A Boy With Girly Hair - Part 3

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Chapter 6

Mrs. Reed looked at her watch. By now it was past noon. "Hungry, dear?" she asked as she rose from the sofa.

"A little."

"I can make us a salad. Do you like salads? You never did much as Michael. It was always meat, meat, meat."

Michelle smiled, "If I ate as I did then, I'd weigh 200 pounds. A little later. Okay."

"You certainly got along nicely with William as you two walked together. You didn't seem worried about being seen with him."

Michelle wasn't thinking about their walk but answered her mother. "Mom, I WAS worried, but mostly about being recognized."

"Did you enjoy yourself with William in the Park? I thought you two got along wonderfully, you leaning against his arm, being so close to him."

"Mother! What choice did I have?" Michelle explained using her hands to express herself. "I wasn't a happy camper, not at first, not with feeling naked with a dress on, my feet hurting, and a bra that dug into my skin every time I moved."

Mrs. Reed looked surprised at the reaction. "And during the ride home?" she asked.

"Mom, HOW COULD YOU," Michelle exclaimed now playfully. "You know, let Will have his way with me. We made out like Rhesus monkeys. I'm almost embarrassed to talk about it even today. After all, it was my first day as a girl and I was already smooching with a boy and one a lot older than me. Didn't you two think that was strange?"

"No, don't think we did. Carole and I talked about the possibility. She knew her son. I figured you might as well have your first kiss there and then. Don't worry, we were keeping a watch on you two, just to be sure."

"Sure of what?"

"Sure you two didn't go too far?"

"I almost went too far, too far in my panties. I was so turned on when Will got under the dress that I nearly had an accident."

"How did you feel about Will coming on to you?"

"First I was scared, then seems I went on autopilot and forgot that I was a 14-year-old boy. It all seemed so natural, I guess. Looking back, my only regret is that I had to wear that outdated dress and that I was so small on top. At least you could have given me bigger boobs. If I had to look like I did then, I would give up being a girl forever."

"Now, Sweetheart, you weren't that small. After all, you were only 14," Mrs. Reed said. A minute later in a serious tone of voice, she put her hand on her daughter's knee. "Would you mind? if you want... show me your breasts. I saw them when you first started on hormones when they were really small. You look so well-developed. Are they really looking? I mean do the hormones produce real-looking ones?"

"Mom, of course, they look real and they FEEL real." Michelle slowly slid the thin straps off her shoulders and rolled her top down a few inches under her bosom. Motherly like, Mrs. Reed unclasped her son's bra and slid it off. Michelle breathed in deeply as he faced his mother. Reed's fingers became alive as they brushed against her son's cheek, moved over his jaw, and slid down his neck, into the scooped neckline of the purple knit top. Her feminized son shivered as a red fingernail penetrated under the scalloped trim, sliding deeper, probing the lacy bra to the boundary of the fleshly mound beneath. Michael sighed a long, "Our Mommy, that feels so good."

"Son, they're beautiful. I didn't realize how lovely they would be."

Michelle exhaled a long sigh. "Thank goodness you're big, which means I'll be too. Aren't they lovely! I just love to caress them, especially when I bathe, and of course, my sweetheart just can't get enough of them. How he loves to suck them. There," Michelle moaned as her mother's fingers probed her bosom, moved into the recesses of her bra, caressing each breast, moving from one to the other. Mrs. Reed leaned forward and placed both hands on both her daughter's breasts, molding them in a soft gentle way, not like men, who think they're kneading dough, but in a way, only women know.

"It's a good thing you didn't have these when you first became a girl."

"Who says?" Michelle asked playfully.

"I'm not sure you could have handled that much of a girlish figure. After all, you had a lot to learn about being a girl and not much time to learn."

Michelle adjusted her weight and readjusted her bra and top. "Go ahead, Mom  you can continue."

Mrs. Reed cupped the right breast in the palm of her hand. Gently she began rolling the eraser-sized nipple between her fingers. Michelle shifted her body again and steadied herself with an arm on the ridge of the couch. Visibly her breast began to swell. Leaning towards her mother, the boy-girl savored the loving fingers as her nipple enlarged and sprouted up from heaving mounds of flesh.

" Michelle sighed loudly. 

Mrs. Reed was enraptured by her son's exquisite breasts: so firm, so shapely, and so warm to the touch.

Michelle closed her eyes. "It's a good thing," she said in a labored voice, "I started on hormones when I did," she panted, "or else my aureoles. nipples wouldn't swell like they do now."

Michelle twitched as her mother tweaked his puffy nipples. She shivered as if being held down by someone pricking the bottom of his foot with a pin.

"Oh, Mom, you're really turning me on. I... think you... better stop... or ... well ... Mom... you know. I just might make a mistake in my white slacks."

Mrs. Reed saw the heaving mound between her daughter's legs. "Yes, dear. In a minute. In a minute."

Michelle was in seventh heaven. She recalled her mother's tender touch as she dressed her years ago how her mother's fingers touched her face, how she gathered the hair from her head and shaped it over her fingers, and how she would massage her budding breasts. She couldn't deny her mother this small bit of pleasure; nor would she deny herself. By now Michelle was breathing hard. Thank goodness for the ceiling fan.

Michelle placed her hands on her mother's. "Mom, I'm about ready to come in my panties."

"You can still come like a man?" Mrs. Reed breathed heavily.

"Yes, Mother. And I'm about to."

Mrs. Reed's fingers stopped, and Michelle fell back into the couch. Panting, she caught her breath.

"Sorry, dear, I just couldn't help it... you're so beautiful."

"My pleasure, Mom; it's the least I can do for you. Mom, you and Carole really enjoyed dressing me as a girl, didn't you?"

"Yes, darling, we did. I remember you looked like a little school girl, even younger than your 14 years. With your hair combed so girl-like, in makeup, and in a skirt. I can't tell you how... how excited it made me, feel."

"You mean excited like a woman gets excited?"

"Yes, son, excited like that. And Carole, too. That evening, when you were with Will, we both were imagining you two doing all the things a girl and boy do together. I swear, both our panties were soaking wet. You know, son, women have a hard time, too, when they get aroused. Seeing my little boy look so much like a cute schoolgirl and Will acting so schoolboyish, even at his age, was almost more than I could take. What part of being a girl was most exciting for you, dear?"

Michelle thought for a while. "Most exciting, Mom, I think it was when I was all dressed and with a boy. I just felt so much like a girl that I couldn't help but want to make out. And, when I was making out, I such got hard. I was afraid IT would reach all the way to the dress and stick out. I guess you and Carole had planned that outing with Will."

"Of course dear. We remember your first date with Jeff. You looked beautiful!"

Michelle caught her breath. "SURE DID, Mom, being with Jeff was scary, but my first date with Jeff was really something else, but first we had to talk."

Chapter 7

Saturday morning Michael was lying in bed thinking about the other night, thinking about how it felt to be a girl, about how it felt to be a girl with a guy. Clearing his eyes, he looked at the girl-clothes neatly folded on the chair. There was the yellow dress... the bra... the socks... the shoes. On his dresser laid the necklace and rings. Something wasn't right. Here he was a boy, and he was thinking about his experiences with a man.

"Jeff," he said to himself, "I gotta see Jeff."

As Michael dressed, he became aware of how easy and quick it was for him to be a boy rather than a girl. It seemed to take forever to get dressed as a girl but only a few minutes as a boy. Anyway, boy's clothes are sure a lot more comfortable than girl's clothes, he told himself. Other thoughts, however, kept popping up the haunting memory of the softness of his panties, the air under his dress, and the almost painful feeling of a bra across his chest... lots of those memories filled his head, which he fought off long enough to be a boy again. Those memories of being a girl and making out with Will filled his mind.

"How could I?" Michael repeated over and over. In the mirror, he saw his medusa locks that screamed, 'I'm a girl. With a lot of combing and smoothing, he finally had his familiar ponytail.

Michael sat by the garage door until finally, he saw Jeff riding down the road on his bike. Peddling as fast as possible, he caught up with his friend.

"Jeff, Jeff. Hey guy."

"Mikie, you're a boy again."

Michael called out as loud as he could, "I WAS JUST GOOFIN AROUND. LIKE WE ALWAYS DO."

"Cool," Jeff called over his shoulder as the two rode side by side. "Hey, let's ride to the river."

"Yeah, let's do it."

Off the two boys rode to a path that led into the forest preserve. The road was narrow, just wide enough for a bike. And dangerous with overgrown branches along with the path and tree roots that could tip over a bike. Both boys had been down the path many times, so they raced as fast as they could, feeling invincible to danger. Now it was downhill, legs sticking out, peddles whirling uncontrollably. Both boys were experiencing the energy and strength of a teenage boy's body. Michael was glad to be a boy again. "Girls can't ride bikes that fast," he yelled to himself. At a bridge, Jeff and Michael squeezed their breaks to a stop. Quickly they slid off their bikes as they had seen motorcyclist do. Neither boy wanted to go over the bridge too fast and bang up against the metal railing. After walking their bikes over the bridge, they followed a path that became darker and darker as it wound through the thick woods.

"Phew... phew." Both boys panted heavily as they peddled up a hill. One more hill to the picnic grounds. Neither one wanted to suggest a break, though both wished the other would drop his bike and plop down.

"Hey, Jeff, just like old times," Michael panted.

"Yeah, like old times," Jeff repeated as they trudged up the hill.

Getting to the top of the hill was like in the movies when a weary party of hikers finds Shangri La. Ahead of them was a cut field of grass, a blazing sun, and people in the distance.

"Just like old times," Jeff said again.

Finally, they reached the spot where they always ended up. Both boys dropped their bikes on the grass and fell on their backs.

"Phew..." Michael said. "It's sure fun being a boy again. Like before."

Jeff rolled on the grass next to him. "Didn't you like being a girl? Mom said you and Will had a nice time."

"Well, being a girl was sorta fun, but not always."

"And did you like being with my brother?"

"It was okay. You're right, your brother likes to talk a lot."

"Is that all, just talk?"

"Just about all we did!" Michael said, choking back the truth. The mere mention of Will's name brought back memories that Michael had been trying to suppress.

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"Why didn't you come with us?"

"Cause."

"Cause why?"

Jeff rolled over on his back. "I figured he had the stuff to tell you. Did he?"

"Not much... nothing special."

Jeff was quiet for a while. "I bet you looked about as cute as the Buff," he said, turning to his friend.

"Hardly! But I wish I could fight like her. You know, Jeff  you won't laugh but I even went to the Ladies Room."

"NO!"

"Yeah, really. It was no big deal except it was full of women and girls, but you can't see them doing anything cause it's all stalls."

"You're really brave!" Jeff exclaimed.

"I guess so."

"I could never do it, be a girl," Jeff said.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool, scary, too."

"Did your brother tell you about it?"

Jeff shook his head, "Na, he didn't say a thing, which made me think you guys either had a great time or a terrible time."

"It was just something different. Fun, but not fun like we're having now. Not super fun or anything like that."

"You know my brother is really interested in you."

Michael shrugged, "Yeah, I know, but I'm thinking he likes me just cause I'm a girl. Not like you. You like me for being me." Michael was surprised at his own words. Surprised he was able to express his feeling so well.

"What did ya do there? At the Pier?" Jeff asked.

Michael had to think. Not a good idea to tell the whole truth. That's another girl trait he was learning. "Walked and talked... talked and walked, mostly."

"Yeah, that's my brother, he likes to talk a lot. I wish I'd been there to see you dressed like a girl."

"Ya coulda come if you wanted. Right?"

"Yeah, but. but"

"What if I cut my hair and didn't even think about girl things? Would you still like me?" Jeff put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Of course, guy, we've been friends a long time. You being a girl doesn't make any difference with me."

"Would you miss my long hair?"

Jeff made a face. "Well, I think so. It's like my brother when he ahead First you miss it, and then you don't. I don't think anyone would recognize you if you had short hair."

"And Will, would he like me if I cut my hair and wasn't a girl?" Michael listened intently.

Jeff thought a moment. "You'll have to ask him."

That was about as heavy a conversation as the two boys ever had. Too heavy for Michael. "You know tomorrow is Buffy, and I'm going to dress really nice for you like a girl... if you want me to. Do you?"

"Sure! Cool!"

Both boys became animated talking about Buffy. "I know. I can hardly wait. What's the episode?"

"It's about the She-Maniatis. You know where Buff's teacher is killed and this killer-cute sub takes over the class and she captures Xander so she can mate with him and the Buff kills her."

"Oh Yeah! That's a cool one."

For several hours the boys talked and bicycled around the paths. Michael nearly took a tumble, being distracted by thoughts of how he would look for Jeff tomorrow.

As Jeff veered off to his house, he called "SEE YEAH TOMORROW AT SEVEN."

"YEAH," Michael called back.

Michael could barely sleep that night thinking of his first date with Jeff. Date! Did he say date? More and more Michael caught himself thinking in terms of dating. Maybe Will was right when he said it was fun sometimes being a boy and sometimes being a girl.

Michael caught his mother going into the kitchen. "Mom... could I ...could I ... you know, look really nice for Jeff?"

"Of course, dear, but we better start early."

That morning Michael sat down with his mother hovering over him, anxious to start the transformation. He'd washed his hair and conditioned it as instructed. Mrs. Reed covered her son with a cape and arranged her supplies on the table.

"Here hold these," she said as she dropped a pile of wire mesh hair curlers into his lap. "We'll start at the front, then the sides, and finally the back."

Quickly Mrs. Reed began to comb her son's damp hair. Michael could feel his mother combing a section of hair and holding it straight out up from his scalp. Squirt, squirt.

"What's that, Mom?"

"Setting lotion. With your long hair, we'll need lots of it."

Squirt, squirt.

"Roller, please."

Michael gingerly picked up a roller with two fingers and handed it over his shoulder to his mother...

"Now I'm smoothly and tautly winding a section of hair around the roller."

Michael felt a bobby pin slide against his wet scalp, securing the curler.

"I'm pinning the roller on the bottom, attaching the first roller with a pin at the base of the curler."

Section by section was combed and rolled, with the second roller to the first one and so on and so on. Michael soaked in the new sensations the wetness, the combing, the winding, the hard cylinders against his scalp, the tautness all breathtaking new. Finally, Mrs. Reed was winding curlers at the base of her son's neck, little ones.

"All done! One day, dear, you're going to have to learn how to set your own hair. We'll keep these in as long as possible. Now no playing with the curlers."

Michael rushed to the bathroom to view his curler-covered head. Tilting his head to see himself from every angle, Michael viewed the rows of hair, one after another, side by side, thick curlers of hair. "Wow!" he exclaimed to himself. "I wonder what it'll look like when Mom combs it out!"

"Mom," he called, "what am I going to wear?"

"Don't worry. I have an outfit picked out for you."

"An outfit." More and more the concept of outfits was becoming more important to the young boy.

"How does your first roller set feel, dear?" she called.

"I like it very much."

"Now, go outside or your hair will never dry."

It was another hot day. Michael relaxed on the back deck, under an umbrella. He lay down on a chair. "Oh." His neck rested on the top of the chair, right on a curler. He tried another position and another. Nothing helped. Finally, Michael moved to the patio table, pulled up a bench, sat down, and rested his face in his arms. His wet hair seemed to cool off his entire body. There he rested, trying to picture how he'd look on his first date with his best friend. Michael could feel the heat dying his rolled-up hair, drawing even tighter the curlers against his scalp. Again and again, he felt them. A warm breeze was blowing and he could feel his hair drying. Michael luxuriated for hours under the patio umbrella, taking only a brief break to eat, to reexamine himself in the bathroom mirror, and then to resume his idle thoughts.

"Michael, Michael, time to get ready," his mother called. "We've only three hours. First young man, it's a hot bath. Not a shower, but a bath, then your makeup, and then we get you dressed. Hopefully, you'll be ready by seven."

'Three hours,' Michael thought, 'that was enough time to get dressed ten times twenty times as a boy.'

"You know dear, young ladies remove the hair from their arms and legs."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, so I'm leaving by the tub some Nair Hair Remover. Just apply it to your arms and legs, leave it one for a few minutes, and wipe it off. Understand?"

"Uh-huh."

"Don't just uh-huh me. I don't want to find one hair on your arms or legs, understand, young man!"

With that instruction, Mrs. Reed moved behind her son. "I'm going to put on this shower cap to keep your hair dry." Michael knew the repetition of 'young man' meant his mother was serious, so following his mother's orders, he spread the Nair on his arms and legs. Waited. Then washed it off, and off came the hair. Cool, Michael said to himself; almost miracles. Next, he shaved the peach fuzz on his face. Within the allotted time, Michael dutifully presented himself with outstretched arms before his mother.

Mrs. Reed felt the smoothness of her son's arms and cooed a note of approval.

"Now the legs."

Michael opened his robe for his mother to inspect his legs. "Very good, dear. If you're going to be a girl, you're going to have to keep your body free from hair. Now, let's get your face made up."

Michael moved to the kitchen table. Mrs. Reed delighted in the ritual of doing her son's face, something she longed to do for a daughter she never had.

"First we apply a foundation." Michael's mother enjoyed hearing her words as if she was passing her womanly skill on to a blossoming daughter. "I'm using a slightly damp makeup sponge just a little, working down from the forehead, over the nose cheeks, and chin..." Mrs. Reeds said as she dabbed the sponge to evenly apply the ivory-colored foundation on her son's face.

"Now your eyebrows." Skillfully she redrew her son's eyebrows, penciling in a pleasant light brow arch that started from the corners of his eyes until the outer tips. "Hold still, dear," she said as her son twitched from the still novice sensation. "Now for the eyelash curler... steady... good," she said as the second lash was pressed into the jaws of the curler and released.

"Mom, isn't this going TOO far?"

"Michael, or should I say, Michelle, you did say you wanted to look super. Anyway, as a boy, you need a little more preparation than a teenage girl would need."

The now enthralled boy stared straight into his mother's face, examining every centimeter of her face as she brought a mascara brush to his eyes and brushed blue color, to match her son's blue eyes, on both the top and bottom sides of her son's upper and lower lashes. "We'll apply a second coat after this one dries. Now for lining for your upper lashes, there we go... Good! Dear, you ARE going to make an impression on your friend. Trust me."

"Really?" Michael said. "But, Mom. I don't want to make TOO much of an impression."

Mrs. Reed didn't miss a beat. "I think we'll use the... the pale pink... that's about right for a girl your age."

"Mom, in case you haven't forgotten, I'm your son, not your daughter."

"Okay, dear. I should say, 'I'm not sure what is right for a boy your age.' Better?"

Lo 

C G at her watch, Michael's mother relaxed. They were right on time.

Michael squirmed in his chair, anxious to see himself, and his mother knew it.

"Michelle, we just don't have time for you to be looking in the mirror."

Michael repeated the name. "Michelle?"

"If you're going to be a girl, then use a girl's name."

Taking her son by the hand, she led him to her room to the edge of her bed.

"Here's an outfit that I hope you can wear. You really DO need to decide after tonight whether or not you want to continue dressing up as a girl, because if you do, we need to get you some clothes of your own. Understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Now into these," Mrs. Reed said holding in her hand a pair of white-white French-cut briefs.

Michael looked at the panties in disbelief. What WAS he getting himself into?

"Michelle, we don't have much time, so let's hurry along," Mrs. Reed said in a determined voice, as she held the briefs between the fingers of her two hands and flexed the lacy band.

"Michelle, I AM your mother, so don't be embarrassed... Please hurry, Michelle."

Michael slowly removed his robe and slid it off his body. After a brief hesitation, he slides his thumbs into his shorts and slides them down to his feet where his mother helped him step out of them. As his mother held the panties open, her son stepped into the leg openings and pulled them up, his hand momentarily fondling a little bow in the center of the panties.

"You know, I'll be surprised if Jeffrey can keep his hands off you," she said lightheartedly.

"Now this," Mrs. Reed said helping her son into a white bra, one appropriate for a young girl, simple but with a little lace along the top of the cups and fully padded. With the customary pulling and positioning Mrs. Reed managed to declare it a perfect fit, which she knew as a woman was a next to an impossible accomplishment. Carefully she pulled a black velvet stretch top over the mass of curlers that helmeted her son's head, stretching the ribbed trim over curler after curler. Michael next stepped into a back-zip gray/green plain skirt, one that reached a mere four inches above his knees.

All aglow with a sense of satisfaction, Mrs. Reed ushered her son into walking in a circle as she examined his appearance. "Very nice, dear." A pair of laced top ankle sock and a low-heeled pair of Mary Janes and her son was the perfect picture of the girl Mrs. Reed had designed.

"We'll just have time to get your hair done," Mrs. Reed said as she sat her son down. "You're going to be quite a curly top after we're finished," Michael's mother said as she began removing the curlers, one by one, leaving the vertical columns of stiff hair in place until her young son's face was framed with brownish blond spirals of hair. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen long ringlets dangled around the young boy's shoulders and back. Each coil is perfectly formed. "Son... you look... just ravishing for so young a person. If I were a boy your age, I couldn't keep my fingers out of hair as pretty as yours."

"MOM, do ya think he'll like the way I look?"

"Darling, I just hope he doesn't like you TOO much."

Michael raised his hand to touch his hair.

"Tttsss... no dear, we don't want to play with your curls. That's for the boys to do. OH, MY look at those nails!"

A minute later Michael was holding out his red fingernails to dry, as a pianist is about to play the piano.

"Now you can look at yourself," Mrs. Reed said, shooing her son off to the mirror. "What do you think, son?" his hovering mother said as she saw the gleam in her son's eyes.

"WOW, MOM! I... look... really like a girl."

"Do you like your hair, son?"

Michael had never seen a hairstyle like this one.

"It's kinda scary."

"How so?"

"Cause it looks..." Michael swallowed hard. "Looks REALLY girlish."

"Michael, dear, that's the point. A girl who wears her hair like this is tempting boys to touch it, teasing them to do what they know they shouldn't do."

"Oh, Mom, please." Michael nearly whined out the words.

"You know how Will behaved the other day."

"MOM, in case you have forgotten, I'm a boy."

"Here, look dear," Mrs. Reed said, standing her son in front of a full-length mirror. "Look at yourself, dear, are you a boy? Wouldn't you like to pull your fingers through such pretty hair, wrap those curls around your fingers and kiss that pretty mouth?" Mrs. Reed went on in a hypnotic voice. "I think Jeffrey would love to kiss such a pretty girl, don't you?"

Michael just shrugged a little shrug, being left speechless.

As the two of them moved to the family room, Mrs. Reed continued to seduce her son using all the psychology she could remember.

"Now, dear, I want you to sit still and think about what it would be like for you to REALLY, REALLY be a girl; to pretend so much that you can't even remember what it was like as a boy; to behave exactly how you think a girl your age would behave, especially with her boyfriend."

"Yes mother," Michael said as an obedient daughter.

Michael waited anxiously for his friend. He halfway wanted Jeff to laugh at him that would put an end to girls' clothes and hairdos and any of his mom's talk of being a girl. Michael had promised himself that if his friend laughed at him, looking anything like a girl was OUT. But, on the other hand, Michael felt a strong desire to continue being a girl no matter what. The minutes seemed like hours as the restless boy waited for his best friend. All the while Mrs. Reed popped in to reassure him that he looked 'darling'.

With the doorbell Mrs. Reed greeted Jeff. While at the door, she called, "Michelle, I'm going to Carol's, so if you need something just give me a ring."

"Oh, Jeffrey," Mrs. Reed said putting her on his shoulder, "your boyfriend wanted to look especially nice for you tonight. Boys, I'll be back in an hour with Carole. Bye."

"Hey, guy."

"Hey," Michael called back.

Jeff's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. "MIKE... WOW!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw his friend.

"You like the look?" Michael said as he got up and turned an awkward turn, trying to flair out his skirt.

"DO I!"

Michael's spirits rose at his friend's overwhelming approval. "Man! You look like something out of a girl's fashion magazine."

"Mom said she could do better if we had more time, but you know we only had a short time I mean, for a girl, it was short, but you know for a"

"No kidding, you look super," Jeff said as he sat down on the couch next to his friend. To break the ice, Michael turned up the TV volume. Buffy came on. the familiar music, the same opening scenes, and the two boys relaxed.

"Into each generation, a Slayer is born"

Jeff begins the lines originally said by Giles. "One girl, in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with"

Michael finishes, playing the part of Buffy, "The strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of evil, blah blah. I've heard it, okay?"

Announcer: "Like werewolves, zombies, succubi, incubi, everything you ever dreaded was under your bed and told yourself couldn't be by the light of day."

"Sounds like what's been going on around here," Michael joked.

Jeff agreed. "My house, too."

The episode was a rerun but both boys agreed it was one of their favorites. "The Buff is so cool," both boys repeated several times. With the ice broken both boys continue their conversation over the dialogue in the movie. "Buffy is so cool," they both agree every time she appeared.

"Is this Wilma's?" Jeff asked, picking at the black velvet top Michael was wearing.

"Don't know. Maybe."

"How does it feel?"

"Soft. Feel," Michael responded.

Jeff touched the shoulder. "Wow! It is soft."

"Don't get fresh, Jeffrey," Michael laughed. "Remember I'm really a young girl, about a week old."

Both boys were all giggling.

Michael kept up the joke. "And don't touch you know what."

"What?" Jeff asked.

Michael pointed to the mounds on his chest. "These. My boobies."

Again more laugher.

"They look real," Jeff said.

"Really? Real padding," Michael chuckled.

The bra was clearly on Jeff's mind. "How does it feel, wearing a bra?"

"Tight. Kinda weird. Every time I wear it, I keep bumping into it, with my arms and hands. And when I reach for something or bend down or lay down they're in the way."

"Cool!!" Jeff said using his favorite word. "Looks real."

"It's a real bra with real padding, Kleenex."

Michael's throat was already dry. "Wana coke?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get 'em," Michael said, getting up during a commercial. Without thinking, Michael tried to imitate a girl walking. Ladylike he sat down about an arm's length from his friend, smoothing his skirt. Jeff saw his friend painted nails as he handed the cold can of coke to him.

"Did your mom do your nails?"

"Uh-huh. Like em?" he asked spreading his fingers out before his friend.

"Cool."

The boys sipped their Coke. Of course, every time Michael moved his head, a long curl would fall over his face, and he'd have to push it to one side. Over and over again, he constantly brushed aside stiff coils of hair.

With only a cursory glance at the TV screen, the two boys continued their conversation. Michelle sipped a sip and spoke, "You don't think I'm weird for letting my mom fix my hair this way? She didn't comb it out. Just took out the curlers."

"Nah, you look fine," Jeff replied and the boys leaned back into the sofa and looked scantly at the TV screen. Jeff though couldn't keep his eyes off his friend the long curled coils of hair the red fingernails the blacktop stretched ever so tight the grey-green short skirt. Jeff could hardly pretend to watch the program.

Giles: "Dig a bit into the history of this place and you'll find there's been a steady stream of fairly off occurrences. I believe this area is a center of mystical energy. Things gravitate toward it that you might not find elsewhere."

Buffy: "Like death."

Buffy. "What did you send away for the Time-Life series."

Giles: "Uh, yes."

Buffy: "Did you get the free phone?"

Giles: "The calendar."

"She is so cool," the boys repeated again.

Jeff finally turned his eyes to the TV. "Buffy always got great clothes."

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. "Not like this old stuff I gotta wear."

"Your clothes look good. A nice skirt and everything," Jeff said as he bend down to look at it. "I think I remember this from Wilma."

"Guess so," Michael answered. "Mom made me remove the hair from my legs and arms before putting on the clothes, so I'd be smooth."

"Even from places, you can't see?" Jeff asked.

Michael shifted his weight, sitting on one leg for a minute, then the other, "Sure, cause Mom says, I better not say... what Mom says."

Of course, Jeff was really curious now. "Com'on tell me."

Michael crossed his legs, with one on top of the other. "You know, moms can be weird, but she said, 'boys like the feel of smooth legs."

By now Jeff was drooling; it was so obvious. What could Michael do but accommodate his best friend? "Wanna touch them?" Michael said as he turned off the end table light. Now the room was lit by only the TV. Jeff touched his best friend's leg. Slowly, ever so slowly moving his hand, to Michael's knee where it remained. "Yeah... you are smooth."

"Yeah, Mom wanted me to really look like a girl for you. You know, to see if I liked being a girl."

Jeff soaked up every word. "And... and do you?"

"Guess so, so far. It's sure different than dressing like a boy. You know with a bra and panties."

"Wow! Do you mean your mother even made you wear panties? Man! She's really into this girl- thing."

Michael almost was offended. "Of course panties. You can't dress like a girl without panties. Anyway, they're really soft."

"Can... can I see... see them?" Jeff asked, swallowing hard.

Michael hesitated. He didn't want to seem too anxious to show off. Slowly he lifted his skirt and pulled it up to expose himself. No boy could resist touching such pretty pink panties with a little bow in front and lace around the waist and legs.

"They're really soft," Michael said softly. "As soft as my legs."

Jeff swallowed hard. "Can I touch them?"

Michael nodded, "Just a little."

Jeff moved his hand to the edge of the panties. Michael could feel his heart race as he stared at his friend's fingers probing the panties. Without thinking, Michael spread his legs, and Jeff's fingers slid under the elastic band and hesitated. A tingle raced through Michael's spine, all the way from the top of his head to his toes, like a tiny electrical current. It almost hurt it felt so exciting. Clearly, he enjoyed being touched by his friend. Michael's maleness stiffened something fierce like it was being pumped up with a bicycle pump, growing bigger and bigger. The discomfort was to the point of hurting. Slowly the expanding organ began to bulge through the silk panties, forming a clear image. Michael wondered if Jeff was going to ask if he could hold his manhood, and he wondered if he would let him.

"Oh, God!" Michael wanted to cum so badly; he felt he was about to explode any second. He was certain that if Jeff just touched him there, he would shoot a massive load into his pretty panties.

The noise at the door was their mothers. Both boys straightened themselves up. Michael smoothed his skirt, only to notice a still visible lump that had to be adjusted.

"You boys having fun?" Mrs. Reed asked as she entered the room.

The boys turned their attention to the last scene of the episode when Giles, Buffy, Xander, and Willow burst into a club called the Bronze to rescue those inside from attacking vampires.

"Oh, isn't he darling," Mrs. Philips gushed when she saw Michael. "And those curls. Carole, you outdid yourself... Let me see, Michael."

The ladies sat down, and Mrs. Reed coaxed her son up to model in from of them.

"Oh, those curls. I can hardly resist pulling at them," Mrs. Philips gushed.

"You gave him a little more on top than the other day. Didn't you Jean?"

Mrs. Reed smiled at her son. "Michael wanted to be bigger, like the other girls his age. You know how boys are about breasts. Anyway, it's easy when all you need is tissue paper."

"Speaking of tissue paper and breasts," Mrs. Philips said, "Did I ever tell you the story of when I had a date with Larry Ward?"

Mrs. Reed shook her head. "No, don't think so."

"It was the first year of high school and I went out with this boy. I think he was a senior. Very scary for me, to date a senior. Anyway I was stuffed with tissue, and he had a runny nose, and I was looking all over the car for tissue, in the glove box, under the back seat, in my purse. Anyway, couldn't find any. So best I could, while he was driving, and with me watching him real well, I slipped some tissue out of my bra and gave it to him. So he uses it all up and asks for me. I was beginning to feel like a napkin dispenser. So I have to go again into the bra for more. Anyway, to make a long story short, by the time we got to where we were going which I don't remember anymore my bra was all puckered in. I had to keep turning away from him, so he wouldn't see my flat chest."

The ladies laughed and laughed while their sons looked on wondering what the joke was.

Looking at her son, Mrs. Reed said, "Remember Jeff, if you ever run out of tissue, Michelle has a reserve."

That caused the mothers to laugh out even more. By now it was nearly eleven, and everyone got up. Michael and his mother escorted the Philips to the door. At the door, Reed leaned into her son and said softly but loud enough for all to hear, "Michelle, don't you think you should give your date a kiss before he leaves?"

Michael stood speechless. As did Jeff.

"Mom I can't he's a boy."

"Jeffrey," Mrs. Reed said, with his mother looking on approvingly, "would you mind if Michael gave you a kiss?"

Jeffery shook his head to mean no.

Michael gave a little girl shrug and turned his face to his friend. Jeff moved closer until their lips met, mostly by accident.

"Boy," Mrs. Reed objected. "That's no kiss. Try again, Michelle. This time with passion."

The boys moved closer this time, bent their heads down to each other, and with lips puckered kissed. This time the kiss was real and met with the enthusiastic approval of their mothers.

Chapter 8

"You and Jeff sure became a couple for the rest of the summer. I think he was over nearly every day, and you two would watch TV or I'd drive you to the Mall in Unionville," Mrs. Reed said.

Michelle agreed, "That was the start of my life as a girl and I was really into the girl-thing. Most of the time in the house, I was a girl."

"Did you miss Will those last weeks of summer vacation?"

"I don't think I did, Well, maybe I did. After all, Will was a lot better kisser than Jeff. We just played around, but Will knew what he was doing. I felt control over Jeff, but Will was in charge. I think at the time I liked that."

Michelle stood up, glanced at her watch, and looked around the room. Jeff and I sure spent a lot of time here. The room looked a little shabbier than what she remembered. The couches were the same, outdated, but still comfortable. "That's where Jeff and I sat. Him in the corner with his arm on my shoulder. I always dressed nicely for him. Usually, I wore a skirt, so he could see my panties. He always wanted to see them. And touch my legs. He liked that."

"You teased him?"

"Sure did. I'd lift my skirt and spread my legs, then suddenly put them together and lower my skirt. Mom, I was terrible."

"No, dear, you were just realizing the power women have over men."

"And when he wasn't showing enough interest, I'd get my head close to his face, so he could see my hair and smell my perfume. That always got his attention."

"A typical girl. Interested only in men who ignore them."

Mother and daughter teetered over that comment.

"Mom, can I see my room?"

With that, the two walked up to the second-floor bedrooms.

"Dear, I haven't changed anything since you left."

The room was cluttered with the stuff of a boy who was interested in a lot of things. It looked like the room of a boy who suddenly stopped being a boy but resisted being a total girl. Michelle looked at a half-finished model plastic B-1 airplane, an open U.S. stamp book, a blue coin holder with a few coins in it, and a handful of baseball cards. Amid the books in his bookcase were several rocks. Michelle wondered why he had them. They looked ordinary. Why did he pick them up? He wished he could remember. There were other mementos of their excursions: a bird's nest, arrowheads, and several turn of the century bottles.

"Jeff and I sure had fun on our bicycles collecting this stuff."

Mrs. Reed stood at the door. "You sure did. As a boy, you two were out riding nearly every nice day."

Michelle picked up a Teen Girl magazine on her desk. The cork bulletin board was full of pictures tacked to it. Lots of friends from high school. How that corkboard brought back memories! It was the most girl-thing in the room. Full of pictures and notes with hearts and ribbons. Pictures of Buffy, cut out of teen magazines and the tabloids, were scotch-taped to the walls, mirror, and door.

"Jeff and I were sure into Buffy that year."

Mrs. Reed moved over to her daugther. "Yes, you were."

"I'm almost embarrassed. Jeff and I must have behaved sooo adolescent."

Mother and daughter laughed.

"Remember the first time you kissed Jeff?" Mrs. Reed asked.

"Yep. You made us."

"I did, but you didn't resist too much."

"How could I with such outrageous ringlets and Jeff all over me with his hands and you and Carole encouraging almost ordering us to kiss what could we do?"

"You did what was natural for a young boy and girl."

"I guess so. We were a secret couple for years. At least I thought we were a secret. Looking back I guess everyone knows about us."

"Yes, I remember, dear, that you enjoyed yourself as a girl. How often have you said, 'can you make me real pretty?' And of course, I did."

"The summer sure went by quickly. Remember how I kept reminding you that I had to get a haircut before school started."

"I sure do! Haircut! Haircut! That's all I remember you repeating."

"Mother, I'm sure you knew my dilemma. Ever since you braided my hair, I'd found a new life as a girl. And now that life was about to end. Couldn't be a girl without my long hair. I guess I just wanted to face the inevitable and get it cut."

Chapter 9

Michael answered the phone. Sarah Smith... she and some friends... wanted to come over... about the high school policy. Michael shook his head. What in the world was that all about. The school was about to begin, and Michael had planned to get his hair cut that day. Sally was the leader of the school in-crowd and had never much spoken to him. Michael combed his hair into a low ponytail and was waiting for them at the front door. Then the group walked to the patio table on the back deck. Sarah was the spokesman.

"Michael," she said, "this is Jane, Larry, Tod, and Jack." Michael liked Sarah's confidence, the way she took charge. Right away, she read the new dress code for Monroe High. Michael barely heard a word she was saying.

Since our high school will be judged in part by the public, parents, and prospective employers on the appearance of our students, we believe that we have a responsibility to seek to ensure that our public image as portrayed by our students is one that the majority of the governing body, the staff and the parents of the school would be proud of and would wish to be associated with. Parents are reminded of the guidelines for acceptable student hairstyles and for the wearing of jewelers. If your child is unable or unwilling to conform to these guidelines please make an appointment to discuss the matter with the Principal before sending your child to school.

In light of the above, Monroe High School has adopted the following guidelines relating to students' hair.

Boy's hair is to be well-groomed and cut in a moderate style. Hair should be no longer than the collar, should not cover the ears, and should not fall in the eyes. The head is not to be shaven or closely shaven in part or whole. Where blades are used - no cut below the number "2" is acceptable. Boys' hair is not to be tied back and gel or any equivalent is not to be used to disguise a hairstyle that would otherwise be unacceptable.

An all-around balance with no part too long or too short produces extreme overhangs or undercuts.

Sarah skipped down to the next paragraph.

Boys will not be allowed to wear any article of clothing or any fashion accessory historically associated with female attire, including attire that is seen or hidden.

Sarah was animated as she explained her complaint. "They can't do that, Michael. After all, we're not second-class people. Students have rights, you know."

Looking into Sarah's lovely eyes, he had to agree with her. How could he otherwise? Here was Sarah, the coolest girl in high school with the coolest kids in school, and they had come to him. "Yeah, I see your point. I never thought of it that way."

Sarah moved closer to him and waving the paper in front of him, said, "And we need you to help us."

Me, me? Help you?"

"Sure, you got the longest hair and you always have, so they can't say this is a sudden thing to test them. So you gotta fight for us."

"I fight for you?"

"Uh Huh. You gotta go as now Michael be cool. You gotta go like a girl."

Michael felt lightheaded. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

All the kids encouraged him. "You can do it, come on, guy for us, for all the kids of the school."

Sarah spoke up. "It won't be for very long, maybe only one day. I'm sure Principal Murry will give in as soon as you and your lawyer see him. After all, either he relaxes the rules, or your lawyer takes him to court, and you know how the district is always crying that they're short of funds. He's got to give in."

The only words Michael remembered were a lawyer. "My lawyer?"

"Uh Huh," Sarah said. "Well, not a real lawyer, a preschool lawyer. Daddy says he's really smart and knows the law and works part-time at Daddy's firm. Anyway, it won't cost you a cent."

Again the group urged Michael to go along with their plot. "It's all arranged... you can't back out now... it's for all kids everywhere... for their rights."

Michael's head was bursting. "I gotta think...get back to you later."

The group, especially Sally, persisted in pleading their case, and Michael repeated that he had to think about it... he had to talk with his mother... they had to wait.

Okay, everyone agreed. They would return on Friday with his answer. With that, the group walked down the steps of the deck and left.

Mrs. Reed found her son resting his head in his hands on the patio table. "What is it, dear?"

Michael held his head in his hands. "Mom, you won't believe this one." Finally, he told her the whole story. "Mom, did you know about this?"

"Of course not, dear. I think they're asking an awful lot of you. You're not responsible for changing the world."

Michael repeated the conversation. "Mom, they really want me to do this."

"Yes, I see they do. But how do you feel about it, about going to school as a girl?"

Michael didn't answer her question and Mrs. Reed left her son to himself. A ton of questions raced through the young boy's mind as he stared at the television.

It was nearly ten when the door bell rang.

"Hello, Mrs. Reed."

"Wilma!"

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I just came back from a meeting with the McHenry school board and they're not backing down on their policy. I know Sally spoke to Michael only today, but we need an answer."

"Dear, how nice you look!"

The lovely girl was tired and on a mission. "Thanks, but is Michael here?"

"You still need Michael?"

"Yes, we still want him to be our test case."

Mrs. Reed escorted Wilma into the living room and called her son.

Michael walked over to the figure in their hallway.

"Hello, Michael. It's me, William Wilma."

Michael was stunned. Together the three sat down to talk.

William explained that he'd been dressing like a girl since he was a teenager. That he knew the feeling of wanting to be a woman. For most of the time, he was William, but there were times he felt he had to be Wilma. He said that he had wanted to tell him about himself and what was planned but first wanted to be sure Michael wanted to be a girl.

"I didn't want to pressure you to be a girl, but now I feel maybe I did. Sorry about that. I wanted to be honest with you, but it was difficult. I've walked in your shoes. I know how difficult it is to face the reality of wanting to be a female."

Michael was speechless except for a "Geeze" or "Wow".

"I guess I should have told you sooner."

Mrs. Reed spoke up. "What about this challenge of the rules?"

"We want to present our case to Mr. Murry, that the students of Monroe High have Constitutional rights. You know, there are even other students at the school who enjoy female attire."

"And what do you want Michael to do?"

"We want him to go to school with his hair long. Lots of boys want to wear their hair long. We want him to wear female clothes. Lots of girls like to wear jeans. We want him to wear female jewelry. Lots of boys want to wear bracelets and pins and earrings. And we want him to wear makeup. Lots of boys like some makeup, especially for their blemishes. In other words, we want you to look as much like a girl as possible."

Michael sat forward in the chair. "I don't"

"Mike, the whole school will be behind you. You'll be a hero. And I'll be helping you, along with Mr. Thomas, an attorney who specializes in these cases. And, I think you'll like this. You'll be able to pursue being a girl. I was honest in saying that being a girl is great fun, and you'll never regret it. Anyway, I don't think Principal Murry is going to resist very long. The school doesn't have the money to fight a court case, and I don't think he'll want you running around looking like a pretty girl and all the publicity the school will get." William went on and on as he was wont to do.

Mrs. Reed seemed agreeable. "Michael, it may be just for a day or so."

Will looked at his watch and got up to leave. "Think it over," he said walking to the door. "Oh, by the way, I'm the boy on the porch."

Michael had a lot to think about as he went to bed that night. Wilma - William  Jeff. Jeff could have told him that William was the boy on the porch and he was dressed like a girl. Michael felt like he was the last person in the world to learn the truth. Why the secret? If it wasn't so late, he'd have called his friend that night.