"In The First Flower of Womanhood"
Part 1

By Priscilla O'Farrell
APRIL 1964--It was the last Friday in April, the day before my girlfriend Kathleen's ballet recital. We had just left school (7th grade) and were standing outside.

"I know you want to come to my recital, Carl", my redhead friend said, "but Madame K. doesn't allow boys your age into her recitals because of that disruption last year."

"I has nothing to do with that! She's being unfair! And she's also being unfair to Wendy's friend Richard."

"I can't do anything about that, I wish I could, but I'll ask my Aunt Helen. I think she can get you into the recital. Give me a call before 9 tonight."

"OK, thanks, please do what you can. Anyway, do well tomorrow."

We hugged, then I watched her walk away. There was no mistaking the fact that Kathleen was a dancer; perhaps it's better to say that she flowed instead of walked. I waited until she turned a corner, then headed for my Aunt Jeanette's apartment.

My mom & (step)dad were away for the weekend, ergo I was staying with Aunt Jeanette, my biological father's oldest sister. In many ways the taller than average redhead was ahead of her time. In her late twenties she was already executive secretary for a large supermarket chain. She was also a vegetarian, and a good chess player. She was never married; I wondered about that, but I thought it best not to ask why.

After one of her great meals, and after I finished my homework, it was time for a game of chess. I
won for the first time! Then she asked me, "Remember what we discussed last time?"

"Yes, I do, but I haven't thought about it much. I've been concentrating on Kathleen. She said she'll ask her Aunt Helen about--omygosh, what time is it?"


"I have to phone her right away!" I dialed the number she gave me. After two rings she picked up.


"Hello, Kathleen, this is Carl. Did you ask your Aunt Helen?"

"I did, and she'll help you get into the recital. You have to be at her place by 9 AM."

I wrote down the address & said, "I'll be there. Please tell her I said thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Carl. Sweet dreams."

It was only after I hung up that I thought of saying, "They'll be of you."

I gave Aunt Jeanette the good news, then she agreed to another game of chess...only I had other things on my mind during this one!

Next morning I went to Miss Helen's house. Upon arrival I saw a short, blond woman in a pearl gray suit standing outside the two-story building. She smiled at me.

"Good morning, young man. Are you Carl?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am. Are you Miss Helen?"

"No, Carl, I'm Miss Ingrid, one of her upstairs neighbors. She asked me to wait out here for you. The door to her downstairs apartment is open."

"Thank you, Miss Ingrid."

I walked into the apartment's living room. On a wall I saw pictures of Miss Helen and Kathleen, and only of them. (Several years later I would realize the resemblance between Miss Helen & Gates McFadden of "Trek:TNG.)

After a few moments a female voice called, "Carl, is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am".

"Please have a seat. I'll be there soon."

I sat where I could look at the photos. Seconds later I heard the sound of high heels on the floor.
Then Miss Helen entered the room. I rose, and then I saw what she was wearing.

"Good morning, Carl" the lady said, smiling a very pretty smile.

Miss Helen's gloved hands were on her curvaceous hips. Her feet were in red stilettoes, her legs were in fishnet stockings held by black garters to a red and black corset. Her auburn hair framed her perfectly made up face and flowed towards her breasts. Of course I had seen pictures like this, but seeing a woman in the flesh...

"Feel free to look at me, Carl. Both of us know you want to!"

"Y-yes, ma'am, I do. You're very pretty, ma'am."

"Thank you", she said as she curtseyed. "I like your politeness in saying ma'am, but I want you to call me Miss Helen. Is that clear?"

"Yes...Miss Helen", I replied.

"Now we are friends", she said as we shook hands. "How may I help you, friend?"

"Well. friend, I want to see Kathleen dance, but her teacher doesn't allow boys my age into the recitals. But she said you can get me in there."

"I am THE lady who can do that, Carl. You'll have to wear a suit."

"A suit? OK, I'll go home and put on--"

"No, Carl, you probably don't own the kind of suit you MUST wear today. It's on the outside of that closet."
I turned eyes left & saw a suit consisting of a dark blue jacket...AND A SKIRT!

"Miss Helen, that's a girl's suit!"

"It's what a girl wears to her friend's recital. Since Madame K. prohibits boys, the only way you can get in is if you're dressed as a girl."


"Really." After a few seconds she asked, "Do you like that idea, Carl?"

I walked over, took down the suit, and held it against me. "No, I do not like the idea...I LOVE IT!"


"Really! I like girls, especially Kathleen, and women, especially my mom and my
favorite aunt, very much, and I often dream about being female for a short time. I put on my mom's clothes, or my aunt's clothes when I visit her place. That's when nobody's around, of course!"

"Of course! And how do you look in them?"

"Not so good", I sighed. "I like how they feel on me, but without a wig and makeup I look like a boy in a dress."

"You'll look nothing like a boy when I'm done with you, Carl. Or is that Carla?"

"It's Priscilla, whenever I put on female things."

"Very well, Master Priscilla--"

"Master Priscilla?"

"You'll be called Master Priscilla until the makeover is complete, then you'll be Miss Priscilla."

"I'm looking forward to that, Miss Helen."

"I am, too, dear, and so is Kathleen. Now, I want you to please shed every stitch of male clothing and put on this frilly pink negligee, then go and take a shower."

I didn't need to be asked twice!

By the time I finished my shower Miss Helen had put on a blouse and skirt and had girl's clothes on the living room sofa. She had also covered a full-length mirror with a blanket.

I looked at my new clothes. "They look wonderful, Miss Helen. I only hope I can do them justice."

"You will, Master Priscilla, with help from me, of course!"

Then there was a knock on the door.

"That'll be my upstairs neighbors, Miss Helga and Miss Ingrid. They want to watch your makeover. They're very supportive of my work."

"That's fine, Miss Helen. In doing something like this I need all the support I can get."

She opened the door. "Come in, ladies, please say hello to Carl, now Master Priscilla, whom I'm changing into Miss Priscilla."

"I met Master Priscilla before", Miss Ingrid remarked. "I like what you're wearing now."

"So do I, Miss Ingrid" I replied.

Miss Helga, the blue-suited taller lady, asked, "Did your mother or an aunt bring you here, dearie?"

"No, Miss Helga," I replied, and then I explained why I was there.

"That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "My friend Miss Helen is indeed the lady who can transform you into a charming girl. And Miss Ingrid & I want to watch."

Before I could respond, the lady removed a $5 bill from her pocketbook. "We're willing to pay you."
"You are?"

"We are. Watching Miss Helen turn a girl into a young lady is the second favorite thing Miss Ingrid & I like to do."

"What's the first?" I asked.

"Watching her turn a BOY into a charming young lady", Miss Ingrid laughed.

I asked Miss Helen to hold the money for me. Five dollars was a lot for a 12 year old boy in 1964, & I didn't want to have to explain my sudden wealth! She put the bill into an envelope & wrote CARL in blue ink on the outside. Then she crossed that out and wrote PRISCILLA in pink crayon. I was pleased with that!

"And now, Master Priscilla, it's time to dress you", Miss Helen announced.


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