OUTED IN THE OFFICE
Fiction by Cynthia V. Hart

The white #10 business envelope had no printing on it, just my name handwritten on the front. I found it sitting in my chair Monday morning when I arrived at work and came to my cubicle. I wondered who it was from; if it were official company communication, it would have been in one of our letterhead envelopes. I sat down, opened it and found a folded letter-size sheet of paper. On it was a printed photo, obviously taken by a smartphone’s camera…and my eyes widened in shock.

It was a photo of Andrea, no question. The dress, the face, the wig, the décor of the club…they were unmistakable. Someone had snapped a photo of me in my “other life” and left it here waiting for me in this envelope. I had thought nobody in the office knew I was a crossdresser, but here in my hands was proof that I was wrong. My heart was in my mouth and I started shaking with sheer terror.

Under the photo was printing from Microsoft Word or some other word-processing software, in that annoyingly overused Comic Sans font. It read:

“Dear Andrew: Is this you?

“Your friend always, Wendy.”

I gaped at the signature. Was this the gorgeous young lady I had spent two years or more working alongside, who sat just down the row of cubicles from me? Young, pale-skinned and freckled, busty and red-haired, blue-eyed and very cute, Wendy Parsons had always seemed a bit friendlier to me than most of the people there…but I had put it down to the rapport I often had with women, with whom I had always gotten along much better than those of my own gender. She strongly resembled a younger version of the actress who plays Joan on Mad Men -- Christina Hendricks, I think her name is -- right down to the epic prow. I had always loved the way her wavy crimson mane cascaded down from her head back over her shoulders, and the way her ample breasts filled out the front of her businesslike blouses and dresses. Sometimes I liked to imagine she wore something cut a bit lower than usual or left one extra button unbuttoned just for me to enjoy…but of course, that was mere fantasy.

I sat there for what must have been close to an hour, not even getting any work done, just trying to cope with the news that at least one of my co-workers was on to me and deciding what to do. Was it really from Wendy, or one of my other co-workers who’d spotted me and was trying to trap me?

SIX WEEKS LATER

“Vive La France!” Krystie happily exclaims in my ear, over the noise of the crowded Parisian nightclub.

“This is so cool!” I happily reply as I dance with my friend, the two of us attracting the attention of virtually every boy in the club in our tiny clubbing dresses and extra-high heels- not to mention our voluminous hair and heavy make-up!

“Yeah, who needs BOYS anyway?” Krystie asks.

On the ride back to Casa Keller, I had time to brood over my latest near-miss with Doctor Dale. I also had time to calm down and think of ways to 'make lemonade'.

When I got home, after catching up with Dennis and Mikey, and dishing not nearly enough to satisfy them, about the soundtrack rehearsal and especially the star-fest that was the Ciregna tribute, I excused myself for a light lunch and a long soak in the Jacuzzi.

All the while, I was scheming ways to get together with Doctor Dale before we left for Asia.

This is a gentle coming-of-age story about a college-aged boy becoming the girl he knows he truly is.
With the help of his two girl friends he becomes Susanna as they teach him all about life as a girl.
Please note this is a gentle, sentimental tale and although there is some sexual content it is inferred, NOT graphic and tagged where it occurs.

Danielle's Tale

Chapter Two

10:30 AM, Friday October 10 2014 - Franks family home

A while later a large black SUV with the Lionheart Logo on the doors and hood pulled up to the house. Amber Fairchilde, I assume exited from the drivers side and strode up to the house. Despite her purposeful stride and the bullet-proof vest she wore, from what I could see, she would give any hollywood star or model a good run for their money.

She rang the doorbell, and I had to restrain the urge to run downstairs.

Story under construction...

One Friday a rumor flew around school: One of the students was going to come out as transgendered. The rumor came from reliable source. Someone had heard the principal say it to his secretary.

Most people immediately suspected Andy Lawrence; a small nerdy (straight A) boy with a somewhat feminine behavior. In public opinion his only redeeming feature was that he was rather good at baseball. Not that he was a good batter or a good pitcher but his fielding had earned him a place in the school team.