previously read:

I may even be able to entice my husband into bed with this outfit. Of course, he might be the kind of man who likes to see his wife in a formal gown. I remember my eyebrows and go over to the vanity. I check them out and do a little judicious plucking. Better. Maybe a little more here… and there… and there…. Good! Wish I had just a slightly darker shade of lipstick. This shade looks just a little too young for me, it will probably annoy me until I can find another shade.

---

Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf by T D Aldoennetti on Friday, 10/31/2008 - 3:58 PM., Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chapter 3 is revised and reposted on Tuesday, 12/03/2009 - 8:35 PM. ~Sephrena

---

moving along briskly:

Chapter 03

 

Following breakfast during the next couple of days, I spend the mornings walking around my room while wearing the pumps, rotating them each hour so both pairs, as well as my feet, will be broken in before I need to wear the shoes for real. It would hardly do to walk in the same pair all week and then wear a new pair for the test. That would be a guaranteed way to wind up with sore feet, especially if I have to dance, as they seem to have indicated.

The days are also spent in practice at putting on my makeup, then cleaning it off and putting it on again until I am satisfied for the moment. Just before the next meal, I wash it all off again so I can go to eat lunch or supper as a male. This is getting old really fast.

It’s difficult, eating as a male then coming back up here and locking myself in so I can practice some more for the impending ‘test.’ I’m getting better at it though.

I’m beginning to remember the necessary tricks of using makeup effectively, although I am still wishing for a slightly darker shade of lipstick. Of course, if it is too dark, then I am no longer a lady but am a pretender or worse.

My third day in the room, the phone rings and when I answer I am informed that a number of boxes have just arrived for me and will be brought up. I hurry to wash off the makeup, finishing just as there is a knock at the door. Checking myself quickly in the mirror, I toss the pumps into an out-of-sight corner then answer the door, towel in hand. I accept the boxes thanking the enlisted men who deliver them. Then I retreat back behind my locked door to remove the wrappings on the boxes.

I discover they contain four women’s uniforms complete with unit insignia and major’s rank on the epaulets. And surprise! They are my size. Now I know why they took my measurements. The additional boxes contain all of the necessary articles of clothing and shoes to match them. This is interesting. I try one of them on and it fits well, not perfectly. Well, I’m missing a little something up in the breast area but otherwise things look pretty good. I wonder what this is all about?

The uniforms go into the closet and the other clothing into appropriate drawers.

This is food for thought. After supper I continue to practice walking and even take a few waltz steps while in the pumps, neatly twisting my ankle and crashing to the floor in pain. End result, I hobble around the room for about an hour. The dancing isn’t coming easily, it’s been a long time.

The next day, after breakfast, I practice my makeup for the umpteenth time, still not quite happy with it but unable to fix the problem due to the limited nature of the available supplies to be found here. By now I have probably put on and washed off my makeup four or five dozen times and gone through the first and part of the second set of supplies we purchased.

Fortunately I had enough presence of mind to pick up three of everything, and five of the foundation. The General allowed it when I explained that the first and possibly even second set would be used up in a matter of days as I practiced my techniques which have not been in use for some five years. Then too, the colours are not ideal so I will also need to learn how to make myself appear good with inappropriate supplies.

He told me I was talking like his wife, “Young lady, the two of you would probably get along fine discussing makeup and dresses and cooking and….” He sounds disgusted. Suddenly he gives me a funny look for a moment before he raises an eyebrow. He continues to look at me strangely for a moment longer before shaking his head as though to clear it of cobwebs. After that day shopping, pretty much anything I asked for to help my appearance he made certain I received.

One more day has passed and I am beginning to worry about the wig and breast forms. There has been no hint of their arrival. I continue to practice my walking and dancing. A couple of times I put on the makeup, less is more you know, and then everything necessary to go with the woman’s uniforms. Checking myself out in the mirror I think it isn’t too bad. If I had a proper wig, I could probably pass, even with the present condition of my legs. They aren’t bad, but I would like them to be better. My tummy pokes out too much as well. That could be solved with more sit-ups, stretches and salads, while eating less beef and potatoes.

While I have a little fat and could afford to lose a few pounds, like ten or fifteen, I’m actually in fairly good shape. Lots of fruit and salads will help. Found some vitamins at the PX, that’s the Post Exchange…. You know, the military Walmart?

Never mind…. I went shopping yesterday, as a male!

The wig and breast forms finally arrive. The wig fits well and looks good.

Fortunately someone listened, so the adhesives and cutting agents are also in the packages. I try on the gown with my breast forms, wig and makeup in place.

Checking the mirror I find a young woman, who could easily have been the girl I remember from my previous years, staring back at me. I might actually survive an evening date. I could go dancing looking like this. I’ll change back into masculine clothing after I try on one of the skirt uniforms…. Geez, nice uniform. I wouldn’t mind dating her except she’s a Major and I’m a Captain.

Just then a knock occurs at the door. I bite the bullet, check myself in the mirror again and go answer the door while wearing the skirt uniform with my full major’s insignia and all. The general is standing there and he gives me a quick look and apologizes for having knocked at the wrong door. He is just considering a double take when I reply; “That’s fine, Sir. Come in. You are not at the wrong room.”

He is still flustered but enters obviously looking for someone, and attempting to resolve a female being in the hotel designated as a male billet.

“How do I look, Sir? Is this test enough?”

At that comment he stops like he is frozen, then turns and looks carefully at me.

He shakes his head like he is clearing cobwebs again and looks at me some more.

“I think I need a drink.”

“What would you like, Sir?” My voice and mannerisms are definitely feminine. I walk across the room to the built in bar and feel his eyes watching my legs and the skirt swinging back and forth as I go.

“I shouldn’t do this, Julie will have my liver.…. Scotch. Make it a double.”

I return with his drink handing it to him, “Would you care to sit down, Sir?”

“After you.”

He again watches me walk to the table where I sit on a chair as he appraises my every move.

“I don’t believe it. I know who you are, but all I see is this woman. How do you look in the gown?”

“About the same, Sir.”

He thinks about that, “I’m going downstairs for about an hour. Is that enough time for you to change to a gown?”

“Change, Yes, Sir. But if my makeup or hair need to be adjusted, then I may need a little longer. Also if I get made up in a gown then I’m stuck looking female for about five days to two weeks because I will need to fasten the breast forms and wig in place, which will take extra time to accomplish.”

“I see. Your hair may be down, it doesn’t need to be up. You may wear a woman’s uniform whenever you need to go out from now on. If you can be ready by, he checks his watch, say… 1750, then we will go pick up my wife and all go together to an embassy function. Consider this to be your final test.”

“Yes, Sir. I need to hurry if I am to be ready by 1750. I hope this won’t get you in trouble with your wife, Sir.”

“It won’t. I’m going to call her and tell her the test date has moved up. You were going to go with us Saturday but we will do it impromptu tonight. Let’s see your gown again.”

I show him the strapless gown in lavender. Again his eyebrow shoot up as he looks at me as I hold the gown against me so he may get an idea of how it might look when I am wearing it.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Capt…. I mean Major, ‘Ma’am’,” he smiles as he says it. “If you are able to pull this off then I think you may do most anything we need.”

He walks over to the phone and calls his wife. He explains that he thinks the little test he has mentioned will occur tonight rather than Saturday and we will simply say his niece has arrived in country earlier than expected.

“What colour? It’s purple. What kind of purple? Here you talk with him, I mean her.”

He hands me the phone as I look at him like he’s crazy, “Hello?”

“How do you do? This is Julie Pendleton, I was wondering what colour gown you intend to wear tonight?”

“It’s lavender with matching pumps and clutch purse. I have pearls to wear or I might wear imitation diamonds. My hair is light with thin streaks of medium brown and my eyes are hazel. My fingernails are in a pale bluish pink. Is that enough information?”

“Certainly. Phillip has explained to me the nature of this ‘test.’ We will be calling you Lucy as that is the name of our niece. Lucy Ann Jackson. I trust you look good enough that you won’t cause her or us any embarrassment?”

“I shall endeavor to be a lady at all times, Aunt….”

“She calls me Aunt Julie.”

“Thank you, Aunt Julie. I look forward to meeting you. I need to change out of my uniform and into my gown so I’ll be ready to go. Do you need to talk more with Uncle Phillip?”

“No, just tell him he’d better be right. Oh! Wear the pearls or no jewelry at all.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Nice to talk with you. Bye.”

“Good bye.”

I take a deep breath and turn to the General, “Uncle Phillip, she said ‘you’d better be right.’ ”

He smiles and starts laughing as he walks to the door. He is still chuckling as he goes into the hall, closing the door behind him. I go lock the door and then start changing like mad, wishing they had asked me to do this when I was just out of high school. My own hair was eight to twelve inches long then, instead of a quarter inch, so I might have been able to pass without a wig. I do like the long length the wig offers though. I might be able to grow my own hair back.

I think about how quickly it grows as I draw the water for a quick bath, adding some scented oil as it begins to fill. I go hang my uniform and prepare my cosmetics then check on the bath. I know my hair grows about three to three and a half inches a year. That means in ten years I could have my own hair in this length. Water’s ready, so now for a fast scented bath. The wig is off so it won’t get wet.

I finish my quick bath, dry and put on my undergarments, slap on a bra to help situate the breast forms and, after applying adhesive to them, slide them into place quickly adjusting them before the adhesive prevents me from moving them. Now they will remain in place while I apply my makeup, giving the adhesive the opportunity to set while I accomplish something else. Once the adhesive ‘grabs,’ a little makeup manages to hide any telltale edges which were barely perceptible anyway. The bra has long since come off and the bustiere and my other undergarments and hose go on.

Finally the gown covers it all, as I make some adjustments while continuing to fasten it. Checking my appearance in the mirror, hmm, not perfect but better than average.

Someone I might like to meet if I were a boy. I prepare the wig with adhesive after considering my own hair which sticks up like a pin-cushion when it is this short. I fasten the wig to my head managing to find skin for it to adhere to rather than hair.

After allowing some time for the adhesive to set, a little brushing brings it all into line and my appearance is good. It had better be good. Now I’m stuck with it even when I sleep for the next five or six days. With long hair capable of hanging straight it will be easier to care for than if it was in curls. I check myself in the mirror again. Not bad at all. I guess the final verdict will be from Uncle Phillip and Aunt Julie.

A touch of perfume, then I pack my clutch with my ID, my room key and a little scrip/money, lipstick and touch up cosmetics. Damn, I forgot, I have no fur. Oh well, can’t remember everything. Now for the Pearls, earrings (that’ll be a shocker for him if he even notices, they’re pierced), necklace and bracelet. A cheap ring that looks good and could be believed to be an engagement ring goes on my finger, a small gold plated watch on my other wrist. The General is at the door again. I am beginning to recognize his knock. I grab my clutch and answer the door.

“Hello, Uncle Phillip. I’m ready.”

His eyes fall out of his head as he motions me back into the room. His jaw drops and I am visualizing a cartoon character with the jaw dropping to the floor along with the tongue and the eyes bugging out at me like binoculars while the mouth goes into a wolf whistle siren. All that’s missing is the thumping foot.

“I don’t believe it. I see it and I don’t believe it. Turn around.”

I do a slow pirouette just as any red blooded American girl would for her Uncle and then stand there the picture of femininity waiting for him to say something.

“Julie will never believe this. All right, let’s go.”

“Sir. If you don’t treat me like I’m your niece then everyone will know something isn’t right.”

He stops in his tracks. Turning toward me, “You’re right, Lucy. Pardon me.” He offers me his arm, leading me to the door before opening it to allow me to exit as he locks it asking, “Do you have your room key?”

“Yes, Uncle Phillip.”

He smiles and snorts, then appears reflective of some thought, closing the door behind us and once again offers me his arm. We walk to the elevator. After we exit the elevator, and as we cross the lobby, I feel hundreds of pairs of eyes watching us, me, as we walk to the door and out to the car. The driver does a double take and opens the door for me. I enter and carefully swing my legs in then my uncle goes around and enters from the other side. The driver takes us to the home the Army is leasing for the General and his family. There the whole thing occurs in reverse and he leads me, on his arm, into the house.

“Have a seat, Lucy. I’ll let Julie know you’ve arrived.”

He walks off chuckling as he goes.

A few minutes later an attractive older lady enters the room and stops cold. She looks at me, “Lucy would you get up and turn around for me please?”

I do as she asks with another slow pirouette. She just looks at me, dumbfounded.

“May I look a little closer at you? I’m not quite believing this.”

We walk over to each other and she examines me from head to toe.

“Who are you really?” she asks, “What kind of joke is this?”

“Joke? I don’t understand.”

“Phillip said this was to be a test to see how well a man could look like a woman for some special assignment. You are hardly a man.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you think so, Aunt Julie.”

“Phillip. Come in here this instant. I don’t know what game you are playing at mister, but you’d better explain it pronto.”

The general comes into the room a confused expression on his face, “What’s wrong, Julie?”

“Don’t you ‘what’s wrong, Julie?’ me. You explain who this bimbo is right now.”

“Captain, would you please use your normal voice for a moment and explain to my wife what this is all about?”

After a few faltering tries my voice drops to a masculine normal, “Yes, Sir. Ma’am, this is to be my test to see if I may pass as a woman for a special undercover assignment. The assignment is quite dangerous, or so I have been led to believe, so a real woman cannot be used. I can prove I’m male if it’s necessary. But for tonight my appearance is female so we can see how well I do. Apparently I do okay so far.”

She looks at me some more and she says the same thing the general said, “I don’t believe it. All-right, Miss Smarty Pants, prove it.”

Once again in a feminine voice, “Yes, Ma’am. May we go into the bedroom? I don’t want to undress in front of a man.”

The general breaks out into laughter, putting his hand up across his eyes, as his wife grabs my hand, half leading, half dragging me to the bedroom while he continues to laugh.

Five minutes later we are out in the living room again. The General has calmed down and his wife is still muttering, “I don’t believe it,” then she says, “You make a beautiful young woman.”

“Thank you, Aunt Julie.”

“You had best be careful at this function, young lady. There are a lot of predators who attend these things. Don’t get out of sight. And don’t drink anything someone hands to you. Date rape drugs are widely available over here, and many think that a young American female is great hunting.”

“Yes, Aunt Julie. I’ll try to be careful.”

“You don’t have a wrap. Will you be warm enough later?”

“I forgot to purchase one,” I agree. “It will only be for a short time and the nights are not all that cold, so I should be all right.”

“Nonsense. Here, borrow this one.” She hands me the short wrap, “I’ll take my coat. White goes well with your gown. We’ll be checking them when we enter the embassy so they’ll stay clean.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. I expect my niece to look like, and be, a lady at all times. Don’t make me sorry we are taking you with us. And don’t drink. Lucy doesn’t drink, so neither do you.”

“I understand. I don’t drink anyway. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to experience an embassy function.”

“It’s about time you decided to attend these…. Sorry, I actually began to think of you as my niece. It’s uncanny. You look a great deal like her. That’s part of the reason why I thought Phillip was up to something.”

“Thank you, Aunt Julie.”

“Don’t thank me. That was hardly a compliment. She is a spoiled brat.”

“But, Aunt Julie, you didn’t say I acted like her, you said I look like her. I take that to be a compliment.”

She smiles and reaches out to pat my cheek, “Indeed. That much of it is a compliment. She had best take care of her position as my niece. I may disown her and name you as my niece instead. We’ll see how you do at this evening’s function. I don’t expect perfection, since you have never attended one; but I do expect you to follow my lead and to be charming and reserved.”

She stresses the word ‘reserved’ almost with a growl. She makes me feel like a fawn being eyed by a cougar, even the General winces.

“Yes, Aunt Julie.”

As we are going through these rituals, someone knocks at the door which is eventually answered by a hired servant who admits an Army Sergeant. The Sergeant informs the General that the car is outside and he will wait there with it.

He takes an eyeful of me as he leaves and Aunt Julie turns to give me a reproachful stare.

“Aunt Julie, I just stood here quietly. I didn’t do anything to attract his attention.”

“Sometimes just standing quietly causes attention, Lucy. Keep in mind what I said earlier about date rape drugs.”

I have a lot to learn. Somehow it was much easier when I was younger. We go out to the car and once again I am ogled by the sergeant.

In my most military feminine voice, “Eyes front, Sergeant. Haven’t you ever seen a Major before?”

“No, Ma’am, I mean, yes, Ma’am, I mean…. Sorry, Ma’am.”

He drops his gaze about four octaves and we finish entering the car before he starts around to the driver’s side.

“Very well done, Lucy,” Aunt Julie tells me.

At the embassy I find things to be interesting to say the least. I have picked up on all sorts of good Intel. It’s surprising how people will talk about so many things when they don’t know you speak their language and they think you are simply a pretty woman wandering around the room.

Whenever the General walks by, they shut up until he’s past, but they ignore me. I continue to wander around the room collecting data while sipping the cola I ordered at the bar. Every so often I check in with Aunt Julie who introduces me to whomever she may be speaking with at the time. They, of course, are ‘enchanted’ or ‘delighted’ to meet me. A few grasp my hand, then kiss it, always in the case of the Frenchmen, sometimes others, while they are ogling other areas of my anatomy.

I continue to wander the room listening here and there while noticing one young man seems to be following me around the room. I vividly recall Aunt Julie’s warnings about date rape and prepare to refuse anything he might offer me. I continue around the room and he continues to follow until I can’t stand it anymore.

“Are you following me?”

“Ahh, you are American?!”

“Yes, I am the niece of the General over there.”

“I see. And they allow their young women to just walk the room?”

“Why not?”

“There are some who would try to take advantage of this.”

“Well, if they try to take too much advantage, I suppose I could scream, and if that didn’t work then I could break their arm for a start.”

“You could…? Oh. It is a joke.” His first reaction is one of stunned inconceivability which is followed quickly by a smile and an amused expression.

“Not at all. I am a Taekwondo third degree black belt and have defended myself upon several occasions.” I somehow neglect to tell him that I was a male at the time.

“American women are not defenseless?” he asked, with some surprise and disbelief showing both on his face and in his voice.

“Hardly. Many of us study martial arts,” thinking back to one of my classes which was comprised mostly of women. “In fact, many of us are quite proficient in many forms of combat. We simply allow our men to fight the wars since they seem to need to do that sort of thing. It helps keep them calm.”

The look on his face is absolutely priceless. “I see. Oh, they need me over there. Thank you for interesting conversation.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply in what I believe is his native tongue, “It was nice meeting you.”

He gives me a little bow as his face turns ashen then he hurries off to a group of people who could be the same nationality. I hope I haven’t committed some faux pas. I quickly search for Aunt Julie and quietly rush over to her.

As she wraps up her conversation, I ask, “Aunt Julie, could I have a few minutes of your time? I need to learn something.”

She looks at me as though curious and we depart the room going to the ladies’ room.

“All right, Lucy. What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” She must still be confusing me with her niece.

After checking to be certain we are alone I begin to explain what has happened.

She thinks about it and says I should probably tone down my responses a little but that this one time was probably not terribly inauspicious. She tells me to notify Phillip of the encounter while she does a little judicious checking. “Also tell him I will let him know more after I check around.”

“Yes, Aunt Julie.”

“Lucy.”

“Yes?”

“Relax, you’re a big girl now. Enjoy it.”

I smile, “I’ll try, Aunt Julie.”

We go back to the ball room and mingle some more as I begin my search for Uncle Phillip. I eventually locate the General and wait until he finishes his conversation. “Uncle Phillip, may I speak with you? Aunt Julie says it’s important.”

He nods his head and we are off to a more secluded area where we can talk privately. I relate my encounter to him and what was said. Then I tell him what Aunt Julie said. More quietly, I let him know I have picked up a lot of good intel since, as a female, I am mostly ignored, and I understand most of the languages spoken here.

He tells me, “Good, we will discuss this further after we return home.” Suddenly more loudly, “Well, young lady, I’m glad you are enjoying yourself. We will probably leave in about an hour. Would you let Julie know?”

“Certainly, Uncle Phillip.” I turn and see several people standing behind me.

One of them indicates me and asks, “And General, who is this delightful creature?”

“This is my niece, Lucy. She is in Saigon for a few days visiting. She is returning to the States from a tour in Thailand.”

Now I think this is another Frenchman. I don’t remember the French having an Embassy in Saigon any longer, but who knows.

He takes my hand, bows, and kisses it.

Oh, he’s French all right. Another kiss of my hand, almost devouring it. They begin to speak to each other in French saying things no one should hear about potential plans for a young succulent dish.

“I need to get back to the party, Uncle Phillip. I find it exciting.” I turn to the French and give a slight curtsey as I say, “Excusez-moi, je trouve le divertissement fasciner ici, et je ne veux manquer rien,” then I swept past them as their mouths drop open and they watch me return to the ballroom where I begin to look for Aunt Julie.

“My niece speaks fourteen languages, fairly fluently,” Uncle Phillip said. “I hope you weren’t saying anything at which she might take offense. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath, nor that of her Aunt.” He follows me out into the large room leaving the French standing there gaping at us as we walk away.

---

To Be Continued….       © 2008, 2009 by T D Aldoennetti & Rènae Dùmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder) or her assigned representative. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. An Aldoennetti Original.