Tam and Tamara, an unlikely set of names for two siblings. We are fraternal twins, born eighteen years ago. We had just completed high school, trying to decide what to do with the remaining years of schooling. We are each living with one of our parents, Tamara with her Mother and me with my Father. They divorced shortly after we were born, never able to experience life as a family, the reason stated at the time is, neither understood the other.
They did allow us contact with our other twin during high school, two or three-day vacations and an occasional long weekend together. The divorce did not allow for joint custody, so we never got to experience what our other parent is like. The vacations and long weekends were just the two of us, a hotel or with an Aunt, me never seeing my Mom and Tamara never seeing her dad. We lived in opposite ends of the state. Arizona, the state in question, me living in Flagstaff, and Tamara living in Tucson. Both parents had been in business for themselves at the time of the divorce, both carrying on with their businesses after the divorce. Their businesses did well for them; both have way too much money to deal with, way more than they could possibly spend. Tamara and I both think that was the reason for the divorce; they were so busy with their businesses, they couldn’t find time to be lovers.
A good example is now, their businesses quite large, more than several employees and both of them still working twelve hour plus days. We both love our parents, but at an early age, we learned to be content with only a few words of encouragement from them, never any meaningful relationship. I never got taken to any sporting events, concerts, even things like school plays received no attention from my father. Tamara reported the same behavior from her Mother.
Tamara and I have secret email accounts, obtained several years ago, that we use to communicate between ourselves. We have regular emails also, but nothing concerning our parents or us gets posted there. Lately, we have been frustrated in our dealings with our parents and our lives. We both wanted different things than our parent wanted, my dad wanting me to do business management then join him in his company. He runs a multi-million dollar construction company, building apartments, housing, and government buildings. It is a good business, but something I have no interest in.
For Tamara that would be perfect for her, her love of architecture, any type of business courses, anything outdoors, would be a perfect fit. Her Mom, wanting Tamara to join her in her clothing business. She runs a company that makes and sells ladies fancy dress apparel, evening gowns, prom dresses, wedding dresses, and anything fancier than regular female clothing. That future I would love to partake of, but a male in the dress business, seldom the right choice unless he was gay.
As twins, we have been trying to figure an escape out of our planned futures, and it seemed this summer had to be the time to do something about it if we could only find a way. We purposefully kept our choices for future schooling vague, hoping to find the time to make a departure from our scheduled lives.
We both put our demands on the table early in the year. We wanted a vacation with our twin alone for the three month period of the summer. Since we were legally both adults, we wanted no parental control; we could go where we wanted and do what we wanted. What happened during the summer they would find out about when we got back and not before. We figured our financial needs and informed them of the amounts. They tried to talk us out of it, but we were of stronger minds.
We chuckled when they had to consult each other as to whether to allow the vacation or not. We told them we would decide what to do about our futures and let them know within the first thirty days of vacation. We would then apply to the proper schools in time to get enrolled for the freshman year. Apparently, that satisfied them somewhat of our seriousness in this and eventually they allowed our demands. With credit cards to handle our expenditures, Tamara and I left our homes to make our way to a central meeting place to plan our way out of our predicament.
We stayed with a sister of our Mom’s, much more level headed and loving than our parents. We had stayed with her before on occasion, a long weekend or a short vacation much more enjoyable with her. We had already obtained her promise to keep secret our whereabouts from our parents. She also felt that the divorce was just two people unable to share their lives with a spouse, instead of with their businesses.
We arrived in Phoenix within thirty minutes of each other, the bus station a few blocks from our Aunt’s house. We got something to eat at a favorite drive-in near the bus station, their shakes were to die for. The short walk from the station to the drive-in was welcome, we were so glad to be our own for a change. After the drive-in we called our Aunt, her coming to pick us up soon thereafter.
It had been about a year since we saw her last, the hugs and kisses made it seem like it had been much more than that. She lived a short ways out of Phoenix, on a small acreage with a gorgeous ranch house. She had always been in the beauty industry, a beauty salon owner for a while, then a cosmetic representative and now a stylist at an exclusive salon in a neighboring town. Whenever I have seen her, she looks like she just stepped off the runway, never a hair out of place or smudge anywhere on her face. Even if she is not working, her appearance is always immaculate.
We told her that we had just eaten, the drive-in a favorite of ours since we first came to see Aunt Tiffany. She fed us anyway, always concerned about our health and diet, despising her sister and her husband for how they raised us. We had to eat most of what was on our plates, otherwise she wouldn’t let us leave the table. It took the better part of the evening to catch each other up on what has happened in our lives. After that had been completed, she stared at us, wanting to know what we had been scheming up.
“Both of us looked at her, who are you talking about? Surely you could not be implying that Tam and Tamara would put any kind of plan together for anything. As innocent as we are, this declaration of deceit leveled against us by our own aunt. The world must be going mad.”
From an early age, we had the ability to know what our sibling is thinking and often we would finish each other’s thoughts and statements. She chuckled, “yeah I am talking about you two innocent siblings. Now spill the beans and don’t make me use force.”
The force, in her case, is Aunt Tiffany’s cat. Her name is Buffy, at twenty-three pounds a formidable ally of a feline. She would sneak up on you when you least expect it and jump in your lap, her purring sounding like a car without a muffler. Then when she doesn’t get the proper respect she feels is due her, she reaches up and starts licking your face. Quickly her foe is dealt with, and she can pursue other more mundane tasks such as catching a few winks, often on your lap curled up in a tight ball. When feeding time comes, you do not want to be between her and her food dish, trampling never a pretty site.
We filled Tiff, her preferred name, in on some of our thoughts, but told her that is the reason for the vacation, to put something together to get what we wanted, not particularly what our parents desired. She understood, telling us that she would help in any way she could, I think she considered us her children even though we were born by her sister.
She showed us to our room, both of us in awe at what we saw when she opened the door. I have never seen any room more feminine in its décor or appearance. Pastel colors, lacey drapes, a gorgeous canopy bed, and more stuffed animals than any toy store. We both turned and attacked her, kissing and hugging her all over, She had to call for Buffy to save her; the cat came in took one look at the goings on and left. We all broke out in giggles; Tiffany was to have no rescue today.
Every chance we managed to get together, we slept in the same bed, hugging and spooning against each other for comfort and companionship. There never is any indication of a male/female role showed, for all intents and purposes we are two sisters sharing a respect and love for one another. Tiff knew this and offered only the one bed for our nocturnal time spent in her house. We unpacked a few things, then slipped into our pajamas and hit the sack.
Buffy came to get us out of bed the next morning, hoping to recruit another ally to fill her food dish. She is a growing girl, and needs all the nourishment she can beg, and otherwise coerce out of her providers. We got dressed and made our way to the kitchen; Tiff already had a more than hardy breakfast laid out on the table. Although we tried to pick and choose we had to eat some of everything or she wouldn’t let us up from the table.
She had taken a couple of days off from her job, wanting to spend as much time with us as we would allow. We loved her so much, quite often wondering what it would have been like with her as our birth mother. We helped her clean up the mess and do the dishes, her protesting all the way. We were her guests and guests did not have to lift a finger to help. We dismissed everything she said and did it anyway.
We sat on her enclosed patio, too soon in the day for it to be hot, and talked some. She wanted all of our thoughts on what we wanted to do, what things we liked, and where we wanted to end up in a few years. Tamara spoke first, her statement pretty much summing up our wishes and desires. We wanted each other’s lives; we knew the connection with our parental unit could never be fixed, but other than that we wanted the life our sibling had. Tiff took it all in, then announced that it is time to do something about it. She confessed that same thought had crossed her mind more than once, but she never interfered in our lives unless we specifically asked her to. That in itself a many faceted blessing as far as we are concerned.
She took us out to lunch, more like a late afternoon lunch and we talked about some of our thoughts on switching with our sibling. In her opinion, it is doable, neither of our parental units aware enough to figure out what is happening. The talk lasted far longer than we realized, the waiter asking several times if we needed anything else. Finally, we caught on to the gentle hints; they wanted to close, and we were still there. He did receive a good tip, but his facial expression when we finally left an adequate sign of his happiness.
Back home she wanted to be sure that we had thought all of this through, the deception requiring a lot from both of us, and not easily reversed. I suggested a trial run, everything done to make the deception believable, but not in front of our parents. If we could pass that test, we would go ahead with our plan, using the last of our vacation to smooth out any wrinkles in the disguise.
Tiff made several calls to her salon since they did a lot of this for their customers, many special procedures available to make the process easier. We talked way into the night about our plan. Tiff suggested a minor change to the plan later that night. Apparently, my transformation would be the easiest, adding curves and a figure easier that removing Tamara’s curves and figure. She said if two Tamara’s were to appear, both perfect in every way then we could each assume each other’s life, our parental units not able to separate us or tell us apart. It sounded good, but Tamara was still a little skeptical of that being able to be done.
It is finally decided to make me into a duplicate of Tamara, then see where we would go from there. Tiff did warn me that a lot of the things done to me were going to be with me for several months the breast augmentation significantly longer than that. For some reason, that did not act as a deterrent to my decision to go ahead with the changes.
We would shop for some clothes tomorrow, leaving an extra day for all to be sure that this path is the correct one to pursue. The idea is to get all matching outfits, exactly the same to further make our deception impossible to break. Tamara and I laid in bed that evening talking way into the early morning hours about this path we had selected. We decided to go with her name, me vowing to get used to it during the summer, so we could not be tripped up.
The next morning we dressed and started our pursuit of all things exactly alike. We shopped for hours, only our hunger making us relent in our desire to be totally identical. We used a strategy that it had to be on sale or priced way below normal for us to purchase the items. We felt we had to pinch our pennies since we needed two identical wardrobes, Tamara’s old wardrobe not going to help us in the clothing department since she had only one of each item. Late in the afternoon, we called it quits for the day; our arms were laden with bags from several shops and stores. Everything we bought, we purchased an exact duplicate of, including underwear. When Tiff had measured us she said we would come out exactly the same after the transformations; even our shoe size is identical, more luck than any other factor.
The transformation is scheduled to start the next morning, eight-thirty for my first appointment. Tamara is exempt the first day as they mold my figure to be a copy of hers. Then the next day they will make a few changes to her to assure an identical match when the two of us are seen together.
Buffy woke me the next morning, her purring so loud I couldn’t think clearly. I grabbed some fruit to nibble on and then rode in with Tiffany to the salon. Tiff would oversee my changes with several of the other stylists engaged in making the second Tamara appear. The first thing is to remove my male clothes. Apparently, this would be the last time I would be wearing anything masculine.
I am waxed, believe me, an eye-opening experience first thing in the morning. Tiffany and one other stylist getting their jollies as they ripped one cloth strip after another from my body. They rubbed in a cream that would prevent any future hair growth, for that I am overjoyed. I didn’t want to experience waxing ever again, once more than enough for me.
From waxing, we moved to figure enhancement. My feet are placed in stirrups coming from the end of the table and spread wide so they could work on getting rid of my male equipment. Tiffany had explained the procedure, but truthfully I hadn’t listened as well as I should have. I did feel them push my balls up into my body then move my penis and sac around finding the right spot to attach them to my body. A numbing spray followed and then an hour of them gluing my remaining male parts so that they resembled a female’s vagina.
Then a piece of artificial skin is brought over, exactly my skin color; it has the lips of a female with feathered edges to be glued down to cover my groin completely. The repositioning of my male equipment formed a foundation for the cover. If anybody did feel down there, they would only feel a vulva; it even had a clitoris built in, that was the tip of my glued down penis so that I could have sex if necessary. That experience I am not eager to enter into.
The cover is positioned, and then they glued the edges, then followed that with makeup designed to cover the seams. The makeup, more like a silicone putty, is semi-permanent not having to be redone for months. I lifted my head to look at my new equipment and am amazed. I look exactly like my sister down there.
Next is my breasts, soon I will have that weight on my chest the same as sis has. She often complains about the weight and them always getting in the way when she wants to do something. A machine is wheeled in with two forms hanging from an overhead arm over my body. The forms are attached and sealed to my body; then the form is half filled with a special fatty tissue to fill in behind the vacuumed skin. The pump is turned on, and a steady vacuum slowly fills the cups of the breast machine. Five hours later the cups are full, and the machine is turned off. The hoses are removed and I stare at the completed mounds of flesh on my chest. I found out that the cups stay on, they will slowly dissolve over the next few days leaving a realistic breast in its place. Tiffany comes in with a couple of syringes and gives me a shot in each breast through the suction hole at the top of the cup. It stings a little, but it soon fades away.
They work on my nails, adding extensions to each nail. I am asked how long I would like my nails, smiling a little as I show her with my other hand. Since sis does not wear extensions she will have to have the same treatment to keep us identical. Tiffany giggles a little, knowing what I am doing, but warning me that paybacks are usually just as bad as the original crime. Soon, after all ten extensions are on my hands I think I may have screwed myself since the nails made doing anything extremely difficult if not impossible.
The cups are starting to get pliable, my new jiggling breasts making their presence known. The bra that is handed me, a welcome addition, keeping them more subdued, almost manageable. A while back I never would have thought that I would have breasts, much less having to wear a bra now every day. The things we do to achieve some happiness. Quite often I find myself thinking of living with my Mom, getting to wear dresses every day, a big plus for me. All my life I have never fit in, no interest in sports, but yet I can sit and talk to girls all day. The stumbling block is that a lot of the girls can’t get over the fact that I am a male. The conversation goes along for a while then suddenly stops, we can’t include him he is not one of us.
I have two friends that know who I am underneath the exterior, so I am treated as if I was born female around them. The girls and I frequently talk, about all of the typical female interests, boys, makeup, clothes and, of course, boys. I have never had the chance or money to indulge my fondest wishes, so all of that is pent up inside of me, waiting for the chance to escape. Maybe this time.
Now that my figure matches Tamara’s we can proceed with getting all the rest of the things to match. I received some of Tamara’s old clothes to wear home; my male tops no longer fitting with the breasts. Tomorrow, Tamara comes with us, and each item of our body and style will be addressed separately.
As we get to my aunt’s house, Tamara comes running out to greet us. I am enveloped in a sisterly hug, and closely inspected, even a pinch on the breast to make sure they are real. I rubbed it vigorously since it hurt, the still visible part of the form making the pinch not as bad. Tamara is giggling at my action. Get used to it is her response, sis, it happens way too many times to be not expected.
I tell her all that had been done to me, even showed her my nails. She took one look and then gave me a stare. She didn’t say anything, but I knew that I would soon pay the price for having them. Tamara, always having the upper hand in anything she did, it is just in her nature to be on top, the way she thinks and her outspoken attitudes making it real easy for her to achieve.
We started that night briefing each other on our existence with our parent. We knew that each of us would have to be perfect to make the switch undetectable. We covered our friends, our hobbies, our interaction with our parent, anything that might trip us up. We were up late that night, going over everything we could come up with.
The next morning we started dressing alike, knowing we would have to be identical to pull this off. I knew mine would be the greater challenge, having to get used to wearing female clothes. The mirror in the bedroom showed us that on the surface we looked like each other, but all the little things still had to be addressed. Tiff complimented us when we came down to breakfast, Buffy leading the way down the hall. When Buffy first saw us, she did a double take, but then assumed that all is normal and ignored us until we headed to the kitchen.
“I think this will work, later today a more accurate representation of our identical looks. Today we will start with Tamara, then make the changes to Tam later. I had voice lessons this morning while Tamara is being coiffed and made up. We grabbed a bite to eat, then headed to the salon. As we entered, I went with Julia to a treatment room and Tamara was led to one of the styling chairs in the center of the salon.
Julia had me speak into a tape player reading a script written on a card. Then she played one that my sister had done yesterday at home. She played each twice listening for the differences. I didn’t hear all the differences, but she made numerous notes as the tape played. She measured a liquid out of a bottle that was on the table, then had me gargle with it. After I spit out the remaining liquid she told me to keep quiet for a while. While doing that she listed some of the words that I need to add to my speech, ones that Tamara frequently used, and ones that I will add to my vocal repertoire.
After twenty minutes she had me say a few words. The first words out were a little garbled, but soon my voice evened out. I sounded just like my sister now. She had me repeat the words on the card, then played them back. She then played the one that Tamara had made. She had a device on her computer that showed the different aspects of our voices and the graph of our two voices now almost identical. I asked how long the voice changes would be good for, her response surprising me. That is your voice until we manually change it again. If left unchanged for a period of six months you will most likely not be able to change it back.
Then the shock of seeing my sister after having her hair and makeup done. She is gorgeous, perfect femininity personified. Long blonde hair, permanently curly, almost to her shoulder blades. Very narrow eyebrows, that peaked high above her eyes, and long fluttering eyelashes. The rest of her makeup is impeccable, rouge on the cheeks, eye shadows from dark to light accenting finely applied eyeliner. Her lips were just as luscious, a deep burgundy red in color, seemingly puffed up more than usual. Then I noticed her earrings, three in each ear, with two in the lower lobe and one in the cartilage of her upper ear. The chandelier earrings she wore in one of the lower holes almost three inches in length.
She came right up to me, only inches from my face, telling me that the curls in the hair are a permanent, the eyebrows thinned with a laser, and most of the makeup is a stain lasting for months. Oh, I forgot to mention that the earrings are glued on, a special solvent needed to release them. I just know you will love all the changes, the extra femininity a blessing to you. She smiled and then walked away. Tiff came by and smiled; I told you paybacks are bad.
Tiff then led me off to experience the payback for myself. At least, I will not have to worry about applying makeup for a while. It took them three hours to make me a duplicate of Tamara, the things that my sister had done to pay me back for the nails actually made me feel better. I just couldn’t tell her that. Dressed in our identical outfits, Tiff offered to take us out to dinner, our first test of our disguises.
At the restaurant we were seated in a booth near the front, that evening we received many compliments from the other patrons on our looks. Several times Tamara and I changed seats to see if our waitress noticed anything. No comment all evening, from her. Tiff suggested a more dramatic test later in the week since both of our parents were coming to Phoenix on business and had called Tiffany to have dinner possibly together, just the five of us.
All of us together in one location. Our Mom seemed to be concerned about our vacation more than our father, but they had actually talked to each other to arrange this rendezvous. Tiff thought it would be the perfect place to spring our plan on them, being only dinner it would not give them time to differentiate between us in much detail. Both of us smiled, out time had come, maybe we could pull this off. The rest of the week we worked diligently on our histories and even more on our mannerisms. The little things each of us does that is outside the norm for other people.
As an example, Tamara would play with her ear when she is nervous, my old mannerisms not important now since we both were perfecting the Tamara image. The morning of the dinner, Tiff took us both back to the salon so they could refresh our image, making sure that all is perfect. Three hours being primped and pampered, Tamara seemed to be putting up with it, I myself ecstatic at the chance to enjoy such luxury.
At the restaurant, we made a grand entrance, all three of us walking up to the table where our parents were seated. Dad had been saying something to Mom, and only at the last moment looked our way. Mom had watched us all the way from the door, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The waiter had held our chairs, Tiffany, first and then the two of us. Our movements were perfect, each of us copying the other. Mom asked what was going on here, Tamara. We both responded in perfect sync with the other. “Nothing is going on Mom, why do you ask.” Dad almost burst out in laughter, but a stare from Mom killed that in the bud.
Mom not to be deterred told us that we needed to go to the ladies room to check our makeup. Both of us got to our feet and accompanied her to the ladies. As we entered we each took a stall, did our deed, then readjusted our clothes. Coming out we went to the mirrors and refreshed out lipstick, actually just gloss, since the color had been put on with a stain. Mother stood behind us watching out movements, then as we turned to face her she approached and felt our breasts. We both stepped back, “Mom is that really necessary. You have seen Tamara naked before, do you doubt your own eyes.” She smiled you two are going to perpetuate this scam, aren’t you. In unison what scam Mom.
We went back to the table and set ourselves back done, smoothing our skirts as we did so. Of course, we have dressed alike, two pink print sundresses, leaving not much to the imagination with regards to breasts. They were covered, but barely. Dad looked at Mom, but she shrugged her shoulders, not able to break the deception.
Dad decided to try a more technical question trying to break the deception. He asked a question about the federal requirements for a foundation of a ten story building. We looked at each other than back at him, who do you want to answer that question. He looked at Tamara and pointed to her; she gave her part of the answer; then I joined in with the rest of the requirements. He shook his head; this is not going to be easy to tell who is who. We smiled at each other; this just might work.
As we ate our dinner, they both asked more questions trying to trip us up. Tonight we were invincible, as we had all the answers needed to ensure our deception remained secure. As we were preparing to leave, they asked us how things would be handled after the vacation. We said in unison; that is simple Tamara will be with her Mom and her Dad during the first semester of college. They looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and then left.
In a way it was encouraging, the two of them had said more to each other tonight than in the prior years since the split. There had been no arguments tonight, just them trying to discern who the son is and who the daughter is. It didn’t end with the dinner, both Mom and Dad emailing us in the next few days trying to get us to react to things they had done. They gave our old clothes away, now that we dressed alike, they figured we would not want them anymore. Dad repainted my old room in feminine colors and brought me a canopy bed, along with a vanity. Mom did the same, trying to provoke some response from us.
We each had bought new cars, ones that we picked out ourselves, well they sold them and bought us matching white Mustang convertibles instead. Tamara and I shed a few tears about some of this, my Ford pickup a great loss to me. We just became more determined to get our way, both of us thanking them for their actions, telling them we couldn’t wait to get back and see our new things. From Tiffany we learned that both of them had talked to each other several times, they thought we would have given up by now, frustrated that we had been able to fool them.
We also learned that Mom had given the problem considerably more thought than Dad and had arranged a gynecological exam for her daughters, as part of the school physical required for entrance. If I went to that, she would know the truth. Tiffany, the smarter of the two sisters found out who the doctor was and arranged to meet with her right before we had our appointments. We were both subdued that day, figuring the jig is up, it was fun while it lasted, but they had managed to out think us.
We were led into exam rooms and told to get undressed. The obligatory gown is offered, and we were placed on a table with our feet in stirrups. Tamara had suffered through this before, her tale of what happens told me the day before we went to the doctor. The female doctor came in and asked how I felt. She seemed nice, so I responded positively, and she started examining my breasts. She prodded and pushed as she made her examination. Then she moved to my vagina; she used something to hold it open, very cold by the way, and stuck something up into me. She asked how my periods had been; I gave the response that Tiffany had told me to give; then she probed a little more. She removed a sample of something then allowed my vagina to close.
She sat in the chair next to the table telling me that everything looked normal for a young female. She asked me if I had been sexually active, I told her no, I hadn’t met a young man that I was interested in. She told me she would write a prescription for birth control, one pill a day for the foreseeable future. Three weeks before I am protected, and if I wanted to get pregnant I needed to stop the pills four weeks before any attempt to conceive. I looked at her strangely, she got a little closer to me and told me that she too came from a divorced family; she hoped my sister and I got what we wanted, any female problems I should give her a call.
I giggled a little too loud as Tamara came into the room. The doctor had seen her first, and she is dressed now ready to go. When she saw my feet in the stirrups, she broke out in uncontrollable giggling; then she asked me if I liked the exam. I managed a no, but my face is so red. Actually, my whole body is red from embarrassment. She helped me to get dressed, rubbing my breasts with her arm more than is necessary. She did get what she is after, my nipples hard as a rock. We went out to the waiting room where Mom and Aunt Tiffany were sitting waiting for us. The doctor had just left them, telling my Mom she had two very healthy daughters. She told her that they had prescriptions for birth control, be sure to get them filled as soon as possible. Tiffany made two more appointments for us in six months then we made our way to the car.
Mom caught us at the door, pulled us aside and told us we had won, I don’t know how you two managed this feat, but your father and I have given up. Whichever Tamara I get, I will be pleased, I just hope the reason that you have embarked on this journey is worth the effort. Incidentally, your father and I have started talking again to each other, along with the sex change daughter, there have been several other miracles recently, us reconnecting being the strangest of the lot.
Tamara and I exchanged looks; maybe a little bonus might come out of this scenario. We made it back home, both of us quickly heading to our room. We changed clothes, a loose fitting pair of pants and a t-shirt. Touched up our lip gloss and went to see Tiffany. She is sitting in the living room petting Buffy. We sat down, on each side of her, giving her a hug. She complimented us on the deception, telling us even the doctor was left confused with our impersonation. The doctor knew Mom well; they have been friends for years. She also knew what she is like, and what had transpired years ago when they split. She applauded our efforts, and will do all she can to help us in our goal.
We talked quite a bit that night, happy for our success so far, but knew to get what we wanted we had to continue the charade without any chance of failure. For the rest of the summer, we would continue to learn what our twin was like and commit all knowledge to memory. When the two of us got together later that evening, we decided to perfect our skills on Tiffany. If we could fool her all the time, we knew we could handle our parents in the same way. So every chance we got we switched off, filling in for each other. It seemed that Tiffany could most of the time figure out who was who, but we kept working on it.
Then Tamara and I came up with an idea. It seemed that her attitude changed a little when Tamara entered her period every month. Maybe that is how Tiffany is able to keep us separate. So I vowed to simulate my period first a few days before she usually gets hers. I wore a tampon and a pad just like sis does, my emotions a little ragged duplicating Tamara’s emotions to the best of my ability. We were sure Tiffany picked up on it, although she didn’t say anything. Then when Tamara actually started her period Tiffany knew she was had.
She caught us at breakfast, wanting to know if we were happy. We both looked at her and asked her what she meant. Don’t be coy with me; you two are seriously messing with me. We asked again what she meant, her response being that one of us was faking a period to keep up the disguise. I acted like I was put out, my period is real, and I am not acting. It is a nuisance every month, just so unfair. She looked at both of us waiting for one of us to giggle or otherwise blow the deception. I suggested that if she was doubtful, we both could drop our panties and show her the truth.
She thought we were kidding, but we looked at each other and dropped our jeans, slid our panties down showing our panty liners and the string from the tampon. That day I had added some ketchup to the liner, just a drop, to make it look a little more realistic. She looked at both of us, smiled a little, why you little fakers, now I have to get Buffy in here to tell you two apart. When we first showed up Buffy used to go to Tamara first, a cat usually friendlier to a female. Since then we had both worked on her spending time petting and otherwise convincing her that we were the same.
She heard her name, walked proudly into the room, looked at Tiffany, then pranced over to the couch and set herself down in between us on the couch. We both reached out a hand to rub her, her purring a sign of her approval. Tiffany cursed her, calling her a good for nothing cat, then she got up and left the room not even getting close to Tiffany. Well, that settles it, we have now two Tamara’s and Tam is only a memory.
We constantly quizzed each other, people we knew, things about out parent’s house, friends at school, teachers that we had, everything we could think of that might blow up in our face at the wrong time. Realistically, we both thought that our parents would accept us even if they can tell the difference between us. Tiffany had talked to both of them in the last few days; Dad had flown to Tucson twice to go out with Mom, something that had never happened before. Maybe, just maybe there is some hope for the two actually to share a life with each other.
We continued scouring the thrift stores every week looking for clothing that we could make outfits out of. With the price of clothes these days we had dropped out insistence on exactly matching outfits, settling on things we both liked, maybe in matching colors. We would buy a blouse, for example, knowing that we had nothing that would match it at home and then look harder for its counterpart in the upcoming weeks. Except for two or three pieces, we had managed to find something to go with everything we had purchased. Since we had saved so much money we could buy more clothes, at least for me, the real Tam that was the ultimate reward. We made twice weekly trips to the salon, perfecting the look to the nth degree. I loved being pampered, the salon visits like winning a lottery. The real Tamara put up with the visits, but after a while I think she caved a little, enjoying them as much as I did. The last week we did a review of all of the information we had shared with each other, one of us would start a statement or ask a question, and the other would finish the response.
Then a big surprise two days before we were to head to our new homes. Mom called and told us that we were both moving back to the house in Tucson. When they divorced, she had kept the house although it was way too big for two people. Apparently, the folks had come to an agreement and were living together again, although they stressed it was a trial run. Dad had moved back to Tucson, but flying out occasionally when necessary for his business. We made some changes in the schools we were going to attend, just lucky that the university in Flagstaff is part of the same university system as the University of Arizona in Tucson.
In a way, it made our deception a little easier, but we knew we would have to be on our guard every minute since both of us were present in any situation to be compared against. We made the trip mainly in silence, not sure what the new changes had in store for us. Mom picked us up at the airport, telling us that we both looked very pretty. Before we arrived at the house, she asked which one of her daughters she would get the pleasure of working with. Without any hesitation we both replied in perfect sync with each other, both of us Mom, don’t you recognize your own daughters?
She broke out in laughter, asking only one thing. Before she died, she wanted to know the back history on why this was being done and wanted to know who is who. Again in perfect sync, no trouble Mom, before you die we will tell you. I think she had some alternative ideas about us, for all of a sudden she asked how it felt to be living as a female. Our response perfect for the situation. “Mom we are female, so it is the same for us to be living as a female, we are both female.”
I think that thought bothered her, she didn’t know quite what to say to our response. Then we both offered to help her in her business that is what daughters do for their Mother. She pointed to her throat, and faked throwing up, and we all broke into a giggling fit, then laughter. What we ended up deciding to do is going with a parent each day, alternating so we each had a day with our parents. That allowed us to choose each day which parent we would go with. Of course, I ended up with Mom most every day and sis ended up with dad. We were happy, and our parents didn’t seem to mind the apparent switching off between us.
That is the days they could determine which of us was with them. They guessed a lot, frequently wrong. It was just that a guess. For us is was pure bliss, both of us doing what we wanted with the parent of our choice. The new found relationship between them blossomed, now Dad was in Tucson at least three to four days a week. Sis got her way, now remaining in Flagstaff to help run the business, a job she relished and was doing quite well with. When the adults were together the children were seldom discussed, lots of intimate dinners and dancing at clubs late into the night. They had finally taken the time to enjoy each other, and were obviously making up for lost time.
I was making equal inroads with Mom’s business, running parts of it with ease. Mom still tried to unravel the mystery from time to time, but I was easily able to deflect her attempts. To say I was happy would be a gross understatement, living as a female, working with fashions, being the best daughter to my Mom as possible, pure heaven. I was able to persuade her to allow me weekly visits to the salon, always the highlight of the week for me.
Whenever I had any time I loved to sketch fashions. Sometimes something different, but mostly just variations on what had been done in the past. Let’s face it in the last century there is not much that has not be done with women’s fashions, but released as new and just right for the current time period. Anyway Mom caught me doodling one day, dragged me to her office and looked through my sketches in great detail. Nothing was said afterwards, but when she caught me again several days later she just remarked to keep it up.
We had registered with the colleges of our choice, but decided to take very light class loads so that we could be involved in our parent’s businesses. I signed up for three classes, while Sis had opted for four classes per semester. She was always the better student, while I had to work hard to achieve the same result.
More of the same for the next month or two, the two of us being able to spend the time with the parent of our choice. Sis was staying in Flagstaff most of the time running our father’s business, taking her classes at the University up there. I was doing well with Mom’s business, even had stuck my neck out and had some of my sketches made up, their popularity surprising both me and Mom. This last month my designs were the top seller for the company.
On one of our long distance phone calls we decided to let our parents in on the deception, and take our chances that we would still be able to stay with the parent of our choice. It was done on a weekend when everyone was in Tucson. We had just finished dinner at home, they were getting ready to go out on a date, a small feat in itself. We cornered them in the living room, introduced ourselves as the real person inside and waited for their reaction. We got a huge hug, both of them sandwiching us between them. Mom especially emotional and grabby.
“Well that answers a few questions, but how about the future?”
“You are looking at it, you memory might be getting patchy since you are so old, but you had two daughters and still do. So what you see is what you get.”
“Old huh. We have known for quite a while that we have two daughters, it just took one of our children some time to find herself. Now we have to be going, you know old people have to be in bed early.”
Another super hug from them, kisses all around and then they left on their date leaving us standing there staring at their retreating backs. I thought sure we might get more of a reaction, not disappointed, just a kind if melancholy feeling. What did they mean about having two daughters for quite some time?
The two of us talked for quite some time that night, still wide awake when our parents returned. Mom smiled, “Still trying to figure how we knew you were both female huh?” I looked at my sister, she shrugged her shoulders, not having any input at this time. Mom told us to get to bed, all will be revealed in the morning. So scoot.
We did so, climbing into the same bed, after donning out nighties. We cuddled as we normally do, eventually succumbing to sleepiness. The smell of something heavenly for breakfast got both of our attentions, we slipped on a robe and thundered down the stairs to the kitchen, Mom smiled as did Dad who was watching from the table. Mom set a plate in front of both of us, the items reflecting what our twin liked. I smiled at sis, they still couldn’t tell us apart, all of that crap last night was just an act to try and sniff us out. We switched plates, confusing them even more. Mom picked up her own plate and set down opposite us right next to Dad.
Well I guess you two have won the game, we give up trying to tell you two apart. You did succeed in getting us back together, Dad will be moving back permanently this weekend. Now as for you two, we have decided on something different for you for the next few months. I have enrolled both of you in a private finishing school for young women, nine months of learning everything necessary to be the perfect debutante for a party that we will be hosting come this January. We intend to present both of you at the party, our very own debutantes. We have invited all of our relatives and many of our friends. You don’t have to thank us, it is the least we can do for our daughters. When you return you both will be the cultured young ladies that we expect as our daughters. In the mean time we will be looking for prospective boyfriends so that you can settle down eventually and provide us some grandchildren. Won’t that be nice?
Sis and I exchanged some looks, I nodded and we attacked Mom kissing, hugging and thanking her any way we could. This was not what she was expecting apparently as she looked to dad for some help here. He just smiled and took his paper and went to his office, leaving Mom to deal with this. Both of us were asking questions right and left. When can we leave for the school, this will be so cool? Can we buy new clothes, if we are going to be cultured and a debutante we will need all new wardrobes? Can we room in the same room at school or do we have separate rooms? Do you have the name of the school so we can look it up on the internet? She handed us two brochures, then went to the kitchen sink and took some Tylenol, I am sure we had given her a headache.
When we were able to be alone again, both of us were shocked. Mom was determined to get the best of us somehow. Sis might live through the finishing school with a minimum of distress, but for me it represented something that I was not sure I was ready for. What if the training became ingrained in my mind, if I wanted to revert later to something less feminine it would make it extremely difficult? Sis and I talked most of the night, to her the finishing school would be perfect for me. The last few scraps of masculinity would be forever eliminated, revealing the true me.
“Look, Tam what you have said you wanted in life, is right here at your grasp. If you will admit it to yourself, you are a one hundred percent female and have always been so. Just think, both of us dressed to the nines presented to our family as debutantes. Fancy dresses and our behavior adjusted to be the girliest girl. I can still love architecture and join Dad in his business, and you can still join Mom in her business, something you have admitted you want to do so badly. Nothing has changed except what little non feminine actions and traits will be eliminated leaving only the girliest two sisters in this part of the state. Perfect for both of us. Just like two peas in a pod.”
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker