RELUCTANT PRESS

When they finally sated their passion, they sat up and began to put themselves back together. Pete and I did the same. Cindy gave me a knowing look, and we both smiled.

It's hard for me to believe that I've changed so much in just a month. On September 25 I'd made passionate love to Cindy when we came home from school, then jumped into Pete's Jeep to go cruising for more chicks.

Today is October 23, and I made out with Pete like Cindy used to do to me. My body has no qualms what so ever about the changes. My mind, well, it's difficult. I was a guy for 18 years; suddenly I'm a girl! Thank goodness my body's lust overcomes my brain. I feel guilty for being a faggot over doing Pete, but I know I'm not a faggot. I'm a girl! It's just that my brain still hasn't accepted it.

Of course, I'll do it again and again. Eventually the guilt will fade. It already is starting. I'll be glad.

Journal Entry: October 24, 1997

Today was a first for me. Our mothers took Cindy and I to an exclusive beauty salon.

When Mother registered me with the receptionist, the pretty woman critically examined me. Even though I felt that I looked like a girl in my simple shirt-waisted yellow cotton dress, I was fidgeting and red-faced under her intense gaze. I realized that she knew I had been a boy. This only worsened the guilt I felt.

During the previous night, I had nightmares in which my joyful new girlhood suddenly reversed itself right in the middle of making out with a guy. It was horrible! When I woke up, I was really all mixed up. I knew I was no longer a guy, and that my body responded as a girl's would, but my damned brain refused to accept that simple truth. It stubbornly insisted that I was a boy no matter how my body changed!

When Cindy burst into my bedroom she immediately sensed my dilemma and set about crushing the last stub-

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TWO LITTLE GIRLS

By JENNIFER SUE

born remnants of boyhood by pulling out soft, silky lingerie. My body quickly overwhelmed my bullheaded brain. By the time Cindy helped me finish dressing, I was happily giggling like a school girl.

But now, faced with a stranger who knew about my boyish past, well, I felt the old boyish revulsion for being a sissy burgeoning. I was afraid she'd sneer at me or tease me. But then, much to my relief, she suddenly broke into a broad smile.

"Well, Nicole," she stated with genuine sincerity. "I'm sure that we won't have any difficulty helping you express your blossoming femininity. If you'll please have a seat, I'll let Mr. Bangs know that you've arrived."

Quickly I discovered that Barry Bangs is a decidedly effeminate, bubbly, energetic man. In stereotypical gay fashion, he first graciously kissed our mother's and Cindy's hands before turning to me to clasp his hands to his chest in unfeigned delight at the girlish potential he saw in me.

Smiling broadly, the gaudily-dressed man took my hands and peered intently into my blue eyes. I was really embarrassed by his limp-wristed manner. In fact, I almost bolted as the lisping man lavished praise upon me.

"I must say that you are quite noble in so openly taking a role that our so called enlightened society selfishly deems unacceptable for males. It is quite understandable that you grow anxious when someone discovers your non-girlish past. You show great potential to become a very pretty girl! I don't think we'll have the slightest problem in creating a vivacious, girlish teenage appearance for you."

At that point I was turned over to a trio of waiting women. I found myself the center of a whirlwind of activity.

While the women jabbered incessantly about how pretty they were going to make me, they deftly stripped me to my lingerie before dropping a pink gown over my head. While one washed and conditioned my almost shoulder-length blond hair, a second began manicuring my toe nails, and a third began pouring a hot gooey white substance on my legs, arms, and trunk.

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