For a Girl, J.T. D'Arelli [reading fiction txt] 📗

them a couple of times a year. They could be a real pain — but they were also very cute kids. I'd always been fond of them — they kind of looked up to me. And Mom was right — they loved to play dress-up and wear frilly clothes any chance they could get.

Mom continued. "Now you're like they are — you're getting to explore your femininity. All little girls are like that. Most of them move past the 'fluffy' stage by the time they're teenagers. But since you never got to wear skirts when you were younger, you're going through that phase now."

"I don't think so."

"Oh really?" She walked over to the closet and held out that cute pink number she'd enticed me with on our first shopping trip. She led me to the mirror and placed the dress against me. "Tell me you don't want to wear this to school tomorrow."

I could see from my reflection how adorable I'd look in it. Just say no. Say no! But I couldn't. Because, dammit, I did want to wear it. Incredible. One day in a skirt and I couldn't resist the idea of dressing like that some more.

"Okay. I admit it. I want to wear it."

"And cute panties with a matching bra underneath?"

"All right, all right. You win. Yes, Mom, I like dressing up as a girl. I know I shouldn't, but..."

"Why shouldn't you like it?" she prodded.

"Well... because..."

"Because you still think, deep inside, that for a boy to become a girl is embarrassing."

"I suppose."

"That's the part of you trying to resist all of this. But what you're starting to learn is that there are benefits as well. You lose, but you gain too. Being female is special in it's own way — and you're realizing that now. So don't fight it — go with it. Enjoy your girlhood."

She was right. If I stripped away the male attitude I had, and tried to look objectively at how I felt about this body and about wearing skirts and pretty underwear — I flat out liked it. My reluctance to acknowledge it was based on habit — upon the disdain all boys were supposed to feel about girly things.

But then, I'm not really a boy anymore, am I?

I didn't know if my changing attitude was a result of GB reshaping my mind, or just the natural consequence of experiencing femininity — but either way, I was starting to like being a young woman.

And much of what went with it.

But not all, I reflected later as I was getting ready for bed. Aside from the extreme length of time it took to do my hair, etc, I was still fretting over the whole Andy Marks thing. I knew he'd be causing me more problems, and I also knew I was vulnerable to him in a new way now. As I pulled my sleepshirt over my ample breasts (still amazed at how my nipples poked through), I wondered what I was going to do about it.

While lying in bed, I was struck by how the blanket rested more heavily against my crotch than before. A small thing, but another reminder of how my life had changed. I faded off to sleep, visions of the day — Becky and Sue and all the girls from the locker room flashing through my mind.

I Want a Boy-Toy

And I dreamed.

I was drifting, drifting gently on a placid body of water. Smooth, calming, peaceful. There was no raft, no boat — just my body and the warmth of the ocean supporting me. But after a time, I felt a tide begin to lift me. Slowly at first, then more rapidly as I felt myself carried ever higher by the now-turbulent waves. Yet I felt no danger — in fact, the more violent the water, the more relaxed I seemed. Then, just when it appeared I could rise no higher, I felt the waves suddenly recede — almost as if the water was flowing... through my body, draining and draining. Until there was no more water, and I was left on a sandy beach, a wonderful lassitude filling me.

I rolled over and looked into the eyes of my lover.

He smiled back at me.

He?!

Then I woke up and immediately realized what had happened.

I'd just had a wet dream.

A GIRL's wet dream.

With an emphasis on the 'wet' part! My legs were spread as wide as they could be and my panties were completely soaked. In fact, they were dripping. Even the sheets below were damp. There was a musky, female odor in the air. I felt a throbbing between my legs and my nipples were straining against my sleepshirt.

Jesus! Now I'd a few of these as a boy, but never had I left a mess like this! Embarrassed at the unladylike, yet feminine position my legs had assumed, I quickly brought my knees together and got up. A few minutes later, fresh sheets and fresh panties in place, I felt a little calmer. But still! I realized what a wet dream represented — a body's release of sexual tension while sleeping. Yet the strange nature of the dream, along with the prodigious quantity of fluids I'd produced, demonstrated the new world I was now in. The world of a woman.

For I remembered the last part of the dream. I'd had a lover. A male lover.

I really didn't want to go there. But obviously, my body did. I returned to an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, while screwing up my courage to wear the pink dress my mom had gotten me, I thought about what had happened. In essence, I'd had a girl's orgasm. Granted, I'd been asleep, but the intensity of it resonated still. Different than a boy's. Much different. Especially the... ejaculation. I'd had no idea girls could be so... productive!

Definitely a unique experience. How much more intense would it be if I were awake? And stimulating myself directly? Or being stimulated by someone else?

I pulled the dress over my head. It was a bit longer than yesterday's skirt. Light pink, flowers, spring-style, etc. I finished getting ready and got a huge hug from my mom as she gushed over how pretty I looked in the outfit — a fact I'd confirmed in the glass.

The more time I spend as a female, the more time I spend in front of mirrors. Remember the classic Norman Rockwell painting of a young girl in her slip, staring at her reflection? She was wondering what kind of woman she was going to be. I was doing the same. Physical appearance was becoming more important to me than ever before.

Please don't think me conceited. I wasn't taking pride in my looks, quite the opposite — I was still unsettled by them. I knew I was cute — but that was because I'd spent a lifetime as a boy looking at girls — so I had a perspective other girls lacked. But also because I'd been a boy, I knew (better than other girls) what boys would think when they saw me.

Yet wearing the dress was... fun. Along with my satiny panties, I felt so... so... girly! There was another whole set of uniquely feminine feelings running through me — new feelings that I was really starting to enjoy. So — confused, pleased, awkward and excited — I headed for the bus to start my day.

I sat down next to Arleen, who continued to be enthralled with my dress, my hair, my femininity, etc. She kept looking at me with such a deep expression, one that I was beginning to recognize. When we arrived at school, she suddenly took my arm and practically dragged me to an unoccupied office. Then she locked the door.

By now, I'd figured out what was going on — so I was not surprised when she kissed me.

No sisterly kiss between girlfriends, either. She was simultaneously shy and bold, a rather appealing combination. As she pressed her lips to mine, my arms automatically went around her. She was so soft — and curvier than either Sue or myself. Finally, after a delightful minute of interlocking tongues, I pushed away from her.

"Arleen, is there something you want to tell me?"

She blushed, looked at the floor and finally said, "I guess I'm not really like other girls."

"That's okay, neither am I," was my light-hearted response.

"I've always had certain feelings that just don't fit in."

"You've done an incredible job of concealing them. I never would have guessed. You're so... feminine!"

"That was the whole idea, Stephanie. I knew from childhood that I was attracted to girls. I also knew the rest of the world would condemn me for it. And being trapped in this fucking small town!" I jumped a little — I'd never heard her curse before. "If anybody in Milford even suspected I was gay, I would have been branded, outcast as unclean."

She sighed deeply, then continued. "So I dressed in... dresses. Wore my hair long. Put on make-up. Acted like a girly-girl. I even dated a couple of boys, just to keep the illusion going. I tried to hide not only from everyone else, but also from myself. But I always failed. Oh, no one figured it out. But on the inside — I kept wanting what I could never have.

"Last year was the worse," she said softly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I fell in love for the first time. With one of our classmates. I won't tell you her name. It was like a wonderful dream and a terrible nightmare at the same time. I had all these amazing, powerful feelings for her. I wanted to go to a mountaintop and shout, 'I love this girl!'

"But I couldn't. I had to bottle everything up, bury all my emotions. I'd see her in the halls every day and my heart would leap. Then it would plunge into an abyss when I realized I could never share what I felt. It was worse than unrequited love — I knew the very thought of being with me would repel her. And... and I couldn't even tell anyone else! Not my friends, not my family... no one. All I could do was hide... conceal... deny."

She was openly crying now. "It took months for me to recover. I just kept saying to myself... someday. Someday I'd get out of this damn town and find a place where I could be who I really was... without being ashamed."

She looked at me through lowered eyelashes. "You're the first person I've ever told."

I thought about what she had said. I was so very sympathetic for her pain — for I knew how she felt. After all, I'd lost my girlfriend the same way. And I'd been able to share my love with Sue — at least for a while. And even now, I didn't have to pretend our feelings never existed. Not the way Arleen had been forced to.

I walked over to her, wrapped my arms around her and gave her a huge hug. "Arleen, you've nothing to fear from me. If there's one girl in this school who understands, I'm her. I'm so sorry. I wish you'd never had to go through what you did."

She held the hug for a few moments, then