My Love for Daddy Transformed Me

As bad as my mommy’s untimely death was for me, it devastated my daddy. He fell into a deep depression. Daddy had no interest in seeing other women. To be honest, he had no interest in anyone other than me after her death. I had no idea what to do to pull him out of his depression, but I slowly realized that the only person who could replace her was me. Oh, yeah, I probably forgot to mention, I was their son, not their daughter. But I did look a lot like my mother, and not at all like my daddy. I had her silky blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and her small frame and had no traceable characteristics of my father, who was darker and certainly bigger. Also, Mommy’s name was Danielle and they named me Daniel because even when I was first born I looked so much like her. Daddy called us both Danni, though until Mommy’s death, I spelled my name differently, Danny.

Daddy would spend a lot of time staring at me, but I didn’t begin to get the idea of the new role I would play, until he looked at me one day and said, “Danni, you look so much like your mother, please don’t cut your hair but grow it long like her.” More than a year passed and I didn’t cut my hair again, letting it grow past my shoulders. I also loved to blow dry, and I learned to make it fluffy like Mommy’s, so it didn’t just hang limp on my shoulders.

When I was going through some of Mommy’s things shortly after her death, I noticed her birth control pills, and out of curiosity, or in memory of her, or, really I don’t know why, I started taking her birth control pills every day. Somehow, I thought they would make me feel more like Mommy. When the month’s supply started to run out, I easily refilled the mail-order prescription and was able to keep taking my daily dose of estrogen. Over the next year, I could feel my skin softening, I marveled at the swelling of my nipples and was fascinated and thrilled at the growth of the tissue surrounding my nipples, first just a sort of puffiness, but then, yes, small but nevertheless real, shapely, sensual breasts.

During the first year after Mommy’s death, even as we were still mourning our loss, Daddy and I grew much closer. Evenings were special. We would often cuddle on the sofa while watching TV or a movie. Daddy would put his arm around me and I would move next to him enjoying the warmth and masculine strength of his closeness, which awoke in my a feeling of femininity, of wanting to feel protected and possessed by him.

Once Daddy, said, “Danny, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, Daddy. Anything.”

“Could you wear your mother’s perfume when we sit on the sofa and watch TV?” Just hearing the question caused me to get aroused, somehow to imagine a girly me that would be pleasing to my daddy turned me on so much.

“Oh, Daddy, I would love to do that, especially if it gives you pleasure. I love the way it smells too.” From then on I would wear Mommy’s perfume in the evenings. Daddy even bought more when hers began to run out. He even had it gift-wrapped and gave it to me as a present, the way he used to do with Mommy.

I enjoyed having Daddy breathe in the aroma of the perfume as well as having him run his fingers through my long hair. I knew he really enjoyed the soft silkiness of my hair. Sometimes, I purred with pleasure as we cuddled close, especially because it brought back such warm memories of watching Mommy cuddling in Daddy’s arms on the sofa, although to be honest I had always felt a little jealous that Mommy had gotten all of Daddy’s attention back when she was alive.

As my skin got softer and my breasts began developing, I could also see that the estrogen was lessening the development of my body hair. I also started shaving my legs, which I found not only a sensual experience in itself because it allowed me to slather my legs in shaving cream and then after the shave to massage in creamy body lotion to keep my legs supple and moist, but I also loved the way my shaved legs looked. This inspired me to use the Internet to order hair removal creams, including bikini zone creams that took away all the hair from my shrinking testicles and pubic area, as well as chest and underarms. Soon, I had no hair on my body except the luxurious, long hair at the top of my head and my carefully trimmed and plucked eyebrows. It felt so good and I loved the way my body looked. With my soft skin, I was more and more desiring to have soft, womanly curves as well. I deeply desired a curvacious figure, breasts, hips, a round bubble derriere.

I wasn’t where I desired to be in my body development, but I could tell that my softening feminine features felt good to Daddy, too. He not only liked running his fingers through my soft silky long hair, but more and more he began stroking my soft skin as we watched TV and I began stroking his chest as I rested my head on his shoulder. We often just wore our bathrobes in the evening so his chest was bare and I liked the feel of his strong pectoral muscles and the thick chest hair, in such contrast to my slim figure and hairless chest with my nubile breasts. I especially liked it when he would let his fingers roam on my soft skin, his hand on my shoulder, or sliding his hand down and scratching my back, or gently rubbing my leg. His fingers would stroke my shoulder and play along my clavicle, but even though I longed for him to move his hand downward just a few inches and fondle my budding breasts, he wouldn’t do it.

I thought Daddy might prefer the feeling of my fingers on his skin if I grew my fingernails long so I could run my fingernail down his cheek, his neck, and then scratch his hairy chest. As my fingernails grew longer, they didn’t look quite right if I didn’t put nail polish on them, so I began getting manicures, which I thought made my hands look ladylike and sexy.

One time when I came home from school, I saw a package on my bed. It was a beautiful pink silk nightgown. I recognized it. It was Mommy’s. There was a hand-written note.

“Dear Danni,

I never want to make you feel uncomfortable and I have hesitated to ask this of you, so I want you to know, you can say no and I will never ask again, but, if you are willing, in fact, only if you would really in your heart of heart like to do this, I will would like to ask you if you would be willing to wear this nightgown instead of your old terry cloth bathrobe when we watch TV together at night. It would give me great comfort and make me happy, but I only would want you to do it if you enjoyed the look and feel of wearing it and that it made you happy as well.

My Deepest Love, Daddy

I was actually thrilled at the thought of wearing Mommy’s nightgown, not only because I loved the feel of silk against my skin, but also because I knew how much it would please Daddy, and nothing was more important to me than pleasing Daddy.

That evening, after dinner, I went up as I usually did before our TV watching time to change into my bathrobe, but this time I put on Mommy’s lingerie.