I always dreamed of having a beautiful daughter but I only have a son who is adorable and cute but this desire to having a daughter is not leaving me. My husband lives in foreign for business, so he doesn't know what's happening, then I decided to have a mom and daughter time together with my son dressing him as a girl.
First I convinced him that there is a tradition where the boy in the family has to dress as a girl for a few days, although he is not ready to do this he can't dare to go against me. So, I can make him however I want and my imagination is not stopping at all.
Scene: Beautician's Salon - Piercing Day
Mother: (Eyes sparkling) He's going to look like a little princess, don't you think?
Beautician: (Smiling nervously) Of course, dear. He's a beautiful boy. This dress… it's exquisite.
Mother: I know, right? I've been planning this for months. Every detail, every accessory… it has to be perfect.
Son: (Whispering to himself) Perfect…
Mother: (Not hearing him) The hair, the makeup… we'll do his nails, maybe a little glitter?
Beautician: (Hesitantly) Perhaps just a clear coat?
Mother: No, no, a little sparkle. It'll add a touch of magic.
Son: (Tears welling up) Mommy, I don't want glitter. I want to play outside.
Mother: Shall we start the piercings..
Beautician: You got the jumkas
Mother: Yes, I also got a second sent, I want a double piercings.
Son: (Frightening) Mom I don't want earrings, I want to play outside
Mother: It's an important tradition and you look beautiful
(I held him tight and the beautician pierced his ears two holes on each side and inserted the jumkas and studs on second set.)
Mother: There you go, sweetheart. See? It wasn't so bad. Now, for the nose…
Son: (Screaming) No! No nose ring!
Beautician: (Trying to soothe) Now, now, sweetheart. It won't hurt much.
Mother: (Sternly) It's important. A tradition.
Son: (Sobbing) I don't want to be a girl!
Mother: (Shushing him) Hush now. You'll be beautiful.
Beautician: (Quickly) Let's get this over with, shall we?
(The son struggles and cries, but the mother holds him firmly while the beautician pierces his nose. He sobs uncontrollably.)
Mother: (Kissing his forehead) There, there. You're so brave.
(Later that week - Home)
Son: (Dragging his feet) I don't want to wear this. It's itchy.
Mother: (Adjusting the halfsaree) It's beautiful. All the ladies will admire you.
Son: (Muttering) I hate this.
Mother: (Ignoring him) Smile, sweetheart. You look like a princess.
Son: (Bursting into tears) I'm not a princess! I'm a boy!
Mother: (Frustrated) You're going to ruin everything!
Son: (Cries harder) I want to play! I want to play with my friends!
Mother: (Sighing) After you've worn this for a while. Now, come on, let's practice your walk.
(She forces him to walk in a 'graceful' manner in heels, her hand firmly on his back.)
Son: (Stumbling) I can't do this!
Mother: (Irritated) You can if you try. Imagine you're a model on a runway.
(The son trips and falls. He starts crying again.)
Mother: (Sighing) Oh dear. You're so clumsy.
(Later that evening)
Son: (Sitting on the floor, playing with a toy car)
Mother: (Approaching him) You know, you should play with dolls. They're much more fun.
Son: (Looking up, startled) I don't want to play with dolls.
Mother: (Scoffs) Why not? All the other girls love them.
Son: (Hesitantly) I like cars.
Mother: (Sighing) Cars are for boys. You're not a boy right now.
(The next day)
Son: (Sitting at the breakfast table) Can I have some cereal?
Mother: (Pouring him a bowl) You should eat fruits. They're healthier for a young lady.
Son: (Pouting) I want cereal.
Mother: (Insisting) Eat your fruit. It's good for your skin.
(The week continues with a similar pattern: forced halfsaree-wearing, uncomfortable jewelry, and constant reminders to "behave like a lady." The son becomes increasingly withdrawn and sullen. He barely speaks, his eyes filled with sadness.)
Scene: Day of the 'Puberty Ceremony'
Son: (Cowering in the corner) I don't want to go. I don't want to wear this.
Mother: (Pulling him towards the mirror) Look at yourself. You're breathtaking in the halfsaree.
Son: (Staring at his reflection, horrified) I hate this… I hate you…
Mother: (Ignoring his outburst) Now, smile for the camera.
(The ceremony is a blur of forced smiles, awkward compliments from guests, and the son's growing despair. He receives gifts of jewelry and more sarees, his face a mask of misery.)
Guest 1: (Gushing) Oh, she's so adorable! Such a beautiful child.
Guest 2: (Admiring the jewelry) This nose ring is exquisite.
Son: (Hiding behind his mother)
Mother: (Beaming) Isn't she the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?
Son: (Whispering) I want to go home.
Mother: (Smiling) Soon, sweetheart. Soon.
(The month continues with a similar pattern: forced 'feminine' behavior, uncomfortable clothing, and the constant weight of his mother's expectations. The son's spirit slowly withers under the pressure. He barely speaks, his eyes filled with sadness. The mother, however, remains oblivious, convinced that she has created a masterpiece.)
PS:
Please leave a comment of your version of the story, I would love to hear your twists and turns in your version story
Disclaimer*** :
This story is purely fictional and does not encourage any hatred or doesn't mean to hurt anyone. If the owners of the images want me to take down, I will respect it and takedown the images
🥰🥰🥰🥰
ReplyDelete