When Steven returned from his week as a Catholic schoolgirl on Friday his mother smiled at him. âIâm sure you must be dying to get out of that uniform dear. Iâve laid out some clothes on your bed.â He just nodded his thanks and made for the stairs. He made himself walk as he had been coached all week and carefully climbed the stairs clutching his pleated skirts.
He went into his room and let out a little scream. It had been redecorated in pink and white wallpaper, pink drapes and matching bed linen. There was even a fluffy pink pale carpet. There were three frilly dresses laid out on the bed in various pastel colours. Matching tights and stockings were draped over the bed frame. The only thing he recognized as unchanged were the white wardrobes and chest of drawers.
He rushed over to the wardrobe and opened it. It was full of dresses and blouses and skirts. He let out another little yelp. He pushed back the dresses and searched desperately for any trousers or shirts that might have been pushed to the back or the sides but there were none. He looked down to see a row of brightly coloured girlsâ shoes.
He rushed over to the chest of drawers. In the top drawer, instead of his boxers and rolled up socks, he saw a dozen pairs of lace-trimmed panties in every pastel colour. There were stockings with bows and lace attached. He slammed that shut only to find the second drawer full of bras and tights. The bottom drawer contain lots more frilly things that he couldnât identify but were actually camisoles, vests, slips, half-slips and suspender belts. There clearly wasnât a scrap of boyâs clothing left anywhere. âMum please no!â But it was obviously too late for that.
The next morning she brought him out in a yellow dress, white tights and yellow high heels. He scampered along behind her finding it difficult to keep up even given his high-heel training. âIâm due at the hairdresserâsâ she told him. He flounced in the door after her, eager not to be left out on the street.
He was told to sit in a seat while his mother had a chat with the beautician. He wondered what hair style she was going for next â she kept changing it. They returned after their conversation and stood behind him. âSo Iâll come back again around lunchtime?â his mother asked the beautician. âYes we should be done by thenâ, she replied throwing a white cape over Steven and turning him towards the mirror.
His mother hurried off as he realized that the beautician was about to work on him! His mother was gone before he could protest and the beautician immediately tilted the chair back and swung his head over the sink removing his blond wig. She washed his hair and told him she was going to give him a page boy cut. He didnât resist anymore, misunderstanding what a page boy cut was until she turned him to the mirror and he saw his cute bangs and daintily curved hair.
He then had his eyebrows plucked into a cute curve. She impatiently dismissed his little cries of pain. Then she worked on his nails. âYou are lucky that your school allows nail varnish provided it is not colouredâ, she told him painting on the varnish. He didnât feel lucky.
When that was done, he was studying his varnished nails and didnât pay much attention as she rubbed something cold on his ear lobes. It was only one of many strange things she had done as far as he was concerned. But he was quite puzzled when she stood beside him holding something that looked like a gun. She held his ear lobe and moved the gun towards it and pulled the trigger. He felt a little pinch and when she took the gun away he had a shiny stud earing! He was appalled. But she pierced his other ear before he could react.
He wanted to cry as he looked at his pretty shiny studs and his pierced ears. He felt that he was now permanently marked as a girl â though of course that was not quite the case but he was certainly stuck with the pierced ears for now. âNow donât take those out for a few months until the piercing is permanentâ, she told him. He knew his mother would never let him take them out.
His mother was delighted when she returned and saw his page-boy cut, cute eyebrows, nails and especially his pierced ears. Stephen looked crestfallen but had little choice but to follow her out of the shop. They went for lunch.
She sensed that the ear piercing had made him feel that it was all a fait accompli now. He seemed to accept that he was trapped into being a girl. She decided to press home her advantage.
She took him shopping in an old-fashioned department store where they would get personal attention. With the shop assistant looking on, she brought Stephen over to a selection of packs of lacey panties and told him to choose his favourites. He had little choice but to make a selection or the assistant would wonder what was wrong.
Then his mother made him choose from a selection of patterned white tights. He cringed as he tried to decide which looked the least sissy but really it made little difference. âYes those are pretty patterns, good choice!â
âNow which dress would you like to try onâ, she asked him gesturing to the racks of pretty dresses. The assistant awaited his decision. He chose a lilac dress â it was the nearest colour available to anything blue. âThat is prettyâ, his mother rubbed it in. He had to try the dress on. âYes that will go nicely with the tights you choseâ, she confirmed and watched him cringe.
As he got ready for bed that evening his mother hung his lilac dress on the back of the door, tugging at the layers of frills. âNow tomorrow for church you can dress entirely in clothes that you chose yourself!â she told him, taking his patterned tights from a pack and draping them over the end of his bed. She laid a pair of his pretty panties on a chair where he could see them and anticipate wearing them in front of the whole town at church.