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From: "D. L. Johnson" <dljohnson@cnwl.igs.net>
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Subject: Cyber Girl
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Cyber Chick

Penned by: Miss Deborah Leigh Johnson


One



When I was fifteen years old, I was delighted to receive a computer
for Christmas. We were not a well off family, so when I opened the
boxes and saw what my parents had gotten me, I appreciated the great
sacrifice that it had taken for them to be able to put enough away to
get me this kind of present.

They had always let me know that they thought that I was the brightest
kid in the family, the last in the line of five kids. I had two older
brothers, and two sisters who were also older than I was. My next in
age was Mary, and she was one year older than I was. Both my sisters
are great looking girls, and are very popular with the guys in school.
Janet is in her last year. Both of my brothers are out on their own
now, and the oldest one is seriously considering getting married next
summer.

So, as Janet has a well developed social life, she is only home, it
seems, to sleep and change her clothes. We have sort of gotten used to
not seeing her around very much. My parents also have a pretty active
social life, so in actual fact, I am left alone most of the time. I
see Mary once in a while, but we kids are old enough now that our
parents leave us alone a lot.

So, the computer was a god send, as far as I was concerned. I spent a
lot of my spare time studying, because after raising four kids before
me, my parents do not have the money to send me through college, so I
will need to count on a scholarship, which I am pretty sure that I can
get, because my grades are very good.


I am totally unlike my brothers though. They are stereo typical jock
types, I am sure that you know what I mean. I am not. Though I am over
fifteen, going on sixteen, I still have not started to even shave yet.
I am only 5' 3 3/4" tall, and I weight 123 lbs. Added to that, like
all the other guys in my classes at school, I wear my hair long. The
problem is that if I want to wear it long, my mom makes me wash and
condition it every day, so with my soft skin, large blue eyes and
beautiful hair, I look more like a girl than a guy.

I have often had guys driving by me on the street, no knowing who I
was, honking at me and trying to get me to go for a ride with them. I
guess that even in my scruffy school clothes, I look more like a girl
than like a guy, even though I do try hard to act like a guy. 

I have always thought that I was acting, when I tried to act like a
guy, but I would carefully watch all the other guys my age, and I
would try hard to act like that. Because I was so small, the last
thing in the world that I needed was to have to fight all the time,
because of being accused of being a fairy. So, I got along all right
with everyone, because I had learned how to act like a guy.

I did not think that I feel like a regular guy, to be entirely honest.
By that, I mean that I do not identify with the kinds of things that
other guys seem to identify with. I am not a guy that goes crazy every
time I get challenged. I also do not like the feel of physical strain,
like most guys seem to like doing. I see the other guys go wrangy over
a good looking chick on the street, and I wonder what it is that makes
them feel that way. I can talk like they do, and I can act like they
do, but I really do not know what it is in their nature that drives
them to act like that.

So, I usually enjoy spending a lot of time all alone, with my books,
my hobbies and my own thoughts. the result is that I get really good
grades, so I am pretty sure that I am going to be offered scholarships
so that I can go on to college. I do not know what it is that I would
like to study. I just know that I do not want to have to work at
physical  work, the way my father and my brothers have to do. I will
never understand it, but they seem to really like it though.

I would never like it. When I am all alone, I am willing to admit to
myself that I am probably enough of a sissy that I would never be able
to accept that kind of life style. I will need to find something where
I can sit behind a desk all day, to earn a living, like a legal
secretary or something. Maybe I could study business, and get paid for
doing that kind of work?

So, it was with the bliss and ignorance of youth that I spend quite a
few weeks setting up my computer, and starting to learn how to use it.
This is not a light task. There is a word processor program, a spread
sheet program, a data base program, a presentation program, a
graphical program that works with a scanner, not to mention a myriad
of games. 

And after I had gotten some kind of grasp on how to get around in
those programs, I turned my attention to another program that came
with the computer. I was able to blissfully occupy many many hours for
a number of long weeks.

I learned that there was also a one year subscription to an internet
service. Once I had gotten used to moving around in all of the other
programs, I turned my attentions to exploring the internet.


Two

I was fascinated as I learned my way around the local server, and then
learned about search engines to find out the kinds of things that were
not available through my school library. This was a whole new world
for me, and I was avid to learn all that I could.

After a few weeks, I stumbled across a chat room.

This was a study in foolishness, I thought. It seemed that adults
would spend hours just making really stupid comments to each other. I
was amazed. I monitored the chat rooms, just to see what was
happening.

One night, I got a private message from someone called Bruce.

"Hi there. Want to talk a bit, in private?"

That was how it started. We became friends.

Bruce was a 28 year old man, a professional engineer by training. He
seemed to really listen to the ideas that I had, and he began to
gradually teach me, not to think like he thought, but how to analyse
what I thought, to see if I really did think those things.

After we had chatted with each other for a few weeks, he asked me if I
could send him a picture of myself. I quickly learned how to use the
scanner, and I sent a colour picture of myself. I hoped that he would
not think that I was a ginky kid when he saw it.

I got one back from him. He was tall, tall compared to me that is,
about 5' 9" and weighed about 180 lbs. He was not fat, but he was not
skinny either. He actually cut a nice looking figure. He had blond
shoulder length hair, and a bushy blond moustache. I liked the way
that he looked.

Then he really floored me.

"You look like a girl."

"Yeah, I know. I get teased about it a lot."

"If you were really a girl, you'd be really cute, you know that?"

"Really? Cute? Geeze, I never though of myself like that before."

"You know, I wish that I could see what you would look like wearing
girl's clothes. Have you ever tried wearing girl's clothes before?"

"No. I never even heard of a guy wearing girl's clothes before."

"Oh, it is very common. Guys that like to wear girl's clothes are
called transvestites. Trans refers to crossing over, and vestite
refers to clothing. Hence, guys who like to wear girl's clothes are
called transvestites."

"Wow... This is something entirely new to me."

"You think that you might like to try wearing girl's clothes? You look
cute enough, you know."

"Wow, this whole idea blows my mind."

"Well, I got an idea. Tonight, why don't you put on some of  Mary's
clothes, and take a picture of yourself. Then you can scan it, and let
me see what you would look like as a girl. I think that it would be
really neat, knowing that you look like a cute girl, but that you are
really a boy. Would you do that for me?"

"I... I guess? I could try it anyway, just promise me that you won't
laugh at me, okay Bruce?"

"I promise. I have to be away on a job for two weeks, so you have lots
of time to try out this experiment."

"Okay, by for now."

That was how things progressed. The more that I thought about Bruce's
words about how I could be a boy, and look like a cute girl, wearing
girl's clothes, the more the idea seemed to fascinate me. I decided
that I was going to do it. I was not going to do it just for Bruce. I
wanted to do it because I was becoming fascinated with what it must
feel like to be a girl.

So, I bided my time, and in about a week, an opportunity presented
itself. Mary was going to be spending a weekend at my aunt Martha's
place in the country, to help her with her spring cleaning or
something like that. My parents had decided that they needed a mini
vacation, so they were going to take a four day weekend, and go to a
city that was not too far away. I would be left all alone for nearly
three whole days.

I was terribly excited about the idea of being able tow ear girl's
clothes for three days. I could never explain what it was that made me
so excited, but I could hardly wait for Thursday night to roll around.
When it got there, I was finally, by six that evening, left all alone.

I had bought myself a few boxes of film for the instamatic camera. I
would be able to see myself, as a girl, a few minutes after taking a
picture of myself. It was expensive, but I just wanted to see myself
in girl's clothes. I knew that I would have no trouble fitting into
all of Janet's or Mary's clothes, because I was still smaller than
they were.

By seven, I had bee soaking in a bubble bath, and had dried myself
off. For the first time in my life, I walked into my sister's room,
totally naked. I stood there, amazed at how small and feminine I was
feeling. I felt like the girl's personalities of the girls who lived
in the room, was somehow overwhelming me. I felt like they were
actually there in the room with me, and teasing me about being such a
big sissy.

I actually found that I liked the way that it felt.

I walked over to the bureau. I noted that Mary had left the clothes
that she had worn at school that day, in a messy pile on the floor,
beside her bed. I decided that I wanted to know what she had felt like
all day long, wearing those clothes in the school, where all the guys
had admired her in them.

I felt so weak and so vulnerable, and so exposed, as I walked over to
her bed, and sat down on it. I knew that she had sat there, probably
in the same spot that morning, when she had put these very same
clothes on. I leaned over and picked up her nylon stockings. She had
not even detached the garter belt. She'd just unhooked the white lace
garment, and slid the stocking down her legs.

My hands shook slightly, as I picked up the garter belt. I could
hardly believe that I was really going to do this, and worse, it was
because a guy suggested that I do it. I felt so weak. I knew that what
I was doing, was what sissies did. If I went ahead and did this, I
would have to look at myself in the mirror every day for the rest of
my life, and know that I was looking at a sissy, a transvestite, a guy
who likes wearing girl's clothes. If my friends ever found out, I
would never be able to live this down.

I knew that no matter how hard I tried to think these kinds of
thoughts, that I was still going to dress up as a girl.

I had no excuses. I had no one to blame it on. I could never be able
to say that some one had made me do it. No, I was going to become a
sissy, and it was by my own hand. I should have felt shame, but I did
not. What I felt was a giddy kind of excitement, as though I knew that
I would be doing this thing over and over again.

I worked the delicate nylon material up my legs, then stood up and
snapped the garter belt at the small of my back. I could not believe
how sensuous it felt, as the nylons tightened over my nearly hairless
legs. Geeze, it was no wonder that girl's loved wearing these kinds of
things. If I had to wear things like this to school, I would have a
boner on all day long. It is a good thing that girl's can't get
boners. I  giggled as I thought of my pretty sister walking down the
school halls, with a big tent in the front of her skirt, from her
boner. I certainly had one. I could not believe that wearing her
nylons had made me so hot.

I debated about whether I should deal with it or not, but decided to
wait. I sat down again, and I bent over. The next item that was on the
pile was the panties that Mary had worn all day long. They were white,
and very silky smooth. I was surprised at how soft they felt. I could
detect the faint smell of my sister from them.

I slipped my feet through the leg holes, and very slowly pulled the
delicate garment up my legs. The softness of the silk, sliding over my
nyloned legs nearly drove me over the edge. This was the most
wonderful thing that I had ever felt in my life. I shivered in
delight.

Once I had released the panty waist, and I had to do a double take as
I thought about myself wearing a panty waist, I leaned over and picked
up the bra. Both of my sisters were not very big in the breast
department, but I knew that I would still need to pad out the cups a
bit. I slid the lacy white straps over my arms and up over my
shoulders. Like I had seen them do, I reached behind and did up the
catches.

I sat there, looking down at the lacy cups on my chest. The elastic
bands cupped my own flesh, so that I looked like I had my own girl's
breasts. I decided to not pad them out after all. My nipples were so
hard, as I thought about them nestling the same satin that had so
recently held my sister's breasts. I could not believe how erotic this
was turning out to be.

I knew that I must be seriously perverted to like these feelings so
much. What really concerned, and delighted me though, was that I was
beginning to get a sense of my own femininity, and this was terribly
exciting to me. I should not feel like I was turning into a girl, but
that feeling was there, and it was very strong. I loved the way the
feeling made me feel so dainty and feminine. Afterall, my sister in
whose clothes I was dressing myself, was a gorgeous petite little
girl, and her things were fitting me perfectly. 

I raised up the white silky lace trimmed slip next. I raised it up
over my head, worked my arms into the arm holes, and looked up into
it. This was a sight that only my pretty sister had seen before. I let
the delicate silk begin to slide down over my head and shoulders. I
shuddered. I felt like girlhood was coming down with it, and
enveloping me in itself. I wanted to feel like a real girl, more than
I had ever wanted to feel anything before.

The blouse that she had worn to school that day was a delicate thin
silky one, with long sleeves. It was a light silver design, with
vertical  beige lines, and beige leaves for a design. When I started
to button it up, I had some difficulty, as the buttons were done up on
the wrong side, and under a flap that hid the buttons. The neck was
high, about three inches high, and was secured by four round material
covered buttons. The sleeve cuffs had two buttons. When I had it on, I
felt Victorian in it. I knew how well my sister had looked in it, and
I was thrilled to know that it fit me just as well as it had fit her,
only scant hours before I had put it on.

The skirt took a bit of figuring. It was a wrap around, in a white and
black plaid, that had two little belts over the left hip. I put on my
very first skirt, not feeling ashamed at betraying my boyhood, like I
should have been feeling, but curious to see how my legs looked,
coming out from under a girl's skirt. 

Mary's shoes were also on the floor. They were brown, with a brass
design over the toes, and had three inch heels. I wondered if my feet
were as small as hers were. I slipped my nyloned feet into them,
marvelling at how it felt. The insides of the shoes seemed to be lined
with some kind of soft satin, that felt very nice indeed. I loved the
way the high instep of the heels pushed up against my arches. What I
really loved though, was the way they made my legs arch a bit, and
made my legs look very feminine, and girlish. The shoes fit, much to
my amazement. For some reason, I had always thought that my feet were
bigger than Mary's. It must be the different designs of the shoes that
had given me that impression.

I stood up, very uncertainly, and was delighted at the way all the new
muscles were being used, muscles that I had never had to use before. I
took a few tentative steps. In seconds, I was walking just like my
sister walked. It amazed me that I could so easily imitate girlish
mannerisms.

I went over to the vanity desk, and sat down, noting that I was
looking more like my sister than anyone else that I had ever known. I
had no experience with makeup, so I limited myself to a light eye
shadow, a bit of pink blush, and pink lip stick. I did not want to try
using mascara, no matter how much I longed to do everything that my
sister had done that morning, when she had dressed herself up in the
same clothes that I was wearing right now.


Three

When I finally knew that I was ready to see myself as a girl, for the
very first time, I looked over towards the mirror. I stood up,
spritzed on a bit of perfume, the same perfume that my sister had worn
that day, when she had worn these clothes to school, and I closed my
yes. 

I took measured steps over to where I thought that the mirror was.
Once I was pretty sure that I was in the right place, I opened my
eyes.

I saw a pretty girl.

I did not see me in my sister's clothes. I saw a pretty girl that
looked very much like my sister Mary looked. But it was not Mary. I
did not look like Janet either. I did see the resemblance to my mother
though. I had never seen any kind of resemblance to family members
before, but now I knew that I got my looks from the female side.

A strong longing when through me, a sort of intense jealousy, because
I was not entitled to wear clothes like this. If I had a girl's
hormones in my blood, like my sisters did, I would be able to go to
school, looking like this, and have the boys hot after me, just like
my sisters did.

I nearly cried with the conflicting emotions.

I hated being a boy, because I could not legally dress like this, and
look like this. I hated looking like this, because I knew that I could
never again find satisfaction as a boy. I would always remember how
pretty I looked, and how pretty these clothes had made me feel, and I
would resent that I was not a real girl. I knew for certain though,
that I was not a real boy any more. I never could be, not after seeing
what I looked like, and knowing what I felt like when I was dressed
like this.

I felt guilty, because I was betraying my boy hood. I had fought and
struggled all of my life to preserve the image of being a normal boy,
and now, I looked better in my sister's clothes than I ever had as a
boy.

I felt anger and resentment. The only difference between them and me
was that they had a different hormone, and I had that bit of flesh
between my legs. Why had life been so unfair to me? I wanted to cry,
but I looked too pretty when I smiled.

What was I going to do from now on? I knew that I could never stop my
desire to dress up as a girl from now on. This was too nice. I could
never give up this feeling.

I felt a strange sense of very deep peace inside of me. For the first
time in my life, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I felt like I
was looking at a whole person. I was one whole person now, and it so
happened that my personality was a she, a she that I was not allowed
to be.

I posed in front of the mirror. I wanted to see what I looked like,
doing all of those femmy things that girls are expected to do. I waved
at myself with limp wrists. I looked so cute. I twirled really fast,
and the skirt flew up to reveal the white panties that I was wearing.
I smiled and scrootched up my nose in the funny way that my sister did
it, that guys thought was so cute. It was cute, and it was cute on me
to. Guys would say the same things about me, if they saw me, I knew.

I should not be thinking about guys. I was a guy, albeit a totally
emasculated and effeminated one, but a guy none the less. I knew that
I did not want to remember that though.

Then I watched myself as I executed a very pretty and graceful curtsy.
I wondered what it would feel like to curtsy in front of Bruce. I
wondered what I would feel like if Bruce were with me right now. Would
he kiss me? Would I let him kiss me? Would I like the feel of that
bushy moustache? Would he make me feel even more girlish than I
already did? Would he think that I was as pretty as I thought that I
was?

I decided to set up the camera on the tripod. I took three or four
pictures. I can not explain the feeling of freedom that I had, as I
watched them develop, a permanent record of my girlification. Any one
who ever saw these would know that I was a sissy, complete and
utterly. I knew, when I saw them develop, that I belonged in girl's
clothes. I was not a real boy, but I made a far better girl than I had
ever made as a boy.

I took about six pictures in total. They were all quite pleasing to
me. Wearing my new garb, I went into my room, and sat at my desk,
subconsciously smoothing my skirt out under me as I sat down. I could
not get over just how completely I had assumed feminine mannerisms. I
was a natural acting girl. I wished for a brief moment, that being a
boy had been that natural to me.

I set up the scanner, and soon had electronic images of myself as a
girl. Bruce had given me his e-mail address. I knew that he would  not
be back for a week, so I decided to send the pictures to him.

"Dear Bruce.

I did what you asked me to do. I got dressed up in the clothes that
Mary had worn to school today. I can not believe how girlish and
feminine that wearing them makes me feel like. I almost wish that I
had been born as a real girl, because I feel so nice wearing these
clothes. I wish that I could have worn them to school today.

Well, I took the pictures that you asked me for. I attach them. Please
don't laugh at me Bruce, but I really do look much better as a female,
than I ever did as a guy, at least I think I do.

I think that tonight, I am going to sleep in Mary's bed, and I am even
going to wear one of her night gowns. I know that I should not be
doing this, but I can not explain how nice it feels to me, and I find
that I want to feel everything that a real girl gets to feel.

Bye for now, from your boy friend who is wearing his sister's clothes
for you."

I attached the photos, and started to send the e-mail. As I was doing
this, I turned on the chat program. I surfed the chat rooms for a bit,
not really finding anything interesting, when an idea hit me. I could
sign onto a chat room, and use a girl's name. I could tell everyone
that I was really a girl, and everyone would treat me like I was
really a girl. I wanted to be treated like a girl.

I changed my setting so that when I logged onto a chat room, people
would see the name Debi, where my name usually appeared. I went to a
popular chat room, where I knew there were lots of young guys.

It was only seconds before I had a private message from Kenneth.

"Hi Debi. How are you doing tonight? Do you have a picture that you
can send me?"

I grinned. He thought that I was really a girl.

I typed in, "Sure. Here it comes, if DCC is not too slow tonight?"
Then I loaded the picture, and sent it. I could not believe that I was
really sending a picture to another boy, of me as a girl, and he
thought that I was a girl. I did not get an immediate reaction, so I
figured that he had an older system where he would have to exit one
program to look at the picture.

"You is one foxy looking honey, Debi" flashed up on my screen.

I flushed with pleasure that a guy looked at my picture, and thought
that I was foxy looking.

"Thank you Kenneth. Do you have one to?"

"Here is comes, babe."

In seconds, I started to receive his picture. I wondered what he
looked like. When it was done, I opened the file, and I was absolutely
unprepared for what I saw. Kenneth, if that was him, was a young guy,
thick dark curly hair, sky blue eyes, muscular and totally naked, with
an erection held in his left hand.

"Did you get my picture all right, baby?"

"I... I did not expect one like that."

"That is what looking at your picture does to me Debi. I am hard like
that, right now. Do you like my cock?"

Did I like his cock? I was a guy. I looked at the picture again.

"Yes."

"Would you like to feel it in your hands, Debi?"

I was shaking. I was glad that he was not here with me right now. I do
not know what I might have done if he was. I was supposed to be a girl
though, so no matter what I was really feeling, I wanted to see how
girls on the net got treated.

"Yes." I blushed with hotness, as I knew that it was really true. I
would like to feel it in my hands, just like any other girl would like
to feel it, I assumed.

"Would you like to suck on it for me, Debi?"

Wow... This Kenneth did not waste any time. He was an aggressive guy,
normal guy, I guess.

"Yes."

I could not believe that I typed that word. I looked at the picture,
and I thought about what it would feel like to kiss the end of it,
then to open my mouth, and let it slide in between my lips. I could
not believe that I was even considering such a thing.

"If I was with you right now, Debi, I would let you kneel down in
front of me, and take my cock into your mouth. Do you like sucking a
guy's cock, Debi?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, as the old saying goes. "Yes I do."

"Ummm... I have to confess honey, looking at your picture, and hearing
all about how much you like to suck a cock has really turned my crank.
I could not stop it. Just thinking about a hot looking chick like you
kneeling down in front of me, and taking my cock into your pretty lips
made me cum all over myself."

I was flushed. The idea that a guy would cum, while looking at a
picture of me, as a girl, was absolutely thrilling. But I was ashamed
of the way that I was feeling to. This was wrong. I was a guy.

Not knowing what else to do, I hit the off button, breaking the
connection with the guy who had just orgasmed over thinking about me
sucking his cock, while he looked at my picture. A part of me, I
realised, I did not want to do it. I wanted this guy to talk to me
about how pretty and hot he thought that I was, but I did it anyway. I
suppose that my ladylike sensibilities were offended. At least now I
knew how the real girls got treated, in cyber space.

I made my way back into Mary and Janet's room. I decided that I wanted
to try wearing a dress, for the first time in my life. I removed the
skirt and blouse, placing them in somewhat the same place where Mary
had discarded them, and went over to their closet. I loved the
delicate scent from the mixed perfumes that assailed my nostrils when
I pulled the closet door open.

I moved one dress hanger after another one across the pole, till I
found the one that I really wanted to try on. Non of them had worn it
in a long time, but I had always liked it. I pulled it out.

It was a pale lime green in colour, and was made of some kind of silky
material. The sleeves were three quarter length, and were trimmed with
wide cuffs of white satin. The V neck was trimmed like the cuffs, in
the same kind of white satin. There was a wide white plastic belt that
went with it to. The front of the top of it looked like a double
breasted jacket, no pun intended, and the skirt of it flared out in a
fullness that flowed around the wearer's thighs in a most graceful
fashion.

I lowered it over my head, and did up the belt as tightly as I could.
When I saw what I looked like in it, I nearly cried again. It was a
beautiful dress, and I was envious of the girls for being allowed to
wear it. I wished, for the first time in my life, that I really was a
girl, so that I could wear dresses like this one, all the time.

I took some pictures of myself in it, lying on the bed, posing at the
vanity desk, and I even went out into the living room to take a
picture of myself sitting like any other girl might, and watching the
television.

I decided to scan them to, so I went back to my room. The sight of my
computer, made me relive that I had told a guy that I wanted to hold
his cock, and that I wanted to suck it, while he was looking at a
picture of me, thinking that he was talking to a real girl. I smirked.
I wondered if I really could fool a real guy.

I turned on the computer, and scanned the pictures. When I was
satisfied with the way they turned out, I was about to turn off the
computer, when I thought that I might as well check my e-mail before
going to bed.

I was amazed to see a message there from Bruce.

"You are a really cute girl. I wish that I was with you. I would kiss
you gently, and make you really feel like the girl that you look like.
Call me. 592-6734."

I was astounded. He was not supposed to be there. he was supposed to
be away for another week.

I was trembling. Dare I call him?

I jotted down the number, being very sure that I did not have the
courage to call him.


Four


Before I knew what I was doing, I heard a deep voice. "Hello? Hello?
Is that you, pretty girl?"

My voice cracked. "Ye... Yes?"

"I have got to tell you that I think that you are one of the prettiest
girls I have ever seen."

"Uhhh... Thank you?" I was not sure if I should be thanking a guy for
telling me that I was a pretty girl, but I was flattered.

"What is your girl name, honey?"

"Uhhh... Debi, that is d e b I, one b, one e."

"Ummm... That is so cute. Cute, just like you are honey... Debi...
That names suits you honey."

"Uhhh... Thanks, I guess?"

"What are you wearing Debi?"

"A green dress..."

"I would like to see you in it."

"You would?"

"Yes Debi, I would. I really would..."

I did not know what to say, so I said nothing.

"Debi?"

"Yes Bruce?"

"Would you like for me to come over and see you in your green dress?"

"You... You really want to see me in it?" I knew that I was playing
with fire, but I had never been so excited in my life. The front of my
panties were nearly bursting, I was so hot.

"Yes I would, babe. I really would. What is your address?"

"1284 Amelia Street."

"Wow... That is only four blocks from here. I will be right there
honey. Keep your panties dry."

I felt so funny, hanging up the phone, having been talked to in a
mannerism that is only used when it is expressed towards women. "Keep
my panties dry..." I liked knowing that this man knew that I was
wearing panties.

Ten minutes later, I heard a light rapping on the front door. My heart
leapt into my mouth. What if it was not Bruce? What if it was one of
my father's friends? I trembled as I peeked around the window frame,
but I cold not see anything.

Summoning more courage than I had ever thought that I had, I walked
over tot he door, acutely aware of the hollow click of my heels on the
tile flooring, and I forced myself to turn the knob.

I pulled it open, and there stood Bruce. I could not get over how much
he looked like his pictures.

I shook in fear, as I smiled and welcomed him in. This was the first
person who had ever seen me wearing a dress, and he was a guy, and
handsome guy.

He smiled as he came in. He removed his jacket and tossed it onto a
chair. he wore a plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans with a pair of
really scruffy brown leather loafers.

So, here you are. My, you are even prettier in person, you know that
Debi?"

"You... You think that I am pretty as a girl?"

"Not just pretty honey, but foxy. You could turn the crank of any guy
who sees you walking down the street."

"Really? Uhhh... Bruce? You want a beer or a soda or something?"

"Yeah... A diet Coke would be nice..."

I went into the kitchen and got two Cokes. I poured mine into a glass,
and that was another first for me, too. I just knew that most girls
did not prefer to drink out of cans. I did not feel like it would be
normal for me to not use a glass.

I took his drink in to him, and found that he had stretched out on the
couch in a semi flop. He grinned at me, as he took the can. He was so
cute, I thought. I wondered if he was lying to me about how cute I was
as a girl. I did not care if he was. It sounded nice.

We talked for a few minutes, then he sat up on the couch, and patted
the seat beside him. "Why don't you come over here, Debi?"

I did not have a good reason for not going over and sitting beside
him, just like I had seen my sisters do with their boy friends. I felt
a flush of warmth, as I though of Bruce as my boy friend. I would
never have dreamed, even this morning, of ever having a boy friend,
and here he was in living glory.

I went over, feeling very feminine and girlish, and I smoothed my
dress out as I sat down beside him. I sat very close, in the manner in
which a girl sits close to a guy that she likes. I could feel the heat
of his leg right through my dress.

"Debi, I would really like to kiss you. You can not imagine how turned
on I am, knowing that such a pretty and delicate young lady, has a boy
part in her panties. But, I do not want to do anything that you do not
want me to do. So it is up to you. Would you like me to kiss you, the
way that I kiss pretty girls?"

"I... I guess?" I could not believe it. I had just asked a guy to kiss
me, while I was wearing nothing but girl's clothes. What has been
happening to me?

He gently turned half way to face me, and placed his right arm along
the back of the couch. I felt it as he let it slide down the back of
the couch, so that it was behind my head. He looked at me in the eyes
for a long moment. He made me feel utterly feminine. I did not know
what to do. I lay my head back, resting it on his arm. I guess that it
was the right thing to do, because he smiled at me.

He leaned over. I could smell his after shave lotion. I could also
smell the face soap he had last used. When his face was right in front
of me, he paused for a few moments. I caught my breath. I was dressed
up as a pretty girl, and I was about to be kissed by another guy. My
cockette throbbed almost painfully in the soft silk of my panties. I
did not want to be so turned on about being a girl, but I was. I
wanted to be Bruce's girl. I wanted him to really like me, as a girl.

Then I felt the moustache lightly tickle my cheeks and my nose, and my
lips. It was soft. I had thought that it would be thick and scratchy,
but it was not. Then I felt his lips lightly touch my lips. It was so
light a touch, that I wondered if I were imagining that he was really
kissing me. His lips moved ever so lightly across my lips, and then he
sat back.

"Kissing you is very sweet, Debi. You are a lovely young lady, in my
eyes. Do you want me to kiss you some more?"

I could not speak. I was too excited. I nodded my head up and down.

Bruce soon had his arms tightly around me, squeezing me against his
chest, and his lips were grinding into mine. But it made me feel so
loved, and so feminine. I let my arms go up to encircle his neck, and
it made me feel as though my whole girlified front was exposed to him.
I felt so weak, and so vulnerable. I knew that real girls depended on
their guys liking them, and wanting to treat them nice, as their
protection. I felt like that with Bruce.

Bruce continued to kiss me like that for almost an hour, as we talked,
and I got more and more relaxed, and more and more into my girl role.
The further I got into being Debi, the more that I like it.

Bruce took one of my hands, and placed it on the front of his jeans.

"Debi, real girls like to feel a guy like this. Do you like the way it
feels?"

"Yes... I do... I do not understand it. I am a guy. I should not be
liking this so much."

He reached over and lightly grasped me through the front of my dress.
"The only boy thing about you is right here, in a pair of pretty
panties. There is nothing else that is boy like about you."

I shuddered and felt ever so weak, when he grasped me like that. I
thought I was going to feint, the emotion of being in his control was
so strong to me. I shuddered.

"Oh... I see the little girl likes to be touched like this?"

He began to squeeze me a bit harder, and ground the intimate girl
material of the panties that I was wearing, into the only boyhood that
I had. I swooned. I grasped him tightly around the neck, and I sucked
his tongue deeply into my mouth, and I bucked up into his hand. I
could not stop the enormous orgasm that shook me, as I felt a man
holding me the way he holds girls.

I nearly feinted with the sheer intensity of the bliss that washed
over me. I knew that I would always want to take the girl's part from
now on. I was a natural girl, or as the old expression goes, I was a
Nancy boy, and even though I knew that being such a big sissy was
totally derogatory, if felt so sweet to me.

Once I had recovered, I found that I had subconsciously replaced my
hand on his cock. It was throbbing under my hand. I was thrilled and
flattered that I could, as a girl, make a guy like me so much.

"Debi, you know what I would like you to do?"

"What Bruce?"

"I would like you to suck my cock."


"You..." I was dumbfounded. He had just told me that he wanted me to
become a cock sucker. But, as the idea rolled into my conscious mind,
the idea did not seem to be such a bad idea after all. I had been
kissed like a girl, and it had made me love Bruce, and had made me
feel completely feminine. Bruce had felt me up, and had made me have
the wildest most intense orgasm that I had ever had. Sucking his cock
would be a natural extension of this new life that I was exploring, I
realised.

"I... I don't know if I can, but... But if you want me to try, I will,
Bruce?"

"Debi, I do not want you to try because I want you to. Know guy does
not want a blow job. I want you to try because you are a girl, and
girls like giving blow jobs to their boy friends."

He looked at me for a long moment, as he sat holding my hands in my
beskirted lap.

"Well Debi? Do you want to please me in that way?"

"How...? How do I...?" I could not believe the words that I was
hearing pass my lips.

Bruce stood up in front of me. I watched, mesmerised as he unzipped
his pants, and undid his belt. Was this really happening to me? He
unbuttoned the front of his shirt. He unsnapped his jeans, and then,
hooking his thumbs into the waste band, he pushed them down. They slid
down his legs, down to his knees.

He had a really obscene bulge in the front of his white jockey shorts.

"Touch it Debi. Touch it like a girl touches her boy friend..."

I moved forward on the couch, till I was sitting on the front edge.
The bulge in his shorts was only about four inches from my face. I
reached up and lightly put my hand on it, as I looked up into his
face. I felt utterly submissive to him, and it was such a sweet
feeling to me.

"Do you want, and I mean really want to suck me Debi?"

"I... I want to try, Bruce?" My voice was cracking. I could not
believe what I was saying and doing. My grasp on the front of his
shorts had tightened as I had spoken my desires to him. I did want to
do it. I wanted to look in the mirror in the mooring, and I wanted to
be looking at a sissy cock sucker.

"Take my shorts down honey..."

I reached up with both hands and tugged at his shorts. As his waist
band passed the head of his cock, his cock sprang back, and smacked me
in the face. I should hate it, but I did not. I felt like a girl,
about to suck out her reward.

When I got his shorts down to his knees, I looked straight ahead. His
cock was there, right in front of me. I smelled his man smell, a smell
that I had never smelled from me. I liked it. I reached up with both
hands, and I explored it. I was amazed at how the satiny smooth skin
seemed to float across a rod of iron just below the surface. It was
really hard, and I, as his girl, had made it that way. I felt
flattered.

I gently masturbated him for a long few moments. I was amazed that I
was doing it. I was amazed that I had made him so hard. I was amazed
that I was being his girl.

"Ummm... I love the way that feels honey, but you can't suck a cock
doing that..."

I looked up at him, and blushed. He was right of course.

I moved my head forward, and placed my lips on the dry head. I had
wanted to just give his cock a little kiss, to see how I would feel
about having a cock so close to my mouth. What I found was that I had
a desire to honour him for having what it took to be a real guy,
something that I would never have. In seconds, I was covering his cock
head with gentle little adoring kisses. I wanted him to know that I
wanted to honour him for being a real guy.

The kisses went down the shaft and back up the other side. I was
rubbing his cock along my cheeks, as though it was the most wonderful
thing that I had ever done. I felt completely free, to be a real girl.

Then I moved my lips to the head of his cock again. Ever so slowly, I
opened my lips and pressed forward. I felt the hard dryness pass over
my sensitive lips. I could hardly believe that I had this much
courage. I felt it pass over my lips, and then the head was inside of
my mouth. I looked up into his eyes. I could see his bliss written all
over his face, bliss that I was giving to him.

He pushed a bit, and his cock filled my mouth. I had never had my
mouth so full before. I could feel it pushing out my cheeks from the
inside. I wondered if he liked what that looked like. I hoped so. I
continued to look up at him. He looked down at me, and he had what
could only be described as an expression of elated superiority on his
face. He was right to feel superior to me. I was not a match for him.
I was a girlified cock sucker, and I knew that this was all that I
would ever really be. I could never be a guy again, not after finding
how wonderful it felt to be a girlified boy.

I did not care if I ever felt like a boy again. I liked feeling like a
girl too much.

He started to jerk and swell up. I knew that he was going to cum into
my mouth, just like he would do to any other girl. This was what guys
did. They gave their cum to girls, and girls took it with a willing
heart. I wanted it to, just like any other girl would.

I locked my lips around him, and ran my tongue over his shaft, as I
tried to increase his pleasure, as he gave me the reward that girls
get. He started to erupt with force into my mouth. I did not think
that I was going to be able to keep it all inside of my mouth. I knew
there would be hell to pay if I ruined this dress, so I was desperate.

I swallowed as much and as fast as I could. I loved the way the salty
material felt inside of my mouth, as I swallowed the big gobs of baby
maker juice. Soon, I knew that like any other girl, I had taken all
that he had, and I had kept it all inside of my girlified body.

I was really a girl now.

I continued to suck his cock while he softened inside of my mouth. I
did not want him to leave me so soon. I tried to make him hard again,
but he patted my head and told me that he had already jacked off, when
he had seen my pictures in his e-mail, so he was done now for the
night.

I licked his cock clean for him, and watched as he replaces his
habille. I knew that I was going to suck him again, and that it would
be soon. I knew that I was not gay, because I did not want to suck
him, as one guy to another. I wanted to suck him as a girl sucks a guy
she likes. I was a girl. If  people thought I was gay, I could not
help that. I did not want to be a guy with a guy. I wanted to be a
girl with a guy.

This is how I became a cyber chick.

If you would like to write to me, I am Miss Debi Johnson:  e-mail
address:  dljohnson@cnwl.igs.net

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