A Different Kind of Prom

By Czolgolz

[email protected]

I wrote this in 2001.

When we were both five years old I told Brenda Anders that I loved her. She told me that she loved me too. I told her that she was pretty. She replied that I was pretty as well. I told her that I wanted to marry her. "I'm sorry," she replied, with seriousness that now seems silly in a kindergartner. "I don't want to marry a man."

"Then I'll grow up to be a woman."

"You can't do that, goofy."

"You watch. I'll grow up to be a woman. Then we can get married."

That, of course, was almost thirteen years ago, and my desire to marry Brenda hadn't decreased at all with time. She certainly was something, with her silky, raven hair, her long, slender limbs, and her delicate, flower-like face. What man wouldn't be attracted to her?

When I asked her to marry me in kindergarten, it had been because she was my best friend. We were inseparable as children. Brenda and Robert, two peas in a pod. Even when her parent's business had taken off and she moved to the wealthier part of town, we had still remained close. All throughout junior high we were friends. Even when she began to blossom into a beautiful woman and I stayed a gangly, freckled twerp, she still stood by me.

In high school, all that changed. Not that she started ignoring me, or we started moving in different directions. No, what happened was Brenda started dating Andy Unger. And Andy made it clear there was no longer room in her life for me.

I remember that day well. We were both fifteen at the time. I had got my mother to drive me over to Brenda's house so we could watch Seinfeld, just like we did every Thursday. Brenda's parents would drive me home afterwards. It was a tradition that had lasted nearly as long as the show.

When I arrived at her house, I knew something was wrong. Usually Brenda would come out of the front door and meet me on the driveway. That day, she wasn't there. Still, she hadn't canceled, so I told my mom to drop me off and that I'd see her later. Little did I know.

When I rang to doorbell, I was surprised to see that Brenda had company. A large, thick-necked boy wearing her high school's jacket was camped out on the living room sofa, where I had usually sat. I was a little offended that she'd invite someone else over on our traditional night together, but I knew I had nothing to complain about. She wasn't my girlfriend, and I guess a guy like me was lucky she even had time for me at all.

Brenda seemed a little nervous at my arrival. "Oh, Rob. Um, I'd like you to meet Andy." I extended my hand to the big jock, but he simply grunted, not even looking in my direction.

"Well, if you'll excuse me for a second " said Brenda, and disappeared into the kitchen. I took up a spot in the armchair, trying to notice that instead of Seinfeld, we were apparently going to watch basketball. Which was funny because, like me, Brenda had very little interest in professional sports.

As soon as Brenda was out of earshot, Andy turned and glowered at me. "Get out," he simply stated.

"What?" I stammered, hoping he was joking.

"I said leave. We don't want you here."

"What right do you have..."

He stood up and towered over me. Waving a fist under my nose, he continued. "Brenda's mine, get it? She ain't yours. Now hit the road."

"Hey, Brenda's my friend, you can't tell me..."

"The hell I can't. I know where you go to school. I catch you around her again..." he violently poked me in the ribs.

I felt utterly helpless. Why was Brenda with this caveman? And yet I knew I was sunk. There was no way I could stand up to this monster. I could run crying to Brenda, I supposed, but what then? He was her boyfriend, and I was obviously someone who she no longer had room for in her life.

Andy backed away just as Brenda returned with some snacks. "Um," I began awkwardly, "I need to leave."

"But you just got here!" protested Brenda. But the relief in her voice was hard to mistake.

"I just remembered something I have to do." I headed for the door.

I was surprised when Andy said "I'll walk you out," in a falsely amiable voice. As soon as the front door closed behind us, Andy looked to make sure no one was watching and threw me roughly onto the driveway. Scraped and bruised, I hobbled to my feet.

"Just a warning," he muttered, and went back inside. Back to Brenda. Back to my lovely ex-best friend. Brenda obviously was oblivious of Andy's treatment of me. But she sure hadn't protested when I left.

As I began the long, long walk home, I reflected. Brenda was a lovely girl. Why would she be romantically interested in a guy like me? I was a nerd, weak, non-handsome, a wimp. She obviously wanted a powerhouse like Andy, someone who could me a real man. This I told myself over and over again. But by the time I got home I had to rush to the bathroom and turn on the water, so my mother wouldn't hear my tears.

I didn't hear from Brenda for another two years. Not until we were seniors in high school. The weeks after I had been roughed up by Andy I held out a half-hearted hope that Brenda would call me up and ask me why I never came around any more. But she never did. She had written off a lifelong friendship with someone, just because he wasn't hard-boiled.

It was because of Spanish class that she reentered my life. It was the day we all presented our commercial, where we each wrote and performed a commercial for an imaginary product in Spanish. Many students elected to present a group project, but I worked alone. I had few friends, and I liked things better that way.

J. Jamison Johnson was presenting. I guess every school has someone like Jamie. He was crazy. Not life of the party crazy, not risk-taking Chuck Yeager crazy, but certifiable. I always expected men in white coats to come drag him off. He never blinked. Never. He complained of voices only he could hear. He'd doze off in class, and awaken with a start, screaming of spiders. On no fewer than four occasions he had to deliver urine specimens to a doctor to prove he wasn't abusing an illegal narcotic.

Jamie had set up a large, garishly painted refrigerator box in front of the class. Grinning into the video camera the teacher was manning, he addressed the imaginary TV audience.

"Damas y Caballeros," he began (I'll translate from now on), are you tired of your bland, wretched lives? Need a change? Tired of your ugly face and potato-sack of a body?" Yes, I thought to myself.

"Then what you need is Dr. Jamie's patented Image Enhancer! Yes, thanks to the research of dozens of German scientists working out of Buenos Aires, our labs have developed the most amazing breakthrough in the subject of image enhancement since Hair in a Can! May I have a volunteer, please?"

Of course, no one raised their hand. That was tragic for me, because Jamie's glance soon fell in my direction.

"You sir!" he shouted like a carnival barker. "What is your name?"

"Roberto," I edgily replied, giving my Spanish name.

"Roberto, please step up here. Tell me, sir, are you happy with your present appearance?"

Since he obviously wanted me to say no, I replied in the negative. It was the truth, anyway.

"Then Roberto, please step into the Image Enhancer and let it work its magic!" Warily, I ducked into the door cut in the side of the box.

Much to my surprise, I realized I was not alone in there. Tammi Jones, a pretty blonde friend of Jamie's was in there as well. I was further shocked to see she was wearing an evening gown. She held a finger up to her lips and winked at me.

"And now," continued Jamie, "the Image Enhancer will work its magic. Robert, would you please come out and show the audience what wonders this great machine has worked on your ugly mug?"

I was confused. What wonders was he talking about? As I made for the door, Tammi grabbed my arm to restrain me. Then she walked out in my place.

"Wow, what an improvement!" shouted Jamie, and the class roared with laughter. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Tammi was supposed to be me, after I had my image 'enhanced.'

"Roberto, would you agree that you are now much better looking that when you entered this machine?"

"Yes!" said Tammi, enthusiastically. Through a crack in the box I could see her twirl and then wink at the audience. "I'm a doll!"

"Another satisfied customer! Thank you Roberto."

"Please," tittered Tammi, "call me Roberta!"

I had a hard time not laughing myself. It was pretty funny, even from my point of view. Too bad Jamie couldn't really invent something like that. Not a sex changer, but something that would make me handsome.

For the rest of the day, I put up with good-natured jibes from fellow classmates. "Aw, he changed back. Too bad, he was cute before." "Hey Robert, they certainly did a number on you. How did you fit in that dress?" "Hey, if you see Roberta around, tell her that about three guys want to ask her out."

I didn't think much of the incident after that. I had practically forgotten about it when I got the call next week.

I had been sitting at home after school when the phone rang. When I picked it up and said hello, I nearly fell out of my seat. "Hello yourself," came a familiar voice.

"Brenda?" I nearly jumped out of my seat with joy.

"Of course it's me. Sorry to call out of the blue like this, but I was wondering if you'd like to get together some time."

Would I? What a question! "Yes, of course. How about tomorrow?"

"Sounds great." We named a place and hung up.

The next day, as I sat in a booth of the fast food place we had decided on, I wondered what had brought on Brenda's desire to give me a call. Was she having regrets about cutting off our friendship like that? Did she want to be buddies again? Was she having some sort of problem that she wanted to talk about? Whatever the reason, I was glad she would be back in my life again.

When she walked in I nearly jumped out of my seat. When I had last seen Brenda, she had been a pretty fifteen-year-old girl. Now, she was a gorgeous, seventeen-year-old young woman. Her long black tresses hung down her back in a simple ponytail. Her long, slender legs peeped out from under her stylish skirt. Her body had continued to fill out, she was now more buxom and curvaceous than I remembered her. Her perfect face broke into a smile when she saw me and I thought my heart would melt.

"Robert!" she called joyfully. She caught my face in her hands and kissed my cheek.

"It's been a long time," I babbled, awkwardly.

"Too long," murmured Brenda, as she sat down across from me. "Robert, I guess I need to apologize "

"For what?" I asked, though I knew.

"For ditching you and never calling you again. That was horrible of me."

"No, you just had your life to live "

"But it wasn't like that. Listen, Robert, I need someone to talk to. I hate to unload on you after all this time, but "

"Please, I'm glad I could be of service." Brenda smiled her lovely smile again.

"Well, I've been dating Andy for about two years now. At first, I thought it would be fun, me a cheerleader, him a football player. But after a few months, I realized that there was something wrong. He's selfish, Robert. Selfish, egotistical, and rude. He never remembers my birthday, never compliments me, never does any nice little things for me. Finally, last month, I told him to shove off. I deserve better."

"Good for you. How did he take it?"

"He was pissed. He said I'd regret it, but I sure don't. I feel freer than I have in a long time." I smiled inwardly. Tough luck, you SOB.

"At any rate," she continued, "last week, in Spanish class, my teacher brought in a tape from your high school. I was pretty surprised to see the face of my old best friend up there. That is until you got changed into a woman!" I groaned. No contact for two years, and now she sees me get a video sex change.

"So I got to thinking. You always remembered my birthday. You'd always notice when I felt sad. You'd do little things for me that made me feel good all day. That's when I got to wondering why I ever stopped being friends with you." She reached over and took my hand. "Robert, I didn't realize it until then how much I missed you. Do you think do you think we could be pals again? Just like old times?"

"Brenda, I've missed you too! Of course we can be friends again." Brenda smiled and got up. "I have to go now. But listen, why don't you come over this weekend? Seinfeld's off the air, but we've got a lot of catching up to do."

I was practically dancing on the ceiling by the time Mom came home that night. Why shouldn't I have been? Brenda was back! We would be buddies again. And maybe no, it was silly to think this, but maybe, after two years with a jerk, she'd be looking for someone who treated her right. Someone like me.

It was stupid, but I couldn't help wondering. I'd play it cool though, the worst thing that could happen would be that we remained good friends.

"So why are you in such a good mood?" my mom asked me over dinner.

"Brenda and I got together today. It was good to see her."

"That's nice. You ought to bring her over here some time." That was my mom. Every time I mentioned any woman, Mom wanted to meet her. I could tell she hoped Brenda and I would get together. I think ever since Dad left, she was afraid I would end up with nobody.

I had Mom drop me off at the appointed time. She wanted to come in and say hi, but I wouldn't let her. I was afraid she'd get into a conversation with Brenda's parents and we'd never get any time alone. I walked up Brenda's long driveway. Even after a couple of years it was exactly how I remembered it: the three story house, the well-manicured lawn, the four or five cars parked in the garage and out front. I was never quite sure what Brenda's parents did for a living, but they were obviously quite successful at it.

Before I could reach the door, there was Brenda, just like old times. She gave me a big hug, and waved to my mother, who honked back at her as she was pulling out. Taking me by the hand, Brenda led me inside.

"Robert," she gushed, "I have to admit, I've really been looking forward to this. Andy really didn't like it when I hung out with my friends, so it's been a while that I've been able to relax with anyone. Can I get you something to drink?"

Soon we were sitting on the couch, chatting as if we did it every day. "So where are your parents?" I asked.

"Oh, they're at work. It's for the best, that gives us more time to get reacquainted."

Soon, much to my chagrin, the subject of the Spanish video came up. "You looked pretty cute in that video," she teased.

"Spare me."

She pinched my cheek. "So what did they use? Makeup?"

"Ha, ha. You know that wasn't really me."

"Of course not. But I bet with a little padding, you'd be even prettier than that girl in the video."

"That's almost insulting, Brenda. Of course I wouldn't be."

"Bet you would."

"No. I wouldn't." I was almost angry. Why was she so insistent upon the subject?

Brenda took me by the hand and pulled me into her bedroom. She then closed the door.

"You know, Robert, I bet you'd fit into some of my things. Why don't you try some on?"

"Are you out of your mind? Why?"

"I want to see what you'd look like." She smiled prettily and played with her hair.

"Nothing doing!"

"Please, Robert? Just a dress, and maybe some makeup."

"Maybe I should go." I was getting a little freaked out here. Why did she want me to dress like a girl?

"Please stay. I'll make you a deal. Let me give you a make-over. If you don't think you look like a pretty girl, then I'll...hmmmm."

"You'll what?"

"I'll give you a kiss." She grinned. I half-smiled. She had just said about the only thing that would have made me even consider such a plan.

"Promise no one will know?" She crossed her heart and made the Boy Scout salute.

"What do I have to do?"

"First, take off your clothes." I guess she saw my shocked expression. "Don't worry, I'll leave the room." She was gone before I could tell her I wouldn't have minded had she stayed.

Watching myself in the floor length mirror on her door, I disrobed. I regarded my slim, freckled body. No muscles, no body hair, no manly stature. Just freckles and orange hair. I wondered if I'd ever need to shave or if I could hope to grow any taller. "Now what?" I called through the door.

"On top of my dresser there's a pair of panties. Put them on." They were colorful cotton briefs, clearly made for a woman. I pulled them on. They were soft and silky against my skin. Obviously, they couldn't contain all of me, I clearly bulged in the front. Luckily, the cold room prevented me from 'expanding' in that direction. "Got them on?" asked Brenda. When I answered yes, I was shocked when Brenda casually walked in.

I tried to cover myself. "What are you doing?"

She winked at me. "Oh, stop being so modest. I need to help you with everything else." Soon she was rummaging through her bureau. "Ah, this will be perfect." She displayed for me a white, lacy bra.

"You don't honestly expect me to wear that?" I balked.

"Why not? I do." She then hiked up her shirt, revealing an identical bra, along with her ample cleavage and flat stomach. I went to put on the bra.

"Let me help you," said Brenda, pulling down her shirt. She stood behind me and helped me pull the feminine garment around my arms. Then she hooked it in the back. I felt like I was throttling on the elastic straps. I wanted to look at my reflection, but she blocked my view. "Not yet."

Brenda then showed me a couple of washcloths, which she began wadding up. "Now I need to give you some breasts! That's a C-cup you're wearing there, you know." She stood behind me and gently filled in my brassiere cups with the hand towels.

A funny thing happened while she was padding me. It didn't realize it at first, but I began to get aroused. It was understandable; I mean, there I was, almost naked, with Brenda moving her hands all over my body. By the time I worked out what was going on, it was too late to start thinking about baseball.

Mercifully, Brenda didn't seem to notice how I was filling out her panties. She kept adjusting and readjusting the padding in my bra, until she felt the cups were more or less the right shape. "That'll do for now," she said. "Now let's get you some clothes." As she turned to go through her closet, I quickly moved behind her bed and placed a pillow in front of my hips. I didn't want her to know how much her touch excited me, and I certainly didn't want her to think I found being dressed in women's underwear arousing.

Brenda returned with a light-green skirt. "I think this will look good on you. Redheads like you always look nice in green."

"What does it matter? No one else will see me. Why are you taking this so seriously?"

"Oh, I dunno. I guess I just don't want to do a slipshod job. Now put this on." Grudgingly, I stepped into the skirt. It was a little too small, but I managed to zip it up in the back. Brenda then came at me with a tight little sweater. I pulled my way into it.

"Are you quite finished yet?" For two years I had fantasized about being with Brenda again. Now my dreams were coming true, and the first thing she wants to do it doll me up in her clothes.

"Not finished yet, honey."

"What do you mean, not finished? What more could I put on?"

"For starters, there's makeup."

"Makeup?" I looked in horror at the mascara brush in her hand. "No way. That wasn't part of the deal."

Brenda looked sad. "C'mon, Robert. No one will ever find out. Just let me make up that pretty face of yours."

"Nothing doing. I have my pride."

Brenda looked me in the eye. Then she slid her arms around my waist. "I understand. It's just that I've never met a guy who cared about me enough to let me make him pretty." She leaned her head on my shoulder. "Are you sure you won't think about it?"

At the moment I was incapable of thinking about anything; there was too much blood gone from my head. All I could do was nod.

Brenda sat me down in front of her makeup table. She would not let me look in the mirror. Instead, she stood in front of me and began applying the makeup.

"It's a good thing you don't have a beard," she said as she sharpened an eyeliner pencil. "Otherwise, you'd never look right." I blushed. A lot of guys my age were already shaving, and yet I couldn't pretend to even need to trim a couple of hairs.

Brenda started rubbing foundation into my cheeks. "I've always thought your freckles were cute," she said, "so I won't cover them up too much." The foundation felt cold and goopy and I began to wish that I hadn't agreed to this. It was just that when Brenda had touched me, I felt like there was nothing I wouldn't do for her.

Brenda then moved on to my eyes. The eyeliner felt painful and the mascara was gross feeling. I wanted to wipe it all off, but Brenda stayed my hand. "I'm almost done now. You can wash it all off in a few minutes."

Lastly came the lipstick. Brenda applied and wiped off several colors until she said she found a shade that looked good on me. And that was that.

"Can I look yet?" I whined. In spite of myself, I had begun to wonder just how silly I looked in this getup. Probably pretty damn stupid. But then again, I was the one here with Brenda, not that jerk Andy.

"Not just yet," replied Brenda. "Robert, honey, you're such a sweetheart for agreeing to this. I'll make this up to you." I smiled inwardly, wondering how.

Brenda walked to her closet and returned with a blonde wig. "This was part of my Halloween costume last year. Here, let me put it on you." She draped the long hair over my head. Then she sat behind me and began brushing it. I have to admit that it was a pleasant sensation, just sitting back with Brenda stroking my hair, so near me.

"One more thing." Brenda clipped two black plastic earrings to my ears. "There. All done. Would you like to look?"

I grimaced and turned to the mirror. I don't know what I was expecting, I guess I figured I'd look like a circus clown or something. That's why it took me a few minutes to fully comprehend what I was looking at.

She was uncomfortable, that was for sure. Terrified, even. Her hair was messy and there was something about her makeup that wasn't quite right. But she was a girl. She had curves and breasts, and girl's clothes. I smiled and she smiled back.

I leaned forward to examine this girl in the mirror some more. She did likewise. Her hair was obviously a wig, but it was hard to tell. She had freckles that make her look both cute and innocent at the same time. I stood up and turned around. Could you tell that she wasn't really a girl? It would be hard. There was no sign of any masculine characteristics. No beard, no towering height or prominent jaw.

Was she pretty? It was hard to say. Certainly nowhere near as lovely as Brenda, but from the point of view of a teenage boy I didn't want to think about that any longer.

"So what do you think?" asked Brenda, clearly excited.

"Great," I said flatly. "Now can I change back?"

"So soon? I just finished." She began to pout.

"Brenda, what has gotten into you? This is humiliating for me! I'm putting on my own clothes now." I moved to remove my earrings.

"Wait!" she shouted, almost as if she were terrified that I'd put on boy clothes again.

"What?"

"What do you think of yourself?"

"I look like an idiot."

"No you don't. You look very pretty."

"That's crap. I look like a guy in a skirt."

"No, you look like a lovely young woman."

That did it. "Good-bye, Brenda. I'm changing then, I'm leaving here." I valued her friendship, but not that much.

Brenda grabbed me by the arm. "I'm sorry, Robert. That was rude of me. After I saw that video I got to wondering if I was good enough with makeup to make a guy pretty. I guess this is pretty uncomfortable for you. Why don't you wash off your makeup, and I'll make some popcorn." Her voice was desperate, I think she was afraid she had offended me.

I calmed down. "Thanks Brenda. I didn't mean to get angry."

"It's OK. Oh " Brenda put her hands on my shoulders. "I guess I loose the bet."

"What bet?"

"If you didn't think you looked like a pretty girl, then I'd give you a kiss. And since you obviously don't..." Without warning, Brenda leaned over and kissed me. For a long time. I'd never been kissed before, and all of a sudden the prettiest girl I knew was pressing her lips to mine. And a lot harder than the bet required. Eventually she pulled away. She winked and left. I sat on her bed, numb. She had lipstick smeared on her mouth. My lipstick.

I sat there numb for a few minutes. She had kissed me! A real kiss! I didn't believe that garbage about the bet, all she had to do was give me a peck on the cheek. Or refuse flat out. But she hadn't.

What did it mean? Were we dating now? Or just friends? I had to play it cool. One thing was for sure, though. I couldn't stay dressed like this any more.

I found Brenda in the kitchen, popping some corn. "Hey Robert," she smiled. "I figured you'd have gotten out of those clothes ASAP."

"I will, believe me. I was just wondering the best way to remove this makeup."

"With cream. Hang on a minute, I'll give you a hand."

"Thanks hey, watch the corn!"

"Huh? Oh!" The popcorn was popping over the top of the pot. Quickly, Brenda grabbed the pot by its handle, without thinking that it wasn't insulated. She screamed in pain and dropped everything on the floor.

Forgetting everything but the fact that Brenda had just been burned, I took her by the arm and lead her to the sink. After I had run her hand under some cold water I inspected the wound.

"How bad is it?" she asked, not looking.

"It think you'll be OK. Go put some Bactine on it, I'll take care of this."

After Brenda disappeared into the bathroom I turned off the stove and began cleaning up the spilt popcorn. I guess it wall all the commotion that prevented me from hearing the car drive up.

When I heard the kitchen door open, I froze. 'It can't be.' I thought. 'It simply can't be.' But it was. When I turned, I was standing face to face with Brenda's parents. And I was still wearing her clothes.

Brenda's parents looked slightly puzzled. As I tried to think of some sort of plausible excuse as to why I was wearing their daughter's skirt, sweater, and makeup, Brenda walked in.

"Hey, Mom, Dad. Didn't expect you home so soon." I wanted to cry. Why wasn't Brenda leaping to my defense, explaining that I didn't normally dress like a woman?

"Got off early," replied her father. "I don't believe we've met your friend."

"Oh, this is um Roberta. She came over to watch movies with me."

Her mother started to say something, but then noticed the washcloth Brenda was holding around her injured hand. When Brenda had explained her injury, her parents nearly bowled her over in an effort to examine her. It was only with an effort that she convinced them that she didn't need to go to the emergency room.

I stood there uncomfortably, wringing my hands and wishing that Brenda had never called me. How dare she introduce me as 'Roberta'? Did she think it was funny to humiliate me in front of her family? I'm sure they'd all have a great laugh about it when I was gone.

Finally, I managed to get Brenda alone in her room.

"How dare you!" I barked.

"Excuse me?"

"Calling me Roberta! I guess you think making me look like a fag in front of your parents is a pretty funny joke, huh?"

"Robert, what are you talking about?"

"You probably knew they were coming home, but wanted me to make an ass of myself!"

Without warning, Brenda doubled over laughing. "Oh, Robert, Robert. Forget your male pride. Did my parents seem surprised or upset?"

"Well, no."

"Of course not. Robert, honey, they thought you were a girl! I had to introduce you as Roberta, otherwise you really would have been embarrassed!"

"Embarrassed? What could me more embarrassing that being taken for a woman?"

"Well, being taken for a cross dresser, for one. I'm so sorry, I honestly didn't expect them home for another couple of hours."

"Well I'm going to tell the truth!"

"Why?"

"Why! Um because I'm not a woman!"

"So what logical reason will you give them for being dressed like that? I know it's my fault, but you'll be the one who looks weird."

I hadn't thought of that. "Look, just sit tight," continued Brenda. "No one has to know anything. Our secret."

"Have you forgotten," I seethed "that I live across town? Either Mom has to come and get me or your parents have to drive me home. And I can't very well expect my mom not to comment on the way I'm dressed!"

Brenda's face went gray. "I hadn't thought of that."

"This was all your idea. I can either be humiliated in front of my mom or your parents. I choose your parents. Thanks for nothing." I yanked off my wig and made for the door.

"Wait!" screamed Brenda.

"What?"

"You could...you could spend the night."

"Spend the night?" My anger faded, just a little.

"I'll tell my parents that you're going to sleep over. You call your mom and tell her you met up with a male friend and are going over to watch movies or something. If I remember her, she'll trust you enough to take that at face value. After my folks leave for work tomorrow you can change back and have your mom take you home."

"But I'd have to act like a girl all night!"

"Mom and Dad won't force themselves on us. Just try to talk in a higher register and remember not to scratch your balls." She could tell I wasn't excited about this.

"Not a lot of guys would do this for a woman," she said touching my cheek. "But I know you're man enough to do me a favor. Will you do it, honey?" That was like the third or forth time she had called me 'honey' that night. It was getting harder and harder to tell myself she didn't think of me in a romantic way at all.

"OK," I sighed. "But I'm only doing this for you."

She smiled, and kissed me again. Not as long as last time, but another kiss nonetheless.

Later that night, we both sat in her room talking. It was nearly three. We had watched some movies and had some snacks. Mom hadn't suspected a think when I called her (that's the one good thing about being dull. No one expects you to lie, even when you are). After Brenda had made it clear she didn't want her parents hanging around us, we were left mercifully alone. I still affected a more feminine voice and tried to sit up straight, with my legs crossed.

But now it was bedtime. It had been so nice just to sit in her room and talk, catching up on old times. While I hadn't had a lot to relate, Brenda caught me up on all she had been doing. What interested me most, however, were her stories about Andy. While previously I had thought he was just a jerk, I began to understand he was worse than that. Brenda implied, though never flat-out said, that Andy had come close to being violent towards her on more than one occasion. My selfish motives aside, I was happy that Brenda had escaped that moron.

"Well," said Brenda with a lazy stretch, "I think we ought to turn in."

"OK. I'll..." I stopped short. Brenda had begun disrobing right in front of me.

Off went her shirt. Off came her pants. She was standing there, in nothing but her skivvies. Was this it? Were we about to do it? Oh God, what a night!

Brenda began to unhitch her bra, when she happened to turn and see me. I guess the fact that my jaw was scraping the floor didn't help things. "Whoops!" She smiled. "I've been thinking of you as Roberta a bit too long, I guess." Damn! Oh well.

Brenda pulled on a nightgown, then removed her bra from underneath. She playfully threw it at me. I gulped.

"So, um what should I sleep in?"

She giggled. "Here you go." She handed me a lacy nightgown.

"Don't you have any sweat pants or anything?"

She ignored that. "You'll look cute," was all she would say.

I removed my skirt and sweater. Brenda refused to allow me to remove my bra, saying I needed to keep my breasts, in order to look authentic. Though who would be seeing me, she didn't say. I insisted on getting out of the wig and removing my makeup, however.

Finally, Brenda turned off the light and crawled into bed. I froze. Did she expect me to join her? What if I did and she got mad? What if I didn't and she had expected me to? Fearing offending her, I lay down on the floor. Roberta turned over in bed.

"Robert, does your back hurt?"

"No, why?"

"I was wondering why you're sleeping on the floor. Stop acting so silly and get into bed."

Still in my nightgown, I crawled under the sheets with the most beautiful woman I had ever known. And I still had no idea what to do. Should I make a move or no? She had her back to me, but that didn't necessarily mean she wasn't interested.

Expecting rejection, I draped my arm around her prone body. She snuggled closer to me. She wasn't offended. Gingerly, gingerly I moved my hand upwards.

As my fingers made the first light contact with her silk-covered breasts, she moved away. I felt like the biggest ass in the world. She trusts me enough to let me sleep in the same bed with her, and I immediately go in for the kill.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she turned to me with a pleasant smile on her face. "Not just yet, Robert. Things are still a little fresh between Andy and I. I'm not ready. Would you mind if we put that off for a while?"

Would I mind? The love of my life asks if I could wait a bit before making love to her and I'm supposed to mind? I could barely stop from doing cartwheels!

That night I pictured it all in my head. I'd be the boyfriend she never had, but deserved. The great guy who was always there. The guy who knew what she liked and how she wanted to be treated. Someday, when she was ready, we'd make love. And then we'd never part.

It was funny, the whole time I was thinking about what a great boyfriend I'd be, it never occurred to me I was still wearing Brenda's clothes.

The next two weeks I was in heaven. Even though we lived a good distance from each other, Brenda insisted that we see each other several times a week. I called her every night. At first I was afraid that I was harassing her, but she would frequently tell me how nice it was to be remembered. Andy had rarely called unless he wanted something.

It was hard to define our relationship at that time. We were friends, that was for sure. But were we more? Brenda would introduce me as Robert. She never implied that we were linked romantically, but at the same time, she never denied it. When we'd run into her friends at the movies or restaurants, it seemed to me that they would assume I was her date.

We never did much physically. She'd kiss me goodnight, but would never let me go further. "I'm just not ready for that yet," she'd say, apologetically. I was patient. Brenda wasn't a tease, I knew she just had to work things out in her head before she could move on. As for me dressing in her clothes, she never mentioned it again.

It was right before senior prom I decided to step up my efforts to make her my official girlfriend. I knew that prom constituted a real date, but I figured I should at least ask her. With Andy out of the picture, she just might say yes to me.

I was bumbling and awkward when I asked, but I managed to blurt out that I'd like to accompany her to prom. She giggled, then kissed me. "I was wondering if you'd ever ask me. Yes, of course I'll go."

I was walking on air all that night! Prom with the girl of my dreams! For once I wouldn't be a nerd! We'd walk into the prom at her school proudly. I'd be there with the prettiest girl on the dance floor.

I didn't mention my achievement to anyone that night, out of fear I'd jinx things. It was a good thing, too. The next night, she called me up, in tears.

"I have to talk to you, Robert. I'll come pick you up. I don't think we can go to prom."

I managed to bite my lip until she had picked me up and we'd pulled out of the driveway. "What's wrong Brenda?" I asked, concerned. She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled the car over to the side of the road and began bawling.

"What? What is it?" Even before she said anything, I knew somehow that Andy was to blame.

She handed me a folded piece of paper. "I found it in my locker today."

'Dear Brenda,' it read.

'I heard you think your (sic) going to prom with another guy. NO WAY! I swear to God that any guy who so much as holds your hand at prom it gonna get his face smashed in. I'm gonna be there ready to pound whatever geek you take. You go with me or you don't go!

Andy'

I was stunned. I knew Andy had taken it badly, but this?

"I'm so sorry, Robert. We can't go, he'd kill you."

"We'll just go to the prom at my school." I felt sick to my stomach. I could only imagine what would happen if Andy decided he wanted to beat me up. He was twice my size!

"He'd just follow me. I'm sorry, Robert, but I can't let anything happen to you. You're too special. We'll just come to my place, play Monopoly "

NO! By God, no! I may be a scrawny shrimp, but I'd be damned if I was going to have Brenda sit home on prom night because I wasn't as manly as Andy.

Brenda had plunged her face into my shoulder and began sobbing harder. Gently, I took her chin in my hand. "Brenda, I'm taking you to that prom." She tried to interrupt. "Don't you see? If you don't come, he'll win! Do you want that? Him controlling your life? I'm willing to stand up to him. I don't care if he is bigger, I'm not going to let you get pushed around." There. I said it. Let's see, blood type, B+, no allergies, I guess I should will everything to Mom...

Brenda stopped weeping. "Why would I think you'd ever abandon me, Robert? But I'm not letting you go. I'm not exaggerating when I say you'd wind up in the hospital."

"I'll take the risk." Gulp.

"No. He'd pick a fight with Mike Tyson if I showed up with him. There's no one he wouldn't pound, except maybe..." she stopped short. Sitting up straight, she wiped her eyes and looked at me.

"What?" I was afraid she'd remembered a macho friend who she could go to prom with.

"Robert, you really did make a convincing girl the other day."

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "You said you weren't going to bring that up."

"I'm sorry. But well, you did. It was really hard to tell you weren't a guy. And I was just thinking, Andy wouldn't hit a girl."

I instantly saw where she was going with that. "No way," I stated.

"Hear me out. If I made you up pretty enough to pass for Roberta, you could still be my date! I'll tell everyone at school what Andy threatened to do. Everyone will expect him to pound whatever guy I go with. Then, when I show up with a woman, he'll look like an idiot. All psyched up to beat someone up, and he won't be able to do anything!"

"No way. I'm showing up in a tux, not a gown."

"Then I'm not going. You've a braver man than Andy, but that won't do you any good in the ER."

"You must think I'm a real sissy." I was bitter.

"Jesus, do you men ever listen? You're willing to stand up to a guy twice your size, just to protect me. You're three times the man Andy was. But facts are facts and you'll get hurt. Maybe you could just put aside your pride a bit and take me to that prom." She snuggled against me. "I'll even let you lead."

I didn't now weather to laugh or cry. "What will people think? You dancing with a woman, I mean."

"Who cares? I could just get a female friend to go with me, but I'd rather go with you." She flipped my hair.

"Promise no one will recognize me?"

"You won't recognize yourself."

"Then...Christ, the things I do for you."

She pecked my cheek. "Better you should concentrate on the things I'm going to do with you." She licked her lips and started the car.

The next day I showed up and Brenda's house to go shopping for gowns. The indignity of it! A seventeen-year-old guy getting ready for prom by going to a formal dress store! Still, I was doing it for Brenda. It was a chance to make her safe and to show up Andy. But I much would have rather been big enough to stand up to Andy, not small enough to fit into a dress.

As usual, Brenda's parents weren't home and we'd have the whole place to ourselves. When I rang the doorbell, I was both surprised and pleased to see that she was wearing a towel over her hair, another one around her torso, and nothing else. "Hi, Robert. Sorry, I'm running a little late. C'mon in."

Trying to focus on her eyes, I followed. I thought about asking to borrow her towel, a la Chevy Chase in 'Fletch', but lost my nerve.

"I'll be dressed in a minute," she said as she ducked into the bathroom (don't put yourself out on my account). "In the mean time, why don't you go to my closet and pick something out to wear."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't very well take you to a women's clothing store as Robert, now can I?"

"Hang on, I never agreed to this! Can't you just pick a prom dress out for me?"

"Nope. They have to do measurements and such."

"What if someone I know sees me?"

"Don't worry. I'm taking you to a place that you couldn't um that I doubt you've been to."

"You mean, too fancy for me to afford, right?"

She stuck her head out of the bathroom, a guilty expression on her face. "Yes. Sorry."

That was always a point of awkwardness between us. Brenda had a new car, nice clothes, a big house. I lived in a tiny house, wore non-name brand clothes, and didn't have a car. Ever since Dad had run out on us, Mom had struggled to make ends meet. I still had no idea how I was going to afford college.

I slunk into Brenda's room and poked around in her closet, trying to find the least feminine things I could fit into. As if reading my thoughts, Brenda shouted from the bathroom "And no slacks or T-shirts. You have to look authentic, OK?"

I ignored her. I was already wearing a pair of her pants and wasn't going to change again. The pants had fit, much to my shock. Though Brenda was skinnier than me, she had much wider hips, enabling me to slip inside them. I then began searching for a top.

"Here, let me give you a hand." Brenda had returned, dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts and a T-shirt. Even dressed as sloppily as that, she seemed to exude femininity. I knew it would take a lot of effort to make me look half that good.

Brenda handed me an athletic bra. "Just slip that on. After I stuff you, no one will suspect anything if a clerk or someone should get a glimpse of you while your changing." I gulped. If anyone ever figured out my true gender, I'd have to leave town.

After Brenda had given me a nice pair of boobs (this time made up of nylon stockings stuffed with socks) she handed me a top.

"Brenda, I can't wear this!" I gasped, as soon as I had it on. "It doesn't go all the way down!" My freckled belly showed, just a little, between the shirt and pants.

"That's the point, silly. You're so skinny, you look cute in a midriff baring number. Like a red-headed Brittany Spears!" I blushed crimson.

"Now don't get like that," said Brenda, putting her arms around my neck. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Nothing to be ashamed of? It's not even prom night, and already I'm looking like a girl! Maybe we should just call this off."

Brenda placed her mouth very near mine. I could feel her breath on my face. "Robert, do you like being my boyfriend?" I gasped, inwardly. She had said it! We were a couple. I nodded.

"I like being your girlfriend. And do you know why? Because you go the extra mile. You do things for me no other guy would. And after prom, I'm going to show you just how grateful I am." She slapped my butt. "Now no more whining. Let me do your makeup."

When Brenda had made me up that first night, it was sort of a half-hearted job; she hadn't expected anyone else to see me. Today, it was different. Going to a store, even an exclusive private one, required me to look like a seventeen year-old girl.

"This might take a while," said Brenda when she began. "You're coloring is much different than mine, I'm going to have to try a few things before I know what's right."

"Just use a lot," I muttered, fidgeting under the towel she had placed over me. "The more you use, the less chance anyone will notice me."

"That's where you're wrong," replied Brenda, beginning to apply foundation to my face. "Any real woman can go out with no makeup and no one would suspect a thing. If you use too much, people might start to wonder what you're trying to cover up. I'm only going to put just enough one so that you won't arouse suspicion."

Soon, my freckles had faded under a thin layer of foundation and blush. My lips were painted scarlet and my eyelashes were coated with thick mascara. I began to tremble at how smoothly my transition between the genders went. How would I ever convince Brenda that I was man enough for her, if I made such a nice girl?

When Brenda had finished she winked at me. "You look really cute, Roberta."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I asked, feeling every bit the sissy.

"Because I don't want to slip up and call you Robert while we're in public. Now let me fix your wig and we'll be all set."

Soon we were in Brenda's convertible, driving off to God knows where. Brenda had wanted to drive with the top down, but I insisted we keep it up. What if someone saw me? I nearly died when a carload of teenagers from my school pulled up next to us at a light. I faced the other way until the light turned green. They didn't see me.

As we pulled into the parking lot of a ritzy looking department store, Brenda looked at me in an odd way. "Roberta, you know how I promised not to tell anyone about what you were doing?"

I felt my guts knot up. "You didn't tell anyone, did you? Dear God, you promised!"

"Calm down, honey. No, I haven't told anyone. But at the store we're going to, there's a beautician who has...I guess you could call it a special talent."

"What do you mean, 'special talent'?"

"She does make-overs for cross dressers...oh, don't give me that look!"

"I am not a cross dresser! I am only doing this for you, and I sure don't want to get made over with a bunch of drag queens! You act like this is a lifestyle of mine!"

Brenda lay a hand on my knee and I stopped ranting. "Roberta, I know you don't enjoy this. I just felt we'd be taking an unnecessary risk if we went shopping without help. You never know what could happen. I can dress you up OK, but this woman can work wonders. Will her help, I guarantee we'll have no problems on prom night. No one will suspect a thing."

"I don't know..."

"Please?" Brenda slipped her hand around my bare waist. "I promise, it won't hurt." She batted her eyes at me.

"OK. But I'm only doing this for you."

"I know you are honey. This is going to be a prom to remember."

She grabbed me by the hand and led me inside. I had never felt so self-conscious as I did right then, walking through the crowded department store wearing a half shirt, a female wig, and makeup. I felt like everyone was watching me, snickering behind their hands at my shameful costume.

"Relax, honey, you're doing just fine," Brenda whispered to me. "No one suspects a thing."

"So how did you find out about this make-over lady?" I asked, in an effort to take my mind off my feminine attire.

"She's a beautician. My mom uses her. She once mentioned that she occasionally did make-overs for female impersonators. So when I decided to take 'Roberta' to the prom, naturally I made an appointment for you."

"You did what? You said you didn't tell anyone!"

"Calm down. I didn't give your real name. Really, you need to learn to relax a bit."

I placed my hand over my 'breasts' and breathed heavily. "I'm sorry. You come here dressed as a man with the world staring at you, and see how calm you are."

Brenda looked mischievous. "I'll tell you what. You calm down now, or I'll yank that wig of yours off, right here in front of everyone."

I was horrified. "You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

I thought about it. "No, I really don't think you would."

Brenda sighed, I had called her bluff. "OK, I wouldn't. But if you're this nervous on prom night people are going to think something is up. Now here's our stop."

We had come to a secluded corner of the large store, a tiny glass-fronted door lead into what appeared to be a ritzy beauty salon. Brenda pulled me by the hand up to the reception desk.

"I have a one o'clock with Mary Ann," she told the clerk.

Soon we were joined by a smiling, middle-aged woman. "Brenda," she twittered. "It's so nice to see you. How is your mother?" They exchanged banalities for a while. "And this must be Roberta," continued Mary Ann. She squeezed my hand. "Well, shall we?"

We were led to a back room of the beauty parlor. When Mary Ann shut the door behind us, we were shut off from the rest of the store, free to talk in private.

I looked around. The compact room seemed to contain everything needed for a complete make-over: sink, basin, makeup table, sewing kit, swatches of material, and a changing screen. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when someone walked from behind the screen.

It was a pretty blonde girl, about my age. She was curvaceous, maybe even slightly plump, but as cute as could be. She wore a tight sweater which accentuated her ample bosom, and tight slacks through which the pleasing shape of her rear-end showed through. Her hair was in a simple ponytail, and she wore only enough makeup to accentuate her features. "Hi, Mom," she smiled when she saw Mary Ann.

"Hi Crystal. You know Brenda, and this is Roberta. She needs a little help passing as a woman for prom night."

Crystal winked at me. "She sure doesn't seem to be having any trouble now. But when we're through with her, she'll forget she was ever a boy."

At that moment I wished Brenda had never called me. My humiliation had never been so absolute. Dressing like Roberta for Brenda was one thing, I was only doing it to help her. And Mary Anne wasn't that big of a deal, she was only there to help. But no one said anything about telling my secret to this teenage goddess! To make matters worse, Crystal clearly thought I was doing this out of enjoyment! Had anyone bothered to inform her how I had been coerced into doing this? How I was protecting Brenda? No, they just let her think I was some kind of transvestite! I began to question how much I cared about Brenda.

No one seemed to notice my agony. Mary Ann was glancing me over, giving me a precursory inspection. "This is going to be easy," she smiled. "But we still have a lot of work to do. That silly wig will have to go for starters. Crystal, why don't you run over to Mr. Chad's and pick up something more Roberta's natural color?"

Crystal smiled, picked up her purse and was gone. "Now," continued Mary Anne "as for her dress..."

"Hold it right there!" I shouted. "Brenda, take me home this instant. Find someone else to take you to prom."

Brenda looked genuinely shocked. "Roberta, honey, what's wrong? I thought we'd discussed..."

"Discussed? No, you discussed. You had me believing that the only way I could go to your prom was as a girl! Then you drag me out here for a make-over, and tell half the world my secret!" I turned to Mary Ann. "Did you even bother to tell your daughter that I was forced into doing this? I doubt it! You must have just let her think that I'm some kind of teenage drag queen! She probably thinks I'm going to prom with a guy!" I felt like crying. Things weren't improved when both Brenda and Mary Ann started giggling.

"You poor thing," grinned Brenda, caressing my cheek.

"You didn't tell Roberta?" Mary Ann asked Brenda.

"No, you always warned me not to tell anyone Crystal's secret."

I was confused. "What secret? What are you two laughing about?"

At that moment Crystal returned, carrying a shopping bag. Mary Ann placed her hand on Crystal's shoulder.

"Crystal, dear, Roberta is a bit embarrassed that you know she's really a boy." Crystal seemed to think this was also hilarious. I wanted to run away, the sight of my girlfriend, the beautician, and the pretty blonde girl all laughing at me was just too much.

Crystal sat down beside me. "Roberta, I'm sorry if that freaked you out. I assumed you knew something about me, but I guess you don't."

"What? What don't I know?"

"That my real name is Christopher. I'm no more of a girl than you are."

I thought she was joking and rolled my eyes at her. But she just smiled and nodded.

I looked her over a second time. Those breasts, could they just be padding? That adorable face, was it nothing more than makeup? That feminine giggle, the result of careful practice? Did those tight jeans hide a maleness much like mine?

"How? Why?" I stammered.

Crystal winked at her mom. "Why don't you tell her?"

"OK," Mary Ann sat down next to her 'daughter.' While Crystal touched up her makeup, I listened to Mary Ann's story of Crystal's creation.

"About two years ago, when Crystal was fifteen (and known as Christopher), my husband was killed in an accident. He was the breadwinner in the house, and when he died, I didn't know what to do. I mean, I was forty years old, no skills, and a teenage son to support. I figured that maybe I could make a little money as a beautician. Unfortunately, I couldn't afford to go to beauty school. So I practiced at home.

"I couldn't practice on myself, and I only had so many friends I could impose on to let me do make-overs on them for hours at a time. I only had one alternative." Crystal smiled and waved her fingers at me.

"Obviously, Christopher refused at first. I mean, what kind of fifteen-year-old kid wants his mother to practice feminine beauty techniques on him?" Crystal giggled. "At any rate, he finally agreed. I don't think there was anything he wouldn't have done to help out the family." Mary Ann gave Crystal a one-armed hug.

"Every night, I'd spend about three hours turning my son Christopher into my daughter, Crystal. That may seem like a lot of time, but keep in mind I was trying to break into an industry I knew nothing about, with no training at all. I waitressed during the day, worked nights at a factory, and in my free time I tried to learn all the beauty secrets I could. Christopher was a real trooper, being willing to become a girl every evening, just to help me out.

"Finally, I began applying for jobs. I never realized how hopeless my dreams had been. No one was interested in a middle-aged woman with no experience. What's more, in this line of work you have to have a huge portfolio of makeovers you have done. All I had was Crystal, and I wasn't about to display photos of her.

"Eventually things got so bad that Christopher agreed to allow me to show off photos of Crystal. That, at least got me some interviews. But things didn't help much. Crystal looked beautiful, but she was just one facial type. I had to prove I could make-over women no matter what they looked like.

"I think I would have given up my dreams had my car not broken down and I had to have Christopher borrow a friend's car to pick me up."

Crystal giggled, and began to recite the story where Mary Ann left off. "So there I was, sitting in this office, listening to some gay beauty parlor owner tell Mom why he couldn't hire her. He holds up a picture of me as Crystal, then pauses. He looks over at me, then back at the photo, then at me again. His eyes get huge. Mom and I are terrified, obviously he figured out where Mom got her model. I was so relieved when he didn't mention it.

"But a week later, Mom gets a call from a friend of the hairdresser. Seems he has always wanted to look like a woman, but was too afraid to go to a beauty parlor. The guy Mom interviewed with told him about Mom's talent for beautifying men, and so he had called her. The guy paid five hundred bucks just for one make-over and photo session.

"After that, our phone never stopped ringing. People were calling from all over, begging to be made into women. It was pretty hysterical. Mom busts her rear learning the secrets of feminine beauty, and most of her customers are men!"

"But you!" I asked impatiently. "How come you are still dressing like that?"

"Well, when Mom started doing this full time, it was obvious that she needed an assistant. And since she couldn't afford to hire one, I worked for her. But we soon realized that something had to change. Men coming for female make-overs didn't feel comfortable with a teenage guy watching them; it made them ashamed. So before I knew it, I was going to work as Crystal."

Mary Ann resumed the story. "Crystal was an expensive investment. I had to pay for all kinds of makeup, cosmetics, and of course clothes. You never realize how expensive a teenage daughter can be until you've had to buy all her dresses in one week! Still, once Crystal was my assistant, all my clients felt at ease. And if they ever wanted proof of my talents, Crystal could simply take off her wig."

My head was spinning. "So how often are you dressed like that?" I asked the boy who was prettier than most girls I knew.

"Well, I haven't stopped dressing like this for over a year now. At first, I only did it evenings and weekends. But it was such a pain constantly changing from one identity to another. Soon I was Crystal non-stop, from Friday afternoon until Monday morning. I began to make friends as Crystal. I found myself almost thinking of myself as a girl. Finally, Mom began to worry that puberty would make it impossible for us to continue the ruse. I mean, if I grew a beard, I couldn't very well be her model, could I?

"We decided that the best course of action would for me to begin taking doses of estrogen. We figured that I could postpone the onset of male characteristics until I left for college. I was dressing like a girl so much by that time, it wasn't really a big sacrifice. We only made one mistake: we bought the hormones illegally, without consulting a doctor. And I ended up taking a just a bit too much."

"What happened?" I breathlessly asked.

"Well, I did end up going through puberty. Just as the wrong gender." Crystal began giggling so hard she couldn't go on. His mother continued.

"About half a year after Crystal began the hormones, I began to notice how it was gradually getting easier and easier to make him over. At first I chalked it up to experience, but soon I realized that wasn't the case. My son really was changing.

"His skin got softer. His hair grew silkier. I noticed him starting to fill out, the way a young woman would. I'll never forget the day I bought him his first bra. Obviously, he had to change schools, there was only so much you could cover with heavy clothes."

I was dumbfounded and scared. I hoped that my innocent foray into the other side of life would never go this far. "So what are your plans now?"

Crystal toyed with his blonde locks. I realized that his hair, unlike mine, was natural. "I'm not sure," he mused. "I really want to go to college next year, but I guess I should go back to being Christopher before then. I guess this summer I'll stop the estrogen, start taking some male hormones, and get on with my life."

"So," piped in Brenda, "now that you realize you are among friends, can we please get started?"

That was the last thing the three of them said to me the whole rest of the afternoon. I might as well have been a mannequin, for all the attention my opinions were given. After I was told to disrobe, I simply sat there shivering in my underwear, while the ladies decided how to do to me what had been done to Christopher.

The first thing Mary Ann said she must do was to give me a feminine figure. This was accomplished by squeezing me into a girdle so tight that I could barely breathe. "God, could you loosen that a little?" I begged. No such luck. "We have to pour you into a tight little prom dress," Mary Ann tittered. "Now," she said, turning to her 'daughter,' "what should be done about her chest?"

"Well," said Crystal, staring at my bare chest, "since there's no chest hair, why don't we use the glue-on kind?"

Glue on kind? I soon found out what that meant. Mary Ann slathered my chest with a goopy, yellow fluid. "It's a sort of epoxy," she explained. "It's powerful, but it comes right off with a little alcohol."

"But what exactly " I began. Then I saw Crystal coming towards me with a big grin. In each hand she held what appeared to be a woman's breast. Obviously fake, but they certainly jiggled and moved like the real thing (at least as the Playboy Channel would have me believe). "They're made of silicone and painted like the real things," said Crystal. "They won't pass close inspection, but under clothes they look very convincing." She pressed them to my chest and instructed me to lay back while the glue set.

"Are you sure they won't slip or anything?" I babbled.

"Oh yes. I used them myself until the hormones gave me my own." I glanced at Crystal's chest out of the corner of my eye. Though not huge, Crystal's boobs were certainly beauties. I couldn't believe they were growing on a guy.

"As long as she's laying down, why don't we get started on her makeup," suggested Mary Ann.

"Why do you keep calling me 'her'?" I complained. "You act like I'm really a girl."

"I apologize," smiled Mary Ann. "So many of my clients think of themselves as women that I always use feminine pronouns. Don't let it bother you."

I glanced at Brenda across the room. I expected to see her smirking, giggling at my discomfort. To my shock, she was smiling at me sweetly. She caught me looking at her and she winked at me. This made me relax a bit. Her approval meant a lot to me.

Mary Ann and Crystal spent the better part of an hour practicing the art of the make-over on me. As my boobs were still drying I couldn't sit up to see what they were doing. Lipstick, mascara brush, sponge, cotton balls, and eyeliner pencil flew before my dazed eyes. I even stoically submitted when they shaved my legs and armpits with electric clippers. Finally, it ended.

"Let me see," I begged, trying to look in a mirror.

"Not just yet, dear. Let's get you dressed first so you can see the finished product. Now sit up and see if your chest holds."

I climbed to a vertical position. My chest felt heavy; small wonder with my new appendages. While you could still see where they were attached, they looked eerily realistic. If I squinted, I could almost imagine I had grown them myself. I had to touch one to make sure it really wasn't mine.

"There you go," said Crystal. "Try not to look at them too much when you go out. It's tempting to glance at them, but you'll only draw suspicion to yourself. They'll be enough guys staring at them anyway."

I grimaced. "Anything else?"

"Be careful of them. Those are C cups, so you stick out more than you used to. Nothing's more embarrassing than knocking over your drink with your chest. Now lets get you dressed."

Brenda squealed with delight when she saw the gowns they had picked out. "Oh, Roberta, these are to die for! Oh, I wish I could dress you up like this all the time! Too bad you can only choose one."

"Yeah. Too bad."

"Now none of that, Ms. Pouty," chastised Crystal. "Try to enjoy yourself."

I looked the gowns over. "All of these show too much skin!" I whined.

"You have such a graceful back and shoulders," said Brenda. "You should really show them off."

I burned with humiliation. Graceful? That had nothing to do with clothes or padding. Obviously she thought I had a natural feminine quality about me. She'd have never said that to her thuggish ex. Obviously I wasn't the man he was.

And so, my back still to the mirrors, I tried on dresses. And accessories. Strapless dresses. Dresses with spaghetti straps. Off the shoulder, backless dresses. Dresses with ruffles and bows. Dresses that swept the floor, dresses that only came down to my knees. Dresses with full sleeves, dresses with none. Dark pantyhose, see through pantyhose, fishnet hose. Necklaces and bracelets. Clip on earrings. Purses. Even a variety of bras, to support my new cleavage without being seen. Finally, everyone (except me) came to a consensus.

It was in the form of a sleeveless, teal-green number. One shoulder was covered with ruffles, the other revealed my bare, freckled shoulder. It reached the floor. There were no bows, but there were lots of ruffles. My hose were light and my heels were black. I wore clip-on silver earrings and no other jewelry.

"Can I look now?" I pleaded.

"Just a minute," said Crystal. She then topped my head with a wig, a red one, more or less the same color as my own hair. "All set," she said.

I closed my eyes as the moved a full length mirror in front of me. I didn't know what I feared more: that I would look like a guy in drag and be suspect at prom, or that I'd look like a girl and never be a man in Brenda's eyes again. I looked.

And there she was. Roberta, Brenda's prom date. A cute, freckle-faced teenager, all dolled up for the big night. Thin, pale arms, skinny waist, and a surprisingly ample chest. She seemed nervous, and a little unsteady on her heels. Her makeup was flawless, obviously professionally done. I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

"So what do you think?" Asked Mary Ann. She looked hopeful. Obviously she took great pride in her work. It would be mean to tell her what I really thought of what I'd become.

"Very convincing," I commented. "You'd never guess."

"To say the least," said Brenda, sneaking up behind me and planting a kiss on my neck. "You're a doll, Roberta!" A doll. That's what she thinks of her boyfriend. I wondered how long we'd be together, before someone manly took my place.

"You'll have to return the afternoon before prom," Mary Ann informed me. "If you think we did a good job now, just wait until we get through with you next time!" Yippee.

Mary Ann and Crystal left to look after other, more traditional customers in the beauty salon, leaving me to change back into the outfit I had come in.

"Well, I hope this makes you happy, Brenda," I said, not without a trace of bitterness.

"Happy?" she asked. She then pounced on me, pinning me against the wall, and began devouring me with kisses. Our lipstick smeared together. I felt closer to her and more turned on than every before. Abruptly she pulled away and looked down. I followed her eyes. My arousal hadn't only men mental. I was now expanding my dress in a most unladylike manner.

"We'll have to do something about that when we go out," she laughed. "Get dressed, then we'll go home."

Soon the day of prom was upon us. I didn't know whether to be happy or miserable. I mean, that day several years ago when Andy threw me out, I never would have guessed that I was going to be the one taking Brenda to prom. Brenda had been talking about it all week, subtly mentioning that the fun we were going to have wouldn't end when the dance was over.

But it all seemed ridiculous. I mean, I was going in a gown! I was going to try to look curvaceous and pretty. How could I enjoy prom like that? I kept hinting that we'd have more fun if I went in a tux, but Brenda would always remind me of Andy's threats. I wished I were manly enough to stand up to her.

The plan was that Brenda would drop me off at Mary Ann's beauty salon in the early afternoon. Mary Ann and Crystal would give me a make-over, while Brenda readied herself at her own house. She'd then pick me up and take me to prom.

If Mary Ann and Crystal were careful when they first transformed me, they were absolutely meticulous this time. They took care of every detail. They scoured my skin for even the slightest hair, which they quickly plucked with tweezers. They filed my nails down to perfection, then delicately painted them red. My makeup was applied, removed, and reapplied. They forced me to walk back and forth across the dressing room until they concluded that my walk was sufficiently feminine. They coached me on my speech. I don't exactly have a manly voice, so it wasn't hard to sound like a husky-voiced girl.

The most embarrassing part of the ordeal came when Mary Ann revealed that Brenda had told her about my erection the previous time. I hid my face. "Nothing to be ashamed of," said Mary Ann. "But we do have to cover it up." She handed me a pair of rubber panties. "These should be tight enough to contain anything." I struggled into them behind the screen. They were almost painfully restrictive, but tight enough that I didn't have to worry about anything showing up when I was dancing close with Brenda.

After about three hours of preparation, I was finished. Brenda arrived at that moment, in a cloud of perfume. We stood in front of the mirror and stared.

Brenda had worn her hair up. Her dress was strapless, exposing the top of her ample chest and silky, bare arms. Her gown glittered due to the sequins sewed into it. She looked lovelier than I had ever seen her. At that moment, I would have done anything for her.

She was looking at me intently. "Wow, Roberta, you're beautiful. My God, you put me to shame!" I regarded my reflection. The green of my dress accentuated the red of my wig. My freckled shoulder and arms stood out smooth and weak. The prosthetics gave me an hourglass figure. I really did look kind of cute.

"So what do you think?" asked Crystal, looking rather cute himself in a simple skirt and top.

"Great job. I don't think anyone will notice."

"I'll say!" agreed Brenda. "I'm walking into prom tonight on the arm of the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!"

"So am I," I smiled. We both blushed a bit.

"I have something for you," I told Brenda. Reaching into my gym bag, I pulled out a small box. I removed the corsage I had purchased for her and pinned it to her wrist. It was the one manly gesture I could make that evening: buying a flower for my date.

Brenda looked like she was about to melt in my arms. "That is so sweet! I can't remember the last time anyone bought me a flower. Andy never..." she stopped short. She knew I didn't like hearing about Andy, even in a negative sense.

"I have something for you, too," giggled Brenda. Wouldn't you know, she had bought me a flower as well. A white carnation, with green tinge to match my dress. As she pinned it to my wrist, my humiliation was complete: my date pinning a corsage to me. What could be more girlish?

"I'm so jealous," sighed Crystal. "Wish I was coming as well." I wondered what was going on in Crystal's mind. It seems that there was more to the ruse then helping out Mary Ann. I wondered if Crystal would follow through with the plan to return to manhood after high school.

"Try not to break too many hearts, girls," smiled Mary Ann as we left.

I was silent as Brenda drove me to her high school. Since I knew almost no one at her school, I was certain no one would recognize me. But what if they saw through my disguise?

"Brenda?"

"Yes, Roberta?"

"You don't think anyone will realize I'm a guy, do you?"

"I don't think they'd believe you if you told them."

"What about Andy?"

"Who?"

"Andy, you know, your ex. The reason I'm dressed this way." After all the trouble I went to, it certainly annoyed me that Andy had slipped her mind.

"Oh oh, yes of course. I'm sure he'll be angry, but what can he do?" Two weeks ago she'd been scared to death of him, now she didn't seemed concerned. Too late now, we had arrived.

I braced myself. "Tell me again why I'm doing this."

"Because you care about me enough to swallow your pride and be there for me when I need you."

"Are you sure we have to do this?"

"You know, my parents are in Chicago this weekend. Maybe after prom we could try out the new hot tub."

"I didn't bring my swimsuit."

"So?" Brenda hopped out of the car. Numbly, I followed.

I looked around at the crowd milling in front of the high school. Dozens of young women, looking exquisite in their dresses. Dozens of young men, looking both handsome and uncomfortable in their tuxes.

I looked wistfully at a guy who was even shorter and skinnier than me, arrive on the arm of a girl just as pretty as Brenda. Why wasn't I that guy?

"Brenda!" a feminine voice squealed. I turned to see a group of three lovely girls, obviously friends of Brenda, approaching. "So glad you decided to come!"

"Candy, Cindi, Angie! I wouldn't have missed it for their world." She kissed each one on their cheek.

"So are you double dating tonight?" one of the girls asked, smiling at me.

"Not exactly. Remember how Andy threatened to punch out anyone who showed up with me?" The girls nodded, angrily. "Well, I'd like you to meet Roberta my date for the evening!"

There was a stunned silence. This was it, how would they react? I breathed a sigh of relief when they all burst into joyful laughter.

"That's so wonderful!" one of them giggled as they all hugged both Brenda and myself. "Andy can't fight with a woman, can he? Good thinking!" I began to feel relief. Not only was I passing as a girl, but also no one seemed to think Brenda's plan was odd. We all made our way to the front door.

"Brenda!" I recognized the fingernails-on-chalkboard sound of the voice, even before I turned around. There was Andy, as ugly and burly as I remembered him. This was it.

"Oh, it's you," said Brenda, with bored contempt. Brenda's friends glowered at Andy.

"Yeah, me. Your boyfriend. What are you doing here? I thought I warned you."

"We broke up, Nimrod. I'm enjoying prom, without you."

Andy turned red. "So you wanna spend the night alone, eh? Fine. I'll be here when you get bored."

"Oh, I didn't come alone," smirked Brenda.

Andy literally bellowed. "Where's the dead man? Where is he?" He balled his hands into fists. I was glad Brenda hadn't let me come as Robert, that would have been deadly.

Brenda smiled sweetly. "Right here. Andy, this is my date, Roberta. Roberta, Andy."

"Charmed, I'm sure," I managed to stammer, appearing more confident then I felt.

Andy stood there for a few seconds, trying to decide if we were joking. Roberta linked her arm with mine. "Come, Roberta, let's get a table."

"What the hell!" screamed Andy. "Are you some kinda lesbo freak?" He was furious.

"No, I just wanted to go to prom with someone nice. And a better dancer, I might add."

Brenda apparently thought that would be the end of things, but she was wrong. With bruising pressure, Andy grabbed both of us by the arm. "You sick perverts! I ought to slap some sense into both of you!" I looked to Brenda for help, but she was petrified. Andy's jealousy was obviously much more intense than she had anticipated.

"I ought to take the both of you and show you what it's like to have a real man!" Oh dear, God, this wasn't happening.

"I'm getting a teacher!" screamed one of Brenda's friends.

At that moment, I was aware of a large presence behind us. Andy looked up at something over our shoulders and released Brenda and myself. We rubbed our arms, painfully, then turned and looked.

Two big high school guys were standing behind us. One was quite handsome, he reminded me a bit of George Clooney. He was tall, his tux was neat, and he had an easy smile. His good looks were marred slightly by a butterfly bandage across the bridge of his nose.

Next to him stood a guy who appeared to belong in the 'assent of man' exhibit at the museum. He was a huge barrel chested guy, whose arms seems just slightly longer than his legs. I got the impression it took conscious mental effort for him to stand on only two feet. His tux was too small; his hairy wrists poked a good length out of his sleeves. His brow was large and bony, and a missing front tooth completed his simian appearance.

"What's up?" smiled the handsome guy. "Andy, the way you were hollering, you would have thought they'd canceled the Flintstones."

Andy shook with rage. "I'll tell you what's up, Gabe! Brenda shows up to prom with another chick! She's turning into some kind of faggot sicko!"

Gabe, the good-looking guy, chuckled. "Just like on Jerry Springer, eh Jay?" he nudged his ape-like companion, who grunted.

"I'm not about to let my girlfriend go to a dance with some lesbian slut!" barked Andy.

"Now hold on there, slick," said Gabe. "I seem to recall her dumping you a while back. I think you need to back off, just a bit."

"Who's gonna make me?"

Gabe continued to look Andy in the eye. He was still smiling with his mouth, but no longer with his eyes. Jay cracked his knuckles. It sounded like a string of firecrackers going off. "Maybe you ought to go on inside," suggested Gabe, coldly.

Andy vacillated for minute, wondering if taking on the two big guys was worth it. It wasn't. He stormed off in the direction of the parking lot. "You'll come crawling back!" he screamed back at Brenda.

We let a collective sigh of relief. "You were fantastic," gushed Brenda. I turned around to thank her and realized that she wasn't talking to me. She was talking to Gabe.

"It was nothing," he humbly replied. "Now why don't we all go inside?" Brenda smiled at him sweetly. I followed alongside Jay's hulking frame. I burned with humiliation and anger. Here I am, prom night, dressed in a gown and heels, and Brenda's gushing over another guy! Maybe he did drive Andy off, but I was the one making the big sacrifice.

We entered the crepe paper festooned gymnasium. Much to my annoyance, Gabe and Jay joined us at our table. Soon everyone was talking and laughing. Everyone except me, that is. It seems Brenda had practically forgotten that I was her date. It was just as I feared; here were two guys, football players no less, stealing Brenda away from me, right under my nose. And I could do nothing about it! Even though Brenda was supposed to be my date, I couldn't act jealous, not without making Brenda look like a homosexual.

The worst humiliation was yet to come. I had assumed that Brenda would at least dance with me. No such luck. As soon as a slow number started, Jay asked, in a series of barely coherent monosyllables, if Brenda would like to dance. Foolish me, I had expected her to protest. Nope, without so much as a look in my direction, they were out on the dance floor.

I wanted the evening to be over. How could Brenda do this to me? Convince me to become Roberta, then waltz off with another guy! I winced when I heard her giggling at something Jay had said. Accounts of the latest mammoth hunt, no doubt.

I became uncomfortably aware that Gabe and I were alone at the table together. Poor guy, he had probably hoped to dance with Brenda, only to have his friend beat him to the punch. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I asked him a bit about himself.

He was seventeen, like myself, and a football player of course. Not egotistical, he kept trying to turn the conversation to things about me. I quickly demurred; Roberta didn't actually exist.

"So," he said, apropos of nothing, "would you like to dance?" I was too stunned to reply. Just when I thought the evening couldn't possibly get any worse, just when I'm at my lowest peak, sitting there in a prom dress and heels with my date dancing with another guy, this happens!

"Oh, you don't have to do that," I joked, praying he had only asked out of pity for me.

"No problem," he grinned. He stood up and offered me his hand. Not tonight, buddy.

"No thanks, I don't feel like it."

"C'mon, it's prom night. You have to dance."

"I said I don't feel like it." Embarrassed, Gabe sat down again. Conversation died.

As the night wore on, I began to feel sorry for Gabe as well as myself. He had just risked a fight with Andy to protect us, and I wouldn't even dance with him. Well, his tough luck. I already had a date. Of course, she hadn't even looked in my direction for half an hour. She hadn't even noticed me

I looked over at Gabe, who looked terribly bored. Maybe if we danced, Brenda would get jealous.

I waited until the DJ played a fast number, one that we couldn't possibly slow dance to. Then I stood up. "Let's go," I said.

I refused to let him take my hand as we entered the dance floor. Since the music was so fast he had no call to touch me, and soon we were tearing it up. I was never the greatest dancer, but I managed to move in time to the beat, more or less. Standing a couple of feet in front of Gabe, it wasn't hard to imagine that we weren't even partners. Before I knew it, we'd been dancing about an hour.

In spite of myself, I was having an OK time. Every slow number, I'd sit out. Gabe danced with a couple of his friends, I turned down a couple of offers to dance from other boys, much to my chagrin. I lost track of time and was surprised when the DJ announced the last dance of the evening.

This was it. If I were to get in one dance with Brenda, it had to be now. I gazed across the gym till I saw her. Much to my horror, she was in Jay's arms. And her head was resting on his shoulder. My fury was absolute.

"Shall we?" Gabe had snuck up on me. I was too pissed to say no. He gingerly placed his hands on my hips, I placed my hands on his neck. I'd be damned if I was going to sit out the last dance. I'd give Brenda a piece of my mind after this. Not a chance in hell I'd ever want to see her again.

"Mind if I cut in?" It was Brenda. She looked at us shyly. My blood boiled. After everything she put me through, now she wants to dance with Gabe as well? Just to make sure I see her with not one, but two guys?

Gabe shrugged, and moved towards Brenda. "Nope," she smiled. "I figure I should get the last dance with the person I came with." She gently took my hands in hers.

I guess my shock showed. "So who should lead?" Brenda giggled. Logically, it should have been me; I was the true man. But of course, Brenda led. Why shouldn't she have? She controlled everything else in the relationship.

Just when it seemed my date had actually remembered me, it was over. The DJ thanked everyone, and the house lights went on. Couples began straggling towards the door.

I had hoped something of the evening could be salvaged. I had fed my mother a line of bull about spending the night with a friend (good thing she never asked to meet these imaginary friends). Brenda and I could be together all night. Maybe I could count on some alone time.

Nope. Gabe and Jay insisted on escorting us out into the parking lot. I kept my arms tight against my body so that Gabe couldn't take my arm.

"Well, ladies, the night is young," said Gabe in his suave voice. "What say we have a late night snack?"

I swear Brenda was going to agree. I know she was opening her mouth to say yes. It was at that time I took my only stand of the evening.

"No, I'm sorry, we can't," I stated firmly. "It's almost my curfew." Then I quickly added "and Brenda's my ride." At this point, I didn't know if I could count on Brenda not to ditch me for her handsome friends.

"Um, yeah, we have to go." Brenda sounded almost regretful.

"Too bad," said Jay, his longest sentence of the evening.

"Well, Red," said Gabe, looking at me, "I really enjoyed myself." Red? He's trying to give me a cute nickname now? Oh God, how I wanted to go home. Then I saw something that made me realize that I would be dumping Brenda as soon as we were in private. She was kissing Jay!

Not with tongue, but she was kissing him! My own date, kissing another guy. I started to head for the car. Gabe blocked my way.

Now that I play the scene back in my mind, it seems like there was so much I could have done to prevent it. I could have jumped back, or ducked, or slapped his face, or anything. But I froze. Who could blame me, it's not like a boy had ever tried to kiss me before.

It was over before it began. His face moved in, our lips touched, he backed off. And my life would never be the same. Till the day I died, I could never erase the fact that I had kissed another guy.

It took all my self-control to compose myself. Wordlessly, I got in Brenda's car, ignoring Gabe calling "Maybe I could call you some time?"

When Brenda slid into the driver's seat, I expected her to say something. Anything. Sorry for abandoning me, sorry for making me dress like that, thanks for my patience, something! But she was silent. She simply smiled all the way home, humming one of the songs she had danced with Jay to.

It was only when we pulled into her garage that the realized I had kept a stony silence the whole way home. "Roberta, honey, is something wrong?"

I was so mad, I could barely get the words out. "Something wrong? I don't know, let me see. You force me to dress up like a girl, parade me around in front of your friends, I nearly get my face bashed in by your ex, and then, after that, you spend the whole evening with another guy! Yeah, I guess something is wrong!" I didn't even mention getting kissed by Gabe; some things are too humiliating for words.

"But Roberta," protested Brenda, "I had to dance with Jay. I mean, he really helped us out there! I couldn't deny him a dance."

"A dance, sure. But did you have to spend the whole evening with him?"

"Well, I kind of lost track of time. And then you seemed to be having so much fun dancing with Gabe..."

I was so furious I wanted to smash something. "I was dancing with Gabe so I wouldn't have to spend the whole night watching my date dance with someone else. Thanks for penciling me in for the last five minutes of prom. I'm going to change back into my boy clothes, then I'm calling a cab. Goodbye forever." I meant it too.

Brenda looked stunned, then scared. "I'm sorry Roberta...I mean Robert. I guess when it came down to it, I was afraid what people would think if I danced the whole night with a woman."

"And you didn't stop to think how I'd feel, getting dressed up like a girl and then ignored?"

Brenda touched my cheek. "I guess I didn't think. I guess I wouldn't blame you for dumping me."

"Is that what you want?" I was still angry, but I wasn't sure I was ready to walk out on her anymore.

"No. That is exactly what I DON'T want. I've had so much fun with you all this time, honey. I didn't realize it at first, but you're everything I want in a relationship. If you feel like leaving, I suppose I deserve it, but I'll still be here waiting if you change your mind." Brenda placed her arm around my bare neck. Soon we were kissing.

Just as my hand started to play with the zipper down the back of her dress, she pulled away. "I have a surprise for you," she smiled.

"What kind of surprise?" I asked, remembering what she had said about the hot tub earlier.

"Come on inside. I'm going to change first. Your surprise is in the hall bathroom, under the sink."

As Brenda disappeared into her room, I slunk into the bathroom. What kind of surprise would it be? I eagerly threw open the cabinet under the sink. There I found a beribboned box. With no time to lose, I tore it open.

Inside was the silkiest, laciest, more feminine nightie I had ever seen. It would leave almost nothing to the imagination. My sequestered manhood began to strain against the rubber panties. Brenda obviously intended to wear this for me! And, I supposed, take it off for me as well! Tonight I would become a man. To think I ever thought about breaking it off with her!

Still in my gown, I dashed over to her room. I'd give her the nightie to slip into, then I'd begin the arduous process of removing my makeup, nail polish, and fake breasts. Gently, I knocked on her door.

"Enter," she whispered, sensuously. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened bedroom, they nearly popped out of my head. Brenda lay dreamily on her wide bed. She was wearing her earrings, her panties, and not a stitch more. She dreamily ran her red nails over her bare side.

Nothing else existed for me at that moment. I forgot about my dress, or the lacy garment that Brenda was going to put on for me. All I could think about was touching my dream girl. But when I moved toward her, she motioned for me to halt.

"Not one step closer until you put that on," she said, gesturing to the skimpy lingerie I was holding.

I was flabbergasted. "But I thought I thought this was for you!" I whined.

"Nope. Roberta was my date for prom, and I'd really like to see her in that."

"Aren't we carrying this a bit too far?"

"If you don't want to play by my rules, Roberta, then that's your choice." She gestured to the Monopoly board on her table. "I'll let you be the Scottie dog."

She had to be bluffing. Prom was one thing, but this? I moved toward her. Wordlessly, she picked up her bra and began to put it back on.

What could I do? After everything I had already done this evening, I wasn't about to stay a virgin just because I wouldn't wear some lingerie. "I'll be right back," I gasped, then ran off to the bathroom.

Yes, I knew what a sissy I'd be by doing this, but after prom, it's not like I had much pride left. The thought of actually touching Brenda's body made every other thought slip away. Quickly I removed my dress and hung it up. With great happiness I removed my heels and nylons. I ripped off the rubber panties and tossed them in the garbage. I wanted to remove my fake breasts as well, but that required alcohol and I didn't want to waste time looking for some. I slipped myself into the feminine lace and looked in the mirror. My wig and makeup were still perfect. Only a slight bulge at the crotch and a thin seam where my boobs attached gave me away. I sauntered into Brenda's room.

"Oh Roberta, you look so darling. Come here, honey. Come here and let me hold you." And now, dear reader, the rest I leave to your imagination.

Part Two: A Different Kind of Coed

And so the school year drew to a close. Brenda, true to her word, never mentioned prom again. She happily introduced me to her friends as her boyfriend. I was on cloud nine. Nothing could stand in our way now, she hadn't heard from Andy since prom. I should have been happy, but

But we were out of high school now. Brenda, with her great grades, extra-curricular activities, and volunteer work had no trouble securing scholarships. I, on the other hand, was in a world of hurt. My grades were good enough to get into college, but not quite good enough for anyone to want to send me for free. I hadn't excelled in any sports, and I wasn't president of any clubs. I was poor, but not quite poor enough to get a grant in that respect. My only option was to get a student loan. But I couldn't.

I wanted to open up a small business when I graduated, I felt that's something I could excel in. But that required a MBA, which would require six or seven years of college. And when I finished with that, I'd need a loan to get the business off the ground. With all that borrowing money, I'd be fifty before I was out of debt. Better I start working now and pay for school up front.

But there was Brenda. She had always wanted to study law. And she had just been accepted into an excellent pre-law program in Washington State. It was too good an opportunity for her to miss. And it was on the other side of the country.

Brenda seemed as heartbroken as I was. "Why don't you come with me?" she asked, the day she found out about her scholarship. "Just work in Washington, in a few years you can start school."

"I can't, honey. Here I can live at home, free food, rent. There every cent I earned would go to living expenses. And I can't live with you in the dorms, can I?"

"Then I'll get an apartment. I'll buy your food, give you some spending money " she stopped short, realizing how condescending that sounded.

"Listen, Brenda. I'm going to bust my butt for the next couple of years until I can get into school. I'll make it there."

"And we'll just be apart all that time? I don't think so!" For a second I thought she was going to break it off with me. But I had underestimated her.

"Robert, I don't need to go all the way to Washington. I can go to the community college."

Now it was my turn to get angry. "You are not going to throw away your dreams on account of me! An opportunity like yours doesn't come along every day."

Brenda put her arm around me. "A guy like you doesn't come around every day, either. Just hang tight, Robert. I'm going to figure out a way to take you with me." Then she shut me up with a kiss.

Just when it seemed that Brenda was going to leave me, she shanghaied me on the street and drove me to her house. "I have some incredible news, Robert! I've been researching some scholarships for you. Guess what? I applied for one in your name, and you've been accepted!"

It would have been appropriate had a choir of angels descended from the heavens singing 'alleluia,' but I was happy enough as it was. "You're kidding! I thought I went through the scholarship book cover to cover!"

"I know a trick or two. You've got a full ride. Just maintain a B average and don't get into trouble."

"Brenda, I don't know how I can ever think you."

"Um, you might want to hold off on that."

"Why?" We had reached her house.

"Come inside, Robert. There's something I need to tell you about this scholarship. Something not so good."

I felt nervous. "What?" I asked, when we were in her bedroom. "Will I have to work in the dining hall or something? No problem." Brenda looked grim.

"Robert, have you ever heard of the Virginia H. Booth Memorial Fund?" I shook my head.

"Once a year, the university gives it to a young woman."

It all came clear. "You have got to be joking!"

"Listen. Full ride, no questions, no strings but you'd have to, um, play the part."

"Play the part?"

"Be Roberta full time, for four years."

"Brenda, what is with you and making me a sissy? I'm sorry, no scholarship is worth that. Nothing is worth that!"

"Including me?" I looked at my girlfriend. She looked like she was about to cry. She grabbed me by the arms so hard it hurt. "Robert, I'm not losing you. Not for college, not for anything."

"Calm down, Brenda."

"Calm down? The hell I will! You're the only man I've ever loved! Do you love me, Robert?"

"You know I do."

"Then what more do we need?" She laughed, a high pitched, crazy sounding laugh. "Can't you just pretend for a few years? Aren't I worth that?"

"Brenda, it's not about you."

"Then here's the deal, Robert. If I can't take you with me, I'm staying here with you."

That frightened me. "And do what? Work at the mall? Take night school classes? Is that what you want?"

"I want you! Either come with me or I stay!"

I began to fear Brenda would do something crazy. "Brenda, let's say, just for a moment, I went with you. What would it involve?"

"You'd live as a woman, full time. You'd dress like Roberta, go to class like Roberta, become Roberta."

"Easy for you to say. What's in it for me?"

"A college education. And me. Is that worth anything to you?" She started to cry. Not bawling, just tears streaming down her face.

"Brenda, don't do that."

"We'll even room together!" she said, desperately. "People with think we're friends, only you and I will know the truth! Say yes."

"But what will my mom say?"

"She won't know! When she visits you can dress as Robert and pretend to be living with a male friend. I'm sure we'll meet someone who will help us out."

"What if she stops by unannounced?"

"She lives so far away she probably won't visit more that a couple of times a year. And would she risk flying all the way out and missing you because you went for coffee? Trust me, she'll always call ahead."

My head ached. "I'll do it, Robert," Brenda persisted. "I'll drop out today if you want me to."

"I don't want that."

"Then you'll come with me?"

"I didn't say that."

"One or the other. Be Roberta or I quit school. Or dump me, if that's what you want."

None of the choices appealed to me, but I wasn't about to lose Brenda or ruin her life. "OK. I'll do it. But I'm only agreeing to a year. After that maybe we can figure something else out."

Brenda laid her head on my shoulder and I hugged her while she wept.

That's how I found myself entering my new college dorm wearing another navel baring shirt, short shorts, and heels. Brenda had spent the summer shopping for new clothes for me. I now had enough hose, skirts, dresses, and jewelry to last me through the next millennium. I left home a few days before I was supposed to arrive at college, just so I could spend a weekend at Brenda's house, getting all made up.

"This is going to be for a lot longer than one night, so you really have to look the part," said Brenda as she gave me my umpteenth makeup lesson. "I'm not going to be able to do this for you, so you might as well learn now." After many hours under the makeup lights, a thousand changes of clothes, and two industrial sized cans of hair remover, Brenda pronounced me pretty enough to go out in public.

Up until the moment we arrived Brenda continued placing 'finishing touches' on me. She had forced me to grow my hair longer so she could teach me how to style it like a girl's. She treated me to a full body wax at Mary Ann's salon. And the very last day before we left for Washington, she made me get my ears pierced.

So now we stood, taking in the small dorm that would be our home for the next year, at least. It wasn't much to look at, just two desks, two closets, and two twin beds. "We'll have to push those together at night," giggled Brenda. One bonus of this room was it had a private bathroom. I wouldn't have to worry about someone seeing me in the shower.

"Brenda, why am I doing this?"

She took my hand. "Nervous?"

I nodded. "I had to lie to my mother; she things I'm off pledging a frat somewhere. Everyone around me thinks I'm a girl. Do you really want a boyfriend who shares his earrings with you?" My new role in life obviously hadn't done much for my low self-image.

Brenda kissed me. "You're the boyfriend I want. I don't care about anything else. With you by my side then I can't think of a single other thing I want out of life." She started to kiss me again, but there was a knock at our door.

I opened the door and shrieked. There stood Crystal, Mary Ann's buxom son. "Hi stranger," he smiled.

Crystal obviously hadn't gone through with his vow to return to manhood before college. If anything, he looked more girlish than before. He had lost some weight, making him look less girlish and more womanly. He must have still been taking the hormones; the low-cut shirt he was wearing showed off a great deal of cleavage. He was the very picture of a pretty young coed.

I grabbed him by his hand and yanked him inside. "Crystal! My goodness, I certainly never expected to see you here!"

"I could say the same for you! What happened to 'this is just for prom night'?"

Brenda brought Crystal up to speed about my monetary troubles and our solution. "So how about you?" she continued. "I thought you were just trying to help out around the beauty salon."

Crystal smiled coyly. "I know. I always figured I'd become Christopher again before I went off to school, but I kept putting it off. Finally, the application deadlines had arrived, and I was still using the girl's locker room. I guess it won't kill me to experience my freshman year as Crystal."

"What did your mother say?" I asked.

"She told me not to break too many hearts." Crystal was lucky he didn't have to explain things to her mom. I knew mine wouldn't be that understanding if she found out.

Soon we were all giggling and catching up on old times. Crystal, much to our disappointment, wasn't living in the dorms, but a small apartment off of campus. He promised he'd get together with us every day.

With Crystal's help, Brenda and I began unpacking our things. "So, Roberta," quipped Crystal as he put away some of my lingerie. "Is this the college experience you dreamed of?"

I reddened. "The part about living in the girl's dorms wasn't in my plans. But dating a beautiful woman was always the dream." Brenda winked at me.

Crystal excused himself to go to the bathroom and touch up his makeup. When I was certain he couldn't hear us, I turned to Brenda.

"You don't think that could happen to me, do you?"

"What?"

"Start thinking like a girl like Crystal does?"

Brenda laughed. "Crystal obviously was thinking like a girl for a long time. He loves it, he wouldn't do it otherwise. You, you just want to be able to shower with me in the morning."

There was another rap on the door. Brenda shouted 'Come in.'

In walked a very handsome young man. He was tall, blonde, well proportioned, and carried a clipboard. His good looks were marred by one thing: he only had one arm. His left one was missing just below the shoulder. His shirt sleeve was pinned shut, I tried to keep myself from looking at his amputation.

"Hello ladies. You must be Brenda and Roberta," he said, checking his clipboard. "My name's Chett Rogers. I'm the student advisor for this group of residence halls."

"I'm very pleased to meet you," said Brenda, gently shaking his hand. I instantly felt jealous. I think Brenda sensed it because she immediately backed off. "And this is my friend, Roberta." Chett shook my hand.

"Well ladies, I'll leave you to your unpacking. Just wanted to let you know that I live in room one in the men's dorm across the way. Just stop by if you have any questions or problems."

Before we could answer, Crystal came out of the bathroom. He stopped short when he saw Chett. They both blinked and stared at each other for a couple of seconds.

"Um, hi, um, I'm Chett," stammered the student advisor, suddenly much less poised than he had been a few seconds ago.

"I'm Crystal," he replied. They shook hands and seemed to hold on just a little bit longer than custom dictated.

"I'm the student advisor," continued Chett, self-consciously. "Do you live in the dorms?"

"No, I don't," replied Crystal, seemingly disappointed at the fact. Brenda and I commenced to snickering under our breaths. They liked each other!

Chett seemed at a loss for something to say, but didn't seem eager to leave, either. He leaned against a desk, slipped, and dropped his papers all over the floor. His lack of a second hand caused him a bit of difficulty getting things squared away. I bent over to help him and was nearly bowled over by Crystal rushing to help him first.

"I'm almost done here," said Chett, regaining his composure. "Would you, um, like to grab a cup of coffee or something?"

"I'd love to," said Crystal, before he had finished the question. They left without saying goodbye.

"Oh, that is so cute!" squealed Brenda.

"I'm not so sure," I answered.

"What do you mean? They make a nice couple."

"They might think so. But Chett has no idea of Crystal's secret."

Brenda paused. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I just hope he's careful. If Crystal gets in too deep with that guy, or any guy, he could find himself in a lot of trouble."

A month had passed. My first month in college, and more importantly, my first month living full time as Roberta. While I never truly got used to the idea, I have to say I grew more accustomed to it. One of the hardest things about it was getting ready in the morning.

Like most guys, I had been used to just flopping from the bed to the shower, then out of the shower to getting dressed and leaving. Not any more.

First, I had to spend about twice a long in the shower as I had before. Now that my hair was long, it too much longer to wash. Then there was the matter of shaving my legs and armpits. I found this chore particularly odious. True, many women nowadays opt for the 'natural' look, but I wasn't about to do anything that would make anyone suspect I was really a guy. My legs were smooth every day.

Then came the hair. For the first week of school, Brenda forced me to practice doing my hair an hour every night until at last she agreed I knew what I was doing. Soon I was a bit on an expert on women's hair styling. Sometimes I would even do Brenda's hair.

Next came the makeup. Brenda experimented on me for hours until she found the perfect colors for my pale, freckled complexion. Eyeliner, lipstick, and mascara were all part of my daily routine.

The hardest part was picking out my clothes. I had no sense of fashion, so I relied on Brenda to pick things out for me. Of course, this meant the most feminine things she could possibly find. My rubber sex-hiding device worked overtime, scrunching me into those tight jeans. I found myself doing sit ups every night, since nearly every outfit I owned showed of my tummy. Not shaving for a day wasn't an option, not with all those sleeveless shirts Brenda made me wear. And of course, I barely remembered what a pair of flats looked like.

But it was all worth it. At night, when Brenda would step out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her underwear, the way she bought us matching lingerie, waking up in her arms--I would have done anything for her.

One afternoon, as we sat in the student union studying, I noticed Brenda smiling at me in an odd way. "What?" I asked, looking up from my book.

"There's a couple of guys over there. I think they're giving us the eye. Oh my God, here they come!"" I froze. How I hated all the extra attention I got from men!

I remember very little about this pair, other than they were obviously interested in Brenda and myself. They introduced themselves. "Hello," said Brenda. "I'm Brenda." I seethed internally. Why did she have to be such a flirt? I never expected her to cheat on me, but she always seemed so ready to invite interested men over to talk to us. I was about to get up and leave when Brenda spoke again. "And this is Roberta. My girlfriend." There was a long pause. Had I heard her correctly?

The guys suddenly found they had something else to do and left in a hurry. I grabbed Brenda by the arm. "Did you mean to say that?" I asked, both shocked and delighted.

"Of course. I've been thinking about all the sacrifices you've made to be with me. You're the one who has to live as someone else. The least I can do is let the world know how much I love you. It might keep the guys away from you, at any rate."

"But Brenda, what will people think?"

"They'll think that we're in love. And it's the truth, isn't it?"

"But won't you be embarrassed?"

"Of you? Not in a million years." She then kissed me, in full view of the student union.

I quickly learned that there is a difference in the way society sees male and female homosexuals. While gay men still bear the brunt of societies prejudices and fears, lesbians are looked upon more as a novelty. When Brenda started introducing us a couple, we got a lot of surprised (and sometimes ignorant) responses, but very little wrath. Still, I would have much rather been a normal couple.

Crystal hung out with us quite a bit. Unlike me, Crystal rarely, if ever mentioned his true gender. He honestly seemed to want us to pretend he was a normal eighteen-year-old girl. Brenda and I never said anything to the contrary.

Crystal and Chett, the one-armed student advisor, had hit it off right away. "He's such a sweetie," Crystal told us after their first 'date' together. "He's smart, funny, and so cute!"

"So," asked Brenda, "did you kiss?"

Crystal blushed. A few days later I caught them sitting in a bench on the quad, most definitely kissing (and then some!). I felt I had to say something.

"Crystal," I ventured, when we were alone together. "What's up with you and Chett?"

"I think he likes me," giggled Crystal.

"That's an understatement. So ?"

"So what?"

"So have you told him?"

"About what?" asked Crystal, with an expression that showed he knew exactly what.

"About the true state of things."

Crystal got up and began pacing. Without looking at me, he spoke. "What do you have to bring that up?"

"Because I'm worried about you." I placed my hands on his shoulders.

"I'll be fine. We're just dating."

"He has a right to know. The longer you carry this on, the worse things will be when he finds out."

He turned to me. "We're just dating. I'm not going to marry him!"

"True. But can you honestly say you're being fair with him?"

Tears streamed down Crystal's cheeks. "What's wrong with me? Just a few years ago I was a teenage boy! Now look at me!" His curvy frame and well made up face did little to suggest masculinity.

"Crystal, do you enjoy being a girl?" Crystal hung his head.

"I don't know. But the longer I do it, the longer I want to do it. Maybe I should just drop out of school and change back to Christopher."

"Do you want that?" He shook his head.

"Then don't. I only became Roberta because I was afraid of losing Brenda. I think you became Crystal because you're pretty damn good at it."

Crystal smiled at me. "You really think so?"

I pulled him over to the mirror. "Tell me you don't see a sexy young girl there."

"Nope," replied Crystal, "I see two." I ducked away, ashamed.

"So, what do you plan to do?" I asked Crystal.

"I don't know. You really think it's unfair for me to keep dating Chett, don't you?"

"It's unfair to both of you."

Crystal sat down on my bed. "Look. Chett seems like a confident guy, but It's only been a year since he lost his arm. Drunk driver. He was engaged at the time and she dumped him. Instead of being there when he needed her, she just returned the ring and never looked back.

"He needs me, Roberta. I can't leave him now. He's hurting inside, and I think I'm helping him. I can't dump him."

I sat down next to Crystal and put my arm around his shoulder. "It's your choice. Just be careful."

That night, Brenda and I lay in bed in each other's arms. I enjoyed the feel of my girlfriend next to me. When we made love, it was the only time I felt even slightly manly. Tired and spent, we caressed each other and talked.

"My parents called today," mentioned Brenda. "They wanted to know how I was getting along with my roommate."

"So what did you tell them?"

"That we were closer than sisters." We both giggled. Then I winced.

"Something wrong, Roberta?"

"It's my back. I think I overdid it at the gym today." Staying skinny had recently become an obsession with me; a beer gut would give me away in a second.

"Turn over." Brenda began to rub my naked back.

"You know," she continued, "you should take some vitamins." She kneaded my flesh. "I picked some up today, why don't you take some?" I consented, not really thinking about it. Brenda gave me two tablets with a glass of water, and insisted that I take them every day.

Chett was surprised when he learned that Brenda and I were more than roommates, but he ensured us that he was a 'modern type of guy' and he wouldn't think of us any differently. I wondered. The number of guys who had crassly asked me if they could watch Brenda and I make out (or more) left me wondering if every man didn't harbor some kind of woman on woman fantasy.

At any rate, Brenda, Chett, Crystal, and myself started spending a lot of time together. It was sort of like double dating, but sort of not. Looking back, we certainly were an odd menagerie: me, pretending to be a girl, Brenda, pretending to be a lesbian, Crystal, pretending to be a girl as well, and Chett, thinking he was dating a woman. If Chett was sensitive about his missing arm, he had no idea that he was the most normal person in our group.

I never tried to urge Crystal to tell Chett the truth again. But I continued to hope that he would make a clean breast of it. The longer they stayed together, the deeper their feelings would be for each other. And I didn't think Chett would be too happy if and when he found out about things.

It all came to a head one October afternoon. We were going over to Crystal's apartment to barbecue for the last time that year. He had a little grill set up on his back patio, it was usually a lot of fun. But when Brenda and I arrived we could hear Chett and Crystal yelling before we rounded the corner.

"No, I don't understand!" shouted Chett. "We were doing so well, why do you want to end things all of a sudden?"

Crystal seemed heartbroken. "I don't want to. I just have to."

"You just have to? Sorry, you'll have to do better than that." Brenda and I stood at the side of the building, wondering weather or not to announce our presence. We were obviously hearing something private, but we were also expected.

Crystal continued. "I like you, Chett, but things are getting too serious. I want you to back off."

"Is it someone else?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Is it because of my arm?" Crystal was right, he was awfully paranoid about that.

"Chett, of course not!"

"What else could it be? You just must have gotten tired of dating a freak!"

"Chett, stop it!"

"You wanna leave me? Fine, everyone else does. But don't think I'm some sort of mutant! I'm a man, damn it!"

"So am I!" I ventured a peek around the corner, to see how Chett had taken the unexpected confession. He stood there, stunned, half-expecting Crystal to be joking. Crystal, facing in my direction, saw me.

"Brenda, Roberta, would you mind taking a rain check on dinner? We have to discuss some things."

Brenda and I retreated back to the dorm. "What do you think is going to happen?" I asked Brenda.

"I don't know. I'm sure Chett never expected that."

"You don't think he'll get violent, do you?"

"I doubt it. But now that he knows he's been making out with a man for two months, he's not going to be happy."

"What should we do?"

"Wait. Say, Roberta, you don't look so good."

I was rubbing my belly. "It's my stomach. It hurts. I feel all bulky."

"You're just retaining water," joked Brenda.

"Very funny." Still, what she said wasn't far from the truth. I did feel fatter. I had gained weight in my hips and chest. I had to start exercising more.

A few hours later we got a phone call. "It's Crystal," said the voice on the other end. "Could you come over?"

Brenda and I hurried over. Crystal breathlessly answered the door. "It's going to be OK," he told us, before we even had a chance to sit down. "Chett understood. He was shocked, but he wasn't angry."

"That's great news!" I said, hugging him.

"Um I guess."

"What's wrong?" I asked, on my guard.

"Roberta, I'm sorry. But when I was telling him about me I let it slip about you, too."

I was horrified. "You had no right!" I snapped.

"Please don't be mad. I didn't want him to think I was some kind of freak. He really took it well. I think he was more relieved that this wasn't about his arm."

"You promise he can keep a secret?"

"He won't tell."

"You can't be sure!"

"Would you like to hear it from him? Give him a call."

Wordlessly, I dialed his number.

"Hello, Chett?"

"Ah, Roberta, I wanted to talk to you."

"Yes. Chett, you recently heard something about me "

"Roberta, please don't worry. Crystal explained everything. I swear, that's a secret that will die with me."

"You mean it? I can't live my life wondering if anyone will find out "

"I swear. I won't tell anyone about you. Or Brenda for that matter."

"About Brenda? What about Brenda?"

"You know that she's secretly a guy, like you and Crystal."

"She's...?" I paused. "I appreciate that, Chett. Talk to you later."

"What did he say?" asked Brenda.

"He said he would never tell anyone that the three of us are really men."

"That great...what? What did you say?"

"He wouldn't tell anyone that we were really three guys."

Brenda looked at Crystal in horror. "What did you tell him?"

"Well," Crystal smiled, slyly. "When I told him about Roberta, I felt so guilty. I decided to tell him the same thing about you so he'd realize it wasn't such an odd practice." I was trying not to laugh by this time.

"How dare you!"

"It was an accident. Trust me, he won't think less of you."

"That's not the point! How can I let someone think that I'm some kind of some kind of..." Brenda became aware that we were looking at her very pointedly.

"Some kind of what?" I asked.

"I mean, I don't want him to think that I'm a...um I mean, how would you like it..." she petered off. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't be an insult to the both of us.

I put my arm around Brenda. "Lighten up, hon. Welcome to the club!"

Brenda sat down and sulked. I ignored her. "So Crystal," I continued. "Now that Chett knows your secret, are you two still going to date?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. He was happy that I didn't dump him because I thought he was unappealing, but he won't take me back. Having a male girlfriend was more than he could take."

That night, I lay alone in my bed. Brenda had made no pretense of joining me. I wondered how long she'd give me the silent treatment.

"Hey Brenda," I said with an evil smile, "what's wrong? Jock itch? Or did the Rams loose again?"

Brenda responded by creaming me with a pillow. "That's not funny, you jerk!"

"I think it is. Now you have a slight idea about how I feel."

"At least you're supposed to feel like a guy in a dress! I am a girl!"

"I'd appreciate it if you would remember exactly why I'm dressed like a girl." Brenda shot a pathetic look in my direction. I pressed on.

"I gave up my gender to be with you."

"Can't we just tell the truth to Chett?"

"Nope. If he realizes you aren't a guy, he might suspect the same thing about me and Crystal. Then Crystal would be back to square one with him. You're going to have to live with it."

I got up and put my arms around Brenda. She still wouldn't face me. "C'mon honey. For me?" She looked at me grimly, then smiled in spite of herself.

"For you." We kissed, then helped each other off with our clothes.

In the sweaty aftermath, I looked down at my body. Brenda noticed and asked me what was up.

"Living as a woman is starting to mess with my head. I feel like I look girlie, even when I'm naked."

"How so?"

"Well, my skin seems a lot smoother, for one. And my hips are bigger. And my nipples, they seem bigger, as well. And..." I paused.

"Robert, Jr?" asked Brenda.

"So you noticed. I had a real hard time getting it up tonight. I'm sorry honey."

Brenda kissed me. "Shut up. I'm sure it's nothing, you're just getting into your role. If it would help, we can make love like women from now on. With our mouths." Brenda began kissing me on my chest. My extra-sensitive nipples felt like they were going to burst. Why should that be? I put the thought aside and just enjoyed Brenda's touch.

A few weeks later, Crystal held a party at his apartment. About fifty people showed up. Crystal had become quite popular on campus. I'm sure none of his new friends suspected that he was really a man.

Midway through the festivities, I sat on a couch. I hadn't been feeling well lately. I felt all weak and fragile. But at the same time, I was gaining weight, especially in my chest. I'd been exercising like nuts but still hadn't managed to shed my excess poundage.

"Hey, wanna dance?" Jesus, not again. I had grown to hate parties, seems like every guy and his brother wanted to 'get to know me.'

"I'll have to ask my girlfriend," I smiled back at him, looking over at Brenda in a meaningful way. He backed off, just like every other guy who realized there was no chance of me sleeping with him. Not feeling like fending anyone else off, I joined Brenda.

She was deep in conversation with a very inebriated Chett. "You don't understand," she insisted. "I'm not really a guy."

Chett hiccuped. "I understand. Gender is all in the mind. You're whatever sex you believe yourself to be."

"No, I mean, I was born a woman!"

"And I was born a man. You live how you want to live, you don't owe me any explanations." He swerved off to join some friends.

I tapped Brenda on the shoulder. She squirmed, caught in the act. "It really chaps your ass that Chett thinks you're a man, doesn't it?" I asked as we sat down.

"Yes, it does. I know that may insult you, but I can't help it. I'm sorry honey, but I can't stand being thought of as a male, for any reason, by anyone."

"You're nearly ask crazy as I am. Want to dance?"

The party ended several hours after midnight. Brenda had ridden back to the dorm with another friend, I had stayed until the end. Now, the only ones left were me, Crystal, and Chett, who was passed out drunk on the couch.

"What a mess!" sighed Crystal, looking at the wreckage of his apartment.

"I'll help you clean up."

"No, you get on home. I'll take care of it in the morning."

"So what are you going to do about him?" I gestured to Chett, flat on his back with his one arm draped over his face. "Stick him in a cab?"

"Not in that state." Crystal gingerly removed Chett's shoes, then draped a blanket over him. When he thought I wasn't looking, he bent over and kissed Chett's cheek.

"I'm going to head on out of here, then," I said, pulling on my coat.

"You'll be OK? Good. I'm going to take a shower and call it a night." Crystal hugged me, then took off for the bathroom.

Feeling guilty about leaving all the mess for Crystal, I went into the kitchen to do a few dishes. It was funny, really. Chett and Crystal made such a good couple. It's too bad Crystal really wasn't a girl, then he could date Chett, no worries.

As I filled up the sink, I heard Chett stir, then get up. I waited for him to join me in the kitchen, but then realized he was headed in the opposite direction. 'Must be going to the bathroom,' I thought. The bathroom? Oh, dear God!

Still tripping on my heels, I made it to the bathroom, just as Chett closed the door behind him. I stopped, not knowing what I should do. The water wasn't running, but Crystal had had plenty of time to disrobe.

I placed my ear to the door. I heard Crystal and Chett gasp with surprise. There was a long, long pause. Then I heard Crystal giggle, followed by the sound of the shower starting. Then someone turned on Crystal's waterproof shower radio. I took my cue and left.

The next day I didn't even wait for breakfast before I called Crystal to find out what had happened. He asked me to meet her for breakfast in the cafeteria.

I found him sitting alone at a table, an untouched bowl of cereal in front of him. He was staring off into space, a dreamy expression on his face.

"Crystal?" I ventured, joining him. "What's up?"

Crystal turned in face towards me. He was dressed in jeans and a blouse, no makeup, no jewelry. Even like that, no one would have taken him for anything but a young co-ed. He smiled at me. "Hi, Roberta."

"So speak! What happened?"

"Well, Chett walked in on me, right when I had undressed. I was standing there, not a stitch on. If he ever had doubts about my...you know they must have ended at that minute.

"I expected him to leave, all grossed out. But he just took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Then he gently shoved me into the shower while he undressed."

I was surprised, but happily so. Maybe it had been the alcohol, but Chett had shown that he wasn't opposed to a relationship with Crystal. I pictured Chett and Crystal, naked in the shower, man and woman.

"The things we did Roberta, the things he did to me, the things I let him do. The way he touched me, the way he kissed me, held me...

"I always looked on being Crystal as a temporary part of my life. Every time Mom asked me about it, I told her I was just experimenting, seeing life from the other side of things. Now after Chett, after last night I can't go back. He forced me into a decision, he made me chose the road of femininity. I'm just going to become more and more of a woman. More and more of his woman."

I couldn't help it. I reached over and gave Crystal a big hug. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Chett wants me to be his girlfriend. I'll give you two guesses how I answered. I'll stay in college, save my money, and after a few years I'll have an operation to make me a full time woman."

"Crystal, you're going to be great."

"So how about you? Can I make you a reservation at the hospital with me?" she joked.

"Oh, Lord, no! I'm just doing this to be with Brenda, womanhood means nothing to me."

"Are you sure?" asked Crystal, looking at my clothes pointedly. The cold weather had set in; I was wearing an angora sweater, jeans, and boots. My hair hung luxuriously down my back, and I had recently added another set of earrings. As usual, my face was all made up.

"Of course I'm sure," I said, nervously playing with an earring.

"That's too bad. You sure make a good girl."

"Well, after this year, I'm going to figure out a way to go back to being Robert." Of course, I didn't have the slightest idea how to do that yet.

Crystal smiled and took a small pill bottle out of his purse. "Anything wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, no. They're just my hormones. Got to look good for Chett, don't I? Hey, where are you running off to?" I didn't stop to explain. The pills Crystal was taking were exactly the same as the 'vitamins' Brenda had been feeding me.

I cut class and returned to my dorm. Brenda wasn't there, and I disrobed, taking off the sex-hiding device last. I regarded my nude figure with contempt in Brenda's big mirror.

How could I have been so blind? Did I not notice how soft my skin was getting? How my muscles were wasting away? How I now had hips as wide as Brenda's? And my breasts! While I had succeeded in flattening my belly, my chest had expanded. I had had to buy a smaller pair of fake tits to accommodate my growing chest! How dark and wide nipples now were! How sensitive they had become, Brenda loved playing with them, she knew how it turned me on.

How stupid I had been! My own girlfriend, sneaking me estrogen! She must have thought seeing me grow boobs was a funny joke! That making me impotent was hilarious! How could she have done such a thing? I didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the very object of my anger. Brenda had returned to pick up some books for her next lecture.

"Hey, honey," she smiled, not noticing my furious expression. "Ooh, all naked! Well, I have a few minutes "

Her smile turned to fear when I hurled my bottle of pills at her. "What in the hell is this? What the hell are you trying to do to me?" I shrilled.

"They're ... they're vitamins," she protested lamely.

"Vitamins my ass! It's these vitamins that gave Crystal her C cups !"

"Roberta, honey, let me explain," she moved tentatively towards me.

"Back off, you bitch! Haven't you done enough to me?" Brenda cowered. I began to pull on some clothes. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice? Did you honestly think I wouldn't mind? I hate you!"

"Roberta, honey, please listen!"

"There is nothing you could say that could make this all right! There is nothing you could say that would make me forgive you! There is nothing you could say that would make me not hate you!" I finished dressing and slammed the door after me, vaguely aware that Brenda was weeping.

I roamed around campus for about an hour, seething. I wanted to scream, to holler, to rake my soft skin with a wire brush, anything to feel manly again. I plotted how I would return to being Robert. I'd have to drop out of school, of course, no long would I be Brenda's 'kept woman.' A few months off estrogen and I should look like a man again.

Eventually I got tired of tromping around in the cold December air and wandered over to Crystal's apartment. He wasn't home, so I slouched morosely around his door, wishing that I were a smoker so I could get some comfort from a cigarette.

Crystal eventually returned from class and immediately noticed something was wrong. "Hey, Roberta, what's up?"

"I'll tell you what's up!" I shouted, shoving Crystal into his apartment. "Brenda's been slipping me female hormones, that's what!"

Crystal looked surprised. "You didn't know?"

"No, she told me they were vitamins. Hey, wait a minute, you knew?"

"Well, Roberta, the changes have been fairly obvious. I didn't think you got that cute little butt of yours from exercising."

"Why the hell didn't you say something!"

"It never occurred to me you didn't know! I figured it was none of my business."

"Thanks for nothing. I'm the only eighteen year old guy I know who's growing tits."

"Now calm down," said Crystal, handing me a cup of tea. "Why did Brenda do this?"

"To humiliate me, I suppose."

"That's supposing a lot. She didn't strike me as the dominatrix type."

"Well, can you think of another reason? Jesus, I can't even get an erection. She's chemically castrated me!"

"That's a little harsh, nothing permanent has been done. She didn't give any sort of an explanation?"

"No, I didn't give her a chance."

"Maybe you should at least hear her out."

"Crystal, you make a great woman. There's nothing wrong with that. But I'm not like you, I don't enjoy this. Brenda's betrayed me in a way I can never forget."

"Just talk to her. If you're still mad at her afterwards, you can always move in with me. I'll help you get back to manhood."

"Thanks Crystal. I knew that you, unlike some others, were my real friend." I made my exit.

At the door to our dorm, I paused. What should I say? Tell her I was moving out, and I not to bother saying anything? Or should I try to be mature and allow her a few minutes to try and explain? I felt unreasonably nervous and it wasn't hard to figure out why. Brenda had such control over me I could never resist her. What if she convinced me to take her back?

Well, after what she had done, it wasn't likely. I barged into the room. At first I thought she was gone, the room was dark. Then I saw her. She was collapsed in a heap on the floor, wearing nothing but her jeans and her bra. Her hair was tangled and she was positioned in such a way that she seemed unconscious.

Instantly, my thoughts of revenge were replaced with my overriding concern for Brenda. I rushed to her side and turned her over on her back. I noticed a half-empty bottle of vodka on the floor next to her, the cause of this sorry state.

Brenda's eyes shot open at my touch. It was hard to describe the look in her eyes, it was a combination of despair and terror. She weakly grabbed my hand. "Roberta," she mumbled, "Roberta...please...please."

Knowing I could never leave her in this state, I helped her to the bed and removed her clothes. I dressed her in a nightgown and tucked her in. She barely stirred, I think she had passed out again. But when I turned out the lights, she spoke.

"Roberta, are you leaving me?"

"Yes, Brenda. I am." She answered with a pitiful groan.

"Please, Roberta! Don't leave me! Stay the night just the night," she started crying again. I pulled up a chair next to her bed and held her hand until she fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up Brenda with a gentle shake. "You stayed!" she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Not for long. That's why I woke you up, to tell you goodbye."

Brenda painfully sat up in bed. "Can't I explain?"

"I doubt it. But if you want to say something, you might as well."

Brenda stood up unsteadily and took a chair. I had never seen her like this. She no longer seemed like the woman who was running my life, but like a beaten stray dog, looking for a place to die. It was the first time I remembered seeing her unsure of herself.

"Roberta, I know what I did was unforgivable. But I don't want you to think I did this because I didn't respect you. I did this because I love you." I snorted.

"Roberta, when I was five I had this uncle. He used to baby sit for me a lot; you know how often my parents are gone. One day he came into my bedroom and well, you can guess.

"It went on for five years, Roberta. Five Goddamn years. He had me so convinced it was all my fault. I was nearly eleven before I told anyone." Despite my anger, I touched Brenda on the shoulder. I had clue she had had such a tragic childhood. I hated myself for not knowing, not doing anything to help her.

"I could never relate to men after that, not even my own father. I feared men. I hated them. But at the same time I could never forgive myself for what my uncle did. I knew it was stupid, but I felt like I deserved what happened. When I started dating, I'd latch on to the worst men I could find. Men who treated me badly, ignored me, made me feel as worthless as I felt. Andy, of course, fit the bill perfectly.

"One day, I decided that enough was enough. I had done nothing wrong, so why was I punishing myself. I told Andy to shove it. I decided I was through with men like him. I wanted someone decent, someone caring, someone who'd enjoy holding me as well as getting naked with me. Of course I thought of you.

"You were everything I wanted in a man, everything I deserved. That first time I saw you after all those years, I knew you were the one I was going to fall for. The first man in my life who ever treated me right.

"But honey, even that wasn't enough. You treated me like a queen, but every time you touched me, every time you'd hug me or kiss me on the cheek, I was revolted. Not because of you, but because of your gender. My experiences with men have made it impossible for me to ever physically love a man.

"I've been with a woman before, does that surprise you? It only lasted a few days, but I really enjoyed it. No bristly hair, no overpowering muscles, no whisker burn, just all soft and smooth and curvy. What I wanted was a woman to love me, but I already loved you.

"God, it was such an insane plan. I figured if I could put your brain into a woman's body, then I could make my best friend the girl of my dreams. What could be wrong with that? Every time I dressed you like a woman, I was hoping you'd tell me you loved it. Don't you think I could have had some friends watch out for you at prom? Don't you think I could have loaned you money to go to college? What I wanted was to feminize you in such a way that you'd never be a man again."

I touched Brenda's cheek with my varnished nails. "Brenda, I had no idea. I can't believe you did all this just to be with me! But facts are facts: I'm not a woman. I'll never be. But I can be the man of your dreams. I can help you get over your fear of men. Together we can be man and woman."

Brenda shook her head morosely. "No we can't. This isn't a phase with me. I'm attracted to women. I wish I could love you as a man, but I can't. The feel of Roberta's touch turns me on to no end. The feel of Robert's touch disgusted me."

I stood up. "Brenda. I love you. But what do you expect me to do? Have a sex change? Become your wife?"

Brenda stood up and faced me with her familiar vehemence. "That's not what I expect. But it's what I want. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be my woman. I want you to be Roberta forever. You're everything I want in a soul mate. If I'm not mistaken, I fill that roll for you."

"Brenda, I'd throw myself on a grenade to make you happy. But be a woman? That's insane! What would we tell our parents, for starters?"

"My parents already know how I am. They never stopped blaming themselves for what happened to me as a girl, and they're willing to let me do anything, so long as I am happy."

"And my mom?"

"I don't know. You could tell her you'd be happier as a woman, she'd be hard pressed to argue with your happiness."

"But I wouldn't be happier! I hate this life! I'm only doing this to be with you!"

Brenda put her hands on my shoulders. "There's no middle ground. I can't change how I think. You can be Robert, my best friend, or Roberta, my girlfriend. If you choose to go back to maleness, I'd not blame you in the least. And I'd pay for your college; I certainly owe you that much. But if you become Robert, you wouldn't be able to so much as kiss me. Ever. Eventually I'd find a woman to fill your shoes, but she wouldn't be able to compare with you."

"Brenda, stop talking like that!"

"It's true. I'm in love with Roberta, not Robert. I know how cruel that sounds, but I can't change who I love."

"Could I have some time to think about this?"

"Of course! Listen, why don't I leave town for the weekend. You stay here and do some soul searching. I'll be back Sunday night. If you meet me at the door in a dress, then I'll spend the rest of my life making you the happiest girl on earth. If not, I meant what I said about being friends. Nothing could ever take that away from us." With that, she threw some outfits in a suitcase and left, stopping only to kiss me goodbye.

I lay on my bed and thought for hours. This was insane! Logically, I should tell Brenda that enough was enough, and we weren't destined to be lovers. It would hurt, but it had to be done. She'd meet someone, I'd meet someone no, becoming a woman simply was in the cards for me.

But I couldn't bring myself to make the resolution. No matter how much I hated living as Roberta, I knew I'd hate living without Brenda even more. I was stuck. Give up Brenda, or give up my manhood. It all came down to that.

I needed some advice, someone who could look at things without being blinded by my love for Brenda. Since the only one who knew my secret was Crystal, I decided to give him a ring.

Feeling guilty for harassing him yet again that day, I dialed his apartment. No answer. Perhaps he was at his boyfriend's. I called Chett's number. "Hi, this is Chett," said his machine. "I'm not in right now, but if you leave a message, I'll get back to you. And if this is Dr. Richard Kimball, I told you I didn't kill your wife!" Damn, not there either. I decided to leave a message.

"Hey Chett, this is Roberta. If you see Crystal, tell her I really need to BEEP!" The recording cut off at someone picked up the phone. "Hey Roberta," said Crystal.

"Crystal, I'm glad I found you. Listen "

"Chett, knock it off!" giggled Crystal.

"Um, Crystal, I was talking to Brenda today " Crystal laughed again into the receiver. "Sorry, Roberta, Chett's just being a big silly. What were you saying?"

"I was never mind. Can I get together with you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Eek! Chett! You put me down this instant!" The phone clicked off.

The next day I joined Crystal at his apartment. "Sorry I couldn't talk last night," blushed Crystal. "Chett was over and, well, you know."

I smiled, understandingly. "I'm glad to see you two are getting on so well. Listen, I'm having a bit of a relationship problem. It's Brenda."

"Oh yeah, the hormones! What did she say?"

"That she likes women. That the only way she'd stay with me is if I become one."

"That's a lot to ask. So are you breaking it off?"

"Not exactly. She's giving me the weekend to think about it."

"So you're considering it?"

"I know it's nuts, but I can't stand the thought of losing her. She's the only person, besides my mom, who's ever really cared about me. I feel like nothing is worth losing her for."

"Even your manhood?"

"I don't know. These past few months have been crazy, but they haven't been all that bad. I'd never been popular as Robert, now all of a sudden I'm dating a great woman and have all kinds of friends. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having more fun than I'd ever had."

"Well, the lifestyle grows on you. Take me, for example."

"Crystal, you've always liked being a woman, haven't you?"

"Not at first. But I guess I never would have agreed to become Crystal had I not been a little curious. It wasn't as bad as I had expected, and the longer I acted like a woman, the more natural it became. I guess when Mom first asked me, I was having the typical teenage identity crisis. Being feminized helped me come out of my shell."

"And now you enjoy it?"

"Roberta, I love it! You couldn't pay me to become a man again."

"I'm happy for you. Unfortunately, I'd become a man again in a second, if I knew Brenda wouldn't leave me."

"Then I guess you have a decision to make. Who do you love more, Brenda or Robert?"

"Brenda." I was shocked at how confidently I said it.

"There you have it! In the long run, you'll still be the same person deep down."

"What will everyone say?"

"Who is everyone?"

"My..." I started to say 'my friends,' but realized my only true friends were the ones I had made as Roberta. "My mother. What will she say?"

"That's going to be hard. My Mom was sure shocked when she realized I'd never be Christopher again, but she knew I was happier this way. I never really had to explain anything to her. You, on the other hand, have quite a problem on your hands."

"Well, maybe I should just tell Brenda I'll only do this until the end of college. That way I can see if I can handle it."

"Do whatever you think is right. Just remember, every day you live as Roberta, it becomes that much harder to go back."

"Well, it'll give me time to get my head together. I can't really see myself jumping into a male life again at the moment. I'd have to drop out of school, wait until the hormones wore off, enroll somewhere else, there'd be no end to the problems."

"You mean, you don't want to lose Brenda."

"In a nutshell, yeah. Crystal, I'm so glad I have you to talk to. Believe me, I'm going to need your help in the months to come!" Crystal looked guilty and turned away.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Roberta, I'm not going to be here after Christmas."

"Why not!" I was terrified! Crystal was my one confidant in gender matters.

"Chett and I we're participating in an exchange. There's a language school in Denmark. We're going to finish our degrees there."

"But why? I know it'd be fun to spend a semester abroad, but you're talking like three years!"

"Roberta, I'm not going to Denmark just to study."

"Then why...oh!"

Crystal looked at me sadly. "Chett loves me. But he's a heterosexual. I hate the fact that every time I'm with him I think 'He's accepting me. He tolerates how I am. He's dealing with my condition.' I can't stand to be half a woman in his eyes. I inherited some money from my grandfather, I'm going to arrange the surgery for next summer."

"Oh Crystal. You'll make a lovely woman. But I'm going to miss you like hell."

"Me too. Roberta, I'm erasing my old life. I'm cutting all ties with my male existence. I want to marry Chett, and then forget that I wasn't born a woman. I'm severing all connections with my old life, except with my Mom."

"Does that mean me as well?"

"Roberta, of course not. You and Brenda are my friends, and nothing can change that. But do me a favor? From now on, treat me like a woman. Don't mention the past. I'm living for the future now. I want us to always be friends. Just girlfriends."

"Crystal, it takes a mental effort for me to think of you as a guy. Trust me, you were always a woman in my eyes."

"Thanks. One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Before I give up being a man, there's something I've always wanted to do."

"What's that?"

"Kiss a girl. I've never kissed a girl before, I want to try it once, just to see what it's like." Crystal placed his arm on my shoulder.

"You mean ?"

"Please? I won't tell Brenda."

"O...O.K."

Crystal put his arms around my neck and kissed me for a long, long time. I didn't stop to think he wasn't quite a woman, he didn't stop to think the same about me. Finally, we disengaged.

"Wow!" he said. "Brenda's a lucky girl!"

"What was it like?" I asked.

"It was soft. And warm. Maybe if I had done that years ago, my life would have turned out differently. Oh well, c'est la vie." Crystal escorted me back to my dorm.

Sunday night I sat on my bed wondering if I was doing the right thing. My makeup was flawless (though perhaps a little over done). I was wearing my heels, and earrings. I had spent hours making my hair perfect. As for clothes, I was wearing nothing but one of Brenda's robes.

I heard Brenda's key in the lock. She hesitated, then opened the door.

"Roberta!" she screamed when she saw how I was dressed. Her face lit up like the mid-August sun. She rushed towards me.

"Does this mean...?" she asked, hopefully.

"Sit down," I directed. "We need to talk." She joined me on the bed, trying hard to keep the anticipation out of her expression.

"Brenda, after a weekend of thinking, I've come to one conclusion. I love you. There's no getting around that. I'd do anything to keep you." I had to restrain Brenda from jumping into my arms. "But at the same time, asking a man to give up what makes him a man is a lot to ask. And I'm not sure if I'm willing to go that far." Brenda's eyes began to moisten.

"So I'll agree to this," I continued, "but only on a few conditions. For starters, I'm not saying I'll do anything permanent. Until we graduate, that's all. Don't try to force me to a commitment before then." Brenda nodded eagerly.

"Second, I'm not having a sex change operation," Brenda tried to interrupt, but I beat her to the punch. "That's non-negotiable. I may be willing to give up my manhood, alienate my family, and even alter my body, but I'm not going to have the surgery. I'm the one make all the sacrifices here, so you can take it or leave it."

Brenda wavered. "Maybe after you've been Roberta for a while..."

"Nope. I don't want you delude yourself into think I'll change my mind. No operation. Ever. Agree, or this conversation is over."

Brenda took a deep breath. "OK. No operation. You're woman enough for me now, as it is."

"Good. Third: This is going to kill my mother. She's the only person who's ever loved me, and I'm going to ruin her life because of this. You're going to have to help me break the news to her, and you're going to have to be there for me when she breaks down. Telling her will be the hardest think I've ever have to do, and I'm going to need every ounce of support you can give. Do you agree?" She nodded.

"Lastly, you're my partner, not my master. No more hidden agendas. No more doing things behind my back. No more half-truths. You have to be open and honest with me. Always."

"I swear, Roberta, I won't pull anything over on you. I'm sorry I came across as so domineering. I guess after years of abuse, I wanted more control in my life. Anything else?"

"Just this." I stood up and removed my robe. I was wearing some skimpy panties (covering the rubber penis-hiding ones), a pair of garters, and a bra. The bra was new; it actually fit my small but real breasts. It didn't take long for Brenda to join me in a similar state of undress.

Later that week, Brenda took me to an endocrinologist who prescribed me female hormones under my own name. These were more powerful, the doctor told me they'd begin to make me look like a woman in earnest.

"So what are the expected side effects?" I asked.

"They'll be similar to what you are experiencing now. Softer skin, feminine curves, loss of the male sex drive. As long as you're taking them you'll never grow a beard, and you won't bulk up. You'll also probably end up with a nice set of breasts."

That night Brenda asked me how it felt to change into a woman.

"It's odd. I mean, I never expected to have breasts! I always thought of myself as unattractive, and now I'm pretty! I feel really out of sorts."

"I worry that I'm making you unhappy."

"Don't worry in that respect. Everything I'm doing, I'm doing of my own free will."

That night, we made love. While I no longer could function like a man, Brenda taught me new ways of giving her pleasure, with my mouth, with my fingers, with my new breasts. It was a weird feeling, Brenda's large boobs rubbing against my smaller (but still budding) ones. It was an enjoyable experience, to say the least.

That night I lay next to my slumbering girlfriend, and compared our naked bodies. My legs seemed as long and smooth as hers. My belly, almost as flat. My hips, almost as wide. My freckled skin seemed as soft and inviting as her tanned and muscular complexion. My breasts, while about two cup sizes smaller, looked just as real. My nipples were almost as big and erect as hers.

The next day, I got the call I had been dreading. Mom wanted to know what I was going to do for Thanksgiving.

"Well Mom," I said, making a conscious effort to lower my voice, "I think I'm just going to stay here over the holidays. I can't get away right now."

"Well, I'm cashing in some of my frequent flier miles. I'll come up and visit you!"

My mind reeled. "OK. I'll see you then." Gulp.

I told Brenda what was happening when I saw her that afternoon. "Oh my," she said, looking ill. "Is there any way to cancel?"

"That's beside the point. I'll have to tell her some day, might as well be in a couple of weeks."

"Well, you don't have to tell her so soon," Brenda seemed more nervous than I was. "Maybe we could dress you up like a guy again."

"Do you really think that would work?"

"Honestly? No, not anymore."

"Brenda, I'm going to have to face the music. I can't put off the inevitable. And you have to be there to support me. Remember your agreement."

"Of course."

Figuring that it would be impossible to explain over the phone, I asked Mom to come to my dorm the day before Thanksgiving. Seeing is believing, as they say, and she'd certainly see a lot when she saw me.

Brenda and I debated for hours about what I was going to wear. "It has to be something very feminine," Brenda insisted. "She has to know this is more than a stage, more than a fetish with you. When she looks at you, she has to realize that you're going to be her daughter."

"Yes, but at the same time, we can't go overboard," I argued. "She's going to be coming here fully expecting to see her son. If I meet her in a bikini top, that might be pushing things a bit too far."

Eventually we settled on a compromise. Despite the fact that it had already snowed that year, we decided I needed to show off a bit of flesh. Mom had to see that my transformation into a woman was more than mental. In the end I ended up wearing a short skirt, a halter-top, and heels. I gazed at my reflection as Brenda did my nails and hair. Could I really be that frightened girl in the mirror? The one who's soft freckled skin stood out on her graceful neck, slender back, and perky breasts? The one who could now walk in high heels shoes like a pro? The one who made herself up to look pretty every morning? God, what would my mother think? Could she ever learn to accept me as Roberta?

Eventually the moment came. Mom would show up at the door any second now. "Would you stop pacing?" Brenda asked me. "You're putting me on edge!"

"You tell your parents you're having a sex change and see how you feel! God, I think I'm going to puke."

Brenda stood up and grabbed me by the arms. "Roberta, listen to me. This will shock your mother. She might even get mad. But she will accept you. How do I know? Because you are still her child. You are still the same person she always loved. Nothing can stop a mother's love. If it goes badly, and it might, just remember that things will improve."

There was a knock at the door. "Robert, honey?" I heard my mother say. This was it. Trying to look as confident as possible, I opened the door.

Mom stopped smiling when I opened the door. "Hello!" I said warmly and girlishly at the same time.

"Um, hello. Is this Robert's room?" She was refusing to believe what she was seeing.

"Yes, of course, come in."

Mom seemed upset. "Are you Robert's girlfriend?" she asked, hopefully.

"Mom, it's me. Robert. I know you recognize me."

Mom took a deep breath, and sat down in my chair, roughly. "Robert, what is this? Is this a joke?" Despite the obvious physical changes in her son, she still was hoping that this was all some sort of prank.

"Mom, you remember Brenda? We're in love. Brenda is attracted to women, so I've decided to become Roberta. We're very happy." Mom turned gray. Brenda waved, meekly.

"Robert, what has gotten into you?" my mom whispered.

"I'm in love. I've been living like this for months. I'm not going to change back."

"Robert, stop it. You need to see a doctor. I'll make an appointment with a therapist."

"It's not like that. I love Brenda, she loves me, and nothing else matters."

Mom started crying. "Robert, please. Can't you see you're killing your mother?"

I started crying too. "Mom, I know this is a shock. I never planned it this way. But in time you'll grow to accept..."

"Accept what?" my mom suddenly shouted. "That my only son has become a freak? That my offspring has decided to live a deviant lifestyle?"

I felt like I had been gut-punched. "Mom, please don't "

"Don't 'Mom' me! You are not my child! My child was Robert! You, you're no son of mine!"

"Mommy..." I sobbed, trying to touch her.

"Back off, you pervert! I never want to see you again!" She moved to leave.

"Ma'am..." Brenda began, unsteadily.

"Shut up, you whore!" screamed my mother. "You've killed my son and ruined my life. Don't come near me!" The door slammed behind her.

I never thought there was much truth to people blacking out from emotional shock, but that's exactly what I did then. When I came to, I was in my pajamas. Brenda was holding me in her lap, rocking me as if I were an infant.

"Hush little baby," she sang, "don't say a word. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird won't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring..."

I fell asleep in her arms, wishing I was living someone else's life.

I awoke the next morning to see Brenda sitting on a chair, looking down at me. She obviously hadn't slept a wink, she looked miserable. "I guess you hate me," she said, flatly.

"Don't be like that. Of course I don't."

"Even after what happened?"

"That wasn't your fault."

"It was in a way. Listen, Roberta. If you want to leave me I'll understand."

"The hell you would. Brenda, I love you. You're all I have now. Now that my mother doesn't..." I started bawling, and Brenda held me. The one constant in my life, my mother's love, had evaporated. I had never felt so low. Not when my Dad left, not when I thought Brenda was gone out of my life, never. My own mother no longer loved me.

"So what now?" asked Brenda, when I had calmed down.

"I get on with my life. We finished school, see what the future holds."

"Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"Brenda, you didn't do anything. Everything I've done was my own doing. I've no one to blame but myself."

The phone rang. Brenda and I looked at it with shock. Could it be ? I hoped. Quickly, I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Robert?"

"Mom!"

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't sleep at all last night. I didn't mean what I said; I was just in shock! Oh, honey, say you forgive me, say you still love me!"

"Oh, Mommy! Oh Mommy, of course I love you."

"God, I was so upset last night. Can I see you? Let me see you! Come to my hotel."

"Well?" asked Brenda, when I hung up.

"She apologized. I think she felt as bad as I did."

"Oh, that's wonderful."

"She wants me to see her."

"Then get going. Do you want me to come?"

"Not just yet. I think we'll need to discuss some things. But could you stay by the phone? I might need to talk to you later."

"I won't leave the dorm."

I approached my mother's door with trepidation. I was dressed as conservatively as possible, in jeans and a sweater. I still was wearing makeup and jewelry, however. I knocked.

Mom opened the door. I could tell by her face she had spent most of the night crying. We stared at each other for a long time. Then, as if a dam had burst, we embraced, crying. "I'm so sorry," we both said about fifty times.

Eventually, we settled down. "Robert, I was obviously shocked to see you yesterday. I didn't know how to react, so I just got mad. That was the wrong thing to do. You know I didn't mean what I said, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Can we start over?"

"I'd like that."

"So could you try to explain things to me? I'm very confused."

I started from the beginning. About Andy, prom, Brenda's uncle, the hormones, everything. It took about an hour. Mom didn't say anything, just looked at me with a strange expression.

"Robert," she said when I was finished, "you did this because of Brenda, right?"

"Yes."

"You don't think you could convince her to love you as a man, do you?"

I shook my head. "That would be easier, but no, that's not an option."

Mom placed her arm around me and hugged me. "Honey, can I tell you something? Something I've never told you?"

"Of course."

"Before I met your father, I loved another man. His name was Dave. Dave was the love of my life. Handsome, charming, a lover and a friend. And black.

"Your grandparents never accepted that. They refused to see him as a potential member of the family. They eventually told me I had to choose between my love and my family. I chose my family. You know the rest of the story. I married an 'acceptable' man, who cheated on me, ignored me, and left me with nothing.

"Last night I realized that by denying you your love I was no better than my parents. I know what it's like to have to choose between the ones you love, and I could never do that to you. If Brenda makes you happy, then you have my blessing. I don't think I'll ever like the idea of your being a girl, and I guess I'll always secretly hope you'll stop, but I want you to know I'll never be ashamed of you. If you won't be my son, then you'll just have to be my daughter Roberta."

"Mom, you've made me so happy. I could never be happy without you in my life."

"You don't have to worry about that. So if you don't mind my asking, how do you like womanhood?"

"It was hard at first, but I'm getting into it. I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Well, I hate to say it, but you make a lovely woman. You were always a little gangly before, but you've certainly become a beauty."

"Mom you're going to make me cry again."

"Then maybe we should just let things be. You know, it is Thanksgiving. Can I take you out to eat?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Why don't you give Brenda a call?"

"You'd be OK with that?" I asked, rapturously.

"Well, if she's a potential daughter-in-law, I guess I should get to know her."

Dinner started of very awkwardly, as you could imagine. Brenda was terrified Mom would hate her, Mom wasn't sure what to think about the girl who had robbed her of her son. But by desert, Brenda's natural charm had won Mom over. Brenda was right, once Mom saw that I was happy, then she was hard pressed to complain.

When it came time for Mom to leave, we both saw her to the airport. "Well Robert, Roberta sorry, this is all rather new. It was good to see you. I'll miss you." We hugged.

"And Brenda," continued Mom, "Roberta tells me you don't have much planned for Christmas."

"No, the folks are going off to Bermuda."

"Well, maybe you'd like to spend the holidays with us?"

"Oh, do you mean it?"

"We'd love to have you. We'll, that's my flight. And Roberta, next time you have a surprise like this, write first, OK?" She kissed my cheek and was gone.

I stood in the terminal, holding hands with my girlfriend. "Brenda, you wouldn't believe how happy I am right now."

"Oh, I think I would." We then kissed, in full view of the many travelers nearby.

Epilogue: four years later

"So will you hurry up already? The ceremony starts in less than an hour!"

"Sorry," I replied sarcastically, "but we're both going to be in the spotlight today, and I have to look pretty too." As we both struggled for space in front of the bathroom mirror of our apartment, I couldn't help but smile at the situation. Most guys wanted their girlfriends to hurry up in the bathroom; mine wanted me to hurry up.

As Brenda did her makeup, I stood and looked at my nude body in the mirror. The hormones had worked wonders on me. Though I never reached a higher cup size than a B, my breasts were rather perky and cute. In fact, I had worn a bikini top for the first time last spring break.

But now I had better things to do than admire my curves. This afternoon everyone would have their eyes on us and I had to look as pretty as possible. I removed my gown from the garment bag. It was as beautiful as I had always pictured it. It was also identical to the one Brenda would be wearing. Of course it would me. All academic garb looks the same. But this was our college graduation and I thought my cap and gown were gorgeous.

"So, how do I look?" Brenda asked me, stepping out of the bathroom. She was fully clothed, looking both regal and pretty in her black robe. God, but she was lovely. I told her so.

"Not as lovely as you. I'd kiss you now, but I don't want to smear your lipstick. You almost ready?"

"Give me one second," I replied, putting in my earrings. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, we got a letter from Chett and Crystal today."

Brenda picked up the letter from the nightstand and examined the enclosed photo. It was of our two friends on a beach in France. Chett looked handsome as always, with his blonde hair, good looking face, and muscular frame. Still self-conscious about his arm, he had hidden his stump behind Crystal's back. Crystal, on the other hand, looked like she was posing for a swimsuit calendar. She was smiling as if the world were at her doorstep. Her long blonde hair hung down around her shoulders, and I found it hard to imagine there was skimpier bikini on earth. They both seemed so happy.

"All set," I told my girlfriend. "Are you excited?"

"Of course! This is going to be the most important day of our life. Well, until a few months from now." We giggled.

We'd be making the announcement that night, as we had dinner with our families. Last April, while enjoyed spring break in Florida, Brenda had popped the question. Of course I had said yes.

For the last few weeks we'd been secretly making wedding preparations. At a normal wedding, the bride would be in charge of that, while the groom only had to rent a tux. But since there would be two brides at this wedding, we'd both been spending every free moment deciding on our gowns, the flowers, the music, every detail. We had considered wearing identical gowns, but decided against it. Just as we were very different people emotionally, we were very different physically as well. We had both selected gowns that would compliment our different body types, and couldn't wait to wear them for the world.

There were points of contention, however. Which of us would get to walk down the aisle? Brenda thought she was the logical choice, as her father could escort her, but I wasn't about to be left out of the fun. We'd eventually decided to both enter from the wings, so no one of us would be official 'bride.' Brenda, however, demanded that she get to carry me over the threshold.

As we walked out into the warm spring sunshine, Brenda took my hand. "I'm really looking forward to making you Mrs. Brenda Anders," she smiled.

"And I'm looking forward to being your wife. Do you remember when I proposed to you?"

"But I...oh, I remember! Kindergarten! Well, looks like your prediction came true. You became a woman and are going to marry me." We laughed.

"Roberta," continued Brenda, in a more serious vein, "about our honeymoon..."

"You said I could pick the location. I hope you're not going to back out now."

"Of course not. But Thailand? I thought for sure you'd want to go to Hawaii or somewhere."

"Thailand is beautiful. There are beaches, beautiful temples, you'll love it."

Brenda winked at me. "I'll love anywhere, as long as you're there. We'll have a great time."

As we lined up with the other graduates, I laughed inwardly. Thailand was beautiful, but Brenda little suspected the true motives behind my selection. For months I'd been in communication with a Thai surgeon, via e-mail. After about a week of honeymooning, I'd check into his hospital and come out as Brenda's true wife. When I had made her swear she'd never ask me to have a sex change I meant it. But after four years of being Roberta, it seemed silly not to. I hadn't thought of myself as a man in years.

I came back to myself as they began calling names. Brenda, separated from me by several letters of the alphabet, shot me a smile as they read her name. As I stepped up to take my diploma (made out in the name of Roberta), I smiled in anticipation of the hubbub our engagement announcement would make that night.