Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 1
 
 
“Oh, go on Don. Please!” Steve repeated, again, his voice had that pleading quality I hated.

“Look Steve, I have my own assignment. Besides, what the hell do I know about Film Noir? I’m doing French and Business studies,” I said.

“I know that, man, it’s got French in the title and you know about essays.”

“Shit Steve, why can’t you do your own essays?”

“I’ve tried, and I’m really shit at them. I just can’t pass. This is the last one before the end of the year.” His voice took on a pleading note.

“Then what the hell are you here for?”

“I’m here for the rugby, the beer, the women, and if I don’t get a bloody degree, my Dad will kill me.”

“Then you should at least make an effort to attend classes.”

“They’re all at the wrong time.”

“Only because you roll into bed at about five in the morning. Try going to bed at midnight, you might just make a ten o’clock lecture.”

“You sound like my Mum.”

“I can’t help that. Look, at least make an essay plan and do a rough draft. I’ll try to write it in a way that it should be accepted, but don’t expect a good grade,” I said, giving in.

“I don’t want a good grade, I just was to pass and get a credit. Like the others.”

“This should be my degree, not yours,” I grumbled.

“Hey, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “Like this is the end of the second year, and what have I to show for it?”

Steve was my housemate and a friend. At least he told me he was a friend, but I never saw much of him. We had been freshers together last year. When we had to move out of halls for the second year, we shared this house with Mark and his girlfriend Jenny.

Steve was a big guy, well over six feet. He was outgoing and well liked. His problem was that he had just scraped into the university and was reading Film studies. He had chosen that for two reasons, the first was that his father was a movie producer and wanted his only child to follow him into the business, but not without a qualification. The second was that watching movies was his only interest in life, apart from playing sport and drinking, both of which he seemed proficient at. The fact you couldn’t get a degree in drinking beer was always a very deep disappointment for him.

Mark was on my Business Studies course, but without the French, while Jenny was reading English and Dramatic art. We had sort of come together as odds and sods when looking for accommodation at the end of the first year, taking a three-bedroom house in a terrace in Southsea, not that far from the main University buildings. Steve and I had been next door to each other in halls, but it took him three weeks before he actually spoke to me, and then he confessed to being terrified of essays. He was slightly dyslexic, having a real mental block about some things — like work. I sat down with him and helped him with his first assignment, for which he got a B grade. Thereafter, I had helped him to one extent or other, except for one, which he failed.

I was always at a bit of a loss why we were such friends, as we were so different. He was big and brash and always out with the lads, while I was small and shy and spent time on my work. I didn’t drink, because the one time I did, I was as sick as a parrot. My father was in business and always wanted his son to play rugby for England, and to be the best at everything. Unfortunately, I stopped growing at 5’ 6”, so was hardly Mr Universe.

I tried playing rugby at school, but with my size and build was made to play scrum half. This meant that all the largest blokes on the field repeatedly flattened me, so I rarely left the pitch without an injury of some description. My father wanted me to take a short service commission in the army, so I rebelled, grew my hair and went to university.

Had he said that he liked my hair, I would have had it all shaved off, but as he moaned every time he saw me, I just let it grow longer. I even had one of my ears pierced, because he complained that boys who had earrings were poofs.

He wanted me to go to Oxford or Cambridge, so I went to Portsmouth. He wanted me to play rugby or row, so I learned to play the guitar, even persuading myself that I was the next John Williams or Eric Clapton. However, I was so shy that I rarely mixed with the crowd, preferring to spend most of my time in my room, working, playing my guitar or on my computer. I fancied myself as a singer songwriter, but was terrified of playing or performing in front of anyone.

The one thing I was good at was my work. I was on track to get a first, and was determined to show my father that I could do something right. I loved my guitar, but Dad thought that music was sissy and had no time for it.

My mother, God bless her, was utterly dominated by my father, and would often have to intercede between us. Funnily enough, my father and I were not close, but the money came from my mother’s side, as he had married the boss’s daughter. I had a large lump sum waiting in trust for me when I was twenty-one. Just over a year away.

I was so pleased to get away from my father that I had no plans to go back home once I had a degree. I chose French because I hoped to go to Europe and work there, as far away from my father as I could. However, I had no real plans and no real aspirations. Besides, I was not really content with myself, as I was going through an identity crisis.

Ever since I could remember I had never really felt happy with whom I was. It is very hard to describe, but I really felt ill at ease and as if I was just borrowing this body until I found out whom I was supposed to be. As a result, I was not the most sociable of boys, and tended to keep myself to myself. Sexually I was very innocent, and was rather ashamed of the direction my fantasies occasionally took me.

I knew I was a boy, but I knew what boys were supposed to want and like. I also knew that I was different.

It wasn’t that I was gay, I wasn’t, as once, when I’d been fourteen, an older boy approached me and told me he was attracted to me and was I willing to try something different. I’d been horrified and disgusted. While all my friends seemed to be competing to be the most macho, it was as if I identified with the more feminine side of life. This gave me the creeps, as I grew up, I found that my dreams and fantasies rather scared me. From that time, I started imagining taking a passive role in relationships as a girl. Not as a boy pretending to be a girl, but a real girl. As a result, I tended just to try not to think about sex at all. It wasn’t hard, as I think I was just one of those people who had yet to develop a sex drive.

Once again, I completed my own assignment and sat down with Steve to help write his. I thought that this friendship was rather a one-way arrangement. As I had been helping him for so long, I was actually becoming more than a little interested in his assignments and his whole area of study. I think I secretly wanted to be involved in the movie industry.

Some hope!

As I said, I often wondered why he was my friend, and put it purely down to the fact that I did his work for him. It took us until gone midnight, and he even sacrificed his precious drinking time to ensure that the assignment got done. I printed out the finished article, putting it in a plastic binder, so at least it looked good. Then I went to bed, after he told me he would be forever grateful.

The next morning I was up and out of the house before anyone else. I cycled to the last lecture of the year, when I handed in my assignment.

Mr Gateshead, the Business Studies lecturer, was impressed, informing me that I was the only one to have completed my assignment and handed it in on time. I sat through the lecture, safe in the knowledge that I was through to my third and final year.

I popped home for lunch and met Steve returning.

“I’ve just handed in my assignment,” he said.

“Whose assignment?” I asked, and he grinned.

“Okay, our assignment. I think Miss Hardy was surprised.”

“You haven’t ever handed anything in on time.”

“Yeah, I know. Look, Don, what are you doing this summer?” he asked, changing the subject.

I shrugged. I had made no plans, and was prepared to do anything except go home.

“Mark and Jenny want to go to the South of France by motorcycle, so I thought I might go too. How do you fancy coming along?”

“Duh. I haven’t got a motorcycle. In case you haven’t noticed,” I said, looking at my beaten up pedal cycle.

“That’s okay, you could ride pillion behind me.”

I stared at him.

“Me? Why don’t you ask one of the thousand babes you keep talking about?”

“Hey, I owe you. You have helped me get this far, and I know I’d never have done it without you. We can both pick up some cracking French babes when we get there.”

I blushed, as my success with girls could be charted on the back of a postage stamp.

“I don’t think so. But thanks anyway,” I said, and went to go in.

“Hey Don, we all want you to come. Please?” he said.

“It’s only because I speak French, isn’t it?”

He laughed.

“No, you’ve been a bloody good mate to me over the last two years, and, well, I owe you.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” I said, and went to my room.
 
 
Over the next day, Mark, Jenny and Steve all tried to persuade me to join them. In the end, and in order to get some peace, I agreed, but although I seemed quite reluctant, I was secretly very pleased to have some friends who appeared to want me to be with them.

Mark and Steve each had Kawasaki VN800 classics. They are kind of like Harley Davidsons, but not as expensive. We had one four-man tent and each of us took a rucksack and a bedroll. I even managed to strap on my guitar in its case. The plan was to take a week to get down to the south, tour around, staying in campsites, but staying longer anywhere we really liked. We thought we could pop into Italy and Spain if the mood took us.

I told my mother that I was off to France to practise my French, and we set off on the day after the University closed for the summer. Needless to say, my father was abroad on business, again. The guys took me to buy a set of black leathers, in which I immediately started sweating. Being in Portsmouth was handy, as we caught the ferry and we were in France the next day.

I felt a bit precarious behind Steve to start with, particularly as we were on the wrong side of the road. Jenny was a striking redhead, with her long hair streaming from under her helmet as they rode along. I was aware that my fair hair was almost as long, and I realised from the looks that we received from male drivers, that they thought I was a girl too. I had a strange feeling to this realisation, which worried me for a while. Then I shrugged and went with the flow.

I hated to admit it, but I actually enjoyed the feeling that I was drawing the attraction of others. The fact that they thought I was a girl gave me a kick.

I actually enjoyed the feeling that I was fooling people, and as Steve was a hunk, I even felt rather possessive over him. I caught myself feeling these things, so felt guilty and ashamed, so attempted to rid myself of them.
 
 
We spent the first night in a campsite near the town of Rochefort, on the west coast. There was a nice square and several bars with young people in them. We were all a bit grimy, so we had a shower at the campsite. The facilities were good, but basic. Out tent was a two-chamber tent, and we had limited privacy. We could have rented one from the site, but being poor students, we were happy to stay with what we had.

Actually, we were anything but poor, with the exception of Jenny, we all came from relatively wealthy backgrounds, with quite decent allowances. Particularly Steve, who’s Dad made several millions on his last movie! However, we liked living rough, looking mean and moody bikers.

I was in a clean black tee shirt and jeans, and was drying my hair in the sun outside the tent. Jenny was next to me drying hers, while Steve and Mark went off for their shower.

Suddenly I was aware of a very loud wolf whistle and, looking up, saw a German VW campervan with three lads in it.

They could see our UK registered bikes, so one shouted across in English.

“Hey girls, looking good.”

They laughed and drove off.

I went bright red, and Jenny laughed.

“My God, Don, they thought you were a girl too,” she said.

I said nothing, but she looked at me strangely.

“Actually, you look more like a girl than a bloke with your hair like that, and you are very slender.”

“Thanks a bunch,” I said, feeling confused, for although I was slightly upset at having my masculinity doubted so obviously, something inside me was secretly pleased. I immediately felt guilty, and wondered why.

Needless to say, Jenny told the others and Mark thought it very funny. I was watching Steve, and to my surprise he looked at me and smiled, but didn’t join in the laughter.

I tied my hair back in its ponytail and we went to town for a meal. It was a pleasant evening, and later we settled down in the tent to sleep. I was sharing with Steve, and I could hear Mark and Jenny trying to be quiet whilst making love. I grinned at Steve and he grinned back.
 
 
The next day we moved on to Lacanau a l’Ocean, still on the West coast, but further south.

The campsite was almost full, but we managed to squeeze in. There was a super little resort here, with huge rolling surf on a very long straight sandy beach. It was great fun, so we all decided to stay here for a few days.

There was a good nightlife here, several bars and nightclubs. One nightclub had a cool band playing live on the first evening, so after we had a light lunch, Mark wandered off to see if tickets were needed.

He came back with four tickets, but looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked.

“It’s couples only.”

“What?” I said.

“In order to keep the lager louts at bay, they’ve made it couples only, girl and boy couples, no pairs of blokes allowed,” he said.

“Fuck that. Where can we find two unattached females?” Steve asked.

“Even if we did, there are no more tickets, the guy behind me got the last pair,” Mark said.

“Well, at least you two can go!” I said.

“I bought four tickets,” Mark said, holding them up.

Jenny looked at me, and I immediately knew what she was thinking.

“No. Jenny, no way!” I said.

“Why not? You managed to fool those Germans yesterday.”

“Oh come on, they were in the distance, and probably had eyesight problems.”

“It would just be for tonight, and in the dark, no one will ever know,” she said.

“I’ll know, and you guys will know,” I said, but my heart was racing. Part of me was terrified, yet strangely, part of me was very excited over the possibility.

I noticed that Steve was silent. He was just watching me. Mark grinned.

“Hey Jen, with a bit of make up and stuff, could you make him look good enough to pass?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s near enough my size, so I reckon that I’d even have something he could wear too,” she said.

“Oh come on, a joke is a joke. No way!” I said.

“Oh, go on Don, it would be a laugh, we would have one over on the club,” said Mark.

“Oh yeah, and what happens if some randy French bloke gropes me in the dark?”

“I won’t let that happen,” said Steve, very quietly and assured.

I stared at him. He wasn’t grinning like the rest, and I had a nagging thought about him.

“Come on Don, you and me need to get to work,” Jenny said, and despite my protestations, she dragged me back to the campsite.

I was sent for a shower and told to shave every part of me I could reach. I grumbled that this wasn’t necessary just for one night. But she threatened to be very unpleasant, so I complied.

Then back at the tent, she delved into her rucksack and produced a bra, tights and some knickers. She helped me put them on, filling the bra cups with rolled up socks.

“Shit, Don, you have a gorgeous figure! Are sure you’re a bloke?”

I was not happy.

I put on one of my own tee shirts, and she gave me a short denim skirt and a pair of high heel shoes, I had small feet and they fitted.

“Come on, why can’t I wear jeans and trainers?” I pleaded.

“Because we want you to raise no questions at all.”

She then spent ages with make up and doing my fingernails. Then she brushed out my hair, standing back to admire her handiwork.

“Bloody hell!” she said.

“Yeah, I look like a clown, right?” I said, dejectedly.

“Come with me, Coco,” she said, grabbing me by the hand.

Just by the showers were two full-length mirrors. She placed me in front of one mirror, and my heart missed a beat.

“Bloody hell!” I said, and she giggled.

“Some clown, hey?”

“That’s not me!” I said.

It wasn’t me. It was a stunningly attractive girl who had replaced me. I saw what she meant about my figure, as I had a narrow waist and larger hips. I struck a pose, tossing my hair, and the girl in the mirror smiled with joy. I was spell bound.

“Bloody hell!” I repeated.

“Well?” Jenny asked.

“Bloody hell!”

“Say something else, please Don.”

“I’m not Don,” I said, unable to take my eyes of the girl in the mirror. Something deep and satisfying happened inside me. I didn’t know it, but all I knew was I liked what I saw; it felt right.

“Okay, Don-na, say something.”

I looked at her and smiled.

“This might work after all,” I said. She paled.

“Don, no Donna, what’s happened to your voice?” she said, nervously.

“Nothing. This is how I sound, now,” I said, and realised that my voice was changed. It had become a girl’s voice. It was soft, a little higher, yet slightly husky and very sexy. It was this girl’s voice. My voice.

“Bloody hell!” Jenny said, a huge grin spreading across her face.

“What’s the matter Jenny?” I asked.

“Shit, you’ve been in there all along!” she said and I smiled. Strange feelings and emotions were coursing through me. I had the strangest feeling that I was now really me for the first time in my life. It was as if everything had been a sham, and now I had found an answer to the question I never dared ask - who am I?

“Maybe, I have just found out who I really am,” I said, looking back into the mirror.

“Don, maybe this was a bad idea.” Jenny said. She appeared to be having a real touch of the seconds.

I turned and looked at her, smiling.

“Don’t you like your monster, Dr Frankenstein?”

“Shut up Don, this isn’t funny. We are fucking with things we don’t know about,” she said, looking worried.

“My name is Donna, and we’d better go meet the guys,” I said, turning and starting to walk off towards the town. I loved the way the clothes felt; it was as if I had been set free. I had to concentrate on my walk, as the high heels were different to anything I was used to.

Jenny fell in step with me, frowning at the turn of events.

“Hey, lighten up, Jen, it’s only for a laugh, right?”

“Right,” she said, still frowning.

I smiled as I noticed many male heads turn as we passed. I tossed my hair, and felt a feeling of pure joy rise and come out as a laugh.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, still concerned.

“Never more so. I feel brilliant!” I said.

“Shit. I never meant it to go like this,” she said.

I stopped.

“Like what, Jenny? Like setting me free? Like being me for the first time in my life? Like it’s what I want?” I asked.

“Bloody hell!” she said, grinning at me. Then arm-in-arm we made for the town. There were a few boutiques that we would have passed, but I stopped and saw some really pretty dresses and skirts. I went in and half and hour later came out with a couple of carrier bags. Jenny had disappeared while I was trying on the third dress, and she met up with me as I came out.

“Where did you get to?” I asked.

“Never mind. All this, just for the one night?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, right!”

I smiled. It was so strange feeling completely at one with the world. Well, almost.

“Let’s take this stuff back to the site,” she suggested.

“What about the guys?” I asked.

“They can wait. If I know them, they’ll be more than happy to reduce the French stock of beer, and probably won’t even notice how long we’ve been gone.”

We went back to the tent, where she told me to get undressed.

I protested.

“Why? I actually like being like this,” I said.

“I know, trust me, please.”

I stripped off my tee shirt and bra. She stopped me there.

She took out a box and opened it. She took out two realistic silicone breast forms and adhesive. Now I knew what she had been buying.

“Where the hell did you find these?”

“There was a lingerie and sex shop back there, didn’t you see it?”

“Yes, but discounted it. For a bit, anyway,” I said with a smile.
 
 
Twenty minutes later, with my own breasts and a low cut top, Jenny and I walked back into town again. I even had my own shoulder bag with my own makeup in it. The breasts felt awesome. Their weight and whole appearance was so realistic that Jenny had to keep reminding me to stop looking down at them. I made up for it by admiring them in the shop windows instead.

The guys were still sitting at the pavement table. I noted that there were a few empty beer glasses in front of them. Jenny looked at me.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, licking my newly glossed red lips.

“Oh yes, more than sure,” I said.

We walked across the road. I noticed that they weren’t looking our way.

Jenny sat down in her seat and I sat in mine.

Steve turned to look at me. His eyes nearly fell out and his jaw almost hit the table.

“Hi baby, miss me?” I asked, oozing as much sex into my voice as I could.

“Bloody hell!” he said.

Mark looked round, and did his version of a goldfish impression.

“Any chance of a beer? Shopping can make a girl very thirsty,” I said.

Mark vaguely waved for the waiter, but when he arrived, he was incapable of speech.

“Jenny you want one?” I asked.

She just nodded, with a grin on her face.

“Deux biers, s’il vous plait,” I asked the waiter.

“Oui Mam’selle,” he replied and went off.

Steve was still trying to focus again.

“Shit!” he said.

“You don’t half know how to make a girl feel welcome,” I said, and put my hand on his knee. I glanced down and so did he. I smiled as I noticed my red-varnished nails. I also noticed a subtle swelling in the trouser department.

“Hey, pleased to see me, or what?” I teased.

He stared at me.

“Don?” he said, in a disbelieving tone.

“Nope, Don has gone away. I’m Donna. Pleased to meet you,” I said, holding my hand out. He took it and didn’t move. He stared at my face, then down at my swelling breasts and then my legs.

“Are you going to shake my hand, or what?” I asked.

He looked at our hands, and then stupidly, he shook my hand.

I smiled.

“There that wasn’t too hard now, was it?” I said, as if talking to a small child.

“Bloody hell!” he said.

“Shall we try a different pair of words, as I think you’ve got the hang of those two now?” I said.

“Huh?”

“Oh poor boy, you’re going backwards now,” I said.

Mark turned to Jenny.

“What the hell have you given him?”

“Nothing. You see before you the real Donna Armitage. She has only just awoken.”

“Bloody hell!” Mark said. I turned to him.

“Oh Mark, not you too?” I said.

He shook his head with a silly grin on his face.

“Don, I mean Donna, what? I mean, why, no, shit, who? No, where? Oh fuck, will someone tell me what the fuck has happened?” Steve stammered.

I turned to him, and smiled.

“Wow, almost a whole sentence, you are a clever boy,” I said, and he looked annoyed.

“Steve, it seems that I have now discovered who I really am, and I love it, so be a love and go with the flow,” I said, as the beers arrived.

Mark and Steve ordered another two beers. I looked at Jenny and raised my glass.

“Thanks Jen, for helping me find myself.”

She smiled, but still looked worried.

We sat in the sun for a while. I was very conscious of the glances that I was receiving from men, not least the man I was next to. Steve was turned on, and it disturbed me a little. I was beyond wondering whether I was gay, as I was now convinced that I was a girl, with a minor physical problem, but as for Steve? Time would tell.
 
 
As the afternoon wore on, he began to relax. Jenny persuaded Mark to take her for a walk along the front, leaving me alone with Steve. They told us that we would all meet back at the cafe at seven for a bite to eat before going to the nightclub.

He was very quiet. I had never seen him this quiet before, as he was always the life and soul of any party.

“You’re very quiet,” I said.

“Sorry.”

I looked at him, but he was unable to meet my eyes.

“Do I upset you that much? If I do, I’ll go and change back,” I offered.

“No. No, please don’t change. You look fine.”

I looked at him and he met my eyes.

“You look better than fine, you look beautiful.”

“Hey Steve, this is me, remember?” I said.

He held my stare.

“I remember, Donna, right?”

I looked at him, and I felt a tear come to my eye.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be,” I said.

He took the last mouthful of beer from his glass. He put the empty glass down and smiled at me. My heart almost melted.

“Donna, we met a few moments ago. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

I smiled and he stood up. I looked up at him.

“Care to go for a walk?” he asked.

I nodded and finished my beer. He held his hand out to me, and he pulled me gently to my feet.

We walked slowly along the street. He was still quiet.

“Steve, you’re going to have to talk to me eventually. If I’ve upset you that much, then we can go back to the campsite, and I’ll put an end to this right now,” I said.

He stopped and turned to me.

“Have you any idea what you’ve done to me?” he asked.

I shook my head, and he smiled.

“You know that I’m always going on about the babes, and the fun I have?”

I nodded.

“It’s bollocks. Do you know who I envy above everyone else?”

“No.”

“Don bloody Armitage. That’s who. The little guy who’s always in control. He works away and passes everything. He gets on well with everyone without trying, and he doesn’t give a shit what people think about him.”

I was quiet, as I had no idea.

“You see, that time when we first met, I saw you in the room next door, and I thought, ‘Wow, a babe next door.’ It was a week before I realised that you were a bloke. By that time, it was too late, I already fancied you rotten.”

I was shocked and very surprised.

“You thought I was a girl?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was your hair and the quiet way you spoke. You always wore baggy clothes, and so I just thought you were just a little flat-chested and had a complex about it,” he said staring at my generous artificial bust.

I smiled.

“Go on,” I said.

“Well, when I did find out I was shattered, as I was trying to build up the courage to ask you on a date. By the time we’d become mates, I never knew what to talk to you about. I always felt so inferior to you, so I couldn’t face socialising with you in case I made a complete arse of myself. Now, please believe me, I am not gay, and I have never felt this way about anyone before, boy or girl, but, shit, I suppose I have to admit that what I feel for you is weird, but, I like you a lot and I don’t want to see you get hurt over this,” he said, and then went quiet.

We were standing there like a couple of lemons, and he suddenly looked so miserable, I felt sorry for him. I reached out and touched him on the arm.

“Hey, Steve, I’m so sorry, mate, I never knew. You should have said something,” I said.

“There was no reason for you to know. What could I say without making myself out to be a complete dick? When I found out you were a guy, it was as if my whole world crashed. I went through a terrible time of self-doubt. That is why I drank and spent all night on the tiles.”

I experienced a wave of depression until I saw our reflection in the shop window.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hmm?”

“Look in the shop window, tell me what you see.”

He looked and shook his head, and then saw the reflection of a pretty girl in a short skirt and a lovely figure, holding the arm of a tall, good-looking guy.

“Well?”

“That’s us! That’s what the world sees. We have the power to be whomever and whatever we want to be. I want to be that girl, will you help?”

“Really, why?”

“I don’t really know, but it will be fun finding out. Even if it for a few hours.”

He grinned.

“Okay, on one condition.”

“What?”

“As soon as you feel awkward, stop.”

“Steve, you still don’t get it do you?”

“Don’t get what?”

“I felt awkward for the first nineteen years of my life, I just stopped as soon as I became Donna.”

“Shit! For real?”

“For real.”

“Bloody hell!”

“You said that already, we’ve gone back to the start,” I said, and he grinned. He held out his hand, and I took it. We walked up the street, hand-in-hand.

I tried to explain my problems to him.

“You see, while you were having a crisis, so was I, but in a different way. I saw you as the social animal, with so many friends and loads of different interests. I was a loner, feeling awkward about myself and not knowing why. Shy and unable to socialise, enjoying my work, my guitar and my computer. I get on with everyone, yes. I have no close friends, except you three. I don’t think I’ve ever had close friends.”

“What do you mean about feeling awkward?” he asked.

“I never knew why, but I just didn’t feel right. I’m now beginning to realise why.”

“You mean, you like being like this?”

“No, Steve, like is not the word. I simply adore being like this. You can’t see it, but my soul is soaring with the angels!”

He smiled.

“What a couple of weirdos we are.”

“No. I might have been a weirdo, but I feel too wonderfully alive to be anything other than me now!”

“You certainly look wonderful. So, what does that make me?”

I stopped and looked up at him. The fact I was holding another bloke’s hand seemed just right, and I didn’t feel gay. I felt like a girl.

“Steve, it makes you my friend, is that so terrible?”

“No, not at all.”

He smiled and we started walking again. He squeezed my hand, and from that simple action, my body responded with a thousand flutters of excitement deep with in me.

He stopped outside a jewellery shop.

“I’d like to get you a present,” he said.

“I don’t need anything.”

He pointed to a pair of delightful silver dolphin earrings.

“Those would look great on you.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t had both my ears pierced.”

He pointed to the sign in French.

“You’re the linguist, what does that say?”

“Ears Pierced.”

“Well, I’ll pay.”

Several moderately painful minutes later, I was sporting some lovely dolphin earrings.

“Thanks,” I said, kissing his cheek as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He stopped and looked at me.

“This is heavy!” he said, all serious.

“Why, can’t a girl kiss her boyfriend in public?”

“Don’t tease me, Donna.”

“Oh Steve, we’ve lived in close proximity for two years. Are you a friend?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Am I a girl?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation.

“Then, logically, you must be a boyfriend, and I must be a girlfriend.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know what I mean too,” I said, and he went red.

“Would you buy earrings for a bloke you knew?”

“No way.”

“How about a girl who fancies you?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“Then, as I said, thanks!”

I kissed him again. This time he held me, but before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me on the lips. Something from deep within me surged up and I responded with a passion I never knew I had. I opened my lips, our tongues touched and I allowed his tongue to explore my mouth as I explored his with mine. He held me close to him, while I ached with desire for him. I could feel that he was aroused, so I had to break off.

“As I said, thanks,” I said, with a little smile.

He stared at me, as I took out my lipstick and repaired my lips. I then took a tissue and wiped the makeup from his face.

We walked down to the beach and sat and looked at the sea. He placed an arm around me and held me close. I snuggled into him, feeling really content.

After a while, he spoke.

“Donna, where the hell are we going with this?”

“I don’t know. How about minute by minute?”

“I’m confused.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah, I guess you are,” he said, with a short laugh.

We watched the surf rolling in for a while.

“Donna, did you ever know that you were, were, you know?”

I laughed.

“Did I know that inside I was a girl?”

“Something like that.”

“No. Well that is not strictly true, perhaps. But I always managed to deny it.”

“So you never fancied me then?”

“As a bloke? Never. But I fancy you rotten now.”

He laughed, but looked worried.

“Don’t worry, I am not going to embarrass you by making you have a homosexual relationship,” I said.

“Too late Donna! Just keep being Donna, and we will both be fine.”

I was silent.

“Shit, this is a mess!” I said.

“What do we do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Honestly?”

“Why not? It’s no good pretending to anyone anymore,” I said.

“Donna, I want to be able to love you.”

I was silent again, as tears rolled down my cheeks.

He saw I was crying.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I’ve said the wrong thing again.”

“No, you haven’t. I just want to be a real girl for you.”

“You are a real girl,” he said, but we both knew the truth.

“No, I’m not. Not yet, but if you want me to be, there are ways,” I said.

“Shit Donna, you mean surgery?”

“Unless you have a magic wand?”

He shook his head.

“That's expensive,” he said.

“And painful.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“But I would go for it, if you wanted me to.”

“What do you want, Donna?”

“I want to be a real girl. Above everything else.”

“This is just the first day, are you sure?”

I nodded. I was.

“Then go for it, not for me, but for yourself,” he said.

I thought about that for a while.

“I don’t think I could go through it alone.”

“You won’t have to, I’ll be there.”

“You deserve a real girl, who will have your babies, and who can….”

He kissed me to shut me up.

“Don’t ever tell me what I deserve,” he said.

He held me and I cried for a while. I was very confused.

“Come on, let’s go, we have to meet the others,” he said, helping me up. He brushed the sand off my skirt, and as he touched me, I desired him once more. The desire wasn’t a sexual desire. I desired him to love me in the fullest sense. That meant physically, mentally and spiritually. The thought of penetration as part of that process was erotic, but very scary. It wasn’t the most crucial factor, and to be honest, I was beginning to feel afraid of what I was becoming.
 
 
We walked back up to the front, and headed to the café where we agreed to meet. Mark and Jenny were already there, and looked at us with some surprise. Steve had his arm over my shoulders, while I had my arm around his waist. We looked like lovers, which was almost what we were.

“Hey guys,” said Mark, exchanging a meaningful glance with Jenny.

We sat and Jenny noticed my earrings.

“I like your dolphins.”

“Yeah, aren’t they neat? Steve bought them for me,” I said.

“Hey sweetie, do you want a beer?” Steve said to me. I thought Mark’s eyebrows were about to take off.

“Thanks, love, just a small one. I could do with some food,” I replied, so he waved for the waiter.

We ordered, and I noticed that Jenny was looking curiously at me.

“Oh stop worrying, we have to get into role,” I said, they both laughed and tensions released, a little.

We ate a very pleasant meal. Steve and I were now at ease with one and other. Jenny and Mark had a fit as they saw how tactile we were, and when I kissed him, I thought Jenny was going to choke.

“Look, Donna, don’t go too far with getting into role. It was a joke, just a bit of fun. Okay?” she said.

I stared at her.

“Jenny, I'm having more fun now than at any other time in my life, okay?” I said.
 
 
We finished our meal and walked over the road to the nightclub. Several guys were being turned away as they had no girls, but I smiled sweetly at the doorman as he let us in without a second glance.

The evening was fantastic. The band was great, if a little loud, and I was in heaven. I danced all night with Steve, and we ended up snogging alongside everyone else to some very slow numbers. Mark and Jenny shrugged and just accepted us for who we were, as neither Steve nor I cared about anything at that moment.

It was two o’clock in the morning when we made our way to the campsite, and we crawled into our tent in the darkness. Steve lit a small calorgaz lamp in our side. The giggles and grunts from Mark and Jenny signalled what they were up to, and I grinned at Steve.

I suddenly felt very self-conscious, and he reached out and took my hand.

“Look, I have no expectations. We have both been through a lot.”

I touched a finger to his lips, and took off my top. I then took my skirt off, and rolled my tights off.

“Donna, what are y…?”

“Shh,” I said.

I took my bra off, and my false breasts swung free. He stared at them, as if hypnotised.

I reached out and undid his belt, and he wriggled out of his trousers. He lost his shirt and I pulled his jockey shorts off.

I turned out the light, and we snuggled together under the sleeping bag.

I held his throbbing cock in my hand.

“Donna, don’t.”

“Shh. I said, and bent down and took him into my mouth.

I couldn’t believe I was actually giving him a blow-job. But the fact I really wanted to and was enjoying it astounded me beyond words. I tasted his liquid as it seeped from the little hole on the top of the velvety smooth helmet.

I took as much of him as I dared into my mouth. He moaned with pleasure, thrusting deeper into my throat. I kept this going for a while, as his thrusting became faster. He came, but the natural reaction was to let go and gag. I forced myself to swallow, and found a heady sense of lust hit me as I tasted him.

I came up and kissed him.

I took my knickers off, and felt his cock soft against my tummy.

“I wanted you inside me, but am afraid,” I whispered.

He wanted me, but I now wanted him inside me more than anything else in the world. We both had something holding us back, so we just cuddled. I was satisfied just being held, secure in the knowledge I could satisfy him, albeit orally. I didn’t have the bottle to take that step over that invisible line to allow him to anally penetrate me. I felt like a girl. To do that would be to acknowledge I was not equipped as a girl, and I didn’t want to be reminded of my true gender. However, in thinking about it, I was reminded, and I almost cried such was my internal anguish.

I had not thought about my own genitals, but I was surprised that I had not even managed an erection. My little worm was lying there, and compared to his, it was so insignificant.

I curled up next to him, and we fell asleep. I smiled as I realised that this was the first time I had a sexual experience, and it was with a man. I was as much of a woman as I could ever be.

Or so I thought.

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To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
I woke early, about seven thirty. I slipped on the clothes I had worn the previous night and went to the restrooms. I went into the Ladies, and swore never to go to a Gents again. I went to the loo, where I thought about what I had done. The enormity of it all hit me and I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. I saw my father’s sneering face staring at me, with disgust oozing from every pore.

I felt dirty, as if I had broken all the rules in the book.

I sat on the loo and cried. After some careful thought, I stopped crying and started to think about me instead of everyone else. I started to smile, as I realised that it had made me feel good. I actually felt good about being me, albeit a false female me, but still me. I pulled myself together and showered, cleaning myself as much as I could. When I touched my hated genitalia, I discovered, with a shock, that it had virtually shrunk out of sight. I was left with a kind of flap of tubular skin with nothing much inside. I did find it, but it was tiny, even smaller than it had been last night. To any casual observer, my genitalia appeared female; more importantly - I appeared female!

My scrotum had tightened so it was right up inside my crotch, and I could just about feel two very small, soft spheres. They too had shrunk considerably. The hot water coursed down my chest, and the silicone breasts really felt at home. I felt a little tender underneath and put it down to the unfamiliar nature of wearing a bra for the first time.

I slipped on a clean pair of panties, noticing that I did not need any special arrangements to make myself look female, it just happened. I put on the bra, which felt very tight today, I loosened it off, but it still felt tight. I shrugged, slipping on a tee shirt and a skirt. I then dried my hair under the dryer, and put on my make up.

The girl was back with a vengeance, and I wanted her to stay. I walked back to the tent, buying some eggs, milk, bread and bacon on the way. The young French guy in the shop flirted with me outrageously, which I loved. It was great to actually use French for real, so I just relaxed and got on with it. I made mistakes, but I found as long as I tried, everyone was very forgiving and helpful.

I set up the two-ring Calorgaz stove, and made a nice cooked breakfast for everyone, with hot coffee.

Steve was the first to rise, and he took one look at me and grinned sheepishly.

“Hi gorgeous,” I said.

“Hey Donna. Did what I think happened, happen?”

“Uhuh,” I said.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I started it, I did what I did, you just went along with me, so none of this apology shit. Okay?” I said, quite heatedly.

“Okay,” he said, raising both hands in surrender.

“Besides, didn’t you like it?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was great, but…”

I just looked at him. I knew the inner turmoil he was going through, and as he looked at me, I knew he was looking to see any evidence of me being male. Our inner prejudices were hard to live with.

“Well, what do you see?” I asked, and his eyes widened slightly as he realised I knew what he was thinking.

“I see Donna,” he said.

“Good, ‘coz that’s who I am. Go take a shower. Your breakfast will be ready when you get back,” I ordered.

“Yes Ma’am,” he grinned, and kissed my neck.

I went weak at the knees, but pushed him away.

“And shave. Your face is like sandpaper,” I said to his departing back. That was another thing; I was still smooth, no facial hair growth at all. This was really weird!

Jenny was next to rise, she took one look at me, and smiled.

“Still here then, Donna?” she said.

“Yup, here for good,” I said with a grin.

“You look really happy,” she admitted.

“Feel even better,” I said.

“How’s Steve?” she asked.

“He’s fine, considering,” I said with a smile.

“Oh shit, you didn’t?”

“Didn’t what Jenny?” I asked, but my smile said it all.

“You did. Oh my God! I’m sorry, I never meant th…”

“Hey,” I butted in, “enough, I’m a big girl now, let me make my own decisions. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, but reluctantly.

“Listen Jenny, on a serious note. I need to speak to you about something,” I said.

“Okay, what?”

I explained about my shrinking bits and the tightness on my chest, and she didn’t have a clue. I turned everything down, and we went into our side of the tent and she took a look for herself.

“Bloody hell!” she said.

“I’m going to ban those two words,” I said, and she laughed uneasily.

“Well?” I asked.

“Shit, I don’t know. If I didn’t know better I’d say you are changing sex.”

“That can’t happen, Jenny. Can it?”

“Shit, I don’t know, I’m doing bloody English and Drama, not medicine, for Pete’s sake.”

We stared at my diminishing willy for a while, and I had to admit that it looked just like I was changing sex.

“I mean, look at your shape, Donna. Your waist is tiny, your hips are bigger, you have gorgeous legs, and no Adam’s apple at all. You look female, even if you don’t have tits.”

I explained about the discomfort I felt on my chest.

We looked at my chest, and she probed under the silicones for a moment.

“I think I know why you are tight,” she said.

“Why?”

“You are growing your own boobs.”

“Get away!”

“Seriously, you are bigger, I reckon in a week you won’t need these,” she said semi joking.

We looked at my chest, and I felt very odd indeed.

“Did you really go down on him?” she asked.

“Might have,” I said. “And, do you know what? It was bloody wonderful,” I said.

“Oh Donna.”

“Don’t - oh Donna me! I have suddenly found what it is like to be able to please a man, selflessly and completely. I wish I had the right equipment, but it was still brilliant.”

I dressed again and we went back out. Mark was getting up, then he and Jenny went to the washrooms. Steve came back and I kissed him. He was smooth and clean. I wanted to have him again then and there. Instead, I gave him breakfast and a cup of hot coffee.

We spent several days at that site. Steve and Mark decided they wanted to try surfing, so I bought a one piece black swimsuit in the shop by the beach and we spent ages just playing amongst the surf. I was so utterly convincing as a girl, that even I almost forgot what I really was. The café by the beach kept us in beer and baguettes. It was a lovely life.

Each night, Steve and I cuddled and explored each other as our guilt and shame diminished, as did our inhibitions. I didn’t want him touching me down there, so kept my knickers on all the time. I admit, I was in denial about the truth, but I found it easier when I made myself believe I was a girl. I came to want him inside me more than anything else, and every night I took him in my mouth until he came. As I got better at it, and worked out to keep him hanging, holding off from climax, it was better fun than I had expected. I found myself heady with lust for him.

On the sixth morning, I felt slightly nauseous. Steve got Jenny, and she came into where I was in my sleeping bag.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I feel odd, Jen.”

“In what way?”

I shrugged.

“Tummy.”

She lifted my tee shirt, and probed my tummy. It was a little tender and tight.

“It could be your appendix.”

I shook my head.

“Nah, I had that out when I was twelve.”

“You may have damaged something if you are having anal sex,” she said.

I shook my head.

“No, it won’t be that, as I haven’t let him do it. I admit I’m very tempted, but I haven’t given in yet. Besides, this is too high.”

She gently probed around my genitals, and then had a look.

“Donna, have you looked down there recently?”

“I’ve felt them, but haven’t looked since we did a few days ago, why?”

“I’m worried, this is so weird.”

“Why?”

“Shit, Donna, you’ve an opening now.”

“A what?”

“An opening. A vagina. You have what I’ve got.”

“You mean I’m thinking about letting him screw my ass, when he could use something else?” I said sarcastically.

She looked at me, amazed, but saw I wasn’t taking her seriously.

“Do you realise what this means?”

“Yeah, I won’t get such a sore ass,” I said, going along with the joke.

“Donna, I’m not fucking about! Really, you’ve changed sex, all by yourself.”

“You are joking, tell me this is a joke?” I said, shock creeping in.

“No Donna, this is no joke. Your tummy pain, is it like cramps?”

“I don’t know, perhaps.”

“Show me exactly where.”

I placed my fingers on either side of my tummy button about four or five inches apart.

“Donna, I think I know what is happening. You're ovulating. You are bloody ovulating, or at least forming ovaries.”

I probed with my fingers, and found that the tube of skin that had been my penis had developed into a labia and I had what felt like a vagina. What had once been my penis was now a small button of a clitoris. Mind you, I was hardly an expert on female genitalia, so I was guided by Jenny, as the only resident expert. My testicles had gone completely. That’s if they were ever there at all. I never seemed to have what I saw others had, so maybe, I was one of those one in five thousand people born inter-sexed.

I stared at her, tears running down my cheeks, as I just grinned like an idiot.

“Jenny, are you sure what I’ve got is the real thing?” I asked.

Stripping off her won clothes, she bared herself for me to see her equipment.

We sat opposite each other, and with the help of some hand mirrors we both agreed that I was now the proud owner of a perfectly normal looking set of female genitalia. I was perhaps a little tighter, and with a grin she said she understood why that should be.

“Let’s look at your boobs. If you’ve developed down there, it stands to reason that you are probably doing the same up top!”

She took my tee shirt off, and using some adhesive remover, she removed the silicone breast forms.

There protruding from my chest were two small, but perfectly formed breasts, only smaller than those now in Jenny’s hands. No wonder everything felt really tight and uncomfortable. Instead of being a generous artificial C cup, I was now a budding natural B. The nipples were already large and were sensitive to the touch.

“Bloody hell!” I said.

“Fuck me!” she said.

“Sorry, a week ago I might have, but I can’t now.” I said, and she looked blank at me, and then it sank in. She grinned and shook her head.

“Donna, how the fuck are we going to explain this?”

“Why should we? Life goes on. Now I know I am not dying, let’s move south.”

“Are you sure, perhaps we should get you to a doctor?”

“Do me a favour. No, we go on. Besides the nausea has all but gone.”

Steve popped his head round the tent flap.

“Hey guys, all okay?” he asked. He saw my breasts, and paled.

“Bloody hell!” he said.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Jenny asked me.

“Yeah, go and pack, I’ll be fine.”

She left and Steve came in and lay beside me, looking at my chest.

“Where did they come from?” he asked inanely. I had to laugh.

“I’ve grown them for you,” I said.

He looked at me.

“How?”

“My love for you has changed me into a real girl,” I teased.

He looked at the breasts again.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

I pulled the sleeping bag down and showed him my crotch.

“Fucking hell!” he said.

“So, you won’t be getting my bum, thankfully,” I said.

“You would have let me?”

“I don’t know, Steve. I wanted you inside me so much; I can’t explain it. I think I understand how and why people do it. I think I love you, and so I’d have been willing to do anything to give you pleasure.”

“Even that?”

“Even that. Our social prejudices weren’t going to be strong forever. I’m just pleased that whatever triggered this means that’s not an option, unless we find we actually try it and like it!”

“Donna, this can’t happen, I mean, it just is impossible.”

“It has happened, and by the way, Jenny thinks I’m ovulating, so you go out and buy some condoms. I do not intend having your baby yet.”

He stared blankly at me, his mouth opening, but no sound emitting.

“Steve, get it through your head, I’m a girl now. A real girl, not just a screwed up bloke who desperately wanted to believe he was a girl. Therefore, I have girl’s bits and if you screw me, I could get pregnant. Okay?”

“I still don’t understand how,” he said.

“Do you care how, really?”

He shook his head.

“If you’re gay and prefer boys, now is the time to tell me.”

“I’m not gay, I promise.”

“Sure?”

He nodded. “This is too weird, I mean, this just can’t happen!”

I shrugged. “Well it has, do you want me to change back?”

“No way!”

“Neither do I, but help pack, I need a shower,” I said, and got up and went to the washroom.

I stepped into the shower, looking down at my body. Words cannot describe the feelings I had at that moment. I felt between my legs, and could find no fault with my new equipment. My smallish breasts with large and beautiful nipples were simply the most wonderful things, and I felt sensationally and properly alive for the first time in my life. The few days of pretence had been fun, but it had been like a voyage of discovery. On the scheme of things, that is all it had been, playacting.

This was for real, and I found a silly grin etched on my face.

I stood in the ladies, with my breasts exposed, applying on my make up. I knew who and what I was, and was damn proud of it. I slung on a tee shirt, without a bra, and got a thrill from the sensation of the material against my nipples. I wore a very short skirt, and walked back to the tent in bare feet.

I packed away my stuff, while Steve kept looking at me and grinning. The boys took the tent down, rolled it up and packed it away. Jenny and I put on our leathers, my trousers were ever so tight on the bum now, so I had to admit to having seriously changed shape in just a week. I lay on the ground but still couldn’t get them done up. The waist was fine, but my hips were too wide.

“Fuck it!” I said, and slung them into my bag. I took out a pair of dark tights and a black mini skirt. I then put them on, with some high-heeled boots. With my leather jacket, I looked very hot.

Steve stared at me. “Shit Donna, you’re never wearing that?”

“I can’t get my leathers on, so yes, any objections?”

“On a safety front, yes, but as far as I’m concerned - none at all. Except, I just want to screw you.”

“You’ll have to wait, so don’t have an accident,” I said, grinning at him.

“Oh come on Donna, you can’t wear that,” Jenny said.

“Not you too, why not?”

“Because I can’t match that.”

“Course you can.”

She grinned, taking off her leathers, and found an equally short skirt and sexy boots.

The guys started the bikes, so we swung our legs over the pillion saddles and made ourselves comfortable. We drove out of the campsite to the wolf whistles of the few men watching. I felt wonderful, smiling at Jenny as we rode down the highway side by side.

I found the vibrations of the bike and being close to Steve very erotic, so I became turned on. I rubbed myself against him, so as the morning went on, I was getting more and more randy. My mind was in a strange whirl. I couldn’t get my head around what had happened, and I kept laughing for no other reason than I was incredibly glad to be alive and a girl.

I slid my hand down the front of my knickers, and I felt very damp. I hugged Steve, sliding my hand down to his crotch and started rubbing him.

He turned his head.

“Don’t, Donna, not while I’m riding!” he shouted.

I was like a bitch in heat, as I kept trying to imagine what it was going to be like with him inside me. It was a strange experience, going from a boy who hardly thought about sex, and who felt guilty and confused as he realised that all his contemporaries seemed to think about it all the time. To a girl who was seriously contemplating losing her virginity the same day as receiving the finest gift she could ever have been given.

We pulled over at a lay-by in a picturesque forest area. There was a pile of logs and a mossy bank leading down to a stream, which meandered gently through the woods. Sunlight streamed through the trees, but I had one thing on my mind.

We took off our leather jackets and drank some water from the bottles in our panniers. It was nice lying on the moss, so I took off my tights, as I was overheating. My kickers were so wet. I stuffed them in a pocket, and did the same with my tights.

Steve was lying next to me, on his side, with his head propped on his elbow.

“Donna, were you ever a bloke?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I don’t think so, not a proper one. I think I was one of those people that had extra skin or something. All I do know is I am now who I want to be, and I want you so much!”

He reached out and pulled me gently towards him. We kissed, and I felt a rising passion well up inside my whole being.

“Donna, I so want you, but I’m afraid.”

“What of? You want me, I want you, we’re both adults and I can’t think of any reason why we shouldn’t!”

Smiling, he stroked my face with his hand.

“I love you, Donna. I think I always have.”

“Always?”

“Since I first saw you, anyway. That’s what has made it all so hard.”

“Shh, just show me!” I said, and opened my legs so he could see I wasn’t wearing any knickers.

He looked down and then met my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

I simply nodded, reaching for his belt and a condom.

The experience will be something that I will never forget. He wasn’t long, but neither was I. He was annoyingly gentle and caring, seemingly afraid that he was going to split me in half or something. I lay back, guiding him into me. I was more than ready, so he slid into my very moist little hole with no effort at all. The sensations around my vagina were something else. As his pubic area touched my engorged clitty, I was sent up to new heights and stayed there shuddering with pleasure. There was a slight obstruction, but he thrust and I had a moment of pain, but then it was gone. I wasn’t a virgin anymore!

I had nothing to compare these feelings with, but I knew now what an orgasm was, and boy, did I?

To be completely filled, impaled on his manhood, and to gaze into his eyes as he fucked me, heightened my pleasure. I saw such love, or was it lust, in his eyes, so I knew that this man was mine for the asking, so I took him. To feel his weight on top of me, as I wrapped my limbs around him and rocked in rhythm with him, we became as one. It was almost a spiritual experience.

When he finally came, I felt an urge to rip off the condom and allow his seed to enter my womb, and it was a very animalistic and natural feeling.

As he withdrew from me, I kissed him and snuggled into his embrace. I glanced over to see Jenny and Mike finishing as well. Jenny met my eyes and smiled.

“How was it?” she asked.

I simply smiled and she nodded.

“That good?”

I nodded, turning and looking into my lover’s eyes.

“Thanks, that was amazing,” I said, kissing him.

His gentle smile said it all.

“Worth the wait?” I asked.

He nodded and stroked my breast.

I felt a tingle of excitement, knowing that sex was definitely something I was going to enjoy.

We had a lazy hour, just being close, and eventually we had some baguette and cheese, a drink and some apples for lunch, and took off again.

My knickers and tights were still in my pocket when I swung my leg over the saddle, so Steve knew that I had fresh air between me and the bike. My mini skirt hid nothing, so it was almost too much for him to bear.

We drove on. I just hugged my man, and actually almost managed to doze off.

We found a campsite near Cap Ferret, the mussel capital of France. As we rode in, a large group of middle-class English people observed us with some trepidation. They were there with their shiny Volvos and BMWs with the nice clean tents with three bedrooms, and suddenly they were faced with leather clad, mini-skirted bikers, who just wanted to fornicate the day away.

We pitched as far away from them as we could. As soon as the tent was up, we went inside, and Steve was up me. I couldn’t help it, as the bike’s vibrations just turned me on so much, so I just had to have him as soon as we stopped.

We did away with the central dividing wall, so when we fucked, we all fucked. Although the guys wouldn’t do anything with each other, which I teased Steve about, Jenny and I held nothing back. It was fun. I enjoyed kissing her and, considering I had never kissed anyone before, the whole experience was fantastic. Being in France, I took every opportunity to show my new tits off, by walking around topless whenever I could. I bought the most miniscule thong bikini, with so little material in it, as made no difference! The top covered my nipples, just, while the bottom almost covered my pubic hair, which I later shaved off, as Steve liked it that way.

We partied at a local folk singers bar. One evening, Steve persuaded me to take my guitar along. I was reluctant, as I had yet to even open the case. I was finding sex far more exciting.

We sat at a table, outside in the warm summer air, listening to some indifferent French couple warble their way through some unidentifiable number on the small outdoor stage.

“Go on Donna, give us a tune,” Mark said, he was slightly pissed.

I think the rest of the audience had had enough of the couple, as I was suddenly encouraged to give it a bash. The couple stopped and received polite applause, and went to have a drink.

Now the Don whom I had been would have run a mile, but Donna was totally different. I took out my guitar, tuned it up by ear, and strummed a few chords. The Steve told me to go onto the stage. The compere, I think he was the landlord, waved me up.

“Comment tu t’appelles?” he asked.

“Donna. Je suis anglaise.”

“Ah, bon, what, er, are you going to sing for us ?” he asked in heavily accented English.

So I told him that I had composed three songs and written the lyrics, so tonight would be my debut performance.

He went to the microphone, introducing me as — “Donna, from England.”

I had never sung in front of others, ever. Yet, strangely, I was in my element. Feeling invincible and a little nervous, I smiled at the sea of faces and started strumming. I closed my eyes and started to sing.

The voice came from an angel, as it was not the voice I knew, so as I gained confidence, I built volume and depth.

The first song was called Left Behind, and reflected my feelings as someone who was always ignored by others. I had written it about a year ago, as it was how I used to feel, so it was rather melancholy.

The next song was called, If you go, inspired by an event in my past when a good friend moved away, and I missed him dreadfully. The last song I had written over the last few days, and was entitled, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it. Spoke for itself really. I had thought of the lyrics while on the pillion, whilst holding the man I had come to adore.

The last song was totally different, being raunchy and up beat. I got everyone clapping and singing the chorus. The applause at the end was amazing.

The applause kept going, and shouts of “Encore.” rang out. So I played Stand by your man, staring at Steve throughout, as I sang.

Once again, the applause was wonderful, and I was aglow. I felt totally brilliant, as I bowed to the one hundred or so in the audience. I went back to the table, to find Steve looking at me with a really soppy expression on his face.

“Bloody hell!” he said, and we four convulsed into laughter.

The landlord came over, and pulled up a chair.

“Zat was very good, chéri. How you like to play every night? I pay you,” he said.

I was very pleased and flattered, but we were moving on tomorrow, so I told him so.

“You have a good voice — very strong. You look good too. I see you famous one day, and remember, you start ’ere,” he said, smiling. He made me sign a menu card, which he pinned behind his bar. It was weird signing my name as Donna Armitage.

I thanked him and he gave us a complimentary bottle of champagne. We were all slightly pissed as we made our way back to the campsite.

We stripped off and cuddled up in the tent. I was held very close by Steve’s large arm.

“I never knew you could sing like that,” he said.

“Neither did I,” I admitted, giggling.

Jenny and Mark were snogging, and I could see that they would be fucking any minute. Steve and I watched, becoming aroused and very soon we were all at it. It was very erotic as I lay on my back. I looked across and saw Jenny looking at me, as we were both being fucked by our men. I smiled at her and she smiled back. We had all become very close on this holiday.
 

*          *          *
 
The next morning we packed up and rode out, much to the delight of some of the resident English families, who thought we would corrupt their children.

We rode south, spending a couple of nights at Biarritz, before heading east along the foothills of the Pyrenees. It was cooler in the hills, and I managed to buy a new pair of girl’s leather trousers for the bike. I also managed to acquire some really sexy black leather boots with three inch heels. The leathers did manage to curtail some of the vibrations, so I was marginally less randy when I got off the bike.

We settled into a lovely routine, of riding for a couple of hours, then having lunch at a café, and then riding for another couple of hours in the afternoon. Once we got to four o’clock, we started looking for somewhere to pitch the tent, and a few nights we were in a forest or a farmer’s field.

The scenery was spectacular, and I was so happy, I never wanted the holiday to end. Steve was so attentive and loving, I had a hard time remembering who I used to be.

One evening we were actually staying at a hostel in the mountains. We were wearing clean clothes, having showered and cleaned ourselves properly. My hair was washed and flowing free, and I was wearing a dress for the first time, as I really liked short skirts and low cut tops.

We were sitting at a café drinking our usual pre-dinner beer, and Steve looked at me.

“What the hell happens when we get home?” he asked.

I had been putting off that question, trying not to think about the future. I had to face my parents, the university and all kinds of problems. I didn’t want to think about them now.

I shrugged.

“Seriously, Donna. There is no going back to who you were, even if you wanted to.”

“Which I don’t!” I said, quite emphatically.

He grinned.

“That makes two of us.”

“So?”

“Are you going to pretend to be a boy for the last year?” he asked, and Jenny laughed.

“Come on Steve, how can she ever pass as a boy. You even thought she was a girl when she was a boy, and now, there is no way she could ever pass for a boy.”

“Thanks Jen,” I said.

“So, what do we do, hide you away?” Mark asked.

“No way. My first visit must be to my family doctor. He knows me, so will be able to say that there must have been a mistake or a gender condition. That way I can get a new birth certificate. Then I can slowly get legal as a girl. Beside that, I need to go on the pill,” I said, and Steve went red.

“What about your folks?” asked Mark.

“What about them?”

“Will they have a fit?”

“My mum won’t, at least I don’t think she will. But my dad will probably have a heart attack,” I said.

“We shouldn’t have done this to you,” Jenny said.

“Don’t be daft. You didn’t do anything, as soon as I became me, things happened. And I am ever so grateful, as I would never go back to how I was before.”

Steve just looked at me, and Mark took another photo of us all.

“This film has got to be worth a fortune, as it charts the transformation of Donna Armitage, from male nonentity to singing female superstar,” he said.

“Shut up, Mark,” said Jenny, and I just smiled.

The guys went off to get some more beers and Jenny moved closer to me.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it very different?”

“What, being a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, you wouldn’t believe it. But I don’t think I was ever a boy, not completely. I mean, I’d never had sex, so I can’t compare that. I hadn’t even wanked or had a male orgasm. No the real difference is in me, the person.

“You know I was a quiet and shy guy, and just minded my own business. I just went through life, making no waves, yet always seeking for something that wasn’t there. Well, I feel totally different now. It’s as if I’ve been given an injection that improves my confidence and fills out my personality. Jen, I can laugh at myself now, I can cry, I feel so complete. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve found that something, and it’s wonderful.”

“What was it like making love to Steve, you know, before you were a real girl?” she asked.

I smiled.

“I only ever had oral. I was tempted to allow him to screw me, but I suppose, my prejudices held me back. It still seems dirty and wrong, somehow. I know that loads of people do it, but I just couldn’t. I mean, oral is disgusting enough if you think about it. I just couldn’t let him up my bum! It’s so weird, but I just wanted to please him, and I had this irresistible urge for him to be inside me, and there was only one way for that to happen. I’d never had a gay desire in my life, yet I really wanted him to fuck me. But, I changed, so I never had to.

“Now I don’t have to, I’m tempted to try it, just to see what it’s like. But the proper way is so utterly wonderful, I guess I’ll have to be really pissed or highly turned on before even considering it.”

“I wonder what it’s like,” Jenny said.

“You want to try it, don’t you?” I asked, and she smiled.

“Perhaps. I’m not sure, but I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like up my bum.”

“I have too, obviously. I think Steve does as well. In a way I think he was a little in love with Don, and that way he could fuck Don at the same time as Donna.”

“You mean Steve is gay?” Jenny asked, shocked.

“He says not. He told me he fancied me before he knew I was a boy, but I reckon he never stopped fancying me, even after he found out. I mean, we had absolutely nothing in common, and I never could work out how or why we should be friends, let alone share a house together. The only answer is he wanted me close, because he fancied me.”

“Shit!”

“Anyway, back to anal sex. Mark is as big as Steve, so I reckon we need plenty of lube. We should get worked up first, and go to the loo before and empty. I think we should take it very slow, and try to relax as we get penetrated, it should help if they stimulate our clitties at the same time, as it relaxes the muscles, it does mine anyway.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” she asked.

“What?”

“I’d never kissed a girl before you.”

“So?”

“I enjoyed it, and then when you licked me, shit. I thought I would never stop coming.”

“I liked it too, so?”

“Does that mean we are lesbians?”

“No, it means we like sex and beautiful people. You were so sexy when Mark was fucking you, and I was so turned on, I just wanted to join in. You forget, my first sexual experience was with Steve, and we were both technically male. So for me the gender boundaries are all a bit vague. Jenny, you’re a gorgeous girl, and if I were going to go for a girl, it would be you. But I like Steve too much, and I know you like Mark, neither of us will be distracted from them, so where is the harm in a little fun?”

She laughed, and the guys returned, so our conversation had to cease.

“Steve’s Dad called him,” Mark said, as they sat down.

“Really, is he worrying about you?” I asked.

“No, he’s in down in the south of France, he’s in Monaco shooting a movie. He wants us to meet up; he says he will pay for us to stay a couple of nights in a hotel.”

“Cool!” said Jenny.

“What’s the movie?” Mark asked.

“I dunno, some spy thriller with an American cast. I think Matt Damon is in it.”

“He’s hunky,” I said, but Steve looked a little hurt.

“Not as hunky as you,” I added, and he grinned at me.

We reached Monaco early in the following evening, having ridden along the south coast to get there. The promise of a fancy hotel spurred us past some first class campsites near Nice.

Steve’s Dad told us that he had booked us two rooms at the Hotel Splendide. I questioned him about whom he had told his father was on the trip.

“I simply told him that Mark and I had our girl friends with us. He asked me if we were sleeping together, and I said we didn’t sleep much,” he said and grinned.

“Oh, does he know we are sharing a house?”

“I said we were all house mates, and that you and I are a recent thing.”

I smiled.

I had been to Monaco before, but still the sight of the place was spectacular as we rode down the Grand Corniche. We pulled up on the bikes outside the hotel, and the doorman’s face was a joy to behold, as four black leather clad individuals, lugging rucksacks entered the front door.

Steve went to the desk, where a snooty-faced girl reluctantly accepted that there were two rooms reserved for us.

We were shown to our rooms by a bellhop who had decided that there was unlikely to be a tip on this job, but was surprised when Steve gave him a twenty Euro note.

The room was fantastic, with a huge double bed. There was a balcony overlooking the marina, which must have cost his father a fortune. There was the most luxurious bathroom, with gold taps and everything. I started running the bath almost before the bellhop closed the door. I stripped off and was in the bath in no time. Steve joined me, so we got up to all sorts of fun in the foam.

I dried myself off, while Steve just lay in the bath. I had exhausted him, again. I then unpacked my rucksack, hanging up my three slightly crumpled dresses and skirts. I had thrown anything of Don’s away on my first day as Donna, so I had one pair of trousers to my name, and they were the motorcycle leathers. I unpacked Steve’s stuff as well, smiling as this little domestic task gave me a little buzz of pleasure.

I found room service and called them and asked them to collect, clean and press my dresses. I added some of Steve’s trousers, as they were just rolled up in his rucksack. They were very quick, returning them in about an hour.

Steve just appeared when they brought the clothes back, wearing the hotel’s bathrobe.

“Dad will meet us for dinner at eight. So we have two hours to kill,” he said.

I dressed in a little black dress, stockings and high heel shoes. I had little jewellery, so felt completely underdressed when we went down to the bar. The women were wearing several million pounds worth of diamonds everywhere I looked. I just had my dolphin earrings and a crucifix on a little gold chain round my neck. I had a cheap Casio wristwatch, and no rings at all.

Jenny had on an emerald green dress, which matched her eyes, and suited her red hair. She looked stunning. Even the guys looked as if they had washed. As I passed the front desk, I started to giggle.

“What’s up?” Steve asked.

“The date, 15th June, it’s my birthday. I’m twenty today, and I forgot,” I said.

“Happy birthday.” he said, kissing me.

The hotel was oppressively formal and very staid. We all found it rather uncomfortable, so we crossed the plaza and found a little café that was more in line with our tastes. There seemed to be mainly younger people here, and there was a guy playing Spanish guitar in the corner.

Mark bought the beers, and was shocked at the prices. Steve muttered something and dashed off, saying he would be back.

“He just doesn’t want to get the next round in,” muttered Mark.

While we listened to the music, I watched the guitar player’s fingers. He was very good. After a couple of numbers he stopped to have a drink. I got up and walked over to him.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hola.”

“Es muy buen,” I said.

“Gracias, senorita.”

I looked at his guitar. It was very old and beautifully decorated with mother of pearl.

“You play?” he asked, in English. I laughed.

“Do I really look that English?” I asked.

“Si. All the fair girls are English,” he replied, in very good English.

“What about the Germans and Dutch?”

“They are not as beautiful as the English,” he said, with a grin.

I laughed, as he handed me his guitar.
 

*          *          *
 
I sat down and strummed a few chords. It had a beautiful sound, and was perfectly tuned. I grinned.

“Play something,” he said.

Remembering the instrumental piece that Dire Straights played for the movie, Local Hero, I started to play, and his expression of amused interest changed to one of serious appreciation.

Half way through the piece, I noticed Steve returning with an older version of him, who had to be his father. His father was talking on a mobile phone and, as they arrived at the door, Steve pointed at me, obviously telling his father whom I was.

They sat down at the table with the others, but I was worried, as Steve’s dad was staring at me. It was very disconcerting. However, I finished the piece, and was rewarded by a smattering of applause.

“Very good, you know anything else?” the Spaniard asked.

I started to play, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it. And started to sing.

Steve’s dad spoke briefly into his phone and put it away. He turned to Steve, said something and then looked back at me again.

I finished the song and the applause was more appreciative this time.

I handed the guitar back to the man.

“Gracias,” I said, and gave him my best smile.

“You play well, you are professional, yes?”

“Student. But one day, perhaps.”

“Adios,” he said, and I went back to the table.

Steve and his father stood as I approached. Mark looked embarrassed and followed suit.

“That was brilliant, love,” Steve said.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him, so he kissed me.

“Oh, Donna, this is my dad. Dad, this is my girlfriend Donna Armitage.”

“Hello Mr Granger. I’ve heard a lot about you,” I said.

He took my hand, holding it for a moment.

“Donna, you’re the first girl of Steve’s that I have been allowed to meet. Believe me, it really is a pleasure. But please call me David. Tell me, that last song, Steve tells me you composed it and wrote the lyrics, is that right?”

I blushed.

“Yes, I suppose I was inspired by events on this holiday.”

“You’re very talented, have you thought of turning professional?”

“Not really, I just want to finish my degree and see what happens.”

“What course are you taking?” he asked, still holding my hand.

“Business studies and French.

He stared at me for a second.

“Wasted on you. You should be doing drama and music.”

“I’m doing drama,” said Jenny. David looked at her and smiled.

“Then when you have finished, look me up, I’m sure I can find a part for you.”

“Cool, thanks,” she said, smiling with surprise.

David turned back to me.

“What are you doing at the moment?” he asked.

I looked down at his hand, which still held mine, and then back at his face.

“At the moment, I’m standing in a café with my hand trapped by a film producer,” I said, with a cheeky smile.

He laughed, releasing my hand, so we could sit down.

“Seriously, have you any plans for the rest of the summer?”

I looked at the guys.

“Not really, we are just bumming around in the sunshine. When the money runs out I suppose we will head back to uni,” I said, and the others nodded.

David looked at all of us.

“Look, I have a problem. Do you know the American movie star Craig Howard?”

I had, so I nodded.

“Okay, well, he has a part in my movie, Tapestry of Deceit, playing a CIA agent trying to trace a mole within the organisation. The plot is quite convoluted, as he traces the guy to Monaco, but there he falls in love with a nightclub singer, called Monique Lasselles. There, some guys try to kill the girl, because she unwittingly knows too much. He saves her, but then they chase Craig all over Europe. Eventually, he finds himself back in Monaco, but the hunted become the hunters, as Craig tracks down the bad guys one by one until he corners the head nasty. However, the nasty man takes Craig down and is about to kill him when she steps in and saves his life. She ends up having her own place, courtesy of a grateful CIA.

“Anyway, Madeline Masters was going to play the singer, but she has gone and over run on another movie, so is not free for three months. It’s not a huge part, as Craig is the star, and most of the action is down to him going solo up against the bad guys. But, I can’t get a replacement in time, but when I saw you singing, I thought, ‘That’s it, I’ve found her.’ - so what do you say?”

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To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
To say I was stunned into silence was an understatement. I was completely gobsmacked, so my first reaction was to laugh, but he was serious. Mark laughed, but stopped when Jenny looked sharply at him.

“You want me to play opposite Craig Howard?” I asked, incredulously. For Craig was a big star, not perhaps as well known as Matt Damon, but still one of the best.

“Yeah, subject to a screen test, have you a problem with that?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“Now, I’m aware that you haven’t an agent, and you aren’t even a member of Equity, so we would have to sort that out. I’ll arrange a contract, and I will pay you whatever we were going to pay Madeline, as we won’t need to employ another singer to dub over your voice.”

I sat there stunned.

Steve passed across a little package, wrapped in silver paper.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

I stared vacantly at him.

“Huh?”

“You’re twenty today, remember?”

I smiled, but then had a terrible thought. My little present forgotten for the moment, I immediately thought of my mother.

“I’d better phone my mother,” I said.

“Here, use my cell phone,” said David.

I dialled my home and my heart raced as I waited. I hoped that my father wouldn’t answer. I went out of the café for some privacy.

“Hello?” said my mother’s voice, I almost wept with relief.

“Hello Mum.”

“Don. How lovely. Happy Birthday dear.”

“Thanks.”

“Where are you?”

“Monte Carlo,” I said.

“How nice, is the weather nice?”

“Lovely thanks.”

“Are you having fun?”

“It’s brilliant.”

“So, who is with you?”

“My house mates, Mark, Steve and Jenny.”

“What, only one girl?”

“Yes and no, Mum,” I said.

“What is it, is something the matter?” she asked.

“Everything is brilliant. Look I can’t really explain on the phone, but something weird has happened to me, and I have changed a little since you last saw me. But I’m very happy, so I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Don, your voice is very odd, what is it, what has happened?”

“Mum, do you remember once telling me how if I had been a daughter, then Dad would have been nicer to me?”

“Yes, but that was years ago, and I was very silly to have said such a thing.”

“No, you weren’t. It seems that we might get the chance to find out if you were right.”

“Oh my God, you haven’t had a sex change?”

“Mother, I didn’t need one, I was a girl all along. I just had some defective genetic growth, which gave me the appearance of being male. But it has all cleared up, so I’m now a perfectly normal girl.”

“Don, you're not making any sense.”

“Mum, my name is Donna now, and I’m a normal girl. I want you to believe me when I tell you that I’m happy for the first time in my life.”

“Oh God, I'm so confused.”

I felt frustrated and exasperated.

“You think you’re confused, you try having it happen to you. Look, I’m staying in a hotel in Monaco, I have a great boyfriend, and his father is a movie producer. I have just been offered a small part in a movie, so my life is going from good to better. But I need you to say nothing to Dad.”

“Oh my God, he’ll kill you.”

“No he won’t, because he won’t know, unless you tell him. And you won’t tell him, because you love me. Will you mother?”

“I can’t tell him, he wouldn’t believe me anyway. I don’t believe it anyway. Oh Don, are you gay, is that what you are trying to say?”

“Mother, I’m not gay, I’m a normal, perfectly straight, fertile female, who was wrongly gendered at birth. Oh, and my name is Donna. When I come home, I’ll correct the mistakes with the doctor and the registration people. You’ll eventually see your daughter conceive and bear your grandchildren.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“You, you’re a girl?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Really?”

“Yes Mum.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, really, I don’t. All I know is that I’m very happy, and it’s brilliant.”

“What about your university degree?”

“What about it?”

“Are you going to complete it?”

“I don’t know, possibly.”

“This is all very difficult.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“Was it painful?”

“What?”

“Any of it?”

“Not really, I had a little discomfort when I ovulated for the first time.”

“You ovulated?”

“Yes, it’s what we girls do, remember?”

“Really ovulated?”

“Yes, I imagine I’ll have the curse soon too.”

There was silence.

“Mum?”

“Sorry, I still can’t quite believe this.”

“I know, and I did say I couldn’t really explain this on the phone.”

“Donna?”

I was so pleased she used my name. Tears came to my eyes.

“Yes Mum?”

“Just know I love you, and I’m so proud of you, whatever happens.”

That was it, I just cried and had to say goodbye, but she was crying too. I crumpled where I was and sat on the wall and wept.

A pair of familiar strong arms encircled me.

“It’s okay, babe,” said Steve.

I leaned against him and sobbed my heart out.

I was still holding his gift to me, unopened.

I opened it, to find a super little ring with a single big diamond set in it. It was so pretty, I wept some more. He took it from my hands, slipping it onto my left ring finger.

I looked up at him.

“Will you, eventually?”

I nodded and he kissed me. I started to laugh.

“What?” he said.

“I think I’d better wait to tell my mum that I have just got engaged to the most gorgeous bloke in the world.”

We sat there for a while, as I tried to get it together again. He sat holding me, as it just made me feel better.

“She didn’t believe me to start. She thought I was trying to tell her I was gay.”

“Oh,” said Steve.

“But she called me Donna at the end, and said she loved me regardless.”

The others came out of the café and walked over to us. Mark looked at Steve.

“Bad?”

“Not really, just heavy,” he said.

David was frowning.

“She has a problem with her father. Don’t ask, Dad, just leave it,” Steve said.

We returned to the hotel, so I went to the ladies and repaired my streaky mascara. Jenny came too and gave me a hug.

“Happy birthday, Donna,” she said. “You look a lot older than twenty.”

“Thanks Jen, I’m in a right state. I feel about fifty, what with everything I’ve been through.” I said, and we both laughed.

“Is this job offer for real?” she asked.

“I don’t know. God, Jen what do I do?”

“Take it, as you don’t get a chance like this more than once a lifetime.”

She noticed my ring.

“Bloody hell, Donna, he hasn’t?”

I nodded, smiling as we both looked at the diamond sparkle in the lights.

She shook her head.

“You two, you deserve each other.”

She gave me another hug.

The men were already seated in the very plush dining room, but when we entered, boy, did we enter. We were the youngest in the room, by about twenty years, so we were naked as far as the jewellery situation was concerned, yet every man in the room watched us as we walked across the room. I felt like a million dollars and I knew that Jenny looked gorgeous as well.

All the guys stood as we approached, and a waiter appeared and pulled the chairs back for each of us.

I noticed that there were three extra places at the table, and frowned. But then I heard an American voice.

“Hey there, David, sorry we’re late.”

I turned and saw three men approaching. One was Craig Howard but I didn’t recognise the others.

“Craig, glad you could make it,” David said, shaking the tall American’s hand.

“Okay, Craig, this little lady is Donna, she’s the singer I told you about. She has agreed to take the part of Monique. That there is my son, Stephen, he and Donna got engaged today. The lovely redhead is Jenny, and the hulk in the corner is Mark. All these kids are at University together.

“Guys, this is Craig Howard, Jerry Calder and Mike Newman. Jerry and Mike are part of the production team,” David explained.

Craig sat down next to me.

“So, have you done any acting?”

“Nineteen years worth,” I said, and Steve looked sharply at me.

“Sorry?”

“A little. But only college productions.”

“But you’re a singer, right?”

“I suppose you could call me a singer songwriter. But again, I’ve yet to hit the big time.”

“Well, you may get your chance. I understand that they are jacking up a sound and screen test for tomorrow?”

“Then you know more than me.”

He laughed, as the waiter appeared and we had to order. I was the only one who spoke fluent French, so ended up having to ask the poor waiter what was in everything. Americans were just so fussy, or at least these three were.

It was a very good meal, but I almost preferred the bread and cheese we had at some of the campsites. Simple was often so much better.

My life was becoming rather complicated, so I was sorely tempted to tell David, ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ but I chickened out. I was curious to see how far I’d get before they sussed me as a complete fraud.

We retired at about eleven, when David said he would send a car for me at eight thirty. I told him that the four of us would be coming, as moral support, to which he laughingly agreed.

Steve closed the bedroom door, and I looked at this enormous bed. He wrapped his arms around me, giving me a hug from behind.

“You’ve gone very quiet,” he said.

“A lot has happened. I get the impression that things are getting out of control.”

“Dad was absolutely stunned by your singing.”

“Obviously. What did you tell him?”

“Just that you were my girlfriend, and I love you.”

I turned and looked at him. It wasn’t the first time that either of us had mentioned the ‘L’ word, but somehow, it meant more now.

“You do?”

“Of course. I have since I first saw you two years ago.”

I started to cry.

“Hey, what’s that for?” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know it myself, until that first time Donna appeared.”

I looked at him, realising why I was his friend, why I did his work for him, and why I liked being with him.

“I love you too,” I said.

He kissed me.

“I suppose I always have, but, like you, I didn’t know it,” I said.

“Look at us, a couple of gay boys.”

“Speak for yourself, you’re the only boy here,” I said, and he kissed me again.

“Sorry, I’m a one girl guy, and I have her in my arms right now.”

“Just as well. I love you so much. I need you so much.”

“I need you more, who the hell will do my essays if you weren’t around?”

He gently undressed me, and we went to bed. He was so gentle with me that night that I cried with joy. We slept holding each other tight.
 

*          *          *
 
I was up at seven thirty and in the shower before Steve was even awake. I then woke him up, so he showered as I worked out what to wear. Eventually I dressed in a skirt and pretty top, with comfortable shoes with heels. I wanted to look smart, but not prissy, and casual without looking scruffy. I was careful with make up, thinking that they would probably re-do that anyway.

We all met up in the dining room for breakfast, after which the car arrived dead on time. We were taken to a studio just outside Menton in France. David was there to greet us.

“Right, Donna, I’d like you to go with Clara to makeup, and the rest of you, go and grab a cup of coffee. She won’t be long.”

Clara was a French girl, who took me to her domain. It was almost clinical with the chairs and mirrors, lights and banks of makeup.

The first thing she did was to remove all my carefully applied make up, and then cleaned my pores completely.

“You have a lovely complexion. What product do you use?” she asked in very good English.

“Just soap and water,” I said.

“Really. That’s amazing. Some of my clients spend hundreds of Euros getting their complexion half as clear as yours.”

“Oh.”

She kept up a light banter for about an hour, and then announced that she was happy with the result.

I was amazed, I looked completely different, very sophisticated, she had accentuated my cheekbones to give me rather a Scandinavian look. I was actually very pleased, and said so.

“It’s so refreshing to have someone who likes my work. Usually they complain that I’ve made them look too old, or too cheap, or something. I was asked to make you look European and mysterious, so I did. Your facial features are not Mediterranean, so I went for the northern look.”

“It’s cool. I look Norwegian or something.”

“Thanks, that’s what I intended. A lot of the people from the Normandy region have Norse blood, and that is where you are supposed to be from.”

I was impressed, as she had researched this quite thoroughly.

A runner took me to the studio, where I was told that the first test would be a sound test. I was sat on a stool, given a guitar and told to sing anything I wanted to.

I tuned the guitar, and then sang my three songs. I was alone in a sound studio with a headset on being watched by eight people in the control box. I saw my friends and gave them a wave.

When I had finished, I was asked to play the first one again. It was the melancholy Left Behind, and I tried to put as much feeling into it as I could.

The musical director nodded and announced that he was more than happy. David grinned at me, giving me the thumbs up sign.

I took off the headset and left the guitar on the stool. I left the studio, and met up with them all in the control box.

They played back the songs, which were digitally enhanced and fed through the complex system. I was astounded.

“Is that me?” I asked.

“Sounds good,” said John, the music director.

Good? It sounded fantastic, but it was somebody else’s voice.

“David, we need to arrange permission from the composer,” said John.

David smiled.

“You’re standing next to her,” he said, and John turned and looked at me.

“You wrote those?”

“Afraid so.”

“Okay. We need to sort out permission. If you want, I can arrange a recording contract, you retain Copyright, and we will undertake recording and distribution of musical material. If I’m right, you should do very well out of it.”

I looked at David, as this was all beyond me.

“I think I need an agent who can advise me,” I said, and both men laughed.

“Look, we won’t cheat you. I’ll set up two contracts, one for your music and one for your acting. They will be completely separate, and then you can check them with an agent or a lawyer, if you want. The important thing will be that you retain copyright of your own material. Okay?”

I nodded.

I was taken to another sound stage, met an assistant director and given a short script. It was a piece of dialogue from the movie, so I had to adopt a French accent. It was set in a bar, where the hero, Jake Barnes, was chatting me up, just as someone took a shot at me through the window. I had to go from a sultry bar singer, to a scared girl with killers after her.

I read through the script, and Craig Howard walked through the door. I hadn’t realised he would actually be playing his part on the screen test. But then I realised that he probably had it in his contract that I had to be acceptable for him to play next to.

The director came in and David introduced me to him. He was a grumpy man, giving little encouragement away.

“Okay, Donna. Ready?”

I nodded, putting the script down.

A man with a clapperboard came in front of the camera, and I nearly got the giggles when he made the announcement: -

“Quiet on the set. Donna Armitage. Screen test One. Take one.

We were off!

I switched Donna off, and became Monique. I forgot about the three cameras, I forgot about the people watching and tried to believe it was real. I thought in French, so my English came out with a perfect accent. I pretended that it was Steve with me in the bar, so the flirty bit went well. Then, someone made a noise of a gun, and I just threw myself on the floor.

I pretended that my father was arriving, and the terror was very real. I could hear the tremor in my voice, and swore under my breath in French. I got to the end of the part, and heard the word, “Cut.”

Craig pulled me to my feet.

“Hey, you lied to me, you're a swell actress,” he said. “You’ll be just right for the part. You look great, and I heard the song, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I managed to stammer.

I sat down, as the whole experience had left me drained.

“David, you bastard. You told me she had never acted before. Don’t do that again,” said the director. He walked over to me, with a smile, and shook my hand.

“Donna that was perfect. I doubt that bloody Madeline Masters would have done better than that. Well done! We will see you next week when we start your scenes,” he then turned and walked off.

David was delighted, and came bouncing over to me, my friends were all full of praise.

“You sure surprised me, you said you had never acted,” David said.

“No, I said I had hardly ever acted.”

“Never mind, that was really good. I’ve even managed to get your friends in as extras in the bar scenes. They look as if they have had experience hanging around in bars. Particularly my son, he looks like a deranged alcoholic!” he said, and we all laughed.
 

*          *          *
 
The week passed in a daze. We spent most of it either by the pool, or on the beach. We were told that we could stay at the hotel for as long as we wanted, but to be honest, it was almost too posh for us. But, once in, we were hooked, and we came to take the luxury for granted.

I spent one day with the wardrobe department, being measured for all the clothes they wanted me to wear. On the Friday we donned our leathers, took off for Italy, and spent the day at the market at the ancient town of Ventimelia.

Jenny and I bought lots of cheap jewellery and clothes. There were loads of street traders in Italy, trying to sell obviously fake designer labelled goods. We avoided them and had a great time. It was brilliant; the guys bought some clothes, and silly stuff like water pistols and glow-in-the-dark dildos. But it was nice to be out of the rarefied atmosphere of Monaco. We had a picnic lunch of cheap wine and bread and local cheese. I lay back in the sun and relaxed. Steve was a little unsettled.

“Donna?”

“What, my love?”

“Does this mean you aren’t going back to Portsmouth?”

I looked at him, reached out and took his hand.

“Whatever happens, I will be with you. I want to finish my degree, even if I never need the bloody thing. At least I can say, “I did it.” Besides, who the hell will write your essays if I’m not there?”

He grinned.

“Don’t change, will you?”

“Oh, Steve, I have had enough changing for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know. I don’t want to, but I will probably grow up a little. I’ve been a kid for a long time, and am in a grown up world now. But you know how to bring me back down.”

He kissed me.

We watched, with interest, as the French police stopped everyone coming back into France. They searched cars and shredded any counterfeit goods in front of the shaken travellers, all of whom had bought the stuff in good faith. The French take their trade-mark goods very seriously
 

*          *          *
 
We started shooting on June the 21st, and it took until August the 20th to complete all my scenes. Although I was the main love interest, I was off camera for a heck of a lot of the film. Everything was done properly, in that I received my Equity card, and signed all my contracts, having spoken to the Equity Lawyer, who told me to sign immediately as it was rare for a newcomer to be offered such a good contract. David set up an account in my name with a bank in the UK, and in accordance with my instructions, he placed all my salary into an on-line account. That way, I could access my account by phone or computer, and I now had an account as Donna. It was really exciting for me.

I was out by about a week when I predicted I’d get the curse. Five weeks to the day since I experienced those pains, I had my first period. It wasn’t much, but I found it exciting, as it meant that I was now a fully functioning female. I’m sure those who have experienced it for years will say I’m being silly, but to me, it meant everything. I was willing to put up with slight inconvenience to be who I now was.

The second one was different, and I almost wished I could change back. I flooded for three days and felt like shit. I was moody and miserable. Jenny teased me rotten, and to my delight, on my last day, she started.

The shooting ground on, but it was all so disjointed, I had no concept of the plot from the shooting schedule.

We had two sex scenes, one just after he saved my life, and one near the end of the movie. I was asked what I felt about nudity. I shrugged. I had no problem with it.

The first scene was in a hay barn, and it involved showing my tits only. We had to simulate having sex and, although I found Craig quite attractive, the twenty on-lookers put me off, and I had to close my eyes and think of Steve. I must have done all right, as we managed only two takes on that scene.

The other sex scene was in a bedroom, for which we were both naked, and half-covered by a sheet. I had a brief full frontal shot, and then we had to simulate sex. Craig wore a condom, “just in case of seepage,” he said with a smile.

Well, luckily Steve wasn’t there, because not a lot of simulation went on. There was a sheet conveniently placed over us, covering our bits, but after a bit of pretend rubbing up and down, I felt him rise to the occasion and slip inside me.

My eyes must have widened in surprise, for he looked apologetic, but we were in mid scene, so I just kept going with the oohs and aahs, and clawed at his back. My acting went out of the window, for my pleasure was not simulated at all, I went wild, and he responded in kind. He brought me to orgasm, as the onlookers made it even more erotic, if anything. I lost it then and he went along for the ride, eventually climaxing inside me, and we collapsed in a heap.

“Cut! Excellent, that’s a wrap!”

I grinned, as I knew that neither of us was capable of repeating that performance. They permitted us some privacy to dress, which was fortunate, as we had some cleaning up to do as well.

Craig looked guiltily at me. “Hey, that was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was,” I replied.

He looked awkward, and I felt a little guilt as well.

“Look, you are a lovely guy, but it was work, okay. Just pretend we acted and nothing happened. I have no right on you, and you have nothing on me. Deal?”

He smiled, holding his hand out. I shook it.

“No one will believe we just pretended that.”

“Why not, if we tell them, who’s to know?”

“We do. And half the crew must have had an idea.”

“So?”

“Don’t you care?”

“If this was sold as a porno movie, it wouldn’t sell, no one gets to see the meaty bits, we just grunted and kissed with a sheet over the interesting parts. You played with my tits, a bit roughly, if you don’t mind me saying so, and that’s it, we finished in a sweaty heap, job done. Everyone gets the idea that we fucked, and that’s what we were meant to do, who the hell cares if we fucked for real or not?”

“Your boyfriend, for one.”

“Steve? Maybe, but if I tell the truth he will be fine.”

“You’ll tell him?”

“If he asks, but he won’t ask.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he is too nice. Look, he isn’t stupid, he knows how sexual I am, and that there is no way that I can be naked next to any man like you and not get turned on. He also knows that no man, unless he’s completely gay, would ever fail to respond to me when I am turned on.”

“I see,” he said.

“Have you someone?” I asked.

“Yeah. There is a girl, she is kind of special, so I keep very quiet about her.”

“Ah,” I said, suddenly understanding about his qualms.

He smiled.

“You don’t want her to find out.”

“That’s it,” he admitted, with a smile.

“Then I will not say anything to anyone. I promise. But, you know what they are like, the press will have us together like a shot.”

“Yeah, I know. But she’s used to that. But I can do without it coming from a different, believable source.”

“Okay, I’ll say nothing. But it was a good fuck, just so you know.”

“Thanks, I guess it was,” he said, shaking his head, so I left him to finish dressing.
 

*          *          *
 
The last task was to record my songs, and then film the nightclub performances. Once that was done, I was at a loose end. David came to see me as I was in wardrobe, and he gave me a hug.

“Donna, I can’t tell you how good you were, a real natural. I’ve been looking at the first rushes, and you were brilliant. You've undoubtedly saved the movie.”

I smiled, as I hadn’t thought I was that good. It had been fun, and I got to do lots of things that I would never have done before, but it was just a job at the end of the day.

The others were full of it, and they had only been extras. They had loved every minute, and even had some speaking parts written especially. The movie had the special effects sequences to be added later by the CGE department, and then it would take a couple of months to edit and prepare for release. They hoped to be able to release it for the Christmas holidays, so I put it to the back of my mind. The whole experience was so unreal as to be a dream.

My songs were far more exciting, as they told me that they were going to release the three songs I had written, along with six that I recorded composed by other artists, on an album, as a sort of pre-movie commercial ploy. The musical director, Howard, got his orchestra together, and I had to write out all my song music. That was hard, as they were only for a single guitar. Howard arranged it for his session musicians, and they recorded the songs, while I sang over the top. The album would be released in September, so I was very excited about that. They even shot a promotional video, which was great fun. I just wore very little and mimed the songs while sitting on bar stools, walking down a beach, lying in the surf with a soggy tee shirt, or on a motorcycle with just a man's leather jacket on and nothing else.
 

*          *          *
 
Once back at the hotel, the cast and crew got together for a farewell dinner for us, as we decided it was time to ride home.

It was a superb dinner, and I was presented with a set of diamond drop earrings by Craig, on behalf of the crew and cast. I almost cried, but managed to thank everyone. We then all went over the road to the Casino, and despite being under twenty-one, I was allowed in. No one told them.

I watched lots of very rich people lose a lot of money, and found it faintly idiotic. Steve took in a thousand Euros, and came out with eight hundred. I shook my head, foolish boy.

The next morning was our last in Monte Carlo. Packing my clothes proved rather a challenge, as I had bought rather a lot over the last two months. Jenny and I decided to look into sending some home by mail. I went down to the lobby to speak to reception, and got the fright of my life.

There standing at reception counter was my mother.

I looked around but could not see my father.

“Mother?” I said, and she turned and stared at me.

I was wearing a white skirt and red blouse, and the blouse showed my cleavage in all its glory. I had stockings on and high heels, so I was about 5’9” with the heels. My hair was long and luxurious, and I knew exactly how sexy I looked.

“Don-na?” she said, her voice wavering.

I walked over to her and gave her a hug, but she was holding herself up on me. I led her to a pair of chairs at the side, and sat her down.

“Is Dad with you?”

She shook her head, still staring at me.

“No, he's in America on business for a couple of weeks. So I thought I’d try to find you.”

“You knew where I was, I never hid that from you.”

“I know dear, but it was quite a thing for me to come out here by myself.”

“How did you get here?”

“I flew, and took a taxi.”

I nodded, perhaps she could take my clothes home with her, I thought with a smile.

She was looking at my breasts and face, trying to find any trace of her little boy, I assumed.

“Don is gone, Mum. I’m Donna, and Don will never be coming back.”

She nodded, vacantly.

“Well, how do you like your new daughter?” I asked.

“I didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not.. not this,” she stammered.

“Would you like a drink, or a coffee?”

“In a minute dear, perhaps.”

“So, what did you expect?”

“I don’t know. I had no idea. It’s been very difficult not telling your father. Fortunately, he has been very busy with a deal in America, so he has not been around much.”

“I’m ready to face him now,” I said.

“Are you dear?”

“Yes. He has bullied us both for too long. I’m not the same shy little boy that he used to push around and try to relive his own youth. I’m a big girl, and I can more than stand up for myself,” I said.

“I see,” she said, but it sounded so pathetic, I laughed. She would always say, ‘I see’, whenever anyone said anything she was powerless to deal with.

“Look, take some moments to let things sink in. I’ll get us a drink, what would you like?”

“Just a coffee, please dear.”

I waved at a passing waiter.

“Deux café au lait, s’il vous plait.”

“Oui Mam’selle Armitage.”

“So?”

“Dear?”

“What do you think?”

“You are certainly very pretty. And you seem to have a lot more confidence. Not at all what I imagined.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You certainly don’t look like a boy.”

“Thanks, so I should think. Look, just please accept, that I’m not a boy. I never really was. But now I’m able to be the person I should have been at birth.”

“I always wanted a daughter, did you know that?”

“Yes, you told me, often.”

“Did I? That was naughty of me, I shouldn’t have. It’s probably all my fault.”

I took her hand, and she stared at my red varnished nails.

“Look, I am what I am, not because of what anyone said, but what my genes have told me to be. It’s what I want.”

The waiter brought our coffees.

As I poured the milk, she saw my ring on my left hand.

“So, you have someone already?” she said.

“Yes, he’s called Stephen Granger, and we are engaged to be married.”

“Oh my word. Does he know?”

“Know what, about Don?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, we lived together for the last two years.”

Her hands flew to her face as she drew the wrong conclusions.

“Oh Mummy, don’t be an arse. We live in the same house. We only became lovers a few weeks ago,” I said calmly.

“Oh dear Lord,” she said, and drank her coffee.

“You really are very pretty indeed,” she said, and I smiled.

“Thank you, I get my looks from my mother, but my obstinacy from my father.”

She actually smiled.

There was an awkward silence.

“So, now you’re here, what are you going to do?” I asked.

“I have no idea. It was a whim really.”

“You, a whim? That’s very out of character.”

“Don’t be cruel, I know your father has been very strong minded, but I do have my own strength, I’ve had to.”

“I’m sorry, I know, I’d be buggered if I’d have stayed with him all those years.”

“Donna, there’s no need to use such language.”

I laughed. “Good for you Mummy. I apologise.”

“What are you going to do next?” she asked.

“We’re planning to ride up through the Alps, and then home by the middle of next month. The next semester starts at the end of September.”

“Oh, you mean on those beastly motorbike things?”

“Yes mother, on those beastly motorbike things.”

“Oh.”

I smiled, as she was relaxing a little.

“Excuse me, Miss Armitage?”

I turned towards the new voice.

It was a young man, one of the studio aides.

“Hi, what?”

“Mr Granger was wondering if you would be willing to do a photo shoot, before you left?”

“What for?”

“Advance publicity release for the press.”

“When?”

“Now, if it convenient.”

“Look, my mother has just flown in, we haven’t seen each other in months, can’t it wait?”

“Donna, don’t be nasty, I can wait,” mother said.

I smiled.

“Okay, is it just me, or is Craig going to be here?”

“Just you, Miss. Mr Howard is doing his separately.”

I smiled, as there was less chance of nasty rumours getting out if we were not seen together.

“Bring your mother too, your fiancé is coming down from your room,” I was told.

Steve arrived, having put on a clean shirt and trousers.

“Hi babes. What’s up?” he said, giving me a kiss.

“Steve, meet my mum. Mum, this is the man I intend to marry, Stephen Granger.”

Steve stared at me and then my mother.

He stuck his hand out automatically, which she shook.

“Hi, this is a surprise,” he said, making a face at me. I had to laugh.

“Oh Steve, everything is fine. Dad is in the States, and she just wanted to come and see me.”

We went outside to pose by the fountain. There were three photographers, and they took several of me on my own, a few with me and Steve, me and Mum, and some of the three of us.

They finally announced that they had finished, so we went back into the hotel. Some eager tourists had obviously made some enquiries as to who we were, and I had to sign some autographs as an up and coming movie actress.

I took mother up to our rooms, where I introduced her to Jenny and Mark. Then I explained our clothing dilemma to her and she laughed.

“Oh, you girls, when will you learn?” she said. We bought a large suitcase, and put in what we didn’t need, and she agreed to take it home for us when she went.

We had lunch with her in the hotel dining room, and she was very quiet. Mind you, we were all on our best behaviour, so the swearing was cut almost completely. That is until Mark dropped a great dollop of ice cream into his lap, and said, “Fuck.”

Everyone stared at Mum, who looked round the table, at each of us in turn.

“What?” she said, and we just convulsed into laughter, even Mum, who had no idea why we were laughing.

“So, just how are you going to tell your old man?” Mark asked.

“I thought I’d ring him up and tell him outright. Because he'll see the press releases soon, and then the shit'll hit the fan,” I said.

“Donna, language!” said my mother, which started the laughter again.

“I’ll tell your father,” Mother announced.

“No Mum. I should do it.”

“You know he hates surprises?”

“Yeah, that’s why I have to do it.”

I took out my mobile phone, and keyed in his number. I would be about eight am in New York, so I should get him.

“Hello?”

“Hi Dad. It’s Donna, your daughter.”

“Who is this? Don is that you?”

“No Dad, Don is no more, he never was. My name is Donna, and I've always been a girl.”

“Who is this?” he started to bluster.

“For once in your selfish life will you listen and shut up,” I almost screamed, and the other diners looked round. I left the table, and mum joined me outside.

“Don?”

“No Dad, how many times do I have to say it? Don is dead, he is no more - he never was. My name is Donna. Due to a rare and strange genetic condition, I seemed to have male bits, and the doctors said that I was a boy. Well, they have all gone away, and believe it or not, and like it or not, I am your daughter. Mum is here with me, and so is my fiancé, and my friends from university. I will be going home soon, and my genetic condition will be noted and my legal gender changed officially.

“I thought it polite to inform you in advance, just so you can prepare yourself. I’d hate to embarrass you by springing a surprise onto you,” I said, the sarcasm creeping into my voice.

“Is this a joke?”

“No Dad, none of us are laughing.”

“Have you thought what this will do to me?” he said, and I felt my anger rise.

“You? YOU? Fuck you, you selfish bastard. When did you ever think about me? Or Mum? When did you ever put your sodding ego to one side and think about what either of us wanted or liked. My God. I wanted to tell you, to share something that happened in my life, and all you can think about is yourself. Well, Mister Sodding Armitage. Fuck you, fuck your ego, and if I never see you again, it will be too soon.”

I was about to hang up, when my mother took the phone from me.

“Gerald. Now you listen to me. How dare you treat your daughter like that.”

“Yes, she is your daughter, but you are so insensitive and selfish, I wonder why I have stayed with you for so long.”

“No, she is a beautiful girl, and very happy.”

“No, she is perfectly normal, and has a delightful young man. We are having lunch together as we speak.”

“Don’t be an insufferable arse. You stand to lose far more by saying things like that.”

“You know perfectly well that if that happens, you stand to lose a hell of a lot more than me.”

“I am not threatening you Gerald. I don’t have to. I know you put everything in my name for tax reasons, but I’ve seen a solicitor, and a financial adviser, so I know that as long as they are in my name, you have no power over them.”

“Gerald, as it happens, I know about the woman in Baltimore, and so you can kiss your precious money good bye, your beautiful new daughter goodbye, and me. Don’t bother coming home, you don’t live here anymore.”

She switched off the phone, and looked about ready to burst into tears.

“Mum….”

Mother held up one hand, struggling to control herself.

“That’s the other reason I came to find you. I found out he has been having an affair for the last two years, at least, and I’m considering divorcing him.”

It was my turn to be surprised.

“About bloody time, Mummy. You should have done that years ago,” I said, and she just smiled.

“I know dear, but I had you to worry about. I know that I don’t need to worry about you any more,” she said, looking at Steve and my other friends, still seated at the table. We went to join them.

“You’re in the very best of hands, and you have shown me that you are more than capable of looking after yourself. No, I also had to wait until I had that bastard exactly where I wanted him. He thought he was so clever, getting everything signed over to me so as to avoid paying taxes and evading excessive liability. Well, I’ve got rid of the lot, as I’ve sold everything, and put it where he will never find it. He is now penniless. Even the house is in my name.

“I found out his mistress’s name, as I had a private detective follow him. He photographed them together, and so I even have the copy of a hotel register in New York where they shared a room for a week. My lawyer has it all, so Gerald is being served divorce papers almost as we speak.”

I sat and stared at her. My old Mum. Never said boo to a goose, yet all these years she quietly put up with his infidelity, his philandering and his temper, and now she paid him back. She hit him where he really would feel it, his ego and his wallet. He had been screwed by the woman he took for granted for twenty-five years.

I went over to my mother, hugging her for all I was worth.

“I am so pleased for you. How do you feel?”

“Very sad, dear, I did love him, you know.”

“Oh Mummy, has it been so bad?”

“Not really. I always had you. My regret was that you were such a sad little child.”

“I’m not any more.”

“I can see that, and that’s why your phone call made me think about everything. I was so unhappy, and as you decided to take steps to change your life, so I decided to do something about mine.”

“Oh Mummy, I had no choice, as my body did all the changes, so I just had to go with it.”

“Yes, so you said, but what changed first, you or your body?”

“She did,” said Steve. The others had been so quiet, I had almost forgotten about them.

“She did?”

“Yeah. Donna arrived, and then she became the woman,” said Steve

“So, you did instigate the change,” she said to me.

“I suppose I may have done.”

“Well there you are then, mind over matter.”

I smiled.

“So, what happens now? Do you want me to come back with you?”

“No dear, you finish your trip. I’m going to stay with a friend who lives in Roquebrun for a few days, and then I shall fly home.”

“The least we can do is spend an afternoon shopping. It’s why mothers have daughters, isn’t it?” I said.

She smiled, giving me another hug.

We left the guys packing, and I took my mother shopping. I didn’t need any more clothes, so it was fun just looking. We bought each other little trinkets and walked arm-in-arm amongst the expensive shops and wealthy customers, just pretending that we were rich too.

We had some tea at a café, and she held my hand.

“I was wrong, Donna, when I said you were pretty,” she said.

“Oh?”

“You are a stunningly beautiful girl, and I am so proud of you.”

“Oh Mummy, you are wonderful. I know I’m very ordinary, really. But the joy of life inside me makes me far more beautiful than I truly am.”

“No, you have such a depth and strength of character, that you’ll never ever be ordinary.”

I smiled, but then she was biased.

“I’m just so sad that you never were allowed to be a little girl.”

“So am I, but I’m just content to be a big one.”

She smiled and squeezed my hand. We just sat together, not needing to say anything.

“I’m going to sell the house,” she announced.

“Good. Where will you move to?”

“I don’t know, anywhere apart from Wallingford. I think I’ll buy a flat in London, near the theatres and galleries. So I can do what I want to do for a change, without worrying about trains, parking or anything like that.”

“That sound good, then I can come and stay with you whenever I want.”

“Of course you can. Will you be home for Christmas?”

“Where is home, Mummy?”

“Wherever you are, my love,” she said, and I broke down into tears again.

“I’ll spend Christmas with you. I promise,” I said, and she cried too.

“I’m so glad, you’re all I have left now.”

We finished our tea and walked back to the hotel. She insisted on saying goodbye, giving me a hug before leaving in a taxi for her friend in Menton. The Studio arranged for the large suitcase to be taken to the airport, and would be waiting for her in a week’s time.

I watched the taxi drive out of sight, and went back into the hotel. David was seated in the lobby, obviously waiting for me. He saw I was quite sombre.

“Hi Donna. Steve told me about your father. I’m sorry.”

“Shit happens,” I said, and he chuckled.

“That’s what I like about you, you don’t let things get you down.”

“David, what do you want?”

He smiled. “You don’t take bullshit, either.”

“David.”

“Okay, I’ve just come to let you know that the initial payments have been made to your account. The remainder will be spread over the next twelve months, for tax reasons. Also, your album has already been produced, and will go on sale in the USA next week, and in the UK the week after. It’s an American Company, so they want first dibbs.”

“That’s sooner than they said.”

“There’s a reason.”

“Oh?”

“The studio like the movie so much, they are looking at a possible sequel. So, they want to release this one in November, and the other one perhaps for the same time next year. They think the album will act as a good precursor to the advertising push.”

“That will be good for Craig.”

“You misunderstand. They don’t want Craig, as he isn’t available in any case, they want you. The new female agent; your own movie.”

I stared at him.

“Me?”

“Yup, you.”

“Bloody hell. I didn’t think the movie was finished yet.”

“It isn’t, but I let them have a sneak preview, and it has the backing of the money men in America.”

I was stunned. What could I say? All my plans were getting mucked up completely. David wasn’t finished yet, either.

“They also want you to write and sing your own songs for the movie.”

“Bloody hell.”

“So?”

“Shit David, I don’t know. Should I?”

“You have to ask yourself, how often does a chance like this come about?”

“Not every day, I suppose,” I said, with a smile.

“You got that right, kid.”

“When do they want to shoot it?”

“When are you free?”

“Next June, after I have finished at Portsmouth.”

“What? You want to stay and do business studies?” he asked, surprised.

“Not really, but I have to write some essays for someone’s film studies assignments,” I said with a grin.

“Ah, so that’s how he managed to survive for so long.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave him. I happen to love him, you see.”

David smiled. “Then next June it is. I’ll have a contract drawn up. Who do you want as your love interest?”

“How about your son?”

He stared at me.

“You are kidding?”

“Sheen, Sutherland, Estavez, Minelli, Douglas, need I go on?”

He smiled. “I’ll give him a screen test, but no promises.”

“He has everything, the looks, the smile, the body, and the presence.”

“Can he act?”

“Can Schwarzenegger?”

“Okay, you win. But not one word, and only after he gets his degree, okay?”

“Deal,” I said, and we shook on it.

He then kissed my cheek and walked off, whistling.

I smiled and went up to the room.

Steve was just finishing doing up the straps on his rucksack. He was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and his leathers were on his chair. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Hi, how’s your mum?”

“Pretty bloody good, considering,” I said.

He came over, and held me in his arms for a moment.

“Still staying at uni?”

“Of course, who’s going to do your essays if I don’t?”

He kissed me, and it was enough to lift my spirits again.

“My Dad has been bloody odd.”

“Oh yes, why?”

“He keeps hinting that you won’t want to go back to Portsmouth, now you’ve had the one break that will make you, you’ll move on. I told him that he could offer you the movie of a lifetime, and you would stay at uni, if not for yourself, but for me. He didn’t understand how much we mean to each other.”

“Then that’s his loss, isn’t it?” I said, looking up at him, waiting for him to kiss me. He smiled and obliged.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
The Alps were simply spectacular. It was lovely setting off from Monaco on the bikes, and it was if the last two months had never existed. The open road was so liberating. We left all the pressures behind us, as we climbed slowly up into the foothills. We stopped off briefly at Grasse, where Jenny and I bought some perfume.

We smelled of roses and lavender for the rest of the trip.

When we set off, it was warm, so the leathers went into the rucksacks and out came the miniskirts again. However, as we got higher, the leathers came back out. It was so nice just stopping wherever we wanted and just taking in those breathtaking views.

We found a campsite by the most divine lake, and ended up staying a few days. Mark and Steve went off on that manly pursuit; attempting to persuade perfectly harmless fish to leave the water by eating a maggot with a hook stuck through its belly.

Jenny went off to the nearby minimarket, while I agreed to do the washing.
 
 
I was in the communal washroom, waiting for the machine to finish, when a young lad came in. He was about fifteen or so, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. He reminded me of the old me, he had longish hair and was slightly built, and had the same head-down type of attitude with which I could identify.

I was sitting on the windowsill reading a book, so he didn’t see me at first. He put down the bag of washing, and took out a bra, obviously his Mum’s or a sister’s. He took off his tee shirt and put the on feminine garment. I was grinning, but dared not move.

“Hé, il ne va pas vraiment avec ces short, chéri!” I said, and he jumped several inches, and went bright red.

“Oh shit, fuck! Oh my God!” he said, going bright red and ripping off the offending garment. He was English. The poor lad was so embarrassed, so I felt awful. I jumped off the windowsill.

“Hey, don’t panic. I won’t tell, and I don’t bite either.”

“You’re English?”

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Hi Sam, I’m Donna. Do you want to see something funny?”

“What?”

I took out my passport, and showed him my photograph, and the name, Donald James Armitage.

“That’s supposed to be me.” I said.

He stared at my mini skirt and my bikini top, which hardly hid anything.

“You aren’t a boy.”

“I know that, but they didn’t. It’s amazing how stupid people can be. How long have you been wearing girl’s clothes?”

“I don’t do it very often.”

“How long?”

“Since I was about ten.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“Is it because you get a kick out of it, or because you want to be a girl?”

“I think I want to be a girl. But I get confused, because I feel guilty.”

“Hey, I know what that’s like, but I’m a rare case, I actually was a girl who looked like a boy. I had all the bits and everything. But I lived for nineteen years as a boy, and it was tough.”

“No?”

“Yes. Absolutely true. Even my mum thought I was a boy. I only changed over the last few weeks.

“You look great,” he said, shyly.

“Thanks. Have you ever gone all the way?”

“What, with make up and stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I haven’t the bottle.”

“So what are you doing today?”

“My parents are going up some mountain, but I refused to go, so I have to do the washing.”

“Only child, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. So is my boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to?”

“What?”

“Go all the way, make up and stuff.”

“I don’t know, I shouldn’t.”

“What time are your parents due back?”

“I don’t know, supper time, I guess.”

“Then we have plenty of time. Would you like to?”

He looked at his feet, but nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Will you trust me?”

He looked up, met my eyes and nodded again.

“Okay, put the washing in to get washed, we won’t use Mum’s stuff, as it’s far too old for you,” I said. He loaded the machine, put the powder in and then the coins.

My dryer finished and I emptied it into the bag I had.

“Come on, we can come back in about half an hour.”

He followed me to our tent, so I sent him to the showers to shave his legs and anywhere else that he could reach.

He came back wrapped in a towel.

I had prepared certain clothes and accessories.

I brought out my old silicone breast forms, and placed them onto his chest. I then touched up the edges with some foundation, and you could hardly see the join.

I gave him a pair of the knickers I first wore, with the extra strong elastic front that held everything flat.

“Okay, Samantha, stick this on, and tuck your bits between your legs. Your balls should slide up into the cavity above.”

He did, and showed me a very feminine result. I handed him a bra, and helped adjust it.

Then I gave him a low cut top, and a pair of tights. He had fun putting them on, so I had to help. He put on the denim skirt and zipped it up. I pulled it so the zip was at the back.

“Sit down here Samantha, I will just do your face.”

He sat on the chair, and I applied make up for the first time. I didn’t go crazy, some foundation over the spots, a little eye shadow, mascara, lip gloss, and made the ‘girl’s’ cheeks a little flushed. I then shaped and painted ‘her’ fingernails.

“What size feet have you got?”

“Sevens.”

I gave ‘her’ a pair of my strappy sandals with high heels.

I then brushed out ‘her’ hair, and clipped on a pair of daisy clip-on earrings that I had bought on that first stop.

Samantha actually looked very convincing, but ‘her’ whole attitude was still that of the depressed teenager. Despite being very pretty, with the most gorgeous eyes, but ‘she’ needed to be convinced.

I took ‘her’ hand.

“Come on, let’s go see if the washing is finished.” I said, and we left the tent.

The campsite was deserted, but as we passed the shop, which was shut, Samantha saw her reflection for the first time.

She stopped and stared, a smile slowly materialised, until it became a delightful grin. Her shoulders lifted, her head went up, and her whole bearing altered completely.

“That isn’t me.”

“Yes, it is. Say hi to Samantha,” I said.

“But she’s a girl, a pretty girl.”

“Welcome to the other reality, Samantha.”

She turned to me, and I saw tears forming.

“Hey, don’t cry, your make up will run,” I said, and she laughed.
 
 
We walked slowly to the laundry, and waited for the washing to finish. We took it out and Samantha put it in the dryer.

“Come on, let’s grab a coffee or something,” I said.

She followed me to the little café down the street, and we sat at one of the street tables.

“Hallo ladies. What I can get you?” said the waiter, in broken English.

I looked at my companion.

“Samantha, what would you like?”

“A coke would be nice,” she said, very shyly.

“Un Coca cola, et un cafe au lait, s’il vous plait,” I said.

“Oui, Mam’selles.”

“He thinks I’m a girl,” she whispered, with an enormous grin.

“Of course, that’s because you are.”

I was rewarded with the most beautiful smile.

We sat in the sun, and drank our drinks. Jenny came past and waved. She pulled up a chair and I ordered another coffee for her.

“That was a funny little shop, very friendly, but bugger all produce,” she said.

“Jenny, this is Samantha, she is on the site too, she was doing her washing, and so she joined me for a drink.”

“Hi Samantha. Where are you from?” Jenny said, glancing at her briefly.

“Guildford,” she replied.

“Oh. I don’t know Guildford. Oh, Donna, you must see what I found for Mark,” she said, and rooted about in her bag and came out with an egg cosy.

“I thought he could use it as a willy warmer,” she said, and dissolved into hysterical laughter. Samantha laughed too, and relaxed.
 
 
We finished our drinks, and walked up to the site again. Jenny noticed that Samantha was wearing my clothes, and twigged what I was doing, and almost got the giggles.

I went with Samantha to the laundry, and the dryer was finished. She took out the washing, and took it to their very plush tent.

She came back out, and had a real sparkle in her eyes.

“Do you like being Samantha?” I asked.

“Oh yes, it’s brilliant. I can’t thank you enough. I think I’m a different person.”

“Tell me?”

“It’s so hard to explain. I just feel sort of free. It’s as if I’ve finally been allowed to be who I really am. It probably sounds silly, but I feel I’ve come home,” she said.

“I know exactly. A few months ago, I was in a similar predicament.”

“You?”

“Yes, me. As I told you, I thought I was a boy,” I said, and then told her my story.

“Gosh,” she said, eyes sparkling with hope.

“Samantha, you have problems. You probably aren’t like me. This will never go away for you, and you need to be honest to yourself and those who love you. There’s no easy road, believe me. You need to see your own doctor and explain that you believe that you are a transsexual. You need to confide in your parents, and ask for their love and support.

“If they reject you, then you contact the help groups on the Internet. You’re too young to do anything legally, so you must wait, but with parental help and good medical advice, you can get through this. There are two options, to lose the desire to be Samantha, or become Samantha, and forget Sam. You may grow out of wanting to be Samantha, or you may not. But the latter is a long and very hard road. You will never be able to hide it forever, and if you are lucky enough to have a partner who understands, it places an intolerable burden on them. Society is not kind to people who are different, but there are thousands like you, so be brave, be strong, and above all, be honest, particularly to yourself.”

“I think I know all that. I’ve spent ages on the Internet reading about people like me.”

“Tell me, Samantha, do you get off on dressing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for example, do you get a hard on?”

She blushed, very prettily.

“Sometimes. I get a really warm excited feeling deep inside, but it stays where I put it, for most of the time. I thought I might be gay, but when I’m Sam I don’t like to look at boys.”

“What about now?” I asked as three young lads passed us, who leered and grinned at us both.

Her eyes lingered on one of them, and she blushed again. I laughed

“Okay, you don’t need to answer,” I said, and she gave me a shy smile.
 
 
We went for a walk around the lake, and I was amazed at the bubbly girl who walked alongside me. She was chatty and full of laughter, and ever so naturally feminine. I took her back to the tent, and Jenny and I helped her to become Sam again. She lost all the sparkle, and her shoulders drooped, it almost broke my heart.

A dejected Sam sat on the grass outside our tent, with tears never far away. We chatted and joked with him for a while, and then Steve and Mark returned.

“Hi guys,” I said, and Steve tried to put a wet slimy fish down my cleavage. I screamed and threw a log at him. He dropped the fish, and gave me a hug, but he smelled of fish.

Mark flopped down next to Jenny.

“How did you get on?” she asked.

“Five little fish.”

“What are they?” she asked.

“Fish,” said Steve, helpfully.

“I can see that, but what type of fish?”

“Fresh water ones,” said Mark, and even Sam laughed.

“Hey guys, this is Sam. We met doing the laundry. His parents are up some mountain,” I said, and introduced the guys to Sam.

“Hi Sam.” the guys said, and Steve frowned and looked at me with a questioning expression.

“Sam is very like I used to be,” I explained, and the guys nodded.

“Hey Sam, tough break,” said Mark, genuinely concerned for him.

“Yeah, but look at Donna. There’s the reason to stay as you are,” Steve said with a grin.

Sam laughed, and I tried to tickle Steve, but he ended up kissing me. He always cheated like that.

“So Sam, what do you want to do?” Jenny asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. It’s all so new and strange.”

“When I first dressed as a girl, I felt so wonderful, that nothing else mattered,” I said.

“I felt like that this afternoon,” Sam admitted.

“Hey, kid. Don’t let it get you down. Take one day at a time, and make the best of what you have. You never know it may be a phase, and you may grow out of it,” said Mark, the expert.

I smiled, and Sam looked at me. We both knew that this was not something he would ever grow out of. Had he just got his kicks from it, maybe, but this went deeper. He became a whole person as Samantha, and he needed professional help, not a bunch of students guessing.

We watched as the boys collected some wood and made a fire. Then the fish were gutted and cooked over the fire. We all had a fish, eating the pale flesh in our fingers, and washing our hands in the lake. It was fun, and Sam began to smile again.
 
 
At about seven thirty, a pleasant couple came over to us. They had to be Sam’s parents. His mum was an attractive lady of about forty, and his Dad was a good-looking man a little older than his wife.

“Sam?”

“Hi Mum, Dad.”

We were all lying on the grass, and I was still in my bikini top and short skirt.

“Um, these are my friends. I met Donna doing the washing, so I spent the day with them. They caught some fish, so we’ve just had some,” he stammered.

“Great. I am so glad you have met some young people,” his father said.

I stood up.

“Hello, I’m Donna Armitage, this is Jenny Hills, Steve Granger, my boyfriend, and Mark, Jenny’s bit of stuff,” I said, and we shook hands.

“I’m Michael and this is Caroline, my wife,” he said.

I smiled, as she looked like a Caroline.

“I hope Sam hasn’t been a bore,” Caroline said.

I looked at her. With an attitude like that, how the hell was the poor kid ever going to get free.

“No, Sam and I have had a great time,” I said, “haven’t we Sam?”

“Yes,” he said, and blushed.

“Well, we’d better get cleaned up. Do you want to come out for supper with us, Sam, or have you had enough?” his father asked.

“Where are you going?”

“We thought we’d try that chic little restaurant in town.”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“We will be back at about ten or eleven.”

“Okay,” he said.

They left and we watched them drive out about twenty minutes later.

“Hey Sam?” said Steve.

“Yeah?”

“Any chance of us meeting Samantha?”

Sam looked at me. I smiled.

“If you like,” I said.

He smiled and nodded.
 

*          *          *
 
Half an hour later, the guys met Samantha, and Steve grinned at me.

“Déjá  vu, eh?”

“Yeah. Poor kid.”

“She’s a cracker.”

“Then tell her, she needs to know.”

Steve did, and she almost burst into tears, or laughter, or both.

The five of us went to the café and had beer and pizzas. There was a young waiter, who latched onto the fact that Samantha was unattached, and he flirted with her from the outset. I watched as she responded brilliantly, and gave as good as she got. She was an absolute natural, and the guys could not believe the difference in her.
 
 
All good things came to an end, and Samantha had to change back to Sam. We watched him slouch back to his tent when his parents returned. I had given him my mobile number and our address in Portsmouth, if he ever needed to chat, or to get away.

“Poor little sod,” said Steve, with some feeling.

“Life just doesn’t seem fair,” said Jenny.

“No one ever said it was fair. You have to fight to get what you want,” I said.

“Have you got what you want?” asked Jenny.

“Yes. Yes Jen, I bloody well have. Thanks to you guys,” I said, with a grin.

“So have I,” said Steve, and embraced me with those big arms of his.
 

*          *          *
 
We were up early the next morning, to another lovely day, and decided to move on. We were taking the tent down, when Sam appeared.

“You’re leaving,” he said, displaying keen powers of observation.

“Yes, time to move on,” I said, as I packed Steve’s rucksack.

He sat on the grass next to me.

“How are you, today?” I asked.

“I’m okay. I’m still buzzing from yesterday. I almost told my mum last night, but chickened out. I thought she’d blame you and come and make a scene.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you need to tell her in your own time.”

“I think she knows,” he said.

“Oh, how?”

“I think she knows I dress in her clothes.”

“Why, has she caught you?”

“No, but she made a comment about her clothes being moved. That’s why I only use dirty clothes in the wash basket.”

“Would you like me to be there, and help you tell her?”

“You’d do that for me?” he asked, very surprised.

“If it would help.”

He thought for a moment.

“No. Thanks, but I think this is something I need to do myself.”

“I’m at the end of the phone if you need help.”

“Thanks. How did your parents take it?”

“My Mum hugged me, and was great. My Dad thought only of how it would embarrass him, and I doubt I’ll ever see him again. He and my mum are splitting up.”

“Shit. That’s bad. Is that because of what you did?”

“No, it’s because he is an unfaithful bastard who has been shagging someone else for years. But it was the final straw.”

“Oh,” he said, and smiled.

I did up the rucksack and started on my own.

“You are so beautiful. I wish I was like you,” he said.

I stopped what I was doing and my heart went out to him.

“Remember Samantha from last night. She was just as beautiful, so hold onto that. Look Sam. I was very lucky, for by some strange quirk of fate, I’m now a girl. A few months ago I thought I was a boy, but I dressed for a laugh and so we could get into a couples only event. I ended up falling for Steve, and I didn’t even have girl’s bits. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“I thought I was gay, but deep down I wanted to be a girl. Over the next few days, it just happened, and I can’t explain it. The chances of this happening to you are not great, so you need to get things straight in your head. Set your goal, and go for it, regardless of the difficulties. You have to know it is right for you. You have to be sure, as most teenagers go through a phase of gender confusion, and a good percentage come out fine. So don’t be too quick to think you are definitely one thing or another. Be open to your feelings and try to be the best person you can with what you have.

“When we left Portsmouth, if you had told me I would look like this, I would have laughed at you, as I never in a million years ever thought about being a girl. But now, only a few weeks later, I could never go back to being a boy.”
 
 
I finished packing, and Jenny came over to see how I was doing.

“Hi Sam,” she said.

“Hello Jenny.”

“Here, I want you to keep these,” she said, and handed him a box.

It was the breast forms. He looked at them in wonder.

“I don’t know if I should,” he said, but he was obviously keen.

“Look, Sam, you do with them what you will. If you never use them, then they will remind you of something that could have been. If you use them, then I hope you find some happiness,” Jenny said.

“Thanks,” he said, and when he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. I gave him a hug.

“Hey, ring me, any time, if you feel down and want a chat, just call. Okay?” I said.

“Thanks, I will.”

We loaded the stuff on the bikes and put on our jackets. I gave Sam a kiss, and put on my helmet. He waved as we took off, looking rather lost and forlorn.
 

*          *          *
 
We drove up through the mountains, and down into northeast France. The guys wanted to see some battlefields and museums, so Jenny and I wandered through the old towns. We crossed into Belgium, and went to Ipres, to see the Menine Gate, with the thousands of allied names thereon, of all those who fell with no identified graves.

It was very depressing, and a reminder of the stupidity of mankind. Jenny and I overdosed on chocolate as a personal protest against silly men.
 
 
We rode back into France, and spent a day at the Asterix Theme park on the A1 north of Paris. It was brilliant, as I had been an Asterix fan as a kid, and had all the books, many in French. It was early September now, so most of the English schools were back, which explained why the crowds were less.

We were having a beer and a rest between rides when my mobile rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Donna, it’s Sam.”

“Hey Sam, what’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m back at school, but I thought you might like to know that you have a song in the top twenty.”

“What?”

“I saw you on TV last night. You were on a video, singing a song that’s in the top twenty, number eighteen, I think. You never said you were a singer.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, honest. I heard the announcer say, - “and new in at number eighteen is this great little song by Donna A.” I looked up, as I knew someone called Donna, and there you were, it was a really professional video, you were on a motorbike and then in a nightclub. It was cool and you looked great.”

“Number eighteen?”

“I think so, yeah. It was really good song, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it. I loved the lyrics, so I went out and bought it this afternoon. You have an album out as well, so I bought that too.”

“Bloody hell. I knew it was being released this month, but I never dreamed it would get into the charts.”

“Yeah, and I have your autograph.”

“How?”

“You wrote your name and phone number in my diary, so everyone at school is so jealous.”

“That’s really cool.”

“I know. The words mean so much to me, knowing you as I do,” he said.

“Aw, thanks Sam, that’s sweet.

“I mean it. You guys were so brilliant.”

“So, has Samantha been out since you got back?”

“A couple of times. I actually spoke to my mum, and we went to see my doctor. I’m seeing a specialist psychologist every week.”

“Is that good?”

“I think so. They’re very kind, and told me exactly what you did. I said I knew someone who knew about these things and would help me.”

“And?”

“They’re planning to put me on testosterone blockers, so I don’t develop any more, until they get a clear picture of the way to go.”

“Is that permanent?”

“No. It just sort of stops me getting more masculine, so if I have to go for SRS, it’s easier.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be Samantha, more than anything else.”

“How’s school?”

“GCSE year, so I have to try to keep focussed.”

“When will you know?”

“With parental consent, and a full psychological evaluation, they would do it at sixteen, but only if everyone agrees.”

“How old are you now?”

“I’ll be sixteen next March.”

“Okay. Get your exams out the way, and keep me informed. I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Thanks. You have already helped.”

“Not really, I probably did more harm than good.”

“No. I told the psychologist about what happened, and she said it was a good thing. I didn’t tell you that I was thinking about killing myself that day we met, so you saved my life.”

I was stunned into silence.

“I’m sorry, you should have told me.”

“Why? You gave me Samantha, so you gave me a reason to live.”

“How are your folks?”

“Mum has been great. Dad, well he took it personally at first, and then has come round. I told him that it wasn’t anything he’d done, and he spent ages talking with one of the gender disorder specialists. He’s been great since, and I realise that I’m lucky to have them.”

“I’m so pleased for you.”

“If you hadn’t told me to be honest with them, I don’t think I would ever have told them.”

“So, do you still dress in your Mum’s stuff?”

“No, she took me out two days ago, as Samantha, and we bought some clothes. I think she was surprised.”

“What about?”

“Samantha surprised her, she didn’t expect her to be so gregarious and happy. I think Samantha was prettier than she had imagined too.”

“Go for it girl,” I said, and smiled.

“Thanks, and good luck with the song, I hope you get to number one.”

“So do I.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Sam?” Jenny asked.

I nodded.

“And guess what?”

“What?”

“I’ve got into the top twenty with, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it.”

“No?”

“Yeah, it’s number eighteen, on its first week.”

The others stared at me in disbelief. I rang my mother.

“Hi Mummy, it’s me.”

“Hello darling. I understand congratulations are in order. You have a pop song out.”

“That’s why I called. How did you know?”

“Well do you remember Mrs Dowling? She and I have coffee every Tuesday, and I told her all about your little problem, and that you had made a film and done some songs. Well, her son is sixteen; do you remember Roger? No? Well he saw you on the telly, and told his mum. She then called me, so I switched it on, and there you were. I must say, that short skirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?”

I laughed, but dreaded the release of the movie.

“Mum, that’s nothing, if you see the film, I take all my clothes off in that.”

“Oh, how very draughty,” she said.

“We will be back in the UK next week. Have you sold the house yet?”

“There are all kinds of legal problems. Your father is kicking up a real fuss. He has discovered that all his assets have gone, so is furious. My legal and financial chaps are super, and say he is, what was the word? Oh yes, stuffed.”

“So? Where is he?”

“He’s in the country somewhere. I took out an injunction on him and he turned up the other day. I simply handed him a copy and called the police. I haven’t seen him since, but I keep getting nasty letters from his solicitor.”

“So what happens now?”

“I’ve been told to sit tight and he will have to negotiate. He has nothing to bargain with now.”

“This is so sad.”

“Yes, but I am so proud of you. You did look so lovely on the telly, I cried.”

“Oh Mum, you didn’t?”

“You’ve such a lovely voice too. Everyone I have spoken to sends their regards, no one is very surprised that you turned out to be a girl. It’s so funny, but it never dawned on me.”

“Nor me mum, nor me.”

“Call me when you get back. And come home for a bit.”

“I will, bye.”

“Bye.”
 
 
I switched off the phone, and tried to get my head round what was happening in my life. I watched the roller coaster, and thought my life was rather like that. I almost wanted to stop and get off so I could have some time to think.

“Number eighteen, babe, that’s really wicked,” said Steve.

“Yeah,” I agreed and grinned.

I then called my bank and gave my pin number and password. I asked for my current account balance, and then nearly fainted. I asked the man to repeat it, but it hadn’t changed. I asked where it had come from, so he told me. I hung up in a daze.

“What’s the matter Donna?” asked Mark.

“I have over  £100,000 in my account,” I said.

They stared at me.

“What?”

“My filming fee, the record sales and advance royalties. More is arriving every hour.”

“Bloody hell!” said Steve and Mark, in unison.

“That’s the motto of this whole holiday,” said Jenny with a grin.

“I could almost buy my own house. And we could still share, and stuff the landlord,” I said, and they all laughed, but then they saw I was serious.

“Keep your cash, save it for a rainy day,” said Mark.

At that moment, a passing shower caused a small amount of rain to fall. It was over in minutes, but I looked at Mark, who shrugged.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
“Donna, phone call for you,” my mother shouted from down stairs.

I picked up my extension, and it was Steve.

“Hi gorgeous,” I said.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Okay, you?”

“Missing you.”

“You only saw me the day before yesterday, and I’ll be back at uni next week.”

“I’m still very lonely at night.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, smiling at the memories.

“So, what you been up to?”

“I went to the doctor yesterday, and he gave me a full examination. He’s told me what I already knew, that I am perfectly normal. He wrote a formal certificate for the registration people, so I have sent off everything to be corrected and changed. I went to the solicitor this morning and have now sorted out my name. I am legally Donna Jane Armitage.”

“Great. How’s your Mum?”

“She’s fabulous. She should have kicked out the old man years ago. She has taken on a whole new lease of life.”

“How are you?”

“Fine. Just coming to terms with the changes. I think other people have a greater problem than I do. I met my Dad’s brother, Uncle Tom, this morning, and he couldn’t even look at me. Now there’s not a great deal of love lost between him and Dad, but he didn’t know what to say. When he did look at me, he stared at my tits.”

Steve laughed.

“I can understand that, they are superlative breasts.”

“Dirty bugger!” I said, “On the whole people have been pretty good. I popped into the shops to get a card this morning, and spent an hour signing copies of my CD. Some kid saw me and asked if I was Donna A, and when I said I was, there was a rush. The manager brought out a chair and small table, so they sold out of my CDs. It was brilliant.”

“So, been invited onto Top of the Pops yet?”

“My agent called yesterday, and if I get into the top ten, I might be on next week.”

“Your agent? Gosh, how posh.”

“Your dad arranged it. He said I should have one, so he jacked it up for me.”

“I’m chuffed. My girlfriend in the top twenty for two weeks.”

“So I suppose you keep telling everyone?”

“Of course, and no one believes me. My mother said I live in a fantasy world.”

“How long have you parents been split up?”

“Eight years. Mum married again, he’s a pilot for British Airways. He’s a really nice bloke, but a bit dull. And Gerrards Cross is hardly the most exciting place in the world.”

“Gerrards Cross? Is that where you are now?” I asked.

“Yeah. Why.

“I live at Wallingford, that’s not far away. Would you mind if I came to visit you?”

“Mind? Don’t be daft; you know I want you with me.”

“I went out and bought a car,” I said.

“Oh yes, what?”

“A Mazda MX5.”

“Bloody hell, what is the insurance like on that?”

“Don’t ask. Particularly when they asked for my occupation. Apparently pop singers, movie actresses and students are all the worst risks going.”

“Silly tart.”

“Who are you calling a tart?”

“You, you daft bint. You should get your mum to insure it, and be a named driver.”

“Won’t wash. If the car isn’t hers, or even if it is, and she isn’t the main user, then the insurers aren’t obliged to pay out if it is being used away from the address. I looked into it.”

“Oh.”

“Still, I can afford it.”

“Are you taking it down to Portsmouth?”

“Yes, I’ve several appointments to promote the songs and movie, so I need to be independent.”

“Oh,” he said, and he sounded as if he thought that I was drifting away from him.

“Steve, has your Dad been in touch?”

“No, why?”

“Just wondered. Oh, by the way, as from yesterday, I’m now on the pill.”

“How soon can you get here?” he asked, and I giggled.

“It takes a month to start being effective, so it’s Mr Rubber until then.”

“I can live with that. How soon?”

“Mum is having some people over for dinner, to show me off, I think. So how about tomorrow?”

“What time?”

“Ten?”

“Great, do you know how to get here?”

“No, but I was hoping you would tell me.”

He gave me directions, so I copied them down. Then we rang off. I loved hearing his voice, and twiddled his ring just to remind me what he meant to me. I smiled, as I was looking forward to tomorrow already. I thought back to the end of our trip.

We had arrived back in Portsmouth two weeks before the semester was due to start, so after washing our clothes, we all went our separate ways to visit our respective families.

Steve wanted the two of us to move into one room, and I told him that was silly, so we have a room to sleep and fuck in, and a room in which I can write our essays. He went off to see his mother, and I set off for Oxfordshire to see mine.

We had to get to know each other all over again. I found that I didn’t really know her in the first place, so it was fun doing so now. Once she accepted that I really was a girl, we managed to form a good mother-daughter relationship, and although there were many areas in which we agreed to differ, we actually got on very well.

I read a nasty letter from my father, in which he referred to me as…that deviant child of yours.… and made all kinds of silly threats. It was promptly handed over to Mum’s solicitors, so actually helped her case no end.

Dinner that evening was with some old friends of the family, to whom mother had yet to explain my circumstances. The problem was she didn’t tell me she hadn’t told them.

I dressed in a very chic black dress that I had bought in Monte Carlo, with shoes to match, and the diamond earrings that the film crew had given me. When the doorbell rang, I answered it and was faced with three couples I had known since I had been about three. There were the Brewsters, the McLeans and the Carters.

“Hello everyone. Mother is in the kitchen, so please come in, and I’ll be barmaid,” I said.

There were some polite noises and lots of confused frowns. It dawned on me that mother had forgotten to explain.

“Ah. Sorry, I suppose you are all wondering who I am. Well, I’m Donna, but you probably remember me as Don. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it seems that I had a gender disorder, and developed as a girl rather later than I should have.”

Mr Brewster, whose teenage daughter Kerry, I found out later, had bought my album and had decided to model her current look on mine, gasped in disbelief.

“Good God. You are Donna A.”

“Yup, guilty. I’m pleased at least one of you is up with current music trends,” I said.

This started a buzz of conversation, so I was able to pour some drinks, and the ice was suitably broken. As they chatted, I went to the kitchen to find my mother prodding a brace of pheasant.

“Mum, you didn’t tell them, did you?”

“Tell them what, darling?”

“About me?”

“You, what about you?”

“Mother. About Don and Donna, you know?”

“Oh my God, I had completely forgotten.”

I stood there, as I had been a little angry, but as my mother had unwittingly paid me the biggest compliment I had ever had, I just wept with joy, and she cuddled me.

“This girl thing, it’s a real pain,” I said, as I repaired my mascara.

“What girl thing?”

“Bursting into tears at the drop of a hat. I never had it before.”

“It’s your hormones, dear.”

“Bloody hormones, they get the blame for everything,” I said, and she laughed.

“Turn the potatoes, there’s a love. And I’ll speak to our guests.”

She went off, and I did as I was asked, and then followed.

Mother was in full flow,

“……….and after she finished the movie, she recorded the album, which included the video that the studio put together. I understand that she has been offered a part in the sequel, in which she has the lead role. Her fiancé’s father is a film producer, and says she is a real natural.”

I went bright red, looking daggers at my mother, who smiled sweetly at me. She then walked off to make the gravy, and I had to attempt polite conversation with six victims of mother-shock. I took them through, and sat in the chair that Dad would have taken at the head of the table.

All-in-all, it was a pleasant dinner, once everyone got over their shock. It must be quite difficult to know what to say to someone who you knew as a rather drab little boy, but who is now a very attractive young lady.

I flirted with all the men outrageously, to be rewarded by more than one ‘accidental’ grope whilst passing. When they finally left, I sank onto the sofa, and breathed a sigh of relief.

My mother stood looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“I find it so hard to remember what Don was like.”

“He was a sad little mixed-up boy, who is so happy now, it’s indescribable,” I said.

“I kept looking at you as you spoke to our old friends, and you were just so, I don’t know, alive. You have this wonderful sparkle, I can’t explain.”

“Old Brewster is a groper,” I said.

“What, William?”

“Yeah, he grabbed my bum twice. If Helen hadn’t been here, he’d have offered to go further.”

“Don’t be smutty. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Mother. I’m not a child. I know a randy male when one grabs my bum. He was staring at my breasts all through the soup.”

“Well you did show them off a bit.”

“I had to bend over the bowl, otherwise I’d have dribbled hot soup down my cleavage.”

“Hmm, you do dress to shock.”

“No, I don’t. I dress to show everyone what I’ve got. If anyone is shocked that is their problem, not mine. Besides this dress cost over  £1,000.”

“Well bring your expensive dress and your breasts into the kitchen, I want to wash up before we go to bed.”
 

*          *          *
 
I was up early the next morning, and was listening to the radio as I dried my hair.

I was out of the top twenty. It had been good while it lasted, and in a way, I was pleased, as I didn’t want the publicity at this moment in time. It showed me I had the ability, but I just wanted to get back to normal.

The phone rang, and I answered it.

“Have you heard,” said Steve.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. It was good while it lasted.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You are still coming to see me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say anything else?”

“Yes.”

“Come on Donna, say something else.”

“Bloody hell!”

He laughed.

“Ten?”

“Yes.” I said, and he hung up, still laughing.

No sooner had I put the phone down, and it went again.

“Donna, its Jen.”

“Hi Jen.”

“I’m sorry Donna, I thought you’d go up further?”

“Never mind, as I said to Steve, it was good while it lasted.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it.”

“I still don’t. Not really. I think I’m dreaming, and I’ll wake up as a boy in Portsmouth.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Okay, I’m a girl, and life is out of this world.”

“Good on you.”

“Where are you?”

“Home, in Taunton. Why?”

“I don’t know. I miss you guys. Is Mark with you?”

“No, he’s in Norwich.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah, where’s Steve?”

“Buckinghamshire.”

“That’s not far from you.”

“I know, I’m going there now.”

“Lucky tart.”

“I know.”

“Have one for me.”

“Okay, when are you going back?”

“I don’t know, probably a couple of days early, just to get sorted.”

“Hey, I’ll try to get there for Thursday, how will that be?”

“Sounds good, so you won’t be on TV now, will you?”

“No, not now.”

“I went and bought your album.”

“Silly tart, I’d have given you one.”

“I thought it would help get you to number one.”

“Thanks, you should have bought fifty.”

“See you Thursday.”

“Okay, bye.”
 

*          *          *
 
I put on a skirt, pink top and my leather jacket. For old times sakes, I pulled on my long boots. I went down and grabbed a quick breakfast.

The phone went again.

It was my agent, Penny.

“Hi Pen.”

“Donna, I’m sorry sweetie.”

“It’s okay, I heard this morning, and my mates have already called. Shame, isn’t it?”

“Your Album is still doing well. It’s moved up to number thirty four.”

“So?”

“Album sales often mean that you could get another single in the near future. Wait for the film publicity to get going. Certainly more royalties come from the albums?”

“So, I can get back to normal now?”

“Sort of, I have had tentative enquiries from Jonathon Ross.”

“Really?”

“I think you’ll be in demand when the film blurb starts hitting the press.”

I grabbed breakfast and told my mother that Steve was staying the night.

“I’ll make the spare bed up,” she said.

“Mum,” I said, and rolled my eyes.

“This is my house, there are standards,” she said.

I kissed her and dashed out to the car. It was drizzling, so I kept the top up as I drove off to Gerrards Cross.
 
 
I arrived at five to ten, pulling into the drive of a very plush house in the rich end of the town. There was a BMW and a Range Rover on the drive. I parked up next to the Range Rover, and Steve was at my door before I switched off the engine.

After we came up for some air, he looked at the car.

“Cool car,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Not as cool as you.”

“Soppy sod.”

“I’ve missed you, Donna.”

“Kiss me again, then.”

There we were, standing snogging in the rain.

“We’re getting wet,” I observed.

“Don’t care.”

“Come on, let’s go in.”

“Okay, by the way, my Mum still doesn’t believe that I’m engaged to a pop star.”

“She will.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Penny thinks I might get onto the Michael Parkinson show.”

“Really? Wicked.”

“Yeah, after the full press release comes out about the movie.”

“Double wicked.”

“Mum has made up the spare bed.”

“That’s a waste.”

“I know, but she wouldn’t have it.”

We were in the hall, so he took my jacket from me and hung it up.

“Bloody hell, since when did you ever hang anything up?” I said.

“Since I threatened to beat him to death if he didn’t,” said a female voice.

I turned and saw a very attractive tall woman, obviously his mother, come out from the kitchen.

“Hello, you must be Donna. Steve has told me so much about you, but I’m afraid I didn’t believe half of it. He does so love to wind me up.”

“Hi. I know. He’s such a pain at times. I wonder what made me agree to marry him.”

Her eyebrows shot up at this.

“So, that is true? I thought that was another tale.”

I showed her the ring, and she shook her head.

“I am so sorry, Stephen, I didn’t realise,” she said, and he grinned.

“So what are you two going to do?”

“I don’t mind. Something calm, I thought we’d try to write the lyrics to another song I’ve written,” I said, as offhand as I could.

She stared at me.

Stephen took out my CD and held it in front of her.

“Look, that is Donna A, and this is Donna Armitage, my girlfriend. They are one and the same.”

She looked at my photograph on the CD case, and then at me.

“Oh my word. You are! I thought he was teasing. So, the movie is real too?”

“Yup,” I said, with a grin.

“I need a coffee. Would you like one?”

We followed her into the kitchen and she put the kettle on.

“I’m a little confused, so help me out here. Stephen told me he was going to France with his friends Don, and Mark and Jenny, who shared the house.

“Then he tells me that you, his girlfriend, Donna, managed to get a good part in a movie, and my ex, David, thought the sun shone out of your proverbial. So you are all staying in Monaco for six weeks as this happens. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So, then you and the other couple return, so what happened to Don, he seems to have got lost somewhere?”

I grinned, and Steve went red.

“Put like that, I don’t wonder you got confused. It’s like this. I was Don, but I should have been Donna, as I suffered from a strange gender disorder, which only cleared up just after we arrived in France. As you see, I am a perfectly normal girl, but I lived the first nineteen years under the mistaken belief that I was a boy. My hormones kicked in late, and I developed properly, and I am now as you see, not too bad considering.”

“You poor child, how simply horrid for you.”

“It wasn’t that bad, I knew nothing different, but now it’s great.”

“Well, you seem to have made up for lost time.”

I smiled, and Steve went red again.

She poured the coffee, and we went through to the drawing room. It was a huge house, and very tastefully decorated, but a little starchy and tidy for my taste. I couldn’t imagine Steve living in this kind of surroundings for long, as he was such a slob, he’d go bonkers.

When we had finished the coffee, I took him for a spin in my car. The rain had stopped, so I put the top down.

“Not much room in it,” he observed.

“If you want to fuck me, then we go to bed. I’m not getting a hernia just for a quick bonk in a silly car,” I said.

“Spoilsport,” he replied, laughing. “It really is good to have you back.”

“I know.”

“I’m so terrified of losing you.”

“I know.”

“You have the world at your feet, so I seem to be so insignificant.”

I pulled over into a lay-by. I turned and looked him right in the eyes.

“Listen ,you silly sod, you asked me to marry you, and I agreed. Now I don’t know about you, but I happen to love you, and I want to grow old with you. So, forget what is happening to me, just remember that it all means absolutely nothing. You are whom I want to be with, you are the most important person in my life, and you are my chosen mate. So, stop getting so silly on me, be happy for me, as I will share as much of my life with you as you care to accept. If it all gets too much for you, then say so, but otherwise, put up or shut up.”

He grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry babe.”

“Steve, please don’t call me ‘babe’, it really irritates me. I have a name, and I’m sure you can come up with something more appealing than ‘babe’.”

“Sorry, my darling,” he said in the most upper-class voice imaginable.

I hit him, so he held my arms.

“Donna, believe me, I am sorry. I just don’t see what you see in me.”

“I see everything,” I said, and kissed him.

We went out to lunch at a local Thai Restaurant. It was very good and not expensive at all. There was a family at a table next to ours, and the boy, who was about twelve, kept looking round at me. He was having an argument with his younger sister. He was saying, “It is.” and she was saying, “It can’t be.”

Steve found it quite amusing, and I smiled.

“Have you any of those CDs?” he asked.

“There is a box in the car, why?”

He asked for the keys, and disappeared for a moment.

He brought a pair of CDs back.

“Sign one…You were right, it was. - Donna A. And the other one, “ He told you so. - Donna A. ”

I did as he asked, and he went over to the table.

He gave the first one to the boy, and the other one to his sister, leaving them gaping at us.

“You’re a big softy,” I said.

“It’ll help your sales, as they’ll tell their mates, and then more CDs will get bought.”

We finished our meal and paid the bill. As we were leaving, the father of the children came up to me.

“Thanks for that, you didn’t have to do it, you know?”

“It was a pleasure,” I said. “I do like helping win an argument.”

He smiled, and asked if I would give him my autograph. I signed a take away menu, and he grinned his thanks.
 
 
We went to see a movie that afternoon, and snogged in the back row of an almost deserted cinema. It was really strange, as the last movie I had gone to see had been in Portsmouth, and I had gone with Steve and a couple of mates. I smiled as I thought of their reactions if they could see us now.

We arrived back at Steve’s home in time for dinner, and his step-father had come home. He was very nice, but the exact opposite of his Dad, David. He was quiet and rather staid, so I could understand how his mother preferred his stability over the unpredictability of David.

As soon as dinner was over, Steve packed a small overnight bag and we set off for Wallingford. I was quite excited, as I longed to have him in my bed again.

We arrived at about eleven, and my mother wanted to go to bed. She went to great pains to show him his room, and even turned down his bed for him. She then hovered until we both went to our own rooms, and then went to her own room.

I was in his bed thirty seconds after her bedroom door shut.

We made love several times that night, and when the alarm went off at eight, I was tired, but immensely satisfied.

I got up and went to my room, to make it look as if my bed had been slept in. My mother passed and looked at me, in that all knowing way.

“I shouldn’t bother. I know damn well you spent the night with him.”

I smiled, and she shook her head.

“Mum.”

She came back.

“What?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. What are you two going to do today?”

“I thought we’d fiddle about with some lyrics for my new songs.”

“That sounds nice dear,” she said and wandered off.

I grinned. “Thanks Mum, you’re bloody brilliant.”

I slung on jeans and a tee shirt, and carried my guitar downstairs.

We had a lovely day. Mum adored Steve and he played up to her by flirting and paying her so many compliments. I had composed seven new songs, and together we made a rough draft of the lyrics for all but one.

The time sped past, and I so liked being with Steve. I’d missed him and we just seemed to belong together. Supper was quiet, and we watched a film. Mum yawned and announced she was tired.

“Well, I’m going to bed. Stephen, I’ve moved your things into Donna’s room. It’s a much bigger bed, so I suppose I’ll just have to get used to the fact that you’re a couple. Goodnight, dears,” she said, and kissed both of us.
 

*          *          *
 
The next week saw the four of us reunited back at Portsmouth, and on the day I was due to head back to uni, my new birth certificate plopped through the letterbox.

I already had my drivers licence, and now I was able to apply for my passport. So I posted the application forms off, and after giving my mum a hug, set off for my last year in education.

It was really great to be back in our grotty little house. I had such weird memories. I sat in my room, just reflecting on the mad few months that had changed my life beyond all recognition. Over the day, Jenny, Mark and Steve arrived.

“Some silly bastard has parked their flash sports car outside the house. I hope it gets nicked,” said Mark, as he tried to get his bike into the tiny front garden, where he usually kept it.

“Thanks a bunch. It’s my car,” I shouted down the stairs.

“Sorry Donna. How are you, girl?” he bellowed back.

“Good, you?”

“Yeah, pleased to be back though. Is lover boy back?”

“Not yet.”

Jenny came out of the kitchen.

“Will you two shut up? You sound like a couple of Italian mamas,” she said, and Mark grabbed her and dragged her giggling off to their room.

Steve arrived soon after, and we settled down to an hilarious dinner of bread, cheese, ham and eggs. Real student fare.

“So, Donna, what happens now?” asked Mark.

“What?” asked Steve.

“Look, no one knows about Donna, right?”

“Right, so?”

“Well, all the faculty and students think she is still a boy, right?”

“Right, go on?”

“Well, why don’t we get her to pretend to be a boy?”

“Why?” I asked.

“To see how long it takes for them to twig.”

“Why?” Jenny asked with a frown, looking at my now ample bosom.

“Why not? Officially, she’s a boy, and all the students and lecturers know her as a boy. It’s going to be odd if she turns up as a girl. I though it might be a laugh to have her disguised to see how long it takes.”

“I’m legally a girl now!” I said.

“With no make up and baggy clothes, no one will pay much attention to her. Besides, she will remain anonymous from the press who will be desperate to get publicity photos of the sexy Donna A.”

I had to admit, the thought of the press trying to get candid pictures of me every day, had been filling me with dread, so it seemed logical. Jenny and I went and tried to make me look like Don used to look. It was hard, not so much the lack of makeup and baggy clothes, as that was easy, but I was very feminine in everything I did, always walking with my shoulders back and head held up.

I had to practice walking around with round shoulders and head down. I came back down and Steve paled slightly as he took in the old me.

I had tied my hair back in the old ponytail and removed all my makeup. I had a baggy tee shirt over a scruffy pair of jeans. My nails were still looking rather effeminate, so to my horror, Jenny had filed them off to square ends.

I sat next to him and he kissed me on the cheek.

“I love you whatever you look like!” he said.

“That’s a good job,” I said, rather gloomily. I didn’t like this, but I knew what I was underneath my clothes.
 
 
They dragged me off to the pub, where I sat in the corner, feeling very self-conscious, as Steve went off to get the drinks in. I had never been a great pub-goer as a boy, and now I was a girl pretending to be a boy, I felt very vulnerable. Mark and Jenny got caught up with a crowd they knew.

Ronnie Allport, one of the guys in my Business Studies class saw me. He came and sat down next to me, pint of beer in hand.

“Hi Don, we don’t see you in here often. Did you have a good break?”

“Yeah, pretty good. You?” I asked, making my voice as gruff as I could. It hurt!

“Yeah, I went to the States for six weeks, it was awesome.”

“Oh, where were you?”

“California. Five of us went and stayed in a beach house that belongs to Matt Harris’s father, you know Matt?”

“Is he that tall guy who lived with the Allport twins?”

“Yeah. Anyway, we had a fantastic time, surfing most days, windsurfing, and just bumming it on the beach. Beach parties every night, and the babes. I tell you, Don, you’d have loved the babes!”

I looked at him, suspecting he was taking the piss.

He wasn’t, he was blissfully ignorant of me and my unique situation.

“So, did you pull?” I said, trying to sound macho and interested.

“You might say that. I met a fantastic girl called Shelly, and we really hit it off. I was so tempted to stay, I tell you, what a life!”

Steve returned with a glass in each hand. His own, a pint of lager and a white wine for me. He saw Ronnie and frowned.

He passed me the wine without a word and sat on the stool, as close to me as he could get.

“Thanks Steve. Do you know Ronnie, he’s in my business class?”

“Hi Ronnie,” he said.

“Hey Steve. You’re the guy Don lives with, yeah?”

Steve nodded, taking a drink from his glass. I smiled and sipped mine. He was jealous.

“So, Don, what did you get up to?”

“We went to France. I needed to practice my French.”

“Cool, any sexy Mam’selles?”

“One,” said Steve, staring at me.

I blushed, looking down.

“Oh, none for you, Don?”

“I found someone very special,” I replied, looking at Steve.

“Is she French? They can be so sexy, but I’m not sure I could cope with hairy armpits,” Ronnie said.

I looked at him and realised that I couldn’t keep this up for long. He was a real moron and I just wanted to leave with my lover.

Then, to my dismay, Gordon Allen came over with his girlfriend Sally something. I knew Gordon from class and Sally by sight only. Neither were what I’d call close friends, but they were nice enough.

“Have you heard that a student from here is supposed to be the latest sexy sensation in the singing world?” Sally asked.

“Oh, who’s that then?” asked Ronnie.

“I saw Donna A on TV a few weeks back, and I’m sure the blurb went on about her being a student at Portsmouth.”

“Is that the one with the amazing legs on the motorcycle?”

“There was a bit of her on the bike, yes.”

“I would!” said Ronnie, with a smirk.

I caught Steve’s eyes.

“I did!” he said, put his drink down, and looked at me. “We’d better go, are you coming?”

I finished my drink, and said goodbye to the small group, who stared at Steve in open amazement.

We left the pub and as soon as we were outside, he took my hand.

“Sorry, my love, that must have been fucking hard for you.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I never realised just how stupid blokes can be in some situations.”

“Let’s go home. I want my girl to look like a girl again.”

I smiled and we walked home hand in hand.
 

*          *          *
 
My first lecture on Monday morning, I slid in and took my usual place. No one said anything to me, apart from the usual vague greetings.

Mr Gateshead swished in with his usual panache, and distributed the assignments from the last semester.

“Abbott — pass; Adams — pass, just; Allen — pass, good; Armitage — distinction, excellent Don, well done; Campion — Fail, see me later; …” and so on.

The lecture went ahead and I took notes as usual. I almost forgot that France had happened, but then spied some nail varnish we had missed on my little finger. Also, my engagement ring sparkled at me. I turned it round just so no one could see it. I refused to take it off.

At the end of the lecture, I dropped in at the union to grab a drink. I sat at a table to wait for the others, watching everyone else hustling and bustling. A couple of girls sat at the table next to me. I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“Did you see that Donna A on the telly a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, it’s so rare to see a female performer who plays and performs her own material. She is so sexy; I’d love a figure like hers.”

“I know, and those boots. They were amazing, it was a cool video.”

“Yeah, I wonder if she actually rode the bike, and I swear she was only wearing a leather jacket and those boots. She was gorgeous, my dad started dribbling.”

“I know, I read somewhere that she’s supposed to be here, studying French at Portsmouth.”

“Really? Have you seen her yet?”

“No, but there was an article about her. She’s in a movie with Craig Howard, I think it’s due to be released this autumn. Anyway, it said she was seen by chance singing in a café in Monte Carlo by the producer and they gave her a screen test. She went on to get engaged to the producer’s son, or had already met him, and was already engaged or something like that.”

“She must be a fresher, we would have seen someone as gorgeous as her before this.”

“No, she is supposed to be in her third year.”

“I’ve never seen her. I think I would remember.”

I smiled and looked away. A shadow fell over me.

“Hi, is this seat taken?”

I looked up and saw a young lad in usual tee shirt and jeans uniform. He wasn’t familiar, and I assumed he was new.

“Not yet, but I have some mates coming.”

“If they come I’ll move. I’m knackered and I need to sit for a second. I’m Stuart Robson.”

“I’m Donn,” I said, catching myself in time.

“Hi Don, this is my first year, you?”

“Third.”

“What subject?”

“French and business studies.”

“Hey, doesn’t that Donna A, the singer, do French here?”

“So I understand,” I said, sighing wearily.

“Woah, there’s a babe and a half.”

“So I understand.”

“So you haven’t seen her?”

“Not as such, no,” I said.

“Do you like it here?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s good if you have good friends.”

“It’s all new. I’m in halls, and it’s all very strange at the moment.”

“I was in halls in my first year. It takes time to make friends. I rent a house with three friends now.”

“Cool, is it nice?”

“It’s okay. Better than halls.”

Jenny arrived, and sat next to me.

“Hi, how did your first lecture go?” she asked me.

“Good, I got a distinction for my assignment. You?”

“Not a distinction, but I passed.”

“Have you seen Steve yet?” I asked, and she smiled.

“No, he didn’t go in until eleven, so he won’t be out for a bit.”

“Oh Jenny, this is Stuart, he’s a fresher. Stuart, this is Jenny, we share the house together,” I said.

“Hi, oh, I see, are you, you know, sort of, an item?”

Jenny and I looked at each other, and hooted with laughter.

“No, Jenny has Mark, and I have a partner,” I said.

At that moment, Steve arrived.

“Hi peeps,” he said.

I looked up at him, and the devil in me made me smile.

“Hi sweetie,” I said. He looked at me, but then he bent over and kissed me.

I thought Stuart’s eyes were going to pop out of his sockets. He suddenly remembered he had to be somewhere else, and disappeared rapidly.

Steve sat in the now vacant seat, shaking his head, but smiling.

“You’re a nasty little minx, when you want to be,” he said.

“Hmm, I don’t care. I’m a girl, Steve, and I want everyone to know it!”

“Young Stuart thinks we’re a couple of gays, you should have seen his face!”
 

*          *          *
 
We kept the charade up for the first few days, but as more and more people saw Steve and I in intimate clinches, the tongues began to wag. So much so, that Steve was summoned to his tutor after someone complained that he was seen with another student in what was described as an unnatural situation.

Also, my second song, Left Behind, had entered the charts, and although my first was down to number sixty, Left Behind was now up to number sixteen. Penny called me and wanted to do a publicity shoot of me in Portsmouth, so things were coming to a head.

I decided that it was time to end the game, and planned to go with Steve to see his tutor.

I dressed a la Donna A, with my  £1000 dress, stockings and high heel shoes. Jenny and I spent ages on my make up, and I let my hair down. As my nails were short, Jenny helped me put on some false ones. It felt great!

Steve and I walked arm-in-arm along to his tutor’s rooms. It was a busy time of day, so students streamed out of the Guildhall. Heads turned as I was recognised, and I could hear the murmurings getting louder as we made our way through the throng.

We went up the steps, and I saw Stuart in a group of freshers. He stood with his back to me, speaking on a mobile phone. His friends recognised me immediately, and started tugging at his clothes, but he was oblivious.

“Hey, Stuart darling,” I said, loud enough for him to hear. He turned and gaped at me.

“Get your arse out the way, there’s a love,” I said, but he froze to the spot.

“You?” he said.

“Me. Remember my fiancé, Steve?”

He nodded, and Steve glared at him.

“I was hiding from the press, but now I don’t need to. But some silly sod complained because they saw me and Steve having a cuddle. Can you believe that someone honestly thought I was a bloke?” I said, and he stared at my cleavage and gulped.

His friends eventually managed to pull him out of the way, and we moved on through. I imagined the leg pulling he’d get over that one.

“You sat at the same table as Donna A, and you thought she was a bloke? You wanker!”

Steve knocked on his Tutor’s door and we went in.

Professor Bill Timms was a real film fanatic, but the wrong type. He thought that all film was an art form and not a clever commercial product that purely existed to make rich people richer and to entertain the masses so they would forget the sad little lives that they were forced to lead.

He was clearly uncomfortable about the interview he was about to conduct, so my presence threw him completely.

“Ah, Stephen. Good, Ah, um, who is this?” he stammered.

“This is Donna Armitage, my fiancée and house mate. It was she that people have seen me with, and for some inexplicable reason, they object to our expressing our feelings to each other in public.”

He stared at us, at a loss for words. He scrabbled with a piece of paper, obviously reading the notes he had taken when the complaint was made.

“Donna?” he said.

“Yes.”

“So, who is this Don Armitage?”

“He doesn’t exist. He was a smoke screen to keep the press at bay. You see, I'm a successful singer and actress, but I want to keep a low profile while here, so we came up with the ruse to pretend to be someone very plain and ordinary. It worked, until some brain-dead, bigoted cretin took offence at what he, or she, thought he or she saw.”

“Singer?”

“I have one of my songs in the top twenty at the moment.”

“Top twenty?”

“The music charts.”

“Oh.”

“Professor Timms, can I know exactly what the nature of the complaint is?” asked Steve.

“Ah, yes, well, it seems that a number of students believed that, ah, you, ah, were openly undertaking, ah, intimate relationship with another student.”

“Yes, I kissed my fiancée.”

“They say, ah, that the other student was, um, a, male.”

“Excuse me, but is it a criminal offence to be a homosexual?” I asked.

“No, but, ah, um, the codes of conduct clearly prohibit such obvious activity.”

“Professor, do I look like a male to you?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then please believe me, Steve is not gay. He was kissing me, only I had no make up on and was wearing baggy trousers and an old sweater. Have you any idea how intrusive the press are?”

“I can guess.”

“So, do you really want the adverse publicity that the university will attract should you censure a male student for mild petting with his girlfriend, who just happens to be a rising celebrity?” I asked, and he had the grace to shake his head and look sheepish.

“You can relax, as I'm going to undertake a publicity shoot for my music and the forthcoming movie. You see, the fact I'm a business studies student has grabbed the press’s attention. Being a blonde, they can’t seem to accept that I'm not dumb. Silly, but they feel there is room for a good story.”

“Professor, may we know who the complainant was?” Steve asked.

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said. “But, you can consider this matter closed, and I apologise for any embarrassment that it has caused you. I shall speak to the person, and make the facts clear.”

“You may consider this matter closed, professor, but I do not! In this day and age, with equal rights being what they are, I am considering consulting my solicitor and seeing whether I should sue the university for causing us undue stress and being overly intrusive into our private lives. Even if we were two males, what we did wasn’t illegal, and therefore is an infringements on our basic human rights!” I said.

The professor stared at me with his mouth open.

“However, I accept your apology, and would ask that if this happens again, you consider dealing with the nosey little bigot appropriately!”

We left his office and went straight to the University admin office. I gave my name and asked to see the admissions secretary.

I sat and waited with Steve until a girl called me to go into the office.

A woman was standing with a file in her hand. As soon as I walked in, she frowned and looked down at the file.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid there seems to be some confusion. The only D. Armitage we have on file is a male.”

“That’ll be me then,” I said with a smile.

I explained the circumstances, showed her my birth certificate and a copy of the doctor’s formal letter. She had to change my details on all the databases and forms. Then I had a new picture taken for my student ID card and union card.

“This is very unusual,” she said, as I made her do some work for a change.

“I should hope it is unique. I should think I'm the first,” I said.

“Well, others have had sex changes, but legally they're male. I have never seen anyone who was female all the time,” she told me.

With an enormous sense of satisfaction and relief, I left the office. As we made our way across the main square, I was aware that I was now completely free of my past. It was a wonderful feeling, and I hugged Steve, who looked surprised. Pleased, but surprised.

“What is that for?” he asked.

“I'm finally me.”

“You’ve always been you. But now you're all Donna, and there's nothing left of Don,” he said.

“You miss him a little, don’t you?”

“In a way. You were always so quiet and unassuming, Donna is bouncy and very much the extrovert.”

“If I was still Don, do you think we would still be lovers?”

“Once I met Donna, I knew I loved you! Had you not changed, and had to lead a double life, I don’t know, but possibly.”

“Is it Don or Donna you love, really?”

He stared into my eyes.

“I love the person in my arms, who happens to call herself Donna. If she were Don, and still in my arms, then I should love him too.”

“Does that make us gay then, and the Professor thought?”

“I don’t really care. This isn’t a gender thing — it’s a person thing. I thought you were a girl, and fell in love with the girl I thought you were. When I found you were a boy, I just changed the way I looked at you. But then, when Donna first appeared, it all came back, and that first night, when you, when you….Shit, Donna you blew my mind when you did what you did.”

“I know, it got me too. So, no regrets then?”

“None!”
 

*          *          *
 
We walked slowly back to our little house. I was recognised by quite a few people on the way. Jenny was waiting for us when we rolled in.

“Where have you guys been?” she asked.

Steve explained.

“Donna, Penny phoned, several times. Can you ring her back?”

I went to my ‘office’, the room that had been my bedroom in the old days, and rang my agent.

“Hi Pen, you wanted me?”

“Donna, thanks love, yes. The studio is bringing out the film on the first of November in the States, so they want a big build-up. They want you to attend the premier in New York.”

“Wow, really?”

“That’s not all. They want you available to do the round of US chat shows, and to be able to sing some of the songs from the movie.”

“Go on.”

“Well, is there any chance that you could fly out next week for the first of these?”

“Penny, this is mid Semester, I have work, and so has Steve.”

“I know, Honey, but this is business. It really is important.”

---

 
To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
I looked out of the aircraft window at the famous New York skyline. It was brilliant. I felt very sad as I missed the Twin Towers that had been here on my last visit a few years ago.

I had never travelled first class before, so it felt very decadent. Steve was still playing one of the games when the console switched off. Here we were, flying over one of the best landmarks in the world and my boyfriend was playing games.

I had put the phone down on Penny in somewhat of a quandary. Should I go, should I stay? What was the impact on my career by doing either? In the end, I had gone to see my business studies tutor, Mr Gateshead.

He still shook his head in wonder at the transformation I had experienced. He was another one whose eyes kept dipping to my chest.

“Well, Donna, you're one of the few straight A students in the year. I think that you could quite happily miss a few weeks, as long as you do the reading and collect the lecture notes off my web page. Your assignments have been consistently excellent, so you are not due another one until just before the Christmas break.

“As your trip is business related, I'm sure that you may find the time to complete a paper on the media industry and some of the crucial factors that you can identify.”

I smiled.

“Thanks, Mr Gateshead. I just needed you to tell me that.”

“Donna, I am a bit curious?”

“Yes?”

“When were you first aware that things weren’t quite right?”

“Ages ago, but I just had to make do with what I had.”

“Well, Don was a good student, but you are so different, I find it hard to believe.”

“You mean I’m not a good student?” I asked, with a smile.

“No, no, not at all. You're still a good student, but you seem to have a very much more outgoing personality now.”

“Thanks, it's because I'm now who I should be,” I said, and left feeling ten feet tall.

My French tutor had similar advice, as she was more than happy with my progress. She gave me several French novels and told me to write a critique on my favourite. She was actually thrilled that I was playing a French girl in the movie, and was dying to see my performance.

Steve, however, was a different problem. His grades were not brilliant, and with one retake already on the cards, his tutor was unlikely to be as enthusiastic about letting him go.

“Go without me,” he said, miserably.

“Not an option,” I said, and he smiled.

“How then?”

“Why don’t you explain that you’ll write a paper on the whole movie scene, on all aspects of the pre-release hype, the publicity campaigns, the Premier and Star machine. Just a sort of diary with intelligent commentary?”

He stared at me.

“Huh?”

I smiled.

“Let's both of us go and see Professor Timms. Hopefully, he's still embarrassed about the last time, he may just fall for my patter,” I said.

He was and he did.
 

*          *          *
 
Here we were on approach for JFK Airport at New York.

Penny had told me that I should expect a little press interest on my arrival and that David would be there to meet us. So I dressed up. I had a dark skirt, it was tight and knee length, but had a slit up the back so I could walk. I wore a cream blouse and a dark jacket that matched the skirt. I spent the time that the plane taxied to the pier to repair my make up, and was happy that I didn’t look too much of a mess. My mother had given me a lovely string of pearls, so I was satisfied that I wouldn’t disgrace myself.

As soon as the doors opened, one of the BA stewards approached me.

“Miss Armitage, I've been asked to tell you that a special facilities manager will escort you and your partner through the immigration and customs channels to the VIP press room. I understand that you will be met there by representatives of the studio.”

We were whisked on a little buggy and our passports checked and stamped in a small private room. The studio had clout.

Our bags were collected by a porter, cleared through US customs, and taken directly to the waiting limousine. Steve and I were taken to a room that had a small raised platform, with six chairs behind a table, and about fifty chairs facing them, in stacked tiers.

Nothing could have prepared me for the mass explosion of flash bulbs as we walked through the doors, David was standing talking to some other men, and he turned as we entered. There were about forty photographers and as many reporters in the room, I suddenly felt very nervous indeed.

David came over and gave me a big kiss and a hug.

“Just keep smiling and keep your answers short,” he whispered to me.

He then hugged his son, who looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

I was seated in the centre of the group of chairs on the platform. Steve sat next to me on my right and David was on my left.

David raised his hand and some hush fell.

“Thank you ladies and gents. Miss Armitage has, as you see, just got off the plane after a long flight, so I would ask that you keep your questions short and to a minimum. She will be available for the press at the Waldorf Astoria tomorrow from nine in the morning, should you want a personal interview,” he said.

The questions started, and they were easy, for the most part. What did I think of New York? What did I think of my co-star, Craig? Was there any truth in the rumour that we had been lovers? Was I really a student? Did I plan to sing much while in New York? And the one that stunned me completely: - Was I pleased to have a US number one?”

That rendered me completely speechless, so I gaped at them like a goldfish.

“Didn’t you know?” one asked.

“No, I didn’t, but I’m thrilled,” I said, and looked at David, who grinned conspiratorially. I had no idea.

Steve was asked what it was like to be engaged to a rising movie star, and he just grinned and replied, “Donna is just Donna. She’s just great. I love her to bits.”

I was asked a few more questions about my songs and the movie, and then David called a halt. I posed for the cameras for five minutes, and signed a few autographs. Peace descended, so we were taken to the limo that was just outside the doors.

I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You were simply marvellous, darling,” said David.

“Huh,” I snorted, it had been a real ordeal.

“You handled it like the true professional that you are.”

“Oh yes, and what’s this about a US number one?”

“Ah, my little surprise for you. It got there yesterday. We tried to release it with the right level of publicity just in time for the Premier.”

“You manipulated the market?”

“It’s business, plain and simple. You shouldn’t complain; have you checked your bank account recently?”

“No, why?”

“I suggest you do, and if you haven’t already got one, get a financial adviser.”

We arrived at the Waldorf Astoria, where we were shown a suite of rooms that was just out of this world. The view over Central Park and New York was just breathtaking.

Steve jumped on the enormous bed, with a transparent grin on his face.

“Hey this is as good as Monte Carlo.”

“Why have we got three bedrooms? There’s just the two of us,” I asked, and he shrugged.
 

*          *          *
 
The days sped past, I went from TV studio to TV studio, and from radio show to radio show. I sang live; I chatted; I answered questions from chat show hosts and from the public on phone-in shows. Steve came with me to every event, and without his support I don’t think I should have managed.

I had yet to see the movie. But on each show I saw different clips, so I was intrigued to see the whole thing. If I was intrigued, I hoped that the public would be as well.

Finally, the day of the Premier arrived, and I bought a long black evening dress especially for it. I spent all day having my hair done, manicures and a facial, and Steve went and bought a smart tux.

We rolled up with David, in the limo, and against a barrage of flash bulbs made our way to the movie theatre entrance. I stopped and chatted with some of the crowd who had braved the wet November evening to come and see us. I felt very humble and a real fraud.

I wanted to scream, “I’m not really special. I’m just an ordinary girl who wants to live her life in peace, and it is all a mistake.”

Instead, I signed damp pieces of paper, and shook hands with complete strangers under the watchful and nervous eyes of lots of New York cops.

There was a press call inside and I posed with Steve, and then with Craig. I met his girlfriend, and she was a quiet girl called Anne-Marie, She was pretty, but seemed completely overwhelmed by the limelight.

We sat in very comfortable seats, and I watched the movie for the very first time.

It was brilliant. I had no idea that it would have turned out as well. But the girl, Monique, wasn’t me. She was someone completely different! Her whole manner was alien to me, as her voice was deep and husky, while her movements were elegantly fluid and yet slightly sultry. She oozed sex appeal and seemed just so foreign.

The final sex scene was very realistic and exceptionally steamy. I refused to look at Craig, and it was very odd watching myself, knowing that we were actually screwing. It certainly looked convincing, and I found myself becoming aroused just by watching. So did Steve, as his hand started to slide down my knickers.

“Not now!” I said, and the hand withdrew.
 

*          *          *
 
The film ended, to a surprising round of applause. David gestured for me to stand, so I did so, feeling very embarrassed. Craig stood and he nodded to me, with a secret smile on his face. I smiled back and looked away.

We had a party afterwards, which ended in a nightclub. I was persuaded to take to the stage and sing three or four numbers from the movie, and the only one that I had written for the next one, so far. David was over the moon, as this was in the papers the next day. The song was entitled, Why me? I wrote it from the heart, as everything that had happened to both me and Monique was pure chance.

The movie itself received mixed critical acclaim, the worst saying it was the usual weak plot, enhanced by gratuitous sex and violence and computer generated special effects.

The best said that it was a real edge of the seat experience, with excellent plot, characters and realistic dialogue.

The acting was by and large acceptable, said most, but several drew attention to the superb British newcomer, Donna Armitage. One said, - The delightful Donna, whose sultry nightclub singer brought a new dimension of female strength to the screen. Another, - Her whole performance brought a refreshing breath of excitement to the female lead. Her acting was so believable, that she carried the film.

Steve said he would have to ask the hotel to widen the doors so I could get my head through.

I threw a pillow at him, but was sufficiently brought back down to earth.

We were invited to a special dinner by the studio, where plans for the next movie were released. I was invited to sing Why me? again. There was another press call, and the intended Movie was officially unveiled, and it was entitled, Fatal Flaw. David told everyone that he was enthusiastic about the script and plot, and that several other famous names were interested in the many parts on offer.

In reality, there was no script, no plot and only one person so far cast, me. However, the build-up was amazing.

Steve and I left the dinner, to be taken back to the hotel in the limo. I was beginning to yearn for the little house in Portsmouth.
 

*          *          *
 
We arrived back at the hotel well after midnight, and walked across the empty lobby. Steve pressed the call button on the elevator panel and we stood and waited.

Something made me turn around, as I sensed that I was being watched. I caught a fleeting glance of someone duck out of view behind a pillar. I frowned, and went to see who it was.

I stopped and stared.

“Dad?”

My father was dressed in a suit, but it was stained and wrinkled. His shoes were dirty and scuffed and there was a hole in his trousers over the right knee. He was unshaven and thin, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked dreadful.

“Hello Donna.” he said, in a weak and pathetic voice. He wouldn’t look at me.

Gone was the pompous, arrogant man, who was always immaculate. Gone was the self-assured egotist, who had been totally concerned with self. In his place was a complete wreck of a man, who was as low as anyone could get.

“Donna, are you okay, love?” said Steve, who had come to see what I was up to. He stared at the man who was once my father.

“It’s my Dad,” I said.

Steve looked at me.

“Him?” his voice full of surprise. This wreck of a man was nothing like the man about whom I’d spoken so often.

“Yup, him. He’s not the man I knew, I grant you, but I’m afraid it is him.”

“Do you want me to throw him out?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“No, just leave us for a sec, please, love?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll wait over there, give me a shout if you want me,” Steve said, and went to sit down where he could see me.

My father was looking at me. Tears were in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” I asked, feeling cold towards him. He’d been an ogre in my mind that I found that this shell of a man wasn’t the slightest bit frightening. I couldn’t feel sorry for him though.

“I came to say goodbye,” he said, unable to look into my eyes.

“Why, are you planning to chuck yourself of Brooklyn bridge?” I asked, not without a hint of sarcasm.

He looked up, a pained expression on his face, surprise and anguish very evident.

“Oh my God. You are!”

He looked away, crying now. I tried to be angry, but no longer had it in me. The hurt was still there. I stood and watched someone who had been a giant in my life, turn into a mouse.

“I saw your film,” he said.

“Oh?”

“You were brilliant.”

“Not bad for a deviant child,” I said, sarcastically.

He just seemed to crumple, sitting on the marble floor, his body wracked with sobs.

A stocky man in a Hotel blazer came over.

“Hotel security, Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”

“I’m not sure. Dad, are you bothering me?” I asked.

He looked at me through the tears of self-pity.

No, I don’t think he is, not yet anyway. Thanks though.”

“No Problem, Ma’am. If you need assistance, I’ll be on the desk.”

“Thank you.”

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t understand, I had no idea,” he said, between sobs. I found it hard to work out whether it was through self-pity or genuine remorse.

“You didn’t try very hard.”

He sat there. I noticed that his trousers were wet, as he’d even pissed himself. I could smell the urine mixed with liquor. He wasn’t that drunk anymore.

“So, where’s your other woman now?” I asked.

“Gone. Once the money dried up, she went.”

“Well, there’s a thing!” I said.

For the first time, he looked directly at me. I saw that his eyes were bloodshot.

“You’re a very strong woman,” he stated.

“Oh, well done, you noticed my gender!” I said, but immediately regretted the sarcasm.

He simply looked up at me in such a pathetic manner, my heart softened.

“Yeah, I wonder why?” I said, and he almost smiled.

“You’re also very beautiful.”

I said nothing.

“I was so proud of you tonight. I found myself telling everyone that you were my daughter. They all thought I was drunk. I wasn’t. I never was there for you, was I?”

“Nope. Except to criticise and moan at me, and to ridicule and belittle. I can honestly say, Dad, that I hated you. I’ve hated you for so long that I don’t ever think I loved you at all. Because when I looked for support, encouragement or love, I never got it from you. I got it all from Mum, and thanks to her, I am who I am today,” I said.

I was crying now, as all the hurt all the bitterness was now surfacing. I was finally able to confront the man who had made my life a misery for so long.

The wreck of a man sat in a damp heap, smelling of urine and cheap booze. There was little satisfaction in the exercise.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I realise now how much I do love you, and your mother,” he said.

“Words don’t work. Only actions do,” I said, and he looked at me.

“What?”

“Prove it. Prove you’re sorry. Prove you love us.”

“How?”

“Well for a start stop making a complete arse of yourself. Self-pity never helped anyone. Do you think by presenting yourself to me like this, I’d embrace you and say, ‘there there, poor Daddy, I forgive you? Let’s become a happy family again, and give you lots of money so you can become a selfish bastard again.’ Well, think again. I’m your daughter, I may not like it, but it’s true. I’m a hard nut, Dad, so I’ll not give in to you, or any attempt at emotional blackmail. You’re lying there because of what you’ve done to others. No other reason.

“Mum loved you so much, so that she was even ready to forget about all the women over the last twenty years.”

He looked up at me sharply.

“Oh, you never thought she knew, did you? Well, she did, and because she loved you, God knows why, but she did. She put up with you for so long, she deserves to be a saint.”

He looked down.

I stood over him, but I physically felt my emotion dissipate.

I knelt down and touched his arm. When I spoke, my voice had lost its hard edge.

“Dad. The ball is in your court. If you want to chuck yourself off a bridge, then that’s for you. But you owe it to the grandchildren you will never see to think about the kind of person who stoops so low. You may have fucked up your marriage, and any hope of a close relationship with your daughter. There’s always a chance that some things can be repaired. If you start to give instead of take and live for others, then who knows, I might even want to get to know you again. But when you smell this bad, think again.”

He looked up at me and met and held my gaze.

“My God, what a wonderful daughter I have,” he said, and almost smiled.

I couldn’t help it; I smiled, even though I tried not to.

“You are so beautiful when you smile. Did you know that?”

“So Steve says.”

“Steve? Is that your fiancé over there?”

“Yes. That’s Steve.”

“He’s a fine young man. He loves you.”

“I know, and I love him. That’s why we are getting married.”

He nodded, and a waft of stale pee hit my nostrils again.

“Dad, you really smell bad,” I said.

He smiled again, just. “I’ve not been at my best recently. I spent my last $10 on the movie, and I couldn’t even afford a hotdog.”

“I’m bloody glad that I didn’t have to sit next to you.”

He half smiled at me again.

“When did you last eat?”

He shrugged.

“Shit, Dad, you’re a mess!”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

I looked at him. I couldn’t leave him like this, I may have hated him, but this pathetic creature was not the monster I had hated so much.

I stood up and waved for Steve. He ran over.

“Help me get the sod to our suite,” I said.

To give Steve his due, he simply smiled and nodded, effortlessly lifting my father to his feet.

“What?” I said to him.

“Nothing,” he said with a smile.

“Come on, Steve, why the smile?”

“You’re too fucking nice,” he said, turning, half carrying and half dragging my dad to the elevator.

We took him to the second bathroom and put him in the bath. Steve then shooed me out.

“Look, I’ve experience with drunks on the rugby tour, just order him some food,” he said, so I went and called room service. I ordered a large steak sandwich and loads of French fries.

I heard the shower going, and Steve came out with all Dad’s clothes in a plastic bag.

“These are all ruined, so he’ll need clean stuff,” he said and I nodded.

Half an hour later, dressed in a white towelling robe, and smelling nice and clean, my father ate the first proper food he had eaten in a week.

“Slowly Dad. Otherwise you’ll puke,” I said, stealing a chip.

We put him to bed in a spare room, in which he fell asleep almost instantly, whimpering away like a child. We then went to bed ourselves and Steve held me for ages.

“Donna?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so lovely?”

I shrugged.

He kissed me, and we eventually dozed off in each other’s arms.
 

*          *          *
 
We awoke late, but found my father still asleep. We ordered breakfast in the room and, at eleven, I woke him up. He looked confused for some time, but eventually he managed to focus on me.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, and then frowned. I sat on his bed.

“How long have you been drinking?”

He shrugged.

“Two, three weeks, I don’t remember.”

“Well Dad, it stops now.”

He looked at me and frowned.

“Don’t frown at me, you sod. You came to me, and like it or not, you’re still my father. So, you do what you’re told for once in your life. Okay?”

He nodded.

“Now go and shower, there is a razor, but only if you don’t try anything silly. You won’t, will you?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll fucking castrate you if you do,” I said.

He smiled.

“Breakfast is on its way, and no booze. Right?”

He nodded.

“RIGHT?” I asked.

“Yes, no booze.”

“You even think about it, and I’ll throw you off the bridge myself,” I said, leaving him to it.
 

*          *          *
 
The breakfast arrived and he appeared, still haggard, but clean-shaven and looking much more presentable. I had a quiet word with the waiter, who removed all the contents of the mini-bar.

“Donna, my clothes?”

“In the bin,” I said, as I poured myself a coffee.

“Oh. I haven’t any more.”

“Good, then you will have to stay in for a while,” I said. Steve smiled and looked away.

“I’ll need something,” he said.

“Have you any money?”

“No.”

“Then you will have to earn it,” I said.

“How?”

“You’re the financial genius. I need a financial adviser. You have a choice, you either work for me, or you can go to the job centre.”

“You want to employ me?”

“Do you have a problem with having a female boss?”

“No, but..”

“But what?”

“I thought…”

“What?”

“You would employ me, after everything that has happened?” he said, complete bewilderment in his voice.

I stared at him.

“If I can’t trust my father, who the hell can I trust?” I said, and he dissolved into tears again.

The hotel arranged for a tailor to come to the room, so by lunchtime my father was dressed in a new suit and looked a different man.

“Donna, I can’t work for you, I’m completely unworthy,” he said.

“Bollocks. I intend for you to work your arse off. You owe me for the suit, the room and the food. So like it or not, you’ve already started,” I said, and he grinned.

“You’re very like me, you know?” he said.

I looked so hard at him that he reddened and looked away.

“Do not ever say that again,” I said. The hard edge was back. I could be a real bitch when I wanted to be.

“I’m sorry. But I never imagined you as such a strong person.”

“I’m strong because of what you did to me, not because of what you did for me. Never forget that.”

He gazed at me, looking so pathetic that I felt my anger subside.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, but it’s hard to imagine what you and you mother went through.”

“Don’t even try. One day we may talk about it, but not yet.”

I discussed my financial situation, and gave him some details, such as accounts and the like. I had a fair idea what was going on, but to be honest, it didn’t excite me in the slightest. So I told him to sort it out for me. He immediately got to work, so I left him to it.

David came bursting in, unannounced as usual. I explained the little saga, and he looked absolutely delighted, rubbing his hands with total glee. We were flying home on the following day, and he was making plans for the next movie already. We made a couple of dates for meetings about the music and my role. He kissed me soundly, hugged his son and shook dad’s hand before leaving us once more.

Steve and I spent the day relaxing, taking a ride round Central Park in a horse drawn buggy. We did a bit of shopping, but I was recognised and had to sign hundreds of autographs before escaping back to the hotel.

We went out for dinner, with my father and David to a restaurant, but several photographers were waiting for us when we left.

The story hit the papers the next morning.
 
 

Rising Movie Star’s unfaithful father saved by big-hearted daughter

Alcoholic Gerald Armitage (50), was allegedly on his way to kill himself when his daughter, the talented young English actress and singer Donna Armitage (20), took him in hand and gave him a reason to live again.      Gerald was divorced by Donna’s mother for being consistently unfaithful, and in the ruinous divorce settlement he found himself almost destitute. To make matters worse, the other woman, Maryland widow Elizabeth Hailey (42), also left him at the same time.      After drinking solidly for several weeks, and down to his last $10, the once successful Gerald saw his daughter’s debut performance in the recent hit movie Tapestry of Deceit, in which she plays sexy nightclub singer Monique Lasselles opposite Hollywood heart-throb Craig Howard.      Deciding to end his life, Gerald went to see his daughter to say goodbye. Losing his nerve at the last minute, he decided to hide instead. But she spotted him and confronted him. He collapsed in a drunken heap, full of remorse and self pity. Despite his filthy state, the she took him in, cleaned him up, fed and clothed him and took him on as her financial adviser.

She still resented what he had done to both her and her mother, but added, “He may have been an utter sod, but if you can’t trust your father, who can you trust?”      Her father was unavailable for comment, but Steve Granger, Donna’s fiancé said, “This man treated Donna very badly for many years, but she is such a lovely person, she has so much love that even he can see the light that shines from her. She is one in a million.”      Attractive Donna revealed that she is to star in a second movie as the singer Monique, which is due to begin filming in the summer. She is still studying at university, and will have her degree in business studies and French by that time. Movie producer David Granger said, “Donna is a stunningly beautiful woman, who has intelligence, humility, compassion and talent. She will be an enormous star.”      Donna has two songs in the US charts as Donna A at this time, which she sang in the movie, and has been praised by critics as the freshest breath to hit the movies in years.      Miss Armitage and her fiancé fly home to the UK today.

 
 
“Bloody hell,” I said, and showed Steve.

“What do you bet that was my father?” he said.

“Why?”

“Free publicity. They say in show business, that there is no such thing as bad publicity.”

“It makes Dad out to be a real bastard.”

“Wasn’t he?”

“Yes, but why should everyone know?”

“You’re in a different world now, my love. Your business is everyone’s business.”

“I don’t know if I want to stay in this world in that case.”
 

*          *          *
 
We were taken to the airport, and flew home. I already had several messages from Penny, so became aware that the merry-go-round was still going strong. No sooner had we arrived in the UK and the whole farce started again, leading up to the release of the movie in Britain.

Steve and I headed back to Portsmouth, where I bought a small flat for my father. It seems that I was an exceptionally wealthy young lady, and he was busy investing in property on my behalf.

My father and I sat down and worked out how my financial affairs were going to be run. Dad appeared to be a very changed man. Although I still was wary of him, he was obviously deeply affected by recent events. He refused to take a percentage, as we agreed a fixed salary for twelve months. He asked me to tell Mum that he was sorry.

“You’ll have to tell her yourself,” I said.

“I’m not allowed to, as she has an injunction out barring all communication with her.”

“Then you’ll have to wait. I’ll not be drawn into your squabbles. I’ve made my peace with you, so I’ll tell her that, but, you give me one reason to doubt you again, and you’ll lose me too,” I said. He smiled sadly.

I tried to get back into the swing of work again, but found it very hard. Steve managed an assignment with minimal help from me, and passed. It did his confidence no end of good.

I had to do a round of chat shows and events arranged by the studio, and Penny. I was being pressed to produce more songs, but I had no time to even think about that.

I reached the point when I wanted to stop the world and get off. Steve found me sitting in my old bedroom, in the dark, just staring at the wall.

“Hey Deedee. What’s up?”

Deedee was his new name for me. I objected to Babe, but this sort of stuck.

“Why can’t I just be me?”

He sat next to me, putting his arm around me.

“You are you. And you’re brilliant.”

“I don’t want to be brilliant. I just want to be left alone to live my life. France was fun and exciting, but now I just want to be an ordinary girl.”

He held me for a while, but I just wanted to cry. Everywhere I went, photographers were lurking and autograph hunters constantly ambushed me as I walked about the town. My picture was in most of the tabloids at least two or three times a week, so if I was seen talking to another boy, rumours about affairs were started.

I suspected that David Granger hired them, but it came to the point that I could never dress in really scruffy jeans and tee shirts, as I now had a title of “The Most Glamorous Student”.

It was a huge relief when we had the Premier of the Movie in the West End, so after that, life settled down slightly.

I took my mother to the Premier, with Steve, of course. Prince Charles attended and was utterly charming. He asked me about the next movie and my singing. The British critics were less enthusiastic about the movie, but my personal performance was generally well received and as the US box office was still doing very well, I had high hopes that it would do well here.

Record sales doubled after the movie went on general release, so my third single managed to get to number three.
 

*          *          *
 
Life settled down as the Christmas break approached, and I even managed to write a couple of songs and complete my required assignments for my course work. Steve was playing rugby for the university, so I would always try to watch the matches. It made me smile, as a boy, I had loathed the game with a passion, but now I became the team’s number one fan, going with them wherever they went. I was adopted as their mascot, and was always invited to the team baths after the matches. I declined, reluctantly.

Mum sold the house in Wallingford and bought a flat in Chelsea. I was quite sad in a way, as I had many fond memories of the house and my childhood. I had never been an unhappy child, as it was only as I entered my late teens that I began to experience conflicts in emotions and pulls on my life. My father had been indifferent to my thoughts, opinions and desires, preferring instead that I follow his lead and desires for my life. Without that present, there was almost a hole in my life. Not that I was complaining, as I more than made up for it with positive relationships with people that I chose to be with.

Steve was so good for me, as we would lie awake for hours in bed, just talking through things that I had never dared speak about, including some that I had buried deep in my subconscious and had not even thought about. It was a relief to me to learn that I was not the only one suffering disquiet over who and what I had been.

Steve had experience a dreadful conflict of emotions when he first discovered that I was not a girl, as he still had feelings towards me, despite knowing that I was Don. He admitted to feeling torn and his self-doubt caused him to party to excess. He would often get so far with a girl, and then he would start to believe that he was gay, and he could not go any further.

He now openly admitted that he was completely besotted with me, and that was the only reason we had been friends. We started out with absolutely nothing in common, so he would drink to drown his frustration. He admitted he would fantasise about me dressed as a girl, and that day in France, he admitted to have been so excited, he was shaking.

“So, do you still fancy lady-boys?” I teased.

“Nope. I’ve swung back, and as I told you, I’m a one lady man, and that lady is you,” he said, touching me where he knew I liked to be touched.

Our sex life had changed to something deeper and very caring. In fact, as I told Jenny, we didn’t have sex any more, we made love. Steve had straightened out as far as the drinking was concerned, and we would socialise together most of the time. The only exception was with his rugby mates, and only once did I banish him to the small bedroom because of his condition.

I had lunch every Monday with my father, when he would tell me how my finances were doing. To be honest, I wasn’t that bothered, but I felt it was important to build bridges in our relationship. He felt useful, so I pretended to be interested as he gave me printouts and balance sheets. Bottom line, he told me, that as long as I was careful, I need never work another day in my life. It was irrelevant to me, as I fully intended to live my life to the full, making full use of whatever gifts with which I had been blessed.

Steve invited me to spend Christmas with his mother and stepfather, but I had promised my mum that I would spend it with her. My father flew to America, to have a meeting with the studio’s financial people, and was well on the way to getting himself together again. He had not had a drink since that evening I had found him in the hotel, so I believed that he was beginning to become the father that I had never had.

He was supportive, without being crawly, as he would criticise, but positively and helpfully. He actually had a very good idea about how women should look, so I found his more mature experience a real asset when called to meetings with music producers and film people. He finally met with Penny, just before Christmas, and they got on so well, that she joined him on the trip to the USA.

Mum and I had the first Christmas together as mother and daughter. We had a quiet day, which was lovely. My life had been so hectic that the last thing I wanted was to be social.

I kept my mother informed of Dad’s activities, and although I told him I wouldn’t, I passed on the feelings he had expressed to me. Mum smiled and nodded sadly.

“Bit late for that now, isn’t it?” she said. I agreed.

Mum was only forty-two, but was still a very attractive woman. But she kept herself away and didn’t try to get out much. It made me realise the depth of hurt that he had caused her, so I vowed to help her close the page on the past and to look forward again.

I booked a surprise two weeks’ holiday to Trinidad for the pair of us, so on the 27^th December we flew out. Steve was really jealous, but knew that this was an important thing for me to do.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
The hotel was simply wonderful, as everything was included. I was relatively anonymous for the first couple of days, so we just lay in the sun and took life easy. On the third day, I was sitting at the bar on the beach, getting cool, when a middle-aged man approached me. I had left mother on a sun-lounger, as it had taken me two days to persuade her to wear a bikini, for she still had a super figure.

He was around fifty and was in good shape. My experience with American men so far had been that once they hit forty, they started to make their waist match their age.

However, unusually, this guy was a hunk, albeit a little old for me.

He was dressed in a pair of long swimming shorts and a hairy chest. He was tanned to a dark brown, almost as black as the locals. I noticed that his hairline was receding, but he cut his hair so short, that it wasn’t as apparent.

“Hi. I’m sorry to intrude, but you’re Donna Armitage, the actress, aren’t you?”

“Hi, yeah, guilty as charged,” I said, and he smiled.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the bar stool next to me.

I shrugged, as I was often hit-on and I had learned to fight off pick-ups every day.

He caught my expression and to my surprise he laughed.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re a stunningly beautiful woman, but I don’t flatter myself as being the same generation. Besides I’m aware that you’re engaged, so I’m not in the business of splitting up couples.”

I looked at him with fresh eyes, as he had succeeding in surprising me. Now I was curious.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with a smile.

“This is really rude of me, but I have to ask. Your companion, she is very like you, but she’s too old to be a sister, so I have to assume she’s your mom, right?”

“Right, so?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, and if I’m out of order, just tell me to get lost, but did I not read that your parents are divorced?”

“You did. So?”

“Would you object if I introduced myself to your mother?” he asked, and actually blushed.

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. He looked slightly offended, so I immediately apologised.

“Look, she’s over the age of consent and I’m not her chaperone. You don’t need my permission,” I said.

“I know but, well to be honest, I’m not very good with women,” he said.

I laughed again.

“You didn’t do so badly with me,” I pointed out.

He grinned. “Yeah, well you’re the same age as my daughter, and I don’t have a problem with your generation, it’s with my own I go stupid.”

Still laughing, I asked him about himself.

Bruce Carnell was forty-nine and a widower. His wife, Nancy, had died of cancer two years previously, leaving him with three children to finish bringing up. Kelly, his elder daughter was twenty, and had come with her father on this holiday. Neil was eighteen and Richard was sixteen. The boys were staying with his parents-in-law for the holidays, and Kelly was doing for him what I was doing for mum.

He offered me a drink, but I was half way through a lethal fruit cocktail, and I knew that anymore would cripple me.

At that moment, a tall girl with long auburn hair came over. Her bikini was as brief as the one I wore, and her figure was stunning too. She was very pretty. We stared at each other for a moment.

“Oh, my God, you’re Donna Armitage, the movie star,” she said.

I just smiled.

“Daddy, you’re awful. This is Donna Armitage, she was in that movie with Craig Howard,” she said, and then turned to me. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but I have no control over him.”

“He’s fine. He’s not bothering me, but I think he fancies my mother,” I said, nodding towards where my mother lay sunning herself, oblivious to the interest in her.

Kelly punched her father on the shoulder.

“Daddy, can’t you control yourself?” she said, and he smiled.

“I think it’s fun. After all, I brought my mother out here to see if I couldn’t find someone for her, and hey presto. Look what she attracted?” I asked.

They both laughed, but when we both tried to persuade him to approach her, he chickened out.

I looked at Kelly in exasperation.

“What can you do with them? She won’t go and meet new people, and he won’t even go over and speak to her?”

Kelly grinned and shrugged, persuading her father to buy her a cocktail like mine.

We sat together and schemed.

“I tell you what, why don’t you and your dad join us for dinner tonight?” I suggested. “I’ll say I met you, and that we thought it would be fun to sit together, as it would be friendlier as a foursome.”

She agreed and her father found that acceptable. He decided to go and see if he had smart enough clothes for dinner, leaving us girls together.

I immediately got on well with Kelly. Once she realised that I was a mere mortal, she relaxed and we chatted away like old friends. She was as frustrated with her father as I was with my mother. He had been so crushed by Nancy’s death, that he found the whole issue of trying to meet someone else very difficult.

I shared about my parents, and we some chuckles at their expense. It was sad that we found anything funny, really, but we had both been in the middle of everything, so we found it a release to share the details with each other. As we sat there, two blond and tanned American boys approached and tried to pick us up, but we both emphatically and rather aggressively turned them down, which caused us to burst out in giggles.

Kelly had a boyfriend who was a year older than she was. He was at a different college and a year ahead of her. He was at medical college, while she was studying Drama and Dance. We chatted about the movie industry. She shook her head at the way my career had started.

“So you’re still in college, as well as making movies and songs?”

“University, yes. It’s hard sometimes, particularly as everyone knows who I am. It’s better now, as things have died down a bit. But it was hard when the movie was being released. I only have until the summer, and I’ll be finished.”

“Then what?”

“I start shooting the next movie in June, and as I am supposed to be writing the music for it as well, that will be enough for a while.”

“Wow, so who is in it?”

“I don’t know, as the studio is still casting. They haven’t even got a script yet.”

“Crazy. Any chance of a bit part?” she said, joking.

“Why not? I’ve asked for my boyfriend to be given a part, so I can always ask.”

“Seriously? Wow. How cool is that?” she said.

I told her about France, and a little about my gender condition, about which she was amazed. She looked critically at my figure, shaking her head in wonder.

“How anyone could mistake you for a boy. They need their head examined.”

I smiled, telling her that I had developed rather since the condition cleared up.

I was aware then that my mother had overheated, and came into the bar to cool down.

“Hello dear, my, it’s so hot out there, I think I’m burning,” she said, so I ordered her a fruit juice.

I introduced Kelly to her and told her that we would be dining with her and her father that evening.

She hardly took it in, as she was more concerned with her drink.

“That’s nice dear,” she said, and drained the glass. Then she frowned, and looked at me. “What did you say, I was miles away?”

“Kelly is here with her father, and as we’re getting on so well, we thought it would be nice to join up for dinner tonight. Her mum died a couple of years ago, and he’s a sad old chap,” I said, as Kelly suppressed a snigger.

“Oh, poor man. Why, that sounds nice. But I don’t know if I have anything to wear,” she said.

Now, I knew my mother had at least two outfits for every day of the holiday, and our cases almost gave the poor porter a hernia.

Kelly and I went and played a game of tennis, while mother went to see if the local shops had anything nice.

“So, what was Craig like to work with?” she asked between shots.

“He was nice. We didn’t mix much, so I never got to know him that well.”

“You’re kidding? That sex scene near the end was very hot.”

I laughed.

“Just good acting,” I lied.

“Hey, any girl who can act like that deserves an Oscar. He’s gorgeous, I got hot just watching, weren’t you even a little turned on?”

I grinned.

“Maybe a little,” I admitted.

“I suppose with all the cameras and crew watching it is very different.”

“Yeah. You never forget they’re there. So any chance of real passion is kinda difficult,” I said, remembering something totally different.

“There was a rumour that you two had a thing going?”

“Bollocks, we both have our partners, and Steve was even with me at the location. He had some bit parts, so the rumours were just the usual press crap to try to make a story out of nothing,” I said.

“Had you really never acted before?”

“Only in school productions.”

“Cool. You did really well. Your French accent was brilliant. I was surprised that you’re the same age as me. You looked older in the movie.”

“Ah, that was the makeup girl. She was very good.”

We found it too hot for a lengthy game and retired to the bar to refresh ourselves.

“Daddy has had a real hard time. Mom was the centre of his universe, so it totally phased him when she died.”

“I imagine it hit you pretty hard too,” I said.

“Yeah. I guess. But somehow I was able to deal with it better. Daddy just took forever to accept it.”

“My Dad still can’t see how much damage he did,” I said.

“You need to keep talking, even through the bad times, that way there is always a chance of being on the same wavelength,” she said, and I nodded.

“What’s your boyfriend called?” I asked.

“Bradley. So he will be Bradley Somerset, MD,” she said, and giggled.

“So, do you fancy being Mrs Bradley Somerset?”

“I guess. But he hasn’t asked me. He says that he needs to focus on his studies.”

“What crap,” I said, and she laughed.

“I know, but he is very single minded.”

“I’m sorry, but he sounds a right pillock to me.”

She laughed again, while I had to explain the word pillock.

“We’ve being going out for nearly a year. Daddy offered to pay for him to come with us, but he decided he needed to study.”

“I’m sorry Kelly, but the more you talk about this guy, the more I don’t like him. Who would pass up an opportunity to come out here with a beautiful girl, just to study, oh pl-ease?”

“What about your guy, Steve?”

“I never asked him. I need time with my mother, and as Steve and I have been together since June, with hardly a break, I need to know that I can exist without him. I figured he needs some time with his family. If we do get married, then we’ll have a long time together, so it’s right for now.”

“Don’t you miss him?” she asked.

I grinned.

“Awfully,” I admitted.
 
 
We went back to our rooms and got ready for dinner. Mum was fussing about what to wear and in the end settled for a very nice black dress. I helped her with her hair, and make up, and when we had finished she looked radiant. It was as if we had taken five years off her.

“I feel so silly. I’m shaking, it’s like a first date,” she said.

“I suppose in a way it is. You were married too long,” I replied.

I wore a bright red sleeveless dress, with matching red shoes. She was only 5’4”, so at 5’ 6” I was several inches taller than her without heels, but with heels, I was about 5’9”.

“Oh dear, Donna, I keep forgetting just how strikingly beautiful you are,” she said, and I gave her a hug.

“Only because my mother is,” I said.

I had called into reception and asked for the four of us to be seated together, so when we arrived, I saw Kelly and her father already at the table.

Kelly wore a gold dress that accentuated her beautiful hair, making her look stunning. Her father was in a shirt and tie, with khaki trousers. He was the only one wearing a tie in the whole room.

He stood as we approached. Although I was aware that I looked pretty good, he had eyes for my mother alone. I noticed that quite a few male heads watched us cross the room, but I watched him as he helped Mum sit next to him. Kelly was grinning at me.

Kelly and I picked up our conversation from earlier, leaving the oldies to it. The food was superb, so we helped ourselves to the fantastic buffet. After the meal, we were invited to dance by the two guys we had earlier rebuffed, so feeling a little guilty we agreed and went onto the dance floor, leaving our parents alone.

My guy, a nineteen year old from Texas called Wayne, was full of himself, until his friend told him who I was. He suddenly came over all self conscious and bashful. But I could already hear the tales he would tell about this once he got back home.

When the music slowed, I excused myself and returned to the table, to find mother on the dance floor with Bruce. I smiled and sat down. Wayne was trying his luck with a sixteen-year old American girl who was flattered to have attracted a nice looking boy.

I noticed Kelly was getting quite close to her young man. I smiled. Brad, eat your heart out. I thought.
 

*          *          *
 
The holiday progressed, and mother and Bruce were hardly out of each other’s company. Kelly and I were delighted, and spent lots of time together, although her young man from the dance floor, Paul, was also quite in evidence for a lot of the time. Wayne had obviously an easier time with the younger girl, as he was noticeable for his absence. I was content, trying my hand at water skiing and scuba diving.

I managed to acquire a gorgeous golden all-over tan, so by the time we flew home, I was ready to get back into the swing of things again. Mother, on the other hand had really blossomed, and was already planning to fly to Arizona to visit Bruce. Kelly and I hugged each other and agreed that we made a good team.

I arrived back at Portsmouth to find Steve pining for me, so we went to bed for two days.
 

*          *          *
 
Work reared its ugly head, and I managed to get stuck in and made sure I was up to date with everything. I had to admit that my enthusiasm for business studies had lapsed slightly, but produced an assignment on the media industry, which seemed to impress my tutor. My father helped me with my work for the first time in my life, showing me the most effective way to deal with accounts and business projections.

He took the news of mother’s romance, if that is what it was, very well. I noticed that he and Penny were seeing more and more of each other, and accepted that he might have been a bastard, but he was still very charming and plausible. I tried warning Penny, but she simply smiled and said, “I know, dear, but at my age, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Steve’s assignments were more practically based, and he had to produce a short film with his small team. They wrote the script, worked out a storyboard and asked me to star in it. The story was about a French girl who came to Portsmouth, and was raped and mugged on the beach. She then hunts down the two young men and finds dreadful ways of exacting revenge, so they are left emasculated and crippled for the rest of their lives. It was a Hannie Calder type story, except took place in modern day Portsmouth and not the Wild West.

I managed to write a couple of songs for it, one in French, and although the film was only fifteen minutes long, they had to edit nearly two hours worth of footage. The rape scene itself was cut from ten minutes to four, and the two students playing the rapists enjoyed themselves a little too much.

When the Easter break arrived, my mother was in Arizona, and my father went to Scotland with Penny. So Steve and I flew to Paris, spending a lovely week sampling the finest restaurants we could find.

Life was turning out really good, but I knew the pressure would turn up as we moved towards the final part of the semester.
 
 
The first shock was that I had been nominated for an academy award for my first movie, as best actress. The second came when David told me that the proposed movie had secured at least two Hollywood greats, and the script was finished. I was given my copy, which was three times more than what I had to learn for the first film.

I had a long chat with David, and he promised that he would give Steve a shot at acting. I also mentioned Kelly, showing him some holiday snaps of her. He was instantly interested and asked me to arrange for her to come over and meet with the casting director. The movie, Fatal Friend, was to be set in several parts of Europe, including Romania and Albania. Much of the indoor sequences were to be shot in the studios at Pinewood, so they intended to do as much as possible before heading off to exotic locations.

The plot was very complex.

It was set one year on from the end of the last movie. I was left in Monaco, my life changed beyond recognition by my experiences, so I was no longer working as a singer. Courtesy of the CIA, in grateful recognition of the assistance I had rendered, they had paid me a substantial sum, so I had moved to a remote villa, where I could concentrate on my song writing.

Out of the blue, I get a note from an old boyfriend. He’s an American ex-serviceman in a little bit of trouble. He left the navy and was bumming round Europe doing odd jobs mainly with fast boats, when he gets involved with a group smuggling people from the Balkans to Western Europe, mainly to the UK. It pays exceptionally good money, so he is happy to turn a blind eye to the legal implications.

However, some of the group are also Muslims, and he finds out that they are smuggling a lot more than economic migrants, there are hard and fast terrorist fighters and military hardware as well. Knowing he is being watched, he manages to drop a note off at the nightclub, so one of the girls whom I see regularly passes it to me.

The note is brief, but he wants me to meet him at the castle at Roqubrune, which overlooks Monte Carlo.

I turn up, meet him, and he gives me a small packet, asking me to get it to the CIA. He is then shot and killed, I escape, so a chase ensues across the south of France.

It gets more involved, as different characters come and go. The CIA tries to help, but the opposition are determined to catch me. My task is to try to get the package to a contact but it proves very difficult. Eventually, with no means of communicating to the outside world, up in the mountains, I meet a young British guy (Steve?) who is driving a bus load of American kids on a camping holiday across Europe. The kids are all inner-city delinquents from New York, and all have difficulty stringing a sentence together in English, let alone in French.

They have narrowly managed to avoid being arrested in nearly all the towns they visited, having left a trail of wreckage and irate French people in their wake. They are now miles from anywhere, at a desolate campsite. There are three teachers on the bus, one of whom is a retired US special forces Sergeant and another is an ex-US Army helicopter pilot. The third is a idealistic and naíve young woman (Kelly?), who finds everything really romantic and exciting.

The teachers and kids witness me being cornered by two nasty men. Whilst trying to push my car off the road, I force their vehicle off the road, over a cliff. I crash my car and they help me from the wreckage. I am forced to explain my task, so they decide to join in, declaring war on the bad guys. The tables get turned on the twisty roads leading in the mountains.

It sounds great, but as the plot twists on, it gets more and more involved. Then we take the gang on in their own territory. The Fatal Friend relates to Monique’s ex-boyfriend whom she sees killed at the start. There is a fair amount of humour, when the inner city kids are placed in confrontational situations, they are meaner than the terrorists, so my character says, “I almost pity the enemy.”

The two grizzled veterans were to be played by two Hollywood giants, but David was reluctant to make any announcements until he had confirmation.

The script was actually very good and I found it very exciting. My part of the feisty and gutsy Monique was brilliant, and I had a huge role compared with the previous movie. I noticed that I had to ride a motorcycle, so Steve took me to an empty car park and gave me lots of lessons. I then bought my own Honda 125, eventually passing my tests. I wanted to buy a bike like his, but I found it rather heavy.

David still was willing to test his son for the role, but I still had to keep quiet to Steve, who was concentrating on his work. His little movie was a great success, and he retook his assignment that he had managed to fail in the second year - the one that I had not done for him.

He passed it and was on track, with only one to go.

Jenny was offered her part as one of the singers in the nightclub from the last movie (and a good friend of Monique), expanded and developed into a reasonable part. Mark was rather jealous, but he was set to start a job as soon as he left university.

I completed my assignments, even managing to write about six songs for the movie. I wanted to get some time in France for my degree, but realised that that was out of the question for the moment.

Kelly contacted me and we arranged for her to come and stay with us at Portsmouth, so we could go up together to Pinewood. I had to try to get Steve along as well, without alerting him to the possibility that he could be found a part in the movie.

By the end of May, I had settled down to get all my work under control, and submitted my last French assignment. I only had a couple of pieces of work to go before my finals, and then I was finished. It all seemed so much of an anti-climax somehow.

One evening, I was sitting in my little study, completing some work when my mobile rang, it was Sam, the young transsexual from France.

“Hi Sam, how are you?”

“Not bad, a lot has happened to me.”

“Oh yes, like what?”

“Well, I finish my GCSEs in a few weeks, and them I’m leaving my current school.”

“Oh, so what’s different?”

“I’ll be living as Samantha all the time then.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Yeah, my psychologist thinks that if I can make a year in transition, then I will be fine for SRS after that.”

“That soon? Have you started on hormones yet?”

“Yes, my body has changed a lot. I have reasonable breasts already.”

“Cool. How did that go down at school?”

“It’s been very hard, as I can never go as Samantha, so I wear baggy clothes all the time. The doctors wrote to the school, so I’ve been excused all physical activities. I’m going to a different school for A levels, where no one knows me.”

“So how about Samantha, how has she liked being hidden away?” I asked.

“It’s really tough, but I think some people have sort of guessed. I expected to be teased, but, apart from one or two idiots, actually I’ve been fine. Some of the girls have been great, and even one or two of the guys have been cool. I aim to tell everyone when I leave.”

“That’s brave of you.”

“Maybe, but that way, no one gets to hear of it in secret, or as a scandal.”

“I suppose you’re right. Has Samantha made any friends?”

“One guy. His name is Dean, and we met by accident at the tennis club. I was playing my mother, so I was dressed as Samantha. Anyway, we got chatting, and I found myself telling him the truth. I half expected him to be shocked and upset, but he was fine about it. I thought no more of it, but regretted telling him as he goes to my new sixth form college. He’s a year older than me, so I thought, oh shit, now everyone will know. Anyway, he calls me up, out of the blue, and asked me to go to a movie with him.”

“No? Did you go?”

“Yes, and Dean was fine. He even took me for a meal afterwards. I went as Samantha, and he was totally cool about it all.”

“That’s great. Have you spoken about why he’s so cool?”

“A little. He told me that he liked me as a girl before he knew the truth, but when he found out, he was curious. I pushed him and he admitted to having bisexual fantasies sometimes. I was a bit worried about this, but he says that it isn’t the sex thing, as he just likes me as a person. He told me he doesn’t see me as a boy, in any case.”

“Did he try anything?”

“Not really, he only kissed my cheek when we said goodnight.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I liked it. It’s as you said. I just want people to treat me as an ordinary girl.”

“Has he told anyone about you?”

“No. He’s been great, but their summer ball is coming up, and he’s pushing me for a date. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what? Go for it.”

“What if he tries anything?”

“If you set the ground rules at the start, you should have no problem.”

“Shit, Donna, I wish you were here.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you just seem to know everything. I wish I was like you.”

“Samantha, you are,” I said.

“They’ve been asked to think of a celebrity to ask to open the event, just for charity. I told him that I knew you, like a real fool. I was wondering, would you come?”

“When is it?”

“June 12th.”

I was due to start shooting the movie on the fifteenth.

“Sure, can Steve come too?”

“Wow. Yes, sure. Can you really come?”

“Yes, on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“We go as a party with you and your boyfriend.”

Samantha was silent for a moment.

“Sam?”

“Deal. That’s brilliant, I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“Hey, I have a few others in the movie business who might like to come, would they be welcome?”

“Are they all actors or actresses?”

“Sure,” I lied.

“Brilliant. Who?”

“I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Okay, thanks Donna, you really are wonderful.”

“Save it, I’ll call soon, bye.”

“Bye, and thanks.”

I told no one about the date, but just finished my assignments. Kelly arrived, looking totally glamorous and gorgeous. We changed back my old room to being a bedroom, and she fitted right in. Mark and Jenny thought she was great, and we all went out for a very alcoholic evening on her first night with us.

I was pleased to hear that her boyfriend, Bradley Somerset, was an ex-boyfriend, so she was now footloose and fancy free.

“So what happened?” I asked.

“We seemed to be drifting apart. I asked him to spend some time with me, and he told me he was too busy. I pushed, and it turns out he’s seeing this medical student called Elaine. He started being defensive about the relationship, so I simply told him it was all off. It seems that Elaine isn’t quite the right social group for his parents, but then I got a call from his father asking me to reconsider.

“Can you imagine that? Anyway, I said, no way, and that’s that! I wish I’d done it ages ago.”

“Have you heard from him since?”

“No. I’ve seen him at social gatherings, but he hasn’t even looked my way.”

“So, you are in the market, then?”

“Not really, I just want to enjoy life for a while.”

“Good for you, girl!”

After being kicked out of a pub at closing time, we found ourselves having an impromptu party at our house, with about thirty of our friends crammed into the small living room.

At three in the morning, I was trying to evict those who had decided to make our house a temporary home for the vertically challenged. I found Kelly in a rather intimate embrace of a rugby friend of Steve’s called James. I smiled, so much for wanting to stay foot-loose and fancy-free!

However, I was partially successful in clearing out the unwanted, so eventually Steve and I were able to go to bed and crashed out.

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To Be Continued...

Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned...

 
 

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2010 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
When we arose, near noon, James was feeding Kelly cornflakes while she was sitting on his knee. She smiled at me rather sheepishly, so I just grinned. The following day Steve, Jenny, Kelly and I went up to Pinewood Studio in Steve’s VW, to meet with David. He fell for Kelly immediately and arranged a screen test for her. Steve, Jenny and I watched, and she was actually very good.

“Right, Steve, can you help me out for a sec, boy?” David asked his son.

“Sure, Dad, what?”

“I want you to stand there, as we are having a little difficulty with the links from this camera. Just follow my directions and I want to see whether the zoom and focussing are working properly.”

David and the casting director, Mike Stone, stood behind the camera, giving Steve some simple directions and even a few lines to say. Steve, for his part, was totally relaxed, having no clue as to what was going on. In fact, he hammed it up for the benefit of the rest of us, making us laugh.

“Thanks Steve, that was great.” David said, and then he and Mike went into a huddle. The end result was both Kelly and Steve being offered two parts, Kelly as the American teacher on the bus trip, and Steve as the plucky and resourceful driver, and my love interest.

David explained what he had in mind to Jenny, and she was really chuffed to be included. It was a real adventure for all of us.

Steve was completely gob smacked, but thrilled beyond words. He wandered about with a fixed grin on his face. Kelly was equally pleased, so when I arranged for Penny to act as their agents as well, she was over the moon.

We travelled back to Portsmouth in very high spirits, and Kelly was rather eager to see James again. She called her father, who, already pining for my mother, was planning to come over and visit her at her flat in Chelsea. Her trip to Arizona had been a great success, during which their romance progressed in a very mature and gentle way. Considering that they were two hurting people, it was remarkable that it progressed at all.

Dad was seriously involved with Penny now, and he almost appeared to me to be a reformed character. However, I still was wary of believing miracles could actually happen, so was cautious in my dealings with him. I was reluctant to allow him to batter my emotions ever again, so maintained a slightly cool and distant relationship with him.

My accounts were in tip-top shape, as he was investing very wisely in property as opposed to stocks and shares. The stock market slumped drastically, yet my return over the last six months was very healthy indeed. He was beginning to mutter about the potential for a general crash and recession, so began to look at investing in areas that were more secure.

Samantha’s boyfriend contacted his school secretary, who was rather bemused by the suggestion that even a minor celebrity such as a pop singer might consider getting involved with their charity ball. Rather reluctantly she contacted me. When I told her that I would be delighted to come, along with my co-stars Steve Granger, Jenny Hills and Kelly Carnell, with their partners, she was completely struck dumb. Then I told her that we would like to sit with my friend Samantha and her date for the evening.

I told the gang about the charity ball, and they all thought it was a cool idea. They remembered Sam, and were all looking forward to meeting ‘her’ again.

There is something weird about walking away from your final exams at university. It was all over and although I knew I'd passed, I still wondered how well I'd passed. With all my assignments completed with good grades, I could actually dip the last exam catastrophically and still pass, but I wanted to get at least a two-one if not a first.

We house-mates all went to a little wine bar and quietly celebrated. Gone were the days of long drinking binges, which hadn't been my scene in any case, but Steve had changed almost beyond recognition. He'd done all his own work for his last few assignments, and had come out of his exams satisfied that he's at least passed.

We watched a crowd of first years students go past, pushing a couple of their number in a shopping trolley dressed as babies. They were all roaring drunk.

“Miss it, Steve?” Mark asked with a smile.

Steve smiled back and shook his head.

“Nah, I've grown up and moved on.”

“Grown up or got old?” Kelly asked.

Steve looked at me and shrugged.

“You choose,” he said.

“Seriously, mate, you've changed,” Mark said.

“I know, and it's all your fault, Donna,” he told me.

“What is?”

“You've made me see what's important. Besides, I've found something more important in life than me.”

“Aw, how romantic,” Mark teased, ducking as a rolled up paper napkin flew past his head.

Later, when we were in bed, Steve asked me a serious question.

“Donna, was I a pillock?”

“A bit, I suppose, but then I think we all probably were.”

“I don't want to get old.”

“We haven't a choice about it, love, but we can choose how we grow old.”

“As long as we do it together, I don't mind that much. I'd hate to have to start again.”

I laughed and tickled him.

“You're just lazy,” I said, and he disproved me by making love to me.

The end of our time at university was an anticlimax. After a long and boring ceremony, we collected out certificates of degree, and I was chuffed to get a first. Steve was happy with a third, while the others did okay.

It was then time to go our separate ways. For many students, this really was a parting of the ways, but for us it was different, as we were all getting together in a short time to start the movie. Oh, and we had to attend Samantha's summer ball, which was promising to be an interesting experience.
 
 
As you all know, the film was a great success, and paved the way for my career to develop with a third in the series and then offers started arriving at my agent's door every week. Steve and I married just after the film's premier, and have now settled in our new home in California. We still have a home in England as well, and spend at least half our time there, as we have many friends and family that seem to want us around.

Mum married Bruce a couple of months after Steve and I tied the knot. Kelly, Jenny and I were bride's maids, making the trip to the States for the happy event. Mum even invited Dad, who suggested that he give her away.

Needless to say, that kind offer was declined by the blushing bride. Dad came with Penny, as they'd moved in together. I hoped Penny knew what she was doing, but I wished them both every happiness.

Oh, how our life has changed, and as I sit in the sun, with a swollen belly that contains our first child, I have so many memories to think about. Those days of France and camping are still the fondest memories I have.

I received an email from Samantha this morning. She's just graduated from university with a degree in design. She's hoping to get a job with one of London's top fashion designers. She has a head start, as I got her to design and make an evening dress to wear at a celebrity charity event in L.A., and managed to drop her name to some people in the know.

I called her and we chatted at length. She's decided to write a journal on her story, so emailed me the first draft. I thought I'd add a few bits here, as it seems to tie up some loose ends nicely. It even covered the summer ball, so I'll let her tell her story, her way.

She's called her story, - It's What I Want!
 
 
SAMANTHA’S STORY
 
 
As I sat on the edge of my hospital bed, swinging my legs over the side for the first time since coming round after my operation, I saw the enormous bunch of flowers that Donna had sent.

There was a small card that read; “To a special girl at her moment of birth!”

I smiled and cried at the same time, as it was just so Donna.

In fact, that chance meeting with her in France all that time ago was the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me. Despite being nearly two years ago, I remembered it as if it was yesterday.

When my parents stated they wanted to go off for the day, I took advantage of my level of independence and told them I preferred to stay at the camp-site and read. I could do the washing, I offered.

For the whole day before their trip, I experienced mixed emotions. Part of me was excited at the prospect of being able to dress. I rarely got the opportunity and I needed the sexual release as well as the sense of rightness and freedom that dressing as a girl gave me. However, a lot of me was racked with guilt and shame for feeling the way I did. In fact, it hadn’t been a lie about me feeling suicidal. I was so down at not being able to be the real me, that I had thought about it quite often. I just hated being a boy, but felt guilty about it. However, to be perfectly honest, I was too chicken, as I hated the thought of what my suicide would do to my parents, and I wasn't prepared to put them through it. There didn’t seem to be any way out.

You will never know the embarrassed shock I experienced when Donna’s few French words knocked me sideways as I started dressing in the laundry room. My excitement had given me tunnel vision, so I hadn’t thought to check the windowsill to see whether there was anyone else in there with me. I couldn't see anyone, so I assumed I was alone.

From being so low, she managed to make that day the most wonderful I had ever experienced to date. The fact that her friends didn’t realise that I was not a real girl at first was so amazing and gave my confidence a real boost.

I suppose the biggest shock was when Donna told me that she’d been a boy up until quite recently. When she showed me her driver’s licence with photograph, I realised that she probably had never been a real boy, as she had been very effeminate and actually quite pretty, even though at that time, she thought she was a boy too.

I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky, as I was a boy, with all functioning parts. I also knew that I liked boys.

I’d sort of fibbed when I told Donna that I didn’t really know what I liked. I suppose the truth is I was ashamed of my feelings. I initially thought I was gay and wanted to be female because it would somehow legitimise my desire to make love to boys. However, after being a girl for that wonderful few hours, I realised that I liked boys because I was a girl inside, and my expression came through my male persona as well.

I’d never had sex with anyone, particularly a boy, although had fantasised about it many times. The strange thing was, each time, I was male to start, often dressed as a girl, but by the end of my fantasies, I was always either completely female, or almost. There was something erotic about imagining myself as a beautiful girl, except for my genitalia. In those early days, I was not sure whether it was guilt or a genuine desire to be female that made me want to become completely female.

My psychologist sorted me out.

I didn’t think I was that screwed up, but I found out that I was pretty bad.

After going to the doctor with my mother, soon after getting back from France, I’d begun on my path of seeing the psychologist and first dose of hormones, I thought it would be easy.

It wasn’t.

I had life to live at the same time as all this crap.

One word of advice, never initiate something like this in the middle of an exam syllabus. Exams fuck you up without any help, so I’d selected the most difficult time of my young life to start things rolling. Then again, I was so keen to get things going that I don’t think it would have mattered when I’d started.

I stayed as Sam until I finished my GCSEs. Not only because my body hadn’t started to develop, and it would have been too hard for me to go back to the same school suddenly wearing a skirt! You can say what you like about equal opportunities and what-not, but I can tell you that fifteen and sixteen year olds just adore taking the piss out of anyone who is slightly different. So a bloke turning up wearing a dress is more likely to attract a host of unwanted attention and abuse than anything else.

In a perfect world, everyone is kind and understanding. I don't live in a perfect world. Some people say that it's all in the mind, and that the reality is never as bad as you imagine. I've news for them, - reality is much worse! Reality has bigots who just can't accept different people. They lack the intellect to reason things out, so react with the only thing they understand, violence and aggression. A psychologist would say it's cause by a root fear and insecurity in their own sexuality.

I don't care, their fists and names hurt just as much as a rational and well balanced person.

I know that I could go to my new school as Samantha, but it was murder having to live each day as a boy that was ever so slowly turning into a girl. Oh, how bloody slowly!

I had school work as well as a limited social life, and I had to deal with the flack from my relatives.

To start with, it wasn’t too bad, as there wasn’t a lot of change. I had to dress and pretend to be Sam for all family events, to give mum time to work out how she was going to explain what was happening. Thinking back, it must have been a nightmare for my parents, to have their only son turn round and declare that he wanted to be a girl.

After a few months I refused to dress as a boy anymore, which was in line with my psychologist’s recommendation that I begin living as a girl. The psychologist had managed to straighten out some of my kinks, so I was now happy that I was going down the right road. I briefly went through a sexually active period, mentally that is, where I wanted to experiment and looked for a boy to share my feelings. I was also very fearful and shy, so the two extremes didn’t mix well. In the event nothing happened, until I met Dean.

I don’t think I realised just how screwed up I was, because when you go thorough life as the person you are, all those quirks that you see in others are hidden from you.

I was, by virtue of my hidden nature, quite selfish and defensive. I was attracted to boys and at the same time so appalled and guilty that I denied the reality to myself, and so sort of bumbled along in a kind of asexual middle of the road. I expressed as much to Donna, but I remember her expression when I looked at that waiter. She knew!

Now I was able to be the outward person that I always wanted to be, I didn’t have to hide my feelings from myself, let alone others.

I first met Dean at the Tennis club.

I’d spent all week as Sam at school, as next week was the start of the GSCE exams. Mum allowed me to wear a tennis skirt and girl’s top when we played. She had become a member of this club very recently, so I had never been as a boy, so no one knew me here.

While we were playing, I noticed a boy playing a game with an older woman on the adjoining court, so I guessed she was the boy's mother. He was taller than me, and probably a year or so older. I’d never seen him before, but he was slim and had dreamy eyes.

We finished first and sat on the bench to have a drink. They finished their game not long afterwards and both drifted over to the benches, as their bags had been left here as well.

“”Hello, you’re new, aren’t you?” the woman asked Mum in a friendly way.

“Yes, I’ve just joined,” said Mum. “I’m Caroline Pickering and this is Sam.”

I smiled and nodded. I had hoped that she’d have said I was her daughter, but, hey, I suppose she didn’t want to fib.

“Wanda Gelling, and this is my son, Dean.”

“Hi,” said Dean, smiling at me. I felt the flush rise from somewhere down below and didn’t stop until above my hairline.

“Hi,” I replied, looking down.

The two women started gassing and Dean ended up sitting next to me. We chatted aimlessly for a while, about schools and stuff, and then he asked me a question that shook me.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

I was unable to reply, as I was simply stunned.

Eventually I muttered something like, “Not really.”

“Why not?” he asked, as if it mattered.

To my amazement, I actually tried to explain the semi truth.

“I’m not really in a position to date any one at the moment, as I’m going through a medical thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

I was backed into a corner now, and I felt angry that he was quite so determined to be forthright. The anger made me stronger and more foolish than I should have been.

“I’m undergoing gender transition, so I’m not exactly in the market, so to speak.”

I don’t know who was more amazed, him or me. At least our mothers were just out of earshot, but even so, I immediately regretted my angry outburst, as I prepared for the abuse and disgust that would be the natural reaction.

“Woah, cool! I’d never have known, you look great!” he said, without batting an eye.

“What?” I said, disarmed totally by his attitude.

“I’ve never met a dude who wants to be a girl. I’ve read about it and seen TV programmes, but I’ve never met anyone going through it. You’re amazingly up front about it, good for you.”

“I didn’t mean to be, you sort of confused me,” I stammered, feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

“Don’t be. Are those your own, or what?” He asked, nodding at my chest.

“They’re breast forms, as I’ve not grown big enough yet.”

“How long have you been in whatsit?”

“Transition; not long.”

“How do you fancy going to a movie sometime?” he said.

I stared at him with something akin to shock.

“Hello, are you okay?” he asked.

“F.f.fine, yes, no, shit, I’d love to, but…” I looked to my mother for support, but she wasn’t even looking my way.

In the end I agreed.

“Look, please don’t tell anyone about what I said, as I didn’t mean to tell you,” I pleaded.

“Why did you?” he asked, frowning.

“I don’t know, I think you pushed me too hard and made me cross. I thought it might shock you enough to frighten you away.”

“You want me to go?”

“NO! I mean, no, not now.”

“Okay, I’ll call you, but I need a number.”

I hesitated a moment, but then gave him my number. I never thought he’d ring me.

After a while, he left, but not until he’d kissed me on the cheek. That stunned me almost as much as his reaction. When I told mum about him wanting to take me to a movie, she was horrified. When I told her that he knew, she was even more horrified. In the end, I was tempted to call him to forget it, but she decided that I had better leave it, as it would be unlikely that he’d call me and call off may make things worse.

Oh yeah?

“Hi, Sam, it’s Dean. How about Friday?”

SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!

“Oh, hi Dean. This Friday?” I asked as casually as I could, with my heart thumping in my chest.

“Yeah, still up for it?”

“Up for it? Oh, yes, if you still want to.”

“Of course, I'll meet you at the cinema, okay?”

I now had something else to look forward to.

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To Be Continued...