A Chapter where both Briony and Sion get to see more of the magic that so sucessfully transforms Dave into Daphne. briony accepts Dave's invitation to accompany him to the Birmingham Gay village for the New Year.

The Welsh Mountain Ram 15

Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.

The Ram 15.

With Blodwen gone and the animals fed, Briony and Dave found themselves at a loose end. This was unusual for such a large farm but with the snow still lying thick, there was little else Dave could do about the farm. Dave had arranged with Cledwyns’ labourer Meredith to attend to the animals while they went to Birmingham for the New Year. He was keen for the extra work because it meant overtime and a substantial sum. Dave usually paid Meredith back when Meredith loved to go for the whole four days in July to attend the Royal Welsh Agricultural show. It was rare for a Welsh farm labourer to get a full weeks’ holiday in that particular week because usually, the farmer wanted to go as well. Dave however invariably stayed over on the farm while attending to his own and Cledwyns’ farm not to mention overseeing other farmers’ stock that grazed the high moorland throughout the summer months.

Over some hundreds of square-miles, livestock ... mainly sheep, cattle and ponies, roamed free on what was euphemistically regarded as ‘The Roof of Wales’. Dave would savour the remoteness and sometimes even dressed as ‘Daphne’ in ‘Skinny’ jeans and floaty summer blouse while patrolling remote moorland on horseback without seeing another person sometimes for days as she rode over untrodden moors well away from the beaten tracks. With her western style saddle and small ‘pup-tent’, Daphne, angel and the dogs got a week of unfettered roaming like some Montana ‘line-rider’. All the other farmers were usually attending the Royal Welsh Show.

For Daphne however, weekends in Birmingham and Manchester were the main events to aim for. Ever since her father had died, Daphne had been ‘coming out’; slowly at first but then much faster as her nerve and confidence grew. She was really looking forward to the New Year bash on Hurst Street.

As early evening approached, Briony could sense Daves’ mood tensing and she smiled knowingly.

“Am I to suppose Daphne will be down for dinner?”

Dave nodded a little sheepishly then offered his reason.

“Sion wanted to meet Daphne for dinner tonight. It was his idea and I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

“And I suspect Daphne wants to come out as well.”

“Well ... yes, she does.” Dave confessed. “Where’s Sion just now?”

“Where else, watching the telly. Pity you don’t have any video games and stuff.”

“Plenty of time to buy some in Birmingham, you’ll have several days to shop to your hearts’ content. Apart from the clubbing, I’m also meeting some friends from up Manchester way. Rachel is a tee-girl like me and she’s going to a Tee-girl convention. She’s married and her wife Shirley is a girl who understands her partner. You’ll be able to shop with her and, from experience; I know that it’s much more fun shopping in pairs or even packs. Shirley will also be able to fill you in on some aspects of tee-girls’ mind sets. If you want, you can also come clubbing but I have to warn you, we can be quite a bit O.T.T."

Brionys’ stomach churned partly in anticipation and partly with nerves. Apart from the weekly forays into clubs while she was at university, she hadn’t clubbed much and the college was not famed for its’ gay night life. Going to a ‘Gay Village’ such as Hurst Street in Birmingham sounded much more exciting. She began to wonder just how much O.T.T., Dave might be, or more correctly; Daphne might be. Dave sensed her nervousness and sighed softly.

“Don’t worry Bri’ we’re not that bad though the clubs can be a little overwhelming for the first few times. If you come with Rachel and me at least you’ll have a circle of friends to mix with and you won’t feel quite so isolated. Like I was the first few times, Rachel saw me looking all lost and forlorn one night so she came up and introduced herself. She’s long been involved with helping transgendered people coming out and, or, rebuilding their lives. If you meet her, I think you’ll like her.”

Briony struggled to hide a smile as she asked.

“Are you sure, I don’t like everybody.”

Dave frowned.

“You seemed to like me, almost from the off.”

Briony laughed briefly.

“You saved my life silly. After a wholly accidental introduction and because of the weather, you had me at your mercy for days; yet you behaved like a perfect gentleman. How could any woman not like you?”

Dave shrugged and then frowned.

“It’s easy for women not to like me for they would have to meet Daphne. To like Dave, they would necessarily have to like Daphne.
That’s what separates you from ‘any woman’. You’ve already met her ... and more importantly accepted her.”

Briony felt a soft wave of affection for the man standing before her then she looked at the kitchen clock.

“Well if Daphne’s coming down for dinner, she’d better go and get dressed. I’ll start the roast, off you go darling.”

Dave smiled and nodded winsomely. He bent to kiss Briony on the forehead but Briony brought her lips up in anticipation and they met as the tingles surged. Finally they reluctantly separated and Dave whispered hoarsely.

“Thanks love. You’re just too good to be true.”

“So are you,” Briony replied in a voice equally encumbered with passion. “Now off you go and get ready. Leave the food to me.”

As Daves’ footsteps padded softly up the stairs, Briony turned to the meat and vegetables. After ten minutes, there were enough veg prepared and she decided to go and visit Daphne. Curiosity had overtaken her and the veg were not to be put on for at least three quarters of an hour. She arrived outside Daphnes’ door and listened. There was no shower noise so she presumed Daphne had finished washing. A hair dryer was whirring away so she knocked quite hard.

“Who is it?” Daphne called.

“Who d’you think?” Briony chuckled.

“What d’you want?” Daphne continued.

“I’d love to see how you get ready.”

There was a brief pause as the drier went silent and Daphne bent her head around the door. Briony noted the large towel tucked around her breasts, girly style and she smiled as Daphne explained.

“I’m au-natural darling.”

“So, I’m a married woman and a mother, there’s nothing you’ve got that I’ve never seen before.”

“Perhaps not dear, but not on the same body.” Daphne warned her.

“I know; that’s what makes me curious.”

“Huh. Well at least you’re honest. I suppose you can come in but please, nothing salacious.”

Daphne released the door and Briony accepted the unwritten invitation as Daphne resumed drying her hair. As the hair swooshed up in flying fronds Briony found herself estimating the length.

‘Obviously Dave’s ‘pony-tail’ disguised a lot’.

As the hair fell back it was well down Daphnes’ back. Briony was actually envious. After having been grabbed by her hair and being beaten by Arfon too many times, Briony now kept her hair in a short style that was difficult to grab.

“Here, please, let me do that.” She asked; eager to run her hands through the thick, lustrous head of hair.

After just running her fingers through the fibres Briony sighed.

“This hair is beautiful. You must spend hours caring for it. Who styles it for you?”

“Rachels’ wife Shirley. She’s got her own salon in Manchester but she carries a mobile kit when she comes down to Birmingham. About once a month she does mine.”

“Mmm. It’s lovely, this is fantastic hair; usually mens’ hair is wavy and wild if it’s long. She must straighten it as well.”

“She does. I’ll be getting it done when I see her for the New Year.”

“I could straighten it now if you want,” Briony offered.

“Ooh that would be ever so kind. You’ll need to run the comb through it first.”

She handed Briony the ‘big-toothed’ comb and Briony found it easy to run the comb all the way down the well conditioned tresses.

Then she realised her hands were drawing the front hair over the bulges under the towel. She hesitated as Daphne re-adjusted the fold to re-secure her breasts.

“That’s the most girly thing I’ve seen you do.” Briony giggled. “What size are you?”

“Uuuhm; not sure I should tell you that.”

“Your bras are 36 C; I’ve seen them in your lingerie drawer.”

“You shouldn’t have been looking, how would you like it if a stranger went through your lingerie?”

“Sorry. You’re right; it was wrong of me to do it. I was looking for one to fit me.”

“Well those are old bras, some of them are a bit too small now; Shirley reckons I’m heading for a 36 D.”

“Crickey! How will Dave hide those?”

“Dave’s about ready to come out completely. Well; as completely as makes no difference.”

“Can I see?” Briony asked boldly.

Dave glanced at Briony through the reflection in the mirror and frowned slightly.

“Is this for a genuine opinion or just a perve?”

“Bit of both really, I might as well be honest. We’re just about all girls together here.”

“Uuuhm, correction Briony, there’s a little boys’ toy under this towel. Let me slip on a pair of panties first.”

Briony stepped back and Daphne swayed provocatively across the room to the chest of drawers. She opened the panty drawer, fingered her way thoughtfully through the assorted garments then held up several selections.

“What d’you think?”

“Go with black,” Briony suggested, “I liked that black dress on the third hanger back from the door in the closet. Those panties are also opaque so no little accidental peep-show for Sion and you’ll be able to wear fifteen denier flesh-tone tights instead of those black opaques.”

Daphne nodded agreement then rummaged about for a black bra. After stepping into the panties and ‘tucking’ neatly she let the towel fall to reveal a very attractive pair of firm sizeable breasts. Brionys’ eyes widened enviously as she noted the flat featureless curve of the panties and the nicely rounded cones topped with neat pink nipples.

“My God! Where’s your little boy thing gone!!? And those bloody tits! They’re to die for; that’s just not fair. Are they really all yours?”

“Check for yourself. Look, no scars.”

Daphne gently hefted one with her hand and Briony made a closer inspection.

“Bloody hell Daph’ that really isn’t fair! I’d die for a pair like that. What do the men say? Don’t you get pestered and stuff?”
Daphne shrugged.

“I don’t do men, I’m a lesbian, or more accurately; Daphne’s a lesbian.”

Briony wagged her head and sighed.

“Is that a lesbian with or without her boy bits?”

“With.” Daphne confirmed flatly. “I’m a lesbian with a dick, a functioning dick.”

“Is that an offer then” Briony grinned feeling strangely unthreatened and somehow liberated.

“I’m afraid not,” Daphne replied, “I’m not going to be accused of being a co-respondent in any divorce proceedings. The courts would have a field day or at least, the press would and you could easily lose custody of your children. That’s just some of the shit you’ll face if or when you go up against Arfon in court.”

“I’ll cross that Bridge when I come to it.” Briony sighed.

“Well let’s keep it a short, easy bridge. The less known about me, Daphne, the better.”

As she spoke, Daphne spooned her ripe orbs into the bra and Briony had to look twice to confirm the essentially male hips, for all else of Daphne's body was slim and feminine. Even her waist tapered from her slender rib-cage and flared ever so slightly to her hips. Only the straight line from pelvis to femur gave the game away. Briony strangely found the shape attractive despite the obviously feminine, ripe breasts. She felt tempted to gently cup them but resisted the impulse and instead, she fussed with the bra straps to re-adjust the support.

“There, does that feel better?” She asked.

Daphne checked her appearance in the mirror and fingered the bulging cleavage.

“Shirley’s right. A C cup is a bit small; don’t you think.”

Briony grinned.

“Depends if you want to pull.”

“I don’t want to pull some chick who’s only interested in my cleavage.” Then she turned with the question writ large in her eyes. “I hope I’ve pulled the right chick already ... have I?”

Briony fell silent but Daphne easily read the ‘yes’ in Brionys’ expression.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly as she carefully drew Briony into an embrace.

Briony felt her face being pressed against the soft breast flesh and she felt strangely relaxed, almost as though she was a little girl again cradled in her mothers’ arms.

They stood thus embracing for a couple of minutes before Daphne reluctantly released Briony who instructed her to sit at the dressing table.

“I’ll straighten you hair,” she offered.

Daphne nodded and began to savour the luxurious sensations of having the big-tooth comb and straightening tongs running easily through her hair. After a couple of minutes the job was complete and as Briony stood back to admire her handiwork, Daphne swung her head to cause the hair to swoosh about her head. It fell back neatly to below her shoulder blades into the shape Briony had created and Briony smiled with satisfaction.
‘There was no doubt about it; Daphne had stunningly beautiful hair.’

“Mmmm. That feels good.” Daphne sighed.

“In what way” Briony asked.

“It feels good just brushing softly on my shoulder blades. I like it when it feels silky on the pillow and around my neck when I’m in bed.”

Daphne gently swung her head from side to side and savoured her long silky hair just caressing her shoulders and upper arms for a few moments. Finally she sighed and stood up.

“I’d better band my hair up for the makeup. Can you get that L.B.D. you fancied, from the closet?”

As Briony stepped towards the closet, Daphne sat down at her makeup table just as the bedroom door opened. Sion appeared unexpectedly and was just about to ask where Briony was when he saw Daphne sitting with her back to him in only her bra and panties.

Daphne froze for a moment then recovered her wits enough to remain calm and collected.

“Not now Sion. You must never just walk into a ladys’ bedroom. Your mum’s in my closet choosing a dress but you must wait outside.”

Her instructions were sufficiently firm enough without being abusive or antagonistic. Sion realised that he had blundered as he crimsoned up then slipped back into the passageway until Briony appeared seconds later. She was fully dressed of course and she was holding the LBD that she and Daphne had mutually agreed was the best choice for the night. She repeated Daphne’s censure about just walking into a lady’s bedroom then explained.

“Wait here for a moment until Daphne's got this dress on, then you can come in and watch her put her make-up on, okay?”

Sion quickly realised that his mother was fully dressed and therefore nothing ‘wrong’ had been going on. He smiled and nodded as Briony left the door slightly ajar to confirm to her son that nothing was ‘going on’. Daphne wagged her head and grinned as Briony passed the dress; then she stepped deftly into it and slithered the garment up her legs. The operation took but a couple of seconds and she then called to Sion.

“You can come in now darling.”

Sion appeared beside the door just as Daphne was levering the second shoulder strap over her shoulders and adjusting the bust line. He turned to his mother and Briony saw the relief in his eyes. His unspoken question had been answered. His mother was not ‘doing anything’ with Daphne. Sions’ eyes then immediately fell towards Daphnes’ cleavage. Daphne forked her fingers and pointed them at Sion before reversing them to her own eyes.

“A gentleman talks to a lady’s eyes Sion, not her boobs.”

“But you’ve got boobs. Where did they come from?” Sion asked with childlike directness.

“They grew Sion, just like every girl grows them. Remember, Daphne is a girl. Now. D’you want to see me putting my face on?”

“I want my dinner.”

Both Briony and Daphne burst into giggles as Sion’s realism revealed his hunger.

“Very well son,” Briony replied, “we’ll be down shortly. Go and check that Ellairy’s alright.”

Sion scampered off and Briony settled down to watch Daphne apply the magic that so successfully transformed Dave into Daphne. Daphne settled at the table, placed a large spill towel over her dress then set to with practiced ease.

“I don’t need beard cover, my beard is very sparse and only the fine blond hairs remain, the Laser treatment worked okay on the light brown hairs but left a few blond stragglers so I start with a very pale foundation. I’ve just shaved very close and the shave lasts upwards of two days cos my beard is also slow growing; that’s the hormones.”

"I think that’s the main reason you pass,” Briony observed.

The pair continued chatting until the knock on the bedroom door announced Sions’ return.

“Come in darling. We’re nearly done.” Daphne called.

Sion appeared, hesitated by the door then stepped curiously forward to the dressing table. He peered at Daphnes’ reflection first then came around to watch intensely as Daphne put the finishing touches to her lips. She made one last touch with the lipstick then turned to smile at Sion.

“Well. What d’you think. Will I do?”

Ions’ mouth was agape with wonder.

“You, you don’t look like Dave at all. Daphne’s back isn’t she?”

“In every way darling, now let’s see what jewellery I should have. Red I think because it’s still close to Christmas.

She stood up, turned to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer that comprised three trays of jewellery. The black, white and red jewellery occupied the top shelf and Daphne was soon slipping bracelets, ear-rings, necklaces and rings about her person. Finally she secured the matching watch and turned to ask Sion his opinion.

“Well? Are we ready for dinner?”

Sion nodded so Daphne turned to Briony

“You’d best put the veg on while I do my tights, shoes and bag.”

Sion stood transfixed then asked.

“Can I watch?”

Daphne turned and smiled censoriously.

“Certainly not young man, when a lady puts her tights on she shows her knickers and you are certainly NOT seeing my knickers; now off with you and help your mum with dinner.”

Sion sniggered at the mention of the word knickers so Daphne gave him an affectionate cuff.

Don’t be silly lad. Knickers is only a word. Go on; off you go.”

And so Sion went, still wondering what sort of woman Daphne was. He knew her to be kind and considerate; he also knew her to be generous to a fault but he could not understand the fact that Daphne was sometimes Dave or ‘Was it Dave who was sometimes Daphne?’

With these thoughts wracking his brain he joined his mother in the kitchen and helped with simple tasks. He took the opportunity to ask for his mothers’ thoughts.

“Mummy, If Daphne’s a real woman, why isn’t she helping in the kitchen now?”

With the vegetables on the boil, Briony sat Sion down at the kitchen table.

“Darling, Daphne is a woman but she’s a woman who shares a brain with Dave inside the same head. Now that means that sometimes their shared body wants’ to do womans’ things or mens’ things at different times. It depends on Dave and Daphne. Sometimes Dave drives and sometimes Daphne drives.”

“But don’t they fight, I mean men and women always seem to argue. You and daddy are always arguing.”

“That’s because Daddy and I cannot agree. Dave and Daphne are a much happier pair of people.”

“But Daphne doesn’t have a winkie. If she’s a girl, that must make her sad. Can she have a baby?”

“No, she can’t and you're right; that does make Daphne very, very sad, it also makes Dave sad because Dave loves Daphne.”

“But if he loves Daphne then how can he love you?”

“Because Daphne and I are the best of friends and that makes Dave and I the best of friends. When a man and a woman are best friends, it often turns to love and that’s how it’s become between Dave, me and Daphne.”

“Are you going to marry Dave?”

“I hope so, one day.”

“I hope so too. Dave’s really nice and he never shouts at me or hits me. Not like daddy does.”

“Well if the judge ever asks you, then tell him that.”

“Judge? D’you mean like going to prison?”

“No Sion. Nobody’s going to prison, not me, not you, not Dave, not Daphne nor your father.”

With that the latch clicked and Daphne emerged from the passageway from the stairs. She smiled, bent over to kiss Sion on the head as she passed, then took an apron from the hook and prepared to help with the meal. Briony smiled as they started to serve the food then the conversation turned to more explanations to Sion about Daphne and Dave. Much stuff was beyond Sions’ understanding but as many of his questions were answered he began to feel much more at ease. Most importantly, Daphne was kind to him, like a friendly aunt and Sion was content to lie on the sofa in the drawing room with his head on Daphnes’ lap while they watched the television and Briony fed Ellairy before putting her down. Sion was also happy to receive reassurance that when they went to Birmingham for the New Year, he would get some video games.

Finally, after doing a final round of the animals with Daphne looking incongruously rustic in her LBD and wellies, they prepared for bed. After she made sure Ellairy was properly dry and then checked that Sion was properly washed and bedded, Briony found her thoughts wandering.

‘Would Dave (or Daphne!) be offended if she asked to sleep with him; or her; or them?' She wondered. Then she smiled to herself as she found herself doing exactly as Blodwen had described; thinking of ‘them’ as two people. ‘Would she have to ask the two of them?’

She lay on the bed until Sion was properly asleep then very carefully slipped along the landing.