Date: Sat, 20 Nov 1999 19:54:49 -0500 (EST)
From: ladyindenim@email.com
Subject: Mother Please...

Mother Please...
by Ilean Anne Jerque

	Jules Beverly Bavier stood looking at himself in the mirror.  He
hated this.  He knew he should have said something earlier but he never
did.  It was just that Mother was so strong willed, so insistent at times
that he just had to do what she said, even if it meant that he would be
standing here, like now, in an attractive dress, with his face and nails
femininely painted, his legs clean, smooth, and exposed in nylons, and his
hair soft and flowing down to the bosom that was so obvious in the clinging
dress.
	"Julie," Mother called from the other room, "Are you ready yet.
The photographer is ready."
	Jules shrugged at his reflection, smiled his best, female smile,
and rounded the corner onto the shoot area.  Ever since he was a small
child, his mother had dressed him as a girl and had him modeling dresses in
some catalogue or another.  This was easy since she owned a modeling agency
and since Jules was "blessed" with very feminine face, skin, and hair.
Most of the people that worked in the agency knew of the deception but, as
has been said, Mother was very strong willed and no one dared say anything
openly.
	The shoot took all day and required several changes.  Jules cringed
to think that at least one or two of these dresses, if not all, would be in
his closet tomorrow and that next weekend, shoot or no, he would be in some
city, in some restaurant, in one of these dresses.
	As the shoot ended, Mother was in the dressing room collecting some
of the girl's wear, "Julie, quickly get out of that and wear the pretty
flowered number with the white lace collar.  It really does show off your
sweet face.  And wear heels also, they make our legs look so shapely."
	Jules did as instructed and Mother gathered up clothes from all
around.  As he finished, Mother appeared to inspect him: "Now what is wrong
with that dress."  She paused to inspect her son, "Julie, you really must
wear a bra and forms.  Girls you age have breasts and you must, also.  Now
put your forms in, touch up your lipstick, and wear some nice perfume,
we'll be having company this evening."
	A shiver ran up Jules' spine.  It was one thing to have to dress up
as a girl, but lately, when Mother entertained, she would have her son sit
on a man's lap as "a beautiful, young model should for her employer."  The
last couple of "employers" had jostled him up and down enough that he knew
that they had come.  At fifteen, no matter how sheltered and controlled
one's life has been, one has some idea of what the basics of sex are.
	Tonight proved to be a bit different.  All through dinner, James
van Alt took unusually long glances at the feminine boy.  After dinner,
James asked if Julie would mind dancing with him.  Jules opened his eyes
wide at his mother but she accepted for him anyway: "Why, I think that
Julie would enjoy that.  She has had some instruction in the art."
	That wasn't a lie, either.  For the last two years, every Wednesday
evening, Julie had been enrolled in ballroom dance classes.  In fact,
dancing in heels had become quite second nature to him.  James van Alt
apparently hadn't had instruction, or didn't use what he had once learned,
because instead of holding Julie around the waist and carrying the girl's
hand in his, the animal held Julie by both cheeks and openly rubbed his
erection into Julie's belly, as he gyrated into orgasm.  Jules felt dirtier
than he ever had before.  After kissing the "gentleman" good-bye lightly on
the lips, he rushed upstairs to take a shower.
	Stripping quickly, he started the water and gathered his shoulder
blade length hair up into a shower cap; it was Saturday and Mother was
going to take him out for dinner tomorrow and he really didn't want her to
set his hair because it was wet.  In the warm water, he washed the colors
from his face and the flowery scent from his neck and wrists.
	"Jules," Mother spoke from in the room, "I have a special outfit in
mind for you tomorrow so don't take off your nail polish.  And don't forget
that you have to get your shot tonight."
	Again a shiver ran up Jules' spine.  These shots that Mother had
been giving him for the last two months were female hormones, Mother made
no effort to lie about that.  It seems that Jules was "just getting to be
too much a boy" and that he would need to take the hormones for a while to
keep him in a girlish figure.  But that didn't seem to be all they were
doing, he noted that his skin was becoming very soft and white, and that
his penis was clearly shrinking even though it had never been big.  After
drying himself, he slid into his pink satin PJs.  Mother chose that moment
to come into the room with the shot.  She handed the syringe to her son and
instructed him to inject himself as he had been shown.  Jules wanted to
resist but pulled down his pants and wiped a spot of his rear clean as he
knew to do.  He hesitated, knowing that the shot was forcing femininity
upon his body.  And then there was the shock, the cattle prod, aimed
directly, viciously at his scrotum.  It nearl!  y knocked him over and the
pain brought tears to his eyes.
	"Jules," Mother said as if she really was tortured herself, "You
must take your shot and not dally.  Now, inject yourself."
	Still aching, the boy lined up the needle to his skin and shoved it
in.  Slowly he pushed down the plunger, sending the chemical instructions
of femaleness into his body.  After recleaning the site, Mother collected
the syringe, and hugged her son, saying, "This will be for the best, Jules.
Soon you will have beautiful breasts and then you won't have to wear that
bra if you don't want to.  Now sleep tight my sweet."
	Jules crawled into bed.  A small tear slipped from his eye as he
fell asleep.


	Mother called from her room, "Jules, are you dressed yet?"
	Jules stood looking at himself as he had so many times before,
"Mother, if I have to wear this, can I at least wear some long pants?"
	"Why, no," Mother appeared at the door, "You are always complaining
because you have to wear dresses and then when I provide a boy's outfit for
you, you complain about that."
	Jules looked at the modified Little Lord Fantelroy outfit.  It was
baby blue in color, with a heavily ruffled, white blouse with extended
ruffle cuffs.  The shorts had no belt or zipper, but had to be buttoned up
both sides with several large white buttons.  The shoes were clearly girls'
strap over slippers worn with thin, white cotton socks that stood out well
against his smooth legs.
	Mother entered the room and began to brush his hair.  After ten
minutes his rich, brown hair glistened in the sunlight.  Mother then pulled
the hair behind each ear and held it in place with a single hairpin on each
side, allowing the length to cascade down his back.  She then plucked a few
stray hairs from his brows, ensuring that they were thin and clearly
feminine, and slid two diamond studs into the peircings of each ear lobe.
A very light touch of red tinted lip balm finished the very gay looking
boy.  "Let me see your nails," Mother demanded.  The french manicure from
the day before was still perfection on each long nail.
	"There," Mother said with satisfaction, "we'll be lunching with
Mrs. Brighton and her daughter, Sally, today, and I wanted you to wear
something special for them."  Jules heart sank.  Mrs. Brighton was some old
lesbian that had a daughter that could only be described as a bully or
thug.  He had had one incident with her before, the mother and daughter had
come to a shoot and Mother had introduced Jules as her son.  Mother had
asked Jules to show Sally around backstage, and when the opportunity arose,
Sally, who had teased Jules unendingly when out of the parent's earshot,
pushed the skirted lad against a wall and racked him terribly.  Laughing at
the boy's pain, she said, "Well, well, I guess there is something male
about you."  She chuckled all the way back to her mother leaving Jules in
pain for hours.
	"Mother," Jules tried to plead with her, "this looks so silly.
Could I wear a dress instead?"
	She looked at him with a smirk, "You want to wear dresses now after
all the times you've asked me to let you wear boy's clothes?  I think you
are a spoiled brat!  You'll wear what you have on and I will hear no more
about it.  You will have plenty of opportunity to wear dresses later when
your breasts come in."

	The lunch was agonizing.  Heads turned and fingers pointed at the
faggoty boy, and snickers and muffled laughter could be heard following
close behind him.  Sally made "nelly" faces and gestures at him whenever
the parents were otherwise occupied.  Soon the urge of nature enveloped
Jules and he had to travel to the restroom.  He walked with his head down,
barely looking at where he was going, unaware that Sally was hot on his
heels.
	Entering the little hallway that contained the doorways to the
restrooms, Jules turned toward the men's room.  Suddenly his head was
jerked back by a solid grip on his hair.  Off balance, he was drug
backwards into the women's room by Sally.  "In here, girly boy," Sally
demanded, "you'll need to do your peeing in this room."  She puled him to
the stalls and then returned to lock the door.  Jules stood in fear as the
bully spoke to him again, "Go on and pee, wimp.  And when you're through, I
have a surprise for you.  Something that I borrowed from my mother.  I'm
sure you'll really enjoy it."
	There was no denying the urge, so Jules entered the stall and
dropped his pants and the silly jockeys that he was forced to wear.  He
stood and released his bladder, then bent to retrieve the shorts from his
ankles.  With a painful jerk, Sally again had a hold of his hair.  She
turned his head back over his shoulder so that he could view her.  Having
slipped out of her dress, she stood behind him wearing only her bra.  From
her pussy extended a double sided dildo, the end near Jules' butt
glistening with lubricant.  "You like?" the bitch giggled.
	Jules tried to struggle but she grabbed his hair hard and reached
between his legs and grabbed his balls.  Pain jolted up his spine and
reverberated in his head.  "This," the bully said as she lined up the dildo
with his butt hole, "is what every prissy boy like you needs.  I only wish
it were real so that I could cum in your ass.  Now relax so I don't rip you
open."
	Horrified at what was about to happen to him, Jules didn't even
have time to tense up before the dildo slammed into his insides.  The bitch
was strong.  It only took a couple of strokes before the dildo's balls were
pressed against his own.  Nearly passing out, he went limp and the girl
began to pump the plastic phallus in and out of him.  "You like it don't
you, girly boy?" she demanded.
	Jules only whimpered.  He couldn't believe how she was holding the
thing inside herself and able to stroke it inside him.  He hurt but fought
back the tears, not allowing the bitch the full pleasure of her raping him.
The torture went on for several minutes until Sally finally came.  When
finished, she released the dildo from herself, leaving it planted in Jules'
rear.  "Turn around," she demanded of him.  He couldn't comply immediately,
so Sally made her point more clearly with a hard shot into his right
kidney, "Now!"
	Jules had to right himself some to turn in the confines of the
stall and the dildo pressed hard against the back of his gut.  "Lick me
clean," the bully bitch demanded.
	Jules mustered his strength, "You're not going to get away with
this, bitch."  Grabbing Jules' ears, Sally kicked him in the balls and
pulled his mouth down to her slick pussy, "Lick it clean or I'll kick your
balls up to your throat."
	He knew that she hadn't kicked as hard as she could have and he
also knew that she would kick him harder if further provoked.  He licked.
	When he finished, Sally demanded: "Now get that thing out of you
and wash it off."  He did as instructed, going to the sink and cleansing
the plastic with hand soap and water.  When he turned around, Sally was
again dressed.  She took the instrument of rape from him and slid it under
the backside of her dress, where it magically disappeared and stayed
despite gravity.  Patting Jules' head, she said, "Hurry up, pussy.  Our
parents will be wondering what is taking us so long.  I'll tell them that
there was a line and if you say anything about what happened here, I'll
search you out and cut that tiny prick off you with a butcher knife."  Her
face was pressed eye to eye with Jules' as she finished speaking.  She
accentuated her threat with a flick of the tip of Jules' prick.  Quickly
she turned and left, leaving the boy standing before the sink, his shorts
and power blue jockeys around his ankles, and KY slithering down his legs
and balls.  Though he still hurt inside, Jules quickly cleaned himself,
dressed, and returned to the table, each step sending stinging pain from
his aching butthole to deep inside his belly.  Mother was gone from the
table.
	Mrs. Brighton said as he returned, "Your mother has gone to take
care of the check.  You both took so long, did you and Sally get to know
each other better?"  Jules was shocked as he read the knowing smirk on the
fat lesbian's face.
	Mother returned, "Well that's done.  Jules, dear, your hair is all
mussed.  Here," she fished a brush from her purse, "we'll fix your hair
when we get outside."
	They exited and the lesbians got into their car.  Mother stood
Jules outside their car and brushed his hair in full view of the audience
behind the restaurant windows.  "You were very long in the restroom.  Sally
didn't rough you up did she?  You are a boy, after all, you shouldn't allow
girls to be mean to you.  I would be so ashamed of you if that were to
happen."
	Jules' memory of Sally's hot, garlic breath pushing into his
nostrils coupled with Mother's declaration brought only submission from the
weakened boy, "It was nothing I couldn't handle, Mother."



	Eighteen months had gone by and the weekly estrogen injections had
been supplemented with small dosages of human growth hormone.  The
resultant effect was to increase his height to five feet six inches, but
more, to dramatically pull the seventeen year old boy's body into
femininity.  His skin had become powdery white and exceedingly silky to the
touch.  Seeming to thicken more, his deep brown hair glistened brightly
around a fair, hairless face who's cheeks and lips were fuller than before,
who's nose was daintily chiseled, and who's eyes had become clearly those
of a young woman's.  Twenty pounds heavier, his waist now measured two
whole inches less than before but his hips had gained four.  The boy's full
thighs and rounded rump flowed long into finely curved legs, graceful
knees, perfect calves, delicate ankles, and into feet that hadn't gained a
shoe size in over a year.  Broad but thin, shallow shoulders sat atop a
flat back, and smooth arms extended into small hands wi!  th tapered
fingers that still sported his "trademark" half inch french manicure.
Inside the sheer bra that clung to his ribs, his breasts filled the C cups
fully, his deep pink nipples, the areola now wider than half dollars and
nearly an inch deep, stuck out in strong definition as the tips extended
outward half an inch and half an inch thick.  Nightly suction from a device
Mother made him use had forced the desired dimensions into existence.  The
narrowness of his ribs accentuated the flatness of his sternum and the
slight roundness of his lower belly as it rested between his fattened,
enlarged pelvis.  Satiny skin graced this area, and flowed to a barely
visible, thin patch of short pubic hair surrounding an almost flat, deep
pink, and mid-parted scrotum.  Above this, the tiny tip of his penis peeked
out of it's uncircumcised sheath, which flowed into the sides of the
reduced scrotum, nearly parted beneath to almost join the clearly defined
line that threatened to separate!
 the sack into vagina lips.
	Mother stood examining her son, "Yes, perhaps the estrogen dose was
too strong.  I hadn't expected you to loose the use of your penis
altogether.  After all, I only wanted to ensure your career as a model, not
to prevent you from ever fathering a child."
	Jules slumped into a chair, "Mother, we've been here before.  I
showed you how small my dick was getting and you said that you would
decrease the dosage then!  It has been clear that you have wanted me to be
a girl from the start."
	Mother shot back, "That's not true.  When have I ever denied that
you were a boy?"
	Jules tried to remember any such incident but couldn't.  He could
recall some incidents, "There were many times that you failed to tell
people that I am a boy."
	Mother took a deep breath, "It was better for you that they didn't
know.  You have a career to protect, you know."
	Flabbergasted, Jules retorted, "Career!  Mother I model women's'
fashions and lingerie.  That isn't a career for a boy much less a man.
What were you trying to protect?"
	Mother tried to answer, "You were just too pretty to not be a model
and you looked like a girl.  It was what I had to do despite your defiance
and unacceptance of your gift."
	Jules eyes widened, "Mother, you have turned me into a girl!"
Lurching up from the chair, he lifted his breasts almost into her face,
"These belong to a woman, this skin belongs to a woman, this entire body is
a woman's, not a man's."
	Mother's face shot angry and the cattle prod appeared in her hand
like magic.  Shoving the electrodes into the boy's stomach, she mashed the
button, and curled the boy over in muscle spasms.  He fell to the floor,
unable to breathe.  "You insolent child," she crossed to his dresser,
removed a syringe and the bottle of estrogen, and filled the device past
the markers.  "You think that I want you to be a girl?  Well, young man,
I'll show you what being a man is all about."
	Putting her foot on the boy's back, she shoved him to the floor and
then sat on him, crushing his full breasts against the carpet.  Placing the
prod against his temple, she mashed the button again, knocking Jules out.
Rolling him over, she felt the boy's scrotum, kneading for a testicle.
Finding the tiny gland, she shoved the needle through the sack and forced
the comparatively huge amount of fluid into diminutive ball.  Swollen to
almost normal proportions, she repeated the procedure on the other gland..
Then, pushing the boy's foreskin back to expose as much of his tiny male
organ as possible, she began injecting the entire contents of the bottle
into the member until his penis was also swollen, though not nearly normal
in size, and appeared to be erect, even if a bit puffy.

	Jules was out for nearly an hour but he never knew.  Coming to, his
head felt as if it had exploded.  Despite his spinning vision, he gradually
focused on his mother.  Trying to speak, he had trouble with the left side
of his face, "What did you do to me?" came forth in barely discernable
words.
	Mother sat on the edge of the bed, "I given you what you
want...sort of.  Feel your manhood."
	He hadn't realized it because of the pain in his head but there was
also quite a bit of pain in his groin, also.  A simple touch of his dick
made him aware of it.  "Jesus!" he called in pain, "What did you do to me."
	Mother was cold, "The pain will go away soon.  You have a dick.
It's even erect, sort of.  Feel it.  Does it make you happy?"
	Touching it gently, Jules felt around the shape of his injected
organ, "How did you do this."
	She told him.


	By the next morning, Jules' head no longer hurt but he had began to
bleed from his penis and the pain was unbearable.  Mother, reluctantly,
took him to the hospital.
	After the examination, the doctor told Mother his findings, "He
told me that he's been injecting himself with female hormones for two
years.  You obviously know this.  And he also told me that he injected
himself in the testicles so that he could see what he would look like with
a male penis again.  I seriously doubt that he could have withstood such
pain.  I challenged him on this point but he was adamant.  I think you did
this.  If he would collaborate my suspicions, I would have the police in
here to haul you away for child cruelty.  None the less, I will make a
report.  I've given him an injection for the pain and a sedative.  He'll
sleep through the night.  The bleeding is from a ruptured testicle.  It's
stopped now but I think he'll lose that one.  I'm not sure he will have
function in the other.  He is probably sterile."



	Two years has passed since Jules had moved away from his mother.
He is married.  Crawling from his bed, he discovered that he had fallen
asleep last night without releasing the pressure in his implant.  Pressing
against an imbedded valve near his pelvis, his six inch erection slowly
subsided into a flaccid, two inch penis that rolled around on the flatness
of his groin.
	Fluffing his shoulder length mass of waves, he shot a pump of
revitalizing lotion into his palm and then smoothed it onto his flawless
female's face.  Calling to his wife, "Sweetheart, you need to get up.  We
have a shoot today."
	Carol's voice wafted in from the next room, "Yeah, I'm up.  What
are we shooting today, anyway?"
	"Wedding gowns," he replied, guiding his breasts into their cups.
	Carol giggled, "Wedding gowns!  I love to see you in wedding gowns.
Can we pump you up before we leave there tonight?"