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Subject: {ASSM} New TG from Waldo - Schooldays - Part 1 of 3
Date: Fri,  1 Dec 2000 05:10:04 -0500
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Schooldays

By Waldo

Chapter 1 - Home alone

I'll never forget March 7th. It started out as a normal morning with 
my mother giving me my lunch money and telling me "to have a 
good day at school."  I farted around getting to the bus stop and 
somehow missed the bus so I had no choice but to return home 
and miss school for the day.  By the time that I happily skipped 
back home, Mom was already gone to work and the house was 
totally empty.  Gee, an empty house, an algebra test scheduled for 
second period that I hadn't studied for and I missed the school 
bus.  What should I do?

Like all good young men, I decided to take advantage of the 
situation and to enjoy my unapproved day off from school.  
Because of the way that I planned it, Mom would never know that I 
was playing hooky. It would give me the chance to do a couple of 
things that I wanted to do in one of those special times when I was 
the only one home.  I was busily doing my favorite pastime within 
the privacy of my mother's bedroom when I heard the unexpected 
click of the bedroom door opening.  Started by the startling sound 
of the door opening, I turned to see my mother quietly standing in 
the doorway looking at me.

I was caught.  Not only was I caught playing hooky from school, 
but I was also caught playing one of my private games.  At that 
moment, I seriously wanted to instantly die but I knew that I 
couldn't be that lucky. Although her voice sounded relatively calm 
when she asked me "Roy, what are you doing?" I could tell that I 
was dead meat no matter what I answered. For a very long second, 
I considered lying to her question. Then looking in the bedroom's 
full-length mirror at the way that I was currently dressed, I knew 
that I couldn't come up with an acceptable lie that could explain 
my current appearance.

After all, I was standing in my mother's bedroom dressed in her 
clothes. Yeah, I was wearing her pink chiffon dress and white high 
heel shoes. Underneath the dress, I had on one of her bras, which 
was padded with a couple of apples wrapped in my socks to create 
a realistic jiggle within the bra when I walked across the bedroom 
floor. Also I had my mother's panties on under the dress as well as 
wearing her pantyhose. Around my neck was the pearl necklace 
given to my mother by my grandmother and I had a couple of 
miscellaneous pieces of jewelry on my fingers and wrists such as 
the turquoise rings that my mother occasionally wears when she 
goes out on a date. I also had on that emergency brown "Mary 
Tyler Moore" old wig that Mom keeps in her closet for those 
mornings when she awakens too late to fix her hair. And my lips 
were heavily coated with some of her bright red lipstick.  

Yeah, I knew that I couldn't come up with a lie good enough to 
explain my awkward appearance.  So I told her the truth.  Or at 
least it was something that I was hoping that she would accept as 
the truth. "Uh, you see, uh, it's not what you think Mom, uh, I 
didn't, uh, you see they are having a school play and like none of 
the girls wanted to participate.  So I was seeing if I could look 
convincing enough to play the female lead just to do them a favor 
so that we could have the play.  Sort of a gag role, you know. Uh, 
what are you doing back home?"

Yeah, we were having a school play but I certainly had no intention 
of being in the stupid school play, much less of wearing a dress on 
a stage in front of any of my jeering boorish classmates.  But it was 
the best lie that I could come up with quickly, under the stressful 
circumstances.

"When you weren't present for the 8:15 morning report, the school 
secretary called me at work to make sure that I was aware of your 
absence. It's the third absence since Christmas.  I came home to 
see why you weren't in school.  So you're thinking about applying 
for a female role in a school play, are you?"

"Uh, yes.  After all, you keep telling me that I need to be a little 
more involved in school activities."

The sucking sound of her work shoes clacking against the bedroom 
hard wooden floors pounded loud in my ears as she walked toward 
me and then moved in a slow circle around me as she examined 
me.  I stood still as she walked around me, knowing that my knees 
were trembling so hard that I was afraid that I was going to faint. 
Stopping when she was standing in front of me, she smiled as she 
critiqued me. "Not bad.  With your lithe body, you're very passable.  
Next year when your shoulders have broaden a little more, you 
wouldn't be able to get away with it as easy then but I think that 
you could convincingly play that girl's role now.  What's the name 
of the play?"

"Uh, I don't remember. I had decided just before you came home 
that I probably wouldn't even try out for it. After all, I need to 
spend more time studying to improve my grades before I get 
involved in any extra activities."

Putting her hands on my shoulder, she turned me so that I was 
facing the full-length mirror again.  Standing behind me, she 
stared over my shoulder at our images in the mirror. I was 
surprised when she adjusted the bangs of the wig with her 
fingertips as she looked at me in the mirror.  For the first time, I 
noticed the light coating of sweat on my forehead and that my 
lower lip was trembling slightly.

"Too bad. School plays have a way of displaying talents that are 
usually kept hidden.  You know, you should have been born a girl.  
You've always had the longest eyelashes and prettiest lips."

I felt the wave of red embarrassment burn through my face and I 
didn't have to look at my face in the mirror to know that my cheeks 
were blushing at her comment. I started to unbutton the dress to 
take it off and Mom stopped me by putting her hands on my 
shoulder and pushing me toward her makeup table. "When you 
were just a wee, wee, wee little baby still within my belly, I 
wondered if you were going to be a boy or girl.  Back then, I wanted 
to have a daughter so that I could have someone that I dressed up 
and went shopping with as we talked silly girl talk to each other.  I 
was very happy when I discovered that you were born a boy but 
I've always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter. Sit 
down for a moment."

"Uh mom, I just remembered that I've got an algebra test this 
morning. If I change into my clothes quickly, you can drive me to 
school in time so that I could probably still take it."    
 
Her hands pressing against my shoulder guided me into the chair 
at her makeup table. As she flicked the lights on so that the 
makeup lights brightly illuminated my face, I felt two different 
emotions.  One emotion was that I was scared and wanted to go 
rub the lipstick off my quivering lips and to change into my normal 
clothes so that I could run to school to escape this awkward 
situation.  The second emotion was that I was feeling aroused by 
my mother's unexpected cooperating attitude over my unusual 
appearance.

"The school's already marked you absent for today and I took 
annual leave to come home to see why you weren't in school.  So 
we're both here.  We have the same interests where we want you to 
actively participate in more school activities and you're already 
dressed in my clothes.  We will just take a few minutes to give you 
some professional help and then we can both see what you would 
have probably looked like if you had been born as a girl. Then you 
can make up your mind about trying out for that female role in the 
school play."

I opened my mouth to politely turn down her suggestion but never 
got the chance as she began removing the lipstick from my lips 
with some tissues.  "Roy, too much lipstick makes anyone look like 
a drag queen. Let's take this off and I'll do it right.  Now shut up 
and watch what I'm doing.  You will have to know how to correctly 
do this if you're serious about trying out for that part in the play. 
Putting on your makeup so that you look more realistic can help 
give you a girlish attitude so that you appear more natural and 
relaxed."

As my mother's hand kept mashing against my mouth to remove 
the lipstick, I wanted to shout. I wanted to scream to release the 
mixed joy and terror that I was feeling from her calm reaction to 
finding me wearing her clothes.

I didn't say anything and just stared at my face in the mirror as 
she applied foundation to my face covering up my couple of pock 
scars. Then the softness of her fingertips spreading the blush over 
my cheeks created rosy cheekbones, blended highlights and soft 
shadows that totally changed the shape of my face making it softer 
and more feminine. I had to shut my eyes as she applied eyeliner 
and mascara although she described everything that she was doing 
as she did it. But as she worked on one eye, I would open the other 
eye to watch the way that she changed the total look of my face 
with her skillful application of makeup. 

In less than three minutes, she changed my face so much that I 
didn't even recognize myself. Instead of an acne-faced boy's face, I 
now had a realistic looking girl's face.  A beautiful girl's face.  A 
gorgeous girl's face.  All right, I was slightly biased but my face did 
look pretty with the makeup creating cheekbones and highlighting 
my eyes. 

Using some small scissors, she slightly thinned my eyebrows giving 
me a Brooke Shields type look so that my brows weren't so heavily 
thick but at the same time weren't so thin that I would be 
embarrassed later by my fellow classmates. After she applied the 
lipstick and had me blot it on a tissue, she picked up a brush and 
began working on the hair.

As she teased the wig and made it look a little more natural, I 
stared at my new face in the mirror.  I couldn't believe the 
difference that a little correctly applied makeup made in my 
appearance.  I was beautiful.  I looked just like a real girl.   

I was memorizing everything about my new look when I was 
startled by the strong smell of perfume. My mother smeared some 
of her perfume on my neck while she commented. "Seeing as how 
you aren't going to school today, we might as well make this a total 
experience for you.  This is my favorite perfume that I wear only on 
special occasions.  How do you like it?"

I couldn't tell her how I really liked it. After all, how do tell your 
mother that the wonderful delicate smell of her sexiest perfume on 
your body was giving you an erection?

Yeah, I had an erection but couldn't do anything about it.  I just 
wished that Mom would leave the room for a second so that I could 
adjust it within her borrowed panties so that it didn't feel so 
uncomfortable. Knowing that I couldn't adjust it without attracting 
her attention to it, I tried to ignore it.

So I just blurted the only thing that came to my mind.  "Smells 
peachy."

"Peachy?  I hope not. This is supposed to invoke mental images in 
a man's mind of wild passionate sex, not of some peach orchard."

My mother said the "sex" word to me. But I didn't have time to 
think about her choice of words and rattled off a quick 
explanation.  "Uh, no.  Peachy is just an expression.  Peachy keen, 
you know.  The perfume has a smell that I can't really describe."

With one tug on my wrist, she pulled me to my feet and turned me 
so that she was facing me.  Standing in front of her while wearing 
her borrowed high heels, I noticed that we were at eye level with 
each other. She stared at me with a funny little quizzical smile on 
her face as she examined my face. Winking at me as if to share a 
secret, she laughed as if this was fun for her to dress me as a girl. 
"I know what was missing. You need some earrings.  I know, my 
small gold hoops would be perfect for you."

Leaving me alone for a moment, I watched her as she turned her 
back to dig through her jewelry box. I used that moment of 
distraction to tug at my erection and to arrange it within the 
panties so that it was pressed straight up my belly instead of 
sticking out at an awkward angle.  By the time that Mom came 
back to me with the earrings, my groin looked more normal under 
her dress. 

As soon as she clipped the earrings onto each of my ears, she 
stepped back so that she was able to easily see my whole body and 
whispered, "If I didn't know better, I would swear that you were a 
real girl.  How does it feel to be my beautiful daughter instead of 
my gangly son?"

"Uh, I don't feel any different. After all, it's just clothes and a little 
makeup. And I'm only doing it so that I can make up my mind 
about trying out for that play."

Stepping toward me again, I was very surprised when her hand 
grabbed one of my make-believe breasts and adjusted it as she 
laughed.  "This boob is lopsided.  What do you have in there?"

"Apple.  Apple inside a rolled-up sock."

"Well, you're going to have to frequently look at yourself in a mirror 
to make sure that you're not that lopsided again.  Boobs are 
supposed to be parallel, not horizontal. You sure do look nice."

"Thanks mom.  Well, now that I see how I look as a girl, I don't 
think that I'll try out for that play after all. I'm going to change 
clothes and ....."

"Nonsense.  I don't care whether you try out for that play or not, 
but I don't want you to change clothes yet. I want to see what it's 
like to have a daughter for a day.  I want you to remain dressed 
like that and to pretend to be a real girl all day long. I won't make 
you wash dishes or do any woman chores, but I just want you to 
pretend to be my little teenaged daughter today.  Will you do that?  
For me?  Pretty please?"

I wanted to scream, "YES" but tried to keep my voice flat and 
monotone when I answered.  "Uh, if you insist."  

Clutching my hand tightly, she pulled me toward a blank wall. Her 
bedroom has several pictures hanging on the wall but she had me 
stand against a bare section of the wall.  Stepping back from me, 
she adopted her familiar pose where she stood with her left hand 
supporting her right elbow and her right hand supporting her chin 
as she studied the way that I looked.  "I'd never noticed before how 
much we look alike.  I knew that you had my lips but you've also 
got your father's nose.  But with that wig and makeup on, you look 
just like a younger version of me, Roy.  Roy?  That doesn't like 
right for a pretty girl. Would you mind if I called you Tonya?  That 
was what I was going to name you if you had been born a girl.  
Tonya Marie Duff was going to be your name.  Instead you wound 
up as Roy Wayne Duff simply because you had the cutest little 
itsy-bitsy pee spout between your legs.  Yes, you're going to be my 
Tonya today."

I didn't know what to say.  Fifteen minutes earlier, my life was 
ending when I had looked up to see my mother unexpectedly 
standing in the doorway.  And now she was standing a few feet 
away from me so that she could see her "new daughter" and she 
was proudly calling me Tonya.

Moving to her bed, she sat down on it as she opened the 
nightstand and removed a pack of cigarettes.  After lighting one, 
she looked at me still standing against the wall.  I was still too 
stunned to do anything but stand there like an idiot. Blowing a 
small cloud of smoke, she further surprised me by speaking to me 
in a girl-to-girl tone of voice similar to the one that my Aunt Cathy 
uses with my Cousin Nancy.  "Tonya, looking like a girl is only half 
of the feminine mystique.  The other half is creating an undeniable 
image of being a girl.  Girls stand differently than boys who only 
know how to slouch and lean against walls. Girls use their body 
language and constantly changing facial expressions to emphasize 
their words. But before we get into that, let's start with the basics. 
Girls certainly walk different.  You're at the age where you've 
noticed the way that they walk.  Let's see you walk like a girl.  
Walk toward the bathroom door."

The sound of my feet in my mother's high heeled shoes clicking on 
the hard wooden floor sounded too loud to me as I walked.  In the 
silence of the bedroom, I also heard another sound.  The 
unmistakable sound of my mother's pantyhose around my legs 
swishing as my thighs rubbed as I walked.

"No, Tonya.  You look like you're a Bull Moose walking.  Here, 
watch me and walk behind me.  Move your hips and arms the way 
that I move mine."

I followed her five times across the bedroom before she was 
satisfied with my walking style. "That's great.  You're picking it up 
very good.  You're a natural in high heels."

I stopped myself from biting my lip as she hinted that she thought 
that I adapted too quickly to walking in the high heels.  I prayed 
that she wouldn't ask me if I had ever dressed in her clothes 
before.

(to be continued)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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