index


Message-ID: <57013asstr$1197695403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Content-Disposition: inline
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
MIME-Version: 1.0
From: "raymond ." <raymondstories@graffiti.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Being the Girl: Part 1 (g-mast, ext-ped, mild scat)
Lines: 187
Date: Sat, 15 Dec 2007 00:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

***********************************************************************
* BEING THE GIRL: PART 1 by raymond                                   *
* STORY CODES: g-mast, extr ped, mild scat                            *
*                                                                     *
**************************** AUTHOR'S NOTE ****************************
*                                                                     *
* This story is fiction.  Yes, that's right - Fiction.  All the       *
* characters have been made up, and what follows did not actually     *
* happen.  The names are not real, and any correlations between this  *
* story and real live events are pure coincidences.  No, honestly,    *
* they are.  Although, if this has actually happened to you, I would  *
* reccomend seeing a psychologist or your local tabloid magazine!     *
*                                                                     *
* This part of the story contains images of a young girl masturbating *
* for the very first time, and that's pretty much the only sexual     *
* element of this story.  However, if you are under 18 or your        *
* reading of this ficticious story is illegal in your country or      * 
* jurisduction, or you will feel as if you will be disturbed by       *
* reading this story, then please stop now.  Otherwise, I hope you    *
* enjoy, and I urge you to leave feedback either by email or through  *
* ASSD.  Thank you.                                                   *
*************************************************** R A Y M O N D ***** 
  
I have no idea what happened to me.  When I was old enough again, I 
looked into what happened to me and I just seemed to disappear in that 
train accident.  One minute I was there, the next, it seemed, I wasn't.  
I don't remember much, just getting on that train with my friends (I was 
called Mark then), then just past Reading station there was a crash, the 
train lights went out, there was a lot of screaming, then I blacked out.
  
When I woke up, I was in unfamiliar surroundings.  It was a pink room, 
there were bars around the bed, and worse of all, I seemed to have 
spoiled myself.  I assumed that I had passed out in the accident and was 
in hospital.  I felt fine though; a little woozy though, but I felt that 
a quick walk around should help that, and if it didn't, well I was in a 
hospital and there should be plenty of doctors or nurses around to help.
  
I lifted my arm.  Odd.  It didn't look like my arm.  It was much smaller, 
and it looked out of proportion.  It couldn't have been my arm.  I 
checked to see if the chubby fingers moved when I moved my fingers.  They 
did.  Was I dreaming?  Was I still unconscious?  It certainly seemed real 
enough.  I went to speak, but nothing came out.  I shouted, but nothing 
came out.  The only noise that I could make was to cry.  So I did.
  
After a minute or so of crying, I saw a woman come in who seemed larger 
than she should have been.  She reached over the bars of the bed and 
lifted me out.  I carried on crying.
  
'Oh dear,' she said,' has my little Bethie had a little accident?'
  
I felt myself being positioned over this woman's shoulder and she carried 
me out of the room and into a bathroom.  There, I saw a mirror, and my 
reflection.
  
This definitely had to be a dream.  The reflection showed a baby, dressed 
in a pink nightdress with frills around the arms and when I moved my 
head, the baby moved hers; when I stopped crying, the baby stopped 
crying.  The woman, whom I assumed to be the baby's mother, put me down 
and pulled my dress up.  I was little doubting while I felt the woman 
change my nappy that the baby girl that I saw in the reflection was me, 
or was I the baby?  My bottom felt nice now it was clean, and warm again 
now I was wearing a fresh nappy.
  
'There you go Bethie dear,' the woman said in a singsong voice, and 
picking me up again carried me back to the pink bedroom and placed me 
back into the cot.  I lay there for a bit after she left trying to work 
out what was happening.  I must be dreaming, I thought, my brain must be 
doing something caused by the train accident.  If I went to sleep as this 
baby girl called Bethie I would wake up again as the fifteen-year-old boy 
called Mark that I was.  I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
  
When I woke up, I was still a baby.  I wasn't sure what to do.  The mind 
of a fifteen year old boy was in the body of a fifteen month old girl.  I 
was still concious, and still had all my intelligence.  I was unable to 
voice any of that - I seemed to have forgotten how to speak, I would 
probably have to relearn that - but knew exactly what was going on.  It 
was around two months after the train crash.  Eleven people died in that, 
including it seemed, myself, and three of the four friends of mine who 
came with me.  I couldn't help but wonder if they were in the same 
situation as I was.  It was many years later that I finally found out 
what actually happened with that accident.  I was a sixteen year old when 
I started to research the day of that accident, and what had happened 
with my friends and tried to find my old family.
  
In the meantime though, I had resigned to the fact that I was a baby.  
Not only that, but I was a girl.  I was quite excited about that - you 
see, when I was Mark, a fact that I kept away from everybody around me 
was that I much preferred younger girls to girls my own age.  I would 
often try to feel a girl and make it seem innocent, like playing with 
them at the park.  I would lie in bed and scheme about how I could get 
away with kidnapping and raping a girl.  I never did, but I used to 
dream.  And now I was a girl.  But I was still a boy.  Quite how I was 
going to live through life like that now I was unsure, but after the 
initial shock of it I was beginning to like it.  From now on, I was 
Bethany Ellen Williams.  I did wonder though what happened to the girl 
who Bethany was before I was her.  I would find that out in time too.
  
I enjoyed being a baby again, my new parents were nice to me, and while I 
was a baby, I was mentally old enough to enjoy the attention that only a 
baby receives.  I would cry, and somebody would come to see what I 
wanted.  When it was food, I was pleased to find that my new mother was a 
believer in breast feeding, and I loved suckling on her breasts, and much 
to my surprise the milk had a great taste.  As time went on, I was moved 
to babyfood which wasn't quite as nice.
  
One thing that I really did love about being a baby though was wearing 
nappies.  This may have been something that Mark would have found out as 
he grew older, but now I was a baby I found that I really liked the 
feeling of my shit squelching around my bottom.  And I knew that as soon 
as I got bored with it, I could cry and Mum or Dad would come to clean me 
up.  I would lie in my cot at night with my nappy full of the foul brown 
stuff and reach down and, through the nappy, rub the warm paste-like 
substance all around my bum and my tiny slit.  I loved that feeling, and 
I loved the fact that I could get away with it.  I knew that as I grew up 
I wouldn't be able to, so I would make the most of it.
  
I would use bath time as an excuse to explore my body.  There was a short 
about of masturbation in this, but I could only do it when I was not 
being watched which was seldom.  After all, although I was just an 
innocent baby girl and wouldn't have known about what I was doing, I 
think that I had to really draw the line at openly masturbating in front 
of my parents, and as I couldn't  reach into my nappy, I decided that I 
would wait until I was older before I would start masturbating.  I was 
two years old when I first masturbated properly.  By then I was walking 
and talking, could toilet and bath myself, and dress myself.  Mum and Dad 
(I never called them Mummy or Daddy as that just irritated me, and I 
never did when I was Mark so why should Beth do it?) were very impressed 
at the intelligence of their daughter as I was able to converse quite 
well for a two year old (understandable given that I had been alive for 
sixteen years).  I was still unable to do some stuff that I could before 
- some words that I knew I just couldn't say, probably because even an 
intelligent two-year-old wouldn't be able to.  It was still quite 
strange, even after a year of it, and I still wondered whether it was 
still some elaborate dream my mind had concocted while I was still 
unconscious from the train crash.
  
But anyway, my first female masturbation.  It was night, and Mum and Dad 
were in bed.  I climbed out of bed, switched my bedroom light on, took my 
nightdress off and the 'Drynite' nappy that had been put on me, and stood 
for a while, completely naked in front of the mirror that was in my 
bedroom.  I loved my female body.  I loved the feel of it, I loved the 
look of it, and I loved being in it.  And if I was still dreaming, it was 
a very vivid dream.  Still watching Beth in the mirror, I reached down 
and started to stroke my little slit, pushing my middle finger into my 
body, enjoying the feel of both my hand inside a young girl and the feel 
of somebody's hand inside of me.  I sat down on the chair that I had put 
opposite the mirror so it was easier to play with myself.  I took both 
hands and put the fingers into myself, pushing apart my pussy lips and 
looking at the red insides of me.  I started to rub myself, similar to 
how I had when I was male, feeling the same sort of feelings that I had 
before too, they just seemed to be more intense somehow.  I became more 
and more breathless as I started to rub my pussy lips harder and harder, 
imagining that Mark was licking Beth, flicking between the two people so 
sometimes I was a fifteen-year-old boy licking a two-year old girl, other 
times a two-year-old girl being licked by a fifteen-year-old boy.  It was 
one of the most fantastic experiences I had ever had, including when I 
was Mark.  When I climaxed, I had both my hands inside my body as much as 
I could, and felt what was like a little bit of pee come out of me.  I 
knew that it wasn't from knowing what I had learnt about sex when I was 
Mark.  I put my moist hand to my mouth and licked my juices off of me.  I 
had dreamt about tasting a young girls juices for years, and I was 
finally doing it with my own juices.
  
As I sat on the chair, leaning back against the back of it, recovering my 
breath, I thought about what I had just done and what would happen next.  
I had assumed when I was thinking about this before that I would probably 
be a lesbian when I grew older, after all, I was still male just in a 
female body and as I wasn't gay I still wanted to have sex with girls.  
Now I wasn't sure.  I wondered what it would be like to take a cock up my 
pussy.  I wondered what it would be like to suck somebody's cock.  I was 
thinking all these thoughts that any normal two year old wouldn't think 
and I was revelling in it.  I now believed that the change was for the 
better, and if it was a dream, I hoped I never woke up.
  
**************************************** (C) 2 0 0 7 R A Y M O N D ******
* comments welcome * * email raymondstories * at * graffiti * dot * net *
*************************************************************************


=
Dallas Real Estate Listings
Search for foreclosures, lakeside homes, golf and gated communities, home value trends, with quality lists and more.
http://a8-asy.a8ww.net/a8-ads/adftrclick?redirectid=9d7beeadc8899f5ba73b724ee0db6f99


-- 
Powered By Outblaze

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+


  index