I was barely eighteen years old and away at college when my stepmom called me out of the blue. She was very upset and I could tell she had been crying. I asked her to tell me what was going on. She was able to stutter out, “Your father was just killed on his way to work.”

Needless to say, I was in shock, and I was swallowing hard as I was trying to be strong for her sake.

I told her, “I would like to come home and help you with the arrangements for his funeral. I don’t think I could go to classes for the next few weeks anyways.”

We both hung up telling each other that we would be okay and we would see each other the next day.

I should have told you about her. My father had been a lawyer for a company that imported oil from Columbia. My stepmom had been his assistant in Columbia as well as his translator. When he had met my stepmom, she was only twenty-eight years old and she could have been a model. Her hair was to the top of her round and plump ass. Her breasts were like someone had glued on two halves of a large coconut, and her waist was like someone had wrapped her in an hourglass and left until her body was permanently in that shape.

I was a carbon copy of my father. I had grown into a 6’4 blonde with piercing blue eyes. I worked out every day as I was on the football team as a receiver. I was good enough to get drafted to an NFL team but I wanted to finish the law degree I was currently in at the time. I only had a semester of college left. I informed the university of my family emergency, and they agreed to let me take classes online for the last few weeks of school before Christmas break.

I arrived home and I noticed that the house was not decorated for the holidays, and decided to ask my stepmom if she wanted me to do that for her.

“Your father used to do that every year and I have no idea how to do it. I wish he was here because our house looks out of place next to all of the other ones in the neighborhood. Please be careful as we just had snow last night. I will also have a cup of your favorite drink waiting for you when you get done.”

It was three hours of hard work, but well worth the time. I transformed the house into a beautiful gingerbread house complete with the large candy canes along the sidewalk leading up to the front door. I was completely soaked through my clothes and frozen by the time I was able to stop. I walked into the house and my stepmom handed me her pink mug full of a steaming hot toddy.

I asked her why she made it in her pink mug and she said, “ Your father used to do it every time he was done decorating the house. I just did it out of habit. If you want me to get you a different mug, I will.”

I felt so bad for making her upset so I just drank it and apologized for upsetting her.

I told her that my clothes were all dirty as I had planned to do when I got there.

She told me, “My bathrobe is hanging in the bathroom, so slip it on until the first load of laundry is done. I will wash the laundry as you soak in the tub. Also, you should have your hair in a bun so it doesn’t get soaked in the water.”

Of course, as a college kid, I didn’t have the money to get it cut and as a result, I had shoulder-length blonde hair. Jokingly I asked her to do it for me. She excitedly went and got her hair brush and a hair scrunchie to hold my hair in the bun. I noticed that the scrunchie was also pink but said nothing about it. She brushed my hair for twenty minutes as if I was a daughter who had not taken care of it.

After I soaked in the bubble bath she had run for me, I noticed that I had a slightly oily sheen on my skin.

“You have to shower to rinse the bubble residue off. Use the pink body wash as it is the best way to get it all off,” she hollered through the door. I did as she said to and smelled like a bouquet of fresh-cut roses. There was nothing that I could do about it, but I failed to realize that I was smooth-skinned from the neck down.

I dried off and slid her floor-length pink fluffy robe on, and proceeded to the living room couch. I must have been tired because, when I woke up, I noticed that I was in a pink satin floor-length nightgown and matching panties underneath it. My nails were done in a bubble gum pink and a long sharp stiletto shape. I was not surprised when I noticed the way I was dressed, because my stepmom and I had done this before. The only things that were different this time were the fact that I had large breasts glued to my chest, and we didn’t have to hide it from my father anymore.

“I hope you will agree to stay as my daughter for the entire time you are here with me. I was thinking about the fact that we could do more than just a few hours, and maybe go shopping at the mall together for girl’s day tomorrow if you agree. Please do this for me so I do not see a picture of your father every time I look at you. It makes me feel so sad and depressed to be reminded of him.”

I was stunned by her admission and I didn’t want to cause her to feel like that.

I readily agreed to be her girlfriend who was younger than her, but I didn’t want to be her daughter.

She laughed at the suggestion at first, but I explained to her, that by me being her girlfriend, we could say that I was here for the funeral as her son was out of state at school. She said she would love to get to know her girlfriend better because people would ask her all sorts of questions.

We decided that I was from her hometown and I had been a secretary that was under her husband in Columbia. I was also twenty-nine years old and single. I was lesbian and I had dyed my hair blonde at my father’s request. She then showed me pictures of the friend that I was going to pretend to be. We looked almost like twins except for the haircut and color. I joked that I would love to get my hair done like hers and dyed the same color.

My stepmom called her beautician to see if we could get it done before the salon actually opened up at 10 am. She gave me the thumbs-up signal to let me know that we had an appointment the next morning.

We woke up at 6 am so my stepmom was able to dress me as well as do my makeup. The outfit she gave me made my ass look like a bubble and supper tight on my legs. She then put a loose oversized t-shirt on me and a pair of knee-high boots that were a three-inch block heel. She then slipped a pair of large hoop earrings into my ears and pronounced my outfit as done. I looked at myself in her mirror and saw a blonde babe looking back at me.

At the salon, I had the fake press-on nails removed and was led to the nail station the beautician had previously set up for me. She then had me soak my hands in a bowl of hot, oily water for fifteen minutes to soften the cuticles on each finger. She then showed me the tips and proceeded to fit each finger with the correct size.

Once she determined what she needed, she began to trim my cuticles and shape my natural nails to make sure the tips were perfectly straight. Once she was satisfied with her work, she began the process of adhering the tips and filling in the nails with poly gel in a baby blue color. After that, I was placed in a UV light for forty-five minutes, as she began to shape my eyebrows into a delicate arch. She then filled them in with a black brow dye.

I realized at that point I was not going to be able to dress as a man for at least a month or so.

With my nails and brows done, I was led to the sink so she could wash my hair and start the process of turning it Into the identical hairstyle as my stepmom’s friend.

It took her another two hours to cut and dye my hair jet black. When I was finally able to see the results, it was just mind-blowing. I couldn’t find a single trace of me even being a man. The beautician informed me that the makeup was in fact a semi-permanent treatment good for at least three months before needing to be redone. I was shocked, to say the least.

I asked, “Am I supposed to stay this way until the end of the school year?”

My stepmom said that was the only way to make sure I wasn’t discovered as a crossdresser and lose my scholarship. She then told me that I was going to get a full wardrobe of women’s clothing and a closet filled with heels and a few pairs of sneakers. My room was tastefully redecorated as a career woman. I was going to learn how to be a proper lady.

I was also informed that I was not her girlfriend but her lesbian secretary. I was also getting hormone injections for the next two years. I would have my own real breasts and feminine hips.

She said she had been saving money for the last six years and had the money to get my sex reassignment surgery done.

She whispered in my ear, “We both know that you have desired to be like this for a long time now. It is time for you to embrace the butterfly and let go of the caterpillar.”

I was in heaven, hearing her acceptance of my real person.