20IV FICTION CLASSICS #U
around his hips, he said, "Now you understand why I know how you feel, and the conflicts. Feel free to ask me anything. I've been through it all. You're in for some unique experiences cross-dressing, especially adorable kids like you. Enjoy yourselves, but be careful, especially around men.” I said, "I don't like men, I like girls."
The doctor nodded. "That's fine Chris, but you're a girl for the summer. Trust me, it's better that way, at least in the beginning. I'm married to a girl. The neighbors think we're sisters. But there is no getting around men if you're in skirts and have figures like you're going to sprout."
Before we left the doctor produced a spatula and brushed a preparation on the back of our throats. "This will make your vocal cords tighten and raise your vocal tone."
We left. My mind was in a whirl.
It was a week later when I woke and knew something was different. I felt my tender nipples through the pink nightgown I was wearing. They didn't seem any bigger.
The next morning, I had the same feeling. Then it struck me. No sexual urge. For years, I always woke with a sexual pressure and now it was missing. The sensation seemed dulled down there. It wasn't a bad feeling, in fact I felt great. My body seemed to take on a new awareness-a sensitivity.
My color perception was much more keen as was my sense of smell. I liked sleeping more. I just laid in bed in a euphoric almost intoxicated state playing with my hair.
I asked Lee later about this. He laughed, "I guess we've been chemically neutered and the our maleness put to sleep. We're on our way to being girls for the summer."
My whole body felt differently. More luscious. The next weekend, I was putting on a simple knit dress. As I lifted it over my head, I caught a glance of some extra flesh on my chest. My bra now seemed to stay in place better. It used to have a tendency to ride up.
We started to look feminine even in our male clothes. With the weekly sessions at the beauty parlor our hair shone and stayed curly. We tried to keep our hair looking male but the minute a wind would hit it, instant curls.
One morning, I watched Lee getting dressed for school. He was applying the ointment to his manhood. He said, "You don't seem to be using the ointment the doctor gave us. It's part of the training, you know."
"I don't want to be small, we're men. If you're not careful your going to make it so no woman will ever want you."
Lee was struggling into the tight "Constrictor" for the
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first time. He struggled with the garment for a few minutes. I could tell it was going to be awhile getting used to this new garment. "I don't know about you but dating girls is out of the picture for me this summer and I don't want any bulges showing. I recommend you start on the Constrictor. You're going to look silly at the pool in a skirt."
After he left, I took the tube of ointment and put some in my hand. It felt cool, I applied it to my small manhood. It had a coolness like menthol and got cold on application. The coldness caused everything to shrivel up. I forced my organs up like the doctor showed us, and slipped on a "Constrictor" which held everything in the correct position. I took a deep breath and attached the crotch strap. I was in agony for about an hour before the numbness set in. I guess you can get used to anything, besides, it seemed like the right thing to do. I knew I was now contributing to my feminization, I just didn't think ahead about the consequences.
With each passing day, the mounds on my chest expanded and became more shapely and firm. I began to realize that they were now a part of my body.
From Friday to Sunday we were the cheerleaders. It seemed that the good natured teasing we first got turned into real respect. I guess it was the sacrifice we made, or maybe that we waited on the upper class men like slaves. I tried not to hang around them, but Lee seemed to like it. We would be watching some sport and a guy would say, "Somebody get me a beer."
Lee would jump up and say, "I'll get it, any of you other men want one?" In a few minutes, he'd bring beers, frosted glasses and a snacks for all, serving them on napkins. When they were through he'd clean up.
Most of the time I'd sit there, but often Lee would turn to me and say, "C'mon Chris, help me serve the boys.
There seemed to be a never ending line at our door, asking us for help; like to hem something, or how a certain coat looked with a certain pair of pants. They started treating us like real girls. Lee liked it; I hated it.
Even when dressed as a boy, they would help. Not like a friend, but like a man to a girl. When my car was broken, two of the brothers, Sam and Joe stopped me from fixing it. I could with no trouble, but they wouldn't let me. Joe said, "Chris, let us do that for you and you can fix us some lunch." I fixed them lunch and took it out to them. They were under the car and I saw my reflection in the car window. I was carrying the tray like a waitress and had forgotten to