Chris Drewett, a teenage transsexual, is caught dressing in his sister’s clothes by his mother. Faced with a problem she can’t deal with, she turns to her sister-in law, a doctor who practices nearby, and she starts Chris on an amazing and very surprising journey.

A gentle tale of teenage angst and discovery, and of relationships and conflicts. Where sexual awakenings cause confusion and tears as well as joy and lasting friendships.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: Why Me?  © 2009,2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
Please enjoy.
Tanya
 
 

 
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
I sat outside the door, one of seven people invited for interview. It was a warm August morning, and I’d declined a trip to Florida for this.

I was sixteen now, having finished my O levels and obtained the results a couple of days ago. I was here at the Grafton College of Dramatic Arts. I had been sold on drama since that play, so was determined to eventually get involved in the theatre or film world. But the Grafton College was well known as a sixth form college which specialised in subjects related to Drama, music and other performing arts. Grafton had links with other Drama Schools, and a lot of really well known actors and actresses had come here.

I had attained ten O levels at grade two or above, so had been accepted for interview. They only took twenty in each sixth form, but was so popular that there were about fifty applicants after each place.

The wood panelled hall in which we sat was bleak, echoing with every sound or movement. I gently rested my head back and closed my eyes, trying to relax.

I thought back over the last four years, and they had been certainly an action packed time for me.

My last two terms at Fromley went too quickly, but they enabled me to have a little breathing space to catch my breath. Douglas and I were almost inseparable, and even poor Bruce realised he had been sidelined. I had been careful to retain my special friendship with him, so we spent a lot of time together in the holidays because we lived close to each other.

When the time came to leave, I was more than ready. I managed to beat all the school swimming records, so was thrilled to pick up several cups and prizes at my final speech day.

Douglas was into his selected Public School, Merchant Taylors at Rickmansworth, in Hertfordshire. My parents found a small private girls’ secondary school near Guildford, in which I found myself in an all girl environment for the first time. It was weekly boarding, so I was home by six in the evening every Friday.

It was twinned with a nearby boys’ school, with which we’d get together for drama and several other activities. In my second year, the schools merged into one, so we all moved to the boys’ campus. I actually enjoyed a year of no boys, and made some really good friends amongst the girls. I also liked boys around me, I was never quite the same after being one of a few amongst so many, but it was cool.

Douglas wrote to me at least once a week, so I dutifully wrote back. He called every Friday evening at seven, and even though we were apart, I still felt we had something special going.

I had grown up a lot since leaving Fromley. I found when I first arrived at the senior school, I was more advanced and mature than most of the girls in my year. By the time I had reached the end of the O level year I was ready to move on. I did not fancy staying on to do run-of-the-mill academic A levels, mike History and English, as my real pleasure was in Drama.

Hence, why I was sitting in a dreary corridor waiting my turn, instead of being in the Florida sunshine.

I had been back to Florida twice since that first trip. I found I really liked the place and the people, as they had a wonderfully laid-back pace of life and a far less intense attitude towards others. Douglas and I were rather boring, as we just clicked back into where we left off. Linda seemed to like having me along, and as I grew older and filled out, we would spend more and more time in each other’s company, not so much as mother and daughter, but almost as friends.

At the end of the last trip, I was able to talk to her as a friend, as she didn’t have the responsibility of being my mother to hold back on her answers. I valued her advice; that is not to say I agreed with everything she said, which I didn’t. However, she was able to give me useful pointers about aspects of life of which my own mother was not as aware.

Our last trip had been by far the best.

Douglas was even taller and very broad, and was incredibly good looking. As we spent so much time apart, we became independently minded, so it was always fun catching up with each other’s life.

I was five seven now, while he was a good six two. My figure was trim, and my bust was 36C. I was able to wear super clothes, and as it was 1974, short skirts and hot pants were the rage. I wasn’t into floppy, hippy clothes, as I had missed that sort of age.

We had spent three weeks in the summer in Florida, and I think we spent most of it in the sea or the pool. I had had a long lecture from my mother about contraception before embarking, and I had simply smiled at her.

“Mummy, I don’t want to start the pill yet. I have no intention of having sex until I am a lot older, when I’m able to deal with it properly. But if anything does happen, I promise that we will take precautions.”

I think she had been a bit surprised, but pleased also.

As soon as we arrived in Florida, Linda took the first opportunity to talk to me when the boys went off golfing.

She more or less said what my mother had done, even offering to take me to a local doctor.

“Linda, I appreciate your concern, but neither of us are ready for sex yet. It is not that we wouldn’t like to, we would, and I think we’d enjoy it. But there is always a price to pay for things like that, and neither of us are ready to pay yet.”

I know my answer stunned her slightly, so I simply smiled and went out and lay in the sun.

What none of them knew was that Douglas and I had discovered oral sex. And as much as we wanted full sex, we actually didn’t really want to take that step yet. We learned how to please each other in so many different ways, that we kept full sex back as something to look forward to.

I had learned what he had tasted like when I was fourteen. Actually, I had so nearly been sick, that I learned three vital lessons.

One, hold his dick by the shaft, so he couldn’t stuff it down my throat.

Two, lie on him, to stop him arching his back and stuffing his dick further down my throat.

Three, get him to warn me when he was about to come, so I could get ready!

Actually, after the first near disaster we realised the need for communication. We learned to tell each other what we liked and what we didn’t like, as well as what gave us pleasure and what didn’t. This saved an awful lot of time wasting and frayed tempers.

I didn’t really like his entire penis down my throat, so he learned to restrain his thrusts some. He told me that he didn’t like it when I clamped my legs against his head, as he nearly suffocated.

Once we cleared up these little misunderstandings, we had a super time.

“Christina Drewett?”

I was up.

I walked in to the room. It was a long room, oak panelled and with a highly polished wooden floor. There was very little furniture, just some rather dreary portraits on the walls. Three women and a man sat in high backed chairs behind a long table. One single chair was positioned a little way from the table. It all looked very daunting.

I stood, smiling gently.

The lady in the middle smiled back at me. She was in her fifties, and I thought she looked very elegant. She was dressed in grey, yet she seemed to have a remarkable presence.

“Good morning, Christina. I am Geraldine Faulkner, the principal, and these are my directors of music, drama and academic studies. Please sit down.”

I sat, and so started the most rigorous interview I have ever experienced, before or since.

I had to read a short speech of Portia’s from Shakespeare’s A Merchant of Venice. It started with, ‘The quality of mercy is not strained….’. Then I had to read a part from a Pinter play, with the Male drama director reading the male part. I had to narrate a piece from a contemporary opera, and then sing a short selection of different styles of music.

Then I was asked to mime certain emotions, such as fear, anger, anguish, delight and embarrassment, using not only facial expression, but also body language.

They asked me about my studies. I noticed they had a record of my O Level grades. I knew if I hadn’t attained the grades I had, I wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

They asked me about my family life, only briefly touching on my medical history.

I had agreed with my parents that nothing was to be hidden, and I was completely honest about my gender confusion. The doctor’s letter said it all, and as a result they hardly asked me about it. The lady who was the director of academic studies asked one question.

“I appreciate that your particular problem was very difficult for you, but on reflection, how do you see yourself now?” she asked.

I smiled, but thought carefully.

“I consider myself fortunate to have had a loving and supportive family, supportive friends, and a super school. I see myself as a much stronger person, aware of my strengths and weaknesses, and filled with determination to succeed, regardless of how daunting the challenge may seem. I was in an impossible situation, yet, with help, I managed to overcome it. I learned that alone one suffers, but with support and help, anything is possible,” I said.

“We have young people from all walks of life sitting where you are now. Some seek fame and fortune, while many others don’t yet know what they seek. What is your ambition?” asked the director of drama.

“I want to simply be the best person I can be, and to make a difference,” I said with a smile.

After about an hour, Mrs Faulkner smiled at me again.

“Thank you, Christina, I think we have exhausted our quota of questions. You will be told whether you’ve been successful before you go home after the tour of the college. Is there anything you’d like to ask us, before you go?”

“Not really. I’d just like to thank you for this opportunity. I appreciate that places here are well contested, and that if I’m not accepted, I do understand. Thank you.” I stood up and left the room.

Once I closed the door, I had to sit down. I let out a heavy breath. There was a girl sitting waiting to go in.

“Was it bad?”

“Not bad, just really intense,” I said.

“I’m Katy.”

“Christina.”

“Will we find out today?”

“Before we go home.”

“I’m so nervous. How many are there?”

“Four.”

“Shit!”

“You’ll be fine, just relax, take a deep breath, and pretend you are in a play,” I said.

She smiled a little shakily.

“Thanks.”

“Katy Howard?” said the lady with the list.

She stood up.

“Good luck!” I said, and she just looked at me.

I was taken to the dining room where I met the other prospective candidates. There must have been twenty girls and seven boys already there. Some seemed far more glamorous and confident than I was. One girl, a stunningly attractive red-head, had a very posh voice and exaggerated mannerisms. She spoke very loudly and was regaling whoever was listening about her last performance at Cheltenham Ladies College. Suddenly, my own confidence drained and I felt very small and insignificant.

I collected my tea and Digestive biscuit and sat by myself at one of the long tables.

“Hello, are you okay?”

I looked up. It was one of the boys. He looked older than sixteen, as he was tall and quite thin. He had dark brown hair that was long, curling over his ears and collar. He was wearing John Lennon style spectacles, which looked strange with his dark blue suit and tie.

“Yeah, fine. I never realised just how tough this was going to be.”

He sat next to me, putting his cup and saucer down on the table.

“I’m Mike, Mike Ritchie.”

“Chris Drewett. That’s short for Christina.”

“Hi, Chris,” he said. I sensed he was quite shy too.

“What do you reckon on your chances?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not bad. They want at least ten boys, and there have only been fifteen applicants. You girls seem to be more competitive for the places.”

“That must be good for the boys, with all these girls to play around with,” I said.

He blushed and so I wondered why he was embarrassed. Then it hit me. He was gay! It was my turn to be embarrassed.

“I mean, some nice boys too, shit, I’m not sure what I mean,” I muttered, lamely. Making it obvious that I had guessed.

He had the grace to laugh, although still quite embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t something I get hung up about. I’m surprised you caught on so quickly. Very few people know.”

“Really? Haven’t you told your parents?”

“My mother guessed a few months ago. But my dad is a different story.” He looked around, slightly furtively. “Look, you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Why should I? No, of course I won’t, but I feel you should just be honest with everyone, and then you won’t be quite so guilty.”

“You don’t know what it’s like!”

“Don’t I? Well, for your information, I thought I was a boy up until a couple of years ago!”

His eyebrows shot up, getting lost in his fringe somewhere. I told him my story.

“My God, how wonderful!” he said, with his eyes shining. “You had the same boyfriend all the way through?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“I’ve only had one boyfriend, but that was so secretive, it drove me mad.”

“When did you realise?” I asked.

He looked around again, just in case someone was listening.

“I was about twelve, I suppose, although, as I was at a school like yours, a prep school with no girls, I didn’t connect that I might prefer boys. There weren’t any girls, so I never thought about it. It was when I went to public school that I really found out what I was.”

“That’s tough. But surely, here, they’d understand? After all, a lot of gay people go into show business”

“I don’t want to take the risk. Once I get in, then I’m not too bothered who knows, but I’m not making a thing about it.”

The last few applicants returned from their interviews, so we set off on the tour of the college. I stayed with Mike, as I felt we were kindred spirits, of sorts. He seemed to want to stick close to me, and Katy also found me and we walked around together.

It was a college, so it had all the necessary facilities that I expected. It was fancier than school, but not a lot more so. At the end, we all assembled in the theatre. Now this building impressed me. It was a replica of an old theatre, with around a thousand red seats and balconies and boxes. I breathed in the atmosphere and suddenly really wanted that place.

We were all sitting in the front few rows when Mrs Faulkner made her way onto the stage and a hush settled upon us.

“Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you’ve enjoyed the tour of the college, we are proud of our facilities, and this theatre is the piece de resistance. We have deliberated about all who have been interviewed and have made decisions as to who will be returning in September to start their two years with us.

“I order to facilitate this process, we are leaving five places unfilled for any who don’t make it on the first round of interviews, to appeal for a place. The quality of applicant has been very high this year, so we would like to ensure every opportunity is offered to those who have not been selected this time around. If I read your name out, then I’m sad to say, you have not been successful, and I would ask you to leave the theatre, collect whatever belongings you have and meet up with your parents or friends who should be waiting for you at the front of the college. If you feel that you’d like to try for one of the five extra places, then please collect an appeal form from Mrs Frobisher by the door on your way out, and we will be in touch. Thanks for taking part, and I wish you well in your search for an alternative college.”

She then read out the list.

The first shock was the redhead wasn’t selected. Her name was Miranda Salter and she looked completely devastated when her name was read out.

I glanced at Mike, he was very pale, and he looked back at me very nervously as the names kept coming.

“…and finally, Jessica Robinson. That concludes the selection, so many congratulations to all those left sitting here, we look forward to seeing you all again in September. There is a pack for you to collect in the college office before you leave.” She then walked off the stage, her heels making an exaggerated sound on the bare boards.

“Shit, I made it!” I said, turning and seeing who else had. I was pleased to see Katy, who grinned at me, waving furiously.

“Oh my God, I’m in!” Mike said, as the reality hit him.

I stood up and left the theatre. Mum was waiting for me by the college office. I saw her pale and worried looking face peering at everyone as they passed. Many of the girls were in tears, particularly Miranda, who was almost in hysterics. Her mother was equally distraught, despite being enveloped in a huge fur coat.

Mummy saw me and I saw her frown. I grinned and gave her the thumbs up and her expression altered as a huge smile spread across her face.

I was so excited, as I told her about the interview and everything that happened. We were just leaving when I was tapped on the shoulder. It was Mike.

“Oh, hi Mike, well done!”

“Well done yourself. So, I’ll see you in September?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.”

He seemed to want to talk some more so I waited, as Mum unlocked the car.

“Um, I was wondering, where do you live?” he asked.

“Near Guildford, why?”

“I live in Woking, is there a chance we could meet, sometime?”

“Yeah, if you like,” I said, glancing around to check. “Are you sure you want to meet up with a girl?” I asked, pseudo-secretively.

He laughed and cuffed me on the shoulder gently.

“No, it’d do my image good. Besides, I know you have a boyfriend, so I’m safe with you.”

“You never know, I may be a nympho.”

He smiled. “Seriously, I’d like to meet up with you. I don’t actually have that many friends.”

I felt quite sorry for him, besides, I was desperately curious about some things. I may have had my own problems, but I was still very naíve about many aspects of life.

“Okay, give me your number and I’ll give you a ring.”

We exchanged numbers and went on our separate ways.

“That boy seemed keen on you,” my mother said, as we drove home.

“No, he wasn’t, mum, he doesn’t like girls, but he’s nice.”

Her expression was priceless. “He’s too young to know that!” she said.

“Like I was too young to know I wasn’t a boy?”

“That’s different!”

“No it isn’t. He’s as sure he can be, at the moment. He can’t tell his parents, so imagine what he must feel like!”

She went quiet. I didn’t rub it in, but knew I’d scored a point. I wished that people could be more open and understanding. My mother of all people, who’d been simply wonderful with me, wasn’t really able to comprehend the complexities of human sexual and gender conditions.

I changed the subject and the matter was forgotten.

Life returned to normal. I wanted to call Doug and tell him the good news, but he was in America. We were still ‘kissing friends’ but I for one was beginning to feel restricted by our relationship. It wasn’t that there was anyone else, I just wanted to see what life had to offer without being tied to one person.

I was surprised when Mike called that very evening. I found myself agreeing to meet him in Guildford for a Chinese lunch and a movie the next day.

We met at the Kowloon House and had the 50p special lunch. Our conversation immediately took off from where we finished yesterday. He seemed to need to share his story, as if he’d never told anyone before.

“So, what happened at your public school?” I asked.

“Again, there were no girls, so in the plays, boys would play the girls’ parts, just like you. I was a treble in the choir, so when we put a musical on at Christmas, I was given the female lead opposite a big lad called Ronnie Hutchison.

“Ronnie was seventeen and in the first XV. He was a man, broad with a deep baritone voice. We rehearsed for a couple of months, and one day he asked me if I’d like to meet him in his study to rehearse.

“I mean, I was just fourteen and he was a sixth former. This was a real privilege, but I was so innocent, I didn’t think anything of it. Anyway, I went and he’d give me hot chocolate and some nice cake. He never touched me, but asked if I’d wear one of the costumes to rehearse. The musical was a 1950s American piece, Guys and Dolls, so I had a red dress that he seemed to like. He said it was too risky to do this in his study, so I agreed to meet him in the Air Cadet hut after lights out.

“I went a bit early, taking the dress, a wig, shoes and some make up. So when he arrived, I was already dressed. He didn’t say anything for a while, so I thought he was upset.” Mike paused.

“I’d never realised how powerful sex is,” he said, twirling some noodles round his fork.

“You had sex?” I asked, slightly shocked, but trying not to show it.

“I didn’t know anything about gay sex. In fact, I knew nothing about sex, period. Only what other boys had told me, or what I’d read. It was funny, but I seemed to instinctively know what he wanted and how to please him. He was so afraid of hurting me, he was very sweet, really.”

This was bugging me.

“You had sex?” I repeated, dying to know the details.

“Not really, he rubbed himself against my bare bottom and came against me. It was rather nice, but it left me, how can I put it - unfulfilled?”

“So what happened?”

“He wanked me off.”

“Was that it?” I asked, slightly disappointed.

“For then. We almost got caught by one of the teachers, so we never met there again. I never fully dressed up for him again either, as it was too risky. He would buy me girl’s underwear, so I’d wear it for him in his study. He seemed to know that what we were doing was wrong, whereas I hadn’t a clue. I just know I adored the attention and he treated me so well.”

“How long did this go on for?”

“A year. He left after A levels. I haven’t had anyone since. I’ve now learned that he could have gone to prison for what he did to me.”

“What did he do?” I asked, hopefully.

“We had sex about twelve times, in his study. I occasionally used to sleep with him, but it got too risky, so things cooled off. I think someone knew and was telling tales behind our backs, for I was called into the headmaster and given a stern lecture about sexual deviance. Ronnie left school a bit early, after taking his exams. They said it was because of a death in the family, but I think they knew we were lovers.”

“That’s awful. Wasn’t there anyone you could talk to?”

He looked at me, his big, sad eyes almost in tears.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

I felt humbled. “Shit, really?”

He nodded.

“Wow, that’s awful too. Do you know what happened to him?”

“No. I tried to find out, but failed. I decided to move on.”

“Are you sure you’re gay, and not just bi or confused?” I asked.

“Were you sure you weren’t a boy?”

I nodded, feeling sheepish. “Point taken. So, wouldn’t you like to be a girl?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. After hearing about what happened to you, I thought about it a lot last night. I’ve never wanted to be a girl, and I think I still don’t. I just like boys and that’s it. I don’t identify myself as a girl or anything. I don’t dress up or want to look effeminate.”

Nodding, I finished my sweet and sour pork with rice.

“Then at least we can be friends,” I said, with a smile. “Only if you promise not to steal my boyfriends.”

He smiled as we shook hands across the table. “Deal!” he said. “But, can I have first dibbs on them when you’re finished with them?”

As we drank our coffees, I looked at Mike closely. He was taller than I was by a couple of inches, but he was very slender. He wasn’t especially effeminate, but his hair did make him look less macho, but then, it was fashionable.

He was fine featured, so I wondered what he’d look like as a girl. He caught me looking at him in a funny way.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“No, go on, you were looking at me strangely, why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was being silly.”

“Please?”

“I was wondering what you’d look like if you did dress as a girl. I reckon you’d be very pretty.”

He smiled. “Tough, I’m not doing it.”

“Okay. I never suggested it. As I said, I just wondered, that’s all.”

I drank my coffee and he stared into his cup.

“I often used to pray to be like everyone else, and not to be gay. I felt sort of let down and forgotten, as if God doesn’t care,” he said.

“I don’t know about that. I think that we, that’s people, we are sort of less than perfect, and we somehow enjoy our imperfect side. I don’t know much about being gay, straight or transsexual, but I know what I felt like, I was supposed to be a boy, yet I felt as if I was a girl. It wasn’t as if I did it deliberately. It’s just the way I was. I suppose it’s the same for you?”

He nodded. “I used to wonder why. Whether it was because my dad wasn’t around, or my mum made me feel special. Then I thought it must have been genetic, but in the end, I’m still no wiser. I just feel gay, I like men, so the thought of a man making love to me turns me on.”

“Me too,” I said, grinning.

We had a super afternoon. We saw the latest James Bond movie. I thought Sean Connery is very sexy, so did Mike. It was weird, as it was like going around with another girl!

I caught the bus home after asking Mike over for the day on the following Saturday. It was very quiet in our house, as both Shelly and Rob were away, and I knew Dad would be playing golf, so some company would be fun.
 
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 4
 
 
To Be Continued...