Trick of the Mind - 15 & 16 by Maeryn Lamonte Melanie Ezell's big closet ultimate writer's challenge — Written From The Heart Thanks to Wren Erendae Phoenix for editing/proofing. “As things go it’s not that far from what you’ve been dealing with in any case. You’ve had to live this long with a break between the way you want the world to be — a world where men don’t have to compete with each other all the time but can look attractive and take a more passive role — and the world as you see it. Now the break is between how you actually dress and how you see it. In each case, your release from the stress has been to dress up in women’s clothes from time to time. There is no reason why you shouldn’t continue in the same vein.” Another dead end. We thanked the professor for his time and Jen held onto my arm to lead me out of the psychology department.

-oOo-

We walked in silence back to our halls, and each of us kept our own council as we headed home. Jen invited me in for a coffee, but at that moment all I wanted was to be on my own. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out an M&S carrier bag.

“Supplies,” she told me. “I wouldn’t open it till you’re in your room.”

I made my way back wishing I could enjoy the look and feel of what I was wearing, but hampered by my knowledge that it was a lie.

Back in my room I looked in the bag. As Jen had promised, it contained a few packets of tights and some frilly knickers. I put them in a drawer in my dresser, locked my room door and stripped myself naked.

I looked at myself in the mirror thinking that at least this way there was no break in reality, and spent the next few hours working through some problems in semiconductor theory. A towel on the chair protected me from the cold vinyl and after a few minutes it didn’t even feel that strange. I wasn’t likely to walk out of my room in my birthday suit, so overall this was something of a solution.

After a while I pulled on my dressing gown and slippers and headed out to make some dinner. The dressing gown was softer and pinker than it should have been, but otherwise not too different from reality, and the bunny rabbit slippers were ignorable.

I went to bed early, and for the first time tried sleeping in the buff. It felt odd, but definitely better than wearing pyjamas that turned into something silky and sexy as soon as I turned my back. It seemed that the prof had been some use after all.

Over the next few weeks I found a new definition of normalcy. Jen and I met up most days and, although I could see it bothered her, we didn’t talk about my continuing problem. For the most part sleeping with no clothes on gave me a regular break from my lying mind, and wearing knickers and tights under my normal clothes helped me to deal better with the array of pretty skirts and dresses I found myself wearing during the day. It was only very gradually that the tension began to build again, so much so that Jen noticed and reacted to it before I did.

It was reaching that time of the year when students were getting stressed out and needed to blow off a bit of steam all over the place, and this gave my girlfriend enough of an idea to turn into a plan. She discussed it in secret with some of her friends in her hall, and sprung it on me as we were heading home at the end of a long week.

“Walk me back to my place tonight Richard, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

She wouldn’t say any more so, choosing to trust her — because what is a relationship without trust — I followed her back to her room.

Once there we sat around drinking coffee for about half an hour. I had been wearing a gingham dress with lacy sleeves and hemline all day, and wanted to get home so I could strip naked for a while. I was about ready to make a move when a half dozen young girls walked up the stairs with mischievous looks on their faces.

“So this is our project for the evening hey Jen?” the first said walking up to me and turning my face back and forth. “Hmm not bad, I think we should be able to do something pretty spectacular.”

A second one bent down next to my ear. “Good of you to volunteer, shows a lot more guts than some of the other guys around here.”

I looked up at Jen who was trying to hide a minxish grin. Whatever she had planned, I decided to go along with it. As I say what’s a relationship without trust? Besides I wasn’t going to be able to back out of this with any grace.

“I’m all yours ladies, what do you want me to do?”

There was a burst of giggling, then the one who had spoken to me first, evidently the leader, bent over me and said, “For now just sit back and enjoy.”

Tape measures were produced and wrapped around my chest, waist and hips; my shoes were removed and my feet measured; hands were run through my hair and one of the girls spent a while staring into my face, comparing several swatches of colour against my cheeks. Eventually I was handed a fluffy white dressing gown and towel and ushered up to a bathroom where a hot bath filled with bubbles lay ready. There was a distinctly floral scent rising up with the steam and I was told to step in and soak for a while.

I did as I was told. The water was scalding hot, but I managed to grit my teeth and settle into it slowly. Ten minutes later Jen came in and started pouring hot water over my head using a plastic cup. She then started massaging shampoo and conditioner into my head and scalp. It felt fantastic and smelt better.

“What’s this about Jen? What’re you up to?”

“Do you trust me?”

I nodded sleepily.

“Then just lay back and enjoy.”

I did just that. Once my hair had been washed through three times, Jen held out the towel and told me to step out of the bath. I did as I was told and she towelled me dry, rubbing my skin and making approving noises about how smooth it was. She then offered me a razor and some foam and told me to shave my face as close as I could.

When I was done, she rubbed her gentle hands all over it and murmured her approval around a long and luxuriant kiss. She then took a second towel and rubbed my hair until it was only damp. The smell from the bath remained on my skin and in my hair.

“Put on the dressing gown and come downstairs to my room.” She told me and once more I followed obediently. It felt good not having to make any decision. The bathrobe was soft and girly even though it didn’t have any decoration on it. It didn’t change when I put it on.

“OK girls, he’s all yours,” Jen announced as we entered her room. There was a chair in the empty space next to the bed and it was surrounded by the little army of helpers that Jen had drafted into her campaign.

Over the next half hour I was given a manicure, a pedicure, a facial and a professional styling job on my hair. My eyebrows were plucked, though not too much by Jen’s instruction and my newly buffed nails were polished. When the goo was removed from my face, my skin felt as soft as Jen’s, not that I was given much of a chance to explore as a brush laden with foundation was brought in contact with my skin, followed by a combination of eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and blush. Part way through the makeover, the rollers came out of my hair and I found it to be alive and bouncy with curls I’d never had before.

By the time they were done there was a selection of clothing on the bed. Before they let me get up though, there was one more surprise to add. One of the girls held up something that looked a bit like a chicken fillet in one hand and was painting one side of it. My heretofore hairdresser grabbed hold of the lapels of my dressing gown and pulled them apart to reveal my hairless chest and the cold, damp lump of pseudo-flesh was placed over my right nipple.

“What are you doing?” I asked as.

Pressure was being applied so I couldn’t see.

“Just try and relax,” I was told. “You want to look your best for your night out.”

There was a chorus of giggles and a second chicken fillet was pressed onto my left nipple.

The pressure was maintained for a half a minute then before I could see what had been done to me, more foundation was being brushed onto my chest.

The girls stood back and admired their handiwork.

“Mm, I think I’m jealous,” said one and the others fell about giggling.

Somewhat stunned, I looked down at my chest only to find a pair of perfectly formed breasts, complete with areolae. The foundation helped to blend the colour of the false tissue into that of my chest. If I hadn’t known otherwise, I’d have been convinced I was born with these.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“I think he likes them,” one of the girls said and again there was a chorus of giggles.

The girls backed out of the room leaving Jen and me alone. I walked to the mirror over her sink and slid the bathrobe off my shoulders.

“Hello Rachael,” Jen said from beside me, and there was no doubt that the person staring back in the mirror was a girl. The makeup was exquisite, my hair bouncy, shiny and vibrant, and the two mounds on my chest perfectly believable.

We stood there a while then Jen led me back to the bed and handed me a pair of lacy knickers.

I slid them on, but there was a bulge that ruined the effect.

Jen handed me a matching lacy bra and, reaching into my panties, said, “Let me sort this out.”

As before, I was so aroused that it didn’t take more than a couple of gentle caresses before I let out a shuddering sigh and erupted into the cloth she held ready for me.

With my little friend spent, cleaned up and tucked away, Jen proceeded to help me with the rest of the gear on the bed. The bra was strapless and underwired, and I felt a sense of wonder as my new breasts filled it. A pair of genuine silk stockings were rolled up my legs and the straps from the suspender belt fed through my knickers and clipped into place.

Finally Jen helped me step into an exquisite silky black dress with a single shoulder strap topped by corsage on the right hand side. With zips and fasteners done up it fir like a glove, and I realised what all the measuring had been about.

“Sit down Rachael,” Jen told me and I felt a thrill pass through me at her use of the name. I scooped the dress under me and perched on the bed while Jen fed my stockinged feet into a pair of black, strappy sandals with three inch heels.

“You may need to practice a bit to get used to the heels,” Jen told me. “Remember short step and swing your hips a bit, you’re a girl now.”

I walked back and forth for a bit with Jen nodding encouragement, and finally she asked me to sit down again.

A short gold chain was place around my neck and a matching bracelet on my right hand. I felt the smell of alcohol and a cold sensation on my right earlobe. A second later there was a sting and she was wiping my ear again.

“Ow! What did you do?”

“Just a little pinprick,” she said now rubbing my left earlobe. “Hold still, you’ll want them to match.”
There was a second sting and she was wiping away a slight trickle of blood. She went on to swab a pair of dangly gold earrings before pushing them through the holes and fitting the clasps in the back. Finally she dabbed some perfume on my neck, wrists and chest, handed me a purse and a lacy white shawl and told me to wait downstairs.

I looked in the mirror at the earrings now obviously stuck through my ears and said, “You could have asked.”

“I don’t have any clip-ons,” she replied, “and you would have looked wrong without any at all. If you don’t like, the holes will heal up in a couple of days.”

There was nobody on the landing when I arrived so I perched on a chair clutching my purse and waited. I looked down at my bust — there wasn’t a lot of cleavage with this dress — and my hair cascaded down the sides of my head in rich curls, I had never felt this feminine, even when Alice did me up in the coral dress.

I was completely lost in thought when there was a quiet cough. I looked up startled to see one of the lads from the hall next to ours looking at me with a strangely intent expression.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking for Becky Peter’s room.”

Becky had the room opposite Jenny’s. I pointed and put on my softest voice. “That one I think.”

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he told me. “I’m sure I would have noticed.”

“Oh no,” I said dropping my eyes, I hoped demurely. “I’m just visiting. I’m a friend of Jenny’s.”

“Who I’m sure has a name.” He was coming on to me.

“As well as a significant other,” I told him with an apologetic smile. “The name’s Rachael.”

“Of course you do Rachael. You’re too pretty not to have.” He walked past and up the stairs. “It was nice meeting you Rachael.”

He knocked on the door and disappeared inside leaving me with my heart pounding in my chest.

There was a honk from outside and one of the girls from earlier stepped out of her room.

“Taxis are here girls,” she yelled and then came over to where I was sitting.

“Well, look at you, I do believe you’re going to outdo the rest of us tonight.”

The others came out and made similar complements. Jenny was the last looking stunning in the white dress I’d bought her at Easter.

“Ladies,” she announced, “I’d like to introduce you to my friend Rachael, she’s joining us tonight if that’s OK.”

I was ready to protest, but they all nodded and made noises of agreement so before I could say a thing they had my by the wrists and pulled me down the stairs towards the waiting taxis.

-oOo-

“Don’t struggle sweetie,” one of them whispered in my ear. “You’ll get your clothes back at the end of the evening if you play along.”

So I did. Initially I was terrified expecting the next person I saw to denounce me for the fraud I was, but the taxi driver gave me the same once over that he gave to the other girls, so I had to accept that I didn’t look that much like a guy and soon settled into the swing of things.

We started off at a restaurant where I was careful to order small dishes of low fat food the same as the rest of the girls. Jen mouthed small bites at me, and I tried to copy the others cutting the food up small and eating it slowly. I was surprised to find how much more I enjoyed everything as I took time to savour the textures and tastes.

At first I tried to stay quiet and let the others chat, but they were intent on treating me no different from any of the other girls at the table, and I was drawn into the conversations over and over again until I gave up and participated more willingly.

We had a couple of bottles of wine between the eight of us, which was enough to make us all merry without being out of control, then we headed off to a nightclub where I had the odd experience of being waved in ahead of the line, being part of a group of attractive girls. The few times I'd been out to a nightclub in the past, I'd had to queue for ages before being allowed to go in.

We spent the next few hours on the dance floor in a huddle around our handbags and weaving to the music.

A couple of times guys came up and asked if we wanted to dance, and the girls started to peel off as they found young men who suited their tastes. Jen stayed with me and helped to fend off advances until the guys got the message and left us alone.

I have never felt such a mixture of fear and exhilaration in my life, and was still buzzing when the witching hour came and went and we headed out to get a taxi ahead of the crowd.

It was nearly one o’clock when we arrived back on campus and Jen pulled me towards her hall.

“It’s a bit late isn’t it Jen? Won’t you get in trouble if you take a guy back to your room at this time?”

“I already told the warden that I’d invited my friend Rachael to stay over tonight, so you’re OK.”

“I’m not sure this is such a great idea.” I was worried that Jen had had a little too much to drink.

“Well you’re welcome to go back to your place if you like, but I think your clothes are in Helen’s room and Riana has the solvent to get those things off your chest so, on the whole I think you’ll be better off staying with me.”

She was right, and I allowed myself to be led back to her room.

We chatted as we helped each other clean off the war paint and moisturise the skin underneath. Jen took her jewellery back and checked my ears.

“They’ll heal if you want, but it’ll just be more painful poking through the scar tissue next time.”

“Next time?” I squeaked.

“Sure. Tonight was an experiment to see if you could pull it off. If it hadn’t worked you could have simply told everyone that you got hijacked by my friends and spend several day s in a huff with me until we made it up with some spectacular grovelling on my part.

“As it turns out this evening was an unmitigated success. I’m actually kind of jealous of all the attention you got over me, and you’re going to have to work hard tonight to make up for it.”

“So, what's this about a next time?”

“Well, the way I see it is you have a need to see yourself dressed in the clothes you're actually wearing from time to time, and since you make such a spectacularly believable young woman, I don't see why Racael can't come to stay more often.”

In the end I gave in and let her put in a couple of sleeper studs, then we finished undressing and hung up the clothes.

“Here, I’ll let you wear these for real tonight.”

She passed me a light pink satin chemise night dress and matching panties. I slipped them on and found myself standing to attention again, all the more aroused because of the two mounds that filled out the front of the nightclothes.

“I think we’ll have to do something about that as well tonight,” she said pulling a small foil packet out of her handbag.

“Jen no,” I said. “I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink tonight, but I don’t want to even risk taking advantage of you.”

“And what if I want to be taken advantage of?”

“Then you can humour me and tell me in the morning when I know you mean it. If Rachael’s going to make another appearance in the near future there will be other opportunities.”

She dropped the packet back in her purse, just the tiniest bit miffed. “OK, your loss big boy.”

I began to wonder if she had deliberately drunk a bit too much to give herself the courage to do this, but I cared too much for her to take even the slightest chance here. She seemed a little frustrated and confused as well.

I took her hair brush and started brushing her hair the way I had done for Alice on some occasions. I remembered it had a soothing effect when she was upset, and after a while I found out the effect was general.

Jen turned to me and lent her head onto my shoulder.

“You are too good to me,” she said.

“No more so than you are to me.”

“What do you mean? I get my friends to kidnap you and dress you up like a fashion model and then I drag you out into the middle of town and try to get you drunk and seduce you. Not only do you gallantly refuse my advances, but you brush my hair when I get upset with you.”

I felt a wet patch on my chest. She was really crying.

“Well I guess we’re about to find out if these boobs are waterproof,” I told her and she laughed.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“Probably because I know you so well. You know I love you Jen?”

In response she reached up and kissed me long and soft.

“Wow,” she said when we were done. “My first lesbian kiss. I might be a convert.”

“If you do convert, make sure you at least stay bisexual. Richard would miss you too much.”

“You need to brush your teeth,” Jen told me and dug out a spare, unused toothbrush for me.

We scrubbed away for a few minutes and, minty fresh, headed for her bed.

“I could sleep on the floor if you like.”

“I think after your little speech a few minutes ago, I can trust you to share the bed, besides which I don’t want you getting my nightie all dirty.”

“Well if you’re worried about that I may need to do something about my little friend below. I’m not sure he’s going to last the night.

“Allow me,” she said and grabbed a handful of tissues form the desk. For the second time that evening she brought me to swift and total climax.

“I hope you’re going to be able to last a bit longer when we do it for real.”

“I think that’ll depend on how much stimulus I get. Listen I think it’s my turn to do for you what you’ve done for me twice this evening so far.”

And with that I started to explore her body. I’d never done anything like this before, but I’d read some of my little sister’s magazines and had enough common sense to be able to figure out the rest. Half way through, Jen had to fetch some more tissues as I became aroused again, but before long we were both satisfied and slipped into a deep and contented sleep.

-oOo-

I spent the following morning as Rachael when neither Helen nor Riana turned up until gone lunchtime. Then since I was doing such a good job that no-one else in the hall suspected I was anything other than the young woman I appeared to be, I decided to stay en femme until the evening.

I borrowed one of Jen’s dresses for the day and enjoyed a full day wearing the clothes I had put on.
Riana and Helen both gave up the stuff I needed to return to manhood and gave me approving nods for being prepared to stay in character into extra time.

I used one of the showers in Jen’s hall to wash out the curls in my hair and the last traces of the feminine smell that the bath oils and perfume had left there. I felt a sense of loss in doing so; even though I didn’t want to be a girl, I really did enjoy being girly. The solvent took a while to work, but eventually the breast forms came off. By the time I was dried off and back in my jeans and tee-shirt, my imagination couldn’t do any better than put me back in the black dress from the previous night. I gave Jen back the clothes I had borrowed for the day along with the breast forms and solvent for safe keeping.

“Come to mine for lunch tomorrow?” I asked.

“You betcha.”

We kissed and I headed off back to my room.

Dave was waiting when I arrived.

“Hey dude, I was looking for you last night. Where’d you get to?”

“I went into town with Jen and some of her friends.”

“Oh at the Shindig. Jake said he thought he saw Jen there, but didn’t mention you.”

I cursed myself. Come on think.

“Yeah by the time we got there, they were letting the girls in but the guys had to queue. I told Jen to go in with her friends and joined the wait. Took so long I gave up.”

“So where were you?”

“I don’t know. Wandered around a bit, drank a bit too much feeling sorry for myself. Woke up on a park bench.”

“You don’t look like you spent the night on a park bench.”

“No Jen was feeling guilty about leaving me outside, made me promise to come round to hers this morning. She fixed me breakfast while I took shower and shaved then we spent the day together.”

I willed him to stop asking awkward questions, and it seemed I’d said enough to satisfy him.

“I’ve got a maths assignment that’s causing me some grief. I wondered if you take a look at it with me.”

“Sure,” I agreed, “just let me dump my stuff.”

I went into my room and texted Jen a quick synopsis of my little not-so-fairy-story. By the time I came back out Dave had a couple of mugs of tea and a plate of choc chip cookies ready. One thing I’ll say for him, he makes it worthwhile helping him with the work.

The evening went quickly. It felt good to be doing something normal, even if the tight skirt on the black dress made moving difficult. By opening time, Dave had grasped what was needed and finished his assignment. He offered to buy me a drink down at the bar, but I cried off saying I’d had too much the previous night. He accepted that and headed off on his own while I went into my room to catch up on the work I would have started Friday night had I not been sidetracked.

That night I slept in the nude again and dreamt of Jen’s soft skin against mine.

-oOo-