Bra For Mickey, AIt was a hot June day.  The kind of day that made you feel thatyou were swimming in the air rather than breathing it.  I wassitting in front of the fan trying to stay cool.  I wascompletely naked.  I looked down at my body examining the sourceof my greatest shame.  I have an o.k. male body except for thesize of my chest.From the time I was 10 years old I had always been embarrassed bymy chest.  I remember how free I had once felt being able to runaround at the pool with my shirt off, no more.  Where a perfectlyflat chest had been as a little boy now I had developed largerbreasts than some women I knew.  I found it hard to buy clothesthat fit because of them. I always have to get a large chest sizeeven though the neck and waist is always much too large. I remember the day at age 13 when it finally hit me that I wasdifferent. I was playing happily in the local pool with somefriends. I was oblivious to anyone's looking at me, I hadconvinced myself that I was too self conscious. It was then thata 16 year old girl called me over to her and said, "Hey Mickey,why don't you buy a bra!", I ran back into the pool- crushed.  Ifelt like I had been hit by a cannon ball. I thought to myself,"I wish I were a girl, I would be accepted, even admired for mychest, my breasts, my boobs... if I were a girl." I stopped goingto the pool. Even now some 20 years later I can still feel thepain of that day.  I started to sob softly as I remembered it. Itwas only in private that I felt comfortable with my shirt off andmy large breasts exposed. I wonder what they would look like in abra?  Or wearing a dress that was designed with a full cut topand a narrow waist?  I wonder what it would be like to getcompletely dressed as a woman and go out on the town wearing abra and a dress, and jewelry and having long silky sensual hair?I had never shared my fantasy with anyone, although the thoughtof it felt thrilling.As the fan continued to whir, I was awakened from my daydream bythe doorbell ranging, I wiped my tear streaked face with a toweland slipped on my shorts. When I pulled open the door a friend ofmine, Wendy, bounced in full of excitement and life.  Wendy hadjust been shopping and thought that I could use some company. She said that her apartment was full of the day's purchases andshe wanted to model everything for me. Since her hair was now cutvery short she said had even bought a long wig for a more softfeminine appearance on special occasions. But even with her shorthair there was no doubt that Wendy was all woman, her curvaceousbody was the envy of every woman and the lust of every man whosaw her. She had an athletic body that told you she worked out,but she didn't allow herself to become all skin and bones, youcould see her womanly figure tugging at her bra, and her fullhips filling her skirt.  Even at age 35 she looked like a freshyet sensual teenager. Wendy was a beauty parlor operator and herappearance was the best advertizement for her trade. "Hi Mickey" She said in a singsong voice as she entered into my warmapartment.  She chattered on about the mall and all the thingsshe had purchased. Then, she noticed that I had been upset aboutsomething.  Wendy asked me what was wrong. I looked at her afraidto say. Then, as though a dam had broken inside of me the wholething tumbled out, the years of hurt, of insecurity, the teasingat school, and even the fantasy of actually being a girl (or nowa woman). I told her that I had never told anyone and asked herto please keep my secret. Wendy took me in her arms and held meas my tears came again, she was being strong for me in mypersonal weakness.  With Wendy holding me I felt someone at lastunderstood. She was like a sister in whom I could confide mydeepest secrets.After I quit sobbing Wendy told me that she had an idea of how Imight find some help for my inner pain. She said, "What if Icould make you into your fantasy?"  "What do you mean?" My voicetrembled.  "What if I could transform you into a buxom beautythat would be admired for your ample attributes? I'll bet that Icould make you up and dress you so that no one would know thatyou weren't born a woman, you could proudly display your breastsfor all to see."  I didn't know what to say. Wendy knew I wanted it even though Iwas afraid to say so, she instructed me to follow her down thehall into her apartment, It was much cooler in her apartment withthe air conditioner running.  As we entered Wendy began to openthe boxes that she had brought that day and pulled out articlesof clothing, a bra, panties, a long flowing floral dress and abeautiful long blonde wig. "Well" she asked, a smile crossing her face. "Strip out of those old boy things and I'm going to get you readyto knock some eyes out, you'll be a gorgeous sex kitten beforeI'm through with you!" My breathing was getting more rapid, Icouldn't believe what she was saying, I was a little scared, butI obediently followed her instructions.After I stripped, Wendy lead me to the bathroom and shaved mylegs, and my chest. As she shaved my chest she teased me bysaying, "When I'm done with you honey, these sexy titties ofyours are going to make people sit up and take notice."  If Iblushed Wendy didn't seem to notice.  She acted with aprofessional air that calmed me. I felt as though I was one ofher clients at her chic uptown beauty boutique.  She even beganto call me "Michelle" and engage me in "girl talk". Telling mehow Men don't understand what "we women" go through getting readyfor a date.After the shaving was done Wendy sat me down in the bathroom andplucked my eyebrows so that they formed a feminine arch.  Shesaid, "Now Michelle I didn't want you to look until she I'm alldone, I want you to get the full effect." With that she continuedthe process, putting on eyeliner, mascara, and blush.  She askedme to pout out my lips more and she applied a pink lipstick.  Iwas getting anxious to see.  "Now Michelle" Wendy said, "You aregetting there but there is still some more to do, tonight thereare going to be some broken hearts about you!"  I wasn't surewhat she meant but I sat there obediently.  To my fingernails sheadded some long tips so that my hands looked beautifullyfeminine. Wendy did my fingernails in a pink frosted polish  anddid my toenails in the same color.  She fussed for about an hourover all the details of my makeup until she finally smiled andkissed my forehead. "There you are little sister." she saidlovingly. Then she went over to her jewelry box and produced apair of long earrings and clipped them on my ears, then she put agold chain around my neck with a little heart pendent.  Finallystanding back admiring her work said "done."Before I could look in a mirror Wendy pulled me out into herliving room and made me slip on a pink garter belt and panties. The satin material felt deliciously soft against my naked skin.Then she produced a light pink bra that matched the panties andgarter belt. I began to tremble slightly.  Wendy knew, I hadalways wondered what it would be like to wear a bra but I hadnever dared to try one on.  Silently as though she was holding awounded sparrow Wendy stepped in back of me, slid the straps overeach arm, and pulled up the cups of the bra over my... eh,breasts.  There I said it, they were now breasts, titties, myboobs.  I felt glad not ashamed to have them. As the bra cupssurrounded my breasts they comforted me, they felt right. Mytitties filled the cups. Wendy hooked the back of the bra intoplace and turned me around.  Wendy looked at me with aprofessional eye, "Michelle, I'm surprised myself, but the fitseems just right. Without any help from padding you fill out to a38B! With this padded bra on you look like a C cup."  I wassurprised too.  Looking down I saw that my bra not onlysurrounded my breasts but perfectly supported them and pushedthem up forming a deliciously feminine cleavage. I felt my wholebody tingle as I looked down. I felt my breasts wearing what theywere made for. I felt proud of the way they looked.I didn't have time to ponder my womanly proportions, Wendy nowproduced a pair of light brown tinted hose and told me to slipthem on, as I pulled them on they encased my legs in the mostdeliciously soft material that I had ever felt.  My legs werealways without question more like my mother's then my father's.Wendy snapped the clasps closed on the garter belt, straighteningout the nylons. Then she pulled out a long flowing sundress, "Michelle, I thinkthat this dress will look beautiful on you on a warm summerevening and the top will make the most of you fabulous figure". She was right, the dress was utterly feminine, with a purplefloral print on a white background.  The long flowing skirtrested lightly on my legs and the daringly low neckline exposedmy new cleavage in a most provocative way. Wendy told me to spinaround a few times and say, "I'm Michelle, I'm a woman, I'mMichelle, I'm a woman."At last came the wig, a womanly crowning glory.  It was longlightly curled style, that cascaded down my back and over myshoulders. It felt delicious.  Wendy spent some time with a combbrushing it out and styling it.  It began to feel like it was myown hair.  From the reaction on her face, I could tell she wasexcited. She finished me off by having me step into a pair of 3"pumps. I was surprised how naturally I was able to walk in them.At last Wendy walked me to a full length mirror, I couldn'tbelieve what I was seeing-  an ultra feminine woman, who wasdefinitely all woman from her high heels to her long tressesflowing over a full curvaceous pair of breasts.  The face alonewould make a man cum in his pants wanting to feel those poutinglips around his cock. But the breasts were sensual beyondcompare. Any man would love to be with a woman who looked likethis, to let his hand slip under the blouse, to slide in underthe pretty pink bra and expose the woman-flesh underneath.That evening Wendy and I went out to a movie then to a disco,where I danced almost every dance with a group of admiring men. I enjoyed the feeling of my dress spinning, my hair tumbling downmy back and over my shoulders, and most of all I loved thefeeling of my breasts bouncing sensuously for all to see andadmire. And for some to feel, and for some special friends tosuck on. In the weeks and months that followed Wendy taught memore and more of the joys of the feminine roll, how to be allwoman.  I've lost a few pounds and my hair has grown. I no longerneed the wig, my own silky hair, now bleached blonde and frostedin a most flattering, feminine way falls over my shoulders.Wendy of course cuts it and styles it for me, we are having thetime of our lives, and share many special secrets.That was the beginning of what would be for me a new life, a lifethat included what was, and opened new possibilities.--