The girl in the mirror couldn't be me. Yet when I moved, she moved, Ibrushed my hair gently behind my ear and the girl in the mirror did thesame. How ...ould my mother and sister do this to me?I was a boy; at least I thought I was. The image in the mirror told mesomething else; the image was that of a very pretty girl. My mother andsister had worked on my hair and eyebrows giving me a more feminine look.But it is my face I am looking at, my face under the slight makeup thatthey had applied. How. "Shoes too!? Why do I have to wear high heels too!?" he whined."Maybe you'll be a bit quicker when I tell you to do something next time,"she said forcefully. "Okay. You keep those heels and that bra on for therest of the day. You can take the heels off tonight for bed of course butyou'll keep that bra on." What about when I go to bed though!?" he gasped."You'll learn to sleep on your side just like a woman princess. And untilfurther notice, unless you're in the bath you'll be in that bra. More

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