The works being presented by Faeriemage for the year of challenges by Melanie E.
The boots he handed me were. . .well, they were perfect. They were a red leather, with similar tooling to the boots I held in my hands, but they were long and had a zipper up the side. They had a three inch broad heel. They were also obviously women's boots.
"You haven't heard the last of me! I'll sue you over this!"
"Sir, please, this just isn't becoming."
"But the shoes don't fit."
"If they were purchased in this store, then they always fit. Have a nice day."
I startled a bit when the door was slammed, well as much as a door on a hydraulic hinge can be slammed. The bell was loud at least.
I took a deep breath and sighed. "Maybe this store isn't for me."
What was I doing? A friend at the law school had suggested that I come in here for a pair of boots. He'd told me that they had the most wonderful fit, and wearing them just brought out a sense of personal. . .wholeness. Well that's how he described it.
I looked around the store and wondered if I had the right place. The boots all seemed to be in women's styles, so I walked outside, and, sure enough, the sign read Henry Harrelson's Custom Fit Boots.
The older gentleman stood there looking at me expectantly. Taking a deep breath I stepped forward. "Mr. Harrelson I presume?"
"Oh, so formal. Henry is fine, dear."
"Um. . .I'm a guy." I'd gotten this confusion a lot recently. I don't know why everyone else assumed incorrectly, but I could tell who I was when I looked in the mirror. Well, it was obvious to me. It's also part of the reason I'd taken to wearing a two day growth of stubble on my face.
Unfortunately I'd shaved this morning.
"So sorry, it's just. . ." He looked around the store, as if trying in vain to see a pair of men's boots.
Well, that's what I was doing.
"My friend suggested I get a pair of boots here."
"Yes, Robert was a joy to fit. Don't get many like him in here, but there aren't many like him, are there? I understand he's quite a catch. You should consider yourself lucky."
"Um. . ." I blushed bright red. "I'm not gay."
"I never said you were, dear. I'm so sorry. I usually don't get so ahead of myself. My wife tells me I need to be more circumspect in my dealings, but it is just so much fun here."
The smile he gave me was so beatific that for a moment I thought I saw a halo of light surrounding his head. I blinked and it was gone. Just a trick of the light, I'm sure.
"So, Andrew, what will we get for you. . .You know, I do have the perfect pair of boots for you, but if you're not ready for them, then they could. . ."
"The perfect pair?" I was a little skeptical that there could be anything in this world perfect for me.
"Like I said, if you're not ready. . .that's my concern. Let's step back here a ways, and yes, here we are. I pride myself on a perfect fit. Unfortunately you don't seem like the perfect fit type of person."
He handed me a very nice, manly, dress boot. It had some tooling on the side, and a low heel. For a moment I found myself wishing that the heel were a little higher. I'd always thought that 5'3" was much too short, and not just because I was a man.
"It fits perfectly." I said after I'd slipped them on and walked back and forth a bit. I'd never had a pair of boots, or even shoes, that felt the way that these did.
"I never said I couldn't find a pair of boots that fit your foot perfectly, dear. I simply said you weren't ready for the boots that fit you perfectly."
"What's the difference?"
"Come back over here, and I'll let you try on the perfect boot for you."
The boots he handed me were. . .well, they were perfect. They were a red leather, with similar tooling to the boots I held in my hands, but they were long and had a zipper up the side. They had a three inch broad heel. They were also obviously women's boots.
I'd never seen a pair of boots I wanted to try on more, and almost before I knew what I was doing I had both of them on and zipped up.
I stood up and walked around in them a bit. I was 5'6" for a moment. It was beautiful. They boot was so comfortable that it almost felt as if it weren't there at all. It completely supported my calf, and even thought I was almost on tip toe, or so it felt, I didn't feel the pressure pinching my feet.
A smile spread across my face, and I almost pranced back and forth in the store getting the feel of the boot.
The smile vanished all too quickly from my face, however. They were women's boots.
Sadly I took them off and handed them back to the shopkeeper. "I'm sorry, Henry, but I can only afford one pair of boots."
"You haven't even heard the price yet."
"Robert said you charged him about two hundred dollars."
"Ah, but he purchased a different pair of boots. Both of these are only a hundred dollars each. And I happen to be having a two for one special right now."
"Oh but I couldn't." I looked longingly at the red boots. Maybe I could get away with wearing them. They were so comfortable feeling. Maybe once in a while. . .
"I'm not sure." I felt the normal indecision falling over me.
"That's the best reason for the two for one sale. You don't have to choose now. Get both pair of boots. Some days, if you feel like the one, wear it, and some days, if you feel like the other wear that."
I paid for the boots.
"Would you like to wear one of them out of the store?"
I looked longingly at the red boots. They fit me so well, but I went with the others. They fit well enough, I supposed.
I looked at the time and rushed out of the store with a passing, "Thank you, Henry."
I'm not sure if he answered me.
I tossed the red boots in the back seat, and drove to the campus. All the way there, I kept looking at the boots on the rear seat.
What would it hurt? They were just boots after all. I was wearing jeans, and they would easily cover most of the boot. I could get away. . .
No, I'd know. It was a women's boot. I was a man, or at least I tried to prove to everyone I was.
But they felt so good. . .I almost crashed into the back of a truck stopped at a red light just outside of campus, so I decided to make the rest of the drive with my eyes on the road.
I tried not to think of the sirens in the back seat calling to me, but I couldn't help it. They were so. . .pretty.
I smiled at the thought. I'd never been considered pretty, and wondered if I could pull it off. Wait, it was the boots that were pretty, not me.
I knew that they'd go with my outfit. I usually wore neutral colors, trying to avoid attention, but those boots would draw attention. And I would be 5'6". Sure, that's still short, but. . .
I'd made up some time, and was not nearly as behind as I thought. Before I could stop to think about it, I threw off the other bots and slipped on the red ones. I felt a thrill as I zipped them up, and then I slid my pants leg down over them.
For the first time this semester, I smiled as I entered the law school building. I walked looking around at people, and I heard a number of classmates call out to me. I answered them, still smiling. Had they always been this friendly, and I'd just never noticed.
I waved at acquaintances and generally strutted down the hall. Either no one noticed I was wearing women's boots, or they just didn't care. My confidence built as I continued down the hall to the classroom with my first class of the morning.
The teacher had a novel approach to teaching, and expected us to sign in at the front of the room. I wasn't used to the added height, so I bent over a bit to look for my name, and sign.
"Who's the hot new girl?" I heard one of my classmates say from behind me as he waited his turn.
"I don't know, but she has one fine ass." I heard a familiar voice say.
"Robert!?" I said in shock as I turned around.
"Andrew? Oh god, I'm sorry. It's just you were. . .I mean it looked like. . .man, I'm sorry."
They were both blushing furiously.
"Look, guys, I understand. I'm short, and petite, and I do have slight features. Don't worry about it. I don't think anything can ruin my mood today."
I finished signing and went to take my usual seat in the middle. Something in me wouldn't let me sit down, however. I went back up to the front of the room and sat down. I'd always preferred being 'right in the action' so to speak. The problem was I'd been afraid of people behind me looking at me while I answered questions. I did a lot of that.
Always before the middle of the room was a compromise.
I figured something needed to change. I didn't need to hide from attention, and I would have people looking at me every time I went to court. "time to get over your insecurities, Andy."
I'd stopped using that nickname in high-school, because I'd been afraid of its gender ambiguity. I thought I could probably handle it now.
"There's something different about you, Andrew."
"Look, Robert, we've known each other for a long time now. Call me Andy. It's easier."
"But I thought. . ."
"People change. I had a very interesting morning, and figure it's time for me to make a change."
"Ok, Andy. So, what happened this morning?"
"I stopped by Henry Harrelson's"
"Really? That's so cool. So, did he get you the perfect pair of boots?"
"I think he did." I blushed as I said it.
"Really, can I see it?"
"Sure. Let's have lunch after class and we can talk about it."
I sighed and got myself out of the car. We chatted as we went into the restaurant, and he held the door for me. I blushed even though we sort of did that for each other. It just felt different this time for some reason. More. . .personal? I guess that's it. More personal.
"Robert. Andrew. Classes out for the morning then?" Mary had a smile for us as usual. We came in here a lot. I can't tell you how many times they had to kick us out at the end of a long night of studying.
"Yes, Mary, and if you don't mind, I've decided to give Andy a try for a while."
"Of course, Andy. There's something different about you, but I can't place what it is."
"I did shave this morning."
"I noticed. . .but it's something else. No matter. I'm sure I'll get it eventually."
We were seated at our normal corner booth, and the waitress, Lisa this time, got us our usual mid day drinks, water for me and a lemonade for Robert, and went to get our meals.
It was a Thursday, which meant that I would have the steak and garlic potatoes, with a nice side salad, and Robert would have the Salmon. Most of my steak and potatoes would go home with Robert, as usual, but I didn't mind. It was more about the company and atmosphere than anything esle.
"So, about those boots. . ."
I unzipped one of them and slipped it off. I handed it to Robert with a slight smile.
He had a shocked look on his face. "Those are. . ."
"Women's boots? Yes, I know."
"No, what I was going to say is those are the boots that I saw in the window of the shop. Those boots are the reason I went into the store in the first place. I told Mr. Harrelson that I wanted to by those boots for a friend but we wouldn't sell them to me."
"Why not?"
"He said that you can't buy someone else's boots for them. They have to make their own decision on fit."
"So, why did you send me there?"
He blushed bright red and wouldn't look at me. I took this opportunity to put the boot back on. I felt naked without it.
I had zipped up the boot, and adjusted my pant leg, and was looking at him expectantly when he finally started speaking.
"Remember the first time we met?"
"Of course I do. You walked up to me a kissed me full on the lips, saying something about being dared to kiss the most pretty girl in the class. Something I might add that your other friends all deny ever doing."
He blushed, but not as br4ightly this time.
"That was a couple of weeks after I first saw you. We were still in our first semester of our first year at law school. To me, you were the most pretty girl in the class, even with your boyish haircut."
"Dude, I was a boy. I mean I am a boy."
"I know that, now, but I couldn't help it. I developed a crush on you. I still have a crush on you."
"Wait. . .what?"
"Hear me out. You don't act like one of the guys. You have great fashion sense, and you are so easily startled. You always hold to the background and support the decisions of others. You are emotional and caring and one of the sweetest people I know."
"This still doesn't explain. . ."
"I'm getting to that. I'd told myself that I just needed to go over and talk to you, get you out of my system, and I could move onto another, more approachable girl."
"I'm not unapproachable."
"You had the nickname of ice princess, before we all realized you were a guy."
"Oh. . ."
"It's not that. It's just that you were so collected, or at least seemed so from our perspective. You kept to yourself, and seemed in your own little world ruled by you."
"I was just so shy. . ."
He put his finger on my lips in a shushing gesture. It was one of the more intimate contacts we'd had, and I blushed and pulled away.
"Andy, let me finish, okay. I know the your story, I need to let you hear why. I decided that you were going to reject me, since you weren't dating any of the guys in the school and we figured it was because you were just focused on school."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he reached out his finger again. I closed my mouth and intercepted his hand with my own. I would be good, but I kept holding his hand to keep him from putting a finger to my lips again.
He covered my hand with his, and it felt good to just let him hold my hand.
"Since it would be my only opportunity, I figured it was then or never. I wanted so much to feel what it was like to kiss you. It would be a memory I would cherish for the rest of my life. It is a memory I cherish."
"I gathered up my courage, I walked over to you, and I kissed you. I know you kissed me back, because I felt you melt into me."
"I was just so surprised."
"I know. I kissed you because I was falling in love with you, and I'd never once talked to you."
"Robert. . ."
His smile faded and he continued, "I know. You're not gay. Neither am I. When I saw those boots, they reminded me of the girl I'd seen. They reminded me of the ice princess, but not that the same time. I thought of fire when I saw them, but you don't call someone a fire princess. . ."
"Oh. . ."
"Yes, I wanted those boots for you. For the memory of you that I carry with me since that first day that we kissed. I couldn't ever forget. . ."
In that moment, seeing him look like that, I couldn't help it. My heart melted and I did something I never thought I'd do. I kissed him. He kissed me back.
"Took you two long enough."
We pulled apart, and I blushed furiously. "We're not, I mean I'm not, I mean. . ."
"Girl, you've been making eyes at this man since the first day I saw you two in here."
"Lisa, but I'm a man."
"I know you keep saying that, but you're the only one who believes it. Let me tell you a little something about myself." What happened next was the strangest thing in my life. The voice coming out of Lisa was hers, but not the one I was used to hearing, and the disconnect between what I saw and what I heard was jarring to say the least. "I was born Peter."
Robert's jaw dropped open, which I could see because I'd looked over at him at this revelation. My jaw was on the floor as well.
Lisa continued in her normal voice, "You two keep circling each other, which I think is sweet, but you really need to get over your preconceptions. Robert has been in love with you forever, even if you seem unsure whether you want to be loved by him."
She turned to Robert, "Andy is in love with love, and has some strange ideas on who she should be with. She thinks society will look down on her if she admits that she wants to be in love with you."
Robert put his arm around me, and I couldn't help it, I cried. I grabbed onto him and just cried. They weren't tears of sadness, however. They were tears of relief and joy and a comfortable pair of boots.
Lisa gave me a card for a good psychologist who I still see periodically today. He helped me to understand who I was, and I have to say the boots helped. Every year I go back to Henry's shop, and buy another pair of boots on my birthday. No, not the actual day I was born. The day I got my first pair of boots.
I would like to say that everything between Robert and myself was perfect, but unfortunately life isn't a story. We've had our ups and downs, and he even left me once for another woman.
But we've been married now for ten years, and we have three beautiful children, all adopted of course.
And all of this is because of a red pair of boots.
The suns glow slowly faded from the clouds as I sat there on my island. I say my island, but I shared it with the crew of the small sailing vessel on which I was a seaman.
It was a small, square sailed, boat, and there was not much room aboard to move, let alone find any privacy. Here, on the island, I had a moment to myself. We were fishermen, and it was the only life that seemed to fit me. I'd tried my hand at many other trades but my slight size and lack of musculature limited my options.
Here though, I found a place with people who were more similar to me than I'd been willing to credit before I found myself in their midst.
Even in their cooperative work there was a real sense of independence here.
And they let me have my sunsets.
That was all I asked, really. A sunset once a day and work to take my thoughts from the things in life that would not change.
"Akakios, are you done watching Apollo's chariot yet? I think even the god no longer worries about it."
That wasn't my name, but it's the one they gave me. Innocent one. Not evil. I guess I could see why they gave it to me, but I was unsure whether or not it really applies to me. I'd refused to give them my real name for fear I would be found out.
"No, Kleon. It's just gotten to the good part."
There was some laughter at this. They were a rough bunch without any formal education, but they were a family to me of a sort.
"The wind begins to change. We need to go now if we want to get back home, lads." That was our captain Epiktetos. He was new to his trade as captain, but we didn't hold it against him. He had a gift, usually, to know exactly where the fish would be schooling.
The haul on the way out had been lacking, but we hoped to get something on our way back in. We did this every day. Sail in lazy arcs out to the island, wait for the wind to change, and then sail back.
The final member of our crew, Irenaeus, made his usually quiet way to the ship.
With how well all of our names fit, I doubted a single one of them was the one these men had been born with.
Kleon for the man who saw glory in everything around him. Brash and open.
Epiktetos the man who'd newly acquired his command.
Irenaeus the peaceful.
The meaning of the name a description of who we were. They thought me innocent.
I tried to pull my weight, but I simply could not build the muscle that they had. They left me to the steer board at the back. That job I could do. I followed the direction given me by Epiktetos and led us from one school to the next on our way back.
We filled our boat with the fish that allowed us to continue our journey each day. That allowed us to be free from the ties that the land would impose upon us.
We arrived home just into second watch. As usual, I would sleep on the boat. It helped me to hide my shame from the others in our little family. Epiktetos went home to his young wife, while the other two went to their hostels.
I unbound the strips of cloth about my chest so that I could breathe. The size of my breasts was such that it was becoming harder and harder to hide. I was sure that in a few weeks time it would be impossible for me to hide my gender any longer.
Or lack thereof.
Below, for the most part, I seemed to be male. I had a penis at least.
Above, however, I was becoming female.
It was my shame that I'd hid from everyone. Everyone since my father.
I'd only just begun to grow breasts when my father came in on me one morning. He accused me of asking for this change. Said that I'd asked Aphrodite to become female.
It was nothing of the sort. I worshiped Apollo primarily. I loved to watch the sun chariot as it crossed the heavens. I tried to tell him, but he'd stopped listening. He came after me with a gelding knife.
If it was good enough for his horses.
I was never strong. I tried to pass between his legs and get away, but I tripped him instead. He fell into the corner where he'd trapped me, and didn't get up.
I turned him over, and he looked up at me in horror. The knife was buried up to the hilt in his gut.
"I didn't do this, Father. I'm a faithful son of Apollo."
"There is more Demeter in you than Apollo. For what you've done to me, you shall never find rest under any man's roof."
And I hadn't. It wasn't until I found the crew that I'd been able to sleep an entire night without being kicked into the street. I'd begun to worry that I would spend the rest of my life a destitute beggar until I'd run into Kleon.
"Hello, little one. Looks as though you've lost your last coin."
"I need work, not charity, hairy one."
"Oh, the boy has teeth, does he. Well, come then, Akakios. Come and see what the world can do for you."
"My name's not. . ."
"It can be, if you let it. There is no guile in you, child. Come."
I followed the bear of a man to the ship.
"Have another for you, brother. That gives us the four we need."
"The last one you brought seems a bit slow, and this one's a runt."
"Akakios is special, not a runt. He will be a real asset to us in the future."
"And how do you know than Kleon?"
"Because, Epiktetos, you may be able to see fish at a mile, but I can see what people will become."
"Oh, and what will Irenaeus become?"
"A senator in Rome."
"And the little one?"
"Well, that would be telling and he doesn't want me to."
"Ok, so how do you know Irenaeus is going to be a senator?"
"I know his father. He was sent here to gain some real world experience."
"Rumors, Kleon. All you have is rumors."
"The trick, brother, is to know which rumors count."
Epiktetos laughed at this, and I assumed that I was accepted as a member of our strange crew.
That didn't change the fact that I wasn't as guileless as Kleon thought me.
I lay there looking up at the constellations, naked from the waist up.
I was nearing the age when I would have to join the military, and become an adult, but I did not want to do that. I wanted to stay with the ship.
"Akakios, are you there, lad."
I scrambled to find my shirt, but Kleon climbed over the side of the beached vessel.
"Oh, don't worry, lad. I know. I've known all along, and so has my brother."
"Know what?"
"That you're a girl."
I blushed, but he wouldn't know that in the darkness.
"I'm not a girl, Kleon."
"Yes, I know that you have a great male thing between your legs, but that doesn't change how you act, or the mounds of flesh you try to hide."
I couldn't help it and I began to cry.
"Child, relax. I'm not here to hurt you."
"But, I am not normal. I'm no man, nor can I be it seems. I'm also no woman. No man would take me like this. I can bear no children."
I cried some more and Kleon gathered me into his arms. I leaned my head on his chest, and cried.
"I turn seventeen in two months."
"Born in Hekatombion were you. You never told us that."
"And I will be expected to enter military service."
"Women are not expected to enter service."
"Will some man marry me then?"
He said nothing and just held me. My sadness was overwhelming and I cried some more. He rubbed my back and made quieting noises.
"You would not last a month in the military, lass. It nearly broke me, and I am a mountain of a man, as you've said in the past."
"Put on your shirt. I have those that owe me."
I didn't understand his meaning, but I followed him through the nighttime streets of Athens. He led me to one of the larger houses, and then inside. I hesitated at the threshold, but he took my hand and dragged me bodily across it.
He took me into a room lit with hundreds of lamps. To my dark accustomed eyes it approached the brightness of day.
"Well, Kleon. Brought another of your strays to me?"
"This one is no stray. I need you to examine her for me."
The physician, for that is what I assumed he must be, turned toward me. "Strip lass, so I might get a look at you."
I blushed, but did as I was told. He walked around me, looking at my entire body. He made some measurements, and prodded my breasts a bit.
"Hmmm, very much has the appearance of a female, doesn't she. If she didn't have the one defect, I would be sure."
"Would you be willing to swear before the governor that this person is female?"
The physician look appraisingly at Kleon. "This would square us, you know that. A life for a life."
"Yes, it squares us old friend."
"I'll still look after your strays, you know that. But this would be the last favor."
"Do it then, old friend. It is worth the loss."
"How old are you, my dear?"
"Almost seventeen."
"You're going to have to get her married off, Kleon. She's quite the old maid."
"I'm working on that, old friend."
There was a startled look on the physician's kindly face, and he looked appraisingly at Kleon, "I do believe you might be at that. I will need both of you there to swear before the governor tomorrow."
He took me home to the boat and left me there with my thoughts. I had no idea what was going on, and I didn't believe what I thought I was hearing.
"Kleon, we can't do this. I'm not. . ."
"Shh. We can. I just need to discuss this with your father. I need no dowry."
I began to cry. "My father is dead. It's my fault."
"Shh. Dear. It's all right. Who was your father when he lived."
"Antonius."
"Antonius. . .you don't mean. . ."
"Yes, the former governor from Rome."
"Oh. . .then Antonius, the current governor. . ."
"Is my brother."
"Then we need to meet with your brother before we appear before him to swear to you being a woman."
He dragged me off into the night. I liked the feeling of his strength being exerted over me.
We came to the gates of my home, and he pounded on them until someone answered.
"Go away, we have no need. . .Apollonius? Where have you been lad?"
"We need to see the child's brother."
"It is highly irregular, but he has been looking for this one for months."
I was becoming more and more afraid. These halls were so familiar to me, and I expected to see my father come through a doorway at any moment.
"Apollonius, where have you been? We have been worried sick about you. When father was found dead, we were sure that someone had abducted you."
"Antonius, father tried to castrate me."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because of these."
I dropped my shirt and Antonius couldn't help but stare.
"Ye gods. Is this real or a dream?"
"I have seen no signs of Hypnos anywhere about, brother."
"It would seem that we should rename you Dianna."
"Brother!"
"Thank you sir for returning my brother to us."
"I did not come to return her to you, but to ask for her."
"Her?"
"A physician will be swearing her gender before you tomorrow."
"I see. This isn't some ploy to get a dowry out of me, is it?"
"All I ask in dowry is the girl herself."
"Do you accept this, Apollonius? You know what it would mean, marrying a Greek, and as a woman at that."
"I accept this, brother."
"Then, I'll hear this physician tomorrow. Tonight, though, I witness your betrothal."
I was taken at that point by the slaves so that they could prepare me to appear before my brother's court.
I looked at myself in the bronze mirror when they were done. I could see my mother's features in my face. The makeup I was given accentuated it. I was dressed in a female's toga and sandals.
Then I was rushed to the audience chamber.
It went in a blur, and before I even knew it, the physician was leaving, and many of the people were walking out.
When it was just Kleon and my family, my brother turned to us.
"The dowry you have asked is beyond value. It is everything that I have to give you."
"It is all that I ask. Your sister is the one who will make me a rich man."
"The value is acceptable then?"
"It is acceptable."
"Then accept the dowry."
That was normal for Athens. No formal declaration. I was a woman and married in the same day.
We walked out of my brother's house, and I felt content.
"So, we need a new name for you, since Akakios won't really fit."
"Then call me Akake."
"Akake it is, my innocent one. What should we do today?"
"If we hurry, we can still get the boat to the island before the calm."
My husband, Kleon, took my hand and we ran off to the rest of our lives.
"You're going to be a handful, aren't you, Akake."
"If I have anything to say about it? Of course."
What happens when the closest person to you in the whole universe reveals that she's not who you always thought she was?
"Jake, honey, could you come in here for a moment?"
"Sure thing. Mom."
I dropped my books in the hallway like normal, and went in to see her. Like usual she was baking. She seemed to love to bake in the afternoon when I got home from school, and today it was fresh bread. It seemed like most Mom's these days were either working outside the home, or content to just buy their bread at the store. Mine baked.
I smiled at the thought. A lot of the guys were jealous of me, which is why they would walk home with me. There is nothing like fresh baked bread when you get home from school and something rotten just happened.
There's nothing like warm cookies and milk.
There's nobody in the world like my Mom.
"What's up?"
"Jake, there's something we need to discuss with you, your father and I. We're worried about some of your friends. More specifically, we're worried about some bullying we've heard going on with one of the girls in your class."
"William isn't a girl, Mom."
"Have you been harassing Amy?"
"No, I haven't, but I'm not going to stop it either. That's what he gets for coming to school in skirts and makeup."
My Mom looked really sadly at me, and for a moment I thought she was going to cry. "I thought we'd raised you better than this."
I went out to the living room to play some Halo with my friends, but those words kept echoing in my head, "I thought we'd raised you better than this."
It's not like I actually did anything to her. . .him. . .whatever. It's not like I did anything for her either.
"Guys, I need to get some homework done," I told them not half an hour later. They'd all gotten their dose of bread and I wanted some time to think before my Dad got home.
I went up to my room. The walls were not a single color. They were my masterpiece. Some portions of them were thick with paint as I'd gone over them numerous times trying to get it all just right. I started painting the white walls of my room when I was seven.
Long ago I'd pained the sun rising over some distant hills on the window. Dad had helped me with the right mixture of paint so that it was translucent and lent a yellow cast to my room every morning. The rest of it was roiling clouds that changed as I painted. Someday I hoped to have it perfect, but there always seemed to be something missing, so I pained whenever I needed time to think.
I was on the ladder that I kept in my room to reach the ceiling when my Dad came in.
For the first time there was something other than clouds on my roof. I'd started painting a hole. I could see the blue sky.
"Jake, your Mom and I would like to have a talk with you." He seemed really sad about something.
"Okay, Dad. I'll be right there."
I went downstairs to the dining room and it was full family council mode. Mom and dad were on one side of the table, and I was on the other. Sometimes I wished that they'd been able to adopt more kids so I wouldn't be stuck alone on this side.
"Jake, honey, I'm really disappointed in how you've been treating Amy."
"But Mom. . ." I let a little whine creep into my voice.
"No buts, Jake. Haven't we taught you that everyone deserves a chance to express who they really are?"
"Yes, but. . ."
"And doesn't Amy deserve that sort of chance?"
"I guess. but I haven't done anything."
"Honey, sometimes that's enough. If your father hadn't done anything, I might be dead."
"Wait, what does this have to do with William?"
"I was born male, Jake."
I jumped back out of my chair. I looked from my Dad to my Mom and back again. "You're kidding, right? You're just trying to prove a point? It's not funny!"
My Dad sadly looked at me, "this is no joke, Jake."
"But, how could you be a guy, Mom. You're the perfect Mom. You've always been there for me, and comforted me. All the other guys are jealous of me."
I was hurt and confused. My parents had always let me know that I was adopted and why. Mom couldn't have any kids. They loved me as their own, and I felt that.
I thought I knew my family.
"I've never been a guy, Jake. I was always a girl inside. I never felt right with the world seeing me as a boy. I was about Amy's age when I transitioned myself."
I thought of Mom walking around like William, and suddenly I felt sick. I couldn't take this. I ran to my room and locked the door, and began to paint.
I climbed the ladder, and got out the white, and starting at the center of the two foot hole I'd created, I started to fill in the sky.
She was my Mom
But she was a guy.
I couldn't bring myself to think of her as 'he' even with this revelation. I knew she was a girl. I'd occasionally seen her naked. Not intentionally of course, and not recently. I remembered getting baths as a little guy, and accidentally walking in on her once or twice. She started locking the door on me when I turned five, but that was a Mom thing.
I remembered her bringing cup cakes and cookies to soccer games.
I remembered all of the fresh bread.
I sat down at the foot of the ladder and cried. When I looked up again, I realized that I'd not been painting clouds, but an angel with its arms open to embrace me. The edges were rough so I finished them, and then began to work on the face. I'd tried faces often enough in school, but never on my walls. And in the space I had it wasn't very big. so mostly I just gave the impression of a face, with a beautiful smile.
I lay down on my bed and looked up at her, my angel. When I turned my head one way, it seemed to look like my mother. When I turned my head the other it seemed to look like. . .Amy?
My heart started to race as I sat there and looked up at that beautiful face. Yes, in the quiet of my room I could admit that I thought she was beautiful. I guess that is part of the reason that I'd not done anything for her. I was afraid how the other guys would take it. Afraid they'd think I was into guys or something.
Would that be so bad if it was for her?
I smiled a goofy smile. I didn't even know if she was into guys.
When I was younger, I'd wanted to find someone like my Mom to marry. I always thought that she was perfect.
Maybe now, I would.
"LOKI!"
"Yes, Odin? Great one-eyed god?" And all around party pooper.
"What is this?"
The 'this' in question was of course one of my more clever constructs. The humans all seemed infatuated with it for some reason. Don't they realize it was all a joke? I mean information super highway? Puh-leaze!
"A series of tubes connected with string? Information is piped through them in little trucks too tiny to see. . ."
"I know things, Loki, and trying to convince me that electrons passing along copper wiring are trucks. . ."
"Photons in glass, actually. Most of the internet is fiber-optic these days."
"Regardless. So, this 'internet' is supposed to help us how?"
My, for a god of knowledge, he sure is dense.
"It's supposed to help the humans, not us. We don't much matter any longer."
"What?! How can you say that when we haven't even had our apocalypse yet?"
"We missed the boat on that one, Oady-baby."
"Do I need to remind you the price of insolence?"
"With you sitting here in a three piece suit, and the two of us in middle America? Odin, you're a washed up has-been. Me? I'm a tech magnate, or I was until that whole little anti-trust thing."
"Will you give it up already, Loki? Or do you like 'Bill' better?"
"Watch it. I'm retired. Loki is fine."
"Well, Loki, then as the one with the most real power left, I suggest that you make people believe in us again."
"Odin, it is about time we all faded into the past. I mean do you REALLY want to be around when Thor finally hits theaters?"
"Thor has resurfaced?"
I did a mental face palm at this.
"Okay, Oday. It's time I was going. See you next week, okay?"
I waved to the orderlies and nurses as I left. They recognized me of course, and thought the old man was my father suffering from dementia. Or as you folks like to call it today Alzheimer's.
The thing is, I really used to be Loki. I used to be a god. Notice the small G. I think there might really be a God out there, but if so he has one wicked sense of humor.
So, here I was on a quiet Saturday afternoon, wondering if people reading this in English realize how much the Norse really affected their understanding of the universe, and it sort of hits me: Why can't I do something to help these people?
So, I began scanning through wishes, which as any former god knows are non-denominational prayers.
"I wish I were rich."
Too easy.
"I wish she would notice me."
Too boring.
"I wish I had a $$$$ the size of. . ."
Too blasé.
"I wish I were a girl."
Too. . .wait a minute. Oh, this was going to be fun. Fun like I hadn't had in a gods age.
So, looking in, it was almost perfect. Too perfect. I'd need to verify this one, make sure it wasn't a cross-wiring fluke.
I stepped through the wall into the guys room. "Hi, I'm Loki."
"You look a lot like B. . ."
I interrupt him, "Yeah, I get that a lot. Was the only way I could get you people to construct a joke for me."
"Joke?"
"Sorry, it's Norse thing. You wouldn't get it. You lack the cultural references."
"Okay."
"So, Scott I believe your name was? Right, did you mean what you said back there? You wish you were a girl?"
The big guy blushed. Let me give you a before image of Scotty boy. Big, and I mean Free-Willey big. Greasy long hair. Pimples. Kid can't be more than sixteen. Oh, yeah, and he's destroying a pair of size 6 panties. Unfortunately for me, that's all he was wearing.
"Yeah, I wish I was a girl with all the right clothes so I could feel more like, well, myself."
Himself was a size 6? Wow, and people call me delusional. Oh well.
"I now cede the stage to you, Scott. This is actually your story after all."
I moved toward the window. Moving through walls always gives me a headache.
"Oh, by the way, wish granted."
In this one, I was about three-hundred pounds again. I still had my freckles, but the pimples, which are long gone, were back with a vengeance. My long hair is quite a bit longer than it was back then, when I really wished that I could have been born different.
It was when Bill Gates showed up and looked at my underwear that I realized that I was wearing my sisters panties again.
He said something about being Loki, and granting me my wish.
Let me mention something before I go on. I have felt out of place my entire life. I was always. . .different from my peers. I grew up feeling like I was a girl. Hence all the weird dreams. I was born male, even though most people now find that hard to believe.
I let out a slight moan as I sat up, and two things felt different. The first was that I was a lot lighter than I remembered. The second was that my voice was higher pitched.
I put my hand to my throat, and felt a couple of scratches. I looked intently at my hand, and realized I had perfectly manicured nails. There was a light purple polish on them.
"Okay, that's different." Again, the higher pitched voice issuing from my throat.
"Hey, looks like Scott scored big last night. What's your name, hot stuff?"
"Mark, I am Scott. What are you going on about?"
"Scott doesn't have a pair like that."
Most nights I slept in the nude, and this was no different. I bothered my roomie, Mark, no end. I mostly did it because I had a bit of a crush on him. I wanted some kind of reaction out of him. Anything at all.
I was getting that now in spades. I didn't even try to cover myself, as I was enjoying the reaction my nudity was finally getting.
"Mark, dude, it really is me."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"If you were really Scott, there's no way you'd kiss me."
"Actually, Mark, I've had a crush on you since we moved in here the beginning of freshman year."
"Scott?"
"You knew?"
"Everyone knew, man. I'm not gay, but I was flattered."
"Would you believe that I'm not really gay either? I always thought of myself as female."
"Well, your outside matches now."
I blushed, and for the first time since waking up, I was bothered by my nakedness. I dove under the covers, and hid my face. I felt someone sit down beside me.
Then a hand touched my shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Scott. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I think you are lovely, and I'd really enjoy getting to know you better."
"You mean use me and discard me like all your casual conquests?"
"No. I mean get to really know you. You are one of the smartest people I know, and there's no way I'm going to keep calling you Scott. It's too weird."
"Well, what would you like to call me instead," I said, very shy all of the sudden.
"Well, it's really up to you, but you seem kind of like a Jane or Janet to me."
"I could live with you calling me Jane. But I think I'll take a middle name of Carol."
"Jane Carol Hayward? Sure. Ok, I'm going to leave you in here and you can try and find something of S. . .yours that might fit."
I popped my head out of the covers. "Wait, Mark, please don't go. Turn your back if you mut, but don't leave me here alone."
"This is totally freaking me out, dude. I need some air."
I began to cry a bit, "Please?" I said very softly.
He sighed, "Fine. I'll go look out the window."
I giggled and as soon as his back was turned I went to get a pair of underwear. Where I expected to find boxers, I found lace and satin, with a touch of cotton here and there.
I gasped.
"Jane is something wrong?" Mark said as he began to turn around.
"Mark! No peeking!"
I slipped the panties up my legs and realized that they were hairless. I smiled to myself. They fit perfectly, and the feel of them on my skin was luxurious.
Next to my panties I found some bras. I rummaged through them a little 'til I found a matching pair of light purple with a touch of lace. Same as the panties. In satin like the panties.
"Well, that's convenient."
The second drawer down still had tee shirts, but they were girl's tees.
"What's conve. . .wow."
"Mark!?"
"Sorry, I couldn't help it. Where'd you get the lingerie?"
"My drawer. Apparently my clothing changed as well."
He came and stood next to me and I could feel the warmth of him, and I leaned into him as he looked through my lower drawers. Girl's jeans. A couple of denim skirts.
"Well, get something on. I want to see you in some of this."
I picked a pair of hip huggers and a midriff baring tee. If anything his boxers were even more tented than when I was naked. I smiled, but he didn't notice as he wasn't looking at my face.
"Well, looks like I really did interpret your tastes well from all your conquests."
"Huh? Oh, sorry. You just have a nice wiggle as you're pulling on those jeans."
"You could help me out of them again if you liked."
"Jane!"
"Mark, I have never had sex, not as Scott, and never as Jane, of course. I ache to be a part of a union."
"Jane, I don't. . ."
"Aren't I pretty enough?"
"that is so not it, Jane. You're not the sort of girl I mount and the boot out the door. You're the sort of girl I take home to momma."
"Um. . ."
"Jane, I know you pretty well. You've been there for me, and apart for the nightly strip tease, which never did anything for me, you never pushed your need on me."
"A lot of us knew that you loved me, but we also knew that you respected me too much to do anything about it."
"Mark. . ."
"No, Jane, I can't be worthy of you if I don't show you that same respect."
"Worthy? I don't understand."
"Jane, look, Lately I've been realizing that the main thing that has been missing from all of my relationships was you."
"What?"
"Last night, before we went to bed, I made a wish. I wished that I were a girl for you."
"But, how?"
"I felt that you were such a manly guy, that you never would have changed yourself for me, so last night, I wished that I could change for you."
I couldn't help it. I began to laugh. "Me manly? It was all an act, Mark."
"I know that, now, but I realized that over the last couple of years I've grown from simply your friend, to wanting so much more. I know this is sudden, but on the other hand we've been circling each other since we both arrived."
He dropped down on one knee before me, and from somewhere pulled out a ring box. "Jane Carol Hayward, would you. . ? I mean could you. .?"
I kissed him to shut up his fumbling for the right words.
"Does this mean yes?"
"Of course it does."
He kissed me back, and then put the ring on my finger.
"Originally when I bought it, it was a simple gold band. Looks like all of your clothing changed."
It was a very pretty engagement ring, and I loved how it sparkled on my finger.
"So, can we do this all sooner rather than later?"
"Of course, Jane. We've already been living together for two years after all. Besides, you were always the one with the self control, if we don't get married soon, I think we might end up doing something I might regret."
"Thank you Loki."
"Who?"
"Apparently he invented the internet."
"Loki did?"
"Yeah, Loki. He also granted your real wish. He made me into a woman for you." I smiled up into my fiancé's face, and he kissed me again. Then he lead me for the door.
"Where are we going?"
"My parent's house. I told you that you're the sort of girl that I bring home to mother."
"I'm not wearing anything that would be worthy of meeting your mom."
"Sure you are. Loki made sure of it."
Well, it made me feel strange to see the two of them walk off hand in hand, laughing and generally flirting. I figured it must be a case of heartburn.
Now, who is the next person out there who wishes they were a girl. Or boy. I'm not picky. Just so long as I can get more people to believe.
I was nineteen when I first realized that something was really off about me. Not that other people hadn't noticed it before, but that I'd simply never noticed it about myself.
I was already a poor starving student, which lead to my slight build. Not that I was, or more correctly considered myself, effeminate, just that I was wiry.
I don't now remember where I initially heard about them, but storage auctions were my main source of income. Storage seems to be one of the most commonly rented property in the US. People always seem to have more stuff than they know what to do with, so they rent these garage looking things and just toss it all in there.
Occasionally, people fail to pay their bill, which is where I come in. Once a week, usually Saturday, I would make the rounds of the storage companies to see what was up for auction. Then, when you won, they'd cut the lock and you'd get to see what was there.
Tables and chairs, antiques if you're lucky, and lots of clothing.
I made a pretty good living at it, but most of it went to my schooling. MIT is not a cheap school, and I wasn't quite smart enough to qualify for a scholarship.
Even with student loans, I would need to come up with part of it. Eating ramen noodles I was able to go to school and buy my textbooks and not have to get a loan for school.
I figured that when I finished school, I would be ahead of most of the poor schmucks that would still need to pay off their loans before really living their lives.
Saturday morning, I arrived at one of my more favorite places in the world, or at least for work: Adamantium Secure Storage.
The reason it was my favorite was that I had lucked into antiques the last three times I'd bid here. That had paid off a couple of short term loans I'd taken out, as well as swelled my bank account enough to cover the next two semesters of college. Too bad Adamantium Secure Storage only auctioned once every month or so.
As soon as I had enough saved up to cover the rest of school, I'd either continue working to get me some better food. . .or stop working and pick up a heavier course load to help me finish school faster.
I'd probably opt for the second.
"We're opening the bids for this unit at five hundred dollars. The previous owner opted to insure this unit, and there is a good possibility of a reasonable return."
"500." said a middling pretty, middle aged woman.
Having done this for a while, I knew how to get the amateurs, those who usually made the lowest bid, and stepped up in small increments, to quit or step up.
"1000 dollars."
"1001," again from the woman.
"1500" said Stan, one of the other bidders I was well familiar with.
"1501," from the woman.
"2000," from Stan.
The woman looked nervous. That wasn't normal for a newbie. She had a stake in this. I've got it.
"2001," she finally said. There was hope in her eye.
"5000."
Stan gasped. I'd never made that big a jump, but he wanted a piece of the action.
"5500."
"6000," from the woman. She was starting to get it. But I had quite a bit of savings I could use on this.
"10,000." I said.
The managers eyes bugged out. Stan cursed. The woman teared up a bit, and began to walk away.
The manager cut the lock, and I immediately put on one of my own. I wanted to have the truck I'd rented here so I could start moving things into it. The small crowd of bidders followed the manager to the next unit for the day, and I went out to get my truck.
Opening the storage locker, my eyes were met with stacks of boxes. I'd sort them out later, well, the relatively light ones I would. I kept an eye out for markings of 'fragile' as I moved the boxes into the truck.
Antiques. A lot of them. The other reason I liked Adamantium was the size of their storage lockers. This was one of the largest at fifteen feet wide and thirty deep. I didn't trust myself to move any of this on my own, so I called my antiques broker and then unpacked the moving blankets.
He brought some employees, and we got everything in the van and over to his shop without any new damage. My estimate was a bit high. His appraisal put the total at right around $300,000.
We made the normal arrangement for the usual fee.
I went home, dropped off the boxes, and returned the truck.
I began to go through the boxes, and found clothes. Nice clothes, sure, but probably destined for Goodwill or another charity shop. They were in my size, so I began to look through them determining what I would keep, and what I would donate.
I was about halfway through the boxes when I ran into something truly shocking. There were a pair of breasts in the box, just looking up at me. The box was filed with underwear. Women's underwear.
I picked up the clear plastic bag the breasts were in, and noticed a piece of paper in with them. It was instructions on use. Breast forms.
I dropped them in the box like a hot potato, and moved on to the next box. Blouses and skirts. I opened box after box and found more women's clothing. All in all, only nine boxes had women's clothing in them. I continued to sort the clothing I thought I'd wear. But the feel of those breasts kept coming back to me. I wondered what it would be like to wear some of those skirts as well. Something with a cute matching top. I thought that I'd seen. . .
I shook my head to try and get the images of coordinating tops out of my head, and it worked, mostly, until I finished sorting all of the boxes of men's clothing.
I took a deep breath, and before I lost my nerve, I dove into the first box. I took our the breast forms and a bra and panty set. They were a pretty pink color. Simple high cut cotton panties, and a matching cotton bra.
The panties were easy enough, but the bra gave me a little bit of difficulty. I got it on, and then got the breast forms situated. I picked out a blouse and skirt and slipped them on as well. I went to look at myself in the mirror. The clothing complemented my form, and accentuated the slight widening of my hips. I'd never been a really hairy man, but the hair on my legs was visible, and I hadn't shaved my face this morning either. I quickly shaved both, and looked at myself again. I'd let my hair grow a little long, so I had some there to brush out, and I used some of my roommate's hair spray.
The look seemed to work for me. I air kissed my image and went back to the work of sorting, this time the girl's clothing. I was thinking it might not hurt to find what was still in style and what wasn't.
I heard a lock in the door and assumed that it must be my roommates coming home. I lived with five other guys at the time.
"Hey, babe, is Jake in then?"
I froze. I'd been so comfortable, that I'd forgotten that I was in women's clothing. I turned around shocked.
"Wow, Jake really scored this time. You meet him at the storage place? My name's Brad."
"I know who you are, Brad."
"Do we have a class together?"
I was shocked. "Brad, I'm Jake."
"That explains so much," Seth said.
"Huh?"
"Well, you never wanted to play football with us, and the only other girl out there is butch. "
"But I'm a guy."
"Jake, even if that's padding up top, you never really acted like a guy."
They helped me move the girl's clothing to my room and removed the guy's clothing. They let everyone on campus know that they were there to protect me, like they were my brothers or something. Somehow, it never really bothered me. Transitioning into a girl full time was a blessing, and I used a good portion of my money to complete the change.
The guys don't play football on Saturday any more. I think it's because Brad fancies me. He is over at my new dorm room every night, and maybe I'll have to ask him out, if he won't get up the nerve to do it on his own.
I sat in my room and looked out the window. So many choices lay before me, and I didn't know which one to take.
The past couple of weeks had opened up so many possibilities to my mind, and now, things that I took for granted were no longer the stable and permanent things I thought them to be. It was as if I'd sunk my foundation into bedrock only to find that it was clay instead.
I guess I should start at the beginning of the tale.
I hadn't wanted to go to the sorority party. There were rumors on campus as to how they got new members, since they never participated in rush week. Even so, they had new members every year. They were the only sorority I knew of on campus that even had seniors join it.
I figured that there would be a lot of cute girls there, and being a hot-blooded American male, or so I considered myself, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to get with a girl or two at a sorority party.
Yes, I was of two minds on the subject. What convinced me to go was the fact that no one I knew was going.
I know, it seems counter intuitive, but there it is.
I'm not explaining this well. I need to go back a couple of days before the party to really give you a feel for what is going on.
I was just getting out of my morning session in the gym when one of the prettiest girls I'd seen on campus walked up to me and handed me an envelope. My name was embossed in gold leaf and it was sealed with a lipstick kiss on the back.
I looked up to ask the girl what this was for, but she was gone already.
"Brian, you coming?"
"Just a minute, Cody." I put the envelope in my gym bag and promptly forgot about it.
I went to breakfast with my friend, and then to the rest of my day. School was pretty normal for me that day. I flirted with my lab partner, Becky, and played some x-box with my roommates to wind down.
I was engrossed in an intense fire fight when one of my friends who wasn't playing tried to get my attention, "so, what do you think about it, Brian?"
"Huh?" I was killed just as I looked up to try to understand the question. "Dude, Steve, what the ****. You just got me killed."
"Sorry, man."
I set down the controller and looked over at him, "now that you have my undivided attention, what did you want?"
"I was just thinking that the four of us should try for a fraternity next fall."
"Why would we do that?"
"Plasma television for one," Cody chimed in.
"Better parties for another," Steven seconded.
Andy just shrugged at me and turned back to the game.
"Guys, we discussed this earlier this year. Two of you chickened out at the last minute."
"Yeah well," Steve said looking at the threadbare carpeting, "I thought it would be worse than it was. Cody and I spent this year checking out the different fraternities and seeing what they expected of new members."
"And now since you have a little knowledge you're less scared?"
"Exactly!" Cody exulted. "We know we can do this."
"Ok, I'm game if you guys are."
With that settled I went back to my game.
I was awakened at two in the morning by my cell phone going off.
"Hello?" I answered groggily.
"Did you get a chance to look over the invitation?" A sultry voice said over the phone.
"Invitation?"
"Amber said that she delivered it to you this morning. We thought you would like the time to think it over."
"Crap. . ."
I fumbled through my things trying to find my gym bag. I reached in and found the envelope.
"Look, can I call you back. It slipped my mind and I haven't had the chance to look at it yet."
"Don't take too long, handsome."
Her voice sent chills down my spine where they settled for a moment before shooting out into my extremities.
I opened the letter and looked over the invitation.
New horizons open with Nu Beta Nu.
A party at Nu Beta Nu and I'd been invited. As far as I knew, the Nu Beta Nu girls went to parties, but never held them at their house.
I spent the next couple of days trying to determine who else would be at the party and I got everything from derision to disbelief in the people I questioned.
Well, everyone except for Becky.
"The Nu Beta Nu parties get pretty wild."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, they are really exclusive as well. Only members of Nu Beta Nu and a few select invitees are allowed to come to them."
"Come. . ."
"Didn't you know? I'm a member of Nu Beta Nu."
Yeah, that was the moment I went from indecisive to 'hell yeah I'm going.'
Becky wasn't, nor would she ever be in my opinion, gorgeous. She was more of a girl-next-door type. Wholesome and cute, with the right amount of sex appeal to remind you that she was all woman.
So, I called the number of my mystery caller right after the lab ended.
"You certainly took your time responding, Mr. Forsythe."
"Sorry, I wanted to see what I was getting myself into. I'm still not sure, but if someone as nice as Becky is a member of your sorority, then I figure I can't go too far wrong."
"Pleased to hear it. We will be by at eight on Friday to guide you to the event."
I dressed in some of my party clothes and played some video games while I waited. It always seemed that I was waiting for someone when I went out on Friday nights.
There was a soft knock at the door and I opened it.
The redheaded Amber and Becky were at the door.
"Hey, Becky. I'm ready when you are."
"We just need you to put this on." She handed me a black blindfold, which I put on with a little thrill of anticipation.
When I was done, and they were sure I couldn't see anything, they each took me by the hand and led me out into the night.
If you've never been led around a college campus on a Friday night by a couple of beautiful women, then you should try it some time. I was having some difficulty walking by the time we stopped walking, due to the tightness in my jeans.
"Step up here," I heard Becky say, and with only a couple of stumbles I got up a short flight of concrete stairs. Then I smelled perfume and wax and a door closed behind me.
"Step up again," Becky said, and we headed up a much longer set of wooden stairs. One of the girls was pressed to my front, and the other was behind me. I could only assume that it was a narrow staircase.
I was ushered into another room, one that echoed slightly, and brought to a halt. I could hear the rustling of dresses and the shuffling of feet. I had no idea what I was in for, but I would soon find out.
"Gentlemen, welcome to the inner sanctum of Nu Beta Nu." It was the voice from the phone. It was even more sexy now.
"I want to let you know that everything you do from this point forward will have to be your choice. Some of you we know belong here in Nu Beta Nu. Some of you, on the other hand, we're not quite as sure about. Our sisters have scouted each of you out, and we've selected the thirteen students who have the opportunity to join our ranks this year."
"I haven't been a gentleman for quite a while," a feminine voice said from somewhere to my left.
"Samantha, we know. I was mostly saying this for the other guests. And before you ask, no you can't take the blindfold off yet. We have rituals to go through, the same each of us went through in the beginning."
"Um, rituals?" This was asked by another voice, this one definitely male.
"Nothing like you're obviously thinking Robert. We do everything here in a certain order. It protects our sorority, and in turn allows us to protect our sisters."
She paused for a moment as if trying to find her train of thought, and then continued, "As I mentioned before all of this is voluntary and at no point will that change. This is our initiation and pledge all in one. You are being offered a place with us."
"Wait, what?" I think that was me, but a number of the guys spoke up at this.
We quieted down a bit and someone yelled into the silence, "boys don't join sororities!"
There was general giggling at this. It was at that moment that I realized we were surrounded by girls.
"At one point every member of Nu Beta Nu stood where you stand now. We did our weekend trial and then joined the ranks of the sisterhood. We have never had every member of a pledge join us. The most we've had is five, and once we had an entire pledge group fail to complete the weekend."
She paused for effect before continuing, "before you decide, let me explain the nature of this weekend to you all. It is an opportunity for you to see what life is like from a different perspective."
"Does that mean you're all gay?"
"Of course not. Many of us are hetero. Only a few of us like girls."
There was chuckling and giggling at this.
This was a different world than I'd ever thought I'd be in. It scared me shitless.
"You will be spending the entire weekend with the sister, or sisters, that guided you here. They are your sponsors. At some point they may decide that you just don't fit with the precepts of Nu Beta Nu. At some point you may decide that the precepts don't fit you."
"This is a weekend of discovery for all of you, and we hope that you enjoy it while it lasts.
"Girls, if you'll please escort our new ladies to your rooms, we can begin."
I heard a few minor protests, but everyone went peaceably, or at least so it seemed. I was still blindfolded.
I felt when we entered the room. I could just sense the pink. It was strangely comforting, and relaxing. Course it might have just reminded me of my older sisters room, at least by the smell.
"We need for you to remove your clothing and then we'll present you with your name for the weekend." Amber said.
"Name?"
"Every girl needs a name, Brian. For the weekend, you will be a girl," Becky said into my ear.
I was in a room with two women, and they'd just asked me to remove my clothing. Of course I complied.
I wasn't a god, but neither was I ashamed of my physique. I was a little small for a guy at 5'8", but that didn't really matter much to me. I'd always been able to find girls shorter than I was.
They measured me, and I felt myself becoming aroused at the contact. This was the sexiest. . .anything I'd ever been to. Even if I left here this evening before anything else happened, this would be a memory that I carried with me forever. One that would be in my dreams forever.
The door opened and closed. I felt something pressed against my chest and I took hold of it. It was a silky material of some sort.
"Put this on, Chastity. Becky's gone to get you something to wear for the evening after we've finished with you." Her voice didn't quite match her face, but it was still pretty. She sounded as if she'd be an alto if she sang.
"Chastity?"
"It's your name, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess," I said trying to make my voice sound a little higher pitched. She giggled at me. "What's your name?" I asked.
"Amber."
I mentally face palmed myself for that one. I'd heard her name before.
"Is that the name they gave you when you came here?"
"No, my parents named me Amber."
"Um, but. . ?" My confusion was evident.
"My parents are of the opinion that children don't get the option to pick their names, so when I told them what I was planning on doing, they told me that my name was going to be Amber if I went through with it. I did, and now it is."
My parents. I'd been so aroused that I hadn't been thinking clearly. I take that back. I was thinking clearly, just not about anything other than sex with two beautiful girls.
I had no idea what my parents would think about this. Neither could I believe that I was taking any of this seriously.
"How come you sound so natural?"
"Lots of practice. And voice lessons. I always had a slightly higher pitched voice, so that came in handy when I went through my transition, but learning the way a girl speaks didn't hurt."
"The way a girl speaks?"
"If you haven't noticed, men and women speak differently from each other, for the most part. Learn the mannerisms and you learn the part."
"You sound like my high school drama teacher."
"I am a drama major. I played Juliette last semester."
"No kidding. . ."
"Chastity, Amber, it sounds as though you two hit it off." Becky said as she entered the room.
"When can I take the blindfold off?"
"When we are done with everything but your face."
That didn't really answer my question, but I let it slide for now.
"At each stage of this process, we give you the option to go no further. This has to be your choice, Chastity."
"Ok, Becky. What's first."
"We wax your legs."
"You what?!"
"Oh, don't be a baby. We know you're a swimmer and shave your legs before every meet. This is just a little more than that."
I closed my eyes, even thought they were blindfolded, and nodded. "Go ahead."
I have to admit that I was intrigued. Yes, like she'd said, I was a swimmer, and I shaved my legs before meets. Well, not only that, I shaved every inch of hair on my body before a meet. Head to toes. I'd even considered getting a Brazilian. . .
I felt something being spread on my leg, and enjoyed it for a moment. . .before it was ripped off. I would never suggest a girl get her legs waxed. . .ouch. . .again.
I winced every time that the wax went on my legs, but I was determined not to make a sound. They finished the backs of my thighs and buttocks and moved down to my calves. They then flipped me over and worked their way up. They were completely thorough and removed every scrap of hair, or so I thought, from my neck down. By the time they were done, the room felt a lot colder, and the robe I'd been handed earlier felt a lot better against my skin.
They then sat me in the chair and worked on my hands and feet. I began to get into the chatter, and they began to instruct me in the fine art of sounding like a girl.
It was kind of fun. I could see why some businessmen liked manicures.
I smelled the chemical smell of nail polish, and knew what was coming next, but they asked me anyway.
"Chastity, may we paint your fingernails and toenails?"
"Yes, Becky, you may."
They painted my nails, and let them dry before they went on to the next task.
"May we put underwear and breast forms on you, Chastity?"
"Yes." I tried this time to sound as feminine as I could. I think I did a passable job.
I felt something being slid up my legs, and just before it was pulled into place, one of the two tucked my willie between my legs. The panty was snugged into place, and the growing erection had nowhere to go.
It was a bit uncomfortable for a moment, but then I took a deep breath and relaxed. It slowly went away.
I felt something cool being put on my chest, and then the straps of a bra were put into place.
They removed the blindfold, and I could see the room for the first time. Yep, pink.
My fingers were in a sort of mint green, but I couldn't see my toes in the position I was sitting. They began to work on my face. More waxing. My facial hair and some of my eyebrows went this time. Then they really went to work.
They worked on my makeup, putting it on, and then taking it off, looking for my colors I supposed. Eventually they decided that they had it just right. They stood me up and took off the bathrobe from around my shoulders. They carefully pulled a nightgown over my head, and then touched up my makeup for me. Last, they put a wig on my head and got it situated just so. They pinned it in place with bobby pins, and then turned me to see myself in the mirror.
I was at least as good looking as either of the girls standing next to me. I made a kissing face at the mirror, and the three of us giggled. They helped me to remove the makeup, and the three of us collapsed on the pillows on the floor.
They spent a while telling me their stories, and I told them about my sister.
We were the best of friends while I was growing up, even though she'd been ten years older than me. No, I'd never thought about trying on any of her clothing. That was her stuff, and snot nosed brothers just didn't do that.
I'd had a special relationship with my sister, and it was a really hard think for me when she'd died her first year of college. Her name had been Chastity.
"We can change it if you want. None of us here knew."
"No, it's alright. I don't mind it that much."
We went to sleep cuddled on the floor. I had some very vivid dreams that night, most of which seemed to involve either Becky, Amber, or both. We needed to change my panties the next morning.
The rest of the weekend progressed as more of the same. Time with Becky. Time with Amber. We even went shopping at the mall. While we were there, a guy I'd seen once or twice at the college walked up to us.
"You seem really familiar to me. I've seen you a couple of times in the mall today, and I just can't place where I know you from."
"I'm attending the college. The same one you are."
"You're not going to give me any more than that, are you?"
I just shook my head and smiled at him.
"Well, the least you can do is let me take you on a date tomorrow night."
I was about to say no, but Becky spoke up before I could say anything, "She'd love to."
"Yes, I'll go with you tomorrow night."
"It's a date then."
"What are you doing?" I asked as soon as he'd walked away.
"Not all of us get the opportunity to try dating before the end of our weekend. It's a perfect way to get the whole experience."
"What if I would prefer to be a lesbian?"
"Well, that's just something that you'll have to figure out, but don't shut yourself off to possible experiences."
The look in her eyes, though, told me something different. She had sponsored me because she liked me as a person, and wanted to see if me being a girl would spark a more physical attraction for her. Apparently it did.
"Becky, if you'd prefer. . ."
"Oh no, you go on this date. Please? It is a really special moment for any girl. Her first boy/girl date."
"Okay. I'll do it for you."
We went back to shopping, only this time we had a purpose. We were looking for the perfect outfit for tomorrow. We got heels and a dress, and for a moment I even considered getting my ears pierced. That was just a bit further than even I was willing to go for a girl.
We went back to the chapter house, and I spent the rest of Saturday, and most of Sunday, working on my mannerisms. It was a crash course on girl.
He came to pick me up, and he was a perfect gentleman. He held the door for me, and sat me at the table. It was. . .a very special evening. Becky had been right. I flirted with him, and even held his hand briefly during the movie. When he put his hand on my knee I disengaged. He removed his hand from my knee, but I didn't hold his hand for the rest of the movie. He was still pleasant to be with.
It was like being out with the guys, but with an added zing of sexuality mixed into it. I have to admit I kind of liked it.
When he dropped me off at the Nu Beta Nu chapter house, we talked for a bit, and then he kissed me. I let him, but I didn't reciprocate. I wasn't sure what I wanted from it all.
"So, how was it?" Becky asked as soon as I got back up to the room.
We rehashed the date, and I told her about the kiss.
"Was it anything like this?"
She kissed me full on the lips, and this time I didn't even hesitate to reciprocate.
We kissed for a while before a breathless Becky pushed back. "So, was it?"
"Nothing like that, Becks. Nothing at all." I sighed, and both of us giggled. I changed out of my girly clothes, and back into the clothes I'd worn on Friday when I first arrived. I cleaned off the makeup. I put the blindfold back on. I got a bit of a wedgie from my boxer shorts without the normal friction from the hair. I had to keep picking it out, all the while wondering idly if this is what a thong felt like.
"Gentleman, and lady, you are the only ones who are left with us after the weekend. You now have a decision to make. Join Nu Beta Nu, or go back to the rest of your life. Your escorts will lead you back to your rooms throughout campus. We give you to the end of the week to make your decision."
They led me back to my room, and I went about my normal week, with one minor exception. There were more giggles between Becky and I during our labs. More overt flirting, and some slight touching.
The time of the deadline came upon me before I knew it.
I sat in my room and looked out the window. So many choices lay before me, and I didn't know which one to take.
Edited by the ever patient Julia Phillips.
Some things in this world are easy decisions to make, and some on the other hand are not so easy.
I had always considered myself to be the consummate actor, able to play any role. Unfortunately the critics never agreed with me. They thought me wooden and lackluster. Or they thought me to be melodramatic and over exuberant.
The only thing they really agreed on was that they thought I stunk like week old beef in the hot Texas sun.
If you couldn't hear it, yes, I have a Texan accent. It doesn't usually come through in what I write, but listen closely, and you might just hear it.
Since few of you will remember me from the show, since even fewer of you watched it, I will take a moment to tell you a little about myself. First, let me assure you, that contrary to the rumors. . .you know what. I'll begin at the start of the tale and work my way from there.
I was married, and I loved my wife more than life itself. That was never more apparent than when I was looking down the barrel of my shotgun and considering how I was going to pull the trigger while pointing it at my head.
She was dead and the only thing in this world I wanted was to join her.
We wrote our own personal vows. We had promised that we would be joined for eternity. I told her I would never love another woman as long as I lived, and I intended to live up to that promise.
Some would say that I was too young to get married. Too young to know what love is. In my opinion, nineteen is not too young.
Sixteen isn't too young either.
The teen who was driving the vehicle that broadsided us was only sixteen. Aimee and I were both twenty three.
I visit him periodically to see how he's doing. I think he is more surprised by my change in circumstances than even I am.
So, back to me in a darkened apartment, my wife's clothing spread around me, the fifth of scotch empty on the floor, and the TV blaring in the other room in a probably futile attempt to drown out the gunshot.
That's when I heard the commercial. Everyone in the Dallas area will have heard it, as well as people living in any of the other sixteen markets where it aired, but for those of you who didn't hear it, I relate it here.
"Ladies! Reality TV producer Mark Shurtleff is looking for the most lovely single ladies for the opportunity of a lifetime. Do you have what it takes to be the next reality TV star? Do you want to be on a show similar to the Bachelor or Joe Millionaire? If you said yes then contact us now at the number 707-555-1432. Only the first thousand callers will have the opportunity to sit in a screening with Mark to see if you might just be the next reality TV star."
I admit. I was drunker than a skunk and as nervous as a whore in church when I made that call. Now, I have a natural tenor voice, and I played my share of female roles up on the boards, so I put on my best lady Macbeth, without the horrible British accent, and said, "I saw your commercial on TV and I was wondering if I might have been one of the first thousand callers."
"Miss, if you look anything like you sound, then there should be a spot for you. We are obligated to ask if you are now married, or if you are in a long term relationship and may become married within the next six months." The woman on the phone sounded like a bit of a hag. I imagined her to be overweight with wiry gray hair, and red lipstick.
"No, I'm not married, and I'm not in any sort of relationship at the present time."
"Perfect. What's your name, hun?"
"Your name?"
Name, name, name. . .crap! I looked at my DVD collection and the first thing that came to eye was my director's cut of Barbarella.
"Barb. . .ara"
"I need your last too name, honey."
Frantic I looked around, and there was my empty bottle of scotch on the floor. "Scott. My name is Barbara Scott."
"Ok, Barbara, I have an opening tomorrow at five, can you be here?"
"Sure, I can be there."
"Great, and wear something slinky and sexy. The producer will likely want to see how much fire you can ignite on the small screen." This last was said in a bored manner, as if she were reading from a script. For all I knew that is exactly what was happening.
It might have stopped there had I not lay back on the bed and felt my wife's clothing against my bare back. She'd loved the feel of satins and silks and I'd covered our bed with them for my final moments.
But what if I could keep them close to me for a longer period?
Well, this role would take more than just tossing on clothing, or I would look like nothing more than a man in a dress. It would take preparation.
My last role was in the film "Huguenot." I'm not surprised if you never heard of it, since I heard it ended up going direct to DVD. The reason I mention it is that I was required not to cut my hair during the entire two years we were filming. It was a contract thing. It was a bone of, mild, contention with my wife and I. She was upset that it had grown almost twenty inches in two years. So, after filming, I got it trimmed, but no more than that.
That was almost six months before this point, so my hair was just over two feet from root to tip.
That put it just below my shoulder blades.
Long hair, check. It needed some styling, but I could hit a salon tomorrow on my way to the audition.
Hmm, I had facial hair, so that would have to go. I went into the bathroom, and reached for my razor when another thought hit me. I'd have to shave my entire body if I wanted to make this work. Or, I could do something a little more daring.
I picked up the phone again, "Hello, Julia."
"Donnie? What's wrong?"
"I'm drunk as a skunk. I just contemplated shooting myself with my shotgun. I have an audition tomorrow at five."
"Ooookay. Donnie, you know that Aimee was a friend of mine. Why don't I come over. . ."
"No, I wanted to know if I could come in."
"Um, I only service women, Donnie."
I snickered at that, I don't know why. "I know that, Julia. I need to be a woman for my audition."
"Donnie. . ."
"I know. It sounds crazy, and it probably is, but I thought it would keep me closer to Aimee, and I'm drunk. Did I mention that? And so I figured that I'd get a full Brazilian, and. . .I don't know."
"Ok, look Donnie. I figure that you're to drunk to know what you're asking me to do, but if you haven't sobered up, and if you pay me $120 up front, then I'll give you the wax, for Aimee's sake."
"Okay, I'll come right over."
"My last customer leaves at three. Come in about three thirty."
"Okay, Julia." I giggled again.
I figured her sober comment for a challenge so I went and got my last fifth out of the fridge and I finished polishing it off about two thirty. When I couldn't find my keys for ten minutes, only to realize they'd been in my hand the entire time, I figured that it was time to call a cab.
I'd called for cabs a lot to get home because I was too drunk to drive, but this would be the first time I called for one to leave home because I was too drunk to drive.
I giggled at the thought and waited for the cab on the curb.
I was dropped off at Julia's, yes that is the name of her establishment, at three twenty five, and I went and knocked on the door.
I was amazed I was even upright after the amount of alcohol I'd consumed in the last twelve hours. She got me into the room, and stripped me down. I was so sauced that I either couldn't feel it, or I didn't care. She left me the hair on my head, and a landing strip.
I must have paid, as she performed her duty, although to this day I don't remember having done so. Then she bundled me out the back and up the stairs to her apartment, I presume to sleep it off.
I remember her making a comment about me having drunk too much to be useful to her. I made a joke about scotch being the anti-Viagra which she laughed at. I remember glancing at the clock and seeing that it was five before I lost all consciousness.
I woke up the next morning with no clear recollection of what I'd done, and feeling strangely comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a while. The bedding felt really nice on my skin as I got up to use the restroom.
I was standing over the toilet, still waking up, when I really looked down at my legs for the first time. The really looked good. I wondered what woman was standing in the bathroom with me.
I was still half asleep at this point, but I woke up quickly enough when I realized the woman in the bathroom was me.
"What in the heck did I do last night?"
"Not enough, Donnie."
Julia came into the bathroom wearing a smile. She had a gorgeous body, but I didn't have it in me to love her.
Then something occurred to me, "We didn't, I mean you and I weren't"
"No, we didn't, Donnie."
"Oh, thank god." I smiled in relief, "That would have been a mistake."
Her eyes flashed in anger and she began hitting me. "Get out of my house, you bastard. Get the hell out of my house."
I ran out of there in my boxers and undershirt. I left my wallet and everything else in her house. I turned to walk back up to get them and she threw my pants down the stairs at me.
I slipped on my pants, and walked barefoot to the nearest payphone.
Now, I had a splitting headache, and the sunrise that chose that moment to start did so maliciously. I squinted against the glare, and called a cab first, and then my favorite person in the world.
I had worked with him off and on since my first slasher film "Sorority House Murders III," as 'unnamed dead male teen number 14'. Or was it 15. It's been four years, and I don't specifically remember. There was some confusion on set about that as well. Hey, it was my first movie as an "adult".
He'd done an excellent job on my prosthetics though, and I really enjoyed sitting in his chair while he worked me over.
Karl had told me to come on over to his studio and they'd work me in.
The cab pulled up in front of the converted warehouse. I paid the cabbie and got out.
"Donnie, up for another role that they need to you come in makeup for?"
"You could say that."
I explained my plan from yesterday, what I remembered of it, and as I was telling him I had no idea why I was still going through with it.
"So, how heavy are we going?"
"You're the expert. I need to pass up close and personal. I have to look 'hot'. We have to be able to apply it quickly and it has to last, I figure, 24 to 36 hours at a time."
"Sounds like you want me to use Second Skin."
"Huh? Never heard of that before."
"You wouldn't. People are still married to foam rubber or latex or silicone. That and this stuff costs about eight thousand dollars per cubic foot."
I still had eighty thousand dollars in my bank account.
"I can cover ten cubic feet, anything beyond that. . ."
"With Second Skin we don't need to worry. It has been tested for up to six months continual use."
"It doesn't have to be reapplied?"
"The material lasts that long, even the edges. Not the glue."
I laughed at myself for that one.
"Basically, we use the right glue and you will be able to do pretty much anything except for go swimming. I have some ideas of glues that might even overcome that."
"So, what's the plan?"
"Well, we'll have to go with your breast forms from 'The Transsexual Stalker,' for today, I even have one of your bras from the movie. I can get sculpting for the Second Skin prosthetic right away. I have a life cast of your face and torso still, so I should be able to come up with something really good."
The breast forms he was talking about had been cast in silicone and matched my skin tone perfectly. They fit my chest wall like a glove thanks to the life cast of my torso, and in fact was the reason the life cast of my torso had been done. They had to look like my real breasts on screen, and you can even see about thirty seconds of 'nudity' with them fully exposed. For those of you with a morbid curiosity the scene runs from 1:21:42 to 1:22:11. I think it might even be on Netflix.
I even wore them home for a little role play with my wife during shooting once. That is one of my fonder memories with Aimee.
See, I wasn't worried about my top. It's the down below that worried me.
I was still worried about it when Ilene walked into the room. I had one on and one off at the time, and she did a double take of my body. "Damn, Darko, you had a lot more body hair the last time I saw you in that chair getting that prosthetic attached."
She is punishing like that. I think it was a reference to how often I got horror roles. I first met her when I played the monster in "Catastrophic Failure." Well, you know what I mean if you've seen the film. If you haven't then all I can say is: not my best work. She usually handles 'Special Wardobe.'
"Donni will need a gaffe, and if you could show him how to wear it."
"Sure think, honey."
They got married shortly after "Catastrophic Failure." Ilene was hands on like that. Not that she really thought anything of it, just that she liked to show rather than tell.
So, he attached the breast forms to my chest, and I felt their familiar weight again. Hey, I spent three years, off and on, filming that movie. When all was said and done I'd spend almost six months total wearing them.
The slightest smudge of makeup and the line completely disappeared. There wasn't even enough there to really transfer to my clothing. These, unfortunately, would be a one use appliance. Unfortunately the really good silicone prosthetics were all one use.
I slipped into my red satin and black lace bra and settled my babies in place. I was starting to feel it again, and let my hips gently way as I went in search of Ilene.
Now, I've since done a little research online, and there is little in common between what she fitted to me and the undergarment of the same name. They did the same job, but what she fitted onto me was a flesh-toned entrapment device designed to go seamlessly under another pair of underwear.
It went on, during which procedure I paid close attention so I could do it next time, and then slipped on a pair of satin panties that matched my bra.
I stepped out to go find a mirror. I was frankly a bit surprised, not that I should have been. I'd gotten a number of roles because of my effeminate looks.
My face was on that body, but it wasn't me. I felt myself becoming aroused, but the gaffe held everything in place with only minor discomfort.
"There's no way I'm letting you out of here in what you came in wearing. It would be indecent."
"I have just the thing for him, honey."
"Wait, I wanted to wear one of Aimee's dresses for this."
"That can come later, when you land the role. Ilene is right. We need you in something that kills them dead."
Words almost fail me when describing this dress, but I'll try. Black. It had a turtle neck that covered me to my jaw line, but left my shoulders and back. It had a keyhole in the front. It was long enough, barely, that it still covered my panties when I sat, but not from a shallow angle.
I was sad to take off the bra, as it was one of my favorites, but for that dress, I would do just about anything.
"What are your plans for face and makeup?"
"Well, I thought I would do my own makeup and then a salon for my hair."
"There's no way that Barb is going anywhere the first time without the full treatment." Kirk said.
"Um. What?"
"Look, two appliances will cost you between $12k and $18k. Professional make up application and training will cost you another $5K. Diction, speech, and behavior training another $5k. We might go with a little cosmetic surgery, like your Adam's Apple, but yours is hardly noticeable in the best circumstances, and it will require recovery time that we don't have. That could be a little expensive, but from my figures, worst case, that leaves you with more than $50k for the surgery."
"What are you going on about?"
"Look, do you want to simply enter this contest, or do you want to win it?"
"Well, I guess win it."
"Then you need to be the most feminine girl possible, period. You have to think woman, eat woman, be woman."
I thought about things I'd gone through in my life trying to prove I was a man. I thought about failed relationships and nights alone crying until I'd met Aimee, who actually asked me to marry her. Would it be so bad to be the woman for a while, or even to admit that it was more me than this male facade I'd presented to everyone else?
I took a deep breath and smiled, "Let's do this."
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as Karl and Ilene called in the experts. I got crash courses in diction and poise. Walking in heels. My hair was impeccably styled, and my makeup was applied to perfection. At four we did last look in front of the mirror, and I was impressed. Really impressed. I didn't recognize myself at all.
Instruction on how to touch up my makeup were given and a leather clutch thrust into my hands.
Then I was out the door and into the back of Karl's car.
We drove over to the location where the audition would be, and realized that it was a cattle call.
"Crap, I'm not ready for this. I have no ID or guild number or anything."
"Look in the clutch."
You called in Giorgio didn't you?" I said looking at the contents.
Movies attracted some of the strangest people you would ever imagine.
Giorgio was unique even amongst all this variety. As far as I was aware I was the first person to use one of his props in a real life situation. Basically Giorgio was the guy that shows like CSI or Castle called when they wanted a realistic looking ID.
Giorgio also has a consulting job with the FBI teaching how to spot fake IDs and describing the processes used to create them.
I hadn't noticed them taking a photo of me, but there was Barb Scott looking back at me in a traditionally bad DMV photo.
They even gave me a new birthday to make me seem a little younger. Okay, I could work with that. I wear my heels to look taller, because I want to be noticed. I'm afraid of the notice at the same time. Texan to the soles of my shoes. Smart? Yeah, smart. No ditz here.
I walked in and the moment I started walking I became Barb. There would be no calls of cut here. I could not break character for a moment.
"I walked confidently into the building, and then stopped for a moment as if looking around. Act a little startled that there are so many people. . .yes, receptionist there.
Hmm, if that's the woman from the phone she is fairly good looking. Got the wiry gray hair and red lipstick though.
I walked up to her stopped for a moment waiting for her to notice me, and then cleared my throat softly.
She looked up, and then did a double take. "Hi," I said with what I hoped was a blinding smile, "I'm Barbara Scott? I had an appointment for an audition?"
"Hi, Barbara. I actually thought you were pranking me and were actually a drunk man."
I blushed at that, as it was in character, and I really was a bit embarrassed.
"Well, hey, people tell me that I sound like a fat old woman over the phone. I think you out-did me for difference in appearance. Look, after this is over, want to get a drink?"
My mouth dropped open a little.
"All the hot ones are hetero. Mores the pity. If you're ever curious. . .well, this is what's called a cattle cal, sweetie. Mostly their just going to want you to get up there and look pretty, but you've got that in spades, hun. They might want you to say something. If they do they'll ask you a question. Think of it pageant and realize that sometimes 'world peace' is the best answer. Better to look inscrutable than stupid."
I'd never had anyone help me this much at a cattle call before.
She must have seen my confusion and misread it, thankfully, because she continued. "Hey, don't worry, hun. You'll do fine. Just try not to make everything a question, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for the help."
"You're welcome. Good luck, Barbara."
"I prefer Barb."
"Good luck, Barb. Heat through the door right there and get in line. They'll give you a number as you get closer."
I have to say that I felt sorry for everyone else the moment I stepped through the door. Not a single one of them had even close to the same preparation as I'd had. Most of them had thrown some little black dress from the dark recesses of their closet with their best three year old makeup and a scrunchie in their hair.
There were a few that showed preparation and a salon hairstyle.
There was only one other girl who I was worried about. That was because I could tell that she'd had professional help for today's meeting as well.
She was also the only other girl here who wore a backless dress. Hers was red though.
I ignored her as we wound our way back and forth through the studio until I was ten people away from the stage.
"You'll be 496."
"Thanks!"
"Don't mention it."
While the other girls were watching their competition, I did what I always did. I watched the judges. No matter what you call them, when you're at an audition you are being judged. The secretary, or receptionist, or whatever had given me some key pieces of information as well.
I read their body language, watch what they responded too. I had most of what I needed on my body. The rest would have to be my act.
"Next."
And I was up.
"Wow, there's a lot of you out there."
And then I flashed my smile. That smile would come to be one of the biggest draws that they had for the show.
"Ok, so 469, You're trying out for a show called the Real Prince Charming. Basically, what we're looking for is girls who look good on screen but also come across as being genuine. This is more than just a pairing contest, though. There will be sixteen men as well as sixteen women. Only one of these men is the catch he appears to be, and it will be through the choices the women make that will slowly eliminate them as well as the fake princes.
"How would you determine who the real prince charming was amongst so many?"
"Whether or not a man is a good catch is not about his appearance or the size of his wallet. It's about who he is as a person and how he treats others when he doesn't believe he is being watched. I would need to talk to him one on one, and listen to what the other girls thought of the matches."
"Anything else?"
Think fast, they're bored. . .
"You can tell a lot about a man by the way he kisses you, and how he treats you when you decline a kiss."
"Thank you 469, you may go."
That perked up their interest. It would also get me the nickname of the Ice Queen.
I headed toward the back entrance when I was stopped by one of the omnipresent techs and given an envelope.
I waited 'til I got outside before I opened the envelope. It was an invitation to be on the show, as well as a contract for my agent to look over and fax in. Should I choose to be on the show I was under a non-disclosure agreement until the show aired or a period of two years had passed from the date of the end of production.
Standard reality TV stuff. I was an alternate for Survivor a few years ago. As Donnie of course. No one decided to drop out before filming, mores the pity.
Filming would begin in two months. I opted for laser hair removal instead of plastic surgery.
Well, you all know what happened on the show, or at least most of you do. I'll give the short version for anyone who didn't catch "the scandal."
So, basically each week each of the girls tried to pick Prince Charming. They boys would go through a contest of one sort or another. You know, feeding the homeless, animal rescue, that sort of thing. They were on camera the whole time, but unbeknownst to most of us, so were all the girls when watching this. That was how they chose who would be eliminated. One or two girls caught on early, and tried to swing it to their advantage.
Anyway, the top 'winners' of the competition were safe from elimination, but we weren't told who won until after we made a pick.
The supposition was that Prince Charming would always win these contests of character.
So, we would be told who the top contestants were, and then who the bottom contestant was. I still laugh when I remember when Brianna, Katie, and Susan all picked Aaron when he was the 'bottom' guy in the contest. I found out later they'd been trying to eliminate Brianna that day, the other two just picked the wrong guy.
And I'm sure you all remember the scene where James grabbed me and jumped into the pool. That was one of the more scary moments of my life, and I didn't act my anger at him. I really thought I was undone.
So, I'm sure all of you remember how I picked Sean every time. That's because I saw his heart that first day before we began filming. A lot of the other guys were acting like prigs or prima donnas. Not Sean. He held the door for all sixteen of us, and thanked us individually for coming. Yeah, he really was that sweet.
The other girls kept seeing the chemistry between the two of us and steering clear. Each of them had their own agenda. Their 'plan' for the game.
I was letting the sweetest guy in the world woo me.
Since it never aired due to concerns about its content, I'll share the final choice with all of you. You can watch it on you tube, though, or hulu. If you remember we ended up with three girls and five guys.
Amanda, the girl in the red dress from the cattle call, chose James. She'd been having sex with him for the week prior to that, which they never let anyone know. I told her she was an idiot for giving it up which sparked our now famous catfight.
Tamara chose Colin. She's a lesbian by the way and had planned on telling that to Prince Charming if she ended up with him.
It was revealed that not only was Sean a nice guy, but a real prince.
I felt like such a heel revealing that I was a man. My statement shocked everyone and they demanded I prove it. They shut of the cameras at that point and I stripped.
Tamara actually asked me for my number. I think she liked the idea of a girl with a living dildo.
Oh, sorry, I've got to call this short. My husband just called me from the other room, and I think I've got exactly what he wants. I did get my surgery five months ago after all.
There's the rest of the story as used to be said on the radio. Oh, did I actually marry Sean as has been rumored all over the internet recently?
No, I married my real prince, Mark Shurtleff. How else do you think I scored the lead role in 'Sorority House Murders IV"?
It wasn't all for money. I do love him.
You've got to remember I'm not quite the cold-hearted bitch I was portrayed as on TV. I managed to keep my promise to my wife, and still find another love for my life.
I stood at the top of the escalator and took a deep breath. I allowed the steady stream of passengers to bypass me, for which I got a few strange, and a couple of hostile, looks.
Of course, that could also have been because of my American clothing. There is a distinct difference between clothing purchased in Russia with a foreign style, and clothing purchased in another country.
Wearing a dress didn't help. Sure, it helped me, but not the situation.
I knew this escalator, one might say intimately. In the mid 90s I'd gone down it a number of times. The problem was that I was wearing sensible male shoes and a suit when I did.
That's not the real problem. The real problem was the length of the escalator, and the speed of descent.
I'm not explaining this well.
Russians do not stand on escalators in the metro. There are two reasons for this: They move too slowly for a person to ride their sedate pace and still make their connecting train, and they are as likely not to be moving at all as they are to be moving.
So, you get used to, well, flying down the escalators. Did I mention they are steep?
The one I was looking down right now dropped about a mile in the period that it moved forward a quarter that distance. I may be exaggerating, but only a very little. Exaggerating the length, not the angle.
Why did I have to wear heels today?
I wasn't worried about going down on tiptoe. That was my normal mode of descent when I'd been here before. Sort of a controlled fall down the face of this almost cliff. You hit each step with your toes, just exerting a bit of control as you fly.
Falling with style and grace.
But never in three inch heels. I may have had my heel lifted as I did it in the past, but probably never more than one or two inches.
I'd started the day wanting to emphasize the changes to the friends I would be visiting, and now here I stood in the middle of a transit between the green and brown lines and wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
I took a deep breath. . .and got into the slow lane. I was in the midst of grandmothers and small children.
I took my steps one at a time, and ached to be joining the flow traveling downward faster than thought.
I took a breath, took another, and stepped out into traffic, figuratively. The ground dropped out from under me and I was flying down with the rest of the insane. I was beginning to enjoy myself when my foot slipped on the tread.
I stumbled the last twenty feet, and walked over to the side of the tunnel to avoid foot traffic as I regained my breath. Well, I fell with a little style, but no grace whatsoever.
"Помогите, пожалуиста. Помогите!" Help me, Please. Help me!
I looked a little way ahead and I was a grandmother leaning against the wall. There was a little blood on a spot above her head, and she seemed to be having trouble standing up. The steady stream of people ignored her as they walked past.
I realize something of Russian culture, at least the culture in Moscow, would be good here. There is no separate word for grandmother and old woman. In essence that makes every old woman your grandmother. In practice that makes every grandmother just another old woman.
"I'll help you." Yes, I spoke in Russian, but since this entire story is not written in such, it will probably help to translate.
"Oh, come here, girl." This is not rude in Russian. In fact it started a warm glow in my heart. She'd just accepted me how I was presenting myself.
I walked over and helped her to her feet, and then steadied her as she wobbled a bit.
"Will you be okay, grandmother?"
"Yes, girl, thank you. Are you from the Baltics?" Most Russians either mistake a real American accent for German (we are hitting our consonants too hard) or the Baltics (generally slurring our words and pulling off the consonants too much).
"No, I'm an American." Her look made it feel like I was going down the escalator again, and the blood left my face. Crap, did I make a mistake?
I'd said американец (americanyets) instead of американка (americanka). That was the equivalent of saying. Hi world. I'm really a boy. I am fluent in Russian, or at least I was so in the mid 90s. I'm a little out of practice. Here's the thing. I say certain phrases without thinking. And those phrases refer to me in the masculine.
"I'm sorry, I meant to say I'm an американка."
She looked at me with a knowing smile and patted me on the arm. "It's ok. I couldn't tell until your slip, girl. You are very pretty."
I blushed, but that wasn't to be the end of it. I smelt him even before I felt the tap on my shoulder. People say that vodka is odorless, but that's only before it is processed by the human body. Someone who is a frequent abuser gains a certain scent to himself. I didn't need to see the bloodshot eyes or hear the slurred speech to know I was in trouble.
"Did I hear you say you were an американец?"
"Hey, you leave the girl alone!"
"Thank you, grandmother, but I can handle this. Do I look like an американец? Really?" I flashed my best smile at him, confident in my body and appearance.
We'd begun gathering a crowd and he was getting more belligerent.
"You're the worst kind. An американец and a faggot." Aren't you impressed? I actually understood it when he called me a faggot in Russian.
"You tucked your #### between your legs like a dog." Ok, so I didn't know exactly what he'd said there, but I could assume from the context.
I heard a gasp from the grandmother and he groped me. Between the legs. Before I'd known what was happening he'd flipped his hand under my skirt and slipped his had all the way to my panties
I stood there for a moment frozen, but then I pulled away. How could even he have done such a thing. I felt the anger begin to boil up inside me even as the grandmother began hitting him with her bag.
No, that wasn't something comical like it would be in the states. Most Russian grandmothers I've ever seen are built like linebackers and about that strong. Their bags would put most hiking backpacks to shame. And she was swinging it like it weighted nothing.
I put a hand on the grandmother's arm. "Grandmother, this one is mine."
The bums body was turned away from me, and his arms were up covering his head.
"Ауу." Which is pronounced Ah-oo-oo, I like it a lot better than the English equivalent of 'yoo-hoo' or 'hey, you'.
With it being only three vowels, it was really easy to use my most feminine voice possible.
He turned toward me curiously.
I pulled back and decked him. Three years of hormone replacement may have destroyed a lot of my muscle mass, but not any of my muscle memory.
He went down like a sack.
"Nice right hook, little daughter."
"Thank you, grandmother."
I helped her over to the next escalator, got her situated in the slow lane, and decided to jump down in the fast lane myself. I don't know whether it was simply standing up for myself, or the fact that I still had adrenaline rushing through my body from that feel up, but I hit every step without stumbling.
I didn't have any problems for the rest of my trip, but that scene stuck with me, and I related it to the friends I'd come to see. We all had a laugh about it, and had a couple of drinks in honor of the drunk. It's a Russian thing.
I've made a distinct effort to change my thinking with Russian since then, and haven't ever made that mistake again. My life isn't perfect, nor would I really want it to be. But now when asked, I am sure to answer clearly, "Я aмериканка!"