I have always known that I am really a girl. At first I just loved their clothes, so much prettier than mine. Then as I got older I started to feel attracted to boys. By the time I was eighteen I was entranced by their muscles and the bloom of their skin moving across their arms, their chests and thighs. I imagined their cocks inside my cunt, thrusting into me over and over again, claiming me for theirs and filling me with their sperm.
My parents had died when I was ten years old and I went to live with my Aunt Beatrice (Auntie B) in one of those tall, white, stuccoed houses near the park. Auntie B was wonderful. She loved me and I loved her; I still do, and I am so grateful for her understanding my needs.
Auntie B was an original. She was very sociable and belonged to every charitable committee and every arts and theatre group in the city. She also believed in home schooling; for most subjects she taught me herself and for lessons where she didn't feel secure, like maths and Latin, she hired tutors. People were constantly coming and going in our house and although Auntie B was often busy I was never lonely.
When I was twelve I made a momentous discovery. I started to explore the top floor of the house. It was used only for storage of unwanted furniture and other items no longer in regular use. Originally, when the house was built, these rooms would have been quarters for the legion of servants employed in such a large establishment. Now we had only cook, nanny, my aunt's personal maid, Phyllis, and two house -maids, all of whom had been with my aunt since she was a girl. Cook, Nanny and Phillis had rooms at the back of the house on the same floor as Auntie B and I, whilst the house-maids lived in a little annex in the garden.
On the first day I explored the attics I found an Aladdin's cave. All the rooms on this floor had a bed, a chair and a wardrobe but one of the larger rooms contained a bed, a full length mirror, four wardrobes and three chests of drawers and they were bursting with a collection of girls' and women's clothing going back from what I thought must be Auntie's own dresses from only a year or two ago to dresses in the styles of a century or more before. I ran my fingers against lace and silk: evening dresses, day dresses, the finest silk stockings as delicate as spiders' webs, suspender belts, exquisite panties and bras, so delicate and sensuous they were a mirage of loveliness. In the dressing table was make-up of all kinds. And all for me.
Every day I would return to marvel and to dress. I remember well the first time I pulled on a pair of stockings, the wonderful glide of silk enclosing my leg and the little surge of excitement in my cock. As I grew I was able to fit well into more and more of the clothes. By my eighteenth birthday I could wear most of the evening dresses; there was one of silver lamé, which became my favourite. I would strip entirely, then secure my cock and balls between my legs with a tight-fitting pair of pink or white silk panties trimmed with lace, with a matching bra and suspender belt. My stockings gave me such delight as I slid each leg into their whispering grip. Then I slipped the dress over my head. It clung to every adolescent curve of my body. I applied my make-up lightly and looked in the full-length mirror on it's rotating stand and, though I say it myself, I looked stunning. Auntie had let me keep my pale blond hair long and it fell in soft folds around my face, framing the wide grey eyes, the delicate nose and mouth. I was five feet ten and slim; my boy's breasts were soft with rosy nipples and they swelled the bust of the dress just enough to suggest a cleavage.
I walked back and forth through the suite of rooms, imagining I was a girl at her first ball. I danced in the arms of imaginary men who lusted after me and who ran their hands over my responding body. My cock strained to get free and after I had removed my dress I allowed myself the pleasure of imagining a man entering me. Of course I had been jerking myself off for ages but now I lay on my side and pulled my legs up so that I could reach my cunt. I licked my finger and circled my rosebud, then slowly, as she relaxed, I inserted my finger. My head jerked back in delighted surprise. I fucked myself with one then two fingers, licking them hungrily and tasting cunt for the first time, between deeper and deeper fucks. I heard someone groaning and knew it was myself. I screamed 'Fuck me, oh, please fuck me with your massive cock in my little girl cunt. Make your babies in me. I am your wife, your whore, your toy.' Jet after jet of cum leapt from my cock and covered my chest, reaching my open mouth and I slurped up the sticky, delicious, salty goo using my hands to collect and bring to my mouth all I could find, not wasting a drop.
And then I had a vision. I do not know how else to put what happened. As I lay, spent, on the bed, clad only in my stockings and suspender belt, I saw the most beautiful man in the world, shimmering like gold, but pale and indistinct. He seemed to be at once in the room but far, far away. His chest, his arms, his thighs were massive. His face was that of a young Zeus, a straight nose, blue eyes under sultry lids, a mouth exquisitely shaped but full and masculine, and golden hair, tumbling in curls about his broad brow and cheeks. He could not have been older than thirty but there was a grandeur and decision in his face any woman would have fallen on her knees to worship and I did so. He spoke and his words came to me as though from a vast distance but deep and resonant from that magnificent chest.
'You belong to me, my wonderful girl. Only my cock must enjoy your silken cunt. Come to me and I shall make you my wife, my princess. I am your husband. Remember and come.' And then the vision ended and I was alone in the garret on my knees.
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