Archive-name: Changes/brawear1.txt
Archive-author: Terri Merritt
Archive-title: Bra For Mickey, A


It was a hot June day.  The kind of day that made you feel that
you were swimming in the air rather than breathing it.  I was
sitting in front of the fan trying to stay cool.  I was
completely naked.  I looked down at my body examining the source
of my greatest shame.  I have an o.k. male body except for the
size of my chest.

From the time I was 10 years old I had always been embarrassed by
my chest.  I remember how free I had once felt being able to run
around at the pool with my shirt off, no more.  Where a perfectly
flat chest had been as a little boy now I had developed larger
breasts than some women I knew.  I found it hard to buy clothes
that fit because of them. I always have to get a large chest size
even though the neck and waist is always much too large. 

I remember the day at age 13 when it finally hit me that I was
different. I was playing happily in the local pool with some
friends. I was oblivious to anyone's looking at me, I had
convinced myself that I was too self conscious. It was then that
a 16 year old girl called me over to her and said, "Hey Mickey,
why don't you buy a bra!", I ran back into the pool- crushed.  I
felt like I had been hit by a cannon ball. I thought to myself,
"I wish I were a girl, I would be accepted, even admired for my
chest, my breasts, my boobs... if I were a girl." I stopped going
to the pool. Even now some 20 years later I can still feel the
pain of that day.  I started to sob softly as I remembered it. It
was only in private that I felt comfortable with my shirt off and
my large breasts exposed. I wonder what they would look like in a
bra?  Or wearing a dress that was designed with a full cut top
and a narrow waist?  I wonder what it would be like to get
completely dressed as a woman and go out on the town wearing a
bra and a dress, and jewelry and having long silky sensual hair?
I had never shared my fantasy with anyone, although the thought
of it felt thrilling.

As the fan continued to whir, I was awakened from my daydream by
the doorbell ranging, I wiped my tear streaked face with a towel
and slipped on my shorts. When I pulled open the door a friend of
mine, Wendy, bounced in full of excitement and life.  Wendy had
just been shopping and thought that I could use some company. 
She said that her apartment was full of the day's purchases and
she wanted to model everything for me. Since her hair was now cut
very short she said had even bought a long wig for a more soft
feminine appearance on special occasions. But even with her short
hair there was no doubt that Wendy was all woman, her curvaceous
body was the envy of every woman and the lust of every man who
saw her. She had an athletic body that told you she worked out,
but she didn't allow herself to become all skin and bones, you
could see her womanly figure tugging at her bra, and her full
hips filling her skirt.  Even at age 35 she looked like a fresh
yet sensual teenager. Wendy was a beauty parlor operator and her
appearance was the best advertizement for her trade. "Hi Mickey" 
She said in a singsong voice as she entered into my warm
apartment.  She chattered on about the mall and all the things
she had purchased. Then, she noticed that I had been upset about
something.  Wendy asked me what was wrong. I looked at her afraid
to say. Then, as though a dam had broken inside of me the whole
thing tumbled out, the years of hurt, of insecurity, the teasing
at school, and even the fantasy of actually being a girl (or now
a woman). I told her that I had never told anyone and asked her
to please keep my secret. Wendy took me in her arms and held me
as my tears came again, she was being strong for me in my
personal weakness.  With Wendy holding me I felt someone at last
understood. She was like a sister in whom I could confide my
deepest secrets.

After I quit sobbing Wendy told me that she had an idea of how I
might find some help for my inner pain. She said, "What if I
could make you into your fantasy?"  "What do you mean?" My voice
trembled.  "What if I could transform you into a buxom beauty
that would be admired for your ample attributes? I'll bet that I
could make you up and dress you so that no one would know that
you weren't born a woman, you could proudly display your breasts
for all to see."  

I didn't know what to say. Wendy knew I wanted it even though I
was afraid to say so, she instructed me to follow her down the
hall into her apartment, It was much cooler in her apartment with
the air conditioner running.  As we entered Wendy began to open
the boxes that she had brought that day and pulled out articles
of clothing, a bra, panties, a long flowing floral dress and a
beautiful long blonde wig. "Well" she asked, a smile crossing her face. 
"Strip out of those old boy things and I'm going to get you ready
to knock some eyes out, you'll be a gorgeous sex kitten before
I'm through with you!" My breathing was getting more rapid, I
couldn't believe what she was saying, I was a little scared, but
I obediently followed her instructions.

After I stripped, Wendy lead me to the bathroom and shaved my
legs, and my chest. As she shaved my chest she teased me by
saying, "When I'm done with you honey, these sexy titties of
yours are going to make people sit up and take notice."  If I
blushed Wendy didn't seem to notice.  She acted with a
professional air that calmed me. I felt as though I was one of
her clients at her chic uptown beauty boutique.  She even began
to call me "Michelle" and engage me in "girl talk". Telling me
how Men don't understand what "we women" go through getting ready
for a date.

After the shaving was done Wendy sat me down in the bathroom and
plucked my eyebrows so that they formed a feminine arch.  She
said, "Now Michelle I didn't want you to look until she I'm all
done, I want you to get the full effect." With that she continued
the process, putting on eyeliner, mascara, and blush.  She asked
me to pout out my lips more and she applied a pink lipstick.  I
was getting anxious to see.  "Now Michelle" Wendy said, "You are
getting there but there is still some more to do, tonight there
are going to be some broken hearts about you!"  I wasn't sure
what she meant but I sat there obediently.  To my fingernails she
added some long tips so that my hands looked beautifully
feminine. Wendy did my fingernails in a pink frosted polish  and
did my toenails in the same color.  She fussed for about an hour
over all the details of my makeup until she finally smiled and
kissed my forehead. "There you are little sister." she said
lovingly. Then she went over to her jewelry box and produced a
pair of long earrings and clipped them on my ears, then she put a
gold chain around my neck with a little heart pendent.  Finally
standing back admiring her work said "done."

Before I could look in a mirror Wendy pulled me out into her
living room and made me slip on a pink garter belt and panties. 
The satin material felt deliciously soft against my naked skin.
Then she produced a light pink bra that matched the panties and
garter belt. I began to tremble slightly.  Wendy knew, I had
always wondered what it would be like to wear a bra but I had
never dared to try one on.  Silently as though she was holding a
wounded sparrow Wendy stepped in back of me, slid the straps over
each arm, and pulled up the cups of the bra over my... eh,
breasts.  There I said it, they were now breasts, titties, my
boobs.  I felt glad not ashamed to have them. As the bra cups
surrounded my breasts they comforted me, they felt right. My
titties filled the cups. Wendy hooked the back of the bra into
place and turned me around.  Wendy looked at me with a
professional eye, "Michelle, I'm surprised myself, but the fit
seems just right. Without any help from padding you fill out to a
38B! With this padded bra on you look like a C cup."  I was
surprised too.  Looking down I saw that my bra not only
surrounded my breasts but perfectly supported them and pushed
them up forming a deliciously feminine cleavage. I felt my whole
body tingle as I looked down. I felt my breasts wearing what they
were made for. I felt proud of the way they looked.

I didn't have time to ponder my womanly proportions, Wendy now
produced a pair of light brown tinted hose and told me to slip
them on, as I pulled them on they encased my legs in the most
deliciously soft material that I had ever felt.  My legs were
always without question more like my mother's then my father's.
Wendy snapped the clasps closed on the garter belt, straightening
out the nylons. 

Then she pulled out a long flowing sundress, "Michelle, I think
that this dress will look beautiful on you on a warm summer
evening and the top will make the most of you fabulous figure". 
She was right, the dress was utterly feminine, with a purple
floral print on a white background.  The long flowing skirt
rested lightly on my legs and the daringly low neckline exposed
my new cleavage in a most provocative way. Wendy told me to spin
around a few times and say, "I'm Michelle, I'm a woman, I'm
Michelle, I'm a woman."

At last came the wig, a womanly crowning glory.  It was long
lightly curled style, that cascaded down my back and over my
shoulders. It felt delicious.  Wendy spent some time with a comb
brushing it out and styling it.  It began to feel like it was my
own hair.  From the reaction on her face, I could tell she was
excited. She finished me off by having me step into a pair of 3"
pumps. I was surprised how naturally I was able to walk in them.

At last Wendy walked me to a full length mirror, I couldn't
believe what I was seeing-  an ultra feminine woman, who was
definitely all woman from her high heels to her long tresses
flowing over a full curvaceous pair of breasts.  The face alone
would make a man cum in his pants wanting to feel those pouting
lips around his cock. But the breasts were sensual beyond
compare. Any man would love to be with a woman who looked like
this, to let his hand slip under the blouse, to slide in under
the pretty pink bra and expose the woman-flesh underneath.

That evening Wendy and I went out to a movie then to a disco,
where I danced almost every dance with a group of admiring men. 
I enjoyed the feeling of my dress spinning, my hair tumbling down
my back and over my shoulders, and most of all I loved the
feeling of my breasts bouncing sensuously for all to see and
admire. And for some to feel, and for some special friends to
suck on. In the weeks and months that followed Wendy taught me
more and more of the joys of the feminine roll, how to be all
woman.  I've lost a few pounds and my hair has grown. I no longer
need the wig, my own silky hair, now bleached blonde and frosted
in a most flattering, feminine way falls over my shoulders.
Wendy of course cuts it and styles it for me, we are having the
time of our lives, and share many special secrets.

That was the beginning of what would be for me a new life, a life
that included what was, and opened new possibilities.

--
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