Reluctant Diva 6
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 6 – The Pageant
For the next half-hour, that was all we did. I smiled until I felt my face would be stuck like that forever. The waving wasn’t too bad as the exercise helped to keep me warm in the weak November sunshine. With the skimpiness of my attire I was thankful that the weather was being relatively kind. As far as I could tell from the increased volume of cheers and whistles when we passed, our float was the best received by the onlookers. I tried to avoid eye-contact with the crowd but perched up high as I was I seemed to be getting more than my share of attention. At first this was terrifying until I remembered that no-one could possibly recognise me, decked out as I was, and then I started to enjoy myself. By the time we were half-way I was really throwing myself into the part, raising both arms above my head to wave, and primping and posing for all I was worth! Mom and Delia had been right. This was a blast!
On the corner of East and Main I spotted Tom and his buddies who of course were in on my secret. Their derisive gestures and catcalls rather took the wind from my sails but soon they were out of sight and before I knew it we had halted in front of City Hall. The crowd was thickest around there. I’d just caught sight of Mom, and grinning from ear to ear, was waving excitedly to her when my hand was taken by our host. Smirking all over his face, he led me down from my perch before any of the other ‘girls’, to lead the little procession into the hall itself. I was feeling elated and on impulse picked up candies from my tray and tossed them to some of the kids in the throng around me until it was empty. I turned for one last wave and disappeared inside the door. It felt like a moment of triumph and if the day had ended there I would have been totally satisfied. There was more to follow however, much more.
Once inside City Hall, we contestants were ushered into the main auditorium. There were twenty-five of us. Our numbers were called one by one under Janet’s supervision and we were introduced to the audience as we walked on stage. As I waited for 16 to be called I found my effervescent mood was fast evaporating. This was getting scary. It was one thing to sit on a float with the other ‘girls’ or to dash in past a crowd of people, but to stand there in front of an audience! I wasn’t sure I could continue to carry it off. When the count reached my number I was almost shaking.
I heard Percy announce “…and now our very own Cigar Girl, representing the long traditions of our state, pretty in pink and sweet sixteen, Jennifer Cartwright!” I literally froze but Janet gave me a none-too-gentle push and hissed “Smile!” and I found myself walking across the stage. A storm of applause hit me before I was half-way. Blushing deeply I stopped centre stage and bobbed some kind of curtsy and gave the best smile I could manage. I was greeted with whistles and cheers and coloured up to the roots of my hair. It only lasted a couple of seconds but it seemed like an eternity before I turned and walked to join the others who had already been announced. Once all of us had been introduced we bobbed again and filed off the stage. My knees felt weak after this ordeal and I needed the bathroom desperately.
Mom was waiting in the room which had been set aside as a changing area, all smiles.
Hugging me, “Jennifer, I’m proud of you!” she began, but I had to interrupt.
“Sorry. I have to pay a call” I whispered urgently and dashed for the door. The restrooms were at the end of the corridor and I clopped down there in my heels as quickly as I could. It promised to be quite a performance using the toilet, but once my costume and panty-girdle were down I just had to sit and pee. To my surprise and relief I found I could do this without removing the tapes which tucked everything away down below. I just had to give myself a wipe afterwards. This may be way too much information, but being able to do that made me feel more like a real girl than anything in my experience so far!
When I emerged from the cubicle I found the ‘mermaid’ standing before the mirror, touching up her make-up. She seemed friendly and I joined her to do likewise. Her name was Carrie.
“You’re popular!” she commented. “Very popular. Having fun, are we?”
I smiled and nodded a little nervously. Our toilettes completed, we left the bathroom together.
“Don’t be scared, honey! You are doing just great.” Then, “Say. Have you done this before? How old are you?”
I was unsure about answering this but sensed that she was just trying to be nice. “No. This is my first time. I’ll be fifteen in May.” My words stopped her in mid step.
“You’re fourteen?! Really?! Fourteen. Well you fooled me. Honey, you look amazing. I wished I’d looked like you at fourteen, or eighteen for that matter. I’m twenty next week. You know you could win this pageant?”
I stared at her wide-eyed. “You think?”
“Oh yes! You’re the one to watch all right. Well, I hope you do win” and she giggled. “If I don’t win myself, of course. Might be third time lucky for me. Who knows?”
Turning a corner as we approached the changing room I nearly bumped into the host, Percy.
“What a vision! Such loveliness!” he beamed at us. “Now girls, don’t delay. Time is of the essence.”
My new friend was allowed to pass in front of him but I was detained by an arm on my waist.
“Are you having fun, my dear?” he smirked. “I believe this is your first time? Well Jennifer, or is it Jenny? I have to say, you have made quite an impression so far.”
His hand on my waist strayed downwards. “Anything you need just let me know.”
I gave an involuntary start as my butt was treated to a little squeeze. “Anything at all!”
Carrie, who had witnessed this little exchange looked archly at him. “Now Mr Gardner, don’t get confused!” she chided drolly. “Sixteen is her number, not her age, you know!”
She was rewarded by his looking somewhat discomfited. She giggled “You can find bigger fish to fry, I’m sure,” and she wiggled her ‘tail’ provocatively at him before disappearing through the changing room door.
Self-preservation uppermost in my mind, I quickly followed into the room and found my mother waiting and looking just a tad impatient. “Quick now, girl!” I was ushered behind a screen where she helped me out of the pink costume. Well used to taking care of such delicate items, I peeled the hose from my legs carefully so they didn’t get snagged. Standing in just my panty-girdle I took the swimsuit which I was to wear for the next part of the pageant from my mother. It was in a shiny material with a bold pattern and looked expensive. There were two parts to it: high rise briefs and a halter bikini top. The latter had had padded inserts sewn into it, no doubt Mom’s handiwork. It only took moments to wriggle into the briefs but she spent what seemed an age fiddling with them to even out any wrinkles and make sure nothing showed beneath. She spent almost as long adjusting the top to perfect the shape of my ‘breasts’ and maximise my cleavage. White open-toed sandals which showed off my pretty pink toe-nails completed the ensemble.

Having given my makeup and hair another once-over, Mom drug me over to a full length mirror. My reflection showed perfectly the image of a pretty teenage miss on her way to the pool. Where had Rob disappeared to? Even though I was so scantily clad, there wasn’t the smallest hint of my boyhood visible that I could see.
“Honey! You look amazing!” exclaimed my parent excitedly. She seemed like a little girl having a birthday. I smiled anxiously back at her, trying to match her mood. Just then we were ushered out towards the stage again. One by one we had to walk across to one wing, bob a curtsy, then across to the other, curtsy again, then back to the centre where we were to revolve slowly and finally perform another bob before joining the other girls at the back of the stage. Such parades are no longer deemed correct these days, but they were everyday happenings back then. It certainly taught me something. I got a first-hand understanding how a prize animal must have felt being led around the ring at the show. At least I wasn’t about to get eaten afterwards. Unless Percy had his way of course!
After my entrance, I had ample time to glance around the auditorium and see if there was anyone I recognised. There were a couple of teachers from the high school, and Delia, my hair stylist, but that was about it. There was no hint of recognition from either of the former but a double thumbs-up from the latter when I caught her eye. Then a woman’s face in the row behind her made me look again. She seemed to be watching me with an intent gaze and that seemed somehow familiar. Before I could reach any conclusion, this part of the pageant ended with some earnest deliberations from the row of judges in the front row of the audience and then we contestants filed off stage to prepare for the final section. As we did so I realised the woman I’d noticed was the elegant female I’d seen at the salon and who had taken such an interest in me.
Back in the changing room Janet called for everyone’s attention and read out the numbers of the girls whom the judges had selected as finalists. She announced them out in numerical sequence and when she got to 19 I wasn’t too displeased to realise that I hadn’t made the cut. Before I could express relief, however, a glance at Mom’s face changed my feelings to those of genuine disappointment. She looked so deflated. This competition obviously meant a great deal to her and I felt I’d somehow let her down. Then Janet got to the end of her list and the final number called was mine after all. While my parent was clearly overjoyed at this surprising turn, it was quite an effort for me to mirror her pleasure. This whole thing was getting way too scary.
The thought that started to occupy my mind was what indeed would happen if I were actually to win. I had seen photographers in the lobby and the press were obviously around. My secret started to weigh more heavily on me. Having my photo in the local paper with a full exposé was my worst nightmare! What about the state-wide contest which would follow? There was no way I could face that!
It was too late to turn back now so all I could do was to plough on and just hope that I wouldn’t be humiliated too much; also to pray! I busied myself with getting ready. To accompany my new dress were a pair of very high evening shoes with little pieces of diamante attached. I suspected my mom’s ingenuity again because they exactly matched the earrings and bracelet I was also given to wear. Underneath my dress, a waist nipping garter belt supported some very sheer hose. Its slimming effect drew attention to my ‘bust’ to which the padded bodice of the dress gave an even more prominent cleavage.
When I’d completed changing, Delia joined us to my surprise and pleasure. It felt like there was another person on my side and I was hugged and complimented all over again. There was an underlying purpose however. She took out a little bun hairpiece and clipped it in place on top of my head and spent some time rearranging my hair to suit this new addition.

When I looked in the mirror, my hair had been beautifully rearranged in a style popularised by Audrey Hepburn. Wow! I was finally ready so I took a deep breath and made my way out to the stage with the other nine girls. Just like in the bathing beauty section, when our name was announced we had to make our way to each of the wings, then do a twirl in the centre and bob a curtsy, before joining the others. As before my reception was as enthusiastic as anyone’s and louder than most. I could only wait anxiously while the results were debated among the judges. I was about ready to collapse from the nervous exhaustion of it all. Part of me dreaded being singled out any further but I was also harbouring a lurking desire to win. Finding myself entertaining such a wish was something I would never have expected.
Finally, after what seemed an age, the announcements came. Percy made a, mercifully short, speech walking up and down the line of us and leering at each girl in turn.
Then, “And in reverse order, our winners: in third place we have our blonde bombshell, number 11, Patricia.” The girl so named stepped forward to receive her award, beaming with delight.
“In second place, looking as if she’s just come from Hollywood, it’s Jennifer, number sweet 16!”
Totally shocked at the reality of this, I could only gape, frozen in disbelief. After a moment I was pushed forward by the girls on either side to stand like a rabbit caught in the headlights and take my award: a rosette pinned on by Janet, a bouquet of flowers and a prize envelope.
The rest of the ceremony on stage was a blur. The only thing I took in was that my new friend Carrie was the overall winner. I was delighted for her and when the three of us winners exchanged hugs, my embraces were genuinely heartfelt. It was quite natural. Both my companions on the podium were curvy and attractive in the extreme and I experienced an intense and embarrassing tingling down below as they pressed themselves up against me. I was grateful that everything had been taped away so securely. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with! After the applause had died down and the cameras had stopped flashing we were escorted off stage by our host. Mom met me in the lobby looking proud and happy and for once was speechless. After she’d hugged me I handed her my prize envelope and flowers for safe keeping. It felt so good that I was able to give her something back for all her pains.
After a few minutes, we were ushered into a tiny press room where several photographers took shot after shot of us three winners, both singly and together. Then they wanted pictures of us with our parents. Alarm bells flashed in my head at this. A photo of my mother with a ‘daughter’ she didn’t actually have in our local newspaper would blow my secret sky high. It was too much and desperate measures were called for. While Carrie and her dad were being posed for the cameras I made a hasty exit, whispering “Bathroom! Bathroom!” in explanation to anyone who looked at me questioningly.
Once I’d escaped and was safely locked in my cubicle I sat and leant back against the partition exhausted. I must have remained there for twenty minutes while people entered and left the outer room. Eventually the sound of Mom’s voice made her presence known. “Jennifer! Jennifer! Are you in here?”
“It’s okay, Mom.” I emerged, not a little anxious as to how she would view my cowardly disappearance. I was reassured to see that she merely looked worried rather than cross, and the scolding I half-expected didn’t materialise.
“Is it safe to go out there? Have the reporters gone? Don’t be mad, Mom. I just couldn’t face them.”
She looked at me in disbelief and then leaned back against the counter laughing weakly.
“So you didn’t fancy an interview? Now that’s a shame! Any ‘girl’ worth her salt would just die to have her name in a press cutting to show off to all her friends.”
“That’s just it, Mom. I would literally die!” I really meant it too.
“Come on sweetie, we’ll get you home. You’ve done plenty for one day and deserve a treat. How about a nice ice-cream soda and a slice of your favourite cake?”
“Gee thanks. That would be heaven. Oh, Mom!” I felt so close to her, my eyes felt moist.
“What is it, my precious?”
I just melted. She had never called me anything like that before and a tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t win. I tried my best, really I did. I know how much you wanted me to.”
I was rewarded by being enfolded in a huge hug. After all the breath had been squeezed from me she pulled back and held me by both arms.
“Listen, sweetie. I couldn’t be more proud of you. As far as I’m concerned you did win. Absolutely!”
The following day was a school holiday, and I was allowed to lie in as long as I wanted. When I eventually came downstairs I could see that my mother was seated outside, reading the paper in the mild sunshine. The autumn flowers in the border danced in the gentle breeze and birds were singing. I fixed myself some fruit and cereal for breakfast, and set the percolator going as I ate. After I had poured us each a coffee I took it out to Mom in anticipation of her wants. The events of the day before seemed unreal and I stood staring at the flower bed opposite while absently recalling them. After a while I became aware that a silence had enveloped us. This lifted me abruptly from my reverie and I realised that my mom had been looking at me intently for some time. She was smiling but also her face was tinged with something I didn’t see there very often. It almost seemed that it might be interpreted as admiration. That was totally unexpected and not a little unnerving!
“Mom?”
“Come sit with me, Jennifer” was her opening remark, and I obeyed. Beside her was my brush and comb which she took up. Seated next to her it was pleasant to have her brush out my hair and play with it. First she tried one style and then another.
“You know, Jennifer” she murmured. “It would be a real shame to lose these extensions. There’s so much scope with it like this. Let’s see if we can arrange it nicely so it will be fine for school on Monday.”
Really?! She now had my full attention.
“How much have you thought about yesterday, sweetie?” she asked gently. “Do you realise the significance of what you did?”
Wondering which bit of the day she was referring to, doubtless I looked mystified, so she went on “You did something which only a female could do. Not just any female either. How does that make you feel?”
“I dunno….” I mumbled.
“Well I know, and I’m proud of you. You realise what this means, Jennifer. It means we are going to have to take things a bit more seriously. You have the potential to go much further than just dressing like a girl now and then.” Now and then?! “It’s important that you do fulfil that potential, if you decide you want to.”
I must have looked confused, not having a clue as to what she was driving at.
“Let me put it simply. At the moment you are having to deal with two sets of feelings. You are attracted to boys.”
I started to protest but was overruled. “Oh yes, it’s obvious that you are; Chris, for instance, and Dennis. That’s only natural in a girl your age.”
But I’m a boy! What is she talking about?
Ignoring my somewhat rebellious look, Mom continued serenely “Also I can see you are still turned on by girls. Liking both isn’t that uncommon you know, but it will be much more difficult for you to deal with the feelings that arise. Girls are very tactile and always touching and hugging each other, as you are already finding. Your body’s response to that is embarrassing for you. Yes?
I blushed but, recalling the presentation ceremony yesterday, could make no denial.
“Now… wouldn’t you prefer it if that little thing of yours was more under your control?”
I hesitated, but in the end I was forced to see some sense in this rather tortuous logic. I nodded dumbly.
“I’m glad we agree,” she looked pleased and slightly relieved. “What I’m going to suggest is an easy way for you to deal with the whole matter. The ‘vitamins’ you are already taking are essential for a ‘girl’ like you, but there’s another kind of pill you can take in addition. It’s called an anti-androgen and will help you say goodbye to those embarrassing ‘problems’ you keep having down below. They won’t go away altogether but it will take a lot more stimulus to start one off. Also, if you do experience one it won’t be as strong, so will be easier to hide. Either way you ought to find that all to the good. There may be some other little effects. Your chest may become a little tender, especially at your time of the month. You might feel a little flushed occasionally too but that’s easily accommodated. What do you think, Jennifer? You’re reaching an age where you need to make these decisions for yourself.”
My mom’s face bore a winning smile and an even deeper accord between us seemed to be on offer. All I had to do was go along with her suggestion. I thought for a few minutes. There didn’t seem to be any valid objection I could make and I was anxious to remain in her favour. The merits of her argument were overpowering.
“You know best, Mom.” I acquiesced. While not fully understanding what had just been decided, I did have a sense that one more vestige of my manhood was being stripped away from me. However, this further step seemed inevitable. I was too far along the road to put up the kind of fight which would be required to enable me to turn back. It might be better to be spared having to endure some of those humiliating erections I was getting, especially as they stood so little chance of being fulfilled.
The alteration to my medication started the next day. I took the new extra pill along with my others without a murmur. Nothing seemed to change immediately and some weeks went by before I noticed anything different.