Words tumbling out, jumbled together, intermixed with apology after apology, Brian tried to hold the nightshift up in front of his naked body. Changing tactics, he tried to pull it back and managed to get it tangled around one of his arms. In front of him, Mrs Emcie took him by surprise by telling, “Hey, hey. It’s all right, dear,” before reaching out and drawing him in with the most comforting hug he’d ever been embraced in.
The woman gently running her hand through his hair she whispered, “Shhh,” over and over. Feeling a shame wash over him Brian leaned against the woman and allowing her to comfort him, he realised that at some point he’d started crying and that the nightshirt was now pressed between them, partially covering his front, but still wound around his arm.
Slowly getting a hold of himself, though finding the ashamed and embarrassed feeling wouldn’t leave him, Brian sniffed and listened as Mrs Emcie asked, “Now, what do you mean that you ruined the shirt? Do you mean ruined like you’ve ripped it? Or ruined it like you made a delicate mess,” and Brian, looking up at the woman, seeing that she was smiling kindly, struggled to explain.
The words failing him, Mrs Emcie asked, “A delicate mess? That’s understandable. Cassie just had her first period,” and stepping back, she reached down and withdrew a blue box from underneath the sink.
It suddenly dawning on Brian on what she was talking about when she meant a delicate mess, he quickly shook his head. Remembering that Bethany had stored the same product in the closet, Brian explained, “No, it’s not that,” and fumbling for the proper words, he eventually blurted out, “It’s different,” and struggling to talk, the embarrassment he was feeling doubling, Brian hastily tried to explain whilst showing Mrs Emcie the part of the garment that had been pressed against his bum.
The smile never leaving her, Mrs Emcie put the box back and asked, “Is this the first time this happened?”
Unsure how to answer, hugging himself, Brian eventually nodded, looked away and felt himself blushing. In front of him, Mrs Emcie reached down and took another box out from under the sink. Setting the pink box on the sink, she explained, “I’ll be right back,” and leaving the room, Brian wondered what was in the box, which he noted was a product from a company called Delicate and Discreet.
Before he could figure out what the box held, Mrs Emcie was back, holding a shirt and a black pair of pants that Brian thought looked like leggings. Listening as the woman explained, “What I almost forgot, and what I came in here for, was I was going to offer you a change of clothes. Stuff that Cassie no longer wears, mostly because she’s outgrown them,” as Brian almost told her that he wasn’t going to wear girl’s clothes, but stopped himself as he realised how ridiculous such a comment would be as his mind asserted that he’d worn girl’s clothes all his life.
Mrs Emcie setting the clothes on the sink, she continued by telling him what was happening was normal, was called vaginal discharge, how it happened to every girl as their body transitioned to womanhood and summed up the whole thing by saying, “It’s perfectly normal. It means your internal workings are doing what they are supposed to do and in about six months to a year you’ll probably get your first period,” which only deepened further the embarrassment and shame Brian was feeling.
When the woman had finished saying what the contents of the box where for, which Brian learned they were called panty liners and that he could apply it to the middle inside the leggings, “Right where this white oval is, dear,” Mrs Emcie said whilst holding up the leggings and showing him the crotch area on the inside, he muttered a thanks. Picking up the box, examining it, noting it had a slight sweet smell to it that reminded him of baby powder, he listened as Mrs Emcie said, “Why don’t you take a shower? You feel better after freshening up before breakfast,” to which he nodded and mumbled, “I think I’ll do that. Thank you,” as the woman excused herself and left the bathroom.
Alone, he set the box of panty liners back on the sink, peered at the clothes and thought, “This is too much,” and looking to the mirror, he mentally told himself, “I’m not a girl,” which he decided was one of the most preposterous things he’d ever assumed and turning to the tub, he tossed the nightshirt into a nearby hamper and started running the taps.
When the water felt warm enough, he engaged the shower portion and climbing under the spraying water, he stood there for a moment. The water feeling great running through his hair and against his skin, Brian turned his face so that it was receiving the full blast of water. Shifting a little, he first let it hit his neck then his breasts. The instant the water struck the two small, tender and sensitive lumps of barely-there flesh, he gasped at how great it felt. Suddenly feeling turned on, Brian shivered and stepped back out of the streaming water.
He’d always known that Bethany loved feeling the water pulsing against her skin, as he’d taken showers with her, plus she’d explained to him once why she loved to take long showers after he’d asked. But now, feeling the water striking his skin, especially his breasts, he found he understand what Bethany meant. Disturbed by this sudden bit of understanding, and enjoyment, he whispered, “I am not a girl,” and reaching for a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, he poured a dollop into his cupped hand and working it into his hair, Brian began to wash his hair.
Since his hair was now thicker, bushier, and down to his shoulders, Brian found it took a bit longer than normal to wash and rinse. When he’d finished that, he stared at the bottles and making an educated guess, he selected one, read the label and after a moment, poured some in his hand and started washing his face, neck and ears, which he noted where now on the side of his head and were normal human ears. After that, Brian paused and looked down, dreading what he had to do next, knowing it was necessary if he was to finish bathing. Staring at his breasts and his flat groin, the warm water splashing on his body soothing him, he eventually grimaced and told himself, “Might as well get this over with,” and turning, he inspected the other bottles before selecting one that was a body wash.
Another dollop in his hand, he didn’t apply it right way to his body. Instead, he stared down at himself, breathing deeply the smell of berries coming from the body wash. Inhalation and exhaling evenly, he squeezed his eyes shut and putting his hands together, he rubbed them a bit before quickly working his way up his arms. By the time he reached his armpits and shoulders he wasn’t going as fast. And the moment he began lathering his breasts and the rest of his torso, he was no longer going fast at all, but had slowed and was moving in a way that not only washed, but also massaged. Liking the sensation, Brian found himself not in hurry any more and when it came time to wash everything below his waist, he took his time.
After he’d finished, Brian stepped out of the shower, torn between liking what he’d experienced and learned and disturbed by what he’d done, that he’d enjoyed it very much and that it seemed natural. Reaching for a towel, he tried to dry his hair and in the end wound up wrapping the towel around his head, much the same way Bethany did. Next, he dried off his body, mentally going over all the ways his mind had slipped, the instances where it felt natural and it came easily to think and act like a girl and all the ways he’d been educated. Grumbling, “I need to get this costume off,” he tossed the towels into the hamper, was upset on how much he’d learned about being a girl, looked at the clothes Mrs Emcie had left and thinking, “Might as well. Can’t exactly go starkers,” he reached for the leggings and the box of panty liners, took one of the small square pink packets out and began figuring out how to affix it to the crotch part on the inside of the leggings.