A Weekend Transformation

Once when I was a young teen, my parents decided to go away for the weekend – Friday to Sunday night – and left me at home with my sister as babysitter. She was allowed to have her friend Dolores over as long as there were no shenanigans. So on Friday night, after dinner and after my parents had left, we three were ensconced in the lounge room, watching TV. I hadn’t noticed the two girls were whispering and giggling. Then my sister Alice pointed at me and said: “He wants to be a girl.” Dolores spluttered with laughter. “How do you know?” she asked. “Oh, he doesn’t know it but I’ve noticed he’s been ‘borrowing’ my clothes, especially my undies.” My face was burning red. “That’s not true,” I said but Alice suggested: “We have him all to ourselves for the weekend. Why don’t we give him what he wants – let’s turn him into a girl for the weekend. How hilarious” Dolores agreed: “He’d fit into your clothes easily – and he’s got a rather girlish looking face. I reckon he’d transform beautifully.” “What do you say, honey?” Alice stared at me. “And I won’t tell mum and dad you’re a trans.” “All right,” I decided. “I’ll do it. But it has to be the whole way and for the whole weekend.” “For sure,” she said. “Let’s get you started.”
I was dispatched to the bathroom with strict instructions to have a good bath and shave off all my hair. That was no trouble; I hardly had much body hair and no facial hair. I joined the other two in Alice’s bedroom. They were giggling again.
“Tonight, we want you done up like a sweet princess,” my sister declared. “Show him the lingerie, Dolores.”
Dolores displayed the gorgeous underwear, and as she described them, passed them to me to slip into.
“Hot pink panties” came first, followed by matching bra (carefully stuffed with socks to give me boobs), “white lace garter suspender belt, trimmed with roses” Dolores showed me how to roll up the flesh-coloured seamed stockings and snap them taut to the garters. A pink silk camisole completed the ensemble.
Alice had been raking through her wardrobe. She produced a pretty frock. “I haven’t worn this for years,” she said. “It was my party dress … now where are the petticoats?”
The dress was a short, pretty pink number, with peter pan collar, puffy sleeves, a tight bodice and a wide skirt. She slipped it over my head and fluffed and tugged it into position. Then she produced a frothy petticoat which I stepped into and shucked up to my waist. It made the skirt spread out fully and whispered frou-frou as I moved in it. I adored it.
“I think she looks rather ravishing now,” said Dolores who had found a pair of black patent black shoes with a strap and stacked heel. They fitted perfectly.
Next job was make-up. They had me perch at the dressing table, being careful to sit properly, sweeping the skirt beneath me in a ladylike fashion. Alice took care of the foundation, powder and rouge while Dora painted my eyes. There were lots of “oohs” and “how pretty” as they feminised my face. A bright red lipstick finished the transformation.
I was getting very excited by now. The smell of the makeup, the tickly frills of the petticoat, and the slippery tautness of the undies were heavenly. I couldn’t wait to see what I looked like.
“And finally, the hair.” Alice had a long, blonde wig, with bangs. She slipped it over my short hair then set about rearranging it into a ponytail tied up high on the back of my head with a pink bow. Dora had found gloves, earrings and a purse.
“Now you can see yourself, sweetheart.” They led me down the hall to my parents’ bedroom and the full-length mirror on its wardrobe. I could not believe the change.
Where once was a gangly boy, with short hair, in jeans and t-shirt there was now a preciously pretty little girl, probably about 12 years old, blonde, bobbed with a ponytail like Kylie Minogue, in tight pink party dress, skirt standing out on petticoats, puffy sleeves that made my arms look even more skinny and girly, with stockings and gorgeous patent shoes. I spun around and around, feeling the petticoats dance on my thighs. I pursed my lips, blew kisses, created little girl poses. It was almost a dream.
“Now the boy who wanted to be a girl gets his wish,” said Dolores. “Or ‘her’ wish.” They giggled. My sister was entranced: “Wow, I now have a little sister to play with. Better than a dumb old boy. Come on, girls, let’s go and play.”
We trooped back to the lounge room. “Do you love it?” my sister asked. “I’ll call you Evie, that’s a pretty little girl’s name.”
I nodded. “I never thought I could be transformed so perfectly,” I told her. “Yes, I’ve been trying on your things here and there but never gone the whole way. I just adore being a pretty little girl and being here with you pretty girls.”
“I think mom might have suspected,” she said. “Not dad. But I know mum would have liked to have dressed you up. That would have been fun. You, mom and I going shopping as three girls. She would have bought us gorgeous little outfits, skirts and sweaters, lots of panties and girdles and camis. We could play skip rope and had dolls to play with. Oh yes, you would have adored being a little girl.
“Actually, have you ever thought of being born a girl. A little baby girl in pink layette. Everybody loves to fuss over the sweet little baby.
“As you got older, you discover the joys of being a girl. I can imagine you as an eight-year-old, getting all pouty and fussy. Playing with the other little girls, making sure the little boys didn’t get a glimpse of your frilly panties.
“And now you’re the perfect princess. Tell me how you feel in your clothes.”
I stammered a little. “Yes, I like the panties and how they’re slippery and tight. And the bra feels sexy and I like having breasts. The garters feel very taut on my thighs and the stockings are very grown up. And the party dress is just perfect – I can just imagine going to a girl’s party in this outfit and being the prettiest little girl there. And the petticoats are so dreamy and frothy and frilly. I love spinning them around. I actually want to stay like this forever.”
“Then I want you like this for always,” said Alice. “We’ll just have to do what we can to be sisters like this forever.”
The End