Happy Birthday, Jocelyn

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Alex’s Adventures in a Land of Wonder

Happy Birthday, Jocelyn

 © Nick B May 2007

Alex's rejection of Sharon, her friends and her controlling ways, led him to meet Jocelyn, a girl from his school, who invites his alter ego to a birthday party, but Alex has no idea how he can get to go...


Thanks Kris, you came through yet again.

Disclaimer:
Any similarity to persons living or dead would shock the hell out of me. I think parents can sometimes surprise you. Mine? Well that's another story altogether...


My sojourn into the land of femininity was never planned and I suppose thinking about it, I should never have trusted those girls any further than I could spit. The thing is though; I thought I could trust Becky.

True I got my first full-on experience with a girl, but I wasn’t expecting her to turn out to be a bloody psycho; well her friends were anyway, but that’s enough about them. I owe them because without them I wouldn’t have been kissed by Jocelyn Tanner, so I guess I should be grateful, but all in all, I think I’m well rid.

I thought I had got away with turning up to the function en-femme as they say, at least as far as mum was concerned, but the next morning, she said we needed to have ‘a chat’ about it after I phoned Ronnie. I needed to ask whether Sharon would mind waiting for the return of her clothes until after mum had washed them.

“What do I want them for?” asked Sharon who actually answered the phone.

“Well, they are yours.”

“You must be out of your tiny mind if you think I’m going to put them anywhere near me after you’ve had them on. You’re having a laugh.”

“I’m not and I wasn’t. They’re yours. I just wanted to give them back is all.”

“Well you can do what you like with them, I don’t care. I don’t even know why we even gave you the chance to be one of us, thinking you would enjoy the surprise we had, but you’re not even worth it and your dick is really tiny. Becky said they should have named you Justin, not Alex.” and with that, she put the phone down.

I blinked several times before her words got through, at about the same time as the tears. I expected some sort of retaliation, but not that. Her words had rung clear and loud through the receiver; loud enough for mum to hear most of what Sharon said.

She put her arm round me and offered her sympathy. Although I really didn’t need to hear what Sharon said, it did put paid to any further questioning about what I had been wearing the night before.

I still felt a pang of guilt for having spoken to Becky the way I did and I kind of laid the blame for the whole situation on her, which was what I felt was so wrong about how I handled it, but she more than got her own back for that if Sharon was to be believed.

I didn’t think she was as bad as the rest of them and still don’t. Perhaps if she was away from the influences of Sharon’s power-hungry, manipulative group, she would show herself to be a really nice person.

The real surprise came at the end of it all when mum said that she thought I did a very good job at the function and worked really hard. She said she was really proud of me and that the customers paid me lots of compliments. She did say that she had to keep telling herself that I was her son and not her daughter as I busied myself clearing tables, dealing with the customers and I wasn’t sure how she really felt about that.


Another week of school went past, which as I said last time, wasn’t so bad anymore, but I did get a nasty shock. Actually, it could have been a really good shock, but that all depends upon how you look at it.

Wednesday, I was just going into school and I bumped into Jocelyn — literally. The moment I saw it was her I had a total gob failure. I opened and closed it several times, but nothing more than a squeak came out.

I didn’t have that trouble on Saturday. I didn’t have any trouble at all, but now, it was like I had lockjaw; no, not lockjaw — lock-voice, but before I had time to fathom what had altered my ability to talk — probably something mum would be pleased to have a bottle of if she could get it, she started talking.

“Alex!” she said, startled by the intrusion and then looked very nervous. She looked as though she was in two minds about something, wrestling with herself over whatever it was and then deciding to go for it, her words tumbled over themselves to hit me in a barrage while she fidgeted and wrung her hands.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I met a relation of yours on Saturday. It’s so weird, but I thought she was you. Can you believe that? Anyway, I don’t know how to get in touch and wondered if you’d give her this.” she said all in one breath and surreptitiously slipped an envelope into my hand. Just like last time - but without the kiss, she ran off.

Well that was it for me. I didn’t get any bloody peace after that.

I didn’t think much of the encounter itself apart from the shock of me not being able to speak this time, but apparently, I had got closer than any other boy in school to Jocelyn Tanner and became something of an enigma amongst the rest of the boys.

“So, you going out with her?” asked one of the bigger boys and by that, I mean full-sized.

“No!” I said assertively, but he just winked at me and grinned, punching my shoulder as he left saying “Way to go kid.” I grinned back; more because I didn’t know what else to do than because I’d apparently boldly gone where no boy had gone before. I gently rubbed my shoulder to make sure nothing was broken.

This continued all through the day, gaining momentum as more people got to hear the strange tale of how Alex Collins was going out with the Jocelyn Tanner.

I’d even told them that I wasn’t going out with her. I wished I was, but they knew what they’d seen and that was apparently enough.

The halls and corridors, class-rooms and playground were a minefield of whispers behind hands, looks and giggles or outright stares and I felt awful. Awful good, but at the same time, I knew the truth and that made me feel awful bad, like I was lying to her, but I didn’t even know her - really.

She was infatuated with something or someone that didn’t really exist and now, her reputation was on the line as the most beautiful and sought-after girl in school was going out with the most avoided, scrawniest little boy in school — according to the general consensus of opinion that was. I even overheard one lad, tall and extremely well developed asking his mate — equally tall and well developed, what I had that they didn’t. I didn’t dare tell them it was the fact I looked good in a skirt.

Later that day, I sat on my bed in total wonder at how I had managed to go from zero to… well, perhaps not hero, but definitely a somebody in the course of just one school day and all because Jocelyn had spoken to me, slipping me that note.

The note!

Of course! I hadn’t even had time look at that. I retrieved it from the depths of my pocket.

The envelope was quite expensive, being thick and totally impossible to see through, but around a large ornately hand-drawn question mark, were hundreds of little flower designs in purples, pinks and reds and all as intricately hand-drawn as the question mark.

I removed the note from inside and read it.

Dear ???,

Ever since we met on Saturday, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I don’t normally do this, but I have no other way to speak you as Alex and I tend to move in very different circles.

I just wish I’d had the guts to kiss you properly — I wanted to, but I didn’t know how you would react. I saw you kissing that blonde, so I figured what I did would be alright, but I wasn’t sure.

I’ve never done anything like this, felt like this or had anything like this happen to me before and I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re on my mind when I wake up, last thing at night and a lot of times in between, especially when I see Alex. You could be his sister you know.

It’s my birthday on Thursday and my parents have arranged a party for me on the following Saturday night. I would be really pleased if you could come.

It’s at [address withheld for legal reasons, although it was written on the note] from six o’clock.

All my love

Jocelyn.
XXX

“All my love?” I said to myself in amazement.

Every ‘i’ had been ‘dotted’ with a little red love heart and there were flowers like those on the envelope drawn all over the place. It must have taken her hours to do. It made my heart flutter and yet at the same time, scared me, but hey; the plus side was: Jocelyn Tanner asked me out and once I had got over that feeling of the collywobbles, I very much wanted to go.

Then it dawned on me.

Jocelyn hadn’t asked me. Well she had, but she hadn’t. It was all starting to get really complicated. She had actually asked the person she thought she met on Saturday, little knowing that it was me.

My ‘collywobble high’ dissipated like smoke in the wind and I came crashing down to earth with a bump.

It seemed to me that what started as a laugh, as a joke between Sharon, her friends and I (though admittedly I still find it hard to see the funny side - well after the initial fun anyway), was having much further reaching implications and I had to be honest with myself how I felt about this whole dressing as a girl thing and the upshot of that was I really wasn’t that keen, but if I wanted to go to Jocelyn’s party, I was going to have to go as a girl.

Why?

She was expecting the other me, that’s why; the ‘me’ that didn’t have trouble talking to her, the girly me. The ‘me’ I didn’t want to be.

It wasn’t going to stop me going though, well mum might, but that wouldn’t. The only hurdle I had left to leap over now was how I was going to explain to mum why I wanted to go as a girl.

“Hey mum. I’ve been invited to a party and I’d really like to go, but see now here’s the thing. I have to go as a girl.”

That wouldn’t work.

What about “Hey mum, you know the other night when I turned up at that function in a skirt and stuff? Well I met a girl from school before I got there and she’s invited me to her birthday party. It’s really funny, but she thinks I’m a girl so I would have to go dressed…”?

Nah! That one didn’t even get off the ground.

There had to be some way of convincing mum that my going as a girl was a good idea.

With the party on Saturday, I had very little time to formulate a plan.

Mum had evidently spoken to Ronnie who was having trouble with Sharon because of what she and the girls did to me and I didn’t think adding that to all the confusion was a wise move.

Sharon had apparently had a really big argument when Ronnie had told her that what she and the girls did to me was bang out of order. Sharon naturally denied it, saying that I had begged them to let me join in, which was not what mum had heard on the phone.

What a joke!

Fortunately, Ronnie knew that I did not as Sharon had suggested, go into it willingly having first been appraised of the situation by mum and because Ronnie appeared to take my side, Sharon threw an absolute wobbly, disappearing from that moment on and hadn’t been seen since. It was only a couple of days, but Ron was pretty upset.

There was only half a week to go though. I had to do something.

“Mum?” I said when I had gauged that she was in a fairly receptive mood. “I’ve been invited to a party on Saturday night and I was wondering if it would be alright if I went."

Mum’s look didn’t inspire confidence.

“And whose party is it?” she asked suspiciously.

“It’s Jocelyn’s. She’s a girl from my school. It’s her birthday.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yes, but here’s the thing. Jocelyn and I met on Saturday when I was — you know.” I said making hourglass shapes down the side of my body. “Anyway, she thinks I’m a girl, so I would have to go… well…um… as a girl.” It felt quite strange, amazing and strange to hear that come out of my own mouth. Did I really want to go looking all girly? Well, no, but as they say, when all you’ve got is lemons, make lemonade. Who the hell comes up with all this crap? I didn’t know what lemonade had to do with dressing up as a girl, but well…

Mum’s eyes went wide. Then…

I don’t think you want to hear this part, but suffice it to say, I got a half-hour lecture on lying to get a girl’s, er, favour. She pointed out very deliberately and very slowly that the reason she was a single parent was because her ex-husband had done just that — not the dressing up bit, but lying to women — lots as it turns out.

She said something about philandering — whatever that means. She then went on to get very colourful and graphic about his parentage, what she would like to do to him and a host of other things I didn’t really want or need to hear.

“No” would have done.

“But mum…” I said in my best wheedling voice. “It’s not like that.”

I went on then to tell her exactly what happened on Saturday with regards Jocelyn and I said that as much as I wanted to tell her the truth, I couldn’t at school. If I turned up as Alex, I probably wouldn’t even get in, let alone a chance to explain things to her.

Mum was adamant.

“You’re not going to start dressing as a girl to deceive this Jocelyn girl or any other girl for that matter. It’s not right and more than that, it’s not healthy. You shouldn’t be wandering round masquerading as a girl anyway. It’s a dangerous game to play and I’m not going to let you get into that sort of thing and that’s that.”

That was pretty final alright.

I tried several times before the end of the week to give mum an argument that would tell her that all I wanted to do was tell Jocelyn the truth, but they were all arguments that like the fabled seeds, fell on stony ground, culminating in a “I thought I told you, you weren’t going to this party?”

I was completely stumped and very frustrated.

Friday came along and I had spent the days in between when Jocelyn gave me the note until now, trying to avoid her at all times, which proved rather difficult — unlike before all this started.

“Have you heard?” she asked when I had no choice but to face and speak to her.

“Um, I’m afraid not.” I replied solemnly, not having anything better to offer that would let her down gently without letting on that it was really me she was hoping to see and mum had told me no — several times.

“Oh.” she said, her normally smiley and open face showing obvious signs of disappointment. “Thanks anyway, Alex.”

I haven’t seen anyone look more like the bottom had just dropped out of their world as, with drooping shoulders she wandered off to wherever she was going. All I could do was stare after her, my heart feeling like I was the one who had just had a low flying hammer to the soft bits. I didn’t know what else to do.


I walked home Friday afternoon and arrived with a face as long as that wet weekend again; something I’m really good at, but this time I meant it.

I didn’t want to hurt Jocelyn and I although knew I hardly even knew her, I still felt like I was behaving in a despicable and entirely underhanded manner towards her.

Mum was on the phone when I went in and she waved to me to stay where I was.

“I’ll phone you back when I know…” she said and put the receiver down. Turning to me and biting her lower lip, she said “I’m glad you’re here. I need to ask you something.”

“Go on then, hit me with it.” I thought. It couldn’t be any worse than what happened earlier.

“Ron and I need to know whether you would be prepared to help out with Saturday’s function.”

My forehead wrinkled with my consternation and for you to know why, I need to tell you a little something about the business mum and Ronnie are trying to establish.

They run a small catering outfit that is in the infancy stages at the moment, but it’s completely run and manned (?) by women. There are a lot of companies starting up with a similar theme and it works. Sometimes women are more comfortable dealing with other women, not feeling that they’re so likely to get ripped off. Gardeners, plumbers, electricians and a whole load of other trades are being represented solely by women. Theirs was another.

You can see where this is heading can’t you?

“But you said you didn’t want…”

“I know what I said, but this is an emergency.”

“Why me?”

“It’s just that we need someone for tomorrow afternoon and well, we can’t get anyone in at such short notice. Sharon still hasn’t turned up and Ronnie’s afraid that there’s too much work for the two of us, so will you?”

“You wouldn’t let me go to the party because I would be deceiving people ‘masquerading’ as a girl, but this is alright?”

“Don’t get smart young man.”

“I was just trying to get my head round the concept, that’s all.”

“Look Alex, it’s quite simple. Ronnie and I need someone to work with us and you are the natural choice sine we know you can do it.”

“I’d hardly say ‘natural’. Would you?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have asked you. You’re still pissed off because I wouldn’t let you go to the party.”

“You have to admit. It is pretty ironic, wouldn’t you say? The only girl you can get is a boy.”

“Will you do it?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do.”

The sound of cracking ribs could clearly be heard as mum grabbed me and gave me one helluva hug. I went to my room while she was on the phone again, this time telling Ronnie that they had their help.

I was completely gobsmacked. I couldn’t understand how it was alright to create deception for a whole bunch of paying customers, but not to create deception for one girl where the initial deception wasn’t planned in the first place and latter deception was just to enable the initial deception to be clarified, so as not to make it a deception anymore.

It’s one crazy fucked-up world alright.

I was about to grab a comic or two and while away some time when mum hurried into the bedroom.

“Come on you. There’s no time to waste, get changed. We’re going to have to get you some clothes.”

I have to say, I was just the slightest bit confused. Changed into what?

She chucked the lace bra and panties onto the bed, got the skirt and shoes and started rifling through my drawers to find a suitable top.

“We haven’t got anything more appropriate to stuff you with right now, so we’ll use these again.” she said also chucking the stockings onto the bed. “Come on chop-chop!”

I stared open-mouthed at my own mother who was at this precise minute, waiting for me to transform myself into a girl.

It just got weirder and weirder.

I was dressed in no time and wandered out of my bedroom, feeling that the first steps in the shoes were strange after having worn boy’s shoes or trainers all week, but my feet soon remembered.

“We’ll need you to have some makeup, but not much.” she said sitting me down in front of her vanity.

Soon I had lipstick, eye liner; some blush and then mum started messing with my hair.

“Looks like we’ll have to visit the hairdresser’s too.” she said, looking at her watch.

“But mum, what about school? I don’t want a girly style to go to school with.”

“It’s alright. We’ll just get it trimmed.”

Next thing I know, my hair had been brushed out and we were heading at breakneck speed into town.

I’ll tell you, I have never seen any woman shop at the speed she was shopping. I didn’t think we were going to get home much before midnight, but I barely had the time to try stuff on before it was being bagged and we were heading in a different direction.

I didn’t even have time to get embarrassed and the only time I got slightly miffed was when mum described me a slow developer; “up top” she mouthed, which got an understanding look from the assistant and before the colour could rise to my cheeks, I was already heading for another shop.

Talk about whirlwind or whistle-stop…

I got dropped into a hair stylist and mum told the young girl there that she didn’t want the hair too flouncy, but just tidied.

The girl looked at me and giggled, but when she’d finished, I have to say, I liked it. I didn’t know what I was going to do about school, but I figured I could work that out later.

Meanwhile, mum was doing a pretty good ‘Wonder Woman’ impersonation and returned just before I was finished with bags from three more shops in her hands. Where she got the time, energy or whatever, was a complete mystery to me.

Back at the ranch, mum and I struggled up the stairs with bags from just about every women’s wear retailer in town and I just stared open mouthed (again) at all the stuff.

“All this for one night?” I asked.

“You can’t be too careful.” She said and it fell to me to raise an eyebrow.

“Okay,” she giggled. “I got carried away. It’s not everyday a mum gets to shop like that for her daughter.” and immediately covered her mouth with her hand.

“Mum, I’m your son.”

“Have you looked at yourself?”

I went into her bedroom and looked in the mirror.

I think falling down was a good thing. Passing-out sounds so, well like I was drunk or drugged and I wasn’t either, just completely overcome with the change. If what Sharon et al had done was convincing, this left that and headed into orbit. I saw no traces of a boy just pure girl and I have to say that it took my breath away; so much so that I really did faint dead away.

I opened my eyes to find my head in mums lap as she fanned me with a magazine and peered over me with a concerned look on her face.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m er, fine. I was just examining the pattern on this carpet.” I said and we both collapsed in gales of laughter.

She spent the next hour or so showing me all the things ‘we’ had bought culminating in a plain box about the size of a large shoebox.

“Go on. Open it.” I could see she was excited and this worried me. I already had already expanded my wardrobe by hundreds of percent, so what on earth was this?

“What on earth?” I said as I opened the box. “Oh my God! They look almost real.” and they did too.

Inside the box were a pair of the most lifelike boobs I had ever seen, not that I’d seen many boobs up close you understand, but these took the biscuit, matching my skin colour almost perfectly, the nipples semi-erect and dark, just as I remember the real thing being.

“Oh mum. These must have cost a fortune.” I said beginning to shake.

“They weren’t cheap, that’s for sure.”

“But why?”

“It’s more for safety than anything else. Those things you had stuffed down the front of your bra were alright, but didn’t stand up to close scrutiny and I don’t want any of us embarrassed by someone questioning that you’re anything other than a real girl.”

“All this for one night’s work?” I asked. “And anyway, how close id anyone likely to get?”

“Who knows? You may work more often, but anyway, it’s the first and possibly the only time that I’ve been able to do things with a daughter — even if you’re not really my daughter. It was just nice for a single moment…” she said and I could see her eyes filling up.

“Hey, it’s alright mum.” I said and it was my turn to make her feel better with a nice hug.

“Thanks.” she said. “I always wanted to have a daughter — as well as, not instead of, but it never happened. If I had, I was going to call her Michelle, have you thought of an alternative name?”

“I hadn’t, but Michelle sounds like it fits. I like it.”

“I thought you might, so ‘Michelle’ will be going to work with us tomorrow. I’ve told Ronnie it’s your name, but she doesn’t know it’s you. Let’s see how long it takes her to twig.” she gave me a hug and I took another look at the ‘breasts’

“More like ‘beasts’.” I thought, smiling before replacing the lid and going into my room.


The next day mum had given me strict instructions to be at home by midday — or else.

I mooched all morning, trying to better understand what was going on. I wasn’t a girl and as I looked in the mirror, I found it hard to see that I was anything other than I boy.

My hair was all over the place and not at all like it had been finished by the stylist the previous evening. I was in a pair of shabby jeans with an oversized t-shirt that kind of hid what wasn’t present underneath. I was thin, not at all like the other boys of my age — well mostly anyway and the large outer garment sort of disguised that.

Did I really want to go through with this function thing later?

I supposed not, but I had already agreed and Michelle was going to make her debut. I was scared and yet at the same time, excited. It was very confusing, but the thought of doing something for mum was very cathartic. I kind of felt that it made up for the trouble I had caused. True, being sent home was not my fault, but I was enough of an ass to have got myself into that kind of trouble all by myself sooner or later anyway.

I tried reading my favourite comics to take my mind off it all.

By the time mum came home, she was like a cat on a hot tin roof, itching to get started.

“Start with a bath.” she said.

“But I had a bath last night.” I argued.

“Doesn’t matter. We need you spotless. Now I bought this earlier and I want to use it under your arms and from your privates down to your feet before you bath. Just follow the instructions and rinse it off under the shower.”

“What’s all this?” I asked and my eyebrows nearly shot off my head when I saw those two words — “Hair Remover”. “Hey, mum, I can’t use this.”

“You can this once. You may find you want, or need to do it again later, but for today you will use it, alright? Now come along, we haven’t got all day.”

By the time I got in the bath, I felt as though I needed one. I needed to get rid of the smell of the hair remover and having used the stuff, I felt as though I had shoved myself off the top of the helter-skelter and there was no stopping until I reached the bottom. There was so much to get my head round.

This was real. The last two times I had been dressed up, were nothing compared to this.

I have to say though that the hair remover did a great job and I was surprised how soft and silky my legs felt. I was a bit sad to see my six pubes go, but I suppose they’d always grow back.

Once I was out of the bath, mum had me in a new pair of white panties, lying on the bed and was studying the instructions on one of the tins that came with the beasts.

“What’s that for?”

“Preparation for these.” she said pointing at the box.

“What sort of preparation.” I asked, fearing there was something coming I wasn’t going to like much.

“These are glued on.”

“Glued?” I asked. “GLUED??” I said again, my voice going up an octave or more.

“There seems to be an echo in here, or have my ears gone wonky?”

“But mum.” I spluttered.

“It’s alright you silly sausage, they’ll come off again.” she said, adding “I hope” quietly. I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted at all. I knew I’d agreed to help out, but I had no idea it would lead to all this. I was loath to say anything since mum seemed to be having so much fun and I have to say, after yesterday, I was looking forward to seeing what the end result would be.

By the time the beasts were firmly stuck in place, a small amount of makeup was applied around the joins and I was told to go and get dressed. I just had to see them and was fair blown away when I looked at them in the mirror.

‘I’m actually jealous.” said mum. “Mine have never looked like that.”

The beasts had weight; weight I wasn’t expecting and they jiggled. I started getting fits of the giggles as I jiggled. It took mum a good few minutes to calm me down, but not before we’d both laughed at the fact that these things were more realistic than either of us had expected.

The laughter died and I went back to dressing. Mum had bought me a new bra to go with the panties I had on and once in place, my beasts looked like they had developed with the rest of me. I stood in front of the mirror for a good few minutes looking and was completely lost for words.

I had to sit on the bed for a couple of minutes.

Cold feet?

I should say so. The girls just took me and put me through a burger machine of this and that and my alter ego just fell out the other end; simple.

Here, I was calculatingly going through the motions many women go through on a daily basis and again, the real-ness of the situation caught me off guard.

I was fidgeting with the stockings that Sharon had used to stuff my bra with and as I fidgeted, they came unravelled, to wind up as a pair of seamed black fishnet self-supporting stockings.

Willy immediately started to get curious and I felt a shiver of excitement flow down my body, not stopping before my toes started to curl.

I rolled them up and pointing my toes as if I was going to wear the tights mum had given me and taken great pains to explain how I was to put them on, I rolled the first one up my leg to my silky-smooth thigh.

No wonder women like wearing these things. I can’t describe how sexy they made me feel. I was of course, careful to ensure that the seams were straight and then I pulled on the skirt.

“Mum, where are my shoes?”

“They’re just finished.”

“Finished?” I thought. I didn’t even know they’d started.

“I padded into the kitchen to see that the shoes that I had been ‘given’ by Sharon had miraculously changed from red to black.

“They’re by the table. They’ll look better with your outfit.” said mum without turning to look at me and I took them out to put on in private, so I could still surprise her.

When I returned, mum asked me to turn round so she could see properly as I stood before her in a white blouse, black pencil skirt, stockings and now shoes too. I still had makeup and a hairdo to go through, but as an intermediate check, neither mum nor I were expecting what we saw. That’s when she saw the stockings.

“You look amazing.” she said. “But where did you get the stockings?”

“They’re my old tits.” I said with aplomb and we both dissolved into laughter again.

Mum had a very different way of applying makeup, more sophisticated, grown up looking as opposed to the way so many teenage girls do it. As a result, I looked a lot older than I really was, but boy, what a change. Once again, the job that the girls did paled into insignificance by comparison.

Lastly, she did my hair and after a quick spritz of Diorella, the effect was complete.

I sat there staring into the mirror. It was all I could do to stop the tears and I could see through the haze of emotion that mum was the same. Instead of the small, skinny boy that used to look at me in the mirror, a young sophisticated woman stared back.

I was having big problems getting to grips with this.

I didn’t want to be a girl, never had, but I had to admit it came easy to me. I fitted and was taken seriously, unlike the boy who was something of a loner and not by choice. Michelle as I now was — at least for the duration, was outgoing, bubbly and easy to get on with. There seemed fewer negatives to being a girl than a boy and then the questions really started.

Oh boy was I in deep.


We arrived at Ronnie’s and just as mum thought, she had no idea who I was. I smiled at mum as Ronnie gave me a perfunctory greeting and went back to what she was doing as mum and I started the task of taking boxes, trays and assorted other bits and pieces out to the van.

We got into the van and drove out to the venue, my stomach turning and turning as we neared our destination. I was shaky and it took a lot to just get on with things as I had that last time, but then I had had the chance to grow accustomed to things (then).

Ronnie didn’t seem to be any the wiser and the name Michelle seemed to echo with a strangely appealing ring around the function room as I dressed the tables, helped with decorations and generally made myself useful.

There was one good thing about being busy; it certainly took my mind off what was scaring the hell out of me, but it seemed that in no time at all, we were sitting for a couple of minutes before the customers were due to arrive.

Ronnie and mum were talking over things and I went and sat a little distance from them, trying to get myself in order before the onslaught of strangers. I was trying to get used to the feeling of having the beasts hanging off my chest and realised how so many women must be pleased about some support in the form of a bra. I couldn’t believe how much they didn’t so much get in the way, but had to be considered, I mean they did stick out a fair old way.

The door opened and a woman about mum’s age came in.

“Mrs. Tanner?” said mum. I think I went into overdrive at that very moment. Surely it couldn’t be?

“You must be May and Ronnie. It looks nice in here.” I looked around the room and in my effort to be busy I had completely missed the slogans on many of the posters, the bunting and so forth. “Happy Birthday” it read.

“Oh God!” I whispered.

“This is Michelle.” said mum and I stood up to greet Mrs. Tanner. It had to be her, the similarities were too obvious and I should know, the kiss a week ago and seeing her around school, had engraved her face onto my brain.

And there she was.

I had to turn away. Had to go and do something. I didn’t trust either of us if I didn’t.

I only caught a glimpse, but she still had that haunted look in her eyes, that look of disappointment and I didn’t know what to do. I was fidgeting. My hands were sweating and I rolled the paper napkin I was holding so tightly that it tore and I went to get another.

“You alright sweetheart?” asked mum.

“That’s her.” I whispered.

“Pardon?”

“That’s her.”

“Who’s who?” she said again and then the penny dropped.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know did I?”

There was nothing mum could argue with there. I didn’t know where we were going or coming to until we got here.

“You going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I’m here now, time to be a professional.”

“That’s my girl!” said mum as she went off to meet and greet as more people filed in through the doors.

I was going to have to have serious words with her about this “my girl” thing.

I managed to stay out of the way most of the time and every time I looked at Jocelyn, I felt worse and worse. Why was I trying so desperately hard to keep out of her way? Why was I leaving her to be miserable when all she wanted to do was see me? It didn’t mean that anything else was going to happen did it?

I gulped down some air and walked towards her, but somewhere midway between where I was and was heading for, I was called to do something else instead and when I finished, she was nowhere in sight.

I just felt totally rotten to the core. I should have just told her that the ‘relation’ she had met wasn’t interested, but then with the way things turned out, perhaps I was right to do things just the way I had. It didn’t stop the feeling that I was hurting inside because I felt I was hurting her.

I slipped out to the toilet and was going to sit in the cool for a couple of minutes and try and bring back the professional front that needed to be there, but when I got into the ladies, Jocelyn was already in there.

I stopped dead, staring at the girl stood before the sink. She was blotting her eyes and it looked as though she wasn’t really enjoying this very special of days.

“Why so glum?” I asked.

“I’m just a silly, stupid girl.” she said sniffing and not taking her eyes off the mirror.

“Really?”

“I asked someone to come and they didn’t. It was really dumb of me to expect it. I mean we only met once and even then it was only for a minute or two.” I went into the stall, not able to hold the call of nature back any more.

“You never know, they might come later.” I said through the door.

“Huh! I should be so lucky. No, I’ve just got to accept the fact that this is going to be the worst birthday party ever. I mean, it’s like mum doesn’t want me to have any fun. Everything’s been so carefully put together and those people? They’re all friends or business associates of hers, here for business reasons. It’s got nothing to do with my birthday. There’s no-one here from school, not one of my friends. It’s horrible.”

“There is one.” I said flushing the toilet and stepping out of the stall.

“Oh yeah?” she said. “Who?”

“Me.” I said, shaking like a jelly on the spin dryer. She turned.

“You? Who are…?” The mouth dropped open and I went a little closer, lifting her chin, closing it again.

“I didn’t know this is where I was going to be working, but well, call it fate, because here I am.” I took her hands in mine as she looked at me her eyes wide and starting once again to fill.

“You’re working?”

“Yeah. Mum and Ronnie own the business. Guess who got roped in?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Firstly, I didn’t know and secondly, there’s something really important I need to tell you.”

“You look, um, staggering.” she said. “I mean I liked you last time, but this? This is something else. Holy shit!”

“Thanks.” I said. “I really do need to tell you something though…” She put a finger to my lips and was moving in for a kiss when the door opened and in came her mum.

“What are you doing in here?” she said. “There are people out there who have come a long way to see you. What are you doing with my daughter?”

“I was just having a word. She was upset that someone she hoped to see wasn’t here and she got a little tearful is all. I think we managed to save her makeup before she got to the stage of looking like a panda though.”

Mrs. Tanner stood there looking from Jocelyn to me and back and before she had a chance to say anything I looked deep into Jocelyn’s eyes and told her that if there was anything she wanted to come find me.

I smiled at Mrs. Tanner as I left them to it, both of them looking a little shell-shocked.

The next time I saw Jocelyn, she was leading her rather bemused mother from the toilets and out into the main function room. I was serving or collecting or maybe both, but the slumped shoulders and look of misery was gone and a much more smiley - radiant even Jocelyn Tanner was in her place.


Later that evening as things were drawing to a close, I went again to spend a penny and when I came out Jocelyn was there.

“I’ve been waiting all night for this.” she said and taking my hand, she backed up against the door and pulled me in close. “I’m not letting anything stop me now either.”

I was about to say that I needed to tell her that there was something she needed to know, but before I could open my mouth — for words that is, she had it otherwise engaged, her tongue snaking around in mine and well, were it not for the fact that I was fairly well propped against her, I think my knees would have given way.

When we finally parted, she looked at me and giggled.

“Was I worth waiting for?”

“W-worth it?” I stammered, trying to stop seeing double and wondering where my knees had gone. “I should say so. Was I?”

“Oh God yes. Definitely.” she replied slightly breathlessly.

“Happy birthday Jocelyn and I am so glad I could make it, even if it wasn’t the way I wanted to.”

“It is now.” she said and gave me just a sweet little kiss that had my legs buckling all over again.

She did a fairly good job of checking me over and we walked out of the toilets, giving my bum a bit of a grope, well more of a stroke or pat really, before going back to her family and her mum’s friends.

I didn’t get to tell her what I needed to tell her, but I so desperately wanted to, needed to. I only had to look at her for my knees to start to tremble and the air to whoosh out of me, leaving me in a state of light-headedness and I could see that without a shadow of doubt, there was a big difference between what we had and what I had with Becky.

After no time at all, two… no three kisses, one stroke of my arse and a coupe of conversations, I was in love; in it up to my neck and sinking fast, with trouble no doubt following.

Mrs. Tanner and Jocelyn hung about until all of the party-goers were gone and I nearly missed her going altogether. I just managed to catch her as she was leaving.

“I hope you had a good time, Jocelyn.” I said.

“It was the best.” she said smiling and I could see that there was more she wanted to say, but her mum was pressing for them to leave. I nearly had tears in my eyes when the door closed behind them.

Mum was looking at me and I think she understood now what I meant by what I’d said about her at home. I turned back to the tables and began gathering the plates and cutlery, glasses as the door burst open and Jocelyn ran in, straight up to me and flung her arms round me. We hugged for a few moments, before she looked into my eyes and I just melted into her lips. I don’t know how long we were like that, probably no more than a moment, but it felt like a lifetime passed between us in that magical few seconds.

She pulled away, our eyes locked on one another and as she was about to leave, I suddenly thought.

“Wait!” I said, running to where mum and Ronnie were standing. “Have you got a pen and some paper, a napkin; anything?” In a flurry of thumbs, a pen appeared with a post-it. I wrote down our phone number and handed it to her, just as her mum came back in through the door.

“Please don’t dawdle now. We have to get home. Have you got what you came for?”

“Yes mum. Yes.”

“Thank you for a very pleasant evening.” she said to Ronnie and mum. I think she was under the impression that as an underling, I didn’t need to be acknowledged, but I smiled pleasantly to her anyway. The door closed with a click and I was brought back to the present.

“Earth calling Michelle!” said mum. “Boy you certainly can pick ‘em.” I just grinned back.

Ronnie didn’t guess who I was all evening and mum and I were almost rolling around laughing our arses off when we did break it to her.

I did wonder.” she said. “When I saw the two girls, I mean Alex and Jocelyn kissing.”

We couldn't believe it had gone on so long and Ronnie admitted I’d completely fooled her.

I had some serious thinking to do.

I supposed I could tell Jocelyn who I was over the phone, but I didn’t think that would go down too well. Well hopefully, if mum and Ron wanted any more work done, then perhaps a little give and take would be in order, after all, Michelle is a very nice girl isn’t she and it would seem a shame for her to have to be locked away in a box wouldn’t it? Never mind all those lovely clothes going to waste…

Not Fin…

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Comments

Happy Birthday, Jocelyn

Nick,
Oh my, what tangled webs we weave when we practace to deceive. Seems appropraite even though Alex?/Michele never intended deception. Looks like a very interesting web if I must say so myself.

Nothing in Life is Free, if the cost is not monitary it will be physical, emotional, or spiritual.
Rachel Anne

Nothing in Life is Free; if the cost is not monetary it will be physical, emotional, or spiritual.
Rachel Anne

Alex's Adventures

Oh my, Nick,

Just found and read all three episodes. Terrific story. I do look forward to seeing more chapters.

Thanks for sharing.

fregen

The more one digs the bigger and deeper the hole gets

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Dear Nick,

Sometimes it seems easier to keep one's head down and keep digging.

This story keeps getting better with each instalment. I feel real sympathy for Alex/Michelle's predicament. Through no fault of his own he has a probable lesbian falling head over heels for his female alter-ego. I hope you have a happy ending in mind for him, he seems to be a good person.

Thank you.

with love,

Hope

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.