In Mother's Place

So, I let him lie next to me and I said goodnight, and he lay there for a while. I had my back turned and then I feel him stroking my hair. I thought: 'What is wrong with everybody in this house. A girl gets her hair done and everybody wants to sleep with her.' I felt his rough hand caress my arm and then I can feel it on my butt, though I am wearing a heavy nightie. I was a little worried for a while but then I heard him snoring, and I followed him off to sleep.

When he woke up in the morning before dawn, he kissed me on the forehead and then went out. I wondered if he would come again that night, but he didn't. It would be winter before he would be back again in 'our bed'.

Haddon avoided me, but I felt that I needed to reassure him. It was a day or two before I found the opportunity. He was fixing a gate in the yards and I took him down a cool drink and some freshly baked muffins. I wore a pair of my mother's jeans and a shirt, but I was wearing my black bra and had my hair with a few curls put in with a wand. Just a little makeup. It was a practice day.

"I know what incest is," he said. "It is wrong to desire your sister."

"I'm not your sister," I said. "You haven't been raised with a sister. If you had been and you wanted her then that would be incest. I'm new to this house. I look good. I don't think it's that weird to desire me."

"But you look like Mom," he said. "That makes it even worse."

"I'm not her either," I said. I did look a bit like her. But she was older -- maybe old before her time -- and sad. Always sad. Not like me at all.

"So, who are you exactly?" he asked.

"I'm here to make everybody happy, remember?" I snapped angrily. "To be a cardboard wife for Pop, and a cardboard mother for Mason and Augie. And for you ... what am I to you?"

He came closer and took off his work gloves. He said: "You are my dream woman. You love the farm. You love my family. You look like a goddess. You cook better than Mom. And when you are in the room everybody is happy."

"I can do all of that," I said confidently. "What more do you want?"

"I want to make love to you." He was standing over me, so that my feminized body seemed so pathetically small.

"Not physically possible," I said, trying to escape under his arm. He barred my way, but gently.

"I am not going to force myself on you Lizzie," he said, using my new name for the first time I could recall. "I only want it if you want it. But I want it so, so bad."

Now I don't know anything about gay sex but I was guessing that he was talking about fucking me up the ass. The idea was disgusting. So why was I standing there thinking about it? Thinking about having sex with my own brother. I had an idea in my head that we were face to face, like a man and a woman, not like a bull and a heifer. And I imagined he was deep inside me, and my arms were around his neck, and I was screaming for joy.

My silence and inaction seemed to encourage him. He said: "Would you consider it?"

I said nothing as I hurried back up to the homestead.

What I had learned that afternoon, was just how much I needed my older brother's love and respect. I felt that I had never had it until that point. I had always admired him -- maybe even worshipped him. He never saw me. Not until now. Now he dreamt about me. I was perfect to him. From being nothing, I was suddenly everything he thought about. It was intoxicating.

I already knew that I liked looking pretty. I know that sounds strange for a normal guy to say that, but there was something about seeing myself in the mirror with my hair looking good and my lipstick on, that brightened my day. As my father knew it would, it brightened everybody else's too. Since I had become Lizzie our home was a bright and happy place. We would never forget our mother, and her place in our hearts was assured, but that place was in our hearts, not our eyes. I was here, now.

I had a bath that night. I shaved my body. I moisturized it afterwards. Then I took some of the moisturizer on my finger and I stuck it up my asshole. I had never done that before. I just wondered what it would be like to be fucked up the ass. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

My mother had a vibrator. I had discovered it about a week after I took up residence in the main bedroom, when I was looking among her things. It was hidden so I guess my father didn't know. I thought that she might have used it when he was away for days bringing in stock from beyond the ridge. I checked the batteries.

I looked at myself in the mirror before I put on my night cream. The original hairstyle had grown out well. It was down to my shoulders and I know wore a side parting with a colorful hairclip during the day. I swept it up at the back. It was long enough to put up, and I longed to learn more about how to do that. I could be a really sophisticated lady, not just a farm girl. What did the future hold for me? One thing was becoming clear: There was no going back to boyhood.

It was a few nights after that when I brought myself to a true female orgasm for the first time with that vibrator. Only then did I start to wonder about what it would be like to have a real penis inside me. I was thinking about Haddon's penis.

I asked my father to take me to Stowbridge. I went to Frankies and I asked her about styling my longer hair. Her assistant had hair the same length as mine and as she had light custom that day, we spent time going through all sorts of styles that I could do at home.

"You need to practice," she said. She supplied some necessary equipment, all of which would be added to the bill my father would need to pay. I was late when I turned up to meet him, but I had never looked better. My hair was up in a special do, and wore false eyelashes for the first time. I looked like a Hollywood star. I did a little twirl for him. My father was stunned, and maybe not completely approving of this look. My mother would never have appeared like this.

When we walked down the street I could feel people looking at me. I could see the men thinking 'who is that beautiful woman' and the women thinking 'if only I looked as good as that'. I loved the feeling. When we got into the car I could see my father looking at me, and I could see his thoughts too. To settle my discomfort I said, in my sweetest girly voice: "Thank you Dan," and I kissed him on his weather-beaten cheek.

When I arrived home I still had time to make dinner so we could all sit down together, me and all my men about me. I say men because they all seemed that now. Mason would turn 14 on the weekend and had grown since our mother died. He said: "I love your new look, Lizzie."

I could almost smell the testosterone coming off Haddon. He stared at me all evening with nothing short of lust. There was a frustration on his face, but also adoration. At the yards a week ago he had been angry. Maybe angry with himself. I felt like telling him that we could make love. I was ready now. But the time as not right.

But that evening my father came to call. He insisted on taking my hair down and brushing it. He slept with me that night, his face in my fragrant locks, his arm across my hip. It was winter and his body was warm. I knew that my father desired me as much as my brother did, but he was more reserved. Maybe the instincts against sex with kin were stronger in him. I was not so sure.

Mason was throwing a birthday party on Sunday afternoon. Because our place was so far from town, the party was thrown at the hall next to the old Church about half way between the town and our front gate. I was instrumental in the whole thing so that meant my presence had to be explained.

Augie said: "Why don't you just tell everybody that you have taken over from Mom?"

My father suggested: "You could be my new girlfriend. Every man must move on from the past."

"They'd never believe it Pop," said Haddon. "She's just too pretty. She could be my girlfriend."

So, for the day I was. I made things ready and I Haddon and I put up some decorations. I had put my hair up, but in a more casual style, with some curls on top. I wore a dress suitable for a party and some shoes that I had bought myself, with heels.

When the guests arrived there were Mason's young friends, and some parents. that I needed to be introduced to. For some reason Haddon decided to introduce me as "Lily" rather than "Lizzie" -- Elizabeth was my mother's name after all. At least one person said to Haddon: "You seem to have a found a young woman who looks so much like your mother."

The official story was to be that the missing brother had drawn the short straw and was back at the farm looking after things. But the truth is that nobody asked after me. I had always been a bit of a non-entity.

But as "Lily" I was a hit. Everybody complimented my baking and the work I had done on decorations and activities. I engaged with some of the ladies talking about clothes and fashion trends, household issues, and the problem of looking after men. I was enjoying myself. More importantly, I was so completely feminine that nobody there would ever guess that I had a penis between my legs.

Then I was approached by Rachel Beamish, the older sister of one of the partygoers and a classmate of mine. If anyone was going to recognize me it would be her. I had to outdo myself here.

"So, you're Haddon's girl?" she asked. "What a catch." She obviously fancied him.

I looked at Haddon and he saw me and he started strolling over.

"I never wanted to be with a rancher," I said to Rachel. "I was raised on a farm and hoped to get away from all that. But here he is. How could I resist."

Haddon came up to me and kissed and nuzzled my neck. I giggled. Rachel walked away. Haddon didn't. He put his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear: "You are driving me crazy. I need to make to make love to you."

"Maybe tonight," I chided. "But only if you behave yourself."

I could see my father looking at us, disapprovingly. Suddenly my life had become very complicated.

But at the same time, I felt hugely powerful. The two most important people in the household desired me. What I had, they both wanted. I felt that it was time to test my power.

Haddon was like a lovesick puppy. He could not do enough for the rest of the night. I felt that he had earned his reward. But I knew that he would not be happy just to lie beside me as my father did. He would want me to suck him off or to penetrate me. I had no experience of either, but I felt that I needed to prepare myself,

I had already used the vibrator far too often, but that evening I flushed myself out using a cattle drenching tool, with warm water that had been perfumed with rose petals. I bathed and shaved my legs. I brushed out my hair and scented it a little.

On my last trip to Stowbridge I had bought nightgowns with some of the money my father had given me. I had a choice of practical or sexy, but I went with sexy. My breasts were clearly visible through it. I wore panties that held my things in, but not too tightly. It was possible to pull panties to one side and penetrate me as if my things were not even there, if you preferred that.

I could have gone to Haddon but I decided I would wait for him. I did not have to wait long. He knocked and then opened the door. I stood, trying to look as sexy as possible. He was wearing boxers and I could see my impact on him immediately he stood away from the door so that we could go to his room.

We turned the corner in the hall and I could hear my father coming up the stairs. He stopped and we both froze. My faster knocked on the master bedroom door. When he got no reply he whispered: "Lizzie" and opened the door. He then closed it and walked back down to sleep in the boxroom. I am not sure what made him decide not to enter, but it was lucky for us.

Haddon was pressed up against me in the hall. He kissed me. Tenderly. I think that what I did then was swoon. I guess that was what it was. He picked me up as if I was a new born steer and carried me to his bed.

I did not have to wonder after that. I knew what it was like to take a man inside me, full length. I felt the hot semen inside me for the first time, and then a second, and much later a third time. I felt a strong young man hold my body and turn it to his will. I felt how tender calloused hands can be running over soft skin like mine, touching all the points designed to pleasure me. After that night I knew what it was like for a woman to be physically loved and worshipped.

The following night my father came up earlier and slipped into bed with me. Haddon came to call too. He did not knock. He opened the door quietly and then closed it quietly. He understood that I needed to share myself.

I had actually prepared my asshole for my father that night, but he did not take advantage. But he did appreciate that I took his cock in my hand and jacked him off into a Kleenex. He kissed me on the lips, but it was not the same as Haddon. It was gentler and perhaps more loving than passionate. No tongue, which made me happy. My relationship with my father was just different.

When I woke up I was in my father's arms. His body was hard and weathered, but warm and strong. I felt that in all the years I was this man's son, I could get as close to him as I was now. It is a special love. Not even a daughter could experience this.

He was awake and caressing me. I asked him: "Dan, don't you want to make love to me?"

He pulled himself onto an elbow and he looked me in the eyes. His eyes were moist, almost as if there would be tears about to flow. He said softly: "I want you to be my wife ... or live as my wife. But only if we can make love as a husband and wife do. I cannot bear the thought of maleness down there. I want you to have an operation to get rid of it. To get a vagina."

I blurted out: "Haddon doesn't care. He is happy with me the way I am."

"It pains me to say it," my father said, "But that makes him a pervert."

I laughed humorlessly. "You're the one who dressed me like a woman, who has been injecting me with hormones every month, taking a boy for beauty treatments and hair styling. What does that make you?"

"I am a man," he said. Nobody could doubt that. "I'm a man who needed a woman. And you've always been there. I needed a wife and a mother, and you were there. You may not have seen it in yourself, but I always have. If I was wrong, then take off the dress now. I'll get the clippers and we will shave off that hair."

"No," I squealed. "No, please, Daddy please don't." It was the first time I had called him 'Daddy'.

"So are you a boy in a dress, or a woman?"

"I want to be a woman. A real woman. Not a boy pretending to be one. I don't care for what is between my legs. I would be really happy to have a vagina." I could hear myself saying the words, but I could not quite believe it. I once was a normal young man, and now I was throwing aside my cock and balls. But it was because I knew they were no longer part of me. All I ever did was hide them, and curse the fact that they were there at all, ruining the look of my panties, and preventing me from wearing tighter knits or a swimsuit.

This is who I was now. What I had between my legs did not belong there. It was all wrong. I wanted to put things right.

"Daddy," I said. "If I did get one, a vagina, I am not promising to be your wife."

"I only want you to be happy," he said. I have no doubt that he meant it. It seemed like calling him 'Daddy' had somehow broken him out of the idea that I was some recreation of the woman that he had loved and lost. I was now his daughter, or his son who needed to become his daughter, and he was my father, with the obligation to protect me, not exploit me.

A man who wants to be surgically altered to become female is transgendered. I knew that, so I guess I knew that was what I was. Up until then I had never understood it. Maybe only my father saw the woman in me. Haddon never saw it until my tits were in his face. In fact he never saw me.

In fact I have to say that my decision to accept my father's invitation and have the surgery did not please Haddon at all. The truth is that he had a hankering for another type of girl. In the end, he found one -- an ex-farmhand with big tits and big hair, and I suspect a bigger dick than his. She was perfect for him

I could not stay with my father either. After the operation I never stopped looking for a man who had not known me as anybody else but me, but was willing to take me as I am, born as I was, corrected as I had been.

And the man I found years later? Luck is, that he is a farmer, just like my father and brother -- just a bit richer. A widower with three children. A loving husband and a ready-made family that I could care for as I had done my own.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2018