When his had touched my other breast, I felt like I was beginning to lose control. I turned my head and to my surprise and delight, he kissed me. IT wasn’t just a peck, but a long, warm, passionate French kiss.

I did my best to watch the movie but making out with Peter was far more interesting. I never let him put his hand under my dress, but his hands on my inner thigh drove me wild. I wanted more than a kiss. It was then I asked him to stop.

“If we continue this we are going to go someplace I don’t think either of us wants to go.

Peter let up and tried to apologize. I let him know I was just as guilty and pleased. We just held hands until the movie ended.

“My mom is going to be out tomorrow. Why don’t you come over and we can rehearse?”

“Sounds good to me; I really enjoyed tonight.” He answered with a hint of anticipation in his voice.

“To be honest so did I.” I said as I felt my checks redden as I blushed.

“Do you want to go to the school dance next week?” His voiced sounded hesitant, as if he were afraid I might reject him.

“I think I do, but your hands have to behave themselves.”

Mom picked us up and we didn’t Say much more. We dropped Peter off at his house and then headed home.

“Did you behave yourself?” Mom asked as she drove away from Peters.

“Now I really know I don’t ever want to be a boy again. Oh, Mom he’s so dreamy,” I purred.

“We’ll talk at home, and I do mean talk.” She sounded as though there were concerns.

Once we were in the house I told mom everything. I told her that I really felt like a real girl and how I felt when his hands touching me.. I wanted to have a boyfriend. If Peter would ask, I’d say yes to be his girlfriend in a heartbeat.

Morning came, and Mom left for her Sunday get together with other cancer survivors.. Peter arrived about an hour later. Needless to say, our plans of rehearsal were delayed as we made out on the couch. The make out session got a little heavier and clothes came off.

Whatever was happening felt very natural, even when I got on my knees and performed oral sex on him. I felt a compelling need to please him. I gave my body to him and he made me feel wonderful.

The rest of the day could have gone on the same way except that Mom returned as her get together had been cancelled. Peter and I were caught on the couch naked, and making out.

The language my mom used startled both of us. We were told to get dressed and then sit on the couch. Mom called Peter’s Mom and she arrived about fifteen minutes later.

The conversation was awkward. We were sternly reminded that we were both boys. Somehow though, I wasn’t even thinking about that.

“I know we went too far, and both of us are to blame,” I said meekly. To be honest, I really loved what we were doing. I felt like I was a fully grown woman. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment at what I was admitting. “I care for Peter, and if he’s willing to make out with me, then it’s not two boys, but two people who care about each other. Until today I didn’t know what sex was, but I enjoyed it - especially as a girl.”

Peter nodded, obviously embarrassed, but feeling a need to defend our actions.“I agree with Leslie, we aren’t two boys. No boy looks like a girl as much as Leslie. I like her, and I want to date her. We aren’t gay. We’re just two people in love. She’s more girl than some girls I know. I don’t see her as a boy.”

Parents sometimes be cruel. Peters mom threatened to home school him and get him counseling for being gay. She told me I was just a sissy faggot that seduced her innocent boy.

I ran to my room crying.

“Mrs. Phelps.” I heard my Mom say as I had stopped crying. “You can think what you want and do what you think is necessary, but these two found peace and joy with each other. They didn’t see themselves as two boys, but as a boy and girl.” Mom stopped and took a deep breath “Your son is eighteen,” she stressed his age, “I could have him arrested for sex with a minor.”

“Y-you can’t do that, it was consensual sex and you know it.” Peter’s Mom stammered.

“My daughter can say she was coerced by your son. I’m not going to stop her from seeing your son.” Her voice suddenly sounded compassionate. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want in life. I don’t think your son is gay and my daughter isn’t a sissy faggot. The person who needs therapy is you not your son.”

After that Mrs. Phelps and Peter departed.

Monday in school, no one said anything about me being in the girl’s school uniform. I saw Peter and his mom in the principal’s office. It saddened me that his mother was so narrow-minded.

Peter had been pulled from the community theater. Which was another heartbreak for me. setback I was, after all, just a girl with urges that he met. I missed him very much.

I left school at noon on Valentine’s Day so I could get my hair done and be ready for the party. I was looking forward to an afternoon with girls who would understand how I felt about having to break up with Peter.

“Leslie its’ so nice to see you, aren’t you a living princess?” Missy spoke with her usual cattiness.

No one ever got a polite word from her. She was the Principals daughter.

The other girls knew I was a boy but said nothing when we sat down to eat we talked about boys and one of the girls asked me about Peter.

I told her that my mom had caught us having sex in the house, and that his mom was a real Bitch and showed her true colors. The girls were glad that I had a boyfriend that accepted of me. I began to cry, since he was being kept away from me.

Mindy’s Mom had made reservations for all of us to go out for a formal dinner, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go.

“Look at you, you’re one pretty woman all dressed up and with no one to show off to. Come to dinner with us. At least let others see that nice pink party dress that exposes your bosom. Maybe there will be another boy.”

I was reluctant to go, but since I had gotten all dolled up, I was persuaded to join them for dinner and show off my beauty and my developing bosoms.

It was Kerri’s kind words that I gave into. I did look at her funny when she mentioned my bosom.

We arrived at Chez Maurice and entered. We sat at our table waiting to order. The waiter looked like a hunk, but he wasn’t Peter. The meal was delicious and dessert was rich. The band was playing too. As we sat, guys came over and asked some of the girls to dance. I sat at the table like a wallflower, lamenting that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to dance with the guy I really liked.

I felt the tap on my shoulder and a voice deeply asking me if I wanted to dance. I shook my head no, but then before I knew it, Peter on his knees asking me for forgiveness and apologizing for his mother’s actions.

We danced and kissed and kept dancing.

“Where is you mom?” I asked, confused

“Dad had her committed to a behavioral health center. “ he explained simply.

“What happened?”

“She tried chaining me to my bed. Dad decided it was time for her to be checked out by professionals. She won’t be home except for supervised visitation. Since I’m over 18, she doesn’t have a reason to come home.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“I can start seeing you again. As far as Dad knows you’re a girl, and we can let that be all he knows.”

Suddenly, Valentine’s Day became wonderful.