Michael loved his grandmother, then he was much, much younger, he loved wearing his grandmother clothes, especially her lingerie. For he always loved to wear her lingerie are her clothes. His grandmother thought it was kind cute, and it was a shame that he was born a boy.
But his mother thought he grow out of it; she didn't want him to wear it, she never said it or told that his grandmother had a secret, a secret that his mother knew but never told anyone, even his son.But when his grandmother died, he when threw her stuff especially, her clothes and lingerie.
When he was them, they looked as they were, as they were first bought, Michael was puzzled, but didn't care. For some strange reason, Michael wanted to wear them, but they would be too small, but it strangely fit.
As he put on the panties, and brasserie, a garter belt, a pair of stocking, a pair of mules. They all strangely fit like it was he size, his hair started to get longer fuller, thicker. His nails were freshly painted. He placed a pair of pierced earrings. Which is strangled he does remember getting them pierced. Or wearing makeup.
He doesn't remember put on makeup. Before the shifting was complete.
And before he realized it, Michael saw, his mother come in.
Oh my, mother it, it can't be. NO, it's not mother. Michael, she said.
I, I think so, in a sorta feminine masculine tone.
He sounded a bit puzzled, but not shocked.
I'm, sorry, I was afraid, this could happen.
You're afraid what could happen.
Sit down, I have a story to tell you?
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