Transformations

"Oh, I see Mum. No, that makes a lot of sense."

"Come on, we can't sit around here naked all day. Would you like to try on some of my clothes, or just put on a robe?"

"Mum, I have my own clothes."

"Baby, I think you'll find they won't be such a great fit anymore. You're about eight inches shorter than you were, your hips are about six inches wider and in case it's escaped your attention, you have killer boobs!"

Joey bit his lip. His mother was right.

"Besides which, I don't think you're going to be overly keen on the smell of them."

"What do you mean Mum?"

"Uh, how do I put this politely? Joey, as a boy, you stink. Run along into your room and take a whiff of it!"

"Mum! It can't be that bad, you go in there all the time."

"Take a whiff."

Joey went into his room and came back into his mother's a moment later. "Oh God, that's horrible. How did you ever cope?"

"I held my breath a lot!"

They both giggled and Mrs. Aames stood up and opened up her wardrobe doors. "Anything you like, pick anything. Although, I think it's time for a makeover. I think this would look really nice on you. Your blonde hair would really set it off."

Mrs. Aames pulled out a navy blue pinstripe skirt and matching waistcoat. She laid it on the end of her bed and went and fetched a blouse from the shelf. Pale blue, white collar, white pinstripes.

"Mum! It's not really me."

"Oh Joey, you have eighteen years of thinking like a boy to overcome. There's so much more than just jeans and a T shirt baby. As a girl, clothes are your friend. A girl can make anything look good. Just humour me for a minute and if you don't think you look good in it, we can try on something else."

"Okay Mum."

"Right, underwear. Shall we see how much of you will fit in one of my bras?"

Joey smiled. She was actually looking forward to it now.

"Uh, Mum, you can put on something too, you know. You don't have to stay naked."

"I just wanted you to be comfortable sweetie. I want you to be comfortable around me and I want you to know you can come to me about anything. You don't ever have to be shy with me, because I'm your Mum and you're going to need someone you can trust and confide in. I want that to be me, my darling. If you stay as a woman, you'll be getting a visitor every month."

"God, you mean?"

"Periods, yes. And then there'll be routine checkups you'll need to start having."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we'll have to find you a good gynaecologist, someone who doesn't know you, or me."

"Mum. I'm scared."

"Oh don't be sweetie. It's not all bad. Life as a woman has its rewards, you know! Come on. You'll have to shave your legs if you want to wear stockings, but for now, just slip into my panties."

"Mm, they feel so nice."

"Don't they just!"

"Slip your arms through here. It's one of my bigger bras, from years ago."

Joey let his mother try to fasten the bra behind his back but it was proving to be a tight squeeze.

She stepped around in front of her son and brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Is it that bad?" Joey asked.

"It's a bit tight sweetie. It accentuates your cleavage a little bit more than you want it accentuated. If you were to walk down the street like that, you'd have every man on his knees with his tongue rolled out."

Again, Joey bit his lip. All this talk of guys was beginning to excite him a little.

Mrs. Aames unhooked her son's bra and set his breasts free. "You can go commando until your Gran gets here."

Next up, she helped her son on with the pale blue blouse.

"The buttons are on the wrong side Mum."

"I'll help you sweetie." Mrs. Aames did all the buttons up except for the top two. Then she helped her son step into the skirt. It fit like a dream. Waistcoat next, buttoned up. "Shoes. What size feet are you?"

She placed the sole of her foot against her sons. "Actually, I think you're quite a bit smaller than me. I'm a six. I think you might only be a three, or perhaps a four. Here, try these."

Joey stepped into the shoe, navy blue leather with a one inch heal. She didn't want her son tripping and falling down the stairs on his first day as a woman.

"It's a bit big, Mum."

"Maybe go barefoot 'til Gran gets here."

"Is she a smaller shoe?"

"No, she's the same size as me, I just meant, I don't want you falling over yourself before she gets a chance to see you."

"Mum? Could you put something on please? I don't like to see you so vulnerable now that I have clothes on."

Mrs. Aames shook her head from side to side. So contented. Her son was so sweet, a true lady. She picked up the nightie she'd been wearing and put it back on over her head, then slipped into her silk robe and put her slippers back on her feet.

"Thanks Mum."

"Your welcome sweetie."

"I mean for everything Mum. Thank you. I just don't know what I'd do without you. I love you. I really do you know."

"Oh sweetie, I love you so much."

"Mum?"

"Sweetie?"

"I loved you before, you know. When I was him. He loved you. He just felt really awkward about telling you he did. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly at times. He was just afraid I guess, afraid of being soft."

"But you're not afraid anymore, are you baby?"

"No Mum. I'm not afraid."

"I'm glad you told me. I mean, I knew you loved me, I did. But you telling me now that you did, it means so much. Thank you baby."

"I love you Mum."

They hugged and tears streamed down each of their faces. Breaking apart, they smiled and wiped away their tears. Happy tears.

"Hmm," his mother stood with her hands on her hips again, looking at her son wearing her clothes. "Let me see." She unbuttoned another button on his blouse and pulled it apart a little. "Mm, not sure. How about the other way?" She did the button back up again and then one more, leaving just the collar open.

"What doyou think, baby?"

"I'm not sure Mum. Whatever you think is best."

Mrs. Aames licked her lips as she pondered. Then the idea hit her. She grasped hold of her son's collar and did the top button up.

"There! How about that?"

Joey looked in the mirror. His long blonde hair, his cute, kissable face, his ample breasts straining against the waistcoat, the pretty blouse with its white collar, the skirt that stopped at his knees, the feel of the panties on his mound and his bum.

"Cor Blimey Mum. I really like it."

"So do I. Go get the camera."

Joey did as his mother requested, no complaining, he just did as he was asked and thought nothing of it. Handing it to her, he posed as she took the photo, then another and another. He kept on posing. He was having fun. Then the doorbell rang. Had it been half an hour already?

Joey skipped on down the stairs, eager to show himself off to his grandmother. When he opened the door, he had a surprise.

END OF PART ONE.

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