62 -MOTHER'S NEW DAUGHTER

me see what I can do." She giggled at me, but from that day on, mother talked about "girl things" in front of me as if I had never been a boy. She didn't consider me a girl; it was more like there was nothing to hide from me anymore.

I had my own panties to protect from prying male eyes. It was as if the removal of my male clothes had relieved me of all male voyeurism. If I wanted to gawk at panties, all I had to do was lift my own skirt and stare away!

The exotic and arousing aspect of feminine lingerie became commonplace. It was just my underwear, even, with all the dainty ruffles, pretty ribbons, bows, and lovely lace.

I now had the feminine responsibility of keeping my own pretty unmentionables covered up! Mother shared her pretty lingerie with me and we sometimes dressed alike, a "special experience" that only girls normally get to share with their mothers.

I saw a tingle of excitement in mother's eyes as she watched me studying my feminine reflection in the mirror. She was most interested in watching my reaction as we occasionally walked around wearing just bras and panties. I learned about the responsibility and burden of having "breasts" and keeping them covered.

Even Sidney's mother would come out of the bathroom in panties and bra without a thought. The first time, she saw the surprise on my face as I quickly looked away.

"Jesse? Is there something wrong dear?" she asked innocently. "If it's seeing me undressed like this, don't feel embarrassed. Mothers don't let their son's see them wearing lingerie, but we don't need to be so modest with you boys now, do we?"

There was something else I came to realize. Sidney and I were not like other boys. Most were bigger, stronger, and MOST ORDERS ARE SHIPPED WITHIN

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obviously more athletic. I hated the way they acted, so boisterous, scruffy, rowdy, and rude. Sidney and I were not like that. Mother said, "You are such a sweetheart now." I had become so mannerly, quiet, soft, and delicate.

Dressing differently from the other boys had accentuated our differences. I had to admit to being a sissy and effeminate. I no longer had a desire to be like the other boys.

"You're such a doll," I'd hear my mother say when she saw me doing my hair while standing in front of my mirror in a pair of nylon panties with ruffles around the legs and my little white satin bra with the bow between the cups.

Boys didn't wear girl's things, but I did. Yes, I'd become a sissy! I wore girl's blouses, girl's camisoles, girl's panties and slips. I could walk in girl's high heels and wore nylons over my shaved legs like a girl.

I highlighted my soft effeminate features and curled my hair like a girl. My face looked washed out without a light touch of eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, rouge, and blush. I even curled my eyelashes and plucked my eyebrows into expressive high arches like a girl.

To Sidney's mother, I admitted, "I sort of like dressing like this. I'll miss it but I shouldn't do it again." "You little sweetheart," she responded. "Don't you worry about it. There are different kinds of males. Some are masculine and some boys are...well, effeminate, like you and Sidney. Effeminate boys don't have to dress like other boys. You should wear what suits you, effeminate pretty clothes that match your temperament."

"You mean dresses?"

"Well? They certainly look nice on you."

Before I knew it, our vacation was over, but it's effect on me wasn't. We caught our plane and 6 hours later, we were home. My adventure as a girl was over.

WRONG!

AT HOME AGAIN...

That was years ago. After we returned home, I went up to change. I burst into tears when I saw my drab male clothes waiting. Mother and I had a long tearful talk. "I was afraid of this," she admitted.

By now most boys would have been running for their