Kiss Me, Bianca: 1

 

Shakespeare's TAMING OF THE SHREW is one of the greatest of The Bard's plays, BUT in these days of female assertion and the 'Me Too' movement, this show about female subservience offers a lot of challenges. A long time actor in a semi-professional Shakespearean troupe finds himself unexpectedly cast in the part of Kate's younger, cuter, more flirtatious sister, Bianca, by a director who wants to challenge her actors and society.
His preparation for the role required him
to open doors to parts of himself that he never knew he had!

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Author's Note: I would like to thank everyone who has commented on my story of A Boy Named Brook. His adventure has ended - for now, and I shall introduce you to more of my works. Kiss Me, Bianca is one of my more drawn out stories and I believe, more appropriate, for this type of audience. I am down and under the weather, I have more stories in the works, but they take a back burner somewhat to what I am dealing with at the moment.
I would like to ask all of you that read my story to please, possibly leave me a review here? It can be both good or bad.
I would love to hear your thoughts on if I am doing great at writing or maybe messing up somewhere and need to retool my efforts?
I am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
This version of Kiss Me Bianca: 1 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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THE AUDITION - or - "THE PLAY'S THE THING."
 

"Hi, mom," John called as he let the front, screened door of their moderately sized, summer cottage close behind him.

Marilyn wiped her hands clean on a dish cloth and stepped away from the kitchen island where she was cleaning up after having just put the apple pie into the oven. She looked into the large living room and smiled at her son. "Hi, honey? How did it go?"

"Good, I think!" He rain his fingers along the Van Dyke beard he'd maintained for three years, since he was a high school junior. "This director seems interesting. I looked her up. She's done some big stuff in New York and LA. Her productions are always different from everyone else and she's won a bunch of awards. We're lucky to have her! I think it'll be a great show, whether I get a lead or not."

"That's the attitude I like to hear," Marilyn gave her son a brisk pat on his shoulder and smiled before she hugged him. "What roles did you read for?"

"Petruchio, Lucentio, Biondello... most of the male roles."

Marilyn nodded.

"She also had all the guys read for women's roles and vice-versa as well."

"Really!?" She laughed at the absurdity of having wasting time at an audition to do what was obviously a theater class exercise.

"Yeah," John laughed, too. "She's definitely quirky, but, like I said, she's got the track record to back it up."

"Did you make it clear that you're a veteran performer with the CCSR?" The Cale Cod Shakespearean Rep was a long standing, semi-professional organization that picked two plays to rehearse and perform in various parks on The Cape every summer. The troupe had been running every summer since 1976. Marilyn's mother had been one of the founding members. Marilyn had grown up performing with them every summer and so had her older daughter before John joined as well. At 20 and a theater performance student at Emerson College, John had become a cornerstone of the group. Since being in the ensemble and having just one line in a production of "The Two Gentlemen Of Verona" when he was twelve, John had been bitten by the Shakespearean-theater-bug. He grew his Van Dyke in the summer following his junior year of high school in order to look more mature as Rosencrantz in "Hamlet" then, last summer, had played Romeo and received rave reviews.

"I gave her my head-shot. I'm sure she saw that I'd been in a lot of CCSR shows."

Marilyn smiled a beam of pride at her little boy. God, time had flown with this one! Twenty years old, already. Her baby. She was so proud of him! He was 'quirky' too, though. The Van Dyke whiskers weren't all that different from other college students, but the boy-bun that he and a lot of his CCSR friends maintained for the summer productions just looked foolish to her. But - you know what? - if that's the worst thing he did, who cares. He was a good boy, a talented actor and extremely dedicated to his art. She knew that he'd go a long way, just like her daughter had.

As Marilyn returned to cleaning up, John's phone sounded and, simultaneously, John's friend, Ed, knocked on the back door.

"Come on in, Ed!" John called. "I gotta take this!"

Ed entered and said hello to Marilyn. His same Van Dyke beard and boybun made her smile, again. 'These boys,' she thought and shook her head.

"How did your audition go, Eddie?" she asked.

"Great!" He smiled. "I got Lucentio! It's my first big role!"

"That's wonderful, Eddie!" Marilyn smiled. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks! How about John? What did he get?"

"I don't know, yet, but I suspect that he's finding out now."

They turned their attention to John who wasn't looking all that happy. "No, no... I understand, Ms Weldon, but I'm just really surprised. I didn't expect this offer.... Oh, I do, Ms Weldon, really, I am very aware of the importance of the role, I just... well, you know, I am just caught off guard... Uh, huh... uh, huh... uh, huh."

"I wonder what she offered him," Ed whispered to Marilyn.

John turned to face them. He had a strange look on his face. Ed held his palms up and raised his shoulders asking John to explain.

John held up a finger and continued talking into the phone, "Thank you, Ms Weldon, but I think I need to think about it... ok... I'll call you back within an hour... ok, a half-hour, then. Thank you. Thank you, I appreciate your confidence in me. I will call you back."

He hung up and a silence fell over the kitchen for a few moments before Ed said, "Well!?"

John sighed and shook his head before sitting. "She offered me Bianca."

"What!?" the other two said together.

"Yeah, Bianca. The sexy, flirty, younger sister of Kate. The one that's got all the suitors after her. Bianca."

"Oh, my goodness!" Marilyn shouted. "Is she nuts!? How could a boy play Bianca? I played Bianca when I was in my teens!"

"She says that she's doing it as a 'gender-blind' casting. She says that Bianca is usually a caricature of the pretty girl and she wants to explore the character differently."

Ed was too excited to see John's stress. "I'm playing Lucentio! So, if you play Bianca, you'll be my wife at the end of the show!"

"Oh, my God!" John slammed his head onto the table in a show of frustration. I'd at least hoped that Lucentio would be a girl!"

"Are you taking the role?" Marilyn knew that John was in shock, but she also knew that he'd be miserable all summer if he didn't participate in a show.

"Should I?"

"Of course, you should!" Ed shouted, confused as to how John could even consider saying no. "It'll be great, buddy! We'll be partners, just like when we were Rosencratnz and Guilderstein!"

"Ed!" John shook his head at his friend's obliviousness, "we'd be husband and wife! I'd have to kiss you! I wanted to play Petrucchio or any other guy-part! This is a lot to think about! My teachers spend the summer at The Cape. So do some of my classmates! They'll see this! What if I'm a joke! I'll never get cast in anything at Emerson, again!"

"But, if you nail it, honey," Marilyn said, "then they'll cast you in EVERYTHING!"

That stopped John and he rubbed his whiskers as he pondered that. "Hmm... I'd have to shave my beard."

"It'll grow back," Ed grinned.

John nodded and rubbed some more.

"Mom? What do you think?"

"Well," Marilyn struggled to see all sides of the issues. "Obviously, she has faith in you and you said that she's got a great resume... it won't be easy, honey, but I think that you should consider doing it. I mean, can you think of a bigger challenge? It's not Stanley Kowalski or Jean Valjean, but it is a big role. And, in the age of 'Me Too,' with women challenging the norms of societal roles, you might learn a lot by playing a woman who is, for all intents and purposes, being treated as a property by her father. I think you should do it."

"Come on, bud! I need you there to help me!" Ed rubbed his hands in excitement.

John put his hands in his pockets and paced the far wall a few times while he considered all of the possibilities and finally shrugged and said, "What the hell... I'll do it!"

Marilyn clapped her hands and Ed ran to his smaller friend and lifted him off the floor, spinning him around while he shouted, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is going to be awesome!"

After three turns, Ed dropped John to the ground and gave him a big hug. When the hug broke, he leaned John backwards in the classic 'damsel' pose and planted a long kiss on his lips.

"What the fuck!" John shouted as Ed raised him back to a standing position.

"Now, it won't be awkward when we have to do it in rehearsal!" Ed laughed as he shouted goodnight and ran out the door before his friend could wallop him.
 
THE SHAVE - OR - "YOU HAD MORE BEARD WHEN I LAST SAW YOU."
 

An hour later, John was staring at his cherished Van Dyke in the mirror with the clipper attachment on his shaver buzzing in his hand. "Goodbye, old friend," he mumbled at the reflection. Then he sighed and went to work. Five minutes later, his lip and chin were smoothly shaved.

He stepped out of the bathroom and found his mother waiting to see him. "Wow! You look five years younger!"

"Great! I look fifteen!"

"Oh, stop it. You know what I mean!" She inspected his face more, then said, "You need to get rid of the sideburns, too, honey. I know that they're just short strips, but you need to get rid of those. Come on back in. I'll help you."

They reentered and Marilyn grabbed the razor and leaned his head to the side.

"I can do it myself, mom."

"Not if you can't see it, Bianca," she teased, causing John to laugh. "I used to trim your father's facial hair, you know. This isn't new to me."

John went limp and let her go at it.

"Just before we divorced," he giggled, "I took my frustration out on his mustache and 'accidentally' cut off a third of it with one stroke of the razor." She laughed at the memory. "That sounds immature, I'm sure, but I did it."

John had no memories of his father. He left when John was two and he'd had any contact with him since. The story made him laugh in spite of the fact that he had to agree that it was an immature way to behave.

When she'd finished both sides, she inspected his face more closely. It looked good - young, smooth and just the slightest bit feminine. "Do you need to shave anywhere else? Pits? Legs? Bikini area?"

John shook his head and laughed at her teasing. "Just the face, mom. That's all."

Marilyn turned him towards the mirror and pulled his boy-bun loose, letting his hair fall to the middle of his back. She grabbed a brush and gave him a quick brushing. "I think you can do this, honey. Look, you look pretty already. Get some sleep, now. What time is your read-through ?"

"Nine. We're all having breakfast together to hear her concept and then doing the read through with all of her edits." He sighed.

"You'll be great! Good night, honey."

"Good night, mom."
 
THE READ THROUGH -or- "THE PLAY'S THE THING"
 

The buffet was great! Bagels, eggs, bacon, fruit, croissants, waffles - everything that young, hungry actors love to eat, or wrap in napkins and tuck in their bags for later. Ed had gone up three times and was well into his third bagel when Corinna Weldon stepped up onto a podium and called everyone to attention.

"Good morning, my brilliant cast!" she called out cheerfully.

"Good morning!" They all called back.

"Alright, boys and girls, we have two weeks to put this all together. We've got two plays to mount, "The Taming Of The Shrew" and "Henry V," and very little time to do it. In both shows, I have cast the best actors into the roles - regardless of whether or not that person is the same gender as the role. I think that Master Shakespeare would approve of this, don't you?"

The actors all chuckled at that.

"So, let me introduce the casts. First, 'Henry V'..." she went on to introduce each actor. Ed and John knew a lot of the actors from previous CCSR productions, but there were new faces, too. John couldn't help but notice that the only gender reversals in that production were a few smaller men's roles being filled by women. That wasn't even an odd thing. They always ran short of male actors for the smaller, unpaid roles.

"Now, for 'The Taming Of The Shrew.' Let's start with our Kate, Rose Bennington."

The actress stood and John felt his heart sink to the floor. 'Oh, no,' he thought, 'not Rose.' Rose was a tall, elegant girl he knew and lusted after from Emerson. She was a year ahead of John and had never given him the time of day, even when they'd shared the boards in a production of 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' two years ago. Granted, John had played a very small role, but he still had felt that she'd shunned him.

"Stand up, stupid." Ed was shaking John's shoulder, reviving him from his thoughts. "She called your name, stupid. Stand up!"

John could hear the applause and stood and waved to everyone.

"Just to clarify," Ms Weldon explained, "I cast John as Bianca to make a point. Bianca is usually played as a frivolous and pretty little airhead and I'd like John to play the role exactly as written to emphasize that this type of character is not strictly a female, airhead archetype, but rather, she is a bold and intelligent woman who has limited channels through which to express her intellect and intelligence. John will be in full, female costume, but we will not disguise the fact that he is a male in the program. I want to challenge the audience's ability to see a male in this role. Maybe then they'll understand the frustrations of a young, attractive female."

Everyone applauded while John blushed and looked over at Rose, who waved back at him. Well, at least something good came from this! Rose finally smiled at him. He waved back.

At 10:30, the two casts broke apart and went into two different rooms to begin the process of reading through their plays. Each was handed a script contains Ms Weldon's edits and they began reading. John was not overly comfortable with the flirting scenes that introduced Bianca to the audience, but as the play went on, he began to admire her spirit and conviction. He grew to like her.

He was also pretty excited to see how many times Bianca and Kate shared the stage together. That meant that he'd be sharing rehearsal time with Rose! He seemed to be more comfortable speaking to her than to the suitors, except for Ed, of course.

When he reached the line,

"Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
To make a bondmaid and a slave of me.
That I disdain. But for these other goods--
Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself"

He delivered it with a controlled, feminine vehemence that even surprised himself. Rose watched him as the character overtook him and he spit the words at her and she saw his proficiency as an actor shining through.

"Wow," she said quietly before directing her gaze back to the script and continuing the play.

When they'd finished, Ms Weldon, who'd been splitting her time between both rehearsals, encouraged them all to take a break, have a good lunch and be back in forty-five minutes, ready to start blocking the scenes with her assistant director and to get measured by the costumer.

"Want to split a pizza?" Ed asked as the stood and stretched their backs.

"Can't," John laughed, "I'm broke till we start getting paid. Sorry. I brought a salad."

"A salad!?" Ed was incredulous. "Since when do you eat salads?"

"Since my Theater Methods Professor told me I was getting pudgy."

"Hi. It's John, right?" John turned to see who was behind him and found Rose with a smile beaming at him. "I guess we're going to be sisters, huh?"

John glanced at Ed, who raised his eye brows a couple of times before excusing himself and heading to the door. John turned back to Rose and smiled. "Umm, Yeah, I'm John... and you're Rose, right? You probably don't remember me..."

"You're at Emerson, too, right. I think we did a show together, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we were in..."

"Tin Roof, right?"

"Yeah. That's right! I was just a stand in , but I got to watch you every night."

Rose looked at him for a moment with an odd smile on her face.

"Oh," John started to correct himself, "I don't mean like a stalker or anything. I just mean that I was in the wings and... well..."

"I know what you mean, don't worry."

Oh, my God, that smile. She was absolutely gorgeous!

"Wanna eat together?" Rose asked. "I don't know anyone else here."

It took a moment for the words to register before he shook the cobwebs out of his head and said, "Umm, well, yeah, that would be... great!"

They chatted about school and plays and people that they both knew. It was easy conversation and and the most relaxed meal John had ever shared with a woman. In fact, John had never really ever dated anyone. He'd gone to the prom with friends who were girls, but none were truly 'girlfriends.'

At one point, Rose told a story about a classmate who was known to have had a big ego, but lacked the talent to back that ego up. The story ended with the classmate's bravado being so broad that an audience member called out a remark that brought down the house. The story was hilarious and struck John in just the right way, making him guffaw with a mouth full of water, which ended up exploding out of his nostrils and causing them both to laugh even harder.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" John waved his hands while he continued to laugh. "Oh, what a mess!" He grabbed a napkin and began wiping up, still laughing.

As they gained control of themselves, Rose said, "You have an absolutely beautiful smile, did you know that?"

The statement embarrassed him a bit, but it also thrilled him and his smile grew even wider. "Really?"

"Yeah. Your teeth are big and bright and straight and you've amazing cheek bones. Have you auditioned for TV at all?"

Rose's gaze was taking in John's face with great detail and, suddenly, John felt a bit self conscious. His hand shot up to his mouth, covering it from Rose's scrutiny and his fingers traced the area which, until last night, he'd had whiskers.

"You had a goatee!" Rosie snapped her fingers an smiled at her realization. "That's what's different."

"Actually," John corrected, "I had a Van Dyke. A Van Dyke is a mustache and chin whiskers that are connected. A goatee is just the chin whiskers, like a goat..." he realized he was man-splaining. "Of course, I could have just acknowledged that I had had a beard and said 'yes' instead of being an asshole and prattling on and on..."

Rose laughed. "Prattling!? Did you say prattling!? That's adorable!" She laughed even harder as he blushed.

Before things got more awkward, a woman in her late twenties who was carrying a clipboard appeared at their table. "Kate and Bianca, right?"

They confirmed that they were.

"Are you ready to get measured? The costumer wants to start with you two. She's in that office, over there."
 
THE COSTUMER - or - FOR THE APPAREL OFT PROCLAIMS THE MAN
 

"Oh, the sisters!" The costumer, who's name was Jan, and, who was also responsible for hair and makeup as well, glanced up over the reading glasses that she was wearing halfway down her nose. Like all costumers, her own clothing was elaborate and Bohemian, gypsy-esque and flowing. "Up on the platform, big sister. Let's get you measured first. Ms Weldon is going to want you in costume ASAP so you can get used to them and you have the most costume changes." Then she turned to John and glanced over those glasses, again, saying, "And you have the most elaborate."

"Cool!" Rose clapped her hands in excitement and beamed with excitement at John. John, for his part, just pondered what 'most elaborate' constituted.

"What are you, five-six?" Jan asked.

"Five-seven."

Jan began measuring and calling numbers to her assistant. "Bust 35. Waist 27. Hips 36. Halfway between four and a six, I'd say."

"Yep. Frustrating, too. I can't just assume anything that will fit me."

"Don't worry," Jan continued as she wrote down a couple of notes on her own, "you'll be dressed beautifully. What size cup do you wear, 'B'?"

"Depends on the bra. I alternate between 'B' and 'C' depending on the style and my cycle. If I'm retaining water, then I'm definitely in a 'C'."

Jan wrote a few more notes. "Ok. Tomorrow, bring a push up bra with you. Obviously, I want you to look sexy, so your costumes will be a bit revealing. We want Petrucchio to have a reason, other than the bet, to lust after you. All set."

John had been measured for costumes dozens of times and he'd never heard a conversation like this one. Typically, it was quick and silent. Rose seemed pretty used to discussing things like bra cup sizes with this total stranger. As she stepped off the platform, she bounced to the floor and gave several excited claps, obviously excited by the prospect of wearing pretty clothes.

"And now, little sister, please hop up here." Jan indicated the platform.

John was still looking at Rose and the words 'little sister' did not rouse him from his revery.

"Your turn, John," Rose smiled at him. "Or, I suppose I should start calling you Bianca so that we get used to being sisters. You can call me 'Kate.'"

Jan appraised John for a moment, then said, "Well, you're about five-six, right?"

John thought about agreeing, but figured it may impact his costume, so he glanced at Rose before quietly saying, "Five-five."

"Boy, I'm not on my A-game today, am I?" Jan joked. "He's five-five," she said loudly to her assistant who wrote it down.

"Bust, 32. Waist, 26, that's good. Hips, 28. Don't worry about that, the skirts will have petticoats to fill them out. Ms Weldon may ask you to wear some padding during rehearsals until the costumes are ready, though. You should get some. You need a bra, too. I'll talk to her about some forms, but you can start by buying a push-up, Victoria's Secret has a good selection, and we need to talk about hair and make up, too."

She looked at John's confused face for at least ten seconds before he stuttered, "W... What?"

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "I'll make a list for you. You'll need to do some shopping. Tonight would be best so that I can get better measurements tomorrow."

"...ok..."

"Don't worry," Rose was giggling, "I'll go with you and help you get what you need. It'll be a nice to have some sister-time together."

"Excellent," Jan smiled. "We need to make this little fellow into a sixteenth century Kim Kardashian so the audience believes that men are drooling every time she walks past."

Then she had John come off the platform and had them stand next to each other.

"Hmm..." Jan appraised them. "Sisters, huh? I can see it, I guess." Then she spoke to her assistant, "They have similar eyes and cheeks. Luckily, Bianca's are a little plumper. That way we can make Kate a little more severe and Bianca more cherubic. Both of them need to have their hair colored, though. Call Stacy in Osterville and see if she can take them after 3 this afternoon. I'll speak to Ms Weldon about colors and style and send Stacy a list."

She inspected both of them carefully. Rose's hair was in a perky, high, rehearsal ponytail and John's was in his perennial boy-bun. "Let your hair down, please, girls. Let me see what I have to work with."

John pulled his hair loose and let it fall. It fell just below his shoulders and was very full, although a bit limp and lifeless. Rose's was much healthier looking and, despite the fact that they were both naturally dirty-blondes Rose's artificial highlights made her hair much prettier.

"I think I'd like to make you two contrast each other a bit, if you don't mind. Kate, I'd like to lighten you up a few shades and Bianca, I'd like to take you a really dark - black, with a few highlights to make it pop and look more natural. I'll send Stacy some ideas about what I want. She'll know what to do when you get there."

"Excuse me..." John interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Umm... I mean... I've done a lot of shows with the CCSR and... well... what I mean is, couldn't I just wear a wig instead of having my hair colored and all...?"

Jan folded her arms and thrust a hip out as she considered her response. "Listen, Bianca, I understand that a lot of us are new here, but the board of directors at the CCSR hired Ms Weldon and her team, which includes me, to come to Cape Cod and raise the level of your already excellent ensemble to the same level of professionalism as our productions in New York City. We don't do wigs unless we have to to do wigs and you know why? Because wigs don't look like hair - they look like wigs."

"John," Rose said quietly, "I don't think this is a fight you should take on. I mean, we're just students. Ms Weldon is a real pro! I think you should just go with their plan this summer. I don't know about you, but I'm here to learn from her. I'm coloring my hair, too. Come on. We'll do it together. It'll be fun."

John wanted to stand his ground and insist that a wig was suitable, but, much, much more than that, he wanted to be with Rose as much as possible in the hopes that she might see him as a suitable, if somewhat small, boyfriend.

He thought for a moment, then turned to Jan and said, "I'm sorry, Jan. I was just caught by surprised. I'm a bit overwhelmed, I guess. I'll do whatever you say. I promise."

Jan's anger melted immediately. "That's more like it, Bianca. Thank you. Now, you two scoot back to rehearsal and I'll speak to Ms Weldon. When you get a break, come see me. I'll have the address for Stacy's salon and a list of what Bianca needs to purchase ready for you. Save your receipts. We'll reimburse you for anything we need for the show. Oh, by the way, I watched a little of the read-through, this morning. You two are going to be great!"
 
PREPARING - or - ALL THINGS ARE READY IF OUR MINDS BE SO
 

The fifteen minute ride from Hyannis to Osterville took about forty-five minutes. Because they didn't leave until 4:00, the traffic on Rt 28 was heavy and slow. John would have felt more comfortable had he driven, but, since Ed had driven him to rehearsal that morning, he had no choice but to occupy the passenger seat of Rose's very cool Tesla. John had never ridden in something this quiet, or expensive, before. Rose had found his enthusiasm adorable, but she did have to admit that it was not 'her' car. Her parents had let her drive it down for the summer, rationalizing that the electric car would be nearly cost-free for the season.

'Stacy's Hair House' was right on Rt 28. It was a standard cape-style house that had been converted to a reasonably sized, full service salon. The sign that hung in front of the location read, 'Stacy's Hair House. Life may not be perfect, but your hair can be.'

"Hi! Hi!" the owner called as John and Rose entered. Stacy was a tall, lean, beautiful, African-American woman with a brilliant, infectious smile.

"Hi," Rose smiled, taking the lead, leaving John bewildered by his unfamiliar surroundings. "I'm Rose and this is John," he waved, "and Jan sent us over."

"Oh," Stacy seemed a bit surprised. "I was expecting," she grabbed her notes and checked the names, "a Kate and a Bianca."

"That's us!" Rose beamed. "I'm playing Kate and John is playing Bianca."

"Oh, I see." Stacy suddenly looked very serious. "Is that true, John? Are you 'playing' Bianca?"

John smiled, finding comfort in something familiar. His teachers a Emerson played these mind games all the time. "No, ma'am. I am not 'playing' Bianca. I am 'becoming' Bianca. I am 'inhabiting' Bianca. I 'am' Bianca."

Stacy's attitude relaxed and her dazzling smile returned. "Good, because I don't help people 'play.' I help people act. I help them find comfort in their roles. You understand that, too, Kate, correct?"

Rose smiled. She'd been duped by a pro. "I certainly do, Ms...?"

"Just call me Stacy and before I became a hair and makeup artist, I trod the boards for a decade or so. I retired to The Cape three years ago, but I know what Ms Weldon expects. Now, come on. We've got some work to do."

She worked alone, but quickly. She began with a shampoo and body treatment for each of them, applied the hair dye to each. After that came highlights.

At this point, they'd been there nearly and hour and a half. John had not been to a barber shop in years, but he did recall that his visits were usually limited to ten or fifteen minutes in the chair. No wonder his mother disappeared on Thursday evenings when she had her hair done.

Finally, the chemical bombardment of his scalp ended and his dirty blonde hair was a deep, dark black and Rose had golden blonde. Stacy said, "I'm going to do a light body-perm on you, Kate, but, Bianca, I'm going to show you how to straighten yours every morning.

John was relieved that he didn't need to get a perm, his hair was pretty curly, anyway, but... every morning? She must mean every show morning.

Stacy finished rolling curlers into Rose's hair, then she packed the front of her hairline with a big wad of cotton, applied perm solution to the curlers and told Rose to just sit and wait for a little while. John watched the whole process in rapt fascination. Rose just took it all in stride, chatting with Stacy the entire time.

Then, Stacy turned to John. "Well, my pretty," she imitated Margaret Hamilton as The Wicked Witch Of The West in 'The Wizard Of Oz,' "lets get you all ready." She produced a tool from her arsenal of hair dryers and other paraphernalia. "This is a flat iron and it's your new best friend. Every morning, before you leave the house, from now until the show closes, you need to spend a few minutes ironing it flat with this."

The machine had two arms that joined at the base and a cord running out from that, resembling a pair of electric salad prongs. The tips were paddle shaped to smooth the hair.

"This model steams as it irons adding hydration to your hair, which it needs, badly. You've been living in a boys world of salt water, salt air and too much sun with no consequences. Well, you're in a women's world now, young lady, and if you're to be believable, then hair-care is a priority. Clear?"

Stacy's speech had been well rehearsed and pretty intimidating. John nodded and whispered, "Yes."

"Good," Stacy plugged the device in.

"Everyday?"

"Everyday."

"Not just show days?"

"Everyday, Bianca. Are they paying you to become Bianca?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then do as I tell you and no more second guessing me. Everyday means everyday. End of story."

"Yes, ma'am."

Rose giggled at the exchange and pointed out some things to Stacy. "I was noticing John's cheek bones earlier. It's hard to tell, now, because he's not smiling, but when he laughs, those cheeks light up like a bride's. They're very attractive. He's got a gorgeous smile, too."

"Excellent," Stacy smiled as she checked that the iron was ready. "Ok, Bianca, it's very simple. You take a small amount of hair, like this," she separated a smallish strip of hair from the rest of his head using a pointed handled comb, then placed the open end of the iron near the base of the hair, "then close the iron around the hair. Pinch it lightly and push the 'steam' button and pull the iron, slowly, to the ends of your hair."

John saw that, where the iron had been used, his hair was a bit straighter, but not too much. Mostly, it just took out his frizzes. He could live with this.

Then, Stacy continued, "Then bring the iron back to your scalp and do it again, only this time, don't use the steam and squeeze the iron closed."

This time, the hair was perfectly straight. He'd never seen any part of his hair that straight.

"And when you get to the end, before you release it, roll the hair under for one full rotation. Hold it there and count to ten. Then release it. Isn't that pretty?"

John saw his now black, messy birds nest of curly hair with one straight section with a flip under at the end. It just looked odd to him, but to be sociable, he said, "Yeah... I guess."

Rose and Stacy exchanged knowing glances. "Men...!" the looks conveyed.

"Well I like it," Rose laughed. "I like the under flip, too."

Stacy nodded. "When I brush her out, that will give her the illusion of more thickness than she has. Although, she does have a lot of hair. That's going to help a lot."

'Her...? She...?' He hadn't signed up for this kind of silliness, but he'd let it run its course tonight. If he needed to talk to Ms Weldon in the morning, he would.

Once his hair was completely straightened, Stacy combed it so that it fell in front of his face. In a heartbeat, she'd trimmed a section so that he now had bangs that came to his eyebrows. She picked up the iron once again and gathered that section and rolled it just a bit. "Just turn your bangs about half way and hold them for five or six seconds. That gives them some body without being too rounded."

John sighed. "Ok."

"Oh, that's cute!" Rose smiled. "I love this look. It'll play beautifully from the stage."

"Thanks. I think it will, too," Stacy smiled as she finished up with a final brushing of John's hair.

He glanced in the mirror and thought he looked foolish. Like an actor in an old TV show making fun of early rock bands. Having been straightened, his hair was much longer than he'd expected, reaching to his shoulder blades, but Ms Weldon would never go for this. Come tomorrow, she'd see how silly he looked and let him off the hook. Even if he lost his summer job, it was still only June 23rd. He could still get a retail job before the tourists showed up. He'd miss his usual time at the CCSR, but, oh, well.

"I'm laying you back, again," Stacy said as she lowered John. "I need to clean up your brows, just a little bit. You're a little bushy for a woman."

She took a moment to outline his eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil, then turned to the counter, took what looked like and ice pack from an under counter fridge, did something he couldn't see, them turned back with a popsicle stick that had a small mound of warm wax on it. She quickly spread the wax around the area outside of her outline, then placed a small piece cotton on each.

The wax felt warm and relaxing and John said as much.

"Hold that thought," Stacy teased as she ripped the material from his face, taking the unwanted hair with it.

"Holy mother of pearl!" John screamed as his hands shot to his wounded brows. He'd never felt a pain quite like that before. The ongoing stinging was making his eyes water. "What the hell was that?"

Both Stacy and Rose were laughing at his discomfort.

Seeing his watery eyes, Rose tried to offer comfort, but the giggles wouldn't stop. "Aww, sweetie, I know it hurts, but we all go through it. I have eyes, pits, legs and even my most sensitive parts waxed every month. My mom has her upper lip done every week. You'll get used to it."

"Let me look at them," Stacy smiled as she pushed his hands away from his face. Then, she grabbed a pair of tweezers and plucked a few strays. "There we go. That's much nicer, now. Here," she handed him the ice pack. "Hold this on your forehead while I deal with your big sister."

For the next half-hour, Stacy removed Rose's perm-rods, washed and cut her hair and completed her makeup.

"Wow!" Rose exclaimed as she looked in the mirror, "I can't believe how good you made me look! I look like a movie star!"

John sat up to see. "Wow! You're even more beautiful than before!" Oops! How could he have said that out loud?

"Aww, you're so sweet!" She smiled at him and put her hand on his cheek. "Ohh, my little sister has some stubble on her cheek." She smiled again. "Your eyebrows are perfect, by the way. You're going to look so good!" Her enthusiasm was genuine and John was, once again, under her spell.

"Yeah?"

Rose nodded and smiled so sweetly, but Stacy interrupted. "Sit up for a moment, sweetheart."

He did and Stacy spread a sweet smelling lotion over the lower part of his face.

"What's this?"

"It's called 'Veet.' It's like Nair, But it works faster and lasts longer."

"Wait! How long does it work?"

"It should last about a month, but I'm going to suggest that you use it every two to three weeks all summer to stay smooth. You'll need to use it on your whole body, too. Do that tonight. Just rub it on and let it work for three minutes or so, then rinse it off. Easy as pie."

Alright - a month or two without a beard was ok. He could deal with that.

Stacy used a plastic paddle to scrap his face smooth, then wiped his face with a damp cloth. As she arranged her cosmetics, Rose rubbed his cheeks. "Very nice, sis." She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "I like you much better like this."

John smiled, but couldn't form words. He was glad that she was looking at his face and not his lap.

"Ok, Bianca. Almost done. Just let me do your makeup and take a few shots to send to Jan and Ms Weldon and you'll be good to go."

The end was in sight.

"Why don't you take note of what I'm doing to her," Stacy said to Rose. "I'm sure she'll need some help for a few days."

'Great!' John thought. 'This is not going to help her see me as a datable guy.'

Rose, however, was thrilled!

"Just a nice, slightly pale base to even her out. 'Bianca' means 'white' in Italian, so it makes sense to start our pallet a bit paler than the base I used on you. Make sure to bring it all the way down to her chest. Sun tans are a problem this time of year. Bianca is meant to be small and pale and vulnerable as well as sexual and manipulative. We need to draw attention to her breasts without being too overt about it."

Rose nodded and made mental notes as she watched.

"For her eyes, I want them to be big and round. So, we'll start with this light shadow and cover the whole eye. Then, a medium shadow and outline the shape of her upper eye. Nice and round, see? Then, blend it with your finger. See?"

"Wow, what a difference already."

"Yes, but here's the real trick. Take a good mascara - not some cheap garbage, but a real good mascara. I'll include a tube of this. You should use it, too. Close your eyes, Bianca. Start by brushing the top lashes down and getting them well coated. Now, look up, honey. Then, take your time and really coat the bottom lashes well, too. Most girls hardly touch those and they make all the difference."

"Oh, Johnny," Rose rubbed his shoulder as he was still reclined, "you're actually becoming Bianca, right before my eyes! You're going to love it when you see it!"

John doubted that.

"Finally, the lips," Stacy announced, "and this may sound weird, but watch. Take a little olive oil and add a few pinches of cinnamon. Mix it into a paste and use a Q-tip to apply it to her lips."

Why were they talking as if he were not even there?

"Let is sit for a couple of minutes, then add a little more, dry cinnamon and give it another two minutes. This all creates blood flow to the lips and makes them plumper and more full." She wiped the paste off. "See? That should last a good eight to ten hours."

"That's amazing. They really fattened up! They look very kissable, now." Rose ran her fingers across his mouth. Involuntary, he kissed her finger. She patted his lips, smiled and winked at him.

"Now, just a subtle outline with a red pencil and then, high gloss, rose-red lipstick."

"My favorite shade of red!" Rose giggled.

"Et voila!" Stacy helped John return to an upright position and he could, at last, see himself in the mirror. The problem was, there was no reflection of John. There was, however, the reflection of his 26 year old sister, Nancy, when she was in high school. There she was - black hair, bangs, big, pretty eyes, bright read lips, lovely facial structure. It was Nancy.

"Shit," John mumbled. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" Each got a bit louder.

"Well," Stacy grabbed her phone and moved in front of the chair, "you may not like it, but I need to send Jan and Ms Weldon pictures of today's little experiment, so stand together, please, girls and let me take a few shots."

"Oh, my goodness," Rose gushed, "I actually watched you go from being John to being Bianca. It was almost miraculous!"

"Yeah," John tried to regain his bearings, "miraculous."

As Stacy finished her pictures, packed them a bag of products and warned them both to wear hair nets to bed every night this summer, John's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from mom.

'Coming home for dinner?'

Damn! It was nearly seven and he'd not told her he was going out.

'Sorry. Still working. I'll grab a salad somewhere.'

'Ok. Love you. See you tonight.'

'Love you, too.'

Then they said their Thank yous to Stacy and headed out to the waiting Tesla.

"Can you drop me at my house in Hyannis?" John asked.

"Sure," Rose smiled, "but we need to stop at the mall and deal with this list, first. Luckily, the mall is in Hyannis, too."
 
THE MALL -or- "It's Capulets like you that make blood in the marketplace."
 

"Are you nuts!? I can't go to the mall looking like this!" John was horrified by the very thought of it, but Rose's car seemed to be unwavering in its direction.

"Why?"

"Why!?" Why!? I look like a clown!"

"Does your sister look like a clown?"

"What!? No! My sister is a beautiful woman, but I am not! Except for my face and hair, I still look like a boy. I'm flat-chested and I've got no curves. Besides, my sister, Nancy, doesn't look like this, now. She's a doctor and she's got shorter hair and looks more professional. I look more like she did in a family portrait we have at home that we had done when she was about fifteen of sixteen. Even then, though, she had boobs and hips!"

"And so will you after we visit a couple of stores. Women's lingerie is designed to make curves where none exist, if necessary."

"Well..." John wracked his brain for another reason to not go in the mall, which now loomed in front of him. "... I... I..." then, suddenly, a real reason appeared in his mind, "I don't have any money! So, there's no reason to go in."

Rose's Tesla rolled silently into a space near the main entrance to The Cape Cod Mall. She slipped the transmission into Park, shut off the motor, grabbed her purse and smiled at John. "Well, luckily, I have plenty of money and credit cards. Jan said she'd reimburse me for anything I spent on either you or me. So, come on, sis, let's go shopping! I really want to do this with you and I know that you will appreciate it - maybe not today, but eventually, you'll appreciate it."

John looked at the mall entrance as if it were the gateway to hell. She could see he was petrified.

She tried a new tact. "Listen, Johnny, I spoke to a lot of people at rehearsal today and everyone of them told me what a great actor you are. They all admire you and each one was convinced that you would be great in any role - including Bianca. You don't want to let them down, do you?"

She'd done it. Acting - that was his kryptonite. He loved acting and he loved the Cape Cod Shakespearean Rep for being his theatrical home. "Damnit," he muttered, "you've got to help me, though."

Her smile was so sweet and satisfied that he nearly melted. God, she was gorgeous before, but now, with the makeup and new hair color, he wanted to be with her more than he could even comprehend.

She reached into the back seat and grabbed her rehearsal bag and set it on her lap. She looked through it for a moment, then produced a shirt. "Here. Put this on. It's loose and it doesn't show a lot of curves, even when you have them."

Grateful for any camouflage, John took off his polo shirt, careful of his hair, as Stacy had instructed, and pulled the tank-top tunic over his head. It definitely fit more loosely, but there were issues with it. It was a soft, white garment that was fairly shapeless, but from the shoulders and crew-neck opening to just above where his breasts should be, there was a very pretty and feminine lace panel. It was not overstated or fancy in any way - just pretty and feminine. This panel of lace was repeated in the form of a three inch hem that hung loosely at the bottom of the blouse. It was longer than his own shirt, so he knew that, when he exited the car, the bottom would hang at his hips or slightly lower. Combine this design with the fact that it was a slightly larger size than he'd usually wear and he was sure that no one would be able to tell if he had breasts or not.

"There," Rose cooed in a tone that was patient, supportive and sisterly, "that's better, isn't it? And you look so pretty in it. What do you think?"

John looked at it and shrugged. "It'll work, I guess.. just... don't leave me alone in there, ok?"

"Of course not, honey. Your big sister is here to protect you." She opened her door and exited the Tesla. John was still contemplating all the possible disastrous scenarios of being dressed like this in public when his door opened and Rose offered her hand. He sighed and took it.

When he stood, the feathery-soft top he was wearing fell loosely about him. The cooler June evening air felt lovely on his bare arms, but the garment flowed in a disturbingly wonderful way in the breeze, making it feel even more alien to him.

"Oh, that's nice on you," she encouraged him as they moved towards the mall entrance. You should wear that to rehearsal tomorrow."

John did not acknowledge that statement at all, in fact, he barely registered it. He'd noticed something amazing about the blouse. It not only felt soft and pretty, it made him feel small and soft and pretty. He took Rose's offered hand as they walked and he realized that his shirt was emanating a magic spell and he was falling under its power. It felt wonderful to be wearing clothes that he knew Rose had worn, too. Strong, confident, beautiful Rose.

It even smelled of lavender and vanilla, just like her.

It made him feel closer to her. 'Go along with this,' he thought, 'and your bound to get closer to her. This is all going to work out perfectly for you.'

When the entered, Rose made a bee-line for the Victorians Secret store with her list of items from Jan with John's measurements written across the top of the paper.

As they entered the store, John caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and, as Rose spoke to a salesgirl, John looked at the reflection of a very cute, If somewhat flat chested, teenaged girl. Not earth-shakingly beautiful. Not what he'd describe as 'hot,' but definitely cute. This girl was that little girl down the street who was a few years younger and was always thought of as a child, but then, one day, out of the blue, she'd grown into this perfect little cutie. Not quiet a girl and not quite a women, which was an apt description because John was not quite either of those, either.

"May I help, you?" The young woman asked Rose.

"Yes," Rose spoke quietly, "my little sister here is, well, as you can see, flat. She doesn't usually even wear a training bra. Anyway, we have an event coming up in a couple of weeks and we found a really pretty dress, but we want it to hang a little nicer. We're hoping we can get her cup size up to a 'B' without embarrassing her. Do you think you can help us?"

The girl, who's name tag indicated was named Becky, glanced at John, smiled sympathetically, nodded and said, "Of course. I'd suggest a pretty, padded push-up. That will give her the illusion of cleavage, then you can pick up some breast enhancement pads - there's an accessories store down the hall that sells both the inexpensive foam forms and the simple 'chicken cutlet' style, silicone ones. Between the push-up style, the padding already in the bra and the inserts, she'll be up to a 'B' cup without a problem."

"Oh, that's wonderful, but, please, be as discreet as possible. This is an embarrassing subject for her."

"Of course."

John was still taking in his new face when a woman, taller than him - about the same height as Rose -put her arm around his shoulders. "Hi, Bianca. My name is Becky. Your sister tells me that you've got a big event coming and you need some new bras and panties. I'm here to help you."

"Umm," John looked to Rose, then back to the salesgirl, "I think, just bras."

"Oh, don't be silly, baby," Becky lead John to the changing rooms, "a girl needs to look AND FEEL her best for a big occasion." Now, she opened a door and guided John inside, "take off your top and I'll hand a bra in, in just a moment."

Rose stuck her head in, too, and said, "Don't worry, Bianca, I'll help you." She smiled and closed the door behind her, leaving John wondering if he could ever find a way out of this.

"Since this is a special event, are you looking for 'pretty' or just functional?" Becky asked as she surveyed the rather vast selection of push up bras.

"Oh, the prettier, the better, I think!" Rose was starting to enjoy her participation in her stage-sister's new persona. He was a nice guy and she saw some big potential in him as a performer. He'd make a great Bianca. He just needed some help to get there.

"She's kind of a tomboy, isn't she?" Becky was laying bras and matching panties out for Rose to peruse.

Rose laughed. "Kind of. She's trying to find herself, you know? Years of playing boy's games and roughhousing around the neighborhood, but now she needs to be a girl for the first time."

"Oh, I understand. I was the same way at fifteen or sixteen. My mom wouldn't let me out without shaving my legs, though, but kids are different, now."

"I'll need to mention that to her."

"What do you think?" Becky presented the lingerie with a wave of her hand. All of her bra selections were designed to provide the appropriate lift and augmentation to a less-endowed young woman and all were dripping in lace, as were the panties. "How could anyone wear something like these without feeling like a princess. I'd bet that you could dress a boy in these and he'd feel the same way."

"Well, then," Rose laughed, "they're perfect!"

"These are all from the same collection, so if one fits, they all will. What color do you like?"

"Hmmm... I think we'll take a six bras, white, red, Oh, I love that emerald green, a beige one, the baby blue and a black one. Let's get two pairs of panties in each of those colors, too."

"Oh, my!" Becky smiled, "I thought this was just a special event. Your buying her a whole wardrobe!"

"Well, it's a special event, but it's going to last several weeks, so she'll need to dress up a lot."

"Wonderful. Let's try these on her."

"Umm..., Becky, she's really nervous about this. Do you mind if I just help her into one and, if it fits, we'll take the whole lot?"

"I understand. You go right ahead. I'll pull everything together."

"Knock, knock!" Rose sang as she opened the door to the fitting room and entered with the bra behind her back.

John stood, looking incongruous with his long, black hair, bangs, pretty cheekbones, big eyes and flat chest. "Rose, can we just go, please? I think I'm hyperventilating."

"Alright, now, stop. You're an actor and you have a role to play. These are just costume pieces for that role. Let's just do what we need to do and get on with our lives, ok?"

John took a deep breath and both shivered and sighed as he looked at his strange image in the mirror. "Ok, I guess. Let's just get it over with, then."

"Good, now, turn around so I can get your bra on you."

John turned away from the mirror, to face Rose. Without any comment, she ran the bra past his fingers, over his arms and up to his shoulders. Then, she pulled him close as she reached behind him and fastened the hooks into the eyes.

Oh, God, she smelled so good!

She hugged him tightly and planted a sisterly kiss on his temple. "Thank you for letting me share this with you, Bianca. It's like you're really my little sister."

Oh, Lord, should Kate's little sister have a penis expanding and growing in her shorts!? Probably, not, but she just kissed him!!! He was in heaven! There had to be a way to build on this! Who cared if he had to be a girl forever, as long as she paid attention to him, he could be happy forever!

When Rose pulled back, she wasn't looking at his face, but staring at his 'breasts.' "That's a really pretty bra and it looks nice on you, too."

John shook off his stupor and smiled uncomfortably. "Thanks, I guess..."

"You guess? Come one, Bianca, get into the spirit of all this! I'm having fun and you could, too, if you'd just lighten up and enjoy yourself! Now, look in the mirror."

She turned John so that he was facing the mirror. The bra seemed to match his face and hair, but it looked wrong with his olive colored cargo shorts. He also noticed that there was hair on his legs. Maybe no one would notice, though. His natural hair was pretty light.

Rose pulled the tag from the bra, then helped John pull the top she'd loaned him back on.

"There," she said in a decidedly maternal tone, "doesn't that look prettier, now?"

There unmistakably female shape was visible through the tunic, but, unlike before, the light, off-white fabric hung gently from his shoulders to his bosom, and then hung loosely from there. It was definitely prettier than before, he could not deny that, so he just nodded.

"Can we go home now?"

"Not just yet, I'm afraid. I have a list of things we need. I need to go to the accessories store, the shoe store and the drug store, but then I'll take you home. You have a little homework to do tonight, too, so we really should be as quick as we can. I think, though, before we leave, I need to grab one more thing. Just wait here."

"Ok, but, please, hurry!"

Moments later, Rose returned with a pair of denim shorts. They looked like any other jean-shorts except the inseam couldn't ha e been more than two inches long. "These will look much better. Your shorts scream 'boy.'"

John just sighed and pulled down his own shorts.

"Oops," Rose made a face when she saw his undergarments. "I didn't realize you'd be wearing boxers. I'll just go grab a pair of the briefs I picked out for you. I'll just be a minute."

John stood in stunned, disbelieving silence till Rose came back with a beige panty that matched his bra perfectly. It had a front, lace panel which was surrounded by strips of satin. The hips repeated the lacy strips and the rear was just a field of satin.

He stared at them for a moment, then turned to Rose, agog. "Do you need help getting them on?" She asked.

He just shook his head and, without any thought, he began lowering his boxers.

"Oh," Rose made that same 'oops' face, again, "don't forget to tuck that under. Girls' shorts are kinda tight."
 
TELLING MOM -or- THOU ART THY MOTHER'S GLASS, AND SHE IN THEE CALLS BACK THE LOVELY APRIL OF HER PRIME
 

It was nearly 8:30 when they pulled up in front of the cottage that John and his mother shared.

"Do you live here year-round?" Rose asked as she unloaded the bags from the trunk, refusing to to let John carry anything.

"No. We live in Worcester the rest of the year and just come here for the summer. My grandparents bought this place a long time ago. We couldn't afford it in today's market."

"What does your mom do?"

"She's a medieval history professor at The College Of The Holy Cross, in Worcester."

"No kidding!? That may be helpful!"

John opened and held the front door, but Rose insisted that he enter first. As they entered the breezeway, Rose noticed that there were daybed style bunks built in on each side - clever way to maximize the sleeping space when there were guests.

The living room was large with two sofas and two comfortable chairs, all of which, she assumed correctly, were easily converted into beds. There were five rooms off the sides and rear of the largest room. Three were obviously bedrooms, one was a lavatory and the last was a small kitchen.

John looked into the kitchen and could see a light on in the good sized, screened in room beyond.

"Mom," he called, "I'm home."

"Hi, honey!" His mother called back. "I'm in the back."

"Could you come to the living room for a minute?"

John sighed as he moved to stand by Rose. "This should be interesting," he mumbled.

A sporty looking woman in her early fifties, John's mother cut an impression of confidence and contentment as she entered the twilight lit living room.

"What is it, honey... Nancy! I thought it was John! I didn't expect you till next weekend." She moved to hug her daughter, but John moved towards the light switch and illuminated the room.

"It's not Nancy, mom. It's me."

His mother fought with logic for a moment. The person before her was obviously Nancy, but just as obviously not and, even if she were Nancy, she looked like Nancy from ten or twelve years ago. That left only one explanation. "John?"

"Yeah. It's me."

Her thoughts fought to figure this out. John had never once expressed an interest in cross dressing before. He wouldn't do all this just for a summer job, would he? Wait - where did the pretty top come from? And breasts! He had breasts! Those were short-shorts that barely peeked out from underneath the lacy hem of the top...!

Why did all of these questions distract from the fact that her youngest child, her only son, had left the house just twelve hours ago with scraggly, somewhat curly, dirty blonde hair and a little stubble and had returned with long, rich, shining black hair cut into adorable bangs and wearing makeup worthy of a model?

"What's all this for? Certainly not just for the play, right? I mean, I know your playing a girl's role, but this is... a lot... I guess... and it's just the first day of rehearsal..."

Suddenly a thought hit her. 'He's coming out! He's coming out as a transgendered woman and I'm not dealing with this correctly! Come on, Marilyn! Get your shit together! That's your son! Support him!'

She cleared her throat, then continued, "I mean, well, John, if there's something that you'd like to tell me, then," she sat on a sofa and, by way of invitation, patted the seat beside her, "I'm here for you. I'm your mother and I will support you and your decisions."

"Mom..."

"No, please, Johnny, come sit with me." She was seated on the edge of the sofa, bolt upright as if she was awaiting news from a surgeon who may be bringing bad news. "Whatever you need to say, I'll help you to get through it."

John did not move to the sofa, but stood where he was and stared at a spot on the floor. "Mom, it's for the show. I swear, I didn't know that Ms Weldon would require me to do so much, but it's all for the show. Honestly."

"I see..." she breathed a sigh of relief, about which she felt immediate embarrassment. She'd had many transgendered students through the years - many more in recent years, of course - so why did the possibility of her son being transgendered scare her so much? "... and are you ok with all of this?"

" I really don't know, mom. It all happened pretty quick and you know how much I love acting and Shakespeare and the CCSR... and I need the job... and like you said - it's an acting challenge. I'm almost as shocked by all this as you are and I watched it happen."

There was a solid thirty seconds of silence as mother and son stared at each-other before someone cleared her throat and said, "I think I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow, Bianca - Umm - John."

John's mother looked to as if noticing her for the first time. "I'm sorry! I didn't even... never mind. I'm Marilyn, John's mother." She stood and offered the attractive stranger her hand.

"I'm Rose. I go to Emerson with John and we're playing sisters in the play." Rose shook Marilyn's hand.

"Oh, I see. You're playing Kate? My, you are beautiful!"

"Well," Rose blushed, "you're very nice, but I didn't look like this this morning. John and I both got 'the works' at the beauty parlor, this afternoon."

"And are you responsible for John's attire, too?" Marilyn laughed a bit as she turned to inspect her son more closely.

"Yes and no," Rose wasn't sure if Marilyn was accusing her of something or not, but she sure wasn't going to leave that house with this woman thinking that she was the villain in this scenario. "Ms Weldon and our hair-and-makeup-slash-costume person gave John a big list of things to deal with after we visited the beauty parlor. Since most of the items would have been difficult or embarrassing for him to buy on his own, and since he didn't have a car, I volunteered to help my new little sister. I'm not really 'responsible' for anything. I was just helping out."

Marilyn smiled at the younger woman's defensiveness. "You did a lovely job, Rose, thank you. I appreciate your help and I'm sure that you made all of this much easier for my little ingénue."

"Mom," John pulled away and flopped on the couch as his mother admired his hair and ran her fingers through it, "come on, knock it off. This is embarrassing enough as is."

"Oh, don't be embarrassed, sweetheart," his mother smiled. "You're an actor and actors need to take on different personas. This one just happens to be a woman."

"A girl, actually" Rose tossed in. "According to Ms Weldon's character notes, Kate is meant to be approximately twenty years old and, since men looked for younger brides in the sixteenth century, Bianca should be fourteen to sixteen years old."

"Thanks," John sat put his head in his hands, "that helps a lot."

"Knees together, there, young lady," Marilyn teased as she bent and put them together.

"I really should go, now," Rose moved towards the door, "I have to get back to Harwich."

"Harwich? Do you have a home there?" Marilyn asked. Geographically, the small towns that comprised Cape Cod were all fairly close to each other, but there were not a lot of ways to move from east to west. Harwich was several towns east of Hyannis, but the only major road that connected it, without traveling north to get to the only limited access highway, was Rt 28 and it was a narrow, old road with an infinite number of red lights between any given point 'A' and any given point 'B.' It was a bad commuting road in February, but now, with the summer coming and Fourth of July just a week and a half away, it was about to turn into parking lot of angry tourists.

"No," Rose smiled as she took the handle of the door, "I rented a room at the Beachwood Motor Inn.

Marilyn knew the place. It was old and right on the main road, so it was noisy, too. "Oh, Rose, no! I bet they're charging you a fortune to stay there!"

"It's not horrible, but I am looking for another part time job to supplement my income this summer. As you know, the CCSR doesn't pay an awful lot to those of us who aren't in the unions, yet. Well, good night."

She headed out through the breezeway and closed the screen door to it behind her.

Moments later, Marilyn was calling behind her and jogged effortlessly over to speak to her. "Listen, Rose, I just had a thought. I have raised one daughter already, but I don't know a lot about how a fourteen or fifteen year old girl behaves, today."

Rose nodded.

"So, I was thinking, you'd be doing be and Johnny a great service if you would come and stay with us this summer. I'll provide you room and board and you can help coach Johnny to be a better woman. What do you say?"

Rose was flabbergasted! "I don't know, I mean, you're saying I will be living here and not paying rent? That would mean that I could save... Oh, my heavens, yes! I'll do it, Marilyn! Do you think that Bianca... I mean, John will be ok with this?"

"He'll be thrilled!"
 
THE ACTING COACH -or- COME, SIT DOWN, EVERY MOTHER'S SON, AND REHEARSE YOUR PART
 

Ed was beeping his horn in front of the cottage while Marilyn was knocking on the door to the bathroom. "John, for crying out loud, you can't stay in there all day! You agreed to do this job and Ed is waiting for you outside! Man up and get your butt out of that room!"

"I look like a freak!" He shouted through the door.

"You know, I spent over an hour on your hair and makeup this morning, young man. You could be more grateful!"

"Mom, you're missing the point..."

"No, I'm not. You took on a job that has certain requirements and you are have been properly prepared to go to work. Now, go!"

The door imploded open and John appeared. His dark hair was straight and pretty from his scalp to the under flip at the bottom. His makeup was not quite as perfect as yesterday, but very pretty. He was wearing the same tunic and shorts that he'd worn home, but, aside from the clean pair of panties, there were some changes - his body was hairless and his skin smelled of flowers because of the lotion his mother had insisted he'd put on after he'd been denuded.

He gathered his things into his rehearsal tote bag with a great deal of bluster as Ed's horn sounded again.

"I can't believe my own mother is forcing me to do this!"

"Now, you listen to me, John Frances," that got John's attention. It was rare that she used his middle name and when she did, he knew that he damned well better pay attention, "you agreed to play this role, not me. You allowed yourself to have your hair and makeup done, not me. And you're the one who is going to get paid and take the bows, not me. Are we on the same page, now?"

He kept his attention focused on packing his bag, but nodded.

"Last night I googled this Ms Weldon and do you know what I found?"

He shook his head.

"This woman has been nominated for seven Tony Awards, won three, has six Emmy Awards and a Golden Globe. She is the best of the best and she seems to see some kind of talent in you, enough so that she's giving you this challenge. Of course, I'm just a humdrum old college professor, but if I had ambitions to be an actor, I'd get my act together and I'd do it quickly so that I impressed this woman with my ability, rather than have her think I wasn't up to the challenge."

He nodded and threw his lunch into his bag. "Ok, mom. You're right, but, GOD, I just don't want to look like an idiot in front of everyone!"

Ed's horn beeped again, and John could hear Ed shouting, "Dude! Come on!"

"Then don't act like an idiot, Bianca!" Marilyn smiled. It was the first time she'd used the name and it amused her a bit to think of John with that new moniker. It seemed to suit him, now. "Go and be an actor. Be the best fifteen year old, flirtatious, little girl that you can be. Now, go show them who you really are."

He sighed and threw the bag over his shoulder. "Alright, mom. I'm sorry, but it's a lot to deal with. I love you."

She kissed his smooth, pretty cheek. "I love you, too, dear. Good luck."

"Dude," Ed complained as the passenger door opened, "you're gonna make us late. If we hit any traffic, we're going to be..." he looked at the girl sitting next to him. It took him a few moments to recognize her face, but when he did, it made no sense. "... John?"

"'Fraid so. Can we, maybe just get going and talk about this later?"

Ed glanced at the time and nodded. He put the car in gear and pulled out.

There were both silent for a solid five minutes before Ed said, "Soooooo.... Are you going to tell me about this?"

"Ed... I'm Bianca. This is how Ms Weldon and Jan see Bianca. There isn't anything more to be said."

"I'm pretty sure that there's a lot more to be said, but I'll let it go at that for now."

There was another, prolonged silence until John finally muttered, "Thanks, pal."

The remainder of the trip was in silence, until Ed had put the car in park. Neither made a move to exit the vehicle. John stared at the entrance to the rehearsal hall and Ed, for the most part, stared at John for well over a minute. As the clock on the dashboard turned to 8:57am, Ed exited the car and came around to the passenger door, opened it and offered his hand to John. "Come on. We have to go in, now, or we'll be late."

John grunted in frustration, then took Ed's hand and pulled himself out. Ed closed the door and took John's hand to lead him inside. "Don't worry," he whispered to his nervous friend, "once they're past the initial shock, they'll all be blown away, just like I am."

They stopped for a moment and Ed looked his friend up and down. "You look great." Then, from his five-foot-ten inch height, leaned forward and kissed John's cheek. It was a strange gesture, but it was kind and friendly and reassuring and it filled John with a warmth and confidence. John smiled at Ed and nodded.

Then, as Ed lead him up the stairs, Ed added, "You smell great, too."

After they'd signed in, they checked the rehearsal board to see where to report. 'The three suitors' had to report to the Acting Coach for the first half hour, while John had to report to costuming. The 'women' from both plays, which John assumed, correctly, included him, had to report to the Acting Coach at 9:30. At 10:00, everyone involved in Act 1, Scene 1 had to report to the Assistant Director to block the scene.

"Ok, dude, I guess I'll see you in an hour. You going to be ok?" Ed asked as he walked John towards the makeup room.

"I guess."

"Come on, dude, enjoy yourself. You know most of the girls and they'll be cool. Besides, in an hour we're doing scene 1 and remember how the play starts - Kate has Bianca tied up and is demanding information about her boyfriends. Think about it, dude. One of the prettiest girls you've ever met is going to tie you up! How cool is that!?"

John couldn't help but smile at Ed's excitement. As they reached the costume/makeup room, Ed realized that he was still holding John's hand. "You all set?" Ed asked and John nodded in response. Ed smiled and John found that comforting, too.

Ed held John's hand for longer than expected and he smiled, ruefully, as he rubbed John's smaller hand in both of his larger mitts. For a second, John felt like Ed was about to kiss his hand, or his cheek, again, or...

"Hi!" Suddenly, Rose was standing beside them. "Whew! Traffic was awful this morning! I thought I'd be very late," she giggled with a little nervousness, realizing that she may have barged in on something, but Ed just returned her greeting and smiled.

Then he winked at John and walked away.

Rose took John's hand and led him into the room. All the other women, all of whom were, of course, actual women, were seated around the edges of the room. Gloria, who played 'The Widow,' the third and only other female role in 'Shrew,' waved them over to sit with her. John had known Gloria through her work at the CCSR for several years. She was in her mid thirties and she smiled at them both. "Well, don't you two clean up, nicely? Johnny, I can see that you're nervous, but there's no need. Just sit here and relax."

"Can I have your attention, please, ladies?" Jan took over the room and everyone focused on her. "I just want to make sure we're all on the same page when it comes to what we are providing and what you'll need to provide." The women all nodded and grabbed either notebooks or phones to take notes.

"First, let's talk style." Jan walked to a dress hanging from a rack nearby. "We're not going for actual Elizabethan style, but more of an implied-Shakespearean look. The dresses will imply the era, but be more comfortable for you to wear. They are made of linen, so they will breathe well, but they'll wrinkle easily, too, so please treat them delicately."

Several women took note of what was being said. John saw no need, at this point.

"Let's see," Jan looked at a label in the dress, "this is one of Kate's dresses. Rose, will you come up here, please?"

The dress, which was emerald green, with lots of embroidery around the front of the bodice, long sleeves that puffed at the top and laced tightly around the forearm and wrist. The back of the dress was open and would need to be laced.

When Rose was in the center of the studio-room with her, Jan said, "Ok, Rose, would you mind stripping to your bra and panties so that we can demonstrate what all the girls will be wearing?"

"Sure," Rose said completely unfazed and she pulled the straps on her flowered sundress to the side and dropped it to the floor so should could step out of it.

"Because you'll frequently be performing outside where it will most likely be hot, I'm not going to ask you to dress with all the layers of the Elizabethan era. No bloomers, for instance. You can wear your own panties."

John was having a hard time listening to Jan. He was entirely focused on Rose's body and the bra and panties that barely covered it. She was fit and firm and shapely, all at once. He struggled to not overreact, or breathe more quickly, but he could feel his manly equipment growing uncomfortable in its tucked position. It didn't help at all that, as his organ grew and expanded, it slide smoothly along the silky material of his own panties, which, to his erotic horror, were identical to Rose's. His bra and hers were identical, as well, save for the fact that his was slightly smaller.

"You will all be wearing a smock, though," she held up a shapeless, white, nightgown-like garment and helped Rose to put it on. "I made these out of a very light cotton so that they'll be as cool as possible."

That was greeted by sounds of appreciation from the other women.

"That's great," an older woman said. "Last year, our costumer had us in linen bloomers and smocks. We were sweaty messes before we were out of the dressing room." Other women agreed and nodded. John just wished he could go back to wearing his breeches and doublet like the other men.

"You know what," Jan paused, "you girls are all going to have to trained to dress each other, so let's kill two birds with one stone. Gloria and Bianca, come up here and you two can get your training in by helping me to dress Rose."

At first, John didn't move. Gloria stood and waited a moment for John to stand. When he didn't, she tapped his shoulder and he realized that when Jan said Bianca, she meant him.

When they were in the center of the room with Rose, John noticed that both Rose and Gloria were smiling and excited by the costume. John tried to relax, or more importantly, to LOOK relaxed and fit in.

Jan handed Gloria an unadorned garment, obviously a corset of some kind. Then she smiled at John and said, "Oh, let's take a look at you, young lady."

John smiled, nervously, but one of the actresses started clapping and within a moment, they were all standing and clapping for his new look. That really caught him off guard. "You're adorable," he heard. "So cute!" "Johnny, you look so pretty!"

Jan smiled, then threw her arms around him, hugged him and whispered into his ear, "I know that yesterday was rough, but it's all going to be worth it. You'll see."

The sense of relief that washed over John was huge. He'd expected condescension and criticism. He'd never expected support and acceptance. His eyes watered as he breathed easily for the first time that morning. That was it! He'd crossed the Rubicon and conquered this part of the challenge. Thank God. He suddenly felt like he could do this.

"Back to business, now," Jan took over again. "Gloria, please wrap that around Rose. Bianca, help hold it in place so Gloria can lace it up."

John and Gloria did as they were instructed and soon the back of Rose's corset resembled the same lacing pattern as a high top sneaker.

"These are only lightly boned, but you do need the corset for the shape of the costume and to help your posture. Are you comfortable, Rose?"

Rose nodded, "Yes. Very."

"Good," Jan smiled as if she knew the punchline to a joke, "let's fix that. Bianca, stand in front of Rose and old her hands while Gloria tightens the laces as much as possible."

He faced Rose and took her soft hands in his. She made a face of comic horror as, following Jan's instructions, Gloria began to pull the laces as tightly as she could. When she was done, Rose's already perfect shape was even more perfect and her ample breasts were bursting from the cups of the corset and the bra.

"Hold your hands up high, like you're trying to touch the ceiling," Jan instructed. "This will pull your boobs as high as possible. Now, Gloria and Bianca, pull her cups as high as possible."

John focused on what Gloria was doing, but the backs of his fingers had no choice but to graze the underside of Rose's bra as he lifted.

"Now, drop your arms," Jan instructed and suddenly John's fingers were stuck between the cups of the bra and corset. He pulled them out as quickly as possible and, once again, his groin was straining in its restraints.

The result of this exercise was that Rose's bosom was proudly presented to all. The women ahh-ed at this and John just marveled.

"To wrap up, quickly, next comes the hoop skirt, or farthingale." She presented John with a skirt made of flexible, horizontal bands that hung together by vertical, linen bands. He held it down so that Rose could step into it and he and Gloria raised it to her waist and tied it off.

"A frilly crinoline on top of that," John and Gloria repeated the process.

"And the dress." They held the beautiful piece of femininity open so that Rose could place her upper body into it and slide her arms into the sleeves. They spent the next minutes lacing the back and sleeves of the dress. When they stepped aside, all the actresses applauded. It was beautiful and Rose looked amazing in it.

John looked at his own outfit, the off-white, lacy tank-top-tunic that hung so nicely from his breasts and nearly covered his tiny shorts, and, strangely, he wondered how he would look in a dress like this, and, even more strangely, he wanted to try one on.

"Rose, I'm going to let you keep that on for this morning," Jan said, causing Rose to beam with contentment, "and I'm going to put the rest of you in your farthingales and crinolines so that you start working with the size of it. So, Bianca, you first."
 
THE WOOING -or- THOU AND I ARE TOO WISE TO WOO PEACEABLY
 

"Good morning, suitors," Randy, the Acting Coach shook their hands and asked their names and character names.

"Ok, Ed, Jim and Harry," I asked you in here to help me with a stage exercise that I think is going to help you guys to have a better show."

They all nodded.

"Each of you take one of these," he handed them each a Visa gift card worth $50 dollars. "Now, as you know, you'll be wooing Bianca, who, in this production, is a young woman, but is being played by a young man."

"Yeah," Harry said, "but have you seen him, today? Yowsir! He looks nice!"

"Hey, Hey, Hey," Ed said, slightly bothered, "John's working hard. Show him some respect."

"There's a good place to start. Ed," Randy said. "You will show Bianca respect - for the run of this production, there is no John. Bianca is a she - end of story. Are we all on the same page?"

They all nodded.

"Now, girls, especially girls as pretty as Bianca, grow up getting used to male attention. Our Bianca did not, so we need to dote on her. I've given you these cards and I want you to use them to purchase small things, a few bucks a piece, to give Bianca as presents throughout the next few weeks. I want you to woo her in real life as well as on stage. Don't try to date her, just try to win her attention. Got it?"

They nodded again.

"Good. Go pick out something for her. At some point during the day, stop by and give it to her. Smile and flirt as much as you can and, above all, forget that she is anything other than Bianca - a beautiful girl who you'd be thrilled to take to dinner."
 
THE WOMEN ARE COACHED -or- HIS YOUNGEST DAUGHTER, BEAUTIFUL BIANCA, AND HER WITHHOLDS FROM ME AND OTHER MORE.
 

As the actresses entered the rehearsal room to work with Randy, they were all giddy with the silliness of trying to maneuver through the narrow doorways with the large hoops skirts and crinoline covering. John was laughing as well, happy to find himself accepted by the women in the productions. He was also strangely enthusiastic about the fact that his crinoline was the fanciest and spread the widest. Jan explained that he was meant to be the most elegant and attractive woman, therefore his dress would be the prettiest of all. He found himself strangely elated at the prospect of being prettier than all of these gorgeous women.

He was also wearing the black character shoes that Rose had bought him last night, which he'd adapted to quite easily, but the hoops and crinolines offered an unusual problem for John - where to keep his hands. Whether hanging at his sides or folded in front of him, his hands were always touching material. It was very odd. He also needed to constantly guide the skirt while walking of sitting. It was odd that there was ever a fashion which left the wearer so subservient to the garment, but he was beginning to really enjoy how everything felt and hung.

Randy gave a quick rundown of things that the women needed to remember about the behavior of sixteenth century women, having them practice proper curtsying and smiling demurely. "The most important thing to remember, ladies is that women of that time were 100% subservient to their husbands and they were not supposed to even look at the men with a challenging expression. Women's heads were typically tilted slightly forward and, when they spoke to a man, their heads remained in that position and they would raise they're eyes ONLY to interact with the men. This, very distinctive, gesture will bring a good deal of historic femininity to your roles.'

'Kate, of course, this doesn't apply to you except in the final scene. You should confront men as an equal. Bianca, this applies to you times a thousand. The only person that you should speak directly to is Kate and even she is, in a way, your superior. Whenever you're interacting with anyone from this show, whether on stage or not, I want you to remember this behavior. The more you sell this demeanor, the better Bianca you'll be. Understood?"

John nodded as he took notes.

"Excuse me?" Randy asked, perturbed.

John looked up, surprised by the tone of the man's voice. "Yes. I understand."

Randy took on an offended attitude and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I just spoke to you, little girl, and I want an answer."

John looked to the other women, most of whom looked away. Rose, however was gesturing towards Randy with her eyes. John returned his glance to Randy. "I'm sorry... I mean... I said..."

"I said a proper answer. Now," he was yelling in a threatening tone, "stand up when a man is speaking to you, little girl, and address me with the proper respect."

John rose, very slowly and looked at Randy, afraid to speak.

"Are you Looking me directly in the eye, young lady!" His voice boomed with anger! "Next time you look me directly in the eye, I swear, I will take you across my knee and spank the rebellion out of you!"

John knew that this kind of language mirrored the dialog between Petrucchio and Kate, but it was frightening to have the vehemence aimed at him. He lowered his eyes, tilting his head in a submissive manner, then raised his eyes and looked at him through his well groomed eyebrows. "I am sorry, Randy..."

"Sir."

John took a deep breath, closed his lovely eyes, then raised the lids, again, and tried to look as unthreatening as possible. "I am sorry, sir. I meant no offense. I am but a silly woman. I will do better in the future."

Randy shifted hie weight on his feet and smiled a bit. "I accept your apology, Bianca, but I cannot accept that you are a woman. You are a child yet, Bianca. A mere girl of fourteen or fifteen and as a young girl, you must know your place. Do you understand me, child?"

John had experienced these kinds of theatrical training sessions before and he knew that it was a useful exercise, but he was feeling a bit more victimized than he wanted. His fingers ran across the smooth, soft material of the crinoline and he felt small and weak. He knew that Randy would never actually assault him, but he was equally frightened that he would. "Yes, sir," he said in the most demure position he could muster, "I understand you. I don't know what came over me. I understand my place, sir. I will never assert myself again, sir."

"What are you, Bianca."

"I am a child, sir."

"Yes, you are, Bianca. You are just a pretty little thing without a thought in your head, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Then say it."

John took a deep breath. Man, this guy was taking this to an extreme. "I am a pretty little thing without a thought in my head, sir, and I am sorry to have challenged your authority. It will never happen, again."

"Come here," John moved to stand in front of Randy who stared down at him for several moments before saying, "See that it doesn't."

"Yes, sir." John's response was barely a whisper.

Suddenly, Randy burst into a big grin and, without warning, he pulled John into a massive bear hug, lifting him right off the floor, swinging him around and causing his skirts to billow and wave about him.

All the other women applauded, both because in this improvised scene, John had found a way to behave correctly, and because they were relieved that Randy had chosen John and not them to prove his point.

"You were great, Bianca!" Randy whispered as he dropped him back to the floor and kissed his cheek. "Just remember what we did here and you'll be fine."

John returned to his seat, but Rose stood to hug him when he arrived. She kissed his cheek and patted his hair. "You ok?"

John smiled, but was on the verge of crying. "They're always tougher on the women then the men. They want us to be emotional, you know?"

He nodded and wiped a tear that threatened to fall from his right eye. She kissed his cheek, again. "If you need a good cry, I'm here for you. That's what sisters are for," she whispered.

He nodded once more. "Maybe later," he said as he sat bolt upright in his folding chair.

They blocked the first scene in which Kate ties up Bianca and demands to know about all of her boyfriends. Bianca's stinging personal attacks on her sister matched Kate's physical attacks on her. It is a wonderfully vicious and playful scene and both Rose and John had enjoyed reading the scene together the day before, but today, with the movement added, they had a blast!

Playing with the crinoline and hoops came as second nature to John as he began to bury himself in the role. When they took a quick break, Randy gave him some suggestions for lightening his already slightly higher pitched voice to make it just a bit more feminine.

When they reran the scene, John was completely engulfed in the role and was convincing as the conniving younger sister, the flirtatious ingénue and the sweeter than sugar daughter. By the time they broke for lunch, everyone in the cast had forgotten that the actress portraying Bianca was really a boy.

John's mood had completely changed as he sat with Rose, Gloria and Ed and ate his salad. He'd, reluctantly, surrendered his hoop skirts and crinolines and was reduced to his tunic and shorts, again. He was still wearing his character shoes, though and was enjoying the feeling of the moderately high heels. His morning, which had started so miserably, had become one of the best days of his life. He was so grateful to Ms Weldon for offering him such a unique role for a man, but he'd not seen her, yet, today.

As they sat there chatting, Rose couldn't help but notice that Ed seemed fascinated by John. She knew that they'd been friends for a long time, but she could only smile at the attention that Ed was paying to John's - or, more likely, Bianca's - every word.

Gloria was in the middle of a story about her husband when Harry interrupted, politely. "Excuse me, ladies, Ed. Ms Minola," He said, using Bianca's last name in the play. "I... well, I just thought you may enjoy this for dessert." He presented John with a small box from a local bakery. John opened it to find a small, vanilla cupcake with 'unicorn' frosting.

"Oh!" John was really taken aback. Why would someone, a guy, in particular, give him a gift like this? "Well, thank you, Harry. That's very nice of you. Would you like to sit and share this with us?"

"No, thank you, Ms Minola. This is just for you." And he smiled and walked away.

John turned back to the table with a look of confusion on his face. Then, he and the women burst into a nervous laugh while Ed just smiled. "That was weird." John said with an amused scowl on his face.

"You may need to get used to that," Gloria teased. "A pretty girl like you..."

Rose watched John's reaction. He'd definitely enjoyed the attention.

"You guys want to share?"

The girls did, but Ed said, "No, thanks."

Within minutes, Jim showed up with an iced coffee from Dunkin' Donuts. "Hi, Ms Minola," he said in a formal manner. "I wasn't sure what kind of a coffee you liked, so I got you an iced Carmel Swirl with a little cream."

John looked up in shock. "Well, thank you, Jim! That's my favorite - just like that. What do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't be silly, my dear. It's my pleasure." And he walked away.

"Ok, what's going on?"

"I think they're just being nice, sis," Rose smiled at the flustered boy across from her. "You know, just one cast member being nice to another. Boys buy me treats all the time. Enjoy it."

"Yeah, but..."

"Don't say it!" Gloria stopped him. "You know what will happen if Randy hears you say that sentence."

"She's right, Bianca," Ed said. "No one here thinks of you as anything but a beautiful, young woman."

"Girl," Rose blurted out. "Sorry, but Bianca's only about fifteen. Girl."

"Well, I don't see a girl," Ed stated flatly.

"Thank you!" John smiled.

"I see a beautiful woman."

"What...!?"

Before he could pursue that thought, Ed produced a small, hastily wrapped present. "This is for you."

John opened it. It was a pair of pretty, little hair clips with three sparkly-white flowers on each side. He was stunned into silence. "Ed... I don't know... Why?"

Ed smiled, he was made a little nervous by John's reaction. "Like Rose said... just one cast member to another. Do you like them? I thought they'd look pretty with your new, black hair."

"They're beautiful, Ed," Rose said. "I think that Bianca's just a bit overwhelmed. Come here, honey."

John stood and crossed to Rose's chair. Rose pulled the box with the hair clips across the table, then stood and snapped them into John's hair on either side of his forehead. They were charming little clips, although they were probably meant for a younger girl, but it was sweet of Ed to pick them out for John.

She turned John to face Ed. "Aren't they pretty, Ed."

Ed smiled, nervously. He was very pleased with the result. "Very pretty." He looked at his friend for a a moment more, then said, "I need to... Umm... use the men's room before we start up, again." And he walked away, too.

"This is really weird," John said. "I mean Jim and Harry... but, Ed?"

"Just enjoy the attention, Bianca. It doesn't last forever," Gloria said. She thought the whole situation was wonderful, but Rose had the feeling that something was up.

John glanced at the clock. "Geez! We'd better get back."

He went to remove the clips, but Rose stopped him. "Leave them in. They're adorable."

The Assistant Director was blocking a scene that didn't include Ed or John, so they sat on the side and watched as Kate and Petruchio argued through their scene. The actor playing Petruchio was new to the CCSR and John didn't like him much - mostly because he was a big, handsome guy and he got to kiss Rose in the play. As he watched, in his pretty little outfit that Rose had provided for him, John fumed with jealousy that he'd not been born with the physique to play a role like Petruchio. He'd been lucky to play Romeo last year, and that was only because the girl who played Juliette was tiny.

At one point, a woman who was rehearsing for 'Henry V' walked by and noticed the hair clips. "Oh, those are just precious," she said, shaking John from his stupor of jealousy.

"Oh, Umm... thanks." He sputtered as the woman moved on.

Ed leaned over and said quietly, "I hope you like them."

"Thank you, Ed. They're very nice." John whispered back.

They watched for a few more minutes, then John whispered, "Ed... why?"

Ed shrugged. He was a handsome kid, but awkward off of the stage and nervous around girls. Ed and John had been close friends for five years or more and neither had so much as dated a girl. "Because you're pretty, I guess. I just sorta thought you'd like to wear pretty things in your hair, now that you're a girl, I mean."

Ed's response, like Ed himself, was awkward, but sweet and thoughtful. John didn't want to hurt his feelings, but felt he needed to make something very clear. "But I'm not a girl, Ed. It's just for the show."

"Well, you're doing a helluva job, d... I can't even call you 'dude' any more."

"Excuse me," one of Jan's assistants interrupted. "Bianca, if you're not being blocked, right now, Jan needs to see you."

John excused himself and followed the Assistant to Jan's room.

"Here's my favorite girl," Jan teased. "Strip to your panties for me, please."

Reluctantly, John did as he was told.

"Bra, too, honey," Jan smiled as she helped him out of the item. Then she tapped a table in the center of the room. "Hop up here."

Once he was seated, Jan pulled over a tall stool and started examining John's makeup and hair. "Stacy did a nice job, don't you think?"

"Yes," John spoke with his head slightly lowered and his eyes raised to meet Jan's. "When I got home, my mom thought I was my sister."

Jan laughed at that. "You're doing really well, John. I've spoken to Randy and the A.D. and they are both very impressed with you. I watched you and Rose running the first scene earlier, too, and you seemed really comfortable with your skirts, and you new look."

Just then, from behind Jan, a voice said, "I saw some of it, too, Bianca. Very impressive!" It was Ms Weldon, dressed in a very expensive business suit. The maroon jacket and pencil skirt off set the tailored, white blouse. John knew nothing about women's shoes, but he knew that the ones that she wore had to cost at least several hundred dollars.

"Thank you, ma'am." John's posture remained in the submissive attitude that Randy had taught him.

"What do you think, Jan?"

"Stacy did a great job, Ms Weldon. She brought out his cheeks and eyes beautifully. I think he's the perfect Bianca."

The director nodded. "Anything you'd change?"

"Well... he really should have his ears pierced. I'd like to use some nice jewelry and the clip-ons will be an uncomfortable distraction."

"Would you be willing to do that, John?"

John pondered before nodding. "I guess that would be a pretty small concession considering what I've already done."

The women let out little laughs.

"I'd like to use breast forms, too. That would make it easier to show some cleavage."

Ms Weldon nodded, again. "Would you consent to us attaching breast forms, too, John?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

"Excellent," Jan said. "Just sit here and I'll get them."

She returned a moment later with a tray of items and piece of paper. She handed the paper to John and asked him to sign at the bottom. He glanced at it, noticed it was a waiver of some type and the phrases 'pierce ears' and 'apply breast forms' were hand written into it. It seemed simple enough, so he signed it and handed it back to Jan.

She handed to form to Ms Weldon who placed it in a portfolio she carried with her.

Jan swabbed his ear lobes with alcohol and picked up what looked like the frame of a pistol. Then she picked up two very pretty, stud earrings with what looked like pearls in them. "These will look lovely and be very for rehearsal, maybe even for the show." She loaded an earring into the gun and placed it on his left earlobe. There was a small 'pop' and she repeated the process on his right earlobe.

"There. I like those. Pearls have a sophisticated, yet innocent look on a young lady. They also really stand out against her black hair. Those will work very well."

As she put the gun away, John reached up to feel his new jewelry. The gesture itself had a very feminine quality to it.

"Try to find some time to do her nails before she leaves today, too, please," Ms Weldon said. "Nothing drastic. Maybe just dainty extensions, you know? Something natural for the color. Although I love her fire engine red lips, I don't want to overdo the 'scarlet-ness" of her look."

"I agree," while she inspected John's hands. "They're already slender and delicate. They'll play well. Now, lay back, please, Bianca."

He did.

While Jan prepared things, Ms Weldon looked over John's nearly naked body. "Her hips are actually wide enough, I think," she spoke to Jan. Then to John she said, "You picked very pretty panties, John. I think that's important. It helps a girl feel pretty. Thank you for tucking, too. That really helps the illusion. Are you familiar with a gaffe?"

"No," he'd heard the word used in reference to a mistake, but that was all.

"Well," Ms Weldon chuckled, "my guess is that you'll know a lot about them before the summer is over."

He could think of no response, but luckily, Jan interrupted with a tape measure. She took a few measurements and made a few marks on his chest. Then she spread a cool fluid over his chest. "We'll give that a minute or two to set up." Then, she used the same fluid on something that he could not see.

"Ms Weldon," John said timidly as he lay on the table in just his panties. "I just wanted to say thank you for your faith in me in this role. I was very apprehensive about it at first, but, now I think I can do it."

"I know that you can, John. I see great things in your future. This is just one in a long line of challenges that I intend to give you."

That seemed like an odd remark, but he was distracted when, at that moment, Jan held what looked like a moderately sized, disembodied, women's breast. "What do you think?" She asked. Very realistic, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said, noting the very real looking nipple and areola.

Before he had a chance to process how natural the breast looked, Jan leaned over him and pressed it to his chest, smoothing the seams as it bonded to his skin.

In seconds, she'd grabbed another, nearly identical breast and done the same on the other side of his chest.

She fussed with them for a few moments before saying, "Just lay there for a couple of minutes while the adhesive dries."

John glanced down at his torso and was more than surprised by the view. They were by no means large breasts, but they were certainly a new addition.

"Wow..." he muttered.

"Top of the line, my sweet," Ms Weldon smiled. "Nothing but the best for our sweet, little Bianca. Besides, since you'll be wearing them all summer, Jan and I both agreed that they should look natural when your out with your friends and family."

His eyes shot from his breasts to Ms Weldon's eyes. "Wait! This don't come off at the end of the day?"

The woman gave each other somewhat confused looks before returning their gaze to John. "Well, no, of course not," Jan scoffed a bit. "That's surgical adhesive that I used. It could last much longer than just the summer, if you wanted, but the solvent is pretty abrasive to the skin. I wouldn't want to remove them more than once."

"I'm sorry, John," Ms Weldon shook her head. "I just assumed that, well, since you are a theater student, you understood what I was asking. I mean, you read and signed the waiver. You are ok with this, right."

Jan helped him to sit up and he felt the heft of the additional mass on his chest. It felt odd, but endurable. There was a full length mirror near by, so he walked to that and looked at the reflected image of a small, denuded person in lace and satin panties and character pumps, with lovely, perky, young breasts and charming hair and makeup. "I guess they just complete the picture," he said with a melancholy smile.

When he returned to rehearsal, they were blocking a scene in which Bianca encounters two of her tutor/suitors, Lutencio and Hortensio.

"Oh, good," the Assistant director said, "here's Bianca. We're on page seventy-nine, honey."

Ed and Harry, turned to see John, expecting him to be wearing the hoop skirt and crinoline. Instead, he was wearing a long, burgundy, gown with white lace protruding in waves from his newly acquired bosom. He grabbed his script and hustled to the center of the room as quickly as his character pumps would allow.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said with his head slightly bowed and his eyes raise as coquettishly as possible. "Ms Weldon had me involved in wardrobe."

"So I see. Very impressive, Bianca," the AD smiled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue. From your entrance, please."

"Yes, sir." He glanced at his script and read, "What, master, read you? First resolve me that."

Ed was supposed to respond, but just stared at John.

John cleared his throat and again said, "What, master, read you? First resolve me that."

Ed's eyes were focused on John's new and modestly exposed breasts - Harry's were as well.

"Geez, John..." Ed finally muttered. "Holy cow! You've got boobs... I mean... I'm sorry, but... holy cow!"

"...yeah," muttered Harry.

"Bianca," the Assistant Director stressed the character's name, "has delivered her line twice, Ed. Don't you think you should respond!"

Shaken from his amazement, Ed shook himself back to reality. "Sorry!" he said to the AD. Then, he turned to John and more quietly said, "Sorry."

John repeated once again, "What, master, read you? First resolve me that."

Ed got back into character and recited, "I read that I profess, The Art of Love."

"And may you prove, sir, master of the art." John read the line with such coquettish, sexual playfulness that, I spit of himself, Ed felt a stirring that made him warm and a bit lightheaded.

Ed crossed to John. The hair with the cute little hair clips was just so cute and the makeup so young and sweet, while the expanse of burgundy material that hung from John's shoulder and so perfectly led the eye to the lace around the bodice and the modest, but tempting bit of cleavage peeking out, that Ed's playful attitude as Lucentio became more flirtatious than he'd intended. "And you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart." He took John's hand and noticed the newly acquired finger nail extensions that held a lovely pearl-toned color. He thought to kiss the hand for a moment, but was interrupted by the AD who said, "And Bianca exits."

John daintily lifted his skirts just a few inches and left, but both Ed and Harry's gazes followed him.

Once to the side of the room, John turned and saw that Ed was still watching him. He smiled at Ed. This was such a weird way to spend the summer. He was truly enjoying all these new experiences and Ed seemed to be coming into his own as an actor in this role.

For his part, Ed knew that the lovely, feminine thing he was looking at was his best friend, but it didn't really matter. When Bianca smiled at him, his heart melted. He let his gaze linger.

"Quick proceeders, marry. Now, tell me, I pray, you that durst swear that your mistress Bianca, loved none in the world so well as Lucentio." Harry called out his line with just the right sense of jealousy.

"O despiteful love, inconstant womankind!" Ed recited his line, but his gaze remained upon Bianca, "I tell thee, Litio, this is wonderful!"

At 4:45, the actors were excused for the day. John hated the idea of surrendering his beautiful gown for his top and shorts, but it was unavoidable. So, he headed back Jan's studio, once again lifting the material of his skirts to allow himself to move correctly.

"Hey, dude!" Ed called to him. John turned and waited for his friend. "So... how did you grow breasts this afternoon?"

John laughed, "They're prosthetics. They look pretty good, though, don't they?"

"More than 'pretty good.' They are amazing. Do you need to wear them everyday?"

John sighed, "Day and night." He explained how he'd misunderstood when Ms Weldon asked if he'd wear them.

"So you're a girl for the summer?"

"Kind of, I guess. I can't imagine what my mom is going to say. You know, I'm really enjoying being Bianca here, but these changes to my body are going to be a lot to adapt to. It kind of sucks."

"Maybe it sucks for you," Ed said, almost accidentally, "but it's pretty cool for those of us who get to look at you."

There was an awkward silence during which John smiled and blushed. Ed broke the tension by asking, "Am I driving you home?"

"Oh," John hadn't thought about that. "I think that Rose is driving me. She's going to be staying with us for the summer."

"Oh..." Ed was noticeably deflated. "So... will she be driving you back and forth?"

"I really haven't had the time to talk to her about it, but I suppose so. Maybe we could all drive together."

Ed smiled a bit and nodded as he pondered. "Starting the day with two beautiful girls... I could think of worse ways to start."

"I'll text you later, after I've talked to Rose." John looked about for a moment. "Have you seen her?"

"Not since she and that guy playing Petruchio went to work with Randy. She's still here, though. I can see her Tesla out there in the parking lot."

John followed Ed's gaze through the window and I to the lot. Her car was definitely still here.

Before John had even had the chance to turn back around, Ed said, "Well, I should go then. See you in the morning." Then, with no warning at all, Ed's hands touched John's small shoulders and he turned John towards him, while simultaneously bending his head down. Before John knew what was happening, Ed placed a small, tender kiss on John's soft, crimson lips.

Then, just as suddenly, he released John and walked away, towards the doors.

John stood in shook until Ed was through the doors and gone. He didn't turn and wave or smile or anything. He'd just kissed him and left. "What the hell was that?" John whispered to himself, before shaking his head in confusion and continuing his trip to Jan's studio.

Rose was in Jan's studio, waiting to be undressed, when John entered. At first, Rose just glanced at the beautiful dress, then her eyes wandered up to me John's. "Oh, my God, John! You look amazing! And you've got breasts! You look so great!"

She hugged him and he enjoyed it, wholeheartedly.

"Come on," she took his hand and led him to the dressing room. "We'll help each other change."

First, Rose loosened the lacing going up John's back and helped him take off his dress. Then, John did the same for her. They each undid their own crinolines and hoop skirts and stepped out of those. Then, Rose turned John away from her and undid the lacing on his corset. He did the same for her.

They both stood in their nightgown-like smocks and Rose took note of the added lace on John's smock. "What a nice touch," she said. "I bet it feels prettier than mine."

John just shrugged.

"Tell you what," Rose said, "you get everything on hangers and I'll run and grab both of our bags so we can change.

John agreed and began with Rose's clothes. They were still warm and smelled nicer than his. She wore such pretty fragrances. As he was finishing hanging the last of his own clothes, Rose returned.

"Take off your smock," she grinned. "I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and raise your arms."

He was slightly self conscious as he removed his smock. The breasts contained in his bra were fake and all, but the idea of Rose seeing him with breasts still had an impact on his male-pride - not to mention the fact that he was well tucked in his panties, so, with no visible bulge, would Rose ever really think of him as a man after seeing him like this?

He did it, anyway, and he held up his arms. As expected, a garment was dropped over his head and adjusted over his body. "Keep your eyes closed," Rose repeated several times as she went about dressing him. He felt a zipper being pulled up his back and then a belt being attached, loosely, about him in a slightly higher location than he'd have expected.

"Ok," Rose was finally satisfied, "you can open them, now."

He did and, as he'd suspected, he was wearing a girl's dress. It was a sleeveless, crew neck top that sat lightly on his modest breasts, exposing an acceptable amount of cleavage - certainly less than his costume did - then tapered back to the belted waist before falling prettily to a flared skirt that hung to his mid-thigh. The background material of the dress was an off-white over which there was a design, that John could not at first make out. It seemed to be a series of small pen-and-ink sketches with some pink highlights here and there.

"You like it?" Rose asked, excited.

Knowing that he really did need to embrace women's apparel for the foreseeable future AND wanting to please Rose, he nodded and said, "I do. Thank you for letting me borrow it."

"Oh, it's not a loan, honey. It's a gift to my little sister for letting me stay at your house. I stopped on the way home, last night, and picked this up for you. Look in the mirror."

John looked at the reflection and realized what the pattern on the dress actually was. The pen and ink drawings were of sketched hearts and heart-shaped boxes of candy with pink covers and champagne flutes with pink champagne and the occasional pink bow thrown in for good measure, all were in a seemingly random pattern around the material. He also noticed that the thin and purely decorative belt that sat at the top of the skirt, had a little bow at its center. The entire reflection was adorable, young and pretty. Not the young, manly image he wanted to present to Rose, but it was certainly one to which she seemed to enjoy contributing.

"It's... very... nice," John stumbled for the words.

"Nice!?" Rose teased. "We're going to have to work on your girly vocabulary, Bianca. You don't look 'nice' at all!"

"I don't?"

"Oh, my goodness, no. You look adorable! It's such a great 'little lady' dress. Don't you think?"

He shrugged, not really knowing what to say, but Rose seemed so satisfied with the dress that he smiled and said, "I love it, Rose. Thank you."

She clapped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. "I'm so glad!"
 
MOM MEETS JOHN'S BREASTS -or- GO TO YOUR BOSOM. KNOCK THERE, AND ASK YOUR HEART WHAT IT DOTH KNOW
 

Marilyn had been busy for the last few hours. She'd had a morning of shopping and lunch with 'The Girls,' before coming home and cleaning the guest room for Rose to use as her's for the summer. There was a lasagna in the oven and antipasto for a starter. This girl, Rose, seemed nice and John was obviously smitten with her. She certainly could see why, too. The girl was beautiful, plain and simple. She was one of those young women who made older women envious of her youth and beauty. Marilyn had been a cute young woman, but Rose had those ripe, perky breasts that Marilyn had always desired. Hopefully, this housing set up may lead to something between John and Rose.

John had always been a bit on the small-side, which was surprising, because Nancy was a little on the tall-side, and, although he preferred artistic endeavors, he did have certain manly skills. He was a competent carpenter and enjoyed working up a sweat on occasion. Marilyn thought that she might devise some projects to showcase John's manly skills this summer. Maybe Rose would be impressed. Who knew?

She smoothed the bed spread on the comfortable, full-sized bed and fluffed the pillows. Fresh sheets and pillow cases to welcome their guest.

Just as she exited the room, she heard the screech of the spring on the back-screened-door and some voices in the screened in room. "Hi, guys!" She called through the kitchen. "I'm in the big-room."

She pushed the vacuum cleaner she'd been using earlier into the closet and turned as she heard Rose and John greeting her - however, when she turned, she realized that it was not John at all. It was Bianca and she looked absolutely precious in a lovely summer dress that looked far too young for any of the college students she saw on the campus at Holy Cross. If this girl was a high school student, she was definitely an underclassman.

This image of girlhood did not fit her plan to play matchmaker for these two.

"Well," She stuttered for just a moment as she struggled to be keep her words supportive, "don't you just look adorable!?"

John smiled, embarrassed, then he shrugged and, with his eyes, he indicated Rose. "You like it? Rose," he stressed her name just a little bit, "bought this for me as a thank you gift for having her stay with us."

Marilyn smiled at Rose. "That... was very thoughtful of you, Rose. Thank you."

Rose, who'd insisted on carrying her own, large duffle bag in from the car, produced a nicely wrapped present and presented it to Marilyn with a huge smile. "No problem at all, and I didn't forget about you."

Marilyn, caught off guard, accepted the gift, "Why... thank you, Rose. That's very kind of you."

"I hope you like it."

She ripped the paper to reveal a yellow, folded garment. It was a lovely, light silk material and was obvious a high quality, high end item. "Oh, my," Marilyn whispered as she shook the item free of the paper and let it hang from her fingertips. It was a beautiful, summer weight night gown. It was nicer than anything that Marilyn owned. "Oh, my." She whispered again.

She looked at Rose. "I... I don't know what to say, dear..." Marilyn stuttered. "It's simply lovely. Thank you, but it's too much."

"Oh, don't be silly. You're saving me a fortune. I can afford a gift to say thank you to you."

It looked richer and more elegant than anything John had ever seen his mother wear before. He touched it to feel the fabric. "It's so soft. It'll look pretty on you, mom."

"I'd offer to let you borrow it, but it would be too big on you," she teased, but then, something struck her and she became agitated. "Johnny! You have breasts! What the hell!?"

"They're prosthetic, mom. Long story, but I agreed to have them attached, thinking they'd be taken off before I left."

"So, how long do they have to stay on?"

"Until the run ends, I'm afraid."

Marilyn laid her new, precious night gown over the back or the couch and sat. So, you're a woman - well, a girl - all summer?"

John nodded.

"John," for a women who always seemed to know what to say, Marilyn was having a very hard time expressing herself today. Eventually, she continued, "Do you have any idea how this may impact your life? I mean, it could do huge damage to you, psychologically. And just from a practical perspective, you don't have any ID that will match this new... persona of yours. You can't even drive a car, John! Do you realize that you won't be living the life of a twenty year old man, John? You'll be Bianca. A fifteen year old girl, John. A child, for heaven's sake! Are you sure you can cope with something this big!?"

John sat next to his mother. "Mom... I don't know for sure, but... yeah... I think I can. I've been dealing with a lot, today, and by the end of the day, I felt like I was really getting a handle on things. Really, I did! And, you know, I'll have Ed and Rose to help me. I think I can do it."

Marilyn shook her head, then the shake turned into a nod. "What does Ed think of this?"

"He's cool, I guess."

"He bought her these," Rose interjected, showing Marilyn the lovely hair clips.

"Her," Marilyn lamented.

Neither John nor Rose understood what she meant.

"Her. You said, 'He bought HER these.' Ed's been your friend for years and he never bought you so much as a bottle of water. Then, you get boobs and he's buying you gifts. Don't you find that odd?"

"I didn't have boobs yet, when he gave them to me." John was trying to keep the facts straight, but Rose shook her head.

"And you, Rose. You know he's a man, right? Do you plan to make him your doll for the summer?"

Rose was taken aback by the question. "No. Of course not. I was just trying to... I don't know... be a good sister. It sounds silly, saying it out loud, but I never had a sister before and I'm just trying to be nice to her."

Marilyn sighed. "Is this some sort of 'method-acting' exercise!? I mean, when you played Romeo, you didn't spend the entire summer in a doublet."

The two young people looked confused as they searched for an answer. Again, Marilyn realized that she may not be taking the right parental tract. She steadied herself and shook off her frustration. "Well, I guess things will work themselves out." Her son was not exactly excelling as the man's-man she was hoping to present, but she had to admit, he was pretty damned cute as he was.

"Let's go have some dinner and then, later, we'll discuss how this new lifestyle of yours is going to impact our day to day life around here."

John and Rose nodded.

Marilyn stood and looked at John once more. He was her baby and she loved him. Lately, with him living in Boston for school, she'd felt like she was loosing him. Now, in a weird way, she felt like maybe she could have him back for a little while. He seemed different beyond the clothing. He seemed softer, more vulnerable and he looked so much younger. Like her baby was back - just back as her baby girl. It made her smile, just a bit.

"Ok. Everyone to the table. John, please take the lasagne out of the oven, and be careful of your dress. Your not wearing jeans, you know. These are beautiful clothes and need to be treated with care."

"Yes, Mom."

"Rose, there's tea in the refrigerator and glasses on the table. Would you please pour?"

"Of course," Rose smiled and headed to the kitchen to help.

Dinner was delicious with rich, sweet, New England ice cream for dessert. Dinner conversation was frequently interrupted by either Rose or Marilyn correcting John's behavior. "Sit Up straighter, dear. Don't lean back in your seat." "Cross your legs at the knee, sis, and angle your legs to the side." "Smaller bites, sweetheart. Chew with your mouth closed." There was a lot of correction going on.

When the dishes were washed and put away, Rose asked if she could unpack.

"Of course, dear," Marilyn escorted her to her room, the. Turned to John and said, "why don't you take your shower, now, sweetheart."

"Mom," John laughed. "It's only 6:30."

"I know, love, but there's three women living here, now, and we all need showers - and Rose and I know how to do our evening beauty regime. You have to learn yours."

He nodded. There was a lot more to this girl-stuff than he'd ever really considered.

He grabbed his gym shorts and a tee-shirt and headed to the bathroom.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa," Marilyn stopped him on the way. "Hang up your dress and wear a robe to the bathroom."

"Why?" John asked with genuine confusion. "What difference does it make?"

"John," Marilyn seemed slightly irritated by her son's thickheadedness, "I don't know what Rose paid for that dress, but I know it wasn't cheap. That is a very light cotton. If you're going to be a girl, you need to respect your clothing. Go back to your room and strip off everything, but your panties. Hang up the dress. Put away your bra and, when you take off your panties, put them in the hamper in the bathroom. Now, scoot, young lady!!"

John's head fell backwards as he let out a frustrated groan and as he returned to his room. It was a gesture of frustration that he'd made a million times when given correction as a teenager - but not recently. That alone would have made Marilyn chuckle, but doing it in the guise of a girl made it so much more adorable.

Rose was just stepping out of her room when John stormed past. "Is something wrong?" She asked Marilyn.

"Just a temper tantrum because I made him go back and hang up his dress before showering." Marilyn grinned at his behavior.

Rose nodded and smiled, too.

Minutes later, John emerged from his room in a tattered, old, green and black checked robe. It was incongruous with his new image. "Oh, well, that will never do." Marilyn enjoyed goading him some more. "Just a second."

Marilyn disappeared into Nancy's room and returned a moment later with a silky, lavender, kimono-length robe. "Here. This is much more appropriate."

John rolled his eyes and attempted to take the robe, but Marilyn pulled it away. "Let's go into the bathroom so that I can tell you what to do." He grunted and they walked down the hall.

John was given a quick tutorial about the new shampoo, conditioner and body wash that his mother had procured for him that morning. He was also instructed to use a bottle of skin lotion and powder before coming back out. He assured her that he would follow all of her instructions.

"See that you do," she said with mock authority. "Now," her eyes narrowed, "let's see them."

"See what?"

"Your breasts. Let me see them."

Slightly shocked, he said, "Mom...," but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Don't 'mom' me, sweetheart. I have a pair of breasts of my own, so I know what they look like. You're wearing panties and I know that you're tucked, so I'm not going to see anything embarrassing. Now, someone has attached fake boobs to my son's chest and I don't have any idea how physically or mentally healthy that may be, so I want to know what's attached to your chest and I want to know, now. Show me."

John let out a frustrated sigh and opened his threadbare, old robe that had inhabited the closet of his vacation bedroom for at least five years, and revealed to his mother the second most feminine body feature a person could possess. The modest, yet perfectly shaped mammaries looked natural in every detail, including the pronounced nipples and tender-looking areolas.

"Holy moly," Marilyn muttered as her hand reached, uncontrollably, up to feel the prosthetic. "They feel... real... and warm..." she said as much to herself as to John.

She poked the side of the breast. "Can you feel that?"

"I can feel that you're touching them because they're moving, but that's about all. They do bounce and jiggle a lot, though. I definitely feel that."

"Wow," she whispered. "They're... impressive."

"Thanks, I guess."

Marilyn glanced at the clothes that John had brought into the bathroom with him. It was his typical bed clothes - a cheap pair of Walmart gym shorts and a recreated Jimi Hendrix concert tee shirt that was faded and had several holes worn into it. She picked them up. "Take your shower, use the Veet again to make sure your hairless, especially on your fave, shampoo and condition before you get out and use lotion and powder when you've dried off." She hanged his newly acquired kimono on a hook on the back of the door. "I'll come back in while you shower and I'll leave something appropriate for you to wear to bed. Remember, we have a guest staying with us. You can't just be a slob, this summer."

"Mom, we've had actors stay with us, before..."

"You were a child, then... and a boy. Now, you're not. You need to dress appropriately. This is a cultured young woman, staying with us. You need to make a good impression. Even if that is the impression of a teenaged girl." And she closed the door behind her as she left.

John's usual ten minute shower routine had become much more involved in the last two days. The typical quick shampoo and wash had become two thorough shampooing, followed by a conditioning treatment that took ten minutes on its own! Soap was forsaken for moisturizing body wash and, while his conditioner worked its magic, he searched his body for the few stray hairs that had escaped yesterday's denuding procedures and reapplied the Veet to ensure that he was smooth everywhere. None of this was bad, necessarily, just time consuming and there was the fact that everything his mother had purchased for him, EVERYTHING, smelled heavily of strawberries. There hadn't been things scented this strongly since Nancy had moved out.

As he rinsed, he noticed how the water ran across his new breasts, then cascaded off of the nipple. It was mesmerizing to watch, but it led his vision down to his groin, where his sad, little penis sat limp and hairless. It was confusing, he had to admit. He was at once a grown man and a little boy, while also a nymph shaped, young, teenaged girl. He played with himself, just a little, to check that the plumbing was still working, and his equipment sprang to life, immediately. Good. The way that all of this was playing with his head, he wasn't really sure if it would.

He thought about Rose and stroked himself some more. He imagined kissing her. He was strong and manly at first, but then Rose seemed to grow so that she was taller than him, as she was in real life. Her imagined lips were soft and tasted of lipstick. He could feel her tongue invade his mouth as he stroked with more enthusiasm. His hairless organ was more sensitive than he'd ever remembered and he was in heaven as his imagination stoked his passion.

Now, in his fantasy, he could feel his breasts, real breasts, pressing against Rose's. It was a wonderful feeling. Everything was firm and soft and wonderful. His member grew, but he was a woman - her woman - and she was in charge. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and wear the softest, prettiest, daintiest clothes that he could find if that pleased her. He wouldn't be her woman - he'd be her girl. Her sweet, compliant, little girl. That's what she wanted.

He felt her tongue bury deep into his throat and in his fantasy, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself fully to her will and her power.

His orgasm splattered against the shower wall and he let out a quiet, girlish moan as his knees buckled. He held one hand to the wall to steady himself and he worked his way through the torrent of fluid that squirted in ropes from the center of his being. It was ecstasy. His imagined that Rose, who now, in his dream, felt even taller, had brought him to this ecstasy.

He sighed, both in his fantasy and in the shower, then his dream-self opened his eyes and looked down to see the hand that had just brought him such joy. The hand was not holding a penis though. The fingers of the hand were just pulling free of a vagina. His vagina.

He moved his own imagined hand to his lover's soft hand and pushed the fingers back in. He smiled as he ran his hand up the strong arm and felt the hairs and broad shoulders, then to the rough stubble of his lover's face.

Stubble!?

John's dream self shocked itself awake when it saw not Rose's face, but Ed's. Ed's strong, confident face was attached to the arm and hand that had just entered his most sacred, feminine self.

In reality, John shook with a start. The hot water still flowing down his body and the wall of the shower, washing away the seed that he'd just expelled. "What the fuck?" He whispered in a voice that was full of fear and confusion.

Meanwhile, Marilyn and Rose sat in the living room and got acquainted. They laughed as they told Theater stories and spoke about their respective colleges. They heard the water in the shower stop and Marilyn had just commented to Rose that John was taking an
uncharacteristically long time to get out of the shower when a tentative call came from the bathroom.

"Mom?" John's voice was strangely self conscious.

"Yes, honey?"

"Umm... can you come here? I need your help."

With raised eyebrows, Marilyn left Rose and hustled to the lavatory. John had the door ajar and was peeking out of the opening. He opened it as Marilyn entered and she found him with a towel wrapped around his waist and his new breasts exposed, wet hair hanging down his back.

"Oh, for crying out loud, John, wrap the towel around your chest - not your waist."

He looked down and realized what she was saying, but that was not why he'd called her. "Mom," he whispered, "what did you give me to wear to bed? I can't figure out how to even put it on."

Marilyn rolled her eyes at his confusion. "Oh, John... sometimes you're such a child. It's a sleep-romper. There's an elastic waist. Just fold the top down to the waist, step in and pull it up to your waist. Then pull the top up and put your arms through the spaghetti straps and you're all set."

He considered this for a moment, then, "How do you go to the bathroom in that?"

"You take it off. Come on. Both Rose and I need to shower. I'll help you put it on, but first, put your hair in a towel-turban so your nightie stays dry."

He felt his hair. It was still very wet. Normally, he just put it into a ponytail and went to bed. "I don't know how..."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Marilyn had had enough and just took control. She snatched the towel from his waist and shook it out.

"Mom!" John's screech was loud and girlish.

"That's enough, young lady! Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes," John mumbled as he covered his genitals with both hands, "I do."

"Then knock it off and let me help you. I don't want to be showering at midnight. Besides, I've seen your boy parts, before, you know. Turn around so I can make a turban on you and you won't have to be embarrassed."

John turned and allowed his mother to wrap the towel into a turban around his wet hair.

Once that was dealt with, she coated his body with strawberry scented powder, then grabbed the romper and was about to have John step into it when she realized that the material was a bit thinner than she'd thought. "I think it would be safer if your wore panties with this." She muttered, expecting no response.

Without missing a beat, Marilyn pulled the door open and called out, "Rose, dear, there's a bag on small table by the front door. Could you reach into that and grab a new pair of panties for Johnny, please!"

"Sure!" the answer came back.

John felt like he should be mortified, but, what the hell - Rose already knew he wore panties.

Rose handed a pair of light blue panties to Marilyn, who thanked her.

"Put these on," Marilyn handed them to John who complied. "Now, step into this." She held open the bottom half of the aqua sleep-romper. John stepped in and his mother pulled it to his waist. Then she raised the upper part of the romper up and settled it on his shoulders. It was cute and he looked cute in it. The aqua background was decorated with little pink and green bouquets that were each tied with a pink bow. The drawstring at the waist was a pink ribbon as were the spaghetti straps and there was pretty, pink lace all around the leg openings, the V-ed bodice and the top of the back, which ran along his shoulder blades.

She tied the drawstring at his waist to a delicate, little bow.

The thin, cotton material was very thin and light. To John, it was the softest piece of clothing he could ever remember touching, let alone wearing.

"Do you like it?" Marilyn asked.

"I guess," John touched the fabric. "It's really soft."

"Mmm," his mom adjusted it on him, just slightly. "It must feel nice on your soft skin. See, there's a benefit to losing your body hair. Put this on, too." She handed him then lilac kimono as he looked at his reflection.

The turban looked stupid, but they always looked stupid when women used towels in this manner. The romper, though, was nice. It felt wonderful and it hung strangely on his body. It fell along his breasts, then hung loosely to the drawstring before ending in shorts - which, truth be told, looked a lot like bloomers. The cut of the bodice had the affect of simultaneously minimizing his breasts and accentuating the feminine shape he now had. When he pulled the silky kimono on, it did the same thing. He found it interesting how his recently acquired feminine form was enhanced by these loose, lovely items. If a man wore them, they would lay flat and ugly on his form, but with his new shape, they made him look amazing.

Marilyn grabbed the hair dryer and a couple of different style brushes, then too John's hand and led him to the kitchen by way of the living room. "The shower is all yours, now, dear. Sorry we held you up!"

"No problem, at all," Rose put down her script and pencil, grabbed her pile a clothing and a plastic basket of bathing notions and headed for the bathroom. She smiled as she saw John in his turban and little kimono wrap. "Aww. You look adorable."

"Thanks," John mumbled as he followed his purposeful mother into the kitchen and sat in a kitchen chair when she pointed at it.

While seated, he noticed that the romper and kimono were so short as to allow the backs of his thighs to come in contact with the surface of the chair. It was sticky and a very uncomfortable feeling, so he moved forward on the chair to remedy that situation, resulting in him sitting away from the back of the chair and supporting himself by gripping the seat at the sides of his hips. The position pushed his shoulders slightly higher and gave him a very vulnerable appearance.

Marilyn smiled and shook her head as she plugged in the blow dryer and pulled the turban from his head, letting his wet, ebony hair fall.

"Listen, John," Marilyn brushed the wet hair, "if you want to live as a girl, then you can't just go to bed after a shower. Your hair needs to be dried. If you'd prefer a bonnet-dryer, I have one in the storage room, but I prefer a blow drier."

She went to work drying his thick, long hair, using both a regular brush and a round one to separate the hair and get everything dry. When she was done, his hair was much thicker and wavier than he'd ever worn it.

His mother handed him a mirror and said, "I'll help you to iron it flat in the morning, but you really do have lovely curls. When they're blown out, like this, you have amazing body. See how nice you can look with just a little effort." She unplugged the dryer and left the kitchen.

John continued to look at his face. He'd just scrubbed it - first with makeup remover, then with soap and body wash, but his eye lashes remained long, dark and curled, the residual color from his long lasting lipstick kept his lips looking plump and rose red. All of that combined with his trimmed eyebrows and bangs made his reflection that of a young woman. His mother had said, 'If you want to live as a girl...' but he'd never WANTED to do anything other than act. Now that he'd become so fully immersed in the role, both on and off the stage, he was finding it all somewhat fascinating and, if he was truly honest, exciting. After just a couple of days, he was glorying in the softness of his skin and his new clothes and the pretty, wonderful smells and the and the attention he was receiving from everyone - even Ed. Just now, as his mother fussed with his hair, he felt a bit like a toddler with no ability to care for himself, but he also felt just a bit more special than he'd felt before. He loved every second of being girly, but it also scared him a great deal.

He was awakened from his reverie by his mother's hands coming into view in the reflection. She was fastening something around his neck. He lowered the mirror to see a simple string of pearls being clasped to him.

"What's this for?" He asked.

Marilyn kissed the part at the top of his head and said, "They're not real, honey, don't worry, but they do look real, don't they?"

John nodded, "But why did you put it on me?"

"Look in the mirror."

As he did, his mother moved his hair so that it was held back by his ears, which, of course, bore the faux-pearl earrings that had been installed earlier that day.

Marilyn petted his head affectionately as she spoke. "Pearls are lovely on a girl. They make her look both grown up and childlike
simultaneously. Virginal, I would say. I don't know exactly what's happening to you, Johnny - I mean, I don't know if this is really all for the show or if you've opened up a part of you that you'll be exploring beyond the show - but you are remarkably... lovely, I guess. You look so much like my Nancy, and still so much like my Johnny that I am baffled as to who you are becoming."

"Mom..." John was trying to organize his thoughts, but couldn't figure out what to say.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll be here to help and support you, no matter what. For now, though, if you don't mind, I think it will be a lot easier for all of us if we don't think about you as either Johnny or Nancy, but rather as Bianca. Is that ok?"

He nodded and she kissed the top of his head, again.

"And, as Bianca, who is supposed to be fourteen or fifteen, your world is going to change a bit."

"What do you mean?" John asked, Looking at his mother in the mirror.

"Well, dear, for one thing, fourteen and fifteen year olds aren't allowed to drive in Massachusetts, so you'll be dependent on me, Ed and Rose this summer."

He nodded, knowing that if he did drive and were to be pulled over, his license photo would make things a bit odd.

"Also, since your usual chores, mowing the lawn, taking care of the car, etc, are not really appropriate for a young lady, I will ask Ed if he can take care of that for us and you will need to deal with more... feminine chores - cooking, cleaning, laundry, ironing, etc. I think that would assist with your Bianca-training, too."

"Ok." He could handle that. He was never a fan of mowing the lawn, anyway.

"Finally - I am going to insist on a ten o'clock curfew and eleven o'clock bed time for the summer, unless you have a performance or you ask for permission to stay out and I grant it. Understood?"

He shrugged. That seemed weird, but, ok.

She kissed his head once more and said, "That's my girl."

"I'm all done, Marilyn," Rose called as she exited the bathroom and flopped herself back down on the couch and picked up her script once again.

"Alright, honey! Thank you!" Marilyn called back.

Then she turned to John and said, "Go work on your lines, now, Bianca... oh, that's so formal... May I call you Bebe? That seems more like what I'd call my daughter."

Again, John shrugged and watched his mother as she walked into the living room saying, "Bebe will be right in to work on her lines, too." Then the door to the bath room clicked closed.

When John did enter, Rose smiled up at him. She was wearing a pink and white, spaghetti strapped sleep top with a matching, and very short, pair of sleep shorts. When John moved to sit in a chair, Rose tapped the seat next to her and said, "Sit by me, Bebe. We'll work the scenes, together."

When he sat at the far end of the couch, Rose sighed and moved next to him and they worked their way through the scenes they shared.

Rose was very easy to be with and she seemed very comfortable touching John. Within ten minutes, she had her arm around him and he was leaning on her shoulder and reading from her script. They laughed and talked freely.

Suddenly, but quietly and without coming across as in any way interfering, Rose said, "Its nice, isn't it?"

John looked up from the script. "What's nice?"

"Being a girl. It's nice, isn't it?"

"I guess. I just... didn't really expect to be one."

Rose laid her head on his. "Let me tell you something, sis. When I was fourteen, I was skinny and flat chested and I hated anything feminine. I played baseball and basketball with the boys in my neighborhood and I played soccer on a mixed team. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be a girl. I just wanted to be with my friends - the boys. I wore my hair short and tried to be as boyish as I could."

"One day, I noticed that my nipples were sore and that I was developing breasts. I did everything I could to avoid telling my mother, but, eventually she noticed. When I watched you try on your first bra, yesterday, I completely understood how you felt. I felt the same way when I tried on mine. I thought of myself as one of the guys and my mother was putting this girly, lacy thing on me. I hated it and we fought about it every morning until I really needed to wear it."

John was confused as to how this gorgeous woman had ever not wanted to look like she did. "Do you like it now?"

"I love it, now, Bebe. As time went on and I realized that I was developing into a real, honest to goodness woman AND I realized that the guys I played with liked how I looked, I began to embrace it. I joined the Drama Club to find other people who were trying to find themselves, too, and, eventually, I became who I am now. And I love who I am now."

"I do, too." John whispered, accidentally.

She giggled and kissed his temple. "I know you do, Bebe. I can see that, but I like to go slow, ok."

He nodded, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm flattered. Let's put away the scripts and watch some TV."

Rose grabbed the remote and scanned the channels before settling on an old episode of 'Friends'.

When Marilyn returned to the living room, she found her son in his frilly little loungewear, sitting with his legs folded demurely beside him with his head resting on Rose's lap. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Rose had her arm around him and she was lazily running her fingers through his wavy, dark hair.

"I'm afraid that I wore out my little sister." Rose smiled and continued playing with his hair.

"She's had a long couple of days," Marilyn smiled at the pair. "I told him that, if he needed to act like a fifteen year old girl, then I wanted him in bed early, so it's just as well that she fell asleep. I wasn't looking forward to arguing at bedtime."

Rose smiled and said, "You have raised a remarkable boy, Marilyn. He's very talented and, if you don't mind me saying, he's absolutely adorable."

"He really is," Marilyn laughed. "I just hope he's strong enough to be a good, little girl for us."
 
 
To Be Continued...