Welcome to Mother’s World

by: Melanie Richardson

 

Chapter One – Growing up

I was just 10 when my father died in a car accident whilst away on business. I can remember the awful feeling of being left alone that my mother and I felt. However badly we felt, even at that young age I knew we didn’t feel as badly as people should who had just lost someone that close. I guess the reason was that we really weren’t that close to my father. You see my father was very much a career man. He wasn’t a bad man, or even a bad father. I’m sure my mother would say he wasn’t a bad husband. He just wasn’t there much. He spent a lot of time immersed in his work and as his work involved a lot of travelling for a very large company, we didn’t get to see that much of him. So when he died we didn’t feel the sense of lose we should have. The company he had worked for was very paternalistic and so we were left comfortably off. The terms of the mortgage meant that our house automatically became hers outright. It wasn’t grand but a fairly unremarkable three bedroomed detached house in a small town 30 miles from London placed it in a prime position and the money that came from Father’s employers meant that my Mother didn’t have to work to keep us.

It was probably because of the nature of these relationships with father that my mother and I had always been very close. Boys are always close to their mothers but I was especially close. We spent lots of time together and we loved being in each other’s company. Other than that I had the same sort of boyhood as all my friends. I was popular at school but no more popular than most other children were. I got into the same scrapes as my friends and got told off as severely as they did but no worse.

My mother had a good circle of other ladies who all lived in the same area. They were all respectable women, which wasn’t surprising because we lived in a respectable neighbourhood in a respectable town. They used to meet for afternoon tea and would often be chatting when I got home from school. I used to like nothing better than to sit quietly on the floor leaning up against my mothers legs as they would chat about how good life was in the ‘old days’ and what was happening to the world today. I had been born when my mother was 42 and so my mother and her friends were quite a bit older than the parents of my friends. In some ways they would be more the age of their grandparents. I was about 13 when I first realised that my mother and all her friends seemed to look very similar. I spent a fair amount of time in the homes of my school friends, doing homework and listening to records and my friends mothers were all younger, slimmer and fitter than my mother. This didn’t embarrass or disappoint me. It was simply how it was. But when I looked at my mother and her friends, apart from being older, they were all larger. My own mother was quite a tall lady standing 5’10" and weighing in at about 220. Whilst not all her friends were as tall (although one was even taller) they were all as heavy if not heavier.

I’d seen pictures of my mother’s mother and she too was a big woman. Something, no doubt, even more unusual in the days in which she grew up. My mother also had a very large bosom. I used to love to cuddle up in the evenings watching TV and would snuggle my head into her breast feeling all safe and secure in her arms. On this day when I was 13 and the difference between my friends Mum’s and my Mother and her friends dawned on me, I remember noticing that they all had big busts also. Big women had big busts was my simple conclusion. Of course, as I learned later in life, small women don’t necessarily have small busts but I have always found that my ‘simple’ conclusion on that day has been proved time and time again. Big women do indeed tend to have big busts.

When a boy is in his early teens he tends to take a healthy interest in the female form. Like many boys my age I developed a number of crushes. Again like many boys my age they tended to be on three categories of female. Firstly, there were the girls at school. Mainly my crushes in this department were on girls at least one year older than me. Often two or three years older. Secondly, I developed crushes on the Mum’s of some of my friends. There was one in particular. I think I responded to her obvious flirting. I felt so proud that she would flirt with me until one day, whilst I was there in the house with my friend and his Mum, I saw her flirt with the postman, a door-to-door salesman and another of my friends. I realised that she flirted with just about everyone and the bubble burst for me. The third object of my desire was my Mother. I would lie awake at night ruing all the times that I’d snuggled up close to her and hadn’t realised what opportunities I’d wasted to have a surreptitious feel of her large heavy tits.

Around this time, I would do everything I could to try to touch or see my Mother without raising suspicions. Yet strangely, the most thrilling moment of these years occurred when I was least expecting it and didn’t arise due to any of my meticulously planned schemes. I was ill one afternoon and had been sent home from school. Mother made me go to bed and fussed over me all evening. Eventually, the time for her to go to bed arrived and both she and I went to sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night very hot and feverish. I didn’t call out or anything but must have moaned because my Mother was at my bedside placing a cool facecloth on my forehead to cool me down. Being tired she unconsciously, yawned and stretched up at the same time. With the stretching her nightie rose right up and there next to my head, not 6 inches away from my face was her lovely cunt. It was so close I could see every detail. The folds of her outer lips. A glint in the light of a little moisture and the thick bush of dark hair above it. I think she realised that I could see because she did stay stretched up for quite a while after she’d finished yawning and had flushed cheeks when she’d finished stretching. She went back to bed and I wanked myself off in less than a minute. That image in my mind kept me going in wanks for the next few weeks. There was a second occasion a number of years later, which I will recount for you in a while.

My mother and her friends would chat about their lives and how things could have been different ‘if’. It was during one of these conversations that I got my first inkling that my mother would have loved to have had a daughter but alas when I was born she was told that it would be dangerous to her health to have any more children. So, she only had one child and that, sad to say, was a boy. Me.

I didn’t feel guilty or uncomfortable about this. To be honest, I’m not sure that at that age, probably about 14, I even felt sorry for her. It was just a fact and one of those things. Life dealt the cards and you just played them. Simple as that.

Life for me remained very ‘ordinary’. I did reasonably well at school and went on to university where I was supported financially and in every other way by my lovely mother. Whilst I lived away and with an initial commitment to come at least once a term, I found that I was coming home almost every weekend. When I was at university I really missed her. When I was at home, I was so content.

I said earlier that I would recount for you a second time when I got a surprisingly candid view of my Mother. As I said, our original plan was for me to go to university and come home to see her at least once every term. Well, I went with the good intentions of keeping to that but after a couple of weekends away I was frankly homesick. I needed to get home to the town I knew, the people I knew an most of all my Mother. Rather than have her tell me to stay at Uni. when I phoned her to tell her I was coming home, I decided to surprise her. I caught the train on Friday evening after lectures and bought her a nice bunch of flowers at the station. The walk from the station only took about 10 minutes so I arrived home at about 8PM. I let myself into the house quietly with the aim of catching her in the lounge or the kitchen and thrusting a lovely bunch of flowers in her face and watching her reaction. She wasn’t there. My nicely worked plan had failed. I have to admit that I was a bit deflated. I put the flowers in a vase, made a cup of tea and went into my bedroom to change. Unbeknown to me, Mother, who had been working in the garden all afternoon, unnoticed by me on my arrival, had decided that being quite dirty, a bath was needed. With my bedroom being over the garage at the other end of the house and thus out of earshot of all this, I had no idea that she was even in the house, let alone in the bathroom. I stripped off to change but decided to take a shower before putting clean clothes on. In the nude I walked to the bathroom at just the point my Mother had got out of the bath and was bending over drying her legs. As I opened the door I was presented with one of the most wonderful sights I have ever seen. There filling my field of vision was my mothers very large bottom. Her arse cheeks were large, very white and very soft looking. Between these immense cheeks was a beautiful brown rosebud hole surrounded by the same lush chestnut hair that I’d seen years before. Just below her arsehole was her large, gaping cunt. It gaped wide open due to the fact that as she was bending to dry her legs her fat thighs were parted and her knees bent. Upon hearing the door open she stood upright and turned round to see what was happening. I think she thought that somehow a draught had blown the door open. When she saw me she just stood with her mouth open. At first I thought it must be because she just hadn’t expected to see anyone, especially me. After all, I was 200 miles away at university. When I finally looked up at her face I realised that her eyes were firmly fixed, not on my face, but lower down my body. It seems stupid to say now but I was so transfixed by what I saw that I totally forgot the fact that I was completely naked and my Mother was equally transfixed on my cock. What I saw was a wonderfully generously proportioned woman. Some would say fat but she looked exquisite to me. Her tits were huge and pendulous. Her nipples were large and extremely dark. But it was the aureole that I couldn’t take my eyes from. They must have measured at least three inches across and were every bit as dark as her nipples. She had a large but lovely tummy and I as my eyes moved downward I was reacquainted with that wonderful and very hairy cunt.

Well, that’s what I was looking at, which is why I hadn’t noticed what she was looking at. Her eyes were staring at what was now a fast hardening cock. All of this took just a matter of seconds but it all seemed to happen in slow motion. When I did realise where I was and what was happening, I instantly became aware of my cock throbbing as it thickened and hardened. Just as quickly I placed my hands over it and said a simple, "Sorry!" I backed out and closed the door.

Last time I wanked myself stupid over the vision I’d had. As I ran back to my room, I was desperate to wank myself to what I knew would be the climax to end all climaxes. I lay on my bed and wanked furiously. Within two minutes I got to the point of no return and just as I was about to explode, my bedroom door opened and there wrapped in a white towelling bath robe stood my Mother. Just in time to see probably my biggest ever load of spunk fly from my cock up into the air and land all over me. Instead of rushing out as I had done not three minutes earlier, Mother casually walked over to the chest of drawers and picked up the box of tissues. She walked over to my bed, sat down on the edge of the bed and started to mop up the spunk that had shot all over my belly as far up as my neck. When she had finished. She kissed me on the forehead, smiled, walked over to the waste bin, dropped the wet tissues in and left the room.

Later when I’d recovered and came into the kitchen, she thanked me for the flowers, thanked me for coming home to see her and asked what I’d like to eat. No more was said about either the incident in the bathroom or in my bedroom but both lived vividly in my memory.

In truth, the three years at university did seem to pass more quickly than either of us thought they might and, as most university graduates wanted to head for the bright lights of London and the other major cities I effortlessly moved into employment close to home. This was great for me. I was close to the area and people that I knew. And close to my Mother.

We established a normal, predictable routine, which moved from weeks into months and then into years. I went to work and when I came home we had dinner, washed up and settled down to watch TV, play a board game or go for a walk in the better weather. Sometimes, Mother’s friends would come round for an evening (even though they regularly met in the afternoons) and I would be treated to an opportunity to ‘eavesdrop’ on their conversation. I think we got to a stage when they actually forgot that I was there. Actually, they didn’t exactly forget I was there, they forgot that I wasn’t one of them. An older lady. This became more and more noticeable because of the subject matter of the conversations. At first, in the earlier conversations, they seemed quite guarded about what they would and wouldn’t talk about. Sometimes, one would look at the others in a certain way and the subject would quickly change. But as time went on this happened less and less until in the end some of the subjects were distinctly risqué.

And then one evening two things happened almost at the same time that was to occupy my thoughts for some time to come. The first was that they started to talk about children. At first it was back to the old theme about how badly children were behaved these days. A subject I’d heard them discuss many times before. Strangely, they all agreed that I was about the best behaved child they had ever known. I didn’t consider myself as ‘well behaved’ or ‘obedient’. I just enjoyed doing what my Mother said. I liked pleasing her and to do otherwise would have made me as unhappy as I would have made her. This time however, the conversation brought back recollections of the time they talked about Mother wanting other children. At least wanting a daughter.

The second thing that struck me, at precisely the same moment was that none of the women, apart from my mother, had any children of their own. In fact, none of them were even married. It seems absurd to me now that this had never occurred to me before. I suppose I’d grown up with these women having always been around and I’d just never thought of it. They were all single. In fact when I asked my Mother later she told me that two of them had been married for short times but were both divorced. I also discovered, that the four ladies lived in two pairs. It suddenly struck me that if I’d missed details so obvious in the past, how much more had I missed. I was either incredibly naive, just plain stupid or perhaps a bit of both.

Over the next few weeks, I gently probed my Mother for more information. Gradually, I was forming a conclusion that I found very difficult to come to terms with. The four of them had to be lesbians. It was unpalatable to me to think that this could be so but I could think of no other explanation that would fit all the facts. I hoped I was adding two and two and coming up with five but I feared that on this occasion I’d got the right answer.

There was only one way to find out and that was to ask my Mother. We did have a close relationship and I was sure I could ask her anything without her getting angry. Then another obvious thought flashed into my mind with such ferocity that I had to sit down and reassess the whole scenario. If I were right and they were lesbians. What was my Mother doing having them as friends? She couldn’t be a lesbian. She just couldn’t. Not my own Mother.

The more I thought about it the more it seemed she must be. And then the one fact that proved she couldn’t be hit me. On the night I burst into the bathroom, she couldn’t take her eyes off my cock. And the look on her face wasn’t disgust or even disinterest – it was desire. The same look she had on her face when she saw me shoot my load. No way was she a lesbian. So to ask her was OK. She wasn’t implicated.

I spent the whole evening bucking up the courage to raise the subject. Finally, I said, "Mum"

"Yes dear," she said.

"Can I ask you about your friends?"

"Yes of course you can dear. What do you want to know?"

I plucked up all my courage, took a deep breath and blurted out my question.

"Are they lesbians?"

My Mother looked up and stopped. Just stopped everything. It almost looked as though she’d stopped breathing. I got worried. Had I hurt her? Was she angry? She just looked as if I’d asked what she’d always knew one day I would ask.

"No dear" she said. It wasn’t a simple "no dear" that meant that was the end of the discussion. I knew she’d more to say.

"I knew that one day you’d ask but I never dreamed it would take you so long. I always thought you’d ask when you were in your mid-teens and so naturally inquisitive about such things. No, they are not lesbians. It’s not as simple as that. Some people are attracted to their own sex, others are attracted to the opposite sex and there are some people, more than you might think, who are attracted to both. My friends are in the third category. They like being with men and women sexually. They do however, find that women are better companions to live with. They find women more considerate, thoughtful and sensitive. They enjoy being with men for sexual relief but not to live with. They prefer to live with a woman."

Whilst I hadn’t expected that answer, it was delivered with my Mothers customary calm and sensitivity. This just left the second, obvious question.

"And how do you fit in Mum?" I said with my eyes firmly fixed on my hands which sat in my lap.

"Well dear" she said, "I find that my sympathies lie in the same direction as theirs. Whilst I enjoy sex with men I do enjoy being with a woman as well."

Enjoy sex with men she said. ‘Enjoy?’ Not ‘enjoyed’.

"You mean you’ve been with men since Dad died?" I said somewhat surprised and hurt.

"Oh Stephen, of course I have. Not only am I a woman but I’m a woman with very strong urges. I know you remember full well the incident a few years ago when you came into the bathroom and found me naked. Well, I remember it all too well. Not because you found me naked, heaven knows I’ve wanted you to see me naked so many times before that day, but because I saw you naked. It was all I could do to keep from lunging at you and grasping that lovely cock that was springing to life between you legs. Then when I came into your bedroom to apologise for staring at you I couldn’t believe the most wonderful sight of you shooting all that lovely spunk up into the air. I tell you I surprised even myself with the way that I calmly cleaned you up and then left."

I just sat listening to her with my mouth open.

"Listen darling. I love you and I love sharing my life with you but you have to understand one thing. My friends are absolutely right about one thing. Living with a woman is far better than living with a man. I should know. Living with your father was no picnic. I seldom saw him and when I did I was no more than a servant. I cooked, cleaned and when he wanted it I serviced him just like a common whore. I did everything he ever wanted and he spared not one thought for my needs or me. We never conversed and I felt so alone. So I decided that I would follow the lead of my friends and only live with a woman, never a man."

It was difficult to take this all in but I suddenly retorted.

"So where does that leave me? I’m a man and you’re happy living with me."

"Are you really a man, Stephen? Think about it. What do you do that’s peculiarly manly? Do you follow a football team? Go out drinking with your mates? Are your hobbies manly? Interest in cars? No my dear lovely Stephen, you really are not like a man at all, you’re really much more like a woman. Oh, in some respects you may look like a man, I can certainly vouch for that" she said with a wry smile on her face, "but you are more like a woman in the way you conduct yourself than even many women are. Even my friends say so. They love having you join us for our evenings. You are more like a daughter to me than most mothers have with their natural daughters. That's why we get on so well. That's why I love living with you and if you are honest, that's why you love living with me. I raised you to have a degree of finesse that you simply do not find in men. For the most part that are quite boorish and unrefined"

I sat stunned and my eyes pricked as I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. My Mother sat beside me on the sofa and cuddled me to her. She said, "There, there, I’m sorry if I hurt you. I knew we’d have this conversation one-day and I hoped I was gentle and kind because I do love you. I don’t want to hurt you, please believe me, you mean too much to me."

"Mum, I’m not hurt. I guess it’s all just a shock and if I’m honest, I know that what you say about me is all true. But where does that put me. A man who is really like a woman. A son who is more like a daughter. I’m not sure I am happy being like that. I do love living with you. I love our times together. I love the closeness of our relationship and I don’t want anyone or anything to spoil that. I just don’t know how to react."

"Believe me Stephen, nothing will spoil our relationship. You are like a daughter to me and the only way that could be spoiled is if you started to tried to act like a son, like a so-called man. The more you act like a daughter to me the more our relationship will blossom. I think we’ve talked enough for one night. I think we should go to bed and sleep. You’re tired and probably a bit confused. Know this though, I love you dearly and nothing will come between us."

"Mum, I’m frightened I’m going to lose you"

"Don’t be silly, I’m going nowhere."

I’d never felt so vulnerable before in my life. I simple cuddled up to her and hugged her for all I was worth, somehow frightened to let go.

"Listen, Stephen, if you’re worried you’ll lose me, what about if you sleep in my bed tonight and I’ll cuddle you all night long to prove that I love you."

"Mum, I’d love that. And I’ll cuddle up to you and be the best daughter I can be."

"In that case" Mum said, "will you do one thing for me?"

"Anything", I said, and meant.

"Wear a nightie for me just for tonight."

"Mum, I’ll wear it tonight and every other night if it proves to you that I love you as much as you love me."

"You don’t have to prove it to me, silly. I know you love me and I think things are going to get better and better for us from now on. Come on let get you in your nightie and get to bed."

 

Chapter Two – A Gentle Shift?

I spent the best night that I can remember. Cuddled up to my Mother, I felt more secure than I can ever remember feeling. As today was Saturday and I didn’t have to work, we awoke in our own time without the customary Monday to Friday alarm clock. When I woke, my Mother was facing my back with her arms around me. I don’t think she realised I was awake as she couldn’t see my face and she was gently stroking my cock. I would often wake up in the morning with a really hard erection and this morning, despite all that had taken place the night before, was no exception. As she stroked I began to wriggle a little to let her know that whether I was awake or still asleep, I loved the feeling. I could feel her pubic hair against my bottom, so I rubbed myself even harder pushing back. As I did so she pushed forward. With the stroking of my cock and the grinding of her pubes on my bottom I was not far off climaxing. Mother clearly knew this and pulled me onto my back whilst at the same time tightening her grip and increasing her hand speed. Her nightie had ridden up somewhat and her belly and cunt were now completely exposed. I could see her nipples pushing out through the thin cotton material. It was all too much and I shot a huge wad of cum up in the air. It landed all over her hand and because of the angle of my cock all over her belly and pubes. She kissed me on the forehead and then proceeded to push the spunk on her belly down to her cunt and rub it into her dark hole. She was clearly really excited by the whole episode and I asked her if I could do for her what she was at that time doing for herself. She sat up, removed her nightie completely and simply laid back exposing her whole generous form to me. To this point I have to explain that whilst I did have many friends at university and at the insurance company I worked for, I’d never had a girlfriend much less touched a girl. Looking back I suppose that boys were happy to be friends with me because I presented no competition to them with the girls and girls were happy with me because they didn’t see me as a potential conqueror, riding into their lives to rape and pillage. Consequently I think I was seen as ‘safe’ by both sides.

I tenderly inserted my finger into Mother’s hole and was really surprised at how wet she was. I expected it to be damp or even moist but she was soaking wet. In other circumstances I’d have sworn she had wet herself. As I moved my finger in and out she gently guided my hand so that my finger moved just out of the hole and rubbed a little bump just above the entrance at the top. Her groaning became noticeably louder. She began to urge me on.

"Wank me darling. Ooohh yes just there. That’s it. Flick it gently with your finger-tip. Ooohh yes just there."

Her calling out became more urgent and her language more profane. She was using words that I would never had thought she even knew, let alone would use. Suddenly, she jumped up and swung herself up the bed and on top of me. She was surprisingly agile for a very large lady. She finally settled with her wide-open cunt right above my face. I had never seen anything so beautiful. The lips gaped wide with fold after fold of plump flesh on either side. I could easily see the little lump that I had been rubbing looking quite red and angry. She lowered herself onto my face and instinctively I began to lick everywhere that my mouth came in contact with. Mother was therefore able to control things by moving backwards and forwards, left to right and even up and down when she wanted to increase the pressure. The musky fragrance was heady and I could smell my own spunk mingling with her sensual odour. After just a few minutes of my intense licking and her intense grinding, she pushed down so hard that I thought I would suffocate. She ground into my mouth and screamed a scream so loud that I thought it would be heard down the whole street. She became even wetter at this point as a torrent of her juices flooded my mouth, soaking my face, hair and neck. She threw herself off me and laid on the bed frantically rubbing her fat thighs together in the afterthrows of her orgasm.

As we laid there cuddling each other, Mother said, "I cannot remember the last time I came with such force, my darling."

"That was truly wonderful. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Learn what?" I asked

"To lick like that. How many women did you practice on at university to be that good?"

"Mother!" I said a little embarrassed at the fact that she thought I’d had that many women.

"I’ve never done that to a girl before."

"What?" she said.

"I’ve never done that or anything else to a girl before."

"Never been with a woman?"

"What about with boys?"

"Mother!" I was affronted.

"Why ever not? They can be quite lovely. Haven’t you ever fancied a boy"

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to answer. She could tell from my inflamed cheeks that I had.

"Darling why have you never had sex with anyone before? Please tell me, I want to help. It’s not good for a person to be so frustrated for so long."

After swallowing hard I said in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, "I don’t know, I guess it’s like you said, I’m not man enough for the girls and not girl enough for the men. I get on really well with all the people at work, just like at Uni. but they don’t seem interested in me in that way."

"Tell me," she said "do you get on better with the men at work or the women."

"Both, I guess," I said, "I suppose I do seem to spend more time chatting to the women at coffee and lunch times though."

"You know darling," she said, "I do think you are more like a daughter than you or even I thought. When you said last night that you’d be the best daughter you could be, what exactly did you mean."

She kind of stumped me with that one. I had no idea quite what I had meant, other than there was an instinctive drive in me to be the best at what ever I had committed to do. I also had a need to please my Mother. Not because I needed to win her approval or anything that crass but out of genuine love for her.

I explained how I felt to her and she laid there thinking for a few moments before saying, "Do you really mean that you would be a daughter for me. Truly the daughter I never had and always wanted?"

"Mum, you know I would do anything for you. Just ask and it’s yours."

Some might see those as rash words but I meant them and nothing she could ask would have meant that I would not have been prepared to deliver.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "you did spend last night in one of my nighties.....and today is Saturday so you don’t have to go to work........and we would be spending the day together anyway..........so........"

"Come on Mother," I said in a teasing manner, "get to the point."

"Well, would you spend the whole day dressed as my daughter?"

"Mother, if it will please you I will spend the whole weekend dressed as your daughter."

"Oh! You are the sweetest son a mother could have," she said.

"Yes but for today I’ll be the sweetest daughter a mother could have" I said.

She laughed out loud and any tension that might of been there instantly evaporated.

A new relationship began that morning. As close as we’d always been to each other we suddenly became even closer that morning. I went into the bathroom to shave and Mother came in and sat down on the toilet for her first session of the day. There was I shaving and my mother was weeing and pooping on the toilet just 18 inches from where I was standing. She squatted as she stood to wipe herself front and back, leant over and kissed my cheek as she pushed the handle down to flush the toilet. She then got into the shower and I was treated to the exquisite sight of a very plump figure stretching and bending in all positions through the frosted glass of the shower cubicle.

Before I got into the shower Mother asked if I would mind if she removed my body hair so that I would look more the part of a daughter.

"Of course not," I said, "do you want me to shave it all off, only I’m not sure how I will do my back and if you do it you may cut me as you’re not used to using a razor."

"No don’t bother with that, we’ll use hair removing cream. I keep well stocked up for when I do my legs and under my arms, I’m sure I have enough."

She then spread the pungent cream all over me with a spatula, leaving only my pubes intact. We waited 10 minutes and she gently scraped all the hair off. Any residue was washed away when I showered. Mother helped me pat my newly sensitive skin dry and applied some fragrant body lotion all over me.

"Now lets get dressed," she said.

"Do you mind wearing some of my clothes darling, only I don’t have any others at present. I will get some especially for you but will they do for now."

 

Get some for me were the first words that indicated that this was to be a more enduring act than the one off that I assumed it was to be. Not that I minded at all. After all, I was the one who said that I would dress all weekend not just for the Saturday.

We got dressed simultaneously. As Mother put an article on, she helped me put a similar one.

My mother, and indeed her friends, are respectable somewhat conservative ladies, so her clothes were in keeping with this.

She first brought out two corselettes for us to wear. All elastic, they encompassed a bra top right down to the suspenders at the bottom to hold up our stockings. Mother explained that some corselettes do have a clip under bottom but she preferred the open bottomed type so she could get to her knickers, and her cunt, easier.

She stepped into hers pulling the cups over her huge breasts and I followed suit stepping into mine. Unfortunately, I had no breasts, huge or otherwise to fill the cups with, so we padded out the cups with a copious amount of paper tissues. Next she put on some flesh-coloured stockings that she clipped onto her suspenders and helped me with mine. The feel of the nylon on my newly exposed legs was exhilarating. We both stepped into our white cotton knickers. Mother knickers are very full and frankly she did fill them out so much better than I did. She found us some shoes to wear. She doesn’t wear incredibly high heels so they were much easier to walk in than I’d feared. A short sleeved cotton print dress was provided for me and Mother wore one very similar.

Next she sat and put on her make-up. Again she went first and then she did me. Powder, a little eye shadow and lipstick was applied. Like Mother I have a natural wave in my hair and Mother found that a little coaxing with curlers and tongs easily turned my hair to a short but authentic looking female style. Certainly one that is not unpopular amongst women of her age. It was when I was practising walking up and down in the heels that it became obvious, to Mother at least, that there was something not quite right. As I moved I found that despite my best efforts to look feminine, which my mother complimented me on, I just didn’t move right. Suddenly, she cried, "It’s your breasts!" "What about them," I said. "They don’t move. They’re too light." I must have looked somewhat puzzled.

"You see darling tits like mine are really very heavy. That’s why they sag over the years. If I’d been a slight girl with small tits, they would probably have stayed quite firm." I wasn’t sure that I liked the idea of my mother with tiny tits. I liked the cushioned effect as I cuddled up to her and now having seen them naked I thought they looked the most splendid tits in the world.

"As a big woman," she continued, "they sag and whilst you now look just like a big woman, you have no sag, because there’s no weight. It doesn’t look real. We have to give you some weight to carry there."

Well, we tried all sorts of different things until Mother hit upon a brilliant solution. We got some balloons from the cupboard and filled them with warm water. Tied them off and placed them in the bra cups. It was fantastic. As I walked they moved just like real boobs. I didn’t know what real boobs felt like bouncing in a bra but to my mind, they felt like real boobs. And additionally, by placing the end of the balloon where you tie it off at the front it looked like I had nice nipples pressing against the cups of my corselette. We had achieved the right look in next to no time.

Mother was so keen for me to go out like this. "I’ve never been shopping with my daughter, so can I now?"

"I don’t know Mother, people will see me and laugh." I said.

"Stephen, of course they won’t, silly, all they will see is a mother and daughter out shopping. You look wonderful. You don’t really think I’d expose the one person in the world that I love most to ridicule do you? You are my daughter. You look like it, you move like it you even sound like it. You look lovely and I want to let everyone see that."

"Well, they certainly will know something’s up if you call me Stephen while we’re out." I said.

"Yes, of course, you’re right, you need a girls name."

"Well, you gave me the name Stephen, was there a name you had in mind if I’d have been born a girl?"

"Well that’s just it. The name I really wanted, set my heart upon was Stephanie. But when you were born I was so disappointed you weren’t a girl that I really couldn’t set my mind to making an original choice so I settled on shortening it to Stephen."

"Well, Stephanie it is then. It might make things easier in other ways as well. At least it’s not even a change to my initials."

Mother and I drove to the town and parked the car. It felt so strange to be out with the breeze gently blowing up my dress and cooling my nether regions. We didn’t shop for anything special before lunch, just window-shopped and enjoyed being out together. For lunch we went to a lovely teashop that was part of a small department store. Having had two cups of tea I badly needed to go to the toilet. Mother accompanied me but only after reminding me that we were going to the ‘ladies’ and not the ‘gents’. She also reminded me that ladies sit to wee, a fact that brought back the vision of my mother sitting on the toilet just that morning. That vision started to get me hard. I told Mother that I thought I might be having a problem. She told me that I’d just have to make sure that I kept it against my belly and that my corselette would keep it in place. When we got to the ladies she had to concede that that just wasn’t working. "Frankly darling, I could see the bulge as I was walking alongside you to the toilet. Go in one of the cubicles and when you’ve been wee give yourself a wank. I did as I was told but couldn’t cum. Mother was waiting outside applying a little powder. Not that she needed any but she had to look like he was there for a legitimate purpose. I was frantically trying to cum but the more I tried the less I’ knew I’d make it.

Mother asked in a whisper through the door if I was OK and I said, "No, not really."

With no-one else in there at the time she told me to open the door. I did and she came in. "My goodness darling, you really are very hard aren’t you. We must do something about it, there’s no way you can go out like that, we’d never hide it. What can I do to help?"

Tearfully, I started to say, "I don’t know."

"There, there darling don’t fret, Mummy will sort it."

Although the cubicle wasn’t that big Mother removed her dress and slipped her knickers down to her ankles. She then bent over the lavatory and said, "Right, slip it in."

"Mother," I said, "I can’t do that to you and even if I could I certainly couldn’t do it in here."

From over her shoulder she said, "Of course, you can darling, I’d love you to, please, for Mummy."

So I slid my thick and very hard cock in between her thighs where using one hand she guided me in. To feel her hairy lips against the sensitive tip of my cock was incredible. I slid the length the length in until my tummy pressed against her fleshy round buttocks. I steadied myself by holding onto her fat hips and started to pump. As I pumped I looked down and could see her arsehole almost pulsating. She started to grunt like a pig as she tried to stifle those screams that I’d heard just that morning. My mother was obviously enjoying this as much as I was although it’s difficult to relax and really enjoy things in this type of almost surreal situation. I didn’t have to pump very long before I sprayed my mother’s womb with a thick wad of hot creamy spunk and what a load it was. When she felt that I was fully spent she quickly pulled her knickers up.

"Mum, don’t you want to wipe it away?" I said.

"What? And waste it all, no of course I don’t. Darling the feeling of walking around with a cunt full of spunk is absolutely lovely. Gradually some of it will start oozing out into my knickers and that sensation is so naughty that I love it as much."

"But what if you get pregnant?" I replied

"Now that’s not going to happen, silly girl. I’m already well through my change aren’t I. I can’t get pregnant now by you or anyone else."

We straightened ourselves up and left the toilet and the store. After that episode shopping was pretty uneventful. Mum wanted to buy me some clothes that I could call my own but I managed to persuade her that, if she didn’t mind, I’d rather wear her clothes. I found them exciting. They were elegant and smart and most of all – hers.

On the way home Mother stopped the car outside two of her friends’ home. It was a house not dissimilar to our own. Fairly unremarkable although beautifully kept. The front garden was immaculate and the interior decor was tasteful and stylish. This was the first time that I had been with Mothers friends outside the normal group of five.

Emma was a lovely lady. She sat with a permanent smile upon her face and nothing ever seemed to rile her. She always saw the best in people and was a thoroughly nice person to be around. Whilst all my mothers friends were rotund like herself, Emma was particular in one distinct way. English ladies are often said to be ‘pear-shaped’ invariably being larger round their bottom half than the top, an unpopular fact that seems to occupy their every waking thought. On whatever scale you might choose to measure these things, one thing is for sure, Emma is at the top of the scale. She had the largest bottom I have ever seen on a woman. Amazingly, she still carried herself with a grace that is often non-existent in many women half her size.

They say opposites attract and in that respect Olive was the perfect complement to Emma. Olive had an opinion on almost every subject raised and knew how to compellingly argue it. She was assertive without any trace of aggression. Still a very pleasant lady she was physically opposite to Emma in that whilst still very large, her bottom was in proportion to the rest of her. If her bottom was in proportion there was no doubt that her bust wasn’t. I couldn’t begin to guess how many boxes of paper tissues Mother would have had to use if we tried to pad out one of Olive’s bras.

Well, we had tea and chatted as though we always did this on a Saturday afternoon. They paid no attention to my being dressed up and treated me in just the same way that I’d come to be treated over the past few years – as one of them. We were almost at the point of leaving when Mother blurted out the question that I’d ask just the night before. "Stephanie asked me last night if you and two and Jane and Marjorie were lesbians."

It was that cool. She’d used exactly the same words I’d used. I was embarrassed at how inelegantly I’d put it last night and that my own mother could be so crass as to recall something that personal in such a stark manner. I felt my cheeks burn and I could only sit with my hands in my lap and watch them twiddle with a length of ribbon.

"Stephanie, my dear," said Emma, "please don’t be embarrassed. We all knew that you’d ask sooner or later and to be frank, I think we’re surprised it is this late."

"That’s exactly what I told her," Mother said.

Olive took up the conversation. "You have to realise, Stephanie, that Jane and I have both been married and know what living with a man is like and we don’t hate them."

Oh no, no, no," said Emma, "we love them, just not living with them."

"We all decided," said Mother, "long ago that when you asked we would be open and honest with you. Open to the point that you could have no questions left because we would have answered them all."

"And one more thing," said Olive, "I don’t know whether your mother has told you but as far as we are all concerned whilst you may physically look a lot different to us, although we really do look quite a lot different from each other, we consider you to be just like us. You obviously like our company, and I personally, would venture to guess that you prefer it to the company of other men. Again personally, I value your company and would be very sad indeed if you now decided you didn’t want to be part of our little group."

I was still sitting with my gaze fixed on my hands and my cheeks burning just as hotly. The conversation just stopped. I realised much later that Olive had this ability to say something in such a way that it was really ver difficult to follow. On this occasion they all just sat and were evidently waiting for me to speak.

I took a deep breath and said just what I felt. "Far from wishing to distance myself from your group I wish I could be even more a part of it. I wish I were more like you all in every way. I can’t think of anything nicer that to be just like you and the saddest part of what I have just said is that I know that it cannot be. I am not really like you at all although Mother dressing and treating me as her daughter has been a wonderful experience that I can only hope she wishes to continue. Whilst you are all so refined, elegant and feminine I am so clumsy and crude and as you would say a typical boorish man," and having spoken out I burst into tears.

All three came rushing over to the armchair I was sitting in to comfort me. They truly were kind in the way that they spoke and dried my eyes and in the way that they disagreed with almost everything I had said. Evidently, I wasn’t clumsy or crude or boorish. I was no more like a man than they were and they were delighted and complimented by the fact that I so obviously wanted to be like them.

"Susan," Olive said, addressing my mother, "why don’t you and Stephanie stop for some dinner with us now. I’ll telephone Jane and Marjorie and ask them to come over and we’ll put our collective heads together and work out what’s best to do."

Mother looked at me to see whether I wanted to, probably fearing that I would rather leave. I just nodded through my handkerchief.

Olive and Mother went off to start preparing the meal leaving Emma and me sitting on the sofa. Emma sat with her arm round my shoulders telling me how it would all be alright. "You know, if anyone can see a way through situations that confound everyone else it’s Marjorie."

Marjorie did have one of those incisive minds that cut straight to the heart of the issue. She had trained as something to do with psychology years ago and would listen to a conversation, saying nothing, and would suddenly come out with a comment that could stop every one in their tracks because of it’s simple use of detached logic.

Jane and Marjorie arrived. Unlike Emma and Olive, who were really quite different to each other and complemented themselves in that way, Jane and Marjorie looked like sisters. They had different personalities of course but they looked like two peas from the same pod. Mother sat them down with me and recounted everything including, to my amazement what took place that morning and in the toilet. She told them of my feelings so that I didn’t have to say it all again and get myself even more upset.

Dinner was a lovely time and although I was much quieter than usual I did join in at times. The others were quite aware that I was subdued and when we sat down after dinner with some coffee, we got down to ‘the business in hand’.

As I had expected, after much talking Marjorie spoke up.

"Stephanie, my darling girl, can I just confirm a few things."

I nodded.

"Are we right in surmising that you feel so close to us that you would actually rather be like us than like you currently are?"

"Yes." I said quietly.

"Are you really sure?" said Marjorie.

"Oh! Yes Marjorie, I really am very sure."

"Forgive me my dear, but isn’t this all a bit sudden. After all it was only last evening that you began discussing things with your mother. Today was your first times as a girl and you suddenly decide that you want to be a woman. How can you be so sure."

Marjorie had cut to the chase. It was all very sudden, but too sudden? Were my feelings genuine or were they betraying me in some warped way? I sat quietly for a few moments before replying.

"All I can say is this. I do genuinely feel this way. You are quite right, it is sudden, but not too sudden. If I were to rationalise it I would say that I have wanted to be like you all for a long, long time. It wasn’t until now that I’ve realised in what way I was still different. I always thought of myself as the same as you but different. I know that doesn’t make sense but it does to me. If I could snap my fingers now and be just like you, any one of you, I would snap my fingers without a moments hesitation."

"Well, my dear, I for one am convinced and will do everything necessary to make this happen successfully." Said Marjorie.

Everyone sighed as if the ‘seal of approval’ had been given, as if some great weight had been lifted off our collective shoulders.

"Forgive me," I said breaking up the revelry, "but what exactly can be done?"

"Oh, that’s the easy part my dear. That path is quite clear. We must all help you to become a woman."

Everyone nodded as if they had known the answer all along. They even looked as if they knew exactly what was to take place.

"Stephanie," Mother said, "over the years we have talked about many things between us. Years ago when we decided that when you asked us about our sexuality we would tell you everything, we also thought about what we would do depending on your response. We thought that one of the outcomes might be that you’d desire to be a woman yourself. I personally, hoped you’d say that. The fact that you’d like to continue wearing my clothes and not those normally worn by younger women and the fact that you’d like to be more like us than a young flighty girl is beyond anything I could have dreamed of. We know what to do and if you will entrust yourself to us we will make you very happy. But please understand this, it will be a long road, much longer than you think. We are not talking about a simple operation and you will be a woman. Oh, there are people who do it like that but they only become a woman physically. We want you to become a woman experientially."

I had little understanding about what my mother had just said, and they could see it on my face, but I knew enough to say, "I’ll place myself entirely in our hands."

"Right," said Marjorie, assuming command again, "firstly, we will outline the entire plan for you so you know what’s happening, why it’s happening and your role in it.

You will move through a number of stages in your transition to womanhood. For this you will need to leave your job and don’t worry about how you’ll manage financially, we are all quite comfortably off and as we’re all in this together we all bear the joy and responsibility of the programme. Susan, why don’t you explain to your daughter what will happen."

"Very well. Stephanie, with Marjorie’s help we realised a long time ago that if you were to transition you needed to experience growing into a woman rather than just becoming one. None of us was born a woman. We were born as baby girls. Grew into little schoolgirls, then bigger schoolgirls, teenagers, young women and then fully mature women. Stephanie, Marjorie thinks and we all agree that you should go through the same sort of transition. Of course it can’t be over the same period of time but you need it to happen. More than that, and I’ve only come to realise this today, I need it to happen as well. Suddenly, having a fully-grown daughter has been a bit of a shock to me too. I missed out on having a baby girl who would gradually grow up.

Our plan is this. First, you will go into a private clinic that we had already identified for some surgery. You will be there for nine weeks where they will permanently remove all your male body hair leaving only your pubic hair and hair under your arms. That will then be removed with conventional hair removing cream so that it can grow back in future. They will then reform your cock and balls into a beautiful little vagina. It will be reformed to look exactly like a baby girls. It will be small and very tight, just a slit. You will begin a prescribed a course of hormones, which will begin to take effect on both your emotions and your physique. Physically, the course will make you chubby in a short period of time. This will make you look a little more like a baby early on and will help as you move through to maturity as a woman. They will make a small adjustment to your vocal chords as well. You will not have any breast implants at all. When they are finished you will look just like a large baby girl. When you return to us we will treat you as a baby girl for three months."

"If I can interject for just a moment Susan," said Jane, "We have also taken care to consider your mothers position as well Stephanie. We feel it is most important that for the nine weeks you are away she has an experience that is aligned to your own. Quite separately she will attend the same clinic for a small procedure. She will have what can only be described as a ‘bladder’ in her womb. This will be gradually inflated over the nine weeks until she will finally look nine months pregnant. In other words, each week she will grow the equivalent of one month. Just before you return she will embark on a ‘birthing’ process that we have devised that will culminate in her giving birth to a new baby girl – you."

"Thankyou Jane. I have to admit to being slightly apprehensive about my ‘pregnancy but greatly thrilled at the same time. If I can remember that far back, I recall feeling exactly the same mix of emotions the first time around. Now, back to you Stephanie. I was saying that you will remain a baby girl for three months. After the three months you will be allowed to grow up into a little girl and will spend the next six months gradually growing up. In nine months time you will spend three months as a young schoolgirl although still living at home. This means that in one year’s time you will be ready to go to girls’ boarding school. During the six months you spend there you will have two small operations, both to insert implants into by now growing bust. The first operation will take you from an A cup to a B cup. The second operation will increase you to a C cup. You will be able to decide what ultimate size you want your tits to be when you are a fully-grown woman, which will be in nearly 2 years time. All of this can start just as soon as Marjorie can make the arrangements but you have to agree to it and we certainly do not want to push you into doing it now or doing it at all."

The precise nature of every detail had taken my breath away somewhat. I sat there dazed but with a smile on my face that must have resembled a little child on Christmas morning. Without hesitation I simply said "Oh, yes, please."

Mother said, "Stephanie are you really sure? It is a big step."

"Mother," I said, "at this moment I am more sure of wanting this to happen than anything else I can think of. If you don’t go ahead I will be quite the most miserable person you have ever seen. Marjorie, please make the arrangements and pleas do ask if they can take me as soon as possible. If I could right at this minute I would not hesitate for a single second."

Marjorie said, "When I initially checked up on all this they said they would need at least a couple of days notice. I know it’s late but I’ll try them on the phone now."

When she came back she said just one word, "Monday."

I couldn’t wait for Monday to come.

 

 

Chapter Three – My Transformation Begins

When we arrived home on Saturday evening I was exhausted and I’m sure Mother felt the same. We kicked off our shoes and settled down with a cup of hot chocolate before turning in for bed. It felt so nice, mother and daughter sitting together on the sofa sipping a bedtime drink. Mother asked where I would like to sleep tonight although I think she already had a good idea I’d say with her. We changed into our nighties and fell into bed. We hugged and I’m sure neither of us thought that we would simply drop off to sleep but that’s exactly what happened.

The next thing I knew was that it was morning as I awoke in the bed alone. For a mere second I was scared that something bad had happened. I t was an irrational fear but they are so often the most frightening.

I climbed out of bed and went to the toilet, remembering to sit. As I was weeing, Mother came in. She’d been to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for us both and had brought them to the bedroom.

"What does it feel like to wee from your fanny Mother," I asked

"I’m not sure I can explain it dear," she replied.

"Can I watch when you go?" I asked.

"Well you did yesterday," she said.

"No I mean really close up."

"Of course you can if you want to darling. Let me drink my tea and I’m sure I’ll need to go. If you wait until I’ve had breakfast you can watch me poop," she giggled.

"I’d really like that," I said much to her surprise.

She was right. After breakfast she was indeed ready for a wee and a shit. She sat well back on the seat and leant against the cistern so I could get a really good view of her fanny as the wee gushed from her. She then turned 180 degrees around so she was facing the cistern and leant as far forward as she could. By crouching on the floor I could see her arsehole clearly and was rewarded as her first turd appeared. It pushed the arsehole open and grew to about nine inches before a spasm in her hole cut it off causing it to drop with a splash down the pan. When she finished she asked if I’d like to clean her up as she would be spending a lot of time cleaning me up over the next few months. I was pleased to and she told me all about how ladies are to clean themselves to avoid any chance of infection.

"Mum, that was really lovely," was all I could say, and then followed up by saying, "and when I’m all grown up I want to look just like you."

"Well dear, I dare say you will look quite a lot like me. You know daughter often grow up to look like their mothers. I certainly did."

"Mother, are all women as hairy as you?" I asked.

"No dear, not all. I am quite hairy but by no means the hairiest. Marjorie is quite the hairiest woman I have personally ever seen. Not only in the immediate are of her cunt either. Her arsehole is a forest. You would have had a job seeing exactly where the turd was coming from if you’d been watching Marjorie just now. And her hair covers her thighs and tummy right up to her navel. On the other hand Jane had so little there that she decided that she might as well not have any. She covered the area with a gentle hair removing cream and washed it all away. You know, her hair cannot have been very resilient because it has never grown back. She is completely hairless between her legs."

"Just like I’ll be soon."

"Just like you’ll be tomorrow darling, although you’ll be quite different from Jane in one major way."

"Oh, what’s that?"

"Well, when you were at school and at university did you ever have to shower with the other boys?"

"Yes, at school after we’d finished PE and once at uni. when a number of us went swimming. Why?"

"Well did all the boys look the same? You know their cocks and balls? Were they all the same?"

"Well no they weren’t, I guess."

"Come on darling, don’t be bashful. I’m being honest with you about a lot of things and honesty is a two way street. How were they different?"

Well, some were obviously much larger than others. Some had been circumcised and some were more like me. Strangely, some seemed much darker than others yet the boys were much the same colour everywhere else. Some boys were very hairy although non of them were like Jane without any hair."

"And what was the biggest you ever saw?"

I coloured up considerably as I remembered a specific occasion at school.

"One of the boys at school was quite large and every time we showered and I saw him I seemed to be transfixed by it. I just couldn’t take my eyes off it. Anyway, one day I helped clear all the gym gear away and so I was the last into and then out of the showers and by the time I got back in the changing room everyone had gone. At least I thought they’d all gone. As I turned the corner of the showers I saw this boy. He was laying on the bench wanking his cock. He was huge and the knob at the top looked like it was going to explode. It wasn’t only that his cock was long but it was so thick. He certainly couldn’t get his hand all the way round it. I stayed there and watched as he wanked for a good few minutes and the knob that looked like it was going to explode did indeed explode. I quietly ducked back round the corner and stayed there until he dressed and left, then I did."

"My, that sounds like quite an experience. Did the picture of what happened stay with you."

I coloured even more but knew that I had to, no wanted to be honest.

"I wanked myself off every morning and every night for weeks just thinking of him."

There was a bit of a silence that descended as Mum perhaps thought I was going to add more but I wasn’t. There wasn’t anything else to add.

"So what’s this all got to do with Jane and how she looks different to how I’ll look soon?"

Oh yes, I’d quite forgotten what started all that. Got lost in thought about such a large cock. Well, in the same way that all those boys’ cocks were different and by the same token all men’s’ cocks are different, well girls vaginas are all different. Soon you will have a nice tight little slit, bald yes, but nice and tight. Jane on the other hand has pussy lips that are simply huge. They hang down outside her, meaning that her hole is always open. There is just fold after fold of fleshy cunt lip that hang out of her. I have to admit that there is nothing quite like having your head between her thighs and sucking that flesh into your mouth. A real mouthful I’ll tell you."

Hearing my own mother speak in this way was exciting and shocking both at the same time. My face must have been the colour of a London bus because Mother picked up the conversation.

"I’m sorry dear, I’m embarrassing you but you need to know everything. No, I want you to know everything. All five of us regularly get together and enjoy each others bodies. Although Marjorie and Jane live together and Emma and Olive live together and I live with you, we swap partners and often stay all together just enjoying what ever takes our fancy. Sometimes we’ll be on our own but sometimes we’ll have a man or some men there."

"I can see that from your face this shocks you," looking down she continued, "and from another quarter it seems to excite you. I think we should relieve you of that hardness? It must be painful. How can I help?"

"You seem to have done quite well up to now without suggestions from me so why don’t you choose," I said with a smile on my slightly less red face.

"Well why don’t we have a slightly more relaxed time than we had yesterday in the toilet."

With that she took off her nightie and knelt on her hands and knees on the bed. I climbed on behind her and like yesterday slipped my cock between her massive thighs and, again she helped me into her waiting cunt. Unlike yesterday, I was able to relax and get a slower and more enjoyable pace going. Unlike yesterday, Mother was able to grunt like a pig audibly rather than suppressing her screams of ecstasy.

I had been fucking her for a few minutes when she put her hand back between her legs. I thought she must want to adjust my cock into a more comfortable or pleasing position for her but as she grasped my cock she jiggled her hips and pushed back on my cock with it’s tip right against her arsehole. As I looked down at what was happening I saw my cock completely disappear into her arsehole. Whilst I was enjoying the feeling of her cunt walls gripping my cock, the feeling of secret hole was sensational. She was so tight and was able to grip me even harder now than before. As I rode her she was doing her part by matching my rhythm and meeting my thrusts by pushing backwards with quite some force. Needless to say, I couldn’t keep this up for very long and shot my load of spunk deep into her bowel. All of this was accompanied by Mother squealing like a pig and me grunting like a horse. The force of our fucking left us both collapsed and spent on the bed and we promptly dropped off to sleep through sheer exhaustion.

When I awoke I was treated to one of my most abiding visions. My face was close enough to Mother’s bottom to be able to kiss it if I had wanted. Dribbling from her arsehole was a gentle stream of my spunk, running down her thigh and onto the bed sheet. I slowly inserted my finger into her arsehole. Mother wriggled and moaned her approval. I wiped her hole with a tissue and then started to lick it. She moaned louder and slowly shifted her position until in the end she was on her knees again with her hand between her thighs. As I licked she wanked herself more and more furiously until she climaxed with a loud shriek. She collapsed onto the bed again where I left her to sleep and recover slowly. I showered and slipped on Mother’s robe. When I returned to the bedroom with a cup of tea for her she was just emerging from the shower herself. We used the same process to dress as we had used on Saturday but with more casual clothes. Mother wore a very brief thong, leggings with a very large T-shirt thrown over her braless top. With some casual deck shoes on and a scarf wrapped around her head she was finished. I, on the other hand, wore a bra, with balloons, large frilly knickers, a very short skirt, and short blouse that left by tummy showing and heels. When I asked Mother where these more exciting clothes had come from she simply said, "Darling, you don’t think I always dress as a representative of the ‘blue rinse set’ do you?"

Mother and I spent Sunday on our own. The others considerately felt that we ought to have some time alone together. There was so much to come to terms with. So much had happened over so short a period of time. It was a delightful day. Mother persuaded me that a pub lunch would be best and that no one would take any notice of either of us and again she was right, well almost. I did see a number of men, not all older I might add, who simply could not take their eyes of Mother’s swaying tits as they swung free under her top. She obviously saw them looking at her because her nipples became very hard and really quite pronounced.

The afternoon was spent dozing in the garden and in the evening I started to pack some things in a bag for the next day. Mother very quickly put all my things back in their old place and explained that since I was to become a new person the things from my old self would be quite redundant. She did however remind me that I needed to write a letter to my boss Mrs. Cann resigning from the company. So when Monday morning arrived I got into Marjorie’s car with no bag or anything from my life as Stephen and with the knowledge that when I returned in 9 weeks time all my things would be gone and replaced with what was needed for Baby Stephanie.

Unbeknown to me at this time was the fact that Emma and Olive had suggested that they take on the role of interior designers and would have my room redecorated and all my possessions replaced. I think this was a great deal off my mother’s mind. She was going to have enough to cope with being ‘pregnant’. It also reinforced in her mind the fact that she wasn’t in this alone, they were all there to support her and they saw a positive role for them all.

So, Marjorie and Jane accompanied me on the 80-mile drive to the clinic. It turned out to be an old house deep in England’s countryside, with it’s own grounds and a stony drive up to the main door. Marjorie booked me in and both she and Jane came with me as a nurse escorted us to my bedroom. I was told to take off my clothes, which were put in a bag and would be taken back to Mother by Jane. Jane then stood to face me with her hands on my shoulders and looked me full in the eyes.

"Stephanie, please be a good girl. Everyone here is here to help you so please do as they ask. Your Mother will not be visiting you as this would mean that she will see her baby girl before completing her term but one of us will be along to see you each day. Stephanie, know this, we all love you very much. Probably more than you can imagine. We will do everything to ensure that the plan brings you, your mother and us a great deal of happiness. Everything is going to be wonderful my dear, just try and relax, you’ll enjoy things so much more that way I’m sure."

With that they both kissed me affectionately on the cheek and left. I sat there wondering what I should do next. I didn’t have long to wonder because the door opened and in walked a nurse. She was quite unlike the pretty young girl who had shown us to the room. This one was more like an old fashioned matron. She stood there observing me for a full minute before her faced burst into the broadest smile I had seen all day. Her whole demeanour changed and she now looked more like a lovely old maiden aunt.

"Yes, you’ll do Stephanie. You will make a wonderful little girl. Sorry if I worried you, I just wanted to check your facial bone structure. I’m Dr. Gage. I’ll be performing the surgery and overseeing your stay with us here at Lowmeads."

And I thought she was ‘just a nurse’. Dr. Gage explained what precisely was going to happen during my stay and paid particular attention to explain the timings of everything. At the end she summarised it all by pinning a copy of the diary of events on the little notice board by my bed. She explained that for some of the time they would need my complete co-operation whilst at other times I would be sedated and would know little or nothing of what was happening. I stood a good chance of losing whole days from my memory, as I would go to sleep one day and not wake again for maybe three days. She put me totally at ease and said that they would start that day by giving me some hormone injections and permanently removing most of my body hair.

The same young nurse that showed me to the room returned to give me the injections. I discovered her name was Joanna. She talked incessantly about being a girl and how nice it will be for me when I’m a fully-grown woman. I had one jab in each buttock, one in my cock (which was a bit painful), one near each nipple and finally a larger one in my arm.

The laser removal of my hair was not in the least painful but really quite boring. Because Mother had removed my body hair just a couple of days earlier there wasn’t a great deal to see as the laser beam scanned across my body killing of the hair follicles. When it came to between my legs they had to be extremely careful to leave me a luxuriant bush of pubic hair but remove the hair around it. They spend a very long time on my face. Not only did the beam erase my beard and sideburns but also around my eyebrows. This was particularly intricate work so I had to lie extremely still. When they had finished with the laser, and much to my surprise, they removed my under arm hair again and my pubic hair with, what they told me was a particularly strong hair removing gel. They told me not to expect any growth there for at least nine months and probably nearer a year.

I was then taken back to my room and dressed in a hospital nightie by Joanna. She brought me a light salad and when I’d finished she took the tray away and giving me a kiss on the forehead tucked me up for the night and turned the light off.

Dr. Gage was true to her word because I really knew little of what took place over the next days and weeks. I know I drifted into consciousness at times and was aware of seeing Joanna, Dr. Gage, Emma, Jane, Olive and Marjorie at times. But it was difficult to know what was reality and what was my dreamworld as at times I seemed to see school friends, my old boss and even Mother.

The first time I knew for sure I was awake, I awoke to see lovely warm sunshine shining into my room, gently blowing the net curtain at the window. I lay there for a few minutes just looking at the sunshine on the ceiling and trying to decide how I felt. Suddenly a voice softly said, "Your back with us then darling?"

I turned my head to see the smiling face of Emma. I was so pleased to see her and felt such a sense of love that I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. They started to run down my cheeks.

"There, there, darling," Emma said soothingly dabbing my eyes with a handkerchief.

"There’s nothing to cry for, you’re fine. Everything’s alright."

"I know," was all I could sob, "I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I just feel emotional. Not unhappy, I’m so happy but a bit emotional."

"It’s probably the hormones. They’ll settle down. How do you feel, physically I mean?"

"I don’t know," I said, "weak, for a start."

"Well you will feel weak for a long while!" It was Joanna entering the room with a bright cheery smile and a bounce in her step.

"You’ve had surgery, no exercise for nearly 3 weeks and you’ve slept nearly all that time."

"Three weeks!" I said, "it can’t be three weeks."

"Well, it is, three weeks and one day to be precise," said Joanna.

"And one of us has been with you every day," said Emma.

"How’s Mother," I asked.

"Blooming! You know I have known your mother for the better part of 20 years and I can honestly say I have never seen her look better. She looks positively radiant. She cam in here the day they started on you and left the following morning. She has quite a tummy on her now. She’s not far off being half way through her term. We banned her from asking after you but she takes no notice and keeps asking. All Marjorie says is that baby appears to be doing nicely ‘in there’. We’re trying to keep a video diary of her pregnancy so you can see it when you’re all grown up"

I tried to smile but felt too weak.

"If I’ve been asleep for three weeks"

"And one day," interjected Joanna.

"Three weeks and one day, why do I feel so tired."

Joanna and Emma both laughed and I made a weak attempt to laugh with them.

"Back to sleep now for a little while and we’ll talk some more at tea time" ordered Joanna.

Emma kissed me goodbye and said she would see me again soon.

In the late afternoon Joanna woke me with a drink of water in a baby’s bottle. I hadn’t long drunk it when I told her I needed to do a wee.

"Then do one," she said.

"Well, can you help me to the loo please," I said somewhat indignantly.

"Don’t be a silly girl, babies don’t use toilets do they. They just go, so just go."

It may seem daft but up to then my mind was so full of cotton wool that I had not thought of why I was there. Suddenly, going to the loo was the last thing on my mind. Do I have a pussy was the big question flashing on my brain like a giant neon sign. So I asked her.

"Of course you do silly, you’re a little girl aren’t you? And little girls have a little pussy as their front bottom don’t they."

"What’s it like Joanna?" I asked tentatively.

"Like? Oh, it’s very pretty. Just like a baby’s. All smooth and soft. Just a nice little slit. All nice and smooth, not bulgy like little boys. It’s smooth and the slit runs right underneath and joins up with your back bottom slit. Would you like to see it?"

"Uumm, yes and no. I’m a bit frightened."

"Oh there’s nothing to be frightened of it looks lovely and it almost completely healed now. Come on let’s get your nappy off and show you."

Until that point I didn’t even realise I was wearing a nappy. Joanna pulled the covers back and pulled open the tabs on my nappy. As she pulled open the nappy a sudden gush of cool air blew the net curtain up in the air and all over my bottom. It felt so lovely. Joanna helped me to the edge of the bed so that I was facing the dressing mirror close by. She moved the mirror closer and I got the first look at my face. It was lovely and smooth and the hormones had caused my hair to grow at a fantastic rate. I now had a headful of wavy chestnut hair. They had done something with my lips because they were a good deal fuller than before and it was surprising how that alone had changed the total facial image. Joanna helped me to stand and there it was, my beautiful new vagina. She was absolutely right in every detail. I flopped back on the bed and she went to get a new nappy to put on me. As she lifted up my legs to put the nappy under me I could see my new vagina open just a little and the pink inner lips peeping out.

I felt so guilty when I wet my nappy not five minutes later and Joanna had to change me again. She just smiled and said, "well at least we know you’re water works are all OK. It won’t be long before you’ll be doing a little poo for me."

Because Joanna wasn’t embarrassed, any initial embarrassment that I felt left me. During my stay in the clinic Joanna was more right than she was wrong. It wasn’t long before I felt a poo building. I didn’t have the strength to push it or stop it so it just came. It actually felt really good with this warm sticky mess all around me and especially knowing that someone else would be cleaning me up.

Joanna left me in my dirty nappy for a long time and then said, "right baby, let’s get that stinky nappy off you and get you cleaned up ready for bed-i-byes."

She pulled the tabs and the smell of the shitty nappy came hot and strong. She wiped me with baby wipes and cleaned me up with some baby lotion.

"I’ll leave you to have a little kick for a while baby," she said as she left the room – with the door wide open.

I felt this need to cover up but wasn’t even strong enough to do that. I was literally as weak as a new-born baby. People walking along the corridor would glance in my direction and smile. Not a nasty smile but a nice one. As if they’d just seen a baby kicking on their changing mat. Just as two nurses passed the door and waved at me, Marjorie came round the corner and into the room. Of course, the first sight to greet her was me lying on my back, legs spread wide open showing off my new bald little cunt to the whole world.

"Oh my darling Stephanie, you look absolutely wonderful. You have quite the most delicious little cunt don’t you. And the hormones they’ve given you have plumped you up a bit. You look like a lovely little baby girl."

She walked straight up to the bed and gave me a nice little kiss right on my new pink lips. You look so lovely I ......."

She turned away and pulled her handkerchief from her handbag and put it to her face. "Auntie Marjorie, don’t cry," I said. Where the idea to call her ‘auntie’ came from but that just set her off crying even more.

"I’m sorry my darling Stephanie. It’s just that you look so lovely lying there and it suddenly occurred to me that the plan that I had helped design was actually working perfectly. And then when you called me auntie, well it was just such a lovely tender moment."

I think until that moment I’d thought that Marjorie was a tough old girl and didn’t go much in for feelings. I realised now that I was wrong. She was tender, she just didn’t like to let her guard down and show her feelings. I was to learn later that Marjorie was perhaps the tenderest person I’d ever met.

"You’re pleased with what you’ve seen are you Auntie?" I said happy to call her by her new title.

"Oh, it’s exquisite dear. You look delightful."

"Do you think it will good when I’m all grown up?"
"My dear I’m sure it will look wonderful."

"Do you think my hair will grow nicely."

"Why, do you want to be a hairy woman?"

"Oh, yes I’d like to look like a proper woman, not just a grown up girl."

"How hairy would you like to be, not that you can control it, unless you want less than you’ve got when you can always trim it."

"Oh I wouldn’t want to trim it, I’d like to be as hairy as I could be."

"Well, being very hairy does have its draw backs. For a start it takes a lot more wiping when you’ve been to the loo. You can sometimes get the hairs all caught up in your knickers as well. Then its not always as accessible to anyone who might like to get in there for anything, if you know what I mean."

"As you seem to know about being hairy, what are the advantages?"

"Well, I think it just looks the best. I know all about it because I am a very hairy woman, as no doubt your mother has told you. Would you like to see?"
"Oh yes Auntie that would be wonderful."

Auntie Marjorie went over and closed the door. She took off her skirt and her slip. She was wearing stockings, suspenders and large thick cotton knickers. She pulled her knickers down and took them right off. She stood right next to my head and my mind went back to the vision of my mother I’d had when I was a young boy.

But there the comparison really did end. Auntie Marjorie was a thick mass of dark brown curls. It wasn’t only the sheer thickness of her bush that was impressive but the length of the hair. It hung down well below her cunt. She then turned round and bent over pulling her massive cheeks apart. I could just make out her arsehole in amongst the mass of hair. Without thinking I reached out my hand to stroke it and to poke the hole. Auntie pushed back and pulled herself even wider open. My finger slipped in all the way up to my hand. It felt warm, sticky and very tight. Auntie groaned and I wiggled my finger. She groaned again so I pulled my finger out and thrust it back in again. She grunted quite loudly and I think this brought her to realise where she was. She moved forward and my finger plopped out.

"Oooh, my dear that was quite lovely. Now, let me give you a better look at my cunt."

With that she climbed onto the bed and squatted right over my face. Her hair was all over her inner thighs and as she held up her blouse I could see the hair above her cunt all the way up to her tummy button. Not a sparse trace of hair either, it was thick. Everywhere I could see it was covered in hair. She climbed down off the bed.

"Well my dear, what do you think. Do you still want to be a hairy woman?"

"Well as you said Auntie I won’t be able to choose but if I could I’d love to be like you. I’d love to have another look in the future too."

"Don’t fret on that account my dear, I think you will be seeing quite a lot of quite a lot of me in the future. And I’m sure you’ll be seeing quite a lot of the others too and I’m quite sure we’ll be seeing quite a lot of you too!"

Joanna came back in to put my new nappy on. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw Auntie Marjorie standing there with no knickers on. Unbelievably, she actually licked her lips at the sight.

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t realise someone else was here, I just came back to put a clean nappy on Stephanie."

"That’s quite alright, I was just showing Stephanie what a mature woman looks like."

"Well," Joanna said, "I used to think I was mature but now I’ve seen that I think I might have to reassess how mature I am."

"Nonsense my dear, I’m sure you look quite lovely in that department."

"Possibly, but not at all like that, you look wonderful, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful," Joanna said with a warm glow about her cheeks."

"May I look closer?" Joanna said moving toward Auntie Marjorie with her hands reaching for her cunt.

"Well, only if you’ll reciprocate." Said Auntie.

I didn’t know that a nurse’s uniform, knickers and tights could be removed so quickly.

Within 10 seconds Joanna was standing there in just her bra, fingering Auntie for all she was worth. Auntie started fingering Joanna and with her other hand unhooked Joanna’s bra clasp. Her tits fell out and Auntie started sucking on them. I think Auntie would have called out when she orgasmed if she had not had a mouthful of nipple. When she’d finished she pushed Joanna on the bed next to me and tongued her fanny for all she was worth. Joanna almost climbed up the wall as she came with an enormous scream, which had to be well muffled by a mouthful of bed sheet.

And all I could do was just lay there and watch it all with no participation. I was so weak I could do nothing but close my eyes and hope the frustration I felt didn’t last too long. I should have realised then that I would receive no sexual stimulation for at least a year, until I was at senior school as a teenager.

Auntie and Joanna both dressed and Auntie helped her with my nappy. They both kissed me on my cheek and left together. I fell fast asleep.

The weeks soon flew by and I did recover some of my strength but remained unable to do very much for myself. I was totally unaware that one of the tablets I was taking was specifically designed to cause this so that I would feel a great sense of dependency on others. My four ‘auntie’s’ all visited me over those weeks sometimes on their own but since I regained consciousness they frequently came in pairs and on one occasion, close to when I was to return home, they all came together. I was pretty sure that Auntie Marjorie had a double reason for coming. I noticed that Joanna always looked particularly perky on the days she was visiting.

Then the day came for me to go home. I think I’d expected all four auntie’s to come and collect me without realising that there wouldn’t have been room in the car. As it happened Auntie Jane and Auntie Marjorie came for me and Auntie Emma and Auntie Olive were with Mother as she was ‘giving birth’. Joanna and my two aunties got me dressed in a clean nappy and then Auntie Jane produced a baby vest just my size and large pink frilly knickers. This was followed by what was perhaps the prettiest baby dress I had ever seen. It was all pink, with little frilly cap sleeves and white ribbons all down the front of it and it buttoned up at the back. They then put little frilly topped socks on my feet and a frilly bonnet on my head ensuring that all my long hair was inside the bonnet. While they were dressing me they were talking to me as if I was a little baby and auntie was explaining to me that when they got me home I wasn’t to talk. I had to ‘learn’ to talk over the next three months. The door opened and two well-built nurses entered the room pushing a large hospital cart. This had been adjusted to be used as a giant pram and had light bedclothes over a very soft mattress. They gently lifted me into the pram and wheeled me to Auntie Emma’s car. In fact she had an MPV and the pram was detached from the trolley wheels and I was placed in the back of the vehicle still in the pram body. The pram was then secured by straps and after receiving a multitude of kisses from Joanna we set off for home.

At home I was told that Mother was sleeping after an exhausting birth and so I was carried by my aunties in the pram up to Mother’s bedroom where I was quietly lifted from the pram into a large cot right next to Mother’s bed. Auntie Jane put her finger to her lips to indicate that I should be quiet so I turned over and went to sleep.

When I awoke I opened my eyes to the smiling and blissfully happy face of my mother.

"There you are then," she said stroking my cheek, "how’s my little baby girl then. Now let’s get you up and get you changed."

I hadn’t realised but I was actually quite wet and Mother could smell that I should be changed. She was just about to get me out of my cot when the door opened and Auntie Olive came in. When she saw Mother was awake she called for the others. They all came in and started remonstrating with Mother for over exerting herself.

"Susan, you must rest, you’ve had a very tiring time, that’s why we are here to help you."
"Well my baby needs changing and at least let me help."

With that she came over to my cot and with the help of Auntie Olive and Auntie Jane got me onto my new padded changing table. Auntie Olive lifted up my legs as Mother pulled my knickers off. Mother snapped open the tabs and my nappy was off.

"Oh, girls, doesn’t she look lovely," she said with tears in her eyes, "just lovely."

Of course they all agreed and started to coochy-coo my cheeks while Auntie Jane cleaned me up. My nappy was replaced and my other clothes removed.

"I think baby needs a feed Susan," said Auntie Marjorie, "she must be quite hungry."

"Of course," said Mother as she made her way back to the bed. The others carried me to her side where Mother had removed her nightie. I was laid so she could cuddle me and with the aid of her finger insert one of her large and very dark nipples in my mouth. I sucked gently and was amazed to be rewarded with a lovely sweet tasting liquid.

"It seems as though those tablets you got to get me to lactate are working nicely," Mother said to Auntie Olive.

When I’d drained one side Mother shifted me on to her other breast. I happily sucked that breast dry.

"She is still hungry," said Mother.

"Well, if you will have such big baby’s what do you expect," giggled Auntie Jane.

"Shall I take over?" asked Auntie Olive.

"Would you mind dear?" Mother said, "she definitely needs more.

"I’d love to," said Auntie Olive unbuttoning her dress at the front, "after all we did agree that I would take the tablets as well so I could help out."

"Yes I know but I did think I might be able to give her more."

"Don’t fret Susan," said Auntie Emma, "Olive has been looking forward to this and I’m sure has enough milk to amply compensate for even the most insatiable appetite that Stephanie might have."

Auntie Olive had removed her dress completely and Auntie Emma unclipped her bra. Probably the largest, most pendulous, most magnificent tits I had ever seen swung free when her bra was slipped away. Her aureoles were not as large as Mother’s nor as dark but her nipples had to be twice the size. They were definitely twice as long and probably twice as thick. She walked over to the bed with those massive mammaries swaying from side to side. She sat down only wearing her knickers at this point and I was laid across her lap and a nipple introduced to my mouth. I hungrily sucked at the nipple and tasted a virtual flood of her sweet milk. I started to feel full but was still put on the other tit. By the time I was finished I knew I was going to poo my nappy but could do nothing about it. I wasn’t permitted to speak so I just let it go. Auntie Marjorie was the first to suggest I needed changing so the same routine was started. I was to become very familiar with that routine over the next weeks and months as Mother and my aunties took turns in feeding, changing and dressing me. There were times when my bottom got really sore with nappy rash but now I was at home I was put into terry nappies rather than disposables, which helped, as did large pots of Sudocrem.

The three months were rapidly going and Mother was gradually getting her old figure back as the bladder was eventually completely deflated and removed. I continued to be fed by a mixture of Mother and Auntie Olive although a few times the others would provide a nipple for me to suck as a comforter and I would invariably drop off to sleep on times like these. Days were spent sitting in my pram in the garden, crawling on the grass, playing with my baby dollies, just laying in my mother’s arms or sleeping. I was ‘learning’ to speak and during this time I graduated from Mama all the way up to Mummy. I remember thinking how nice it sounded and vowed to use it often in future in preference to the rather formal ‘Mother’.

I was nearly at the end of my baby period when I overheard Mummy and Auntie Marjorie taking about the coming Saturday evening. In truth I’d lost track of what day it was and if pressed to estimate what the actual date was, I don’t think I would have got within a mile of it. It seemed that on Saturday there was to be a party. From casual remarks that one or other of my aunties made over a number of days, I concluded that the party was to reintroduce Mummy to the joys of male company. I have to confess to having some confused thoughts of jealousy at this point but quickly countered them with the fact that I was no longer able to perform that duty for her, whether I should have ever done. I knew I was her daughter now and I could not have been happier.

Saturday evening came and I was put into my cot in the bedroom. From the lounge I could hear voices talking and the clinking of glasses. It would at times go very quiet and then there were audible sounds. I drifted in and out of sleep during the evening, which wasn’t unusual these days. I had become accustomed to a great deal more sleep during the day as well as at night-time. Later I could her some groaning and once or twice a little calling out but always indecipherable. I longed to be there and be part of the occasion and harboured hopes that one of the pairs would come and couple in the bedroom where I was but alas it wasn’t to be.

In the morning everything was as usual except that Mummy did get up a bit later than normal.

The three months were up and for me not a moment too soon. Being a baby for that time had been a valuable experience for both Mummy and me I have no doubt but it was boring. I was so looking forward to being a little girl but I was to discover that that had its downside too.

 

Chapter Four – Little Stephanie

Three months as a baby had been a wonderful time for Mummy as she was able to spend time with the fruit of her pregnancy. I was adored, loved and nurtured by Mummy and by her four friends. It was an amazing time that made me feel all warm and safe. I had no cares and no worries and people who were totally devoted to looking after me and keeping me a baby for the full three months but I was so looking forward to growing into a little girl. I kind of thought that the day after the three months had finished everything would change and was somewhat surprised when Mummy got me out of my cot and started to change my nappy. She could see the look of surprise on my face and reassured me by saying, "My what a big girl you’re getting. I think we’d better start potty training you. Will you tell Mummy when you need to go poo’s?" I gurgled my best gurgle and nodded. Mummy took me to the kitchen where she and Auntie Emma put into my highchair. Since I had been ‘born’ Mummy had one of her friends to stay every night to help her with ‘baby’. From some of the noises that came from Mummy’s bed it wasn’t only the help she enjoyed.

This day for the first time in three months I was given solid food. Up until now I had been breast fed with a little baby food. Today I had some soggy breakfast cereal and then was placed on Mummy’s lap to be breast-fed. Both Mummy and I enjoyed this and it certainly had increased the strength of the already strong bond that there had always been between us. After sucking on Mummy’s nipples for about 20 minutes Mummy decided I should be put on the potty. Auntie Emma produced a large pink baby’s potty. It was the type that is especially for baby girls without a splash area at the front that they have for baby boys. This was the first time I’d been able to sit and wee as a girl. Before today I’d spent nearly three decades standing to wee as a boy or weeing directly into my nappy. For the first time I was able to hear the tinkle as the warm wee dribbled and then gushed out of my new, tight, bald vagina. It felt strange but quite delightful to be sitting there with nothing dangling between my legs. I’d been used to sitting on a toilet feeling my cock and balls swinging between my thighs. Now I was all nice and round with a smooth, soft little bulge above my new slit. While I was weeing I could feel the poo building and had no control over whether it came out of not. Not that I minded going, I simply had no choice in the matter. No doubt the huge quantities of breast milk and baby food I had consumed over the recent weeks had temporarily taken away my bowel control. When I’d finished Mummy said what a clever little girl I was. She helped me to stand up and Auntie Emma wiped both my front bottom and my back bottom as they now called them talking to me in a baby voice. They both said they were very pleased and said that as a reward they would try me in knickers. Little white cotton knickers with pink rosebuds on them were brought out and put on me.

"Do you think she will be able to walk soon," Auntie Emma asked Mummy.

"I don’t know. Should we try her?" replied Mummy

"Well, perhaps she would find it easier with some slippers on," said Auntie Emma producing a pair of what looked like pink ballet shoes.

They were ballet shoes but had been modified by placing padding in the soles to make the sole rounded. They helped me to stand up and I fell over. I’d been a long time not walking only being allowed to crawl or rely on being carried. Now I was trying to walk for the first time in three months and with round-soled shoes. They tried me again and I managed a few steps before I fell. With practice I found that I could walk if I held onto the furniture but to get across the lounge I still found it easier to crawl.

Mummy and Auntie Emma got me dressed in clothes that were a bit more grown-up. My vest didn’t clip underneath and my dress was a little bit longer. You could still see my knickers if I bent over at all but not if I stood up straight. My baby dresses had all been much shorter. I didn’t have to wear a bonnet anymore and when Auntie Jane arrived later she brushed my quite long hair and put it in two bunches with pink ribbons. I toddled round the house enjoying my newfound freedom.

Late morning Mummy and Auntie Emma went shopping. They said they needed to get me some more knickers and proper shoes if I was growing up this quickly and left Auntie Jane in charge of me. About 20 minutes later I realised I needed my potty. "Poo," I said to Auntie Jane.

She held my hand and led me to the toilet where my potty was kept. She pulled down my knickers and held my hands while I was lowered down onto the pot. While I was sitting there Auntie Jane suddenly said, "Oh Stephanie, hearing you go has made me want to go."

She unbuttoned her dress, took it off and hung it on the toilet door, saying at the same time, "You’ll understand when you get older that sometimes you have to take your dress off to stop it getting all creased."

Underneath she was wearing a full corselette and stockings like Mummy often wears. She pulled her knickers down and dropped her large arse down on the seat. The sudden torrent of wee made me go even more. Her wee slowed and was followed by three very loud ‘plops’. I think I heard it all the more loudly as I was sitting very low down near her feet.

When she’d finished she lifted herself up to wipe herself. Because I was sitting so low my head was level with her bottom as she stood to clean herself. When Mummy had described what Jane’s cunt looked like I wasn’t quite able to picture it but now I saw it in all it’s glory. She was so different from Auntie Marjorie or even Mummy. Auntie Jane had a huge bald vagina but unlike my little girl pussy her lips were simply enormous. They hung down outside her well below where a lady’s cunt would normally finish. There was fold after fold of fleshy cunt hanging out of her and when she squatted to wipe herself the lips just fell apart and I could see her puffy pink inner lips and her hole. She turned around to wipe her back bottom and I could see the lovely bald hole all shitty. When she’d finished she left her knickers and dress off so that she could easily and quickly sort me out. I was similarly cleaned up and my knickers pulled up. Just before she pulled them all the way up Auntie Jane stopped, looked closely at my vagina and said, "You know darling, there was a time when I looked just like that but I’ve grown a bit since those days. Well I say a bit, in fact quite a lot. I think I might be still growing down there even now. Maybe you’ll look like me when you’re all grown up."

Only a few months ago I’d told Auntie Marjorie that I’d love to have a cunt just like hers and I meant it. Now though, I really didn’t mind if it looked like Auntie Marjorie’s massively hairy one or Auntie Jane’s huge bald floppy one.

Mummy and Auntie Emma returned with loads of things for me, including some little shoes that I was told I could wear if I showed them all how well I could walk in my slippers. They had bought me dollies to dress and play with and a dolly’s pram. This was great because as I pushed it it helped me stand up and walk. By the time Auntie Marjorie and Auntie Olive arrived at teatime I was happily playing with all my things and looking so much more grown-up. Being by far the biggest of the group, Auntie Olive had brought some of her old clothes over so that I could play dress up. When I did put one of her dresses on it was like a tent on me. She put one of her old floppy hats on my head, some beads that were far too long and some high-heeled shoes that must have been especially made because they were too big for me. Apart from the shoes all the stuff looked a little old which was ideal for playing in. I amused them for a couple of hours until 8 o’clock when it was bedtime. Both Auntie Olive and Auntie Emma were staying the night tonight so Auntie Olive said; "Now you’re such a big girl, as a treat why don’t we all go off and get ready for bed together.

They both held one of my hands as I toddled off to Mummy’s bedroom. Auntie Olive got me undressed and into the bath. She said that she would have a shower but that Auntie Emma would wash me in the bath. Auntie Emma came into the bathroom wearing one of Mummy’s robes and she started to wash me. As she washed my chest she said, "You know Stephanie, one day you might have wonderful tits like Auntie Olive."

They were indeed wonderful. As she got out of the shower cubicle I could see them; they were huge and pendulous. They swung free as she bent down to dry herself. Whilst her aureoles were nowhere near as large as Mummy’s her nipples were at least twice as big. I knew, I’d been sucking at them for three months. They were thick enough to almost fill my mouth. As she moved about her massive mammaries swayed from side to side.

"Are you getting in the shower Emma," Olive asked.

"I did think I would have a bath for a change," said Auntie Emma

"Well, why not get in with Stephanie," Olive suggested.

"I’m not sure Stephanie would like that," said Auntie Emma in mock sorrow.

"By the look on her face, I’d say she’d love you to," said Olive.

Auntie Emma stood up and dropped the robe. I’d never seen Auntie Emma in any state of undress before but now she stood before me totally naked. I remembered Mummy saying that Auntie Emma had the classic English ladies ‘pear-shape’ figure and that she had the largest bottom she had ever seen. Well, she was huge but absolutely beautiful. She was just so lovely that when she finally got into the bath with me I leaned over and gave her a great big hug. I loved her so much.

"Have you washed Stephanie," Olive asked Emma.

"No, not completely, I did her top half but we got distracted when you got out of the shower," she replied.

"Well, I suppose I’d better do it then. Now, Stephanie darling get on your hands and knees so Auntie can wash your bottom."

I got on my hands and knees as instructed and could feel the warm water over my front and back bottoms.

"Come on Emma, I suppose I’d better do you as well," said Auntie Olive.

Auntie Emma got on her hands and knees with her bottom toward me. What an expanse! She had monstrous white fleshy buttocks that she had pulled apart so that Auntie Olive could wash her properly. I could see her lovely arse hole and just below it the slit of her fanny. It was an amazing view. In front of me the largest arse in the world and swinging around behind them two of the biggest tits in the world. Auntie Olive looked at me and said, "I don’t know about having tits as big as mine but what about if you had an arse like that Stephanie. That would be something wouldn’t it?"

When we’d all dried Auntie Emma brought out our nighties. Mine was a lovely little girls cotton one that cam down to my knees. It had a big teddy on the front and ¾ sleeves. Both Auntie Olive and Auntie Emma wore very short nighties made of a fine material like chiffon but with an opaque lining. They looked lovely and every time they bent over only a little bit you could see their bottom cheeks peeping out underneath the hem. As they held my hand to take me into the lounge to say goodnight to the others, I looked from side to side and was rewarded with two wonderful profiles. One so top heavy that she looked like she should fall over and the other so bottom heavy that she looked like she never would. And I loved them both.

Everyone kissed me goodnight and Mummy took me off to bed. I still had my cot but now the sides had been unscrewed. Mummy put me on the potty and I went again. She put me on a nappy, "just for nightime," she said, kissed me, " night, night," and left me to dream. I was so pleased with myself that I slept soundly. So soundly that night that I wasn’t even awakened by the groans and moans from Mummy’s bed as she shared it with two of her friends rather than one.

In the morning, my feeling pleased with myself feeling was shattered. I had a very wet bed. I couldn’t believe it, I was absolutely soaking. When I started to cry Mummy came over to see what was wrong. "Never mind," was all she said and got me up and in the bath. Auntie Olive came and helped her while Auntie Emma prepared breakfast. I was dressed as yesterday with knickers rather than a nappy, which I feared they might put me back in. That night I wet myself again. Mummy was very kind and understanding and just kept persevering with me day by day but still I wet myself at night. On the sixth morning Mummy said that Auntie Marjorie had suggested that I needed a good spanking, as I was being very naughty. Mummy told me that she didn’t want to do this but it was becoming very difficult to see when I might get dry and she was beginning to suspect that I might not be trying very hard to stay dry. On the next morning when I was wet Auntie Marjorie happened to be staying and she again suggested a thorough spanking. Mummy just couldn’t do it and I felt relieved. But when Auntie Marjorie offered to do it for her the relieved look on my face must have turned to horror. I’d never been spanked before in my life but here I was being laid naked across Auntie’s lap as she sat on the bed in her nightie. Mummy left the bedroom at that point and Auntie waited until she was out of earshot before beginning. The first thwack caught me by surprise and startled me. Before I could react there was another and another and another. My poor bottom was really stinging and I started to cry, not very loudly but Auntie knew it was hurting me. She spanked me about 10 times and then laid me on the bed. She took a tissue and wiped my eyes. "Now Stephanie, perhaps the memory of that spanking will help you stay dry tonight." She then bathed me and dressed me before taking me to my Mummy.

It worked! The following morning I was completely dry. Mummy showered me with praise as she did the next morning and the next but on the fourth morning I was wet again. Mummy herself spanked me this time and she spanked me harder than Auntie Marjorie had been. Auntie Emma had been staying that night and she watched with a really flushed face. That afternoon Mummy put me into my cot as usual for a little sleep. Mummy and Auntie just lay on the bed to rest. I closed my eyes but couldn’t sleep as my bottom hurt too much. Mummy and Auntie Emma clearly thought that I was sound asleep so I just lay there with my eyes closed listening to them thanking. "You know Emma, when I was spanking Stephanie this morning, you were very red in the face." Auntie didn’t reply. "My you’ve gone all red right now just thinking about it." Again Auntie didn’t answer. "What’s the matter dear?" Mother asked in a concerned tone. There was silence for quite some time, during which my mother just waited patiently for Auntie to reply.

"I was incredibly excited by the spanking Susan. I can’t remember ever having seen anyone spanked before and it got me really quite horny."

"Was it watching the spanking or would you like to administer one?" Mummy asked. "Oh no, I don’t want to spank anyone....." and her voice sort of trailed off.

"My goodness!" Mummy exclaimed, "you want to be spanked, don’t you? That’s it, isn’t it?"

"Well yes, I think I would."

"Well let’s give it a go then," said Mummy.

"What now?"

"Why not?"

"Well, surely not here," said Auntie.

"Why ever not, Stephanie sound asleep and it will be so much more practical if I am sitting on the edge of the bed with you across my lap supported by the bed," said Mummy, "just like this morning when I spanked Stephanie.

Auntie Emma hesitated for a while and then got up and removed her dress and her knickers. She stood there only in her bra with her back and her enormous bottom facing me. Her bottom looked really lovely. Mummy sat up on the edge of the bed and Auntie Emma lay across her lap. I was lying on my side so I had a perfect view of the whole scene. Mummy brought her first slap down with playful force. Auntie grunted a bit but I think she knew they would get harder. And harder they did get. Mummy must have spanked her 20 times and with everyone I could see her fat, reddening bottom wobble like a huge jelly. When Mummy was finished Auntie Emma stood up and I could see the full expanse of her beautiful arse now all red and swollen. She stood there like a little girl rubbing her bottom to ease the sting. Mummy got up and opened a bottle of body lotion and began to soothe Auntie arse with it. She bent over so that Mummy could cover the whole area and I saw Mummy’s finger disappear a few times into Auntie’s arsehole. Auntie was clearly enjoying her treatment and moaned. Then I saw two of Mummy’s fingers go in. She instinctively knew that Auntie Emma needed more so she leaned over to her bedside cabinet and from the drawer took a large vibrator. She started to push it into Auntie waiting hole and I heard a click as the vibrator started to live up to its name. Mummy was pumping the solid phallus in and out of Auntie at an increasing speed until Auntie gave a really quite loud grunt and collapsed on the bed. I decided now was a good time to ‘wake-up’ so I moved, yawned and stretched all in one movement. They quickly gathered their wits about them and Mummy came over to me, got me out of bed and led me from the room, presumably to allow Auntie to recover.

Over the weeks I was allowed to stay up just a little later at night, to wear proper little girl’s shoes and to say a few more words. If I wet my knickers, I got spanked, which was about once a week. I think subconsciously I actually liked being spanked and that’s why I wet myself sometimes. I know Auntie Emma enjoyed being spanked and I know for sure that the first spanking was not the last.

I was moved into my own room, which had been redecorated, as a little girl’s room would look. As I grew up other clothes appeared in my wardrobe. One day as I opened my wardrobe, I was surprised to see a Brownie uniform. From then on I would spend one evening a week in my uniform with Auntie Jane helping with becoming a Brownie.

Then came the day when I was given my very first school uniform. I had a blue checked skirt, white blouse, stripped tie, ankle socks, straw hat and of course navy blue knickers. I had to wear my uniform all day as my Auntie played with me. I also had to change into my PE kit for games. Sometimes these would be in the garden but often indoors. Most of the time I would have to run around with my white vest tucked in my navy blue PE knickers.

Towards the end of this period I started to notice that my pubic and underarm hair was beginning to grow. Strangely it didn’t grow back thick and stubbly like I had expected but soft and downy. I guess it was because it wasn’t shaved off but removed by that strong cream. About this time I started getting a real irritation around my nipples. I knew as soon as it started that the hormones that from ‘birth’ had been put in my food or given as booster injections were doing their job. Behind my swollen nipples, my chest felt all puffy and tender. I was beginning to grow boobs. I was beginning the journey into womanhood. I got very impatient around now. I wanted everything to happen quickly. Why had I ever agreed to so slow a process? I could have just had a few operations like lots of people do and been an instant woman. I could have a great set of knockers right now. Why had I agreed to this slow transition? I knew the answer of course. It was as important a process for Mummy as for me and we needed to bond together as mother and daughter not just as two women. It made perfect sense and I had really enjoyed the time but I suddenly felt all out of sorts with the world and couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t understand that is until Auntie Olive sat me down and explained that I was starting puberty and with that came the upset of all my hormones.

"Please just be patient Stephanie. I can’t tell you how much your mother is appreciating this whole experience. I have known her for probably 30 years and I have never, never, seen her so happy. Just be patient. I’m sure in a while you’ll look back and will see that it was worth it for yourself, not just her."

It was now nearly one year since I’d gone to the hospital for my preparation and operation. I had been a little girl physically for nearly a whole year. More than that, I had lived as a little girl. I knew what it felt like and now the time was rapidly approaching when I would be leaving home for six months and going away to girls’ boarding school. I remembered that during the six months I was to spend there I would have two small operations to insert implants into my growing bust. The first operation would take me from the A cup I would hopefully be by the time I went, to a B cup. The second operation would increase my bust even further, up to a C cup. I had been promised that I would be able to decide what ultimate size I wanted my tits to be but not until I was a fully-grown woman, which would be in about a year’s time.

I was ready for boarding school and so looking forward to going although apprehensive about two aspects. The first was who was going to be there. Would they be ‘girls’ like me or would they be ordinary 13 year old girls. The second was the fact that I would be leaving my Auntie’s and worse of all Mummy behind. Mummy sat me down and explained that most of the girls at my new school would be similar to me but not all exactly the same. Some of them had been feminised by their mothers but had not undergone surgery. For some of these what they were enduring was a punishment and they would have the option of returning to their former male role if they behaved satisfactorily. For others they had been feminised but either their mothers or they themselves didn’t want to become fully female. I couldn’t really understand that but was encourage to accept that people are different and see things in different ways, which seemed reasonable. While we were having this little chat Mummy dropped another bombshell.

"Darling," she said, "you understand that at present you are entering your female puberty stage don’t you."

"Yes," I said.

"Well, as you notice that certain physical things are happening to you, your boobs are growing, very nicely as well, you are becoming more moody, oh don’t worry we all appreciate what’s happening to you. Well, there is one more thing that should happen to you about now and one that will happen soon, probably too soon."

I was frankly puzzled by what exactly she was driving at and she could see it.

"What I’m trying to say, not very well, is that about now you should be starting your period."

"Period!" I exclaimed, "but I don’t have a womb."

"No of course you don’t but a natural woman would and she would have periods and you should have periods too or you’ll never know what it’s like to be a normal natural woman. From now, and I mean now, you will have a period every four weeks for five days. Things don’t work quite as clockwork with most of us but this way it will be easy for you to remember and to cope. You will wear sanitary towels for the five days changing them every three hours. You can choose whatever brand or style suits you but for now you will have to make do with some that Auntie Marjorie has brought over. Being older and quite feminine ladies we all wore the old fashioned looped towel supported by a belt. The belt is very soft and is worn around the waist and the towel clips on at the front and the back."

As she was speaking she produced the belt, which did look very ‘female’ and some towels. She helpe