Date: Sun, 5 Apr 2009 07:36:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Matt Doesburg <mailtomatt@ymail.com>
Subject: Toni The Book Chapter 3

Hi again

Today I add the third chapter of the story of Toni.

Please get me some feedback, because it is frustrating not to know how a
story is received.

I hope you'll enjoy chapter 3

By the way the e-amil is: mailtomatt@yamail.com



Toni The Book Chapter 3

Although I wanted nothing more than to be with the girl in her it took me
until the weekend to go to her apartment. Standing at her front door I was
hit by a a full load of butterflies and when she opened I felt my cock
stirring. She was wonderful.  She had heavier make-up than usual, accenting
those beautiful eyes even more. She wore a mini skirt and a blouse that was
knotted at her stomach leaving a free view on her navel and she was
bare-footed. I saw a figure that probably 90 percent of the women her age
would be jealous of. But the biggest surprise was her hair. The times I had
seen her during our separation she had her hair in a knot or a pony
tail. Now she wore it open and it fell with a wealth of curls over her
shoulders, it was also much longer than I remembered. I had the impression
that she had lost weight, although her figure was fuller.

Her eyes that night were not sad but with an expecting longing that I could
not define.  She smiled one of her irresistible smiles and asked me in. She
had me seated on the couch. I was sitting at exactly the same spot as I had
been sitting on the evening I ran out. She got me a rum and coke and before
I could say anything, she silenced me with a finger on her lips and started
to talk.

"Matt, before you say anything, I want to tell you about myself.  This is
very difficult for me because I myself am not always sure about what I am
and who I am.  You know my family and you know that they are rich. Still I
probably don't say anything surprising when I tell you that they are bound
to the strict ways of the religion they belong to. This is true for a lot
of farmers outside the city.  Although my family made its money by
transports and exports of the products of the region, they originate from
these farmer families.

I was their first born child and they named me Anton. Probably the first
sex my parents had after my birth was successful as my sister Melanie was
born eleven months after me. My birthday is in January and hers is in
December so we have the same year of birth without being twins.  Still my
first collections of my youth were always together with her. I must have
been four when I remember that we both showed ourselves in the living
room. We both wore dresses and my parents and the visiting family all found
that very cute.

Melanie and I liked to swap clothes and nobody said anything against that
until I started to notice consciously that Melanie and I were not the
same. I had that appendix under my belly and she had a kind of
snatch. Little children are very curious and we also investigated them with
our hands. I asked my mother about it and she told me that it was all very
simple; Melanie was a girl and I was a boy. During the talk that followed,
she told me also that from that time on I should not wear Melanie's clothes
anymore. I would go to a Kindergarten soon and that would mean that I had
to wear boy clothes all day long.

I was confused but also curious.. In the Kindergarten there were boys as
well as girls. Now I was able to observe both of them and there my problems
began. I automatically sought the nearness of girls. In the beginning I was
even accepted by them. I loved the way they talked amongst each other and I
was generally interested in the subjects they discussed. Even at that early
age there were already some of them who boasted that they went with one of
the boys in the class.

When after some time I told them in my innocence that I also wanted to go
with one of the boys my acceptance was abruptly finished. I was informed
that boys did not go with boys. From that moment my loneliness started. I
should have mixed with the boys but I could not relate to them. They talked
about soccer and all kinds of things that I was not the least interested
in. I played with dolls together with my sister but I was laughed at when I
mentioned that to other boys.

My situation improved a little bit when Melanie also came to the
Kindergarten a year later. It was a strange situation. I was the older one
but Melanie was a cute little girl and already had many boy admirers. At
that age I had the first experience what it meant to be the fifth wheel on
the wagon.

I still know how I hated the clothes that I had to wear. I did not want
these awful shoes, trousers were OK but I hated the short variation, which
came almost to my knees.  I complained steadily about the shirts that
itched and scratched. The biggest problem was my hair; every time I had to
get my hair cut I went berserk.  I really fought the barber and even
vaguely remember to have bitten biting him at one time.

As I already said, my younger sister was like my big brother and we were
inseparable in school as well as at home. Although my parents had forbidden
us to swap clothes, we continued to do that when we were alone.  After a
while however Melanie started to hate the boys' clothes as much as I
did. From that time she became my mentor in clothing matters during our
sessions.

When I went to elementary school I fell back into my loneliness. After one
year when Melanie came also to that school, it was not the same as in
Kindergarten. This time it was obvious to both of us that we could not
continue by being a pair. At home however she kept on being my best and
only friend. The birth of my youngest sister Theresa, who is 8 years
younger than I, did not change anything in our relationship.

As long as I can remember I also was very conscious of my body. At night I
liked to get out of my pajamas and touch my body and of course my penis. I
did not hate it but I always wanted to be as Melanie. I loved to lie on my
back with my penis tucked backwards between my closed tights and stroking
the triangle that was created in that way.  I could fantasize having a
pussy and being a girl. Of course I let Melanie in on this new
accomplishment. After that we stroke each other when my penis was tucked
in.  These occasions however were not very frequent as we were not allowed
to sleep together any more.  We even had separate rooms after we moved to
the big house that you also know.

When I was approximately 11 years old I found out that I could stroke my
penis head behind my back until I had a good feeling in my stomach. After
some time however that good feeling was accompanied with the oozing of a
sticky substance from my penis. I could not prevent to spill this cum on
the bed sheets. I tried to prevent it by pressing my tights together, but
that was impossible because my seed balls were also pressed together in
that way.

Later that day my mother talked to me about it as she had found the wetted
bed sheets. She was not angry as I would have expected. The reason for the
easy acceptance of it was probably that she thought it was a good
sign. That at last I was becoming the boy they had wanted me to be all
along. Still they told me that I should not do it again because it was a
bad habit. They did not volunteer to inform me why it was bad.

After that lecture I perfected my masturbating.  I found out that I could
stow my balls in a pouch under my belly before I tucked my penis backwards
between my legs. In that way I could masturbate my member from behind. When
I felt myself coming I now could press my legs together and prevent my cum
to spill out".

After this development I did not stop of course and masturbated
regularly. I even told Melanie about it. At first she was mighty
jealous. Some time later she informed me proudly that she also had found a
way to generate that butterfly feeling in her stomach. She had to rub her
little snatch and the small but on top of it. Her masturbation of course
had no spurting side effects. Again I was sure that it was better to be a
girl.

I continued to wear Melanie's clothes and when she became twelve we could
even start to experiment with some make up. It was always an event when my
parents were out of the house and I could dress up. Bu it was bound to go
wrong of course. One bad day, when my parents came home unexpectedly, I was
parading the living room in full ornate and even with make up. They were
raving mad and I was under house arrest for quite some time. At that time
they understood that they themselves were not able to cope with the
situation. They simply did not know how to act in such a situation and
their last hope was that the family doctor would be able to cope with it.

The doctor probably never dealt with a transsexual in his entire life. He
only tried to lecture me about the proper ways to behave as a boy. I was
lucky to come out of the visits with him without prescriptions of male
hormones. I guess at that time these kinds of therapies were not really
known to old MD's. He only got my parents to put me on a diet that included
horse meat and excluded any chicken and cow meat.

Since that time my parents tried to force me into boy occupations all the
time. I got the best electrical mode trains and race tracks. I liked them
but played with only half heartedly with and only when Melanie joined me. I
was enlisted in one of the local soccer clubs. My father was part of the
managing comity. On the power of this office he had me playing every
Saturday. I did not like soccer at all because in my opinion it was one of
the most male sports around. I was so bad that the trainer had me out every
time after about half an hour. This continued for some months until my
father gave up. He came to the conviction that to force me on the field,
showing everybody how bad I was, did not help the case at all.

Still they did not give up. They told me that I had to participate in a
sport's team but that I could choose kind of sports.  Although I postponed
the decision for several weeks they kept insisting. At the end I opted for
"Korfbal" which is a Dutch invention and can best be compared to basket
ball. The most eminent differences are firstly that it is played outside on
a field. The second one that made me chose this alternative was that it is
played with mixed players; e.g. boys as well as girls.

Of course Melanie and I did not stop with our clothing sessions. We only
got more careful. We dared to go into the living room only for a short time
shortly after my mother left the house. She left us alone rather frequently
because she loved to shop. She also had many friends, who organized tea
parties frequently. Luckily for us she used to take Terry with her,
especially to the tea parties. There were always other girls her age
accompanying their mothers at these meetings. During the shopping
afternoons we mostly had to baby sit on Terry and clothing sessions were
automatically cancelled.

I kept on loving these sessions. Both Melanie and I knew that it was not
normal. We talked a lot about it trying to find reasons. The only
explanation we had as 12 and 11 year olds was an easy child's
reasoning. Melanie had tried on my clothes but discarded them. She did not
like them for the same reasons as I did and could very well understand that
I preferred her clothes.

When I moved to high school I fell in love for the first time with a
boy. His name was John and he was two classes over me.  Children of 12 to
14 years did not know about transsexuals but they had heard stories about
homosexuals. I was sure now that I was a homosexual. To talk to John was
impossible. Like in most schools around the world older boys did not talk
with younger boys. All I could do was standing in the shadows and envy the
girl that he started to date. As I said before I was very much alone.

When Melanie followed to High School our clothing sessions became lesser
and lesser. The first reason was that Terry was not taken along so much
with my mother anymore.  Melanie increasingly lost interest too
however. She got many new girlfriends to hang put with and she even had her
first dates with boys. I was mostly the one to baby sit on Terry. Although
we got along rather well, I intuitively knew that she was not helped by a
brother who acted like a girl.

When I was 14 I started to notice body hair which I hated so much that I
turned to Melanie again. She did not have any yet but told me that she had
heard from an older girl that she shaved her arm pits.  At the first
possible occasion I "borrowed" my father's Gillette and a used razor
blade. I shaved my arm pits and pubes and bled like a dog. Luckily Melanie
came home before I really panicked. Together we tried to stop the bleeding;
fortunately we succeeded before Melanie could panic too. After that I did
not touch a razor for a month and bore the itching. But when the hairs
became really visible again I repeated the procedure, with much better
results this time.  I soon bought a razor myself from my allowance and
started to shave regularly until today.

The first three high school years were difficult for me. I was not an
outcast but because I did not socialize I was a stranger to everybody. The
boys seemed to feel that I did not belong to them and neglected and bullied
me. Luckily enough I was never beaten because of my strangeness. To the
girls I was not interesting as a boy, whom they found dull and
unattractive.. Of course there was absolutely no possibility whatsoever to
talk with them on a girl to girl basis.

The funny diet of the family doctor only lasted a few months but I saw to
it that I ate a lot of chicken meat. I do not know to what good that was
but I started to notice subtle difference between me and other boys. Some
of them got hair on their upper lips while I did not have any hair on my
face. Others even started to get hair on their breasts. They also got lower
voices while mine stayed more or less as it was.  The strangest and partly
frightening thing was that I grew tiny breasts.

The only one I told about them was Melanie of course. After the period with
John we both had come to the conclusion that I had to be homo sexual. Upon
the information about my breasts she reacted relieved.  In her opinion that
proved that I was not homo sexual. There was of course no explanation as to
what I was as a non homosexual boy with breasts.

The "breasts" could easily be stowed away and disguised. They might even
have been smaller as with some of the fatter boys in my class. With my lean
figure they should not have been there though. When we had swimming and
sport lessons however I was always afraid to be found out and occasionally
some of the boys made a remark. At such occasions I could have sank into
the ground.

Matt you cannot imagine how lonely I was.. I was a freak to those children
who took a closer look and also to myself. It was frightening because I had
no clue what was happening. I knew of course the difference between boys
and girls and I had no way to consider myself in another way than as a
boy. At that time I had absolutely no clue that all these strange things
happening to me meant that I was more female than male.  The circumstance
that made things even worse was that the distance between me and the other
pupils became ever greater.

Only at night in bed I found a little solace when I lay naked with my penis
tucked in and stroking myself. Massaging my breasts, kneading my nipples
between thumb and forefinger and caressing the triangle under my belly I
really felt like a girl. I fantasized about walking around in girls'
clothes, fooling around or shopping with Melanie and mostly I cried my self
to sleep.

All these developments made me evermore unsure of myself.  Slowly I drifted
into a permanent depressive mood. During the fourth grade this feeling
became really unbearable. I had no friend whatsoever, not a boyfriend and
not a girlfriend.. I told you before that I never was beaten up because of
my strangeness. But to be neglected one hundred percent by everybody around
you is almost as bad as beatings. Even Melanie at that time drifted away
from me. She had girlfriends and a steady flow of boyfriends.  Although she
always had an open ear for me, I sensed occasions where it was clear that
she had her mind on other things than my problems.

At the end o f the fourth year I was really very close to suicide.  During
the subsequent holidays Melanie and I were again spending more time
together. We even had a room together at the holiday resort.  I could wear
her clothes again for short spans of time and my spirits went up a
little. At the start of the fifth grade however, the loneliness returned
with ever deeper depressive moods.  I made up my mind that I would not live
to finish high school.

But like the saying says, when the problems become overwhelming rescue may
be near. In my case the rescue was a new boy in the fifth grade. There were
rumors that he had been kicked out of a school in Rotterdam just before the
exams. He was a year older than me, as he had to do the year again and his
name was Marcel. He changed my life and as a matter of fact, he probably
also saved it.

It was friendship on first sight. He was very handsome and kind of wild and
he was a homosexual. Marcel was the son of a university professor and had
originally attended a Gymnasium in Rotterdam. In his fifth grade he seduced
his sports teacher. After he had been expelled, he had to repeat the fifth
grade. His family though it better to have him changed to a school in
Delft. As Marcel did not volunteer information, his father had a long talk
with the teacher in order to find out what happened. He came out of that
meeting being convinced that the man was more a victim than a culprit.

He and his wife already had known for some years that Marcel had homo
sexual tendencies. They kept hoping that he would change but now they got
the confirmation that that would not be the case.  Luckily for Marcel his
parents were open-minded and probably even for a liberal family, ahead of
their time.

On our second date he asked me bluntly whether I was homosexual. I told him
that I thought I was. He asked me about my experiences in that field. When
I told him that I had no experiences whatsoever he started to act like a
big brother. A big brother however to whom I lost my virginity.

Although we were not in love with each other we decided that we would make
sex. I was really exited when he organized the place of a friend for an
evening. He organized the evening in the way of real lovers coming
together. He cooked for us and when we finished our dinner and had drunken
our win, he gave me my first double cognac. After that he started to
undress me. By the time we got naked, I had the biggest erection of my
life. I hated it because in my opinion it was so very boyish. He was very
kind to me and told me what he did when he kissed me and sucked my dick. I
came in an orgasm that left me gasping for breath.  It was so much
different and better than the ones I had after masturbation.

That evening I was introduced in the sexual world of homosexuals and I felt
a dick for the first time in my anus.  I also sucked a penis for the first
time and drank his cum when he came. When we lay together after our love
making he asked me whether I had enjoyed it. I told him honestly that I did
but that I felt funny about it because I did not really love him.

He told me from his side that in his opinion I was not a homosexual. Upon
my question what I was when not homosexual, he told me that he had gotten
the impression to have been with a woman. My breasts wore the most
important indication. Another was my skin that was much too soft for a
boy's. Also the lack of body hair in the places where I did not shave was
unusual. But the most important indication to him was my voice, which he
found typically female.. I always had thought it to be too low for a
girl. Upon these remarks from his side I spilled my heart out to him. I
told him about my youth and all the lonely days and my feeling to be a girl
in a boy's body.

With all his worldliness Marcel was at loss with my problem. He mentioned
it however at home and his parents invited me for a talk. The Johnsons were
the kind of parents that I longed for. They had me tell my story and after
that they told me that I was probably a born transsexual. For the first
time in my life I heard that there were indeed people like myself, who were
indeed born into the wrong body.

They asked me whether I would like to talk to Dr. Smith, who was their
family doctor.  I eagerly accepted that opportunity. Our first session was
only a short one. He took blood samples of me and gave me a questionnaire
that I had to fill out. After I was ready with that he gave me a new
appointment for the following week. After the words of the Johnsons that
had lifted my spirits tremendously, his purely medical attitude was kind of
a disappointment to me.

A week later I went to visit him again and now he was like another
person. Dr. Smith confirmed what the Johnsons had presumed.  His first
information to me was that the blood tests had proved that I was indeed
more female than male. He explained to me how hormones determined the sex
of a person. My so-called hormones household was definitely that of a woman

He was of another caliber than our family doctor. He probably had prepared
himself for our second meeting because he had a lot of information and even
pictures of women with dicks. He informed me that people like me had always
been present in history.  With some old civilizations they were held in
high regard, because they were seen as blessed by the Gods. Of course, our
Western society and especially the Christian religion had changed all this
by making them outcasts and freaks.

During the long afternoon together with him he asked me about my feelings.
How I reacted on things, what my dreams were. Although he must have noticed
that I was extremely insecure and unsure of myself, he told me that the
worst thing I could do was trying to be a man. He also told me that people
like me could have surgery that would change me into a real complete
woman. At the end of our meeting he told me that we should continue to talk
regularly. Art the moment that was all he could do. Normally he would
prescribe hormones but he was unable to do that without the consent of my
parents.

Matt I was walking on clouds. I felt that I was no freak after all, that I
could not help what I was. I did not need to fight it anymore when I felt
like a woman.. Of course the problems were not solved yet. Much to the
contrary, now I was really imprisoned in a boy's body and still could not
talk about it at home.

After that diagnosis I was invited again by the Johnsons. That visit was
the start of a lasting friendship.  They told me that although Marcel and I
would not be intimate friends anymore they would love me to visit them
regularly. At first I was reluctant which must have shown clearly.  They
took no notice of that and told me that they wanted to try and give me the
guidance that my parents were obviously not able to. That was the first
time I cried in the presence of strangers. I told them everything they
wanted to know, about my parents, my sisters and my punishments when the
found me in Mel's clothes. Above all I told them about my loneliness and
suicidal feelings before meeting Marcel.

After that first visit many followed although they were right of course
regarding Marcel. He lost interest. I told you that he was a wild boy but
in his sexual relations he was strictly the bottom part.  He was a seducer
alright, which he had proven but he could not relate to someone like me.  I
was definitely too much a female for him. As my sex had now more or less
been determined Ms.  Johnson proposed to me to really try out females
clothes. She took my measures and called me after a week inviting me for a
dinner at their house. I had to come already early in the afternoon. I told
at home that I would stay with Marcel and his parents which was OK'ed.

When I came to the Johnsons house, Ms. Johnson was alone. She got me into
tears again as she took me with her to her bed room, where a small wardrobe
was laying on the bed. Now I had a real dress session.  She told me to take
off the clothes I was wearing and take a shower. After I had done that she
came into the bath room. When I reacted embarrassed, she told me to leave
the pruderies out as she knew how boys looked. She started from the very
beginning showing me what women used for their skins. She even cut my nails
on hands and feet and got nail polish on them. When I started to object,
she assured me that she would remove it before I went home again.

The next step was underwear.  She had me put on a padded bra and panties.
Seeing the bulge in the panties she was a little bit at a loss. Pulling the
panties down, I showed her how I tucked myself in. After putting them on
again she clapped in her hands when she saw my flat abdomen. After that she
seated me in front of the big make-up mirror and started to put on make up
in a very decent way. Telling me that less was more, she basically only
worked with eye make-up and lipstick.  To put lipstick on is no big deal
but to make up your eyes is an art to which you need instructions. She
finished it by putting some perfume behind my ears.  She apologized that
this perfume was really for elder women but she had no other available.

My hair was another matter. As the Beatles had not had started their big
successes yet, my hair was definitely a boys' cut.  Ms. Johnson was unable
to create something feminine with it. But altogether after I had put on
pantyhose, skirt and blouse I held my breath when I saw myself in the
mirror. I saw a girl. A very beautiful young girl, Ms. Johnson assured me.

That night I dined with the family as a girl.  To Mr. Johnson I was
introduced as Antonia. He looked at me and started to say that he had
expected Anton. He only got halfway in the sentence before realizing who I
was. It goes without saying that that afternoon and evening were the most
beautiful in my life until then.  I was feeling and treated like a real
girl, for the first time in my life. I also saw Mr. Johnson looking
stealthily at me several times during the evening.  I had tears in my eyes
when I had to change in boy's clothes again and had to say goodbye

The following visits were all heavenly to me as I could openly talk about
myself. Occasionally the Johnsons allowed me to dress up like a girl. I
wanted to dress up every time but they held me back, saying it was not the
right time yet.  After some time I confessed them that I had informed
Melanie about my visits to which they reacted very negatively
initially. They asked me whether I had thought of the consequences, when
Melanie would spill some of our "secret" to my parents.  I told them that
Melanie and I had shared that secret already for a long time and that she
was my only real friend in the world. Still they held back for some weeks,
but after that they asked me to bring Melanie along because they wanted to
meet her.

Melanie at first was reluctant, because she felt that the visit would only
be some kind of test but in the end she agreed.  She came along splendidly
with the Johnsons. During the evening I could see that they lost all doubts
that they may have had about her. After that she occasionally accompanied
me to them, mostly when she was in between boyfriends.

During these visits we also found out that Melanie and I were
look-a-likes. One time when Melanie had her hair out of her face and were
basically dressed in the same clothes Ms Johnson came in.  I could see that
she held her breath. She took us by the hand and had us stand in front of
the big dressing mirror.  We saw two girls that could have been twins.

Some months before Marcel and I would make the end examinations in our
school, the Johnsons asked me very officially to visit them. Also Marcel
was there and I was invited to accompany them to a restaurant for
dinner. Already during this dinner they told me the reason for the
invitation. They said that during the year that they knew me, they had come
to regard me almost as their own child.

A child however that had special problems. When Marcel had told them in the
beginning that he wanted them to talk to me and also had told why, they
were only mildly interested. A little bit curious, yes, but they did not
think much of it. When they met me however, they understood instantly, that
I was not a kinky boy with a spleen for female clothes. They had understood
there was more and that I was indeed a transsexual. A kind of people they
had heard of but never had met.

During the subsequent visits they had learned to know me as a girl, who
they themselves would have liked to have had as a daughter. At that point I
had to ask them whether they saw me really as a girl, to which the answer
was a wholeheartedly: yes.. They also told me that they were so sorry for
me, that I did not have any possibility the talk about my being different
with my parents. Because of the attitude of my parents, they initially had
reservations to allow me the experimenting with female clothes.  These
doubts were renewed, when I involved Melanie.  Together with Dr. Smith they
decided however to continue, as all of them felt that it would help me to
cope with my situation.

A situation that could have led into a disaster for me very easily. They
had had discussions with Dr. Smith without me.  He had told them that in
similar cases, people like me were easily lured into the half world of
transvestite clubs and prostitution. The Johnsons told me that they wanted
to help me to avoid such a future. Upon hearing that I could not hold back
my tears. After I had calmed down a little bit, they came to the real
reason for the invitation.

The problem at that time was that I had experimented with female clothes
alright, but all that experimenting was done indoors. They thought it was
necessary for me to experience the feeling of permanently wearing women's
clothes.  There would come a moment in my life, that I would have to make
the decision to continue to live like a man or a woman. The best way to
prepare me for that decision would be to live completely as a girl for some
time. In Delft at that moment that was impossible and that is why they
proposed me to join them on their holiday to Greece. Although my heart
leapt at that thought, I told them right away that I was afraid that my
parents would not agree to such a proposal. The Johnsons had already
thought of that however and told me that they would call them.

During the following weekend they were able to organize a meeting with them
during which Marcel played my friend. The Johnsons were an academic
family. Mr. Johnson was even a university professor. To my parents such
people were of course beyond any doubt. I got the OK at the end of the
evening. The even insisted that they would pay for my costs.

Matt you cannot imagine what that meant for me.  One week before our
departure Marcel's mother and I went shopping alone in The Hague. I was
allowed to get me a wardrobe for three weeks. That meant dresses, skirts,
blouses, panties, bra's, trousers and bikini's. I already had some girl
clothes at their house.  Some Ms. Johnson had bought for me and some I had
bought together with Melanie.  Ms. Johnson told me however that these were
for Dutch weather and I needed clothes for Greek weather now.

Again we started at the beginning buying panties and bras.  Some white
cotton panties for everyday use and some sexy ones for the evenings. We
bought some day by day clothing that would fit boys as well as girls and
dresses. Her first attire she had bought for me was a skirt but now I got
some light dresses that felt completely different. I also got some shoes
and my first pumps with 7 cm high heels. My first tryout was a disaster and
I more or less panicked, telling Ms. Johnson, that everybody would know I
was a boy. She however reassured me that the Greeks would only see a
seventeen your old girl trying out her first pumps.

We also bought a bikini had and she insisted that it was one with a rather
un-sexy bottom because of the tucking.  I would have preferred a smaller
one but she told me that under my garments small accidents with my member
would not be a problem. With a bikini such a small problem could instantly
become a big problem. I was elated at getting all these clothes and the
prospect of two weeks as Antonia. I could hardly wait for the day of our
departure.

The biggest problem at that time was my hair, still being at home I had no
possibility to grow my hair long. Thanks to the starting general trend it
was longer than few years before but it was by no way very girl like. I
visited a hair dresser together with Mrs. Johnson, the same one I work for
now, who cut my hair in a female way. I stayed however very unsure about
it.

The voyage was made by me in the every day clothes (trousers and a shirt)
that could easily have been worn by a boy. Like Ms. Johnson had said, the
voyage was without problems and at the passport controls nobody looked at
me twice. In Greece we had to go from Athens with a ferry to the Island of
Aegina, where we checked into a hotel. That evening I came down shakily,
because I was wearing my new pumps. I was side by side with Marcel as boy
and girl, make up courtesy of his mother again..

It was the first of twenty dreamlike experiences. I was a girl 24 hours a
day and 7 days a week. Greek boys whistled after me. I could also see many
of the fathers look at me with admiration. I even saw the occasional girl
too look with envy in their eyes. Nobody seemed to wonder about the length
of my hair, although all Greek girls wore their hair long. The beach was
the most difficult part because my dick tried to live a life of its own and
escape from his "prison". I had to go into the water regularly to get it
into the right direction again. After that experience I started to use a
special small panty for the tucking. Over it I put a normal sized panty,
which you have noticed when you tried to undress me for the first time.

The best times were when I went to town together with Mr. Johnson. We were
like two sisters giggling all the way. But between the giggles she
constantly tutored me in doing things the way girls do it. Speak with a
slightly higher voice, flatten your dress when sitting down, and keep your
knees together.

You cannot begin to understand what that time meant to me. I was at last
living in a way that I was sure was the right one. If there had been some
doubts left in my mind not to go the path towards womanhood, they were
washed away on the streets of Aegina.

When the second week started Mr Johnson announced that we would go on a
boat trip of four days with an English friend of him.  This friend had his
yacht in the Aegean Sea and we would sail together with him to the islands
of Poros and Hydra.  As it turned out it was a big sailing boat with three
separate cabins for sleeping. As Mr. Grainge had his son Frank with him,
Ms.. Johnson and I had to share one of these cabins. It was great to be
together with another woman on an equal basis. At home nakedness was a sin
and my mother would never have showed herself to anybody; even not to my
sisters. Ms Johnson did not seek these exposures, but when it was necessary
there was nothing of this false prudery.

She was also curious about my body and she even investigated it thoroughly
with her eyes.. She also asked me more intimate questions as she had done
during our meetings when Mr. Johnson was also present.  One thing she was
very curious about whether I was attracted to girls or to boys. I honestly
told her that I really did not know, but that boys looking to me exited me
definitively more than when girls did it.

Sometimes I had the idea that she was close to seducing me. I was glad that
she didn't because that would have shattered my whole world. I was
different but besides that I was still very much imbedded in the strict
rules of conduct of my education and background. I certainly was not ready
to make love with an older woman. Especially not as I could not have faced
Mr. Johnson ever again and I had a horror to loose the only family I ever
had until then.

Frank the son of the English friend was another case. He was a year younger
than me and he obviously had fallen in love with me on first sight. He
followed me everywhere and on the third night when we anchored in a
beautiful bay he asked me to go together into the nearby village.  Ms
Johnson gave her consent and that was my first date. I had dated with
Marcel of course but he knew what I was.  Frank didn't know and I still
have a special place in my heart for him. At the end of the walk before
returning to the boat we kissed and that was the first time I kissed a boy
as a girl.

Before flying back to Holland we stayed 2 nights in Athens. They were two
days and evenings I will always remember. The first day we visited to
Acropolis and shopped at their "basar" In the evening we went for dinner to
the Plaka. The second day was museums day and in the evening we ate fish in
Piraeus. I was happy and unhappy at the same time Matt. Happy because I
loved that time so much that it almost hurt and unhappy because se that
wonderful time came to en end.

Coming back from the holiday I fell into a deep hole mentally. For me the
holiday could have lasted forever. During that time I again considered
suicide. With the help of the Johnsons and because I would be legally
mature at my eighteenth birthday I kept going. I had also a new meeting
with the Dr. Smith, who asked me again whether I wanted to go on to become
a girl. When I confirmed this, he told me that no, three months before my
eighteenth birthday, he wanted to start a hormone treatment with me. This
was illegal of course but he felt that I needed it to be better prepared to
the change when the moment would arrive.

The first effects this hormone treatment had on me was more depressions,
but after one month I started to notice also other effects. The aureoles
around my nipples seemed to become larger as did my breasts. My skin felt
softer and I even noticed when wearing tighter clothes that my hips got
broader. The last months before my eighteenth birthday, I dressed as a girl
every time I visited the Johnsons.

Shortly before my eighteenth birthday I told the Johnsons that I wanted to
get out of the university, in which I just had enrolled and search a
job. They were not happy with the decision, but I had made up my mind and
again they were darlings as they helped me again.

Mr. Johnson together with the Dr. Smith got me this room and organized a
job at the hair salon for me. My new boss knew my story and also wanted to
help me. Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, the big showdown took place
with the family. I announced that I would leave the university and start
working. They pleaded with me, yelled with me, threatened me and even sweet
talked with me but I had to do it.

The first month of my new life, I stayed with the Johnsons being their only
"child" as Marcel had gone away to study in the USA. Ms Johnson was my
coach again into my 7/24 womanhood. I do not know what I would have done
without her. She was more mother to me than my own mother had ever
been. The Johnsons however were always the first to defend the behavior of
my parents.  They kept insisting that they were probably as much
overburdened with my problems as I was myself.

They even visited them a second time and tried to reason with them. After
the visit they told me that they had felt that both were suffering under
the situation. Still both of them also had constantly talked about the sins
of Anton in face of the church. They had tried to convince them that my
problems were purely medical. At the end they even tried to tell them that
a God might have wanted it as a test for them. But even that was to no
avail.

The very first months were full of new experiences. Every morning was a new
expedition into a fairy land that was called womanhood. As Anton I had
needed less than half an hour between waking up and leaving the house. As
Toni I needed an hour and more to shower, always looking for hairs that had
to be removed and to dress up ever so slowly. Going out of the apartment
was like starting an adventure every day again.  I always walked to the
salon. Firstly because I had no bicycle and secondly, with my dick tucked
in, I also preferred not to try riding a bike. But you know the salon is
not that far away from here.  Everything was very sexy and I must admit
that I was in a constant state of arousal during that time.. When I got
used to all of it the loneliness crept back again however.

Also due to the hormone therapy I had a very depressive mood and I cried a
lot. In the beginning I visited the Johnsons regularly, but Marcel had gone
to college abroad. Because I did not want to bother them with my moods the
visits became less and less. I tried to get friends and found a good one
among my colleagues. After a while however she found a boyfriend. Although
she tried to talk me into dating a friend of her friend, I was not ready
for that. After that our contacts became less and less.  I did get offers
from boys but was always afraid to accept the.  I was sure that after some
dates most of them would only be interested in getting into my panties.

Still I wanted a friend, preferably a boyfriend, to talk with and to cry on
his shoulder when I felt down. I longed to do things together and to
discover the world and then you came into my life.  After our first
encounters you were just friendly.  You did not urge me to get upstairs and
I instantly knew that you could be at least a steady friend. After our
first dates, I desperately fell in love with you. I loved every minute with
you and I would have liked so much to go with you to Italy. I did not dare
to do it because I was convinced that I would be discovered during the
trip, but I counted every day until your return.  My moods in that time
almost disappeared.  I even started to see a light at the end of the tunnel
and then you gave me the ultimatum.

During that first month we were separated I tried to forget you because I
was so afraid to loose you when you would know the truth.  But gradually I
convinced myself that you would understand it. I should have known of
course that it would not work and than the most horrible scenario developed
anyway. When I saw the expression on your face changing into disgust, when
you realized what you saw, I knew all was lost.

After that evening I fell back into a very depressive mood and the few
times that I saw you were not helping. Especially the second time when you
sensed that my bruises were not from falling was awful. I really
contemplated to kill myself and make an end to it. You were however only
partly right. A new friend I had opened a toilet door at the wrong moment
and saw my dick. He reacted impulsively and violently. I was hit full in
the face, which made me stumble and fall on the washing basin. I almost was
knocked out and when I stood again he had disappeared.  To you I only said
that not everybody was like you and when I saw your eyes there was no
disgust anymore. You seemed to be really interested in what had happened to
me. At the same time you seemed to be afraid to know the truth about what
had happened and I did not volunteer to say more.

The last time I saw you was on the market place and you had an expression
of jealousy in your eyes when you saw me with that other man. He was just a
salesman visiting the hair salon, who invited me for a coffee. As a matter
of fact he was no competition to you at all, as he was gay.  At that moment
I really had a slight hope that you would be there when I returned from the
toilet but it was not yet time.

I was so alone and devastated that I started to dislike my body. I
especially hated my penis that was the source of all my unhappiness. I had
always liked to see myself in the mirror. Of course my favorite pose had
with my legs together and my penis tucked in. Later I guess, I got used to
my female body that featured a penis. Now before you came back, I even
broke several mirrors in the apartment. The realization that others and
especially you found me so revolting, made me feel utterly lost and
hopeless.

Now you know everything" she said to me.

I was silent for as long time. I cursed myself silently for my selfish
behavior. I never had spent a thought about the hell she must have gone
through. After some time I looked up at her and saw panic and fear creeping
into her face. I got her hand and draw her to me. In a silent embrace we
now sat together silently for a long time.

When I broke the embrace she started: "Matt when you want to be just a
friend it's OK. Please don't go away again."  She wanted to say more but I
shook my head and I told her that I was there to stay. I told her about my
research. I knew now that she was indeed a woman with a wrong body. After
that I told her about my ill fated activities with all those girls during
our separation. I even told her rather bluntly that I had fucked every girl
I could get just to prove I was no queer. But I also told her that after
each discarded girl the certainty increased that I wanted her.

I told her about my second trip to Italy and of Nicola's plans in the USA
and his plans for me in that context. I told her also that I had turned
down the proposal because it would have meant that I would not have been
able to try to get her back . I saw tears in her eyes at that moment but I
knew they were tears of joy. At the end I asked her formally whether we
could be together again. I also asked her however to give me time to accept
her body as it was. She said nothing but embraced me with a happy smile.

To Be continued.

And remeber comments please to mailtomatt@ymail.com