Date: Fri, 27 May 2016 06:07:39 +0000 (UTC) From: craigbrownmagic@yahoo.com Subject: Growing pains Pt 1 (TG) Growing Pains. Ch.01 Is this just another fantasy story about a boy turning into girl? I imagine hearing you ask. NO, it isn't fiction. In fact to the best of my memory, this is more or less what actually happened all those years ago. If you met me today, you'd just see a very well dressed woman looking back at you, not a confident post-op transsexual who is shortly going to hit the big 40! ********************************* So just how did this all start? That's easy. It happened when my big sister Wendy and I got caught playing dress up games by her mum who was also my babysitter a.k.a. Aunty Dot. Hello. My name back then was Andrew (except to my mum and my Aunty Ann who called me the 'Panda Bear' or 'Andy Pandy' like in the children's books. 'No one' else, on fear of death called me by my pet names). I was 11 (almost turning 12) and it was also close to the end of school year, so perhaps that was why when I said I was feeling a bit under the weather that my mother had let me stay at home sick for the day. As was always the case, she told me to go around to Aunty Dot's house and she'd pick me up on the way home that evening. So I walked around the street corner to Aunty Dot's house and surprise, surprise, who answered the door when I knocked. (Wendy's school was having a swimming carnival and she'd decided not to go so it was her who answered the door) "Hello Steph" Wendy said quietly as I hugged her and she gave me a peck on the cheek. "Hi Sis" I coyly and shyly replied. Wendy always called me Steph or Stephanie nowadays whenever we were alone and I always called her Sis in return. This all eventuated after one day several years earlier on, both of us, somewhat younger and incredibly more naive ended up having me dress up in one of Wendy's old dresses and play at being sisters*** ****** *** Authors note*** Now I'd like to ask that any reader not to get confused or cynical at this point. After you read how I describe myself, I'm sure that you'll agree that I'm a boy and will always be a boy. How a child within a family plays and acts his or her own siblings should always be tolerated unless any of them is about to cause bodily harm to either themselves or to each other. ****** Wend and I had played 'dress up' a number of times since then and I always looked forward to when we had a chance to do it, as I had such a wonderful time wearing girls clothes and acting like a younger sister to Wendy To see Wend smile and be happy was always a warming and joyous sight. Wendy had grown up considerably and was now 17 and turning into quite the young woman, standing about 5 feet 7 inches, with a noticeably large bust line (38C but don't ask how I know this, just accept that I know it and don't argue with me), a very pronounced bottom, slightly full figured, (today's men would call her figure "buxom") dark brown hair with curls through it, a small pert nose and fully shaped lips. She always seemed to be breaking up with some boy or another and was in her last year at high school getting ready to leave and go out into the workforce. Now as for me, I measured around 5foot 3inches tall, weighed around 5 stone 7pounds (77lbs back then) with a body just like any other normal 11-12 year old boy. Neither thin nor fat, no exceptional features, no outlandishly long hair or girlish facial features. (puhleeeze!!!) I am so fed up reading about pretty feminine looking boys. I'll grant you that there are lot out there, but 'I' was just like any other of a million other pre-pubescent teenage boys back in the mid 80's, noisy, dirty, smelly (well not so much that), impatient and I guess just as obnoxious as the rest. Well except for my butt that is! THAT protruded out at the back and my arms and legs were kind of scrawny. (thin and gangly). My hair length was around my collar and mousy blonde in colour, while perhaps my lips were a little too thin for my liking but nothing out of the ordinary for a brat my age. My most important feature (Wendy kept telling me) was my pretty blue eyes. She often said that they looked like 2 limpid pools of water and that anyone would want to die just to have me looking back at them. Yeah well perhaps they were blue, but as for Wendy's opinion of them, let's just say that I never heard any of my mates going into raptures over them!!! Get the message. I'm just an ordinary looking 11-12 year old boy! Thin yes, wiry, perhaps-to justify my lack of bulging muscles or my ego, but certainly not feminine looking. Mind you boys and girls back then (and even today) mostly look like this except for a few early developing girls. Mind you Wendy always said I looked great whenever we played dress up together, but that was HER opinion. And she was the only one who ever called me Stephanie and there was "no way" I was ever going to make that name public, believe you me! That was only for use between my 'sister' and I - thank you very much. ****** "I'm glad you're here today Steph, because I'm busting to tell someone about last weekend when I went to Peter's party," Wendy whispered to me as we walked down the hallway to the kitchen to get a drink. We conspired in whispers as we walked into the kitchen and I greeted my babysitter with my usual words of hello. We made some tea and retired back into the TV room and proceeded to watch some early morning rubbish TV, when Aunty Ann came in and announced she was going to the shops and asked if we want to come along. Wendy begged off saying that she might run into someone from school and she was supposed to be at the pool carnival, while I said that I wasn't feeling well enough to do the walk (Well I hadn't gone to school because I'd told my mum I didn't feel quite right, so THAT was MY excuse). We waited several minutes after aunty Ann went out the front door, before Wendy asked me did I want to play dress ups with her, so I simply nodded my head vigorously and she got up and I followed her back to her bedroom. Wendy started to unbutton her blouse in-front of me while I started to remove my t-shirt, before moving to my shoes and socks and finally my shorts. For reasons which I could never understand, Wendy was never bothered about getting undressed in-front of me and I was never embarrassed about being naked in front of her. Mind you if any of her 4 brothers ever saw her in underwear she would have definitely screamed the house down. - No one can explain how women think! She once tried to explain to me that she didn't think of me as a boy, but more as a sister and that as she always changed for PE in a dressing room full of other school girls, why should she feel embarrassed about changing in-front of her adopted sister. Admittedly she very rarely showed off her entire body to me anyway, often maintaining her modesty by keeping her bra and panties on. I never worried about Wendy seeing my naked, although I use to freak out if my mother caught me in the shower or getting changed. Go figure that one out! As Wendy undid her jeans and took them off, I spied the noticeable bulge of a sanitary napkin under her panties. Oddly enough I always had some 6th sense which always seems to alert me when Wendy was having her period and she'd grown so use to the pair of us dressing me in her clothes that she wasn't embarrassed so that one day she took pains to explain to me all about her periods and why they happened after I'd once asked her about the bulge in her underwear one time. "I see that Dr White's paying you another visit" I flippantly remarked to her. "Yep, right on time, thank goodness" she answered back. "They just started yesterday and I'm so relieved, because I was afraid I might have been pregnant." I did a double take on hearing that, and my questioning face must have been apparent to Wendy when she turned around holding a coat hanger. "I think we'll try this skirt and top on you today Steph," and started to tell me what happened at Pete's place the other day. She handed me one of her old training bras and a pair of her satin panties to put on and when I had finished doing that she gushed out that she had well and truly lost her "cherry" to Pete last Saturday. "We did the dirty deed?" she smugly told me, "but when we'd finally finished and he was pulling out of me, he realized that the condom he'd used had broken and when he told me I was scared stiff, that he might have gotten me knocked up," Wendy said in a rush of words. "So now I'm officially no longer a virgin Steph, I'm having my period so it's not baby time for me and let me tell you, that sex is GREAT and I wish I'd found out about it a lot earlier than this," she told me as I started to put on the blouse she handed me. "Wow sis, what was it like? So you finally lost it huh? Did it hurt much? Were you sore afterwards?" I excitedly asked her, not having any idea about sex, but enjoying sharing with her about the naughty secrecy of it all. Wend had one time (about a year earlier) showed me her cherry during one of our earlier "biology lessons". With her lying on the floor sitting naked propped up against the lounge and her legs spread open, she had used a mirror to find and then show me where her "virgin shield" was. She'd just finished minutely inspecting my penis, as she had a number of times since (this had all started a couple of years ago with her inspecting my penis), when she started telling me about her maiden head membrane tissue and that now she could find it easily and did I want to see what it looked like. I'd said sure and had ended up with my face mere inches from her vagina gazing at the folds of moist flesh inside of her*** ****** ***Authors note*** Before readers begin screaming outrage and violation about what went on between Wendy and I, I'd like to point out that Wendy 'never' let me touch her personal areas at any time, NEVER. Most families do not have parents who actually teach their kids about the facts of life (none of many my friends either male or female had their parents explain things to them or so they use to claim) and after I moved to the country (about 16 months later) I discovered that (some) brothers and sisters out there might sometimes share intimate secrets between one another (so several brothers and sisters confidentially told me while I lived there) simply out of naivety or natural curiosity and because they had no one to ask and were afraid to ask their own parents, yet never lead to sex between those family siblings. In fact the bond between some of those sisters and brothers was grew stronger and more understanding and often lead to firm protectiveness for one another with strangers. Wendy's behaviour (and my reactions) never personally hurt me or influenced me in any way although due to a tragic accident I never had to opportunity to experience sex with a woman as a man. To most children sex is an important subject to them. It's a pity that so many parents ignore this and their responsibilities to educate their own children about their bodies. School sex education doesn't necessarily cater for everyone's curiosity or nervousness. In my own case, Wendy's and my actions have had no effect on me either as a child or as an adult - if you tend to ignore that I howl at the moon naked during a full moon! ****** BACK TO THE STORYLINE. . . . . . . . "Gosh, boys don't look anything like that down there, do they," I said stating the apparently obvious as I moved back and sat down beside her. "We just seem to have a penis and balls. And you're telling me that boys put their dicks into that hole. Seems kind of weird to me, but it sure explains why my penis looks like it does and why girls vaginas look like yours and why you have to sit down to go to the toilet." Wendy started to stand up and told me that, one day, I'd probably thank her for all these biology lessons, as she reached for her knickers and put them back on. Although I'd listened very attentively as my big sister explained how she lost her cherry and what it felt like, I have to admit that, back then, I was somewhat confused and mystified as to the whole thing, (ah! the innocence of being pre-pubescent) and besides, I was more concerned with how her skirt and blouse looked on me as I primped myself in-front of the mirror. It use to amaze me back then as to why someone would keep clothes they had long grown out of, but it sure made it handy having the chance to grow into an older sisters clothes as you grew up. The only problem was that sometimes they were out of style and date! "Oh Wend, this skirt simply looks awful on me and I don't like it," I petulantly cried out while I tried somehow to primp and preen my reflection and look pretty in it, but was failing entirely. Wendy came over and looked at my mirrored reflection and said that she might know just how to fix it and told me to take off the skirt because she told me I need to wear something else to go with it*** ***** ***authors note*** If any of you need reminding I'd like to remind you AGAIN of what I wrote near the beginning of the story and that I am a boy. A pre-teenage boy, confident that I don't really have any feminine features! ***** As I slipped the skirt off, Wendy bent down and rubbed her hand softly up and down one of my legs, mumbling to herself, before telling me to take my panties off and stand up straight for a moment. "Now turn around, raise your arms in the air and let me put this on you" Wendy said to me. And with that I felt her fasten a catch behind me and saw a thin piece of white lace material with straps hanging down at the front brushing the inside of my thighs. "Ok now sit back down on the bed and try not to move your legs for a moment. I'm letting you try on one of my suspender belts and see how you look in stockings" Wendy told me, as she placed a rolled up piece of material on the end of my left foot and then slowly worked it up my leg "Now stand up for a moment Steph and let me fasten it to your garter catch." She then reached round behind me and fastened the back of the stocking to the other catch, before repeating all this with my other leg. "Take care and don't snag the material" she advised me, before handing me back my panties and telling me to put them back on again. She then took the skirt and helped me back into it before she hiked it up quite high. "It's a good thing the stockings are a medium size, so wearing the skirt high up won't show your suspenders unless you bend over" Wendy informed me. I hadn't worn stockings before, but I knew that Wendy, her mum and my mum use to wear pantyhose or tights most of the time. All I knew was that the suspender belt tended to make me think that the stockings were dragging them down and when I mentioned this to Wendy, she simply told me to relax adding that they wouldn't fall down. "Do you wear girdles Wend?" I asked her, to which she told me that she tended to wear control briefs, because she had a bit of a bum to hold in, but that her mum wore corsets and often wore one out to go shopping. "Corsets are a pain in the neck to wear" Wendy told me and further added that they made her feel awfully constricted too. "Will I have to wear a corset Wend" I asked her, perhaps with a tinge of curious hope in my voice, to which she laughed and told me that as long as I had a skinny body, I'd never need to wear one, which made me feel a lot better but perhaps strangely disappointed as well (but don't ask me why I thought this - just put it down to blissful naivety!). "Oh! That's a relief" I remarked back with perhaps a tinge of disappointment in my voice causing Wendy to quietly chuckle at my "reluctant" hopes which she had now dashed. "Now all we need to do is make sure that your blouse isn't tucked in and VOILA" she said, leading me back over to look in the mirror for me to see. It made the world of difference. The skirt was now much higher up on my waist than when I'd put it on initially, and the emerald green satiny blouse hanging out instead of tucked in had made the difference. I also noticed that the stockings made my legs look different too. "Now, let's put a little bit of make up on you and see how it all turns out" Wendy advised me. "I've got some new liquid base make up I'm thinking of using so I might just experiment on you first". I was actually quite use to Wendy using me as a makeup guinea pig now and then and had been her test model to try out new makeup tips a fair number of times. One time she even had taken me round to a friend's place and allowed several of her girlfriends to use me to try out new types of looks. I had to look like I hated it and that I was a very reluctant model when they giggled hysterically after showing me the end results. In actual fact I use to love it. Especially the time they made my face up to look like I was an oriental*** ******* ***authors note*** Please remember I did write early on I was just a normal looking boy, thin and scrawny, but a boy none the less. It's just that I liked hanging around with my "sister" Wendy and her friends. Besides . . . . . they (Wendy and her girlfriends) were all bigger than me anyway! ******* Now if you're a guy and you've ever watched TV, you'll know that most people do their makeup in-front of a mirror. But Wend use to always turn me away or make me sit over on the other side of the room, so I couldn't see what changes she was making to my face, until she was finished. And today was no different. First she styled my hair, although this time she used a fair bit of hair spray on me and then proceeded to tell me about the oil based foundation she was trying out on me, explaining that it might make me look a bit more grown up, which she promised me, I'd absolutely adore the end result. All I could tell for certain was that the makeup she was using this time felt very different to the little bit of makeup she usually used on me. "I'm just going to put some eye shadow on you and give you two tone lips and you're done" she told me after about 30 minutes in the chair. As she closed the makeup box and placed it back on the bed, she said I looked really hot, but I needed a pair of shoes to complete the outfit, and she reached into her wardrobe and swiftly brought out a pair of shoes before I could see them. "Now Steph, these shoes are a little bit different to the type that I usually give you to wear, because they have a bit of heel, so I want you to take care and not to move, when I tell you to stand up." She then bent down to slip them onto my feet (and they did feel a bit too comfy for me I thought) and proceeded to buckle the strap up on each shoe. "OK now carefully stand up and hold onto me" Wendy advised me. I stood up and felt a bit unstable, but that was because of the heels which were about 3 inches high (so Wendy informed me). "OK now let's slowly move over to the mirror and check you out" Wendy said as she carefully guided me over. "Little steps Steph and try to make sure you step gently onto the back of the shoe and slowly move your weight to the front of the shoe." "WELL girl . . . . . What do you think, do you like how you look or not?" asked Wendy. O. M. G! I was looking into the mirror, but the face looking back at me was one I didn't even recognize. I was far to stunned to speak and simply stood there and stared at the reflection for about 30 seconds. "Gosh" I finally remarked. "I look like I'm about 15 and look sexy too. Wend, I usually look a lot younger when you put make up on me." I turned around to hug her. "Thanks Sis." I couldn't believe that a plain white skirt and an emerald green blouse could look so stunning and said so to Wendy. She told me that the skirt itself was pretty plain, but that it was hitched up quite high and actually looked like a mini skirt, and with my long filly like legs, (her words, not mine!) the stockings and high heels to go with the makeup. "So THAT"S what made it look so good on me" I asked her. "Take a picture, get the camera, quick." I squealed out excitedly. But Wendy was showing her age and experience and told me to relax, and take a few deep breathes because firstly I needed to learn how to walk in her heels first before I broke an ankle, and she carefully guided me out into the hall way and instructed me to walk to the end of the hall and back a few times to get use to the feel of the shoes. "Now try to carefully move your feet so you actually place them slightly inside of each other when you walk Stephanie" Wendy called out to me. I tried doing this and after about 5 minutes got the hang of moving my feet so they landed in such a way that I could feel the stockings of one leg gently rasp against the other. Wendy was taking a few photos of me as I walked back and forth up the hallway, before she told me we might like to go out to the back yard to try me out for real. "Stephanie, I have to tell you that with those heels and the way you walk with your bottom's jutting out a bit and swaying like a freight train. That's the sexist walk I've ever seen and I've never seen a woman who could do it as well as you." Just then Aunty Ann came in the back door and walked in to find her daughter and some other girl she never seen before. She spoke to Wendy and asked her where I'd gone. I completely panicked and my dear sister didn't help when she said quietly to me "OH CRUMBS, we're in for it now Steph," and she walked towards her mother with me trying to catch up. "Mum, don't freak out, but Steven and I were simply playing dress up" she said as I caught up and stood beside her. Needless to say Aunty Ann didn't think much of the game and told us to both stay in the house and go sit in the TV room and wait for her. As Aunty Ann entered the room, I could tell from the look on her face that all was certainly not well as she demanded that Wendy tell her just what the "blanking" hell was going on, and why I was dressed up as a girl. Wendy started to explain to her mother, that she and I had started playing dress up several years ago for fun and that whenever I came around and everyone else was out, we'd end up playing dress up and that I actually agreed to playing dress up and seemed to have a lot of fun. Wendy didn't tell her mother about any of the biology lessons we'd had and I was certainly not going to because I had never seen my aunty so angry in all my life. But what shocked me and distressed her mother so much was that Wendy started to cry and told her mother about how hard it was to be that only girl in an all boy family and that she missed the opportunity that fate had robbed her of when her younger sister had died within a few weeks of being born and that it simply wasn't fair that the first child they take on as babysitters was a boy too. With the mention of a dead sister (which was news to me too) even Aunty Ann broke into tears and I saw her wilt inside of herself. After about 10 minutes of explaining, her mother was now tending to calm down, but told Wendy and I in a voice filled with concern but considerable understanding that she'd have to apologize to my mother this evening and that I'd probably never be able to come round ever again, and raised her voice to Wendy and told her that my mother may even want to take this matter to the police. "I'll ring your mother now" Aunty Ann told me "and tell her about a situation that has arisen concerning me and that she needs to talk to her tonight about it." After phoning my mum, she then rang her husband at work and told him to pick up the boys at the train station as they home from work and take them out to the pictures this evening, and that she'd explain it all to him later on tonight. When she returned from the phone, she sat back down and looked visibly shaken. "And what do I do about you young man. You're dressed up as a girl, with make up on you, wearing high heels, parading round in public. Hmmm. WHAT are we going to do about you!" I was frozen in fear to the lounge chair as she spoke to me. "Well the first thing we're going to do is to teach you how to sit properly in a short skirt without showing your panties. Now stand back up, sweep your hands behind your skirt and sit back down with your back straight and cross your legs at your ankles so at least you won't be showing off everything to everybody." to which I quickly complied. "That's a LITTLE bit better, but how am I going to face your poor mother tonight and tell her what's been going on, she agonizingly asked me". . . . . . . . I simply wished that at that moment the earth would swallow me up and that would be the end of everything. *************** - This story will take some time to finish and have numerous chapters. You may or may not like it. I have no problems with useful criticism especially if it is offer ideas as to how to improve my writing style for later chapters. I'd like to apologise if my writing style seems somewhat na‹ve (or childish) but it appears (to my way of thinking) that a considerable number of authors on this website adopt a similar prose. My style is NOT a mistake. I am trying to put you in the mind of a young person and often in the first party (thus the conversation way of writing). As I grow up,(curse that big 40) the style will (hopefully) become more mature. Hugs and kisses, Nicole (OES).