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Me and Diane
by Staci Marie
When Mom saw the neighbor outside my new apartment, she said we'd make a
cute couple, so I asked Diane to join me on a photo shoot for a college
class. To my surprise she accepted, teasingly adding, "I was wondering
how long it would take you to ask me out." Then she giggled and held
out her hand in a sort of invitation to walk. I had time, so I reached
out my hand as well, and in no time we were sitting on the playground swings
about seven blocks away, swinging side-by-side and solving the major
concerns of the world.
As daylight faded to evening gloom, she reminded me about the camera
around my neck, so I began shooting her, ignoring the real assignment to
"Produce a photo which shows the power of the ocean." Her smile was
infectious, her giggle magnetic, and to say I was smitten merely understates
the obvious.
When finally we retraced our earlier footsteps, Diane pushed me to my
door where she threw her arms around my neck, kissed me on the cheek, then
made me promise I'd be at her door the next morning at five. I nodded,
kissed her on the cheek, then disappeared into the darkness.
Once through my own front door, I plugged my digital camera into the
computer, downloaded 130 frames, and printed the fifteen best. She is
beautiful, and so easy to talk to. I shuffled through the images one
last time, filed them in my nightstand drawer, set the alarm for 4:30, and
retired for the evening.
I tapped gently on her door, wondering why I was up at such an early
hour. Instantly she was outside, pulling me toward her car.
"Where are we going?"
"Hush," she whispered. "You'll wake the dead."
I followed as instructed and soon found myself traversing sand dunes at
the ocean. She threw down a towel upon which she dropped her sandals
and jacket, nodding for me to follow her example. Knee deep in salt
water a few minutes later, Diane pulled me close and whispered, "Watch."
I held tight and wondered what I was supposed to watch as one wave after
another washed onto the sandy beach then raced back past us to sea.
Then it happened. A little bit of light stretched over the hills to
the east and suddenly shots of silver raced through the icy surf all around
our feet. Little tiny fish, not two inches long, were everywhere.
"Aren't they beautiful?"
"I've never seen anything like it," I said.
"Yeah, but keep watching. They'll change."
And pretty soon they did change. As the sun pushed more light into
the sky, the little fish took on the colors of the rainbow. Blue
bullets and yellow, green and red, they were everywhere, but not once did
they come close to our legs.
"Now watch close," she said as the first edge of the sun peaked over Mt.
Nelmo, and as quickly as they had come, they were gone. As she pulled
away from me, she asked, "Don't you wish you could change that quickly?"
Not quite sure what she meant, I contorted my face and merely stared into
her satin blue eyes.
"I guess I mean they're suddenly here, then they turn from silver to
colors, then they're gone . . . all in the space of twenty minutes.
When we get home and change for breakfast it will probably take an hour, you
know, to wash off the salt water and everything."
"Yeah, I guess they are fast when you look at it that way." And
almost before I finished talking Diane was leading me back up the sandy
beach and home. She was back in the driveway by 7:15 and announced
that breakfast would be on the table by eight, so I'd better hurry. I
did, though I was a bit confused with how things were going.
Breakfast started things in a new direction, and within days the two of
us were inseparable. Diane spent her spare time with me and I spent
mine with her.
About mid-October I tapped on her door in the early afternoon, and and
was greeted by a flier for a Halloween party.
"Oh, Steve, this could be so much fun. Please say we can go."
I took the flier from her hand and read:
TWINS PARTY
(for Halloween)
October 28
Guys & Gals
DRESS AS
Twin Sisters
or
Twin Brothers
"So, you wanna be my brother?" I knew I was fishing, but any effort was
worth a try, considering the alternative.
She grinned as she reached up and took hold of my shirt collars, pulling
me into her apartment and giggling, "I always wanted a sister named
Stephanie."
I was doomed. In two short weeks I was going to be Diane's twin sister
Stephanie. I was not really comfortable with the idea, but she was
determined, and more excited than I had seen her over anything.
"Isn't there a concert or something that night? I could get tickets."
"Come on, Stephie. The only thing you're going to get that night is the
prize money."
Prize money? Had I missed something? She held up the flier one more time
and pointed to the giant starburst I had not seen.
GRAND PRIZE!!!
$500
for Most Convincing Twins
of each gender
"We could win $500?"
"Yup! That's $300 for Diane, and $200 for Stephanie."
"Uhhh!"
"Oh, Stevie, you're not gonna quibble over a lousey $50 are you. I mean,
we have to win it before we can fight over it."
"Okay. I won't argue."
"Then you will be my sister? Oh, Steve, I think I'm beginning to
love you."
"Cool." The love part was good, but I still wasn't sure what I'd been
railroaded into. "Are you sure you wanna be twin girls?"
"Now I'd look kinda silly with a moustache, don't you think?"
Oh crap. I was going to lose my moustache. It took me six months to grow
it to this point, and now she....
"Come on, Stevie," she giggled, pulling me once again. In her bedroom she
had set two chairs before the giant mirror attached to her dresser. "I want
you to look at our eyes."
I sat and stared, first at her eyes, then at mine.
"I'm not wearing any makeup today so you can see how much we look alike."
I furrowed my brow and concentrated on the details of our faces. She was
right. The shape was nearly identical. Our eyes matched, even to the tiniest
little lashes. Our mouths turned up at the corners in a twinish sort of way.
Our noses were the same. But there were a few noteable differences as well.
She had freckles which could be covered with foundation, but they're so
cute. That means she'd probably add them across my nose to match her. And
finally, our eyebrows don't match. That could mean she'd draw hers on
thicker to match mine, but I had a sick-in-the-stomach feeling she had
tweezers in mind.
"Well?"
I turned my focus to her eyes, grinned, then asked, "When are you
attacking my moustache and eyebrows?"
She smiled back, then raised both hands in front of her. One held
scissors and the other held tweezers. "How 'bout right now?"
"Is this open to discussion?"
"Sure, as long as you say we start right now."
"How 'bout the just the moustache, then you do the eyebrows just before
the party?"
"I guess that's okay, except that will make you look kinda funny at the
restaurant tonight."
"Restaurant?"
"Well, if we're going to be convincing at the party we'd better get in
some sister practice."
It didn't sound very exciting to me, but I did have to admit that it made
sense. "What restaurant?"
"Rochelle's Steak House."
"That's a nice dinner house. I can't go to a nice dinner house as a . . .
." And at that point she put her forefinger to my lips and silenced me.
"It's dark, Stevie dear. The lights are turned down really low and nobody
will be able to identify anything about you as a male. Your mother wouldn't
even recognize you in all that darkness even if you were dressed as
yourself."
"So what you're saying is that tonight I will be your twin?"
"Only for dinner . . . . And a walk on the pier."
"Will I be in heels?"
"Of course. And nylons."
"Maybe a reeeeally short pier."
"Nonsense! By the time we finish dinner you'll be a pro in heels."
I heard myself sigh and tell her to proceed, which she did immediately,
letting my moustache fall freely to the hardwood floor. I whimpered a time
or two for effect, but she didn't feel the least bit compassion for my loss.
Instead she giggled and cut more off.
"Okay," she signaled, setting down the scissors and picking up a razor.
"Now it's your turn." I walked to the bathroom, turned on the hot water,
lathered my face, and finished the job. My skin was extra smoothe when I
returned to Diane and her tweezers. She rubbed her fingers across my upper
lip, grinned, then said, "That should do just fine."
"I guess."
"Oh, poor baby. You sound like you have the weight of the world on your
shoulders."
"Yeah, well I notice you didn't have to shave off any moustache or
anything."
"I shaved my legs before you got here, then I plucked my eyebrows.
Finished just before you knocked and I washed all the evidence down the
drain." I still wasn't smiling, so she grabbed my hand and rubbed my finger
tips up and down her shin.
"Okay," I giggled. "I believe you."
"Good. Now turn toward me and lean forward." I did as instructed and felt
my first little bit of the pain that it takes to be a woman as she plucked
eyebrow hairs one at a time. After a while I quit yelping, but the pain
never lessened. It just didn't make any sense to act stupid.
When the torture stopped she held a mirror up for me to see what she had
accomplished. I was impressed. Beautifully arched and thinned, I was
impressed to compliment her ability.
"Now the fun begins," she giggled. "If you're gonna be a girl you're
gonna be a girl right down to the skin. So put these on and I'll be back in
a few minutes." She handed me a bra and panties, dropped a dress on the back
of my chair, then left the room.
I pulled down my pants, then yelled, "Hey, Dianne. What about my legs?"
She stepped back into the doorway, looked quickly at my hairy legs,
grinned, and suggested I head to the shower. I picked up the razor, took
about three steps, then she stepped back into the doorway and said just a
minute. She pulled a little plastic bottle from the cupboard and said I
should use that instead of a razor. "Just rub it on everywhere, and I mean
everywhere except above the neck, then wash it off in the shower."
Again I did as I was told and in no time was watching clumps of body hair
running down the drain. I was smoother than on the day I was born and was
beginning to feel a bit anxious as I pulled on the panties then fastened the
bra. Finally I pulled the dress on over my head and called Diane.
"No, no, no," she giggled as she came in the room. The dress doesn't go
on till after the make up." With that she began pulline up on the dress. It
came back over my head, then she replaced it with a white slip, commenting,
"I think pink is your color Stephanie. Those panties look really good on
you."
"Yeah, right," I mumbled.
"Hey, lighten up, Sis. We're family now, remember?"
I smiled as she tugged the slip down all around me, pulling it into place
and working around behind me. Then her hands reached around me from both
sides and landed on the empty cups of my bra.
"Whatta ya say we fill these rascals up a little?"
"How?"
She pulled open a dresser drawer, extracted two silicone breast forms,
then reached under the slip to put them in place. I turned to check out my
profile in the mirror and grinned just slightly. A transformation was
underway and I was beginning to enjoy it. I sat back on the chair in front
of Diane and said, "I'm all yours." Immediately she began on my makeup. She
applied everything in what seemed like only a few minutes: liquid
foundation, pressed powder, false eyelashes, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara,
lipstick, blush, and eyebrow pencil. Then she replaced my studs with
dangling, jewelled earrings and told me to turn and face the mirror one more
time.
It wasn't even me staring back from the looking glass. It was Diane, but
with my hair. I just kept watching, not even aware that Diane had walked
across the room to her closet where she retrieved a wig that was the exact
color and style of her hair. She slipped it onto my head and the
transformation was complete.
"Well, Stephanie, what do you think?"
I was silent for a moment, then turned slowly and said, "How did you do
that? I mean, I look just like you."
She just smiled as she pulled off her blouse and jeans and stood in front
of me in bra and panties that matched mine. Then she covered up with a
matching slip and sat down. "Watch as I do my makeup," she instructed. "By
the time we go to the party you'll have to know how to do this on your own."
I watched intently, making mental notes of everything. When finished she
brushed her hair slightly till it fell into place to match my wig. Then she
handed me some panty hose and shoes and told me to put them on. I watched as
she did the same, copying her every move.
She stood up, then helped me to my feet, except that they didn't feel
like my feet because of the teetering.
"Good thing I'm starting you in one inch heels," she giggled, "but we
need to be in three-inch heels in two weeks."
"Then we'd better practice a lot."
She smiled at my comment, then leaned forward and kissed me ever so
slightly on the mouth. What a shame. That was the first kiss on the lips,
and all I get is a little peck so as to not mess up my lipstick, which I
shouldn't have been wearing anyway.
"You're pretty, Stephanie."
"That's because I look just like you. You're pretty too."
"You know, we just might win the prize money." This time the thought of
winning really sunk in to both of us, and like real twins we turned together
to stare at our identical images in the big mirror. Without thought we
reached out for each other's hand, then stood hand in hand staring for
probably five minutes.
"Come on, Steve, . . . er, Steph. We've gotta practice walking and
gestures and carrying a purse and about a million other things." She hurried
back out into the living room with me stumbling along behind her.
"Oh my," she continued as the clock chimed four times. "Our reservations
are for six. We'd better hurry."
When we entered the restaurant she did all the talking. She ordered for
me, she asked the waitress to fill my water glass, and she asked for the
bill. We'd worked on my girl voice quite a bit, but she said I had a long
way to go. She was right, too. But privately, and in a little more than a
whisper, I was able to sound quite feminine.
The dinner was wonderful, Diane was a dream, and the walk on the pier was
perfect. With the cooler weather settling in and the threat of rain, only a
handful of fishermen lined the old wooden structure and none were at the
end, behind the bait shop. We stopped back there to stare out into the thick
blackness of the starless night and went rather quickly from hand holding,
to hugging, to kissing.
But it only lasted a minute before we heard footsteps coming our way.
"You silly lesbian," she giggled. "We'd better head for home before
somebody loses her balance in those heels and falls into the ocean." So we
headed for home . . . and the ordeal of turning myself back into a man.
We kissed goodnight, I picked up my things, then Di handed me a bag
stuffed full of something and tied shut. "Look at this in the morning, not
tonight."
I thanked her, kissed her on the cheek, noticing that I left a faint lip
print, then went home to my apartment right next door.
As I undressed, curiosity got the best of me and I untied the bag. The
top item was a sheer, pink nighty with a note attached. It read: I knew
you wouldn't make it till morning. You should have sweet dreams in this.
I left the bra and panties on, and after taking off all the makeup I put the
wig back on. Finally I pulled the nighty down over my head, modeled it in
front of my bathroom mirror, then went to bed.
The next morning Diane woke me with her insessent pounding. I bolted from
my bed, and without thinking I opened the door, finally realizing that I was
still looking very much like a sleepy Stephanie. Fortunately it was Diane.
She saw me, giggled, then said, "Why don't you straighten your wig and let
me in, Cutie."
I stepped back from the door and as she entered she unbutoned her robe to
reveal a light blue version of the same nighty I was wearing.
"How's my new sister?"
"Wow! You're hot"
"You think so?"
"Heck yeah."
"Cool, thanks. But you know what that means, don't you?"
"No, what?" I scratched the crown of my head and felt the whole wig move.
Diane giggled, "It means you're hot too . . . cause we're twins."
I just nodded and stared.
"How long do you think it will take you to get dressed as my sister this
morning?"
"By myself?"
"Yup!" She smiled that big beautiful smile that attracted me to her in
the first place. "Makeup and everything. Except I see you've still got
breasts left over from last night. Don't you know that a lady never sleeps
in her bra?"
I blushed a little, but said nothing.
"I guess maybe you liked the feel of having breasts?"
I looked up, into her eyes, and could feel my face turning a brighter
shade of red than before. "How did you know?"
"I like having breasts too."
Wow, now I was three for three as my face continued on up the red scale.
"Anyway, Steph, I'm thinking about a trip down the coast a ways. Maybe to
Laguna Beach. Or how about the mission at San Juan Capistrano?"
"In heels?"
"Look in the bag. I'll be back at nine." And with that she was out the
door, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
The bag held clothes, makeup, pink tennis shoes, and a little jar of
makeup remover. "I guess I was supposed to find this last night," I mumbled
to nobody in particular.
They worked remarkably well. In just a few minutes all the makeup that
hadn't been smeared on my pillow case was cleaned from my face and I was
ready for the shower.
When Di showed up at my door again, she came in and fixed my makeup. "You
did pretty good for a beginner." Then she pulled some big hoop earrings from
her purse and replaced the dangling gold I'd worn the night before. I was
much more confident than I was fifteen hours earlier, but knew my voice
could get me in trouble if my overall appearance didn't get me beat up
first.
"Talk to me, Stephanie."
"What do you . . . ."
"No, no, no. In your girl voice."
"Hi, Diane," I squeaked to her delight. "I feel like breakfast. Want a
donut?"
"Well, you sound better than last night. But we'd better do a lot of
talking today. And no, I don't want a donut. We have to watch our girlish
figures, you know."
"Don't tell me you're gonna starve me."
"Girl voice?"
I sighed, then repeated, "Don't tell me you're gonna starve me."
"Much better. And no, I won't starve you. Now grab your purse and let's
go."
I looked confused, then looked where I'd dumped everything and found a
flat, hippie-style fabric purse with tassles, beads, and a long shoulder
strap. I put my wallet, checkbook, and keys, inside.
"Don't forget your makeup, Sis."
I did as instructed, then paused and grabbed a handful of Kleenex as
well.
"Now you're thinking," Diane said as I turned to join her. And just as I
did she sprayed me with perfume. I giggled, and Di added, "Wow, even a
girlish giggle."
The weekend was outstanding. We did lots of walking and by Sunday night I
had the voice pretty much under control. My confidence was building, and I
was liking what I saw in the mirror. Once while shopping Diane walked away
while I wasn't looking in her direction so that I could figure it all out on
my own that she was not my crutch. This was a good thing since I had to
attend my classes the next two weeks as a girl. I didn't think so at first,
but Di convinced me that all the practice I could get would simply improve
our chances of winning the Twin Contest.
I approached my professors before each class to explain what I was doing,
and their reactions were mixed. Most grinned or laughed, but Dr. Millbright
just shook his head and said, "You'll be sorry. I had a student last year, a
young man named Dave I believe, who did the same thing you're doing and
never changed back. Looked a little bit like you, if I remember correctly."
I didn't respond verbally, but my expression must have been choice. Didn't
change back? How weird is that?
Finally the night of the contest came. We were up bright and early to
take care of some last minute shopping, got our nails done to match, then
returned to Diane's apartment to relax for the rest of the day. Or so I
thought.
"Take off your shirt, Steve." That was the first time she had called me
Steve in two weeks. "Now take off the bra." I must have shared an
inquisitive look. "I called you Steve because you still have a male chest.
We need to take care of that."
"These falsies work, don't they?"
"They're alright." She sounded like she knew what she was talking about.
"But since you're enjoying this girl stuff so much I thought I'd help you
feel a little more feminine this evening. She opened a dresser drawer and
pulled out two different breast forms with some kind of fabric coming out
all around.
"Let's attach these right to your skin. Then you could go topless and
pass as a girl." I was a little bit nervous as she applied surgical glue to
the breast forms, let it dry just slightly, then she put it in place. The
loose edges were then glued also and blended into my skin with makeup like
the makeup artists in Hollywood would use. I turned to face the mirror and
saw a woman's chest where there should be no breasts. I immediately felt the
weight of them and watched them bounce and jiggle in the mirror as I moved
and turned.
"You're incredible, Diane. Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Oh, girls know lots of secrets."
"What else do you know?"
She silently went back to the drawer and pulled out something that looked
very much like a full, thick pair of underpants from the rear. Then she
turned it around to reveal an artificial vagina.
"Holy . . . ."
"Girl voice, Stephanie."
But I didn't say anything. Neither did she. And as she came toward me I
could see that this new item of femininity was to be glued on as well. She
held it in my direction and said, "You'll have to get into these on your
own, then I'll help with the glue and makeup."
It was a tight fit, a very tight fit, and working my penis into the hole
that was provided for it was quite a challenge. It was incredible. I would
be able to urinate without taking them off, and anybody that looked up my
dress would swear I was a real live girl.
I returned to Diane and her can of surgical glue. About an hour later I
was complete. Then we got dressed in skimpy clothing and went for a walk
around the apartment complex, braless, of course, so that I could get used
to my new anatomy. We got looks, and we got whistles. At first it bothered
me, even after two weeks as a girl, but pretty soon it didn't bother me at
all. In fact, I kinda liked the attention.
We were ready and were certain we'd win. So back in the apartment we
freshened our makeup, brushed and curled our hair, dressed in beautiful,
low-cut gowns and three-inch heels, then went to the party.
"I can't believe we lost."
Diane just giggled at me. "We didn't really lose, Steph. We've had a lot
of fun, and we were so convincing that they thought we were both really
girls. That's why we lost."
"Yeah, but . . . ."
"No, Stephanie. No buts. We didn't win the contest, but look at the
relationship we have developed. We really are like sisters."
"I guess you're right."
"Of course I'm right. It's just that I'm afraid I might be too right."
"What do you mean, 'too right'?"
"You're way too comfortable as a woman. You act more like a woman than I
do some days . . . and in some situations."
"Yeah. I've noticed that too."
"So, what's the deal? Are you going back or not?"
"Diane, Do you realize that you've never kissed me when I was dressed
like a guy? I mean, you've only kissed me when I was a girl. And your kisses
have been quite passionate when I've been dressed and made up as a girl.
You've even called me a cute little lesbian. I'm wondering if you want me to
go back."
"No! I don't want you to go back. I've been thinking a lot about it, and
you're right. It's Stephanie I've fallen in love with, just like I believe
it's Diane you have fallen in love with."
I just stared for a moment. A long moment. Then I leaned away from my
homemade twin and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"Who do you think Dr. Millbright was talking about two weeks ago?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Think about it. You are mentally a guy, and you fell in love with a cute
girl named Diane. I am mentally a guy, and I fell in love with a cute girl
named Stephanie. Now what's so wrong with that?"
"What's wrong with it is that when I was kissing you, I was kissing
another guy."
"No, Steve. You were kissing Diane. And I was kissing Stephanie. And
what's most important is that we both liked it."
She was right. Er, he was right. We did enjoy it. "So, your boobs are
glued on too?"
"No. I glued them on for about nine months. Then I got implants."
"So you're really going to become a girl?"
"Yup! I'm getting the rest of the surgery in January." Diane fell silent
and just stared into my eyes. I leaned toward her and realized that I really
was hopelessly in love with a beautiful girl. Our lips met somewhere over
the coffee table, our eyes closed, and we embraced for several minutes.
"Diane?" My voice was very feminine, a soft whisper in her ear.
"Yes?"
"What are we going to do when we're both real girls?"
She said nothing, but instead just smiled, pulled me closer, and together
we dropped to the floor and embraced in a loving, passionate kiss.
*********************************************
© 2007 by Staci Marie. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all
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