(Hi! It's Rita. Sorry for the long delay. I had a number of projects to finish off as well as a much needed vacation on Cape Cod with Danny. I decided that instead of working on a fictional piece I'd continue with relating to you the lives of those nearest and dearest to me. This is Laura's story. Again, as with Monica's story it will be told in the first person. Enjoy! Kisses!!!)
My name was Larry. I wasn't very happy as a child. I had a very domineering father. Oh, he wasn't physically abusive or anything but I never felt that I could live up to his expectations. I was rather petite for a boy. He was an avid sports fan and actually lettered in a number of sports in school. I, on the other hand, was dismal at everything he tried to get me to do. I remember a time when he was tossing a football to me and it hit me in the stomach. I must have been about 8 or 9 at the time. I fell to the ground and cried like a baby. I could feel waves of disgust coming from him. After that he just sort of distanced himself from me. My mom was very sweet to me though. She tried to defend me but her words were just wasted on his ears. I remember laying in bed one night and I could hear a heated conversation coming from their bedroom. She was sticking up for me or trying to when I heard my father say..." I wanted a son but all I got is a pathetic sissy"! I cried myself to sleep. Not being very good a sports also had it's effect on me at school. I didn't mix well with alot of the other boys having nothing really in common with them. I did, however, excel in academics. Most of my grades were "A's". Especially math. I loved working with numbers. I was so good, in fact, that often my teacher would ask me to assist the other students who were struggling with it. This didn't exactly endear me with some of the boys. I found some of the girls more receptive, though. So, in a nut shell, my early years were not so good.
Having so much time to myself I became an avid reader. My taste in literature was unusual for a young teen. By the age of thirteen I had devoured most of the classics of 19th century English lit. I loved the descriptions of the women in their beautiful gowns. That was something I kept to myself. I also would, when no one was a home, pour over my mom's magazines. Especially Vouge. I was so drawn to women's fashions for some odd reason I couldn't fathom. This led me to looking through my mothers closets and drawers. I became enamoured of soft silky materials. At this point it never entered my head to try them on. Just the feel excited me in ways I never felt before. Only in my deepest fantasies would I dream of wearing such clothes. I was very confused about these feelings but I didn't care. After all, my father thought I was a sissy anyway.
My name was Larry. I wasn't very happy as a child. I had a very domineering father. Oh, he wasn't physically abusive or anything but I never felt that I could live up to his expectations. I was rather petite for a boy. He was an avid sports fan and actually lettered in a number of sports in school. I, on the other hand, was dismal at everything he tried to get me to do. I remember a time when he was tossing a football to me and it hit me in the stomach. I must have been about 8 or 9 at the time. I fell to the ground and cried like a baby. I could feel waves of disgust coming from him. After that he just sort of distanced himself from me. My mom was very sweet to me though. She tried to defend me but her words were just wasted on his ears. I remember laying in bed one night and I could hear a heated conversation coming from their bedroom. She was sticking up for me or trying to when I heard my father say..." I wanted a son but all I got is a pathetic sissy"! I cried myself to sleep. Not being very good a sports also had it's effect on me at school. I didn't mix well with alot of the other boys having nothing really in common with them. I did, however, excel in academics. Most of my grades were "A's". Especially math. I loved working with numbers. I was so good, in fact, that often my teacher would ask me to assist the other students who were struggling with it. This didn't exactly endear me with some of the boys. I found some of the girls more receptive, though. So, in a nut shell, my early years were not so good.
Having so much time to myself I became an avid reader. My taste in literature was unusual for a young teen. By the age of thirteen I had devoured most of the classics of 19th century English lit. I loved the descriptions of the women in their beautiful gowns. That was something I kept to myself. I also would, when no one was a home, pour over my mom's magazines. Especially Vouge. I was so drawn to women's fashions for some odd reason I couldn't fathom. This led me to looking through my mothers closets and drawers. I became enamoured of soft silky materials. At this point it never entered my head to try them on. Just the feel excited me in ways I never felt before. Only in my deepest fantasies would I dream of wearing such clothes. I was very confused about these feelings but I didn't care. After all, my father thought I was a sissy anyway.
My parents would sometimes vacation without me. At those times I was shipped off to my grandmother. It wasn't so bad because I enjoyed being with my cousin, Monica. She was fun and she was also very pretty. Sometimes she was a bit bossy but I usually enjoyed whatever it was she wanted to do. I remember on rainy afternoon while I had my nose in a book and she was busy drawing in a sketch pad. I asked if I could see her work. She showed me what appeared to be fashion sketches. The clothes were meticulously drawn. What was odd was that the models all had boyish hair. I asked her about it. "That's because they are boys, silly!", she giggled. I was dumbstruck. "But boys don't wear dresses!", I replied. "Some do", she said. I let it drop but I would catch her eyeing me over for the rest of the day. It was later that week that she lent me one of her swimsuits since I hadn't brought one of my own. She convinced me to wear the top as well. It was the first time I ever wore a female garment in my life. It made me feel all fuzzy inside but I didn't let on for fear she would think I was some sort of sissy. Well, if you read Monica's story you already know that I willingly let her dress me up in her flower girl dress the very next day. I was chock full of conflicting emotions seeing myself dressed and made up like a girl. It felt right somehow. I was never more at peace with myself. I was Laura!
Monica and I became very tight after that. We talked everyday on the phone and I managed to spend most weekends at her house so I could dress and practice being a girl. She would tease me and call me her little sissy. Coming from her I took it as a compliment. I would sometimes practice my makeup skills at home always with the fear of being caught. Eventually I was. I had just turned 18 and was just excepted into college. My parents were going out to visit friends and I though I had plenty of time to be the real me. I don't know why I didn't hear them come in but as I walked out of the bathroom to get a new lipstick I had bought that day there they were, standing there! I was wearing just a matching pantie and cami set with my face all made up (except my lipstick, of course!). There was that moment when time seemed to stand still. And then, pardon my language, the shit hit the fan. I won't go into detail but as you can imagine it was a pretty ugly scene. I was kicked out of the house. Right then and there. I wasn't allowed to even remove my makeup. I was one scared little t-girl, let me tell you! I quickly packed and left. I had only one place to go. I called Monica and told her what happened. When I got there I was greeted by her as well as her father. My Uncle Joe. He knew about me and didn't have a problem with it. He's a very understanding man. I love him to death. I was so happy to finally have everything out in the open. It was a night of tears from both Monica and me. We talked all night. I had come to the decision that I would go all the way and become the woman I felt I was meant to be.
As time went on I attended school during the day as Larry and live as my true self in every other way. I found a doctor and began a ridged hormone therapy. Not the most fun thing to do but I felt it was essential. I even worked as a girl. Both Monica and I became waitresses at her father's restaurant. It was so cool! I poured myself, as usual, into my schoolwork and graduated with honors. I set my sights on being a successful business woman. It was very important to me to be successful. I had to prove to my parents that I was better off being a woman and that the world didn't see things as narrow mindedly as they did. Well, my father really. I still had a relationship with my mom. After I had my breast implants there was no turning back. I began getting plenty of notice from men and decided to start dating. I was very selective and never went with a guy who didn't know what I was packing in my panties. I guess I went through my little "whore" period. I learned to love getting fucked and honed my skills as a cock sucker. Some might say that I fucked myself to the top and maybe I did but I always made money for whoever I was working with. A little afternoon "nookie" with a client was just a fringe benefit that we both enjoyed. After I was able to set myself up in my own place and start making good money I sort of settled down. It was about that time when Monica introduced me to Rita. I was immediately drawn to her as we both had a similar upbringing. Although she had much more support. I still crave a good man but being in the sack with her is one of my life's great joys. We're still together and living happily here in Lorita! Thank you Rita. Thank you Monica! And thank you for reading about my life!
