Keep Me from Being Called Aimee

It had been a dreadful week. Over the last seven days we were crisscrossing America, having come here for a six-week summer visit. My sisters Jennifer and Brianna and I landed in New York, driving across the country to see the sights along the way as we headed toward my aunt and uncle’s place in Denver’s suburbs. Unbeknownst to me, before leaving our home in England, they had repacked my suitcase so that all I owned was very feminine clothing. Thus, for the past week I traveled as a woman whom my sisters called Aimee. I wasn’t thrilled about it.

My sisters somehow knew my main goal was meeting American women. To keep me under their control, they devised this awful plan to thwart my efforts. Even though I dressed and looked like a woman, allowing me to look at others, I couldn’t do much more. Here I was seeing lots of beautiful women who gave me no second glance because they assumed I was one too.

We were supposed to meet Bob and Mary, my aunt and uncle, just before their departure for England. Jennifer talked them into believing we had been delayed on our trip due to extended sightseeing, so we wouldn’t arrive at their home until after they left. This solved the problem of three girls arriving when they expected three girls and a guy. My sisters and I knew that if we arrived to meet Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob, they would comment to mom and dad about their “three daughters.” Since genetically our parents had two daughters and a son, such a comment was bound to provoke questions. We agreed it was best for all of us to avoid those questions.

Jennifer declared today as the day for ‘Sleeping in’. We woke up considerably later than usual and sauntered down to the hotel restaurant for a leisurely breakfast. I had no doubt my sisters wanted Bob and Mary plenty of time to get out of town before we arrived at their place. We finally reached our destination in the early afternoon. After a week of travel and constant driving, it was good to be somewhere that felt like home, even temporarily.

Bob and Mary’s small home compared to some others here in America was slightly larger and more spacious than what we were used to back home. The place was neat and clean. Upon arrival, Jennifer immediately took on her motherly role and lectured Brianna and me about keeping the place picked up and looking just as it did when we walked in. I knew there would be regular daily inspections and vowed not to incur Jennifer’s wrath.

Bob and Mary had a ‘Master bedroom’ that they claimed for themselves. Jennifer and Brianna took that room too, while I was relegated to the guest bedroom. Actually, this wasn’t so bad at all; I had the room to myself. The rule about entering someone else’s bedroom clearly didn’t apply much to my sisters since they walked in unannounced, without knocking, whenever they chose.

There was a note from Bob and Mary as well. Mary had prepared several meals for us and left them in the refrigerator: roast beef, a large pan of lasagna, plus some other items. While I was thrilled about the food, I have to say I haven’t been eating as much as I used to. My sisters dressed me in a very tight, constricting corset featuring a padlock to discourage its removal. It became their morning ritual to tighten the laces so that I could barely breathe. With my stomach tightly compressed, I was no longer able to consume the quantity of food I once had; small meals became the norm.

Bob left an additional note apologizing for not having time to mow the lawn before leaving and asking me to do it for him. Naturally, not knowing about Aimee, he used my former name. He also left some cash for compensation. Jennifer quickly absconded with the money, assuring me I had no use for it and that she would ‘put it in a safe place for me.’ My sisters hadn’t allowed me to have any money since arriving in America. Being a manly job, I figured my sisters would surely allow me to skip the dresses while mowing.

The next morning I was dressed as usual, with Brianna selecting my attire. The corset and hideously large fake breasts that I wore nearly 24/7 remained in place. Since all I had were very frilly feminine dresses, those made up today’s wardrobe. The girls did make one small compensation to my look: they allowed me to trade my high heels for a pair of Bob’s old work sneakers while mowing the lawn. As soon as the mower was put away, the heels went back on. I must have looked quite a sight pushing the lawnmower in my gown; however, to my great relief none of the neighbors seemed to really notice.

Once the lawn had been mowed, Jennifer observed that we’d accumulated quite a pile of laundry during our week of travel and since my aunt and uncle had a washing machine in the basement, we would do it. Of course, I knew ‘we’ meant me. They picked out the clothing needing to be washed; I found two neat piles outside the bedroom doors.

Jennifer and Brianna connected their laptop to the internet at Aunt Mary’s house. By the time I finished preparing dinner, they were ready to gulp down food and head off for a night on the town. Having learned from past experiences regarding their driving abilities in America, they quickly appointed me as their official chauffer.

My sisters had decided during our travels that allowing me to bathe daily involved too much work removing and replacing my corset and fake breasts. As a result I only showered when necessary—every two or three days. Since working hard today made it apparent I really needed one, I was quickly unlocked and unlaced into the master bathroom.

Brianna picked my attire again; she has a knack for choosing clothes that maximize humiliation. This time she outdid herself by selecting the longest skirt in my wardrobe—a creation of her own hand assembled personally—which referred to as a ‘Hobble skirt’ extending down to my knees. The material wrapped tightly around my thighs and upper legs so I could barely move them at all. With this skirt on, walking locomotion was achieved primarily from movement below the knee. Forced almost constantly into high heels further heightened my torment. A zipper ran about ¾ of the way up from the hemline toward the waist in the back of the skirt. When closed, the tab met a small D-ring sewn inside with a luggage lock completing this union to assure the zipper would remain shut.

“Closed for now,” Brianna had said. She left the zipper wide open, a concession that gave me enough room to handle driving.

To match the skirt, she’d picked out the only sweater in my wardrobe. I despised it because it was at least two sizes too small. The sleeves were long enough, but the body clung tightly to mine, highlighting every unnatural bump, bulge, and curve that my sisters had imposed on me. Wearing a tight corset, huge fake breasts, a restrictive skirt, and this skin-tight sweater, I felt like a strong breeze could knock me over from the off-balance created by my heavy chest. Instinct told me I was in deep trouble.

On the drive to Denver, Jennifer explained that I had already been acting enough of a slut for her liking, so she didn’t want any flirting with other men. Actually, knowing myself, I knew this wouldn’t be much of an issue from my side. She also warned me that only one type of woman would really bother talking to another woman in a place like the club. Again, I quickly caught on and promised myself a solitary evening.

We didn’t take long reaching the nightclub my sisters had researched all day. As soon as we parked, Brianna met me at the door before I could get out. She pulled down the zipper of my skirt and locked it with a small luggage-style padlock. Now that the skirt was closed, I had to lift myself up using my arms and the car door to stand. Walking became a slow, clumsy affair. My sisters stayed dutifully by my side as we navigated into the club and found our table.

Once inside, my sisters quickly left me. As expected, men began emerging from everywhere, slithering out of hiding spots wherever they had been lurking. Giving off the vibe of a lone damsel in distress—because I was just sitting there—I became the center of attention for nearly every man in the building, maybe even the whole city.

Suddenly, I got an enlightened view of what my sisters meant when they accused me of thinking with my dick a week ago. Their guess about its size was way off, though. Every single one of these guys was clearly ‘thinking with their dicks.’ If only they knew what lay in store beneath this Trojan horse package. Fortunately, over the past week I had practiced and developed a fairly acceptable, slightly higher-pitched feminine voice to keep my secret hidden. I used it to brush off as many men as possible.

One bold guy just sat himself down at my table. Naturally, I immediately asked him to move, saying those seats were taken and reserved for my sisters. He simply said he’d vacate them when they returned. Of course, Jennifer and Brianna weren’t in sight anywhere. This man proceeded to annoy me for about five minutes, which felt like an eternity. Then suddenly both Jennifer and Brianna appeared and quite rudely told him to get lost. Caught completely off guard before he could say a word, my sisters started calling the manager while Jennifer snapped his picture with her phone. Not wanting trouble, the guy jumped up from his seat and quickly vanished into the crowd.

Jennifer turned to me with a gentle smile and whispered, “I warned you about that, slut; don’t make me have to do it again.” After a few minutes at the table, both Jennifer and Brianna found other guys each and disappeared back into the crowd.

My humiliation was more intense than anything I had ever endured. The men just wouldn’t leave me alone. Many kept coming back repeatedly despite my best efforts to discourage them. My sisters were no help at all since they were off with their own partners, enjoying themselves thoroughly. Other women in the club also had eyes on the men and mostly ignored me. There was one woman who seemed genuinely interested in me. I knew from the moment I saw her that she didn’t realize what I really was, so I wasn’t exactly what she wanted either. Of course, she had no clue, and I had to fend her off as well.

The evening dragged on for days. Finally, Jennifer and Brianna returned to my table and announced it was time for me to drive them home. I couldn’t be happier to leave that place in my entire life. Once we got back to the car, Brianna removed the small padlock and unzipped my skirt so I could drive us home. The trip back was quite quick since it was early morning with almost no other cars on the road. We were all exhausted and fell into bed as soon as we arrived. I never want to go clubbing again!

The next day or two passed slowly, mostly spent around the house. I had basically become the Cinderella figure at home, responsible for cooking, cleaning, and so on. With a bit more leisure time, Jennifer took the car out around the neighborhood and eventually figured out how to drive reasonably well on the right side of the road. Thus, I lost that small amount of control I’d enjoyed as the designated driver.

Once she gained confidence driving, Jennifer took Brianna shopping. Naturally, while my sisters were gone, I considered sneaking into their room to find some of Uncle Bob’s clothes. Unfortunately, there were several problems with this plan. First, knowing them well enough, I knew they had set a trap and would know if I even opened that door. Second, my corset and hideous fake breasts were locked onto me so tightly I couldn’t take them off. Even if I found Bob’s pants, they probably wouldn’t fit anyway. Plus, I had no money and nowhere to go. I had to face facts: although I was technically free, I was trapped!

The girls hadn’t wasted their shopping trip time. When they got home, my sisters called me into the living room and presented a gift they’d bought for me. I opened the box with considerable trepidation. I wasn’t surprised but still horrified to find a pink and white French maid outfit inside. I mean, it was horrible—frilly, with a very short revealing tutu-like skirt and a little white apron. There was even a really silly-looking hat that wouldn’t stay on unless fastened to my hair with bobby pins. The girls were all excited and insisted I try it on immediately right there in the living room. It looked terrible! But it also fit.

From then on, I had to put on my maid outfit every morning when I woke up to make breakfast for my sisters. As you might guess, that uniform stayed on until I finished all my daily chores and Jennifer completed her daily house inspection. Only then could I change into another dress chosen by Brianna.

I discovered a small park just down the street from our house. It was about a block and a half away, but in high heels it was quite a substantial walk for me. My sisters didn’t seem to mind my taking this kind of walk during free time as long as the beds were made, the house was clean, and everything else was orderly. I developed something of a habit walking up to the park each day just to get some fresh air and time alone.

One day, while sitting on the park bench resting before heading back, another girl about my age came by. We said ‘Hello’ to each other and somehow struck up a conversation as she sat down next to me. She told me her name was

Hi Leah. Since I had only been a girl for less than two weeks, and this was really my first real conversation with another girl other than my sisters, which really didn’t count, I wasn’t sure what girls talk about when they were alone, so I let Leah guide the conversation wherever she wanted. She immediately noticed my British accent and asked where I was from. We talked about our homes, places we had been, and eventually about boys. It certainly didn’t escape my notice that Leah was beautiful. Not only that, but she seemed to be a genuinely nice person that was easy to talk to. Of course, one major problem was that she thought that I was a girl, which definitely put a crimp in any romantic intentions that I might have been feeling for her, and there definitely were some feelings in that direction. Leah talked about a boyfriend that she had broken up with a while back. It seems from the way she described him that all he was interested in was touching her body and trying to get her into bed with him. I could certainly see where he was coming from; since I could easily picture her long blond tresses spread out around her head on the pillow next to mine myself. Somehow, the way she described the relationship I found myself sympathizing with her in a way that I would never have imagined. Having endured my experience at the nightclub just a few days ago certainly gave me a new perspective on this sort of thing. I guess men can be really insensitive some times without even realizing it. I told Leah about my boyfriend. Well, he was really embodied as a girl that I had been going out with back in England. The whole thing made some sick sort of sense if you considered that I was now a girl, and then she had to be a guy… Well, I’ll admit that there was a role reversal and I used a great deal of latitude, and even made some of the stuff up. Well, at least it all sounded good to me at the time, and I was quite sure that Leah was buying it too, because she seemed to be agreeing with me. Before I even realized it seems that several hours had passed. When I realized how late it had become I knew that I had to rush home to prepare dinner for my sisters. Leah said that she came to the park often, and we agreed that it would be nice to talk with each other again at the next opportunity. I didn’t mention Leah to my sisters when I arrived home. I wasn’t sure if they would approve of my having met and talked with anyone, and I desperately wanted to talk with Leah again, even if she did think that I was a girl. Perhaps that even made our relationship better somehow. The next morning Jennifer announced that the house needed a thorough cleaning because she and Brianna would be entertaining guests that evening. I didn’t really see the need for the house cleaning since I had kept the house in spotless condition since we had arrived. Nevertheless, Jennifer insisted that everything be cleaned and dusted again. Dinner was to be served in the dining room using aunt Mary’s fancy china and good crystal. Of course, I was elected to cook and serve the meal, which would consist of soup and salad, Prime rib, surrounded with shrimp, and apple pie with ice cream for desert. Jennifer had even purchased a bottle of deep red Pommard wine, (A robust, tannic burgundy) which seemed to feature a dead rat on the label. It didn’t taste all that bad though. After cleaning the house, I was once again bathed, my makeup was done to perfection, my hair was fixed as well as the girls could get it, and my maid’s uniform was freshly laundered. It was around 6:30 Pm when two guys showed up at the door. My sisters, having trained me how to curtsy as I opened the door, insisted that I greet the guests at the door and allow them entry. If I had thought the humiliation at the nightclub had been bad, this was even worse! It wouldn’t have been quite so bad except for when Jennifer introduced everyone. When she got to me she said “And this is my brother, he likes to be called Aimee.” At that point I got the signal to curtsey for them again. Actually, I wanted to crawl into a hole someplace, while everyone else got a good laugh at my expense. Finally everyone sat down to dinner. To be more accurate, my two sisters and their dates sat down to dinner while I served. As I had been instructed, I served the salad, followed by the French onion soup. Then came the main course, with a generous medallion of prime rib, which I billed as chateaubriand, surrounded by shrimp, and a baked potato on the side surrounded with baby peas. Of course, the wine was served with this course. I made a big presentation of displaying the label on the bottle to Jennifer’s date for his approval. Then after uncorking the bottle and presenting him with the cork I served a tiny portion for his approval. He seemed to be thrilled with all of this attention as the others watched the show with great interest. I honestly don’t think that either of the two guys had ever seen this type of thing done before. I knew that my sisters had witnessed such a ritual in some of the better restaurants that we had visited, and Jennifer skillfully prompted her date as to what was expected of him. I have to admit that it did give me some pleasure in demonstrating that I knew a little more about fine dining than these clowns, even if I was demonstrating it from the serving side. Coffee was served with the desert of hot apple pie doused with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a spoonful of whipped cream. I made it look even a little more fancy by dribbling some chocolate syrup over the top, and garnishing it with a cherry. There was some sort of subtle message there for the girls, but I’m not sure if they caught it or not. By the time that the diners had finished with desert I had most of the dinner dishes rinsed and stacked in the dishwasher. Jennifer suggested that I fix myself a plate of food and take it to my room where I was to remain for the rest of the evening. I had expected that this would be the case, and had prepared for such an eventuality by having a plate of food ready for my departure. I was certainly glad to see that there were only my two sisters for breakfast the next morning. It would have been horrible having to face those two bozos again in the morning. My sisters seemed to be bright and bubbly when the finally arose much later than was their custom. That afternoon I was off to the park again hoping to meet my new friend Leah. It seems that Leah and I had the same idea as we both arrived at the park within minutes of each other. Once again we talked for quite a while. Leah was making plans and preparing to go off to college in a few weeks. Leah talked about a number of different things. As she did so I realized that I had developed somewhat of an affection for her. Unfortunately, I knew that our relationship would never amount to much as long as she thought that I was a girl. Unfortunately I also realized that it was already far too late to tell her the truth. Leah jabbered on as I daydreamed about what I knew would never be between us. I also found that I couldn’t take my eyes off of Leah’s breasts. In my mind I reached out and fondled both of them. Before I realized what was happening it suddenly dawned on me that I had agreed to go to the mall with Leah the next day. My mind started to race as I tried to figure out how I would tell my sisters about this, and get them to agree to let me go. I started to panic, and began to explain to Leah that I had to get my sisters permission before I could go to the mall with her. Leah said that she understood, and gave me her telephone number in case there was a change in our plans. I didn’t know how to explain to Leah that my sisters wouldn’t let me near a telephone, much less use one. She said that she would pick me up at my house around 11:Am tomorrow morning. I schemed and planned during my entire trip home trying to figure out the best way to tell my sisters about Leah and our plans. By the time I arri

When I got home I still wasn’t sure what to do. Jennifer asked where I’d been and what I was up to, so I just spilled the whole tale about meeting Leah and how she wanted me to go to the mall with her tomorrow. You could see Jennifer wasn’t entirely convinced by this new development right away. Then Brianna walked in and picked up on my story. She found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. It never occurred to me that Brianna would become my ally, but it seemed she understood the irony of my relationship with Leah perfectly.

“We had our boyfriends over recently,” Brianna sympathized. “It’s only fair we let him go out with his girlfriend.” She really seemed to get how frustrating things were for me. Not that I thought she felt much pity; rather, it was a kind of sadistic enjoyment she was getting from the whole thing. Still, thanks to Brianna’s support, Jennifer quickly agreed and allowed me to head to the mall. She even offered to give me some cash so I could buy lunch. It might not sound like a lot, but until then, I hadn’t been given any money of my own. Occasionally one of them would toss me a dollar or two for coffee or tampons, but they always expected their change back when I returned.

The next morning I woke up early to make sure all the chores were done before Leah arrived. Brianna had chosen a short, frilly dress specifically for me, and I could tell they’d put extra effort into my hair and makeup. Naturally, both Jennifer and Brianna were there to greet Leah when she finally showed up. My sisters looked her over quickly, and any doubts about letting me go with her vanished instantly. I knew I was in deep trouble the moment I saw her. She was wearing a halter-top that looked like it might burst under the strain if she bent over, showcasing those gorgeous breasts.

The girls exchanged greetings, and although no one said much outright, it became very clear to my sisters that Leah genuinely believed I was a girl and that we were going out for an afternoon of shopping. Brianna couldn’t hide her little sadistic grin. Leah probably wouldn’t have noticed, but knowing Brianna’s expressions well enough, I definitely saw it. Jennifer played the doting mother figure perfectly, making sure she knew exactly where we were headed and when to expect us back. Even she managed a dig, warning us not to pick up any boys on the way. I’m sure Leah took it as just a passing remark—probably something her own mom had told her before leaving home—but this was different, and I knew precisely what kind of jab Jennifer was throwing at me.

At the mall, naturally, Leah wanted to stop in every clothing and shoe store. I knew I’d have to pretend interest in dresses too. I browsed through them and, urged on by Leah, even went into the fitting room with a couple to try them on. I managed the charade well enough: standing around for a bit before coming out to announce that the fit wasn’t quite right. Of course, since my sisters had been dressing me ever since I became a girl, I’d never really worried about sizes; whatever they picked was what I wore. That usually worked fine until Leah and I started looking at clothes together. Like any proper girl, she knew her size perfectly. When she asked mine, it caught me off guard, and I stammered out some numbers that sounded plausible. Fortunately, I managed to claim that British sizes differ slightly from American ones, so I wasn’t entirely sure of the equivalents. It was a bit embarrassing.

Eventually we ended up in the food court, where we both bought lunch. This marked the first time my sisters had let me keep any money since I became a girl. Brianna had slipped a wallet into my purse containing $20 in various bills. My purse also held some makeup, a hairbrush, about two feet of prophylactics strung together, and several tampons. I felt ready for anything.

What caught me off guard was having Leah’s breasts staring at me while we ate. I wanted to reach out and touch them. Sure, I have huge breasts too, but Leah’s are real! They looked so soft and inviting. I just couldn’t look away. It seemed impossible to tell Leah my secret without her thinking it was all my idea and that I was some kind of pervert. She’d never believe my sweet sisters had forced me into this. Honestly, I didn’t blame her for that assumption. If she did realize the truth, though, there was a good chance we wouldn’t see each other again. I started fantasizing about what it would be like if Leah and I got involved in some sort of lesbian relationship. Yet even then, I doubted such a thing could work long-term. I didn’t think Leah would ever really go for the lesbian lifestyle, and even if she did, my secret—with all its disastrous consequences—would likely come out quickly. Another issue was that I had no real idea how to handle a lesbian affair since I’d never experienced one before.

How on earth did I end up in such a mess? Here I was exactly where I had dreamed of being ever since this trip was first planned. Alone with a beautiful American girl whom I found myself genuinely fond of, and perhaps she felt the same for me—or at least she might if she knew I was truly male, which she doesn’t. Life is so mixed up, confusing, and unfair! I hated my sisters for putting me through this, and I hated myself even more for being here.

After finishing lunch and leaving the food court, I bought a chocolate ice cream cone to drown my sorrows in sweets. The chocolate did help somewhat. It makes you wonder if women really do have something special when it comes to their universal love of chocolate. I began to suspect that perhaps ‘that time’ had come for me too.

The idea of stopping at a motel on the way home crossed my mind as well. I could picture myself entering our room and ripping the clothes off Leah, exposing her soft, supple body which seemed so hidden beneath her garments. Unfortunately, my sisters ensured that I didn’t have quite enough money to rent a motel room. Plus there was the other issue: we were both female, and neither of us is a lesbian.

When I got back home, Jennifer and Brianna wanted every detail about ‘My date,’ as they called it. I tried making clear that it wasn’t anything big; just two girls going shopping at the mall. My sisters didn’t exactly buy into that story completely, but I stuck to my guns, acted as casually as possible, and insisted absolutely nothing happened. In a way, this was true enough. Brianna especially seemed skeptical of my account and kept digging for details: ‘Didn’t you find any dresses you liked?’ ‘Did you try any on?’ Being a real girl gave her the advantage; she knew exactly what should have happened during such a trip. For the most part, her guesses were spot-on. As a woman, Brianna also seemed to understand my male psyche well enough, coming close to guessing my feelings toward Leah. Of course, I did my best to mislead her and avoid confirming anything. I stuck to my story as well as I could, revealing very few details. Naturally, I omitted mentioning my frustration regarding Leah.

“Same here,” I said regarding our lunch. I only talked about the food, nothing else. The chocolate ice cream never came up. Brianna knew there was a part of my story she could only imagine. I figured her imagination ran wilder than the truth, and I vowed to keep that secret from her. After our mall trip, I saw Leah several more times in the park. When it was time for her to head off to college, I cried real tears. Leah did too as we said goodbye. I loved being a girl who could show her emotions freely at such moments. If only Leah had truly known what those feelings were. I often wondered how things might have been between us if she’d met me as the guy I really was. I hated living life as a female! My sisters’ boyfriends came over to our house quite a bit too. As before, I served them. None of these guys impressed me much, and I started realizing that my sisters weren’t very serious about most of them; they were mostly just having fun. After my ‘Date’ with Leah, the girls tried to set me up with other women so I might develop an interest in one. I knew Leah had been something special, and it seemed unlikely I’d meet another girl like her. Eventually, especially after Leah left for college, I grew a bit more comfortable being a girl. It wasn’t that I liked the idea much; there just weren’t other options. Uncle Bob’s clothes were stored in the master bedroom, and they wouldn’t fit me anyway. Plus, my breasts were locked on permanently, and that cursed corset was an over-the-bust style, also secured shut. Even if I had managed to get some male clothing back, it wouldn’t help much given the body shape I now presented. Once Leah left for college, I stopped going to the park as often. There didn’t seem to be anything there for me anymore. Soon enough, it was time for us to leave too. Jennifer decided she wanted to visit Las Vegas, which happened to be in the opposite direction of where we were headed originally. Consequently, we had to depart several days earlier than planned. We all wanted the house spotless and tidy for my aunt’s return upon our arrival home. Thanks to Jennifer’s somewhat bossy advice, I’d been cleaning daily, so there wasn’t too much left to do before we left. Still, Jennifer insisted everything be redone just to be sure. Floors needed scrubbing, dusting and vacuuming throughout the house, mowing the lawn, plus countless other chores. Naturally, with both sisters supervising, I was in charge of doing it all. It took us three days—me working while they watched—to finish. Aunt Mary had left plenty of prepared meals for when we got back from our trip, and my sisters insisted we do the same for them upon their return. Of course, cooking became my job again, with Jennifer and Brianna packaging everything up and adding fancy garnishes. We packed the car the night before leaving. It was a twelve-hour drive to Las Vegas. We crossed over the Rocky Mountains, enjoying some truly beautiful scenery along the way. We stopped in Green River, a town out in the middle of nowhere for gas and lunch; surprisingly, we found a decent restaurant there. Our next stop was Mesquite, just across the Arizona-Nevada border. Since gambling is legal in Nevada, this town boasted several large casinos. It was another hundred miles until we reached Las Vegas proper. By the time we arrived in Las Vegas, I was tired, but the lights and sounds of the casinos—which you had to walk through to reach your hotel room or any restaurant—really seemed to wake you up and boost adrenaline. The legal gambling age in Nevada is 21, so Brianna and I were a bit too young for that. It wasn’t entirely my thing, though undoubtedly I would have liked trying the slot machines if I’d had the chance or money. I could tell Brianna was really excited about it, ready to jump into the action at the first opportunity. The casino staff seemed used to dealing with our situation; they were friendly and polite but firm in keeping us away from the gambling floors. Jennifer also faced restrictions while she was there. We checked into our room, freshened up—meaning we went to the bathroom and fixed makeup—and then headed down for dinner. The big dining draw in Las Vegas is the buffets, so that’s where we went. It became clear Jennifer wanted to gamble but couldn’t do much with Brianna and me hovering nearby. We agreed that Brianna and I would explore on our own while Jennifer tried to win us a nice pile of cash. There was plenty to see in Las Vegas even if you were too young to bet. Each casino had its own theme, each more grand than the last. Brianna and I returned to the hotel quite late. The casino was still buzzing as hard as when we left. Inside, day turns into night seamlessly; places run 24/7 without pause. With a bit of coaxing, we managed to round up Jennifer and dragged her back upstairs with us. Glad to hear she hadn’t lost everything, though apparently, we weren’t quite hitting the ‘Big bucks’ yet either. I think Jennifer had been more than willing to make sacrifices and give it all in hopes of achieving that goal overnight. Brianna and I convinced her that for once, we were happy to skip our chance at becoming millionaires—or at least sisters to one. We traveled around the country for another week, seeing some really neat sights. I won’t bore you with every detail. We were just three girls traveling together, and by now, while I still wasn’t totally thrilled about it, I had resigned myself to being a girl. It wasn’t until we arrived in Atlanta, ready to fly back to England the next morning, that we stopped at a large Wal-Mart. Finally, for the first time since starting this trip, my sisters let me enter the men’s department. They picked out pants and a shirt for me. Even though it came from the men’s section, the shirt still looked more feminine than what I’d buy myself. Still, no complaints about finally holding onto a pair of pants. They also bought shoes. Apparently, the clothes I wore on the flight over had ended up in a dumpster almost as quickly as I shed them to shower. I couldn’t believe I might actually get to wear men’s clothing again soon. The next morning, my sisters removed the padlocks from my corset and brassiere, allowing me to take off my breasts. After showering, I was quite surprised to find feminine underwear laid out on the bed. “We don’t want you suffering shock from such a radical change,” Brianna snickered. “Besides, you wouldn’t dare tell Mom and Dad while wearing your girly undies,” Jennifer added. I knew—or at least sincerely hoped—that my parents never found out about what happened on this trip. At least I certainly wasn’t going to tell them, praying my sisters would do the same. I was somewhat concerned that the girls had spent considerable time plucking and trimming my eyebrows to make them look more feminine. Besides, I no longer have a single hair below my neck! I could only hope and pray Mom and Dad didn’t notice any of that! The flight home was rather

It was a smooth journey. Many hours later, the plane swooped down for its landing attempt at Heathrow airport. I don’t mind so much that it’s hurtling through the sky at more than 550 mph; what really gets to me is the possibility of such an abrupt halt when we reconnect with the ground. Luckily, the pilot’s expertise shone through once again as we pulled safely into our gate. We breezed through customs and were reunited with mom and dad.

As soon as Jennifer spotted them, she threw her arms wide and yelled “Daddy!” while sprinting over. I was certain she was putting on her little girl performance, which she adores doing for mom and dad. Brianna, whose hair is dark, offered a blank, slightly dazed expression—the classic dumb blonde look—as she went to greet them too. Mom and dad definitely wouldn’t believe that these two seemingly innocent girls had done anything noteworthy during our trip. To add to the chaos, my aunt and uncle returned home to discover a pristine house and several delicious meals waiting for them. Naturally, everyone assumed credit for this went entirely to my sisters. I couldn’t even consider revealing the truth about living as a girl for those six weeks without fearing they’d think it was all my idea from the start.

Mom remarked on how much she appreciated my shirt. She also noted that I seemed to have lost a pound or two, suggesting I looked good at this new weight. Somehow, my shaped eyebrows and bare skin managed to escape their immediate attention.

Back home, I hurried to my room and checked the drawers and closets. All of my male belongings were still there. Even my underwear! Trust me, I’ve developed a fresh appreciation for these garments. I hope never to have another dress forced upon me again.

Occasionally, my sisters seem to enjoy casually dropping something like “Oh Aimee…” Naturally, I respond as if they’re still pulling the strings in my life. It irritates me when they do that. Please stop calling me Aimee.