How I Became a Girl

It felt fabulous and exciting wearing her lingerie. Before I could speak, she
had taken a pair of pink leather high heel pumps from her closet and pushed me
back on the bed. Slipping the pumps on my feet she pulled me up. I rocked
uneasily in the shoes. Cindy giggled and said “You will need a little
practice walking before you can sway your hips the way I do darling.”

The last vestige of my manhood seemed to be disappearing. I really didn’t
care though. It felt good being a girl. I wanted Cindy to tell me again how
cute I looked and how beautiful I was as a girl. Cindy rushed to the closet
and took down the most fabulous pink dress I had every seen. “How do you like
it?” she asked. I could not answer tears were filling my eyes. Cindy
squealed and hugged me tight saying “I bought it especially for you last week
I was hopping you wanted to be a girl. I’m so glad I was right about you.”
The dress was stunning — lacy soft puffed sleeves with a gathered crepe
bodice. Three tiers of lace for the generous skirt sashed at the waist. Once
wearing the dress I felt just a princess.

Cindy sat me down at her dressing table, applying a liquid foundation to my
face. She followed this with eye shadow, liner and mascara to my already
almond-shaped eyes. She then rouged my cheeks and painted my lips a very hot
pink. It was hard to believe that the reflection in the mirror was actually
me. Cindy teased my long dark hair for half an hour before she had it styled
the way she wanted it. She applied a spray net and my transformation was
almost complete. Patting my shoulder she commented “Beautiful aren’t you
Stephanie.” The jewelry she chose for me consisted of a strand of perfectly
matched pearls and a pair of pearl ear rings. She said the ear rings were
just temporary until she could pierce my ears for the diamond studs she would
buy me later. Kissing me she slipped her tongue into my mouth. Frenching me
so that it took my breath away with excitement. Breaking the kiss she said
“C’mom, lets have a beer down stairs. We can have a little girl-talk before
the other arrive.” I had forgotten that this was suppose to be a party.