Wife found her husband secretly wearing her clothes and make-up. Then, husband found her wife's secret that nobody knew. If people know, they risk their lives.
Time passed since I found my husband, Aslan, dressed with my clothes, wearing my make-up and smoking my cigarettes. It took me time to get over this. Now, when we are alone, he can dress as a woman in the house without any problem. For a long time, I still was against this. After all, I married a man, not a sissy... well, I married a sissy, without knowing it. But still, my love for him is beyond limits. I accepted him this way, a thing that maybe no wife would ever agree on. Why I accepted such a thing? First of all, because I love him. It is enough for me just to look at other families and I can see the difference. Aslan never harmed me, he never came drunk home, he never cheated on me, he never spent money on gambling. Many other men, when they come from work, they fix their asses on the coach and watch TV, while Aslan looks to see how he can help me. How couldn't I love such a man? I mean... sissy.
When I found him wearing my clothes, a few days I was ready to divorce. But now, he found my guilty secret.
Why I accepted him to cross-dress in the house? It is love, but there is something else. From a very young age, I wished I were a boy. But later, I no longer wanted this, just something between. I wished I were a girl, but with male genitals. A shemale. The longer I think about this, the longer I see my genitals as a problem. Two close friends died of cancer... at their uterus. A cousin died of the same thing. I know many women that were abused, raped... many of them recovered, but some ended-up as sfenists. Some ended-up even insane!
How hard is to be a woman? Men will never understand. Many see women just as sex toys and house maids. On the fuck with them! I think the only men who can understand a woman are those who are not men at all. Cross-dressers, like Aslan. Transgender people and those from sexual minorities also understand this very well. Only if I think about the bleeding period and all the pain it gives... and it is enough. In the Civilized World, women take pills and no longer feel all that pain... but here, medical services are almost absent. If you are sick, you die.
Aslan found out about this. He promised me that he will bring me a strap-on. It is not a penis and it will not remove my vagina, but still, it is something. That thing costs half of his salary. When he found out, he did not want to divorce, nor he had a repulsion. He went to Dmitry and paid an advance, waiting for the product to come. 50 $, that is half of a salary here, at the End Of The World.
**********
Today, I finish work and leave. I had my bleeding period. It is now ending, but still I feel a bit dizzy and pain. I go to the bazaar and buy some milk, eggs and vegetables from the peasants. Then, I buy two packs of cigarettes. The road, filled with holes in the old, unrepaired asphalt, takes me home. A wrecked car passes by, followed by two horse carriages. Not far from here, I see a fight. Three guys grab another guy and start beating him. Well, violence is common here. With no police, what to expect? I just pass by. People have a natural sense of justice and they make justice on their own. The worst thing is to get between them.
"Abida?" shouts a female voice. "Abida, wait!"
I look. It's Natasha, a woman immigrated from the Land Of Dictators. I know her. She is a lesbian, something that is not accepted here. She carefully hides the truth, to save her life. Where she comes from, people wanted to kill her for this. But here, because of the goddess Actit, the mother of Adam and Eve, people are prohibited from killing a woman. Men have a different fate, but she is safe. If people ask why she doesn't marry, she lies, saying "I had cancer and surgery and I cannot have sex". When a guy tries to seduce her, she says the magic words that keep men away: "Leave me alone, infidel!" These words protected me a few times, when guys tried to seduce me.
"Natasha?" I say.
"Abida, I need your help", she says. "Dmitry sent me to you".
Dmitry is a former KGB agent that hides at the mill, dressed as a Muslim widow. Still, he uses his tentacles to gather and sell information. What is he up to now?
"Come with me", I say.
It is not good for other people to find out what we are talking. So, I invite her out from the town. I go home, grab some carpets and we head to the river. People will think that we are washing carpets there. Many people do this. We find a place where nobody is around. We wash the first carpet, then put it to dry on a fallen tree trunk.
Then, we both sit and light a cigarette. Natasha is a short girl, with her hair painted copper-like color. She wears a short white dress with some black on it and plastic sandals. This is how women dress like in summer. I am the only exception, since I wear pantyhose. I do this for Aslan, because of his strong fetish.
"There is a guy asking for protection", says Natasha. "He contacted me through the internet and I went to Dmitry for help. He is paying the whole operation".
I look interested. A source of cash? Just fine. But what is going on? Is that guy running from a mafia faction? That could be too much. I think about it, as Natasha continues to speak. She takes another drag from her cigarette, then speaks, as smoke gets out of her mouth and nostrils, together with her words:
"That guy is coming from the Land Of War and is running to the Civilized World", says Natasha.
"Why?" I ask. "What had he done?"
I know Land Of War. Never ending conflicts, vendettas and guerilla fights. Nobody would like to be there. I heard stories that behind the endless fights, the real reason is heroin. So, not good news.
"Nothing bad", says Natasha, mixing her words with smoke. "He is... like me".
I look surprised.
"You mean lesbian? Gay?"
"Yes, he is gay. And he wants to save his life".
"On the fuck!" I say. "If someone finds out, he will have his ass penetrated by bullets".
"He contacted through the internet other gay people from the Civilized World and they agreed to pay to take him there. I heard about and tried to help".
"That is good from you", I say, thinking that she is also a lesbian and how she escaped to here.
I take a deep inhale from my cigarette, looking around the shores to make sure nobody is listening. If anyone will find out of this, we are all doomed.
"All I need is you to hide him for a few days. Then, as his papers will be done, send him by train, over the border, to the Land Of Dictators. Leave him safe in train, the next escort will continue".
The next escort? This is a complex plan, elaborated by a mafia faction. I know how this works. I will get paid 50% before and 50% after. Not long ago, I would never accept such a thing. But now, with Aslan as a cross-dresser and me waiting to get a strap-on, I start to think about the poor man. He is a human after all, even if, according to the unwritten law and the moral law, he should be killed.
"I accept", I say. "How much?"
I have to hide my feelings for him as a human.
"50 $", says Natasha. "25 before and 25 after. Drop box here, at the root of this tree".
Natasha opens a pocket in her dress and hands me 25 $. She knows how to do this, shaking my hand, as nobody will see her.
"You like my nails?" she says.
I know the trick. If anyone seen this, will think that I was looking at her nails. They are painted light-red.
"I think they fit well you", I answer.
"So do your bracelets", she says, looking at my hands.
"Ok, let's wash another carpet", I say.
After we finish washing, Natasha says:
"Tomorrow, at the second train".
Roads are very damaged, so railways are mostly used by people and cargo. But even they are not in a good shape. Trains are old, rusted and unrepaired. They usually go with 20 km/h, but that still is better then what you see on roads.
**********
After this, I return home and tell Aslan about. He listens me carefully, then says:
"We must be careful. We must save the poor man, but not show him even a bit of our cross-dressing and trans side".
So, for the next days, Aslan will have to behave like a man and I like a woman at all. I know how this works and what to do. We will pretend that the stranger is a cousin of us.
**********
The second train arrives at 11 AM. I tell people a work that I feel very bad, to get some free time. Well, I go to the station. The red building is filled with cracks in the walls and garbage is everywhere along the tracks. This is the heart of our town and our state. Here, everything happens. People load and unload boxes from passenger and cargo trains. Cigarettes, alcohol, counterfeited clothes, everything is exchanged here. Here, the cops are lurking around the train platforms, waiting for bribery. Other goods like coal and wood are shipped not far, loaded and downloaded from cargo trains. Diesel fuel, cement, tires, computers... you name it. You can find everything here. And everything is done by small notes. People wait each other and their goods in known places. Those places are named by graffiti written on the walls. The place where I will wait is on a platform. It is written: "So please be gentle while I crash the sky". The train comes and a man looks around, then goes directly to me, to the graffiti sign.
"Welcome, cousin", I say.
"Hi, cousin", he answers.
Without any other words, we walk together. A cop comes and looks at us. I know how it works. I give him 3 $ and he says nothing. We get out of the railway station and I guide him home, saying nothing on the way.
I look at this man. Who could believe that he is gay? Who could believe that he carries such a big sin, that people will kill him for? He looks like everyone else. He has men sandals and short trousers, a shirt and a small bag. That's all. He is a man in all aspects, no difference. There is only one thing: his eyes. There is something about them, about the way he looks. It is not that he is in a strange place, even if far more safe then the Land Of War. I don't know... just that I never seen a gay person before. His eyes are different, they look in a different way.
Well, I take him to my home and tell him short:
"You have some food in the kitchen. The TV is yours. I need to go to work. My husband, Aslan, will come probably before me. We are sorry that you will have to stay alone for a few hours. If you need anything, tell us".
I leave and hurry back to work. Nobody must know what is happening.
**********
When I return home, I think what to expect. What should I find at our home? I know that Aslan came before me. Well, we shall see...
I open the door. Music is playing slowly. The stranger is serving lunch with Aslan, which is dressed as a man. Nothing different. I find my lunch waiting me on the table. So, I eat. Then, we all light our cigarettes.
"Is there anything you need?" I ask.
"No thanks", he says. "You are so kind!"
"Everything ok?" I say to Aslan.
"Yes, everything fine. He helped me make your lunch".
Wow, that is something! A man that helped my husband make lunch. What man would do such a thing? What man?
We don't talk after this. It is the protocol. One important law is your left hand must not know what is in your right hand. We must not give him information about who we are and he must not give us information about him. Also, we must not know his previous and next escorts and they must not know about us.
**********
In the morning, before going to work, I go to the river, to check under the tree trunk. There is a small sheet of paper, saying:
"His papers will be here when done. Give him unopened".
I place another sheet of paper, with the message:
"Everything ok".
**********
Four days passed like this. The stranger stays all the time in our house, watching TV. We don't speak about anything. Then, in a morning, before going to work, I go to the river and find a sheet of paper and an envelope. On the paper, it is written:
"His papers are ready. Take him at last train to Land Of Dictators. Your payment will be here if he arrives safe".
I keep the envelope hidden at work. Then, when I arrive home, I give it to him. He opens it. New identity papers for the Land Of Dictators, a train ticket to there and an airplane ticket from there to the Civilized World.
"Thank you!" he says.
"We go at the evening, with the last train", I say. "Remember, you never seen me or my husband. We don't even exist".
"I was on a vacation", he says.
We also take Aslan. It is late night. Dogs are barking on the streets at this hour. But still, even now, there are people around. We move without saying a word. We take him to the train station. He steps in the train just a minute before it departs. Nobody will attack you in a train. His journey to freedom has started. But first, he has to pass through the Land Of Dictators, where another escort is waiting. It will be more complicated there, as he will need a visa to pass border into civilization, not an internal passport like here.
We watch the train departing. Nothing will stop him now, until he reaches main station in the Land Of Dictators. Again, cops are waiting on the train platforms, for a bribery. Surprisingly, this time they don't come to us. So, we pass without an incident.
**********
After 3 days, I find at the river the remaining 25 $, without any note. Mission complete, payment achieved. I don't know if he passed the border to the civilized World. I will never know. And he will never meet us again, ever.
All this time, I wanted to ask him a few questions. How is it to be a gay? What made him become one? Was he born this way? It is so shocking to see one... that looks like everyone else, except for his eyes.
I've seen gay parades on TV or on the internet. All this time, I thought that they are some sort of perverts. Well, at those parades, they largely practice cross-dressing. But him? He was dressed like any man would dress in summer.
What a fuck?
I've seen Natasha many times. I talked to her, trying to understand why she is a lesbian. I figured out that it all started in early childhood, but for a while she was not decided of what her orientation is. Later, she got repulsed to see men getting drunk and violent. A main factor in her case, was a neighbor, a woman that was also a lesbian.
Why I never was angry on Natasha? Because she is a woman. Because of Actit, the mother goddess. But now, I think it is time to understand something. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all the people are wrong.
**********
Then, as I get back home, I see Aslan, dressed as a woman. I realize something. Being a cross-dresser does not imply that you are gay. I am thinking even further. During this time, I read some memories of transgender people. Men who became women and rare cases of women who became men. In many cases, their bodies transformed, but their sexual orientation remained. Former men, as women, became lesbians, while former women, as men, became gay.
When I allowed Aslan to cross-dress, I forced him to make a step in a direction. Now, as I wait my strap-on to come, I feel that I am making a similar step in a similar direction. An unseen force is pushing us forward, on a road that nobody in this village walked on. What is that direction leading us to? I don't know. It is like walking in night with a lantern. We can see the road in front of us, but there is no way to see where it will end.
TO BE CONTINUED
