Copyright © 2001,   Joolz-Skott.  ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit or on another website 
without the written permission of the author.  The author may be contacted 
by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com, mrdouble@mindspring.com, or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.

Original posting date: 
Sunday PM, November 11, 2001

A wildPage story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: girltime.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com
 

Story_codes: FemDom/m/m /pedo/oral

Story_intro: When a little boy becomes a little girl..


Girl Time

Written by Joolz-Skott


	"It's getting near to 4:00 o'clock, Allie honey!  Shouldn't you be changing?"

	"Sure, Mom, I just wanna finish this Battlestar's ...."

	"I think you'd better put that computer game away until tomorrow, sweetheart. That's enough alien-zapping for one day.  Jane's coming over soon to see your new dresses, the ones Aunt Beth bought for you.  Don't you want to show them to her?"

	"Yes, of course Mom, I'd love for her to see them.  She always has such good ideas about actses...ack...."

	"'Accessorizing.'  It's an important word, honey, for a girl who wants to look nice."

	"Yes.  'Ac-cess-or-izing.'  How to make whatever I'm wearing look better by adding belts and scarves and things."

	"Exactly.  Well, do you want Jane to see you in pants?  She won't like being reminded you're a boy, you know.  She still remembers what you were like when your father lived here.  I don't need to remind you of that now, do I?"

	"No, Mom."

	"Then let's call your boy time over for today.  You'd better get on upstairs and change.  Remember to take your girl time pills."    

	"OK, sure.  Uh, Mom?"

	"Yes, honey?"

	"Those new girl time pills Dr. Diana gave me a couple of weeks ago?  The big purple ones and the little white ones?"

	"Mmmm?"

	The purple ones make me feel a little nauseous right after I take them.  And the little white ones always make me feel strange, sometimes all the way through into the next day."

	"How strange?"

	"You know.  Kind of mellow.  So I smile a lot when there's nothing funny happening.  And I sort of forget things.  Like the other night, when Jim and I went to the movies?  We were talking about football, and I couldn't even remember how far away you have to be to kick for the extra point."

	"That's because girls don't need to know things like that, honey.  They need to know other things, like how to style their hair.  I notice that some mornings when it's boy time and you're getting ready to go to school you scarcely remember that you own a comb.  Do other boys really wear their long hair so ratty-looking in school these days?"

	"Yes.  It's what's cool."

	"You look so much more attractive when it's set in soft waves."

	"That's how girls wear their hair, Mom.  I do that when I'm in girl time.  When Jim and I go somewhere I do it that way.  He likes me like that."

	"Well, maybe you should try to look like that more often."

	"Mom, I can't.  Not when I'm being a boy.  The kids razz me enough now as it is!  I mean, like last week when I wore lipstick and eye shadow to school?  I almost got beat up, except for some girls who came along and made them stop!  All this year, everywhere I go  someone is always calling me a faggot or a sissy!"

	"Of course, dear.  Because you are a sissy!  That's how it is when you aren't a real girl.  You could have checked in the mirror that morning, and scrubbed your face better, you know.  If you didn't, could it be because you like the way you look when you're wearing lipstick and eye shadow?  If so that's just fine!  I do too!"

	"I do like the way they look, Mom.  But not when I'm in boy time.  I just plain forgot they were there.  Like I say, I'm forgetting lots of things these days, not just football.  When we were sitting in the movies last weekend and Jim wanted me to reach into his fly and jerk him off, I even forgot that boys' panties have slots in them so they can reach in when they pee.  I tried to find his dingle by feeling for it from above his waist band, like with my own."

	"Well, that's understandable, Allie.  You've been wearing girls' panties for quite a while now, ever since you agreed they're prettier and feel nicer than your old underpants.  And memory is selective.  When you're being a girl with a handsome boy like Jim you tend to think and feel like a girl, so you remember like a girl.  That's how people are.  I'll bet when you're being a boy you don't remember which of your skirts button on the side and which in back.  Or what shade of lipstick you wore when you were last out with Jim.  Or how it felt to kiss him.  I'll bet not even what his cum tastes like."

	"Oh no, I remember those things, Mom, sort of.  They're important!  But I've only sucked Jim off once, so I can't be sure if he always tastes like that."

	"Only once?  What in the  world do you do, all that time you spend together?  Did you like it that once?"

	"Yes.  I took another of those new white pills like you suggested, and it made me feel sort of happy woozy, sliding my mouth up and down his dingle, and licking and sucking it until it squirted.  It was really nice!  Especially when I got all his cum swallowed down snug in my tummy.  And it was fun, too!  He got so excited!"

	"You see?  That's why Dr. Diana prescribed those little white ones.  They help your disposition.  Dr. Diana said they'd help you overcome any edginess you might still feel about pleasing boys.  That they'd make you feel more compliant, less naturally feisty the way boys are with each other, less competitive.  The way a girl should feel with boys if she wants to be popular."

	










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This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.