My name is George. I’m 15 years old. My parents are divorced. I live with my mother and younger sister. I was painfully shy growing up and I didn’t really have any pals to hang out with so, out of desperation, I started tagging along with my sister Fiona who was two years younger than me but much more outgoing. Fiona didn’t mind because that meant she could stay out later being escorted by her big brother.
Fiona liked to meet up with her girlfriends at one of their homes or at the shopping mall. No one else seemed to mind either because I never interfered with their activities. I usually just sat there and listened to them gossip or complain about boyfriends. I liked to imagine I was a sheikh and they were all my harem girls.
Occasionally one of the girls would ask my opinion about something they were talking about, something they were wearing or a boy one of the girls liked. I was always complimentary or sympathetic and I never betrayed a confidence. Then they’d tease me about being the best girlfriend a girl could have. I’d be embarrassed but I craved the attention and so I took the teasing in good humor.
“He’d rather be your boyfriend, Carla” said Fiona. Carla was my sister’s “best friend forever” and we were visiting her home. I felt my ears burning. I did have a crush on Carla but I never said a word to anyone. Carla just nodded and smiled like it was old news to her.
“Is that true, George? Would you like to be my boyfriend?” I smiled and nodded my head. Was it possible?
“I’m afraid I already have a boyfriend, but you can still be my girlfriend. Would you like that?”
“I’m a guy,” I replied. I should have known she was teasing me.
“You make a better girl than some girls I know,” Carla replied.
“Prettier too,” Fiona added and both girls giggled. I suppose that gave Carla ideas because she left the room and came back with a makeup kit. I was apprehensive when I saw a mischievous look in her eyes.
“You’d be even prettier with a little makeup.”
“I’m not going to start wearing makeup.” I started to back away.
“Oh please, George,” Carla begged. “We’ll just try a little lipstick. Okay? It’s nothing permanent.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Pretty please? I’ll give you a big kiss if you let me put some lipstick on you.”
“A kiss?” At that point in my life I would have sold my soul for a kiss from a pretty girl. It was just us three together this time. What could it hurt I reasoned. Carla took my silence as assent. She took a little brush and took a few swipes at some lipstick. She sat down beside me and told me to part my lips and hold still. I obeyed and felt a light touch on my lips from the brush. Carla finished with the brush and had me blot my lips on some tissue. She handed me a mirror.
“Gross,” I exclaimed. It wasn’t really but I was unsettled by how...feminine I looked. I picked up a tissue to wipe it off but Carla grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t you want your kiss, Georgette?” Georgette?
“Then leave the lipstick on, Georgette or I can’t kiss you. I can’t kiss George. That would be cheating on my boyfriend. But I can kiss Georgette all I want. Do you understand, Georgette?” I didn’t really but I nodded my head anyway.
“Good girl,” said Carla and kissed me right on the lips. It wasn’t one of those quick smooches either. It was one of those mouth wide open screen kisses where the orchestral strings come up into a big crescendo. I was in heaven.
“Whoa, Carla!” said Fiona. “I didn’t know you were into other girls.”
“Well, now you know,” Carla replied. I decided right there I could be Georgette and wear lipstick for Carla anytime as long as I could kiss her like this and no one else knew.
“What are you girls doing to that poor boy,” said a voice nearby. Darn! It was Carla’s mother standing in the doorway.
“There’s no boy here right now, Mom. This is Georgette and we’re just sharing a lesbian kiss.”
“I don’t see any Georgette.”
“Show her, Georgette.” I would rather have sunk through the floor and died but I didn’t want to displease Carla so I lifted my head. Carla’s mother, Mrs. Johnson, shook her head and smiled.
“That lipstick shade isn’t your color, honey,” said the woman.
“That’s the only one I could find quickly,” said Carla. “Could you help me maybe improve her looks, Mom? Please?”
“Stand up for me, will you sweetie?” I stood up wondering where this was going. I didn’t want to look more girly than I already was. Mrs. Johnson gave me a once over inspection.
“Clear complexion, small boned, delicate hands. How old are you, baby?”
“That old? I took you for a lot younger.”
“Everyone thinks that.” I’ve always been small for my age and still have that androgynous look of a younger boy. I’m still a long way from shaving and my voice hasn’t deepened even though I’ve reached puberty.
“She still gets invited to children’s birthday parties,” Fiona interjected.
“I do not!” The last time that happened was almost a year ago. I’m hopeful it won’t happen again.
“You have eyelashes most girls would kill for. Yeah, my guess is that you could be turned into a real pretty brunette.”
“Wouldn’t she have to grow out her hair, Mom? Couldn’t she wear a wig?”
“Well, I could do a lot more if she had longer hair, but I think she has enough to work with right now. A decent wig is too expensive. Of course, I won’t do anything that’ll get me in trouble and absolutely nothing against her will. I’m not going to hogtie her.” Darn! I wished they stopped using the feminine pronoun when referring to me. Mrs. Johnson was a partner in a hair salon so I guess she knew how to make women beautiful but I wasn’t a woman.
“I don’t think I want to go any further with this,” I said. I didn’t want to be girlified.
“Oh, please don’t say that, Georgette. We’ll have so much fun. And no one will know outside of this room. I promise.” Carla pressed her boob against my upper arm. She batted her eyelashes and gave me a pleading look with her most winning smile. I knew I was dead meat. Fiona giggled and Mrs. Johnson smirked.
I fell back into my usual silence as Carla, Fiona and Mrs. Johnson discussed how to “improve my looks”. Translate that into making me look more feminine. Doubts began to crowd my mind once again. I was willing to put up with the lipstick because I liked kissing Carla but I wanted to be her boyfriend, not her girlfriend. I decided to excuse myself and leave but not before wiping off that ridiculous lipstick.
Carla must have had mind reading powers because she grabbed my hand before I moved a muscle, guided it onto her lap and held it there. I could feel her thighs! I blushed once again. Would she notice the stiffy I just sprouted? I think she did because she glanced down at my crotch and smiled. I was in this 13 year-old girl’s power once again and she knew it.
Nothing was decided except that I was to let my hair grow out. Summer vacation was coming up and I usually had it cut real short so I wouldn’t have to worry about it until school started up in the fall. I promised to meet everyone at the hair salon the next day after getting assurances they had plenty of male clients and my presence there wouldn’t be seen as unusual. Mrs. Johnson said she’d have some ideas for my new look.
Mrs. Johnson took a picture of me and took my measurements; height and weight as well as chest, waist, hips and a whole bunch of other measurements. She even checked my shoe size.
“Skinny as a rail and as flat as a board,” she said, “but we’ll come up with something.”
I was finally allowed to go the bathroom and remove the lipstick while Carla and Fiona had a brief private conference in her bedroom. Fiona smirked all the way on the walk home but she didn’t say much. By the time we returned home I was once again out from under Carla’s spell. I swore this was the end of this particular adventure even if it meant I wouldn’t be able to kiss or even visit her again.
At dinner Fiona started telling Mom how Carla’s mom had offered me tips on dressing and grooming as well as working with me to improve my self confidence. She made it sound like it was a once in a lifetime opportunity; the greatest thing since popped corn. She was lobbying Mom for her support.
“Why that’s wonderful, George,” said Mom. “I hope you accepted Mrs. Johnson’s kind offer.”
Of course Fiona left out some important facts like Carla’s desire to make me look like a girl. I didn’t want to try and explain that. It would be too embarrassing. So I opted for evasiveness.
“Well, uh...I told her I’d think about it.”
“You did not,” said Fiona. “You said you’d meet with her at the hair salon tomorrow. I heard you.”
“Yeah, but I’ve decided not to, okay?”
“Is there any particular reason, George?”
“Um...I think Carla wants me to be...girly.” I said it. I couldn’t believe how humiliated I felt. I felt my whole face flushing in embarrassment.
“Sophisticated, Mom,” said Fiona. She sounded indignant. “My best friend’s mother wants to teach him a few social graces. That’s all. George thinks the only way to get a girlfriend is to act like a caveman like most of the boys at school. I’m afraid that’s something you can’t pull off, big brother.
“Besides, Mrs. Johnson said she’d be working on some ideas for him and now to find out she’s wasting her time. I’ll just die if I lose my friendship with Carla over this, Mother.”
“Call her up and tell her I changed my mind. Mrs. Johnson probably hasn’t even started.”
“You call her up, you coward. I’m not your private secretary.”
“I have to agree with your sister on this,” Mom said. “No one forced you to make this commitment. You call Mrs. Johnson right now and cancel or you show up at your appointed time and go through with it. You don’t have to continue if you don’t like it. But for the life of me, I don’t know why you don’t want to do it. You’ll probably be spending the entire summer on that computer playing games when you could be learning something useful.”
It would have been so much easier to explain to my mother exactly what happened earlier that afternoon with the lipstick and all. She would’ve understood then. But I didn’t. My sister knew I wouldn’t because she’s right about one thing; I’m a coward. I decided I wasn’t going to call and I wasn’t going to show up either. I mean, what were they going to do, sue me?
As soon as I left the dinner table Fiona asked to talk to me in her room. I figured she wanted to see if she could talk me into cooperating with Carla. It would be a waste of time as far as I was concerned but I went anyway just to find out what she had to say. I had a nasty surprise waiting for me when I walked into her room. My sister’s computer was running and she had a lipsticked image of me on her laptop screen.
“I took some video of you with my phone this afternoon,” said Fiona. “Carla already has a copy of everything. The stills go on Carla’s Facebook page and the video will be posted to Youtube if you don’t cooperate completely with our plans for you.”
“Plans? It...uh doesn’t look that bad,” I countered. It really didn’t.
“No, but you know what people will think anyway. Do you realize how many friends Carla has on her Facebook page?” It was probably a lot. I knew I was a screwed pigeon. I turned around and left.
People tend to show their true colors when they get something on you. Carla’s and Fiona’s true colors were black, black and black. Did I mention the color black? Just as black as their souls. My crush on Carla had been crushed. I barely slept that night. When I did finally doze off I had a horrific nightmare.
In my nightmare I’d been turned into a beautiful maiden with huge boobs. My male genitals had been magically removed and replaced with a pussy. I was wearing a skimpy costume that didn’t hide anything. I was completely vulnerable. Three big ugly men with huge pricks had grabbed me and were raping me. My pussy, mouth and anus were being violated simultaneously. My face and body were covered with cum. Other men were lined up out the door waiting for their turn at me. Carla and Fiona were in the room too. They had video cameras and were faithfully recording the whole scene.
I woke with a shout. I was covered with sweat. My heart was racing and I was gasping like I was out of breath. I finally realized it was just a nightmare and tried to calm down but I swear I still felt the weight of those phantom boobs hanging from my chest. I was sure those rapists were going to grab me again the moment I closed my eyes. I had to stop downloading those Japanese hentai images.
I decided right then and there I wasn’t going to the hair salon. I wasn’t going to let those girls turn me into a girl--complete with boobs and pussy. Let them post that stupid video and those dumb still images. I’d survive the inevitable ridicule...somehow...eventually. Or maybe not. My common sense...or my cowardice started reasserting itself. I sighed in resignation.
Fiona told Mom at breakfast that I’d reconsidered and was going to show up to my appointment. Mom said she was glad for me. I just shrugged my shoulders and didn’t say anything.
I was lucky I didn’t have any exams that day and none of the teachers called on me. My mind was a complete blank except for worrying what the girls were going to do to me once I got to the hair salon.
The junior high school lets out a little earlier than the high school so Carla and Fiona were waiting for me when I got out. They escorted me to the salon where Mrs. Johnson was waiting. She took us back to a private room and sat me down in a swivel chair. There was a large mirror and wash basin with all kinds of bottles, combs, scissors and other barber implements. She showed me pictures of both men and women in what she called unisex styles. They looked okay with either sex.
“Which one do you prefer, honey?” To tell the truth, I didn’t prefer any of them. I wanted to jump out of the chair and run out of there. Taking my usual cowardly stance, I deferred to Carla who chose what I considered the most feminine of the styles. I should have known she would do that.
“Are you sure about this, sweetie? You look kind of nervous.”
“I am nervous, but uh...go ahead.” I really believed I didn’t really have a choice.
In the next hour my hair was shampooed, conditioned, cut, curled, shaped and even tinted with blond highlights. While all this was going on I was getting a manicure and a pedicure. I listened to them talk about hair, nail and skin care nonstop. My eyes glazed over and they knew I wasn’t going to remember all that but Carla and Fiona said they’d make sure I did everything I was told.
I was dreading what would happen next but Mrs. Johnson said she didn’t have the time right now and that we should take things slowly anyway. I had to agree with that. The next step could take place 50 years from now as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t in a hurry. Well, my hair wasn’t the disaster that I feared. It looked pretty good and I felt pretty good.
That didn’t last long. Carla and Fiona took me next door to a piercing parlor and had my ears pierced with starter stud earrings. I wanted to cry.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Carla said. “Lots of guys get their ears pierced these days. Fiona and I will help you take care of them so your ears don’t fall off.” Both girls giggled but I wasn’t amused. I thought Mom would freak when she saw the pierced ears but her only comment was that I looked very handsome.
Fiona called me into her bedroom later that evening and I cringed. I already started to associate my sister’s bedroom with bad news. I wasn’t wrong.
“You’re going to practice applying your own lipstick.”
I was tempted to punch her in the face right then but I knew I couldn’t. She sat me down at her desk. There was a lipstick tube, a hand mirror and a box of tissues. She demonstrated on herself and then had me practicing for the next half hour. I thought I had it down pretty good after about 15 minutes but she insisted I continue.
“You’ll get to the point where you’ll be able apply your lipstick perfectly without even thinking about it.”
“I don’t want to get to that point,” I replied. “Not only do I not want to do it, I don’t want to even think about doing it.”
“That’s not your choice now.” I thought my sister was finished with me but no such luck. She had me applying skin moisturizers all over the place while she checked and cleaned my ear piercings.
“I’ve always wanted a sister and now I have one.”
“I’m not your sister, Fiona. I’m your brother. I wish you and Carla would stop with this B.S. It’s gone too far already.”
“You’ll need to shave your legs. I can give you a razor.” She held up a Lady Bic.
“I’m not going to shave my legs.”
“Yes you will...eventually.” She opened one of her dresser drawers and drew out a pair of panties.
“Here. Wear these tonight.” She thrust them at me and I jumped back like it was a red hot branding iron. That got my sister giggling. I went back to my room. I just hoped I wouldn’t have any more nightmares from this experience.
I’m pretty much a nonentity at my school. No one takes notice of me and it’s something I’d come to accept. So I was really surprised when one of the pretty girls from my algebra class started talking to me.
“I really like what you did with your hair,” she said.
“Uh, thanks,” I replied. I wasn’t sure how to react. I just hoped she wasn’t being sarcastic.
“And pierced ears, huh? Cool!” That was just about the extent of my conversation with her but it was really something for me. We wished each other good luck with our finals and then she was gone. So, I thought, maybe something good can come out of something bad.
Carla and Fiona pretty much left me alone during finals week. I say pretty much but not completely. Fiona still made me take a break from my studying to practice applying lipstick. She also helped me with my hair in the morning. I started using the shampoo and conditioner Mrs. Johnson sent along and also a shower cap she’d given me.
Fiona and I did go over to Carla’s once during the week. Mrs. Johnson was home at the time and she wanted to trim and pluck my eyebrows. I wasn’t enthusiastic.
“A clean eyebrow line isn’t unmasculine, sweetie. It’s a part of good grooming.” I still declined until the girls gave me the evil eye. I let her go ahead and do it. The results still looked kind of girly to me but what could I do? Fortunately nobody at school noticed.
I knew the girls had more plans for me. I just didn’t know when the other shoe would drop. I celebrated the end of the school term by playing computer games all weekend and sleeping in on the following Monday. I heard my bedroom door open but I kept my eyes closed and hoped my sister would go away.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” My eyes popped open. It wasn’t Fiona’s voice. It was Carla’s.
“I’ve come to reward you for being such a good girl lately.” She started pulling back my covers but I kind of panicked and grabbed them back.
“Don’t you want your reward?”
“I’m not dressed.” I usually sleep in my jockey shorts on warm nights.
“But that’s good,” she replied. “I can’t give you your reward any other way.”
I mentioned before that my crush on Carla was over but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t still attracted to her. She wanted me undressed. Was she going to let me have sex with her? That would be a dream come true. I let go of the covers and Carla pulled them back to the foot of the bed. My prick was rock hard and not just because it was my morning woody. Carla got on the bed with me although she remained dressed and we started kissing. I would have been satisfied with lots of kissing but her next words nearly gave me a heart attack.
“Would you like me to give you a hand job?”
“Uh, yeah...sure.” My mother couldn’t be home. A glance at the bedside clock confirmed she’d left for work. I briefly wondered where Fiona was lurking.
“But you have to let me tie your hands to the bedpost so you can’t grab me.”
“I won’t grab you. I promise.”
“I’m not taking any chances.” Carla started to get up and I panicked again.
“You can tie me!” She smiled and reached into a bag. She brought out a pair of Velcro cuffs and my hands were soon secure to the bed post. She wasn’t finished though. After removing my shorts, she produced another pair of cuffs that secured my ankles to the bottom posts. I was completely helpless.
I have to give Carla credit. I was ready to cum the moment she first caressed my dick. Instead she made it last well over ten minutes. It might have gone on longer except the little beauty swirled her tongue around the head. It was too much for me. I started spurting. Carla gave a little squeak of surprise and let it finish squirting into the palm of her hand.
“Did you get all of that?”
“I sure did.” Rats! The door had been left ajar and my dear sister was there recording the entire scene on a video camera. Carla scooped up some cum with her index finger and stuck it in her mouth.
“Delicious! Do you want to try it, Fiona?” Fiona blushed but nodded.
“It’s tasty,” Fiona said. “You should try it, Georgette.”
“The rest is for her.” I knew what was coming but I couldn’t escape. I struggled in my bonds, clenched my teeth and shook my head. It didn’t do any good. Carla pinched my nostrils closed and waited until I had to open my mouth to breathe. I was forced to swallow my own cum load.
“We’re going to fix you up and dress you up today, Georgette. You’d better cooperate completely or you know what’ll happen.” Yeah, I knew.
Fixing me up included sticking me into a tub full of water scented with bath salts. I had to shave my legs and underarms. My fingernails and toenails were painted a bright pink. My lipstick color matched. I wore a blue top with a sailor collar and a matching skirt. The skirt’s hem ended at mid thigh. I wore a padded bra stuffed with tissue. My footwear consisted of a pair of pink tennis shoes and knee socks. A straw hat topped it off with a wide blue ribbon that hung off the back. I looked like a preteen schoolgirl. The ultimate humiliation was when Carla handed me a pair of girl’s panties and told me to put them on.
“I was wearing these just this morning,” she said. “You should feel honored.”
Feeling honored was the least of what I felt. I looked at Carla’s panties. They looked like an ordinary pair of panties. But what if they were magical panties? What if when I slipped them on, my dick and balls melted away and were replaced with a pussy? As you might be able to tell, I have an active imagination and it’s always trying to scare me. It succeeds more often than not.
I held my breath and slipped on Carla’s panties. I exhaled a sigh of relief as my genitals remained whole after coming in contact with the silky material. In fact I sprouted a stiffy. How humiliating! I was turned on with wearing girls’ panties. No, not any girls’ panties. These were Carla’s panties. Just this morning, her pussy was being hugged by this very same cloth. That was the reason. I wasn’t a sissy. I wanted to wear my jockey shorts over the panties because it seemed to cancel out the shame of wearing the panties. That was my reasoning anyway. The girls just laughed and said no. They continued recording my humiliation.
“Are you two finished having your fun,” I asked. “Can I go get changed now?”
“The day has just started, Georgette. We’re going to take a walk now.”
“I’m not going to walk outside looking like this.”
“You’ll do anything we tell you to do, Georgette, or you’ll regret it.” Well, this was a fine mess I’d gotten myself into and there didn’t seem to be any way to escape whichever way I turned.
We walked over to Carla’s house. It was ten minutes away but it felt like it took forever; a condemned prisoner walking the last mile. I walked between the girls. They each held a hand as if to prevent me from bolting. We arrived uneventfully and I breathed a sigh of relief as if the worst was over. I was wrong. We walked into the den and I gasped in terror. Standing there was a guy I recognized. I didn’t know his name but he was an upperclassman at my school.
“Hi, cuties,” he said. I started to back away but the girls pushed me into his arms.
“I’m a guy,” I exclaimed and I tried to push away but he held me fast. He was strong.
“You sure don’t look like a guy. You smell pretty, too.” He sat down on the loveseat and pulled me into his lap.
“Let go of me!” I struggled but it was useless. He was actually playing with me; letting me wear myself out. I finally got a good punch in and all I did was annoy him. He slapped me on my exposed thigh. Tears of pain and frustration started from my eyes and my resistance ebbed. I could feel his boner poking my thigh.
“I’m not gay.”
“I’m not either,” he replied with a laugh.
“You look like a girl, Georgette,” said Carla, “but that’s not enough. You now have to learn how to be a girl. One of the things girls have to learn early on is how to please a guy. Fred here is going to teach you how to please him just like a girl should.”
“You bitch!” I yelled.
“All girls are bitches, Georgette. And you’re going to my bitch at least for today. So how about giving me a kiss?”
“Please let me go,” I begged.
“Where’s my kiss?” Out of desperation I kissed him on the cheek.
“What kind of kiss is that?” He grabbed my chin and planted a big kiss right on my lips. I couldn’t stop him. I was so disgusted I punched him again. I should have known better after the last time I punched him. This time he turned me over his knee, pulled up my skirt and started spanking my bottom. It felt like by butt was on fire from the first time he struck me. I started cussing and threatening him but Fred just right on spanking me. Finally I was crying and begging him to stop.
“Are you going to hit me again?”
“Are you going to disobey me again?”
“Are you going to be my girl?”
“Yes!” I meant it too. I was completely subdued. I’d be anything he wanted me to be. Fred finally let me up and I immediately crawled into his lap. I rested my head on his shoulder for a few minutes to recover. When Fred started kissing me again I was kissing back. When he told me to kneel down in front of him I knew what he wanted. At least I thought I did. I unzipped his fly and freed his cock from its confinement. I started giving him a hand job just like Carla had given me earlier.
“Use your mouth, Georgette.” I was startled and scared but I didn’t consider disobeying my tormentor. I’d seen plenty of videos of girls giving guys blow jobs on porn sites. I just never imagined I’d be one of those girls. I copied the technique I’d seen just trying to get it over with. It seemed like forever but Fred finally blew his load into my mouth. I swallowed it all and controlled my urge to vomit it all back up. He seemed pleased. The worst of it was having an audience behind me commenting and giggling.
“I have to get Georgette cleaned up before our mom gets home,” said Fiona. We walked home. I removed the nail polish, took a shower and went to bed. I told Fiona to tell Mom that I was catching up on my sleep because of playing computer games all night. I cried myself to sleep.
I thought I was going to get a break when Carla and Fiona were invited by another girl to join her family at a seaside cottage for an entire month. They were caught up in the excitement of getting ready to leave and I was quickly forgotten. Or so I thought. Just before leaving, Fiona told me that Fred was in charge of me until their return and I’d better do as I was told or my last spanking would feel like a love pat. I had thoughts of running away but I finally resigned myself to being further abused.
Fred didn’t waste any time. Within an hour of Fiona’s departure, he called and told me he was on his way to pick me up. I thought about asking if I should dress as Georgette but he didn’t say anything about it one way or the other. I figured he’d tell me in person. I was standing in the driveway when he arrived and I got in the car.
“Did your sister talk to you?”
“Yeah, uh...I’m supposed to do everything you tell me to do.” I felt like crying.
“Good enough,” he replied and pulled out of the driveway.
“Where are we going?”
“To the mall.”
“What are we going to do there?”
“We’re going to meet girls.”
“Yeah. Girls are these cute little things that sort of look like guys except that they have tits and cunts. I’ll point some out to you.”
“I know what they are.” I couldn’t help laughing. “But why?”
“I felt kind of bad about what those bitches talked me into doing to you. So when they asked me to watch over you while they were gone, I figured I’d make it up to you by showing you the right way to deal with girls.” I sure didn’t expect this.
“It won’t do any good. I’m too shy and they’d probably laugh at me or tell me to get lost.”
“I’m pretty good at meeting girls but that still happens to me. So what? I just take the attitude that I’m doing them a favor by talking to them. You do the same.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.” The thought of trying to talk to a strange girl was very scary to me.
“I’ll teach you what to say. I usually get them interested by telling them a story. Girls love stories. I’ve got this new one that I’m trying out and it’s turning out to be one of my best. You’ll see what mean when I tell it.”
Fred told me the only thing I had to do for now was to stand by him, smile and act friendly. We approached two girls sitting at a table in the food court and he just started talking to them. Everything was all right until he started telling the girls his story. It was about these two girls he knew who were turning this guy into a girl. I just about fainted. He was telling them my story! I was there to be the butt of the joke. Eventually he was going to point at me and say, “Say hello to Georgette.”
That didn’t happen. Before he got too far into the story Fred said, “We have to go.”
The girls wanted to hear the rest of the story. They didn’t want us to go but Fred said we had to meet some friends. The girls offered their email addresses and made us promise to tell them the rest of the story.
“See how easy it is,” Fred asked after we left the girls.
“Easy for you maybe,” I replied.
“Why didn’t we stay? They wanted us to.”
“They wanted to hear the rest of the story. If you give a girl everything she wants, she’ll lose interest. This way we maintain interest. Anyway, meeting and getting accepted by the girls is what I wanted to show you.”
We went to a different part of the mall and approached another group of girls. I noticed Fred didn’t vary his pitch by much. It was almost like he was working from a . He confirmed that later saying what he was doing was much like an actor or a salesman worked. One of the girls asked me if I knew the people Fred was talking about. I nodded my head.
“The guy’s a sad case,” I said. “They even have him wearing panties.” The girls laughed hysterically. I didn’t feel bad because it was like we were talking about someone else; not me.
Later that week Fred had me initiating the approaches. I blew it badly the first several times but Fred was there to offer advice and encouragement. My confidence soared after my first successful approach and I learned not to be hard on myself after being rejected on later approaches. I got better at it. It was actually fun.
The month passed quickly and Carla and Fiona were due back soon. I wanted to do something special to thank Fred but I wasn’t sure what it would be. I surprised the heck out of myself with the next words out of my mouth.
“Are you interested in seeing Georgette again?”
“Why? Has she been asking about me?” I nodded my head.
“I think she cares about you a lot but...you never call.”
“I’m kind of surprised. I thought she’d be glad to see the last of me after our last meeting.”
“She was awfully mad at you. That’s for sure. But you did give her some strange feelings that were kind of scary...but she kind of liked. I dunno. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you think she’s being a slut?”
“I do want to see her again and no, I don’t think she’s being a slut. Do you think she’ll be available tomorrow?”
“She’ll be waiting for you anytime you want.” The frightening thing about was that I meant what I said.
After Mom left for work the next morning, I bathed and shaved my legs and under arms. I painted my nails and tried on one of Fiona’s negligees. It was a bra and panty set with a vest. I couldn’t do anything with the bra not having boobs so I just left it off. I checked myself in the mirror. I thought I looked stupid. I knew Fred would laugh and tease me. This wasn’t one of my more brilliant ideas, but I had committed to it and was determined to see it through. Besides, I could see Fred’s car pulling up in the driveway.
I opened the front door and stood there, waiting to be judged. Fred walked in and my heart leapt.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I whispered. Fred took me into his arms and we kissed. It wasn’t a gay kiss. I was a girl being kissed by a boy. I was Georgette. This time it felt right. I led him to the sofa and knelt down between his legs. I unzipped his fly and promptly bent to my task. My goal was to make up for the hard time I gave him the last time I was Georgette. Also I wanted to enjoy the experience this time, to be a girl. It lasted much longer. I sucked and swallowed the very last drop of his cum load.
“Am I getting better?”
“Much better,” Fred replied. “You were already better than Carla and Fiona that last time.” His words made me feel proud.
“Are you ready to become a woman,” he asked. I was confused by the question until he took something out of his pocket. It was a tube of lubricant. I realized he wanted to take me in the ass.
“I won’t force you,” Fred added. “It’s your decision.” He couldn’t have missed the fright and uncertainty in my expression.
“Can I think about it? I’m not used to even being a girl yet.”
“Take all the time you need,” Fred replied. “May I take you to lunch, Georgette?”
“I’d like that.” I cleaned up and put on my schoolgirl outfit. We drove to the mall and walked around hand in hand just like we were a couple. Well, we were exactly that as far as I was concerned. We had Chinese in the food court.
“I’m worried about what’s going to happen when Carla and Fiona get back,” I said.
“It’s too bad you don’t have some shit on them so you could get them to leave you alone.”
“I have all kinds of shit on them,” I gasped. Fiona and the other girls she hung out with usually treated me like a piece of furniture and I heard all kinds of stuff that would ruin friendships and cause all sorts of mayhem if I started repeating it to the right people. Why should I keep quiet if they were treating me this way? My smile told Fred volumes. He shrugged his shoulders like it was a no-brainer. After we finished lunch Fred bought me my own negligee and a couple of pairs of panties. He took me home and I walked in the front door. Mom was home early.
“We have to talk,” she gasped when she saw me. Well, I told her practically everything although I did censor some of it. I assured her I wasn’t gay but bisexual (at least with Fred) and I wasn’t thinking about a sex change operation. She was furious with the girls for blackmailing me into cross dressing. She promised that there would be hell to pay when Fiona got home.
It was hard but I talked her into letting me take care of it. I told her how my friend had really helped my self esteem and it wouldn’t have happened without the girls blackmailing me. Mom said she did notice my self confidence had soared in the past month but she wasn’t sure why. She was happy for me but she wasn’t going to let my sister escape punishment completely. I asked her to play dumb and she finally agreed.
Carla and Fiona weren’t finished with me but I was finished with them. When they threatened me I threatened them right back. They actually had the gall to be shocked and outraged by my threatening them back. Then they told they were already getting bored playing with me anyway. I believe that’s called sour grapes.
When school started in September my new openness with people was reciprocated in kind. The girl that talked to me in algebra is now in my geometry class. Her name is Katy. We’ve gone out on some double dates with Fred and one of his girlfriends. Fiona’s social life is much more restricted lately. The same thing happened to Carla after Mom had a talk with Mrs. Johnson. They think life is so unfair.
With my hair growing out Mrs. Johnson is ready to give me a new style. Mom is still uncomfortable with my cross dressing but she’s given me some money to buy more outfits when I’m out with Fred as Georgette. She’s also teaching me more about cosmetics. Life couldn’t be better for me now as George... or Georgette.
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