After eating,

I started to learn how to do ‘girl’ chores.

My aunt slipped an apron over my head and tied an enormous bow in the back.

I was handed a pair of rubber gloves and told to do the breakfast dishes.

I had an easy enough time of it but I kept having to peer over my breasts.

A strange feeling came over me as I realized that boys would be attracted to me in my disguise!

I tried to get used to my new identity,

but I couldn’t ignore how the hosiery hugged my legs,

how the heels changed my posture.

Eventually, I finished up the dishes,

cleaned up the kitchen, and joined my aunt and Tracy in the living room.

“John,” my aunt began,

“Tracy and I were just saying that we need to call you something feminine.

What’s your favorite girl’s name?”

I stammered that I had never thought about it.

“Well, then, how about ‘Heather’?

I just love that name,

don’t you Tracy?”

“Wow, Mom, that’s great!

OK with you Heather?”

Consistent with most of my other activities in the last two days,

I simply nodded dumbly.

“Well, Heather, we’re about ready for your public debut.

My friend Debbie runs a beauty parlor and she’s agreed to give you the works.

Tracy, get Heather set up with a purse.”

Before I knew it, I had a purse stuck in my hand and was propelled out the front door.

What a clatter I made in my heels!

The sight of sunlight bouncing off my yellow dress filled me with fear of discovery.

I made my way as fast as possible to the car and jumped in the back seat.

The drive into town was uneventful.

After my aunt pulled up in front of the beauty parlor,

I opened the door and slid out as I always have.

The difference was that in a dress,

I succeeded in having it ride up to my waist.

Two boys whistled appreciably at the leg show I had provided.

Tracy giggled as I turned several shades of red.

We entered the beauty parlor and Debbie introduced herself.

“Oh, Helen, he’s adorable.

We’ll have him all dolled up in no time.

please put on a robe, honey.”

I went behind a curtain and, struggled out of all the clothing,

put on the short pink terrycloth robe and rejoined Debbie.

As soon as I sat in the chair Debbie and two other beauticians Practically attacked me!

One girl waxed my legs and gave me a pedicure.

The second installed ceramic nails and pierced my ears.

Debbie, meanwhile,

cut my hair,

gave me a perm

and plucked my eyebrows.

Although most of the procedures were uncomfortable,

I still got the impression that I was pampered.

While I sat under the hairdryer, Tracy handed me fashion magazines to read.

I couldn’t hear over the roar of the dryer,

but Tracy would point to an outfit and then point at me,

indicating that I would look good in it.

My hair was styled and I was sent to get dressed again.

My nails made everything more difficult, but I managed to put it all back on.

The pantyhose and slip felt different against my hairless legs.

I returned to the chair and waited while Debbie restored my makeup.

The trip home was uneventful except for my sore earlobes.

Once there, my feminine training shifted into high gear!

Tracy had me put on a pair of spike heels at least 4inches tall

She balanced a book on my head to teach me how to walk convincingly.

While I minced back and forth,

she read me teenage romance novels and quizzed me on the girls’ actions.

“What would you have done if you were Sarah?

Would you wear a long prom gown or a short one?

How would you have dressed for that big date with Bob?

Do you think it’s embarrassing wearing those little cheerleading skirts?

What do you think that wedding gown felt like?”

Before long I was concentrating on the questions,

only occasionally thinking about managing my heels.

Aunt Helen came in after about an hour and gave me a few pointers.

“Put one foot directly in front of the other

it will give you a wiggle.

keep your legs together as you walk.

You should feel your nylons rub against one another with every step.”

After another hour, my feet ached!

Tracy let me change into a pair of flats and had me practice sitting in a chair,

crossing my legs and then getting up.

The goal was twofold-

to keep my skirts unwrinkled and to avoid displaying more of my feminine underpinnings than I wanted to.

It turned out that I tended to be too modest!

“A girl is used to putting her legs on display every day.

We don’t think twice about flashing a little thigh and the boys love it.

As long as your panties don’t show, it’s probably OK.”