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Home Sissy Girl Stories Links. A Pretty Boy. By Nina. Chapter One. In The Beginning. My parents had one child, a boy, me. Many times I overheard them talking about me and how they wished I was a girl. I always felt a twinge of pain when I heard them say that but they loved me, always treated me very well and never said anything to my face so I pretty much ignored it. It was a secret, or so mom and he thought but I knew about it.
I had discovered it when I was about four. One night back then I got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. The parlor lamps were lit so I crept very quietly past the door.
I did look in as I walked by. I was shocked, if a four year old by can be shocked.
I saw two women kissing on the couch only one of them looked like dad. Dad was dressed like mom. Over the next few years I saw them many times. Sometimes I would listen to their conversations. I learned that my grandmother, who was a widow, dressed dad as a fulltime girl until he was eighteen. This was not that unusual in the late s. By then he had come to love being a girl but had to give it up to earn a living. As I grew older I began to notice his clothes more closely.
A bit of snooping in his closet disclosed that he wore, what I was to learn were corsets. I eventually learned that he had worn them from the time he was eight. My curiosity continued and at some point became a fascination. Little did I realize that fascination can become reality.
Dad was always bringing home little magazines, London Life I believe was their title, that he and mom would read them aloud together when I was in bed? They always dealt with men, and boys, dressing as girls. Invariably they were forced to wear corsets. I found them interesting in a strange sort of way. When I was almost ten I overheard one about a Victorian mother who decided to transform her son into what they referred to as a pretty boy.
Short pants were a must in order to display the silk stockings. According to the stories it was a common thing to do in England during the late Eighteen Nineties and early Nineteen Hundreds.
About a month later my life became complicated and has been so ever since. It all started right after my tenth birthday. The year was One night she read one of the pretty boy stories to me after tucking me into bed. As she read I thought to myself that it would have been terribly embarrassing. They would have been better of being completely dressed as girls. I was to find out why a few days later. I dreamt about it that night and woke frequently with the story racing through my thoughts. The Metamorphosis.
It all started out, thinking back, on a low key. In fact, to a ten year old, it was imperceptible. After drying me she, for the first time dusted me with a pleasant, flowery scented powder, casually commenting that dad always used it and I was growing up. I soon came to like it. In all boys my age wore corduroy knee pants called knickers. Some wore short pants during the summer. I always had worn the former all year round since mom thought it saved a lot of scraped knees. I was surprised then, when school let out for summer vacation that a pair of short pants appeared on the bed one morning.
Mom commented that they would be much cooler. I felt a little embarrassed the first time I went out in public wearing them with my legs showing. I soon got used to them and went on with life. I never connected the sudden appearance of the bath powder and the short pants in my wardrobe to the stories. By now my bedtime stories had become excerpts from books similar to the first one. I was being brain washed by my parents. Of course ten year old children are very gullible.
One day as I dressed for church I noticed my ankle socks were different. They were white and came to my upper calf. They even had a lacy trim around the top edge. I commented that they looked girlish but mom told me that they were just dressy. A few weeks later another subtle change took place. I always wore boxer shorts.
After I was bathed and powdered, that was a standard routine, my underwear changed. My boxer shorts were gone. On the bed was a pink item similar to one I had seen dad wearing. When I put them on the soft silky Boy dressed as girl stories was very pleasant. If I had I probably would have ascribed it to them shrinking in the wash. Besides, I rather liked the sensation. Chapter Three. A Big Change. Over the summer mom was very fussy with my hair. She made sure it never got very long.
Just before school was to start, I fell off my bike and wrenched my back. Dad checked me out and except for a bit of pain I seemed all right. After a few days I had trouble walking upright and it still ached. As a result, one morning after my bath everything seemed to take place after my bath mom brought in what I recognized as a corset.
It will do wonders for your back. It was quite formidable looking. It had a lot of heavy strips running up and down its length and a row of laces down the back. Before I could say a word she had it wrapped around me and fastened the front clasp.
I was turned around and the laces were tightened. You just need support not a new shape. I reached from about two inches above my waist to part way down my thighs. I immediately liked the sensation of its firm stiff grip. Then I noticed some things hanging down from the bottom of the corset.
There were four on each side of the corset. Mom saw me looking at them.Boy dressed as girl stories
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