Crossing Texas – Chapter Sixteen
About two in the afternoon my “mommy” sent me to the restaurant to see Sara. Feeling foolish, I quietly entered the restaurant carrying my small red purse in one hand, and a fully dressed Barbi doll in the other. Sara, Amy and Emily were seated at a table.
“Pammy dear, come sit with us. We must have a girl talk,” said Sara.
“Yes, auntie Sara,” I said as I gently sat at the table. I set my purse in my lap, and the Barbi doll upon the table. The high school girls grinned at me, while Sara had an air of seriousness.
“Pamela, your mommy asked us to explain to you what it means to become a woman.”
“Yes.,” I replied quizzically.
“That’s right,” Amy added.
“Since you’re a girl and of that special age, you must know certain things.”
“I don’t understand, auntie Amy, what things?”
“Woman things, Pamela. Female matters!”
“You mean like, makeup? Dresses?”
“No, that’s not what Amy means,” said Sara.
“Look at you,” Sara continued as she reached over and touched my chest, “you have no breasts. Now look at me; I have female breasts. Do you understand now?”
“Yes,” I replied, embarrassed.
“We’ll explain to you a few of the things all girls must know when they come of age. For example, women have periods. Amy has generously volunteered to teach you about your menstrual cycle. Isn’t that nice of her?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” I said softly.
“And Emily will explain to your how your body will change is you mature into a woman.
“Yes, auntie,” I replied glumly. The idea that I, who just days ago was a typical 20 year old male, would be instructed on such topics by girls who were several years my junior, was almost more than I could comprehend.
“And, young lady, I will cover two difficult subjects: sex and pregnancy.
All fertile young girls must understand the consequences of sex.”
And so it went. I endured the next two hours with great difficulty. Emily, the pretty brunette girl with impish impulses, gleefully explained how my breasts and nipples would develop, my hips and ass would become curved and sexy, while my lips, too, would become full and sensuous. She used the Barbi doll to illustrate, removing Barbi’s prom dress to show her tits. Arching her back slightly, she smiled and said, “Yes, Pamela, maybe someday you’ll have a beautiful female body just like mine, and you’ll drive the boys crazy, just like I do!”
Amy giggled ceaselessly while she told me how I would soon began to bleed monthly, and how I should use the various feminine hygiene products to get me through my periods.
Sara went into great detail about sex, explaining how a man could impregnate me, and how I could “service” my partner (alas, she assumed a male partner) without going “all the way”. I fidgeted with the Barbi doll, bit my lower lip and stared at a spot on the floor as Sara explained oral sex and anal sex, from a female perspective.
“But,” I countered to Sara, whom I desired so very much, “I don’t like men, not in that way. Really, I don’t!”
“Oh, Pamela,” Sara said knowingly, “that really doesn’t matter. If you look sexy the men will desire you, and then you must know how to make them happy. Whether or not you desire them is irrelevant. The world doesn’t revolve around women’s pleasure, you know. But believe me, Pammy, giving pleasure to a man, particularly to your very own man, will make you feel unbelievably fulfilled. You’ll see.” The two teens giggled at Sara’s words, directed as they were at me, a male of sorts. I could only hope that someday Sara might choose to please me, the male me, in just such a manner.
The lesson ended with all of us seated at a table in the empty restaurant.
The three females discussed the boys in their lives, and how they “serviced” the boys, even at times when they were most fertile and also when it was their “time of the month”. I noticed Sara casually slip off one of her high heels and, with her legs crossed, look down to inspect the red nail polish on her toenails. She did this unconsciously. Sexy feminine mannerisms came naturally to Sara, while I struggled to fit into even a generic female mold. As the girls talked, I stared at Sara’s naked foot and imagined myself fondling it, smelling it, licking it.
After I had been instructed in the process and the joys of becoming a woman (“you are a flower opening up to the morning sun,” Amy said), Sara ordered me to accompany Amy and Emily to the store. She refused to say why. Thus, still clutching my little red purse and the Barbi doll, I sat in the back seat of Amy’s small car. Emily had taken the front, without even asking me where I’d like to sit. Anxious as to where I was being taken, I nonetheless remained silent. After just five or ten minutes Amy pulled into the parking lot of a large Walgreen’s drug store. I prayed they would allow me to remain in the car.
“Well, come on little girl,” Emily commanded after opening the car door, “get out!”
“But why, auntie Emily,” I said, cowering in the back seat.
“I don’t want to go in there. Not like this. Please, auntie Emily!”
“Pamela. Your mommy said you must,” Amy said in an apologetic tone.
“Please, auntie.,” I implored, but the girls just turned away and walked into the drugstore. Reluctantly I too exited the car and walked towards the store.
Apprehensively I followed the girls into the store. I felt like a fool: less than a man, for sure, and even less than a woman. Dressed as I was, in a young girl’s red shift, with my hair in pigtails, wearing girl’s flats and knee-high stockings, it was clear I was neither man nor woman. Surely I was too large to pass as a young girl, and I was too flat to be a woman, which meant any casual observer could likely easily deduce my true sex. I realized that my situation was now much worse than during my previous shopping trip with Sara, for then I was a man acting as a somewhat passable woman. Now I was a man posing as a young girl, which was worse than just odd.
Once inside, Emily said to me “Go find your tampons, Pammy,” then she and Amy went to the counter and greeted another girl. I stood frozen for a few moments before I scurried over to an aisle labeled “feminine products”.
“Tammy,” Emily said to her friend who worked as a cashier in the store, “you won’t believe this! See that person walking down that aisle?”
“Yeah,” Tammy replied, “you mean that girl in the red dress? What about her?” Tammy was a petite brunette, her hair cut short and styled.
“It’s not a her, Tammy, it’s a pansy guy in a girl’s dress. Can you believe it? A guy dressed like a ten year old girl!”
“Is she a friend of yours?”
“No way,” Emily said.
“He works with us, and our boss paid us to take him here. The boss feels sorry for him.”
“It’s really weird,” Amy added soberly.
“So what’s he doing here,” Tammy asked.
“Get this. He’s here to buy tampons. For himself!” Emily said.
“No way!”
“Yes, it’s true,” Amy said.
“He’s got this flaky idea that he needs to have his first period so that he’ll feel more like a woman or something. It’s really kinda sad.”
“I’ve got to see this for myself,” Tammy laughed.
The End of Crossing Texas – Chapter Sixteen.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index