Totally Insane 6 — Sequel

Totally Insane 6–Sequel
by Angharad

We found our way back to the car, after I had visited the loo once again, my little bottom was quite sore. Dr Brown had given me some loperamide to stop the problem, or more correctly, I should say, he’d given me a prescription for some of the pills which my mother went to get while I sat and trembled in the car.

It was nearly eleven o’clock as Mummy returned to the car. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Glad that’s over,” I replied quietly.

“I’ve got all the pills, do you want to take some?”

“Not without a drink,” I replied; I hated taking pills, but I didn’t think she’d mash them up in jam like she did when I was younger.

“There’s a cafeteria in Morrison’s, let’s pop in there and get a drink and maybe a cake.”

“Can’t we just go home?”

“We could, but I need one or two things anyway, I just thought it would be the quickest way for you to take your pills. There’s also a toilet there.”

That settled it. We went to the supermarket. I can’t say it was my favourite place on earth, but it was okay. I often helped my mother shopping–something Brian wouldn’t do if he could avoid it–so frequently Mummy did it by herself.

We entered the store and I trotted off to the loo only to be met with, “Whoa, young lady, in that one, I think.” The voice belonged to a large middle aged man who pointed at the door of the ladies.

“Sorry,” I said blushing, and darted through the door with the stereotyped picture of a woman on it. Thankfully, there was no queue. I scuttled into the cubicle and pulled my skirt up and my panties down. My tummy made horrible gurgling noises but all I did was to liberate some foul gases in a long rippling bum burp!

Mummy came in and gently called my name. I answered her and after redressing, met her by the washbasins where I washed my paws and dried them with one of those hot air things, which do everything but dry your hands.

In the cafeteria, I had some milk and a doughnut while Mummy had a coffee and scone. She pulled the pills from her handbag and read the instructions, I was supposed to take two, but we agreed I’d try one for now. I swallowed it with the milk.

“I think that went quite well, don’t you?” She said as she sipped her coffee.

“Which bit are we talking about?” I asked putting down my beaker of milk.

“With Dr Brown, I knew he’d be sympathetic.”

“How much will the appointment with the other doctor cost?” I asked, almost frightened to learn the answer.

“That is no concern of yours, darling, that’s for Daddy and me to work out.”

“Thank you, anyway.”

“You’re welcome; this is such a revelation,” she said smiling broadly.

“What is?” I asked with a degree of bewilderment.

“Having such a delightful daughter; I can’t imagine your brother being so sweet.”

“Maybe if you asked Dr Brown to refer him to a troll doctor, he’d be more pleased.”

She smiled, “I don’t think that’s likely.”

“Pity!” I added with a shrug.

“Now, now, Kylie, that’s enough of that; drink up, let’s get the shopping done. How’s the tummy?”

“A bit easier, thank you.”

“Thought so, you look better.”

“What do I do if we see anyone from school?” I asked anxiously.

“Smile sweetly and ignore them. They should all be in school anyway, so I would take issue with them and the school if anyone does recognise you.”

“They may be sick as well, or a hospital or dental appointment,” I began to build all sorts of catastrophic events.

“Here, stop worrying and push the trolley.”

We worked our way around the store and I helped pack the groceries into some bags and carry them back to the car. I felt exhausted. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure there’s nothing else you want?” Mummy asked.

“No, just to go home, I feel really tired.” I yawned to emphasise my point.

“Oh, okay, sweetheart, after all, there’s always next weekend,” my mother actually cooed at me.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I said accusingly.

“Of course I am, so would you if the positions were reversed.”

“What, tormenting my child?” I wasn’t being too nice.

“Kylie, if I didn’t think you were joking, I’d be rather upset at that remark.”

I shrugged my shoulders, it was a bit unkind on reflection, so I apologised. “Sorry, Mummy; I’m just very tired and uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable, what your tummy?”

“All over really.”

“Come on, let’s get home then.”

We got home and had a light lunch, I was too tired to eat much and I still didn’t trust my tummy, which had punished me all morning. Maybe, this pretending to be a girl wasn’t such a good idea. However, staying home and having a sleep, was. My mother went back to school and I went up to lay on top of my bed. I took the skirt and top off and nodded off in just my bra and panties.

I really did zonk out, awaking a while later when I heard some noises from downstairs. I assumed Brian must be home, and my eyelashes sticking together reminded me I still had makeup on. I quickly threw on the skirt and top from the morning and slipped into the shoes.

I stole downstairs and followed the noises emanating from the kitchen. I walked in prepared to stand my ground against my elder sibling, if necessary making threats to tell tales. Well, it was all in keeping with the role play.

My red shoes clopped slightly on the ceramic floor of the kitchen and I was eye to eye with my father! Oh sh..oot!

“And who might you be, young lady? If either of those boys has been doing anything they shouldn’t be, there will be trouble.”

“No, they haven’t,” I replied quietly.

“Have you just woken up?” asked my dad.

“Yes,” I yawned to prove the point.

“Would you like a cup of tea, I’ve just made a pot?” He hadn’t recognised me, had my mother told him, or was she simply saying it to threaten Brian? This could get difficult.

“Yes please, Daddy.”

“Excuse me?” he said doing a double take. “Kyle?”

I nodded my head and felt close to tears.

“Jesus Christ!” He put the teapot very carefully on the table, “Please sit down and tell me what the hell is going on here.”

I, of course, burst into tears in true girly fashion and couldn’t say anything coherent for some time. He poured some teas, too embarrassed to do anything else, then eventually he came and hugged me. Of course I blubbed all over him but he at least softened a little.

“Your mother said something about some nonsense of your wearing a girl’s uniform to school or something and Brian being behind it all. I didn’t expect to find you still wearing…well dressed up as a girl. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all.”

“Are you cross with me?” I sobbed.

“Not cross, confused I think sums it up a bit more succinctly. How long has this been going on and why aren’t you in school?”

“Since Friday, and the doctor told me to stay home for a week.”

“The doctor? Why are you sick?”

“I don’t know, he’s sending me to a psychiatrist.”

“What for?”

“To see if I’m trans..erm..gendered, that’s it, transgendered.”

“You’re not are you?”

“I don’t know, Daddy, that’s why I’m seeing her.”

He cuddled me, “I think your mother has some explaining to do, are you going to stay dressed like that?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, I suppose not, it was a bit of a shock, that’s all. If you prefer it, no it’s okay for now, just stay in-doors.” He stopped and considered what he’d just said. “You didn’t go to the doctor’s like that did you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! Well for the moment, I think you’d better stay in. Your mother and I need a bit of a talk.”

“Don’t be cross with Mummy, she’s only trying to do what she thinks is best.”

“I always thought you were a bit of a wimp, I never in a million years thought you were,” he paused, “like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “If you are, I suppose it isn’t your fault especially. I suppose it explains why you don’t like sport very much.”

“I played badminton on Saturday.”

“What! Like that?”

“No, in a tennis skirt.”

“What!”

“Philip and I came runners up in his club mixed doubles.”

“What, you came second?”

“Yes, we’d have won it, except I got cramp in my leg and had to retire.”

“You played badminton as a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that deceitful?”

“A bit, Philip couldn’t get anyone else to partner him.”

“Who’s Philip?”

“Philip Gonnersall, from school.”

“Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“Erm…” I blushed very red.

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Erm…”

“So, does that make you gay as well?”

“I don’t know, Daddy,” I managed to blurt out before dissolving in tears.

“Does it or doesn’t it?” He seemed to be talking to himself as I clutched to him, “If you’re really a girl, then it isn’t or is it? Talk about complicated. At least you can’t get pregnant. Thank heaven for small mercies.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I blubbed.

He went off to the cloakroom and I sat at the table and tried to dry my eyes without getting mascara all over my face.

“Hello faggot,” said Brian loudly as he came in.

“You can retract that and apologise to Kyle, NOW!” said my father as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi dad, nothing, apologise to your bro…sister, this minute.”

“Okay, sorry Kylie.” The look in his eyes was more angry than apologetic.

“Kylie, so that’s what you’re calling yourself, is it?”

“That’s what they call him in school most of the time,” offered my vengeful sibling.

“Is this true?”

“Course, innit Kylie?” said Brian, stirring malevolently.

“Well?” asked my father.

“Sometimes.” I said and shrugged, feeling tears again. I longed for my mother to return home and rescue me from all these questions.

“How long has all this been going on?” asked my father to no one in particular.

“Ages,” said my brother, smirking at me, he was enjoying turning the screw.

“Is this true?” my father asked his voice sounding concerned.

“Yeah, he, I mean she’s as queer as a four pound note.”

“Brian, that is not helpful, if anything it is unhelpful. It’s also self-contradictory, how can your brother be homo–gay, if he’s really a she?”

Brian shrugged, “Dunno, can I go now, I have homework to do?”

“Yes, go along.”

“Well, what are we going to do with you Kyle–ee?”

“I don’t know,” I sat looking at the floor.

“If you’re going to be a girl, then you can help your mother by scraping some potatoes for dinner. Do you know what she’s planned for dinner?”

“We bought some pork chops earlier.”

“You went shopping as well, dressed like that?”

“Yes, why?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, do the potatoes and whatever other veg you can find.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I have some reports to draft, I’ll be in the study,” with that he went off clutching his briefcase.

I was up to my eyeballs with potatoes and carrots when Mummy came home.

“How’s my favourite girl?” said my mother as she came in, “Ooh, doing the spuds, how kind, I could get used to this you know.”

I hugged her, “I don’t think Daddy feels the same,” I said emotionally.

“I’ll deal with your father,” she said with a determination that I hadn’t heard for quite a while. “Make me a cuppa will you and I’ll go and talk with him.”

“Have I done enough potatoes?” I asked as I boiled the kettle.

“Yes, that’s plenty, sweetheart, scrape half a dozen carrots and slice them, you know top ‘n tail them first, like we did on Sunday. Pop them on to boil, then turn it down to a simmer.

She put the chops on a baking tray and slipped them in the oven. She took her tea and one for my father and went off to the study. I tried not to think what they were saying, instead trying to concentrate on the tasks in hand, it wasn’t easy however, and I felt myself tremble several times. I really didn’t know where all this was going to go, nor did I know what I wanted out of it.

I turned the vegetables down to a simmer and checked the chops, they were cooking okay, I sat in the kitchen and worried over what was happening in the study. While I waited I laid the table, not so much to gain brownie points, but for something to do.

A few moments after I’d finished the phone rang. I answered it. “Hello?”

“Kylie?”

“Philip?”

“Yes you dozy female, who else knows about you?”

“Half the planet I expect with my luck.”

“How come?”

“Never mind, my dad came home and met me for the first time this afternoon.”

“Didn’t he know then?”

“Sort of, my mother told him over the phone.”

“Oh, what did he say?”

“He asked me who I was; he didn’t recognise me.”

“Oh wow, he didn’t recognise his own kid, weird or what?”

“Well, you can imagine how I felt.” I felt a blush coming on.

“Weird man, anyway, you still up for tonight, a bit more celebrating?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have to see what my parents say, can I ring you back?”

“Yeah, sure. See ya later, kiss, kiss,” he tittered.

I felt myself grow hotter. I replaced the handset and went to check the dinner. Everything was nearly cooked. What do I do now? If I disturb my parents it could have consequences.

I waited another ten minutes and turned off all the heat, it was going to spoil if I left it much longer. I decided I needed a decision from a higher authority. I knocked on the study door.

My mother answered, “Yes, poppet?”

“Everything is cooked,” I said feeling my anxiety levels rising.

“Have you made the gravy?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can, sweetie, like we did on Sunday.”

“I’d rather not.”

My mother looked at me, she was about to shoo me off when she changed her mind. “Okay, I’ll come now, switch it all off.”

“I have, Mummy.”

“Stuart, I need to go and sort out the dinner, Kylie has cooked most of it, we’ll finish this later.”

I heard my dad say, “Okay,” and my mother followed me to the kitchen. She checked everything, “Good girl,” she beamed at me, “I think I prefer this side of you to the sit-around boy one.”

I blushed and shrugged my shoulders, what could I say?

She made some gravy and dished up the food, I was sent to call Brian, who quietly insulted and threatened me. “Watch it nancy-boy, you won’t always have Mum and Dad to protect your femmy arse, and I’ll be waiting.”

“You started this, you moron!”

He retaliated by pulling my bra strap and letting it go with a slap. “Ouch, you pig,” I yelled.

“Brian, leave her alone,” shouted my mother, “how many times have I got to tell you?”

“You big fairy,” he hissed at me, “I’ll get you later.”

I gave him the finger and ran down the stairs before he could hit me. I nearly collided with my father as we ran into the dining room. “Boys, I mean kids behave will you, Brian stop chasing your sister I won’t tell you again.”

“Ha ha, even Dr Brown said he was a troll,” I smirked.

“I didn’t know it was a medical term,” said my father, “but it might explain a few things,” he smiled.

We ate dinner and I wondered how I was going tell them about Philip coming over, when my mother sorted the problem. “Who was on the phone earlier?”

“Erm, Philip, he wants to come over to tell me about the homework.” I blushed.

“An’ a quick snog, I’ll bet. I heard about the badminton match.” Brian gloated as I blushed even deeper red.

“What’s all this about?” demanded my father.

“His boyfriend kissed him after the badminton.”

“Her boyfriend, Brian, how many times do we have to tell you?” corrected my mother.

“Bloody fairy,” Brian hissed under his breath.

“Brian, you are grounded for a month.” My father decided enough was enough. “Kylie, your friend can come but no fooling about. If you are presenting as a young lady you’d better act like one, not a slapper. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I said wondering whether I’d been complimented or reprimanded.

“Yeth, Daddy,” Brian mimicked in an exaggerated manner.

“That, has just cost you a quarter of your next monthly allowance.” My father was getting tough.

“What! That is like, so unfair. That little fairy is being spoilt to death, and me, the normal one, is being punished.”

“I’m not punishing you for being normal, I’m fining you because you’re a bully and I don’t like bullying. Kylie is faced with making some huge decisions which could affect us all and all you can do is make stupid and unhelpful comments.”

Brian stood up to argue until my father added, “If I were you, young man, I’d think very carefully before you lose even more of your allowance.”

Brian hesitated and sat down, “Can I go up to my room?”

“Yes,” my father acceded and Brian gave me a look of pure malice as he left the room. “Don’t let him get to you,” reassured my dad, “If he tries it on, let me know.”

“I’ll be alright, Daddy.” I left it at that.

“You’d better go and call Philip, hadn’t you?” suggested my mother. So I did, he was coming over in half an hour, so I could help with the dishes. It wasn’t creeping, I just felt it was something I ought to do. Mummy and Daddy went back into the study, to continue their discussion, Brian was up in his room judging by the noise of punk music coming from it, and I was in the kitchen playing Cinderella.

I rinsed everything off and loaded the dishwasher, I was standing in front of it when my mother popped her head around the door and said, “Kylie, why don’t you pop and freshen up before Philip gets here, oh, and thanks for looking after the dinner. It’s really nice to have a daughter about the place.”

Before I could respond she’d gone back to the study with a bottle of wine and two glasses. I went up to the bathroom and redid my makeup and combed my hair, then squirted some of the smelly my mother had given me, around my throat. I was hardly a femme fatale, but I had attempted some effort.

Philip arrived about fifteen minutes later. As I answered the door my father emerged from the study and reminded us, ‘no hanky-panky’. I have rarely felt more embarrassed. If he had told Philip to treat his daughter with respect, it could hardly have been more cringe worthy.

“What was all that about?” asked Philip.

“Brian the troll, told them about you kissing me on Saturday.”

“Oh trust him, the arsehole!”

“Did I tell you my doctor called him a troll?”

“No, good diagnosis though.”

“Yeah, that’s like, what I thought, too.”

We talked about school and he showed me the homework. I copied the details and would do it tomorrow. He promised to bring me the next lot tomorrow, I suppose I should have been grateful but somehow, having homework to do didn’t like, set me alight with gratitude. I suspected that Mummy would want me to do some housework too. This being a girl was hard work.

We sat together at the dining table, and Philip rubbed his foot against my leg and kept winking whenever I gave him eye contact. He seemed to have no problem with my new status. He even risked a kiss or two, but my heart was beating so loudly, I thought my parents must be able to hear it through the wall.

After Philip left, my parents summoned me to the study. “Kylie, this is what we have decided,” said my mother in a no-nonsense kind of way. “You can stay as a girl for the week, so you can get a little practice in and get a bit more of a feel for the role. As we don’t know when the appointment is going to come through for the specialist, we can’t plan that yet. Any questions?”

“Erm, what if I want to go back to being a boy before then?”

“Reasonable question,” said my father, “unfortunately, I think we’d prefer you to stay in girl mode, so you can get as much experience as possible during the week.”

“What about if I have to go out?” I asked, wondering if all this was a good idea.

“You seemed to cope quite well yesterday with the doctor’s and the supermarket.”

“What if someone asks me to baby sit?”

“You don’t have to accept it, but I think only the two you’ve already sat for, will be in touch for that sort of thing. As for your locksmith thing, they’ll have to get used to seeing a girl or you can refuse to help.”

They seemed to have thought through most things, which was confirmed by my father saying, “While you’re home this week, you can help out around the house, do a bit of housework or laundry and start the evening meals. It’ll be good practice if you need to look after a boyfriend or husband.”

I felt myself go pale, boyfriend, husband that was further ahead than I wanted to go for now at least. Oh boy, they were getting serious, all because that nincompoop brother of mine wanted a love letter back from his ex-slut girlfriend. Somehow, none of it seemed quite fair, yet I know my parents were making huge leaps in adjusting to my apparent situation. Part of me felt worried about it all, another was enjoying it. I looked at my nails; I needed to re-varnish them–tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any errors, etcetera are entirely my responsibility for missing them, so blame me - Gabi, not Angharad.



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