I was an only child and had to be put in foster care until old enough to be left alone until my mom got home from work. There were three other boy boarders and a daughter of the foster parents. She was about a year older than me. Over the early years, I became fascinated and curious as to how it would feel to be a girl, plus I was attracted to her beautiful, colorful dresses. I especially loved the way the skirts would sway when she walked and wondered what it would feel like to wear a pretty dress too. Then one night, after everyone had gone to bed, I snuck down stairs and retrieved one of the daughter’s dresses from a back room. Quickly removing my pajamas, I slipped the dress over my head and pulled it down into place. It was magical, as the dress not only fit me, but I felt I fit the dress.
Suddenly, the lights came on, and there stood the mother at the doorway looking at me with anger in her eye. “What do you think you’re doing in that dress?”, she asked in a threatening tone.

I was immediately terrified, as I stuttered, " I just wanted to see what it felt like." 

Without hesitation, she came over and started to lift the dress over my head, while scolding me for sneaking around when I should be in bed. I was shaking now, as I reached over to reclaim my pajamas. “Leave those there!”, she snapped as she grabbed my arm and pulled me to the doorway. “You wanted to see what it feels like to be a girl and that is just what’s going to happen.”

Dragging me back upstairs in just my underpants, she stopped me in front of her daughter’s room and told me to wait. I was really scared now, not knowing what she was going to do. A few minutes later, she returned and held out one of her daughter’s night gowns. Handing it to me, she demanded I put it on while saying this is what girls wear to bed, not a dress. When I just stood frozen, she grabbed the gown and slipped it over my head and let it fall into place. I was crying now as I felt so humiliated and ashamed of wearing a girl's frilly night gown. I can still remember her chuckling while telling me what a pretty little girl I made.
Again grabbing my arm, she led me back to my room where the other boys were still asleep. I pleaded for her to stop as she shoved me into the room and woke the others. “I want you all to meet our new boarder,” she announced, as the boys rubbed their eyes and stared in disbelief. I started to bawl now as she introduced me as Nancy and said I would be visiting for a while. She then ordered me into bed and told the others to go back to sleep, saying they’d have plenty of time to get acquainted in the morning. I can’t begin to tell you how terrified I felt as I pulled my covers up to hide my sissy condition. She then told me I was to remain in bed in the morning until she came to let me up. Turning out the lights, she left me dizzy with uncertainty at my upcoming fate.
As promised, she came and woke everyone for breakfast. After sending them down stairs, she told me to wait for her return. I sat at the edge of my bed trying to think of what doom would befall me next. My question was answered the moment she returned and I saw a complete outfit of her daughter’s clothes draped across her arms. Ordering me to stand up, she placed the clothes on my bed and told me to remove my gown. I burst into tears as I pleaded forgiveness with promises I’d never try her daughter’s clothes on again. “Oh! I think you will, and we can start right now.” Handing me a pair of panties, she told me to change into them or I’d get the spanking of my life. Tearfully, I did as told as I removed my underwear and slipped the panties up my legs. Though they were plain cotton, the fact they were meant for a girl stirred tremendous feelings of shame as I pulled them into place. My heart began to race when I saw the next item she retrieved from the bed and held it out for me to put on. It was a very full, white petticoat slip adorned with satin ribbons around the hem. Grabbing her shoulder, I stepped into the opening while she pulled it up to my waist.
My head was spinning wildly now as I watched the next item held out for my acceptance. It was the most beautiful, ruffled dress I’d ever seen. It was totally feminine with lace trimmed sleeves and skirt, not to mention the satin ribbon waist sash. The material was some sort of chiffon with small pink roses printed all around the full skirt. They started small at the waist and became larger as they descended to the hemline. I think it was one of her daughter’s party dresses and looked like it was meant for a much younger girl. Once in place, I couldn’t see my feet from the billowing petticoats and dress, and really felt strange. Having me sit on the edge of the bed, she slipped some socks on my feet and told me I’d have to wear my own shoes as she didn’t have any girl’s shoes that would fit. Just hearing her say girl’s shoes stirred a strange sensation through me as I stared at the skirt bunched up around my legs.
I was led down the hall and into her daughter’s room where she took a satin ribbon and after a bit of combing, fastened it in my hair. “There! Now you look like a proper young lady.” I again started to cry to have my own clothes back but she just reminded me, “You said you wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl. Now you will get your chance.” Taking my hand, she led me to the stairs while telling me how pretty I looked. “Won’t the others be surprised to see how cute you look”, she giggled, showing her own pleasure at my demise. The moment we entered the kitchen, the boys and her daughter burst into laughter. I just stood frozen and cried out of control. Having me sit down for breakfast, she explained what happen the night before and that this was just to give me my wish.
Everyone eventually settled down as I struggled to eat, being so emotionally upset. As soon as everyone finished, the foster mother ordered them outside to play. I looked up at her with pleading eyes as she said, “You too! And be careful not get your pretty dress dirty.”

I was horrified that she was carrying this so far, pleading to stay inside. “You wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl and so you shall. Now get yourself up and join the others until lunch time.” I was really shaking as she directed me to the back door and pushed me onto the back porch. My heart sank as I heard the door close behind me and heard the click of the lock. I was the center of attention the whole morning, with the older boys constantly flipping my skirts, wanting to see if I was wearing panties. My large petticoats helped keep their prying eyes from furthering my shame as I constantly pushed them down, surprised at how vulnerable girls' clothes were and the effort it took to keep modest.

By lunch, the novelty was wearing off and the boys had settled down. Though I still felt embarrassed being in a dress, I was also beginning to enjoy the feeling of the flouncy, soft fabrics against my legs. Secretly, I was fascinated with the way the skirt would bounce when I walked though I could never let anyone know. Lunch gratefully went without much teasing and afterwards I again pleaded to stay inside. To my surprise, she said, “Very well. Then you can help me clear the table and with washing the dishes.” I didn’t mind, as anything was better than being tormented by the other kids. I was beginning to actually feel like a girl in a strange sort of way and kind of liked it. When at the sink, she tied an apron on me, while telling me it was to protect my dress. Hearing her say ‘to protect MY DRESS”, stirred very strange sensations in me, as though I’d actually become a real girl.
After the chores were done, I went into the living room and sat down to gather my thoughts. It wasn’t very long when her daughter came in and sat beside me. I wanted to be left alone but had no where to go as I tried to ignore her. “How do you like wearing a dress?” she asked in a non aggressive tone.

“It’s O.K.,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

“You look really pretty in it,” she responded, as I began to feel uneasy. “Want to come to my room to play? I have lots of games we can play.”

As awkward as I felt, I thought it might be better than just sitting, bored. “I-I-I guess,” I said nervously, though also fascinated at the prospect of playing as though a real girl. As we climbed the stairs, I had trouble with the full skirts and she showed me how to gather them up. It was like a fantasy dream as we entered her room and I looked around. The room was truly all girl, with dolls, stuffed animals, etc. everywhere. Showing me a small table and chairs, I sat down while she retrieved a ‘Sorry' game.

We played several games all afternoon and it wasn’t very long before I felt as though I had actually been turned into a girl. I LOVED IT! That is until I needed to use the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do with so much skirt in the way. I told her my plight and she described how I was to handle the skirts to sit down. Of course she couldn’t go in there with me so I struggled a bit before managing to finish. I never realized how cumbersome a girl’s skirts an be. I stayed in her room all afternoon until we heard her mother call us for dinner. Again, she showed me how to handle my skirts as we descended the stairs. The boys couldn’t help notice how friendly ‘WE GIRLS’ had become and giggled all through dinner. After the table was cleared, the mother ordered me upstairs with her close behind. “Well, how did you like being a girl for the day?” she asked.

I was nervously fearing she would keep me like this again tomorrow as I told her I didn’t like it.

"Do you think you will want to try on a dress again?” I began to shake again as I firmly said, “NO!” “Very well then. Lets get you undressed and back into your own clothes. But if I ever catch you trying on girls' clothes again, I’ll see to it you remain dressed as a girl for good. Do you understand?” Her words terrified me as I nodded I understood.

I never tried on a dress again while at that boarding house, though I often dreamt of that very special day and wished I could. It was several years later, when I was alone, before I again felt the wonderful sensations of a flowing skirt about my legs. I knew then that I will always harbor a part of me as that little girl I experienced that magical day. I sometimes wonder if these feelings would have become such a part of me if that woman hadn’t giving me a chance to see what it would be like to have been a girl. Thank you, foster mother. Thanks for the memories and a life wrapped in soft, heavenly dresses.


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