What might happen if a transvestite is abducted by aliens?

(This is the first story I wrote)

Darlene locked the door and walked out to her car. She savored every sensation: the swirl of her skirt, the unique sound of her high heels on the pavement, the chill of the night air around her legs. She scanned the neighborhood as she walked, alert for anyone who might recognize her. Only one man in the distance walking a dog could be seen. Satisfied, Darlene entered her car, started the engine, and drove off. This was only the fourth time Darlene had ever left her house.

It was only two months ago that Frank, who had been secretly dressing in women's clothing for years, decided to brave the out-of-doors. He was quite nervous as he walked outside that first night, wondering if somebody would recognize him or if some stranger would penetrate his masquerade. After driving around for about half an hour, Frank realized that most people just could not be bothered. They never made more than a passing glance, being absorbed with their own concerns. Frank returned from that first adventure with a new confidence and excitement. It was shortly after this that he adopted a feminine name for his alter ego.

For tonight's adventure, Darlene was going to attempt something which Frank had done many times without thinking: she would mail a letter at a post office. She had selected a post office at a small town a short distance from her own. She was reasonably sure that she would be afforded some solitude, but secretly hoped that she would be observed distantly. Since this would involve getting out of the car and walking a short distance, she was somewhat apprehensive and excited.

The parking lot was empty as Darlene drove up to the post office. She got out of the car and walked to the mail box. As she walked, she noticed her reflection in the window. Definitely a lady, she thought to herself. She took the letter out of her purse and quickly shoved it into the slot. So far, so good. She returned to the car. Then she pulled down the vanity mirror to touch up her lipstick. In truth, her lipstick really didn't need a touch-up. It just felt good to do it. Satisfied with the results, Darlene drove off.

She really did not have any concrete plans for the rest of the night, so she just started driving to wherever the car would take her. She soon found herself on a stretch of familiar but deserted road far from any town. The stars shone brightly on that moonless night, all the more brilliant for the absence of any artificial light. Darlene decided to pull off the road and just look at the stars for a while before heading home.

She stepped outside the car and just gazed at the heavens, trying to imagine the staggering distances between the stars. How many years, she wondered, did it take the light of these stars to reach her. She felt somewhat insignificant when considering time of such magnitude.

That's when she saw it. At first, it seemed like another star, but it was moving. An airplane, she thought. But the light was steady, not flashing like an aircraft's navigation light.

As she watched, the light seemed to grow larger. She was soon able to discern a definite sphere with not one, but many lights. It appeared to grow in size. Darlene realized that the sphere was approaching her. Whether it was from fear or curiosity, or both, Darlene found that she was rooted to the spot, unable to move. The sphere with its many lights now loomed over her in the sky.

At this point, Darlene noticed that she was surrounded by a strange luminescence which seemed to be emanating from her. She experienced a momentary disorientation as the image of a room seemed to overlap that of the countryside. Then, the countryside faded from existence. Darlene found herself in a small room of what she could only believe was some sort of UFO.

The room was carpeted in a soft tan. Its walls were beige, and it was illuminated by a soft, indirect light. Despite the room's restful decor, Darlene was unable to relax. She was remembering all the reports she had read about alien abductions. She had always paid such accounts the same credence as Elvis sightings or the Loch Ness Monster. She was now confronted with a very real situation, and began to panic.

A door opened at one end of the room, and a diminutive being entered. It was only about five feet tall. Darlene noticed several things about this creature. It did not resemble any of the popular descriptions of alien abductors. If anything, it appeared quite human. Its eyes were somewhat larger, and its ears were not quite as large as a human's would be, but its facial structure as well as its hands were remarkably human. Most curious was the being's skin, which was an olive-tan shade. It was this fact which produced a bit of nervous laughter in Darlene...a little green man!

"I apologize for the manner in which you were brought aboard," it said in perfect but subtly accented English. "You will not be harmed in any way. If your being here is too stressful for you, we can return you."

"You aren't going to, well, probe me, are you?" asked Darlene rather nervously.

"Of course not," the being replied, "we have non-invasive techniques for performing any physical examination we may require. That is not why we brought you here."

"My name is Kris," the being continued. "What is yours?"

"Fra.., err, Darlene," she answered, "my name is Darlene."

"Very well, Darlene. The temperature aboard our craft is somewhat warmer than humans are accustomed to. You might feel more comfortable if you removed your sweater."

Darlene hesitated. She had worn the sweater to cover the dark hair on her forearms as much as to protect herself from the night's chill. Still, she thought, this IS an alien. She removed the sweater to reveal the teal shell which matched her skirt.

"Please sit," said Kris, motioning to chairs. Darlene sat down and held her knees as closely together as her anatomy would allow. Kris sat in the chair opposite her.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked Darlene.

"We need some information and would simply like to ask you a few questions. We hope you can help us."

"Information from me?" she replied incredulously, "what could I possibly know that you do not?"

"We have observed your people for many years now, and have gathered quite a bit of information, but there are still many gaps. For instance, we have noticed that you are wearing the garments and decorations normally worn by a female seeking to attract a mate, but our instruments indicate that you are a male. We have observed this behavior in other humans, but are unable to explain why they do so. Perhaps you can explain."

Well, Darlene said to herself, it looks like I can't even pass in a group of aliens. "I’m a transvestite," she said. Ironically, this was the first time she had spoken these words aloud to anybody but herself. "I am a man, but I enjoy dressing up like a woman."

"Are you looking for a male to mate with?" asked Kris.

"Heavens, No!" she exclaimed, "I just enjoy the way these clothes feel on me. I like the way I look in them. I like the way I feel when I'm dressed."

"How do you feel?" Kris asked.

"Excited. Energized. Sexy. Very...feminine."

"Why do you enjoy feeling feminine?"

"I don't really know. I have always been curious about female clothes since I was small. I was always trying on my sister's things when nobody was looking. It just felt good."

"I think I understand," said Kris, "dressing as a member of the opposite sex provides you with pleasure."

"Yes, exactly," said Darlene.

"Do you think of yourself as a female when you are dressed in this manner?"

"Well ... yes, I suppose I do. I mean, I know that I'm still a guy. I just feel a bit ... girlish."

"Thank you, Darlene," said Kris, "this is a most interesting piece of information. Our understanding of your kind is still incomplete, but you have provided us with another fascinating insight."

"Excuse me, Kris," said Darlene, "but would you mind if I asked you a question?"

"Not at all," Kris said, "curiosity is a sign of maturity in a species. It makes us happy to see your people develop and grow."

"Well, it's kind of personal. Are you male or female?"

"For my kind," Kris replied, "that question has no meaning. We are sexual hermaphrodites. We possess both male and female reproductive organs."

"Oh. Do you, uh, fertilize yourselves?"

"No. Reproduction requires an exchange of genetic material, which we accomplish via sexual intercourse."

"Wow! You have sex?"

"Yes. As with your kind, we derive much pleasure from this activity. We engage frequently and with much enthusiasm. It is the source of much of my people's art, music, and literature. We consider it to be a form of art unto itself."

"Oh. Do you get pregnant? I hope this doesn't offend you."

"No offense taken, Darlene. Yes, we do bear our young live as does your species. Our young are quite helpless and require much care until they mature. We nurture them, train them, and guide their development."

Darlene's initial panic had subsided in the company of this very friendly alien. She now felt a sort of friendship for him. The description of childbearing and care now fostered a sense of kinship. "We seem to have much in common, Kris," she said.

"Yes, and many differences, which is why we find your people so puzzling. We hope that by studying your kind, we might gain some insight as to our own nature. Of course, we still have much to learn."

"And now, Darlene," Kris continued, "we shall return you to where you were found. It is our custom to give some gift to those humans who help us as you have. Normally, we use our healing arts to aid our friends with some malady. Our instruments, however, indicate that you are in very good health. Perhaps you could suggest something?"

Darlene replied, "You have already given me a marvelous gift. I now know that there are other, friendly people in the universe and I have learned something about them. I will cherish this memory."

"We are sorry," said Kris, "but we cannot allow you to remember this encounter. Many of your people are still very primitive and violent. Knowledge of our presence might provoke them to take some foolish action, and we would be regrettably forced to defend ourselves."

"You mean my memory will be erased?" she asked.

"No," Kris answered, "to do so would be harmful to you. We will use suggestion to give this experience a dreamlike quality. You will remember it, but only as you would recall a dream."

"Oh. I see." There was genuine regret in Darlene's voice, mixed with pain. "I do understand. My species is still very violent as I well know."

"You have been harmed by one of your kind?" asked Kris.

"No. Not exactly. You see, the way I dress, like a woman, makes a lot of people nervous and angry. They call us some cruel names and make life miserable for us. Some even beat crossdressers like me."

"There is much pain in your words, Darlene."

"Yes. My dressing makes me happy, but it also causes me a lot of problems. When I go to the store to buy some makeup or a dress, I can feel the people staring at me and laughing behind my back. I could even lose my job if my bosses ever found out, and there would be nothing I could do about it. I just wish I could go into a store and try on something pretty without fearing for my job, or for that matter my life."

Kris seemed to contemplate for a few seconds, and then spoke. "It may be within our power to ease your emotional pain, Darlene. As I said, we are quite skilled in the healing arts."

"If your cure is to make me stop being a crossdresser," Darlene replied, "then don't bother. I don't want to change."

"We will not stop you from dressing as a female, Darlene. We will just remove the complications."

Darlene opened her mouth to speak, but never completed that action. She was suddenly overcome by a profound feeling of euphoria. She felt such intense joy that nothing else seemed to matter. She was vaguely aware of several other beings like Kris entering the room. Gradually, the euphoria gave way to oblivion.
* * * * *

As Darlene pulled into the driveway she glanced at the dashboard clock. It was almost ten! She had spent over two hours driving. Where did the time go? Oh, well. She got out of the car and walked to her front door, once again savoring the wonderful feelings of femininity. She entered her home, pausing to remove her sweater and carefully hang it in the closet.

The unmistakable feeling of bladder pressure let her know that it was time to answer nature's call. She stood in front of the toilet, lifted her skirt, and pulled down her panties to grab...

NOTHING!

A sudden jolt of adrenaline abruptly brought all of Darlene's senses into sharp focus. She stared at her crotch expecting to find Frank's familiar genitals, but they were gone. In their place was an opening which was at the same time strange and familiar. She was too nervous to touch it.

Instinctively she reached for her wig and tugged, only to be met with pain. Checking closely in the mirror revealed that her perfectly coiffed auburn wig which she had purchased for $89 was now her own living hair, rooted firmly to her scalp.

A cold sweat broke out on Darlene as she pulled off her shell. Fearfully, she unhooked her bra. The water-filled baggies she had placed in them earlier were gone, replaced by a pair of flawless and very womanly breasts, each crowned by a perfect nipple.

All thoughts of carefully undressing had fled as Darlene removed all of her clothing in a panic. She was now completely naked and staring at herself in the mirror. The familiar shape of Frank's body was gone. Her upper torso, now sporting breasts, tapered to a slim waist which flared into wide, sensuous hips. Her body hair was completely gone, save for a small tuft surrounding what she now realized was her vagina. The body she beheld was a woman's. Not a goddess, to be sure, but definitely a lady.

It was ironic. How many times had Frank fantasized some Deus Ex Machina, some magic spell which would transform him into a female? Now as Darlene was confronted with just that transformation in reality, the only emotion she could feel was not happiness or pleasure, but horror.

"MY GOD!" she said, "How am I going to explain this to my wife!"

 © 1997 Valentina Michelle Smith