From PROSE1222@prodigy.net Wed May 07 16:11:58 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!Sprint!uunet!in1.uu.net!192.207.105.50!prodigy.com!not-for-mail From: PROSE1222 <PROSE1222@prodigy.net> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg Subject: tg repost -- Donna's First Punishment Date: Wed, 07 May 1997 16:11:58 -0400 Organization: Prodigy Internet Lines: 422 Message-ID: <3370E20E.7D90@prodigy.net> Reply-To: PROSE1222@prodigy.net NNTP-Posting-Host: 204.237.211.5 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/mixed; boundary="------------650662E46643" X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.0 (Win95; I) This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------650662E46643 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I am reposting a few stories just to return this to a story newsgroup and cut back on the spam. You all know the way disclaimers work so I won't bother to add any. If you are not familiar with them then you are too young to read these. My writings are purely fictional and you have permission to archive them, but don't sell them. Thanks. --------------650662E46643 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; name="Donna" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Disposition: inline; filename="Donna" Barbara Elizabeth Jameson PRESIDENT BARBIE'S WRITINGS INC. P.O. BOX 125 NIVERVILLE, NY 12130 TRANSVESTITE TALES VOLUME 1 = = I love being a girl...make me a woman DONNA'S FIRST PUNISHMENT = When I was ten years old, I was quite a brat. I loved teasing my sister and my cousins while mother would give them home perms. One particular day, she was doing my cousin Jennifer's hair and I was being my usual rotten self. I was constantly teasing Jennifer for being a "silly old girl" and "getting all prettied up" and I would not let up on her. Mother warned me twice to stop or I might find myself on the receiving end. I didn't listen. She rarely carried out her threats to punish me. I continued my taunting until Jennifer started to cry. This made mother quite angry and she grabbed me and stood me in front of Jennifer demanding that I apologize to her or suffer the consequences. I refused. Mother then turned to Jennifer, "What do you think would be a good way to punish him?" Jennifer had a big smile on her face to think that my mother would give her a choice and a chance for revenge. "I wish he had to have his hair curled while I watched and teased him about getting all prettied up. He should see what it is like to be a girl." Mother agreed that would be a good and proper punishment. She quickly finished putting the curlers in Jennifer's hair and then focused her attention on me. Since we were at Jennifer's house she had me follow Jennifer to her room where I was made to dress in some of Jennifer's clothes and carry one of Jennifer's dolls back to the kitchen where I had to endure having my hair placed in curlers also. Jennifer was delighted with what she was doing to me and teased me about wearing a dress and being "prettied up" as a girl. She even asked mother if I was going to have to play some girl's games with her. Mother said, "Of course she is, you don't think a pretty little girl like her will be playing silly boy's game do you? I won't be taking your curlers out for a while so you two go play and Jennifer you get to pick all the games." Mother was just removing the curlers from Jennifer's hair when her mother, Aunt Margaret came home. Mother quickly told her what had taken place and explained about the punishment I was receiving. She told her how I had to play hopscotch and have an imaginary dinner party with Jennifer and her dolls and how I had to play mommy. Aunt Margaret thought it was cute and a fitting punishment. She then asked my mother if she and her "daughter" would stay for dinner so Jennifer and I could play some more together. I was shocked when mother said yes. She removed my curlers and combed out my hair into a girlish style adding some pink ribbon bows to my hair and then she took my Aunt's advice and put some pink nail polish on my fingernails and put a light coating of a pink lipstick on my lips. She then left me in Aunt Margaret's care as she went to pick my sister up and bring her back for dinner. Uncle Arthur had a good laugh when he saw the way I was made to dress and heard about how I had spent my afternoon. My sister squealed with delight that mother would punish me this way. I was thankful when the day was over and I was allowed to dress as a boy again. Fortunately, the teasing stopped about a month later and noone gave it a second thought until another incident when I was fifteen. I was getting ready to go to school when my sister went screaming to mother to complain about me. I had stolen her diary and had placed all her bras in the freezer as a practical joke. Mother did not appreciate what I had done and my refusal to return the diary. She took advantage of me standing in the kitchen without a shirt to declare her punishment and teach me a visual lesson. She ordered me to see what it was like to have to wear a frozen bra. It sent immediate shivers through my body to have such extreme cold pressed against it. It was embarrassing just to be made to wear a bra in the first place, let alone one that had chilled in the freezer. My sister burst out laughing as mother hooked the bra and adjusted the straps to fit me. I blushed as mother said, "You look cute in a bra, son. But you need a little something extra to fill it out." I was then informed that as long as the diary remained unreturned that I would have to wear the bra as punishment. I was getting angry at this treatment and refused to give in to them. I tried reaching behind my back to unhook the bra but found I did not have the coordination to do so. Mother and Sheila laughed at my struggle. I begged them for help but was refused. I was told the punishment would stand and that I needed to finish getting dressed for school. I protested against being sent to school with a bra on under my shirt. My protest fell on deaf ears. I continued my protest until mother became angry and threatened to make me wear a dress to school as well as the bra, or worse yet with the bra cups filled. I knew her threat was real and decided to quit arguing with her. I resigned myself to my fate and went to finish dressing. I wore the loosest fitting heaviest shirt I could find to try to hide the bra from view and hope that no one in school found out about it. My only alternative was to return Sheila's diary, but I was determined to have the last laugh and refused to submit. I was constantly aware of the presence of the bra all through my school classes, but fortunately, as far as I could detect, no one else was aware of its presence. When I returned home mother demanded I return my sister's diary. I continued to refuse. = Mother decided that since wearing a bra to school did not work as effectively as she had hoped that a more drastic solution was necessary. She offered me an ultimatum. "I see no choice that since you seem to be defying me and are not embarrassed enough by wearing a bra that I will take your punishment one step further. Come with me to your sister's room. I'm going to put you in her clothes until you surrender her diary. Lets see how you like dressing all the way as a girl. Remember, we are also going to your cousin Jennifer's birthday party this evening. You'll be one of the girls. You can be Mother's little helper and help me bake and decorate Jennifer's cake. I'll give you one last chance for a reprieve. = Will you return Sheila's diary?" My pride was at stake and no matter what embarrassment I would have to endure, I was not going to give in. She was much more physical than I was and it was no use to struggle as she forced me to undress in my sister's room and dress in some of Sheila's clothes. Along with the bra, I found myself wearing panties, slip, pantyhose, a tight pink sweater blouse, a white miniskirt, and pink high heeled pumps. Mother then decided to add some makeup and jewelry and to use her curling iron on my shoulder length hair. When she was done I was given a chance to see the results in my sister's full length mirror. I could pass as her twin. What a scary thought that was. I almost panicked and surrendered the diary to escape being seen or having to remain as a girl. The image in the mirror was too real for me. = It was mother who broke the moment and renewed my determination not to surrender. "Well, what do you think of my creation? You are very pretty as a girl. I did not realize when I started your transformation that the results would be so incredible. Are you ready to return the diary or go to your cousin's party? We probably should give you a lesson or two in how to walk in heels and sit in a skirt. Come with me to the kitchen and I'll begin your lessons in acting feminine. We have a cake to bake. Come along now, Donna. Someone as pretty as you couldn't be going around with a masculine name like Donald, so I'll use the feminine derivative and call you Donna as long as you remain as a girl." That was all it took to make me more determined to stick it out in spite of the awkwardness. We walked to the kitchen, but I would be better describing it as I stumbled to the kitchen. = Heels take a different kind of balance and control. Mother laughed at my awkwardness and then told me to have a seat for lesson number two. She then produced another full length mirror and showed me how exposed my panties were by the way I was sitting. She then had me stand, straighten my skirt and then sit according to her instructions. She then showed me that by doing it her way, my legs remained covered as much as a short skirt could and my panties were not exposed. She then showed me how to cross and uncross my legs to maintain my modesty and as she put it, "be sexy to a man." I blushed once more from her comment. She had me get the ingredients for the cake and mix the batter and pour it into the pans. While the cake was baking, she had me make the frosting. My next lesson came on the subject of walking in heels. She had me walking around the house until I could do so without stumbling. She taught me to take short mincing steps and to shift my balance toward my toes. I could feel the effects on my leg muscles as they stretched in ways they were not accustomed to. It took me a while, but I eventually could walk comfortably and somewhat gracefully in the heels. I continued to practice walking while the cake cooled so we could frost it. It was a two layer cake and mother had me use the decorator to make flowers and write "Happy Birthday, Jennifer" I had been given my first lesson in cooking. It was now back to walking in heels. "You are doing quite well, son, at becoming effeminate. How long are you going to remain a girl? I think the way you are taking to these lessons that this may not be much of a punishment. You seem to be enjoying yourself. What am I going to do with you?" I turned every shade of red there was, but the worst of it was that I realized there were parts of this punishment that I found interesting. The softness of the clothes against my body was sending very pleasant sensations through it. Still it was not natural and I cringed at the thought of this continuing. Sheila came home as I was still practicing to walk in the heels. = Mother told her to get dressed and to get me a purse so we could go to the birthday party. I begged her to let me change back to being a boy and even promised to surrender the diary when I realized I would be exposed in public. She turned to me and said I had many opportunities to avoid the situation but I had now delayed too long and would spend the rest of the night as a girl without a reprieve and that there was no time left to change her mind and she also made me give her the diary immediately with the threat of keeping me in dresses for the entire weekend if I didn't. I gave in and surrendered. The thought of remaining as a girl and further public exposure made the decision to cooperate imperative. Sheila giggled as she handed me a shoulder strapped purse and a pink sweater. "Here you go, sis, you look very pretty. How do you like wearing heels?" "I don't. They are uncomfortable and difficult to walk in. I wish mother would let me go back to being a boy." " I hope she keeps you as a girl for a while. It seems to be doing you well. You look so cute in a dress and heels. Mother, Donna needs some breasts, her chest is too flat for a girl her age. She is not the ten year old girl you had dressed up as Jennifer's playmate. She is a teenage girl of fifteen. All girls that age have developed some kind of breast. Mother have you noticed she is so quiet and cooperative as a girl, can we keep her in dresses for awhile?" I broke down crying and all that did is get me laughed at some more. They said it showed how feminine I was becoming as I would even cry at the littlest thing. Mother looked at me after Sheila mentioned about me needing breasts to fill my bra cups. = Mother agreed with her and proceeded to have me remove my dress so she could take some foam rubber and fill them out. I then redressed and was allowed to see myself in the mirror. I thought I was scared before when I had seen how much I had looked like a girl. It was even worse this time as I realized what the addition of breasts did to my appearance. I went into a state of shock. I was devastated by appearing as a girl. = It was time for the party. Everyone in the family was going to be there. Jennifer was the teenage daughter of my Aunt Margaret and Uncle Arthur. Along with Jennifer, Sheila and myself, the other kids in the family were Karen and Linda. They were the daughters of Aunt Sharon and Uncle Paul. Karen was twenty and Linda was twenty-two. I was the only boy and I was fifteen. Sheila was sixteen. Jennifer was celebrating her fourteenth birthday. Everyone had a good laugh at my predicament. All the adults told mother that her form of punishment seemed to be very effective as I seemed rather contrite and well behaved as a girl. The other girls took delight in having me be one of them. The party was also to include some of Jennifer's friends from school. Amongst them were Lois, Susan, Mary, Ellen, Elaine, Carl, and Richard. They all enjoyed my plight. One of the games we played was chosen deliberately to embarrass me. It was spin the bottle. The two boys got to spin the bottle and kiss whichever girl it pointed to. I had to sit in as one of the girls. I was lucky that it never pointed to me. I did have a moment to deal with when some records were put on and I had to dance a slow dance with Carl as entertainment during a game of truth or dare. . My sister made sure to have her camera ready for it The party was actually kind of fun until near the end when I was forced by the adults to help clean up as one of the girls. = Jennifer and her friends were excused so that left Sheila and I to do all the work. Linda and Karen decided to have a little fun by making me wear a frilly apron and talking to me as if I were a maid. They had me bring them soda and serve our parents coffee. This brought a great deal of laughter from everyone, especially when I curtseyed as I took away the tray. I finished cleaning the house with Sheila and was then informed that since we had done such a good job, we were being loaned out to Aunt Sharon and Uncle Paul for the night and next two days to help clean his lake house and get it ready for the summer. I complained about having to remain as a girl but was quickly informed that since it appeared that keeping me in dresses seemed to be a very effective form of punishment that I would spend the weekend as a girl in order to impress on me what would lie ahead if I continued getting out of hand as a boy with my practical jokes and bad manners. I asked what I was going to do for clothes as we did not pack anything before we left home. I was informed that Linda and Karen had plenty of clothes for me to borrow from and since I appeared to be about the same size their clothes should fit quite well and Linda said she had a bikini I could wear to the beach. There was a lot of work to do, but with everyone pitching in it only took a few hours to get the place cleaned up from the winter's dust. Saturday afternoon was spent with Linda, Karen, Sheila, and I sun bathing on the shore. I wore Linda's bikini and since the foam rubber looked out of place Aunt Sharon went to a trunk in the attic and took out a box and handed it to me. = She said she had bought what was in it for Karen when she was thirteen and complained about not having any breasts while Linda had sprouted quite well. I opened the box to find a lifelike pair of gel-filled breast forms. Aunt Sharon found some special adhesive for them which was waterproof and secured them to my body. I could feel their weight and movement with every step I took or any motion I made for that matter. I felt even more embarrassed than ever before. The girls all giggled as I came out of the house in my bikini with full breasts. Uncle Paul whistled at me and said, " You really fill out that bikini, Donna! I love seeing a girl with big tits! " My face was as deep a shade of red as it could be. I was praying this weekend would come to an end. As I said we spent the afternoon down on the shore soaking in the sun. That evening I had to go with the other girls to a movie. Mother came and picked us up on Sunday and drove us home. She forgot to get the special adhesive remover from Aunt Sharon for the breasts that I had been given. The next day instead of dressing as a boy and returning to school, mother had to take me to Aunt Sharon's and get the remover. I had to accompany her wearing a bra under my boys clothing as she refused to allow me to go braless while having such large breasts. Aunt Sharon made her promise to keep the breast forms in case I ever needed to be punished again. Mother thanked her and then we drove home and I became a boy again. This was my first adventure as a girl but certainly not my last. It became a tradition on Halloween for me to be dressed as a female. My costumes have ranged from Indian Squaw to Wonder woman to witch to nurse to belly dancer. This year I was Cleopatra. Some of the Halloween parties had memorable moments that I'll write about at another time along with my adventures as a bride's maid. --Donna MarieHanson =1A --------------650662E46643--