As Girly As It Gets - Changed For Good - Part 1

PART 2 | ALL STORY LIST

"Sit down, young man. We are going to have a little talk. You've been coming home with bad grades, staying out late on school nights and even later on the weekends, and giving me a lot of lip for over six months. You're going to be a freshman next fall. How are these report cards going to look on your record? You've got 3 Cs, 2 Ds, and an incomplete and an F in the gym."

"I hate the gym," said Marty.

"Apparently," said his mother. "Well, Marty, that crowd you run with is a bad influence on you, and you will stop seeing them, be home after school by 3:30 and go to your room and study until further notice. If you give me any lip at all over this, the punishments will only get worse."

"Yeah, right! What are you going to do, spank me?"

"Well, Marty, that is an option I had not considered. Thanks for the idea." (Oh great. She's three inches taller than me and outweighs me by at least 50 pounds.)

"That just cost you another point. There are going to be some changes in you, young man."

Marty's Dad had been killed in a car crash two years ago, and he resented not having his father to back him up like he used to. His Dad was a wild kid, and he enjoyed seeing Marty take after him.

He drank and swore a lot and vegged out in front of the TV most all the time when he wasn't at the pool hall. Marty had decided that he was going to emulate his father, dead or alive. His mother had other plans.

"Get your hair cut, Marty, tomorrow. That's an order." He didn't like taking orders.

"No way, mom. All the cool guys wear it long, and I'm not going to turn up looking like a geek." He didn't get it cut either, and he went and had his ears pierced just to spite her and now sported those little studs they give you. 'All right, Mr. long hair and earrings,' she thought.

After dinner, Diane, his mom, told him she was going out to do a little shopping, and she'd be back in about an hour or so, and he had better be studying when she got back. She put on a little lipstick and her jacket and left. Marty saw this as a great chance to try out a new video game on his computer and went upstairs to his room.

She didn't say a thing to him about his not studying. She put her new mortar and pestle up in the cabinet where Marty couldn't reach (he was only 5'3" tall) and left the other stuff in the two bags. When she got home, she came in quietly and heard the video game and thought, all right, you are going to be a changed person by the time you are ready to become a sophomore if you keep ignoring me.

The following day he was his usual hard-to-rise self and barely had time for breakfast and was late again for homeroom. That was the third time this month, and his teacher, Mrs. Brand, was really steamed with him.

He got home at 5:00 O'clock after spending an hour in detention. Diane had hoped he would pay some attention and listen, but he didn't. The changes had already begun, but he hadn't noticed yet. He got out of his clothes and went into the bathroom, and took a shower. He had a gym that day and didn't shower at school. He was afraid the other guys would make fun of him. His height was not the only area in which he was relatively small.

His mom worked 7 to 2 so she could be home when he got there ever since his Dad died. When he went back to his room to put on some clean clothes, he reached into the right-hand corner of his second drawer to get some clean underpants and felt nylon.

What he? "Mom, where are briefs?" he yelled.

"Right there where they always are, Marty." All that was there were seven pairs of satiny spandex panties in various colors.

"Mom, you expect me to wear these?

"Marty, you don't listen to a word I say. You played video games instead of studying like I asked you to last night, and you came home today at five instead of 3:30. That's just the first of the changes if you don't behave." "Well, I'll go without then." "Suit yourself," she said.

He began going without underwear but found, much to his dismay, that he was really getting sore and chaffed from his jeans. In a few days, he was wearing the panties. He'd never felt anything like that next to his skin and, after a few days of relief from the chaffing, decided he actually liked them. They were low cut, so he could still get at his little weeny to pee through his zipper.

Diane knew he never showered at school, so it wasn't a problem. They didn't slow him down much, though. He pretty much stayed the same, except he watched his mouth a little more around his mom. She could see the writing on the wall. She had decided on the method of his punishment, and he just seemed to want to be punished, kept egging her on. A couple days later, she told him that skipping breakfast was no longer an option for being late to school. He would drink his orange juice if nothing else. "Yeah. OK, Mom."

After another weekend of late nights, he found another little surprise in his room. All his pajamas were gone when he came home late Saturday. They had been replaced by three nightgowns, one long with long sleeves (it was still cold, and Diane didn't want him too uncomfortable) and two waltz lengths for warmer weather. He screamed at his mom that he would just sleep in his panties before he would wear a girl's nightgown.

However, after only one night of shivering in bed, he changed his mind and started using the long-sleeved one.

"Mom, this isn't fair."

"Young man, I'm going to see civilized behavior from you, or I will see to it you don't have a choice in the matter, is that clear? You will do a 180-degree turnabout or else!"

He kept his mouth shut, but he still wasn't studying and was still running with his buddies. Being kind and loving hadn't worked since Dan died. She would just have to be hard and dedicated. He managed to get in by 10:30 Sunday night, 30 minutes past his curfew. *All right*, she thought, here we go. Escalation time.

The next morning she reminded him to drink his juice before he flew out the door. He was still late for homeroom. His teacher sent him for a lecture from the principal---again. When he got out of the shower Monday, he found that all his tank top style undershirts had been replaced with something that looked like them but was nylon with lace-trimmed wide straps or with what he had heard called cap sleeves and cut to accommodate breasts.

"Mom, I will not wear these."

"Then go without," she said, just like before. It was still winter. He knew nylon was warm because of his panties and nightgown. He began wearing his camisoles. He was not only warmer than with his cotton tanks, but the camis felt even better than the panties. A week after that, he came home and found his slippers replaced with a pair of girl's slides and a pair of warm fuzzy ones, but he wore the fuzzy ones with his long nightie, and then she got him a heavy nylon robe the same color as the nightie, and he wore that too. Being cold was not something he did well.

He was becoming a little afraid of what his mom would come up with next if he continued in that pattern set by his Dad. Diane could still hear his video games going when he was supposed to be studying. He was still hanging out at the pool hall part of the bowling alley, and his teacher had sent a note concerning her discipline problems with him. Then he decided to rebel against his new slippers.

'I'll go barefoot,' he thought. 'No, I won't, and I know it. It's too cold.' And he began wearing the fuzzy ones again without protest. His robe was now a long, heavy weave nylon one in pink. He hated it, but he wore it because it was warm. It was soft, too, just like the nightie. Unfortunately, Diane had not won this war yet by a long shot.

True, she was trying to humiliate him into submission and become a good boy again, but it wasn't working. Her idea of petticoat punishment was a good one, she thought, but maybe there was a better way or perhaps, a different way.

He was now wearing a nightgown, robe, slippers, and girls' underwear in addition to his long hair and earrings. What else can she do to me, he thought? It was early November when she had reached the limit on bad grades and began her discipline and vitamin C routine. It was a vitamin C (C for 'change') capsule he was getting. Christmas was next week.

Still, Marty was rebellious. For Christmas, he got a new pair of sneakers that looked suspiciously like girl's, a half dozen pairs of knee-high nylon socks (they were actually Jaclyn Smith knee highs), an assortment of the hoop and dangle earrings, and some hair accessories. He also got two pairs of slacks (Cathy Lee) and a couple shirts (also Cathy Lee), and another long-sleeved gown. Not a boy stitch in the bunch.

He was actually grateful for the extra gown because when the one he had was in the wash, he had to wear one of the waltz lengths, and he really hated that as they were not nearly so warm and were awfully feminine. She also got him a nice blazer to wear with the slacks (J.C. Penney women's wear).

Except for the hair stuff, he didn't see the significance of the other things. He didn't know much about clothing, especially the kind he had been wearing lately. He had no idea what side the buttons were supposed to be on. The blazer was a little tight in the waist and loose at the chest, but he figured he'd grow into it. That was what his mother was planning, too, if he didn't shape up and was proceeding on the assumption that he wouldn't.

In addition to his particular orange juice, she began making him take other vitamins. It wasn't worth his time arguing with her about it. He just took them.

'I decided I was fed up and went to an Internet site overseas and got a product called spironolactone that was supposed to block all his testosterone production or at least make it useless. That would make the effect of his orange juice that much more potent and quick-acting.' She was going to have a kinder, gentler son, or else she was going to have a daughter. At this point, she was so angry, she didn't care which way it went.

His birthday wasn't until May. He would be 15. 'Just one more year before my license,' he thought. 'Then I'll get the car and cruise with my buddies for girls.' His grades had improved only slightly due to his mother's discipline, and he was still hanging with that bad crowd. When he brought home another lousy report card in February, she had reached the end of her patience.

"Marty, sit down at my vanity for a minute, dear. Your eyebrows are looking just awful lately."

"What's the matter with them, Mom?"

"Why, they're growing together, dear. You look like you just have one continuous eyebrow. Just let me take a few out, and you'll look much better." "OUCH!"

"Crybaby. Girls have to do this every week. Just hold still. It will only take a couple minutes."

When she was through, Marty's eyes looked more like a 'Mary's eyes, but she didn't let him see them.

'All right Marty', she thought, 'time for stage two. She replaced all his summer clothes with girls. He now had girl's shorts, sandals, scrunchies for his ponytail, girl's tank tops, and several plain and a couple frilly blouses instead of his summer shirts. She also got him a conservative two-piece girl's suit for swimming. He may not wear the top for a while, but he'd have to wear the bottom, and it wasn't much different than men's.

But it was powder blue spandex that would make the least of his little male equipment. However, he didn't know it yet and would not discover them for a while as she put the suit in her own drawer. In March (it had been five months since the orange juice and three since the vitamins), he began complaining that his chest hurt.

Diane said, "pull up your camisole Marty and let me look. She squeezed his nipples.

"Ouch, that hurts, and they seem hard underneath Mom and so fleshy."

"Pull your top-down honey. There doesn't seem to really be anything wrong."

"Are you sick at all?"

"No."

"Well, just keep taking your vitamins and OJ and try to stay well."

'Well, she thought, they are coming along nicely. Pointy pink, soft, enlarged, and tender. Par for the course as I remember. I wonder if he has noticed the other changes? He was putting on a little fat in his hips, and his thighs are beginning to rub at the top, too. 'We'll just see how long you can keep up this rebellion under the influence of civilizing girl juice.'

"Marty, if you won't get your hair cut, I want you to start wearing it higher on your head. It's down to your shoulder blades."

"Aw, mom, Tony Little wears a long ponytail at the nape of his neck."

"That's him, and this is you, young man. Do it."

"No."

"Suit yourself then. You are making your bed, and you will have to lie in it." He didn't know what she meant.

'Damn,' he thought, 'it's a good thing I can wear sweaters or a cover shirt. These things are poking out like breasts.' One night he happened to feel himself up out of curiosity while he was in his nightgown. It was too warm now for the fuzzy slippers, and he was into his gold-colored, open-toed slides with the mid heels.

'Boy, that feels good. I wonder if it feels that way to girls?' It made his nipples stand erect, which excited him even more, and he began to get an erection, only it wasn't much and not even worth playing with. His mom had noticed that his bedsheet didn't have those tell-tale spots in them anymore as of April.

She knew then what one of his birthday presents was going to be. His grades were improving slightly, and he didn't seem to be such a handful lately. She thought, 'I think this running with the tough crowd and staying out late may just go away by itself. He's not going to want to hang with them much longer, or they will discover his cute little budding secrets.' She smiled.

Marty began putting his hair up at the crown when he was home. Mom walked in when he was brushing it after dinner one night and said, "honey, that would really look nice in a single braid. May I show you how?"

"Well, uh, OK, mom, if you want."

So she quickly turned him a little sideways in the mirror she had put up behind his desk and did it slowly enough that he could catch on.

"Now," she said, "doesn't that look nicer than a scraggly ponytail"?

"Yes, I guess so, but I can't go to school with a braid."

"You can wear one at home, though. We'll do another one tomorrow, and I'll help you again, she said as she tied a little red ribbon at the end. "Why the ribbon, mom"?

"They don't stay braided on their own very well."

"Oh. Alright, thanks."

He was now a softer version of the old Marty, and as she looked at him in the mirror with his braided hair, dangle earrings, and budding bosom, she thought, 'this could work out all right for both of us and the school. Hmm!'

She could not help noticing also how he was beginning to fill out his nightgowns. He was becoming soft and round and with a much gentler and less rebellious disposition. 'This is wonderful,' she thought. 'I should have begun this when he was 12.'

From then on, Marty put his hair up in a braid or a tail high on his head and tied it with a ribbon.

He liked the ribbons better than the scrunchies for some reason. Mom now had a better idea of what one of his birthday presents was going to be.

It would be an A cup bra, just a plain white satin one to start. He'd more than fill it by June. He was staying in more now and studying some, but the teachers were still sending notes home on occasion.

She called and spoke to his homeroom teacher, and they had a meeting. Diane told her that she knew how big a handful Marty had been since his Dad died, but she had even worse problems with him at home and proceeded to tell her about the crowd he ran with, his late nights, the pool hall, all of it.

"How have you been handling it, Mrs. Snelling, she asked? "Frankly, the only way I could think of, petticoat discipline."

"Ah, I see, an old-fashioned but tried and true one. I'm an old-fashioned girl myself. Despite his less frequent outbursts, I have also noticed that he seems to be, well, for want of a better term, appearing to be acquiring a feminine figure as well, and his skin and face are changing some too."

"Yes, I'm afraid he pushed me to the wall, and that was my court of last resort to try and change his mind and, if necessary, his body along with it. I was hoping you'd understand."

"I think it is a splendid way to correct an unruly boy. You'll get no problems from me, I can assure you." "That's a relief."

"I think, Mrs. Snelling, you will find it impossible to separate the two; however.. I've noticed that he never allows the front of his blouses, they are blouses aren't they, to be seen?"

"Yes, they are. So far, I've been keeping them just very plain."

"And on assembly days when they are required to come in dressed nicely, those are girl's slacks and loafers, are they not?"

"Yes. He has no others." "Have you got him dressing completely as a girl at home?"

"No. At least not in the way I assume you mean. That has been going according to his lack of response to my wishes regarding study habits, friends, and late hours and I'm still having problems. I fear that he will be in them by mid-summer at the rate he is going through. The summer wardrobe I bought him is totally feminine right down to a two-piece bathing suit, which he will need and want by then."

"Have you noticed how he is carrying his books and the changes in his walk, gestures, and speech patterns yet?"

"Just a little. He actually went out and bought himself a sports bra to hold them in, but I see you still noticed them."

"Well, I have a lot of time to observe things, she said. Those look like camis under his blouses. Most people wouldn't see it if they didn't know him so well. He will have no voice change nor beard now either. And, for that matter, the way he is dressed and with his appearance changes, he is somewhat androgynous and beginning to lean toward our side, I do believe. Are we going to have a new student in our class next fall?"

"I have no idea, Mrs. Brand. Maybe. Or he may want to change schools. We rent, so we can move easily. I did get him a conservative two-piece suit for the pool. And we haven't even thrown cosmetics or skirts into the mix yet."

"I've noticed he has made friends with a couple of the girls and just as friends, Marlene and Brandy."

"Are they nice girls?"

"Oh yes, and good students too."

"Well, maybe that will be a good influence. Let's hope so. Is he hanging out with them some?"

"That's what I hear."

"Good. They aren't stupid. If he has spent any real time with them, they are wise to the new Marty and must like it. That could work in his favor over the summer as his femininity really kicks in."

"Keep me advised, Mrs. Snelling, and I will do the same. If this comes up in a teacher's meeting, it won't be from me, but we will have to handle it. I don't want you to be punished as well."

"Thank you, Mrs. Brand. I really appreciate it. Do keep in touch."