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Thank you for publishing my last letter on the new-look website. I enjoyed reading through all the letters, and I'm looking forward to the December edition. I hope the next part of my personal story will be included in it, which continues below. To pick up where I last left off. The next morning my grandmother woke me bright and early to dress me. If I was going to please her and adhere to dressing as a girl and learning the ways of the female sex, whether I wanted to or not, then she needed to teach me how to put on clothes like one, and continue to do so until she was satisfied I could do it properly by myself. As soon as I'd gotten out of bed, she made me stand by it, while she sorted out and arranged my day's clothes. Then she pulled my new cotton nightie up and over my head, folded it up on my bed and put it away in one of my draws as I waited, ready for the next night's use. She then went about dressing me for the day. As usual, she put me in a pair of her knickers and tights, but today instead of a dress, she made me wear a navy coloured pleated skirt, a light purple top and a cream cardigan. Once she had finished strapping up my shoes, she leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek; something she only usually did when I was about to leave for home, but seemingly as I was now dressing as a girl my gran felt a lot closer to me, and I must say I felt a lot closer to her. As I mentioned in my last letter, I think she could relate to me better now my feminine side had come to the fore, because of her past inexperience of boys my age or in general. Once she had kindly dressed me, I went about my Saturday morning at hers pretty much as I normally would. I ate my breakfast, which my gran had unusually made for me. I sat and watched a bit of Saturday morning TV, then once my gran had finished whatever she was doing, she joined me in the living room and we chatted about everyday issues and life in general, as the previous night, before playing a game of Scrabble for a while, which she always usually won. She didn't mention anything about what she wanted to discuss with me now I was in the first stages of becoming a girl, but I knew she would sit me down and reveal all eventually. She always did like to do things in her own time and was never rushed, so I didn't ask. After lunch that day, she finally sat me down in her living room and brought up what she wanted to talk to me about. As I can't remember exactly what the both of us said during that chat, I thought I would describe what I can remember instead. As I had presumed the previous night laying in bed, she wanted to talk to me about how I was dressing at hers now and how some things would have to change because of it. She started off by saying that now that I was her granddaughter and not her grandson anymore a couple of things would need to happen and stay that way. She made me agree to the things, even though she hadn't mentioned them yet, which I reluctantly did. I realized things would easier for me if I agreed to everything she asked of me. She held all the cards now after all. I was very much at her mercy. Firstly, she said that now I was her granddaughter, I would need my own clothes and underwear, as wearing hers every time I visited was unhygienic, even though she did wash every item of clothing after it had been worn once by either of us. Since the beginning of my weekend visits to hers, I had noticed she was a very cleanly and hygienic person generally, as most women are I suppose; which was of course something I needed to learn if I was to become one fully eventually, depending on my gran's wishes. I noticed early on that her bungalow and everything in it was always spotless, and her front and rear gardens were always immaculate. I also noticed she always kept herself perfectly as well. Her clothes, make-up and hair were always perfect and never, ever out of place. She looked after her body as well, always keeping fit. She never needed a walking stick or developed a stoop or anything like that. She was overall a proud woman and always held herself well. I really couldn't have a better woman or role model if not to be inspired into then be forced into womanhood by. I was very fortunate in that respect. After mentioning I would now need my own clothes for my forthcoming visits, she produced two clothes catalogues for me to look through. She told me to pick out some clothes I would like to wear while visiting hers as well as some underwear and shoes by the end of the weekend, so she could order the clothes and have them delivered by my next stay with her, so they would be ready and waiting for her to dress me into. Surprisingly, she did give me a lot of leeway in what I could and could not buy. But she did set some rules regarding what I could and could not pick out for myself, like I could not choose any trousers or socks even if they were designed for a woman, as she thought I should be in as feminine dress as possible at all times. She also said the underwear I picked out should not be too revealing (as if I would!) and of a sensible design, i.e. no thongs. She also set the ground rule that she would always dress me in some form of hosiery during my visits. It was then she asked me what type and colour hosiery I would like. As I was used to wearing them by then, I said tights and in black (as I'd noticed they were far and away the most popular colour of hosiery), with maybe some white and flesh coloured ones as well to add variety. She agreed to get the colours I wanted when she next went into town. After we'd discussed everything about the clothes she was going to buy me, she brought up the next thing she wanted to talk to me about. She told me bluntly that I would now need a girl's name. She went on the say that she felt uncomfortable calling me Paul, now I was her granddaughter. At first I was a little taken aback, I always thought she would call me by my boy's name no matter how I was dressed, but I quickly saw the errors of thoughts. It was more than logical that I be known as a girl's name when I was dressed as girl, which was now all the time. Having a girl's name would also take me one step closer to becoming one some day, if so deemed. Once I had accepted the fact in my own mind that I would now be known by a girl's name at my gran's, I instantly thought in the moment before my gran told me what it was going to be, she would call me some feminine form of my boy's name, like Paula, or Pauline. But she announced I would be called Caroline from then on. She went on to explain it was the name my mother was planning to call me if I'd been born a girl, and that she also liked the name very much. I smiled and said it was a very nice name for a girl, which I was quickly becoming. From then on she called me Caroline during my every visit. Personally it did take me a while to get used to going by a girl's name, but after a few visits I did get used to it. I was slowly accepting my fate. After informing what my new name would be, my grandmother left me to choose what I wanted out of the catalogues, bringing our discussion to an end. I was half expecting more, but she didn't bring anything else up. I thought she would go on to discuss my Flat chest, and my untouched face and hair, but she didn't. To tell the truth I was quite relieved. I never thought admitting my like of wearing the opposite sex's clothes would go this far, but since my grandmother was now enforcing my petticoating I had no choice in the matter. As I looked through one of the catalogues my gran had given me, I realized slowly but surely my grandmother was turning me into the fairer sex without my blessing. But I reasoned as she was grandmother, my elder, she knew what was best for me. I think her logic was that if I liked dressing as a girl then I should become one in all but body. It was as simple as that. I respected her wishes and went along with them without question, as any dutiful grandchild should. After all she had much more life experience than I did, making her a better judge than me in making decisions. She was also a lot wiser than I was, and had raised two daughters more than successfully. So, if she thought that I would have a better life as a girl, who was I to argue? I think it would have been very silly of me to do so. I wouldn't have gotten very far even if I had. Even though I only saw my grandmother as placid and caring, my mother had warned me when I first went to stay with her to fully respect her and do anything she asked of me. If not, she said, she would deal with me with a firm hand. She never elaborated from there, but I presumed she would employ some form of physical punishment. As I never wanted to find out what that was, I duly went along with her wishes at all times, even if I did sadly disagree with them from time to time. It toke me nearly all weekend because of the choice, but at the end I had selected everything I wanted out of the catalogue. I had chosen some dresses, skirts, tops, blouses, cardigans, a pink dressing gown, nice sensible knickers and a couple of pairs of shoes suitable for indoor use. I didn't know all that much about girls' fashion back then (as I'd never thought about it), but I tried to choose as fashionable and as current as possible types of clothes. My gran promised me before I left they would waiting for me the next time I visited. And they duly were. The next eighteen months or so passed without incident. My visits passed pretty much as normal over that time, except now I was more than halfway through my transition into a girl. Every month I expected her to advance my transformation in some way, be it Breasts, make-up, hair (added on my head or removed elsewhere) or maybe jewlery of some kind, but it never happened. I think my gran used to enjoy teasing me sometimes and keeping me under thumb. Until one fresh, late spring Sunday evening when I was about to set off for home after my gran had changed me back into my nasty boy clothes. She announced she would have a new surprise for me the next time I visited. As I set off for home on my bike, I wished she wouldn't say stuff like that, as I would spend every waking moment for the following month wondering and even worrying what it was. By the time my next visit came around, I was literally bursting to find out what it was, so it was over and done with, if anything else. I arrived at my gran's in record time, arriving at least quarter-of-an-hour earlier than I usually did. As soon as I arrived, I toke my usual shower to freshen up after my long bike ride. As soon as I'd finished, she ushered me into my bedroom, where she went about dressing me in my feminine wear for the evening. As she went about it, I rudely asked what my surprise was, but as usual she was going to reveal it in her own good time. She told me to be patient, and that she would reveal all tomorrow when she dressed me in the morning. I bit my lip and continued to wonder what it might be, but I knew it was s definitely something that would further my transformation into a girl. The next morning seemed to take forever to come, but it eventually did. As was our routine by then, my gran came in and woke me up and dressed me in my knickers and tights, but instead of continuing with the rest of my clothes, she stopped and told me to stay where I was while she went and got something. While I waited for her to return, I nervously fiddled with the top my tights around my waist and occasionally ran my hands down each of my legs to make sure the hose was as smooth as possible against my legs, as I hated wrinkles in them. A few minutes later she stood outside my bedroom door and told me to close my eyes and not to open them until she told me to. I did as she asked and closed my eyes. She then came into the room and asked me to hold out my arms in front of me. When the new item of clothing reached my chest and touched my skin, I realized what it was. It was a bra, my first bra. My heart sunk as she did it up on my back and pulled the straps up and onto my shoulders. I knew for a girl getting their first bra was an important moment in their lives, as it was their first step on their journey to full womanhood. My enforced feminization was now on the way to being completed. I experienced an mix of emotions at that moment, one of them being fear, wondering how far all of this was going to go, but one also of acceptance. My gran was my elder after all and knew what was best for me. Once she had finished doing the bra up, she placed something inside the cups. I only needed to feel them to know what they were; they were small, hand-sized cotton beanbags. I guess she thought they would best simulate real breasts. Then she told me to open my eyes. When I did I instantly looked down at my new item of clothing sticking out of my chest. Even though I didn't really want it, I must say it looked pretty, and felt very nice against my skin; it definitely wasn't a cheap one. It was white and had a pretty floral pattern across both cups. Then I thought my new Breasts weren't exactly Modest. I asked her why this was. She told me that I was exactly the same cup size as my mum and her. She thought she would continue that run in the family. I can remember her telling me it was a C-cup, but I can't remember the number she mentioned. She went on to say they wouldn't look so large under my clothes. Then she asked me if I liked it. I lied and said yes, but also that she shouldn't have. She replied by saying not to be silly, as for being such a good girl I deserved a treat. I simply half smiled to that. After she'd given me a good look at it, she continued to dress me in the rest of my clothes. As she did, I asked her why she hadn't given me a chest-line before now. She didn't say a word until she had finished dressing me, worrying me for a moment, but then she sat me down on my bed and sat down beside me. She put her hand on my lap and told me that she didn't want to overwhelm me with too much too soon. She understood that my full transition into womanhood should to be a gradual and delicate one, so any stress and strain on me personally would be kept to a minimum. She understood that even though I had a strong feminine side, I was still really a boy at heart and in form with masculine thoughts and feelings. So, she thought if I was transformed gradually and accepted each new addition to my evolving form before the new thing was added, I would be more accepting of it, so I would not have to be overly forced into anything if my doubts and concerns grow to a point were they would be a problem to be dealt with a firm hand. I thanked her for making my feminization as painless as possible for me and I leaned in to hug her. I can remember my fake breasts pressing into her real ones when we did, which I must say was a very strange feeling, but I knew it was something I now had to get used to if I was to keep hugging her. It was the same for all women when they hugged after all. After our hug, she asked me if I wanted to ask her anything else before we began our day. I nodded and asked her why she was doing what she was doing to me against my will by turning me into a girl. She answered by saying that she had dearly hoped that at least one of her daughters (one being my mother) had given birth to a girl, so she would have a granddaughter to fuss over and relive the childhood of her own two daughters with, as it was apparently the happiest time of her life. And while she had not planned to turn me into her granddaughter, when she saw I liked or at least didn't mind wearing her clothes, she saw her opportunity to get what she had dearly wanted and went for it, regardless of my wishes. Apparently it was all spontaneous, but I wasn't so sure. She went on to explain as I was a minor and living under her roof, she was well within her rights to do whatever she wanted to me short of committing a criminal offence upon me. I replied by telling her the truth that I was unhappy she had gone further than me just dressing in her clothes, but on the other hand I told her I would try my best to control my feelings and adhere to wishes and to try my best to adapt to my new circumstances. I went on to tell her I would work on making my feminine side my dominant one if that is really what she wanted. After saying that, she smiled, kissed and hugged me again. And she told me that I was the best granddaughter a grandmother could have, and that she loved me very much. I must say I did feel very loved at that moment. I then thought that becoming a girl maybe wasn't such a bad thing after all. And that was the only real time we talked at length about her petticoating of me. As for my new item of clothing, it did take me a while to get used to the new pressure and weight on my chest, even if it was only slight. But like everything else that was happening to me, I got used to it after a few trips. On the up side, though, after acquiring my fake breasts, my clothes, particularly my tops seemed to fit a lot better, as I suppose they were designed with a chest-line in mind. The bra also made me feel more feminine than before and boosted my confidence while dressed in the rest of the clothes, which advantageous given my plight. As the following months and trips to hers passed, I wondered when she would finally complete my feminization. My answer came six months later. Again one Sunday evening, she told me she thought I was ready for the next and final stage in my transformation. I nodded and told her I was ready. In truth I just wanted it over and done it. If it was my fate to become Caroline, then I wanted to embrace that fate without the constant wondering and worrying, as I was sick of it by then. I just wanted to be a whole, single person again, rather than someone who was stuck between being a boy and girl. At that point I would rather have been Caroline than what I was at that moment in time, but that was probably part of my gran's plan. To be concluded. Paul aka Caroline Thank you Paul for another delightful chapter in your conversion into Caroline. I'm sure our readers would love to hear more. Auntie Helga |